#I sobbed writing this

[steddiealltheway]

Idk where this came from but anyways

It's May 28th, and it's pouring outside. It's the type of rain that makes the housewives of Hawkins want to curl up and read a book, but instead they're yelling at their children to stop playing in the puddles and come inside. At least that's what Eddie imagines as the rain soaks through his clothes, drops clinging to his eyelashes and falling down his face - he desperately wishes they're not tears.

He doesn't know where he is if he's completely honest. He's been walking for a while now, trying to avoid those puddles but giving up when his socks become soaked just from being out in the storm. He kind of wishes he was home, but simultaneously wants to be anywhere else.

A car drives by him on the backroad and comes to a stop a few meters in front of him. It's almost comedic, the way the car comes to a stop then very slowly starts to reverse, as if the driver is talking themselves into whatever they're about to say to Eddie.

"Need a ride?" the driver asks.

Eddie brushes the wet hair out of his eyes and finds Steve Harrington of all people looking at him in concern. He scoffs. "I'd rather take my chances out here." Which is the exact moment that lightning strikes close enough that Eddie can feel the ground shake. It would be kind of metal if he wasn't shaking.

"Get in the car, Munson," Steve insists reaching over to push open the passenger side door. Eddie keeps walking. With the way the rain is pouring, he's surprised he's able to hear Steve curse under his breath.

The car slowly drives next to him, right window down causing the rain to likely soak the interior of the car. He doesn't know why Harrington cares so much. "I'm not going to leave you alone until you get in."

Munson raises an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty creepy, Harrington. You're not exactly helping your case." He treks on forward, hoping that Steve might take the hint and leave him alone. He hears the car come to a stop, and he's prepared for Steve to turn around and come back from wherever he came from.

Instead, his car door slams shut. Eddie glances to see Steve walking towards him. Eddie backs up. He's not threatened per say, but it's a natural response to whenever he sees a jock stalking towards him.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks.

"If you're not going to take up my offer on a ride, then I'm walking with you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, but he lets Steve walk alongside him. It's... weird, but weird in the way that it doesn't feel weird. It's almost like it feels... right. Eddie shakes his head. "Why are you doing this?" It's not like he knows him. He doesn't think he's exchanged a single word with the man until now.

"Maybe I needed the company, too," Steve replies. Eddie wants to argue that he doesn't want company, and he certain doesn't need it, but saying that feels like a lie even in his head.

They get a few more steps in before Eddie comes to a halt. Steve turns to him and waits. Eddie gives in with a sigh, "Let's go to the car."

When they get in, Steve reaches into his back seat and snatches two towels, handing one to Eddie before he wraps one around himself. Eddie is too afraid to ask why he had them in the first place.

They drive for a couple minutes without talking, but Eddie isn't one who can sit in silence for long so he asks, "Shouldn't you be at Tommy's end of year party or whatever?" He's certain he had heard people talking about it for weeks falling on this particular day.

"He and I aren't exactly friends so no." Steve doesn't give any further explanation, and there's no hint of regret in his tone. Eddie has no idea when that had happened but is glad to be out of the gossip loop of Hawkins High School.

"Okay, so go to Wheeler's place." Eddie wasn't far enough out to not know about the supposed power couple.

"She broke up with me, called our relationship bullshit, so I don't think that's really an option."

Okay, Eddie is officially not in the loop. This time he can hear the tightness in Steve's tone, and he tries not to dwell on the small voice crack that accompanied the word "bullshit." He glances over to see Steve's hand flex on the steering wheel, knuckles white. He feels almost bad for bringing it up, so he changes the subject. "Where are we going?"

Steve shrugs. "Anywhere that's not home." It's a simple statement but the weight of it makes Eddie want to ask a million questions about what could be so bad about the Harrington residence.

But everyone has their own shit they're dealing with, so Eddie agrees, "Anywhere that's not home." But a few minutes later, he knows exactly where he wants to go, was probably walking there without even realizing it. "Turn left here," Eddie requests, and Steve follows without question.

A few turns later and Eddie is asking Steve to park on the curb. He hesitates to glance out the window, the image outside makes his stomach churn. Steve glances to his left and takes his keys out of the ignition. He climbs out of the car to Eddie's surprise and leads their way into the cemetery.

After Eddie finds his ability to accept reality, he leads the way to the tombstone he tries not think about. Steve takes in a sharp intake of breath next to him as Eddie freezes and stares at the grave.

Elizabeth Munson January 13, 1947 - May 28, 1973

"I don't know why I wanted to come here," Eddie says honestly staring at the name and thinking about how his Uncle Wayne has been locked up in his room like he is on this day every year - flooded with the thoughts of his baby sister. "It's not like I can talk to her," Eddie mumbles out.

Steve asks, "If you could talk to her what would you say?"

Eddie freezes at the thought. What would he say? He speaks without thinking. "I'd say I miss her. That I love her even though I've nearly forgotten what her voice sounds like. That I stole her bottle of perfume after they found her, and I need to ask her what scent it is because it's nearly run out." Eddie chokes on a sob, not realizing he had even started crying.

Steve reaches out and laces his fingers between Eddie's as he continues. "I'd apologize for flunking my senior year but insist that I'm trying not to be like Dad. I'm really trying. I'm trying so hard, but I feel like I fail every day. I'd tell her that Uncle Wayne misses her and was a wreck without her but still managed to raise me. I'd probably scream at her though. Ask her why she ever went back when she promised she would stay sober for me. She'd promised..." he trails off with a sob, and the next thing he knows is Steve Harrington is pulling him into his chest, cradling him as he cries.

It's fucking embarrassing or it should be, but Eddie needs this more than anything in the world.

"I remember her," Steve says softly, voice straining. "She used to read at the library before..." Before she went back to Eddie's dad once he got out of jail, and he gotten her hooked again. Before she broke the promise she had kept for years to stay sober. Before her body was found by her own brother after a young Eddie had told him she had been sleeping all day.

"She was so kind to me," Steve says breaking Eddie out of his spiraling thoughts, hand running through his hair and gently untangling the wet curls. "She would sneak an extra candy for me any time I saw her. And I would always beg my mom to stay longer because Ms. Munson was the only one who did all the voices right. And she would get so loud while jumping on the reading chairs with the biggest smile on her face, not caring that the librarian was shooting her the most annoyed faces... You remind me of her, really."

Eddie's stuttering breath evens out as he remembers being in that same library proudly watching his mom and her theatrics. She had always been so unapologetically herself, and Eddie has wanted more than anything to be just like her. He squeezes Steve tighter and chokes out, "Thank you."

They stay like that for a while, Steve holding Eddie while he cries until he can't anymore. Both of them reciting the tales of the great Ms. Munson recalling the time she had accidentally knocked over a bookshelf when imitating a ballerina in the children's book she was reading. Eddie had never known that Steve had been there almost the whole time, but it's nice to finally meet someone whose memories of his mom aren't from the last months of her life.

It has stopped raining when Eddie pulls away from the embrace. He's sure his eyes are puffy and red and there's definitely some of his snot on Steve's polo soaked in water and tears. But Eddie finds that Steve's eyes are similarly glossy and pink, and for some reason it's endlessly comforting.

Steve asks Eddie if he's ready to go, and Eddie looks at the grave one last time before nodding. Steve intertwines their fingers and leads the way back to his car. The drive back is relatively quiet, but Eddie relaxes in the silence. Steve reaches over and holds his hand again which makes Eddie's chest tighten.

He wonders what's back at home for him, and what happened to change King Steve and make him so overwhelmingly kind and caring. But he doesn't ask, not wanting to stir up the memories of what he's trying to run away from.

As Steve pulls into the trailer park, Eddie easily directs him in front of his home. Steve parks the car and gets out before Eddie can say goodbye and pretend like this never happened for Steve's sake. Instead, Steve pulls him into another hug, but he buries his head into Eddie's neck, and it feels like he needs this more than Eddie does.

So, Eddie takes his turn holding him. Running a hand through his extremely soft hair which has him relaxing further against him. He pulls back reluctantly after a few moments and says, "Thank you."

Eddie isn't entirely sure what he's thanking him for when Eddie should be thanking him, so he replies, "Thank you."

Steve lingers in his space for a few seconds longer before squeezing his arm and giving him a smile. Eddie waves goodbye and walks back to his trailer, finding Steve waiting to make sure he gets inside okay. As he hears the car drive off, he wonders if maybe his mother sent Steve Harrington for him that day.

[elizabethemerald]

A Shade Darker than Red: Part 6

Jason was exploring the Infinite Realms when he felt something pull at him. Danny had trained him in enough of the common ghost skills that he would be safe exploring on his own. Apparently he, as a brand new ghost and Danny’s trainee, fell under the aegis of Danny’s crown. Few ghosts would seriously attack him and he was now skilled enough that any of the playful bouts with the other ghosts could go either way. He was obviously still not as skilled as the ghosts who had centuries to train, and was nowhere close to Danny’s own level, (a fact that irked him to no end). 

When he first felt the tug, stubborn and insistent pulling on something inside him, he carefully looked around like he had been taught by Danny. The situational awareness he had been previously been trained in was next to useless in the endless green sea of the Realms. He was about to dismiss the strange feeling when he couldn’t find any source to the possible threat. 

Then the tug began to burn. He screamed in pain and fear as something yanked on his core. Danny said the ghost’s core was everything to them, brain and heart and soul in one, and something was pulling on his fit to pull it from his body. He screamed for Danny, screamed into the ectoplasm of the Zone, just like he did when he first formed. And just like when he first formed, Danny answered. The King of All Ghosts bent the very Infinite Realms themselves to fly to Jason’s side. 

Danny wrapped him in his impossibly large and powerful aura, surrounded him as the pull became too strong to resist and took the pull upon himself. Jason sighed in relief as the burning in his core eased. He could now focus enough to feel the emotions behind the pull. There was grief and muted rage and grief and sorrow and grief and grief and grief and…

A crackling tear opened in the Realms surrounding them and they both slipped through, invisible and silent to hover in the light of the sun over a large crowd. For a moment Jason felt like he was drowning in the grief of the people below him before he could focus on what was happening. He and Danny had emerged in the air above a funeral. His funeral. 

.

The day of Jason’s funeral, his second funeral, was a bright and sunny one. Dick felt it was a betrayal. The weather of Gotham, normally so gloomy and dark, was bright when it should have been in mourning just like him. 

There was a lot of debate among his remaining siblings about what to do with Jason’s body. After his first death, Jason had been buried on the grounds of Wayne Manor next to Thomas and Martha. Bruce thought it was fitting that his son was buried next to his parents. However once Jason came back, the manor was never really his home again. He had never felt welcomed there, no matter how much his siblings and Alfred had tried. Even though Bruce was currently staying on the Watchtower they didn’t want to risk it. 

Eventually they decided on a small plot in an abandoned lot in Crime Alley. That was where Jason was born, where he lived, and where he died. They would lay him to rest there. Tim handled the purchase of the lot, which was long overgrown and the locals treated it almost as a park. Seemed like the perfect place to lay him to rest. 

They had expected it to be just a private affair, only siblings and Alfred. Except apparently word got out that not only was Jason getting buried, but that Jason was also the Red Hood. Hood’s lieutenants came along with some of the working girls from the Alley. The kids Jason had saved or protected filled out most of the rest of the seats. Really it was a packed house. All here to grieve Jason and acknowledge his impact on their lives. 

There were no capes present. The family were dressed in their civilian attire. Roy and Kori were patrolling the rest of Gotham and would come to pay their own respects later. The Justice League not only hadn’t been invited, they had been explicitly banned from the funeral and the city. Any reporters that tried to enter the lot were forcibly removed by members of Hood’s gang. 

Dick, Tim, Cass and Steph were the pallbearers of Jason’s second coffin. Damian wanted to take part but he was too short, so he and Duke formed an honor guard on either side of the coffin. They choose a simple pinewood box, rather than the more expensive modern coffins. Jason had managed to dig himself out of the grave once, if he had to do it again they wanted to make it easier. There was also a bevy of sensors to detect movement and an emergency beacon, just in case. Damian had even slipped one of his favorite daggers into the coffin so Jason could use it to dig himself out if he needed to. 

The family sans Bruce stood around the grave to say their piece. 

Dick sobbed as he told Jason how much he loved him, and how he was sorry he hadn’t been there for him. He tossed his flower onto the coffin. 

Cass signed her farewell. Saying simply that she loved him. Would always love him and that he was her brother. She set her flower onto the coffin. 

Tim’s farewell was given in a monotone as he tried to reign in his wild emotions. He apologized for taking Jason’s spot the first time. He gave his own forgiveness for Jason’s attempts on his life. He had to turn away and press his face to Dick’s shoulder after he put his flower on his coffin. 

Duke called Jason a brother, a friend and a fighter till the end. He said the hole Jason had left was one that could never be filled. He set his flower on the grave and held Steph while she cried. 

Barbara told her favorite story of Jason, from a time when she was Batgirl and he was Robin, though she kept her real meaning hidden in metaphor. She tossed her flower on his coffin and pulled Dick’s hand to her shoulder. 

Damian sounded furious as he set his flower on Jason’s coffin. His hands shook with suppressed rage, the boy unable to give voice to his grief in any way other than anger. He promised Jason that he would continue to protect Crime Alley in his stead. 

Steph’s voice cracked and broke as she cried through her farewell. She said that Jason was like a brother to her, that she missed the way he cooked and their pranking wars. She dropped her flower from on the coffin then had to grab Cass in a tight hug, hiding her face from the gathered audience. 

Alfred was the last of the family to say his farewell. He placed his flower with the same precision and elegance he brought to every part of his life. If his hands shook when he pulled it back, then no one mentioned it. He gave his apologies and a soft farewell of, “May his memory be a blessing.” 

The family stepped back, standing to the side to allow the other mourners to step forward, but they were hardly the last to say their goodbyes to Jason. All manner of people from Crime Alley came up to the grave with Jason’s coffin laying in it. Old grannies from corner stores that Hood had protected, thugs and gangsters of every persuasion who had worked for former crime lord stepped forward and gave their respects, prostitutes who had worked the street corners under his watchful eye sobbed as they spoke, and children he had saved from kidnappers came forward, some not even understanding what they were doing but they still laid flowers on the coffin. 

Some of those who said their farewells came up to the family, some offered hugs, handshakes, or just a quiet hand on their shoulders. Some of the grannies offered food for the family, saying they were always welcome. Some of the kids offered drawings that drew fresh tears from everyone present. 

Eventually the crowd tapered down and drew back. Jason’s coffin was almost completely covered in a pile of flowers. An entire neighborhood united behind one family over the death of one man. If there was ever a greater testament to the impact Jason had made on the lives of those around him, Dick hadn’t seen it. 

As most of the crowd left the lot one of Hood’s lieutenants pulled Dick aside, a hand on his shoulder. Dick wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to someone who was part of Jason’s criminal empire, but from what the man said over the coffin, Dick had to assume the two were close. 

“Do you know who did this to him?” The man asked. 

Dick weighed his response, it was an incredibly inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, but he knew the criminal underworld of Gotham worked on a different wavelength than the rest of the city. In the end his fury at Bruce won out. 

“The Bat.” 

The man’s face soured and he growled. 

“If any of those capes show their faces in Crime Alley, we’ll fill them full of lead for you.” 

That wasn’t what Dick wanted. That wasn’t what Jason would have wanted he hoped. In his hurry to correct the misimpression he let his mouth run ahead of his brain for a moment. 

“We didn’t want this to happen.” 

Even as his voice cracked on the words, he wished he could pull them back. The man’s eyebrows rose and Dick could watch the calculating look on his face as he turned and examined the rest of the family in turn. Dick was about to panic as the man turned back to him. 

“Don’t you worry none, Red Hood cared for you, even if he didn’t always say it. We’ll keep the Alley running just like he would have wanted it.” He hesitated for a moment longer. “I can’t believe the Bat finally crossed his line. Who would have thought that Batman would kill Red Hood?” 

.

Jason needed to leave. He needed to go. 

He had cried in Danny’s arms as each of his siblings said their farewells. He had cried as the flowers on his coffin had piled higher and higher, each person there remembering and mourning him in their own way. Danny had held him, swathed in his aura, keeping them silent, invisible and intangible throughout the proceedings. 

But now he needed to leave. 

Batman had killed him. Bruce had killed him. 

Like a flash the memories of his second death rushed through him. 

He remembered tailing Bruce to an Alley, aiming to question him on what he was doing in his turf. Bruce had triggered something that took out his coms, then led him into a nearby building. They talked, Bruce told him that his criminal activities were too much, that he would have to take him into Arkham. They fought. Bruce kept punching long after Jason was beaten. 

Jason never would have thought that Bruce would have finally crossed his own line and murder him. Bruce, who had refused to kill the Joker, no matter how many lives he had taken, no matter that he had taken his own son from him, had decided that Jason was human enough to be worth saving. He wasn’t human enough to count against Bruce’s rule. 

Danny pulled the two of them back into the Infinite Realms as Jason hyperventilated even though he no longer needed to breathe. He couldn’t hear more than the ringing in his ears, though he could see Danny’s lips moving. Danny surrounded himself in a green, protective bubble, and kept mouthing something. 

“Let it out. Let it out Jason.” 

Jason threw his head back and wailed. He put his grief, his rage, his betrayal into the wail, every ounce of power he could behind it. He wailed and wailed, the very ectoplasm in the air around them shivering and quaking in the face of his grief. Danny stood, safe behind his shield and watched as he wailed and watched as the wail died on his lips. And Danny was there again, wrapping him up tight in a full body hug, allowing Jason to rest in the safety of his overwhelmingly powerful aura. Darkness crept into his vision, before he finally passed out.

[simonsnow-irl]

you are loved: a poem

you are two years old

and you are loved.

i know things are rough,

but you are loved.

your mother cradles you 

in her arms

through the forest.

there are thorny vines

weaving around her ankles

but you are loved so you are safe.

your mother is escaping,

taking you with her,

your brother is running alongside her,

his little feet bleeding.

you run

and you run

and you run

and you run.

she carries you with her 

because you are loved.

little girl, you are safe,

little girl, you will be okay,

little girl, you are loved.

i will say it as many times 

as i need to.

you are loved.

you are seven years old

and you are loved

you’re sitting in a field,

other children running around you.

they don’t look at you.

they dont even see you. 

they look your way

and you can tell

its not you 

their eyes land on

they see the grass

you sit atop of.

they see the 

dandelions 

crushed beneath your body.

they see your shadow

but not you.

invisible to them

but seen to me.

because you are loved.

you are loved.

you come home

and you are alone,

you make yourself food,

you sit in front of the tv,

you do your homework,

and you sleep.

but you are not alone.

i am here. i hear you.

and i tell you, little girl

you are loved.

i know mommy isnt here

i know you miss your papi

but know that i am here.

your matted hair,

your yellow teeth,

your ill-fitting clothes,

and you are still loved.

i promise little girl

i will always love you.

you are twelve years old

and you are loved

you’ll never be alone

even if they all leave

because you have yourself,

little boy.

as you’ve aged

you understand why

why they dont like you

why they dont want you

why they wont talk to you

to them

you are strange

to me

you are beautiful

youre a butterfly

spreading its wings

for the first time. 

youre a baby

taking its first steps.

youre a sapling

slowly blooming

and i will be there

every step of the way

you will get through this.

i love you as much as 

the sun loves the earth,

as the waves love the shore,

you are so loved

cant you see?

you are so young

youre becoming so strong

dont let go now.

dont let go now.

if you ask why,

i will say you need to be alive

i will say your family needs you

i will say your pets will miss you

i will say you have such a bright future

even if it doesnt feel that way

the biggest reason why is

you are loved.

by your mother

by your father

by your siblings

by me

little boy, dont let go

you are loved.

you are sixteen years old

and you are loved

you feel so broken.

i can feel it.

your life has

changed forever,

and you are not

okay.

and i can tell you now,

it won’t get better.

not for years. 

not for a while.

it’ll get worse too.

but, little boy,

when it does,

it’s amazing.

you are so full of love,

and it will shine.

you will be appreciated

and you will be cared for

because it is so easy to love you.

i know this because

you are loved.

not only by me,

but by 

the stars,

the whole of time and space,

the universe,

every single planet,

they love you.

soon you’ll see,

and it’ll be wonderful.

it’s okay to fail

and to try again.

try again as much as you need

because you will thrive

fight as much as you can,

but it’s okay to not be able to sometimes.

all you need to do is take care of yourself,

and i’ll be there to guide you.

just a few more steps,

little boy,

and it’ll start to fall into place.

i promise to you

i will be here 

because you are loved.

you are eighteen years old

and you are loved

this year,

i’m unsure of what to say.

this year,

life was terrible to you.

and i am so sorry.

but you were so loved this year,

even if you didn’t expect it

or realize it.

oh, little boy,

how wonderful it is.

i told you it would be.

you started a new life

and found and refound friendships

in the ashes of the lost ones.

connections you never thought were possible,

the feeling of belongingness so foreign

but so welcome.

things will only get better.

remember, you are loved

no matter what.

and now you are nineteen years old

and you are still loved.

i know this 

because i am you.

and i know i am loved.

i am loved by 

the most beautiful girl

i am loved by

my best friends

i am loved by

my family

and, most importantly,

i am loved by me. 

when i see myself in the mirror,

i see the little girl in the thorny forest,

i see the little invisible girl with yellow teeth,

i see the little boy with a razor in his hand,

i see the little boy in the midst of a pandemic,

and i see the little boy who had lost everyone he lived for.

i love every version of me,

no matter how miserable,

i have always deserved to feel loved.

and loved i feel.

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

...I'm sorry

Ellie sat at the bedside, strumming the guitar Joel had found for her. She played quietly for him every evening to help him sleep. He said it helped, when he could speak. She looked at him, lying there in the bed, and teared up. He was weak and getting weaker, they all knew the end was close.

Tommy had been there earlier, speaking to her softly. “His heart is failing. Doc says it’ll be tonight.” Ellie had nodded, her eyes wide. They’d all known it was coming. Tommy had left to find the others.

Ellie played a few more cords Joel had taught her, then fingered the engraving he had carved for her on the side.

“Ellie,” he said softly.

She wiped her eyes quickly, laying the guitar aside to lean forward and hold his hand with both of hers. Thirty-two years later, and her hands were still so much smaller than his.

“Hi Joel,” she replied quietly.

“I’m so glad to see you, babygirl,” he muttered.

She nodded. “Me too. How are you feeling?”

He paused for a moment, then turned his face to smile at her. “Happy.” He reached out, cupping her cheek with his free hand. “You’re still getting better at the guitar. You could teach me a thing or two now.”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “No, Joel, you taught me everything.”

Joel shook his head, coughing slightly. “You taught me one thing. You always forget that one.”

“I don’t think you learned well enough,” her voice broke.

He laughed slightly, weakly. “It’s time, babygirl. We had a good life here.”

Ellie had had thirty-two years with Joel and had watched him mellow out, had watched him heal, had watched him step into a protective role for her child and grandchild, moving away from a violent, desperate protection to a kind of nurturing protection that he’d started showing with her decades ago. She’d watched him grow into this, had grown and changed with him, but it still struck her sometimes. He had been so different when they had met. They both had.

The door opened quietly, and Tommy came inside, followed by Maria, their daughter, Dina, and JJ. JJ was carrying her daughter.

“More people wanted to come, but I didn’t think they should,” Tommy muttered quietly.

“No,” Ellie agreed, still gripping Joel’s hand. “Now’s a time for just family.”

“Look at you,” Joel said softly, smiling around the room. “Y’all here for me?”

“Course, Joel,” Tommy replied. He laid a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing her shoulder in comfort. “You think we would just let you leave?”

Joel chuckled. “Not sure you have a say in the matter, Tommy.”

One by one, each of them stepped forward to speak to Joel quietly, give him a hug, kiss his cheek. Ellie didn’t let go of his hand the entire time, and he didn’t try to pull away from her. They left one by one, after saying their goodbyes, hugging each other and holding hands, until it was just Ellie sitting where she’d been at his bedside, their hands still locked together. He reached over with his other hand, closing it over hers and rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“I love you, Ellie, you know that,” he muttered.

She snorted. “Yeah, old man. I love you too.”

“Ellie?” he asked again, his eyes closed. His voice was so weak. His hand started to slip off of hers.

“I’m here, Joel. I got you.” Tears fell from Ellie’s eyes. “Go be with Sarah, now.” She smiled slightly through her tears. “Tell her I say hey.”

[kels-gvf]

The beginning of 2022 was really rough. I was going through a change in myself learning that some of the people I was around were toxic. I decided that cutting them out was best for me and at some points that was very hard because I only felt like I only had my husband as my friend which is nice obviously but you need other connections and I went through a deep depression of feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere.

Then in august I found greta and at first I just thought oh just another band to obsess over. No I was completely wrong this band has taught me things about the world I never knew and I genuinely think that the universe knew I needed them. I learned to go out in the world and that it’s not all that scary if I just step alittle out of my comfort zone. Finding greta was the best thing that has ever happened to me and I do realize that being a fan for only 4 months (nearly 5) is not a lot but in the last 4 months I’ve done more then I’ve ever done in my 25 years of life. Not only that I’m so grateful to all of you that just accepted me with open arms because that truly healed a part of me that desperately needed to be healed. I can wait to see what the boys do this next year.

[rhinestonesox]

When Senshi was young in the dungeon the majority of the adults he were with ostracized him. All except Gillin, who died to make sure Senshi had something to eat: unseasoned boiled meat that may or may not have been one of their comrades.

It really puts into perspective why he was so nurturing towards Chilchuck. When Chil reveals he’s 28 to the party, Senshi responds by telling him that he thought he was older. Senshi was in his 30s when he and his comrades got trapped in the dungeon, so it’s safe to assume that he thought Chil was at a similar age.

He met a young boy who was, from his perspective, forced to do dangerous work in the dungeon just like he was, and so, Senshi made an effort to look after Chilchuck in the same way Gillin looked after him.

Mind you, when Senshi was young in the dungeon he had to starve for weeks, eat the horse he loved, and finish it off spending the next i don’t know how many years wondering if he committed cannibalism.

Senshi understands first hand the value of nutrition and proper eating, so when he’s with the party he makes an effort to make sure they’re all eating a full and balanced diet. Not only that, but Senshi INVOLVES them in the process of getting food to eat, always preparing it in front of them and narrating every ingredient in the process so that there’s no doubt about what they’re eating.

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

The products of trying to recreate what was going on outside the frame during the kiss. (for ENTIRELY SCIENTIFIC purposes)

@actual-changeling altered my whole outlook on life with this post about Aziraphale's left hand (I'd only been looking at his right hand) and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I painted the rest of the fucking owl (and his bf).

so normal about this

[quecksilvereyes]

since im on a roll about tragedies:

i am sick to death of fourth wall breaks that are funny. i want fourth wall breaks that make me want to cry.

give me hamlet looking up during his monologue to see the audience and plead with them for help. give me orpheus, on the road back up from the underworld begging us to make sure eurydice is there, to tell him she is safe. give me orpheus turning when the audience stays silent.

give me someone, bloody and full of tears monologuing to the camera when the narrative has wound itself so tight that they can't escape it anymore.

"youre just watching me. help me. im dying and im rotting and im losing myself and you wont do a thing."

i want the tragedy to be the performance. i want the tragedy to be, truly, in the eyes of the beholder.

[skyartworkzzz]

Like The Other Ones

HI YES IM FINALLY DONE HOLY SHIT

OKAY SO this was based off on my own gameplay of COTL, I noticed that everytime Id put food orders in, Narinder would usually be the one to prepare them And honestly? We love a malewife in this house so I dig that for him, ma guy is a skilled cook <3

As I wrote down the dialogue, it just got deeper than I expected SO HERE YALL GO WITH A FULL ASS COMIC ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP, ENJOY!!!!

This shit took me weeks Ill go recharge my soul now brb-

[kittysauce]

au where L and Light fall in love during the yotsuba arc ............... i think its a crazy interesting concept

[saintobio]

LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS !

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), misogyny, violence, war, rebellion, suggestive, smut, gore, double life, explicit language, more to be added

♱ notes. this fic draws heavy inspirations from the webnovel ‘sister, i am the queen in this life’ and manhwa of the same name. it’s basically a fanfic of that series bc i am obsessed with it :’D

♱ status. on-going (slow updates)

♱ THIS SERIES WILL SERVE AS THE THE SECOND TIMELINE -> READ HERE FOR THE FIRST TIMELINE (ORIGINAL STORY) ♱

PROLOGUE.

ACT I. THE LADY

ACT II. THE CROWN PRINCE

ACT III. THE KNIGHT

ACT IV. THE STAR CROSSED LOVERS

ACT V. THE BLESSED

ACT VI. THE SIN

ACT VII. THE REVELATION

ACT VIII. THE ENEMY

ACT IX. THE LOVER

ACT X. THE EMPRESS

EPILOGUE.

PROLOGUE 

Like plunging beneath the surface of water and then, abruptly, breaking through to the air above—your body jolted as if awakening in a new world altogether. You drew in a long breath, your eyes fluttering open to reveal the ceiling, both familiar yet unfamiliar in its greeting. Swiftly, you surveyed your surroundings, noting with growing recognition the confines of your old room within the De Roma estate. The estate! 

You were not in the palace of Caelum, but in the estate of House De Roma. A surge of realization flooded through you as you dashed towards the nearest mirror, confronting your reflection with wide, startled eyes. 

No... could it be... that you have returned to your body, ten years prior?!

In the mirror, the reflection staring back at you was not that of the notorious wife of the tyrant Emperor Satoru, but of a 20-year-old maiden, the eldest daughter of Duke de Roma, with fuller cheeks and a more youthful appearance. You could not shake the feeling of disbelief, wondering if this was all just a dream, so you reached out to touch your arms and felt the flesh beneath your fingers, trying to convince yourself that this was an unexpected reality.

Oh, you were back. You found yourself returned to your former self, a decade younger, but now armed with the knowledge of your past life's actions and their consequences. Alongside this newfound understanding, the gift of clairvoyance had also been bestowed upon you.

And for what? Why had the heavens above returned you to your body? Was it for revenge, a second chance, or perhaps punishment?

Suddenly, a loud, deafening sound pierced your ears, and a blinding white light enveloped your vision. Your body became as still as a statue, and it felt as though your soul was transported to a fourth dimension where divine intervention seemed a lot more plausible to exist.

As your soul hovered in the liminal space between life and death, you found yourself standing before a figure cloaked in billowing robes, her presence commanding and her gaze piercing. This figure was Fortuna, the ancient Caelan goddess of fortune and fate, her visage austere and unforgiving.

“Are you aware of the sins that stain your soul?” 

“Have you felt the weight of your transgressions, the consequences of your actions that have wrought suffering upon your people and brought ruin to your empire?”

Her voice echoed through the realm with the divine judgment that weighed upon your conscience, while her gaze penetrated to the core of your being and demanded honesty and accountability in the face of your past misdeeds.

“Will you atone for your sins?” 

“Will you seize this opportunity for redemption, or will you squander it in self-pity and remorse?”

As you stood in the presence of the ancient goddess, grappling with the heaviness of your sins and the daunting task ahead, a brilliant light had all of a sudden illuminated the space around you. From the heart of this radiant glow emerged the figure of Archangel Raphael, his presence heralded by a chorus of angelical voices and the stirring of celestial winds.

Clad in robes that seemed to shimmer with the intensity of celestial light, Archangel Raphael's presence commanded attention, his wings unfurled behind him in a display of resolute authority. If Goddess Fortuna was intimidating, the archangel was fearsome all the more. His gaze, intense and penetrating, swept over you with a gravity that left no room for evasion or deceit.

“Empress of Caelum,” he spoke, his tone firm and unyielding, and his voice carrying a billion years of heavenly existence, “You stand accused of grievous sins, crimes that have shaken the very foundations of your empire and brought suffering upon your people.”

There was no trace of softness in Archangel Raphael's demeanor, no room for mercy in the face of wrongdoing. His presence was a testament to the uncompromising nature of divine justice, his strictness a reflection of the solemn duty entrusted to him as an Archangel of the Almighty. This, no doubt, was the face of a true and formidable executor of justice.

And you, the subject, had angered the divine beings that guarded the Caelan Empire, so much so that God himself sent the goddess of the land and one of his archangels to mitigate your rightful punishment.

“By the decree of the Almighty, you are granted a second chance to amend your sins and redeem your soul. You shall return to the mortal realm, to live your life anew and correct the sins that have stained your soul.”

“Should you fail to rectify your past transgressions, should you stray from the path of righteousness and succumb once more to the temptations of darkness, know that the consequences shall be severe and eternal.”

“For those who squander the gift of divine mercy shall be cast into the deepest depths of hell, where they shall endure a punishment of unending torment and suffering.”

In the presence of Archangel Raphael and Goddess Fortuna’s equally stern gazes, you were keenly aware of the magnitude of your transgressions and the severity of the judgment that awaited you. But even as you trembled beneath the weight of their scrutiny, you knew that their presence also offered you the opportunity for redemption, with your only task to prove yourself worthy of divine mercy.

Indeed, it was by your very hands that hundreds and thousands of Christian souls shed their blood. Innocent lives, both young and old, were cruelly taken at your command. The citizens of Caelum who fell sick from the spread of the plague. The esteemed Caelan advisors of your husband’s primogenitors, skinned alive and speared in pikes by the Tiber River. The wrongly accused maid who suffered the indignity of serving your husband, paraded unclothed through the streets and subjected to the brutality of the pear of anguish. The gallant and dignified knight, tortured mentally and physically in the atrocious dungeon. Now, you find yourself thrust back into the horrors of your former life ten years hence. A life of a noble lady who ought not to be blinded by her destructive love for the empire’s crown prince. 

Yet, could you truly navigate this life without ascending to the position as his empress?

As you tried to commune with the divine beings afore you, a haze in your vision transported you away from the heavenly space, realizing that you were already drawn back into the reality of your chamber, inhabiting the youthful frame of a twenty-year-old daughter of a duke. You found yourself too astonished to move, too shaken to speak, and too afraid to take any action in this new lease of life blessed upon you. At that very moment, your state of reverie was disrupted at the arrival of your maid, who entered your chamber in a humble servant garb.

Milena. The maid whose life was cut short by your hand in your past existence due to petty thievery. “My lady,” she spoke with a hint of respect and urgency, unaware of the ill-fate you had given her in your past life, “A visitor has arrived at the gates and requests an audience with you. Shall I show them in?” 

Too soon? Need it truly be so soon to engage with the people from your past life immediately after awakening to your old, yet younger body? Gazing upon your maid through the mirror, you asked, “Who is that intruder you speak of?” 

She bowed her head, her stance shifting into one of apologetic deference. The way she firmly stood by your door was a message to you that the intruder was not someone you could easily reject the presence of.

“The visitor is His Highness, Crown Prince Satoru.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

[somewhereincairparavel]

okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.

She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.

She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.

She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.

She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.

The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.

She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.

And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.

But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.

He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.

"Hello, sis."

Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.

Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.

[sofiaruelle]

Elliot and his emotional support crab burning the midnight oil.

[notyourmusebby]

no rizz just brown sparkly loving eyes and a soft smile

[uzurakis]

brainrotting so hard rn thinking of megumi who absolutely refuses to admit his feelings for his best friend but okay so hear me out shikigamis are often reflections of their owner, right?

his shikigami – his demon dogs, nue, escape rabbit etc etc are ALL attached to reader, constantly begging for their attention and being so protective towards reader whenever he brings them out. and reader can't help but feel loved and safe whenever they're around.

because the affection his shikigami has for you is a reflection of megumi's feelings for you <3

n. THIS IS SOOO GOOD and i just HAD to make a drabble out of it. i also feel megs will sometimes be jealous but.. hey.. isn’t that just an extension of HIMSELF? thank you nonnie cause i had fun brainrotting this wit chu <3

under the dappled shade of a tree, you and your bestfriend sat nestled amidst nature's embrace. the gentle rustle of leaves provided a soothing soundtrack to the lazy hour after school as the cool breeze swayed in between. you leaned against the sturdy trunk, the rough bark a comforting support against your back, whilst fushiguro reclined nearby, never not a book on hand, his presence a familiar comfort in the tranquil surroundings. he looked too focused, way too focused right now.

“fushiguro,” you called out whilst biting back a smile, holding up your index finger in a playful gesture. “one favor.”

“no.” came his immediate response, closing off any opportunities as he remain engrossed in his book.

it was a usual thing for you to do, pester him for fun with many favors. you knew that despite his protests, he would always give in to your whims. it was one of the things you adore about him actually, the lengths he’d go to make you feel better.

undeterred, you continued, pouting slightly. "but fushiguroo..."

“no.” he repeated firmly. “your one favor usually turns into a two favor, and a three—“

“i promise it’s only a favor this time!”

a wind brushed his black locks as he peered up from his book, letting out a slight forced sigh as he finally locked his eyes with yours. “just one favor.” he conceded, unable to resist your asks.

the smile of yours finally burst out, and the favor rolled off of your tongue. it was simple this time; you didn't have to use your pleading looks or other tricks to get him agreeing.

“can you summon some of your shikigamis? just wanna play with them.”

fushiguro's expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his initial resistance. he closed his book gently and set it aside, his attention fully on you now.

"alright," he relented, his tone warmer now. "i can do that, only for a short while."

you nodded eagerly, grateful for his concession. fushiguro had a way of understanding your needs even when you were being particularly bothersome. so you wasted no time in joining in the play, laughing and running around with his divine dogs. fushiguro watched with a fondness in his eyes, silently grateful for moments like these.

well, he too had other ideas. he certainly seems to have a knack for stirring up trouble and was definitely intentional. while you were distracted by the dogs swarming about you, he summoned an army of his rabbits—a large number of them—and they all jumped at you at once.

“do you want me to get killed from your rabbits?!” the shout was muffled as his rabbits covered quite every inch of your body. “did you tell them to come at me?!”

no, your bestfriend never ask his shikigamis to come at you the moment he summoned them. fushiguro megumi's shikigamis, his loyal companions, had a mind of their own. he never trained the dogs to nozzle around you, the rabbits to bounce over you, or nue to sit on your shoulder. for that they didn't heed the conventional rules of summoning or obedience; instead, they acted on their instincts, driven by an unspoken directive to protect and be close at all times—fushiguro megumi’s instincts to protect you and be close at all times.

“dunno,” picking up where he left off and submerging back to his pages. “maybe.”

“you’re such a prick!” the words burst forth as you try to get the rabbits off of you.

he watched you from a distance, his heart swelling with affection as you kept playing around with his shikigamis. but he still tried to held back his own smile, a silent observer in the background, content to bask in the warmth of your presence.

yet, as if on cue, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, he could not hide it any longer.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[ninacarstairss]

no i’m not okay inej told jesper he’s family too, he’s the first man who made her feel comfortable again after the menagerie, the only one she can touch and hug like a brother because she knows he’ll always be there to protect her, to love her like a sister, to shield her and understand her whenever this life they’re leading gets too harsh. jesper is family. he’s her brother too