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jo-harrington · 4 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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#Eddie munson x reader #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson #Eddie munson #stff updates

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arlana-likes-to-write · 6 months

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Holiday Compromise

Summary: It was your nature to be a giver. You could give the shirt off your back if your girlfriend asked you for it. But when she is just as stubborn as you are, you have to be creative this holiday season to give the small family of three a Christmas they deserve.

Warning: slander of Vision and Sharon (no hate to them), implied sex, drinking, divorce, mention of fighting and past childhood trauma, reader is lowkeye rich, no Avenger/power AU

Note: I can't believe this is my first Wanda x reader fic, wild.

Word Count: 5.2k

You heard Wanda say goodbye to Billy and Tommy as their father picked them up to celebrate Thanksgiving with him and his new girlfriend. It was the second Thanksgiving for the boys, a feeling you knew all too well as your parents divorced at a young age. You were in the kitchen, washing off the dirty dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. "You didn't have to do that," Wanda said, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed. She was wearing a maroon dress with long sleeves that came to the middle of her thighs. She was beautiful.

"Of course I do," you said. "You cooked, I cleaned, it's only fair." She smiled at you before grabbing two wine glasses and filling them with a red wine you brought. She jumped onto the counter, slowly sipping her wine as she watched you. Once you were done and the dishwasher was running, you grabbed your glass and moved between Wanda's legs. You took a sip. "Were the boys excited to go to their father's?" You asked. Wanda sighed.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I think so." You put her glass down and placed your hands on her thighs. This was the first holiday the twins had to experience with divorced parents.

"The first holiday is hard." You smiled. "But it gets easier, I promise." You kissed her forehead. You met Wanda 10 months ago while walking out of a coffee shop on your way to a meeting for your company. As you left the shop, someone ran into you, spilling your coffee all over you. Your outfit was ruined, and on any other day, you would be upset, but you were distracted by the beauty of the woman in front of you. She was frantically trying to clean up the mess. You told her not to worry about it and asked her for dinner. "So," you took another sip of your wine. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night, my love?" You asked, kissing her cheek and down her neck. You made sure not to leave marks on her skin. Her breathing hitched.

"I see you have some ideas." You smiled against her skin.

"Can you blame me?" You asked, looking at her. "The food was delicious, but I was hungry for something else the entire time." You loved making her blush. Wanda was incredibly self-conscious of her body since giving birth to the twins. It didn't help that Vision rarely gave her attention after she gave birth. But my god, you were in love with her body. You found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself in front of her kids. Wanda smiled, biting her lip.

"You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world," you kissed her softly, taking her glass out of her hand. You lifted her. She gasped at the sudden movement and put her hands around your neck.

"It's because you are. Let me show you."

To your surprise, you woke up to an empty bed. You were always the first one up because you had clients in different time zones. But you made sure to take the day after Thanksgiving off so you could cuddle with your girlfriend. Her side of the bed was cold. You sat up, stretched your arms over your head, and glanced at the clock. It was 0730. You sighed and got out of bed. You put on shorts and a sweatshirt to look for Wanda.

She wasn't hard to find as you stepped into the kitchen, hunched over a notebook, a calculator, and her checkbook. You walked up behind her on quiet feet, wrapping your arms around her. She was tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. "I wanted more cuddles." You pouted. Your girlfriend chuckled, turning around to face you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you loved when she spoke in her native tongue. It was incredibly sexy.

"Why are you up so early? You don't have to be at work till 5. She was working the evening shift at a 24-hour diner. You saw the stress and worry in her features. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing I can't handle." She said. Yeah, that wasn't going to fly. Early in your relationship, she hid everything from you because Vision was never there for her. You weren't his biggest fan.

"Hey, don't keep things to yourself. Remember, we are a team." She sighed.

"I'm worried about money," she confessed. "With the holidays coming up, I just hope I can give the boys a good holiday with everything they've been through." You hummed, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry this isn't your problem."

"Hey," you spun her around from the table. "I love those boys like they are my own. We will figure it out." She shook her head, biting her lip.

"I'm their mother," she firmly said. "I do not need your help." You nodded.

"Okay," you smiled, rubbing your hands up and down her arms. "But can we cuddle some more, please?" You pouted. Your girlfriend rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Yes, we can, but," she kissed you softly. "Please forget about this, okay? I don't need you spoiling us." You kissed her forehead, and she led you back to her room, promising you would forget it.

So you were struggling to keep your promise. Every time your mind had a spare moment, you thought about Wanda hunched over her checkbook, trying to make ends meet. You knew Vision was paying the bare minimum of child support when he could afford more. But you felt trapped. It was in your nature to help those you loved and cared for. Your second-grade teacher, who allowed you to spend your lunch in her classroom because you were trying to work through your parent's divorce, needed money for hip surgery - you donated the rest of the amount to her fund. Your high school coach was in a car accident - you bought him a new one. Your secretary was diagnosed with breast cancer - you covered the medical expenses and other bills that came up. You were fortunate to be in the position you were in. You had enough money and wanted to give it all to Wanda and the twins.

However, it was early on in your relationship that Wanda wasn't with you for the money. She fought you on paying for her share of the bill, refused any gift, and never asked to help with bills. On the one hand, it made you love the mother of two more because you had your fair share of partners who took advantage of your status. Conversely, you wanted to spoil the small family if only she would let you.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Natasha asked as she opened the door to your office. The Russian was your second in command, your best friend, the sister who always wanted. Her family lived next to your father, and when it was his weekend, you would spend more time at Natasha's house than at his. Melina helped you get emancipated at 15 since you were done being a pawn in your parent's game. It was around that time you and Natasha tried dating; you were better off as friends - family. She set a stack of papers on your desk. Ugh, you hated being the boss. "Speak. I got other things to do on my list."

"Jeez, thanks," you stood up. "You got time for a drink."

"I guess I could make time in my busy schedule." Typical. You chuckled and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "Damn, we are drinking the good stuff," she took off her jacket and draped it on the back of the chair before sitting down. "Is this about Wanda? I like her. She is so much better than Sharon." You rolled your eyes, pouring the alcohol into the two glasses and giving one of them to her. No one liked Sharon. "Cheers." You hit your glass against hers and sat down.

"Wanda is having financial troubles," you swirled the amber liquid in the glass before taking a sip. "She worries about the holidays but won't let me. She's stubborn." You loved her, but she would work herself to death to provide for her boys.

"You are stubborn, too; it makes sense why you fit so well together," you flipped her off. "So she won't let you spoil her or the boys with things."

"Yes! I have all this money. What's the point if I can't spoil my girlfriend," Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was quiet, biting the inside of her cheek. You knew that she was thinking.

"So don't spoil them with things. Give them an experience. Bring them to the cabin up north," she suggested. "All you have to do is provide the food and sex."

"That is," you paused. It was a good idea. The cabin was built on some property you bought in Upstate New York. The three-bedroom, 2.5-bath sat on 16 acres of land with a private pond perfect for ice skating. You allowed close friends to use it year-round. You could take them ice skating and sledding; if you were lucky, the Northern Lights would appear. "Not a bad idea."

"That's why you keep me around," she finished her drink. "Just bring it up to her and let me know she says. Because if you aren't going to use it," Natasha stood up. "I will use it." You finished your drink and placed the two dirty glasses on the shelf behind you to be cleaned later. You chuckled.

"Are you going to take Bucky?" You questioned. She smirked.

"Him and possibly Steve, make things interesting," you cringed, grabbing the pile of paper she brought in.

"I'd have to burn down the cabin if you three spent a weekend there," you deadpanned. The redhead flipped you off.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman and always clean up after myself."

"Get out of here, you pervert, before I have to file an HR report," she waved and opened the door. "Nat," she stopped at the sound of her name. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," she smiled. "You'd do the same thing for me."

You were a little nervous as you sat on the edge of your bed and waited for Wanda. The twins were with Vision, so after her shift, she came over. She was in the bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed. You wanted to ask her sooner rather than later, but your stomach was in knots. What if she hated the idea? What if she thought you were being pushy and broke up with you? That would destroy you. "Baby," you turned to face your girlfriend's voice. She was drying her hair and wearing a shirt that was too big for her and came down to her thighs. "Are you okay?"

Sometimes, when you looked at Wanda, your brain short-circuited. She was so beautiful. Vision was an idiot, but hey, his loss was your gain. Your girlfriend smirked, threw the towel back in the bathroom, and walked over to you. She stood in front of you before straddling your waist. Immediately, your hands went to her thighs, massaging them. "Where have you been all night?" She asked, tracing the lines on your forehead. "I feel like you've been a million miles away." You sighed, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, my brain is all over the place."

"Can I help?" She whispered, kissing your cheek. "You work so hard." Her lips trailed down your neck and nibbled on a sensitive spot below your ear. "You help so many people," Wanda began playing with the bottom of your shirt, hands grazing your stomach and flexing your muscles. "Let me take care of you," her lips ghosted over yours. "Please." You groaned; the hold you had on your thighs tightened. She was going to be the death of you. There was a voice in the back of your mind screaming to give in, to have this talk later. But it couldn't wait. Using your strength, you flipped her over. She landed on her back and would have bounced off if you weren't holding onto her. Your face was in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Vanilla. Lavender. Fresh linen.

"As much as I want to," you said. "We need to talk about something." She touched your cheek and forced you to look at her. Her green eyes were filled with worry. "It's nothing bad. It's about the holiday season." She huffed, dropped her hand, and sat up. You were forced on your knees.

"And I thought I told you to forget about it."

"I know, I know," you sat up on your knees to be between her legs. "But you know how I am, baby," she rolled her eyes, and you took her hands in yours. "Just I came up with a compromise if you'll listen." She sighed but nodded. "I know you said you don't need my help, and I don't want to help," you added quickly. "However, I want to treat you and the twins. I own a cabin in Upstate New York, and we could go there for a few days after Christmas. It will cost me nothing besides food and the gas to drive up there," Wanda was giving you her classic 'mom look' when the twins said something she didn't like. "It has a hot tub," you said, trailing your fingers up and down her thigh. You liked the way goosebumps formed.

"No presents."

"3 presents," you countered. "2 for the boys and 1 for you." She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"You can't get us anything for Hanukkah then." You groaned. Dammit, you wanted to get them something. But you had to compromise.

"Deal," you smiled. "So," your hands went to her waist. She didn't slap them away, so you figured it was good. "Are we going?" She was fighting to keep the smile from forming on her face; she was forced to bite her lip.

"Yes, we can go. I'll discuss it with Vision." She said. SHE SAID YES!

"Wooo," you cheered, picking her up, moving her to the middle of the bed, and attacking her face with kisses. Her laughter was infectious. She pushed her away, and you turned on your side, head resting on your hand. Wanda's cheeks were pink, and she was slightly out of breath. "You are going to love it there," you told her. "It's beautiful and quiet. The boys can have their room if they want. That reminds me, the place could use a good cleaning. I'll call the service tomorrow. What do we want to do for dinner? Oh! I'll get the place decorated and-"

"Baby," Wanda cut you off with a playful smile. "We have a few weeks. No need to rush everything."

"I know," you brought her into your arms. "I'm just very excited." She giggled.

"Yeah, so am I."

"Boys, are you sure you have everything?" Their mother asked for the third time since picking them up at Vision's. It was Christmas. The four of you spent a quiet morning of breakfast and gift unwrapping; the gifts you got were at the cabin. Then you brought the boys to Vision's so Wanda could do some last-minute packing. The look on the man's face was hilarious when he opened the door, not expecting to see you. Thankfully, the twins excitedly ran off toward the Christmas tree, preventing awkward or hateful interactions. You drove home to spend a few hours alone with Wanda before returning to their father's.

"Yes, Mom," they said in unison, but they were already engrossed in what movie they would watch on the TV. Their jaws dropped when they saw them on the back of the driver and passenger seats. Wanda was in the trunk, reorganizing the back to fit the stuff they wanted to bring they got from their father. You rounded the back and saw Vision from the front door, a smirk on his face as he watched his ex-wife struggle. You were quick to kiss her, keeping your eyes on the man. He turned around and went back inside.

"If they forgot something, I have extra of everything," you rearranged the back and closed the trunk. "No stress, right?"

"Right, no stress." You smiled and walked to the driver's seat.

"Boys, are you ready?" You asked and fastened your seat belt.

"Yes!" They cheered. You were surprised they were excited to go. They spent a few days reading up on the wildlife they might encounter. You smiled, watching the boys put on their headphones and hit play. Wanda got in, getting settled with a blanket and a few necessary road trip snacks. You started the car and began the drive with your hand on Wanda's thigh.

The drive to the cabin was your favorite, especially in the winter. The mountain views were blanketed in the snow. Trees that lost their leaves but told a different story. It was so quiet, too, a stark contrast to the city. There were about 30 minutes left of the drive; you were taking it slow as the roads weren't the best. Billy and Tommy were fast asleep, and Wanda played with the rings in your hand. You told her she didn't need to stay up, but she told you she was okay. "Why did you buy property out here?" She asked, keeping her voice low. "I feel like you could have brought property anywhere.' You chuckled; she wasn't wrong, and you have thought about it - a house in Florida on the beach, a French villa in the countryside, anywhere. You sighed.

"When I first realized I could afford anything, I wanted a cabin like this," you told her. "My mother had one when she was younger, and before the divorce, we would go, but a fire destroyed it. In my delusion, I thought if I bought one, we could be a family again," you shrugged. "Obliviously, it didn't work." You hated your parents, but a part of you was desperate for their love and acceptance.

"When was the last time you spoke with them?" She asked.

"About three years ago," you answered. "Mom needed some money, so I gave it to her," your girlfriend shook her head. "What is it?"

"Your heart is too big for this world," she kissed the back of your hand. Natasha and her family would say the same thing. However, they would say that's how you would get hurt.

"Are we there yet?" Billy groaned from the back. You chuckled.

"Almost, buddy, about 15 minutes." You said with a smile.

"I'm hungry," this time it was Tommy. Wanda rolled her eyes. That boy was always hungry.

"I'll cook us something when we get there, but first, we have to bring our stuff inside."

"And open presents," you added on quickly. The twins woke up more at the mention of presents.

"Presents are waiting for us!" Billy excitedly said. You nodded.

"Of course. It's still Christmas!"

"There better be only three presents under that tree," Wanda gave you a stern look.

"I only bought three presents," you said. She looked like she did not believe you. "I promise! That was our deal!" You stood by it, but the people you worked for didn't make that promise. "Babe, it's fine."

You parked the car, and before you could speak with the family, they were out of the car to look at the cabin. Smiling, you got out yourself. It did look better in real life than in the pictures. You hired some people to come out and decorate the cabin. It was perfect with the freshly powered snow; lights hung on the roof, and the trees outside. There were some Christmas-themed blowups out front. Wanda looked at you. "You did all of this for us?" She questioned. You shrugged.

"It was nothing," you smiled, scratching your head.

"Boys, grab your stuff," Wanda instructed her kids. The twins grabbed their backpacks and suitcases and ran for the door, kicking up the snow as they went. You grabbed your bag, and Wanda's before joining them. There was other stuff in the car, but that could wait. The twins were bouncing on their heels as you typed in the code and opened the door. "Oh my god," Wanda whispered. It was like a Hallmark movie threw up in the cabin. There were more lights and wreaths, and a Christmas tree was at the center of it all. You should have given them a limit.

"Presents!" Tommy yelled, running over to the tree. So, there were more than three underneath the tree. Boxes were stacked high around it.

"Is this all for us?" Billy asked, looking back at you. You ruffled his hair.

"A majority of it is. I think there are a few for your mom and me," you said as you looked back at their mother, whose arms were crossed. Oh, she was pissed. "Boys, go pick out your room. Down the hall." Tommy stood up, looking between you and his mom.

"Are you in trouble?" He whispered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "Now go." They were quick to grab their things and run off. "It wasn't me," you said when they were out of earshot.

"I said three presents."

"I did buy 3," you paused. "Well, technically 4, but I bought it for myself." You quickly closed the distance between you and her. Her arms were still crossed, but she allowed you to wrap your arms around her. "All of these gifts are from my coworkers; you know they love the boys just as much as I do." There were rare times when you needed to pick up the boys from school when Vision or Wanda's schedules would line up differently. Since you were the boss, it was easier for you to leave. You brought them back to your office until Vision or Wanda could pick them up. Everyone loved them. You would find them with Yelena or Natasha in their office, Bucky in the cafeteria, or Shuri in the lab. When they asked what the family wanted for Christmas, you couldn't tell them nothing. It was in your nature to spoil people, so if you couldn't do it, you might as well have your coworkers do the dirty work. "Baby," you took her cheeks in your hands. "You and the boys deserve a wonderful stress-free Christmas with the year you three had. If I can provide the space and have others spoil you," you glanced at the tree. "They did go over the top. I'll talk to them." She giggled and placed her hands on top of yours. "I'll do it. You deserve the world; let me give it to you the next few days," she sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. You felt her tears on your shirt.

"Okay," her voice was so soft. "Thank you." You kissed the top of her head.

"You're welcome. Now," you whipped away her tears. "We have some very excited kids that want to open presents." You saw the boys peek their heads around the corner. Wanda laughed.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get going."

Growing up, you dreamed of having a family vacation like this one. As soon as Tommy and Billy were up with bellies filled with breakfast, the fun would begin - ice skating on the pond, sledding on the hill, and winter hikes in the surrounding woods. But also snowball fights, lots of them. You saw the northern lights at night and a little wildlife in the backyard, and you flew the drones you got the boys for Christmas. When they were asleep, you would draw a bath for Wanda, sit by the fireplace in the master, or take a dip in the hot tub. It was perfect; you'd never seen your girlfriend this relaxed. She was smiling, laughing, and more carefree. Even the boys noticed the change in their mother.

At last, all vacations must end; it was your last night at the cabin. Wanda cooked a fantastic dinner; you refused her help with every meal, so you knew she was itching to get back in the kitchen. Then it was smores around the fire and one final movie night. You were putting Billy to bed; the poor kid was falling asleep halfway through the movie. The sound of your name from the sleepy boy made you stop and turn around. "What's up, bud?" You asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. If his eyes weren't opened, you would have thought he fell back to sleep.

"Are you going to marry my mom?" You fought your jaw dropping and thanked all your years of being CEO to keep a straight face.

"I'd like to," you said honestly. You never liked lying, especially to kids. You were often on the receiving end of the lies from your parents. "Is that okay with you and your brother?" He nodded quickly, and a weight you didn't realize was on your shoulders was lifted.

"I like you, and you make Mom smile," he frowned slightly. "My dad doesn't like you." You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'm aware, but that's not gonna stop me from being with your mom, okay?" He nodded and sat up, staring down at his hands.

"They fought a lot," he admitted. "They tried not to do it in front of us, but we still heard it." Oh, you knew that feeling well. They were lucky to have each other. "I don't like fighting. Dad and his new girlfriend fight sometimes, too," you weren't aware of that. You wondered if Wanda knew.

"Do you like her?" The boy shrugged.

"She's okay, not as nice as you," that made you smile. "She just kind of ignored us when we are there." You hated some of the partners your parents ended up with.

"Look at me," he slowly did. "I want you to know that you and your brother can always come to me. You are part of my family." Billy smiled.

"Thank you," he hugged you.

"Always," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "Get some sleep." He played back down.

"Goodnight."

"Night, buddy," you turned off the overhead lights and closed the door. Wanda was in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea. "Is Tommy asleep?" You asked, wrapping your arms around her waist. She nodded.

"He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow," you chuckled, kissing her shoulder. "You were in there awhile with Billy; everything okay?"

"Yup," you popped the 'p' at the end of the word. She spun around, back against the counter, and tilted her head at you. She was a mind reader; you swore by it. "We were just talking about you and me. The boys like me." She rolled her eyes.

"I could have told you that." You laughed.

"So it's our last night here; what do you want to do?" She bite her lip, moving her head from side to side.

"You know," she trailed her hand up and down your chest. "I haven't gotten my Christmas present yet."

"And I thought you didn't want me to get you anything," she shrugged, smiling.

"You got a girl curious," you smiled, took her free hand, and led her into the master.

"Sit and close your eyes," she did as she was told and sipped on her tea. You weren't sure why you were so nervous to give it to her. Every time you went to bring it out of its hiding place, your anxiety got the better of you. You returned to the bed with a small jewelry box and bag. You set them next to her. "You can open your eyes." She did and handed you the mug. "Open the bag first," you told her, placing the mug on the side table. Wanda slowly opened the bag, pulling out the tissue paper.

"Lingerie," she laughed, taking the maroon pieces out. You smirked. "I can't believe it." You shrugged, kneeling in front of her.

"I told you I bought something for me," you chuckled against her neck. "I want to buy some lingerie for my girlfriend. Sue me," she shook her head and pushed you away slightly. You pouted as she returned the clothes to the bag and picked up the jewelry box. "If you hate it, I can return it and get you something else," you added. She opened the box.

Her green eyes shun with unshed tears. It was a necklace with four gems - each was a birthstone representing her parents, brother, and boys. "I know we don't talk about your parents or Pietro a lot, but I wanted to get you something so they'll always be with you," you explained. "If I overstepped, I can-" she surged forward. You caught her body trembling slightly as she cried.

"It's perfect," she said. "So perfect." She sat back on the bed. "Can you put it on?" You took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She was quick to go to the bathroom to look at it. While she was gone, you sat on the bed. When she was done, she came out and sat on your lap. You got major deja vu when you told her about your Christmas plans. "I don't deserve you," she whispered, kissing your cheek. "Thank you for the gift, this trip, and everything you've done for me and the twins. What Billy asked you rang in your head - 'Are you going to marry my mom?' You squeezed her thighs, and she looked at you.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Wanda Maximoff," she let out a surprised squeak from the back of her throat. "One day, you'll never have to do anything, not worry about money or bills. You could sit at home all day for all I care."

"I'd get bored," she said. "I could never be a housewife." There was something about the way she said housewife that put a chill down your spine.

"You won't have to be one," you smiled, tickling her sides and spine. She shivered. "You could go back to school and become a teacher like you wanted to, be a writer or painter, or go to culinary school. Anything you want as long as you are mine," Wanda chuckled, moving her fingers through your hair and tilting your head back.

"You got this all figured out, huh?" She teased. "Do you think about marrying me a lot?" You weren't sure how to tell her you've thought about it since she ran into you at the coffee shop. Your silence must have been telling because she threw her head back in a laugh. "I haven't even said yes yet." Your jaw dropped slightly.

"You would say yes," you said slowly. She shrugged, got off your lap, and grabbed the bag.

"You'll have to ask."

"I'll buy the ring," she stopped on her way to the bathroom, threw a wink over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her. Groaning, you fell onto your back. That woman was going to be the death of you in the best possible way.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine

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xwritingdixonx · 1 year

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 1 |

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series masterlist

Summary: Daryl struggles to call Alexandria his new home, a bitterness lying in his heart of his late wife.

Warnings: language, slight mentions of a panic attack, mentions of grief / loss

Word Count: approx. 3.3k

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The cherry wood coffee table was littered with a messy stack of UNO cards, the last card being a bright yellow, reading the number 7. Carl paused for a second looking at the cards in his hand that he held before putting down a green 7. "No fair" Tara retorted reaching to grab a card. "I'm winning" Carl teased wearing a shit eating grin, showing off the two cards left in his hand.

Aaron had stopped by a little bit ago dropping off a deck of cards, a puzzle, and a pack of UNO cards that looked like they’d never touched a speck of dust. Carl and Noah were quick to choose UNO. Tara looking just as excited to play the game, convincing Rosita to also join.

It was only the second night in Alexandria but Rick couldn't help but smile for just a second, seeing his son playing games, laughing, making jokes. Had he not still been so on edge and his walls so built up, it could've felt normal, comfortable. The rest of the group sat around the same living room, some comfortably lounging on their sleeping bags and pillows, others on the couch, making jokes about who they were rooting for.

"You know, me and my friends used to do this"

Tara began, "we'd uh-" Tara smiled and paused for a second "have game nights, order a pizza, just talk. Like people." Tara chuckled but there was a hint of sadness to it. "Oh god i miss pizza!" Rosita joined in, attempting to tear Tara away from the sadness.

"I’d come home smelling like it every. day. Makes me sick just thinking about it" Glenn's face lit up with a smile.

Soon almost everyone in the room was sharing things they missed about the old world, things that would most likely never exist again or would be extremely difficult to achieve now.

Daryl however was perched up by the window, the cool night air flowing in once in awhile. Daryl was trying to figure out just how cold the breeze was, the colder it was, the closer Fall was, then after Fall came Winter. Out on the road Winter meant trouble, it was the hardest season to survive in the wild. But that wasn't a worry now. So Daryl didn't know why he was still worrying.

"Daryl"

Glenn's voice broke him from his thoughts, snapping his head around to look at him. "Hm?"

"What do you miss?" Glenn looked at him with pure intentions just wanting to know a bit more about the man, as did everyone else. Daryl was so closed off. Some days it felt as if he wasn't even alive before the outbreak, it was like the world ended and poof, Daryl Dixon appeared, ready to take it on. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on him now, anticipating a response. Which, to no surprise, Daryl didn't particularly like. Daryl scoffed and turned his attention back to the window, resting his head on his fist "Nothin'".

Daryl heard Glenn quietly apologize before continuing the conversation with someone else. Once again, Daryl retracted back and away from connection, sheltering himself like a turtle in a shell.

What do you miss? Daryl knew the answer, it was on the tip of his tongue. He just couldn't bare say it, couldn't let himself slip into that hole. You were a memory he had pushed so far back in his mind, it was as if you never existed in the first place. That's how he survived, forgetting you. If not, he would've fallen in that hole of depression and grief a long time ago. So instead of that, he built up walls. Built a wall of brick. Then built a wall of steel in front of that one and he allowed himself to hide behind those walls, angry and alone.

It just took one thought of you to completely blow a hole straight through those walls. Every single thing that the group listed made him think of you. Didn't matter what it was.

Tara bringing up pizza made him think about your favorite pizza spot that had $1 slices. He still remembers the day he watched you down 4 slices after a long Saturday night shift at the bar.

He thought about you when Rosita talked about missing makeup and feeling pretty. You were the prettiest thing Daryl had ever seen especially when you got all dolled up. He remembered your signature lip colors, remembered the brand, the name of them, remembered how pretty they looked on you.

"i don't get it" Daryl heard your distant laughter from the bathroom down the hall. You came walking throw the door, clipping your silver chain bracelet around your wrist. "What don't you get?" Daryl looked at the lip product in his hand, encased in silver packaging "the hell's it called black honey? ain't even black"

You shook your head at Daryl and snatched the product from his hand, taking a seat on his lap. Daryl happily wrapped his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder. "Because it's-" you let out a sigh and took the cap off glancing at the dark plum tinted lip product. "Jesus i don't know D." You put the cap back on with a click, glancing at him through some of your bangs that had fallen in your eyes. " Before i forget" You left Daryl's grasp and made your way to your wooden vanity, "On your way home from the shop," You grabbed 2 small black tubes from the surface and tossed them over to Daryl. "Please please pick up those exact same shades from the store" Daryl recognized what they were immediately, flipping them around to see the name on the bottom. "Rum raisin and black cherry?" You hummed to him in response, "from Revlon?" you hummed an agreeing response again. "Good job handsome"

Daryl remembered everything that made you so uniquely you. Cherry perfume, tattoos, the silver jewelry you wore every single day. Those damn lipsticks, he never forget those ridiculous names. Your hair, god your hair. You had the most gorgeous head of hair, so full and thick. And that smile. When you smiled, your whole face smiled. You got complimented almost every single day on your appearance, not even just from Daryl, from strangers who saw just how gorgeous you were.

His chest tighten and ached, as if his heart was physically hurting. Hands clasping into fists to stop them from shaking. And his mind, spiraling. He could feel the lump in his throat form, the lump of tears, sobs. He cleared his throat and abruptly got up from his perch, racing to the front door. He couldn't stand to be in that room any longer, he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat himself down at the top of the stoop to the house and shakily tried to light a cigarette to forget about his racing mind, taking a long drag. Sitting in fresh air seemed to immediately calm him but the sadness still remained.

Daryl didn't look to see who sat beside him but he heard the creek of the wood panels and felt the presence. "What's going on?" Ricks words were low, as if he was asking him in a whisper. Daryl blew the last bit of smoke from his mouth and and flicked the cigarette away, that's when Daryl broke. The emotions he was trying so hard to push down just over poured at the question. Quiet sobs broke past Daryl's lips, hanging his head low in shame at the vulnerable state he was in.

Rick put a hand on his back to show he was there, giving him comfort through his presence. Rick didn't know what was making Daryl break but he knew he had to be there for his brother, allowing him feel whatever he needed to feel.

"I miss 'er"

Rick wasn't exactly sure what to say, he just nodded. Not once had Daryl ever brought up someone, especially not a woman. "Wanna talk bout' her?"

Daryl thought for a second, he had never been asked to talk about you. He knew he could, could talk about you till the sun rose in the East and set again in the West. But all he could say was "i'on know". He looked at Rick his eyes still glassy with tears.

Rick nodded at him again and gave him a reassuring smile.

Silence settled over the 2 men but it was comfortable, a calmness the night air provided. Daryl had calmed down, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sudden outburst of emotions. Thinking of what the rest of the group members might be thinking of him now.

Rick was lost in thought, it had just been a tiny detail but it opened up so much about Daryl as a person. He had someone, someone he cared for and they obviously weren't here. It explained some of Daryl's intense behavior at times, explained the way his anger led him, and his passion for saving people.

"What was her name?" Rick was testing the waters, seeing if there were anymore details he could get out about this now mystery woman. She could've been his girlfriend, his best friend, hell could've been his goddamn sister. The way the corner of Daryl's mouth almost turned into a smile told Rick that the waters were warm. "Y/n"

The next bit was what set Rick back, definitely not on the list of could've's.

"My uh...my wife."

Memories and nightmares had become a blur to you. At this point, they were practically under the same category. Both equally as haunting. Both equally creating a shallow feeling in your chest. Both keeping you up at night. Just like it had been tonight, the events of the previous day still haunting you. You never thought you were exactly a good person but you could at least try to justify your actions. Racking your brain for hours and nothing. Not one excuse, not one good reason for why you pulled the trigger and why so quickly? You opened your eyes, trying to not allow yourself to fall into that hole any deeper.

You had been in and out of sleep the entire night. Hearing the crickets and lightning bugs turn into early chirp of birds in the early morning. Most of the night you'd spent laid your side watching the fire from the previous night turn from orange glowing embers to nothing but black ash and coal. The only thing exciting you at the moment was getting back to your kitchen in Alexandria.

To be able to cook whatever you wanted and not having to survive off of canned goods, beef jerky, and protein bars. You had promised everyone when you all made it back home you'd cook up a nice big dinner and you'd all sit around the table like how it used to be. It was the longest the group had been away from Alexandria since arriving.

The sun hadn't quite risen yet but it would soon, the sky becoming a light blue- gray color. That's when you called it quits with attempting to catch anymore sleep, you wouldn't and you knew that. Everyone else would be up soon anyway and you'd be hitting the road again. Alexandria was only few more hours out but after what happened, everyone needed to rest. The group could've easily made it there late at night but decided it was okay to make it there by early afternoon today. You let out a deep sigh and sat yourself up, stretching out your arms and back.

You spotted Tommy who was in the same spot as he was the night before, sat up on the tailgate of one of the trucks from his turn on night watch. You slipped your leather steel toe boots on and made your way to him, deciding to give the both of you some company. "Heard ya comin'" Tommy's southern drawl never failed to amaze you, he didn't look like he'd sound like that but he sure did. When people met Tommy for the first time, the faces they'd pull were comedic. Especially the people of Alexandria.

You let out a scoff as you made your way up onto the road that was a few feet away from where you had set up camp for the night.

“Heard ya all night actually" You hopped up on the truck, taking your place next to Tommy and comfortably resting your elbows on your knees. "Was it bad?" You asked looking at him slightly embarrassed. Tommy knew you struggled with sleeping, he had been there to deal with most of it.

Since being in Alexandria it wasn't as bad as when you were on the road, almost like your body knew it wasn't in your safe comfy bed anymore. Tommy looked at you and gave you a soft smile and shook his head. "You weren't shaking or breathing heavy or doing that teeth grinding shit, just heard ya tossin' and turnin' all night"

You were listening to Tommy but watching the point in the sky where the sun was going to be peeking up at any second now. "Hey" Tommy nudged your arm with the back of his hand, pulling you away from zoning out and thinking too much. You averted your gaze to Tommy, "wasn't your fault". You scoffed a laugh and looked away, your eyes wondered to where everyone else still lay asleep in their sleeping bags. Specifically your eldest brother.

"Tell that to Eddie"

You and Eddie had been going at it over the past few months. You weren't exactly sure why and how it started but at this point, you didn't make it through a day without some sort of dispute or sarcastic remarks.

You heard Tommy sigh and put down the sniper rifle he had been holding.

“We got a lot of good stuff. Especially with winter coming. I mean shit, look at this." Tommy was trying to change the subject, make it seem more positive. You sat up and looked over your shoulder. The trucks bed behind you was piled high with crates and boxes, some bigger stuff just lying around. Like a Kitchen- Aid mixer, which you already called dibs on. The other truck that was parked next to this one was the exact same way.

None of you expected the run to go this well. You had found weapons, food, clothes, kitchen appliances, medicine, books, and so much more. There was so much that you actually had to leave some stuff behind. Hidden. Of course. But you still slipped in a few things for Jace and Luke. "We're gonna have to come back for the rest soon" You commented, receiving a nod of agreement from Tommy. "We got the whole route mapped out right?"

"Yes ma'am"

"Good" You and Tommy made eye contact and smiled at each other. The sound of shuffling made you both break contact, looking back to see the other 3 waking up and beginning to pack up. Nellie caught your eye and gave you a wave and a sleepy smile to say Goodmorning, you returning one. You made eye contact with Eddie who, in return, shot you a stone face glare.

Once everyone had packed up, it was time to hit the road. You drove one truck with Nellie in the passenger seat. Tommy drove the other, with Eddie and Henry squeezed in the front. The sun was at its peek in the sky when the gates of Alexandria came into view. You beeped the car horn twice giving whoever was on watch the signal to open up the gates. The 2 trucks came to a rolling stop safely inside the walls of Alexandria. "Home sweet home" You remarked, taking the keys out of the ignition.

The closing of the trucks doors rang in your ears as everyone stepped foot on the concrete. You saw Deanna making her way down the road to the group with a blissful smile on her face and pep in her step. "Wonder what she did now" Henry sarcastically remarked, quickly going to the bed of the truck to help begin unloading, Eddie right behind him.

"Thank goodness!" She planted her hands on her hips, taking stand in front of you, "you should've been back last night did something happen?"

The sun was glaring directly in your eyes so you tried your best to smile at her while also shielding your face from it. "No, we just got tired so we set up camp a few miles out" You did your best to reassure her, Deanna worried about your family probably more than she worried about her own. Alexandria relied on your group. And she relied on you.

"The run went amazing Deanna" Nellie joined putting a reassuring hand on Deanna's arm. "Well I can tell!" She threw her hands up gesturing to the full trucks behind you, "I mean look at this, this is more than we expected" The smile that beamed on her face showed that she truly was in a joyful mood. But there was something else there, a slight hesitation in her eyes. There was something she wasn't saying.

"Dad!"

Before you could begin to question Deanna, Luke's sweet voice rang through out the air. Luke was jogging towards Tommy with a excited look on his face. Tommy's face lit up at the sight of his son, his eyes widening and a smile forming. Jace and Cecilia weren't far behind him also coming to give everyone a welcome and looking equally as ecstatic.

A sense of relief washed over you, all your worries and racing thoughts vanishing in that moment. Cecilia welcomed you and Nellie into a tight embrace, wrapping one arm around either of you. "I'm so glad you're okay" She planted a kiss on both you and Nellie's cheeks, earning a laugh from both of you.

Oh, Cecilia. Sweet sweet Cecilia with her dark brown curly hair, big emerald eyes, and dimples. She had been the one to offer to stay with Jace and Luke while the rest of you were away, she didn't like being on the road and fighting. Not that she couldn't do it because she could, you'd seen her. She just chose not to.

"We got these for you, we went over the walls...with Cecilia. I hope that was alright" Luke timidly handed you a bunch of wildflowers tied together by grass. "Ah haha! These look like the perfect ones" Your voice sweet and smooth giving Luke a wide smile, reassuring him that you weren't upset with them.

Luke was shy and stuttered when he'd talk but he was also the kindest and softest spoken person you knew. His brown curly hair and dimples in his pale cheeks added to his soft composure. Jace, on the other hand, was older, taller, and had lost most of his baby face. He still sported the signature curly brown hair. "Come here, sweet boys" It was your turn to embrace them both in a warm hug.

Neither of them were quite as tall as you yet but Jace seemed to be getting there. Most days it seemed like you were eye level with him.

"Did you get your father some?" Glancing over at Tommy, he held up his bunch of flowers. His were shades of blues, greens, and whites. While the bunch Nellie and you were given we're shades of white, purple, and yellow.

"Boys"

You had forgotten Deanna was there, getting too wrapped up in your conversation.

"Why don't you help unload the trucks? I’ll go grab you guys notepads so you can help" Deanna meant well, she always did but you and Tommy expressed that you didn't want Jace or Luke in any of the dirty work the rest of the group did. They're children, they deserved to be children. They had already been through enough. But they still had responsibilities around Alexandria and training. You looked at Tommy for approval who gave you a nod. "Walk with me Y/n"

So you did. Walking side by side. Some days you felt like you towered over Deanna because of her small height. If someone saw you walking together they would think you were in charge, not her.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?"

"We brought in a group" She didn't miss a beat, as if she was waiting for you to begin questioning her.

"What?" You stopped dead in your tracks at the bottom of the steps to the pantry, she had already made it to the top of the steps with her foot in the door when she turned around and smiled at you. "Yeah a group of 15" She disappeared into the pantry "Of what ?!" You were hot on her tail, stomping your way up the stairs and swinging open the door but you still muttered a polite hello to Olivia as you passed her.

Deanna sighed and turned to face you. "This is their third day here, Aaron tracked them for a week to make sure they could be trusted" She tried to reassure you but it wasn't working. That was a big group. Bigger than your group. "Deanna that's a lot of people, you don't know them."

She ignored you, turning her attention to a stack of memo books. The memo books were used to count and write down everything that was brought into Alexandria from trips. Everything was documented and accounted for so if anything was stolen or taken out, it would be known. She picked up a black one and blue one, along with 2 black pens.

"We need the man power Y/n. I appreciate everything your family has done for Alexandria but its too much and you know that. The entire group was gone for 2 weeks, what if something had happened? No one was here to protect Alexandria. You need the weight off your shoulders and I need it off mine."

You knew deep down she was right. Your group held all the responsibility in Alexandria, they relied on you. Even though most of them hated you, the ones that listened to all the gossip at least. Deanna could see the mixture of doubt and worry on your features, the way your eyebrows crinkled and your lips turned to a frown. "Go home, get cleaned up, i'll be waiting at mine and we can talk more, alright?"

"Alright."

#daryl x you #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x y/n

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lol-jackles · 3 months

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So apparently, per a CE email, they are full on rebranding the 2024 SPN Con Tour as Jensen's:

We have some thrilling news to share with all of our fellow fans of The Boys! Creation is excited to present The Road So Far… The Road Ahead 2024 Tour, featuring none other than Jensen Ackles, who plays Soldier Boy in the hit Amazon Prime series. This is a special opportunity for fans to come together and celebrate Jensen Ackles' iconic role as Dean Winchester in Supernatural, as well as his new role in The Boys franchise. PLUS, we have more amazing SPN guests on the tour, including Misha Collins ("Castiel"), Jared Padalecki ("Sam Winchester") -- and Jeffrey Dean Morgan ("John Winchester") and Rob Benedict ("Chuck/God"), who will be joining The Boys cast in the upcoming Season 4! Watch the trailer for Season 4 above! Whether you're a longtime fan of Jensen or a new admirer, join us for a weekend filled with panel discussions, meet and greets, photo opportunities, autograph sessions, exclusive merchandise, and more. It’s the perfect chance to connect with your fellow fans and immerse yourself in the world of Supernatural and more. Don't miss out on a wild adventure! Click here and mark your calendars for your favorite destination. Your "The Boys are back!" friends at Creation Entertainment

So now Jared is included in the "amazing SPN guests"??? F*ck off. I know he isn't doing them all but this is just… a low blow tbh. This feels like CE's 'f*ck you' to Jared for branching out and essentially screwing them over.

I'm sure AA's and Jared antis will be celebrating int he streets, but Jared isn't doing less cons, he's just doing less CE cons. Also he's actually working.

Oh this is so funny! Always be careful of what you wish for because Jensen finally got his Dean show and the AAs finally got their Jensen-centric show but we all know AAs are actually sweating bullets that Jared won't be around to save Jensen from himself, and hellers will wonder which one of them is going to ruin Misha's reputation......

But seriously, clearly Creation Entertainment saw the math on the wall and the sum of which is a Jared-shaped-hole where money used to be. Jared actually has a career outside of Supernatural , so he Fox-Muldered himself. For reference...

But for Jensen and most alumni, Supernatural will be their best-known gigs. I said here and here 5 years ago that "Misha and the rest of the one hit wonders may have 5 years of con circuit to rake in the money, after that it’s Meet & Greets at strip malls". And that was assuming Jared would still be co-heading with Jensen.

So by now attendances are peeling off and a few actors apparently told their fans that CE reduced their salary to the point that either working at CE is no longer viable or CE essentially fired them. CE is desperate to attract new con-goers by throwing out The Boys mentions and adding Smallville actors and rebranding as "J1 and friends convention"! I wonder if CE is still demanding the same outrageous price for the privilege of a J2 event without one of the Js.

#supernatural convention

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thisisnotthenerd · 8 months

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oh boy. deeply excited about this episode.

reskinning divine sense to be looking for your kids is so good. jaysohn and lila are little fiends.

a BEAR???? aabria's gone full in on the body horror. i get why there was a trigger warning email. the chipmunks inside? horrifying. the fact that the heart is beating? incredible. major props to the art team and everyone who worked on that bear because by god it worked. it's doing it's job.

these are some truly deadly stoats and i'm so here for it. at the start of the battle i was afraid of an immediate pc death but by god they're doing it so well. unbelievably violent. i love the use of harengon stats and how it's clear that these are a group of wild animals, carnivores that killed to make their first home and will kill to keep their family. primal savagery indeed.

why is the bear full of blue. oh my god. and the fact that the chipmunks have proboscides and are weekend at bernie'sing this bear. aabria i just want to know where that came from.

the use of lay on hands to cure a disease. my god brennan. an inspired move. and the bullet time. everything about it. lila investigating the blue in her mom. jaysohn leveling up after eating part of the bear. thorn and viola in the brain. ava remembering her past. and tula putting the bear down at peace.

this is truly a legendary episode of dimension 20. we got episode 2'd in the other direction--if a chipmunk filled bear is the first battle? i can't wait to see where this season is going to go.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 tula #d20 jaysohn #d20 lila #d20 viola #d20 thorn vale #d20 ava #burrow's end #burrow's end spoilers #aabria my beloved

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cocktailjjrs · 4 months

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Why does everyone hate Mori soo much!!!!

The show would be soo bland without his sorry ass interfering every now and then.

I actually like the way his character is presented!

(No hate please, if you don't like mori feel free to skip)

So I've been doing a bit research and kinda a character study for a fic i'm writing. And ofc Mori has a part in it.

And so, i go on and look through all his scenes. Read through a few fics to see his interactions with other characters. And do a bit on character analysis as a whole.

It baffles me how people just downright hate him or plain misunderstand his Character as whole.

Like, i don't usually try to defend characters online because everyone has their reasons and rationale, but the whole thing with Mori seems so absurd to me, because we've seen the villains do soo much worse!

Canonically speaking, while he has done some bad shit, he's not the worst in the series either!!!

BSD has always taken the 'it can't get any worse than this' phase and proved it wrong. Mori was supposed to be 1st/2nd season's antagonist.

And no, i don't mean to say that he is not evil. He is downright evil, a mastermind through and through. He's the Port Mafia's boss for gods sake, the most dangerous underground organization, he has a reputation to live up to!

Yes, he is a calculating bastard. He measures each and every move and knows about warfare in depth, and he wields his knowledge as a weapon very well.

Is he a paedophile? Maybe. It's been implied once or twice (if i'm not wrong)

Was his treatment of yosano wrong? Definitely! and he is an ass for that!

But he is SUPPOSED to be an ASS!!! That's the whole point of that character! And i believe those are the character that bring sooo much excitement to the storyline!

But everyone seem to have misunderstood his character soo much or just doesn't want to see the whole picture. And I used to think Chuuya was misunderstood!!!

You remember, when in 15, Dazai was given his first mission as a PM member and that time Mori said 15!Dazai reminded him of himself?

Now think back to what 15!Dazai was -

a teen

suicide maniac

a genius who has never been surprised

manipulative freak

acting carefree and harmless but having a killing intent hidden in plain sight

Now put it in this perspective,

Mori had a life before war that we have no idea about. He was a doctor. He was desperate to win the war by any means, even if it included bringing a child in the military camp, even if it meant keeping a death loop going on and on, even if it meant permanently traumatizing the soldiers.

But WHY?

Mori, as it has been stated multiple times, is someone who is always calculating and rational. He does not let his emotions overtake his decision making, thus making him cold towards others. But there must be a reason why he turned out to be so.

After war, he started working underground, creating a neutral zone for criminals. He knew Natsume sensei before that time. I always wounder why would Natsume entrust his vision to someone like Mori (along with Fukuzawa), if he was really a lost case.

After the whole fight with Fukuzawa over Yosano; he turned to take control of Port Mafia. Maybe he wanted to take Yosano with him then, to create an army of unstoppable ability users.

But the war was over. Then why would he need to do that?

Mori is one of those few characters whose backstory is not at all known to us. I can only think of Dazai and Fyodor other than him with no clear backstory. This makes him a dangerous wild card in a lot of situations. We saw that with Tachihara and Verlaine (completely different circumstances but instead of killing them he kept them close)

But then i read fics that depict him as feral and unhinged, portraying him as a predator who took advantage of poor poor Chuuya and/or Dazai, making them do horrible stuff without their consent.

Like, DID WE EVEN WATCH THE SAME SHOW?

Dazai and Chuuya have been unhinged wayyyy BEFORE they met each other or Mori.

Dazai is not some soft kid, who was physically and sexually assaulted, he was not made to behave tough with Akutagawa. And he certainly was not afraid of Mori. Does Dazai have PTSD related to Mori? Maybe, but in regards to Oda's death. That's it.

Chuuya is not someone who would sit still and take punishment from scalpels and whatnot because he fucked up a mission. Mori is not a fool to send Chuuya on a death mission just because he is afraid he'll take his place or to spite Dazai.

Does this bring a rather angst narrative to Soukoku? Yes it does. Does it make sense? if it's cannon compliant, no it does not!

Soukoku does not need Mori to be the bad guy to come together!

(i think he is no 1 Soukoku shipper himself)

He is not soft but he is not unhinged either. He knows how the ways of war work and he knows there can be no emotions involved if you have to win the war.

You don't always get such characters who are so morally grey, they do everything bad, they are supposed to be evil but still, the plot will be lost without them. Mori is such a great example of that.

Wanting to have peace and staying by the rightful path is all well and good. But where there is light, there will be darkness (because it's definition itself says its absence of light, so you can't exactly have one without the other). And without anyone to keep a check on that darkness, it will consume all.

Without Mori taking over Port Mafia, if we recollect how the previous boss had lead, Yokohama would have been way too bloodier and chaotic than it is now.

Plus, i don't think if Mori was such a bad boss, all of Port Mafia would jump in to protect him against agency during the Cannibalism arc. Hell, even if the grunts did not have a say in it, the executives and commanders did. And we saw them all - Chuuya, Kouyou, Kajii, Black Lizards; hell even Akutagawa and Higuchi were there! And that fight was after he had insisted no altercations with the agency.

My point is, can i have a normal representation of such a great character?

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #i feel so bad when i see ppl hating him for things he have not done #like hate him for killing Oda #or for traumatizing Yosano #but thats it #what else did he do?#And then on other hand everyone just forgave Fukuchi like he did nothing wrong 😭#not fair #bungou stray dogs #ougai mori #bsd mori #port mafia #bsd #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu

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barbie-nightmare-house · 3 months

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I only got into true detective about a month ago and I'm happy to find people in the same boat; if you don't mind could you share some of the deeper thoughts you've had about the show? Your interpretations/headcanons?

Fuck yes I can, goddamn I'm so excited

First, I think the first and fourth seasons are perfect reflections of one another. If you haven't watched S4, many apologies for spoilers. I highly suggest sucking it through a straw.

I’ve been reading the book Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Consciousness by Marion Woodman and Elinor Dickson

In which, the philosophical concepts of self and universal consciousness are analyzed through the framework of the divine masculine and divine feminine. I believe this plays into the themes of both Season 1 and Season 4 of True Detective.

Nic Pizzolatto has expressed that Marty and Rust were written as men he could easily see himself becoming (How I Wrote True Detective - Behind the Curtain, particularly his statement at 3:20), which in essence, is an exploration of how masculinity manifests in different contexts. These are men whose flaws render them incapable of living 'normal' lives, yet enable them to demonstrate bravery in situations where most would not.

There is a lot of gendered discourse around Season 4 that I won't get into. Ultimately, I think it does a wonderful job of presenting the flip-side of the unbalanced masculinity in Season 1 by showing us unbalanced femininity. The women centered in Night Country are imperfect; they struggle with close relationships, with demonstrating faithfulness in relationships, with maternalistic nurturing, with regard for victims, etc.

So, both seasons together really solidified my understanding of the overall story. I'll be using balance, gender, time, and death as the themes here.

There are a few lines in Dancing in the Flames that stuck out to me:

“The psyche, as a self-regulating system, yin and yang in perfect balance, is a vision that historically has yet to be realized. […] In history, as in marriage, or in the individual, when a balance becomes stagnant, one or other of the energies moves out to new adventures. The spurt forces the complimentary energy to move also, until a new balance is found. So the spiral moves.”

It's kind of funny that I picked up this book right after my second rewatch of season 4. I'm big on synchronicities, just seeing shit that plainly ain't there. But here we go,

The imagery presented in Season 1 of True Detective appears to be inspired by some iteration of Cernunnos, a Celtic God of fertility, power, & blessings/weath; "god of beasts and wild places." Further, Cernunnos is the God of the Winter Solstice; the Dark Months (re: the significance of Season 4 Executive producer Mari-Jo Winkler saying, “Let’s look at season one of ‘True Detective.’ Hot, sweaty, male. We wanted to do [the] complete opposite. Dark, Ice, Cold.” in the True Detective: Night Country Podcast). "Cernunnos is the antlered god, part man and part stag. He is born on the darkest day of the year, winter solstice, and marries the goddess of spring, Beltane. About six months later, on summer solstice, he dies.

Among pagans, he is considered the god of fertility, animals, and wealth, and the underworld—sometimes he carries a purse filled with coin, for wealth. This connection to wealth and gold coins is found in the myth about Pluto (Hades), the god of the underworld, from which all wealth comes. Indeed abundance comes from what is deep in the earth and deep in our own psyche.

He is born on winter solstice and dies on summer solstice. This suggests his association with the rise of energy, augmentation, the increasing of light, lengthening of the day and peak experiences. He is a god associated with the potency and power of male sexuality, but not its completeness. Falling on the ground, broken, limp, is just as important an experience of the male psyche as standing erect. Also, the fact that he dies at the peak of light, the second half of the seasonal cycle brings, means that he does not hold the introspective qualities that the harvest brings and the completion of the diminishing of light.

Perhaps Cernunnos is balanced somewhat by his marriage to the goddess of Beltane. She is celebrated in a time when blessing comes from rubbing yourself with the dew of early May morning to soak in the blessing of Spring. Helen Chantler, the designer of our company, remembers watching the horned man in the forest on her BBC television growing up. It was an image that conveyed guardianship and the protector of the forest. Yet this image of the antlered man, so powerfully associated with Celtic myth and lore, has been widely depicted and enacted across indigenous cultures for thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands of years. Iconography of an antlered man, standing, have been found in French Paleolithic cave paintings" (reference).

Full disclosure, I am not learned in Celtic myth or any such topic. I don't know if this was the intended reference material for Season 1's Big Bad Spookiness, but I think thematically, this explains the unexplained in both S1 and S2.

I randomly picked up this book I hadn't yet read, which I bought at random in a used bookstore probably 5 years ago, flipped through, and landed on this picture.

Synchronicities dawg.

Woodman and Dickson have this to say:

"This is Cernunnos, Lord of the Animals. It is Shiva, or Dionysus archetypal energies long repressed by Christianity. Repression turned the Horned God into the Horned Devil, the root of all evil. [...] The Horned Devil is energy that is so repressed and cut off from the earth that it is best symbolized by Mephistopheles, the light and airy creature that floats above the earth. The Horned Devil is the disembodied spirit that manipulates, usurping situations for the gratification of its instinctual desires for domination-- sexual or otherwise. The Horned God, as Gary Lingen points out '...is a positive model for male power--free from the patriarchy and all other authoritative models--as he grows and passes through his changes during the wheel of the year, he remains in relationship to and not separate from the prime life and nurturing force--the Goddess.'

The Horned God, moreover, is an archetypal figure quite unlike most masculine images as they appear in culture. He is difficult to understand because he does not fit into any of the expected stereotypes, neither those of the "macho" male nor the reverse-images of those who deliberately seek effeminacy. He is gentle, tender and comforting, but he is also the Hunter. He is the Dying God--but his death is always in service of the life force. He is untamed sexuality--but sexuality as a deep, holy, connecting power. He is the power of feeling, and the image of what men could be if they were liberated from the constraints of patriarchal culture."

It's possible that Pizzolatto merely modeled the Big Bad Spooky Scary in Season 1 with paganistic imagery for fearmongering purposes, but I choose to believe that Childress, the Tuttles, and unnamed counterparts were worshippers of some bastardized version of Cernunnos.

It is indicated many times in both S1 and S2 that symbology associated with the murders is 'old', 'archaic', and looks like cave drawings. I believe the nature of the belief system associated with the Big Bad is transactional, given that it precedes Semitic religions.

What do you pray for when your primary goal is to live another day? You pray for abundant harvest, you pray for fertility, you pray for the sun to return.

What do you pray for when society becomes more collective? You pray for a bigger hut than the next guy, you pray for blessings.

What do you pray for when buildings scrape the sky? You pray for wealth, you pray for power.

I think the Tuttles and their counterparts belonged to a small group of worshippers who retained archaic beliefs and practices, which they attributed to the wealth or power their group amassed. Thus, they continued worshipping.

However, we only see the masculine aspects of this worship in Season 1. We see the vulnerable (women and children) victimized by physically and/or socially powerful men. We see this vulnerability overpowered through ritualistic abuses and murders, which demonstrates that the Big Bad have devolved to, or perhaps have always been, negligent of the inherent role of the divine feminine (Beltane, in this case, as the counterpart to Cernunnos). Thus, the Tuttles represent unbalanced masculinity, where they seek to overpower others in the name of worship. In reality, they are simply indulging in animalistic, individual desires. Truly, they may be neglecting and/or attempting to dominate the divine feminine out of innate fear.

"What is the way to appease the Great Mother, to keep her as Protectress and prevent her wrathful Vengeance? Give her what she demands-- blood! And likewise, invent a precise way to do it-- ritual! Thus, the first great ritual was a ritual of blood sacrifice, offered to the Great Mother-- to Mother Nature-- in a bartered attempt to quench her desire for blood. [...] Blood is indeed bodily life, and if you want to purchase life, you purchase it with blood. So goes paleologic; like magic, it works in partial truths; and like magic, since it is unable to grasp higher perspectives or wider contexts, it arrives at barbaric conclusions." - Marie-Louise Von Franz, Golden Ass of Apuleius: The Liberation of the Feminine in Man

Whatever, I won't get distracted by analyzing the psyche of side character antagonists. I won't! What I'm trying to say is:

They're worshipping an old religion, which requires blood sacrifice. This blood may be literal (murder), or symbolic (sexually abusing the innocent, i.e. symbolic blood of menstruation or deflowering).

As with all things, there is no inherent evil in worship, but this manner of worship represents a stark lack of balance. These are not praying men-- these are men attempting to manipulate nature, life/death, and femininity to their egoistic desires. Thus, they create imbalance.

This imbalance, in True Detective, is a microcosm representing greater imbalances of energy. Imbalance in society, in the universe, and in individuals. We are shown this lack of balance through complex characters.

Two characters, specifically, show us the energy required to correct universal balance; Rustin Cohle and Evangeline Siqiññaatchiaq Navarro.

I also won't get into the Messiah archetypes of these characters. I won't (I probably will).

This fucking long form analysis is going to be a bitch to read and is also a bitch to write, I'm struggling to collect my thoughts well enough to not communicate like we're playing Word Associations.

Okay. So. Rust = Divine Masculine. Evangeline = Divine Feminine. Hold onto that for later.

In the Southern states of America, such as Louisiana where the Tuttles have historical roots, power and wealth are generally understood as God’s Blessings. The Christian God. Which explains why the Tuttles used Christianity as a mask for their true beliefs and practices. Additionally, the immutable power of organized religion allowed the Tuttles and their associates access to vulnerable individuals to prey upon.

While the Tuttles practiced their underlying beliefs in secret, I believe Errol Childress’s murder of Dora Lange indicated his sentiments of rejection from his bloodline. Where the proper Tuttles secured social and financial power, Errol was essentially a grunt, despite enabling and participating in the ritualistic abuse and murder. He might have developed a coping mechanism of believing himself a profit. Frustrated that in the ‘real world’ the power and virility he exercised in private was not respected, he made a ‘show’ of Dora Lange’s murder. This could have been motivated by the following: - A rejection of the Tuttles secretiveness. We should be proud of our practices. Look, we’re untouchable. I won’t live in the shadows

A warning or punishment of the Tuttles. By displaying his practices proudly through Dora Lange’s presentation, Errol Childress places the Tuttles at risk for exposure.

A personal demonstration of elevated dedication to his ‘god’, i.e., an attempt to prove he is more faithful than those who practice in secret. Errol was showing the world his power.

I believe the Tuttle’s practice of murdering and abusing innocents in the name of a, conceivably, pagan god, is due to a bastardized interpretation of the god’s power and purpose. If we consider that Cernunnos alone is the divine masculine, incomplete/imbalanced without the feminine counterpart, we see the space where men may lean into this lack of balance as an opportunity to enforce patriarchal dominance over the divine feminine. By abusing the divine feminine (women and children), the interpretation of Cernunnos becomes a rat-race of man’s most basic pursuits; power, wealth, and death. They lord over the divine feminine by sacrificing its counterparts (women and children) to Cernunnos. In a patriarchal interpretation (cisgender, heterosexual) of nature, men cannot create as women can, so the most they can achieve in the way of god power is taking life.

Then comes the spiral. In the first season, it appeared to be representative of the Nietzschean circular time theme. Given the events of Season 4 as a continuation of the spiral imagery, I have deduced that the S1 spiral is another perversion of old beliefs that the Tuttles have bastardized.

Rather than being a symbol of Cernunnos (real quick: peep Cernunnos vs. Carcosa?? 'He who eats time?' and absolutely chooooke on this interpretation) I believe the spiral represents his ‘wife’ or divine feminine counterpart– Spring. Or rather, Life. And thus, She is Time itself. The Tuttles pray to something that, again, EATS TIME. I'm sorry I keep saying this, but they only worship half of nature. It's a perversion. It's wrong. It's empty. S4 gives us the other half of the story.

In Season 4, the supernatural force, or ‘god’ is referred to with feminine pronouns: ‘She is awake, she is coming, she is here’. More on this later, but I think the spiral represents a larger concept than Cernunnos/Carcosa; Balance. Eternity. The Universe. I believed initially that the spiral was jagged, as opposed to the ‘perfect’ golden ratio, because it would have been carved or drawn with rudimentary objects by prehistoric humans. Looking at the galaxy in which earth exists (and others like it)-- I mean :/ I'm no science guy, but... come on now.

(cr. NASA / STScI)

(cr. Gabriel Pérez Díaz, SMM (IAC).)

(cr. Fibbonacci.com)

COME ON NOW.

Back to Cernunnos, he is the god of Darkness, and dies when Spring comes. However, he and his divine feminine counterpart never cease existing. They are married; opposite sides of a coin, constantly flipping; inextricably bonded. They are the same thing—and separate—and the same; flat time. (Side note: also found out the universe itself is 'flat' to our perception. I'm absolutely wrecked by this)

As Rust says, “Time created Death to grow the things it would kill.” So, from hereon, I will refer to Cernunnos’s counterpart, represented by the spiral symbol, as Time.

She is the spring, where life grows. In Season 4, we may assume that she eats in the winter. Despite the spooky Big Bad, overcoming evil, vibe of Season 4, it’s important to note that there is no inherent good or evil in the universe. There's just balance. While Navarro refers to the supernatural force as a “curse” that takes her people one by one, we must acknowledge that Death is the certainty of Life. Both states are suspended within time. Circular. Cyclical. Spinning. A spiral.

Ennis is a land of extremes, where Time and Existence appear to be a more ancient/raw form (prehistoric ice and such, significance of magnetic poles, idk I'm not a science guy).

As Time’s presence in Ennis is generally acknowledged by the indigenous people, it could stand that the descendants of those who existed on this land in prehistoric times would have a more innate connection to Time. On that land, where Time has more power, occurrences such as “the dead don’t stay dead” implicates that the laws of humanity are bent in favor of the unknowable reality of time.

Whereas the Tuttle’s represent unbalanced patriarchal masculinity, i.e., acknowledging ‘old gods’ and worshiping them for self-serving gain, demonstrated by their social powers and abuses– the Iñupiaq people exhibit instinctual balance and reverence for the old ways.

The Tuttles and counterparts mark victims with the spiral, almost as if to attract the acknowledgement of their god, whereas the Iñupiaq people mark the spiral as a warning of her presence. It is stated that ‘she’ exists where the ice is thin over the sea. To me, this indicates that ‘she’ is somewhat synonymous with the sea, or the ground beneath it, as, in the prehistoric time (where her power would be more observable) the water level would've been lower (idk, I'm not a science guy). Basically, I think ‘she is awake’ indicates that she has gone dormant/is hibernating under the ice.

Thus, Time calls the Iñupiaq to areas of thin ice in order to ‘eat’ them. This practice is representative of a balance. She is existence in perfect balance. She is life and death. In her presence, time becomes nonlinear (i.e., the visions experienced by the characters in S4). Time becomes a flat circle.

The Tuttles presence in Ennis via the mine has disrupted the circle. The softening of permafrost due to the mine's pollution has both awoken her, and disrupted the balance of her domain. Life and Death. Rather than taking her justified ‘fill’ of the dead, pollution has caused an unnatural rise in deaths, exampled by the stillbirths. The Iñupiaq stillbirths represent the inherent interruption of natural course. Thus, she is not just awoken, but angered. She's PISSED.

This explains why the events in Season 4 unfold as they do. In the last episode, an Iñupiaq auntie explains that ‘she (Time)’ was responsible for taking the Tsalal men or releasing them. She chose to take them, and ‘eat their fucking dreams’.

This statement reminded me of the theme of dreaming in Season 1. A theoretical physicist, Fred Alan Wolf, claims that “dreaming is vital to our survival as a species and a necessary ‘learning laboratory’ wherein the self and the universe evolve. In brief, matter evolves through dreams.” In the book Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Divine Consciousness, “the unknowable mystery we sometimes call God” can only be understood through finding individual and communal balance, which is historically and presently impossible due to patriarchal systems.

The significance of this, I think, is the overarching theme in both seasons: Time as an insurmountable force that weighs on the characters. Past, present, future are flattened and defined by suffering. We see the mostly faceless antagonists attempt to gain unnatural power over time– in Season 1, the Tuttles (and their counterparts) actions implicate a desire of procuring power and wealth through sacrificing innocent youth (balanced time), and in Season 4, they are searching for a microorganism that could provide insight into immortality, or at least further their material wealth and power– ultimately creating the imbalance of essential, unknowable truths: Time, Life, Death, and Dreaming. We also see the protagonists struggle under the weight of Time in a more intimate, consumable capacity.

The imbalance of energies is a human fault. This human fault, likely, has no true power in the universe. It is simply a disruptor, which will ultimately be self-corrected, as “the spiral moves.”

We see this correction in the form of an unlikely savior. In Season 1, this is Rust. In season 4, this is Navarro. They are both plagued with an undefined but obviously overwhelming burden of Time, and an innate connection to the unknowable.

While neither understands how or why, they have been called to a life which seems to deny human nature. Isolation, reluctant power (being a fuckin cop), and the responsibility of bearing witness to the soul-crushing examples of human failure. However, their actions and insight are ultimately the antithesis of the antagonists perversions of Life and Death. Both Rust and Navarro, though somewhat unwillingly, are called on to correct Time.

Their circular patterns become enlightened. They prevail. They balance the divine masculine and divine feminine.

I think this is most apparent in Navarro’s character arc. Particularly her statements, and the many examples of her being ‘called’ by Time. Her displacement from the community of people who share her blood, and thus her connection to the land, is significant because it has potentially inspired her to become a protector. With the social power of law enforcement, and the dual-perspective of those who perpetuate disbalance of time (cops, who ultimately are tools for high-level antagonists like the Tuttles), and those who keep it (the indigenous people), she is the perfect blend of energies to correct the balance. I think she was beckoned back to the land by Time specifically, (evidenced by her visions, like “listen”), with divine purpose. Her Inupiaq name meaning the sun’s return from darkness in itself is evidence of that. Her compassion for Annie K. has greater implications on the story than our understanding of justice.

If she was called to the land by Time, presented with the murder of Annie K. as motivation to expose Tsalal, thus exposing the mine, and ultimately the Tuttles, Navarro restores the balance of Life and Death, and ultimately Time, to the land. Her personal journey reflects the initial disbalance, the unknowable forces at play, and ultimately the correction of both. She encompasses universal truths.

God calls from places where the ice is thin.

God is talking to Evangeline directly.

In the spiritual statements that tell Evangeline to “listen”, as well as the many visions in which an individual (conceivably possessed by spiritual forces) points at her, God orders her to bear witness, which is also the purpose that Rust Cohle assigned to his existence in Season 1.

Like Moses and the burning FUCKING bush, Evangeline is plagued with visions; and is called to carry the burden of guiding others into the light.

As Rust said in the first season, “it’s the oldest story there is. Light vs. Dark” and “if you ask me, light is winning.”

Okay, that's all I have for right now. Sorry for using this as my excuse to go apeshit in the way I've been meaning to for weeks. If you'd like specific character headcanons or anything, let me know! Rust Cohle rents an apartment in my head and it fucking stinks in there.

#hope this answers your question lol #asks #true detective #true detective season 1 #true detective season 4 #true detective night country #rust cohle #rustin cohle #evangeline navarro

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dovahkinniez · 1 year

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I genuinely love your blog so much, I've definitely binged a few times haha. I was wondering if you'd do a NSFW alphabet for Kaidan from skyrim? I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and holiday season!

` 𖤓 . . . NSFW ALPHABET: KAIDAN.

Oh my god. You absolute angel. Thank you so much! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas/holiday season too, love.

So then, I expected either Kaidan or Farkas to be requested for this, I was right. Let's get into it. (I'm excited HAHA) ps. This hasn't been proof-read, any mistakes ignore, if I change any that's means I've had the motivation to read though... Enjoy anyway!

18+ only!! Sexual content ahead. Minors dni.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Kaidan is a naturally rough man with a rough outlook on life, but this doesn't apply to the aftercare he gives you. He loves the intimacy of feeling your bodies close after sex, in a non-sexual way where he feels you both calm down.

He likes to hold you, to help wash each other between sweet kisses and light conversations. After a rough session he'll massage you, you massage him and it's like a little bonding session between you both. He loves to be just a pampered and as looked after as you are after sex. He finds it more intimate than the act beforehand.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: he likes his arms, hands and shoulders. They're strong and big. He likes how his arms hold you, move you about. He likes how his shoulders cage over you, how they hold your legs over them when he goes down, he loves how his hands make you feel.

Yours: your thighs and stomach. Doesn't matter how big or small. He loves them. To grab, kiss, bite, rest his head on. To hold when he fucks you. If you have a tummy he will grab during sex, it drives him wild. I see him liking a thicc mf. (Yum)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

I see him as someone who cums quite a lot. He's a horny mf and when he shoots, he shoots. He likes to cum in you, likes to fuck it further in you, to watch it ooze around you both. And on your stomach and chest too.

I think he strays away from doing it in your mouth for the simple reason he doesn't want it to be too much, if you're okay with a literal mouthful then go ahead, but you'd have to tell him you want it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hehe. He likes to watch and hear you pleasure yourself. He will pretend he's asleep if you do it beside him late at night. One eye open as he watches you. He doesn't touch himself, he doesn't interrupt. He finds it hotter letting himself rile up so he can wake up tomorrow and fuck it out his system with you. He's never told you he's done this multiple times and he won't because he wants it to happen again. And again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He has experience. Fuckin hell. I suggest you don't ask his body count, unless you want to leave with a bruise on your ego. Thing is though, you're the only one he's ever loved. He's had sex, a lot of it but never with people he loves or even really likes. Most he couldn't even tell you their name.

But all this experience has lead him to know what to do and what not to do. He knows what he's doing, and he's really good at it too. So say thanks to the many others before you, because you're his last and you get the best sex ever.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

I'd say he's a switch, with a huge dominant lean.

He loves it when you ride him. Laid back relaxed as he moans out into the air, dark eyes watching you as you use his cock as a toy to pleasure yourself on. Loves watching how your body moves, how it takes him.

Doggy. We know this. He just screams it. Loves it when you arch your back, face down, ass up. Grabbing all over your thighs and ass as he watches it shake with each thrust. DAMNNN. And when he leans down, hand holding your jaw up as he presses hot kisses along your neck and shoulders.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depends. He's naturally quite a funny person once you get to know him, unintentionally that is. During sex he might come out with a few one liners that he says seriously but you end up dying of laughter, he laughs with you.

He believes its healthy to have fun while having sex because sometimes when you see sex as two naked people bumping bits it can feel awkward, so when you laugh it loosens that up a bit, especially if you are inexperienced and it's the first few times of you two having it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

This man doesn't care either way.

Whatever you prefer, he's easy come. Easy go. He ain't afraid to delve into the jungle if you prefer not to shave and he's too lazy to keep up with his own. He likes to do a bit of trimming because otherwise he's complaining about his 'dangly bits' annoying him if he shaves completely.

But he keeps his happy trail, hell yeah. I am a supporter of happy trails.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, but not cheesy romance. More like 'fun and loving', he sees it as a fun thing to do, he likes to watch you and feel you and loves eye contact with lots of touching. So yeah. He is pretty intimate.

But don't expect candles and petals everywhere...

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He's a horny man. He loves a good wank. He isn't the type to do it like four times a day. Maybe four times a week. But he usually has you anyway so he doesn't need his fist as much anymore.

If you aren't as sexual as him, that's cool. He'll just had a wank and go about his day if he's horny enough. But he's always horny so..

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Face sitting ‐ loves it when you sit on his face. No hovering. None of that shit. Suffocate this man. If he ain't gasping for air after he ain't impressed.

Choking - both ways. Loves it when you take control. He knows he can easily overpower you but he doesn't because he just likes to let loose and let you take the reigns. But still, choke him, let him choke you. He loves it.

Degradation - again, both ways. Loves to call you his whore, and loves to fuck you like it too while grunting strings of degrading things into your ear, loves to mock you even more when he sees your reaction to said nasty things.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere. You could have just taken down a dragon and he's like 'fucking hell, seeing you murder that thing was sexy. Wanna fuck?' And you're off behind a rock like the rest ain't behind the other side like ???

Lowkey loves it in taverns though. Having the stay quiet while the others drinks and sing, relax and sleep. Especially after youve both had a few to drink. Makes it more fun.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Pfffttt. Anything. You could bend over to pick up something and he's the type to grab your hips and pretend to fuck you. You even remind him of what happened last night and he's ready to do it all over again. He loves you, and your body and what both your bodies do together, how could he not want more?

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No threesomes or anyone involved at all. You're his, he's yours. Only you two could see and experience something as intimate as sex. He may like the excitement of being caught. But would kill anyone who set eyes on your body the way he does.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Likes to wine, dine and 69. He loves your mouth and you love his. Especially when used down under.

He's like a starved man, so hungry and ready. Definitely a messy giver, he gets off to it because he loves the taste and the feeling of his mouth against you. Like just imagine him drunk on you with his chin and jaw soaking wet - fucking hell.

Likes it when you lay with your head back off the bed so he can fuck your throat. Holding your head in place as you use your tongue and lips on him. Drives him crazy to see your throat expand and gasp as he slides it in and out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually pretty fast. It really depends on the mood and specifically how you want it. He wants you to enjoy it as much as him. He likes to go slower after an emotionally waring day, to just lose himself in you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, depends on you. He's down to quickies, but he likes to make you feel good so if you're the type who needs time he'll make sure you're both able to have that time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

A bit of knife play. He's a skilled man and the way he handles his blade gets a fire in you. So maybe you asked him about it. He sees it as a risk. He never wants to hurt you or do something accidentally so you'd most likely have to talk him into it and reassure him. His Aftercare is 100% more important after sessions like this.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He lasts a long while I'd say, maybe not when you first got together because he hadn't had sex for awhile. But he gotten better and at not wanting to bust the moment you even touched him. He'd last up to an hour, three on a good day if he takes breaks to move positions. You and your body hold a lot of power over him.

He can go over two rounds. Especially if you haven't done it in awhile, he wants to make up for it.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He's not opposed to them. Sex toys don't exactly like ... exist... in this world. But if you wanted to try something out, he'd never say no. He loves to try new things and spice it up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's a natural tease. He's so funny with it until you're about to orgasm and he's like 'aha. Not too fast there, darling', acting as if he hadn't done that multiple times.. So yeah. He is quite unfair. But he loves to lead you into the best orgasm physically possible.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Yknow when you're in a dungeon and he starts speaking loudly out of nowhere? Kind of like that. He goes from being generally quiet, the odd noise in your ear to him groaning and grunting. It's so hot. He mumbles a lot too. Cussing between gritted teeth.

W = Wild Card

He loves to fuck your thighs. Simple as. Xoxo

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Lol. He's big, around 8.5/9 inches long. He's thick too. Curves upwards slightly. It's kind of scary until you're used to it. I don't think he's the type to realise how big he is either. But he knows how to use it, really well.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high, simple as.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He makes sure you're comfortable and sorted. He likes to chat too afterwards so he isn't the type to fall asleep fast after. Most times he falls asleep after you do because he likes to tell you stories as you sleep.

#skyrim x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim headcanon #skyrim scenarios #skyrim x dovahkiin #elder scrolls skyrim #skyrim #elder scrolls #kaidan 2 x reader #kaidan tes #kaidan mod x reader #kaidan 2 #kaidan romance

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sinimake · 3 months

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Oh my god we already have the first skins for the new season of Invasions and they are...so fcking ugly. I'm sorry but what the hell? 😭 like, somo of the colors seem fine but the hairstyles are just WILD. I'm so sad bc I've been waiting for this season for months hoping we would get killer skins (seeing how it's Mileena's season). The. Devastation.

I AM THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO FLY TO NRS AND KICK DOWN THE DOOR!!!

I was SO EXCITED for Mileena's season bc i knew this skin would be available with its full elegance, look at the hair, the petal like suit, amazing 👏 😍

I was expecting these sort of skins for everyone; red eyed, tarkatan featured rosters with the magenta, pink and purple color theme. I was rubbing my hands together and shit like this

BUT WHAT DID I WAKE UP TO???

FUCKING TOMATO SALAD LOOKING ASS, SANTAS ELVES WITH ICE CREAM TOP LOOKING ASS. THOSE CUTS ARE NOT IT G NOT IT ALL NOT IT ALL

These skins are making Titan Havik's Kenshi in the storymode look good—and that should indicate how bad it is.

Even if they were originally for Havik's season, HAVIK DESERVES BETTER THAN THESE

THESE HANDS!!! THESE HANDS WILL CATCH NRS!!!

#leswell rants #WHEN I CATCH U NRS #mortal kombat

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thefringespod · 6 days

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Happy #AudioDramaSunday wanderers! Starting off with @tellnotalespod mini ep this week which I'm very late too because I'm terrified of it. I'm actively listening right now and know I will weep. Thanks Leanne for making me cry again 💜

Up next we have @woebegonepod episode 158 which. Made me so fucking feral yall it was so good but it also hurt me incredibly bad I loved it and I will never forgive Dylan for what he's done. Season 14 is so wild already and im loving it. I'm also still relistening to woe.begone and its just as good as the first time. Mikey sounds so young and not nearly as traumatized. I missed that. He's the bear 🐻

I am still making my way through the @podcast-bookclub's Podjam shows! I've listened to 4 so far and they are all so incredible. Starting things off with @working-tidal-pod which is NOT a comedy but IS very fucking good go listen to my friends show go do it now

@thefinderskeeperpod absolutely knocked me out I love it so much already. @madd-vo and @audistorium have made one hell of a show and I cannot wait to hear more of it because gods I'm gnawing on it so much it's so so so fucking good

@spacespeckspod has made a post apocalypse story that doesn't fill me with existential dread (yet <3) I love this group of survivors so much already and want to hear all about them and gods if anything terrible happens I'll sob <3

@theichorousrotpod was the last one I've listened to (so far) and it's another one I'm gnawing on already. I love a fictional mysterious disease and I love hearing what they're doing with it so far. When more is released I WILL become feral I'm so excited

Here on the Fringes I'm getting in recordings for s3 and making my way through rerecording s1 still. I should also have some new commentaries up on patreon.com/pinetreepods for s1 comin soon!

And over on @forgedbondspod we have begun crowdfunding! Crowdfunding means shouting out my cast so if you want to meet the first 5 members of our cast you can head over to our socials now. And if you wanna support the show, you can visit our indiegogo!

That's all for this week! Things are slow and fast all at once over here but I'm excited about everything that's coming up <3

#tales from the fringes of reality #pines notes #recommendation post #audio drama sunday #audiodrama sunday

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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owlwithanapple · 6 months

Text

So Hot ya.

Part 01

Mauga x Y/N

You are a freelance writer. You often work from home, so you have never had a chance to go out for a holiday. Finally, one day you finished the manuscript. You remember that summer is a very suitable season for vacation at the seaside, and there are many water activities to play. So you searched for a good place for vacation on the computer and found a place called Samoa. It's just a place that suits your ideal. There are beaches and seaside. You can indulge yourself and have a good time, so you booked a flight to Samoa.

"Oh, my God! Finally! I can have a good holiday. That bastard temporarily shortened my submission deadline, causing me to work all night. Now that the work is done... It's time to take a bath!" You happily take off your clothes and go into the bathroom.

You turn on the warm water to fill the bathtub and then throw a rose-flavored bath ball into the bathtub. The whole bathroom is full of fragrant roses, and you slowly soak yourself in the bathtub and enjoy it.

"I have to wear a bikini when I play at the seaside. I must wear it boldly! I have a good figure, of course I want to show it! Since I'm going on vacation, of course I have to dress up." You said excitedly.

You left the bathtub, went to turn on the shower and wash the soap on your body. You take the bath towel and wipe your body clean, then put the bath towel around your body and leave the bathroom. After you dry your hair, you start applying skin care products after choosing a set of pajamas in the wardrobe. The inexplicable excitement of going on vacation, you quickly take out your suitcase and pack your things.

——————

On the day of departure~

Before departure——

You bought a cup of Americano at the airport, you went to the waiting room and waited for boarding.

"Great, I'm not late, otherwise I would have missed the flight." You sit and wait for the time.

At this time, the radio report said that customers going to Samoa could board the plane. You quickly got up and walked into the cabin.

"Miss, your seat is first class. Please follow me to your seat." The stewardess said.

"Thank you." You follow the stewardess to the seat.

15 minutes before the plane took off, you raised your feet and picked up the magazine and read it. When you see your work ranked first in the magazine, you laugh excitedly.

"Hey, hot girl, why are you laughing so happily?" A rough voice said.

"Ah? Hot girl? Where?" You are confused.

"Here." The voice said.

You turn your head, a big and strong man sits in the seat next door and looks at you. Tattoos, muscles and body shape highlight the man's wildness. You were shocked to see his wild hairstyle and muscles, and you couldn't help looking at it a few more times. At this time, the man also noticed you, and he laughed before you came to your senses.

"Hot girl, I'm inexplicably excited when you look at me like this." The man said flirtingly.

"Ah! Sorry! I was distracted for a moment. I shouldn't have stared at you like this. But are you calling me?" You asked.

"That's right! There are no other hot girls here. I'm just calling you." The man said with a smile.

"Oh, hahaha. Your mouth is so sweet, strong man." You flirted with him.

"Great! I have dressed myself well!" You think.

"But hot girl, you haven't told me why you laughed so happily?" The man asked.

"Ah! In fact, my work ranked first, so I laughed. " You answer with a smile.

"Wow, you're awesome. The sexy hot girl writer who ranked first." The man said with a flirty smile.

"Awhhh, thank you." You answer with a smile.

You noticed that he had a few fangs when he smiled, and with his wild image, you felt inexplicably hot and excited. At this time, you are thinking that if you have a vigorous passion with this man, it may be very fierce. You couldn't help peeking at him. You found that he was asleep and you almost laughed.

At this time, you heard the radio saying that the plane was about to take off, and you put away the magazine and sit still. After the plane took off, you looked at the scenery outside the window, and you were relieved that you could finally enjoy it. You closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Part 01 The End.

TO BE CONTINUED…🔥

If you have any suggestions, you can leave your comments in the comment section.💻

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #ow2 #mauga x reader #ow mauga #ow #mauga #overwatch mauga #mauga overwatch #mauga ho'okano #mauga x y/n #mauga fanfic #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #passion #romance

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ferdieinceladoncity · 18 days

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I have two million circling thoughts about 'milagro' and no confidence that I can get them out of my head, but it was so intensely interesting I feel like I have to try.

First of all, the most "this was quite obviously written by a man with little to no care or understanding of Not being a man" episode that I have seen so far. To the point that it smacks me over the head. No woman would act like this: you would run, so so far, the second a guy like that entered an elevator with you.

The scene in the church is incredible in terms of how it was acted. The resigned realisation of "god, he's that kind of creep. That's the kind of man he is. He's infatuated with me." the way she starts to cry, overwhelmed with the emotion of it all- the fear, knowing she's in very real danger. It hit me right in the gut.

I do understand what they were aiming with in terms of her character and her infatuation with Padgett. It's not news that Scully is a little bit fucked in the head (as kind as I can put it) and morbid curiosity drew her to his apartment (and, putting her possibly in the running for Stupidest Person ever, self destructive tendencies or not, drinks something he makes her) but the whole scene is almost *too* much. Like. Scully. You cannot be doing this. Possibly the actual scariest/most infuriating scene in the x-files that I've seen.

Then again, I keep yelling that there's no way any woman would be foolish enough to act like this, but she's not a very normal woman. Sorry, it's true. She runs headfirst into these moments of possible self-destruction stemming from her own severe insecurities over whatever her relationship is with Mulder, the circumstances and uncertainty and longevity of which would probably drive *me* a little crazy, especially off the tail end of all the drama of season 6, Diana and all that. I'll do this, I'll get myself into this awful situation, and maybe you'll have something to say about it.

To that end, I'm at odds with wether this is really so 'out of character' or not. I hate to see it. But it makes sense. We can't all be perfect and we certainly can't all make good choices.

Mulder in this episode (because I feel like I should dedicate a paragraph to him even though he's not front and centre) disappoints me a bit. I have at this point read a lot of other reviews of this episode on Tumblr and reddit and heard people praise how "protective" he was, "jealous" was a word used, and generally a lot of focus on the shippiness of this episode, to which I can't agree. He infuriated me just a little. I appreciate that he was down to slap Padgett in the cell and I appreciate that he went to the effort of stealing letters to find his name and all, yet when Scully first talks to him about Padgett after the church scene, telling him he's the one who gave her the milagro and he was frightening, all he has to ask is "do you think he's the killer?" not "are you okay" or anything of the sort. Yes, I know Scully's not the kind of person to really appreciate that. She can hold her own, or she'd like him to think so. Still. From *my* perspective, and this is *my* write-up, and *my* Tumblr blog. And I think it's a bothersome thing to say. Also, I roll my eyes at mulder referring to sex as "the naked pretzel." What's with this guy and censoring himself like he's writing a tiktok comment? Actually, between this and "the wild thing" back in genderbender, maybe he just has some crazy hang-up about referring to scully having a sexual encounter (real or imagined) in a serious context. Interesting.

...That paragraph ended up being longer than my other ones. Loss for feminism on the post that I specifically started because I was fuelled by feminism.

"Agent Scully is already in love" should be for all the world a gleeful revelation and I was quite excited to see it, as I'd heard about this scene long before (MSR gifsets was what drew me here in the first place. I'm shallow like that.) But scully has been so kicked around this episode, stripped of privacy and dignity in every sense and this has been exposed to Mulder and everybody else, that it only makes me sad, because I do wish that Padgett would stop talking to her completely and stop getting around in her head like this.

The end scene just kills me, where the killer breaks in and grabs at her heart. She claws at Mulder's back when he embraces her with such fierce desperation and what I can only assume is a very, very deep well of regret. She doesn't shy away from him caring for her: she needs it.

#when I write stuff like this I always get the sense that I don't understand human emotion at all and start to second guess myself #if this is the case please forgive me. please.#x-files #mine #txf #milagro

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smolvenger · 1 year

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter One (Loki x fem! Reader A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Mist and Fury reimagined with various Tom Hiddleston characters.

You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal.

Word Count: 3865

Chapter Warnings: Blood and sickness, discussions of death and dying. Cursing. Loki is a snarky little shit as always. Foreshadowing. I play with Canon because it's my fic and I can do what I want. Don't like; don't read. I don't like Cora Seaborne and it shows.

A/N: Hi guys! You don't have to be completely familiar with the A Court of Thorns and Roses series to read this, I hope! I hope you like it since it's literally the most unhinged idea for a fic I ever had. Instead of using Thor characters, we're breaking open the Hiddlesverse! But for those of you who are familiar, I've already figured out so far that Reader is Feyre, Loki is Rhsyand, Will Ransome is Tamlin, and I decided Stella is Elain. Initially, Stella was gonna be Feyre but I realized Reader could easily be swapped to be in her position to make it a Reader fic. Thanks to @mochie85 for ideas about characters and the title for this! If you're familiar with the series, I've figured out who the bat boys are, but I've yet to figure out who should be Amren, Mor (my beloved), maybe Nesta (my other beloved), or maybe Lucien. If you have ideas, let me know! I'm glad you guys enjoy this wild idea as much as I do!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85

Aldwinter, England. 1884.

“I am sorry to say it, but you have consumption. And it is fatal.”

You froze in your bed. The doctor shook his head. Your heart picked up and you felt a lump in your throat- and this time it wasn’t blood to cough out.

“I know it’s bad news to hear a month from your wedding, but it’s true and you must know it, Miss Y/N,” the doctor continued.

You looked down at your shaking hands. Your jaw hung open.

“You’ll tell my parents…and Will, won’t you?” you asked.

You prayed it wasn’t so. That you weren’t losing your appetite because of sickness but something else. Any other sickness- any other! Just nerves about your engagement and wedding to the local vicar, nothing more. That you were just breathing hard from too much anxiety. You figured perhaps a bad cold as you grew weaker last week. Then Will himself was permitted to roll up his sleeves and press a cold cloth to your forehead, maybe you had influenza. But when you coughed out blood- you might as well have seen your own coffin.

The Doctor nodded.

“I’ll tell your family and the Reverend Ransome. They need to know. I’m sorry, but there is little else to do now but…settle your affairs and wait.”

You lay in that bed. The world spinning around you. Those two words- I’m dying. I’m dying, floating in you.

Good Lord, already about to die! And there was so much! What about the wedding! You were about to live here as a vicar’s wife- how could you die now?

You could hear the crying from downstairs when the doctor announced it.

Dying is quiet. Dying is lonely. Even dull. The most excitement you had was going to the living room and looking out the window. The season had changed to spring. The sun shone out more and beautiful flowers flourished. But you could not go out and smell or even pick one. Out to the countryside, and the white buildings. And the white church- where once it would be your wedding and, in a way, a second home post-marriage. Now it only stood as a reminder of the only ceremony you’d be involved in next was a funeral. When it became too much, you would move back to your bedroom. To your sickbed-your deathbed.

You laid in that bed looking up at Will as he paced about in his black sweater that afternoon.

“What is it? Is it me?” you asked.

“There’s…there’s going to be a dance tonight…” he announced.

You shrugged in your bed and then made a little laugh.

“Oh, Will! Go on and go! Dance away! Have a little fun for a while!”

“But if you should die?”

“I’m sure father will get you! Go charm all the ladies like you do in your fine suit! Dance with them! Dance with Stella, Violet, Clara- Go dance with Cora, even!” you said.

“Are…are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes! Go dance with the new widow and enjoy yourself for a night!” you encouraged.

He nodded, said his goodbyes, and then left.

Each day, you wanted to cry from watching out the window. Taking it all in- each minute getting closer to the last as your body shook with every bloody cough.

Hours became days. Days became weeks.

Oh, how little you took for granted! The beautiful sloping hills! The sound of the ocean right by the town! To never watch the flowers bloom in spring! To never watch the snow when it drifted down or complain about the summer heat. To never see another Christmas or Easter or any celebration ever again!

You saw walking by the people you got to know and love. Yes, even Mrs. Cora Seaborne- she moved in with her tiny son not long after your engagement. You could see her grey cloak and the way she turned her chin up in pride when she passed by other ladies, going about her “experiments” without a corset on. You heard her talk about her dislike of wearing them-even though you knew corsets were perfectly functional and comfortable. Did she know you didn’t have to tight lace? That you had to wear a slip beneath it? You saw women bike with them and pictures of female athletes with them. So why couldn’t she?

You took note of every teary visit from friends, family, and neighbors who heard. But not to see them- nor any of your other friends…Then oh! You wouldn’t see your closest friend! Dear Stella! To never see her smiling in her garden again! To never more help add to her collection of blue items! To count them in her little brown boxes! Her stones and pillows and flowers and spools and go over the most interesting gossip in the town with her! You took note of any personal blue items you had to be left to her after you were gone.

But you would watch her go about, waving to you. You would watch and observe anyone else passing by your town from that window for hours.

Since your diagnosis you have been left alone often. Your parents slept over at a neighbor’s house. There were visitors, but they did not stay long. The risk of infection, they said. You spent your days isolated, dressed in your nightgown and tea robe, your engagement ring glittering on your finger.

But there was one sight you were not used to seeing.

A stray black cat. No one went up to claim him as their pet. Many people shrugged it off. Some smiled at it and then walked that way.

You were not used to seeing stray cats in Aldwinter. One would think it was a common sight. There were farms and wildlife. People kept pets. Even your fiancée took his dog out to frolic around. But a stray cat wandering around? No, everyone knew to keep their pets inside. Lest they be taken by a large bird of prey or wander out into the wild for all sorts of nasty things to happen to them.

Beneath your blankets on your cushion, you couldn’t help but notice the black cat on the street. You leaned closer to the window to where your breath fogged the glass. A smaller black cat- lean but shiny in his fur. He had big green eyes and long whiskers. He looked around. He liked to go up to people and follow them. Sometimes he stared and meowed at people. He would wander away and then return. Often, he looked at you from your window.

The poor cat. It hadn’t eaten anything all day. It must have been starving.

You went over to the set that had your tea. There was a saucer full of milk. Slow but constant, you walked over to the kitchen to a bowl. You poured the milk in it. Then you walked outside.

“Here kitty-kitty,” you urged, offering the bowl. Clicking your tongue to lure the cat closer.

With a cheerful meow, the cat trotted up to you. He raised his tail straight up in friendliness. He sat down and began to lick the milk. Each little scoopful from the pink tongue that shot from his soot-colored face. But his loud purrs could not lie. You went back into the house. When you returned, you had a small plate with scraps of meat. The plate was filled up, especially since your appetite lowered with the consumption.

“I think you might be hungry too,” you said.

The cat meowed in response and began to eat the meat. Then he went up to you, rubbing against your legs and purring. Then he stretched up his front paws against your skirt. Full of fondness, he blinked slowly at you. You leaned down and found he let you pick him up. A feral cat wouldn’t let you do that-then was he an abandoned pet?

“Oh, poor little thing!” you cooed, settling him to rest over your shoulder like a baby.

He continued to purr, not struggling to get out. Then he curled up like a baby in your arms.

“You’re a sweet fellow, aren’t you? And quite handsome too!” you cooed.

You scratched the top of his head.

“I’ll make sure to feed you. Or maybe you could stay with me …” you offered.

He perked up, eyes intend on you.

“I’m not sure what Will would think of a cat staying with us- you’ll have to share with a dog. Maybe I could talk to him into it. You could live with us once we’re married…” you spoke out loud to the cat.

Then a cough rattled your body, you lifted an arm to it. Then when you lowered it, you saw blood on the sleeve.

That is…if you lived to be married at all.

You set the cat down and he hopped. Then he stood and looked at you, slowly blinking. Then, with a lifted tail, he trotted away. So much for having him in the house- but at least then it wouldn’t reek of cat excrement.

The cat did not return throughout the night or the next morning. Perhaps he was exploring the wild. But you left a bowl of milk and some meat scraps in the kitchen just in case. But the further the day went, the weaker you felt. Then you realized it was a struggle to get out of bed-your weakness tripled today. Your body burned with a fever, but you stayed beneath your blankets. You coughed out constantly into a handkerchief. And when you took it out, you saw blood in a puddle in the cloth. Your own life trickling out with every drop. You laid back down on the bed, but despite your exhaustion, you were unable to sleep. To think-this was it. You were going to die now. This was the end- and you wouldn’t be comfortable and surrounded by those you loved. You would be alone.

Dear heavens above…please…someone…anyone…help me…

Then you heard a sound.

A meow.

Turning your head up, you saw the black cat. The same one. And you kept your door shut.

“How’d you get in here?” you welcomed, though the sound came out like a wheeze.

Then you laid back down, giving into another bloody coughing fit into your handkerchief.

Then a voice- smooth, rich, and lilting and familiar spoke.

“Why, it’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

You paused. Then you began to turn your head around. You saw no soul save the black cat sitting on the floor.

“Who’s there?! Who?” you called out.

There was a flash of green light. It was so bright you squeezed your eyes shut. But when you opened, before you was a man.

A man who wore the strangest clothes you ever saw- green and black robes and pants made of leather and bits of hard gold armor around it. Even something like coat tails draped behind his legs. But you couldn’t deny he was the most beautiful man you laid eyes on- ivory skinned and raven hair that fell to his shoulders. A high forehead and cheekbones with soft blue eyes.

“Hello there, Y/N,” he greeted.

You pulled up your blankets to your chest- a man seeing you in only your nightgown? You might as well have been naked!

“Is…is this a joke?! Is someone playing tricks on me?!” you turned around. Maybe an old friend would pop out of a door and cry “surprise!” No one did.

“Oh, I may be a trickster, but it’s no joke…” he replied.

“How did you turn into a cat?”

“Being a magician and god of mischief has it’s perks,” he replied.

“A-a god?! I thought there was only one God!” you repeated incredulously.

“Well- let me introduce myself. I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard.”

Your grip on the blankets grew tighter. You felt yourself run cold despite your fever.

“This…this is a dream,” you dismissed.

He half-smiled.

“I may look like a ladies dream- but no, Y/N my dear- this is quite real,” he answered.

“Have…have I been praying to the wrong deity this whole time!?” you cried.

He sauntered two steps closer to you.

“I don’t usually receive prayers. But I hear yours- yours are pretty clear…” he said.

He looked down at the bloodied handkerchief in your hand. In one corner were more handkerchiefs- all full of blood.

“You are dying.”

“Never heard that before,” you scoffed.

He smiled at your words and then continued.

“You will die very soon. Maybe in a week. Maybe in a day.”

He looked down at your hand, cocking an eyebrow at the shining ring on your finger.

“And it’s far too bad the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter will never have his bride! A perfect lady to the perfect priest for his perfect ministry in a perfect town and a perfect life.”

“What do you want from me!?” you prodded.

He tilted his head, keeping his smile.

“Is this how you speak to someone trying to help you?”

You clutched the blankets further over your nightgown.

“Help me?! You’re here for my-my-my body! I heard all the stories of pagan gods like Zeus! I know what they do to mortal women!”

He chuckled “I am a Norse deity, darling. And your vicar- this Will Ransome- is far more of a Zeus than I am.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever! It doesn’t matter- Loki, Do I have to sleep with you to save myself?”

He smirked.

“How very tempting. But no.”

“You wouldn’t make this without wanting something for yourself!” you spat.

With a flick of his wrist, he moved a chair in your room to scoot forward by your bedside.

“I am only here to help you- like I said. You know I have magic to do so. I just turned from a cat to a rather handsome bloke resembling your dear Lusty Vicar right before your eyes, hmm? Have you thought of what else I could do?”

“What can you do?” you asked.

His eyes widened as he sat down to see you, looking into your eyes. He kept his mischievous smile on his face.

“I can heal you.”

“Completely?!” you cried.

“Yes, my dear Y/N. You gave me your milk and food. So, consider it as a thank-you for your generosity.”

Though you leaned forward, you paused. These things were often too good to be true. You would not be fooled. And if he was really a fairy, like some say would wander about the forests- this would have a price. One did not enter a deal with them lightly.

“What is the price? This cannot be freely given,” you dismissed.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement of your words.

“Ah, someone who knows the way this works, I see. As if I ever doubted you. The spell, to go through and heal the person…the healed person must live with the spellcaster for one week out of the month.”

You crinkled your nose.

“Live with a man? I might as well be your whore!” You accused.

His smile never faded.

“Perhaps that’s what they’d say of you- but at least you would be a healthy whore,” he quipped back.

You felt a cough trickle your throat and you swallowed it back to ask him further.

“Where do you live?”

“In another realm, in Asgard- it’s rather like your time and place. Same old-fashioned attitudes about women. Only with much larger castles and higher buildings. But you will be safe and soundly returned to your world and wait for the next month.”

“Does it have to be every month? Could it be every year?”

“It must be every month.”

You tried to sit up. Then you felt his hands position you to sit up-leaning against the headboard. You glanced at him, seeing his features grow gentle about helping you. Then you crossed your arms and shot him with a glare. You would not lower your defenses to him easily- even if he was some kind of magical god!

“Make it three days! No- one!” you insisted.

Loki shook his head.

“It is one week. Or you can kiss your life and your precious priest goodbye.”

You took in a shuddering breath. Your own lungs weakening by the seconds, and it sounded like a wheeze.

“No one’s going to believe me! What shall Will think? What will my parents or his think?” you fretted.

“Why do you care what Will thinks-what anyone thinks! Your own thoughts should be what matters. What do you think, Y/N? It is your choice…would you like to die of consumption? Or live your life as normal and planned…and just take a little trip every month.”

You coughed again. Again, there was blood. You crumpled the handkerchief into your fist, never lowering your eyes off his.

“How will…anyone believe me? How am I going to explain this to them?” you fretted.

“You will tell them the truth…”

You lowered your hands, grabbing your blanket into a fistful.

“That I’m living with a man from another world?! Other than the one supposed to be my husband?! Go to hell, scoundrel!” you cursed.

“Such talk from a Victorian lady! Much less one betrothed to a Holy man!” Loki chuckled.

“Sounds like you've never talked to an actual woman before. Even ladies can fight back when we have to!” you argued.

“If you wish it- such a pity I offered to save your life and you couldn’t accept it. Oh, well- it is your fate and your decision…” Loki said.

He got up from the chair. A swirl of green light began to swirl, starting from his boots and going up, up- he was already beginning to fade.

You rattled. You could feel life slipping out of you. Minute by minute. Slow and painful. You would never enjoy life in its simple beauty again. You would never see your family again. You would never see your friends again.

And you would never marry Will. And he would be alone, left to mourn you for all his days.

You didn’t want to die like this.

And for Will…for Will, you would sell the clothes on your back. This was the unbridled nature of love. For Will, you would walk across hot coals. For Will, you would jump into the ocean near the town. And for Will, you would make this deal with this devil.

“Wait!” you shouted, lifting a hand to stop him.

The green swirls dropped, melting like mist in the sunshine. Loki turned to you, his head tilted and his eyes with a glint in them.

“Do the spell. Make it happen. I’ll stay with you for a week every month,” you said.

He smiled.

“Excellent.”

He walked forward. Then he opened his large, white hand.

“Give me your hands, Y/N, my dear. This might hurt for a bit,” he warned.

He returned to the chair by your side. You reached over and eagerly grabbed his hands with both of yours. He closed his eyes. Green light surrounded around and over you. It filled and surrounded your room in an emerald glow. There was a sound of roaring wind that filled your ears. Pain seared your body and you let out a shout out of instinct. It filled up your body- surging from your forehead and toes until it centralized to your lungs.

But it was only for a few seconds.

Then it stopped.

Loki was still smiling as the green light swirled down to you and faded with the pain. Taking in a breath, it was deep and free from pain. You felt no urge to cough, and your limbs did not feel weak. Your head had cleared.

When you glanced down at your hands, they each had a black mark on them- a small star. When you tried to rub them off, they remained. It wasn’t ink.

“What’s this?” you asked.

Loki folded his arms and shrugged.

“You didn’t ask! But I shall explain- a reminder of the spell and your promise. But I see that the lovely color of your face has returned! Now…can you get up?” he asked.

You found you got out of bed easily. Your belly rumbled for want of food- your appetite had returned. You breathed in deep-your lungs as normal again. When you took a glance in the mirror of your vanity, you saw that indeed your face looked as it had before you fell sick. Loki walked over to look at your reflection too, just from behind you.

“How do you feel?” Loki asked, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

“Like…like myself again…” you dazed, astonished at the transformation.

You turned around to see him. He was only inches away from your face. Then, just as any gentlemen, he took your hand and kissed you right on the star. You hated how flustered and giddy it made you feel.

“Wonderful. My job here is done. I shall see you in a month, Y/N darling…” Loki promised.

He became a gleam of green light and then vanished.

Like a newborn fawn, you became used to having strength in your legs. You stretched them. You got dressed in your normal clothes- a shift, corset, petticoats, bustle, and a green dress. Then got to the kitchen. You found you were hungry again. You boiled a kettle for tea and began to pick off fruit from the bowl. Then you selected a slice of bread and ate it with the fruit, as well as gulped down all your tea. Not a crumb or sip was left.

There was a knock on the door and in walked your parents. They lowered their jaws to see you sitting at the dining table with the empty platter.

“Y/N! Why aren’t you back in bed?” your father asked.

“I feel…I feel…I feel fine. I feel good,” you said.

They ran to you. Your father pressed a hand to your forehead and felt that it was cool. He stayed with you as your mother fetched the old doctor. After he examined you, his jaw dropped. He took off his glasses, polished them with his jacket, and then put them back on. He re-examined you and then turned to your parents, his face turning white with shock.

“There’s no cure for consumption. But all her symptoms. They vanished. We’ll keep an eye on her but…she is a healthy woman.”

“Surely, you gave her no medicine without telling us!” Your mother cried.

“No…none!” he said, taking off his glasses in shock.

“Oh, it’s a miracle! Please- someone fetch Reverend Ransome from his duties! He must know this!” your mother cried as she reached over and hugged you.

Your father hugged you too.

“Why- just in time for the wedding next month!” he said with a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. But out of joy, not sadness this time.

They released their hugs and buzzed about to announce the news. The three words repeating out of all of them like excited parrots.

“It’s a miracle!”

Looking down, you saw the black stars on both of your hands. You would wait until the time was right. The time to explain the price that came with your miracle.

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