#who keep getting pit against each other by life but refuse to lose that friendship .. it's just a little cracked now.. & keeps cracking

[mrmeepsmadmind]

SOCIETY KEEPS KILLING ONE OF THEM BCS THEIR FRIENDSHIP WOULD BE INCAPABLE FOR GALAXIES TO HANDLE !!!!!

[bonefall]

So, since BB!Ivypool will use her newfound deputy status to force a confrontation with Dovewing- how would she react if Dovewing snaps and told her to her face that she never, EVER wanted to speak with her again after everything? Like, would it click for her that even if she deeply regrets the way she treated her sister, no matter how sorry she is its up to Dovewing if she's ever forgiven? Or does she blame Heartstar thinking she turned her sister against her?

Let's pop open the hood of BB!Ivypool and her fucked up little life, and every person she's been leading up to the end of BB!TBC.

All of this starts with her father, Lionblaze, raising her with this axiom; That you are given strength to serve your Clan.

While he used Dovepaw and her powers in service of ThunderClan (often fighting with her mentor, Birchfall), Lionblaze encouraged his daughter to involve herself in Dark Forest training. Ivypaw felt like this was how she "earned" affection from her Ba, with hard work.

Just as Lionblaze believed that his physical abuse at the paw of Ashfur made him stronger, Ivypool also came to believe that growing up thrown to the wolves made her stronger too.

So when Dovewing first started to... not even REJECT the idea, just display any resentment towards it at all, it's like a personal slight.

No one ever fucking listens to Dovewing. No one cares what she wants. Just what she can do for them.

And Ivypool was super part of that. Her mentor is Brightheart, who often overexerts herself as an expression of PTSD. She saw Hawkfrost "die" turning against Tigerstar for the greater good. She sees Bumblestripe "working so hard" to "help Dovewing adjust" while she's losing her hearing.

In her eyes, Dovewing was being selfish. Look at all these people who give EVERYTHING to their Clans-- how dare you try and make it about yourself?

Tigerheart, in and out of their life constantly, gets blamed because it's a lot easier to pin it all on the Evil Codebreaking Foreigner than admit that maybe Dovewing has a point. Ah HA! THERE is the villain responsible for making my sister act weird! I knew it all along!

(Plus Tigerheart and Ivypool got pitted against each other a LOT in DF training because Ivy was Hawkfrost's apprentice and Tigerheart was Tigerstar's, for some incredibly fucked up projection reasons you'd expect of Tunnelbunstar. Ivypool will nonsensically blame Tigerheart like she's a Dinkleberg.)

(Also tbf tigerheart would 100% let her believe it, 1. Because it's funny, and 2. Because it takes the heat off Dovewing)

And Ivypool was VICIOUS about this. AVoS is still getting shuffled but if anything vindictive she did towards Dove in that arc gets removed, I will replace it with something just as bad. She would actively sabotauge ShadowClan if it meant keeping Tigerheart away from Dovewing.

She can't handle the thought of losing Dovewing. At some point, it became about control. It's her insecurity towards herself, towards her family, towards all of her losses, and even towards service of her very Clan.

And then Dovewing booked it. Couldn't handle this shit and panicked and BAILED.

And THEN it's about getting Dovewing BACK. She's even dragged Fernsong into this and tried to leverage his friendship with Dovewing to this end. She'll even support Bumblestripe when he tries to argue for an invalidation of Queen’s Rights on technicality.

Ivypool: "Those kits are Bumblestripe's! He has a claim! They even have HIS MANE"

Heartstar: "Hmm. No, it is very clearly MY mane."

Ivypool: "You can't-- wait what?"

Heartstar: "Lightkit even has my beautiful smile <3 so fuck off, maybe?"

For a long time that's where Ivypool was. She was the awful, vindictive sister-in-law constantly trying to weasel in to make Dovewing feel bad. When she had kittens of her own, she was still in this mindset.

It didn't end well. In BB!TBC, Bristlefrost needed her. Ivypool stepped in to prevent her from being the impostor's pawn, but refused to do anything when she was caught and imprisoned for being in a HalfClan relationship. She needed to be punished as a codebreaker.

Brought to the next Gathering, the impostor reiterated the need to enforce the code, and desperate times calling for desperate measures. He called for SkyClan to punish their own warrior. They refused to make this a public spectacle.

So he sliced open her throat, right on the branch beside him.

Ivypool didn't imagine she would be KILLED. Suddenly her whole world shattered. The moon stayed clear and bright. Her daughter was dead before she hit the ground and she had HERSELF to blame.

Dovewing and Ivypool served in the rebellion together, and eventually Ivy went into the Dark Forest as a Light in the Mist. She watched Bristlefrost die, AGAIN, knocking Ashfur out of the sky and burning them both up in orbit, and how brave Shadowsight had been in pinning him in place.

Ivypool NEEDS Dovewing to know now that she's different. She's learned a lot. She understands so, so much more now...

But DOES she? She still hates Heartstar's guts. She still feels abandoned. How different ARE you now, Ivypool, with your renewed interest in finding some petty reason to skirt around Dovewing's direct wishes? When you're still here getting into blowout arguments with Heartstar?

So to answer the question, if Dovewing told her directly, "I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR DESPERATION. IM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR FEELINGS. PISS OFF"

Ivypool would not be able to accept that.

It just wouldn't stick, ever. It really is desperation. Dovewing NEEDS to know that Ivypool loves her and misses her, and that she understands, but also that Heartstar is delusional, and this is still kind of Dovewing's fault. And Ivypool will do anything to make her know this.

But I also DO want to say; this is a very unique weakness. It is Dovewing Derangement Syndrome. Ivypool is a competent deputy, and she is a devoted and respected warrior of ThunderClan. It will be no surprise she's being picked for deputy, especially considering (god willing) Squirrelstar is seeking war with ShadowClan.

She is a good friend, mate, and leader. But BB!Ivypool is so, so fucked in the head about Dovewing. This family can fit so much trauma in it

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

[fruitydiaz-archived]

97 — “It’s not that easy.” for @eddie-diass

from this prompt list

Eddie thinks this should be easy. He’s spent the last three years of his life not thinking about Buck romantically.

Not that he really succeeded in stopping the thoughts all together, but he did succeed in distracting himself from them, from diving into them and figuring out what they meant. That should be the easy part — finding a distraction. He’s always been good at that.

He wishes he didn’t have to, is the thing. He got out of the hospital and started healing his busted shoulder and realized that life was short and he could die at any second and broke up with Ana and turned around to find his best friend locking lips with Taylor Kelly. Literally, he showed up to work on his first day back to find Buck leaning against his car with Taylor pressed against him like this was an 80s romcom and they were a bunch of lovesick high schoolers.

It stung. It made him bitter and jealous and angry — like he was a lovesick high schooler.

“You’re mad that I didn’t tell you about Taylor,” Buck had said later, when he approached him in the locker room. Eddie rolled his eyes and kept his head in his locker, refusing to look at Buck.

“No, I knew there was something going on. She was at my damn welcome home party, Buck. You’re not subtle.” Buck grimaced.

“You had enough going on, Eds. It just didn’t seem that important to bring up.”

Eddie spun around and stared at him, a little dumbfounded.

“You didn’t think your new relationship with your girlfriend was that important?”

Buck froze. He stared blankly at Eddie before his gaze shifted away and his shoulders dropped a little. Eddie watched him run a hand through his hair, step into the locker room and slide onto one of the benches.

“Wrong choice of words, maybe,” Definitely. “I just didn’t want to bother you with it. You were my priority, you know? Helping you feel better. Still are.”

Eddie’s thought about that line an infinite number of times since it left Buck’s lips.

You were my priority, you know? Helping you feel better. Still are.

Eddie doesn’t know how to tell Buck that that’s weird. That the fact that Eddie, who had a girlfriend at the time, was Buck’s priority, when he also had a girlfriend at the time (and still does, as Eddie’s brain keeps helpfully reminding him), is fucking weird. And it’s probably not fair of him to even try since he just came to the realization himself that the way that they’ve been acting for the last three years is weird as fuck and not the way two best friends who want to stay best friends and only best friends act.

It just hurts that he came to the realization too late.

One day, when Eddie’s stewing up in the loft, trying hard not to be bitter over the fact that he and Buck were about to throw down in a battle of ping pong when Taylor stopped by and swooped him up and out to her car for a chat, and failing — Hen settles down next to him.

He glances at her and she shoots him a sympathetic smile, offering to share the bag of chips she’s snacking on. He shakes his head but thanks her anyway.

“Must be really bad,” Hen says, focusing on her bag of chips. “To turn down your favorite chips.”

“How do you know they’re my favorite?” Eddie raises an eyebrow. He checks the bag again and — she’s right. They are his favorite, from his childhood. He never eats them around the station because he likes to save them for special occasions, ones that make him feel like he’s young and naive again.

He has a bag stored at the back of his pantry at home right now. But he’s pretty sure Hen’s never seen him eat them.

“Buck put in a special request with Bobby to get them stocked up. He said they’re your favorite. Something about a childhood treat.”

Eddie doesn’t remember telling Buck that. He’s sure he must have, in passing at some point, probably during his recovery, but he didn’t know Buck had latched onto it like that.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. It’s been 10 minutes since Buck left with Taylor. Eddie’s getting antsy. He can’t help it when he glances in the direction of the garage again.

“You should tell him, you know.”

Eddie stares at her, raising his eyebrows again. He can play stupid.

“Hm?” Hen stares back at him.

“Buck. About how you feel.”

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. He looks away from Hen quickly, dropping his eyes to his lap.

“Yeah? About what?”

“Oh, geez, Eddie, come on. Don’t make me spell it out for you.” He doesn’t say anything. Hen softens her voice. “Listen, I know the way that you’re feeling is scary, I know it’s probably new to you. But you and Buck have a relationship like no one I’ve ever seen — and I’m including all the married couples I know.”

Eddie shifts in his seat and keeps his eyes averted.

“Seeing him with Taylor is cutting you up inside, Eddie. Every time you see her I’m afraid to cross through your line of sight because I’m not trying to get caught in the crossfire of those little eye darts of yours.”

“So what?” Eddie cuts her off. He’s never liked people throwing his feelings back at him, not when they’re already uncomfortable enough to face on his own. He looks up at her and sets his jaw. “I appreciate your concern, Hen, okay? But I’m not going to tell Buck that I don’t like his girlfriend just because...just because…”

“Because you’re in love with him, Eddie.”

Eddie stills. He feels his brain shut off and the panic spike in his chest, feels the fight or flight response kicking in instantly. He struggles to breathe.

“I’m not…”

He is.

“Eddie. It’s okay. I’m not telling anyone. I’m just...telling you what I see.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Eddie lets her words settle over him, squares his shoulders and confronts the fact that this is reality. He can’t hide from his feelings.

“I can’t lose him, Hen,” Eddie says after a moment, his voice so quiet that she barely hears him.

“Watching him with Taylor isn’t losing him?” Hen counters. “Look, I get that you’re scared that you’ll tell him how you feel and then it’ll ruin your friendship forever — but it doesn’t have to.”

“It’ll change things.”

“Maybe not the way you think,” Hen shifts so she’s looking Eddie straight in the eye. “The way you look at him when you think he’s not looking? That’s the same way he’s looking at you when your back is turned. Trust me. I’ve been watching it for years.

“Eddie, you both went through something traumatic together. You got shot and Buck watched you bleed out. You both thought you were gonna lose each other. In a way, your relationship became stronger after that. But you also realized how important he is to you. And he realized the same thing. Why do you think he rushed into his relationship with Taylor?”

“Because he’s wanted her for years?” Hen gives him a look.

“Because she’s safer. If Buck loses her, it’ll hurt like hell but he’ll move on. If anything were to happen and he lost you...we both know what would happen.”

“So why would I tell him?”

“Because you both love each other. I like Taylor and I’m glad she and Buck are happy together. But they’re not gonna last, Eddie. That boy would die for you. No one is ever going to mean as much to him as you and Christopher do, we all know that.”

“...It’s not that easy,” Eddie says quietly. He looks over as Buck skips back into the garage, shining and grinning big, like he always does after he sees Taylor. Eddie’s heart settles in the pit of his stomach like a rock.

“Be right up there to kick your ass at ping pong, Diaz, don’t think I forgot!” Buck calls, before he takes off to the locker room. Eddie swallows.

“The things that are worth it are rarely easy,” Hen says to him, setting her hand down on one of his and squeezing gently. “He loves you too, Eddie. Trust me.”

And with that she’s gone and Eddie struggles to pull himself back together before Buck comes back up the stairs.

He’s not gonna tell Buck how he feels. He’ll probably have to, eventually, and it terrifies him to think that that might be soon, since apparently everyone around them can clearly see the thing that they keep dancing around.

But he can’t do it while Buck is dating Taylor. If Hen thinks they’re not going to last long, then he can wait until then.

Buck’s happy with her, and Eddie thinks he should be allowed to have someone that makes him feel happy.

Even if it’s not him.

[nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice]

Zutara. My otp since I first watched as a 10 year old in 2005. Hopefully you'll be kind to them 😉 I'm convinced they'll be cannon in the live action 😅

Alright... *starts digging grave*, I think Katara and Zuko have a wonderful platonic relationship and for them to have a romantic relationship would (1) undermine Zuko’s redemption arc and (2) undermine the found family aspect of their friendship. I don’t have an issue with anyone who ships Zutara and I do not engage in shipping drama, but I think their platonic relationship is too damn important to favor a romantic relationship I don't really think has chemistry. 

Personally, I have never gotten romantic vibes from them like... at all? I think the progression of their friendship was important in terms of the show’s themes of forgiving those who deserve it and finding support in people you least expect, but I just don’t get chemistry from them. I’ve always been a Kataang fan but how I feel about Zutara has nothing to do with that. Avatar is one of those shows where I would have been totally fine with it ending with no romantic pairings because the found family aspect of it is so much more powerful. 

If anyone has spent 5 seconds on my blog, you know that Zuko is my favorite character and I think he deserves nothing but love and support after all the shit he went through. But a big aspect of why I care about him as a character is that he put the work in to make amends. He didn’t just show up one day saying “I’ve seen the error of my ways, sorry for all the stuff I did, I’m good now” and that was that. He had to work for forgiveness and he did it because he realized the fire nation was wrong, his father was wrong, and he was wrong. His decision to switch sides had nothing to do with any connection with the gaang because he didn’t really know them. His decision to switch sides stemmed from 3 very important things: 

(1) He felt guilty not for betraying Aang and Katara in Ba Sing Se, but Iroh. He realized his uncle was the person who had given him unconditional love while Azula and Ozai’s “love” for him was entirely dependent on his ability to provide them results. From this guilt, he was able to realize that his uncle had made the right decision in siding with the Avatar and more importantly, that Ozai was wrong and that all the abuse he endured under him was undeserved. 

(2) His experiences in the Earth Kingdom as a refugee. This post explains it really well, but Zuko’s realization that everything he’s believed about the Fire Nation has been wrong is rooted in his moment of empathy with Song and her matching burn scar, his empathy with Lee who lost his brother like Zuko lost Lu Ten, his empathy with Jet who lost his way going to extremes for a cause, and, yes, his empathy with Katara who’s mother was taken from her by the Fire Nation like his was. The reason he switches sides is because after all of those experiences, he can no longer be callous or unfeeling towards the Earth Kingdom like his father or sister. The people of the Earth Kingdom either empathized with him for the pain he went through and appreciated him for his desire to help the helpless (Song, Lee, Jet) or feared and hated him for being part of a country that caused their suffering (Lee, Lee’s mom, Jet, Katara). Throughout season 2, Zuko realized the extent of what the war meant for the other side. 

(3) The realization of the extents his father would go to and the truth about Ozai’s amorality. This point is kind of just the culmination of everything in the last two points, but all that set up comes to fruition when Zuko attends the war meeting where Ozai decides to use Sozin’s Comet to commit genocide. By this point he’s racked with guilt over what he did to Iroh, he’s empathized with people who have suffered and is coming to terms with the fact that it’s not only the people of the earth kingdom that have unnecessarily suffered because of Ozai, but him as well. In that meeting, he expresses adoration for the Earth Kingdom being proud and strong and Ozai’s response is to burn it to the ground. It’s the same treatment he gave Zuko at the Agni Kai when he stuck to his morals and refused to fight and was met with abject cruelty. At that meeting, Zuko realizes that his father is wrong and that he was always wrong. He realizes that millions of people will suffer at the hands of this man who is so incredibly wrong and lacking in empathy. 

SO, keeping all that in mind. His redemption arc doesn’t stop when he switches sides, it keeps going as he makes individual amends with Aang, Sokka, and Katara. It keeps going as he learns from the dragons, as he chooses what he believes in over his girlfriend, as he risks his life to protect the gaang from Azula, and as he tries to help Aang, Sokka, and Katara find emotional closure in different aspects. He helps Aang overcome his fear of firebending. He helps Sokka regain his honor. And he helps Katara address her grief regarding her mother’s death. These four episodes are some of the best in the series because it’s not just Zuko working to make amends because he wants them to trust him, but it’s him empathizing with their trauma, their guilt, and their fear of failure because he’s been there. 

Alright, that’s a whole essay regarding why Zuko’s redemption arc works, now what does this have to do with Zutara? Here’s the deal: if any aspect of Zuko’s decisions for his redemption were influenced by romantic attraction to Katara, it would undermine the meaning of his choices for him. He made the choices to be better because he empathized with a nation of people who needlessly suffered. He made the choices to be better because he learned to cut himself off from the need to please his abusive father and accept the unconditional love of his uncle. His choice to help Katara find her mother’s murderer stemmed from empathy and his desire to be better than the people who hurt him and hurt others. The reason Katara’s resentment towards him hurt him so much was because he was trying so hard to be better than the people that were feared and hated. Katara treated him like Lee’s mom and Jet did when they realized he was a firebender (that being said, Katara was justified since Zuko’s decision to side with Azula resulted in the fall of Ba Sing Se and nearly resulted in Aang’s death), and he didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t want to be hated or feared anymore and he was willing to do anything to move past being viewed like that. So Katara’s decision to finally forgive him? It’s the point where she realizes he’s able to empathize with her over his mother’s death where her mother’s killer could not. She realized that he was different and had changed because he put the work in. And that’s huge for his redemption, not for any kind of forming relationship because that’s not the point. 

Now, concerning the whole found-family aspect I love so much? Zutara as a romantic pairing would undermine the beauty of Zuko’s ability to find a loving, supportive group of people that he was missing his entire life. Katara does not work as a romantic partner for Zuko because she works as his replacement sister. The fact is that Zuko’s actual family experience was founded on fear and not love, but the idea of “usefulness”. Zuko and Azula were only valued by Ozai so much as they were useful to him, which is why he favored (not loved) Azula, she was useful to him and Zuko wasn’t until he “slayed the Avatar”. Iroh (and Ursa for a time) was the only person who showed him unconditional love and support, but that wasn’t enough to snap him out of the need to please Ozai. Zuko rooted his entire self worth in what his family thought of him and engaged in very self-destructive behavior throughout season 1 to prove himself because he “didn’t want [his] father to think [he was] worthless”. Even throughout season 3, he still thinks that his uncle’s love for him is conditional (”my uncle hates me I I know it”) until he’s proven otherwise because that’s what he’s been taught. So him joining the gaang, that’s the first time in his life he’s really met with the concept of people liking him for himself, not for his ability to be useful (his family, Jet) or because they think he’s someone he’s not (Song, Lee, Jin). He’s met with friendship: people making fun of him in a playful way instead of tearing down his insecurities and vulnerabilities (”mind if I watch you too jerks do your jerkbending?” “so all we need to do is make Zuko angry, that should be easy enough”, “look, it’s baby Zuko!”, “actually I think [the play portrayal] is pretty spot-on”), people trying to help him fix his problems (”you need to go back to the original source”) instead of making him feel weak for not being able to solve those problems in the first place, and showing him express appreciation and encouragement (”you’re pretty smart”, “to Zuko, who knew after all the times he tried to snuff us out, today he’d be our hero”, “I’m going with Zuko!”). And that’s so. Damn. Important for his ability to heal after how he was treated for his entire life. He’s introduced to the idea that people want him to be around and they want to include him in their circle for being him. Up until the finale, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to reconcile with Iroh or if Iroh will accept his forgiveness, but these people have given him a home in their group and he’s not afraid or insecure around a group of people for the first time in his life. 

And that’s why Katara has to be the one to defeat Azula: because Azula couldn’t be the sister Zuko had and Katara could be. It’s a tragedy that Zuko and Azula were driven apart by Ozai pitting them against each other, the corruption of firebending throughout the ages so it’s regarded for its power rather than its energy, and Azula’s own insecurities and fears of losing power because, like Zuko once did, she only considers herself to be worth anything so long as she’s better than him. The abuse he endured had an effect on her to because so long as she saw that Ozai’s “love” for Zuko was conditional, that meant that his “love” for her was conditional as well (”you can’t treat me like Zuko!”). Zuko and Azula could never support each other and they could never trust each other in the way that Sokka and Katara could. They wouldn’t sacrifice anything for each other because they were conditioned to survive, to leave behind the lesser sibling in order to get ahead. But at the Agni Kai, Zuko jumps in front of the lighting for Katara because unlike Azula, she has supported him since she forgave him and is there to back him up. She thinks he can be Firelord and she thought his uncle could forgive him in a way that Azula just never could. And that’s why Katara has to be the one to defeat Azula. Not because of any romantic attraction for Zuko, but because he’s protected Aang and Sokka and her and Toph and their little found family. It’s because he’s one of them. So in that moment where Azula is defeated, screaming and sobbing because she’s lost and that means that she’s the weaker sibling, she’s gone and it’s tragic. Zuko looks upon her and he wishes it didn’t have to be like this, but it is and it’s tragic. It didn’t have to be how it was but it did and it was awful and Azula is left broken, hating her brother with murderous fury. But he’s not alone.

He has a new sister who will protect him and fight for him when he’s lost his own. 

(addition: I want to make it clear that this does not mean I think Azula is irredeemable. Her actions and outlook are 100% a product of Ozai’s abuse, as I explained. I do not think that’s she’s beyond redemption, but by the finale she was still a villain and her goal was still to kill her brother so she could be Firelord. That’s not to say that she couldn’t have eventually healed and been able to reconcile with him, but by the final Agni Kai that’s not where their relationship was. The fact that she and Zuko had a toxic relationship was not her fault, but they still had a toxic relationship built on distrust and competition where Zuko and Katara’s friendship was built on support and protection. I am entirely sympathetic towards Azula, but just because she was redeemable doesn’t mean she was redeemed and just because there was potential for her and Zuko to eventually have a better relationship doesn’t mean that they did by the end of the series.) 

[suneatersupportsquad]

means something; dream

summary: dream loses his last canon life and no one has the heart to tell the reader. the reader is in denial, confused as to why their dream isn’t coming home.

dedication: @lemonlime-system​

genre: angst, romance

pairing: c!dream x reader

characters: c!dream, c!fundy, c!nihachu, c!ranboo, c!ph1lza, c!wilbur soot, c!sapnap

word count: 2.8k

warnings: angst, alcohol, character death

a/n: this is obviously not canon so please don’t take this as such. also i’ve never written dream before so i apologize if this is a little ooc. if y’all have any suggestions on how i can improve writing for dream (or anyone else), please let me know because i’ve only recently gotten invested in the SMP. thank you :))

important links: lizzy mcalpine - means something  masterlist

I saw your name on a street sign In the middle of nowhere And that has to mean something

You and Fundy had been messing around on the server all day, this being one of your boyfriend’s busier days. You didn’t want to let yourself miss out on any of the shenanigans on the SMP just because your boyfriend couldn’t be online, so you rang up Fundy and decided to muck around a little. The two of you had been sprinting down one of the paths when you had noticed a new sign at one of the many intersections. You stopped and crouched down to read it, Fundy watching you curiously. Suddenly, you giggled. “Hey, it says Dream Street,” you beamed, turning to face him.

“What?” he laughed, stooping down to inspect it. After a moment, he straightened back up. “Huh, I guess it does.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!!” you gushed, bouncing a little. “Would you mind taking a picture of me with it, Fundy? I wanna show him later.”

After laughing a little at your face-splitting smile, he agreed. You struck a cute pose beside the sign and smiled as the Dutch man crouched a little and took the picture.

I know your zodiac sign Me and Leos get along great And that has to mean something

“Are you on your astrology shit again?” your boyfriend asked as he laid across from you on the bed, an amused smile curling his lips.

“No,” you giggled, dragging it out as you opened an app on your phone. Co-star lit up your screen as you pulled your knees to your chest. “On a completely unrelated note, your birthday’s August 12th, right?”

Dream playfully rolled his eyes, nudging you with his foot. He busied himself with the strings of his hoodie, fake-ignoring you. Looking up at you, you raised your eyebrows. Well? Your partner huffed and cracked a smile. “Yes, my birthday’s August 12th.”

You hummed, nodding a little and typing some stuff into your phone. “Huh.”

Dream looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” You looked up from your phone with the smallest, fond smile on your face. When you didn’t answer, he tried again. “What? What are you huh-ing about?”

Your smile grew a little as you started to speak. “It says that me and Leos get along great.”

“Oh my god-”

“You know what that means?” you asked, cheeks dusting pink.

The boy sitting across from you snickered a little, short puffs of air leaving his nose. “No, what does it mean?” he replied, deciding to humor you.

“Our love was written in the stars!” you exclaimed dramatically, flopping over onto his legs. “It was meant to be.” You beamed up at him, clasping your hands together.

Dream sat up, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. The smile that curved his lips was real this time, not playful or mocking or amused. It was warm and fond and home. “It sure was.”

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d been there for hours, waiting. He said he’d meet you at the bench - your bench. He said he’d meet you and you’d go for a walk and watch the sunset like you’d been planning. You had your little picnic blanket and your backpack and your dinner all packed up, probably no longer warm. You’d been ready, giddy all day, excited to watch the sunset with your one love and look at the stars and make up stupid, fake constellations and laugh at each other’s antics. You’d brought the little flower you’d made out of a piece of scrap paper too while wandering around aimlessly earlier, another little paper craft for his collection. You’d been excited. So excited that you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the dark feeling in the pit of your stomach; the feeling that something was wrong.

You refused to leave the bench, even as the breeze picked up and the sun neared the horizon. Sure, it wasn’t like Dream to be so late without giving you some sort of heads up, but maybe he was just this one time. Maybe he got caught up doing business with someone and he’d forgotten to shoot you a message. Maybe he forgot something and he had to run back home and grab it. Maybe he got stuck setting up one of his Classic Dream Surprises and had lost track of time. Maybe-

Many of your friends passed you on the path near your bench, gazing at you sympathetically but not stopping to talk. No one had the heart to break the news to you. Niki and Ranboo had lingered on the path for a little bit, whispering back and forth, debating whether or not they should check up on you. They eventually decided against it and went to go get Phil.

You bounced your leg and clutched the blanket a little tighter. It’ll be fine, he’s just running late.

I felt the way that you hugged me When I was broken inside And that has to mean something

He was gone. Wilbur was dead.

Your ears were ringing. The news had been on loop in your head since you’d received it. He’s gone, Y/N. He’s gone.

You and Wilbur had been relatively close - one could even go as far as to say that he was one of your best friends. Although you loved him dearly, you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. Unfortunately, that didn’t dull that shock that came with the news. Dream had been out on business when you’d heard, and you’d been laid up in bed ever since. You refused to look in the mirror, already well aware of how rough you probably looked. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying, and you’d been wearing the same big hoodie all day. For the past two hours you’d been doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling, replaying every little moment you could remember from your friendship in your head. It hurt. Everything hurt.

You hadn’t heard when the front door opened. Or when Dream called out into the eerily quiet house, announcing that he was home. Or even the steps of your boyfriend approaching from down the hall. He opened the door, confused to see you in bed, puffy-eyed and motionless. You sat up in bed when you noticed a blur of green standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

The two of you stared at one another for a moment, the tension nearly palpable. Dream’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he stared at you in a vain effort to assess the situation, neither of you breathing. He blinked and your bottom lip began to quiver. Concerned, he look forward and you let out a wail, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He caught you, kneeling awkwardly over you on the bed to hold you tight against his chest. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“He’s - gone,” you managed out between sobs.

“Who’s gone, honey?”

“Wil-” You hiccupped. “Wilbur’s dead.”

I felt the way that you kissed me When we got too drunk that night And that had to mean something

It was a good night; you and your boyfriend were sat around your candlelit coffee table having a celebratory drink. Celebrating what, you may ask? Well, no other occasion than Dream successful negotiating with a business partner. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why this negotiation was more important that your partner’s other successful business ventures, but his excitement was enough for you to give in.

You’d started drinking and talking around sunset. It was now nearing midnight and the two of you found yourselves dancing, slowly swaying to the tune of Dream’s humming. He lifted his chin from the top of your head, and you looked up to meet his gaze, curious. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

His breath fanned across your face, warming your already pink cheeks. Your lips curled in a lazy smile. He smelled like red wine and something smoky. You loved him like this, all close and vulnerable and yours.

Scrunching up your nose, you scoffed. “Can you kiss me?” you mocked playfully, leaning into him a little more. “Of course you can kiss me; we’re dating, love.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” he replied breathily, leaning down to lock your lips. Your noses brushed together, your eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. You clasped your hands behind his neck, leaning up the slightest bit on your tiptoes, and he held your elbows. The kiss was timid, but it warm and him and love and home. It was soft and sweet and comfortable. He kissed you like he was promising you the future, that everything would be okay. Like he was telling you he would always be there to take care of you.

When you pulled away, he moved to cup your cheeks, keeping your foreheads pressed together. For a good, long while, the two of you stayed standing like that, just swaying and smiling at each other.

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d curled up on the bench by now, knees pulled up to your chest and wrapped in your picnic blanket. He’s coming, you assured yourself, chin tucked into your hoodie. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and you’d resorted to tapping your foot against the wood of the bench in the awkward position. You didn’t bother checking your clock; you didn’t want to know how long you’d been waiting anymore. You just wanted to sit there and wait until your boyfriend showed up.

The paper flower you’d so carefully made for him had been cupped between your palms for hours now, probably sweaty and wilted. You’d thought about setting it down - but what if it blew away? What if you accidentally lost it?

You lost yourself a little staring out into the distance, trying to make out some kind of constellation in the inky darkness of the night. Sighing you slumped a little, trying not to let your paranoia get the best of you. At least you were both under the same sky. It was admittedly getting pretty chilly, but you didn’t care. You’d wait at your bench until Dream got here.

A hand gently met your shoulder, and you jumped. You smiled excitedly, relaxing. “Finally-” you started, turning to face him. Your smile dropped when, instead, you turned to be met with Phil’s sad smile. Confused and somewhat disappointed, you cocked your head. “Hi.”

“Hi, Y/N,” the older man greeted softly, moving around the bench. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Your brows furrowed once again, concerned. He seemed really serious. Scooting to one side, you patted the space beside you. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”

He sighed sadly at that, taking a seat next to you on the bench. “I have some news,” he started carefully.

“News?” you echoed, sounding a little empty.

Phil inhaled deeply, sensing that you already knew that something was wrong. “Yeah, I have some news for you.”

You blinked slowly, turning to face him better. “Okay, what is it?”

“Let me start by saying however you react to this is totally okay, alright?” he began softly, watching as you nodded numbly.  “So, uhm.” He paused, wringing his hands. “Dream’s gone.”

“Yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “He’s on his way here.”

“No, Y/N-” He paused again, trying to figure out how to word it delicately. “He’s not with us anymore.”

You scoffed in disbelief at Phil’s stubbornness. “Yes, Phil, I know. He’s away on business.”

“Y/N.” A sigh escaped his lips as he covered his mouth with his hand, now genuinely afraid of how you were processing things. “Y/N, he’s dead.” He waited for you to respond but, instead, you just blinked at him. “There was a disagreement during their meeting and things got out of hand-” Another pause. “He’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

Every time I think too much It ends up crazy I don’t know how to not think about you Every time I trust my gut I think I’m crazy ‘Cause I don’t know how to put my trust in you

It had been a few hours since you’d gotten the news, and the denial has slowly faded away. He would’ve texted you if he’d been running late. He wouldn’t have left you there for hours and hours, waiting for him on a little bench.

After the initial shock had worn off, you’d gone home to process things, and to say that things didn’t turn out pretty would be an understatement. Once you had gotten home, you went straight to your shared bedroom and made a mountain out of his clothes. Grabbing a case of beer from the fridge, you sat on the floor and stared at his stuff for a long while. You only had two bottles, knowing that drinking yourself out of feeling probably wouldn’t be the best solution right now, but you still sat there nursing your drink as the tears silently rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d been here before.

By the time you’d heard the knock at your front door, the house was a mess. Picture frames were shattered, anything that belonged to Dream or reminded you of him was scattered about, his snacks were piled up on the kitchen counters, his shoes were stacked up behind the bedroom door - the entire house was in a state of complete chaos. And there you were, wailing and dragging yourself through the mess towards the front door. You swung open the door, which bounced off of an overflowing box of trinkets Dream had collected from you, and there was Sapnap standing awkwardly on your front porch.

You were suddenly aware of how rough you looked, red nose and puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks in all of your grieving glory. You’d put on a pair of his sweats and a random hoodie he’d gifted you for one of your anniversaries, both of which were obviously too big for you. You sniffled, looking up at the man sadly.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sapnap asked softly, wondering what exactly was and wasn’t okay to ask someone who’d just heard that their partner had passed away.

Your eyebrows knit together and something inside of you broke. You tried to choke back a sob, but it came out as a sputtering cough as a waterfall of tears poured down your face. “No,” you wailed, slumping in on yourself and grabbing fistfuls of the extra fabric of the hoodie you were wearing. Losing a little bit of your self-control, you lurked forward and threw your arms around the other, who didn’t hesitate to pull you into himself. Rubbing circles into your back, he walked you back into the house. Navigating the mess of you trying to sort out all of Dream’s things was no easy task but, eventually, he led you to your living room. 

The both of you sat down on the couch, you still hugging him and him still rubbing circles into your back. He would hold you for as long as you needed, humming a little in a vain attempt to try and make you feel better. “I know it’s hard that he’s gone now,” he started, trying not to start crying himself. “But it’ll be okay, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

Do you think it means something That I wrote another song about you?

You sang softly, kicking your legs from where you sat at the edge of the cliff you’d found. It was some coping and recovery exercise Bad had recommended - writing songs or poems or stories or whatever about things you were struggling to come to terms with. You had to admit that it had helped some. When you’d first started with the writing, you’d chosen to start writing songs because you’d seen how happy Dream had been when he used to write music. You wanted a part of that. You wanted to understand what had made him so happy.

So you gave it a shot and here you were, singing a song you’d written for him, sitting on your picnic blanket and watching as the sun set, painting the sky with oranges and pinks. It almost felt as though he were right beside you, swaying along to the tune no matter how good or bad it was. You could feel him smiling down at you from wherever the hell he was. You were okay now. You were safe and recovering and taking care of yourself. Wherever he was, you’d make sure that he knew. He means something to you.

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

TITLE: Out of the Grave - Chapter 1: The Void

A/N: An alt ending/fix-it fic. Because we and they deserved better--so I made it happen.

83 hours and 37 minutes. Not that he'd kept a count exactly. Just that his eidetic mind knew the exact moment Abbie had left this world, taking his heart with her and leaving him hollow, and his quick thoughts often calculated the duration he'd kept breathing without her. He'd spent the first 6 hours and 24 minutes working with Miss Jenny and Master Mills—and ultimately, ironically, his old pal the Horseman—to try to defeat Pandora and force her to release his Lieutenant, only to learn she'd actually expired. The dreams he'd had, sweet and aching moments with Abbie reflecting on their meet cute, time in the Archives, relaxing on their front porch where she'd tried to explain why he should let her go, would never suffice. He hadn't said the things he'd wanted—needed—to, hadn't explained how she'd helped save him: from roaming lost in this world, from imprisonment and institutionalization, from his son and the myriad monsters they'd encountered, from a wife who'd never truly been honest with him. And yes more important matters: from going mad, drowning in loneliness, feeling isolated, floating adrift in a world that still confounded him sometimes. And at times even saving him from himself. No, he hadn't said any of those things. And now he never could. Which is why he'd spent the next 49 hours and 52 minutes drowning his sorrows, his hollowed out chest, and his overactive mind in rivers of alcohol. He hadn't gotten smashed or wallowed in oblivion. No, he'd needed it to last, so he'd drunk just enough as the hours passed to keep the clawing ache in his empty ribcage from swallowing him whole. Miss Jenny had come by sometime around hour 32, banging on the door so hard he thought the roof would cave in. If he'd cared at all, he might feel concerned about her waking the neighbors in the dead of night, but he couldn't muster enough decency to. He'd ignored her at first, thinking she'd take a hint, or at least think him not home, but her insistent knocking continued. "I know you're in there, Crane." More banging. "Let me in there, or get out of my sister's house." It was a low blow, but one he deserved, for Miss Jenny had lost just as much as he had. If anyone had earned the right to drown her demons with liquor right next to him, it was her.

He'd stumbled to the door—okay, maybe he had gotten smashed, for he felt her knocking vibrate through his brain—bottle in hand, and unlocked it, turning the knob and walking away before he'd even seen her face. The slam of the door rattled the house but not him, and he shuffled back to his couch cushion, dropping down onto it, sipping from the bottle, and staring into the fireplace embers. Jenny said not a word, simply restarted the fire and plopped down on the other end of the couch, gazing at the vibrant blaze as it danced shadows around the room. After a few minutes, he threw out his arm towards her, bottle in hand, and she took it from him, downing a few gulps to try to silence the ache. She tried to return it to him, but he waved her off, waiting another 30 minutes before slowly rising—why did simply existing hurt so much?—and  retrieving a few more bottles, which he'd purchased on his way home from that graveyard, from the stash in the kitchen. He placed them on the cushion between them, an open bar for them to sink into. Another few hours dragged by, and he felt more than heard Jenny crying at some point, the room changing from desperation, anger, and pain to grief and mourning, and he joined her, tears cascading down his face unabashedly. Their silence made their shared sorrow all the more palpable, exchanging emotions they couldn't speak aloud, the shroud around them sucking the whimpering breaths out of them as easily as it'd done to their partners. How could he have kept silent all this time, holding in and swallowing down the words that'd desperately begged for release? He'd tried to ignore them, the burgeoning affection, passion—now that it mattered no longer, he could admit it, cowardly fiend that he was—and love he'd harbored for Abbie since long before proprietary permitted it. He'd killed his wife for her, for Heaven's sake! And while he pretended mere friendship, ignored everything that screamed at him to make his feelings known, he hadn't hidden a damn thing. Miss Corinth, Betsy, even Pandora had seen his love for her. What an abominable fool he'd been. And now the one person who needed to know, who should've heard it from his own lips a thousand times over, never would. He let the tears burn down his face, though they washed none of his self-recriminations away. He deserved every horrid thought he had about himself. They ripped through his mind, scathing him, leaving him more raw and aching than he could ever remember feeling before. His entire body ached, joints, marrow, muscles, head, chest. And still he sipped on, needing the numb, refusing the full onslaught of trauma a clear mind would force him to face. He'd lost before, lost battles and comrades and his dignity. Lost loves and his homeland and best friend and life. His world and his wife and his son and the dreams he'd had and held and hoped for. Hell, he'd even lost Abbie a few times. But never where he couldn't get her back. Never where he couldn't find a way to follow, to find, to free her. And Master Corbin too. To lose both within hours of each other...they could shrivel into oblivion right now and it'd feel better than this. Master Joe had become his compatriot, his comrade in arms against the monsters and the daily dose of estrogen floating around the Archives—not that he'd trade the Mills sister or Agent Foster for ten regiments of men—not to mention a brother and friend. And Abbie...the ache in his chest seized him anew, and his shoulders hunched in against the black hole of despair threatening his breath. He couldn't begin to enumerate all the things she'd become to him. Partner, secret-keeper, fellow Witness, best friend, confidant, companion, roommate, voice of reason, inspiration, keeper of his heart. He thought he'd been in love once, had been in fact, but losing her had felt nothing like this. He'd sat in pain, suffered with the guilt that he'd not devoted enough to her, hadn't held tightly enough to a union that hadn't been what he'd agreed to, despaired that she'd died by his own hand in an effort to save Abbie. He'd had to—it hadn't even been a choice by then. Now, though, without Abbie...he didn't know how to keep breathing, wasn't sure he wanted to. Couldn't see beyond the bottom of the bottle. How could he walk through the world, the Archives, the town, this house, with memories of her around every corner, breathing down his neck, invading his mind, shredding the broken pieces of his heart into shavings? How could he solve the mysteries of the supernatural without her intellect, expertise, and help? What was one Witness to do without his other half, the best part of him, his anchor to this era? He couldn't sit still with himself and his maudlin ruminations another second. Without thinking, Ichabod hefted himself off the couch and shuffled down the hallway, making a pit stop before grabbing a box of tissues from the hall closet. He set them down on the cushion between them and took his seat again. Jenny had stayed until the sun was well into the sky, barely any words spoken but sharing the pain of their losses just the same. She'd stretched her hand out towards him, bridging the empty spaces around them with a simple reach of her arm across the cushion. He looked at her hand, open and alone in the expanse between them, and he slid his hand into hers, both of them holding on and squeezing tightly, attempting to convey all the things they couldn't speak with words. A moment later, she slipped quietly out of the house, the finality of the door clicking closed somehow louder than the slam she'd entered it with, sealing him into a solitude he'd never comprehend. More hours passed as he'd slept off the nasty hangover he wouldn't admit he had, as he sat in the bathtub letting the hot water steam over him until it cooled off and had him shivering, as he roamed aimlessly from room to room, gazing longingly at all the remnants of Agent Lieutenant Grace Abigail Mills: her hairbrush, those heeled boots that still left her a foot shorter than him, the cappuccino she'd just started drinking again at his behest, her pea coat with the faux-fur hood that made her look adoringly like a diminutive Eskimo. Now, just over 84 hours had passed, and he still didn't have a sweet clue as to how to get through the next one, still sat in this one corner of the couch, only this time without a drink in his hand. Without so many things... Without a case to work, without his partner in crime and, he'd begun to hope, in life from here until the end, without a purpose, he might as well lay back down in that cave he'd emerged from and sleep for a few more centuries. "Crane." Her voice, soft and lilting and perfect, floated to him, a haunting sound he both craved and feared. He'd thought he might have imagined her during his indulgent consumption of alcohol, but no...it was here in his lucid moments that he'd conjured the sound of her, the voice he'd long to hear until the day he drew his last breath. "Crane." She sounded hesitantly happy, guardedly optimistic, a smile coming through her tone. Exactly how he heard her in his mind, same as he'd done when she'd been lost in the catacombs. He shook his head slightly to escape from her, not ready for conversations with her yet, everything about him still too raw to face all of the things he needed to apologize for, all of the things he'd never had the audacity to tell her when she'd stood by him, encouraged him, spurred him on. "Ichabod." She accompanied her insistent tone and the rare use of his first name with a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, scrambling up from the couch to face whatever ghoul had come to destroy his feeble, battered mind. And his jaw dropped. There she stood...Abbie. In one piece, small in stature but large in presence, beautiful and strong and...breathing. How could this be? "Abbie...?" His whispered question sounded more like a squeak, but he didn't dare try again, wasn't sure what devilry was at work here, arriving to destroy him when he was at his lowest, his most vulnerable. She looked at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and apology, a small smile of hesitation and hope playing on her face. "Hi."

[robinofinashiro]

request from anonymous: “hewwwoooo my favourite fanfic writer! i love ur ficssss so much. they keep me sane during this quarantine. may i request for a cute fic with porco and reiner chasing after the same girl (the reader)” 

note: i’m done with finals! you guys can send anything you’d like now! but sjksjksjk, i’m your fave??? but i went with the AU bc that’s what ppl have been asking for so i’m just assuming. 

request status: fully open!

pairing: porco galliard, reiner braun x fem! reader

you sat with Marcel as the two of you tried to cram for the same exam you had coming up. you were a year underneath him but you were in the honors program at the university so you almost had the same classes as he did. 

“between this exam and the project for Bio, I think my brain is going to combust,” you murmured to Marcel. he chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee, “well that and considering I heard my brother on Facetime with you until three in the morning, that could also contribute to your fatigue,” your face fell warm at the comment. 

you chucked a scrap piece of paper at hime, making him dodge it. you saw Reiner walking towards the two of you. you waved him over, his face instantly lighting up. 

“hey Braun, I thought you said you were going to skip coming to campus today?” you asked. he shook his head, sitting down next to you, almost immediately wrapping his arm around you, “nah, figured that if I didn’t come today, I wouldn’t see you until next Monday,” he mentioned. 

you saw Marcel’s face drop in slight annoyance before shaking it off. you couldn’t help but wonder what made him do that but decided not to pay too much attention. 

“that’s very flattering,” you murmured shyly. “so, what’s a cutie like yourself doing this Saturday,” he asked, “oh! I have plans with Marcel and Porco. they want to check out this restaurant a few towns over and Porco offered for me to come along,” you said excitedly. 

Reiner rolled his eyes, not happy about your plans, “why? were you planning on doing something?” you asked. Marcel immediately texted his brother to come down to the cafe. he hated to get into other peoples business, especially if it came to his hot headed brothers personal life but he knew more than anyone how you meant to him so he had to do the brother thing and notify him of Reiner’s intentions. 

“I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to come with Bertholdt, Annie, and I to ice skate, I wanted to take you as my plus one,” he stated. 

you thought for a moment. 

“well, what time are you guys planning on going? I can come after I’m done with Porco and Marcel!” you said excitedly. Reiner’s eyebrow raised as he saw Porco basically jetting down the stairs, “oh hey, Porco’s here!” you exclaimed 

Reiner remained silent, looking at the boy who was now glaring at him. the two of them continued to stare at each other, making you wonder why the air suddenly became thick. 

“uh, guys?” you said clapping your hands in front of their faces. they both instantly looked down at you, “sorry,” Reiner said bringing you to his side, “I was just thinking of something,” he spat.

Porco laughed sarcastically, “care to mention what is was, Braun?” he asked. you looked to Marcel for help, “guys, enough, let it go. Porco, you need to head home to grab your soccer gear,” Marcel said. 

the two of them brushed off the words as you placed your hand on Reiner’s shoulder, “hey, how about you come with me to class. I want to get there a bit early and I know your class is in the next hall,” you whispered, hoping they would finally end their stand off. 

“sure, I have no problem in walking you,” he said. Porco’s anger instantly rose, “I’ll come bring you lunch. I know how much you like the restaurant by my house,” you looked over to Porco, “you really don’t have too. you’re already paying for my dinner tomorrow so I can’t make you do that again,” you tried to say. 

Porco grabbed your hand, “for you, I’d do anything,” Marcel’s mouth dropped at the sudden declaration of love that was not normal coming out of his brother. Reiner on the other hand immediately retracted you from his grasp before taking your other hand, “lets go before you’re late,” he said. 

you gave Porco one final smile before walking away with Reiner. Marcel stared his brother in disbelief, not knowing what to do with what he just saw. “well, you gonna explain what I just saw?” he asked. 

Porco shook his head, “no,” and with that, he walked away. Marcel followed him, “listen, you know I’m the last to get in your business but this little competition over her has to stop. either one of you confesses and she accepts it before it goes to the shit and ends up dating someone else because of both of your immaturity,” Marcel lectured. 

“don’t you think I know that?” Porco retorted, “I’ve been fighting tooth and nail for her and I refuse to lose to Reiner of all people. plus, I heard from Pieck that she plans on choosing one of us soon so if it happens before she hangs out with Reiner on Saturday night then it’ll just be the cherry on top of it all.” 

Marcel rolled his eyes, brushing off his friend and brother immature attitude. 

+

Saturday morning finally came as you crawled out of bed. being that today was relatively the last day you had with both boys before you confessed to Reiner or Porco, you woke up with a feeling of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. 

“you ready for tonight?” Pieck said over Facetime. you shrugged, “kind of. I’m just nervous. regardless of who I actually like, the other is going to be so upset and I’m more than likely going to lose a friendship out of them,” you replied. 

she nodded understandingly, “well, do you know who really owns that heart of yours? one of them has to stand out more than the other,” she replied. “it’s hard. Reiner is such an amazing guy. he understands me in ways that Porco doesn’t. arguably, he’s been there a lot more than Porco has but Porco is just so different. he’s almost as if he’s the piece that I’m missing.” 

you growled, putting your head against the wall as she laughed, “listen, don’t stress yourself out. just see how today goes and if you happen to see that you like one more than the other, tell them right there,” you nodded as you saw Porco’s message telling you he was outside. 

you told Pieck goodbye before slipping on shoes and grabbing your bag. she could only hope that if you didn’t pick Porco, you let him down easy. she knew how Porco was, especially towards Reiner and didn’t want to be at the receiving end of the news if you told him no. 

“hey Marcel, Porco!” you said excitedly. Porco grabbed your hand softly as Marcel jokingly gagged, “be quiet. you’re just mad you don’t have anyone to be with,” Porco told him, “my date is meeting us there so fuck off,” Marcel countered.

the entire ride to the restaurant was you three just talking about whatever came up and because Porco sat in the back with you, he held your hand the entire time. every so often, he would rub your hand with his thumb making your face a bit warm. 

his grasp was very different in comparison to Reiner’s. Reiner’s hold was soft, almost like a delicate flower as Porco really held your hand as if it was the last time he’d ever get to hold it. 

“we’re here so get out my car,” Marcel said. you gave him the finger before hopping out of the so he could find parking. Porco held your hand, walking you to the small bench a bit away from the restaurant. you were confused as to why. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said grabbed your hand. you nodded for him to continue, “I know I’m basically fighting for you with Reiner. Ik know the two of you are close but I want you to know that I’d be the best option for you. I can give you the world and more,” he whispered before bringing you in for a kiss. 

he was lucky that the bench was so far from the restaurant as he slipped his hand on your thigh, pinching it softly. you moaned quietly at the movement but quickly enough moved back. 

“not here Porco and it’s not fair to Reiner and you know it.” 

he nodded as he let himself off you before getting up and giving you his hand. the two of you walked to the entrance of the restaurant, greeting Marcel’s date before walking in. 

+

after the dinner you walked to Marcel’s car, he had given Porco the key mentioning he’d get a ride back with his date. you sat in the passenger seat, holding his hand harder than you would be. 

the drive was eerily silent. he knew that you were now going to be with Reiner, essentially on a date with him and he had no control of what you did with him so the nervousness was bubbling up in his stomach. 

as he got the rink, he saw Reiner grabbing your pair of skates and paying for your ticket. he saw the way your face lit up at seeing him and a bit of sadness washed over him. 

“i’ll talk to you later?” you asked as he nodded. Porco kissed your hand softly before letting you out of the car and pulling out of the lot. 

you ran too Reiner, Annie, and Bertl, them saying hi almost instantly. Reiner handed you the skates as he patted the seat next to him. 

“here, I’ll tie your skates for you,” he offered, pulling your legs up. you smiled, “thank you Reiner,” you whispered. he slowly tied the skates before rubbing your legs softly, “you look amazing tonight,” he mentioned. 

you smiled, “stop, you’re just saying that,” your murmured shyly. he shook his head no, “i’m not. I’m glad you came out tonight and I want to show you that tonight is going to make up for whatever you didn’t enjoy today,” he added on. 

Reiner grabbed your hand, the one specifically Porco had kissed and brought you closer. this time, the kiss he had given you wasn’t as heated as Porco’s was. it was softer, more gentle, and nice. 

“lets go before Bertl and Annie think something happened to us,” he joked, finally pulling away. 

REINER ENDING: 

the entire time you were with Reiner, he had you within close proximity almost the entire night. singing songs in your ear as they played through the loud speaker of the rink. ‘you were meant for me’ from the movie Singing in the Rain was specifically the song he was singing. 

your face had felt warm the entire time. you found it sweet that such an old song was what he chose and knew from heart. 

Bertholdt and Annie had left the two of you a while after skating. the two of them claiming they were cold but you knew it was more of the fact that they probably wanted to give you privacy. 

“we should get going before you catch a cold,” Reiner said finally taking his skates off on the bench. he once again helped out unlace the shoes before handing them to the worker and meeting you back on the bench. 

the two of you walked to his car, him opening the door for you. upon him getting in the car, you looked over to him and smiled before reaching over and giving him a kiss. he instantly returned it, happy that his car was parked in a section with not many people looking in. 

“wait, i can’t do this, i don’t want to get my hopes up,” Reiner said trying to pull back. you sighed knowing what you were about to say would be just like word vomit, “Reiner, it’s not getting your hopes up if I’m just waiting for you to ask me out,” you whispered. 

his eyes widened, realizing what you meant. “wait, are you saying?” he asked. you nodded shyly as he practically fist pumped the air in excitement, “I’m so happy to hear those words,” he said pulling you in for another kiss. 

you let him kiss you for a while before pulling away, “I need to get home. I should text Porco,” you told him. Reiner nodded as he finally pulled out the parking lot and making his way back to your dorm. the entire time you had texted Porco. 

“I’m sorry Porco.” 

as soon as he received the message, he knew what it meant. he felt his anger rising as his hands clenched in anger. Marcel was sitting beside him as Porco stood up from the couch, leaving his phone accidentally open. he peered down to the message and sighed. 

Marcel knew you had no intentions to upset him so badly but he just felt sad at seeing his brother so upset. 

PORCO ENDING: 

you looked too Reiner and nervously smiled at him, “hey Reiner, do you think you can take me back to my dorm?” you asked. a part of him felt the shift in the air as you couldn’t really look at him anymore. 

Reiner was starting to connect the dots as you were silent through the drive home. you were holding his hand but not the way you would be and trying to make conversation but couldn’t keep it up. 

once you got back to your dorm building, you got out, Reiner walking you to the empty back entrance. you held his hand as you stood in front of him. “you don’t have to tell me, I can tell,” he told you, now holding both your hands, “i know but I feel so bad,” you murmured. 

Reiner shook his head no, “don’t. the world was meant for us just to be friends and as long as I’m able to be your friend, that’s all I ask,” you nodded as he placed on final kiss on the top of your head before giving you a small goodbye. 

you looked to your phone and texted Porco wondering if he could meet you at your dorm. you made your way to your room, kicking your shoes off and pulling on a hoodie and shorts. 

getting a response that he was downstairs, you walked down slowly, seeing him holding something in his hand. you opened the door as you stood in front of him and smiled. 

“how are you?” he asked softly, “fine, glad you wanted to meet me this late,” you responded. Porco laughed as he grabbed your hand, “always,” he replied. 

you pulled him in for a hug, surprising him a bit, “I hate to say it this way but I want you,” you managed to say. Porco’s mouth dropped a bit before he picked you up and spun you around, “seriously?” he asked. 

you nodded as he brought you down for a kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck. the two of you remained that way before you finally pulled away and looked at him with a soft smile. 

“you have no idea how happy that makes me. can i just cuddle you for a while?” he asked. you nodded as you opened the door and let him practically let him carry you in. 

[shadowturtlesstuff]

I’m sorry too..

Based off Speak now by Taylor Swift. There will be a chapter two eventually in Thomas’s perspective which will be way more dramatic but my brain is bad at finishing things so we shall see how long it takes. Posting this during my history class as there is nothing else to do...so enjoy

In all my time falling in love with Mr. Cresswell, I never expected to be an outsider at his wedding. Sitting alone on the back row to wallow in my misery. It is cruel that once I got over my fear of marriage and decided it would be perfect to spend the rest of my life with Thomas, it is torn from us by his father. The church is nice, made up with everything his bride-to-be wanted without a trace of his charm. He stands at the front, staring intensely at the door as though it will swallow you up and save him. He tries his best not to look at me or display his heartbreak. To everyone else he is impatiently waiting for miss Whitehall. However, I know all his calls. Knuckles white as he tries and bite down his anger. Pushing his emotions away in order to get through this.

This is surely not what any of us thought it would be. I want nothing more than for it to be our wedding. For him to be more relaxed, truly impatient and bursting with emotion. His expression will haunt, embedded in my brain like a wine stained dress, I'll try my hardest to forget his grief stricken face watching his future- our future, dissipate. To count the minutes until everything changes and we become trapped in our feelings that can never show. With everything that is happening I may have to stop working with Thomas. How would it be fair to us both if we continue on thinking nothing has happened and pretending we are not in love? That when I am away from Thomas I almost lose my mind. Yet, not only is our wedding taken away from us, our friendship shall be too. Back in Romania Thomas had told me the world is neither kind nor cruel; but as I sit and watch Thomas become shackled in this marriage I find it hard to believe the world is not vicious. It is full of murderers, liars, thieves and people intent on ruining other peoples lives.

The organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death march and everyone in the room stops breathing as the door opens and Miss Whitehall begins to float down the aisle like a queen. I steal a glance at Thomas who has finally caved and is staring at me. It is a piercing gaze, pleading and begging for something to save him. Even though there is nothing to be done.

Thomas’s stare costumes me, setting me alight, destroying me completely. He is stranded, helpless. I feel sick. I want to reach out and tell him it will work out even though it won’t. I want to hold him close to me, to feel his arms around me as we try and hide in false hope. But I am not the kind of girl who would interrupt a wedding even though my skin is crawling with the need to scream how wrong this is.

Miss Whitehall nudges Thomas and he reluctantly looks away from me. She throws a scowl my way because I am all Thomas can think about. I ignore it, just as I ignore the growing silence that pounds against me. The priest starts to do the speech but no sounds are made except my beating heart. Silence stretches on for an eternity and my heart stops beating as I hear the words: ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace.’

There is a silence that differs from before. It has changed as anticipation seeps into the room. Thomas looks, scanning the crowd before landing on me. Could I really interrupt? Save Thomas from this fate and change our futures. It is perhaps my last chance. I take a risk and make a decision so reckless Thomas would've been proud at the dramatic nature of it -if it wasn't about us.

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply as I stand up slowly. My eyes open and Thomas is still staring at me. I hide my hands behind my back. There are gasps and horrified looks from everyone in the room but I can only focus on Thomas. Relief and fear and emotions I can't figure out are mixed in his dark brown eyes. There is a faint smile as we stand staring at each other.

I recall all the times Thomas has saved me, how many times he has dragged me from dark thoughts with his teasing, witty remarks. I remember all the times we have saved each other. How we were meant to spend the rest of our lives having adventures, saving one another and loving each other with our whole heart. I can't imagine a world where I am not beside my annoyingly charming best friend. To not be able to rely on someone who knew what I was thinking when I didn't seems impossible. We were meant to stop crime together with uncle Johnathan. Start a family so one day sir Isaac can have a friend. I wanted to keep discovering everything about him and never feel like I truly know everything because we promised each other a lifetime of surprises. I want to be able to fall in love with him in ways I never expected. For his love to make me feel safe, for early mornings where he traps me in his arms and we forget everything but each other.

I want to be the one walking down the aisle to Thomas surrounded by our family. To feel loved by everyone in that room as I take my place beside my friend and hear Thomas's vows to me. Ones that radiate his love and make me feel his promises to me. I want to do the same for him, say my vows and see him smile, no doubt saying something inappropriate just to see me smile. I want to spend the rest of my life making Thomas smile and smiling freely at him.

We cannot do any of that if he is married to another.

The world fades till it is just Thomas and I. Staring and waiting for me to interrupt. Slowly I let my fears ebb away as I began to say all the reasons why this wedding should not occur. No words escape. Thomas remains still, waiting. I reach up for my throat and try to say his name.

Nothing.

I remain silently screaming, pleading, hoping that I will regain the ability to speak or Thomas will react. Yet nothing happens and I feel as though I am suffocating. There is nothing I can do, no way to prevent such heartbreak. There is just nothing i can do no matter how much i try and move or say Thomas’s name. Helplessness gathers around me, suffocating, crawling all over my skin.

No. No. No. No. Please....

“Audrey rose?'' Thomas's voice slices through me. The world comes back to me and I am not standing up interrupting Thomas's wedding, but sitting across from him in the library. His glance is filled with concern and I wonder how long he has been trying to talk to me. I blink away the image of his wedding I conjured in my mind and how real it felt. How real it will be as he is still yet to marry miss Whitehall today. The sound of his fingers tapping on the wood is normally a sound I hate. However, I stare at his hand and wonder when the sight of him will not be available to me because I am no longer in his life.

He clears his throat and I slowly look at his face. My handsome friend is full of grief and concern as his eyes meet mine. He tries a smile, a sad smile that breaks my heart because instead of his usual smirk or his genuine smile, it is small and full of pity for us both.

Swallowing my own pain I return it as I don't know how long or how many smiles we have left. We haven't spoken about after the wedding or after this case but we both understand how unfair it will be if we remain working together. So I cherish the smile even if it will remain in my dreams whenever I think about everything that has and will happen.

“Thomas?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I watch as he quickly glances at the clock, the one hanging above us that feels like it is counting down to the end of the world. I have refused to look at it, to count the minutes until Thomas has to leave for his wedding. His. Not ours.

It is time, no matter how much I want to deny it, it is time for him to leave and get ready for his wedding. Sucking in a sharp breath as I look back at Thomas, I can't decide whether marrying someone you don't love is worse than watching someone you love marry someone else. Either one creates such hopelessness and a pit of despair that threatens to drag me down and prevent me from ever escaping. I can't imagine what Thomas is feeling, the emotions waging war inside of him.

“I am so sorry about this Wadsworth.”

“I know, I don't blame you Cresswell, you know this.” I interrupt him before he apologises again.

“Even if you don’t blame me I can be sorry for you, for us both.”

We sit in silence and I feel I can hear the time speed up and try to take Thomas from me even if he remains seated across from me.

Thomas begins to stand, my heart rising as though to go with him. Before he leaves I debate trying to keep him here but instead I say “I'm sorry too.”

It makes no difference, solves nothing as he grabs his coat and leaves to get ready for his wedding.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

[xo-phile]

Tides (M!Mer x Fem!Reader) p2

╔═════ ∘◦ ☟ ◦∘ ══════╗

Excerpt: “Why are you telling me this now, Willow?” you asked, chewing on your straw.

“I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business.”

You glared at your friend and she snickered under breath, elegantly swirling her drink with a perfectly manicured hand.

“I just want you to be happy. And I don’t want to see you missing out on a good thing.”

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: thalassaphobia, situational anxiety, some spice

Author’s Note: To the readers who left such sweet messages, liked, followed, reblogged, and to the person who sent me my first ko-fi ever... YOU LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE ಥωಥ. Life has been crazy with job interviews and school starting soon, so I appreciate your patience! If you would like to be tagged so you get notified for the next update please let me know!

Part 1 ✦ Part 3 🍋

╚═════ ∘◦ ☝︎ ◦∘ ══════╝

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Ancient skeletons of long dead trees haunted the sands of Driftwood Beach. Petrified branches bent in all directions, reaching toward the sky, celebrating that even in death, their bodies served as an organic playground and haven for the living. Children and adults alike climbed along the writhing branches of trees fallen centuries before. Even in death, the haunted were kept loving company by the living.

You stood at the edge of the water, relishing in the way your toes pressed further into the sand as the cool water rushed past your ankles. The sun was low, coloring the skies a soft sorbet pink and orange. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Teddy victimized the seagulls making their way inland for the night.Your eyes drifted toward the open water of Lake Obsidian, its deep blue darkening as they day neared its end. From your point of view on the beach, the water was calm. Inside, you felt a tumult in your stomach, churning at what Dresden could possibly have planned when he asked to meet you.

Suddenly, Teddy was yapping at the water and in the distance you saw a familiar, finned form waving in the distance.

"You gonna stand there all day? We're gonna lose sunlight!"

You shuffled your feet in the sand.

"I was thinking we could start small! Here seems like really good progress already!"

Even from yards away you could see the exasperation on Dresden's face. You turned to see Teddy run head-long into the crashing waves, doggy-paddling toward Dresden, big brown head bobbing happily in the water.

"You're really gonna let your beast show you up like that?" the merman chided.

Show off, you thought ruefully. You stripped yourself of your jean shorts and jacket, down to bikini bottoms and rash guard. Despite the buzz of anxiety in your stomach, you picked up your paddle board and made your way out into waves. With every step you took the water rose higher and higher, until you stopped in your tracks. Waist deep in the water, your body refused to take a step further, muscles locking up in place.

"You're doing great! Keep coming towards me!" You looked up to see Dresden’s lopsided grin cheering you on.

"Dresden, I can't do this," you blurted clutching desperately at your floating paddle board, "I want to go back."

The water around you ebbed and flowed, swaying you with a force you weren’t familiar with and there was a gentle push at your back that you resisted. If it weren't for the death-grip on your board, your hands would have no doubt been shaking. Even when you were a kid, there was not enough candy or promises of gifts in the world that would have cajoled you into swimming in deep water. This was the farthest you had ever been and the newfound sensations were overwhelming.

"Wait wait wait! Just wait for me! I'll come to you, don't move!" He dove below the surface of the water, his flukes flashing before disappearing completely. Moments later, his head resurfaced in front of you.

"How're you feeling?" Dresden asked, eyeing the no-doubt panicky expression on your face.

"Like I'm about to crawl out of my skin."

He let out a little chuff at which you glared at.

"You're making jokes. That's good," he laughed. You held his gaze, trying to ignore the vast expanse of water around you. But also out of sheer resentment.

"I feel like if I say anything else, we won't be friends anymore," you ground out through gritted teeth. A stray current, made another push at your back and you clenched even tighter to your board for what little semblance of stability it could find.

"Okay, well I swear on our friendship that I won't make you go out any farther today. Climb on your board."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you still clambered on, lying on your stomach like a surfer would. With your body out of the water, the overwhelming apprehension subsided. The board still rocked as it floated in the gentle water and your body tensed nervously. Dresden was beside you now, a large hand on the nose of the paddle board keeping you from floating away.

“Good, now take a deep breath and close your eyes," he said. You looked at him, aghast.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promised.

"Dres, I don't know about this," you faltered. He considered your expression for a moment and instead of acquiescing, his bigger hand took yours and wrapped around it tight.

"The worst that will happen, is that you feel a little stupid.”

You looked at him once more with doubt but promptly shut your eyes, laying your forehead down on your arms. The board's unstable rocking made your stomach turn and the occasional wash of water sent shivers up your spine.

"Okay, now tell me everything you're feeling right now," came Dresden's calm voice. You gripped his hand tighter, the only source of stability you could feel.

"Scared. I'm really scared. I don’t like that everything’s moving.”

"Okay, that's okay. Tell me why."

“I-I feel like, I’m gonna get washed away. Or that I’m gonna get pulled under.” At your words, Dresden’s hand tightened in yours and you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Self-consciousness washed over you at your admission. Dresden was right, you did feel stupid. You felt stupid for your irrational fear, for coming out onto the water. You should have stayed on land where things didn’t move beneath your body and the world wouldn’t threaten to swallow you up.

How lame.

“You know it’s okay to be scared right? There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling right now.” Dresden’s voice was much closer now, his breath ghosting your ear and calming your unwelcome thoughts. Now all you could hear was the crash of the waves on the shores behind you and your heart thumping in your throat.

“Okay, now take a deep breath in. Three-two-one.” You inhaled through your nose, the rush of cold air of the dusk filling your lungs.

“Deep breath out. Four-three-two-one.” You pushed out a controlled breath, your diaphragm straining. Your heart was not not so loud but there was still a pit in your stomach.

"Now I want you to name three things you can smell."

You hesitated at his words for a moment but focused on finding any scents you can trace. With your head buried arm, you smelled the faint coconut scent of your sunscreen. In the air, a soft sharpness of pine wafted through the breeze. Finally a scent of clean, crisp water filled your senses.

"Sunscreen, Pine Trees, and Water."

"Okay, now what can you hear."

Blood was rushing through your head and your heart was still loud, but you pushed past the sounds of your anxiety to listen to the sounds of Driftwood Beach. Beneath you, water lapped against your board, causing a soft hollow knock against plexiglass to echo under you. Above, you birds called out to each other as they soared overhead, crying into the open sky.

"Water under my board and birds."

Despite the darkness behind your lids, the world around you came into clear perception through your senses. You lifted your head and opened your eyes to find Dresden watching you intensely, mossy green of his eyes darkening faintly.

The moment between you twisted like a knot tightening with every quiet second that passed.

“You’re not gonna ask me what I see?” you murmured softly. Dresden’s hazel eyes went and wide blinked, snapping out of his reverie. He let go of your hand, and for a moment, you mourned its warmth.

“No-no, I think that works,” he stuttered, a faint blush warming his sharp features. “How are you feeling?”

The sky above you both was now fiery orange set behind the darkening green of sequoias. The water around you moved with calm purpose, still but teeming with a quiet life. A faint sense of calm overtook you and you allowed your body to feel the gentle rocking of the water with the board between you.

“Better. A lot better.“

A comfortable silence settled and you sat up on your board, admiring the white moon in the sorbet sky. The idea of leaving your board still terrified you but your gorgeous surroundings were a welcome distraction and made a mental note to come back with your camera and a sketchpad.

From the shore, you heard aggravated squawks and a sudden burst of flapping wings. You and Dresden turned to see a sopping wet Teddy, galloping across the sand chasing a flock of irate seagulls.

"I better get back. If I don't feed Teddy soon, one of those seagulls might turn into dinner."

"Right, we wouldn't want that…” the merman averted his eyes, nervous to look you in the eye. “This was probably a lot for today, so I was thinking we could meet up again in a couple days? Whatever works-"

"No let's meet again tomorrow," you blurted, "This really helped a lot." Your face reddened. Your mouth had spoken before your mind had a chance to process what you were volunteering to do. Still, Dresden’s face lit up in a big grin.

"Okay, great. I'll see you tomorrow."

The two of you said your goodbyes and you made your way back to the shore. You could feel Dresden's eyes on you as you paddled towards land. It wasn't until you were standing on the solid shore did you see him wave from a distance and then disappear under the water.

You replayed the last half hour in your head. You had always known Dresden to joke and laugh at the expense of other people and you weren’t used to the care that he took with you and the warmth of his large hand in yours.

As you walked to your car, with Teddy in tow, you wondered how you never noticed that the soft curves of his boyish face turned into angles and edges.

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Despite every ounce of fear screaming at you, you spent each sunset with Dresden, wading out into the water, pushing yourself farther and farther from the shore. And like the tides, your fear ebbed and flowed. On bad days, you would be paralyzed, muscles stiffened as you lay on your paddle board. Dresden would always hold your hand, his grip firm and solid with a silent pledge to keep you safe. His voice, coaching you through the worst of your panic, would be uncharacteristically gentle.

On the better days, you two would work through the breathing exercises and then spend time reminiscing on childhood memories or talk about your respective work. You would sit on your board, mindfully allowing yourself to drift on the water, and talk about your growing frustration with your paintings and the inescapable deadline of the gallery opening. Dresden would then tell you about how his work mapping the underwater caves of Lake Obsidian was going with the local university, complaining about one particularly grumpy selkie lead researcher and the various ineptitudes of the doctoral students.

"Wait, wait so even the mer don't know how deep the lake is?"

"Nope, at some point it gets too dark to even see. Makes it dangerous. You lose your sense of direction." The thought of endless darkness and thousands of pounds of pressure on your head gave you a full-body shiver. Dresden laughed.

"Still it's not a bad gig. Helps with relations with the land folk and sometimes, you find cool stuff you can keep for yourself."

You thought about the fossilized ammonite that sat on the mantelpiece in your living room. The opalised fossil shimmered in the light when the sun beamed through your curtains, and you would stop to admire it when the stress of emails and showing dates overwhelmed you.

You tried not to think too much about how Dresden saved something that special just to give it to you.

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It was an early Sunday morning, a misty fog was just dispersing as the yellow morning sun warmed the chill in the air. You were wandering through the stalls of Talon Point's farmers market, admiring the vast variety of produce. Some you recognized: bright red and orange tomatoes, plump as a baby's cheek, broccoli and sprouts green and freshly picked, but there were also other varieties you didn't recognize, bright purple and magenta spices that sat in a pile as tall as you were and some sort of blue fruit perfectly cubed and shiny.

Even with your giant grocery tote filled to the brim with your usual fare, you still liked to wander through aisles, admiring the strange sights and shiny crafts of the local artisans. With a sudden pull, Teddy tugged you by his leash towards the specialty bakery that made treats for humans and non-humans alike. Warm smells of fresh croissants and chocolate eclairs wafted through the air and he made a dead stop just outside the door plopping his giant behind in an obedient sit, knowing better than to barge into a doorway without your express permission. You had to chuckle lightly at his polite adamance.

"Alright, but only one today. You're starting to look a little fluffy and I don't mean the fur," he seemed to harumph in protest but stood his ground. Inside the bakery, you saw a vast array of baked goods: doughnuts, croissants, tiny cakes, and even dainty cake pops. Behind the glass counter was an orc with an immense frame, balancing two gigantic trays of honey buns in both big arms.

"I'll be with you in a moment, miss," he gruffed, sidling his way through what looked like tiny walkways.

"That's okay, take your time. Just browsing." The orc let out a soft grunt in response and made his way to the back kitchen. As you made your way down the aisles, you started to realize the variety of baked goods was immense: green pandan waffles, taro puff pastries, and Mexican conchas in a variety of colors lined the trays in the glass case. Finally, you came upon some pastries in the shape of fish with ogling eyes.

"Any questions, miss?" You looked up to see that the orc had returned and was waiting patiently behind the register for you to make a decision.

"What are in these fish pastries?" you asked, shyly. He made his way over to you to check the display.

"Ah, those are taiyaki. Normally made with red bean paste inside, but this batch has Nutella." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Dresden had ever tried chocolate before.

Can merfolk even eat chocolate? you wondered, absently, already coming up with ways to make fun of him for having the hazelnut paste stuck on his teeth.

"Can I get two of those and one dog treat, please?"

You watched the gigantic orc as he packaged your pastries, large chords of muscle sliding under smooth green skin, delicately placing your order in a crisp paper bag.

Behind you, you heard a familiar voice call your name and you turned to see Willow dressed in a baby blue sundress and gigantic sunhat.

"Fancy seeing you out and about, stranger," she smiled and pulled you into a hug. Before you two could even make conversation the orc behind the counter cleared his throat and you turned sheepishly to pay for your order. Willow smiled up at the orc coquettishly, and requested an order of a dozen cheese croissants, and then proceeded to brazenly leer at his admittedly toned behind when he bent over to pick out a cardboard box.

"Thanks, Gil," she winked as you two exited the shop. The aforementioned orc rolled his eyes at Willow and gave another huff before making his way to help out another customer. Your ears warmed and you hid your face as you exited the store.

"Excuse me, I seem to recall that you have a whole-ass husband," you chided, teasing her as you made your way through the main street, passing shop displays filled with antiques and other handcrafted arts.

"I'll have you know Romero and I have a mutually agreeable 'look don't touch policy'. Like window shopping!"

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her antics. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” You chuckled softly when her lips formed a pout at your chiding.

“Maybe you ought to consider shopping around, yourself.”

“I really don’t think I need more clothes.”

“Okay, now you’re being obtuse on purpose,” Willow huffed exasperatedly and you couldn’t stop the smug smile from tugging at your lips.

“Will, I already have the exhibition breathing down my neck. I don’t really have time to entertain any gentlemen suitors,” you sighed, stretching the tell-tale tingle of anxiety out of your neck.

“Who said anything about dating though? A fun little romp does the body and mind wonders. It’s a wonder how you stay sane when you never leave the house.”

“I leave the house! I walk Teddy all the time and me and Dresden-”

You clapped your hand over your mouth before the last of your words could tumble out. But it was too late. Willow didn’t miss your words and she honed in on you like a hawk.

“You and Dresden? You two have been hanging out? How?” Willow probed, a wickedly gleeful expression on her face.

“Oh my god, Willow it’s nothing like that. He’s been…” you sighed, trying to find your words, “We’ve been doing exposure therapy out on the water. He’s been helping me after the accident.”

Willow studied your face thoughtfully and smiled like she knew something you didn’t. You grabbed her by the elbow to look her in the face.

“Willow, what?”

“Nothing! I just didn’t think he had it in him to make a move.”

You sputtered, ears warming again with embarrassment.

“He’s not trying to make a move!” you cried indignantly. Willow smiled at you like a child who still believed in Santa.

“He looks at you like you put the freaking sun in the sky. Like, he’s literally had a crush on you since we were children.”

She smiled wickedly at your stunned silence. Despite her deceptively air-headed appearance, you knew Willow to be highly perceptive. And blunt. Willow pulled you by your wrist to the nearest cafe and sat you down in a chair of a patio table. A young tiefling waiter rushed out with menus and a water bowl for Teddy and Willow ordered two iced coffees while she waited for your brain to reboot.

“I feel like I would have noticed,” you quavered, still processing this revelation.

“You’ve been hung up on Micah for years. We didn’t think it would matter.”

The young tiefling came out with your orders, setting the sweltering cups on the table before, making his way back into the cafe. You and Willow took several silent sips.

“Why are you telling me this now, Willow?” you asked, chewing on your straw.

“I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business.”

You glared at your friend and she snickered under breath, elegantly swirling her drink with a perfectly manicured hand.

“I just want you to be happy. And I don’t want to see you missing out on a good thing.”

You looked her in her icy blue eyes, earnestness shining through.

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All through the ferry ride back, all you could think about were Willow’s words. How could you have possibly missed something so huge? Your relationship had always seemed so simple and easy…

Or so you thought. Your mind wandered to all the sunsets you two spent together out on the water and the soft looks of concern he gave you on your worst days, when you couldn’t handle the anxiety.

You thought about the day of the accident, when he pulled you out of the water and held you shivering and wet, murmuring reassurances that you were safe. And then you thought about how angry he got at Micah, his oldest friend.

“Why else would he have gone ballistic like that?”

Willow’s words echoed in the back of your mind as you unlocked your door and made your way into the kitchen to put away your groceries. As you put away the produce you’d found the white paper pastry bag holding the Nutella taiyaki you had bought for Dresden and you eyed the crumpled paper bag cautiously.

Dresden would probably laugh when he saw the funny looking pastry. Maybe his dimples would show and the coppery fins that framed his face would twitch as he tried it.

Your thoughts halted to a stop. Why were you daydreaming about your friend? Instead of letting your thoughts whir along, you decided to do what you did when you couldn’t feel at home in your own head: you painted.

You padded to the art studio and rifled through your things for an empty canvas and acrylic paints. Instead of your usual set-up with an easel and a stool, you set the 18x24 on the ground and squirted paint onto a plastic palette. You started with a soft sand color, not unlike the sands of Driftwood Beach at sunset, and let your arm guide itself across the blank canvas. Lately, you rarely ever let yourself waste paint and a canvas without a plan, but right now you didn’t feel like thinking anything through.

You added purple shadows, painting in subtle planes of an angular face, detailing in soft cheekbones and an elegant jawline. Blues showed soft shadows cast by dark curly brown hair and a proud nose, while reds added depth and dimension to a clever face. For a playful arch of dark brows, you added grayish black to brown and touched up the curve of a playful smirk with pink an white.

When you started work on the eyes, your mind wandered to strong hands gripping tightly at your hips and back, keeping you from getting swept away. You remembered how warm hazels watched you, dark with concern and then intense with yearning.

A pleasant shiver ran down your spine at the memory. His inner irises were a rusty brown that glittered when he laughed and outer irises flashed a brilliant coppery green when serious.

You painted his facial fins to match with eyes, a uniquely striking coloring.

By the time you finished the piece hours had passed and the sun was lowering in the sky and you cursed to yourself before changing quickly and rushing out the door.

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You made your way out into the lake, this time paddling out on your knees, carefully balancing the bag of pastries on the tail of your board. It had been a few weeks and you weren’t scared to navigate your way farther and farther from shore anymore. Still, fear overtook you whenever you tried to swim out so you settled for adventuring through the water safely on your board. As you waited for Dresden, you straddled your board, letting your feet kick gently in the water, an accomplishment won once Dresden convinced you that plesiosaurs didn’t survive past the Cretaceous Period and wouldn’t try to take a bite out of your calf.

You watched as idly as the soft clouds rolled through the pink sky, noticing how the breeze shook the tips of gigantic redwoods. The final days of summer were flying by and soon Autumn would be upon Lake Obsidian. As you mused quietly about another year passed in this bustling little town, you saw a flash of a shimmering tale and a hand ghost up your ankle and calf. A surprised yip escaped your mouth as you flinched. Dresden popped up on the other side of your board shaking water out of drenched curls.

“Jesus Christ, Dresden, give me a heart attack why don’t you?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You didn’t faint. I’d take that as a win.”

The merman smiled up at you with a big lopsided grin and you couldn’t help but notice the soft divot of dimples in his cheek. You looked away before you could get flustered, remembering your earlier conversation with Willow.

“I was in town earlier today and I saw something you might like.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the merman lit up and your ears warmed at his adorable expression. You reached behind you to grab the white pastry bag and reached in to hand your friend the little fish pastry, “It has chocolate in it though. I wasn’t sure if mer can even eat hazelnut spread.”

He hung onto your board while he observed the fish-shaped confection, turning it every which way before taking an eager bite.

“It’s wonderful,” he moaned, mouth full. You giggled as you ate yours, enjoying the crisp outside and gooey inside. You two munched in comfortable silence and you folded up the white paper bag and tucked it into the shoulder strap of your bikini under your rash guard to throw away when you got home.

“You humans are creative, I’ll give you that. Bring me more of those. I’ll consider it compensation for my services,” licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips.

“Excuse me?! This was your idea!” you cried, indignantly.

���And yet, you reap the benefits and get to enjoy the pleasure of my company,” he smiled up at you cheekily. Like you predicted, chocolate had dripped down onto his chin and you let out a soft snort.

“Pleasurable company with questionable table manners. Dres, you have something here,” you pointed on your own face where his face was dirtied and Dreden swiped on the wrong side of his own. You let out a little giggle at his confused expression.

“No, other side,” you tried again, laughing even harder when he wiped his arm across his jaw and made an even bigger mess. Dresden pouted but smiled nonetheless at your laughter.

“Why don’t you come down from there and help me,” he teased, splashing some water up at you making you shriek indignantly.

“Catch me then!” Before you realized what you were doing, you swung a leg over your board and pushed yourself off, awkwardly hopping into Dresden’s surprised arms with a big splash. Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders as you got used to the chill of the water, and you enjoyed the way his arms instinctually wrapped around your waist and under your ass to keep you from sinking in the still waters. Your legs wrapped around his waist, steadying you in the gentle current.

“Good catch,” you joked teasingly, although you felt your heart rabbit in your chest a mile a minute. Still, you couldn’t help but grin at the dazed expression on Dresden’s handsome face, eyes wide in confusion and mouth agape. You reached up to his face with a wet hand and wiped at the chocolate staining his chin until it was clean.

“Thanks,” he murmured softly. You looked up to see his hazel gaze locked on yours, waiting in anticipation for your next move. Your fingers moved on their own, tracing the sinewy muscles under the smooth, tanned skin of his shoulders and you found them making their way up to a strong neck where they traced the delicate slits of flattened gills. At your soft touch, the merman let out a low moan that sent molten heat straight between your legs. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against a hard torso in an iron brace. You gasped softly, a whimper threatening to escape your throat.

Dresden dropped his head onto your shoulder and let out a deep shuddering breath. With strong, wide hands gripping your hips, he gently hoisted you back on your paddle board and pushed you to arms distance.

Embarrassment and self-consciousness crashed down around you, shocking you out of your haze.

Was Willow wrong? Did you make a mistake? He doesn’t actually want you like that.

“Oh god, Dresden, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” you tried, but the merman was already shaking his head, a warm flush flooding his face.

“We should take a break for a couple days,” he ground out firmly. Your heart dropped to your stomach at his words.

“O-okay… Dresden, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you around,” he blurted, before diving under the water and swiftly swimming away.

You didn’t remember paddling back to shore or making your way back to your car. All you felt was the sting of rejection and the burn of tears as they filled your eyes.

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Thank you for your support!（˶′◡‵˶）

[saphira-approves]

Don’t Compare My Boy To K*l* R*n: In This Essay I Will—

okAY I’m talking about it

So I can’t find the post right now, but a few days ago I saw a post on my dash comparing Murtagh of the Inheritance Cycle to Kylo Ren of Star Wars, citing parallels for their similarities.

Since we all know this blog is really just a poorly-disguised Murtagh stan blog, I decided I’d share my thoughts on this comparison. I’ll be discussing character backgrounds, character roles, character motives, and character actions.

Part One: Character Backgrounds

Murtagh and Kylo Ren are both descendants of the “previous generation.” Their mothers were both prominent rebels, their fathers were both considered handsome and rogueish, and both sets of parents eventually separated. But that’s about where the similarities end.

Kylo Ren’s—or rather, Ben Solo’s—parents loved each other and loved their son. They may have been flawed in the way they showed it, but then again, the only account we hear of Ben’s childhood (as I recall, anyway, and I’m not rewatching those movies just for a tumblr post) is Ben’s, after he’d been groomed and manipulated by Snoke for many, many years. Han Solo died believing he was helping his son; Leia Organa died saving her son; at the very least, they both loved him enough, even while he was serving the Dark Side, to give up their lives for him. 

Murtagh’s parents, on the other hand, were a mess. From Murtagh’s account of their relationship, Morzan didn’t care much about Selena except for her usefulness as a weapon; he was happy to manipulate her and her emotions, but I highly doubt he actually loved her. He certainly didn’t give a damn about Murtagh, throwing a sword at his own three-year-old son. Selena, meanwhile, although she obviously loved Morzan at first, loved Murtagh even more, and clearly recognized that Morzan didn’t care for her the way she had once cared for him—when she recognized an opportunity to work against him, she took it. 

Kylo Ren despised both of his parents, but that hatred seemed hollow, shallow—it had no real reason. They led busy lives, perhaps didn’t make enough time for him, but their actions revealed that they did, truly, love him despite his mistakes, and Kylo’s loathing reveals itself to truly be the manifestation of a spoiled child’s anger, magnified tenfold. Murtagh, conversely, had very good reasons for his complicated view of his parents: he loved his mother, but she was kept from him (and him from her), and she died—possibly in front of him, though he never says, and, unbeknownst to him until much later, having just hidden his brother in Carvahall. There was no love lost between him and Morzan, who was in the best case just an angry drunk, worst case—and more likely—an abusive father, and the only thing Murtagh ever expected to receive from him as inheritance was his sword (which is by itself another whole post in the making). 

Part Two: Character Roles

Both Murtagh and Kylo Ren played the role of foil to the protagonists of their stories. 

Murtagh and Eragon were very similar in many ways; I’ve mentioned before the many “subtle” hints Paolini gives to their true relationship (”a pair of matched blades” and “brothers in arms” come to mind off the top of my head). Their differences clearly highlight their different upbringings: Eragon thinks in the moment, with his heart and his compassion, while Murtagh thinks ahead, makes plans and contingencies—this difference is most clearly seen when Murtagh kills Torkenbrand and Eragon's strong moral code makes him protest, even though killing the slaver was, objectively, the best course of action they could take. Yet Murtagh is not only Eragon’s foil in action, but also his foil symbolically: they are both sons of Selena, which binds them, and yet the sons of opposing fathers, which others unwittingly use to pit them against each other (yes, this is also a whole other post in the making. like i said, poorly-disguised murtagh stan blog). Murtagh’s foilness to Eragon is deeply interwoven into their friendship and their parallels, showing up in many subtle and unsubtle moments throughout the series.

Kylo Ren’s foil status, on the other hand, is… complicated in a different way. For one thing, he’s not just a foil to Rey, he’s also a foil to Finn—in fact, I’d argue he’s more foil to Finn, and more just a complete opposite to Rey. He’s the experience to Rey’s raw talent, he shifts toward the Light while Rey shifts toward the Dark, but with Finn, their stories of pulling away from the Empire could have been fantastic foil stories. Wasted opportunity. And I’m so mad about it but this isn’t a star wars blog so—

Part Three: Character Motives

Of course, both Murtagh and Kylo Ren��s motives change over the course of their own stories, so we’ll be looking at what they are and how they change.

Kylo Ren starts his story in TFA as a ruthless, power-hungry fanboy who cherry-picked his history lessons and simply ignored the fact that his oh-so-esteemed Darth Grandvader was actually redeemed in the end because Luke refused to give up on whatever scrap of good was left in him and I hate hate hate hate hate Luke’s sequel characterization UGH and so Kylo is “emulating” a false image of what he thinks Vader was: the power, the presence, the mask and modulator aesthetic, the “I’m on the Dark Side because it’s fun, and I get to do whatever I want consequence-free.” Which… no! So, at first, what does Kylo want? Power! Sure, he’s serving Palpatine’s Smeagol puppet Snoke, but eventually he’s gonna be the most powerful person in the galaxy. …well, but then eventually starts getting a little boring, so in TLJ Kylo ups his timetable, tries to get Rey on his side after torturing her for information (OF HIS OWN VOLITION! BECAUSE HE’S A JERK! He did not CARE about even trying to convince her at first, he asked the few questions necessary to justify meeting her resistance with a Force mind-rape), and then when she doesn’t join him on the Dark Side he fights her, again and again and again until he nearly DIES, and then HIS MOTHER DIES TO SAVE HIS UNGRATEFUL ASS, so now Kylo’s priorities switch from “power” to… uh… what, again? Redemption? By… how? Sacrificing his life for Rey?

Oh, now he remembers how his Darth Grandvader history lesson ended.

he’s still a copycat though

Murtagh’s motives, conversely, actually make sense for his situation. When we meet him, he has in the last few months run away from Urû’baen and lost his mentor and father-figure. His two priorities: keep himself and his horse alive, and see what the deal is with the new Dragon Rider he’s heard so much about. He meets Eragon and Saphira by saving their lives from the Ra’zac, and he’s there when Brom dies, and Eragon loses his own mentor. Having just recently gone through that pain himself, Murtagh gets attached, and joins Eragon on his adventure/vengeance quest against the Ra’zac. Murtagh doesn’t reveal his parentage, but he and Eragon find that they have a lot of similarities and get very close, sparring and bantering and becoming “a set of matched blades” and “brothers-in-arms” and other such friendly roles that are not-so-subtle hints at their true relationship, and even when they fight—notably when Murtagh doesn’t want to go to the Varden, because they might kill him, which would be actively violating his first priority of staying alive—Murtagh still agrees to help Eragon because he’s a nice f*cking person okay. And then, through shenanigans, Murtagh ends up getting kidnapped, assumed dead by his few new friends, and then 

TORTURED AND MIND-RAPED FOR AT LEAST THREE OR FOUR MONTHS.

And Murtagh’s will never broke! Not until Galbatorix gave him a dragon egg, and that dragon egg hatched into Thorn, and Thorn bonded with Murtagh, and Galbatorix threatened Thorn.

Murtagh fought Galbatorix until Thorn’s well-being was put into danger. 

After that, Murtagh’s priorities are skewed; he’s forcibly sworn to Galbatorix’s will, which sucks, but he’s also given fantastic power, which is great; but he and Thorn still get tortured as punishment for messing up, which also sucks. And then Nasuada, someone Murtagh actually likes, is captured and brought to Urû’baen, and Murtagh tries to hide his face behind the silver mask when Galbatorix forces him to torture Nasuada (physically, because Galbatorix never forces Murtagh to attack Nasuada’s mind) because he doesn’t want to torture his friend. In fact, he does everything in his ability to help her. And in the end, he cares about her so much that he realizes hang on a minute, I would actually put SOMEONE ELSE’S health and well-being over my own, which means something in me has fundamentally changed, WHICH MEANS I CAN DEFY GALBATORIX, and so what does he do? He gets rid of Galbatorix’s wards and lets Eragon finish him off. He gives up the Eldunarí to Eragon and Saphira, which were a huge source of his power, because in the end, he’s not a power-hungry maniac, he’s a nice person that shitty things happened to.

(And if Murtagh is a nice person that shitty things happened to, then Kylo Ren is a shitty person that nice things happened to)

Part Four: Character Actions

If you don’t believe me, then perhaps we’ll let actions speak louder than words.

Kylo Ren: In his first appearance, he orders his troops to kill an entire settlement. From there, he tortures Poe for information, obsessively pursues the protagonists who have the key to Luke’s location, becomes obsessed with Rey, who seems Force-sensitive, attempts to torture Rey the same way he tortured Poe, kills his own father even as his father apologizes and tries to help him, chases Finn and Rey (again) into a snowstorm on a planet that’s imploding in on itself because of a lightsaber; and then he’s chasing the Resistance—including his own mother—across the galaxy, killing Snoke and calling himself Supreme Leader (yeah, totally something a secret good guy would do), cornering the Resistance on Crait with the threat of DEATH. STAR. TECH. (miniaturized, but like. what’s the miniature of a planet-killer???? half a planet killer??????), and then ALLYING HIMSELF with PALPATINE (the stupid crusty meatsack didn’t even have to groom this one, he got a new apprentice for FREE), while also PLANNING TO DOUBLECROSS… PALPATINE… and continuing to chase Rey across the galaxy, trying to get her to join the Dark Side, and he only stops when his mother gives up her life to save his. 

His mother… who, just recently, he THREATENED WITH DEATH STAR TECH. 

All this to say, his “redemption” arc is hollow and stupid. Dying while doing “good” is not redemption, it’s a cop-out. Vader was ruthless not because he took pleasure from killing, but because it was efficient; he was redeemed because he found out he had been lied to, manipulated, used, and abused. Kylo Ren was fully aware of his situation, an abuser himself who took pleasure in his power and in killing people; and he was not redeemed by a kumbayah force-life-transfer BS or for turning on Palpatine, WHICH HE WAS PLANNING TO DO ANYWAY. 

Murtagh: Helps Eragon, helps Eragon even when he could get captured or tortured or killed, helps Eragon even though he’s surrounded by people who would suffer no regret over killing him, helps Eragon even though he will get tortured for it later, helps Nasuada because he doesn’t want to torture his friend (let me repeat, he DOESN’T. WANT. to TORTURE. his FRIEND. And he even ends up sneaking into her cell, AT RISK OF PUNISHMENT WHICH WOULD INVOLVE TORTURE, to talk to her and heal at least some of her wounds, and give her a way to tell reality from illusion when Galbatorix does try to force his way into her head), helps Eragon kill Galbatorix in the final battle, helps a little girl he’s only just met and gives her an enchanted fork, because why not, and only waits to rejoin Eragon and Saphira because he recognizes his own need to heal, to take time for himself and Thorn, and later, if FWW is anything to go by, probably to redeem himself by helping people, and fighting whatever threat he’s hearing rumors about in the north. Murtagh doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people, and he goes out of his way to do good things, even at risk to himself, as much as he’d hate to admit it.

Murtagh is hardly perfect; on the one hand, I fully agree with his decision to kill Torkenbrand because what else were you gonna do with him, Eragon, but on the other, yes, he’s flawed. Notably, there’s the moment of him killing Hrothgar, which I’ve discussed, his anger issues, his potential alcohol issues, and his general tendency to put himself first (which… yes, but also, he really doesn’t). Best thing about this, though, his his enormous potential for change, because we’ve already seen him change! And it saved the whole war! One tiny thing, one small moment of self reflection and realization—he changed himself, without any outside influence except for finding someone to care about. 

TL;DR Don’t insult my boy Murtagh. Come back when Kylo Ren gets some actual character development.

[merakiaes]

A Choice - John Shelby

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: #4 from the angst-list. 

Warnings/notes: Angsty! This is a combination of this request and another I got for the prompt #4 a few weeks ago but can’t find for some reason😅 This is the first part in the two-part series. Link to the second part below!

Wordcount: 2884

Summary: You get fed up with having to worry for John’s safety and life every day and give him a choice; you, or the Peaky Blinders. 

Part Two - A Second Chance

You had first met John Shelby when you were both eighteen, a year before the war struck. You had been a nurse in training at the time, walking home from work one dark September afternoon when you had found yourself thrown into a brawl on the street, right outside your house.

It was your brother, older than you by five years, who had managed to piss off the Shelby boys and started a fight, and as the more mature sibling, you had been the one who was forced to step in and interfere.

Seeing as your street was a good fifteen-minute walk away from Watery Lane, you invited all three of the Shelby boys inside despite your brother’s strong and rather loud protests, sending your brother’s friends home to their own homes.

Once inside, you had cleaned them all up, apologized on behalf of your brother who had turned out to have made a nasty comment about their father, and stuck together with them from then on forward. More specifically, you stuck by John.

Being the same age, the two of you instantly clicked, and as John had been the first one out of the three of them to fall victim to your brother’s scrawny fists, he had jumped at the opportunity to get under his skin by flirting with you right under his nose.

Already then, he had been a cheeky boy.

And that ever changed.

From that day forward, the two of you started seeing each other every day, and you quickly built up a relationship that was far too complicated to call a simple friendship.

You loved each other already from early at the start, but when the war struck and John finally gathered the courage to ask for your hand in marriage, you couldn’t say yes. It wasn’t the right time.

You couldn’t accept his proposal when he was just about to be shipped off to fight for his country and put his life on the risk. 

You knew it probably wouldn’t have made any difference in you had agreed, seeing as you already loved him, but for some reason, you felt it would be harder to get over him, if he were to get killed if you were engaged.

So you turned him down, with the promise that you would happily take his name and give him your all when he returned, giving him something worth fighting for.

You saw him, his brothers, Freddie, Danny, Jeremiah and your own brother off at the train station that would be taking them out of Birmingham, alongside Polly, Ada and little Finn.

By the time this day rolled around, your brother had made his peace with the Shelby brothers, even though you were still to this day not entirely sure what it was they had been fighting about in the first place. 

You hugged each and every on of them goodbye, including Freddie, Danny and Jeremiah despite not knowing them half as well as you knew the Shelbys.

It didn’t matter to you, you still wanted all of them to come back alive. You prayed for it every single night before going to bed, and several times throughout the day.

But your prayers only worked so well, bringing you back John, his brothers, Freddie, Danny and Jeremiah, but not your brother. He had been ambushed in one of the tunnels and died by a bullet to the head.

With both your parents having died when you were still very young, your brother had been the one to raise you despite you being the one taking care of him the later years of his life, and he had been your only remaining family.

It ruined you to hear of the news of his death. You didn’t eat or sleep for weeks. All you did was cry, scream, and cry some more.

But John and the others stayed by your side through it all, and once you had gotten through the first three months of grieving, you started feeling great comfort in being around the Small Heath Rifles. After all, your brother had been one of them, and in a way, you felt his presence whenever you were close to them.

They had seen the same horrors, felt the same pain as your brother. And although you hated seeing them so broken, it made you feel more at ease to know that your brother hadn’t been out there on his own.

True to your word, you finally accepted John’s proposal once the worst of the storm had blown over, and you got married five months after their return from the war. 

Despite still mourning your brother’s gruesome death, you were happier than you had ever been, seeing a chance to a fresh start when looking into the eyes of the man you loved.

But upon his return home, you quickly realized your marriage was no different from what it would have been if you got married before he left.

The very danger he had been heading into at the time remained, and the anxiety of seeing him dead that you had been trying to avoid by declining his offer at the start was stronger now than you ever could have imagined.

You thought you would be living a normal life once he got back. That you would start a family, move to a nice house somewhere in the countryside, maybe keep a small farm, and keep the racing business legitimate.

But the business him and his brothers turned to once they had gotten situated back in Small Heath was everything but legal. Every day, you sat at home, waiting with panic buried deep in the pit of your stomach that John wouldn’t return home.

He lived a dangerous life with the Peaky Blinders, and as he did so, so did you.

You had put up with it for this long, for the unwavering love you felt for him stopped you from even considering living without him. But the instability of your life together, the never-ending cycle of not knowing what was happening when you were apart was eating away at you from the inside out. And you couldn’t take it anymore

“I want a divorce.”

It was like time and place just completely came to a stop as the sudden and unexpected words fell from your lips.

You were seated on the sofa in John’s office, while he worked his way through a thick stack of paperwork behind his desk just a small distance away from you.

As your words fled into the air, the scratching of his pen against the paper suddenly stopped, and you could feel your entire body freezing with dread as you waited for his response, your eyes not once wavering from the fire crackling away in the fireplace in front of you and the

“What?”

His voice was hard, most likely just as hard as the look he was probably giving you at that very moment.

But you refused to look at him, only swallowing as he questioned again. “What did you say?”

You twirled the wedding ring around your finger furiously, bouncing your leg slightly and biting down on the insides of your cheeks to keep the tears back.

“I want a divorce, John.” You repeated, your voice barely even audibly, thick with unfallen tears.

“Are you-“ John cut himself short, struggling to find the right words. He stood up from his chair abruptly, the paperwork now long forgotten. “You want a divorce?”

You swallowed, nodding your head and feeling your lip tremble. “I do.” You whispered in confirmation, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as he walked around his desk and approached the sofa you were sat on.

He stopped by your side, keeping some distance between the two of you. He was silent for a long moment, the air thick with a flurry of emotions radiating off of the two of you.

“Well that’s just too fookin’ bad then, innit?” He questioned finally, now fully having processed your unexpected request and the shock having turned into anger. “Because you’re not getting one.”

The grip you held on your own fingers tightened, and the first tear finally escaped your eyes to roll down your cheek.

“Once you marry a Shelby, you stay fookin’ married!”

You jumped in your seat as he suddenly yelled out, his foot shooting out to violently kick the side of the very sofa you were sitting in.

You whipped your head around to face him at that, standing up. “You would force me to stay married to you even if it killed me every day?” You asked, seething and looking at him through narrowed eyes, not even caring that you were fully crying at this point.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, throwing his arms out. “Do you want a bigger house? I’ll buy you the biggest house in all of fookin’ Birmingham!”

“I don’t want a house!” You quickly shot him down, raising your voice. “I’m perfectly content with what I have now!”

“Then what’s the fookin’ problem?!” He yelled, to which you let out the painful sob you had been holding in for the entirety of the evening.

“The problem is that I don’t have you.”

His demeanor seemed to falter ever so slightly, his face softening. But the fire was still burning strong behind his blue eyes as he walked closer to you, looking at you with questioning eyes. 

“What are you on about?” He asked. “You’ve always had me.”

Your eyes instinctively fluttered closed at the feeling of his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the touch only causing you to cry even more.

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You denied, your voice cracking with the tears. 

You opened your eyes, looking up into his. “Every day I have to sit alone at home and wonder whether you’re going to come back to me alive or dead on a stretcher. I’m losing my grip on you. I can feel you slipping further and further into Death’s arms for every passing day and I can’t take it.”

John watched you closely as you spoke, his lips pursed and his jaw tense, but his thumb still wiping away at the hot tears rolling down your face.

“I can’t fucking take it, John.” You admitted, crying. “It’s me or them. Me or your Peaky fucking Blinders.”

John had never in a million years expected you to want to divorce him in the first place, but when that sentence passed your lips, he was more taken aback than he had ever been before.

His face turned down with disbelief and his hand suddenly fell from your face as he took a step back. “They’re my family.” He said, and you crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself for some comfort.

“I’m your family, too.” You cried quietly, but he only shook his head.

“That’s not fair. You can’t do that to me. It’s not fair.”

“Perhaps not.” You agreed. “But it’s a choice I feel like I’m forced to give you.”

He said nothing, so you continued. 

“I want to have a family, John.” You said, chuckling tearily. “I want to settle down and have a family of my own. Kids. And I want it all with you. But I would never forgive myself if I brought a fatherless child into this world. I want to give my child a better life than the ones that we’ve had. With the love and support of both parents.”

John shook his head, his breathing now having gotten significantly heavier and his eyes glossier by the tears that were starting to sneak up on him. 

“It wouldn’t be fatherless, though, would it?” He argued. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to decide whether or not you stay when you get injured and can’t be saved.” You pointed out, and unwrapped your arms from around your body, walking forward and raising your hands to bring his face closer to yours.

“Leave with me.” You begged, searching his eyes and pressing your forehead to his. “Leave for me. For me and our future family. You’re bright, John. You’re so smart, so kind, and you have so much potential. You know you were meant for a life much bigger than the Peaky Blinders. This is not your destiny.”

He looked down at you with hard eyes, tears now pooling at the corners of his eyes. He sniffled, trembling slightly under your touch, indicating just how hard he was trying to keep his calm when he was really panicking on the inside.

For a moment, you held hopes that he was going to agree, tell you to go pack your bags, that he would take you away from Small Heath, gang wars and the violence and death that came with it.

But then he shook his head, and your face instantly fell.

“Fuck destiny.” He swore, tearing his head out of your grasp and taking a step back again. “Family is the only thing that matters.”

“Then what am I?” You snapped, a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes. “Because it certainly does not seem like I fit into that category.”

“You’re my wife. That’s what you are.” He answered, pointing a finger at you and glaring with all his might. “You’re supposed to clean the house, cook and keep your mouth shut. What I do by means of business is none of your concern, and you know what Tommy thinks about you putting your nose where it don’t belong. Why can’t you just be happy? My duty as your husband is to provide for you and that’s exactly what I’m doing. How the food ends up on the table shouldn’t matter so long as we don’t starve.”

This entire conversation and situation had been unpleasant from start to present, but you could swear you felt your heart break into a million tiny, prickly pieces behind your chest at his words. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

Sure, you hadn’t known each other for more than a few years and you had barely been married for two, but you really thought your loved would have matter more to him than he was letting on at that moment.

“Is that seriously what you think?” You asked, your sorrow  slowly turning more and more into fury.

“Of course it fucking matters!” You yelled. “The life we build together won’t matter at the end of the day if you run off and get yourself killed!”

“I won’t get killed!” He argued.

“You can’t promise that!”

The entire room seemed to shake under the loud volume of your voice, and it seemed to take John by surprise as he calmed down after that, simply shaking his head slowly and continuing in a much quieter voice.

“You can’t keep this up forever.” He said, without a doubt referring to the countless other times you had brought up that you didn’t feel comfortable with the life he led. “People are starting to talk. Saying I don’t know how to handle my woman.”

This time, his words actually brought a scoff out of your lips. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Is that so?” You challenged, glaring at him fiercely. “Well, you’ll be glad to know that your woman is sick of getting handled and no longer wishes to be yours.”

You tore your eyes away from his and looked down at your hand, starting to twist the ring off of your finger.

John instantly took note of this and rushed over to you, taking your hand in his and stopping you from completely removing the small piece of jewelry. “Come on, (Y/N). What are you doing?”

Although it pained you greatly to do so, you ripped your hand out of his warm grasp, wasting no time in going back to tug at the ring. 

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear by now that I’m not staying.” You deadpanned, keeping your attention on the ring to avoid looking at his expression as you did so.

Because if you did, you knew you would just break down completely.

“If you love me like you claim you do, you cut this shit out right now.” He told you, his voice low and threatening.

It broke your heart to hear him utter those words in that tone, but it broke you even more as you finally got the ring off and looked back up to meet his teary eyes.

You had to strain your entire body in order to stay strong, glaring into his eyes as you answered. “If you loved me like you claim to do, you wouldn’t have forced me to stay in a life I don’t feel safe and happy with. You would’ve left with me.”

And with that, you pushed the ring into his hands and turned around, leaving the room. 

He didn’t make any move to follow you, and in that final moment, it was his choice not to do so that made you realize your choice had been the right one. 

[itsunclebucky]

From Out of Nowhere [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Bucky helps you move into your new apartment and stays a couple of nights, realizing you love his company more than you thought. Prompt: Friends to lovers AU for @simsadventures​ 1k writing challenge! Thank you, my love, for having me back!!!

Warning(s): Slow Burn, fluff, mutual pining, implied smut near the end (with spooning but nothing really explicit)

Word Count: 2,386

A/N: I just want to apologize for any grammar mistakes! English isn't my first language and I did use a thesaurus but I still might have used words incorrectly and I'm sorry about that! I was also watching the witcher as I wrote this :) feedback is greatly appreciated! Please don't repost my work to any other site (Wattpad, ao3, etc) without permission, reblogs are greatly appreciated though! I'm also really sorry for the slow burn but I wanted to include everything and not rush it.

Masterlist

Your ringtone resounded out into the empty room as you finished taping up the last box of your possessions and piling it on top of the others. You walked over to the windowsill where your phone was perched and smiled down at the name of the person calling you.

"Hey, Buck!" Your voice echoed around the once loved - now hollow bedroom.

"Hey Y/N! I'm outside and I'll be up in a sec." It was early morning and by the sound of his hoarse voice, Bucky had not long woken up.

"Great! Thanks for this Buck!" You sigh as you end the call, looking out into the city for the last time. You would miss this cozy apartment, it's been your home for the past six years but now the time has come for a brand new fresh start, a new chapter in your life. You could no longer afford the apartment since your landlord raised your rent considerably higher and your wages wouldn't even cover half of the rent let alone any bills that needed to be paid, it was the most expensive part of Brooklyn. And Bucky notified you that his elderly landlady was looking for a new tenant to occupy an apartment three floors above his apartment for a fraction of the rent your landlord wanted, she was more flexible and helpful, and besides being closer to your best friend, it was also closer to your work and in a much safer neighborhood.

And Bucky had insisted to come and help you move your things out, and you couldn't be any more appreciative because some of your furniture was really heavy and you felt bad for overloading some boxes which threatened to break your bones in your back and arms if you carried them far enough.

"Y/N?" Bucky's deep voice calls out as he enters the apartment. It's bittersweet for him too, he used to love coming here and having your weekly movie nights on the L-shaped corner couch with your fuzzy cream blankets. But he is more happy to have you living in the same apartment building as him, it's easier for him to protect you, not that you needed protection, Bucky knew you were independent and capable of dealing with things on your own but he wanted to keep you close, you were one of his best friends and he's never had someone as close to him besides Steve before.

"In here!" You haul the box out into the front room and smile when you see Bucky in his blue Henley, dark jeans and a pair of sneakers (you never thought you would see the day he would wear something different than his usual combat boots), his hair was cut shorter and he looked so clean and perfect. You were used to Bucky with long hair, but since he cut it a couple of months ago, you kept telling him how much you loved him with shorter hair, telling him "it really suits you, Buck!" And he has taken your compliment personally because he's kept up with his short hair.

"Doll?" Your eyes fly up to his face, he was smirking and raised an eyebrow at you and you blush, you didn't realize you were staring at him.

"Huh?" You clear your throat and awkwardly look around the room.

"I asked if you wanted me to start moving your stuff out? The truck is downstairs."

"Yea-yes. That would be great." You smile, nodding your head for no particular reason as you find yourself getting lost in his bright blue eyes. ☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•° It only took you a couple of hours to move everything from the truck into your new apartment and by the time 6pm arrived, half of the boxes were already unpacked and your ornaments were placed out neatly around your new living room, your L-shaped couch positioned with your familiar rug in the middle of the room, it was already starting to feel and look like home. And while you were busy hanging your curtains, Bucky had gone out to grab some food for the two of you, deciding to take the rest of the evening off packing and just sit and watch a movie to relax before bed.

"Honey, I'm home!" Bucky chuckled walking through the door. You finished the gather of your curtains and smiled.

"Great!" You sighed as you welcomed the comfy cushions of your couch behind you as you plopped down with a bounce, crisscrossing your aching legs under you as Bucky plated the food.

"Chicken for you." He said holding the plate of chicken noodles in front of you and a soda.

"Thanks, Buck! For everything." You smiled at him as he sat down beside you, digging into his own noodles, he nodded in return and flicked the TV on, playing the DVD you left in from a few nights ago.

You and Bucky ate in silence, occasionally laughing at the TV. Over the years you have had so many movie nights with Bucky, and you weren't sure if it was because of the new apartment, but you didn't want Bucky to leave, you didn't want to be alone. Sitting next to Bucky right now felt so right in so many different ways. But Bucky was your best friend, and you felt conflicted about your feelings. You were also sure he saw you as nothing more than a friend. Your thoughts were all over the place and you nibbled on your bottom lip.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Bucky, who was watching you from his peripheral. He knew whenever you bit your lip it was because of anxiety or panic attacks. For now, he stayed quiet, allowing you to gather your thoughts. ☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•° Bucky stayed with you until the end of the movie. You had somehow managed to push your weird thoughts to the back of your mind and enjoy his company.

He stretched and yawned, looking at his watch.

"Wow, it's almost midnight. I better be goin'" he says tiredly, getting up to leave.

"Thank you for everything today Buck." You stand up with him and pull him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest and fisting his shirt around his back.

Bucky chuckles and his chest vibrates against your face as he holds you.

"You already thanked me doll. Got nothin' to thank me for, s'what friends are for." He rubs your back comfortingly and tries to pull away, you only hold him tighter.

"Please stay." You whisper, refusing to loosen your grip on his shirt.

"Doll, let me look at ya." He pushes your body away slightly and his heart sinks down to his stomach as he looks at the stray tears racing each other down your cheeks. "What's wrong?" He asks, concern laced in his voice. It was rare for you to show Bucky this side of you.

"I just-" you sigh and take a breath. "I feel so selfish but I don't want you to go... I don't want to be alone here." Your bottom lip trembles uncontrollably and Bucky nods, pulling you impossibly close to him.

"Ok doll, shh shh it's okay. I'm not goin' anywhere. I'll stay for a couple o' days ok?" He holds your chin between his fingers and you nod happily.

And now that you knew Bucky was staying, you felt so much better. You were used to living alone so why this was any different you didn't understand.

Was it because you started to feel something in the pit of your stomach for your best friend? You have never felt this way before, even when you were around when Bucky was in relationships with other girls, you didn't feel jealous. But now just the thought of it sent a pang of pain to your chest. When did this happen?

For Bucky, it was a different story.

Bucky has been in love with you for a long time, he has just kept his feelings buried because of your friendship at stake. If things didn't go his way and you didn't feel the same way, he could handle the rejection but losing you was not worth it in his eyes.

Instead, he stood by as you tried to go on dates, most failed and some guys acted like complete jerks towards you which he strongly disliked but could do nothing about when he really wanted to dislodge their testicles.

And he knew staying with you would be difficult, because with you he always felt at home, it felt so natural. But seeing you so upset he didn't want to leave you. He wouldn't leave you. His ma taught him manners and he was a better man than most these days.

He hated how sexist the men had become. Even now he knows women deserve just as much respect and attention as they did when he was an 18-year-old taking his dames out on dates every weekend. And mention dick pics to Bucky? He was disgusted. And it has never interested him, even if one of his recent ex-girlfriends tried to push him to send her a sexy photo of himself, he declined as kindly as he could.

After brushing your teeth, you go back to your bedroom and stop in your tracks. Bucky is wearing a black T-shirt and his boxers as he pulls the covers back. He notices your reaction and panics.

"Is this ok?" He asks timidly.

You grin and walk over to the free side of the bed. "Of course it is." You reply, stripping down to your tank top and shorts, climbing under the duvet the same time as Bucky.

You roll on your side and face him, making the outline of his features in the darkness you're shrouded in.

"You ok doll?" Bucky asks quietly, stretching an arm out and moving some hair from your face and you shiver from his soft touch.

"I am." You whisper back, reaching out to touch his prickled cheek. Drawing patterns and you feel his cheeks lift in a smile, his dimples under your fingertips. You move your hand down above his heart, his heartbeat lulls you into a deep sleep.

The sun beaming through the partly opened curtains wakes you up and you feel totally refreshed. The best night's sleep you have had in a long, long time. It takes you a few seconds to remember where you are and why there is heavy breathing behind you.

You're facing away from Bucky, and he has his arm wrapped around your belly with your back pressed into his chest, his face buried in your hair, and something digging into your backside and you realize he's spooning you, quite intimately. It only makes your heart beat faster, now this is something you could get used to.

You shift your butt slightly, grinding your backside into his wood and a loud groan erupts from behind you. It encourages you to do it again, only harder. His hand grips your waist tightly to stop your movements.

"Doll!" He groans, thinking you're just asleep and unaware of what is happening but he hears your cheeky giggles.

"Good mornin' doll." Bucky slurs from tiredness, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your head and moving his lower body away from you, already missing his closeness.

"Good mornin' Buck." You turn to face him and lay on his chest, tucking your head under his chin and intertwining your legs with his.

The silence in the room is comforting, the birds are singing their sweet tunes outside and inside it's just the sounds of two hearts beating in sync.

"What do you wanna do today?" You ask in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet. You draw an invisible pattern with your finger over his heart.

When Bucky doesn't answer, you assume he's fallen back asleep until you tilt your head up and see he's already looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Buck?"

Bucky lowers his lips to yours and you reciprocate the kiss by tilting your head to the side to kiss him deeper. This was what you wanted for so long, and Bucky has dreamed of this moment for years. He's scared he's going to wake up soon.

The kiss becomes heated and you straddle his waist, grounding yourself against him. He elicits a moan as his hands fly to your waist, his fingertips burying themselves into your skin.

"Doll.." he breathes heavily. "Do you want this? Do you want me? Because we can pretend this never happened..." he speaks lowly, hoping the latter doesn't happen.

"I want this Buck. I want you, I have for a long time." You smile down at him, pressing the palm of your hands on the pillow beside his head.

"Will you be my girl?" His tongue darts out to lick his suddenly dry lips.

"I would want nothing more than to be yours." A growl elicits from his throat at your choice of words, and clothes are flying off everywhere.

Your first official morning as a new couple is spent between the once clean but now sweat-soaked bed sheets as the two of you embark on a beautiful adventure together as boyfriend and girlfriend, which Bucky hopes one day you will walk to him down an aisle and mother his children.

And you hoped that one day this beautiful specimen of a man became your husband and fathered your children you desperately wanted in the future.

Taglist: @leosandbuckysgirl​ @jobean12-blog​ And wanted to thank a few people (sorry if I bother you!!): @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @book-dragon-13​ @criminal-cookies​ @valkyriesryde​ @mushyjellybeans​ @emmandhercoffecrisp​ @captainchrisstan​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @moonbeambucky​ @searchingforbucky​ @sebbbystaaan​ @buckythewhitewolfx​ @your-highnessmarvel​

[imagine-loki]

Of Numbers and Strange Friendships

TITLE: Of Numbers and Strange Friendships CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 60/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being friends with Peter Parker RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: None so far.  Also on AO3 here

“We best get this out of the way,” Loki eventually said, stepping back from Thor and Frigga.  He had to be strong to face Odin, especially when he knew he was going to be punished for his actions.  He had broken a lot of laws after all.  He knew he wasn’t getting out of this unscathed.  Even though Frigga had given him the golden apple to give to Peter, even though she had Seen this particular future.  It was still going to be Loki’s fault in Odin’s eyes.  

Loki would take the blame, would accept any consequence as the price for saving Peter’s life.  He would have made the same decisions a thousand times over.  He knew he had changed from who he had been when he had first met the teen.  And he knew that change was for the better. 

Despite what Odin might believe.

Odin would never see the best in Loki. 

Loki finally understood that and finally understood what family really was.  He had that family with Thor, Frigga, Sigyn, and most of all, with the teen who had forced his way into Loki’s shattered heart to repair it. 

So Loki would take whatever punishment came his way for saving Peter’s life. 

He offered Frigga his arm to escort her to the throne room.  He would always be the first to offer to escort his mother as he doted on her more than anyone else.  She placed her hand on his arm automatically and the three of them made their way to the throne room together.  As they went, Loki donned his court mask.  He wouldn’t let Odin see his fear.  He had learned that lesson a long, long time ago.  

All too soon, the guards were opening the double doors to the throne room and the three were striding up toward the throne.  Loki kept his back straight, kept his formal court mask in place as he made his way across the room, empty save Odin seated on his throne.  Frigga dropped Loki’s arm when they reached the bottom of the stairs and made her way up them to stand at Odin’s side.  Thor stayed beside Loki and both of the princes bowed to their father.  The only one who never had to bow to Odin was his wife.  

“Rise,” Odin ordered his sons.  He sounded like he was barely holding back his rage.  Loki and Thor rose as one and wisely remained silent, waiting for Odin to continue.  It was a lesson they had learned in their youth when they’d misbehaved.  Odin had stared them down for confessions, which had led to Thor babbling to Odin about mischief their father hadn’t even known about yet.  Which got them in even more trouble.  Even Thor had learned to keep his mouth shut so they only had to confess to things Odin already knew of. 

So they waited.

And waited.

Until Odin finally lost his patience.  He glared down at Loki.  “You have broken the laws of this realm.  What have you to say for yourself?” He demanded, trying to goad his son into losing his patience.  He’d chosen the wrong son for that tactic.

“Which laws do you say I have broken, father?” Loki asked calmly, his words careful as ever.  Odin was judge, jury, and executioner, as was his right as king.  Loki wasn’t going to give him any more ammunition than necessary. He was also reminding Odin of the family relationship between them, even if it was by kidnapping.  If there was any hope of mercy, it would be through that familiar bond. 

Odin’s glare turned icy.  Loki’s expression remained passive and calm, a perfect court mask.  He didn’t let Odin see his emotions, though he felt Thor stiffen next to him.  Thor’s emotions were always clear to read on his face and Thor was shifting quickly toward anger at Odin and fear for his brother.  

“You gave one of the golden apples to a mortal.  Not only that, but the mortal in question was not of age to consent.  Nor was he asked.  You acted without permission and have spoken for Asgard out of turn,” Odin recited, glowering at Loki.

Loki remained unfazed.  “I did give one of the golden apples to Peter.  That apple had been set aside for him with Mother’s consent, as is her right as Allmother.” They were equally allowed to divvy out Idun’s apples.  

Frigga inclined her head.  “Yes, I did give consent and gave the apple to Loki to give to Peter.  I foresaw these events and knew this to be the correct course of action,” she told Odin.  

“The law was still broken,” Odin insisted.

Loki had known beforehand and knew more at those words that Odin had already made up his mind.  His mind had been made up about his son since he’d found out Peter had become Asgardian.  Loki inclined his head, accepting his fate.  There was no reason to draw this out.  He was cornered and Odin wanted to see him punished, wanted him cowed.  He refused to see that Loki was so much better with Peter in his life.  

Frigga started to protest, but Odin overruled her.  They may be equal in certain things, but Odin’s word was still ultimately the law, despite his wife’s wishes.  And Odin wanted to teach Loki a lesson, teach him not to act out of turn, teach him to obey for once.  

Loki knew it.  And didn’t give a single solitary fuck.  The field where the fucks grew for what Odin wanted was not only barren, but the ground had been razed and salted.  

He would have broken every law of every realm and burned them all to the ground to save Peter’s life.  They all knew it.  And that was really what Odin was trying to punish out of Loki.  He didn’t like that Loki’s loyalties lay with people instead of the throne and kingdom.  Loki was loyal to a fault, but only to those who had earned that loyalty.  The list was very few:  Frigga, Thor, Sigyn, Peter, and Wanda.

“The usual punishment, then.  And I pray this time the lesson sticks,” Odin glared at Loki.  Frigga protested again and Odin had her escorted out by the guards.  She only had so much authority in the throne room, even as queen.  Odin was within his rights to have her removed.  That wasn’t going to be the last of that conversation, but that conversation would continue behind closed doors and end with Odin being ripped a new asshole by his wife.  And not having sex again for a century.  

That wouldn’t save Loki from the usual punishment.  

Loki had expected it, but fear still knit his heart and his stomach plummeted.  

“Father, please!  This is not Loki’s fault!” Thor protested, trying to save his brother from the pain Odin had in store.  

Odin turned his gaze to his other son.  “You are no less guilty.  You knew the laws were being broken and did not stop Loki-“

“Peter would have died!” Thor protested.

“The life of one mortal is not worth the safety of us all!” Odin roared at him.  “If word of Idun’s apples gets out the mortals will be demanding one for all of them.”

Thor glared up at Odin.  “That is where we are different, father.  I have learned that the mortal lives have just as much value as ours,” 

Loki touched Thor’s arm, a silent reminder not to make things worse.  

Unfortunately, Thor had already made things worse.

“You have a lesson to learn here as well,” Odin told Thor coldly.  “You will be the one to perform Loki’s punishment.  Immediately,” 

Both of the princes paled at that order.  It was horrifying to both of them.  Odin was trying to wedge the brothers apart again, pit them against each other.  He didn’t realize he was only driving them together, giving them a common enemy.  

“And if I refuse?” Thor demanded.  

“Then Loki will return to his previous sentence,” Odin replied easily.  He had the brothers by the balls now, and they both knew it.  Loki paled further at the threat.  Life in the dungeons.  Four thousand more years of solitary confinement.  He couldn’t go through that.  Not without going completely out of his mind.  

He touched Thor’s arm again and gave him a look.  This wasn’t the time to fight, not with Loki’s freedom on the line.  He would take the punishment to not lose the life he was building.  He had friends, a family, he wouldn’t have those ripped from him because of Odin. 

Thor growled, hating being cornered, but nodded gruffly.  “Very well,” he glared at Odin and they could all see that Odin had lost Thor’s respect with this move.  Some of the gauze had been pulled from Thor’s eyes and he was seeing how unfairly Odin treated Loki.  

He was no happier with Odin than Frigga was.  He didn’t have the power to do anything about it, but Frigga did.  Her sons would have to hope that she would get retribution for this outrage.  But for now, none of them had any options.

Odin had them all cornered.

“If we are dismissed, then, Allfather?” Thor demanded.  It was a slap in the face to Odin to use his title and they all knew it.  Thor was livid and Loki loved him for it, even if there wasn’t anything Thor could do to save him. 

Odin nodded and the princes bowed again before they left as quickly as was seemly.  Thor turned to Loki when they were safely out of the throne room. “I am so, so sorry, brother,” he said heartbroken.

Loki nodded and placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder.  “I know.  This isn’t your fault.  Let’s just get this over with and get back to Midgard before Peter worries and gets the whole team in a conniption over it.” Loki was trying to make it sound lighter than it was, trying to ease Thor’s mind and conscience.  This wasn’t Thor’s fault after all.  

Thor nodded and the pair made their way to the room that was already prepared.  Odin really had been planning this all along.  Loki realized it when he saw that everything was there and ready and a guard was standing in the room to make sure the task was carried out.  Thor paled when he came to the same realization, but didn’t comment on it.  

Loki stripped off his shirt as he moved to the center of the room where the hard, uncomfortable chair was waiting for him.  As he did, he summoned, and quickly drank, a bottle of numbing potion so he wouldn’t feel as much of the pain.  It would still hurt, but not as badly.  He managed to down the potion without the guard seeing. Thor did, but didn’t question it, knowing that Loki had been through this multiple times before.

Loki took a seat in the uncomfortable chair and Thor looked at the instruments laid out on the table.  Thor was starting to look green at the idea.  “Thor,” Loki said gently to get Thor’s attention.  

Thor looked over at him, horror and pain in his eyes.  Thor was supposed to protect his little brother, not hurt him.  Thor’s horror grew when Loki dropped a layer of illusions that he hadn’t even known Loki wore.  He knew Loki had an illusion to keep his Asgardian form.  He didn’t know about this.

He knew Loki had been punished before.

But…

Nothing prepared him for seeing that those punishments had left scars.  He thought Loki had healed.

Instead, there were scars in Loki’s lips from the times before this when Odin had deemed silencing the silvertongued god sufficient punishment for crimes real or imagined.  

“Just follow the scars and everything will be alright,” Loki reassured Thor gently.  He knew this would break Thor’s heart.  They were brothers, and though they’d grown apart, they’d finally been healing, and Thor would always be Loki’s older brother.  He was supposed to protect Loki.  Now Odin was making him hurt his little brother for his own sick, twisted ‘lessons’.  

“I’m sorry,” Thor repeated, horrified.

“It’s not your fault.  Tell Peter it’s not his either,” Loki reassured him. 

The guard cleared his throat.  They’d already stalled too long.

Thor picked up the already-threaded needle before he lost his nerve.  Loki leaned his head back against the back of the chair so he’d remained as still as possible.  “I love you, brother.  I am truly sorry,” Thor told him.

Loki looked up into Thor’s eyes and saw his pain there.  “I love you too.” It had been years since Loki could admit that, years since they’d been forced apart.  Loki saw the resolve in Thor’s eyes, not resolve for the task at hand, but resolve that he would never let anything like this happen again, that he would protect his little brother, and he would never let his own quest for power and glory drive him away from what mattered most to him again.

Thor bit back tears as Loki gripped the arms of the chair to keep from moving.  He brought the needle to the first scar in Loki’s lips. It slid through easier than expected, both needle and thread were spelled, though not against pain, not against blood.  Loki kept his mouth closed, letting Thor work in peace.  He didn’t dare make a sound as the needle pierced his lips, as the thick thread tugged through.  

Pain shot through him with each pass of the needle, though it was numbed slightly by the potion.  

Loki’s blood filled his mouth, dripped down his chin.  A small noise escaped him at the pain, as all thoughts but the pain fled his mind.  He didn’t want to make this harder on Thor, though, and tried to still himself, to still his mind.

Thor’s hands were steady as he worked, careful not to cause more pain than absolutely necessary.  He kept muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, trying to reassure them both.

The pain continued.  Each pierce of his lips, each reopening of old wounds, each time his blood spilled, each time the thread pulled through his lips, tugging the stitches tight.

He couldn’t help the tears of pain that spilled from his eyes.  He couldn’t help the shame and humiliation of having this done to him again.  Of being muted so openly, punished so obviously.

And still, he would choose this every time to losing Peter in his life. 

Finally, the tugging stopped, the thread tied off and cut.  It wouldn’t come out until Odin had decided he was punished enough and the thread disintegrated when the spell ended.  It was magically sealed with gungnir, embedded in the thread, so there was no way Loki could break the spells himself.  He’d tried before.

Thor pulled Loki into his arms, despite Loki usually hating hugs.  He felt his brother’s tears land on him as he held him tightly.  “I’m so sorry, brother.  I swear to you, I will never let this happen again. I swear,” Thor pleaded with him to understand.  

For once, instead of stabbing Thor for hugging him, Loki wrapped his arms around Thor’s waist and held him tightly, taking strength from his brother.  

He would need that strength to face the people.

He would need that strength to face the horror that would come from Peter.  Peter would blame himself, though it wasn’t his fault at all.  Loki would need all of his wits and skills to reassure the teen that he was ok.  Though he wouldn’t be able to face it if Peter finally had enough of him and gave up on him.

Though Loki finally felt in his heart that that wouldn’t happen.  Peter hadn’t given up on him yet.  He wouldn’t just because Odin was an ass to his son. 

“I’m here for you,” Thor reminded him.  “We’ll get through this together and never allow anything like this to happen again.” There was a resolve in Thor’s voice. He wouldn’t hurt Loki like this again.  He would find a way to see to it that Odin couldn’t do anything like this again, couldn’t abuse the power he had to hurt those he was supposed to protect, especially not his own son.  

Thor’s relationship with his father had broken in this and, despite Odin’s efforts, his relationship with Loki had strengthened.  They would get through this together, fight this battle together, just as they had so many battles across the centuries.  For one thing had always been true: while the princes may have their differences, they were stronger together, and would fight side by side against any adversary, especially one that threatened their brother. 

This injustice wouldn’t go unanswered.  

Thor just had to get Loki out of Odin’s reach before he returned to see his brother avenged.  

[feuilly-cakes]

Breaking Dawn - 3* review

Oh boy was this a long one. Okay, I really don't know how to feel about this book, because on one hand I had lots of fun revisiting my old favourite and picking it apart but on the other hand I had a very big issue with a major part of the plot. If I were rating based on each book within this book, I would give book one 4*and book two and three 3*. It starts out strong, then gets progressively harder to keep track of, but then maybe my short attention span is the problem here. I learned many interesting facts and character traits in this book, and I also figured out something important to do with imprinting that's been vaguely introduced in the previous book but is explored in-depth here. Stick around if you want to see what that discovery is. As usual, I'll be putting interesting and relevant facts and things I found particularly offensive under sub-headings, but I'll be saying a lot about each book as if it's separate before then, because Breaking Dawn as a whole is too long to talk about with any coherency. So without further ado: There are only spoilers ahead. Book 1: Bella First let me just say that these books have such amazing prologues/prefaces that immediately grab your attention. If you didn't know she was going to get pregnant, it would probably seem like she's talking about Edward being the one killing her. Anyway, this book was shorter than I expected, but far more enjoyable. This one seems to be more family oriented in the language used than previous in the series; while before any of the Cullens would be described as 'Edward's adopted -' , in this they are simply his mother, his brothers, his sisters. Even Jasper, who always seemed to me to be the outsider of the bunch, uses the term "We Cullens" and it just feels more like a family than a vampire coven pretending to be a family. This is helped along by Bella suddenly knowing so much more about the history of the Cullens and their extended family the Denalis. She's ready to fit right on in there. This book deals with the wedding and the honeymoon. Bella reflects on how she told her parents, freaks out about getting married, has her wedding, abruptly changes her stance on said wedding, then they shoot off to the honeymoon and things occur. Basically, she gets pregnant. It's a huge commotion. Backtracking, both Charlie and Renee were weirdly supportive about the engagement and handled it super well, with Renee and Bella having such a lovely conversation I nearly teared up. She's a great mother even when she's not physically there for Bella. Bella, on the other hand, is doing that thing again where she's selfish and a bit mean without realising she's being that way. Poor Edward is stressed to his eyeballs about the honeymoon and the very real possibility of hurting and even killing Bella, and she just brushes him right off. More on that later, but that's not the responsible way to do things, Bella. Fast forward to the honeymoon, and Edward is now the one being dramatic, refusing to sleep with her again because he bruised her and not listening to her when she says she's perfectly fine. The way it happens is very funny. Then we get to see random things happening that oh so subtly turn out to be pregnancy symptoms, like strange dreams about vampire babies who look human, oversleeping, mood swings, strange eating habits, and last but not least, morning sickness. It wasn't subtle. When they figure it out Edward loses it and says he's going to arrange for her to have an abortion. Bella asks Rosalie for help, and screen fades to black. The big theme here is that Bella changes her mind. She doesn't want to be married until she suddenly does at her wedding, she doesn't want to stay human until she decides she can afford a few extra years, and she doesn't want kids until she's already pregnant. Even with Rosalie, their slowly evolving relationship wasn't going to be proper friendship until Bella asks her for help. She's changing so quickly it's like getting whiplash, but it's not unrealistic. That's how I make most of my big decisions too, like it simmers away unnoticed until it's ready to be addressed. Relatable, really. Book 2: Jacob Book 2 takes us through Bella's pregnancy from Jacob's perspective, as he goes from planning to kill the Cullens to becoming their biggest protector and an Alpha of his own pack. As much as I love multiple POVs in books this is one I couldn't get behind, and here's why. One of the main themes in this book is imprinting. I don't like it. While I adore soulmates as a concept, and even more so platonic soulmates, it's made clear that this isn't what that is, and it's icky. We get 4 pages of Quil interacting with his imprint Claire, who is 3. The whole time Jacob has a running commentary on how Quil is more devoted than a parent would ever be, how he wants to make her so very happy, how it's so very different from that of a parent, and how Quil has to wait like a "monk" for "a good fourteen years" until Claire was his age. This was never platonic, it was a waiting game. It's also grooming. This was also around the time it became apparent just why Quil imprinted on Claire in the first place: it was all a set up for Jacob's eventual imprint. It had to be a part of the story before it happened so people wouldn't question it, and for the most part it worked. Both Quil's story and Jacob's interactions with a pregnant Bella prove this: "the hold she had on me only got harder to break. Almost like it was related to her expanding belly" and "It feels... complete when you're here, Jacob. Like all my family is together." I hated reading that. He should've imprinted on that nice girl Lizzie, from the park. Surely Stephenie Meyer could've come up with something else to keep Nessie alive? Onto similarly disturbing things but less revolting in the long run, Bella's story here seems to be an attempt at pro-life propaganda that backfired. The reason? Bella makes a choice about her body, and though most of them don't like it, they don't force her to do otherwise. People seem to forget that being pro-choice also means the choice to stay pregnant even when it's best not to. Bella makes that decision and she's absolutely sure of it, at the expense of her life and health, but it's hers to make. She is pitted against Edward, who would absolutely force her to have an abortion if he had backup, and who is also losing his damn mind. He insists to Jacob that Carlisle would help him if not for Esme, and that Rosalie doesn't care about Bella's life, only the baby's. Carlisle himself tells Jacob he would never take the choice away from Bella, and context shows that Rosalie is protecting Bella's choices and bodily autonomy, and carrying out her last wishes to ensure the baby is brought into the world healthy. Remember that Rosalie had all her choices taken from her, and all she wanted for Bella was for her to make the right ones. Edward doesn't change his stance until he discovers the baby has thoughts that can be read, and loves Bella. Once again, this seems to have been an attempt at showing that babies have thoughts and feelings in the womb, but it does almost the opposite as Bella is a day away from full term and not once has anything been picked up by either him or Jasper before that point. It's safe to assume there was nothing to pick up on. The pregnancy ends with a truly horrifying birth scene that made my hands go numb and my ears ring from the violence of it all. Bella dies, Jacob imprints on a minutes-old baby and begins his journey as a child groomer, and then Bella comes back and begins her transformation. Book 3: Bella. Or as I like to call it: It all goes downhill from here. Bella has the most unrealistic yet brutal experience ever, and is now a super sexy, super perfect, super powerful, super smart vampire. She has a perfect baby, perfect control of her bloodlust, and somehow the perfect life. But oh no! The Volturi are threatening that peace! Who could have predicted that the last remaining villains would appear in the last book? Now Bella and the rest of the Cullens have to find their friends to stop the Volturi in their track, but peacefully of course, because they are the good guys really! Just a misunderstanding! I'm so glad that was addressed in story, because I would not have been able to deal with a pro-police/pro-dictator story in this political climate. The most unrealistic part of this is when the Volturi don't simply assert their vampire dominance over them by killing them all without taking their own witnesses. I didn't like how Bella suddenly became perfect and good at everything in this book. It's so unrealistic. Less than a month to become the strongest shield ever and be able to scare the ancient Volturi? Perfect control on her first hunt? I think not thank you. There was also a missed opportunity to have Bella be a psychic of some kind since she dreamt of the future accurately many times. Renesmee was very sweet though, and that's all I'll say on that. Now onto my lists! Differences between book and film This was mostly pretty accurate in terms of plot. - Edward's backstory that we see pre-wedding isn't a thing in the book. It actually isn't a thing in any of the main books, but I can't speak for the others. - Bella knows about the immortal children before the book even starts, and she's the one to realise that Irina thought Renesmee was one herself. - The wedding is inside. The film had it outside I'm pretty sure. - The whole part where Jacob freaks out and borrows a very fancy sports car to go and try to find his imprint was never in the films, and I think that's a tragedy. Vampires - The appearance of the nicknames Em and Jazz for Emmett and Jasper. It's not at all important I just thought it was cute. - Half vampire babies use their teeth to escape the womb. Also, Renesmee was trying to be careful to not hurt Bella while she was still inside her. She started reading when she was under 3 months. If I saw a baby read aloud in full sentences I'd never sleep again. - Edward called Jacob "Jake" in book 3. It's weird how their relationship changes throughout the book. - Poor Renesmee knows it's because of her that the Volturi are coming, and says "This is my fault." She's just a few months old at this point, and she's already going through a whole lot. - The volturi look like someone threw baby powder on them because they sat still for so long they started "petrifying". - There are 32 Volturi members, considering they took the whole coven with them to Forks. - Fun Bella fact: she was going to let Charlie assume what was up with her because she thinks he will never decide on vampire. Red Flags Most of these have been discussed in depth so I'll just mention them briefly. - Edward, pre wedding, is described as having a "panic attack" by Bella at the thought of hurting her, and instead of reassuring him she brushes him off and thinks "He wasn't getting out of this deal. Not after insisting I marry him first." This is beyond selfish and even cruel, because he has a point and genuine concerns that should have been discussed properly. - "We're going to get that thing out before it can hurt any part of you." Edward has decided this for himself, without Bella's input. - Jacob contemplates suicide over the thought of having to see Leah. This is absolutely not something that should be talked about like it's nothing. - The imprinting of Quil and Claire. - Every bit of foreshadowing about Jacob imprinting on Renesmee, and the act itself. - Rosalie calls the place in South America where the half vampire myths originated "a disease-infested swamp with a medicine man smearing sloth spit across your face" in relation to giving birth there, and it's more than a little racist. How would she even know what it's like? - "the Egyptians all looked so alike, with their midnight hair and olive-toned pallor, that they could have easily passed for a biological family" The white, blonde Denali sisters were never ever described this way, so why are the non-white people described as such? - Bella had "never met any vampires less civilized" than the Amazons. They have long black braids, so we can assume they aren't white. Why are only the non-white vampires being described these ways? - Bella describes the rough area where she met 1 person, who was working for J Jenks and happened to be Black, but was well dressed in rich clothes, as the "ghetto address". Upon googling, I learnt that this refers to low income areas of a city that are occupied by minorities. She met one person. How could she possibly know if it was the "ghetto"? It was described as the "downtown office" by Max, the man in question, so why wouldn't she just use that term? - Jacob gives Renesmee the Quileute equivalent of a promise ring. I want to throw up, because we all know what a promise ring symbolises. - Lastly but certainly not leastly, when learning Renesmee will be full grown at age 7, Bella feels a "shudder" from Jacob. I hate it, it's gross, it needs to burn. Disgusting. And that's that, sorry it's so long, I had a lot to say. If you have any opinions on this review, feel free to discuss with me!

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Look After You || Ariana & Sammy

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @inspirationdivine & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After a while of not seeing each other, Ariana and Ace finally catch each other at their spot. Ace addresses that she showed up at Lydia’s.  CONTENT: emotional and domestic abuse discussions 

Since her encounter with Lydia, Ariana had been reading up on all things she could find about fae. Most of it was confusing and conflicting. None of it made her feel more confident she could actually help Ace, but she had to try. She figured Lydia was not Lydia’s real name if the whole not being able to use their own name thing was true. It explained stealing other people’s names. Some fae were incubus and succubus like… which still didn’t explain much though she did wonder if Ulfric came across one. The thought only further stressed her out as she walked to their spot in the woods. She’d been by almost every night, but somehow she kept missing Ace which left an anxious pit in her stomach. She could hardly sit still as she waited by the tree they usually left notes at. Instead of taking a seat comfortably on a root, she paced around the tree, senses on high alert. She heard footsteps before she could see his form approaching. “Ace,” she called, “Is that you?”

Getting out had been harder recently for Sammy, with Lydia’s guest being there, and then going missing, and then that night that there was a giant in the garden, and the guest being found and still being in the home and - it had been a while. So much of a while that Sammy wasn’t super sure Ari would even be there. He’d crumpled paper into her jeans and a pen so he could try to leave her a message. In the dark, he could still see her purple hair, and he grinned brightly. “Sure is! Hey Ari!” He said as he grabbed and pulled her into a hug for a tight second, before stepping back, hands on her shoulders. “I thought I said not to look in your hunch.”

As always, Ariana welcomed the hug from Ace. There was something comforting in the way he always vaguely smelled of clay and seeing his face when she had been so unsure he’d be okay always came as a relief. His words, however, had not. She felt hands firmly on her shoulders and she looked up to him, somewhat sheepishly. She’d been caught though she supposed as much should have been evident from her run in with Lydia. “So Lydia told you I came by then?” She shifted her weight on her heels, still unsure of what exactly to say. She didn’t want to apologize when she wasn’t actually sorry. She didn’t trust Lydia and she still had this gnawing feeling that Ace wasn’t safe. “I know what you said, but I worry about you and I can’t shake this feeling that you’re not safe.”

Sammy pressed his lips together, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It would have been so much worse if Lydia had told him, it would have meant she knew about his betrayal. His stomach turned a little at the fact he was still betraying her, knowing that every time he saw Ari it could make things worse for Lydia. Maybe this should be the last time. Maybe she’d just kinda drop it all if she stopped seeing him, but that turned his stomach too, in a different, more painful way. He couldn’t even tell her that he was safe. Safe maybe from fish falling out of the sky, but not from slowly having the life sucked out of him by someone he couldn’t help but trust. “Uhhh, not that I don’t appreciate the worry and the feelings, but, Ari, I don’t get why it matters to you so much.”

To say Ariana was taken aback by what Ace had just said would be an understatement. Both the confusion and the hurt were evident in the way her brow furrowed as she looked at him incredulously. “What do you,” she trailed off, unsure of what even to say and she felt her fists curling up into balls. How could he just be so blase in asking why his safety of all things mattered to her? Were they not friends? Were all these night time chats and walks just a way to pass the time? No, that couldn’t be it, he’d been caring and kind. He worried about her. As much didn’t keep the edge out of her voice as she explained, “Because I care about you, dumbass. You’re human in this crazy bizarre town and you’re evidently unable to speak about yourself much-- kind of screams some sort of weird compulsion or promise or something. I’m not apologizing for assuming the worst and trying to protect you.” Especially when she was so sure she was right about this. She was positive Lydia was some kind of fae… which narrowed all of nothing down. The books had so much conflicting information that she wasn’t even sure what she believed. All she knew was she’d do whatever it took to make sure Ace was safe. She refused to lose someone else she cared about.

“That doesn’t mean-” Sammy rubbed his face, stepping back from Ari. “That’s not. I shouldn’t have let this happen. You’ve just graduated highschool, you lost your sister, you can’t-” The promise gagged his rant so hard he spluttered and cough, clutching his chest. He looked back up at her, and sagged against the tree behind him, wrapping his arms around himself. Everything she said solidified it over and over again - he couldn’t keep seeing her. Just as Chloe had said. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, Ari, you’re just - You’re so lucky Lydia has a guest staying!”

"Yeah, and I'm not losing you, too," Ariana retorted, eyes steely and fists still clenched. It wasn't the first time she'd heard the justification of her being too young or troubled herself to help. She was sick of it. She couldn't be expected to just sit by while people she cared about were clearly in danger. Not when she could help. She was stronger than most and had connections. Maybe she couldn't bring her sister back, but she'd fight tooth and nail to make sure the people in her life now were here to stay. How he seemed to cough over his words and cut himself was also alarming. It only solidified her fears. The mention of having a guest caused her to raise a brow. "That means you're not the guest then. I didn't think you were free to have company as she implied. So you're not safe or free. I don't care what Lydia is, that's not right."  

“You’re not losing me!” Sammy retorted. His eyes widened. “No, no no no, I shouldn’t have said that!” But he’d been able to. How? Why? Was it because Ari knew he was part of Lydia’s household? Because the zombie wasn’t? Maybe Chloe would know. “Ari, Ari, please I-” He swallowed, the anger fading away as he slid down the tree, wrapping his arms around her knees. “I- I don’t want to leave her. She’s… amazing, Ariana. I can’t - I can’t explain much, but if she asked me to I’d die for her. Kill for her. She’s like no one I’ve ever met.” Sammy pressed the heels of his palms hard against his eyes, like it might be possible to stop the tears springing from his eyes. “I know that isn’t what you want to hear.”

Even though he swore she wasn't losing him, Ariana still had her doubts. Something wasn't right about his situation and she couldn't just let it go. She pressed further, "Shouldn't have said what?"  Anger and worry seemed to be raging in equal measure. Even if she was frustrated with him, she could hardly crush the urge to protect him. Seeing him slid down the tree, she wanted to reach out to him, but she still felt so overwhelmed by this whole thing. Especially as he spoke so highly of Lydia. She refrained from scoffing, but still remarked, “Jeez, is she one of those succubus fairies then? Doesn’t smell goat-y enough to be a glaistig.And I don’t care how great she is if you’re not actually a guest, if she’s keeping you.” She refrained from mentioning feeding on him. Some fae apparently fed on words though it was all kind hard to wrap her mind around. Remembering something about names, she blurted out, “You have to find out her true name.”

“She’s not a fairy!” Sammy interrupted, “And, ew, you know I can’t tell you what she is, but succubi are the devil sex ladies, right? And eugh. Lydia is… oh, you should see her when she’s really her. She’s so beautiful, so clever, inspiring… It’s not like you think.” Sammy blinked. Every time he accidentally burned himself on the kiln after getting such a huge dose of inspiration. Every time he collapsed from exhaustion. Every time Lydia’s rage erupted from her like a viper and she - rightfully -  banished him to the basement for disappointing her. She always said the same thing. Remember, my pet, “I chose this. I chose her. I just wish...“ Sammy shook his head. No point in wishing, as Chloe would say.

Normally, Ariana would have cared about using the word fairy because she knew it was an offensive term, but she wanted to offend Lydia. The fact he couldn’t tell her what Lydia was only seemed to further her point in her mind. How he spoke of her made her feel sick to her stomach though. What the hell was she and how did she do this? “I know the proper term is fae and I know that’s what she likely is,” she said plainly as her boot kicked away a rock. “That’s not exactly what they are… at least I don’t think so. The books on fae all have crazy different descriptions of different species and their abilities.” Her knuckles were turning white at this point with how tense her fists were. “Inspiring? Really? If she’s so clever and inspiring and it’s not what I think, why aren’t you free to do as you please? Why do you have to sneak around?” As he trailed off, she felt the familiar pang of sympathy that made her certain her worries weren’t unfounded. She sighed, her features softening again, “You just wish what?”

“I don’t that there’s any book that could fully describe how amazing she is.” This time, there was no stopping the tears. Sammy knew, cognitively, what Lydia was. He always had, from the moment she’d brought him into her home and her loving facade had stopped. The incredible woman who had been there for him just as his few friendships had fallen apart had been hunting him and orchestrating his isolation. The lady who came to sing with Chloe in the evenings was the one who had stripped the last breaths of life out of Anneliese. She’d come in the morning to sit with him in the pottery room, and every time he shaped the clay he shaped it in her image, and she’d tell him about the bounty she’d set on his family because she couldn’t risk slayers coming after her. She was all at once the most amazing thing that had happened to him, and the worst. The contradiction sometimes hit him so hard it hurt his chest, but maybe that was just the ache of the life she was stealing from him, in more ways than one. Sammy took a long, deep breath. If he felt too much at once he might wake her, and she didn’t deserve to have to worry about him… or the way he was betraying her. "It’s complicated, okay! But, I want to stay with her, Ari. I don’t think I could live without her.” He swallowed, wiping at his eyes. “I wish… the circumstances we met in were different.” Lydia loved to talk, in the evenings, when she was casually described her day and brought the outside world to them. He heard all the stories of her zombie, fae and werewolf friends, how she glowed when she spoke. Ari had no idea how much he wanted to make her glow like that.

“Right,” Ariana trailed off. She wanted to challenge his statement, but it was hard to do so when he was so clearly under some sort of influence. It was even harder when she realized there were tears spilling over from his eyes. Making sure he was safe was going to be more difficult than she could have anticipated. She let out an almost inaudible sigh and gently patted his back with the palm of her hand, hoping it provided some small bit of comfort like he had done for her on quite a few occasions at this point. “Hey,” she spoke softly, “It’s gonna be okay. I know you can’t tell me everything and I won’t hurt Lydia.” Unless she hurts you. I’m pretty sure she already has. She kept a hand on his shoulder, not sure if she was supporting him or herself at this point. It seemed so easy for him to just slip away from her reach at any given moment. Whatever Lydia was, it was clear she had her claws deep in Ace. It wasn’t going to be easy to free him of whatever magic was clouding his view of his situation. Amazing people don’t hold people hostage. He realizes he doesn’t have freedom and he’s okay with it. What is she doing to him? “Seems like the supernatural is always complicated. Probably something you shouldn’t be mixed up in at all,” she replied, choking out the last part because she knew it meant he probably shouldn’t even be involved with her. She frowned watching him catch his breath and struggle with all of this. “Even if it sucks, the circumstances are what they are. At the end of the day, you’re a good person who deserves to be free to come and go as you please. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean leaving her, but whatever magic she has shouldn’t be used on you like that.”

“Yeah, but Ari, you said you wouldn’t do anything with the hunch either, and you lied. Forgot people did that,” Sammy pointed out, his voice croaky as he fought to bring his mood down. He sounded monotone, only betrayed by the rare sniffles. He did laugh drily at her saying he shouldn’t be mixed up. Couple decades late for that. “Nah. Wouldn’t get to know you then, would I?” He asked, looking back up at her with a watery smile, and finally letting himself feel her hand on his shoulder, and finally let himself lean into it. Wolf in shining armour, right?  “Right,” he agreed softly, pressing his face into his knees. Right because he’d heard her, not because he agreed. Lydia was only interested in him because of her magic. She wouldn’t be interested in having a human around without being able to feed on him.

“I guess I did,” Ariana said slowly, noting that he forgot people lied as she tried to bite back the feeling of guilt. She wasn’t going to leave this alone, but she could be honest with him about it at the very least. “Maybe I should have talked to you first, but I think it’s pretty obvious you can’t just tell me what’s going on. I don’t know if it’s a promise or some other sort of magic. Either way, I’m going to make sure you’re safe.” He sounded distant yet his sniffles gave him away. It made it harder for her to ignore the urge to cry, but she was going to be strong for him this time. He’d been so caring when she’d been at her lowest, she could spend a little while longer pretending her worry and his current state weren’t driving her mad. “You’re right, you wouldn’t,” she said weakly, “But I’m glad you did.” She meant as much. She had every note he’d ever left her tucked away in her nightstand. She’d even been tempted to pin his bat drawing to the wall, but decided it’d raise too many questions. Their nights out walking to town or just enjoying the views in White Crest had been something she’d grown to treasure. After some moments of quiet, she finally asked, “Are you mad at me?”

Calm. He was calm. Sammy was calm, and not an having existential crisis in the middle of the forest in front of a high schooler. No, that wasn’t fair, because Ari was an adult, and capable, and so much braver than him. He couldn’t imagine having met her in any other version of his life, but he wish he could have. In a life where he was still struggling to make ends meet, but could walk around the streets in the daytime, and lean on his friends. But a world like that felt empty. His world now was so full, but he had to be greedy, and sneak out at night. When Chloe went, she’d sit on the beach, but no, Sammy had gone and made a friend, have his cake and eat it too. Calm, calmer. “I’m glad to have met you too.” He said quietly, muffled. She’d have heard it either way.

Sammy kept his face pressed into his knees, letting the silence linger long after his question. When he did answer, it began quiet, and rose to a panicked crescendo.“I don’t know. I don’t know if we can keep doing this. Not if you’re going to keep digging around Lydia and pissing her off. I mean, Ari, you could get her killed! Or make her move. You’re snooping around her house, you’re doing research, what’s next, posting in her subreddit? And it’s my fault, it’s all my fault!” His voice cracked, and he swung his head up to rest against the tree bark. “I need to calm down. I’m going to wake her.  Calm, calm calm.” He repeated it like a mantra, like if he just said it, he would be it.

If she had been in wolf form, her ears would have perked up at the mention of a subreddit. Instead, Ariana pulled off a puppy-like head tilt that Ace couldn’t see from his current position. That small sense of hope was quickly forgotten when she saw how broken up Ace was over all of this. She gently stroked his back, hoping to provide some comfort, but quickly recoiled when he mentioned getting Lydia killed. Her face scrunched up and she shook her head. “I’m not going to get Lydia killed. Aside from the fact I don’t believe in killing people, supernatural or otherwise, we do have mutual friends. I can’t say I really give a shit if I piss her off, but I’m sure she could at least be inclined to allow you to make more of your own choices… even if that choice includes wanting to be with her.” The last part came out in a grated tone, but she meant the rest of it. Fae weren’t bad. Deirdre was more than enough proof of that. The woman had shown her so much kindness during the worst days of her life. Hell, Kaden was even dating a fae. She didn’t like Lydia, but she wasn’t just going to run off to a warden about it. She had every intention of dealing with this herself. As his head swung up, another thing he said caught her attention. Could Lydia feel his emotions while they were apart somehow? Were they that connected? The whole idea of it made her shudder though she couldn’t say whether it was from disgust or perhaps even a bit of jealousy. “Ace, it’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but-- Fuck, I don’t know, but I’ll come up with something. I promise.”

“No, no, no, I don’t think you’d do it deliberately, but some of the people in this town are dangerous. What if you ask the wrong person the wrong question?” Sammy pleaded, as afraid as he was distressed. “Ari, please, please stop this.” She’d let go of him, and god, he wanted to reach for her, his life preserver in the ocean, but it felt like she’d recoiled, like she was disgusted with him and he knew it was wrong, he knew it was wrong to want Lydia this much, but he did. But Ari had let go, and whatever little was holding him together untethered. He could barely feel the tree bark against his back, or the roots under his legs, the leaves nearby. He pressed his hands to his head, and sobbed, not able to get any more words out.

“Uhm, werewolf here. I’m not going to run off and tell a warden about all of this. I’m not even going to really tell anyone I actually know and trust either,” Ariana assured, wrestling with herself as to whether or not she should offer a comforting shoulder pat again. He was clearly distressed and she knew a lot of this had to be the magic being used on him. As much as she hated how much he wanted to protect Lydia when she was clearly hurting him, she still wanted to soothe his worries. So she reached out again, hoping it would be welcomed and gave his shoulder a few cautionary pats. “You know I can’t do that, Ace. I know how these things work. I know you’re not safe,” she said, hand now resting on him again and she looked to him. Trying to take in all of his features. Trying to hold on to that earthy scent that seemed to cling to him. She hated this. She felt so torn between her loyalty to him and the supernatural, but hadn’t she always been somewhat caught in the middle of both worlds? His sobs broke something inside of her and she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer to her hoping it provided some sense of peace like he’d done for her on more than one occasion. “Ace, it’s going to be okay. Lydia will be fine and alive. You’ll be safe. We’ll get to actually be friends and do normal people stuff. It’s going to be better. Not worse. I can handle this. Lydia and I have some common ground, I can make this work, okay?”

Sammy didn’t look back up to her until she wrapped her arms around him. Her expression was so kind and gentle, and his face broke into a weak, watery smile. “Shit. I sure am a mess, huh? Good thing I’ve got a knight in shining armour to sweep me off my feet.” He listened to her words, staring into those caring eyes and finding himself overwhelmed. Chloe had no energy for kindness, Lydia’s always came with a price. His breath shuddered, and he pressed his face right into the nook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her too. He didn’t say anything, but told himself that for just one night, he could believe her lies and promises, the things she couldn’t possibly guarantee. Sammy held her close, felt her heart pumping in her chest, and finally felt something resembling calm.

When he looked back up at her, Ariana did her best to offer up a reassuring grin. Even if she was terrified she might not be able to save him. Even if the way he spoke about Lydia made something she didn’t quite recognize in her. He was still her Ace and it’s what he’d always done for her. He was so kind yet he was caught up in something bigger than she could even understand. “No, no-- it's okay you're upset. I mean, I don't like seeing you upset, but I'm here for you. Kinda part of the whole wolf in shining armor thing." When he rested his head into her neck and held on to her, she felt inclined to hold him tighter. She focused on the way his heart sounded as it slowed, the soothing feeling of breathing as he was nestled into her, and how it felt to have him in her arms. Everything in her wanted to ignore that the morning was approaching far sooner than she would have liked. Then, who knew when he’d get the chance to sneak out and see her again. The thought only made her squeeze him tighter, not wanting to let him return to Lydia. She remembered Ulfric telling her to remember what could happen when she felt her patience wearing thin. She didn’t yet understand what exactly Lydia was and what she was capable of. If keeping him from returning turned out to be fatal-- No, she wouldn’t think of that. She was going to save him. She had to save him. Any other option was unthinkable. She rested her own head on his and decided to stretch this moment out for as long as she possibly could.