#the idea of losing my sister is unfathomable to me

[johnathancactus]

currently on epsiode 5 of arcane and VIKTORRRRR NOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭hes def my favorite give me morally complicated scientist dudes and my life is yours 😭😭😭😭. ut also nooooooo girl pls dont die i love u 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 viktor pls 😭😭😭😭 ik you wont die but girlie no dont lose your ethics 😭😭😭😭😭 i know you are facing death down the face but you cant lose yourself 😭😭😭😭😭 viktor no 😭😭😭😭😭 VIKTORRRRR 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW)

Your family did fine. You were more comfortable than some, but not so comfortable that you could sit idle. The crops had started to bud, and the shop was filled with all manner of pickled vegetables, fresh eggs, and flowers. You counted the coppers and silvers in the little lock box under the counter. Business was the same as usual, but your brow still furrowed.

Mother was getting tired. The decades of tilling, sowing, reaping, and harvesting had started to toll on her. Especially after your father left. The bastard. Your mother labored at home with an aching back and bad knees. Before long the crops would flourish and need tending. It was more than enough work for two, unfathomable for just you alone.

Jeering came from outside the shop. A band of orc hunters with their catches. They were a threatening bunch. Hard and strong. One orc could have the strength of two men. In the great cities they faced more discrimination, but out here someone either hunted for their meat, or payed other people to do the hunting for them. And the orcs… they were masterful at what they did. And so they were welcomed.

The rusted hinges of your shop door creaked. “Did you miss me?”

Any desire to feign positivity drained from your person. You didn’t even try to hide the sour look on your face. Milo was a repugnant leech that had been stalking your family for years. He had tried courting each one of your elder sisters, losing them each time to men better than him. And now you were the last sister on the list. Unmarried. And running out of time. The latter fact he was quite aware of.

”How is Celina?” You never liked how he called your mother by her first name. It was too familiar. You don’t bother to look up from your coin counting. “My Mother’s wellbeing is none of your concern.” Milo sauntered up to the counter, “y/n-“

You slammed your fist, sending a few coins into the air. “When will you get the idea that my family wants nothing to do with you?” You still couldn’t look him in the eye. He sighed, picking up one of the coppers from the floor, “You would rather your mother toil in the field? You would rather surrender yourself to the life of a shopkeep? It’s a waste.”

You had no answer for him. Because he was right to question your choices. Yes you truly enjoyed running the family shop, but you couldn’t possibly keep this up for long without your mother. She deserved peace and rest. But he was just… a nuisance at best. Frightening at worst. His family owned half the town, and how easy it would be for them to blacklist you and your mother from ever doing business in their marketplace again.

”Anyways…” He dropped the coin down onto your counter with a clank, “Winter will come. And will you be prepared? If your mother cannot help you work the fields…”

”Are you trying to give me an ultimatum?” You had pushed the idea of next winter out of your head the second the ice started to melt. But he was right, what would you do? He didn’t entertain your question with a response. No… it wasn’t an ultimatum. It was a threat. A threat that when winter came you would get what was coming to you. He made his way out the door, the rusty hinges screeching. “You should really fix that.” He gave a nasty grin and let the door slam behind him.

You pushed all the thoughts of worry from your head. It was something you had grown skilled at doing. Gods be damned if you let him spoil such a lovely morning. You threw the windows of the shop open, arranging bouquets from your flower garden for the street to see.

At night when you and your mother pray over dinner, you beg anyone listening for an eternal spring.

~

Two weeks pass uneventfully. You sell many bouquets of flowers to well-to-do ladies, and your mother’s special pickled red onions fly off the shelves as usual. In the early morning you sit counting your coins, listening to the soft bustling of the market just beginning to wake up.

”You know you can pickle these eggs right?”

You keep your eyes trained on the coins, trying not to lose count. There is a long pause, but you can tell the man hasn’t walked away, “We don’t sell any here.”

“You should.” You raise your head to cock an eyebrow at him. You try to stifle a gasp from your chest. An orc man with olive green skin is leaned slightly through the window of your shop. You had never had an orc approach your little shop. They always had bigger and better things to sell and buy.

”We don’t sell those here.” A more rational person would have thought twice before talking back to an orc hunter. But you were tired of men questioning you. A young lady entered the shop, eyeing the orc man still leaning on your window sill. The door squealed unpleasantly, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fine,” The orc smirked and shrugged, exiting your window.

~

The next day, there was a basket waiting for you on your shop’s doorstep. You groan. This wouldn’t be the first time Milo left gifts for you to find. You take a peek into the bracket and… what was this? Spices? Salt? Garlic cloves? Underneath the goods were two silver coins.

You yelped at the sound of fingers rapping against the window pane. You reeled around expecting Milo. But… it was the orc man. The orc man from the day before. He pointed at the little latch holding the window closed. You were sure he could punch his way right through the window if he really wanted in. “I don’t want any trouble!” You yelled at him through the window.

Another smirk crept onto his face, “I bring no trouble with me, Miss. I just thought you might like a chance to make some more coin.”

What this lecherous orc seriously propositioning you for pay? Before he could say another thing, you hurled an egg at him. You hoped it would have just broken against the window to frighten him off. But to your horror it crashed through the glass, making a direct impact with his face. “Fuck!” You heard him fall on his ass in the street.

You rushed to the window. The orc was splayed out on the cobblestones, his forehead bleeding from the broken glass. He lay motionless, and you started to panic. Oh Gods. Oh Gods no. You just assaulted an orc. A big strong orc man who kills things for his living. Not even Milo or his family’s status could protect you from the wrath of an angry orc. You threw open the screeching rusted front door. Oh gods he was huge. He knew where you worked. He could follow you home. What if he brought his fellow huntsmen with him? What if they hurt your mother as well?

You couldn’t stop any of the thoughts racing through your head. You were worried about making it through winter… now you might not even make it through the summer. You bit down on your fist, trying to keep composure.

”Got a hell of an arm…” The orc grunted, pulling you out of your trance. He sat himself up, bringing his fingers to the drops of blood running down his temple. “Ha!” He guffawed and made his way to stand up.

”Please… please.” You weren’t sure if you were praying to a high power or pleading to him. His eyes met yours but there was no rage, or fury. There was a look of annoyance, maybe a bit of mild amusement. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck he said, “Miss. I only meant… you should make pickled eggs. There are a lot of orc boys out here far from the motherland. They would pay a premium for a taste of home.”

You were nearly speechless, “I- I don’t know how orcs prefer their pickled eggs-

“That basket has everything you need.”

“Oh… okay. Very well. Sir.” Your voice wavered and he could see how clearly frightened you were.

The orc groaned, wiping more blood off his face. “Sorry about this. See you around.” You hoped that wasn’t a threat, but with that he jogged his way down the street.

Blasted pickled eggs.

[meet-me-backstage]

⎈

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦇 Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🦇 You get dragged into the unfathomable events at Starcourt Mall by your hopeless crush on Billy Hargrove and new-found middle-schooler friends. You struggle to cope with the trauma which gradually costs you your popular cheerleader reputation when you return to high school for senior year. Though this loss first appears to be the end of the world, you learn that there's worse things than levelling down in popularity.

Though even in darkness, there is always a light - for you this is Eddie Munson, who you gain an unlikely friendship in and fall for him in the process.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🦇 smoking, mention of and consumption of drugs, horror themes, violence (in the upside down and probs Steve losing another fight (•̀ᴗ•́)و jk jk he's king), nightmares, mention of and consumption of alcohol, mention of and a near death experience, death, bad language, blood, bullying, mention of vomit and vomiting, some domestic (mainly verbal and emotional) abuse(‼️), mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide, mention of self-harm, allusion to eating disorder and smUUT so you have to be 18+ to read this series❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 🦇 4K words.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 🦇 blood, horror themes, violence, death, mention of suicidal thoughts and mention of suicide, domestic (verbal) abuse and a near death experience.

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

🦇 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 🦇

"Superstar!" Mason calls out for you, he'd arrived home from one of his friend's homes that had instruments in their garage - some musicians who were dropouts from Hawkins High. You are yet to meet them, but he raved about them like they were an answered prayer of his. "I'm in the band - like, officially," his voice excited but in a whisper, not wanting your mom or dad to hear because they had no idea that he’d been searching musicians to form a band in the first place - it had been a secret between the two of you.

You are stood in the front yard secretly practicing basketball and upon hearing Mason's voice you turn around, the replacement ball that Mason had got you in your hands - you feel happy for him, but then you remember him mentioning an opportunity to record with the band somewhere far away from Hawkins. "Wicked - so, that means - you're leaving Hawkins, right?" You pout.

"I have to go before this shithole ruins me - it's a once in a lifetime opportunity," he whispers, coming closer - he could see, beneath the happiness you feel, that you’re sad... sad that he'd no longer be around to play basketball with you, to listen and dance to music with you, to cheer you on through everything, "I'll still be here with you - in the form of... I don't know," he looks down, his mousy hair falling in front of his face. His blue eyes land on the ball and they light up, "My cassettes! Keep that Black Sabbath one you love so much - and I'll send letters, I promise."

You hold your own hands, fiddling with your fingers, "When - are you gonna go?" You nervously look up at him.

He bites his lips together, clearly feeling guilty because he knows that you don’t have anyone else who accepts you for who you are... not even your mom or sister. "Tonight," he sighs, "I'll be sneaking out once everyone is in bed... I'll write a note for mom, dad - Becky... and we're all planning to meet at Andy’s van, he’s the bassist - he's gonna drive us to this record company... which is - it's a long drive away," he tries to contain his excitement, but it shows in his voice.

"But - high school," you frown, "You're going before I even start," you huff, knowing that it's going to be miserable without him and that Rebecca would be looking out for you instead... which you know is going to be miserable because she has been embarrassed to have you as a sister ever since she started high school, even going to the extent of telling you to stay your room on the occasion that she'd bring friends from Hawkins High home for a slumber party or movie night...

You know that she can’t just shut you away at high school… she’d desperately try to change you or completely ignore you.

Without Mason you have nobody apart from Chrissy... who is a good friend, but she’d been raving about hanging out with the likes of Rebecca and the rest of the cheer team at Hawkins High for months.

"I'll miss you," You mumble, not liking to admit it, which makes him chuckle and he ruffles your hair with his right hand.

"I'll miss you too, superstar - that's why I'm telling you all this... rather than in the note I'm leaving them," he gestures towards your home, "They'd never let me go... skip senior year if they knew it was for drumming," he makes a look of sarcastic horror on his face, which makes you giggle with him after, "It might take a while - to be settled somewhere else, but once I am hopefully you will have graduated and you can join me."

"You don't have to ask me twice,” You groan softly, still dreading the thought of starting high school without him being there, "That's if I'm not killed by Becky for raining on her high school parade."

Mason forces a grin, frustration clear on his features by the way that the lines between his brows show, "I'm sorry I'm not going to be there to - defend you," he sighs, "You gotta promise me that you'll stay strong, don't change yourself for anyone - not even mom or Becky… because there's gonna be someone else out there, like me, who's gonna love you for who you are," he places his hand under your chin, looking down at you with fond eyes, "Who's gonna want to be friends with you no matter what, who - I dunno, loves Black Sabbath as much as we do and will jump on the bed with you to all their records, okay?"

You stare up at him solemnly, but hopeful that you can find a friend like that - Eddie is the first that pops into your head when Mason mentions Black Sabbath.

You stir in discomfort during your sleep, your eyelids fluttering.

Your brother has disappeared now, vanished into thin air.

You notice that it has turned unusually dark suddenly with ominous-looking grey clouds towering above you, rain is falling on your head and behind you your mom is yelling, "Where is she?!" Followed by Rebecca yelling back, "I don't know, mom - I'm going out to look!"

Rebecca has a yellow jacket on over some denim overalls and is grasping a torch as she runs out of the house while your mom stood at the doorframe, "Don't even think about coming back until you find her - I mean it, Rebecca," your mom scowls as Rebecca starts to wipe at her face, her make-up smudging her eyes, making them look bruised.

You pout, feeling bad for your sister, what you’d put her through by searching for Billy and Heather instead of coming straight home.

Rebecca walks straight past you, completely ignoring you stood right outside your shared home and you watch her, worried... confused, "Becky?!" You call, but she continues to walk, "Rebecca, I'm right here!" You shout now, which she seems to hear this time because she starts to slow down until her walking comes to a complete halt... her movement is unusually slouchy, which is very unlike her. You squint your eyes, watching her, she is as still as a statue, "Rebecca?"

She turns slowly, her skin now pale, almost purple under the dull night sky - she looks... zombified. Like Billy had looked in the sauna... and like how pale you had been when you witnessed the sauna test that your newfound middle schooler friends had tried on Billy, you froze on the spot not knowing what to do because it was a situation you never expected to be in. All you could do was scream 'you're hurting him!' repeatedly until you collapsed into a sobbing mess as El forcefully lifted Billy into the air and chucked him through the window of the community pool with her powers.

In this moment you can only tremble... you don’t know what to do without Eleven, she'd protected all of you, though at first you didn’t quite understand, not until you saw that thing at the hospital - a fleshy monster made up of residents from Hawkins. Your eyes widen at the realisation as Rebecca sinisterly storms towards is you, not blinking, her skin is patterned with protruding purple veins, "R-Rebecca?" You manage to gather the strength to speak, but she doesn’t respond, "I'm - sor-."

She grabs your neck with both her hands, squeezing, which makes you gasp out an involuntary scream - her head tilts as she watches you suffer.

"Y-you - don't - havetodothis!" You gurgle, tightly grasping onto her wrists with your hands, trying to break yourself free.

Rebecca's eyes are glossy, but she is dead behind them, "Yes I do - ever since you were born you've been nothing but a misbehaving little brat... now you're going to pay - you're going to stay still and let him take you," Him? You shake your head desperately and she smiles eerily in response, "It's not going to hurt one bit - and then you'll be gone at last."

"No!" You scream violently in your sleep, only to be shaken awake by Max.

It had all been a sick, twisted, messed up dream.

You stare up at Max, confused when you see the red bruise under her eye, that’s when it all comes back to you. Billy had knocked you both out, hit you so hard you’d had such a realistic concussion dream. "Wake up," Max whispers, shaking you until you nod your head and then she moves onto Mike, who is still knocked out.

You are at the back area of Starcourt after trying to trick the Mind Flayer into thinking that Eleven was being driven away by Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, Robin and Lucas when she was actually still at the mall - you’d messed up... you admit that you’re still pretty new to this, but the three of you were so desperate to help Eleven that you hadn’t been discreet enough.

You and Max had tried to keep Billy away... convinced that you could somehow knock whatever it was out of him as he strode towards you, but you were very wrong... clearly.

You hear fireworks continuously going off, making you flinch and turn away from the sound, noticing that Eleven is not with you, "Max - she's gone, El's gone - and Billy!" You frantically stand yourself up, your legs wobble for a few moments before you let your care towards these kids that had come into your life on a horrific whim sink into you and send you running towards the loud bangs in the main area of the mall.

Terror sinks into your stomach, it gets worse with every step you get closer until you see it again, the massive fleshy monster in the middle of the mall, the monster that had tried to kill you while you sneaked from counter to counter of clothes in The Gap earlier... it was not what you expected when you told Dana after your shift there that you’d be back soon - not under these… circumstances. Neon sparks are flying off of this thing as it roars and you halt your running abruptly, your converse making a squeaking sound.

Max and Mike are on either side of you, you laugh breathlessly as the monster seems to be in pain.

You thought that you were winning against the wicked-looking evil before you...

Until, in your lower peripheral vision you can see movement… your face completely falls at the sight of Billy standing up in front of Eleven, examining the monster in a frozen state of confusion. His skin is no longer purple, sweat no longer dripping from his features and no veins can be seen. What had been left from the Mind Flayer on Billy are dark scars on his back.

The past few days seem to flash before your eyes, you’d gotten yourself so wrapped up in this new secret side of Hawkins that had been under your nose, wound yourself up in this group of people that you’d never even spoken to before at school and now was sharing traumatic life or death situations with them - you’d even held one of Nancy Wheeler's guns to try and protect the kids from the same monster at Hopper’s cabin - and Steve 'the hair' Harrington was involved in all of this?!

You’d never even had the chance to acknowledge your response to Billy's last note to you, let alone talk to him about it... and now it’s too late...

A broken sob leaves your trembling lips as one of the tentacles that had tried to kill you before shot towards Eleven, making her scream... but it doesn’t get anywhere near her because it is stopped in it's tracks by Billy, who steps forward, protecting Eleven by catching the mouth of this tentacle in his hands.

Your eyes are wide and you let out a scream. You can’t let this happen to Billy… You’d gathered that there had also been so many words left unsaid between him and Max after finding out about everything he'd gone through when you witnessed Eleven enter his childhood trauma and memories with her mind... you want to help him, need to help, "No!" You yell.

I'm crazy for doing this, even thinking it.

In a flash, you’re sprinting towards Billy and the monster. You whisper profanities under your breath and ignore Max and Mike's yelling for you to turn away... you knew that you needed to take matters into your own hands to save Billy now that you’d run out of fireworks and the monster's attention is solely on him - and besides…

it's too late to turn back now.

You try desperately to ignore the monster snarling next to you because you know that if you looked, you’d be running away from it. You just focus on the strain on Billy's face, it breaks your heart as you remember all the specific moments you’d spent together where he'd smiled at you with that smug grin, cheered for you, danced with you... even if the last time had been to piss off your sister, it felt real to you and you hoped that if you’d just had a heart to heart, that it would change everything between the two of you - that you’d understand one another.

"B-Billy," you sob while grabbing onto his arm, which is being engulfed by the fleshy monster. You then bring a hand to his cheek, "Billy - I forgive you," you stroke your thumb over his cheekbone and desperately try to pull his arms away, but you can’t... as you continue to try to save him another tentacle flings out of this monster and punctures Billy's stomach, which makes him gutturally groan.

"L-little m-iss - keg - qu- qu- you n-eed to - st-ay - aw-ay," he manages to utter those words between more groans as the monster continues to impale him with more tentacles, but you can’t move... he is trying to protect you, though nothing but anger towards this monster floods through you as it grasps Billy's life in it's tentacles... ripping him away again.

You growl, your teeth grinding together as you reach for one of the tentacles. You grab it tightly, trying to ignore the grossness of its slimy and muscly texture... you grip onto it as hard as you can and scream as you try to rip it completely away from Billy's hip but it is gripping onto him so hard that you only manage to rip a piece of the monster’s flesh away...

It makes the monster scream in anger while you scream in pain as the flesh you ripped away from the monster grips onto your skin, trying to burrow into it like a tick. It is so strong that it rips into my wrist and wriggles into you while you try with your other hand to get it off, but you can’t. After that you see it burrowing underneath your skin, wriggling inside your arm and crawling up it and hiding somewhere inside you... never to be found again, you wail in horror.

You’d fallen on the floor during your fight with this piece of the Mind Flayer, your wrist uncontrollably bleeds, creating a small puddle of blood on the floor around your hand.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as the Mind Flayer sends one last tentacle straight into Billy's heart. Everyone's screams can be heard, making you tear your eyes away from your bleeding wrist and the pain coming from your wound... I tried, but failed... it’s not like I have much to live for once this is over, I wish it had been me... you continue to sob uncontrollably as Billy is lifted by these tentacles and, like the monster had heard your thoughts, it faces you and you don’t even try to move away, you just stare as it towers over me, it's mouth open wide, baring it’s many layers of teeth.

You are ready for it to snap at you, for it to send a tentacle to end you, but before it could even just roar once more, the monster suddenly loses it’s footing and collapses to the ground... it almost tramples you but you shuffle away on my bum quick enough to not be suffocated to death.

It had completely sabotaged the mall and had even set it alight...

You are frozen and alone as the others hug.

You hear Billy gurgling to your side and quickly snap back to your senses by crawling towards him, broken sobs leaving your lips. He has blood splattered all over his mouth and his chest, "B-illy," You croak out as Max runs to join you by Billy’s side, "You're going to get through this, I believe in you, Billy - please!" You quote one of the notes he'd given you and place your hand on his chest, not caring that his blood is spilling onto your hand and yours is spilling on him.

Max stands over her brother and starts to shake him, "Billy - Billy, get up, please," Max pleads continuously, tears streaming down her face.

Billy continues to cough and he looks at you, his mouth tweaking upwards in pain, reminding you again of all the smiles he'd given you at the parties, in school. You hoped you’d see more of them, receive more notes from him.

You remembered your favorite night with Billy - at Tina's party, you were both drunk and he complimented your hair, then you complimented his and somehow got yourselves into a drunken 'who can flip their hair better' competition.

"Mine's swoosh-ier than yours," you bobbed your head to the sound of the music and rolled your head in circles, which made your hair sway chaotically around, hitting Billy's face, which caused him blow raspberries to try and get your hair out of his mouth.

He wiped his mouth and laughed, shaking his head at you with that priceless grin that made you hopelessly think about him all day everyday, "Not bad, little miss - it moves - nnicely and all, but I think mine adds a little m-more volume into - the mix," he slurred and brought his hand up to fiddle with his hair, he then moved his head from side to side with the biggest smile on his face.

You blushed, taking advantage of just being able to watch him having fun, "Mhm 'not bad', Hargrove," you giggled.

He cradled his forehead once he'd come to a stop, his hair was all over his face, "You know what - you win. I do not have the stomach for a second round of that," he laughed, moving his brows suggestively, which made you blush even more - and like he read your mind, he leant forward and kissed your cheek, his breath fanned your face, "'M gonna get us another drink."

You were giddy inside because he seemed so happy, like he had not a care in world - with that tweaked up smile permanently etched onto his face had…

Your mouth tweaks upwards at the memory, but it fades quickly as the dream of spending more time together outside of those stupid parties gradually fades.

Billy’s glossy eyes slowly drag away from you and he looks at Max, who is hovering over him completely now, "I'm sorry," his final words.

He stops gurgling and his body goes limp as he inhales, taking his last breath, "Billy, wake up - Billy, get up - please," Max pleads before realisation spreads across her features... he is dead.

Gone. No - I can't believe it.

You stare down at him in disbelief, "N-no," you shake your head hysterically and start to pump his chest in desperate hopes that he'd take another breath and that life would reach his eyes again.

Max watches you, also in hysteria, watching your hands move up and down on his chest... hoping, only for defeat to take over again and she breaks down, sobbing louder, "Stop! It's - no use - y-you’re only - hurting yourself."

You keep shaking your head, your tears spilling over Billy's bloodstained vest, "There - has to be a way!" You cry and suddenly feel yourself being dragged away from Billy's body by Max. She collapses onto your lap and hugs you tightly... the girl that had cut you the least amount of slack since you’d joined the friend group. You bow your head and wrap your arms around her, sobbing in each other's arms.

You can’t let go of each other after that, you both limp out of the mall and you let her lean onto you until you are made to go your separate ways by a group of firefighters. You’re now stood alone, watching all of your friends reuniting with their families, searching for your mom or Rebecca, who are nowhere to be seen. Your eyes set themselves on Eleven, who is stood alone too, searching for Hopper.

You do your best to ignore the pain and blood flowing out of your wrist by holding your other hand over the cut.

You take one last look at the mall - the neon light of the Starcourt Mall sign, the orange smoke from the fire inside merging into the sky... it looks like a nightmare, but it is real. You take one shaky breath before collapsing onto the wet concrete.

You see yourself from a third person perspective. You are levitating and being held up like Billy had been by that monster.

You are face to face with it again, only you are in Billy's exact place - it's features even scarier than the real thing. It seems to be angry with you - it wants you, but before you can scream for help from Max, anybody - a tentacle of smoke flies towards you, holding your wrist and disappearing into the cut that had been made by the flesh of the Mind Flayer before. You scream in pain as you feel nothing but it coursing through your body, and then as if to shut you up, this Mind Flayer made up of smoke sends another tentacle to your mouth.

Your arms uncontrollably fight to get away, but you feel yourself being held down. "Control her - hold her down!"

You see a bright light directly above you, at first you think you are slipping into death… then you see blurred faces with blue rubber hats and masks in nurses uniforms, they shine a torch at your eyes which snap you back to your senses and makes you blink profusely.

“We’re not sure, Ms - but we can confirm that she attempted suicide in the mall.”

"Is - is she awake?!" You hear your mom's panicked voice. She appears in your eye line, standing over you like the doctor's are.

"Your daughter has lost a lot of blood but we've got the bleeding under control," One of the doctor's above you speaks. You can’t move - they must've sedated you, "Sit down."

"No - I will not sit down - you don't understand - I have a missing daughter out there!" Your mom scolds the doctors and points out of the window in the hospital room. Rebecca is missing? Your eyes widen and the doctor's notice because they finally turn the torch off and are writing something down on the clipboard at the foot of the bed you’re tucked into.

"You have to stay, Ms - your daughter here is regaining consciousness, we may need you to ease her when she's able to talk - we can call the authorities for you about your other daughter," the doctor explains and your mom looks less than content about being advised to stay - she purses her lips, wanting to argue, "I'll get someone to call."

The doctor leaves and you and your mom are left alone in the room. Your eyes are the only things that can move, you have slight control over your wounded wrist which twitches, making the machine beside your bed beep. The sudden sound attracts the attention of your mom, she notices that you’re looking at her and walks towards your bed - you expect her, for once, to be relieved that you’re with her, and alive.

"Do you see what you've done to me?! What you've done to this family?!" She scolds you, towering over the bed so that you can see nothing but her disappointed and distressed face, she looks dishevelled, her hair messy and damp, her eyes are surrounded by dark rings from not sleeping, "Becky went out looking for you days ago - since your shift at Starcourt and hasn't come back," she sobs angrily and you manage to open your mouth, making a strained noise, "She - went to that trailer park - to see if you were there and she hasn't called - neither has your father," she spits out each word so harshly and so quickly that you can hardly keep up, her tears falling onto your face, "My Becky," she sobs.

What if the dream I had earlier was true?

If it was, you already knew that Rebecca was most likely flayed, like Billy and Heather - Mr and Mrs Holloway and Mrs Driscoll. And what about dad? The thought of your dream being true, your eyes turn glossy and tears start to form in the corner of your eyes. Strained noises leave your mouth, they can’t just burst out because you don’t have the physical strength.

"It's all your fault," your mom sobs, pointing her finger at you, nothing but hatred in her eyes when she looks at you... she is right, it is. If you didn't already feel aching guilt before, you definitely feel it now, especially since there had been this underlying adrenaline you felt during this entire experience... after being locked in your bedroom for a month and being confined by your mom's strict rules.

It was terrible, it was scary, but you also felt free in a situation that led to so many people's deaths... including those close to you, those you love.

Your wrist starts to throb from from under your skin as you hear a gravelly, sinister voice in your head while yours flutter shut: 'They're dead and it's all your fault, little miss thief'.

⇝ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⎈ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

��𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

@sadbitchfangirl @ali-r3n @hostedparties-and-starvedmybody

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

⎈

[silencedminstrel]

(Artist unknown)

A DIALOGUE OF SPIRITS - THE "SCAFFOLDS OF CREATION" AFTER THE DARK EMPEROR HAD UNSHACKLED THEM FROM THE "TREE OF LIFE" (SPECULATIVE SCRIPT)

EXT - AN UNKNOWN WORLD SOMEWHERE WITHIN "THE GLEAMING FIELD" (HYPER UNIVERSE) - DAY

THE CHARACTERS - TAS UVUNGULA @ THE YELLOW KING (LORD OF THE AIR ELEMENT), QUEEN MERNIA (LADY OF THE EARTH ELEMENT), ENVERD KALIPOTH (LORD OF THE WATER ELEMENT) AND ZEL-HALVEL (LORD OF THE FIRE ELEMENT)

THE FOUR ETHEREAL MANIFESTATIONS OF THE BASIC BUILDING BLOCKS OF CREATION, WHICH GOES BY THE NAME OF THE "SCAFFOLDS OF CREATION" HAVE GATHERED AT AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION SOMEWHERE IN "THE GLEAMING FIELD" OR THE HYPER UNIVERSE, MARVELING AT HOW MUCH EVERYTHING HAD EVOLVED EVER SINCE THEY WERE CHAINED TO THE "TREE OF LIFE" AT THE ONSET OF CREATION.

TAS UVUNGULA: So how was your trip to The Place Where It All Began, dear sister?

MERNIA: Delightful as always, dear brother! And yes, my dear son (Nature Spirit Lord Sumbuz-Tri) also sends his regards...!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: So I assume everything went well down there, sister?

MERNIA: Oh, you, heheh! You knew it as well as I did, brother!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: Please, humor us for a moment, sister?

MERNIA: (Sigh) Oh, very well...! The Dark Emperor had finally arranged to meet his estranged sister-in-law as expected, whereas Earth Maiden Senoha had saved both her beloved dad's and her affectionate lover's peace of mind but...!

ZEL-HALVEL: Is something amiss, sister?

MERNIA: (Sigh) Well no...it's just that...that Shairo had burned his bridges and that poor undeserving Humoga had to inherit all of his burdens instead...!

ZEL-HALVEL: I'm sorry to hear that, sister...!

TAS UVUNGULA: You cared too much as always, dear sister, but I don't blame you one bit...!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: I agree with you, brother. Nevertheless, our carefully laid plans have worked so far, sister!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: (Continued) We've saved XNROE from further degradation, we've made the Dark Emperor set in motion the reinstatement of the Celestial Emperor and...! (Sigh)

ZEL-HALVEL: And most importantly, we've managed to curtail that Saif Shalkanath's damaging designs--indefinitely I might add?

TAS UVUNGULA: Indeed we had, brother!

MERNIA: But what if it's still not enough, you two? For he had already absorbed too many an innocent life to free himself from his prison! Oh my dear brothers I dread to think how many more Sacred Survivors would have to lose their lives until he's...! (Sniffle)

TAS UVUNGULA: Be strong, sister! We must put our trust on His beloved "Creations" for we've already been informed of their hidden potentials--long before they even existed!

ZEL-HALVEL: Forsooth, dear sister! For we're still at an advantage as far as I can tell! I mean...!

MERNIA: (Sigh) Yes, you're right, you two...! Forsooth our business was--and forever will be--with that false deity and nothing else!

ZEL-HALVEL: While Mickey (Mind of the Creator) and his "Brother" deals with their wayward rival "The Faceless Horde" before they decided to invade that universe again! Am I right, everyone?

ENVERD KALIPOTH: Yes, which is another thing that worries me still, brother...!

MERNIA: What do you mean, brother?

ENVERD KALIPOTH: (Sigh) Despite our vast attributes dear sister, whatever "game" that The One Most High is playing will forever be...! (Sigh) Forever be beyond our understanding!

TAS UVUNGULA: Then it is wise to quit dwelling on the unfathomable, brother! Forsooth we've got work to do and we need to proceed with it post-haste! Lest...!

MERNIA: Agreed. Now let us merge our thoughts together and find out the means to maintain the continuity of Creation...!

ZEL-HALVEL: Motion seconded, dear sister!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: Motion carried...!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: (Continued) And it so happens that I've already had an idea brewing, everyone!

MERNIA: Ah! As always you're so full of surprises, dear brother!

ENVERD KALIPOTH: Don't I always, dear sister? Heheh...!

TAS UVUNGULA: Well let's hear it then, brother?

ENVERD KALIPOTH: Certainly, brother...!

FADE OUT.

THE END.

[darkfeanix]

My WOT Prime thoughts, let me show you them

So after that beautiful heart-wrenching reunion in the most recent episode of Wheel of Time, I have Some Thoughts about Mat and Rand. Mat in particular, and how I think several of the choices made in the writing of the show - not just for Mat, but for other characters and the plot as well - have made him much more enjoyable for me as an audience member.

Obviously spoiler warning for both show and book.

I'll preface this by saying that I'm not the biggest fan of book Mat. I'll be doing my best to stick with objective facts relating to the book version, but if something slips in, I apologise – I know he's a very popular character, and I genuinely do not want it to seem like I'm dissing the book version in an attempt to make the show version seem better. Everyone has their preferences. These are only my thoughts and opinions.

Also, this got way longer than intended, so most of it went under a cut.

So, to begin with, Moiraine informs the group from the start that one of them is the Dragon Reborn. I know some people criticised this choice, but the purpose of this post isn't to debate whether or not it was in-character for her. Instead, it's to look at the impact this information had on Mat. We'll come back to this point later. For now, let's talk a bit about the man himself.

Mat in the books is the one who has the most growing up to do; early on in the series, he is called out more than once for his childish behaviour. Mat in the show, arguably, was forced to grow up too quickly as a result of his parents' neglect and abuse, and by the time of the first episode has a bad reputation of an entirely different kind. He's seen as unreliable, he's a gambler, and perhaps worst of all, he's a thief. Yet at the same time he is completely devoted to his younger sisters, in a way neither of his parents seem to be – tying back into that idea of him having grown up too fast. It's almost like in choosing to age up the four Dragon Reborn potentials, the writers created an inverse of his circumstances from the books in order to justify his characterisation.

This is not a criticism. I think it's actually a clever mirroring of his character.

In the first book, I feel that Mat, as a result of him not having his own POV, really only has one major… let's call it a "snare in the Pattern"… and that's his decision to take the ruby-hilted dagger from Shadar Logoth. Apart from that, he is arguably being carried along by the Pattern weaving around Rand in the first book.

In the first season of the show, however, real world circumstances forced the writers to create a second snare: Mat abandoning the group.

(Technically this led to a third snare as well, but we'll get to that later.)

Of all the Emond's Field, this version of Mat is arguably the only one for whom such a plot point could have worked (at least at that point). He's already been established as prone to selfishness and being unreliable, and he's spent over a month being mentally and emotionally scoured by an artefact of unfathomable evil. Even with the connection to the dagger severed by Moiraine, I feel that it makes sense for this version of Mat to pull away from the people he loves. And here we get to a really nice parallel with Rand.

By the end of season one, both Mat and Rand have been confronted by the reality of losing control of themselves and hurting the people they love. And they both make the same decision in response: get as far away from their loved ones as they could. While there may have been some selfishness in Mat's decision to leave, I choose to believe that it had more to do with fear of what he might – or might not – do. Better to cut ties before they find themselves in circumstances where someone is relying on him for something and he fails to come through for them.

Which brings us to the third snare in the Pattern: Moiraine, for fear of what the damage Mat could do if he is the Dragon Reborn, sends word to the Red Ajah to find him. Of course, we know that Mat cannot channel, but Moiraine doesn't. So as a result, Mat ends up Liandrin's prisoner. And boy does she do a number on him in that time.

Mat is still Mat, but we see in the first episode of season two how Liandrin is trying to break him down emotionally. I'm not 100% clear on how long he's been her prisoner, but I believe Alannah says that Egwene and Nynaeve have been at the Tower for five months, so probably a bit longer than that – let's say six months. Six months of being made to feel like nobody cares if he lives or dies. Six of being made to feel worthless. Some of it Mat has probably told himself at some point in his life, but that's still six months of concentrated emotional manipulation and abuse.

And then he makes a friend in Min. Min not only provides him the first decent human company he's had in quite some time, but she also is probably one of the best people to bring out the best parts of Mat's character. One might even go so far as to call that another snare in the Pattern. Ishamael might think he's the mastermind, but even he is subject to the will of the Pattern, and Mat is still a ta'veren in his own right.

By the time Min and Mat make it to Cairhien, Mat is almost back to his old self. I say almost, because we see how badly shaken he is when Min says that he'll kill Rand if he goes with him. I personally think the old Mat would have dismissed that kind of thing out of hand if he heard it; no way he would ever hurt one of his dearest friends. But this Mat has been turned into a vessel of paranoia by an evil dagger and used as an emotional chew toy by Liandrin. He doesn't trust himself anymore.

But you know who he does trust? Rand. When they reunited in Cairhien, even if only briefly, that love and trust was there as though they had never parted. Rand accepted Mat even though he abandoned them. Mat accepted Rand even though he's the Dragon Reborn, and a man who can channel.

At this time in the books, Mat was afraid of Rand, and trying to stay as far away from him as possible. But on the show, Mat has known from the start that either he, Rand, or Perrin are the Dragon Reborn, so it's an idea he's had plenty of time to get used to. And because they've been apart for so long, because Liandrin made him believe that none of his friends cared about him, and because Rand reached out for him with open arms and was just so glad to see him, Mat is able to put aside any worries about the One Power, and just be happy to be reunited with his friend.

And that is why I love show Mat. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

PS: Somebody please get this boy some clean clothes.

[quaranmine]

For the ask game, 36 & 27! :D

36.  Last sentence you wrote

already answered! <3

27.  Favourite line/scene

ough. ask me the hard questions why dont you???? so i thought about doing a firewatch au scene but i actually think the genuine answer is a combination of two separate scenes in How to Be a Human Being that i personally have never emotionally recovered from. these two scenes are also the ones i think of first when i think about the narrative themes of the fanfic. the first would be chapter six, aka the scene that set the theme for the entire fanfic and the one i wrote months ahead of time until i caught up to where it is. it's this part:

"I think we're human," Mumbo said suddenly. "Despite it all, we're humans. I know it’s important to you. You told me on the very first night I came to your house, that before you explained anything to me that I should know you used to be human. And I’ve always remembered that. Because I was the same. I only ate your soul because I wanted to be human again so desperately, and that clearly didn’t work out, but what you said stuck in my mind because I got it.” Mumbo met Grian’s gaze. “I don't think it's like a badge you can lose or some pedigree papers. Maybe we're not biologically humans anymore, but what else are we? Are we Watchers if we reject everything about them? If you could teach Pearl how to be human, then maybe being human isn't defined by any quantitative standard. Maybe it's just a way of living. I think we're human." Grian let the thought settle into his brain and seep into all the cracks. The idea of it just not even mattering what he looked like, or what powers he had, or what he’d done in the past was unfathomable. Like he’d been chasing something this whole time that was right under his nose. "The Watchers always told me I was too human,” Grian said after a moment. “It's why I could never do things right for them. I couldn't look at players without seeing a mirror and I couldn't learn how to accept my supposed superiority to them. The shoe never fit. But now that I’m here, it feels like I’m too much of a Watcher." "I think you're human," Mumbo said. "You don't have to be Them anymore, if you don't want to. They're not here right now, but we are." "I want to be human again," whispered Grian. "It's been too long."

ASUFHKSGHSLGJA???????

but it's also this other sister scene in chapter 8, where grian is struggling in general with the concept of having a soul and how it defines him (and mumbo) against his will. as in, how can he be in control of his own actions but not his own soul? what actually defines who you are? i drew part of this scene last year for hermitober:

it also contains one of my favorite lines in the whole fic, which i sort of feel like is a culmination of a lot of the emotional conflict grian experiences:

“Grian,” Mumbo said, voice unusually clear and confident. “You’re not the sum of every bad thing that has happened to you. Someone needs to tell you that.”

aaaaaaand now i want to reread my own fic !

[jdgo51]

Grief: Heads Up, Hands Off

Today's inspiration comes from:

Lemons on Friday

by Mattie Jackson Selecman

"'Grief doesn’t come with a handbook.

There are guidelines, of course — clinical scales that help determine phases of denial, anger, acceptance, and a few others.

And while a useful tool, serving in some ways as an emotional mile marker, these scales follow anything but a linear order. Grief invokes chaos, shuffling these “steps” and “phases” out of line and often leaving us disoriented and internally off-balance.

Acceptance is the one step in the five clinical stages of grief that felt impossible to me. Denial, depression, even bargaining seemed to take their places at different times on different days. Anger, though rare, certainly reared its head in moments as well. But I remember sitting on my counselor’s deep-cushioned couch, staring at the word acceptance written on her whiteboard and thinking, Impossible.

It seemed so final. So permanent. Like giving up my will to fight in the bloodiest battle I’d ever endured. I rarely concede, and I hate the idea of throwing in the towel. It feels so unnatural not only because it is grossly incompatible with our culture but also because it seems like a personal affront to my strength and fortitude and ability to survive. We live in a white-knuckle world with white-flag disdain. Surrender is weakness, defeat, and vulnerability.

Surrender meant admitting that Ben was really gone.

But in the wake of any kind of loss, we must eventually accept what we can’t change or control. We do this by consciously putting our pain in the hands of the Savior.

You see, in the Kingdom of God, submission is gloriously upside down. Getting low actually lifts you up. The power of surrender in Christ comes from knowing the one who has already laid everything down. Surrender takes every ounce of burden off of us.

Death + Jesus = life.

Sin + Jesus = salvation.

Heartbreak + Jesus = restoration.

And our job is to give it all to Him and get out of the way. Our job is to stop trying and keep trusting. Our job is to believe Jesus when He said, “It is finished,” even though we’re stuck in a nightmare that feels like it will never end (John 19:30). Jesus said,

If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for Me, you will find it. — Matthew 10:39

Jesus doesn’t tell me to fight harder or stay busy; He tells me to give my sorrow to Him and be still. Give Him the hurt, the questions, the fear, and watch Him work.

This was a tough truth for me to face — a difficult command in and of itself but unfathomable in the midst of grieving my husband. It wasn’t the answer I wanted. It also isn’t the answer the world gives.

Jesus doesn’t tell me to fight harder or stay busy; He tells me to give my sorrow to Him and be still. Give Him the hurt, the questions, the fear, and watch Him work.

But as the days slipped further and further from my last with Ben and everyone else’s lives marched on, I felt as though my only hope was to hold tighter, to cling with everything I had, so the world wouldn’t forget his memory and time wouldn’t continue widening the gap between us. I’d convinced myself that maybe if I held on tight enough, if I kept my life just how it was before the day he died, I might be okay.

The first thing I had to surrender was the grief itself. I thought I had.

My prayers and Instagram posts and coffee conversations with people said I had. I truly was doing the best I could, and I continued to praise God along the way. But as hard as I tried, I made plenty of mistakes. The world kept praising me for how well I was handling everything, but behind those praises, I felt like a fraud. I knew all the moments I’d snapped and yelled at my parents or sisters for no reason. I knew the nights I’d drunk myself to sleep because I was afraid to lie awake again in our bed alone. I knew all the people I’d avoided or lied to, pretending I didn’t get their messages because I felt too depleted to talk. I knew the ways and occasions I had handled grieving far from well, and they burdened me. That behavior wasn’t who I wanted to be, and it wasn’t helpful. My deep, unaddressed pain was, as my therapist put it, “coming out sideways.”

On top of the shame I was feeling because of these sideways behaviors, grief had also totally ransomed my memory. No matter how much I strained to remember or how reflective I was, my mind seemed to have taken a complete sabbatical. I simply couldn’t remember things! I couldn’t remember times Ben and I had shared, things he’d said, even intimate physical details about him. It was like my hard drive had been erased. I felt captive to my grief and frustrated that it seemed to be getting the better of me.

Then one bitter December day, I went to see my therapist. I shared with her about my struggle to remember and the regrettable “sideways” reactions.

I kept staring at the whiteboard and at that word: acceptance. I couldn’t imagine accepting everything that had happened, but even more than that, I didn’t want to accept that I had, at times, handled my hurt so poorly. I blamed myself for making mistakes and looking so faithful to the world when I’d failed on many occasions. I’d thought I was doing well, but maybe I couldn’t handle grief as well as I thought I could.

I started to cry with frustration, eyes on the floor. Then my counselor asked me two questions: “What would Ben say to you?” and “What would Jesus say to you?”'

Excerpted from Lemons on Friday: Trusting God Through My Greatest Heartbreak by Mattie Jackson Selecman, copyright Mattie Jackson Selecman.

[laceyyu]

He waited for her patiently on the couch. Once she was back with a cold washcloth, he winced a bit as the cold cloth hit his skin, but recovered quickly. He nodded in agreement, not feeling up to arguing with her even though the gentleman part of him felt he needed to insist on letting her take the bed. That had been his own fault for not thinking about her trying to get him to take the bed. Perhaps he could fall asleep on the couch and make it a moot point.

The compress felt good against his warm skin. He hadn’t realized how hot he was until then, even after his quick shower. His mind hadn’t had any room to attune to his body and comfort with everything that had happened in such quick succession. It was unfortunate he couldn’t take off his shirt with Maya right there, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her presence and comfort was much preferred to any small change in temperature. A part of him felt selfish by letting her take care of him, but he wasn’t going to stop her. They both knew how difficult it was to let yourself be vulnerable. It was difficult to do in their world before the outbreak, much less after when it felt like vulnerability meant death. Yet he knew he was safe. In Redwood and in her home. He wanted Maya to know that he trusted her.

The idea to not talk about anything that had happened was tempting, but she was the only one he could really talk to about everything. It wasn’t as if he could complain to Cass or Renee about Cass or Renee, not that he had anything to complain about with his sister-in-law. The idea of talking to Andy about anything at the moment felt unfathomable. As he had thought before, though, he wanted her to know that he trusted her.

Alex let out a short, bitter laugh. He wasn’t sure where to even begin. Breaking their gaze for a moment, he attempted to gather his thoughts before looking back up to her. “There were some guys at the ranch. Reavers or whatever Ike calls ‘em. He knew the guys, a group was with for a while. They didn’t find any of the bags Nate had hid around, thankfully, but... they wanted to take Cass instead. For... you know.” Alex didn’t know if he would ever be able to say it out loud. The back of his throat began to feel that odd sort of pressure one feels as they attempt to hold it together. “I’m still not sure how I didn’t lose it right then and there or straight up pass out. But Ike was able to hatch his little plan and we played along where he was on their side. Kicked me good in the ribs with those damn steel-toed boots.The main guy took Cass into one of the other rooms before Ike gave me the signal. We took out the three guys left with us. Well, Ike took out two and I took out one. Stabbed him in the chest.” Cass had gone back into the ranch to bring their bodies outside so they wouldn’t rot in the building they had called home. He wondered what she thought about the damage she had done to the man he had killed, though it was nothing compared to what Ike had done to the other two guys with his bat. “Cass had taken out the leader when we got to her already. I’m so fucking scared to even ask what happened to her in that room. Only his shirt was on when we got there.” Alex knew he would ask, eventually. Or give her the opportunity to tell him, to be more specific. It was more important that she had someone to talk to about it than his feelings and the fact that he had no desire to know what he had done to her in that room.

It was impossible for him to keep a few tears from falling now. More energy was being spent trying to not cry than energy he had. “And Renee told us that my brother was back when we finally got back from the ranch. I don’t know how. The shit he had to go through to get here... I can’t even begin to imagine. And I know I should be happy, and I am, but there’s still this part of me that’s angry with him that he wasn’t there in the first place. But it’s not like I can ever say that, it sounds so fucking horrible. I know it’s horrible. And even with the little talk we had before the trip, I still feel like Cass and I are a million miles apart. I leave my life behind in Iris to come find her while she acts like I’m going to break so she doesn’t even try to talk to me and just goes to shack up with Sol instead. Except that thought only makes me feel worse, because she did try, at least a couple of times, but it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes it doesn’t fucking feel good enough. That I’m the one that has to make every fucking sacrifice, that maybe I should’ve just stayed in Iris because it doesn’t feel like she thought about me even once. I hate that she feels guilty because it was my damn choice to come here, so she feels like it’s her fault that I don’t like it here, but maybe she has a point because I can’t tell if my feelings are completely unreasonable or not.” He paused, shaking his head ever so slightly without messing up Maya holding the compress to his face. “Because she’s the youngest and she can’t do any wrong, of course. I’m the one who’s supposed to sacrifice everything so she’s happy. So I should be happy that she’s happy and just... I don’t know. I had been telling myself this whole time that her happiness - my family’s happiness - is the only thing that I should care about. They’re supposed to be my reason.” His everything. The reason he breathes and gets up in the morning and does the blacksmithing stuff he does even though, quite frankly, it’s not his favorite thing in the world by any means. He clenched his fist and released the anger that had made its sudden appearance. “How the hell can I stay mad at her after the ranch?”Alex’s eyes fell to his lap. It wasn’t even everything that was on his mind, but it was a lot of it. He had barely brushed upon his feelings about Andy. Then there was Renee and the boys. The man that he had killed. His mixed feelings on getting over Rosalie and potentially going back to Iris and whether or not he was allowed to want. Poor Maya had been stuck playing nurse while he let out every pent up feeling he’d had for the past couple of months. He sighed. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that, all you did was ask what happened. You don’t have to say anything. I appreciate everything more than you know, really,” he said, silently praying that he hadn't scared her off completely. He wasn’t supposed to take, and he had taken far more than he had ever planned from her at that point.

Looked worse than it felt - it was almost too cliché nowadays. In a world like this where weakness meant life or death, you had to be stronger than you looked. Especially for Maya, when she was on her own for so long. People had tried to take advantage of her because she was a woman on the road with no one to protect her. Now she was in Redwood and though she didn't need to, she still tried to appear like she wasn't as weak as she sometimes felt. "Jesus, Alex," she sighed, helping him move over to her couch so they could sit, "I think I have some cold wash cloths to put on them to help."

Maya helped him sit on the couch before moving to her sink in the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth to run under cold water. It wasn't as good as ice, but it would still feel better. She was listening to him and came back, sitting down and pressing to the cold compression to one of the bruises on his cheek. "Yeah, of course," she said, dabbing him gently, "but you're sleeping in the bed. I can take the couch."

She wasn't going to leave any room for argument on that. He looked like if he slept on the couch he might hurt himself more. She was fine taking the couch. As she sat there, carefully tending to the bruises and cuts on his face (although it did look like Renee had cleaned him up for the most part), she couldn't help but notice how she felt seeing him beat up. She didn't like it - not one bit. This is why she didn't like the idea of him going out there. Why she was worried every day when he didn't come back. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" she asked softly, giving him the opportunity to tell her that he didn't want to talk about it.

[space-ghost-with-the-most]

Encanto Spoilers!!

You know, everyone talks about Julieta and Pepa’s (I know they have accents my laptop keyboard is a BITCH) reaction to Bruno come back to the family after the events to Encanto. Everyone talks about how the sisters felt about his disappearance and why they don’t talk about him and their reasons, etc, etc.

You wanna know what I wanna talk about? Abuela.

She doesn’t have a verse in We Don’t Talk About Bruno, just like Julieta doesn’t either, but hasn’t anyone wondered how she felt about him disappearing?

Because this is making me lose my damn mind, I have some fucking feelings about this. Like the whole point of the movie is The Madrigal’s have a lot of generational familia issues, but oh my god. His wall era must have been absolutely devastating for her.

Think about it like this, I rewatched the scene where we see Pedro, and Bruno looks nearly identical to his father. Alma must’ve been really attached to Bruno because he looks like her dead love and he’s canonically the youngest triplet. He’s her weird estranged baby boy and she puts a lot of standards and expectations on him because of their miracle, their gift, their casita, because of Pedro’s sacrifice. (Just as she puts on Pepa and Julieta, but with Bruno its different because of how much he looks like Pedro and because of his heavy gift.)

The last time she really see’s her son as far as we know, she’s demanding him to look into Mirabel’s future because she is terrified about losing everything she sacrificed for. I think the scene would have been a lot more harsh and frantic, and Abuela said some choice words. And then next day, for the first time since Casita was formed her son’s door is no longer glowing.

Do you know how terrifying that could be?? She has literally no idea if he just left or if he’d dead since the glow is gone. Her husband and her son are gone for her, and she probably blames herself so much. For years she just carries this unfathomable weight of the guilt of shunning her son so much that he either finally cracked and left his family behind or something far darker happened. I feel like one of the reasons no one wants to talk about Bruno is because Alma would get so achingly sad and appear so much older and it makes everyone feel terrible.

You can see the love and sheer relief in her body when Bruno confronts her in the final act. He finally stands up to her for the sake of Mirabel but she’s just overjoyed he’s alive and standing before her again.

Same with Pepa and Julieta, the moment they see Bruno behind their mother every single thing they could be annoyed/mad/weired out about disappears because querido Dios he’s alive! Sure that apology was way too quick and should be done in more depth (ahem, disney give us a tv show i swear) but in that moment, every thing was behind them.  I am overanalyzing and I can’t shut up someone help </3

[rosafulmen]

random  wishlist  of  ideas  i’d  love  to  explore  for  light  (  kind  of  an  ice-breaker,  kind  of  like  a  springboard  )  :

anything  in  her  verses  tag.  or,  when  looking  more  at  the  themes,  explorations  of  guardianship  and  its  failings,  what  makes  a  god  a  god  (  the  question  of  benevolence  verses  malevolence  ),  clawing  oneself  from  the  brink,  themes  of  found  family  and  love  despite  unfathomable  odds.

explorations  of  the  verses  xiii  lore;  including,  but  not  limited  too  :  the  influence  of  etro,  light’s  memories  as  ‘the  saviour’  and  what  that  means  for  this  new  world,  watching  the  war  of  a  world  she  helped  bring  about  (  all  the  while  knowing  most  of  the  world  has  no  memory  of  her  or  her  friend’s  sacrifices  ),  themes  of  faux  gods,  worship  and  the  suspension  of  vahalla.  there  are  so  many  themes  that  can  be  snatched  from  both  xiii  and  xv,  take  your  pick.

i  have  to  properly  write  out  my  kingdom  hearts  verse,  but  literally  anything  in  that.  lightning  and  her  sister  were  from  radiant  garden  but  she’s  very  estranged  from  the  main  crew.  let  her  mentor  the  kids.  let  the  kids  crack  past  her  protective  layer  to  all  those  themes  of  hope,  perseverance,  and  strength  of  heart.  watch  light  panic  when  serah  runs  off  to  help  them.  let  her  begrudgingly  assist  because  she  claims  she  ‘doesn’t  care  about  them’  (  she  absolutely  does ).

anything  to  do  with  the  horror  /  existentialism  of  being  the  saviour???  the  very  fact  light  had  no  guarantee  she  would  remember  people  in  the  next  world  and  vice  versa  so  every  ‘saving’  was  just  a  heralding  to  death.  that  liminal  space  of  being  like  ‘we  have  no  promise  of  tomorrow,  so  let’s  live  for  today’.

same  deal  with  l’cie,  just  a  different  topping.  what  if  tomorrow  our  brands  advance  and  we  lose  ourselves.  what  makes  us  who  we  are.  what  makes  us  monsters  ?  just  all  the  horror  of  gran  pulse  and  seeing  those  cie'th  stones.

angst.  i  am  an  angst  fiend.  again,  the  xiii  verse  deals  with  a  lot  of  themes  of  loss  /  death  and  how  people  cope  with  it.

anything  where  light  is  a  bodyguard  sounds  absolutely  hilarious.  let  her  make  flying  commentary  under  her  breath  while  your  muse  holds  it  together.  let  them  take  her  to  places  she  would  HATE.

i’ll  probably  expand  on  this  later,  this  is  just  a  dump.

character  specific:

hope  —  to  this  day,  i  have  still  not  roleplayed  with  a  hope  and  i  am  DESPERATE  to  explore  the  bond  between  them.  give  me  all  the  themes  of  family  and  light  coming  to  terms  with  how  poorly  she’s  treated  serah  through  him.  let  her  do  right  by  hope.  let  her  love  him,  protect  him  and  watch  him  become  a  man.  give  me  all  the  themes  of  how  his  name  embodies  what  he  is  to  her.

serah  —  a  lot  of  the  same  themes  as  hope.  ALSO  if  serah’s  want  to  indulge  in  my  snow/light  angst  i  will  just  eat  that  up  for  breakfast.  it’s  the  absolute  self-hatred  lightning  has  that  her  sister  is  in  crystal /  dead  and  she’s  alive  and  she’s  still  managing  to  ruin  her  life.  how  serah  responds  is  totally  up  to  you.  also  themes  of  sisterhood  and  companionship.  let  them  go  to  coffee  shops.  let  light  teach  her  how  to  do  her  hair  and  makeup  when  their  mother  died.  PLEASE.

snow  —  hi,  i  ship  them.  outside  of  that,  just  the  development  of  their  bond  ;  where  light  once  considered  him  an  adversary,  now  he  is  a  friend.  how  his  staunch  optimism  imprinted  on  her  to  the  degree his  ambivalence  in  returns  gave  her  the  worst  anxiety  attack  of  her  life.

fang  —  how  two  women  can  be  the  same  but  also  very  different.  themes  of  guardianship  and  looking  after  those  smaller/weaker  than  you  (  the  costs,  the  sacrifices,  etc  ), drawing  strength  from  each  other.  the  growing  pains  and  awkwardness  of  two  people  primed  for  war  now  having  to  all  but  domesticate  at  the  end  of  LR.

vanille  —  a  lot  of  the  same  themes  of  sisterhood  that  i  applied  to  serah.  exploration  of  godhood  and  its  flaws  (  girlie  you  absolutely  did  not  need  to  pull  your  shit  in  LR,  love  you  ).

sazh  —  dajh’s  awkward  babysitter,  lightning.  i  love  the  role  he  took  in  xiii  as  a  sort  of  semi-parental  figure  /  guide.  he  wasn’t  overbearing  or  pushed  boundaries,  but  there  was  a  mutual  exchange  of  ideas  and  advice.  let  him  complain  his  bones  are  old  and  creaking  but  he’s  loving  every  second  of  it  and  light  just  smirks  so  sardonically  and  ups  the  anti.

[womenofwonder]

Option on RWBY ships:

Btw, I don’t usually ship characters. Romance is usually the least interesting part of the story for me so expect a lot of meh.

Arkos: obviously I love this, it’s perfect

Blacksun: ehh, it’s cute. I started out feeling kinda meh, it was sweet but not really interesting, but now it’s growing on me. Ironically the same thing is happening with Bumblebee, although I still like Blake and Yang better platonically

Bunanas: so this is a ship between Velvet and Sun, and it’s honestly really cute to imagine even if it is completely random. I like it better then Blacksun…I think?

Candy Cane: this is just weird. I can’t imagine Nora being anything but a older sister to Oscar. The age gap makes it creepy too, not the four years is much of a gap, but when your teenagers it’s a big gap.

Chocolate Arc: this is hilarious to imagine but obviously yeah, Coco isn’t going to fall for someone like Jaune

Cinnabun: I barely know anything about Yatsuhashi but he and Velvet are cute, I guess? Still like her better with Sun

ClockRose: heck no!

Coconuts: again, can’t see Sun doing anything but annoying Coco. I really don’t like the whole ‘badass jerk of a girl falls for goof ball trope.’ It always ends up feeling sexist in several ways

Combat Boots: honestly outside of an AU I can’t see Yang ever forgiving Mercury much less falling in love with him. Also Mercury just doesn’t deserve her

Combat goggles: I feel like Yang and Neptune would have fun causally dating each other and slowly realizing they actually like (Blake/Sun/Jaune/whoever) and become each other’s wingmen. That fanfic better be lying around somewhere

Crimson Lotus: okay, if I didn’t love Renora and Rosegarden so much I’d probably ship this. It’s really cute

Crimson Sun: this feels like an excuse to write lemons of the two hottest characters

Crimson wings: look I understand most of the shipping heroes with villains because they’re both hot and the villain/hero dynamic is always fun. But Cardin…he’s not even hot. He’s not even interesting. And yet people ship him with Ruby? Why?

Daddie Issues: you know I see where this is coming from but they would just end up murdering each other.

Dairy Farm: obviously this is downright creepy in cannon, but in an au where Neo isn’t evil and both are closer in age, this would be adorable. I feel like Neo’s main problem is she’s incredibly lonely—other then Roman no one bothers to understand or talk to her. If Oscar reached out to her, and she began to protect him…it would be perfect. In way even better then Rosegarden because I think Neo would still be a bit of pycho even when good, and it would be fun to see her lose it when Salem hurts him.

Ilia/Adam: I just want to say I am forever grateful the show went out of its way to avoid this obnoxious, cliche ship from being canon

Dragon slayer: I see why people ship Jaune and Yang, I really do. They’re both the team mom/dad of their team, they’ve got the whole goofball/badass thing going (which is a trope I do like when the badass isn’t a jerk), they both have a good sense of humor, etc. But I just can’t see them as romantic. It feels really weird. I can’t even explain why. I understand shipping them but I really can’t ship them myself.

Emercury: I really love this ship, but I also don’t mind at all if the show decides to make them platonic. I enjoy their relationship in general and it works either way.

Oscar/Emerald: again, feel creepy. I love the idea of a sibling relationship and can’t see them possibly being romantic even without the age gape.

Cinder/Qrow: yeah again. Both are sexy and good for angsty lemons. I’m not into that stuff so I don’t ship them

Fall Stinger: I just don’t know why anyone would ship Tyrian with anyone. Unless it was Salem and even that is super creepy

Firerobber: I like villain relationships but Roman already has Neo and Cinder is a hot mess. Literally

Firewall: I don’t know why anyone would ship Watts with anyone. He’s even worst less ship-able then Tyrian

Footloose: I don’t actually ship it but just imagine Mercury and Melanie bonding over weaponized feet.

Freckles: Yeah this is just painful. The two most adorable characters (Penny and Oscar), who go through the worst things imaginable. It’s endless fluff, angst, and whump, and I love cute romance and tragic romances, so this is definitely something I ship.

Frostbite: seriously, this is so weird and toxic. Having Adam fall for Weiss or vice versa. Maybe it would work in an AU or something but it’s just too creepy

Funky Beats: it’s cute, I ship it.

Gelato: yeah I love healthy villainous relationships! Neo and Roman are freaking adorable, and I’m sad that we didn’t see more of them together.

Grandmasters: I obviously don’t ship Salem and Ozpin because that’s just creepy, but I do like their romance. I like tragic romances, and this probably the most tragic one in existence

Greek Lotus: I don’t see the chemistry and crashes two of my favorite ships so…

Green Knight: well, she kinda helped kill his last girlfriend so…unless it’s AU this isn’t going to work. Even if it is an AU. This feels like another ship made solely for lemons

Velvet/Cardin: yeah, a bigot changing his mind when he falls in love with a minority isn’t cute. Isn’t sweet. It isn’t romantic. I don’t even excuse lemons that use this trope. Even porn ought to be above that

Weiss/Cardin: WOULD EVERYONE STOP SHIPPING CARDIN WITH PEOPLE

Hummingbird: it’s hard to ship something when you only know one character, but I was interested in the theory that Qrow was actually Ruby’s father. But then in season 7 Qrow’s description of Summer made me rethink it, and it didn’t sound anything like how you’d describe a romantic relationship. So I don’t really like that theory anymore

Iceberg: this is just cliche and boring. I get them dating but it wouldn’t last that long

Flynt/Weiss: I really love this one, it’s my favorite ship with Weiss. I don’t want it to actually happened in cannon because that would be random, but I feel like it would be fun for both their characters. And they both share an interest in music. I’m imagining an AU where he gets her into jazz and she starts singing it at all her concerts to the horror of Jaques.

Iron Maiden: honestly what. Why. Gross

Iron witch: well I definitely see why people like it. I actually wouldn’t mind it being cannon, It’d be a good combination of funny/tragic and I’d like to see Glynda mentoring Winter

Jailbirds: this just feels forced and also Qrow is probably too old for her. I like their relationship and don’t want it to be romantic

Knight fall: lemon ship. Moving on

Knight Life: I feel like Jaune just gets shipped with everyone but this is cute I guess

Lancaster: it’s cute, but I can’t ship it because it feels cliche. I was worried that Jaune was going to be her love interest when they first met and was relieved to see him with Pyrrha instead. It just feels forced and boring to have him end up with Ruby

Pyrrha/Mercury: this really popular for some unfathomable reason. I like Mercury but Pyrrha deserves better

Marrowgold (May/Marrow): I just don’t see it

Nikong: Pyrrha and Sun would be cute together, but I don’t really love this ship. It’s kinda meh.

Nora’s Arc: no. Just no. It technically would work but their platonic relationship is way too good to lose

Old Silver: this is Maria/Pietro, and I think it’s adorable. They both strike me as really flirty for their ages and both are very good mentors. They can be the crazy grandparents of the team

Ozglyn: just don’t see it

Phoenix: yeah Raven was a horrible girlfriend/wife. I don’t ship her Taiyang

QuickSilver: Ruby deserves better than Mercury.

Rehab (Qrow/Glynda): the fact that this is called rehab explains why I don’t ship it

ReNora: yeah, this is probably my favorite ship. I don’t think I have to explain why.

Robotic Knight: I briefly shipped this but now disagree

Rosegarden: I really love Rosegarden, they’re just too adorable together, though the whole Ozpin does make it a little awkward

Rosewick: I can’t see this happening, even in an AU

Coco/Fox: I don’t know enough about Fox to really ship them, but the fact that Coco canonically slaps his butt during battle definitely makes me want to

Mercury/Neo: I could see this working. It would be pretty cute

Silent Knight: again, it would have to be an AU and even then I don’t see it working

Snowbird: so at first I really liked the idea of Qrow and Winter being ex’s, but now that I think about it he has to be at least twenty years older then her. Also, I have to say that while they have chemistry I think they would just end up killing each other

Speakeasy (Flynt/Coco): I got to say I like this ship and could see them having a lot of chemistry together

Strawbanna: I just can’t see Ruby and Sun together. It feels weird

Sunflakes: Can’t see it working

Sunflowyr (Ren/Yang): don’t see any chemistry. Again this just seems random

Tauradonna: this is obviously as toxic as you get.

The Hunt (Cardin/Blake): stop shipping Cardin with anyone!

Mercury/Cinder: Mercury is way too young, and even if he wasn’t this would be really weird. Also Cinder makes him look like a stable, peaceful person, so also no.

Toxic Petals: I swear I’m done with this. No more Cardin, Tyrian, or Watts ships. They too gross

Velveteen Knight: Aw, they’d be cute together

White Knight: I really hate this ship. It’s so obnoxious and boring, and nearly falls into the jerky badass/goofball trope I hate

Winter Soldier: ew, no, Ironwood is like her dad

Wise Dragon: anyone care to explain why this is so popular? Sage barely has any character to him, I can’t ship him with anyone

Yellow rose: Yeah, I kinda ship this, but again, it’s difficult when you barely know one character

IronQrow: I understand why you would ship this but I just don’t see it. Guys can hug without being gay you know

Martial arts: why?

Noah’s Arc: why?

Sea Monkeys: again I understand why you could ship it but I don’t. They’re obviously just friends to me

Shovel Knight: like most Oscar ships it feels weird. Jaune is obviously a big brother to him

TaiQrow: As funny as it is for Tai to sleep with every member of his team, I don’t ship it.

Fair game: I really can’t stand Clover so again, don’t ship it

Achilles heel: Cinder literally kills Pyrrha, why would you ship them?

Baked Alaska: lemon ship

Black glass: annnd, another lemon ship.

Blood Mint: yeah I don’t see Emerald and Ruby ever being a couple

Catmelon: I found Ilia’s crush on Blake kinda cringy and I can’t see them being a couple

ColdMurder (Weiss/Cinder): even in an au I don’t see it working

Cold Steel (Penny/Winter) eeewww, they’re practically sisters

Cream Machine (Neo/Penny): I mean…if she wasn’t evil…and wasn’t so much older…it might work? Maybe?

Crosshares: cute but I feel like Velvet is too much of a doormat for Coco

Digital Clock: Ciel obviously didn’t care much for Penny, and she was barely a character at all. I don’t see it

Pyrrha/Nora: don’t see it, and also can’t stand the idea of breaking up the two best ships

Falling Petals: I get that Cinder is hot, but can we stop shipping her with the kids she’s trying to murder? Because I can see several things wrong with that

Freezerburn: again, for no reason that I can think of this ship just doesn’t work for me. Much like Dragonslayer it just feels weird

Gingersnaps (Penny/Nora): that would be chaotic. I can’t really see them romantically though like most Penny ships it would be cute

Guilty Conscience (Bree/Winter): oh please no. They really don’t have any reason to be together

Ladybug: I just can’t see Blake with Ruby at all. Blake feels way to old even though she’s only older by two years.

Milk and Cereal (Ruby and Pyrrha): I guess it would work but I just don’t any chemistry

Mint chocolate (Emerald/Coco): if Coco managed to forgive her for everything that happened at Beacon I could maybe see this happening. There is some chemistry

Mommy issues: Nah, can’t see this working out.

Monochrome: Blake and Weiss have never had any romance chemistry despite plenty of opportunity to have it, so again, I see them as strictly platonic and shipping them feels almost like incest. I know that doesn’t make sense

Nordic Winter: I can’t see Weiss handling Penny, but again, any Penny ship is pretty cute

Nuts and Dolts: I would ship, but I like them together platonically too well. Definitely understand the ship, though I find it funny that Ruby, who insist she likes weapons better then people, would fall in love with a personified weapon. I know that’s probably racist against robots

Overheating (Penny/Cinder): I take back what I said about every Penny ship being cute

PennyWeiss: but this one is pretty cute

Pink Lemonade: can you imagine the chaos of Yang and Nora dating each other? They both need someone with a cooler head to keep them in check

Scheenoks: with Weiss’s fangirling I can definitely see were this is coming from, but Weiss is too mean for Pyrrha

Steadfast: I really don’t ship any of the ace-ops with anyone. I found them all boring and annoying except for Marrow

Strawberry Shortcake (Neo/Ruby): not seeing it

Sugar Rush (Ruby/Nora): Again, too much chaos. They both need chill partners. And I love Rosegarden and ReNora too much

Thunder cat (Blake/Nora): don’t see any chemistry between them

WhiteRose: I can see why this is shipped and I don’t dislike WhiteRose shippers. I just prefer Rosegarden, and find Weiss and Ruby working better together romantically

Bumblebee: again, I see this working better platonically, not romantically. It kind of annoyed me at first, but it is growing on me, much like Blacksun. I still like Blacksun better though

Enabler: No.

[hello-everyfandom]

“I’m doing this for you!”

Warnings: Mentions of death and war

Pairing: Sirius Black x PotterSister!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: James forbids his reader from going on an undercover mission for his sister

(More angst for you all!)

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s not up to you, James,” you argued.

“Like hell it is! You’re my little sister, and I forbid it.”

“James, perhaps if you’ve for once decided not to speak out of your arsehole, then we could continue. But I must insist, that this decision was not, and is not yours to make, entirely so.”

From where you sat, your older brother leaned against the kitchen counter. His arm crossed against his body and the other against his chin in frustration. The walls of his hidden away home were quiet as the Potter twins separated into the kitchen to speak amongst themselves as siblings. 

He squinted his eyes, cleaning his glasses on the bottom of his cotton shirt before replying.“And if not mine, then whose decision?”

“It’s my own. It’s my decision.”

“You cannot! It’s... it’s not even debatable.”

“James,” you said sternly, “this is happening.” 

James looked at his sister, only younger by several minutes, and yet still saw you as a child.“Don’t you understand it is dangerous? More dangerous than you could ever understand?” he wanted to take you by the shoulders and shake you vigorously.

“As if I were even slightly unaware of the dangers of this,” you said sarcastically. 

“And yet you are still stupid enough to agree to it?” James slipped his glasses back on with shaky fingers.

“Stupid? You’ve always been overprotective, but now this is just bordering abusive.” you lightly joked, hoping to see a smile reach across his face to mirror yours. Your smile dropped when you noticed his grave expression, pale to the skin. 

“James-”

“I’m delighted you can joke about it, the idea of dying a grizzly, cruel death.

”You groaned at his overdramatic stature, “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I? Y/N, you seem to be underreacting. This, this mission, this undercover assignment is mental, it’s practically a death wish.”

“I’m a skilled witch, I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not arguing you’re not phenomenal at duels, but this is much different then Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Y/N.”

You thought back to your conversation with Dumbledore. He had admitted to a close group of the Order that they were in dire need of Death Eater intel. Most of the people he had told refused considering the danger it’d put themselves and their family, however, he turned to you, the youngest Potter to take up the responsibility of joining the inside ranks of Lord Voldemort. You agreed quickly, understanding the current losing position of the Order. It was telling James that was more difficult than ever.

“Do you not understand?” James asked sharply.

“Of course I do, James. But, it’s my responsibility.”

“It’s selfish, is what it is.”

“What!?” you exclaimed.

“You’re willing to risk your life, for what? What about us? Your family?”

“I’m doing this for you!” you shouted angrily. The door creaked open slightly, showing Lily’s figure holding tiny baby Harry in her arms. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I’m putting Harry to bed and thought he would want to say goodnight to his favorite aunt.” You stood to meet her, gathering your nephew in your arms. “Is everything alright?” she looked worriedly to her husband and to her sister in law.

“Yes.”

“No.” the two of you said at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Prune, your father seems to be more of a prick today than usual,” you cooed to Harry who seemed to grow every day. You gave your nephew the nickname Prune after his birth when you noticed how wrinkled he was, like a dried prune fruit.You held Harry close, reminding yourself why this mission was of extreme importance. You were doing it to create a world for Harry to live in, a world that was safe from prejudice and violence. James whispered a soft goodnight and kissed his forehead, handing Harry back to his mother. She glanced between the Potter twins.

“Sirius and I will be in the living room,” you nodded in response as the kitchen door shut behind her.

“James, please.”

“I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you would agree to this?”

“That’s the problem without a key or an answer. You wouldn’t understand, even if you were me, James, you’d never understand.”

James bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, “Explain it to me then, because it is rather unfathomable to understand why you’d go through such great lengths to ensure your own death in the unfortunate and probable circumstance that anyone finds out you’re a spy.”

“Fine then. For Harry.”

“Harry?” he asked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I’m doing this for Harry. You wouldn’t understand because he is your son, it is your job to stay here, in your home with your wife and protect your family here. It is my job to go out and protect your family from out here.” You said after taking a deep breath, “And, if I die, then at least I die trying to protect my own blood, my nephew. And that’s as good as any reason there is.”

“Y/N...”

“Don’t you see? It is not up to me, or you, it is about Harry. It is about winning the war. It’s about ensuring his safety, you know what the prophecy says about his birth! Sacrifices come in all shapes and forms, James. The entirety of this secret home is a sacrifice in itself. I just wish you could understand.”

“Right, well. What about us?” James asked firmly, “What about us? What happens if you die? What about us? Me? Harry? Sirius?”

“I expect you’ll understand the reasoning behind my death, then.” 

“But I won’t! All I’ll even comprehend is the fact that my baby sister is dead and it’d be her own fault!”

“It’s not confirmed I actually will die, have you already picked out my casket then?” you said sarcastically once again making James roll his eyes in complete frustration.

“Yes, well, it may as well be in writing.”

You looked to the ceiling as if searching for guidance in this conversation. “If the roles were reversed if I had just had a child with Sirius, would you stay behind closed doors during this mission? Or would you go?”

“Yes, but that’s different-”

“How?!”

“Because I can’t lose you too!” James snapped making your heart drop. Just barely a year ago, your parents had passed away due to nasty Dragon Pox. Though it seemed to hit you harder, losing your parents, but James? He always placed himself as the protector, the brother, and he had never fully expressed his sadness but rather tended to your broken cries. He’d much rather focus on his friends and his growing son than the ache of losing his parents, but the idea of losing his sister? He could barely process the idea without being in utter agony.

“James...”“

Y/N, Dumbledore can find someone else to take your place. Stay here, we can set up the living room for you. I can’t lose my sister too.”

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and encouraged your tears to burrow back in your eyes in “I can’t do that. I leave tomorrow morning before dawn.”

“Y/N...” James nearly cried. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You can’t do that, James. Not with Harry and Lily. Not with the target on your back. You know that.”

“But what if you fail?”

“What if I succeed?”

James swallowed and hurried to wipe his tears of worry, “You’ll come back?”

“I’ll try my hardest to.” 

“I mean it, Y/N. You come back or I swear I’ll put dung bombs in your bed again.”

You sent him a sad smile, “I’ll try, James.”

James pushed himself off of the counter and entrapped you in a brotherly hug. He placed his chin on the top of your head, already missing his twin more than anything.

“Did you remember to pack panties?” he joked in a high pitched voice making you snort. That was something your mother used to ask before every family trip they took in the summer up to northern England. It was nice to hear it once again, maybe for the last time.

“I love you,” you said seriously.

“I love you too, now. Well. Go kick ass and make the Potters proud.”

You sent James a grateful smile before exiting to the living room. You passed Lily who gave you a knowing look and entered the kitchen, likely to convene with her husband. Sirius sat facing away from you, looking deep into the embers of the fireplace.

“Sirius?”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“Not you too!” you laughed, 

“‘ve just convinced James now ‘ve got to convince you? Seems like you lot have already planned my funeral and everything.” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t say funeral. You’re not going to die.”

“I hope not.” you sat on the arm rest where Sirius sat. Playing with the hair on the back of his neck, he shuddered under your touch.

“As much as I hate to disagree with James, I do understand.” Sirius huffed lightly.

“It’s a duty that we signed up for when joining the Order. And now, with Lord Voldemort and the whispers of a traitor in our ranks?”

“I know.” Sirius turned, holding your soft hand in his and placing his other on your thigh. “Will you at least promise me one thing?” 

“Anything.”  

“Will you marry me when you come back?”

You beamed through wet tears, breathing deeply, “I will marry you if I come back.”

“No,” you stopped, Sirius looked at you with a firm look, “When you come back, you will marry me.”

“When I come back, I will marry you.” You repeated before placing a loving kiss on Sirius’ lips. He brushed your tears away and kissed your cheeks and then your lips. He whispered words of love and courage to you. 

That night was spent in front of the fire in the Potter home. There was a comfortable silence that settled into the bones and veins of each and every one of you, neither words were spoken but only small murmurs. And when the morning arose, you placed a confident smile on your lips and hugged your loved ones goodbye, giving Harry a gentle squeeze on his fat newborn arm. As you apparated away, James and Sirius both let out a heavy sigh.

“She’ll be alright,” Lily assured, rubbing James’ back.“I think so,” Sirius clenched his jaw, already missing you immensely. 

As days, weeks, and months passed, you were barely able to send letters to Dumbledore nevertheless to Sirius. But, when they did receive letters, they were short and written in a hurry.

“All okay, don’t worry. Love you.”

“Easier said than done, missing you.”

“Awful people. Awful acceptance.”

“Dark mark. Love you always.”

It was only until Dumbledore told the Order that you had successfully infiltrated the Death Eaters in London. You had received classified information and had relayed it to Dumbledore meaning your homecoming would be within the next few weeks. James felt rejoiced in the idea of his sister coming home and nearly bounced across the walls. Lily noticed her husband was nearly going pale with worry each and every day you were gone, but the minute he heard of your future return, and excited redness returned and she sighed in relief. Sirius, with James’ help, purchased a ring they thought you’d rather enjoy cementing the engagement beyond just words. Sirius was nervous but mostly excited to be able to safely hold you in his arms without his horrifying imagination placing you in a dungeon being tortured somewhere. The day of your arrival, Sirius and James rocked back on their heels anxiously, constantly looking towards the fireplace for a floo.

“How about I put the kettle on, yeah? I’m sure she won’t be arriving till later this afternoon,” Lily bit back the nervousness and frightened feeling she had felt. Past five in the evening, nearly time for supper, James was already writing a letter to Dumbledore asking for sister’s return. He moved to the kitchen to open the window and place the letter in his owl’s mouth. His ears perked up at the noise of the floo explosion going off and raced to the living room.

“Blimey, thought you’d never get here!” He looked around the room to see his wife with her hand on her mouth in shock and his best friend on his knees on the floor. He shifted to look at Dumbledore who had just floo’d in. 

“What’s going on? Where’s my sister?”He cleared his throat and sighed with a heavy frown. Upon hearing the news, James thought he’d nearly pass out. Maybe he did. Because he couldn’t remember sitting down on the living room couch. Sirius shook vigorously, the feeling of sudden grief and sorrowful stricken emotions that took over. Dumbledore repeated himself again. You were coming home, nearly two blocks away from the Order headquarters and more than a few blocks from the Potter home, when you were ambushed. Sirius found himself needing to throw up, but swallowed his bile. Death Eaters, who were earlier informed by a traitor that you were working for the Order, took you, tortured you, and killed you. Nothing was left but the broken and beaten body that was dropped off at the steps of headquarters. You were so close, you were so close to being home, to being safe. 

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 6

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’ve added a tag list for those who wish to stay updated with this story! Just message me if you wish to be added <3

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Six: Moonlight Meetings

The contracts were beginning to make sense. Turns out, there weren’t nearly as many for Elain to sort through as she first expected. It seemed that the Band of Exiles had had a pretty stagnant first year whilst staying in the mortal lands, with their biggest success lying in the Declaration of Peace Between Fae and Mortal Realms achieved on the anniversary of the Hybern War.

Elain had gone through each contract and made a note of it in her own diary: the contract between the Spring Court and the human lands to organise trade routes in the future, the agreement of a ceasefire on trespassing fae in favour of imprisonment, etc. There had even been copies of contracts between other humans that had most likely occurred at these weekly meetings: such as the Nolan’s agreeing to 100 shipments of Ashwood Weaponry per month to the Darlingtons, and the reinforcement of internal borders.

Elain had sat with Nuala and a few pots of tea in the library, and by the time she stretched her legs to take a turn around the room, the sun was plummeting towards the horizon. She liked it. She liked the feeling of her hand aching from her meticulous note-taking, she liked that the pages of her new notebook (a gift from Rhysand) had slowly began to fill up, she liked that she now had detailed questions to ask Jurian, Vassa and maybe even Lucien.

If anything, she liked that tonight she would sleep, her eyes tired from reading by the candlelight and her brain fizzing with the numbers of stock, armies and debt.

The library was at the back of the house, with delicate yet large glass windows that looked out onto the Manor’s Garden. So far, Elain had avoided the grounds, mostly because one look of the greenery told her that there was nothing for her to do. Whoever tended to these gardens had a similar mind to hers, it was wild and restless. A garden belonging to a true cottage, her father would say.

“Lord Lucien is home,” Nuala’s velvet voice swam into the air as she spoke without looking up from her book. The shadow wraith’s always had been Elain’s closest friends, and she liked the side she got to see of them, the one she was sure no other had yet had the privilege.

“Oh…good,” Elain said non-committedly, forcing her eyes back to her notes which she’d already preened to perfection. Sighing, Elain looked over her and Nuala’s make-shift joint desk, and without thinking, she reached for a local map.

It was strange, to look over a map of lands which felt both so familiar and so foreign. With her finger, Elain could trace the path from her first childhood home, the Manor down by the lake, up and up to their runt of a cottage so close to the border, and then a little east to their other home. Elain’s hand recoiled from the paper. That home was cursed. That was the home from which she had been stolen from.

“Do you miss it, being human?” Nuala asked. Elain peered at her. She’d always found the term ‘lesser fae’ to be entirely unbefitting. Nuala was perhaps the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen; her skin was a deep grey and her hair a shifting black in which shadows seemed to fall in whisps as it moved. Her eyes were uncannily wide, and her irises were of purest black and filled her entire lids.

“I don’t think so,” Elain answered softly, her finger running back to that first home. The home in which her parents were alive and well. “But I avoided coming here for a long while because of that reason.”

“You wanted to go back?” Elain nodded, a small shift of her head.

“Becoming fae didn’t make sense to me for a long time. I didn’t understand how to be fae, despite the body. When I looked around all I could see were my sister’s, who fit in so well at the Night Court and I just…didn’t.” Elain looked at her friend. “I feel terrible about it. About how I tried to come back to Graysen. It was the first time in my life I’d made a stand and it was for something so, hollow.”

“You’re not a terrible person for feeling as though you don’t belong, and wishing that you did.” Nuala tilted her head, her pin straight hair falling with a trained precision across her bare shoulder.

“No, but I feel terrible because…I still feel that way, to some extent.” Elain sighed, tucking up her legs on the chair and leaning her head back.

“I got into a fight with Jurian today – I slapped him -” Elain peeked a look at Nuala and was pleased to see her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes bright with amusement. “I know. But what he said was true, and I can’t stop thinking about it. He saw me during the war and saw how I was so desperate to be human again, and he thinks I’m here for that reason-” Nuala opened her mouth to protest, “I know, it’s stupid, but…what if I am here for that reason, and I just don’t realise it yet? Because Nuala, if I am, I can’t – I can’t forgive myself for that, I can’t do that to-”

Elain cut herself off by biting her tongue. She’d only spent a day and a night in Lockhart Manor, but Elain was sure she could feel the bond. Often she didn’t, then every couple of months, something would happen, she would feel some emotion that wasn’t hers or have dreams of places she’d never been to, and she’d just know that it was him. But being here, actually being around him, she felt herself turning towards him the way flowers turn to the sun.

“I don’t think it’s strange, if you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, to want to belong somewhere else,” Nuala spoke carefully, slowly, as though every word carried weight, “But just because you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, does not mean your only other option is the human lands.”

“What? I might belong somewhere else in Prythian?” Nuala stretched and leaned back in her own chair.

“Prythian is a large place, and you have an eternity ahead of you. You do not need to rush in finding somewhere you can settle, travel around for a bit, see the world. There is not the same pressure for you to be a wife as you had when you were human, maybe you could try just being Elain for a while?” Nuala yawned after she spoke, a sign that she was well and truly relaxed. Elain just hummed, her mind whirring as she looked back at the map, her finger drifting back to that last home, the one she had been ripped from.

Just then Elain noticed how the sun and well and truly dipped behind the horizon, casting the world in shadow. The night sky looked unbearably dull compared to the thriving chaos of the Night Court’s evenings, but there was something familiar in the mundanity, something that allowed Elain to be the magical thing in the world, not the other way around.

“Vassa and Jurian are preparing to leave,” Nuala said without opening her eyes.

“Ugh, teach me your ways.” Elain joked, and a sly smile pulled at the shadow wraith’s lips.

“No, because then you won’t need me, and I won’t get to come with you to see the world.” Elain paused, and looked at her friend.

“You’d come with me?” It was now Nuala’s turn to peer at her.

“Of course, don’t tell the High Lord but, since being Under the Mountain, I’ve rather missed the world, and I’d very much like to see it.”

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” Elain shivered. She’d never bene able to truly comprehend what had occurred in those 50 years. The idea of her friend being subject to such atrocities for a time longer than she had been alive, it was unfathomable.

“I remember your mate being there,” Nuala said, tentatively. Every muscle in Elain’s body went rigid. She’d assumed, somewhere along the line, that Lucien must’ve been there with Tamlin when they’d been taken, but Feyre had never confirmed, she’d been surprisingly elusive of the specifics of what had occurred. She couldn’t think about it. Because the instant she considered the torture Lucien must’ve faced, she began to feel herself lose control.

“Speaking of your mate,” Nuala murmured, and Elain didn’t miss the slightly pleased look in her friend’s eye at having gotten a reaction out of her.

Just then a knock came from the door casing Elain to turn in her chair sharply, by the time she turned back, Nuala had already disappeared into the shadows.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“Oh come on Luci, it’ll be fun,” Vassa goaded, looking a bit more like herself than she’d been the past few days. Her hair was iridescent, and her gown was of deepest emerald, with golden gemstones that matched the simple, modest tiara upon her head. Lucien snorted.

“Oh yeah…fun. Well you can have fun for me, but I’m not going.”

“You might as well go for the free whiskey. That’s the only reason I’m interested.” Jurian grinned, throwing a far too casual arm over the queen’s shoulders, who huffed a laugh and shook him off.

“No touching Jurian. This dress is worth more than your head.”

“Ooh – not sure about that love.” Jurian grinned back, and Lucien observed the way the two mental mortals bounced off each other.

“Ugh, I don’t know who I feel worse for, you or the Nolan’s.”

“Oh it’s not just the Nolan’s going,” Jurian grinned, “I have it on good authority that Delilah will be there too.”

“Oh, Delilah,” Vassa hummed, twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.

“Shut up the both of you,” Lucien rolled his eyes.

“Well if it doesn’t work out with the mate, just know you have a small army of humans who wouldn’t mind a piece of you,” Jurian chortled.

“Men and women,” Vassa smiled at Jurian, “I heard that Lord Smith wouldn’t mind warming himself by the fireling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I trust you got her home safe then,” Lucien pointed at Jurian, hoping his easy smile covered the anxiety that had been growing over the day as he became convinced that something terrible had happened to Elain now that she’d been removed from sight.

“Oh, the Archeron is home safe alright,” Jurian said in a tone Lucien couldn’t quite read.

“Good…well then, you two bests be off,” Lucien turned back to the house. “Don’t stay out too late kids.”

“Alright dad,” Vassa scoffed.

“Oh and Luci,” Jurian was halfway down the garden path, “Don’t make us regret leaving you home alone with your mate!” He winked at him that time and then he and Vassa were two colourful blurs in the summer evening, their laughter making music with the chirping of cicadas.

Something cold ran the length of Lucien’s spine. He would be home, alone, with Elain, for an entire night.

Fuck.

***

“Come in?”

Elain already knew it was Lucien before his head of fiery hair, now unbound, peered at her from around the door.

“Good evening, Lady, um…may I come in?”

Elain looked at him over the papers she’d randomly grabbed and was now pretending to read. Nuala certainly could have given her a little more warning.

Lucien looked so shy, half standing behind the door, and Elain found all her anger at him having sent her home evaporating. He was just as confused as she was about this whole bond thing, it was something they’d have to figure out together.

Elain gave a small nod and Lucien seemed to let loose a long breath before he walked into the room, turning around to shut the door and then turning to face her. Lucien glowed in daylight, out there in the woods it looked at though the sun were always reaching for him, as though it, like so many others, adored him. But there was something so alluring about Lucien by candlelight. The shadows and the orange light that moved over him, he seemed darker somehow, more dangerous. More intoxicating.

Lucien cleared his throat, standing with his hands held behind his back, and Elain adverted her eyes.

“I’ve come to apologise, Lady.”

“Apologise?” Elain repeated numbly. She hadn’t been expecting this, to her knowledge, men didn’t apologise.

“For how I spoke to you, earlier today…” Lucien seemed to shift slightly, “It was entirely unreasonably for me to send you home when you wished the know the way. I got spooked with the trap and, and-”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Elain smiled at him, setting the papers down and leaning forward in her chair. Lucien looked bemused.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I, uh…it’s not your fault I got upset, not really. I’m just quite on edge recently,” Elain began to fiddle with the threads of her dress.

“Is something wrong?” Pure concern laced Lucien’s voice as he strode a little further into the room.

“No, just…I think it’s just being around you…” Elain trailed off and Lucien’s eyes widened. Never before had she brought up the mating bond. Not with him.

“Oh, yes, it’s...uh, quite annoying isn’t it.” He grinned easily, and Elain felt something inside her relax.

“Not annoying just…things get to me easier.”

“Yes,” Lucien nodded, “When we’re close to each other the mating bond will be more…demanding. You’ll probably be more aware of it, as I am.”

“You…you feel like this, all the time?” Elain blinked at him, and Lucien shifted awkwardly, he did not want her to pity him.

“You get used to it after a while,” He grinned at her again. Elain quickly became lost in thought and Lucien could practically see her mind working, her eyes becoming distant. He took this moment to look her over, just checking for injuries, of course.

She’d changed her dress; the other one no doubt having being stained with grass and mud. It was a pale yellow, one that he found suited her hair greatly. Layers of skirts and a corset bodice, and with her hair pinned up and away from her face she looked every bit of the goddess he thought her of being.

It was then that his eye caught on the dainty necklace around her throat, a single pearl hanging at its end and…

Mother, that was a low neckline.

A low neckline for Elain of course. But still. The dress allowed him to see the beginning curve of her breasts where that single pearl lay, nestled-

Lucien snapped his eyes away and dug his hands into his pockets, digging his nails into his thighs.

He was sure that by now, Elain could read scents, and he really, really, didn’t want to make this more awkward than it was. Mother, he’d just been talking about how he’d become accustomed to controlling himself. But perhaps the beast within hadn’t been tamed, maybe it was just resting.

As though they’d been called by his arousal, the base mate desires sang through his blood. Touch, smell, taste…The last one was strangely powerful today, but maybe it was because the more time he became familiar with her scent, the more he could imagine what she tasted of. Sweet but in the way fruits are sweet, like his own personal nectar-

“Are you alright?” Elain’s soft voice sung into the air and Lucien realised that he was digging so hard into his thigh that tears had sprung up into his eyes.

“Yes, sorry,” He sniffed before huffing a laugh, “I’m just tired is all.”

“Of…” Elain prompted softly, and for a moment their eyes met and something enigmatic passed between them. “I um,” Elain sprang from her chair and began to gesture, unable to meet his eye. “I was about to go to the kitchen and steal a pot of tea and sit if the garden if you wished to, if you wished to-”

“Yes,” Lucien blinked, and Elain nodded furiously before meeting his eye and giving him a shy smile.

“Lead the way,” Elain said softly, and Lucien felt his heart skip a beat, and from the way Elain’s smile grew, he knew she’d heard it too.

***

Since it was well into the night, Elain and Lucien had to make the tea themselves, Lucien trying not to puff his chest too much when Elain gasped at how he heated the kettle with his fingers.

“It’s about as useful as it gets I’m afraid,” he grinned at her as steam started to pour from the spout.

“Well, being a seer seems far more pointless.” God she looked good in the moonlight.

“I wouldn’t say that…” It seemed that that part of Lucien would always protest at Elain being insulted, even if it were her dishing out the affront. “You knew to find Vassa, your visions before the war were invaluable, we most likely would’ve lost without them.”

Elain poured the tea, her brows furrowed in thought. If they were truly mated, if the union had been accepted, Lucien realised that this was a moment where he’d be able to reach for that bond and feel what she was feeling. He could understand, in a millisecond, what was going on behind those honeyed eyes.

Elain moved to the kitchen’s backdoor, which looked out onto the path leading down to the road which led to town, arching through the gardens. To his surprise she settled in the doorway, tucking her skirts so that they spilled out onto the gravel path.

“What is it?” Lucien prodded, as he settled down next to her, making sure that he was leaning against the left doorframe and that no part of his body was touching hers.

“Compared to the likes of Feyre and Nesta,” Elain began in a dreamy voice, “My powers are pointless; you can’t deny it.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say to that. It was all kinds of wrong. As he thought about how to exactly tell Elain she was quite insane for thinking such a way, he looked out on the moonlit gardens. The sky here was duller than the Night Court, but there was something peaceful in these lands, something innocent. A warm breeze caressed his face, and just as he was about to speak, Elain beat him to it.

“I should’ve been there, tonight, Feyre and Nesta would’ve gone.” Lucien’s hand paused as it carried his tea to his lips. Fury jolted through him.

“I don’t know about that,” Lucien proceeded in sipping his tea, trying to cool the flames within.

“If Feyre could handle seeing Tamlin, then I could’ve handled tonight,” Elain said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Lucien considered what she had said, trying to slow his heartbeat as he thought, especially now that he knew she could hear it.

“Are you so desperate to be like your sisters?” Elain cocked her head at the garden.

“Of course…they’re brave and I…I don’t know, how could I not?” Elain appeared as genuinely confused, and something inside Lucien’s chest ached.

“No offence,” he flashed her an easy grin, one that seemed to tell her that everything was going to be okay, “But I don’t think the world would recover from having another Feyre…and especially not another Nesta.”

“You know what I mean…” Elain huffed, bumping into his shoulder slightly as she flashed him a shy smile, one that made him feel like glowing. “They would’ve gone tonight. They would’ve marched into that manor and sat down in the Nolan’s chair and if Gray so much as looked at them wrong they would’ve burned the house to ashes.”

Lucien ignored Elain’s nickname for her ex-fiancé, and took a moment to cool the raging part of him that sought to seek out the boy and erase him from history. Elain was poking fun at her ex-lover, she was wrinkling her nose and shaking her head, it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. And yet that nickname stood like an island in the stormy ocean, a reminder that at that moment, some unevolved, bastard, human fae-hunter had a firmer place in her heart than he.

“What the hell is the Nolan’s chair?” Lucien asked after a moment, batting the vitriol from his mind.

“Oh,” Elain’s eyes lit up, “It’s some stupid, big Ashwood throne which they have in this weird trophy room, apparently it’s been passed down through generations of fae-hunters. I couldn’t touch it of course because I hadn’t been initiated into the family and that would be sacrilegious or something.” Lucien tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, and Elain felt something inside her sing to answer. She’d noticed Lucien’s beauty more this past day, but that moment right there, had been the loveliest he’d ever been. His eyes shut, his grin wide. He seemed happy. It was beautiful.

“Oh Gods, let me guess, they have it behind some sort of curtain and they do a grand reveal whenever guests come for tea?” Elain blinked at him with those brown saucers.

“Have you visited?!” Both of them titled back and let out genuine laughs, no one to interrupt them but a warm breeze making the plants rustle.

“You know, it’s funny,” Elain sighed, curling her arms around her knees and looking out on the moon-lit shrubbery, “When you stop loving someone, it’s almost like you see them for the first time.” Lucien shifted awkwardly, trying to ease the itching across his skin. He’d never talked so much about the boy before, and it was making his powers sing.

“And what do you see now?”

“I…I can’t say a bad word against him. I don’t know why. I think even if he were standing in front of me right now I would just politely ask him to leave.”

“I think that says more about your character than his.” How could the Cauldron have thought him worthy of this female? In the face of her abuser, she chose pacifism.

“It’s strange because now I guess I see him how everyone else has always seen him. But when I was human…” Elain’s speech faltered and she flashed her eyes to him, “I’m sorry you probably don’t want to hear about this.” Lucien took a deep breath before setting his cup down.

“Elain I…I want to be your friend, and I want to know everything about you. If that includes your weasel of an ex, so be it.”

“Be nice,” Elain half-told him off with a laugh as she reached out and shoved his shoulder. Lucien saw stars.

“When you were human…” Lucien found his voice after a second, and prompted Elain along. She curled her arm back around her knees and her eyes drifted off to some far off place.

“I…I just wanted to be loved, so badly. I wanted a fairy-tale romance and, I don’t know, someone who would want me, you know that kind of romance you only read about in novels where the guy walks into a room and only sees her.” Elain huffed a laugh and Lucien bit his tongue. “I just assumed that it would never happen, not with us falling into poverty, but then, we weren’t in poverty anymore, and Nesta and I were back looking for husbands. Graysen isn’t…special…I know. But I never wanted special, and for a girl who had grown up believing she’d have nothing, what he gave me seemed like the whole world. Things like sneaking out to meet him without a chaperone, or, or, sneaking away from family dinner’s to hide in the gardens. It…it felt like falling in love…”

“When you having nothing,” Lucien began tentatively, “And someone shows you an inch of kindness…well, that becomes invaluable.” Elain hummed softly in agreement.

“I didn’t want much – I’ve never wanted much - but that’s because it always seemed greedy. I just wanted my own garden, and then Graysen promised me 12 acres of land, and he did seem to care for me. Well…at one point he seemed to care.” Elain shivered, and that age-old anger flashed in his eye. He didn’t know what Graysen had said to Elain when she’d come to the Noland Manor during the war, but by the way the entire Inner Circle seemed one bad day away from cleaving the boy’s balls from his body, he got the idea.

“Now that I can see him clearly, and I can see all the terrible things he did and said, to me and…and about me…” Elain turned to look at Lucien and found him already looking at her, his expression soft, but something made of steel in his eyes, “It’s easy to not love someone when you don’t like them, but I am afraid.”

“Of…” Lucien said gently, his voice as soft as the wind in the leaves.

“How can I…” she was looking at him directly now, “How can I do it again,” she whispered in a voice that reminded him of a petal. “I was so blinded by love; how can I trust myself? You know, sometimes it feels like I’ve felt enough heartbreak to fill several lifetimes.”

Lucien surprised himself by huffing a soft laugh.

“I know how you feel. But that’s the thing about being immortal. They say time heals all wounds, and it does. But most of us, and I suppose particularly humans, don’t get the chance to wait out our pain. But being fae, well, you’re convinced you’ll never get over it until one day you wake up and, you just are.”

Elain had never heard him speak for so long before, and she realised she could’ve sat here and listened to him talk all night. There was an aged wisdom behind his words, like a promise that everything was going to be alright. A small silence settled on the two as they both looked up at the moon, glowing like an eye of the Mother, winking with contentment.

“Graysen is a bastard isn’t he.” Lucien laughed, loud and brashly, and even though it was nearly midnight, Elain was sure he’d momentarily lit up the world.

“No comment,” Lucien held his palms up to face her to show his pacifism.

“Oh come on, you must not like him if you’re sitting here with me rather out there at the Nolan’s sipping, oh, coffee liquors.” Lucien wrinkled his nose.

“Gods, they sound awful.”

“Oh. They are,” Elain moaned with a smile. Then she peered at him again, “You’ve really never been.” Lucien shifted slightly, sitting a little straighter.

“Yes I, uh, I hope that wasn’t an intrusion or-”

“No, no!” Elain rushed, before sighing heavily as she bit her lip in thought. Lucien’s eyes, one metal one fae, roved over her. Oh how he wished to know her thoughts.

Then, Elain was reaching out for him, putting her small hand on his shoulder and looking up at him with those dark, sultry eyes.

“Thank you…for having my back,” she practically whispered. But Lucien wasn’t quite sure he’d heard her given that his entire focus had been zeroed onto that single palm pressed against his shoulder, how he could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin linen of his shirt.

“I…no problem, Lady…It’s no problem at all.” Elain smiled at him softly, but her hand stayed where it was.

Lucien wondered if she felt it too. The electricity that was flowing through his blood. The bond that seemed to glow from between his ribs, buzzing with contentment at their contact. He wondered if she felt the squeeze in her chest – the possibility that this wasn’t just a bond at all.

Suddenly, voices from the hall erupted into life. Brash singing, and a cackling laugh that startled Elain enough for her hand to lift from his shoulder, before she slowly pulled it back in her lap. Lucien was dangerously close to running into the hall and carrying both his friends back out into the garden and dumping them in the flower beds.

He’d had two stolen moments with Elain today, and the secret seemed to lie in their solidarity from the rest of the world. Sighing Lucien leaned back on his hands.

“It seems that Jurian and Vassa have made it home.”

Tag List:

@ladyelain @chloepereyra @exiledelain @bow-dawn​

[appelle-moi-si-tu-te-perds]

Issues with Control (or Lack Thereof)

Ever since I was little, I have had an intimate relationship with planning, whether it was to do with a play date with my best friend or a family vacation, you name it. Not to say I was some highly organized specimen. I would argue that it has much more to do with how I was constantly terrified of things changing, afraid of the unknown. With planning of course, I would spend hours and hours on trying to figure out what those hypothetical unknows were, trying to beat these imaginary foes of mine at their own game. Often, I would succeed, and this would surely just feed my obsession with planning. Other times I would get the rug pulled off under me and subsequently get slapped in the face with the unfathomable fact that I indeed was not always right. Nevertheless, this little pastime of planning only manifested in a myriad of ways as I grew up into the person I am today.

Now, this wouldn’t be a quarter-life crisis testimony of my short comings if I didn’t put at least some of the blame and finger pointing to my parents. For as long as I can remember, I have personally wanted nothing more than to my mother and father to separate and yet to this day on paper they are still married, emphasis on the “on paper”. I was indeed a real fan of divorce even before I started preschool. No joke, I was pathologically, painfully envious of how most of my friends’ parents were divorced but not mine. Regardless of my pro-divorce views, I would always console my crying mother and try to solve my parents’ arguments. I remember one time my father found it quite endearing how I put so much effort into their issues when all my excellent advice would most definitely fall on deaf ears. He even said that I would make a great therapist and should go on to study psychology. In hindsight, putting me into therapy would’ve made a hell of a lot more sense.

Inevitably my need to be in control lead to me having disordered eating and a very messed up obsession with food. My mother was also very critical of her own appearance and to be honest, everyone else’s as well. It was a completely acceptable, normal thing, for my parents to call people on the television ugly, fat and so on, not that these comments were only reserved for the famous. When I was a teenager, it truly felt like the only two things I had control over were my grades and what I put in my mouth. Not eating was made extremely easy, absolutely nobody bat an eye to the fact that I didn’t eat anything at school and at home my parents were completely oblivious to the extent of my issues. They did however, like any good parents would, blame me for losing too much weight. After moving away from home at eighteen, my disordered eating took a break, or at least wasn’t as severe. At this point, I lived with my older sister, we ended up living together for six years all together. Few years went by and my obsession with food took a new form, purging. This however had to be done very discreetly since I lived in a one-bedroom apartment with my older sister, luckily, I was notoriously good at planning and wouldn’t get caught barf-handed so to speak.

You would think that my cynical views on marriage and otherwise calculative nature on events would have led me to be a cold hard realist when it came to the matters of the heart. On the contrary I’m a true romantic even when it comes to romanticising the twisted, traumatic experiences. Not until very recently had I my first love, last summer to be exact. It was very short lived, all in all two months to be precise. From the very beginning I knew it wasn’t sustainable, but I kept going with the genius idea that I could single handedly fix the person I love if I gave them all of myself. Now don’t get me wrong, a big part of me thought it was ridiculous to make such sacrifice, but I absolutely loved being in love. I think I might even miss that feeling more than the actual person. Me and her were/are very different in the sense that she was out of control, no boundaries whatsoever, and well I’m sure by now we know that yours truly is quite the opposite. She needed me and made that extremely clear. In the beginning I was surprised to be so head over heels for someone so clingy and emotional. That wasn’t usually my cup of tea and yet I adored all the moments when I could make her day even a little bit better. I felt useful, as if my purpose was to carry all her pain so that she wouldn’t feel it. I guess in some fucked up way I felt like I owed it to her since she didn’t come from a privileged background like me, and she made sure to guilt trip me over it. It didn’t take me too long to conclude that this relationship was taking more from me that I was receiving and that I in fact was not in control at all. Her constantly needing me created the illusion that I was calling the shots when in reality I was bending over backwards trying to fit my views with hers. So, after a few break ups and make ups, we finally called it for good after two months of being together.

I’ll be turning 25 in a few short months. You wouldn’t necessarily believe it after reading all this but I’m looking forward to it. For the first time in a long time, I’m being brutally honest with myself and trying to hold myself accountable. That’s not to somehow imply that I’m extremely pleased with myself because I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m a complete loon who hasn’t got the slightest idea of who they are. To end on a positive note though, I’m very hopeful that I know how to find that out.

[baronessblixen]

Some angst with fluff at the end? "Please. I don't think I can do this anymore."

So this was inspired by yesterday’s rooftop anon and @mypanicface. Thank you. It has angst, fluff and is a journey through their life together. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 10

“Please,” Scully says, squeezing Mulder’s hand, looking at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” And Mulder can’t let go. He can’t let go of The X-Files or the search for his sister, the truth. Most of all, and it hits him violently in the gut, making him dizzy, he can’t let go of Scully. One year ago, she strolled into his basement office with a soft smile and no idea what she’d gotten herself into. Now, his little spy has become his greatest confidant. The thought of losing her is unfathomable.

“I have an idea,” he says, entwining their fingers, and bringing her to the place that up until to now, has been his and his only.

“I didn’t even know your building had a rooftop.”

“Most people don’t.” He grins at her. “I have a key.”

There’s not much space but it’s always just been him, so it was enough. He motions for Scully to sit down on the beat-up chair he found in a corner the first time he’s come up here. She sits with a thankful smile and he crouches next to her, his knees uncomfortable on the cold, hard concrete.

“The sun is setting,” Scully says, her voice as soft as the colors stretching over the sky above them.

“I know,” he replies, watching her instead. “I come here sometimes to think. To watch the sunset and remind myself that the world isn’t all bad. I thought maybe I could… get a second chair, a second set of keys.”

Scully turns to him. There are still tears in her eyes, but the ashen look of desperation in her face has vanished. The last rays of sunshine tangle in her hair and caress her cheeks.

“I would like that, Mulder.”

*

There are two chairs now and only one of them here to use them. He stares at the empty, silent seat beside him. Up above him, the sky is grey, as listless as he is. The sunset is hidden behind dark, angry clouds. Hope is dwindling with every passing day. The hope that they’ll find Scully. That they’ll find her alive.

A sliver of blue finds its way through the layers of bitter clouds, cracks it open just one bit. He clings to that small promise, to the possibility of faith.

Where are you Scully? he thinks, holding her cross between his fingers, trying to find the strength to go on.

*

“Hey,” he says, drawing his chair close to hers.

“I didn’t know where to go,” she says as a way of apology.

He shakes his head. “I told you this place is as much yours as mine.” Her knuckles are white from gripping the armrest. He touches the hand right next to him and she startles.

“I’m just so angry, Mulder. And my mother she… I couldn’t stand the look on her face anymore.” She lifts her head to the clouds. “I can’t believe I’ll never talk to Melissa ever again.”

“I’m sorry, Scully. For your loss, for… everything.”

Their fingers intertwine on their own account. The sun sets right before their eyes, a last hurrah for the day. Tomorrow, they will do this all over again. Just a respite before another fight, before another injustice. Before another loss. Neither of them lets go of the other, not for the longest time, not until they’re engulfed into complete darkness, the night’s cold nipping at them and reminding them that they, against all odds, are still alive. 

*

“You can’t keep doing this,” Scully says, standing next to him, and even though he’s not looking at her, he knows she’s frowning. She’s bundled up in a thick coat, needing the warmth, needing to hide her diminishing body away. No amount of layers can cover up the truth they both know.

She’s dying.

Mulder looks straight ahead at where the sun bleeds red into the sky. What does it matter to her? Why does she care what happens to him once she’s gone? His thoughts buzz in his head, like a swarm of angry bees. He wants to throw the chair away, to hide the keys. How can he ever return here once she’s buried in the cold earth?

“Mulder, I mean it. What you did… why did you do it? Why did you let someone drill a hole into your head?” Her voice rises with every word she says. He doesn’t have answers for her. He can’s save her and so he doesn’t deserve to be saved. Definitely not by her.

“I can’t- Mulder, please look at me.” He can’t deny her when she’s pleading with him. How can he deny her anything now when she’s dying? With force, he turns his head towards her. “I can’t bear the thought that you hurt yourself. You need to start taking better care of yourself.”

His nod is an empty promise, but she sits next to him anyway. He holds her tiny, cold hand in his and squeezes it tightly before he interlaces their fingers. Maybe some of his warmth, some of his life, can seep into her. She needs it more than he does.

*

“You said you wanted to talk to me?” Mulder is hesitant in sitting down. There’s a gentle breeze in the air, a hint of summer palpable in the rich bouquet of new beginnings.

“Hmm.” There’s a soft, albeit shy smile on her face that disarms his heart. He sits down, glances briefly at the early sunset, not yet in full procession, coloring them in golden hues.

“I must admit I was a bit, um, worried when I got your message because-“

“I want a baby, Mulder.” The smile is still there, now mixed with determination. She wants this. She really wants this. He swallows hard, his mind rushing through all the implications. Scully wants a child.

“That’s um…”

“I got a second opinion for the ova you’ve stored. There’s a good chance that IVF will work for me.”

“That’s incredible, Scully.”

She nods, watching him. “There’s just one problem. It’s not a problem, just- I need…, you know…”

“A father,” he supplies.

“So to speak. I don’t want you to answer right away, Mulder, because I know this is a big decision and one that neither of us should make lightly. I’ve spent all week thinking about it. You were my first thought when Dr. Parenti said there was a chance. During the week, I realized that… I don’t want you to feel pressured or like this is something that you have to do. I want you to think about it, okay?”

“You want me to be the…” now he can’t say it. Father. Scully wants him to be the father of her child.

“Please think about it. I’m going to leave you alone now.” She squeezes his shoulder and he sits there, frozen and shell-shocked. His eyes are trained on the sky where soft, pale blue and pink stripes frolic together. There’s no decision to be made. His heart pounds in his chest.

They’re going to try and make a baby.

*

She doesn’t say a word as she hands him a key. The key to the rooftop. He stares back at her, dumbfounded.

“I thought maybe you’d like it back.” Her voice is clipped, as neatly coiffed as her hair.

“Why?”

“I figured you’d like to share it with someone else.”

“Scully, no.” But she’s already leaving. He catches her right when her hand lands on the doorknob. “This is our place,” he says. “Diana doesn’t even know it exists. Neither would I want her to. Please stay? Look at that sunset.”

She doesn’t. She’s staring at her own hand, wrapped around the knob, still ready to leave. He couldn’t blame her if she did.

“Hey?” He touches her chin, making it impossible for her not to look at him. There’s a glimmer of anger in her eyes. These days, no matter what he does, he’s only making things worse. “Just one sunset. It promises to be pretty tonight.”

Wordlessly, she lets go, trots over to her chair, and sits down. She moves it away from his own, widening the distance. As soon as they’ve both settled, as soon as he dares, he reaches out to take her hand. She lets him hold it and he knows they will be okay again, in the end.

*

“We should have done it like this from the start,” Mulder says grinning up at Scully. She’s perched on his lap, her arms around his neck, and her head leaning against his. It won’t take long tonight, the sun in a hurry to set in the frosty autumn air.

“We weren’t ready then.” Scully’s giggle disappears into his neck where she nuzzles him with the tip of her freezing nose. He can’t wait to get back inside, to warm her up. Who needs sleeping bags when you have a warm bed and the hottest woman on earth?

“You’re not even looking at the sunset, Scully.”

“I’ve seen it before,” she says with a yawn.

“Are you tired? It’s only afternoon.”

“Well, we were busy last night.” Another giggle and a kiss against his jaw. He loves this Scully, the playful one. Sure, he loves every Scully he’s ever encountered; from the bossy badass to the one who needs help reaching the cupboards in his apartment.

“I plan on being busy again tonight,” he says into her hair.

“Can we skip the sunset tonight, Mulder? Maybe we can even see it from your bedroom.”

“You’re right. We should definitely check that theory.”

*

There are no certainties, only a sea full of possibilities, but Mulder knows this is the last time he’ll be sitting here, watching the sunset from the rooftop of his building. His bags are packed; everything he needs ready to start a new life somewhere else. Where that will be, he doesn’t yet know.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Scully says softly, cradling her heavy stomach. He can’t help but smile when he sees her, overcome with love for her and their baby. If only there wasn’t the nagging feeling of fear, too. What if they can’t keep their child safe? What if?

“I thought I’d say goodbye.”

“You don’t know that, Mulder.” She takes her hand in his, their fingers automatically entwining.

“Hmm,” he replies. He does know. This chapter is over. “We’ve had some good moments up here, didn’t we?”

“We did.”

“Sad ones, too.”

“No more sad ones,” she says, putting their entwined hands on her stomach.

If only life were that easier. But as he looks at the sky, the same sky it’s always been, the familiar colors that still find ways to surprise him now and then, he knows that they will be fine. No matter where he is, where she is, the sun will set every day, sleep, and rise again. There’s always going to be hope.

[danddymaro]

Addiction | Old Snake x Reader

An Ending to MGS4 that ends in happiness for our good boi Snake

Fixed/Edited

BTW: Let’s shift the events around and pretend he went to go talk to Big Boss Before Meryl's wedding.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = 'Example'

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word Count:  2225

Addiction

From betwixt the snug place of his lips, the smoke in which he took pleasure from was snatched, aggressively pulled out in a single motion,

"Snake," A familiar male's voice said in a harsh whisper, sounding frustrated and disappointed all together, "Just what in the world do you think you're doing!?" Otocon added with the same tone of exasperation.

Silently, Snake's blue eyes drifted right to see the bespeckled brunette male giving him a half-hearted glare, his entire expression full of annoyance as he glared onto the man that seemed many years older than what he truly was.

"You know you shouldn't be smoking," Hal said while shaking his head in the same disapproval, making sure to exaggerate a low dragged out sigh, "Honestly...Snake, you'd think that at least today you'd make an exception." He added.

'Today...' David started, 'Today is a special day... for not just me, but for her too,' He thought while grunting, knowing just what the other man meant, feeling guilt weigh down over his shoulders as he recognized his selfishness.

With a dull gaze as a response, Snake returned the look back to his long-time friend, 'I know this already...don't think I don't,' He silently told the man while pressing his lips together tightly.

Tearing his eyes from the hardened dark chocolate orbs, David then trailed his oculars down to the discarded nicotine as it now lay on the floor, a small, thin line of smoke still rising from its end, a gentle flicker of a red spark still visible as well.

He could pick it back up. After all, it was salvageable, but even so, his reaction remained prolonged.

He stared at it for a few moments before he closed his eyes to rid himself of the tempting image.

"You will end up smelling like burnt ash and tobacco. I don't think she'd like that," Otacon continued to speak, convincing him to make the right choice.

Dropping his shoulders, Snake nodded in defeated agreeance, knowing it to be true.

After a few silent minutes passed, he then gave a frustrated sigh and stepped on it, crushing it under his shoe and making sure it was put out by the stomp.

"yeah yeah," David grumbled, because he was well aware of the fact and had already mentally kicked himself for it.

"I know you're nervous," Hal then said with a soft, understanding smile rising, "it's understandable," he said while placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, "But you should do it for her. " He added, truthfully, also being concerned for Snake's health.

"Now come on, " Emmerich said with brightened brown orbs, "It's about to begin," he reminded the other male, his index finger tapping the little face on his watch as an exited grin overtook him.

Having spent almost his entire life in battle, it wasn't like he could fit into the normal world with ease. He couldn't just chuck himself into an easy everyday life as simple as that, no matter what anyone tried to tell him.

He'd been told to live his life, to enjoy what bits he had left and to salvage it the best he could, but he hadn't the least bit of an idea as to how to do so,

'how? ' He wondered helplessly, uncertain as to just how he could go on so simply.

What could a man that's known nothing but battle do in the normal world?

He couldn't go back to his family as other soldiers would often do, because he had none. He had no mother, father, brothers, or sisters, to fall back to. 

Heck, he didn't even have a damn dog to go back to and run toward at the end of the day.

All in all, he had nothing. So, he couldn't just join into the masses of civilians and blend in, because it just hadn't been in his plans.

He'd never thought that far along, and for a long time, he'd thought there was nothing there for him.

But of course, life had its crazy, little surprises, especially one he'd never anticipated... 

"Marry me!" She said out loud, her voice rising with plea, the sudden proposal stopping his movements entirely. 

His steps came to a complete halt, and the foot that had almost touched the ground stayed suspended for a moment, hovering over the placement by just a centimeter.

He then took two slow breaths before he placed it down to the Earth, turning to the woman with confusion, his brows knotted together to show a visibly painted look of dumbfoundedness,

"wh..what?" He breathed, almost inaudibly as he tried to comprehend what he'd heard.

 He was certain that it was just his old age playing with him.

 He just knew it was the only explanation as to why he heard her say the words because it was just unfathomable to him,

'I must be hearing things,' He thought to himself, deflated at the sudden realization that dawned upon him.

Dementia; he probably had dementia.

He'd thought he had just a bit more time before then, but it seemed that he wasn't lucky enough, and surely the old age he presented himself with had finally fully beaten him,

"What...what did you say?" He asked slowly, staring at her with furrowed brows.

She took a step forward, inching herself closer to him with anxiousness, seeming uncertain on coming near,

"Did...did you not hear me?" She squeaked, face turning beet red, seeming mortified at the fact that she had to once again repeat herself.

" Perhaps... but I could have been mistaken." He grumbled, watching her continue to move closer to him.

Slowly, and tentatively she stepped forward, soon standing three feet from him, staring up at him with a harsh swallow, a small lump gliding down her throat before she spoke yet again,

"I...I...I said ...I ... I said ... will you marry me..." she repeated with strain, sounding much smaller the second time around, losing all the sense of confidence she'd previously fueled herself with.

"Marry you..?" He repeated, still at a loss.

At her side, he noticed she held the white bouquet full of flowers tightly bound within her hold, and it was the same bunch that Meryl had thrown up in the air not a few moments ago.

When she realized just what he had been staring at, she held it up with a rather quirky smile, " I think this kind of means I'm next, and I don't see anyone better around," she said while raising both her brows to dance up and down until he turned away from her, not in the mood for the show of playfulness,

"Huh?!

- What! Please don't go!" she cried out, rushing after him, soon managing to stand before him, her arms widespread to stop him from moving past her,

"I'm being serious!" She declared, looking up at him with frantic (e/c) colored eyes, "You have to believe me!" she added, continuing on with her story.

She reminded him of the fact that they'd met before. It had been a while back, an event that had embedded itself deep within her heart, even if he'd forgotten,

"Because..." She started, " Because I've thought of you every day after that," she confessed. "And then I spoke to Hal, and he brought me here, he told me that now...Now was my chance to tell you. " She confessed to him.

She'd waited years, pinning for the man through each and every one of them, waiting for the day she'd one day stand before him again.

And it all began to make sense by then, why Otocon seemed so insistent on him joining the ceremony, despite his own refusal to show because he'd had other plans in mind, all of which didn't include infecting everyone with his miserable air.

"I'm not exactly meant for romanticism, " he told her. " And even if I were..." He trailed off, keeping his eyes drawn away from her, his words dying out as he let her fill in the blanks.

Even if he had been willing to take the risk, to suddenly go off and get hitched to some strange woman he just vaguely remembered,

his life was draining, and all in all, he had nothing to offer her.

"You're better off with someone else... " he said lowly, " someone who has the time," he added with the same dejection, moving to leave her behind before she stopped him again,

"Wait," She said with a stilled breath.

Her two hands both grasped his, stopping him and effectively holding him back. The soft, warm palms of her two hands enveloped his own hand which was much rougher and less dainty, " Let's at least try?" she said with hope,

"I already know," She told him, " I've already known about your condition...but still..." She went on, daring to step closer, " Still... Even then, it doesn't change the way I feel, and, in fact, It just fuels me to want to be with you even more, " She admitted.

"It's sudden, I understand, but at the very least, give me the opportunity to come closer to you." She tried to compromise,

"If you begin to feel the same way I do...then... then we can make something of it. " She told him, slowly convincing him with the lovely stare of her pleading, (e/c) colored eyes.

He reflects back to her proposal far more than he cares to mention because it had been the moment his life took a complete turn, going from muted grey and black to cheerful, colorful vibrancy in every step that she accompanied him in.

And it all lead him to where he was now, standing before her, dressed properly and prim, left awestruck at her beauty, moreso than he typically was, reminding him that perhaps his luck wasn't so bad if it had somehow aligned their lives together.

she held his hand in hers as she slid the silver band onto his finger, the smile she wore on her red painted lips never faltering, not once losing its lovely show of fulfilled happiness, because she couldn't be any more joy-filled, something everyone commented on.

- There wasn't a happier bride in the planet.

Her cheek was then pressed to his chest, her nose scrunching up as she let out a soft sigh, not sounding angry, but he knew she wasn't all too pleased either,

"You were smoking..." she said softly, closing her eyes slowly as she let her body be led by his slow movements.

He wasn't a dancer, and she wasn't either, but nonetheless, they rocked together, bodies pressed close as their friends watched the couple's first dance together.

"I can smell it on you," she added with a small sound of exhaled air produced from her nostrils.

She hated loving the scent, the smell of smoke making her think just of him and nothing more.

"I was nervous," he said in defense, his response making her giggle softly,

"Don't tell me you want out already?" she asked him, drawing back slightly to look up at him, saying it in a joking manner, but even then he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. 

"Because I think it's a little too late for that," She reminded him.

"...Do you?" he asked her back, and he watched her shake her head in denial,

"Of course not silly," She said earnestly.

And he loved what followed, what always came after she looked up at him,

"I never would," She breathed, her gleaming eyes soon straying down to her wedding band, lovingly eyeing the silver piece, " David, I loved you then..." she started sweetly, her gloved hands sliding up from his chest to his cheeks, " and I love you now..." she reminded him, rising up on her already heeled feet.

His paled blue eyes closed, his mouth melted onto hers before she brought him the tender heat of their plumped goodness.

His two hands then fell over her hips but didn't stop to land on them, instead, they slid around her, his arms taking complete hold of her during their loving connection in an embrace that spoke more than words ever could.

"I'll love you always," she managed to murmur between their mashed mouths.

A squeal of enjoyment left her as he squeezed her tightly within his arms, loving all the attention he fed her.

She lived for it; Blossoming beneath his rays of affection.

"David..." she said again, drawing back, her eyes brightened with a type of light he knew existed only when he stared at her, because the woman adored him, something he'd always found to be unbelievable, yet a bliss.

He'd gone days without the death stick, days which later turned into months, and finally years.

He'd gone the rest of his breathing days without so much a thinking of them, but not a single one of those passing dates did he resist her, always caving in to her, even in their darkest days.

By then he'd found out that there was something far more addicting than nicotine, and it was the sweet flavor of her lovely lips, the warmth of their tender press, and much more the dedication behind each one that she let graze him.

All in all, she became his one fixation, the one thing he couldn't ever dream of living without.