#his death was the hardest blow she had to recover from

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The Guardian, Chapter 5

In which we find out how Mildrithe ended up in Haldir’s care and some momentous decisions are made about her future. This is the last formal chapter, though there is an epilogue still to come. Prior chapters are here: one, two, three and four.

For the final time, here’s what I’ve deemed the official art of this little story, drawn by the very generous @brigwife

**********

It was late into the night by the time Mildrithe had finished relating her tale and later still before she had calmed enough to attempt any rest. Idhrien helped her to wash her face with a cool cloth to soothe her red, puffy eyes, and Haldir sat with her at their bedside, keeping a quiet watch until she finally gave in to exhaustion and drifted to sleep.

When he emerged from the bedroom at last, Idhrien was waiting for him, and she took note of his bowed head and slumped shoulders as he closed the door behind himself.

“It’s difficult to hear so much talk of violence and death from one so young,” she said, looping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. “But take comfort in knowing that you brought her to safety. Whatever happened in her past, her future doesn’t have to look like that anymore.”

“I fear it will be a long time before she can put that past behind her. If ever. Any one piece of her story would be hard enough on its own, but when you put them together…” The sentence drifted to an end, and he looked down at the floor. He had seen his share of brutality and tragedy over the ages – far more than any mortal would ever see during their brief time in Middle Earth – but he had a peaceful childhood first. His parents had shielded him from the worst of the world, kept him from learning the hardest truths until he was old enough to better understand them. To have had those truths thrust upon him at such a tender age as Mildrithe’s was unimaginable to him. He wasn’t certain he would have recovered.

“Children are resilient, Haldir. She has a will to live, or she wouldn’t have made it this far. She can still thrive. And if she hasn’t given up, neither should you.”

She tightened her arms around him, and the combination of her words and her grip put strength back into his spine. He straightened his shoulders and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “You’re right. Fate has dealt her some heavy blows, but it also put her in our path. And maybe we can help to fix it all now.”

They sat together at a small table and went back over every part of Mildrithe’s story, trying to isolate the details that might lead them to an idea of where she belonged and how to return her there. It was a confusing chain of events, pieced together from the incomplete knowledge of one far too young to comprehend the entirety of her own situation. He already knew the end of the tale – that when the company she was traveling with had been set upon by orcs, she fled to the nearby forest during the chaos – but the beginnings were much harder to decipher. Mildrithe gave them the name of her village, but she had no sense of where it sat within the borders of Rohan. She described an unexpected attack in the night but had no real idea who the attackers were or what motives they had. And when those attackers, mocking and contemptuous, had carried her off as the sole survivor of the village, she knew the misery and terror of that long journey but not its intended destination or purpose.

Her story had come out in irregular bursts, moving quickly and more assuredly over the parts that involved only herself, but lingering painfully on the descriptions of those who were now gone – friends, neighbors, her parents, an aged grandfather, and a beloved older sister, whose last act had been to shove Mildrithe into the small closet where she had weathered the worst of the fighting that night. All those loving presences in her life, cut down in a few short minutes, existed now only in her memories, which were themselves tenuous and fragmented.

“We have the name of the village. Surely we could find it and deliver her there,” said Idhrien. “We have maps, and the people of Rohan could steer us as needed.”

“But by her telling, the village no longer stands. It was burned to the ground when she last saw it, and who would have been left to rebuild? If she seemed certain of one thing, it was that she was the only one to make it out of there alive.” He rubbed a hand across his face and frowned. “What about the uncle she mentioned? The one who journeyed a long distance to visit them at Yule last year? If he lived elsewhere, then he likely survives, and we may be able to find him.”

Idhrien shook her head. “Haleth is a very common name in Rohan. With only that to go by and no idea of where to look, I fear it would be searching for a single leaf in the forest.”

They sat for a few minutes in quiet thought, both hoping for some inspiration to guide their fruitless efforts. When none came, he stood to pace and stopped only when the first hint of morning sun appeared in the window, throwing a warm square of light into his path back and forth across the floor. He sighed.

“I told Lord Celeborn last night that I would be back early to discuss the situation with him more fully. Perhaps I should go now before she wakes up again. Can you stay with her until I’m back?”

“Of course.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure he’ll know what to do. He always does. If she wants to return to Rohan, he’ll find the right place for her to go.”

Haldir nodded and slipped out the door, and he was halfway down the stairs before his wife’s final sentence echoed back on him with enough force to stop him in his tracks. If she wants to return. All of his plans until this very moment had pointed in the same direction – to find a way to safely reunite Mildrithe with her people. But if those closest to her were all gone, if her only memories in Rohan were tainted now by heartbreak and fear…would she even want to go? It was the simplest of questions and, yet, one he hadn’t even considered. And as he pondered it now, it led him directly to an even more unexpected thought, one that dominated his mind as he walked back to the center of the city: maybe she could stay.

***

Celeborn was ready to receive him despite the early hour, and he listened carefully to Haldir’s recitation of all that he had learned from Mildrithe during the night.

“So there is no way to find a living member of her family to take charge of her in Rohan?”

“That seems to be the case,” said Haldir. “Unless you can see a clue that I’ve missed.”

“It’s a shame.” Celeborn shook his head slightly. “But if no family of her own can be found, then the Rohirrim will find a new family for her. It will be a more complicated matter to make the appropriate inquiries, but I’m sure it can be managed. Will you and Idhrien continue to care for her until we’ve made the right arrangements?”

“Yes, Lord Celeborn. If she has to return, we can—”

“If?” Celeborn cut in and fixed him with a long stare. “I was not aware there was any question on that point, Captain.”

The intensity of his gaze sent a flush creeping across Haldir’s cheeks and neck. He hadn’t intended to provoke a debate, but Idhrien’s words were still fresh in his mind and the ‘if’ came out before he had even realized it. “I only meant that she may not be eager to go back, given all that happened there.”

“So you propose that we keep this child in Lórien instead?”

“I’m not proposing anything.” The conversation felt like it was slipping out of Haldir’s control, the words getting ahead of his own thoughts. “I merely suggest that if it made her happy to stay here, such a thing could be possible.”

“Anything is possible. That doesn’t make it advisable. She’s a child of the plains, a mortal with no connection to our people or our way of life. She doesn’t belong in our forest, where she will be without peers. Without anyone who can truly understand her or know her feelings and experiences by instinct rather than only by careful study. She will be better served by being sent back.”

Everything he heard sounded both sensible and wise to Haldir, and yet something deep within him continued to resist. And to his amazement, he found himself arguing with the most powerful man in Lórien. “But Lord Celeborn, she would not be the first child of Men to live among the elves. It’s been done before with success.”

“And it has also led to ruin and destruction.” Celeborn sighed and softened his tone. “I do not mean to compare this little Rohirrim to the likes of Túrin Turambar. There is no shadow in her spirit, I could see that well enough myself last night. But the Men who have lived successfully with elves did so because they had a connection to us already. Estel did not just wander into Imladris to live with a stranger. His coming was part of a longstanding tradition, and he was already known to Elrond. This Rohirrim has no one here.”

“She has me.” His words surprised even himself as they came from his mouth, so quick and so certain. But once they were spoken, he knew they were true feelings of his heart. He raised his chin and met Celeborn’s eye.

“So that’s what this is about? Your wish isn’t just to see her stay in Lórien, but to see her stay with you.” He pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “If she wants to return to Rohan, you will take her, Captain. If she wants to stay, I won’t presume to tell you or Idhrien what to do with your own household. But I urge you to think this through. What seems like a good idea now may be something you all grow to regret in the future. Decide carefully.”

He rose to leave, and Haldir bowed his head before turning to walk back home again.

He couldn’t really account for his own words and behavior that morning. The depth of his attachment to Mildrithe continued to surprise him. As someone who always knew his own mind, it was disorienting to discover his feelings only as they came from his lips. And even while he was still reeling from those discoveries, the invocation of Idhrien sent a fresh wave of uncertainty over him. He had discussed none of this with her in advance and had no real idea how she would feel about his burgeoning hope to keep Mildrithe in his life. Their partnership was sacred to him, and he would do nothing that lacked Idhrien’s full support. But he felt a nervous flutter in his chest at just the idea of raising the question, and he hurried his steps to get back to her as quickly as possible.

***

When he returned home, Idhrien was no longer at the little table in the front room. He could hear the quiet murmur of voices from further back and followed them to the doorway of his bedroom.

Mildrithe was awake again and wearing one of Idhrien’s tunics as a dress. They were curled up together, and Idhrien had one of his sketchbooks in her hand, the one he used to create little forest scenes during his off hours on patrol. She was turning the pages for Mildrithe slowly and talking about the scenes as she went, spinning an impromptu tale that he couldn’t understand but that seemed to hold Mildrithe’s rapt attention.

He kept quiet and stood just outside the room, watching the two of them cuddled together and looking so comfortable. So natural. So right. A powerful feeling welled up in his chest, a rush of happiness and contentment mixed with melancholy and longing, and a thought crystalized in his mind with absolute clarity. This is something that I want.

Idhrien broke off mid-sentence to look up in his direction, and he realized that she had heard his thought in her own mind. She gazed at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, before Mildrithe, too, looked up and saw him there. She rushed out a bunch of enthusiastic sentences, pointing frequently to the sketchbook, and he waited patiently until she was finished and Idhrien could translate for him.

“She likes your pictures of the fox and the fawn, and we’ve decided that they met and became friends in the forest. She wants you to teach her to draw so that she can make a whole book about their adventures together.”

He smiled. “I would be happy to teach the fawn how to draw.”

Idhrien set the sketchbook aside and said a few words to Mildrithe, and they rose from bed to have breakfast now that Haldir had returned. Idhrien nearly emptied their pantry, piling options onto the table for Mildrithe to choose from, and soon she was deep into her own enjoyment as she sampled all sorts of cakes and breads and fruits that were new to her. With Mildrithe thus engaged, Haldir took a seat at Idhrien’s side and covered her hand with his.

“You must think me irrational and foolish.”

“You’re many things, Haldir, but you have never been either of those. I know you and your heart. You are not a rash person. If this is something you feel drawn to, I know that it must be a deeply rooted feeling.”

“That doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous how? That you see someone in need and want to help? That you had an intense experience that bonded you together? That you have love in your heart to give?”

He squeezed her hand. “That I could expect my wife to share those inclinations suddenly and without warning?”

She sat back in her seat and took a long, deep breath. “It would be ridiculous to think that I could understand everything of Mildrithe and your experience together from the small time I’ve had to take it in. But my natural impulse is to want to support you in all things, just as you do for me. And it’s not as though we’ve never talked about having young ones around.”

“This is very different than an elf child of our own making.”

“Yes. And you should go into this very clear-eyed about the implications and consequences of that. For her and for us.” She smiled at him. “But I am willing to try.”

He pressed her hand to his lips, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude, but she leaned in closer to him and looked him directly in the eye.

“But Haldir, she must want to stay. The choice must be hers, always.”

They both looked over at Mildrithe, who peered up at them from behind her pile of treats, aware from the energy in the room that something momentous was being discussed.

“Will you tell her?” he asked. “Explain to her what her choices are. Make sure she understands what they both mean and that only she controls the choice. That she can take as much time as she needs or ask as many questions as she wants or change her mind at any point.”

Idhrien drew her chair closer to Mildrithe and spoke for many long minutes. Mildrithe asked one or two questions but otherwise sat in silence. At times, her eyes widened or brow furrowed, and she looked increasingly troubled the longer that Idhrien spoke. He took a few deep breaths, readying his own expectations and making sure that he could greet whatever response she gave without outward disappointment on his face.

When Idhrien finally finished speaking, Mildrithe turned to Haldir once more and asked him a question directly. A tear or two welled up in Idhrien’s eyes as she listened, and he watched anxiously, unsure of what could be said that would have that effect on her.

“She asks if you think her parents would be disappointed in her for leaving Rohan.”

He swallowed hard on the lump that immediately formed in his own throat. Having been through so much, she was still thinking of others, and his heart wrung with pity. He reached across the table to take her hand. “I think they would be sad about what has happened, but they would be even prouder of you for how strong you are. And more than anything, they would want you to be happy. That’s all that any of us want. Choose whatever will make you happiest.”

Mildrithe listened to the translated answer and thought quietly for several minutes before speaking again to Idhrien.

“She wants to tell you something herself.” Idhrien nodded at Mildrithe, who got up and walked around the table until she was standing before Haldir.

She looked him directly in the eye and tapped her own chest before uttering one of the only words they had in common: “Lórien.”

He drew in a sharp breath, hardly daring to believe that he understood her correctly, but a quick glance at Idhrien confirmed everything and he thought his heart might soar right out of his chest. He scooped up Mildrithe and reached for Idhrien, and for a time he held onto them both, his mind bouncing rapidly from joy to terror to wonder and relief. Amidst all the turmoil, though, one feeling rose above the others, and he breathed out that feeling in his very first words to his new family. “Thank you.”

**********

Note: You’ll see an appearance of osanwé here, a concept Tolkien developed but didn’t often use explicitly. It means, essentially, the interchange of thought, and all peoples are capable of doing it as long as both minds are willing/open (though humans rarely master it, so it’s much more common among Ainur and elves). That’s canon. And I think because they are married and their connection is so deep, it can happen between Haldir and Idhrien even when he isn’t consciously intending it. As partners, their default is to be always open to each other, and when he has an insight as powerful as this one was, he can’t help but share it with her even before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.

@emmanuellececchi @konartiste as requested

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #haldir #lórien #mildrithe #last chapter #minus an epilogue still to come

[crescentblossom66]

Dead Bird Metro: The Tale of two Girls Chapter 11

TW: Blood and minor character death

The very first thing he noticed as he came to was the quite humming of the fluorescent light in the room that he found himself in. The second thing that caught his attention was the intense almost boiling pain in his back that he felt the moment he moved a muscle. It felt like a myriad of tiny, hot needles were digging into his flesh, the sensation caused him to stiffen to avoid moving the huge area on his back that was affected.

All the penguin remembered was a wave of singeing heat. so overwhelming it felt like lava hit his back. Considering what happened, he found it a miracle that he was even alive. Were was no doubt in his mind that his club exploding had something to do with the Leowles. Only the Conductor would be derange enough to blow up a building with innocent civilians in it, no doubt was the bomb his doing.

The DJ opened his eyes slowly, the harsh, bright light blinding him temporarily as he turned to take in his surroundings. Just as he had already expected, he was in some kind of hospital room. As he looked around, he noticed something strange, there were no noises around him anywhere. No nurses rushing about helping patients, no footsteps, no people talking, it was eerily silent. Silence was something he disliked a lot, somehow it made him feel nervous and unsettled every time there was nothing going on around him. It made him feel all alone. It made him feel abandoned.

He shrugged that feeling off and tried to focus on getting up in the least painful way possible. He knew that the police was probably going to interrogate him, and that he would be judged for his crimes as soon as he had recovered enough. He wondered if his penguins were alright, he had warned as many as he could before the explosion, but considering how badly injured he was, it appeared to have been powerful enough to destroy the whole building. He wondered how Bow was doing, she wasn't at the hideout when the bomb went off, maybe she managed to escape unscathed. He really hoped so. The girl had been trying her hardest to help him and she had taken on so much responsibility, she even managed to get the one whom he had to thank for these injuries to jail, that served the old owl right!

With a groan and a wince, he managed to sit upright, he found that almost his whole body was wrapped in bandages, only his face and his left wing were unharmed it seemed. Every step on the cold, white linoleum floor hurt, not to mention that walking without his plateau-shoes on was so incredibly...weird, it felt like a part of who he was was taken away. His beloved shades and his dazzling, red jacket weren't around either, that was to be expected though, he had probably undergone some form of surgery to get the shrapnel from the blast removed...still, he felt kind of under-dressed without them. He found an IV-drip-stand and used that to support himself. The penguin carefully opened the door to the long hallway and peeked through the crack just to make sure no one was around. It was likely that he was deemed to dangerous and kept away form the rest of the hospital due to this. Maybe it wasn't just him, the other Penguiads that got hurt might be around on this floor or wing of the hospital, too!

-

Another day with almost no patrons, he stared down the cup of black tea that had now gone cold as he contemplated just going back to his boring, previous job. He loved music, and he loved this little club that he had poured his heart and soul into repairing. By now he had little to no money, if this continued he would have no choice but go back to programming boring security systems. He only noticed that tears had begun to form in his eyes when one dropped down his beak and landed in the reddish liquid. The penguin wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his gray suit when a small group of three penguins entered.

“Hey, what's going on? Is the club closed tonight?” One of them asked bewildered, after he noticed the severe lack of music and the fact that the tall penguin was sitting in almost complete darkness, only a small red lava lamp placed near the bar provided any light in the huge room. DJ Grooves stared down at the liquid, not wanting to meet the worried expressions on the other penguins' faces.

“At the rate this is going, I might have to close permanently.” The smaller birds jolted, as they noticed the defeated tone of voice with which the club owner spoke a line that they dreaded.

“Y-You can't close this club, man! This is the best club the entertainment district has to offer!” The DJ smiled at the compliment, but still wouldn't look them in the eyes.

“I'm overjoyed that you think so, darling, but others seem to really disagree with you there-” He gestured around him with one flipper, “-as you can clearly see.”

One penguin sat down next to him while the others just hung their heads “I know why this isn't working out for you-” The DJ glanced at the other out of the corner of his eye, tilting his head ever so slightly to prompt the other to go on, “-This club may be flashy and stylish, but...no offense, you kinda...aren't.” He knew what the smaller penguin meant, compared to the rest of the establishment he was simply out of place.

“That was a bit rude, Marcus, look what you've done, he looks even more miserable now!” His two friends chimed in. Marcus only rose a flipper signaling that he wasn't done speaking yet. “But you're lucky, dude! We've decided that we'll help you be cool!” The other two looked at each other before cheering.

“Yeah! We'll help you find your style, this place will be bustling with people in no time!” The tall penguin turned around to them. He once again had to wipe away tears. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, those three wanted to help him, they liked his club so much that they wanted to make sure that it wouldn't close, that...actually made him very happy.

Those three kept their promise, Marcus, Dave and Martin had succeeded in helping him. Thanks to them he managed to gain more self confidence and he found that he really enjoyed his new DJ persona. Everything had been going great for several months, and he made sure that those three always got their drinks on the house.

While he was taking a short break, he noticed those same three birds sitting at the bar with their heads down, he obviously couldn't ignore that, no one was going to be sad in his club, least of all his best friends! The tall penguin made his way over to his disgruntled looking friends, stepping behind the bar while he told the bar tender that he'd take care of the three. He could barely hear what they were talking about due to the volume of the music and the loud chattering of the other patrons. The place was booming now, if someone had told him a few months ago that he'd have the most successful club in the whole metro, he would have not believed them.

“No! If we make even one mistake and step on the floor, we'll be behind bars for a lifetime, dude!” Martin told Dave who only waved it off.

“Still better than getting fried by those lasers, I'll take jail time over being barbecued anytime, homie.” Marcus just buried his head in his flippers, hitting the bar counter rather hard with his face.

“All of this sucks so much, man! If only we could just get rid of all those security measures! I just...I just want to help my sis.” The other two nodded.

“I wanna help my fam, too, and this is the only way I know how. I won't make enough money working 9 to 5 selling shoes.” The DJ remembered that most of the penguins were from a rather poor neighborhood, education and healthcare were not affordable to many, least of all them. He himself knew what they were talking about. He had lost his sister due to his family not being able to pay for her treatment, his parents died of grief a few months after, leaving behind a small amount of money, which he used to get better education. After years of struggle, he at least managed to land a decently paying IT job, however, that never made him happy. He loathed working with those monotone, uptight birds that always looked down on him, so when he found this club for sale he just had to buy it, even though he had to put a lot of resources into fixing it, but it was well worth it.

Dave finally noticed that he had arrived and gave him a friendly smile and a wave, “Hey, what's up, bro, everything going good?” The DJ gently placed a drink next to Marcus, whose face lit up as soon as he glanced up and saw who Dave was addressing.

“Everything's going great, darlings. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me. Is there something wrong? I couldn't help but notice that my favorite patrons weren't their usual selves.” The three birds looked at each other contemplating on whether they should let him in on the plan.

“Alright we're gonna let you in on a little something we've been planing...” Marcus when told him about their plan, which consisted of breaking into, and robbing a store, however, they had trouble figuring out a way to disable the security system.

They got nervous then they noticed that he took a deep sigh, that was the moment they wished that the taller penguin wasn't wearing his newly acquired star-shaped shades, they made it so hard to properly gauge his reaction. He contemplated on what to do for what felt like hours and the three penguins started to worry that he might just call the police and had them arrested for planning a robbery.

Helping the trio would put at risk everything he had worked so hard for, and to be honest he really didn't want to give up what he had now, it would be foolish to risk it. He looked back at the three and noticed the desperate gleam in their eyes, he knew that all three of them had been through a lot, Marcus' sister had persistent headaches that wouldn't go away, she needed to go to the hospital, but he and his family were very poor. Dave's family was in deep financial trouble after a car crash that they accidentally caused, and Martin had his dream about helping all the penguins in the slums.

“...alright, I'll see what I can do. Give me a few days, I have to prepare a couple of things.” The three birds almost dropped off their bar stools. Marcus even spilled the drink that he had placed on the counter, as he jolted in surprise.

“Y-You really mean it...You're gonna help us out?” He just nodded while Dave and Martin cheered.

“One hand washes the other.”

-

DJ Grooves dragged himself across the floor toward the closest door he could find, he opened the door slowly and peeked through the small crack, inside he could see two of his penguins, one of them got alerted by the door opening. Marcus rose a shaky, bandaged flipper in greeting.

“Glad to see you're still in one piece, boss.-” The music-loving bird entered the room with a smile, happy to see a familiar face. “-I knew that those wretched Leowles wouldn't be able to take you down.” He cast his eyes down after seeing just how injured the smaller penguin was.

“I'm sorry about all this darl-” He flinched under the harsh tone of the other bird, whose relief turned into annoyance.

“Stop apologizing, boss! You're doing all you can! we all know!-” Marcus cast his eyes down to the ground, sorrow clouded his face. “-...It's our fault that all of this happened...Dave, Martin and I should have never dragged you into all of this.” The DJ moved closer to his friend, even though it hurt, he bent down a bit to look his wounded friend in the eyes.

“Listen darling, I made that choice by my own volition. None of you have forced me to join you on that heist. You helped me realize my dream, so I helped you with yours. Besides, this isn't over, darling. Bow's still out there with the others, we'll jo-” The sound of glass shattering nearby alerted both penguins and they turned their heads toward the door, the other penguin in the room seemed to have woken up, startled by the loud noise.

The DJ carefully opened the door, his posture stiffened, which caused Marcus to force himself to stand. A group of cats had shattered a window nearby, and were checking the rooms one by one. He was in no condition to fight, nor did he really have anything to fight them off with. Stepping out into the hallway would be a death sentence. He looked around the room for anything that he could use and found a cup, which he shattered as quietly as possible and grabbed a huge shard of. Not really the a weapon he had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. The smaller penguin grabbed a folding chair that was placed in the room for visitors.

Both penguins hid behind the door frame and waited for their attackers to open the door, and as soon as they did, one of them took a glass shard to the throat while the other got hit by a chair on the head. The cat that got slashed by the shard, held his neck and stumbled, which prompted the tall penguin to kick him to the ground where he continued to bleed out. The other cat stumbled forward, delirious from the blow to the head, he got knocked unconscious by yet another attack. The penguins had no time to rest, however, three more entered the room and they could hear even more coming. With their advantage now gone, they realized just how bad the situation was. The DJ managed to dodge a well-aimed swipe to his throat by bending backwards, which gave him the opportunity to stab the shard deep into the side of the black feline. He barely managed to avoid a cat that used one of the beds to jump attack him- His fortune didn't last as he hit one of the bedside tables with his back which caused him so much pain that his body refused to move. The cat would have gotten him, if it wasn't for the quick thinking of the third penguin in the room that slammed the small, near-dull knife, that was left over form the meal he had that morning, into the leg of the cat, which gave Marcus enough time to help his boss.

The small penguin gave his boss a smile, but he seemed to have forgotten about the third cat which approached him from behind. A sharp, intense pain and the feeling of his own blood trickling down his flipper overwhelmed all other pain the DJ felt as he pushed Martin out of the way and rose a flipper to shield him from the relentless scalpel, that cut through his arm like a hot knife through butter. Marcus reacted with shock before he started to wrestle the cat for the weapon.

“Hang in there, boss!” The other penguin started to take the pillowcase off the pillow on his bed and wrapped it around his bleeding injury. DJ Grooves' vision started to turn blurry, but he had to hang on. A sharp yell of pain brought him back to reality and he noticed that the cat was lying in a pool of blood, motionless. He didn't have the scalpel in his paws, neither did his friend. A terrible thought entered his head when he approached the two and Marcus slowly stood up, the adrenaline preventing the small üenguin from realizing that the blade had struck a vital artery in his leg which caused him to bleed excessively.

“Marucus!...Don't move, darling, you have to-” The flippers of the leader of the Penguiads trembled and tears stained his eyes when the cold realization hit him that his friend would bleed to death before anyone could help him, the cut was to deep and the wound to severe, even he could tell.

The smaller penguin looked down at his leg and only chuckled. “I always figured that it would end like this, but as long as she'll live I don't care.” The penguin turned after hearing more steps in the hallway. He dragged himself over to his boss and shoved a USB stick and a key in his flipper. “Managed to save that one, boss. Figured you might need that, you once told me that the program on it is very useful. The key I swiped while the ambulance driver wasn't looking.” Marcus opened the window behind him and looked down, he was thankful when he noticed that they were only one floor above ground. “You have to make it, Grooves, you need to go and help Bow. Stay strong.” Even through the pain he forced a smile, which caused the tears the other was so desperate holding back to stream down his face.

“But...I can't, I can't just leave you here, darling!”

“I knew you'd say that.-” He tilted his head to the other penguin, before he grabbed the DJ's flipper“-Help me out here, man!” He got up, his leg almost giving out as he forced himself to grab the other flipper of the tall penguin. Before DJ Grooves could react to what they were doing, he was thrown out the window and landed in a small patch of grass. He laid still for a moment, waiting for the pain to pass before he forced himself off the ground, he could hear the fight above him. He wanted to cry out to them, he wanted to help them, but they had given him the opportunity to escape, and he wouldn't let them down. He would honor Marcus' last wish; he'd make sure that the other Penguiads would be safe.

#ahit fanfic #dead bird metro au #ahit hat kid #ahit bow kid #ahit conductor #ahit dj grooves #the confuktor

[laximpulsion]

do you guys ever wonder what faber might have said to the other girls to manipulate them?

some of them definitely would be easier to lay a guilt trip on - shelby and rachel come to mind; shelby obviously because of toni/martha and not flagging down the boat, and rachel because she already feels responsible for nora's "death". although rachel seems like she'd be the hardest to manipulate at this point, but nora is probably a vulnerable spot. and shelby seems like she'd be the easiest since shes a in pretty bad self-loathing spiral during the bunker :( EDIT: guilt would 100% also be the move for dot bc she already feels so responsible for the other girls

but i wonder if for others he had to try to like turn them against each other, or, better (worse...) yet, convince them that the other girls had turned on them - i feel like this would work on toni and fatin because i think they both kinda have low self worth and think everyone they love will leave them eventually; actually this would probably work on shelby too for the same reason plus she's always been concerned with other people liking her so it would be a big blow if she thought the other girls had turned on her.

im a little surprised he went for the guilt angle with leah but idk what else would've worked on her. i feel like shes immune to the idea of the girls turning on her bc she already thinks they dont believe her, and they couldnt possibly turn on her more than that (hm...sad)

but what was his approach with martha? or maybe they left her alone bc she was still recovering from her catatonic episode? (and that was why young had to go through her file and try to find dirt on her, since they weren't able to talk to her?)

#i already have lots of ideas about what i think he said to fatin #but im curious what others think #also sorry if the fandom has had this convo before and i missed it lol #the wilds #leah rilke #shelby goodkind #rachel reid #fatin jadmani #toni shalifoe #martha blackburn

[careful-please]

Realm three: Star Wars

I popped into a strange planet while arguing with the "Maker" about my "devotion to the mission." I just didn't care about anything they wanted. I just wanted to go home. In frustration I had to weave precariously throw laser blasts and sprinting soldiers. I ran straight into a crowd of panicking civilians right as the Jedi came into view. An unlucky hit to my shoulder blades had me on the floor in unimaginable pain. Phaser blasters hurt way worse than arrows. Who knew?

When I opened my eyes next we were already in orbit and all the refugees were being freighted to the Temple. Qui-Gon was assigned to be my minder while I recovered and I ended up earning his trust. I decided if every mission was going to involve pain and violence I needed to learn how to defend myself properly. Brute force wasn't going to cut it, I needed to be competent. So I trained with Obi-Wan in martial arts, pilot lessons, and tactical knowledge. I was growing closer to the master-padawan duo. Dangerously close.

I decided that Anakin's arrogance could be tempered by his mother's love and moved mother and son to a remote peaceful planet where the Sith and the Jedi never found them. But I still wanted Padme to be part of his life. It was tricky figuring a subtle way to introduce them so they would still fall in love. But eventually they married and Luke was born.

Convincing everyone to ignore the fact that I never visually aged or slowed down at all was easier than I thought. But Qui-gon was always watching. On his deathbed he asked I watch over Obi-Wan as he trained Luke. It was a rough day for everyone. And still I wasn't ready when Obi-Wan fell in battle several years later. Made harder to bear because in a moment of weakness I sent him on his final mission with a kiss.

Luke took it hardest, even snapping at his sister. She was already pregnant and Luke was struggling with the war and his master's death. I had to step up and ease his sorrow. When the war finally ended I moved my focus to Ben. I supported him when his parents were absent. I listened when others commanded. And that is how I kept him from Snoke. But it wasn't enough. The story wasn't over yet. Rey was still waiting.

They met by genuine accident. Ben was upset that Han had rushed off to another misadventure and decided to blow some steam off on Jakku. When I had caught up with him he was trying to pressure her into joining the Jedi. A few days of playing mediator and I got them both off the planet. Luke nearly lost his mind from the stress of the whole situation and tried to refuse to train Rey. I argued that if he wouldn't, Ben definitely would. And since Ben was still a young padawan Rey would likely develop bad habits if Luke persisted in his refusal.

Obviously he was suffering more from the war than he let on. So I dedicated some time to unraveling his fears. That was when I slipped right into the well of feelings I had tightly sealed off ever since the first day. We fell into bed together and I cried properly. The "Maker" was whispering about moving on to the next mission even though I wasn't quite done here. I was granted just enough time to see Luke make the final choice to sacrifice himself to save Rey and Ben from Palpatine. Just enough time to bury him and ensure the dyad bond was firm before I was pulled into the next realm.

Standing on the cliff overlooking Týr's temple, I swore to the false maker I would do everything to fight his purpose even though I knew I could never purposely endanger anyone to do so.

#carefulwrites #old realms #star wars

[sunbentsky-archived]

The relationship between Jolly and Angela wasn’t a daughter-mother one, not exactly. Jolly was a closed-off child, traumatized by severe poverty, witnessing and enduring great acts of violence, and having absolutely no support and guidence from an adult whatsoever. She didn’t know (doesn’t know, still) what having and being close to a parent should’ve been like. Angela, on the other hand, had no experience with children outside of her role as teacher and instructor. So all of this combined means that they weren’t affectionate or warm with each other. There was respect, care, and trust, but no motherly love.

#JOLLY ABOUT: fire is burning in the sky; the shepherd tends her flock #i'm having a jolly night leave me alone #but yeah anderson calling her child is the closest thing to familial love she ever experienced #from like. someone older not her peers #his death was the hardest blow she had to recover from #because she felt like she was that scared 16 year old who had just lost the tiny bit of hope she had left #but. this time she has other people who care for her and whom she can rely on #a safety net #and maybe. maybe she allows herself to fall back and be caught and carried back to safety every now and then #ANYWAY :') #the dash is slow rn so i can ramble fjkfe #poverty tw #death tw #ask to tag

[aminiatureworld]

Injury II

Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,650

Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.

This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much. 

I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!

Kaeya

Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.

Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.

You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”

The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.

“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”

“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.

“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”

“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”

The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”

“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.

“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.

It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.

Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.

Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.

Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.

“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.

Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.

The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.

Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.

Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.

“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”

“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.

“Were you afraid?” You asked.

“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”

“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.

 Ningguang

If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.

It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.

A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.

She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?

Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?

You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…

Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.

“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.

“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”

“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”

Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.

“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.

“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”

“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”

“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”

Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.

“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”

“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.

 Xiao

By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.

Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?

When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though  more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.

What a fool he’d been.

Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.

Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.

At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.

Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.

Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.

Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.

In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.

“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.

“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”

“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”

“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.

You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.

“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”

“What?”

“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.

Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.

“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.

Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.

And that was the love he held for you.

 Zhongli

If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.

One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.

But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.

He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.

The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.

You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.

How fragile humans are.

The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.

Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.

Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.

“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”

“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”

“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.

“We are because we must be.”

Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.

Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.

That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.

#my computer's about to die but this was totally worth it #also I never want to learn that much about burns again oof #tonight was wild #also I love ningguang so much aaa #kaeya #ningguang #xiao #zhongli #kaeya x reader #ningguang x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

[robinofinashiro]

“dear lord when i get to heaven / please let me bring my man / when he comes / tell me that you’ll let him in / father tell me if you can / 

request status: OPEN

pairing: mirai sasaki (sir nighteye) x fem! reader

note: send more MHA reqs. i’m having a mha hyperfixation and i can’t seem to get out of it !! plus for obvious reasons, no s4 spoilers bc i’m a good person who doesn’t want to spoil shit for anyone. 

“uh, Nighteye?” Mirio asked, staring at the front door, shocked, “sir?” he asked again. 

neither Sir Nighteye or Bubble Girl were paying attention to see the face on the high school students face. Mirio didn’t want know whether to interrupt their conversation or keep staring at who just came into the building but eventually, he called for Bubble Girl who finally looked up. 

“do you see what I’m seeing or am I just seeing things?” Bubble Girl said before kicking the side of Nighteye’s leg, “sir, look at who just walked into the building!” she whispered to him. 

finally, Nighteye looked up, feeling his heart come to a halt. you walked into Nighteye’s agency with a flock of fans following behind you as your manager talked to the front desk manager. 

“what is the fourth ranking pro hero doing here?” Mirio asked both Bubble Girl and Nighteye, “yeah Sir, what is she doing here?” Bubble Girl repeated. the two of them could see how Nighteye had yet to say anything but continued to stare at you. 

you were talking with the front desk manager who was blushing when you spoke to her. your smile was very contagious, it was hard not to fall in love with it when you were in close proximity with someone and his receptionist was no exception to that. 

Nighteye walked back to his office as quickly as possible as Mirio and Bubble Girl remained in place. it took a few minutes until Bubble Girl realized something. 

years back, when Nighteye first took her in, she had gotten him to spill a bit of his personal life to her. he had mentioned that he had once fallen in love with someone but due to personal reasons, it didn’t work out. his ex girlfriend had went her separate way around the time that Nighteye had became All Might’s sidekick. 

she had put together a few things that made her suspicious of Nighteye when it came to you. whenever there was a report and you came on screen, he seemed to have turned the TV volume up or shut it off completely. other times, he would see his eye linger on a magazine or newspaper cover when you were on it. 

the biggest indication of this as she now started to put the dots together was the few books or magazine covers he had of you that were hidden behind all the All Might merchandise. 

it was impossible to not who you were. you were ranked fourth in the Japanese charts and were constantly modeling for magazine covers or fashion lines. you were pretty well liked hero, coming up to the popularity standards of Hawks and Mirko. 

“that’s Sir’s ex girlfriend,” she whispered to Mirio. he gave her a confused look, not knowing whether to believe her or not, “how would you know?” he asked back, trying not to catch your attention. 

she quickly explained her theory to Mirio who in turn shook his head, firmly believing what she was saying. the two of them looked at each other before rushing over to the front desk and smiling at you, smiling the hardest they had ever smiled before. 

“hi, we’re Nighteye’s intern and sidekick, how can we welcome the illustrious fourth ranked hero to his agency?” Bubble Girl quickly said. you turned to them and stared for a moment, “nice to meet you Bubble Girl and?” you asked, turning to Mirio. 

“MIRIO!” he practically yelled, “MIRIO TOGATA OR RATHER LEMILLION!” he continued. you couldn’t help but laugh at his over enthusiastic talking, “we’re huge fans!!”

“that means a lot Mirio, say, would you happen to know if your boss is available?” you asked the two before seeing the man himself, walking out of his office. 

Nighteye saw his two employee’s talking to you as you talked to them without much hesitation or hurry. he gulped nervously before slowly walking towards Bubble Girl and Mirio. his hands were sweating and he couldn’t stop fixing his polka dotted tie. 

“Bubble Girl, Lemillion, you can take your lunch,” he told the two. both of them looked at Nighteye before shaking their heads, “no can do, Sir Nighteye. you told us yourself, we head to our breaks at precisely noon,” Mirio reminded him, “now, both of you,” he said a bit more sternly. 

“goodbye Mirio!! here’s my card if you ever want to talk heroics or you know, if Nighteye doesn’t treat you well,” you joked with a wink. he nodded, taking the card and thanking you profusely before Bubble Girl grabbed him by the shirt and dragging him away. 

the two of you stared at each other, you suddenly feeling a bit of tears threatening to spring into your eyes as you stared at your old lover. 

“took me long enough to find your agency,” you finally said with a chuckle. he remained silent, “so you’re going to stand there and not say anything to me?” you whispered to Nighteye. 

the receptionist who was trying not to eavesdrop wanted to yell at Nighteye for not saying anything but in reality, his eyes said everything. he had no idea if it was his brain playing tricks or the air that was blowing in his building but your hair was flowing like it would be in a movie and your smile just didn’t let him say anything. 

“what are you doing here?” he finally said, “what, I couldn’t drop by and tell my favorite hero hello?” you asked with your eyebrow raised. 

he shook his head no, “that’s not what i’m saying. what i’m saying is why did you drop by? did you want to talk negotiations on something?” he asked, “because we can step into a conference room with our sidekicks?” he added on. 

you gave him a look, “Mirai, I think you know why I’m here,” you whispered to him as he saw your tears wanting to spill again. he shook his head, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you over to his office, quickly locking the door. 

one look into his eyes had you crying into his shoulder as he held you. the stoic man could almost hear the hurt in your sobs as you tried to speak but your cries made it hard to comprehend what you were saying. 

+ 

Nighteye was patrolling the area of town that wasn’t very criminally active. he passed a store that had TV’s by the window, showing whatever it was playing to the civilians who passed by. 

upon first glance, he thought nothing of it but came to a halt when he saw the reports of an incident that was happening a two towns over with top ranked heroes and villains. the report stating that several heroes were down and severally injured. 

he immediately retracted, trying to hear the names of the heroes. his heart steadied hearing names of heroes he didn’t know or was close with but that thought was immediately put away when he heard your pro hero name. 

“( pro her name ) is to be amongst some of the heroes who was saved in the first round of rescue. ( pro hero name ) is the fourth ranked pro hero, her quirk a specialty to these types of scenarios. known for her charismatic and extroverted hero personality, we can only hope she recovers quickly and if possible, makes a come back to the hero scene.” 

Mirai stared at the screen, watching the news channel play highlights of your rescues and a slideshow with a few modeling gigs you had done. he knew you weren’t dead and he had no idea why the news cast was making it seems as if you were but he instantly ran down to his agency, a million thoughts running through his head. 

as soon as he arrived, he turned the TV on again, telling Bubble Girl to head home and pulled out his phone. he quickly dialed your agency, hoping they would answer his call but he was sent to a busy signal. after a few failed attempts, he thought of the next thing, actually visiting you. 

grabbing his keys, he ran to his car, hoping he didn’t get stuck in traffic and luckily, fate was on his side that day because he made it to the hospital that was reported to be where you were at. he knew that because he was a hero, they could probably break the rules a bit to let him in. 

“i’m here to see ( your name ),” he asked the front desk receptionist. her eyes fluttered in confusion, “are you her boyfriend, husband? we can’t let you in if you’re not related to her,” the receptionist replied. 

Mirai glared at her as he muttered that you were his ex girlfriend. the receptionist sighed before signing his name on a sticky with the relation tag being husband signed to it, “I could get into trouble for this but she’s in ICU ward. I don’t think anyone is in there so you’re free to visit,” she replied, giving Mirai the sticky. 

he knew he was too worried to be waiting for the elevator so he sprinted up the stairs, bumping into nurses and doctors, not caring if he hit anyone or not. as soon as he arrived to the room with your real last name on the whiteboard, he saw that the only person in the room was your assigned doctor. 

“how is she?” he practically yelled. the doctor jumped up a bit in fear. he read the sticky with his name and relation to you before nodding, “50/50. if she makes it out alive, she will never return to hero work. her injuries are too severe to ever come back from it. if she doesn’t, well i think you know where we go from there. i can leave you alone with your wife if you’d like?” he asked but came out as more of a statement. 

Mirai thanked him as the doctor shut the door and left him alone with you. he walked towards you, seeing your coma-induced body on the bed, seemingly lifeless to anyone who didn’t know your status. he had no idea when he started crying but eventually, he was sobbing over your body, saying incoherent things through tears. 

“i know i swore to you that i would never use my foresight on you and i’ll keep that promise as long as you promise to make it out alive. if i have to come back to hear that you're on your death bed, i will use it and that will be a future i will be determined to change.” 

you didn’t move as he watched the machine that roared with the status of your heart beat. he remained in the room for a while before seeing the doctor come in again, “we can call you if she wakes up,” the doctor informed him. Mirai sighed, “don’t,” he replied, not giving the doctor enough time to reply. 

knowing that he was better off trying to hide away from the crowd that was forming at the front of the hospital with your fans, he asked a doctor if he could the employee entrance to leave. 

he decided to head home, knowing that he wouldn’t get any work done if he had returned. on his way him, his finger tapped the wheel in anxiety. all he wanted to do was get home and hope that he would hear on the news that you were finally awake and in recovery. 

as he got home, he walked in, kicking his shoes off and going to his room. he went into his closet, pulling out a very old box that he hadn’t thought of in years. it was a box filled with photos of you and him. 

the photos were of a bunch of different dates or events. they were mostly taken by you but a few were from top free lance journalist, Taneo Tokuda. yeah, Mirai felt weird holding onto the photos but he couldn’t depart from them. in the back of his mind, he felt as though that break up wasn’t actually a break up. it felt more like a LONG break. 

in his hallway, he had a few of your magazine covers framed to make it seem like like a poster. he had put a few other hero around you to not make it weird but he every morning when he got up, he stared at the photos. you looked flawless in them. 

after he reminisced on the photos and covers, he shoved the box back into the closet and laid down, taking his tie off with anger and nervousness. 

a few weeks later, you woke up after being moved from the ICU to the regular hospital wing. you woke up to a blaring headache and your doctors immediately checking on your vision and anything else they couldn’t do while you were asleep. 

after they checked up on everything and made sure you were feeling okay, the few nurses left and you were now alone with your doctor. he looked at you with a small smile. 

“your husband came to visit but oddly, it was only once,” he murmured. you eyebrows fluttered in confusion, “my husband? mind telling me who that is?” you asked, now interested to hear the answer the doctor came up with. 

he stared back at you with confusion, “you don’t remember? are you having trouble remembering things?” he asked making you shake your head no, “Sir Nighteye! he came the first day you got here but he informed me not to call him when you woke and only came in that day,” he replied.

you rolled your eyes, of course it was Nighteye who visited you. you nodded, thanking the doctor for answering you as he continued to ask you questions to make sure you didn’t have any kind of other memory loss. 

once the doctor left, you felt yourself continuing to think of Nighteye. you knew better than anyone that your feelings for Mirai had never fully left. after the breakup, you continued to check up on him every so often. you had heard of the nasty break up he had with All Might and was tempted to call him to make sure he was okay but against your better judgement, you didn’t. 

the breakup between the two of you wasn’t nasty, not in the slightest. the both of you understanding that your lives were being lead into different directions for the time being. you congratulated him for being accepted as the sidekick to the top hero as he congratulated you for becoming the sidekick to another. 

you left the night of the breakup with a bittersweet feeling in your heart. you knew this wasn’t the last you would have saw him but it was going to be for a long while. the night ended with giving him a soft kiss and an exchanges of ‘be safe’. 

+ 

you finally pulled away to see Nighteye’s face. he stared at you as he slowly wiped your tears away and tried comforting you without trying to be awkward. 

“why? why did you visit me that day?” you asked. Mirai sighed, “we both know why I did,” he repeated your words from earlier. 

you shook your head, “no Mirai, give me an answer. that’s the least I deserve,” you said, “i couldn’t let you pass away without saying my goodbyes. we both know that’s what we would have done if the situation was reversed,” he responded. 

you couldn’t help but agree. you knew you would have if the situation was turned around. Mirai’s hold on you was still not released as you signed into his embrace. a feeling in your gut was making you think that his intern and sidekick was eavesdropping on the other side of the door. 

the two of your remained quiet, not knowing what to say for what felt like hours. it wasn’t until you noticed your magazine cover for the Hero Chart JP cover from a few years ago on his wall. 

“you hung that?” you asked him. Mirai nodded, “it was a great cover,” he responded with no hesitation. you laughed, “it really was. landed in third spot that year, behind All Might and Endeavor. no surprise there,” you joked. 

the two of you laughed, feeling the slight awkward tension finally drifting away. it wasn’t until you stopped laughing when you realized how close in proximity you were with Mirai when you felt yourself give him a kiss. the kiss filled with that longing feeling. 

it was another while until the two of you pulled away when you leaned your forehead against his. he smiled, wiping the stray tears that came down your face. 

“what does this mean for us? again?” you asked him. Mirai stayed silent for a moment, “it means to pick up from where we last left off,” he replied.

you smiled at him before bringing him into another kiss, “that’s fine with me,” you whispered. 

Mirai nodded as you heard two loud voices, screaming in happiness from the other side of the wall. you laughed, knowing it was Mirio and Bubble Girl who made it known that they were listening to the entire conversation. 

“i think your intern and sidekick heard the entire conversation,” you said playfully. Nighteye shrugged, “what else is new?” he chuckled, “i’ll just make them do overtime for it.” 

the screaming instantly turning into groans and arguments between the two of them as they heard what Nighteye had said. you remained in Mirai’s hug, laughing at both him and Mirio’s/Bubble Girl. 

#bnha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero x reader #mha #mha imagine #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #sir nighteye #sir nighteye imagine #sir nighteye x reader #mirai sasaki #mirai sasaki imagine #mirai saski x reader #anime #anime imagines #anime imagine

[hatake-no-sharingan]

Time travel AU (Part 3: Live for me)

AU Summary: The world is falling apart, and the Sage of the Six Paths sends Naruto back in time to find his parents and collect the thing that will help him and Sasuke save the shinobi.

Link to part 1: HERE

Link to part 2: HERE

Part 3 Summary: Naruto’s birth is here, and as much as he’d like to make time with his family last a little bit more, he has to face the thing that hurt him all his life, the loss of his parents. 

Characters in part 3: Y/N (as Naruto’s mom/ Minato’s wife), Minato, Naruto, Sasuke, Obito/Tobi, Kakashi and Sakura

Warnings: Character’s death :( (I’m so sorry about this, it was painful to write)

A/N: Thank you for letting me write this beautiful story @itsao-mine Hopefully you won’t hate me too much for making you wait and writing a sad story :( I really do hope you like it. It has a bittersweet ending, but I really like the way it turned out. I switched the events in Naruto’s birth a bit, so it doesn’t follow exactly like canon. Enjoy reading and keep requesting <3 Be kind.

Live for me

The three of them wished they could’ve frozen time that week, and stayed like that forever. Naruto even imagined that the baby Y/N was carrying was his little brother instead of himself in this odd and tragic reality. Maybe in another life he’d get to carry his little brother on his shoulders and teach how to use jutsu for mischief, take him to the academy for the first time, train together in the woods, then they’d go back home and Y/N would be waiting for them with a big bowl of ramen, and they’d get to share stories with Minato, and they’d be a nice happy family of four. Perhaps Minato would have fixed everything with the Uchiha, and they wouldn’t have to die. Sasuke would smile more, and Itachi would treat both of them as his little pupils. Maybe things could’ve been different. There wouldn’t be a timeline where Kaguya enslaved everyone to the tree, and he wouldn’t have had to meet his father as a reanimation. Maybe Obito would have lived and maybe Kakashi would be happy too. Too many maybes, and just one wish that he could save his parents tonight.

Naruto, you’ll feel the deepest pain you’ve ever felt, but you have to let things happen the way they were meant to be. If you don’t, Kaguya will win, and everything you’ve ever known will be gone.

The sage’s words echoed in his mind, creating a scar deeper than his battle wounds.

Now he was here, holding his mother’s hands and stroking her hair as the birthing contractions hit her body.

It was weird, seeing himself be born. The worried look on his father’s face, his mom’s eyes full of hope through the pain, and then it happened. Everything was blurry and confusing, it was way faster than he imagined it.

Obito was there, he had his baby self hostage. There was panic in his father’s eyes, but a glance at him let him know the baby would be fine. However, he let Minato rescue him, because things were supposed to happen this way. It was Naruto’s worst nightmare happening before his eyes. One of the most terrible tragedies in Konoha was about to take place, and he couldn’t do anything about it. This was harder than anything he’d ever done. He could fight the strongest enemy, learn the hardest jutsu, but this, was worse than anything. He had to let things happen.

Restraining himself was worse than anything he’d done, but he did it. So hid himself and watched as his mother cried, how Obito was about to break Kurama’s seal, and all he did was prepare himself to collect the special chakra that would leak out as the tragedy took place.

He wished he could take Y/N’s place as the Kyuubi was being pulled out of her, his heart breaking at the sight, but he made the signs and put his hands out. He felt the power the sage had given him activate as the chakra started seeping in. White hot powered gathered in his palms and spread through his body. He couldn’t think, only feel. It was intense, but like a shooting star, it was gone in a second.

The residual chakra was now safely inside him, and he was ready to get back to his timeline, but seeing Y/N weak and in pain stopped him.

Once Obito was gone, he rushed to her side and tried to aid her with the only medical jutsu Sakura had taught him.

“Mom, stay with me, please, live for me”

Tears dropped from Naruto’s eyes to Y/N’s chest, as he summoned every prayer he knew with his heart.

“Mom, I’m here, I love you” he held her close and then teleported both of them to the spot where he knew Minato would be fighting Obito.

Sasuke is already waiting for him there, ready to pull them back, but he knew this was hard for Naruto, so he waited for him to give him the sign whenever he was ready to leave.

The fight with Obito was already over, it was only the Kyuubi, his dad, his mom, his baby self and him, with Sasuke watching from the side.

Had that much time passed? The entire night didn’t make sense to him, and as much as he thought he had prepared for this, it was a thousand times worse.

“Dad!” He shouted and Minato looked at him and Y/N while struggling against Kurama. Strangely, he flashed him a kind smile, like he’d already figured something out.

Everything was already in place for the seal. So he was going to go through with it. Minato was still willing to sacrifice his life for his son. He does everything exactly as the tale he’d been told said. The black mark appears on the baby’s stomach, and he knows there’s no turning back.

“Naruto, get your mom close to me”

He obeys his dad without thinking and gets her close to him. Minato makes a few hand signs and presses his palm to Y/N’s weak chest. When he removes it, there’s a slight glow exactly over the spot he touched.

“Listen to me,” tears sting in the boy’s eyes as he looks towards his father “I don’t have much time. I’m not going to make it because the seal needs to take my life in order to work, but your mom will. Your mom can live, she’s an Uzumaki. I sealed a small part of Kurama’s chakra back inside of her. Just enough for her to live. I need you to be strong, Naruto. Take your mom with you to the future. Nothing will be altered. If you take her now, she’ll get the chance to live there with you, but the baby in front of us will grow up exactly the way you did, without parents and with Kurama sealed inside of him. He’ll still save the future, but you’ll have your mom now. Take her, and as much as it pains you, let me die here.”

Naruto nodded furiously, clutching his dad’s arms as if that could prevent him from slipping away.

“I love you, Naruto. Never forget that. Take care of your mom for me. Listen to everything she says, and whenever you miss me, just hold her tight.”

He turns to meet his wife’s gaze. She’s barely hanging on. Pain pulses through her body, but her husband’s kind eyes keep her safe.

“Y/N, my love, I’m not sorry for this. I’m not sorry for my life, and for dying to give you and our child life.”

“Minato” Y/N pleads, voice broken

“Live for me, Y/N. Give Naruto all the love we couldn’t give him all those years. See him become a great Hokage for me. He’s already surpassed me. I love you my sweet princess. You made my life worth living.”

“I love you Minato”

The last thing she sees is her husband’s calm smile, then she passes out.

Naruto thinks he notices the sandaime gesturing towards his dying father as Sasuke holds him and Y/N, pulling them into the time travel jutsu that will take them back to their timeline.

Y/N wakes up in the hospital a week after Naruto and Sasuke’s fight. Her wounds are mostly healed, and her strength seems to be recovering. Tsunade herself oversaw her care. She placed her and Naruto’s beds next to each other.

When she opens her eyes, she sees a familiar figure in front of her, though she experiences a bit of a confusion because the person in front of her is slightly different than she remembers.

“Hi, Y/N” says the voice she knows too well. “Naruto will be back in a bit, he asked me to watch over you while he’s in rehab therapy.”

“Kakashi” she manages, with a smile “you’re old”

“I know, it’s weird, right? That we’re almost the same age even though you and your husband basically raised me”

“This will definitely take some getting used to”

Kakashi immediately notices the change in her expression as she remembers what happened. He’d lost Minato a while ago, but she’d just lost him now, and he understood her pain, he knew it was greater than anything because he’d never seen two human beings mor perfect for each other than Y/N and his sensei. Tears start falling from her eyes and Kakashi sits next to her, gently holding her hand and giving her the support she needs.

“I know it’s not okay, but it will be. You have an amazing son to live for, and after all this time, I’m so happy to see you again, Y/N”

As he finishes saying it, Naruto enters the room with Sakura pushing his wheelchair.

“Moooooom! You’re awake! I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ve missed you so much, so long. It was very boring to lay here in bed and just watching you sleep. I missed talking to you. Well I did talk to you, a lot even though you were asleep. But I’m insanely happy that I got to bring you with me. And guess what? Sasuke is good again! I mean, he’s always been good, but he just noticed it now! He’s back here, and everything will just be so good now. I can’t wait for you to meet him, and all my friends. Gosh everything will be-“

Sakura landed a blow on Naruto’s head.

“Baaaka! Can’t you see she’s barely woken up? She has to recover and you’re bombarding her with a ton of information.”

Kakashi laughs lightheartedly and Y/N is happy to see he’s come a long way from the hurt, sad boy she knew. He gestures for Sakura to leave, and they let mother and son have their space.

A month later, Y/N and Naruto are fully healed and discharged from the hospital. Kakashi, Sakura and Sasuke, also recovered now, are there with them.

“We have a surprise for you two” says Kakashi, as they’re walking out.

He leads the way, and a few minutes later, they find themselves in front of a sunset colored house.

“We rebuilt it with my memories and a few pictures, it’s not the exact same, but hopefully it’ll be good to help you start your lives as a family again”

Y/N and Naruto have their hearts full with gratitude.

“It’s perfect. Thank you all. You have no idea how much this means.” She didn’t want to cry, but being with her son, and seeing her house, Kakashi being happy, Sasuke and Naruto getting close again, it was all too much.

They celebrated inside, Y/N made ramen for them, and they spent the evening laughing and telling stories to Y/N from when they went to missions together as Team 7.

They left a bit late, and Naruto helped his mom clean up.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to hold you as a baby, to cuddle you and to give you all my love, but I see now that you had the best support team you could ever have. I’m thankful Iruka and Kakashi stepped in for us.”

“I’m just grateful I get to have you with me now, mom. That I can call someone mom, and that I have a real home, like I always dreamed of, yaknow?”

She laughed and hugged her son tightly.

“I just wish Minato were here to see it all. He was so proud of the man you have become. I miss him so much.”

“Hold on, he gave me something for you. Give me your hands.”

She held them out and Naruto placed his hands on top of hers. A warm glow passed between them, and she recognized the chakra by the way it felt. She closed her eyes, and inside her mind, he was there.

“Hello beautiful”

“Minato”

She hugged him tightly.

“I’ll always be here, inside you. Now a part of me is a part of you. You get to live for me.”

#naruto #naruto fic #naruto uzumaki #naruto imagines #time travel au #minato #minato namikaze #minato fluff #minato headcanons #minato x reader #minato x y/n

[ssaalexblake]

Watching 12's first few episodes, seeing how stunningly early the narrative of his suicidal ideation was started has kind of made me recontextualise the narrative of 13's mental health? Especially in s12, but more peripherally involving s11 too.

The specific narrative of choosing to give the doctor a group of friends whom are genuinely doing a good job in how they interact with her in the state she's in in s12 (like, don't @ me here, the reason they had no luck was because 13 was not willing to accept their help. You can't truly help somebody unless they let you, they did everything right) and then how they contrasted it with that the master (even if we didn't know about it till the very end) who was actively attempting to drive her to suicide the whole season.

In Spyfall part 2, 13 tells Ada and Noor that she has a problem with the Master wanting to kill her because, yeah... She'd like to Not die, thank you. It's kind of a joke, but it's also Not, really. 12 didn't suddenly wake up one morning with the feeling he'd rather not do that living thing again, the signs of his suidical ideation were Right There in Deep Breath... Every reason he gives Mr. Mechanical Man for why him staying alive is a useless idea applies equally to 12.

12 fought a long fight and he still only regenerated out of a last minute decision. And then 13.

She actually Wants to live. It's not a 'well... Might as well'. She Wants to live. She didn't want to die in Spyfall before the revalation, but at that point she's mostly just angry, she is then tested beyond anything anybody could cope with and by the time she makes it to the tardis in the timeless children, sending the humans away... She doesn't want to die, still.

She doesn't want to leave the fam, she doesn't want to blow the bomb, she doesn't want to make that cold and lonely walk to the matrix to the master, she wants to stay with the fam.

In this metaphor, the fam represent her urge to live and the urge to recover and the master represents the suicidal ideation. She doesn't Want to walk to her death, she only does because she thinks she has to. She wants to stay with the fam and Live, not to die with the master.

These are all Choices. The 12th doctor made his last minute, hail Mary choice to not die just to see what'd happen, i mean, Maybe it'd actually be Good? And that was the first step and after that it Did get better for the doctor... But then all that horror came back again. But the doctor reaffirmed their choice that they didn't want to die, over and over again even after being tested.

It wasn't Easy, no, but she made the choice to keep going again and again, because that's what you have to do. There are lots of reasons you could put to 13 not pressing the trigger in the timeless children, but i've always been fond of the simple 'she did not want to die' over anything else because i think it has the most narrative resonance.

From here, she's going to have to choose to keep living as The Doctor, it may not be choosing actively to die as an alternative, but she's going to have to keep the mantle of the doctor alive now, and not lose in in despair and trauma.

I actually kind of also think, if you want to take it less metaphorically here there's an argument for a kind of interpretation about the toxicity of our relationships in this arc, too. As the fam try their hardest to help her in her trauma in healthy and reasonable ways, it's juxtaposed with the doctor's very oldest friend trying his damned hardest to ruin her and see her (and himself) dead because He's hurt.

It's just. Interesting. I feel like 13's reluctance to die is a statement in regards to 12's arc. He wanted many things for his next regeneration, and she's honestly failing spectacularly on pretty much all counts, but she's also honouring the unspoken in that she's trying to Live in general... She was a last minute decision but it was still an active and conscious one, and That, at least, she honours.

12's last wish Wasn't really his speech to his future self, because his choice to regenerate was him making an active choice Against the suicidal ideation he's been carrying his whole life. It wasn't Passive for him like other regenerations that just happen because it was natural for them to, it was a Choice and that, That at least 13 continues to honour... Even if she can't quite manage the rest. She got the biggest part down.

#dw shit #suicidal ideation cw #if the phrasing in this is wonky... i wrote it at half 3 in the morning #oops #dw meta

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon and I actually was skipping through the official City of Mizu episode and realized I missed Skeppy as a idol. So if you follow Skeppy you get to learn about different kinds of gems and what they can be used for, get trained on proper safety when mining, what to look for and avoid when mining, and they also get to go on supply runs that specifically require mining, though not many people follow Skeppy because mining is dangerous. Also I missed Charles personality a good bit so ima change it to where he's still quite, reserved and anxious, but is adventurous, curious, dedicated to his interests, and when given the chance or talking about his interests he gets very excited and talks a lot. Like a excited puppy. 

1: People can get kicked out of a idol following for many reasons, like disrespecting the idol and their peers, claiming some of the history their learning is fake, attacking anyone in the city (like stabbing, they just get chastised for fist fights), and breaking multiple rules of the city. And some people don't choose a idol, though its highly unlikely as those who don't know what idol to pick tend to pick Tommy or Tubbo. Those who choose not to choose a idol, tend to only work in farming, as its a easy job to learn. Its for these people that the idol-less council member was added, the council member also represent other cities and kingdoms that do still acknowledge and trade with Mizu. Most houses are actually built out of the side, like how we saw the idol rooms in the official episode, and their kind of scattered about, theres some halls filled with homes, but some halls have no homes. The halls with the homes tend to be the biggest/widest halls of the city, as to allow for room for the families living there, and also because theres sometimes stores in this area. Some halls also have multiple levels to allow for more room, these specific halls are referred to as Residential Complex, and only house homes in their multiple levels. While halls that hold only a few homes arent called anything special. Because outside affairs are very complex, most kingdoms and cities ignore Mizu, treating them with disgust and some times, people who have done supply runs that go into cities have reported having higher prices on what they want to buy, and disrespect from all citizens and police. But some kingdoms and cities respect them and trade with them without any tricks. The councils main agurement in this situation is that, the nice city is very far away, a weeks travel, but the mean city is close, only a 2 day walk away. They agure about what to do and what city to travel too for all supply runs. And another agurement that the council often has is what to do with visitors, they had visitors in the past that had destroyed and stole items in Mizu while causing disruptions, but some also brought their own culture and items and happily exchanged said culture and items. So their conflicted on if visitors should be welcomed or turned away. 

3: He went through what Ranbob did, being held to high standards that he just couldn't meet. But unlike Ranbob, he spoke up about his problems and managed to get held to lesser standards and allowed time to recover. When he moved out he originally lived on his own in a forest, and because he was vulnerable to monsters he didn't know how to handle, he had to make many fast paced despite when cornered by monsters or when trying to save crops or his house. And since he was also the oldest child of a 6 child family, he had to constantly look after his siblings, giving him his father-like attitude and knowing how to help people in basically almost any situation. His siblings are (current ages) Nick-17, calm, information nerd, introverted and Benjamins favorite brother. Rock-10, a tiny gremlin that loved to mess with people, he often broke bones or broke items when playing due to his rough play style and broke rules, Benjamin was the only one who could calm him. Ion-16, a teen that is very adventurous and always wandering off, she always talked about traveling the world, the hardest one for Benjamin to keep track of. Stellar-13, in love with space, but other than that is a normal child, but she also has a fascination with monsters like enderman, often wondering where they come from, Benjamin doesnt have any strong opinions on her.  And finally, Juka-15, they are very invested in redstone, often experimenting on it and trying to make different things with it, often the stuff they make blows up, Benjamin admires Juka's persistence and love for redstone but also wishes they'd stop blowing up the damn kitchen. 

8: Totems do exist, their just so rare its not believed Techno managed to have and use one. So that part of the story got lost and left out over time. Pandoras vault has fallen, mostly because of a break out by Dream that destroyed most of it, and because it had fallen into disrepair. And they do have such advanced technology to make such a prison now, but they doubted the SMP had such technology and availability to do it in their time. And there is also a great lack of evidence (expect for the actual building, but even then people agure it was used for something else) supporting the existence of Pandoras Vault. 

Ran and Ranbob used to feel confused and hurt, not understanding why the world hated their home and why the world was so mean to them. Over time they learned why they where shunned, but still didn't completely understand. Eventually they grew used to it, and learned to avoid saying where they lived, unless they wanted to partake in a fight. They very very rarely say that they came from Mizu, as they had learned long ago from both classes and personal experience. But a few times it was revealed they lived in Mizu, they had to just endure it and move along, even though Ran really wanted to punch a fucker. They became friends when Charles went to him during the trip to the flower field, asking to join in on a game he was playing. Its a miracle the two didn't get a heart attack tbh.

10: He was not! Ranbob was too weak for Dream to access all of his powers. And Dreams constant hold of control and withholding food and all the essentials from him, made him even weaker. No one is aware of it, not even Ranbob. A mix of pissed, a weird sort of pride, and determination. The pride and determination is there because knowing Dream thinks that way of them, confirms that they're enough of a threat that Dream actually acknowledges them. And helps them believe that they could truly beat Dream if they tried. Though it also means Dream will try his damned best to kill them. 

13: Yeah he comes out on top, he still has some advantages over the others even without tatics, like his speed and he knows how to sneak around and use the area to his advantage pretty well. 

14: He seemed more finicky, more nervous and anxious. Constantly trying to seperate himself from the group when he tends to stay very close by. And more on edge/quick to snap at others.

 Ayy! Starting off with Skeppy and Charles, what a wonderful way to begin. How did Skeppy’s few followers mine? Were there mines under the sea floor? Did they travel out of Mizu to go find mines in the earth? 

1: Hm, interesting. The idol-less leader seems to have quite a bit on their shoulders, if they deal with all outside affairs. Were they specifically selected to learn their position? Since you said most of them farm, but all those politics and stuff seem kind of different from it. Does Ranbob remember any of the nice cities? Did either boy ever meet a former visitor that recognized them from back then?

3: Benjamin’s family sounds really cool. Does the gang ever get to meet them? If so, how do they get along with them?

8: Huh. Well, how about Woodland Mansions? What happened to those, to make totems so rare? So Pandora still stands today? Cool. Does the gang ever come across it? Where would it be located-or well, what areas would be around it? Is it used for anything else nowadays?

And that sucks. If this happens while the brothers are at odds with each other, do they still help each other out with it, since they’re being mocked about their home, or do they just ignore it, and such. How do their respective groups feel both about them being from Mizu, and how they’re treated for it, both before and after the two hauntings started to merge? Did it effect how they thought of them in anyway?

And that sounds cute. What game was it, and who won? 

10: Hmm. Was Dream aware he was causing Ranbob to become weaker, or was he that out of touch with human needs? Also, I think I remember way back then, you mentioned this part of Dream was the evil bits that survived his death.

What do you think would happen if they somehow managed to end up seeing the good parts, maybe with a similar artifact that Ranbob found in your supposed fluff?

13: Nice.

14: Oh, no. That’s not good.

#dream smp #dream smp au #tales from the smp #Brothers AU #ranbob

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part three Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (Bobby Singer, Castiel Mary Winchester and many more mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part three: Still in shock after Y/N’s unexpected return, the Winchesters fill her in on what has happened in the past ten years. Learning about all the ones they have lost, is a little too much for her to take in. Warnings part three: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff. Swearing, alcoholism. Descriptions of flashbacks and memories. Mentions of character death, time in Hell, torture and nightmares. Anxiety, grieving over lost loved one. Confusion that comes with time travel. Word Count: 5377 words Author’s note: Part three of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​, @winchest09​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​, and @thinkwritexpress-official​​. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

     “So, long story short,” Y/N summarizes, “Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding piggyback, Cas pulled him out but forgot his soul. There was a civil war in Heaven. Cas declared himself God and released the Leviathan and when those ugly suckers were defeated, our angel buddy and you--” she nods at Dean, “- got sucked into Purgatory, which is a place that actually exists, apparently.”

     They are in the kitchen, seated at the four-person table. The hunters raided the liquor cabinet, all in need of a drink after the rather unexpected and staggering turn of events.      Y/N takes a shot of whiskey and puts the tumbler down on the varnished wood with a bang, shoving it across and motioning the older Winchester for a refill.

     “Meanwhile, Sam hit a dog and you escaped Purgatory, but Cas didn’t. Then there was this whole deal with the tablets and the trials, which almost killed your brother. You let an angel - who actually turned out to be a different angel - possess Sam in order to save him. There’s a second civil war upstairs…” She knocks back her head, downing the glass in one go. “I mean, what is it with those halo idiots? Haven’t they learned anything from watching humanity slaughter each other for centuries?”      “Y/N, I know this is a lot, but you need to slow down a bit,” Dean advises, but she snatches the bottle from his hand and pours herself another.      “I’m nowhere near done. Where was I?” She looks up at the ceiling of the kitchen for a second while thinking, until it comes to her. “Oh, right! The angels fell, you took on the Mark of Cain, beat that Knight of Hell chick Abaddon, then got yourself killed. Again. But, oh wait, it gets better! You woke up a demon and had a fun summer with Crowley.”      Her voice pitches a little higher, a hint of panic audible now. Dean watches her process the information which is so clearly overwhelming her and eyes Sam, who is fixing her something quick to eat behind the kitchen counter. Their gazes lock on each other, both men wondering in silence if telling her the whole truth was a good idea.

     “Sam cured you, but you still carried the Mark. You killed Death.” She laughs, cynically. “I mean, c’mon! Death! It’s ironic to say the least. Anyway, the Darkness was released, which - I kid you not - is God’s sister. Oh, and God? Turns out that horrible tween girl novel writer Chuck is actually the almighty creator! Ha!”      “Why don’t you eat something? You’re probably hungry,” Sam suggests, putting down a plate in front of her.      But Y/N isn’t interested in the sandwich and instead picks up her crystal glass again, having another royal amount of the brown liquor. Holding the tumbler to her lips while letting the whiskey linger in her mouth, she points her index finger at the younger Winchester now, who sits down opposite of the woman from their past.

     “Your mom is back from the dead, the British Men of Letters turned out to be stuck up dicks. Lucifer was sprung from the cage, became President of the United States, and knocked up an intern. He had a son, his name is Jack. How am I doing so far?” she rants, setting down the empty glass in front of her.      Dean looks at her, a worried frown drawing lines on his forehead. He knows her well enough to sense she needs to blow off steam. Interrupting her might not be his best move, but that doesn’t stop him from growing concerned about her current state of mind.

     “There was a rift between our world and this - this Apocalypse world, you called it? And Mary and Lucifer ended up on the wrong side before it closed. Luci killed Cas, Dean was sad, Cas came back. You guys went on a rescue mission, Sam got killed. Again!” She sighs deeply, burying her face in her crossed arms on the table. “Seriously, the amount of times you two have died is giving me a fucking headache.”      “Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam says, shooting her a sheepish smile before she continues.

     “So Apocalypse!Michael possessed you in order to kill the Devil once and for all.” She looks up again, focusing on Dean. “But he didn’t check out like he promised - shocker, by the way. He wreaked havoc here, then out of the blue let you go. And now you guys live here in this Men of Letters bunker with a Nephilim, an angel and your undead mother.”      “That’s about right,” Dean confirms.      Y/N lets a breath slip from her lips and stares past him absently, the gears in her head still on overdrive.      “I need another drink,” she eventually mutters, not even bothering filling up her tumbler, but taking a swig directly from the bottle.      When she sets it back on the table top and lets her fingers slip from the glass, Sam is quick to get up and take the bottle back to the kitchen, putting it away in one of the cabinets; she has had enough for one day.      “And I died…”

     The younger Winchester turns around and leans over the counter while observing his friend, his knuckles white on the surface. He studies the breadcrumbs that litter the stainless steel surface after he cut her sandwich in two, having difficulty addressing that topic. When Lucifer flung her into that wall with such magnitude that it killed her instantly, Dean lost the woman he loved, but Sam lost his best friend. He didn’t realize how he felt about her demise until after he got his soul back, which somehow made it even worse. Like he didn’t do her justice, didn’t mourn like he should have. He doesn’t have to reply to her words, though, because Dean beats him to it.      “On May 10, 2010,” he states, averting his gaze and focusing on his folded hands in front of him, still wrapped around his own whiskey glass.      The date is forever etched in his memory. Her mirage haunts him on a regular basis, but on the 10th of May she’s all he can think about, like a fog that refuses to lift at daybreak. It’s one of the hardest days to get through, the day that he misses her the most. Dean’s jaw flexes and he tries to swallow down the pressure that’s gradually building in his chest.

     “That’s - that’s in a year and a half,” Y/N stammers, after quick calculation. “At least in whatever time I’m from.”      “Yeah, just before the big title fight between the Archangels,” Sam confirms.      Y/N glances up at him, then back at Dean, who still can’t force himself to look at her.      “Who killed me?”      “Lucifer,” Dean recalls, venom in his voice.      Her brow lifts up at the reveal. She was killed by the Devil himself? Well, at least that would make a cool inscription on her tombstone.      “You guys salted and burned me, right?” she double checks, even though she cannot imagine the Winchesters giving her anything but a hunter’s farewell.      Dean pulls at his lip with his teeth, the memory of the burning pyre flashing before his eyes. He remembers it as if it was yesterday. The funeral that made sure her death would be irreversible, permanent. The sight of her body set alight. In order to stop the Apocalypse from happening, he lost his brother and his girl. Sam was suffering endless and horrific torture in the pits of Hell while she was going up in flames before his eyes. God, he was a mess. His brother came home, but looking back now, deep down Dean knows he never really recovered from losing the woman who will forever have his heart.      “I did,” he confirms.      I did, he said. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes Sam was gone too at this point; Dean didn’t even have his brother to lean on. Pitiful she watches the hunter, who has endured so much already. He lost the two most important people in his life in a day’s time.      “Then… how am I back?” she wonders. “You said something about summoning me?”      “We found a magical artifact called the Pearl of Baozhu. It grants your biggest wish, basically,” Sam begins to explain. “Apparently, it’s so powerful it doesn’t need remains to resurrect someone.”      “And I am your biggest wish?” She chuckles. “What? Not winning the lottery? Peace on Earth?”      A small smirk pulls at the corner of Dean’s mouth; oh, he missed her wit.      “No, it’s you,” he states after a moment of quiet, finally meeting her gaze.

     Astonishment silences her as she stares at him, the pain of having to go through life without her still evident in his eyes. He looks so much wearier than she remembers the tough hunter, the soldier who always marched on and kept grinding. Even after he came back from Hell, the experience that tore open wounds which bled even worse than those inflicted the night the hellhounds took him. Honestly, there were plenty of times she thought he would never recover, whenever he woke up screaming from another nightmare and she had to hold him until he calmed. And yet, he didn’t seem as burdened as he does now, and that is saying something. It’s as if time broke him down bit by bit as he grew older, until there was nothing left but a ruin. 

     Dean said it’s 2019, which means he’s forty years old now. His frown lines lay deeper, so do the crow’s feet by the corner of his eyes. There’s a scar on his chin that wasn’t there before, covered by his stubble. His hair is a little longer, but only by a quarter of an inch. Age has not done a number on him, because he’s still handsome, but trauma and loss surely have. Knowing that her own death had a substantial part in the neverending sorrow and guilt she knows the hunter carries breaks her heart, because if anything, she would never want to cause him such agony.

     “We were together,” she says, ending the silence. 

     It’s more a realization than it is a question, but Dean nods either way. Her jaw lowers slightly, her mouth opening, but she has no idea what to say. She was frightened when she heard she was on a collision course with death. But now she’s made aware that her future self and Dean are going to face evil as one hell of a power couple, that fear diminishes. She was a teenager when she first started developing feelings for the oldest Winchester brother. She never acted on it, the hunter’s life always getting in the way of their romance. But somehow, despite destiny, despite the horror show that is their reality, they found their way to each other. 

     Seeing just how much her departure wrecked him, she reaches out, moving her hand across the table to take his. She squeezes softly, running her thumb over his skin, rough from the many fights he’s faced. He visibly relaxes, cherishing the moment he never thought he’d have again.      Y/N forces herself to avert her eyes, aware they aren’t alone. She glances at Sam, who watches the two, smiling, but his content expression dissolves when she inadvertently turns the conversation in a harrowing direction.      “What about the others? How’s Bobby?” she wonders, oblivious to the painful reply that is to come.

     Dean’s face falls, closing his eyes in apprehension. Shit, he wishes he didn’t have to break the bad news to her. Bobby Singer was like a father to all of them, but Y/N spent the majority of her childhood under his wing. After her parents died, he took her in and raised her as his own, made sure she could go to school, that she could be a kid. Hell, he was her father, maybe not genetically, but he was the wise man who taught them that family doesn’t end in blood.

     Sam stares back at her, then swallows thickly, letting his head hang. Analyzing his stance, the smile on her lips dies down, frantically searching for an indication that says it isn’t so. When the tall hunter is unable to return her gaze, she fixates on Dean, tears already glazing over her eyes.      “Y/N...” He takes her hand in his now, trying to sooth her and cushion the blow, but he knows there’s nothing he can do that would take the pain away that is about to hit her like a freight train.      “No...” She shakes her head, unable to accept it. “No no no no...”      “I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his heart breaking as he breaks hers. 

     Her bottom lip begins to tremble, her face contorting as she fights the emotions that quickly overpower her. Shimmering pathways of anguish find their way down her cheeks, eventually falling to land on the wooden surface. Y/N wipes her cheeks dry, but it’s no use, new tears forming faster than she can erase. And so she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth, holding back a sob.      “W-when?” she stammers, her voice shaking. “How?”      “In 2012. He... he was shot,” Dean explains, trying to get the words across as gingerly as possible.

     She shuts her eyes now, her throat closing up and she bites her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to break down in front of the boys. She has so many questions of which the answers terrify her.      “Did he die alone?”      She barely dares to look up again, meeting Sam’s gaze this time. He shakes his head, offering her a comforting smile.      “No, we were right there with him,” he assures.      “He’s in Heaven,” Dean consoles, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cas double checked.”

     Y/N nods slightly, sniffling as she digests the news. Knowing that he’s in a good place right now doesn’t stop the grief from tearing her apart, because she has no idea how to go through life without her mentor to council her, but at least he’s not suffering anymore. A shuddering breath escapes from her lungs as she collects herself.      “What killed him, is it--”      “- dead. Yeah, we made sure of that,” Dean guarantees.      “Good,” she says, her voice having gained some strength. “What about Rufus? Ellen & Jo?”      Sam sighs and looks down, painfully confronted with how many people they’ve lost over the years.      “They’re all gone,” he states, still leaning heavily on the countertop.      Shocked, Y/N stares at him, unable to believe how many have perished.      “So, of the original crew, you two are really the last ones standing, huh?”      “Yeah, I guess we are,” the younger brother confirms. “But we met some great people along the way, I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you. We’re not fighting the good fight alone, by any means.”      “Glad to hear that. Just, not today? I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she almost pleads, her voice raspy from crying.

     Dean watches her closely, guilt constricting in his gut. Unknowingly, he has pulled her from a time where things weren’t all that bad. If she’s from October 2008, he has just returned from Hell. Bobby was alive, Sam was okay, so were the other people she considered family. They were growing closer, on the verge of giving in to the attraction they felt for each other. But now it’s just the three of them and a ten year gap between her lifetime and theirs. She must be feeling completely out of place, disorientated, exhausted.      “Why don’t we go pick out a room for you, so you can lay down for a bit?” Dean offers, squeezing her hand gently to get her attention.      She agrees and gets up from her seat without another word, mentally too tired to argue. The alcohol is coursing through her system, and although she doesn’t feel highly intoxicated, combined with the range of emotions she just went through, it’s doing a number on her. Honestly, she’s down for a nap, preferably one that lasts a day or two.      Dean lets her go up the two steps first, ready to catch her might her coordination fail her after all. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, who picks up the untouched sandwich and carries the plate to the sink.      “Go ahead, I’ll clean up,” Sam offers.      Thankful, the older Winchester forces a small smile before he leaves the kitchen. 

     Quietly, Y/N follows the broad shouldered hunter who leads the way, her arms crossed in front of her chest, the coolness from the stone walls chasing chills up and down her spine. It’s not just the cold, though, it’s everything. Too much information to process, too much heartbreak to endure. Her brain is overloaded, fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.      She watches Dean turn the corner and stroll into a long hallway with doors on either side, gold plated numbers below the Men Of Letters emblem. They stop in front of room 12.      “You can take this one,” he suggests, opening the door for her and flicking on the lights. “I’m right next door if you need anything. Sam’s in room 21.”

     Y/N steps inside, taking in her new accommodation. Despite the use of mostly brick and concrete and the lack of windows, the glow coming from the ceiling light and the lamp on the nightstand feels warm and welcoming. A large mahogany bed is situated against the far end, a matching desk on the left with an old typewriter and a radio sitting on top. Directly behind the door there’s a sink and a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the lid, and a wardrobe next to it.      “We can put a rug on the floor, if you want. I remember how you always had cold feet,” Dean suggests.      She turns in the middle of the room, a small smile on her lips; he’s not wrong.      “I’d like that,” she says, grateful.

     A little uneasy she lets her gaze linger over the still empty cabinets and bookshelves again, feeling foreign in this future that didn’t include her, before Dean wished she was. She realizes there’s nothing to fill them with, no clothes, no books, no picture frames.      “Could I maybe borrow a shirt and some sweats from you? I’m gonna have to buy some new clothes later today,” she asks, a little flustered.      “Sure, but actually, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s nervous. “I never threw away your stuff. It’s been in boxes in the storage room, so your clothes are probably gonna need to be washed--”      “- Wait, you… you saved my stuff?”

     She stares at him in awe. It’s been almost ten years since she died, and he still held on to all that she owned. Sure, it wasn’t much, since they were on the road most of the time, but still. They didn’t find this bunker until a couple of years later, which means Dean had stored it in a locker somewhere, or maybe at Bobby’s, and picked it up again when they found a permanent home. He had moved her things around for almost a decade, yet never threw them out, even though he knew there was no purpose left for the items that once belonged to her. Just painful reminders of what was and what was lost.      “Yeah, I - I couldn’t really bring myself to throw it out,” he claims, as if he was dodging a task that should have been done long ago.      He isn’t lying. Even though he knew she was never going to return to him, that her life was lost and his love was hopeless, he kept everything she held dear. Her books, her mixtapes, her photos, her jewelry. The clothes she wore, the guitar she played. The stack of coasters she collected, picking one up at every bar they ever had a drink at, from every town they ever crossed. The old school Polaroid camera she brought everywhere, snapping pictures of everything that caught her eye along the way. Sunsets, funny road signs, captivating landscapes, interesting people. There are a few of him, of the Winchesters together, some more portraying the three of them, all squeezed into the shot. She even caught Bobby on camera, ignoring his grumpy mutters when she had fulfilled her seemingly impossible mission.      There’s the music box she got from her mother when she was little, her parents’ wedding album. Lore books, weapons and crystals that Bobby gave her when she first started hunting. The enchanted good luck charm Dean gave her for her birthday. He held on to it all, because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to let her go completely.

     Sympathetically, Y/N observes him. His tough exterior only lets a hint of embarrassment over something so sentimental seep through. But she knows him, she has seen the knight without his armor. She knows how badly he’s hurting.      “Anyway, I’ll - uh, get you some clean clothes and dig up your stuff from storage.” He points his thumb over his shoulder a little awkwardly, excusing himself.      She nods. “Thanks.”

     With a faint smile on his lips he disappears, leaving the door ajar. Y/N breathes in deeply and allows the air to flow out, trying to calm herself down. It’s her first moment alone since she found herself in the year of 2019 and she cannot begin to comprehend what is happening to her. How she time-jumped a decade into the future, having history with Dean she cannot even recall. It feels like she’s in a bad daytime television show, where one of the characters has hit her head too hard and suffers from amnesia, not remembering her lover.      Rubbing her forehead she turns around, trying to massage away the headache. Her eyes glide through her new bedroom again. This is going to be her home now. After moving out of Bobby’s place, she never really had that kind of stability. The closest she came to a roof over her head was her minivan, her little house on wheels. 

     Fingertips grace the covers of her bed, the material soft under her touch, when she hears Dean’s boots echo in the hall. She turns around as he comes through the doorway, holding two boxes with a bundle of clothes laying on top of the stack in his arms. He lowers the neatly taped carton containers to the ground, her name written on them with black marker. Dean made sure to file on the label what’s inside them.      “There’s one more box, your clothes are in that one. I can put them in the washer now, so you’ll have something better to wear than my oversized stuff,” he offers.      “You don’t have to do that, Dean,” she objects, but he shrugs it off.      “It’s no problem.”      His voice is kind, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the first time he has moved her belongings without having to fight the tears, without having to pause in order to stop himself from breaking down. He wants to make sure she has something clean and fresh to wear when she wakes up later, finally being able to take care of her again. 

     Dean turns the corner and heads to the storage room, his heart finally calming with the simplicity of being able to do something as domestic as washing her clothes. After picking up the last big box, he exits the storage and pulls the door shut behind him, making his way to the dorm where the washers and dryers are situated. He sets the box down in front of one of the machines, pulls his pocket knife from his belt and cuts through the duct tape. The first item he pulls out, however, steals his breath; it’s the leather jacket she wore that night in Detroit.      Two days after they lost her, Dean wrapped her in linen before he laid her down on the pyre he and Bobby built, her lifeless body still in the jeans and band shirt she had on when she was killed. He took off her favorite black leather jacket, though, wanting to preserve it, even though it was a part of Y/N - or maybe because it was. Traces of faded crimson still stain the collar. Dean shakes his head, trying to ban the image from his mind. The image of the blood running from her nose and mouth as she hung from his arms, dead weight, the spark of life in her eyes long gone.

     After a deep breath, the hunter collects himself and lays the leather jacket aside, then begins to carefully pick out some of her clothes. He makes a selection that fits in the drum, adds a laundry pod and turns the machine on. He hopes the old thing does a better job at washing away the memory of her death than he’s doing.

     When he enters Y/N’s room again, she has changed into the black shirt and grey sweatpants he offered her. She spins when she hears him, an amused grin adorning her face.      “Nice socks,” she chuckles, showing off her novelty footwear with burgers and milkshakes on them.      “Shut up. Sammy gave them to me for Christmas,” he utters, a blush on his cheeks. “Your stuff’s in the washer.”      “Thank you,” she returns, grateful.

     A silence followers as Dean lingers in the doorway. This would be the moment to give her some space and retreat to his room, but somehow he can’t make himself step outside. He has spent too much time without her by his side already, he doesn’t want to waste a second not being with the woman he’s still unmistakingly in love with. She’s his girl, afterall. But that’s where it gets confusing, because he’s not sure how she feels about all this. Y/N was zapped from a time where they weren’t in a relationship yet, so where do they stand in this messed up mayhem?      “Y/N, about that kiss earlier…” he starts off hesitant. “I, uh - I didn’t know you were from a place where we weren’t… y’know, together.”

     The smile on her lips dies down as she watches the hunter, skilled in the field when fighting evil, but now stumbling over his own words. It’s only now that she realizes how surreal this must be for him. His mind probably has archives full of memories she has no clue of, simply because in her time, they didn’t happen yet.      “What I’m trying to say is…” Dean takes a breath, trying to get his message across. “If I came on too strong, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m sorry.”      He glances up now, watching how she slowly approaches. Gently, she takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. After studying their hold for a few seconds, she tilts her head and restores eye contact. The look she gives him is so warm and kind, it mends the broken man that he is.      “I’m not,” she responds, her voice soft.

     She leans in, tiptoeing, and presses her soft lips against his. For a good moment all his grief, the endless regret, the physical pain that became chronic, is forgotten. He closes his eyes and melts into the touch, returning the kiss without hesitation. The voices in his head are silenced, his anxiety calmed. After eight years, eight months and twenty eight days, he has found his missing piece. If her departure from his world didn’t make him realize how much he loves her, this moment surely does.

     The kiss lasts a few heavenly long seconds, but then Dean parts from her, resting his forehead against hers. He sighs deeply, the air leaving him with a shudder. Still high on the ecstasy that the undeniable connection induced, she opens her eyes, but his remain closed. Wondering why, Y/N squeezes his hand. When he does look back at her, the tears bring out his green irises, like holding an emerald gem against the light. Compassionate, she cups his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.      “You really missed me, didn’t you?” she perceives.      He huffs; she’s putting it mildly.      “You have no idea,” he breathes.

     Y/N does, though. Last thing she remembers is how Dean just returned from Hell. In the four months that he was gone, she was completely at a loss. Wildflowers blossomed on his grave from her tears alone. Knowing he was enduring unimaginable torment only made it worse. But when he returned and she was able to close him in her arms again, it magnified everything she had ever felt for the man who went to Hell and back. The rollercoaster he’s riding now is one she’s been on herself, but she doesn’t tell him that; it’s not about her right now.

     She kisses him again, shorter and more sweetly now, smiling at him afterwards until he returns her expression. His eyes are still shimmering, but it’s not sorrow she finds in the depth of his pupils, not anymore. It’s gratefulness, appreciation, love, for her, the girl he lost so many years ago.      “You should get some sleep. You had one hell of a morning,” he says after a quiet moment, unable to look away.      She scoffs. “Understatement of the week.”      He nods grinning, admitting she’s probably right.      “I’ll leave you to it.”      Dean is about to let go of her hand, when her grip on him grows a little stronger, causing him to glance up at her, questioning.      “Could you…” she pauses, not sure if she’s asking too much. “Could you lay with me, just for a while?”      He reads her carefully, pained to see the hint of fear; she doesn’t want to be alone.      “Sure,” he agrees, the single word soothing her.

     Y/N allows his hand to slip from hers now and circles the bed, folding back the covers as Dean sits down to take off his shoes. When he leans back into the pillow, his upper body still slightly elevated against the headboard, tiredness overwhelms him. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever, Michael always waiting in the shadows when he dares to close his eyes. But when Y/N crawls into his chest, filling the vacant place that has been cold for so long, he sighs content, letting the worry fall from his shoulders. Who knows, maybe with her by his side, he might actually be able to rest.

     She pulls the sheets to cover the both of them, feeling Dean’s sheltering arm wrap around her and pull her in. The kiss he presses to her hair has her bite back the tears yet again. She tries to hide it, not wanting to come across as weak or emotional. The man who has always cared for her, doesn’t fail to notice, though.      “Hey…” he says, softly. “You had a lot on your plate today, huh?”      She sniffles and nods, not brave enough to test her voice.      “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” he promises. “You got me, Y/N.”      “Yeah…” she whispers. “I got you.”

     Dean holds her close, giving her the security and the comfort she is desperately seeking, hoping she might forget about the world she’s in now and the one she was ripped from. Absently, he rubs his fingers up and down her arm, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling her to sleep. Within minutes she’s out, the warmth she radiates slowly melting away the tension in the hunter’s stiff muscles, tired and worn from endless battles with both monsters and himself. Exhausted, he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut as well. The last thing that crosses his mind before he falls asleep is a promise. Past, present, or future, Dean will always be there for the woman who makes him believe in their little slice of apple pie life. A decade of time difference will not change his word of honor.

It took me long enough, didn’t it! Stay tuned for part four, I hope I have gained some momentum now and will able to finish this series sooner than later.

Anyway, thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

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#All I Want #Dean x Reader #Dean x Reader series #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester reader insert #dean angst #dean x y/n #Dean Winchester x Y/N #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #Sam Winchester #Castiel #kate huntington

[normal-thoughts-official]

Thoughts on rizzy 👀

jdndkdndidndidn ok so if u wanted a rizzy-positive answer...... avert ur eyes

the one thing positive (?) i can say about rizzy is that it really brought us some of the softest raphael moments, but i also lowkey hate that cuz wow, we really got him to talk about his sister, his past, see some of his interests, his softness, his pains, his smiles because of rizzy... so it's all related to rizzy 💀 which is why you might see some gifsets from rizzy scenes in my blog, i think this might have been what brought this on. i enjoy those scenes as scenes that establish raphael's character, but not as rizzy

and shoutout to sh as usual for only bothering with giving a coc depth, backstory, desires and etc when they were someone's love interest and then dropping them like a hot potato. like bro imagine if they had at least bothered with keeping raphael's characterisation consistent? id be over the moon already. if they had actually made him a person like when rizzy was a thing for the whole show on top of that?? fuck i think id explode in happiness

other than that..... i hate everything about it. and like, it being based on addiction aside (which is already, like, bad, but i could maybe ship them in an alternate reality where the addiction wasn't a thing and they were fine if it was only that), the whole thing was literally Izzy Treats Raphael Like Shit And Then Raphael Is Villainized For It

im not even gonna get into the whole "raphael is blamed for the yin fen thing for some fucking reason when that was not his fucking fault and no one questions this" thing because ive done it before and i might explode with rage if i do, lol. that fucking plotline would have never been handled like that if raphael wasn't latino and therefore a predator drug dealer stereotype. but ANYWAY

those are the two things that i see anti rizzy shippers talking about the most, but those are actually not what bothers me the most. what really drives me up the wall and is just vomiting emoji is the way izzy treats raphael. that's the dealbreaker for me and something that never gets acknowledged

like, for starters, raphael was once again shown to be one of the most caring and selfless characters in this piece of shit stupid show, when he saved izzy's life when she was stupid enough to actually go to a vampire den. she had done nothing but be shitty to him and the vampires up to that point, mind you (which some ppl in this fandom treat as like #GirlPower or something) but he still saved her life for no reason other than that was the right thing to do

and then she immediately, the same second, tried to trigger him into drinking her blood. and he kept telling her no and pushing her away and she was literally GRABBING him and slitting her wrist and then he caved, at great personal cost, which she didn't care about

fine

then we get her going after him again, and raphael, again, being the caring and selfless bastard that he is, does something so monumentally kind and dangerous that it still blows me away: he tells her about his addiction

and i know that ppl in this fandom love to act as if every single thing raphael did for the sake of other characters, particularly the shadowhunters and simon, is just, like, expected and no big deal. but raphael didn't owe izzy that. he didn't have to tell izzy that. hell, he didn't even have to save izzy's life when she went to the den, for all he knew it was all a trick or something. and telling her, someone he doesn't even know, a shadowhunter, not only one of his greatest secrets, not only one of his greatest vulnerabilities, but the single hardest and most painful moment of his life, a whole can of worms about his past that he just bared to her just like that, was just. so much. it was such a huge thing that he did for her, okay. and let's not forget that raphael is a private person, both for survival and because he just is

he basically opened up his biggest wound and showed it to her only because it could bring her some sort of comfort. it wouldn't even help her greatly. it wouldn't even change anything about her situation. it would bring just maybe a little bit of comfort and advice, at great personal cost, way greater than the good it would bring her. and he still did it, because raphael cares, especially when he sees someone going through something he went through as well. just so he could tell her that it gets better, that she's not alone. that he understands

and she fucking!! immediately!!!! uses that against him!!!!!! and continues to try to trigger his addiction again and again and again and again!!!! may i just say, WHAT THE FUCK

EVERY SINGLE TIME she tries to get him to drink her blood, it's not consensual, it's forced. he always hesitates, always tries to push her away, always turns his head. and she just pushes him anyway. even after she knows that he's been through this before. that it almost destroyed him. she knows exactly what she's triggering and bringing on, and she! does! it! anyway!!

watching some of the rizzy scenes, particularly the one where they are cooking together, makes me want to cry for him, because it's so obvious that what he's looking for is a deeper connection, someone to trust, to love, and what she's looking for is someone to satisfy her need. and look, i know addiction is terrible. but he's ALSO addicted. and again, i've met plenty of ppl who struggled with addiction, and they were able of, you know, not treating others like this

it drives me crazy! raphael lets her into his home, teaches her how to cook, opens up about the SINGLE SECRET ABOUT HIM THAT NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT EXCEPT FOR MAGNUS, and generally tries to have a good time with her, and not only does she immediately make his attempt at having a meaningful bonding time about him drinking her blood, but does it RIGHT AFTER HE TELLS HER ABOUT HIS SISTER??? it literally goes "here is my deepest most important secret that pains me greatly and is destroying me inside. oh, i said too much. i should have kept my mouth shut" "i'd rather you didn't *slits own wrist and makes him drink her blood*". like, girl, at least a word of comfort first??? a "you can tell me whatever you like"? an "i'm fucking sorry for your loss" maybe???????????? SHE TREATED HIM LIKE AN OBJECT

and also SHOUT THE FUCK OUT to "i didn't take you for a community service kind of guy", which granted is a minor thing to be upset about in the middle of this shitstorm, but still makes me want to rip my hair off. girl!! he's been doing nothing ever since you first met but helping you selflessly and getting only PAIN in return. like is she for real??? he went out of his way SO many times to help her, when he had NO reason to, not a single one. and she's still like "oh wow raphael cares about others?? im shocked" UDBDIDNDKSMSOSNSOSNSISBSUSBDUDBDIDNDIDNDI ARE YOU SERIOUSSSS

it's really such a revealing moment to me because it really shows that she didn't give any thought about everything he'd done for her. all the endless kindness and care, in the literal sense of TAKING CARE OF, that he offered her without a second thought. she never stopped to think about what it cost him. the fact that he didn't OWE IT TO HER, and thus it says something about his CHARACTER, because he CHOSE to help her. over and over and over again!!! AFTER SHE BETRAYED HIM MORE THAN ONCE. it never even crossed her mind! she just took it for granted, like it's what he was supposed to do, or something

and then!!!!!!! even after they go their separate ways!! and raphael is STILL caring for her and making sure she's okay! she decides to betray him one last time and have simon threaten his sister!!! and ill be honest i dont remember the reason for this, but i do remember that it wasn't fucking life and death, so like!!! it was just unnecessarily cruel and shitty of her and the biggest FUCK YOU to him and his trust. AND IT WASN'T NECESSARY AT ALL. like. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

and at this point izzy was recovering so it's just like. i get that before that we were literally seeing izzy at her ugliest, she even fought alec and said some shit that she definitely didn't mean at all and that was shitty and hurtful. so like obviously we were seeing izzy in her darkest, worst, most selfish, most hurt. which is why i can maybe cut her some slack for some shit (also i just realized i literally forgot that she straight up THREATENED HIM WITH A KNIFE god there is really So Much To Unpack Here), but at that point? at that point she had no excuse. she was recovering. this didn't even have anything to do with her addiction anyway. she was just proving that raphael's trust, his care, his fucking feelings, they meant nothing to her

like seriously! she could at least have the decency to go, after raphael was very obviously kind and considerate to me, maybe i should not conspire against him and bring forward his most important secret? i don't think i'm asking her for much here

and it also ends a circle of raphael opening up to her and trusting her and she betraying that trust EVERY SINGLE TIME! the literal single only thing he told her that she didn't use against him was his asexuality. which look, thank god, cuz that would have been way too ugly and uncalled for, but the bar is low here

(ok, maybe rizzy gets a shoutout for having raphael's asexuality be treated so naturally. especially coming from such an overtly sexual character like izzy. it was nice to have that. i also think that her whole line about how for the first time sex wasn't a big part of a relationship for her could have been explored in so many interesting ways. like it is obvious that izzy uses her sexuality as a way to gain confidence and prove her value and it would be cool to see that being addressed beyond throwaway lines, maybe talk a bit about hypersexualization of woc. but this is shadowhunters we're talking about so of course nah)

so like okay izzy gets a Not An Aphobe But Still Shitty badge for basically using raphael like he existed to provide her. and in short this is why i can't get into rizzy, not even in a very very alternate reality where it all went different and the way they met had nothing to do with addiction. because she really didn't care enough about him and he deserves so much better than this

and again, i know that izzy was at her damn lowest in that point, but i think that even if she weren't, ultimately their incompatibility still lies there - raphael is too selfless and izzy is not attuned to that. she would take what he offered and not really spare it a thought, even if she didn't mean to like, Use Him (cuz i dont think izzy meant to use him even in canon), like it was just expected. and he wouldn't point that out. and it would be. ugh

and yeah i think that summarizes my thoughts dudndjdn im sorry for the angry very long rant, i just started talking and it all was pouring out suddenly. i promise im not mad, i just...... have strong feelings about this whole thing

#anti rizzy #anti izzy lightwood #anti sh #anti sh fandom #salt #discourse #ask #anonymous #long post

[danganronpa-ps]

[PS] CHAPTER 5 | Execution

CHAPTER 5 EXECUTION - Fuminori Odane. 7/20 students remaining.

Upon feeling Yoshirou embrace him, he tenses, and never relaxes. It's hard for him to do so, after all, knowing who he was and what he's done; he was a murderer through and through, no matter his intention, or his circumstance. A life was ended by his own two hands, and he was getting his due because of it. However, he does, with hesitant motions, return the hug. He feels as if it's more for the sake of doing so rather than to provide comfort or reassurance, because he knows that he can only give so little. Eventually he lets go, and releases himself from this final embrace. It's agonizing, but his inevitable fate was drawing near. He might as well let go on his own accord. Before he's sent off, he looks at everyone. It requires all his strength, but with a final push, he smiles warmly.

"Keep fighting, okay?"

Sketch + Flats: Apple Painting + Shading: Anya

[HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS]

Before long, Fuminori finds himself enveloped in a cold, suffocating darkness that seemed to press on him from all directions, and fill every part of his body with a sensation of immense heaviness. By all means, he was met face to face with nothing but his own sense of self, but even that was beginning to ebb away with the numbing of his limbs and the fading of his consciousness, leaving behind only the sound of his heart beating wildly against his ears, and the fear that poisoned the blood that coursed through his veins. Perhaps this was what awaited him. Perhaps this was justice. Perhaps this was death. He could do nothing but wait and wonder with what little lucidity he had left, but just as his thoughts began to dissipate into a mere fog,

they suddenly converge, and he wakes up.

The first thing he sees is a blinding light, and the blurry shape of his own hand as he instinctively moves to block it from reaching his eyes. As his senses return to him, he feels his body pressing down against a soft bedding of weeds, and the gentle rays of the sun that shone through the sparsely covered sky, beating down against his being, wrapping him in a comforting blanket of warmth. For a moment, he feels as if he were in a dream, but clarity was next to return, and with it the strength to sit up, skin meeting a gentle breeze thereafter, and eyes, a vast sea of tall grass that swayed in waves with the push of the wind. He looks around, yet strangely, not with fear. The land was unfamiliar to him in every shape and form, but it instilled into him a comfort. A desire. A need to stand.

The horizon expands as he pushes himself to his feet. Now, he sees the subtle rolling of the land, and while abundant with greenery, the distance was another story, barren of anything but the plains the stretched out below him. By all means, there was nowhere to go, but not to Fuminori, for something beyond his sights seemed to pull at him, as if reaching out for an embrace, only to fall short. He’s hesitant; he did not know where to start, after all, and to set off of a journey without direction was something only a fool would do, but the wind then joins in its ushering, blowing past him, behind him, and towards a distant wish.

There’s a moment of doubt, but he eventually turns, and he walks. 

Soon, the sun sets, and the stars begin to shine brilliantly through the thin canopy of clouds while the moon, from the endless void above him, swathes him in its blue glow. Time passes, and his eyelids eventually grow heavy when he comes face to face with inevitable drowsiness, but he doesn’t cease his walking to rest, only pressing forward and onward, up until the sun peeks out from the horizon once again. 

Day. Night. Day. Night.

The scene around Fuminori begins to change, shifting and morphing as if subject to fantasy. The lush green fades into a dusty orange, and from the ground came trees that grew in his wake, sprouting leaves that just as quickly turned red and began to fall off of their branches, trailing behind him like a crimson storm. It’s only a matter of time before every last one falls, and the moment the final leaf leaves its abode, a biting cold quickly fills the air as if on cue.

The vibrant colors vanish under the dust that falls from the sky, which covers the once decorated scenery with a monotonous white. Nothing is spared from the cleansing storm that thickly coats the ground and bare the trees, turning everything into nothing more than dry, hollow shells of what they once were. It’s empty now, more than it ever was, but the farmer continues onward without pause nevertheless, in his persistent search for something in the distance.

Summer. Fall. Winter. Spring.

…

…Huh? How long has it been?

It was only when thousands upon thousands of all sorts of colors bloom from the dirt in the form of equally numerous flowers when reason returns to Fuminori. He pauses all of a sudden for the first time in hours, days, maybe even months, but as soon as he stops letting his legs carry him, it’s as if the blind force possessing him had suddenly left his body. With its departure, all sensation returns, and so does the weight of his journey on his body all at once. 

Suddenly, utter exhaustion and the intense ache of his legs sends him to his knees, while hunger and thirst grip at his being with an iron fist, afflicting him with an indescribable pain. He coughs and heaves as he curls up on the ground; it’s all overwhelming, crippling even. Everything strikes at him all at once and with an engulfing intensity, but it is before he finds himself drowning in this discordant sea that he pulls himself to shore.

He takes a deep breath, slow and steady. 

It sure feels like it, but he knows deep down that it’s not the end of the world. With this thought in tow, he lays there for a moment, maybe two, and then the worst of it subsides, allowing him to stumble back to his feet. He’s barely recovered before he sets his eyes forward, ready to trudge onwards all over again, but this time, something else shows itself to him, appearing in light of his tenacity.

Not so far away, there was a small house, old-seeming but well taken care of, and in front of it six blurry figures, all of which were wholly familiar. 

He runs forward before his thoughts could even begin to catch up to him. In that moment, all becomes clear-- he was chasing his desires, his purpose, his safety, his home. They were what his journey was for, and he was on his final stretch. Of course, how could he not see it? There was nothing more he wanted in the world than to be surrounded by what he loved the most, whether or not life was perfect. Perhaps he had lost sight of this simple philosophy along the way in his pursuit of stability, but now, through unyielding endurance, he is met with it once again. That was all that mattered to Fuminori, who’d suffered in its absence.

The faces of those he cherishes grow clearer when he draws closer. From a few feet away, he could see Naruki and Kayoko wave at him widely, while Kimito, Yoshika and his grandmother stand aside, far more subdued with their actions. In front of them all stands his mother, who remains still, but as soon as Fuminori stumbles over to their doorstep, she opens her arms, and with a big smile, exclaims,

“Welcome home, Fuminori! We all missed you, you know?”

He slows, and stares for a moment in disbelief, before he falls into the arms of his mother without a second thought, closing his eyes as he relaxes into her welcoming embrace. It’s something he missed so, so, dearly. The warmth of family, and the sound of their voices as they greet and tease him all the once; it might’ve been childish for him to call this moment as such, but he was finally home, where he belonged.

He made it.

Bliss graces him for the first time in a long while, and willingly he indulges, starved of anything even close to joy for so long, but before he’s able to fully come to terms with it,

the illusion quickly crumbles as a cold blade pierces his back.

It all happens too fast for him to even cry out, though reality is quick to fall on him as pain contaminates the short-lived joy. He begins to panic, just as anyone would. The arms that were once wrapped around his mother now flail as he grabs at the cloth on her back, and he pulls and pushes, but struggles to escape her grasp. Agony wracks him. Blood begins to fill his lungs and rob him of breath, and it hurts, but nothing stops his desperate attempts to wrench himself away. 

He claws, he twists, he pushes, and he tries his hardest, and yet he’s still weak and unable, even against his mother’s thin arms. Adrenaline does nothing. Resistance does nothing. He can do nothing. His silent gaze then begs the figures standing behind his mother for help, but they only watch, once happy expressions falling into that of resignation.

Indignant, he only continues to fight, but it’s too much. The sting of betrayal, the fear of death, the pounding of his wound, all add to the emotions that begin to mount and burst at the seams, and as tightly wound feelings unfurl into an ugly mess, he chokes out with a feeble breath,

“Why?”

A sudden stillness fills the air. It’s as if his words alone caused time to stop, but the pause does not last, as his mother begins to speak in a way that does not intend to mock, but to comfort.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you rest, Fuminori?”

Rest?

To rest was not what he wanted, he longed to say. He so desperately wished to say that she was wrong, that he could still persist, that he could keep going for all eternity if it meant that they could return to simpler times, but the only sounds that escape his mouth are weak coughs and gurgles. Frustrated, he grits his teeth, trying with all his remaining strength to prove her wrong, but the anger is quick to turn into tears once he realizes that he can’t. It’s stupid. It’s unfair. It’s pathetic, and he curses at himself, but from behind him, his mother’s expression only shifts. 

“…The world is cruel,” she says, “and efforts are not always met with success.” 

Her words are harsh, but her tone is gentle, loving even. She holds Fuminori close, cradling him as if he were still the small child he used to be, but this steady facade is quick to fall apart as her features begin to shake. She lays her head against his shoulder, and with great effort she murmurs, 

“I’m sorry.”

…Ah.

Fuminori was stubborn, but not dumb. He never thought that he would ever have to come face to face with it, and while he had refused to acknowledge it as an end for as long as he’s lived, he knew what this was, in all of its dreadfulness.

This was failure.

Regardless of whether or not Fuminori choses to continue fighting, his body soon refuses to listen to him; his arms fall to his side as the final traces of defiance drain away, and his legs then fail to support his weight despite his protests, causing him to sink to the floor in the arms of his mother, who keeps her hold, slowly lowering herself to the ground with her eldest son slumped over her shoulder. There’s silence, before he hears her begin to weep for him, and eventually, everyone he’s ever loved follow with their own sorrowful wails as they fall to their knees by his side, unable to do anything but watch the boy who’s succumbed to fate’s cruel hand wither away.

In his final moments, Fuminori thinks. He thinks about how he wanted to wipe his loved ones’ tears. He thinks about how he wanted give them a reason to be happy. He thinks about how he wanted to give them everything. He thinks about his many unfulfilled wishes, and his equally plentiful regrets. If he could, he’d chase all of these desires for as long as he had to if it meant that he’d someday come close to a happy ending, but the choice seemed to be his no longer. In the end, it was that of death, in all its finality. 

In his utter powerlessness, Fuminori could do no more but listen to his family’s cries, and lament about how terribile they sounded.

As his vision swims, so do the images in front of him, before they eventually fade along with the flame that one burned brightly within. He dies, but not of his own accord.

Perhaps it’s better this way.

#danganronpa #fanganronpa #drrp #dr #danganronpa roleplay #danganronpa oc #paradigm shift

[terrifyingstories2]

daisy has had a rocky relationship with their gauntlets. when jemma introduced the gauntlets to her in season two, they represented fear of their powers and the desire to stamp them out. she knew jemma was only trying to help when she created them and felt guilty about her reservations, but the side effects they caused and knowing their intention to repress her powers as well as slowly gaining a greater sense of jemma’s fear of inhumans and feelings about them in general made using them painful and uncomfortable for her. they needed to put them down and get to know their powers in a place like afterlife and gain a sense of acceptance and appreciation for them without fear.

moving into season three, she has a healthier relationship with them. they’ve been modified with the focus of protecting her rather than limiting her powers and no longer represent repression or fear. it takes awhile to get used to them but eventually they become a part of their life and routine.

in season four, daisy is shattered. they’re at the lowest point we see them throughout the course of the show and due to their mental state, they take off the gauntlets. i think in part it’s because they’ve come to represent fitz and simmons and the reminder hurts her, but not wearing them becomes a deliberate form of self harm. she feels she deserves the pain that comes from not wearing them and resorts to pain meds (i think partially a failed attempt to manage lingering effects and withdrawal of hive that they never had a chance to recover from) and shield’s special concoction for accelerated healing to manage it just enough to get around and do what needs to get done but not enough to provide any real relief. she wants the pain and actively refuses to wear them because she doesn’t deserve the protection they provide. it’s self harm, plain and simple. at several points we see daisy more or less attempt suicide.

it isn’t until their mental state begins to improve that daisy puts the gauntlets back on and begins to wear them consistently. they’re still struggling but not actively trying to harm themselves, and over time daisy becomes better about allowing medical attention and taking medical advice not just to prevent debilitating injury but also to promote healing and pain management. they’re reconnecting with their family at shield and working through their guilt and trauma resulting from hive and beginning to put themselves back together. this continues into season five even despite several excruciating blows that have the potential to cause regression (learning she may have destroyed the world and watching ben die after his attempts to help her tempts the worst of daisy’s guilt to rear its ugly head, coming to terms with coulson’s death, etc.)

when fitz forcibly removes the inhibitor blocking daisy’s powers later in the season, the gauntlets are tainted once again. her relationships with fitz and jemma are deeply damaged and the association between fitzsimmons and the gauntlets is so strong that i think a part of daisy really really wants to put them down. what used to be a reminder of their love and concern for her now just hurts, reminding her of fitz’ actions against her. i think the contrast between the fitz who embraced and protected her in season two when she’d more or less been abandoned and who worked tirelessly to modify the gauntlets so they felt comfortable to her and the fitz that would drug, restrain, and cut into her is so painful that they almost can’t bear to put them back on.

but ultimately, despite everything, daisy knows they don’t have a choice. she’s going through one of the hardest times in her life - fitz and simmons seem unrecognizable, coulson is dying, her family seems irreversibly fractured and she feels completely alone, but she’s no longer in a place where she wants to suffer or feels she deserves to. not wearing the gauntlets puts her at a much higher risk of suffering severe injury to their arms and they know that when it comes down to put, they have to use them.

and so, she fights the association to fitz and tries to reframe the meaning of the gauntlets once again. they now mean not just protection for their arms but also reaching a point in their life where they know they don’t deserve to suffer and have worked through a lot of major guilt. of having moved beyond self harm and into a healthier mindset and means of coping with guilt and pain. it represents self love and care even when it’s awful and dark and gritty and its most difficult, taking care of herself when it’s the hardest thing in the world to do.

#re: of your heart. #* #meta: daisy. #ask to tag / #torture / #abuse / #suicidal ideation / #suicide mention / #depression / #addiction / #self harm /