#also that moment where he tells Miles he understands the grief

[fellhellion]

Literally gnawing on that one bit of emotional honesty from Miguel where he hears Gwen helplessly say she has no idea how to fix this - and that’s what shakes him - giving that wry reply about her joining the club

[crxss01]

— Never Felt So Low

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you see miles a month after his dad's funeral.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, comfort, sad miles, grief, mentions death (obvi), sad tía morales.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mija: dear, bonito: handsome/pretty boy. princesa: princess, gracias, muñeca: thanks, doll.

miles had been distant ever since his dad died, you completely understood him (in a way) and the fact that he wanted to be there for his mother. but you also wanted to be there for him, to be able to give him the comfort that he needed.

since he had made no attempts to contact you, you decided that you were just going to his house with no invitation. you would not only fail yourself if you didn't go but you would also fail him because right now he needs all of the support that he can get.

knocking on the door, you waited until it was answered by rio morales, who you liked to refer to as tía morales. the woman looked a mess, which was understandable, her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark bags under them, her nose was red, her hands were shaking and her bottom lip was quivering.

"ohh... tía morales." you walked in, pulling the older woman into a hug.

she held you close and tightly, not tight enough to the point that it was uncomfortable but to the point where you felt the pressure, tía morales did not start to cry instead choosing to just enjoy the comfort you were offering.

you let her hug you for however long she wanted. a couple of seconds or minutes later, you lost track of time, she started to pull away slowly.

"i missed you, mija." she told you, her hands cupping your cheeks and her thumb gently caressing one of them.

"i missed you too, tía." and it was true, the woman was pretty much a mother figure to you.

"go check on our boy, i'm starting to get so worried about him." she shook her head, holding back tears. "he's been suppressing his emotions."

you nodded. "alright, i'll try to help him."

tía morales pointed at his bedroom and you walked to the door, stopping right in front of it and lifting your arm to knock.

“ma, i already told you that i don’t wanna eat anything right now.”

“it’s me, bonito.” you called out softly. “can i come in?”

there was a minute of silence and you were scared that he was about to tell you to leave when he finally spoke. “yes, come in.”

so you did. the moment you saw him sitting down on his bed, head thrown back and staring at the ceiling you felt relieved to see that he was at least looking healthy so far.

“miles…”

your previous thought changed when he turned his head to look at you and your heart broke this time. he looked pale and so tired, you wanted nothing more than to bring back the rich color of his skin and to make the happy look return to his tired eyes.

“hey..” he said with no emotion whatsoever, even his voice had a rough edge to it that you didn’t notice while you were outside his door.

“hey, bonito.” you walked closer to him and sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand in yours.

“i’m sorry, it’s been a while.” he apologized. “i made you feel alone.”

“don’t apologize, i understand.” you shook your head. “but now i want to be here for you and i think it was the other way around, i wasn’t there for you and made you feel like you only had your uncle and mom.”

“i knew i had you too, princesa. i just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“miles, i don’t care about your appearance as long as you look healthy, you know that. you are going through a tough time right now and i want to be here for you.”

miles laid his forehead on yours. “gracias, muñeca.”

“can i stay here with you?” you asked, wanting to spend the night with him in your arms but still not wanting to intrude. it was good enough that he didn’t argue with you about you being in his home, yet you even were willing to spend the whole week with him if it would bring back the tiniest spark back to his eyes.

“yes, you can.” he nodded, raising one hand and softly stroking your cheek with his thumb just like his mother did.

after what seem like hours in the same position, his face had lost part of the tension on it, a calm expression replacing it and it made you feel a little better that you had that effect on him.

“here, mi niño.” tía morales had walked in and was passing two plates of food to you and miles.

“ma, i already—”

“thank you, tía.” you took both plates from her. “we’ll both eat it.”

the woman nodded, a smile on her face before she left the room, closing the door and leaving a 4inch gap.

you turned to miles and put one plate down on his bed and focused on one. lifting a spoonful you blew on the rice and chicken on it before directing the spoon to miles’s lips.

“say ahh.” you told him.

miles looked at you for a second before rolling his eyes and opening his mouth. “ahh.”

you put the spoon inside his mouth, and he gladly chewed the food when you took the spoon out.

grabbing food from the plate on the bed you also ate and closed your eyes at the taste of tía morales’ delicious cooking.

after miles swallowed his mouthful, you took another spoonful from the plate on your hand and lifted the spoon to his lips.

miles once again looked at you for a second but instead of rolling his eyes, he smiled showing the dimples that you loved so much.

his smile was contagious and you couldn’t help but smile as well while you led the spoon inside his mouth.

after you both finished eating you took the plates out to the kitchen and washed them before going back to miles’ room and changing into one of his shirts and shorts then laying next to him on his bed.

“i missed you so much, beautiful girl.” miles said, hugging you close. his head on your chest.

“and i missed you too.” you said truthfully.

miles nodded into your chest and you both stayed quiet for a few minutes. when you felt little droplets of tears falling onto the shirt you were wearing, you didn’t say anything. already knowing how sensitive miles was and how he preferred to cry in silence unless he spoke first.

your hand started going up and down his back, letting him know you were there and he got the message because he hugged you more tightly and sobs were coming out of his throat.

“i just miss him.” he finally spoke, his voice breaking.

this was your queue that you could speak now. “i know, bonito, i know.” you told him. “let it all out.”

“it hurts so much.” more tears started coming out of his eyes.

you needed to use all the strength in you in order to not start crying right then and there along with him instead focusing on being as comforting to him as you could, whispering sweet nothings to him and pulling him close to you.

the night went on like this and you made sure that miles was asleep before you allowed yourself to fall under exhaustion control and also fall asleep.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @miguelslefteyebrow @dxille (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[rwbyrg]

Can we take a moment to appreciate just how well fed we are? Both in canon and beyond?

Oscar said "woah" the moment he first met Ruby.

"Woah. You have... silver eyes". Specifically.

The scene of them sparring at sunset and being goofy about it.

They're the two youngest members of the team, and both of their main allusions are stories about growing up (The Little Prince and Little Red Riding Hood).

Oscar's main allusion is of a character that's in love with a rose. Ruby's last name is Rose, she has a rose emblem, and can turn into rose petals.

They also have shared/parallel allusions from in-universe fairytales (Ex. The Boy Who Fell From The Sky, The Girl Who Fell Through the World, and most notably, The Warrior in the Woods).

The Dojo Scene

Their shared attachments to each other keep being put in focus.

Oscar cared more about Ruby being knocked out than Weiss being impaled at Haven.

Ruby's always watching his back in fights, and he always has hers in group conflict discussions.

Neo, the illusionist character, uses Oscar as both the first and last illusion to torture Ruby; going so far as to make Ruby "kill" him with her own hands. It could have been anyone, but it WASN'T. It was OSCAR.

Meanwhile, Oscar in the V9 epilogue laments to Ruby's "grave" about how he is struggling to hold onto who he is more than ever before. In large part because of the merge, but also because Ruby "always saw people for who they really were", and she's not around anymore to help remind him of who he is.

"You're your own person."

The Almost Hug.

The song that plays leading up to The Almost Hug is one about someone pining for a love they've lost and been separated from across worlds. The song airs a few episodes before Oscar and Ruby are the only "pairing" split up between Remnant and The Ever After. The song itself is called Treasure and Ruby is a type of precious gem, while Oscar's name alludes to gold.

Oscar's last name is Pine. Which, aside from the species of tree, is defined as: "to long or yearn for the return of something; to suffer, typically from a broken heart"(please see points 12 and 15).

They have multiple paralleling arcs and themes around choice, identity, responsibility, leadership, grief, etc.

Their character designs have complimentary colour schemes like other canon ships (red/green and silver/gold).

Sun/Moon ship

"Combat gear looks good."

They also follow the same story beats, separations, and reunions that other canon ships have in show (the meet-cute, the getting-to-know-you, the breakup arc, the distance makes the heart grow fonder trope, the (upcoming) emotional reunion, etc).

The animators, writers, and even voice actors on occasion, engage with fan content or discussions of the ship in a positive manner.

The Official RWBY Twitter Oscars Meme

Miles Luna has said a few times that the ship is cute. He also highlights that their relationship is built on mutual understanding from being in similar circumstances as the youngest kids in the group with too much weight on their shoulders.

Miles also said that in a hypothetical scenario where everyone celebrates Oscar's birthday, Ruby would buy a co-op video game as a present and the two of them would stay up really late playing it together.

Rosegarden won 2nd place in a popular RWBY YouTuber's "Top 10 RWBY Ships" poll as voted by fans after Volume 8 (it would have been third place if Renora and Bumbleby hadn't tied for first).

That one video from Aaron Dismuke, Oscar's VA.

"That kid's got a collapsible staff" -heart eyes emoji-

We've gotten a "Rosegarden Moment" in every Volume premiere since Oscar's debut in V4.

Oscar shouting Ruby's name too many times in the V6 fight against Cordovin.

Maria tells Oscar to "keep that fire fed" after he overhears Ruby talking about food always making her feel better. Then a few episodes later, he suspiciously makes a casserole for the "team" after "they" had a rough day (where he stood up for Ruby when she was looking defeated in a group argument).

Oscar's the only person Ruby opened up to about her grief until the blacksmith. Meanwhile, Ruby's the one who's always assuring Oscar he's his own person despite the merge.

The parallels of Oscar's struggle with the merge and Ruby's ascension in The Ever After.

"I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?" / "What if you could be anyone?"

Characters within the narrative regularly notice how close these two are to each other. Mainly Nora, Weiss, Yang, Cinder and Neo.

Oscar blushed when Ruby touched his shoulder???

THE FUMBLE?!?!?!?

[rhymey-workshop]

Feel free to skip. TW: I'm joining the military.

Growing up is really hard, and I don't think we realize that until we're on the verge of a big change, standing on the border between two parts of your life, balancing on a precipice before you take the swan dive known to many as change.

I'm packing my things. My dad finally brought home boxes and storage tubs and I'm finally packing my things, and that makes the passage of time so much more real.

I'm packing my things. My mom opened the door to tell me to watch my sleeping brother, and said nothing about the fact my room is a mess, or that I was just staring blankly at the cardboard box I just taped the bottom of. That box is ready for my craft books and paint stuff, my origami paper, my reading stand, my books on how to make stuff like children's books and animation. She made no mention of it all, just made that same pinched expression she has for weeks and then schooled her expression into something more neutral as she nodded towards the bedroom where my brother is and after a moment I got up and stumbled in, sitting at the foot of the bed to type out some kind of vent on Tumblr.

I'm packing my things, and I'm stuck between wanting to cry and finding myself unable to cry. I'm leaving home. I've been dreaming of getting out of here off and on since I was 13. At times I had a countdown of years, months, weeks, days that I had to stay, that I had to wait for the day I could finally leave. It made being angry or sad or any other complicated emotion easier. It made hardship easier to cope with. It made it easier to get through the hard times because I knew I could leave and nothing could stop me.

I'm packing my things, slowly, piece by piece, and I'm starting to understand the weight of what my dad said, when he said I was the first person on either side of my family in generations to not run away from home before turning 18. My mom left home at 17, my dad spent more days out of the house than in it as a teenager and left the god damn country. My bio paternal family has these issues too. My maternal family is full of people that ran off, that stayed away from home and didn't look back. My mom only speaks to one sister, and can't speak to her brother as long as their mother is alive. I didn't leave. I finished high school, I got my diploma, I took my time and I didn't leave before I was a legal adult.

I'm packing my things to leave home, and it's hard. It's scary. I've never been away from home for very long, and here I am, getting ready to do something more than just "Move out".

I'm packing my things, putting my life into boxes, sorting what's going to stay, waiting for me to return, what's getting tossed, what's going to get donated or given away. I keep finding things and remembering shit related to them. I keep finding things and remembering who gave them to me. I keep finding things and remembering which parent smiled when I got it.

I'm packing my things, and in a way I'm also processing a kind of grief I didn't know existed.

I'm leaving home for something I thought through for 8 months, and I'm coming up on the one year anniversary since I made my decision. It's been just under two since I signed the dotted line, swore in, and came home to congratulations and a sureness that I'm doing the right thing for me.

In 5 days, I'm going to my last meeting. Getting a send off from a group of people doing the same thing. A couple of them doing the EXACT same thing.

In 9 days, I'll spend the last full 24 hours I've got with my family, eating a fruit tart and playing putt putt. I'll say good night and that'll be the last time I see them for months at the very least.

In 10 days, I'm hiding my key on the porch and walking out the front door while everyone is asleep. They'll wake up and I'll be hundreds of miles away from them. In 10 days, I'm hopping in a big unmarked government van (and this will never not be funny to me) with like 5 other people and we're all doing the same thing. We're going somewhere and we have no idea what is really waiting for us.

In 11 days, I'm not in civilian limbo anymore. As it stands I am subject to the UCMJ but I'm not a sailor yet. In 11 days, I'm a recruit, and that's fucking dizzying to think about.

I'm getting ready to start a new part of my life and it's going to be exciting and new and I'll make friends and I'll go a couple places and I'll have stories to tell my brother and family. I think I'll be better, when all is said and done.

But right now, I'm packing my things into boxes and tubs, and right now, I want to cry.

[sympetali]

Since it seems like CRWBY is heavily hinting at big Ruby and Jaune moments in the episode tomorrow, I thought I’d share this think piece drabble I decided to write in the middle of the day a few weeks ago (haha undiagnosed adhd, am I right?)

Here’s the thing about Ruby and Jaune: I think they have one of the most interesting dynamics in the series.

They meet in the first few episodes, and they’re immediately sort of bonding about being outsiders. They don’t feel like they belong in this space: Ruby is too young and Jaune literally bluffed his way in. Jaune calls Ruby cute (this is not an inherently romantic reading of their relationship,) and sort of hints at romantic interest in her before he sees Weiss and well… we all know how that goes. Ruby thinks Jaune is kind of a dweeb, but in the affectionate “you’re weird, I like you” sort of way. It’s a very light-hearted first conversation. But beyond those surface level introductory interactions, then we have the fact that these two become the most unlikely team leaders. They both become responsible for three other people, and Ruby points that out to Jaune in one of the most prominent moments for him early on. The others being his work with Pyrrha about accepting help and his confrontation with Cardin which is like, the defining moment for him—one where he puts both Ruby and Pyrrha’s advice to work. And that alone could be very telling about how close they are. But it doesn’t end there.

Something I think that makes these two so intrinsically linked is their very specific shared grief. No one else knew Pyrrha was going to die and no one else had to see Pyrrha die. Jaune knew the minute she kissed him and ran off. Ruby, still just a 16 year old kid, had to see it. And suddenly both of them are feeling this heartache in a way no one else can understand. But they can understand each other. We don’t know if Jaune ever even told anyone about that kiss, but we do know he called out desperately to the others about her going to do something reckless (hats off to Miles Luna for that scene because holy cow,) and Ruby was already barreling headfirst into hero mode. Pyrrha’s death will play in a loop in both of their heads for a long time.

Then we have the span of time that volumes 4-6 take place in. Ruby, with no team of her own, sets off with Jaune, Ren, and Nora. They acknowledge that at this point, things are incredibly different and they’re following Ruby. Jaune takes a backseat in terms of direct leadership, but he’s still a unifying voice. He understands Ren and Nora a bit more, and I think we see that in their battles scenes. But still, Jaune so easily follows Ruby. He believes in her. He doesn’t know what it is exactly they can do at the place they’re in, but he’s ready to figure it out with her. He’s going to keep improving and he’s going to keep supporting her. I think that’s really beautiful. Their like, little reunion at the end of Vol 3 is very sweet to me. It reads very much like a ride or die, I will follow you into the dark sort of situation. Everything these characters know has been completely flipped on its head, but all they can think to do is keep pushing on. Keep moving forward. And it’s clear that at this moment in time, Ruby and Jaune need each other to do that. Yes, Jaune has Ren and Nora but he lost his partner. And we know that that loss has him pushing Ren and Nora away for awhile. He doesn’t know how to grieve with them. He’s afraid. Ruby doesn’t have her team anymore at all. Yang is despondent. Blake is missing. Weiss was forced to go home. She leans on the people she knows she still has, but we have to assume she also feels the absence of Pyrrha in that space. Everything in Team RNJR/JNR is kind of fragile. They want to pick up the pieces and do the next right thing, but it’s also very hard to do so when there’s so much they’re not saying or doing.

Ruby and Jaune have excellent little moments of casual intimacy as well. There’s a real softness between them. And again, this is not necessarily a romantic reading of their connection, but it’s not NOT a romantic reading. Jaune’s double down on his belief in her before the fight against the Nukaleve, his determination to keep her safe from Tyrion, even butting heads with Qrow (another dynamic I love to scream about,) Jaune is always just so steadfast in his faith in her. The same way that past all the teasing, Ruby’s faith in Jaune is a huge part of his confidence as a leader. Their reunion in Argus is my favorite moment between them. He is so relieved to see her alive and she just wants that moment to feel good and light so she reminds him she promised they’d see each other there. And he has to smile. And they share this lovely hug that feels so cozy and safe and like something they both needed. There’s so many important relationships and bonds in this story, but I really do think that outside of the main four, this one is imperative to the narrative. It’s one that we as the audience have literally followed since the beginning. Any way you read the relationship, they are so important to each other and their connection is a driving force in their motivations. They make each other better.

But we’ve reached a point now where these two haven’t had a lot of time with each other since they took on their own challenges in Mantle and Atlas. Not to mention the new and unique position they’re in with Jaune having aged rapidly in the Ever After. We have Ruby at her weakest mentally. She’s lost all hope. She’s feeling the weight of everything she’s learned and she’s seen and she’s done, and she’s gonna have to reckon with Jaune’s decision to mercy kill Penny on top of that? Now, I fully believe that Ruby is typically the kind of person that after an emotional initial reaction, she would sort of step back and be introspective. She would offer that understanding to the best of her ability. It would be hard no matter what, but she would see Jaune, Jaune especially actually, for who he is and why he did that and not focus on the action itself. But again, this isn’t Ruby like we know her. This is Ruby already wrecked by grief and on the cusp of just completely giving up. She might really lose it over this, and her and Jaune could have an incredibly difficult moment. Maybe even a division we see follow them for awhile. But I think that would only add to the emotional impact of their relationship. Again, they are sharing a profound grief that cannot be felt by anyone else. Ruby did everything she could to keep Penny around, and she lost her anyway. And Jaune would have never wanted to do what he did but he put Penny’s wishes first, even if that left him in a much worse state. We all love Penny and we understand her naivety in that request, but it’s hard not to at least think about the quiet cruelty of it. We know Jaune agreed because he wanted to do what he thought was best in that moment, but we as the viewer have to try to see it from all angles. He’s the one who has to live with that decision, not anybody else. And he has to know the way that might affect his relationships with other people, particularly Ruby. They are always balancing on these scales, I think. They’re trying so hard to do the right thing and when either one of them makes a misstep, it’s the other that seems to help move the weight. Now we’re in this precarious position where it could be Jaune’s actions that tip Ruby really far down. And that’s fascinating because it’s so easy to sympathize with both sides. We hurt for Ruby’s loss and we hurt for Jaune’s too. He also loved Penny, but there’s all these other layers. He had to take a life, which isn’t something he ever wanted to do, much less an innocent one: one of somebody he cared for. But also— there’s one other person who once ended a version of Penny’s life. Pyrrha. And I know deep in my bones that that thought crossed his mind. Pyrrha is always with Jaune. Literally and figuratively. What is the sword he carries, and killed Penny with, forged from?

This also draws a new and specific thread from Pyrrha to Ruby and Jaune’s relationship. Ruby knew Pyrrha didn’t mean to kill Penny 1.0. I don’t think she ever even thought about that. But again, Ruby isn’t the same person she was the first time she lost her.

Idk. Much to think about. I love Ruby and Jaune so much, individually and together, and I’m very anxious to see what’s in store for them.

[evadethevoid]

We Are Watching a Genocide on Social Media & We Are Scrolling On BY ELENA M. I. DURAN

23 OCT 2023

I saw a dead baby today

While I was sitting on the toilet

When a colleague sees me later and asks how I am

I’ll tell her fine, and I’ll smile.

I saw a dead baby today I saw a dead baby today I saw a dead baby today

The words scratch across the backs of my teeth and pinch at the flesh behind my eyes, emblazoned to my tongue and my mind

“I saw a dead baby today.”

I’ll have to say it out loud, for fear that if I don’t, he’ll be buried inside me forever.

“What?” she’ll ask

“A baby,” I’ll say, “A dead one. I saw him while I was peeing…

He was so, so tiny, and not just because he was a baby, but because he was on my tiny screen

He had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes but no eyes,

no nose

no face at all, really

And not just because he was a baby on my screen, a baby I didn’t know, just another faceless baby

But because where his little mouth and eyes and nose should’ve been, there was only

blood

He didn’t look like the babies I’m used to

His skin was covered in powder and dust and he was too, too

still

He didn’t look like the babies I’m used to because his mother and father spoke in a language I don’t understand,

no not because I don’t speak Arabic

but because the cries of a grief that deep cannot be known by me,

the girl who saw a dead baby that wasn’t hers, on her screen,

while sitting on the toilet.”

“Oh my god,” she’ll say,

“That’s why I just can’t look at the news. It’s too disturbing.”

But me? I can’t look away.

While I walk to my car full of gasoline, sip my fresh iced water, lay on my bed in a house with walls and a ceiling

While I use the toilet

I am refreshing refreshing refreshing

I saw a dead baby today

And I thought to myself -

How fucking irreverent?

How ludicrous?

That I, freshly showered and well fed and safe, am watching parents grieve their murdered, mutilated, utterly perfect baby child

On my screen, from the bathroom?

They deserve better

They deserve not to be mourning at all, and least of all to be mourning with me, a stranger who cannot comprehend their pain through a screen from thousands of miles away,

but who feels some infinitesimal amount of it so deeply in the core of her bones that she cannot look away,

cannot bear to look at the world and smiling faces around her that just keep spinning and spinning

despite the fact that if they just stopped and looked, even just for a moment, even during their snack break or parking lot walk

or while taking a piss, goddammit,

they might also see the Dead Baby, see the mourning parents, see the thousands more just like them

and realize

that the world exists beyond their own line of sight

and what happens to Them is part of Us

and they might realize that they have to STOP poking at their computer keys

and mourn the baby, the Dead one,

who is just on their screen but who is so, so real and not out of reach if we all just came together and rose up to demand that this end…

I saw a dead baby today

And somewhere, on someone else’s screen

They will see him too,

and the headline will read “Well folks, we did it! You might think you are looking at a dead baby here, but no, this is simply a sacrifice in the name of war, and c’mon, not a baby at all really, that right there is a future terrorist for christssake, and we are shouting victory!”

I saw a dead baby today

And across the ocean someone else’s eyes have seen a hundred or more in the last two days alone

They are filling ice cream trucks with dead babies and young fathers and old women

As explosives rain down from the sky and the streets run

with rivers of blood

I saw a dead baby today

From my bathroom window that looks out on a view ten thousand miles away and

they want me to go back to work to pay my taxes

so that more and more blood will be on my hands,

and yours, too.

How is it, that we are checking the news, shaking our heads like “what a shame” and continuing on with our silly, little, meaningless days while the world is ending for someone just like us?

How many dead babies will it take, piled up in Gaza,

before we can pay attention to

nothing else

and beg and fight for it to stop?

I saw a dead baby today

And it was the least I could do

to not look away

To bear witness to unspeakable pain

I’ll never know his name, but I will mourn him just the same

I saw a dead baby from Gaza today

If you saw him too, would you want to fight for change?

[clawbehavior]

not actually a question, but a declaration and a thanks.

I love your stories, Enantiomer is especially my personal favorite! I had a greedy moment after I finished reading chapter 3, write a comment that may or may not seem delirious bcs there were things I think I missed (I forgot which is the older twin from Gaon and Isaac), the small things like that. I decided to immediately reread the whole story and I thought, these 3 chapters are enough!

let me tell you, I always shed tears reading the 2nd chapter. chapter 3 feels like having your prayers answered/ a breeze in a very hot weather. it just feels right and peaceful, hopeful ending. the ending is enough to make me wonder how the characters will fare in the future but i have faith they're in a happy place. it's that kind of story for me.

i will reign my excitement and overflowing feelings for this story of yours as to not scare you off or make you overwhelmed with my responses here and there. thankyou you wonderful human!

i once read this beautiful post by Paulo Cohelo where he described getting a comment from a reader across the world about how touching they found The Alchemist, so he got up and and went outside and looked up at the sky. reading your comment made me understand what he meant by that, what he felt, and why he did it. 

i'm so, so happy that 'enantiomers' touched you deeply. because i also care about them deeply. like you, i felt hurt for yohan in chapter 2 and relief for their growing family in chapter 3. but as you know, being a creator means wondering if your art/story/plot/setting/characterization that you experience so richly when creating them also come across like that to your reader; if someone will be similarly moved by your story as you. and you got it!!! you picked up on all these tiny and crucial details; the differences between the twins, how kang jisang had left an impression on isaac, gahan's hyung kink, that gaon badly wanted to be loved and yohan badly wanted to give it to him. getting your comments made writing that story worth it. 

i totally agree that the fic left off on a hopeful note even if the way forwards seems unclear. strong emotions like theirs take time to fully resolve, no matter how genuine the effort behind it. but i know they get through it. gaon and yohan actively include isaac (and his little family) in their lives. they show up when things get tough, congratulate each other on their wins, push each other gently when needed, and are there for each other. isaac's whole thing with their relationship stemmed from a fear of change and losing yohan. but seeing yohan be healthy and happy and being actively included in their lives settles him. as a result, gaon feels secure too. 

actually, reading your comments made me want to write a version of this story where kim deji is alive, gahan still falls in love, and she lovingly guides everyone through that transition. it starts with gaon waiting for his train on an outdoor platform and watching trains pull in and out of the station. he makes eye contact with a university student through the glass. it shouldn't be anything big except that the young man visibly starts and says something to gaon through the glass. gaon blinks back in confusion, but the train is already pulling out of the station. the young man frantically runs the length of it inside while gaon watches. gaon sees him mouthing the words ishmael and isaac, realizes that this man knows his brother/his family and they share a grief stricken look before the train pulls away completely. 

gaon stays rooted to the platform. he misses his train. but it's worth it because yohan gets down at the next station and runs all the way back to the older man, catching hold of him. gaon can barely make out what the younger man is saying, talking a mile a minute as he is, until yohan pulls out his phone, calls kim deji, and gaon hears his mother's voice for the first time in decades. 

--

a little gift for you for your lovely comments. i will cherish them deeply. thank you. 

[writteninscarlet]

What If? ...Wanda told you she loved you? (accepting) ;; @mastcrmarksman

Clinton Francis Barton would make a lot of Top 10 lists for Wanda. For some, even Top 5.

Most annoying, worst jokes, who’d eaten the most pizza slices/doughnuts/etc from the floor…

He was also up there as a main contender for her favourite Avenger. And that wasn’t something she would be embarrassed to admit. Because quite frankly, Clint was AMAZING. He was quick-witted and though his jokes were badly timed (hilariously badly timed ha ha) and some simply were ‘dad jokes’ he was one of the few that could get her to laugh in a serious situation. Or when her depression hit hard. He was incredibly smart and talented. How he was able to make those trick arrows was beyond her. They required precision and an intimate knowledge, and credit where credit was due. And he kept up incredibly well for an archer amongst witches and Gods. He had the heart of a hero - and the bruises and x-ray scans of a stuntman. He was INCREDIBLE. He didn’t judge her - not for the simple things like being vegetarian or not drinking alcohol recently, or the bigger things and there were a LOT of big mistakes and bad choices in her past.

Clint had been there with her from her not-so-humble beginnings as an Avenger. She had taken her lead from Steve, of course. Steve was good and strong. He was a leader with a leaders confidence and soft charm. A gentleman! And Wanda had fallen for those charms and had often rushed to his defence or agreed with his plans. At the same time, Steve often seemed miles away from her.

He was just TOO good. His nature and his morals… he had his moments of course, but things seemed so black and white to him. Wanda always felt like she had to continually run to catch up with him. Steve had brought her into the fold and made her feel welcome, like family. But there was a gap.

Clint was good, too. But with Clint there came understanding and acceptance. The fact he could annoy her was actually amazing. They just clicked. She enjoyed teasing him in return, and didn’t feel abashed or ashamed about telling him off or a few prank hexes. Sometimes, because of her past and coming from the Brotherhood, she felt she had to hide her gifts or be ‘saintly’ all the time. To remain calm and without anger. Just in case it set someone off or frightened her. But the acceptance with Clint allowed her to be herself. And she loved that. The Scarlet Witch was and always would be part of her. But she felt like she was also just Wanda when around him.

The course of heroic adventures never did run easy or true.

Her actions, spurned on by grief and anger and an instability because of her powers, had massive consequences. Irreparable consequences. Her actions were a mistake and in her right mind not something she would have done - but she was still in her mind and she had made choices. Bad ones.

The pain she’d caused those around her was a scar and weight that wasn’t likely to ever go away. What she had done—- what had happened with Clint— Some may have called it a crazed and she supposed it was somewhat accurate, but she was still Wanda throughout and she’d hurt him, badly. (ended him, erased him, need she go on).

Bad choices simply to plague them. She was a chaos witch but Clint didn’t seem to need magic to lead a chaotic life (and how much was it damage she had caused?)

Past mistakes and choices were never forgotten, but neither were last feelings.

And Clint Barton was HOME.

Her mind had been shattered over and over, her life played with by others - her mind sometimes not even seeming like her own. She was regretful and remorseful and would have done anything to change events, but that was just it. The past was the past. And Wanda had learnt that some things were out of her control.

Therapy was a hard decision to make. It was admitting that there was a problem and that she was weak. But talking did seem to help. The medication helped. But she was off that now. And there were a lot of people out there who didn’t know she’d been in therapy or if they did, didn’t know she’d been on medication. She’d told Clint of course, later down the line whilst on the meds. And she’d told him about her therapists, including the one that turned out to be a criminal trying to take advantage. The therapy helped.

What helped more was HOME. A tentative and easy friendship, and then a stronger connection that they were building between them again. Wanda was glad and relieved to have Clint back in her life. There was no hiding any of her past with him for he had been there for nearly all of it. He knew her weaknesses and her guilt and her shame. He wasn’t a therapist and she had no intention of dumping her issues on him, it wasn’t fair. Not after what she’d done and because he had troubles of his own.

But it was easy to share aspects of her life and new troubles with him. And when he needed to open up, she would listen for him. He was the reason she’d ever played the game Yahtzee, the reason she’d learnt sign language, and a really big reason why she’d been with the Avengers for so long. So when Clint had an issue, Wanda wouldn’t hesitate to reach out and offer help.

It was easy to meet up for coffee or food or shopping or any activity together. So easy to pop around and see him. So easy to hug him and tease him. They had seen one another at some of their absolute lowest points, and Wanda accepted Clint for who he was and who he was trying to be. And she loved everything that he was, flaws and all. He wasn’t perfect like Steve always tried to be. He hid some parts of him but wasn’t afraid of being himself either. No big persona to hide behind around her.

When she had news or it had simply been a while, Wanda knew she could count on Clint. Quick phone call, quick message, and they’d work something out to meet. They had a few decent diners to go to now. And if he had trouble or simply wanted to speak, then Wanda would be there for him. It worked both ways.

He was comfortable to be around, he was easy to talk to, he could make her laugh and relaxed. He could completely stress her out and irritate her, too. When something funny happened or she had gossip, she thought of telling Clint. When she was sad or wanted to feel more energetic, she thought of Clint. She was happy and at home around him. And if that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.

Which… she maybe didn’t know. There was a lot of different ways for people to love one another. Wanda wasn’t sure she really understood love, but she accepted her feelings for what they were.

These thoughts came fairly quickly to her as she listened to Clint describe his latest anecdote, painting the scene of his heroic actions - all, probably, distractions to hide the bruise on his cheek which she could and would heal if asked. But only with consent. Of course.

She scrunched up her nose, slightly amused smile curling up one corner of her lips before taking a sip of her hot tea. Almost finished. And his coffee probably done, too. They’d been talking for some time, after all. The snacks were long gone.

It was simply the two of them in her shop. The Emporium did okay business. She sold a variety of magical objects that only those with knowledge could use, but also things available to everyone. Her main trade was the Last Door of course, so an empty shop didn’t completely bother her (though it might be nice to do good business one day). Sitting comfortably at the table with him, she’d let him go through his anecdotes - jumping in with a question or two, as well as praise but teasing and sincere. And a few scoffs as well. Emphasis some points, that was all. She completely and totally believed he’d done all those stunts. Sure.

With her cup empty, she stood to get more hot drinks but paused as she passed him.

Some feelings deserved to be shared and known. There was no expectation for them to be returned, but some things weren’t meant to be kept inside. Stood by Clint’s side, she placed a hand on his shoulder before leaning in to place a soft, warm kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Clint,” she said, softly and sweetly. Truth warmth in her tone. And she meant those words. There was a lot of ways to love someone, and Wanda probably loved Clint in nearly all of those ways. There would be times she’d be hard pressed to think of someone more important to her. Clint was wild and impulsive, he could be arrogant and sometimes self loathing. But Clint always tried his best and Wanda could see and appreciate that. Clint Barton was a hero in just as many senses of the word as the way she loved him. And he deserved to know that she cared. Straightening up, those words were perhaps clear on her face and in her smile. And if she needed to, she’d repeat them to make sure he heard. He didn’t need to say anything back, he just needed to hear them. “I love you, and I thought I’d just make sure you knew that.”

[precious-little-scoundrel]

In a very non-spoilery way....is there anything that just really haunts Ida Brady after the war? Like something that interferes with her life regularly enough that she has a rough time with it? And how does Rosie navigate that sort of thing, as someone who also understands PTSD?

Whew boy, oomph, non spoilery?

Lemme see, I bet more will come to me later as I develop more of her story but I bet that as much as she didn’t allow herself to think of it at first, she is now quite haunted by the unborn child she lost, buried somewhere in Poland under the ashes of their destroyed combines. There’d been no spare moment of leave taking, nothing at all for her to settle it with herself before she was marching, and oh how she cursed herself for the heartsick over something she tried to not be attached to. It shouldn’t have felt like the robbery and desecration it was, not after every wall she put up about it, but on then March it had dug at her with every mile she put between, until finally the cold and the hunger and the likelihood of her own death clouded the grief.

It’s really not until she’s very settled into domestic peace with Rosie that it rears its head again and she’s horrified by it, probably wondering if it’s vengeful dreams sent by God for wishing harm to it. That may be the first time she even tells Rosie she was ever pregnant. It’s a lot to unwind, and even he has trouble because you can’t reconcile why the innocent suffer so much. You just can’t, but he can remind her of what’s true, of her own blamelessness, the way it couldn’t be prevented.

But perhaps in a more day to day thing, I think that since her assaults in the train car, she really doesn’t do well with interview settings where it’s just her and a bunch of men. Barracks were different although a little unnerving, but an office like setting is too close a mimicry to an interrogation and in some of her post liberation meetings with higher ups/legal teams, she quickly finds that much to her annoyance she fully shuts down in a fight of flight response. She’s unable to focus and all strung up anticipating something she’s in no danger of. Rosie’s presence helps tremendously, as does her entering the room only after it’s been filled so she can get her bearings. She hates to be waiting for them to come, it doesn’t sit well.

[swaps55]

So, a little peek behind the curtain for anyone who might be wondering why the hell it's taking me so long to update Fugue.

I've got roughly 18,000 words drafted of what was supposed to be one chapter that is now two. Getting those words out has been an adventure.

I agonized for about a week on whether I had the right person in the right scene for a character moment, decided I didn't, then rewrote the scene with a different character. Which required giving a LOT of thought to How Does This Character Grieve.

And then I decided the scene was in the wrong place so I moved it. And now have to rewrite it again for reasons that I will elaborate on in #9 & #10

I spent a month trying to block out the right sequence of events for an action scene. I finally did it. And I hated it. It felt wrong, Kaidan was out of character, the tension wasn't high enough, and it missed the overall mark by a mile.

Had probably three rubber duck brainstorm sessions with Real Life Romance Option (RLRO) to solve this problem. Revised the scene. Better, but still didn't believe in it. Said fuck it and just moved on. Maybe the answer will become apparent as I move through the rest.

Revised the scene from #1 again now that I had written the scene mentioned in #3, because #1 theoretically resolves some of the tension in #3. But the tension is still fucked up so this scene still isn't right.

Started blocking out the next round of combat, realized that it was boring from Kaidan's POV (not his fault - the interesting action was just happening where he wasn't), and then decided I need to change it up. Wrestled with that for a few days, because writing from the POV of OCs is always a little bit of a risk and I don't do it lightly. Decided it was important and valuable enough to do it.

Problem is, I have not written this character's POV since Sam died, so I took several days to sit with THAT and figure out what the world looks like through her eyes after his death and how that would help me tell the story I needed to tell. Problem: I still didn't REALLY understand what story I was trying to tell. I knew what the basic sequence of events were, but the character growth hadn't clicked yet.

Wrote the POV, and now, some 13-14k into this part of the story, FINALLY FIGURED OUT WHAT ALL OF THIS IS TRYING TO BE ABOUT. Thank god, now at least I know what I'm trying to accomplish other than Plot.

Realize that I now need to rewrite scene #1 from a totally different POV to create the parallels I'm looking for to move Kaidan along on his grief arc.

This presents a problem, because it puts me in Kara's POV while she is solving an engineering problem, and Kara is much smarter than I am. This meant another brainstorm session with RLRO, who handed me the PERFECT solution to the problem that fixed my character problems, fixed my tension problem, would make it possible for her to be smart without me being smart, etc., BUT, it meant throwing out every single word I'd spent an entire month writing.

Because of this entirely new development, which utterly changes the dynamic I am working with, I have to rewrite #1 AGAIN (which I still have not gotten to because I just finished #10).

I also still have to do first round revisions on the rest of the damn thing, because the back end of these two chapters is really raw and needs some love.

SO THIS IS WHY IT IS TAKING SO LONG. Every time I crown a chapter of Fugue as the most complicated writing I have ever put together, another chapter says, "hold my beer."

Once these are sorted out, I have two more chapters to write plus an epilogue. I think I know what I'm doing for all of it, but because each of these chapters interlink in important ways, what I think I am going to do is just write them before I post anything new. That way, everything will line up right, and once I am ready to post again, I can do it consistently.

I am really hoping I can make some progress over my holiday break (hopefully, but no promises, because I am traveling for part of it).

I am committed to getting this story done, and regret how long it's taking, but trust me, you did not want to read what I had before I figured this out.

Boy this one has been HARD. But I'm almost there. Almost. I'm really happy with the rewrites I just finished. One more big scene to rewrite. Then it's just revisions. I can handle that.

[pooma-bible]

Savita Manwani

Greetings in Jesus name. I welcome all on this platform to hear the word of God and be blessed.

Let us Pray: Gracious Father we come before thy throne in Jesus Name and we thank you for this moment you gave us to hear and learn from your word. Help us to understand your word and be blessed. In Jesus’ Name I pray…Amen.

Topic: The miracle at the gate of Nain

Scripture Text: Luke 7:11-17

The city of Nain lay at the eastern edge of the beauti¬ful valley of Jezreel. Three miles to the north of the city was tree-covered Mount Tabor, and further in the distance was snow-capped Mount Hermon. Nain was about twenty-five miles from the city of Capernaum, where Christ had just been. But, on this particular day, Christ headed to Nain on an errand of mercy and power.

Before Christ arrived, another visitor had already come to Nain and showed his power. The effects were visible in a funeral procession making its way out of the city.

Luke poignantly pictures two crowds meeting just outside the city gate. As Christ was approaching the city followed by “much people,” disciples as well as curious onlookers (v. 11), the funeral procession was leaving on its way to a graveyard outside the city (v. 12). What a contrast between the two groups! Those leaving the city were filled with grief and sorrow, while those coming toward the city were filled with excitement and wonder. A company of death encountered a company of life.

At the head of the funeral procession, men with somber faces carried a bier – a board with narrow sides on which lay the body of a young man. Beside the bier walked the young man’s mother. This woman was no stranger to grief. Luke tells us that she “was a widow” (v. 12).

She must have leaned on this only son after her husband’s death. Yet death, the king of terrors, had struck again, snuffing out his life as well. Never again would she hear his feet coming in the door, home again after working all day to provide a livelihood for both of them. Never again would she enjoy reminiscing with him about his father at the dinner table. He was cut off early in life.

God had created this world without graveyards. But because of sin, death now reigns all over our world (Rom. 5:14). It takes away the old, but it can also take the young, leaving emptiness, loneliness, and grief. Perhaps inwardly this woman felt something like what the psalmist expressed: “I will say unto God my rock, why hast thou forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? Psalm 42:9.

However, she would find that God had not forgotten her. This day of mourning would turn out very differently for this woman than she was anticipating. The Son of God, who had come to meet her just outside the city, would show His power and mercy in her life in an unforgettable way.

I. A Remarkable Command (vs.13)

And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said unto her, Weep not.”

Absorbed in her grief, this woman may not even have noticed the approach of Christ. But He comes to meet her with His Word in her need. This verse anticipates what is going to happen here.

a. Christ the Lord: Clearly, Luke wants to draw attention to Christ’s power. Peter had confessed Him as Lord (5:8), as had the leper (5:12) and the centurion with the sick servant (7:6). Now this widow would come to know Him as the Lord of life and death.

b. Christ’s Compassion: Christ was not only to prove Himself as a powerful King. He was also proving Himself to be a compassionate High Priest, who could be touched with the feeling of this widow’s infirmity (see Heb. 4:15). Christ did not turn away from this sad procession, content to revel in the attention people were giving Him. When He saw her sorrow, His heart was touched by the misery sin had brought into this world. And His heart in heaven is still the same towards needy and miserable sinners.

c. Christ’s command: Before Christ even per¬formed the miracle, He called this widow woman to live in light of it. “Weep not” (v. 13), He told her. This is remarkable; this woman had every reason to weep, and yet He told her not to. Essentially, He was calling this woman to exercise faith in Him as the resurrection and the life.

This is similar to what the Lord does to His people today. It’s not that we may not weep when our family and friends die. Even Christ wept at Lazarus’s grave (John 11:35).

However, when their loved ones die in the Lord, believers are taught not to weep as those who have no hope (1 Thess. 4:13).

The resurrection gospel needs to impinge upon all of our lives. This is what the Lord wanted the woman to know, even before He performed a miracle before her eyes. He anticipated for her the res¬urrection joy that comes when we see His resurrection power at work. The day is coming when God will ��wipe away all tears” from the eyes of His children (Rev. 21:4).

II. A Glorious Conqueror (Vs.14)

“And he came and touched the bier, and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise

In the original language of this passage, Christ only spoke six words – two to the mother, and four to the young man. The most important of the words was the last one: “Arise.” Each time Christ raised someone from the dead, whether it was Jairus’s daughter, Lazarus, or this young man, He spoke, as one commentator says, with“ powerful brevity.”

It is important to notice that Christ raised the young man by speaking to him. To the skeptical onlooker, His words may have sounded ridiculous. It looks like folly to speak to some¬one whose ears death has closed. Yet death can’t keep anyone from responding to the Lord’s voice. As John 5:25 says, “The dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God; and they that hear shall live.”

Christ didn’t draw back from the bier on which the young man lay. The Holy One of Israel could not be rendered unclean by touching the bier. Instead, death was forced to retreat in the face of Him, who would hold the keys of death and hell through His death and resurrection (Rev. 1:18).

Thus this widow discovered that she could safely trust in the Lord of the widows (Jer. 49:11). Christ added to the miracle this tender touch: “He delivered him to his mother” (v. 15). He scooped the young man up in His arms and gave him to his mother again. He had been a gift from the Lord when she had received him from the Lord at his birth. Now she received him a second time, as evidence of the Savior’s power and compassion.

We read: “And he that was dead ... began to speak” (v. 15). No longer would the widow’s home be morbidly still; resurrec¬tion speech would fill her dwelling. The day that had begun with such misery and sadness turned into such gladness and rejoicing. That’s what Christ’s grace and power do.

The conquering Lord had driven away death from the young man, darkness from this widow’s life, and despair from those who lie in the shadow of death. One of those people was John the Baptist, who was imprisoned in the dungeon of Herod (see Luke 7:18-19).

Somehow, through God’s providence, this miracle reached into the prison cell of John. He would soon lose his life through the cruelty of Herodias and the cowardice of Herod. What a comfort it could have been for John to hear the tidings of Him who was the resurrection and the life.

Many others heard the reports that emerged from this miracle. The whole of this valley region was abuzz with the truth that “God hath visited his people” (7:16). The truth of Psalm 89:12 was fulfilled: “Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in thy name.”

Life Lessons

1. The life-giving word of Christ is a message of hope in a world of despair.

2. The hope comes through His grace and compassion and His word.

3. Compassion is an indispensable characteristic of Jesus. He will do anything to help us, even if it means a loss to him.

4. Even though we may not have the supernatural gift of raising the dead, however, we can in various ways, like Jesus bring joy to the lives of many helpless persons, especially those that are desperately waiting for others to alleviate their feelings.

5. Those widows in today’s world are undergoing utter inhuman treatments need someone, like Jesus, to whisper them unconditionally and with compassion, “Do not weep”.

6. God’s love is unconditional; no one merits his love for it is a free gift to all, especially those who are most in need of it. E.g. a widowed mother, the man wounded by robbers, and a son who has squandered his father’s property.

PRAYER

Father, thank you for the compassion we see displayed so spontaneously in Jesus. We are so glad that you are full to overflowing with such compassion. Increase our faith in your love and compassion. And help us to be filled with your compassion also. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen.

[moemammon]

Hi there! I finally snapped and walked out of my shitty job after being there for almost 3 years, so could I please request the brothers reacting to the MC finally quitting their horrible job that they've been encouraging them to for months? Thank you!!! <3

Congrats on Quitting! (Feat. the Demon Bros)

(There's nothing like the sweet sweet release of leaving a shitty job, but it ain't an easy task. Good for you! 😤💪)

Lucifer

He's seen the way your job has been affecting you. The weary look in your eyes, the way your joints constantly ache, the dread on your face when you'd soon have to go into work. Trust him, he knows the feeling all too well.

Naturally he tried giving you that push to leave, but he knew he couldn't make the decision for you (as much as he wanted to). He’d just have to wait until you made the move yourself.

So when you DID? Oh, he was so relieved. He never doubted that you had it in you. Extremely proud of you for taking that leap of faith, and he won't let you regret it.

You're 👏 getting 👏 spoiled 👏

"Where would you like to have dinner? I'll make reservations at once." "...Why are you giving me that look? Obviously this calls for celebration. I won't be taking no for an answer."

Mammon

Even Mr. Money Bags himself knows that no amount of money is worth suffering over (uh, at least not suffering for three years straight)

He's been bugging you to quit for forever now. "If it's money ya need, I can introduce ya to way better jobs! There's this guy I know that can set ya up with something real nice-"

When you announce you've finally quit, he literally sweeps you off your feet and shouts for joy. Fucking FINALLY! He was getting worried, always seeing that gloomy look on your face.

And now? You're not gonna be spending much money. He's spending for you, buying whatever you need (and everything you don't need). You're unemployed, so let him spoil you!

"Nuh uh! Don't even THINK about bringin' your wallet with ya! Didn't I say I'd be payin' today?? Just worry about relaxing a little, and let The Great Mammon take care of everything' else!"

Levi

Working irl was never something that interested Levi, unless he was doing volunteer stuff at concerts and conventions. But seeing what you're going through? Yeah, that's exactly why he stays home.

He's tried to ease your nerves by inviting you over for games and tv, but there's only so much that Ruri-chan can do for an overworked human.

So the moment you announced leaving your dead-end job, he was over the moon! This obviously calls for a movie marathon night! He's got plenty of recommendations, but it's probably best if you pick, right?

Trying his best not to overwhelm you with his excitement, but he can't wait to start spending more time with you!

"Seriously? You finally quit?! That's... that's great! That means you'll be home all the time, and-! Er... if you wanna come over, my door's always open for you!"

Satan

Literally told you right away that you should quit. He's not so oblivious that he doesn't notice how you're being exploited.

You're a hard worker, and your worth was being taken advantage of. Why would he want to sit around and watch you wither away? It annoyed him to no end.

So he did all he could to convince you to leave, suggesting alternative career paths, mentioning he could help you find something, but only you could make that important decision.

And BOY was he thrilled when you decided to leave. He congratulated you immediately, then proceeded to let out every insult aimed toward your job that he’d been holding in this entire time.

"They weren't good enough for you, so I'm glad you've finally realized that. If you want, I could leave them with a 'parting gift' to show them just how much you loved your job? I can even whip up something special for your boss."

Asmo

All the days you had to suffer working at a place like that.. You always looked HAGGARD coming home, and he hated it!

But now that you've quit working at that terrible place? Asmo's gonna make up ever single day that you could've spent pampering yourself. Also tried convincing you to start an OnlyFans-

He'll make sure you're so relaxed and cared for, you'll completely forget about all the grief your job put you through. Work? Who's she??

Massages your shoulders while you tell him stories of all the shitty customers and coworkers you've had to deal with. Spill the tea, hun. Speaking of tea, do you want him to top off your glass for you?

"Ive been worried sick about you, you know! Instead of working, you ought to just stay home with me instead! I know plenty of ways to make money without having to leave the house, after all~"

Beel

He always tried making sure you ate well before you left for work, but it didn't seem to be enough to keep you from being worn out when you got back.

He even tried suggesting that you workout with him to relieve stress. But after a hard day at work, it's understandable that you didn't want to move much.

Beel wasn't the type to outright urge you to quit, since it's nice to have a way to earn money, but after seeing the metal toll it was taking....

He couldn't have been happier when you announced you'd finally quit. Like Lucifer, he immediately wants to celebrate! This calls for eating until you're about to burst! Do you want Madam Scream's? He'll get you a lifetime supply of blackberry cheesecake, too!

"Since you're finally free from that place, we'll be able to spend more time together. It's been lonely, not seeing you as often. The food tastes better when I enjoy it with you, so let's eat together from now on, okay?"

Belphie

Sometimes, you were such a hard worker that it exhausted Belphie to even look at you. But he knew you were only human, and your stamina wasn't as limitless as you tried to make it out to be.

You were growing weary, both physically and mentally, and he could tell from a mile away. Was it really worth all this hassle just to make a buck or two?

He certainly didn't think so, and tried to get you to see it from his point of view. Just find something easier to do that wouldn't wear you out, you know? Or be unemployed. You know his brothers won't let you stay broke-

You tell him that you've finally quit, and Belphie can't help but smile. He won't admit that he was getting worried for your health, but you can tell from the way his expression relaxes.

"The hard worker had finally joined the lazy side, huh? That means you'll be able to make up for all the lost sleep, and I think we should get started right away. No objections, no objections. Come here." ".....I missed holding you like this."

[charliedawn]

How would they react if you ask them to dance?

Freddy :

"Heck yeah !"

Freddy is one of the only slasher that is musically cultured. He can spot good hard rock from a mile away. He is a rock and roll fan to the end. Just, put on any hard rock song and you will see his eyes literally sparkle in delight. He would dance with you until the end of the night. Literally.

" Come on darling, let me turn your world upside down !"

He would pretend having a guitar in his hands and laugh while shaking his head up and down with the rhythm. In rare moments, he would actually forget where he is and start singing with the lyrics.

"~She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry..."

Surprisingly, Freddy has a great voice and, when given the opportunity, will make the slashers enjoy a live concert of his. In those moments, not even Pennywise dares make fun of Freddy. Freddy understands your love for old music, and god, does he got the moves ! You swear that when he is dancing, you forget all about who he is and who you are. If you weren't dancing before, you certainly are now. 😂

Surprisingly enough, Arthur would not join right away. He would first see you dance and enjoy himself watching you having fun with the other slashers. But once he is sure that nobody will judge him ? He will join and dance to his heart content. Many people have ways to express themselves, hobbies that help them de-stress..But unfortunately for the slashers, that hobby was mostly killing people. You try to make them see that they can do the same in many different ways. Joker, however, is a very special case, because he actually tried to escape with dance and jokes..People destroyed his dreams. Now, you have to help him get back his hope and the dreams he lost. The first step to do that ? Make him remember what he loved, before becoming the Joker.

" Why do you want to make me believe in something that is gone ?"

" Because I believe in you, Arthur."

He waited for someone to actually believe in him for so long that he can't help but cry at your words. He would then take you for a dance and make you laugh for the rest of the night. He doesn't mind you old-fashioned taste, as he prefers old songs as well, especially the catchy ones.

" Dance ?! Dancing ! Yesss !"

Penny screams while throwing his hands in the air. He loves dancing. It was the only thing he had when he was alone and penniless. He was dancing in the street in his old clown costume, hoping for some generous souls to find him entertaining. However, when he became Penny, his dance became the last thread of his old life he hanged on to. It may have been a way to lure his victims in as well, but it was also much more for Penny. He loves dancing. He is also very good at it, being a very flexible person with a great creativity. His dance may look childish at first, but it's only because he never got the proper training. You asked the hospital to give him some lessons, but unfortunately, they didn't want the dance teacher to become dinner. This is how you had gotten the idea of Friday's dancing nights. It allows the bond between the slashers to strengthen and for Penny to learn more about what he loves.

" Penny dances ! Penny is so happy !"

Well, just make sure he has the dance floor to himself, as you wouldn't want any of the slashers to receive a slap or a kick on accident..He doesn't really care about the music, as long as he can dance on it.

Dance ? What is dance ? When he sees you and the other slashers dance, it makes him think of those teenagers at Crystal lake. He is not too fond of dancing. He will however stare at you and sometimes, even nod his head up and down with the music if he likes it. But, if you try to make him dance with the others ? He will freeze. He is not used to dancing and never cared enough to learn. For a long time, it had only been his mother and him, therefore he hasn't had the chance to make friends or open up enough to dance at parties. He likes watching though. Most of the time, he will stay with Five or Michael, the only ones to understand his predicament. Plus, he doesn't know or understand most of the songs you're playing. He tried to ask you what they meant, but most of the words you used to answer him only made him more confused. Love ? Hope ? Loss ? He doesn't understand them. However, he does understand grief and sorrow. Those are feeling he can relate with as he felt them when he lost his father. When a sad song comes in, he will pay more attention and feel a tug in his chest.

" My boy. You have to live your life as you intended. Don't let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn't feel. One day, the ones who bullied you and called you names will see how amazing you truly are."

The words of his father echo in his head as he listens to the music. He has nearly forgotten about his face, but his voice is still with him, advising him wherever he goes. He just never took the time to listen to him until now. He always thought that his mother was everything he needed, that she was the only one who loved him, but maybe was he wrong after all ? Maybe other people could accept him ?

*internal panic*

He knows how to dance, that's not the problem. It's just that it's been so long that he's afraid he's gotten a bit rusty. This is why you will most likely find him hidden in a corner, watching over you all. At this point, he is more likely to play the role of the quiet big brother who is making sure none of his siblings accidently hurt themselves or have too much to drink. However, if you really insist, he will try to enter the game and make a few tentative steps on the dance floor. But, dont expect too much of him. He is embarrassed enough as it is. However, he will help in the kitchen if you need to bake something of prepare some snacks for the slashers. Another thing to know about Michael, is that unlike Jason that doesn't mind raising his mask a little to eat or drink, Michael will prefer to wait until everybody is gone or asleep before letting himself do the same. He is very keen on his mask and doesn't want anyone to see him without it. So, maybe prepare a little space away from prying eyes for him to have intimacy ? As for the music, he doesn't mind. Everything is fine with him.

Unlike Penny, Pennywise is not that much of a dancer. Penny is a dancing clown, Pennywise is a grouchy clown. He would rather be sarcastic all evening than partaking in the fun. However, something that he is good at is inflating balloons. He will help organize the party and will try to entertain Penny as much as he can. Pennywise may not be a dancing clown, but he cares about Penny. Penny is the closest to family he has left, and even though he would never admit it, he would do anything for him. He is protective of him and if it meant making Penny happy ? He wouldn't mind playing the clown for a night.

" Stop looking at me like that. I'm not gonna dance. You can't make me. Invite Penny instead. He's far more excited to make a fool of himself than me.."

He would reply when you invite him to dance. He doesn't care about the songs, as long as they don't have any curses in them. He loves cursing, but he doesn't want Penny to follow his example. He wants him to keep the little innocence he has left.

(couldn't find a gif with Five, so imagine it's Five in the second gif.)

He will not dance. Not even if you beg him. He will be happy if you leave him alone with the drinks. He will mostly stay with Michael and drown his bad mood in alcool and most likely complain.

"Goddammit. Can't we have decent whiskey in here ?!"

However, if you really insist and he has enough alcool in his system ? He may follow you and make some moves on the dance floor. Maybe.

" I swear you all suck. It seems I'll have to step up to level the game. It's not because I'm having fun or I like any of you, it's just because you bunch of idiots can't differentiate good dancing and monkey dancing."

Five got many classes on how to be the perfect spy while being trained. Let's say that there were some more enjoyable classes than others. He knows how to dance as a result and will steal the dancefloor when given the chance.

[mckennamayfairgoode]

Show Me the Foothold From Which I Can Climb [Part One]

Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Request: i saw that your requests were open and i wanted to ask if you could do something for billie x reader, i LOVED your other one. -requested by anon

Warnings: Nothing yet, except minor character death, but it will get VERY heavy later on. (Future TW include: addiction, alcoholism, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts.)

A/N: I’ve spent too long working on this, so I decided to break it up into parts and post it instead of going back over the same scenes again and again. I’m not sure how many parts it will be. Probably three or four. A big thank you to @lucyintheskywithxanax​ as usual for being my plastic duck. You are The Best (no, really, you are). ❤

Song: Mountain at My Gates by FOALS. Also mentioned is I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers.

“Let’s take five minutes, okay? Sorry, everyone, they’re being stubborn today.” Billie smiles apologetically at the camera crew and the sight of it alone is enough to ease the mounting frustration in the room. Shoulders relax and tension melts away as if the atmosphere hadn’t been stifling just moments before. You call it ‘The Billie Effect.’

“Five minutes and we’ll try again,” the director agrees, giving the crew the go-ahead to take a break. There’s a spattering of pleased murmurs before everyone uses the opportunity to disperse around the house or go outside for some fresh air.

You adjust the camera on your shoulder and watch as the director walks up to Billie, his hands moving in animated gestures as he speaks. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can imagine. The long day has not made him any more pleasant to be around. The smile on Billie’s lips is charming as she attempts to sooth his ruffled feathers. It only takes a moment, one hand resting on his shoulder to make the interaction seem more intimate than it is, before he turns away from her with a satisfied expression that makes something inside you tug unpleasantly. Once he turns away from her, Billie’s bright expression falls and her brows pinch together. 

You wait for him to walk away before easing up to her side, eyeing his back as the distance between you grows. “Was he giving you trouble?”

“He’s the director of the show, Y/N,” she points out and when you turn to her, you see that her smile has returned, beautiful and real and just for you. Your heart seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

You shrug the shoulder not currently occupied by a camera. “Yeah, well, without you there wouldn’t be a show,” you remind her, annoyance clear in your tone.

Billie laughs, low and husky. “Easy, tiger.” She wraps a hand around your bicep and runs her thumb along the edge of your shirt sleeve, barely dancing across your bare skin and shooting tingles up your spine.  “Everyone has their part to play, even him.”

You roll your eyes. “It’d be easier if he played his part somewhere else,” you mutter.

She grins, her big brown eyes dancing with amusement. You watch that familiar teasing glint bleed into them like wine stains into a beige carpet.  “Careful there, sweetheart. I’m starting to get the impression that you care about me.”

“And I’m starting to get the impression that you want me to care about you,” you retort playfully, watching the pleased smile morph her beautiful face into something soft and sweet. No one gets to see her like this. No one but you. That smile only lasts a second before her shoulders tense, just barely, just enough for you to notice. Her gaze flicks to the side. You’ve been around long enough to know that she’s feeling or seeing something you can’t. Your voice softens into a soothing tone. “Everything okay, pretty woman?” 

Billie startles, her grip tightening on your arm as she steadies herself before she flashes you a comforting smile. “Just fine, sweetheart.” She raises a slender hand and with one long acrylic nail extended, points to a spot in front of you both. “I can feel them right here, but they won’t come out.”

You both look at the space like your combined staring power will overwhelm the spirits and force them to reveal themselves. You don’t realize how close you’ve drifted to one another until you go to nudge her shoulder with your own. “They will,” you say. 

The darkness in her eyes eases at the conviction in your tone. She raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” she asks. “We’ve been here for eight hours and have nothing to show for it.”

You resist the urge to move a wayward curl back behind her ear.  “You’re Billie Dean Howard. No one can resist you.”

Her smile turns sly. “Not even you?”

You turn to face her and feel your heart stutter. She’s already looking at you, her eyes warm and tender. “Not even me,” you finally say, your tone leaving no doubt that you are dead serious. The space between you is so small your noses would brush if you tipped forward. There’s a split second where you think you might kiss her. If you weren’t in the middle of a haunted house surrounded by your coworkers, if you were alone, and if she was looking at you like she is right now, maybe you would lean in and wipe that sly smile from her face with your lips. 

“You ready, Billie?” A masculine voice startles you both out of the moment causing you to jerk away and take a step back from each other. Billie is elegant and composed as usual, but your heart thunders in your chest like you are a storm splitting open the sky. You glance at her lips. Had she been leaning in too? 

Billie gives the director a nod before turning back to you. The intensity hasn’t left her eyes. You search them for a moment, find the sincerity there and anchor to it with your heart. A slow grin spreads across your face and you nod to the starting marker on the floor. “Come on, pretty woman. I promise to get your good angle.”

She scoffs, an amused expression lighting up her face. “You always get my good angle.”

“It’s not the only thing I plan on getting,” you flirt. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll prove it to you later.”

Billie laughs and tosses her wavy curls back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweet thing,” she purrs, trailing her fingertips along your shoulders as she passes behind you.

You watch her go and know your expression must be lovestruck. Her presence always makes you feel weightless, a bird’s wayward feather in free fall. You think you might be able to float to the ceiling if you tried.

“You don’t really believe in this bullshit, do you?” a voice asks over your shoulder. You glance behind you to see your new assistant standing there looking perplexed and bored.

You raise an eyebrow, shifting the camera on your shoulder. “Why are you working here if you don’t believe it?”

He shrugs, following you to the mark and standing behind you. “Needed the experience,” he says simply.

You look into the viewfinder, adjusting the angle and shuffling until the sunlight streaming in from the living room window carves highlights into Billie’s cheekbones. She looks like a marble sculpture, like she belongs in the Louvre and not this haunted house in southern California, like she will be cemented in time, beautiful and endless. “Stick around,” you tell him. You pull back, look over the top of the camera, and lock eyes with Billie from across the room. “She’ll get them to show. She always does.” 

--

“Holy shit.” Your assistant's voice comes out in a breathy whisper, barely audible over the rattling sound of wheels rolling along the pavement.

You grin but resist the urge to snicker, because you’ve been there before. Skeptical and unsure, drawn to Billie of course, in awe of her smile, but not a believer in anything you couldn’t physically see. Then she had brought a derelict house to life with light that was not natural and shadows that liked to play pretend and you had watched her speak to someone whose presence you couldn’t even feel. That moment had changed you. 

Once upon a time, you had been so very small and fearful of the things you did not understand. Locked in your castle and warned away from the room at the end of the hall, you were protected, but sheltered, and your world had been so very small along with you. Until one day, you met a princess with golden hair and big brown eyes, who was kind and good and could see things you could not. 

The princess had taken you by the hand and led you to the end of the hall where she cracked the door open so that you could take a peek into the room you were not allowed in. Inside that room was a darkness and in that darkness was a glimmer of something bigger than you. You’d tugged at her hand to ward her away from the things you feared, but she stood tall and faced the darkness head on.

“Don’t be scared,” she’d said. The princess turned on a light - you think it came from within her - and the darkness shrank back, twisting into shadows that held out their spindly arms but could not reach you no matter how hard they tried. She looked at you and she smiled. “I won’t let them hurt you,” she promised and you believed her. You were a mountain and you were not afraid of anything. 

“You’ll get used to it,” you say, reaching the studio van and gesturing for him to help you load the equipment cases inside. 

He doesn’t look like he believes you. In fact, he looks like he might lose his lunch right there on the sidewalk. He wouldn’t be the first who couldn’t handle a glimpse of the other side. Ignoring it won’t make it go away, but you don’t say that. Instead, you latch the doors behind you, bid him goodnight, and meander down the sidewalk in the direction of your car. 

You watch the van’s tail lights disappear around the bend for only a moment before Billie’s soul inevitably calls to yours and you turn to look for her. She’s still standing on the front porch speaking with the homeowners. Not surprising. Billie hates to leave a job half finished. She nods her head empathetically, places a hand on the man’s arm, and says something charming no doubt. The couple laughs in response, just as you knew they would. No one can resist Billie Dean Howard. You lean back against the hood of your car, tuck your hands into your pockets, and wait.

It doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, she struts toward you like she’s on the red carpet and not a cracked, chalk-covered sidewalk in the middle of the suburbs. Your heart flounders in your chest like a fish on the deck of a boat and you wonder if you will always be this helpless when faced with her presence. “Hey, pretty woman.” You nod to the road behind you. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“And where would you be taking me on a Friday night?” Even across the distance, you can see the mischievousness in her expression. Billie loves to play games, and you are more than happy to indulge her.  

You reach in your pocket for your keys, absentmindedly playing with them as you grin. “Sorry, I can’t tell you that. Try again.”

Billie slows to a stop in front of you and tilts her head, eyeing you with a barely concealed smile. She tries to look stern but the glitter in her eyes betrays her. “What are you up to, Y/N?”  

You shrug. “I’m just keeping my promises,” you say simply. You reach over and open the passenger door for her with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”

--

“We’re here,” you announce, stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind you. 

Billie follows you at a leisurely pace, her head turning this way and that as she takes in your surroundings. She looks out of place up here, like a beautiful porcelain doll left in the middle of the woods. She is your diamond in the rough, your supernova in an empty sky. She burns. You wonder if it’s for you.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes?” you respond, already knowing the question that will leave her lips.

“Why have you brought me to a cliff?”

You laugh and hold out your hand. “Do you trust me?” you ask, serious despite the light tone to your voice.

Billie does not hesitate. She sets her well manicured hand in yours, looks you in the eyes, and says, “Always.”

You have to swallow the lump in your throat to respond. “Good, because I was going to drive us both off the cliff, but there’s a concrete barrier in the way. We’ll have to go on foot and just jump off instead.”

She chuckles, low and throaty in just the way that makes your spine shiver. “Oh, darling. I’m going to need some incentives if you’re going to make me do all that in these shoes.”

You smirk and, mindful of her expensive heels, begin leading her down the smoothest path to the cliffside. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“I’m sure you can,” she purrs. Her hand in yours is soft and warm. You have held hands before. Large hands, small hands, the hands of those you love and hands from a distant past that you haven’t held for a very long time but still remember. There had been fingers wrapped around a thumb bigger than yours, hands clasped palm to palm as your brother helped you cross the street, pinkies interlocked to cement promises that would surpass time and age, fingertips pressed together beneath the table in the library with the girl who always laughed at your jokes. They were not like this. Holding this hand felt like coming home. Like you were meant to hold it. Like you have held it before.

As you near the aforementioned barrier, you turn to her with an impish smile. “Close your eyes,” you say.

Billie quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t usually do that on the first date.”

Your heart jumps, excited, happy, hopeful. “You let me bring you to a cliff on our first date?” you ask, playfully appalled.

Her smile grows fond. “It’s starting to grow on me.”

You bite your lip to quell the grin forming and tug at her hand. “Come on, the incentive lies in what will happen after you close them.”

“Well, how can I resist when you put it like that?” she teases, shutting her eyes and trusting you to guide her the rest of the way. You do, one careful step at a time, until you are near the edge. You look out over the view and feel your soul untangle itself from your heart, but it does not leave, not yet. It wants to be free, but it doesn’t want to go alone. 

You glance back at her, just a moment, maybe just to check that she’s real and not a vision that lives in your head. “You can open them now.”

She does. 

From a bluff overlooking the city, you watch as the sun sets, a jeweled crown that settles itself on the head of a skyscraper, radiant and eternal. Just for her. For the princess in your fairy tale. Almost as if you had willed it into existence all by yourself, lights start appearing in the city. Streetlamps, headlights, lights from offices and businesses and apartments; all of them blink on, one tiny speck at a time, until the whole of Los Angeles is alight with stars of their own making.

You don’t say anything and neither does she. You don’t need to. Billie’s fingers slide between your own, more intimate than any night you’ve spent in bed with another woman, and she squeezes. Just once. Your soul follows the invisible thread between your hearts and entangles itself with hers. They float away together like flower petals on a summer breeze.

You turn to her as she looks off into the horizon. Your eyes follow the shape of her face, from her forehead to the gentle slope of her nose, the curves of her mouth to the jut of her chin, and you wish you were tracing it with your fingertip instead. The setting sun casts a glow to her hair turning it different shades of molten gold and pink and you think you have never seen a more beautiful sight.

When she turns to face you, your eyes meet and your noses touch, much like they almost had earlier that day. Only this time there is nothing stopping you from closing the distance. Your breath hitches, your heart thunders, you are a feather in free fall, but you will not be afraid. Billie would never hurt you. Not your protector, your safety, your light.

You tangle your free hand into her hair and pull her close enough to brush your mouth against hers. It’s soft and tender, flowers grazing in a moonlit meadow, the gentle fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, the ocean lapping against the sand on a lazy, summer night. 

Her other hand reaches for your cheek, pulling you closer. You melt against her, breathe her in, think maybe this is what happiness is, maybe this is what eternity would feel like as long as you are with her. She sighs into your mouth like she has been waiting for this moment as long as you have. Your soul ignites as her nails graze your cheek, gentle and revering, like you are precious, like you are important, like you are the flower petal that may float away.  Maybe you fell in love with her then. Maybe you have been in love with her all this time.

--

“Hello?”

“Hi there, sweet thing. Where are you?” Your tired ears perk up at the sound of Billie’s voice, a smile lighting up your face as if it had been waiting just for her. 

“Hi, baby. I’m at the studio going over the footage from yesterday. Are you still at the interview?” You glance out of the nearby window. Night has already fallen and rain pelts against the glass like a swarm of angry bees. “It’s late.”

“It ran over by two hours,” she explains, her voice tight and clipped. 

You furrow your brows. “You don’t sound happy about that. Did it not go well?”

You hear the flick of a lighter. “If you call four hours of talking in circles ‘well’ then one would say it went perfectly fine.” She sighs. “Maybe I was just impatient.” 

“For what?”

“For you.” Your breath catches in your throat. You almost trip going down the stairs but manage to catch yourself in time. “Y/N?” 

“I’m here,” you manage to say. 

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I’d like to see you tonight. What do you think?”

Heartbeat thudding in your ears, you finally reach the main lobby and come to a stop in front of the studio doors. Thunder rumbles through the building, shaking the glass and seeming to bounce off empty corners to echo back at you. You can barely see the street behind the sheets of rain. Maybe Hell has finally frozen over and Los Angeles is in the midst of a hurricane. “I’m thinking it’s the perfect night for a movie and takeout,” you say once you’ve gained control of your vocal chords.

Billie exhales. The sound of it wavers; she’s smiling. “My place is closer; is that alright with you?”

“Yes, of course,” you respond and hope you don’t sound too eager. Even though you are. Even though all you want is to see her look at you with that exasperated fondness that makes your heart melt. You want her to push you away, to laugh, to pull you right back in before she kisses you senseless. You just want to be home.

“Good,” she pauses and you can picture that fond expression in your head as clearly as if it were right in front of you. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, trying and failing to soothe your expression into something calm and collected. “See you soon, pretty woman.” You don’t even bother putting on your jacket before dashing outside into the torrential downpour.

--

Traffic in Los Angeles is always congested at best no matter where you go. Cars, taxis, and buses stay bumper to bumper until you get further away from the city and closer to Billie’s suburbs. The rain makes it hard to see the road, let alone other cars, so you keep your hands tightly gripped around the wheel and maintain a steady pace as you follow the bright yellow shape of the taxi in front of you.

Even with the storm raging around you, you feel invincible, like nothing can touch you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, lightning cracks the air, and rain pelts the roof of your car like lead bullets, but you don’t hear any of it. Your mind is a paradise and it is so quiet. Your thumbs tap rhythmically against the steering wheel as you sing along to the song on the radio.

“But I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more-”

You let the music sweep its way into your very being, washing over you and bringing with it a sense of peace. It makes you think of Billie and you realize you’re never not thinking of Billie, not anymore, not since she planted herself in your earth and lit up your night sky with a blazing sun. It feels like she has intertwined herself so closely to you, to your heart, to your soul, to your spirit, that you are no longer sure where she ends and you begin.

Captivated by her smile, enraptured by her kind heart, drawn to the passion that runs through her veins in lieu of blood, lovesick, lovestruck, love, love, love. Every little memory you make with her anew blinks on like a star in a sunset painted cityscape and you want to point your finger in its direction and tell her the tale of how a princess - with light embedded in her soul - saved you from your castle.

You’re thinking about her still when you notice the taxi peel off into the next lane. You don’t see him until it’s too late. 

A boy on a bike.

He darts in front of you out of nowhere or maybe he had been there the whole time and you just couldn’t see him in the rain. You see him now. Time slows down to a crawl - or maybe it never slowed at all; maybe you have been on the other side all along. 

He’s wearing a blue jacket. You notice it as your foot slams on the breaks, as you twist the steering wheel to the side in an attempt to swerve around him, as your car’s tires screech and slip against the rain-soaked street. It’s navy blue. You hear the sickening thump it makes when you hit him, feel the car jerk as you crash into a utility pole and the airbag knocks you in the face hard enough to make you black out for a second. Maybe two. You’re not sure. All you know is that when you finally summon the strength to open your eyes again, you’re assaulted by the smell of chemicals from the deployed airbag that burn your nostrils when you breathe. Your body aches from where you slammed against the seat belt on impact, your face, your chest - your heart, you think - but you can barely feel it. You are numb.

You blink rapidly to clear the dark spots from your vision, but all it does is serve to make you dizzy. Your head spins, feeling much like the inside of a snow globe after it’s been shaken up by an overeager child. With panic churning  inside you like a hurricane, you claw at your seat belt. Your fingers are shaking and clumsy and they don’t seem to work anymore and sobs well in your throat because this can’t be happening. It must be a dream, a nightmare, anything but what you know deep in your heart that it is: reality, the darkness whispers. A tendril of it slithers through the keyhole. It watches you. It is grinning.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter, or at least you think you do, before throwing open your door with one hand and scrabbling for the seat belt latch with the other. You manage to hit the release and go careening out of the car, landing on your hands and knees with a smack against the wet pavement. 

A man runs up to you, clutching your arm and pulling you up with large, gentle hands. Rain falls into your already blurry eyes, clinging to your eyelashes like tears as you look up at him and notice he has a full, greying beard. His mouth is moving but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. 

You look away from him, searching, wild, crazed. Maybe you are crazy. Maybe you are a lunatic. A crowd has half formed on the side of the road, sporting parkas and umbrellas. Like anxious birds, they flutter around a slumped figure laying unnaturally still on the ground. It wears a navy blue jacket.

You push the man away, stumbling on shaking legs like a newborn foal as you attempt to cross the distance between you and the flock of people. Dread fills your bones, cements itself as a lump in your throat, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Someone on their cell phone tries to reach out to you, but you shove their hands aside. Rain soaks the thin cloth of your t-shirt causing the material to cling to you like a second skin. But you can’t feel it. You can’t feel anything. 

You fall to your knees before him, landing with a splash in the puddle beneath you. Your mouth moves rapidly as you speak words you can’t hear: a chant, a plea, a prayer. Wake up! Come on, kid, just wake up. I’m so sorry. Please, wake up. All my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You beg - to gods, to monsters, to spirits and ghosts and the nature of things - but it falls on deaf ears as if you had never spoken at all. You feel for his pulse, for a sign, for anything. There is none. The darkness laughs. It is muffled behind the door but you can feel the vibrations of it running through your veins.

You hunch over yourself, fingers clutching at the wet pavement as you dig your nails into the asphalt, wanting to crawl inside your own body like a cocoon, wanting to feel something, anything. The ringing in your ears is so loud, so intense it fills your head and drowns out every other sound. The woman who has knelt down at your side and put her hand on your shoulder as she tries to speak to you. The thunder you can feel rumbling through the earth beneath your palms. The sirens from emergency vehicles you only know are there because the red and blue flashing lights cast a glow on his motionless form. You have never known another sound. It rings and rings and rings. It is endless.

You want to close your eyes. You want to block it all out, pretend that you’re still in your car, that you’re almost to Billie’s suburbs, and any minute now, she will greet you at the door. Well, would you look at that, she’d say. I don’t remember ordering dessert. Her eyes would glimmer and she would smile, beautiful, radiant, the light inside of her too bright for her to do anything but shine.

Billie- Your mind latches onto her like she is your buoy in the middle of the sea, and just the thought of her will keep you afloat even as the darkness uses its spindly arms to pull you under the surface. You reach for the invisible thread that binds your hearts together and, insistently, desperately, you tug. I’m so sorry, Billie. You force your eyes open. You force yourself to look at him. At the boy you did not see.

His bike lays in the middle of the road, bent and misshapen. The back wheel is still spinning.

From your open car door comes the notes of a familiar song. It echoes through the night, beneath the steady beat of the rain and the high, rumbling noise of thunder, and it is not beautiful anymore. It is haunting.

“Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles-”

You can’t feel anything.

“-to fall down at your door.”

--

“Will sh- b- okay?”

“Mil- conc-ssi-n, sh- in shock-”

“Try -alking t- he-”

Voices echo around you, so muffled and distorted that you can’t understand what they’re saying. They sound like they’re coming from very far away and the effort it would take to listen far outweighs the energy you have. You feel drained, like you’re sitting in the bottom of a fish bowl and the words bounce off the water to somewhere else. Not to you.

Not until you hear her.

“Look at me, Y/N.” Hands cup your face in a gentle hold, fingers tenderly stroking the skin of your cheekbones. The voice is so familiar. It cuts through the haze fogging your mind and you reach out as if to embrace it, to let it crawl inside your heart and warm you from the inside out. “Come on, sweetheart. Look at me.” 

You blink. Billie? Your eyelashes flutter as the world gradually comes into focus, no longer a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. With it, comes an angel. An angel with sunset hair and glimmering eyes and a kind smile. “Pretty woman?” you ask, and you wonder what happened to make your voice sound so raw and broken.

“There’s my girl,” she murmurs, ducking her head to meet your eyes. “Focus on me, baby.” You try to, holding her gaze like you would rather drown in it than face the demon you can feel hovering over your shoulder. She has a furrow between her brows, the one she has only when she’s truly upset. Why is she so sad? Why are you?

“Billie, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, but you can’t remember why you’re sorry. Only that you should be. Only that your heart aches, you smell like chemicals, and it feels like you just went a round with a boxer and lost. But it’s all a blur and you can’t remember why.

Billie reaches up and brushes your hair back away from your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.” Her smile is forced and the implication behind it only stirs the panic forming inside you until it spins so fast that it feels like you’re standing in the eye of a hurricane. 

“Ma’am, we need to speak with her,” a voice speaks suddenly from the doorway and you snap out of your trance, out of the safety of Billie’s gaze, and find yourself in a hospital room, in a hospital bed with an IV in your arm. The walls are a stark white that hurts your eyes to look at. It’s bare and sterile and impersonal; it feels like you just woke up in a padded cell where you are gradually losing your mind.

Billie looks over her shoulder; you follow her gaze and feel your stomach drop unpleasantly. A police officer stands just inside the door. You become suddenly aware of a bone deep chill pervading your entire body. There’s a blanket pulled up around your shoulders but you can’t seem to stop shaking. Why can’t you stop shaking? 

“No,  you don’t,” Billie says, the words tense as they leave her lips. The edges are sharp and you know if you were to reach out, they would cut you just as easily as a blade. You have never heard her sound like that before. “She’s still in shock. She won’t be able to tell you anything you haven’t already figured out from the cameras.” Your mind falters. The hurricane intensifies, becoming a swirling mass of wind and rain. It threatens to swallow you whole.

The officer steps into the room and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just procedure, Ms. Howard.”

Billie frowns, standing up and sliding in front of you as if to shield you from him. “I don’t give a damn. You could drag the Dalai Lama down here for all I care. I’m not letting you speak to her until she knows what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m not the Dalai Lama, I’m an officer of the law and if she’s responsive, I need to take her statement,” he insists, not unkindly. He looks over Billie’s shoulder at you, his expression apprehensive and sorrowful. Something is very, very wrong. You can feel it in your bones. The hurricane lashes out at you, angry and scared. You wonder if the hurricane is you.

Their argument drifts to the background as flashing lights from the window capture your attention. Blue and red. Familiar. The colors start to blur as rain hits the glass pane and you can only watch, mesmerized, as one droplet becomes two and three and then thunder - it rumbles so loudly it startles you and your heart leaps, pounds, races in your chest - and, suddenly, as if it had been this way all along, the hurricane is not inside of you anymore. It is all around you, surrounding you, and you are stuck within, caged like a bird, trapped like a ghost in a haunted house, you are a lunatic in a padded white cell. 

And then you remember.

Rain. So much rain. Sheets of it that slick the pavement and thunder that shakes the earth. But you are going to Billie’s, where you are warm, where you are safe, and a little rain is worth it to see the look on her face when she opens the door and sees you standing on the other side. Well, would you look at that, she’d say. I don’t remember ordering dessert. And she would smile and she would shine and you would walk among the clouds like a god. 

Something inside you stirs, something troubled, something bigger than you. An exiled giant chained to the mountain pass, a forgotten creature locked in the depths of Hell, the darkness behind the door. For the first time since meeting Billie, you feel afraid.

A taxi, bright yellow, the color of sunflowers and sunshine and that knitted sweater Billie likes to wear in the summer. It veers off; you watch it float away, along the yellow brick road, maybe into the sky to Neverland, down the rabbit hole, it goes and goes and goes. And then a boy and a navy blue jacket and a bike with a misshapen wheel that never stopped turning.

The darkness pushes at the locked door, snaking it’s spindly arms along the edge, seeking for a way out, searching for a weakness. You can feel its eyes on you, watching you through the keyhole. 

A mistake, you didn’t see him, you tried to stop, to swerve, you tried to do anything else but what you did, it’s your fault and you know it, you did this. The road was so wet, you could feel it beneath your hands, flashing lights illuminate his body, blue and red, someone touches your shoulder but you can’t feel it, wake up, wake up, unnaturally still, a song, your ears ring, it’s endless, still, so still, blue and red, it casts a glow to his face, but I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk- You dig your nails into the pavement. You can’t feel anything. 

You did this. It’s your fault. It’s all your fault.

You can feel it the moment the lock shatters and the door swings open. It feels inevitable, like you have been staring into the abyss this whole time, and it has finally decided to swallow you whole. The darkness slithers out and you watch it with bated breath. You have never known a fear this great, the moment you stared into the darkness and didn’t have your light. 

Your soul calls for Billie, screams out her name, begs and pleads for her to protect you like she always said she would. You reach out for the invisible thread tethered between you and you tug and tug and tug but your hands are slippery and you can’t hold on. Your fingers brush her sleeve. 

The darkness seems to smile. You can feel its amusement, its maliciousness, its cruelty. You are frozen in place as it moves towards you, ensnared like a rabbit in a trap, you are a lunatic in a padded cell. It’s spindly arms reach out. I’m so sorry, Billie. It embraces you like an old friend.  

You let it.

[rosiehunterwolf]

rainy days

Prompts: Storm

Word Count: 10,561 (i KNOW i'm sorry)

Characters: Jay, Nya, and Lloyd

Timeline: Snapshots throughout the series

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of nightmares, brief PTSD, Grief/Mourning

Summary: There are many reasons why people may dislike storms. Maybe, like Kai, they find few things worse than being cold and wet. Or maybe, they dislike the eerie sounds of the whistling wind and booming thunder, like Cole. Or maybe, like Zane, they are concerned about the safety hazards. But for the other three members of the ninja team, storms offer a much more pleasant experience.

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Jay should have been sleeping.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it was late. The rest of his team had gone to sleep hours ago. He could tell by the sounds of their breath- Zane’s clear and even, Kai’s with a rougher edge that came from years of breathing in smoke at the forge, and Cole’s deep with a light snore to it.

The sounds brought him comfort, and Jay felt the tension in his shoulders from hunting down Serpentine all day ease up. It was funny, how, less than a year ago, he had slept in a trailer home in the middle of the desert, no one but his parents for miles around, and even then he had slept in his own room. But now, he was crammed in a small bedroom on the Destiny’s Bounty with three other teenage boys, and he couldn’t imagine life any other way.

Although, that life also included waking up early every morning and spending the better part of the day training and hunting Serpentine, meaning one ought to get a full night’s rest.

It wasn’t that Jay didn’t want to sleep. It had been a long day, and he was tired.

But he couldn’t. It was one of those nights where the wind whistled in the trees and the rain pattered against the windows. There was a dull ache in his left shoulder, the one that usually alluded to-

A flash of light illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the wall for an instant before it grew dark again.

Jay smiled. Lightning storm. Never failed.

Now he was even more awake though, the hair along his arm standing up. He sighed, pushing himself into a sitting position and dangling his feet over the edge of the bed. Groaning, he rolled his shoulders, and they popped. Making his way over to the ladder, he climbed down and tiptoed across the room, easing the door of their room shut behind him.

Thunder rumbled from outside, and as Jay reached a window, lightning lit up the dark ship again. He smiled, feeling excitement bubble in his chest. Storms had always given him an odd elation- although he guessed it wasn’t so weird now, knowing he was the Master of Lightning.

Not that he had succeeded in summoning any lightning without the Golden Nunchucks yet, but the point still stood. This was his element. This was where he was meant to be.

Peering out the window, he saw the rain looked to be fairly light, and decided to go outside. I’m already awake, why not?

As he walked down the hallway towards the doors leading out to the deck, he paused as voices filtered towards him. Curiously, he stepped forward, and froze at the sight of two figures.

Nya had a bath towel in her hands, wrapping it around Lloyd as she tried to dry him off. The kid was scowling, attempting to pull away from her and grumbling something about buzzkills.

“What are you guys doing up so late?”

“Jay!” Nya jumped, dropping the towel and giving Lloyd the opportunity to slip out of her grasp. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep, ‘cause of the…” he waved his hand at the window, “‘cause of the storm.”

She smiled. “Me neither. And apparently,” she added with a grimace, “not this little guy either. Found him standing out in the rain looking like a drowned rat.”

“I did not look like a rat!” Lloyd insisted, stomping his foot.

“Oh, so the drowned part was right then?” Jay snickered. Lloyd shot him a hot glare, and Jay held up his hands. “Geez kid, I’m just joking.”

Lloyd huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to be out in the storm. I like watching them.”

“I get that,” Jay told him. “I love watching the storms too. Especially when there’s some killer lightning bolts. I’ve got some great lightning pictures I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Lloyd’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“He can show you tomorrow,” Nya insisted. “It’s two am, and it’s way past your bedtime.”

Jay winced. Geez, he really was going to be tired tomorrow morning, wasn’t he?

“But I didn’t even get to see the storm!” Lloyd whined. Turning to Jay, he added, “You’ll let me watch it with you, won’t you?”

Jay laughed nervously. Great, now the kid was trying to rope him into this to gain an advantage on Nya. No thanks.

…He did have a point, though. From the sounds of it, this was a big storm, and Jay wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep until it passed.

Nya must’ve guessed what he was thinking, because she sighed loudly. “I’ll let you stay up for half an hour more if you watch it from inside.”

“It’s not the same!” Jay and Lloyd burst out at the same time, then froze, glancing at each other. Jay broke into laughter at the look on the kid’s face, and, after a moment, Lloyd tentatively joined in too.

“C’mon, Nya, I’ll be with him. The Bounty is mostly sheltered, anyway. We’re not even flying! Let him out for a little while.”

Nya glared at him. “I don’t know how you talk me into these things.”

“Alright!” Jay whooped, high-fiving Lloyd.

“If he comes down with a cold, I am never forgiving you,” Nya muttered, reaching for her rain poncho. She handed Lloyd a spare one of theirs. “At least wear this.”

Lloyd wrinkled his nose at her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Wear it, or don’t go at all.”

Lloyd sighed, slipping it on, and Jay had to bite back a laugh. The poncho was much too big on him, coming down to his ankles like some sort of strange dress. Lloyd didn’t look very happy about it though, so Jay refrained from the teasing.

As the three of them trekked out onto the deck, gentle rainfall pattered across their ponchos, and Jay immediately felt himself relax, the stiffness in his shoulders easing. Lloyd perked up too, skipping over to the railing to peer over the side, trying to spot lightning in the distance. Even Nya began to smile, tilting her face up towards the rain.

“See?” Jay teased, elbowing her. “You like it too!”

“I like the rain,” she told him. “It doesn’t mean I have the sense to stand out in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

“I told you, we’ll be fine! It’s perfectly safe here! Stop being such a grouch and come on!” Hooking her by the elbow, he pulled her over to where Lloyd was standing at the railing.

“See any cool bolts, Lloydster?” Jay asked, leaning his elbows on the railing next to him.

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. “Not yet.”

“Well, keep looking. It’s when you’re not watching carefully that you miss all the cool ones.”

Lloyd’s eyebrows furrowed as he squinted at the sky, almost as if he was commanding it to do something. Jay laughed. “You have to be patient, Lloyd.”

“Lloyd doesn’t know what that is,” Nya snorted.

Lloyd bristled at that. “Hey!” he snapped as Jay burst into laughter. He elbowed Nya, hard, and she flinched back with a whine.

“Ow! Kid, that hurt!”

“Hey, don’t think just because I’m smaller than you, I’m not strong!”

“Duly noted,” Nya muttered, rubbing her side.

Lightning crackled down not too far off, leaping across the sky in spindly strands, the flash blazing across the sky. Lloyd’s eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch, not even as thunder boomed loudly, practically shaking the Bounty.

“Never seen a big storm like this, bud?” he asked, grinning up in awe at the light blazing in the sky.

“We weren’t allowed to go out without permission at Darkley’s. And the teachers never let us go at night. Some of the older boys snuck out anyway, but they never let me come with them.” Lloyd sighed, resting his chin on his hands. “I missed all the best storms.”

“Well, you’re in luck, bud, because I come out here to watch storms all the time! And you can join me anytime!” Nya shot him a look, and he quickly amended, “Well, before a reasonable hour, at least. This is a special occasion.”

Lloyd had an odd look on his face, but he smiled tentatively. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You’re pretty brave, out here in the storm like this. When I was your age, I remember always running to Kai’s room every time there was a storm.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad as she gazed off into the distance.

Lloyd shrugged. “I dunno, some of the other young kids at Darkley’s were scared of storms and tried to hide it… but I don’t think that’s me. I’ve never been afraid of them. I can’t really explain it, I just feel a connection.”

Something odd tingled in Jay’s chest, and he sensed a spark coming from the boy, a warm glow, like a soft, green-

Jay blinked, and the sensation passed. He must’ve just been imagining things again. Maybe it was his supposed “elemental powers” reacting to the storm. Jay didn’t understand what the point of feeling them was if he still couldn’t use them without his Golden Weapon.

“It’s dumb,” Lloyd muttered, kicking the ground sullenly.

“Hey, it’s not! I feel some sort of pull to the storm too!” Jay assured him.

“But you’re the Elemental Master of Lightning! That makes sense for you.”

“What about Nya?”

Lloyd turned to look at her, gaze questioning. “You feel it too?”

Nya closed her eyes. “The rain- it calms me. It patters across my skin, wiping all my thoughts and worries away, leaving just me and the storm, the gentle rumbles of thunder filling my mind.”

Lloyd smiled shyly at her. “You do get it.”

“I never thought it was an elemental thing, anyway,” Jay told him. “I’ve always felt this way- long before I found out I was an elemental master. Granted, we didn’t get many thunderstorms in the middle of the desert, more dust storms than anything… but when we did, it always felt special. Every time it stormed, I would always run to sit on the steps of our trailer- my mom wouldn’t let me go any further- and watch the lightning. I had a notebook, where I would sketch it, and once I got a little older my mom got me a camera and I started taking pictures. By the time I was seven, I could name pretty much every type of lightning formation and storm there was.”

Nya smiled. “I remember being pretty intrigued as well. Like I said, when I was young I was scared, but after a little while I realized that the things I feared were the things I didn’t understand. I checked out like, pretty much every book from the library on storms. And I made those little raincatcher things to measure rainfall, and placed them all over the place whenever we travelled to the city. Kai got annoyed whenever I dragged him all the way down there again the next day to check them all. He never understood my “experiments.” I mean, technically it was more of an analytical study, but… tell that to him.”

Lloyd looked out at the storm again as another lightning bolt flashed. “I wish someone had taken me out to see the storms when I was little.”

Nya elbowed him lightly. “You’re still little, silly.”

Lloyd puffed out his chest. “Am not! I’m getting taller and taller every day, and-”

“Okay, okay,” Nya laughed. “Cool it, big shot.”

Shortstack, Jay mouthed above his head, but apparently Lloyd still caught it, he realized quickly, as he was delivered a kick to the shin.

“Ow,” Jay whined. “Will you stop doing that? It’s a good thing you’re not a ninja, sheesh, or you’d be pummeling all our enemies before we could even get them to speak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, I’d be a great ninja!”

“Let’s not put that idea into his head,” Nya said hastily. “What I was trying to say was, your childhood isn’t over yet, Lloyd. We can take you out to see storms now.”

“Really?” He perked. “Like, all the time?”

“Well…” Nya hesitated. “A good night’s sleep is important. But it’s okay to stay up late once in a while.”

“Aww, I’m gonna get to watch so many cool storms from here! It’s a way better view than my tiny window back at Darkley’s. Or trapped in the Serpentine tombs, I couldn’t even see the sky then. Or when I was alone in the city streets-”

Nya and Jay exchanged a glance of horror. Jay swallowed. “Hey, um, Lloyd, maybe now isn’t the best time to discuss, uh… childhood trauma?”

Nya facepalmed, and Jay shot her a glare. Like you can do better. Sure, he knew he had all the tact of Kai high on Venomari venom, but what else was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry your childhood sucked so bad?’ Somehow, he didn’t think Lloyd would appreciate that.

Lloyd didn’t seem to be listening to them anyway, still babbling on even after Jay and Nya finished their intense glaring match. “D’you think Kai would like to watch the storm with us?”

Jay snorted. “Hard no, bud.”

Nya grinned. “He hates getting wet, Lloyd. You couldn’t lure him out here with the green ninja gi itself.” She paused. “Well, maybe you could with that. But not with anything else! He wouldn’t like it. And he would complain about it until you wanted to chop your ears off.”

“The others aren’t too big on storms,” Jay told him. “Kai’s a hydrophobe, Zane would just spend all his time harping about ‘safety’ and ‘taking proper shelter’ during a storm, and Cole complains that they’re too loud and throw off his focus, although- and you didn’t hear this from me- I think he’s just a big ‘fraidy cat.”

“In short, they think we’re weirdos. It’s their loss though, they’re missing all the cool views from out here.” She waved her hand at the sky as a barrage of lightning bolts showered down across the horizon, paling the sky as Lloyd gasped in amazement.

“Oh, that’s a sweet one!” Jay whooped, raising his phone and snapping a picture with it.

Nya eyed him. “Jay, if you keep that out in the rain, you’re going to end up wrecking it.”

“If I put it in my pocket I might miss all the cool pictures!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Okay, but I’m not buying you a new one.”

“Can you show me all your lightning pictures when we go back inside, Jay?” Lloyd asked, dangling his arms over the edge of the railing.

“Can I? Oh man, I’ve got hundreds in there to show you-”

Nya cleared her throat, and Jay glanced down at the time on his phone. 3:12? Had they really been out here for over an hour already? He grinned sheepishly at Lloyd. “Maybe just a couple photos tonight. We can look at more tomorrow.”

“Alright, but you hafta promise to show me all the good-” Lloyd broke off in a big yawn, revealing his small, gleaming fangs, and Nya smiled softly at him.

“Think that’s our signal for bed, kid.”

“No! No, I’m not tired at all-” Lloyd slapped his hand over his mouth before he could yawn again.

“Hey, we let you stay up way past your bedtime, mister. You don’t get to complain now.”

“But I’m gonna miss the storm,” Lloyd whined, although he let Nya drag him back towards the doors by the arm.

“The storm’s beginning to pass now, anyway,” Jay assured, stretching a hand out as the raindrops began to lighten. “It’ll be back though, eventually.”

Lloyd grinned at him. “And we’ll be ready to watch it?”

“That we will, bud.” Jay reached forward, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. “That we will.”

---

After long days of stifling, dry heat, the evening rain came as a relief to everyone. Lloyd sat on the roof of the Brookstone residence, watching and feeling the rain pour down. He hoped Mr. Brookstone wouldn’t mind him sitting up here, he had been kind enough to let them stay with him until the repairs to the Destiny’s Bounty were complete, and Lloyd didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

Lloyd felt like this cool summer storm was just what the city needed, not only because of the dryness, but because of the darkness that had scoured the streets here only nights before. The Overlord was gone- he had made sure of it- but he couldn’t shake the feeling of grime left in the city, and hoped the rain would be enough to cleanse it.

“We thought we’d find you up here.”

Lloyd glanced behind him to see Jay and Nya gingerly picking their way across the rooftop behind him, before plopping down into a sitting position beside him.

“See any cool lightning?” Jay asked.

“Not yet. All I’ve heard is a little thunder. It seems to be mostly rain.”

“Good,” Nya sighed, turning her face up to the sky as rivulets streamed down her face. “We need it.”

“How you doing, bud?”

It took Lloyd a moment to process that Jay was talking to him, and he turned to him, blinking. “What?”

Jay grinned. “Y’know, great and mighty ‘Master of Gold’ and all that- or have you already gotten over that? Too insignificant for you?”

“It’s ‘Golden Ninja,’ not ‘Master of Gold,’” Lloyd grumbled.

“Yeah, whatever. How you doin’? You just fought like, the biggest battle of your life a few days ago. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little tired.”

“Speaking of which,” Nya frowned, tapping lightly at his bandaged leg, “You’re still supposed to be resting that for another two weeks. You shouldn’t be climbing up here. Or letting the cast sit out in the rain.”

“Here.” Jay pulled off his jacket, tossing it over Lloyd’s cast to keep it dry. “That’ll help. That way, you can stay out here for a little longer.”

Lloyd shot him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jay.”

Jay didn’t return it, watching him carefully. “You sure you’re okay?”

Lloyd lowered his head. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Sure is,” Jay whistled, rubbing at the gold silk of Lloyd’s gi. “It seems like just yesterday you were a little bratty, messy haired kid we were dragging, kicking and screaming, onto our ship.”

Lloyd rested his chin in his hands. “Feels both like yesterday, and a million years ago. So much has changed since then. I feel like a completely different Lloyd, now.”

“One thing hasn’t though.”

He looked up at Nya. “What’s that?”

“You’re still our heart-of-gold little brother.” She slung an arm around his shoulder. “Nothing, not some prophecy, not the tea, not the Overlord, not even your special, shiny new powers are going to change that. Ever.”

“I know,” he whispered, leaning into her. He felt Jay wrap a hand around his other side, and, for a moment, just let himself be held.

“We’re proud of you,” Nya murmured after a moment. “I know it hasn’t been easy getting this far, but now, thanks to you, all of Ninjago is safe.”

He leaned back slightly, elbowing both of them. “Yeah, well I couldn’t have done any of it without you guys.”

“You big sap,” Jay laughed, ruffling his hair.

Lloyd felt a grin split his face, shoving Jay’s hand off. “Well, it’s true! If it weren’t for you guys, I’d probably be in Pythor’s stomach right now.”

Nya choked a laugh. “Thanks for that grim reminder.”

“What, you forgot about Pythor?” Jay teased.

Nya shrugged. “I didn’t forget, just… compared to the Overlord, Pythor seems much less intimidating, now.”

“That could partially be due to the fact that he’s probably half-digested inside the gut of a giant, dead snake.”

“Ewww!” Nya jabbed him, hard. “Lloyd, that’s disgusting. Ugh, now I’m not going to be able to get that image out of my head all night.”

“Hey, better him there than here,” Jay said, leaning back to lay on the roof, letting raindrops sprinkle his face. “After all the training and fighting we’ve done over the last few months, I just want a break from villains.”

Lloyd shot him a glare. “We’ve done? Last time I checked, it was me doing most of the training.”

Jay sat up again, sputtering. “Hey! The rest of us weren’t exactly sitting on our bums, were we? Back when you were just a little sprout, we were the ones busy saving Ninjago! And who taught you everything you know, hmmm? You weren’t an easy student, you know that, right?”

Lloyd laughed. “Okay, buddy.”

“Don’t you ‘okay, buddy’ me! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be shattering all our lightbulbs! Remember who taught you to control the lightning!”

Lloyd blinked at him, pretending to look thoughtful. “I thought that was Nya.”

“Nya?! I’m the Elemental Master of lightning!”

Nya laughed, knocking her leg gently against his. “Stop messing with him, dude. Let him have this one.”

Lloyd mockingly rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright.”

Silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable one. Lloyd closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of rain dripping through his hair and the warmth of his friends at his side.

It was funny how something so horrible had brought him to these people, this moment- something he would never give up for the world.

“Do you think the Overlord’s really gone?”

That remark earned him two very shocked glances.

“Where did that come from?” Nya spluttered.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Jay agreed. “You defeated him. We all saw it.”

Lloyd shook his head. “Yeah, I know, it’s just… if the Overlord’s dead… my father is cleansed of the venom… and the Serpentine are good now… where does that leave us?”

Jay and Nya exchanged a glance. “What do you mean?”

“Things are so different, now. I’m not even the green ninja anymore. I’m wearing-” he tugged at his golden gi, “this. Being a ninja is the one place I’ve felt like I really belong, but if the world is at peace now, where are a bunch of ninja and a Samurai supposed to fit into it? It’s crazy, how we’ve spent the last months- the rest of you guys, over a year- training for this one big moment. And now it’s over. What happens next? What happens to us?”

“There’s no way to tell the future, Lloyd,” Jay murmured. “We won’t know until it’s here. The world is going to change around us- people will change, circumstances will change, our lives will change. But do you know what won’t change? Us. We might look different in the future. Act different, live different, I don’t know. But this group- this family- is never going to change. This-” he gestured at the sky above them, “is never going to change. Do you remember how, before your green ninja training got so intense and demanding, we would always go out to watch storms together? And yet, even after all those months, your first instinct was to come back to it again. Those kinds of things don’t just go away.”

“Jay’s right,” Nya agreed. “This is always going to be our special thing. Just like we are your special people. Time can’t erode memories. It can’t erode love.”

Lloyd smiled, as lightning cracked across the sky in the distance. “You’re right. The future is open to us. No matter what happens next, nothing can change who we are.”

---

Nya flopped over on the armchair, sighing.

It had been a long night.

After a villain had been defeated, Nya always looked forward to coming home, back to the Bounty, and just sleeping for about fourteen hours straight.

That hadn’t happened this time.

Even just coming home to the Bounty hadn’t been as warm and welcoming as it usually was. The hallways had felt empty, desolate, the rooms lifeless, and their bedroom bare except for the few things her and Lloyd had left behind- the rest of the guys’ beds made unnaturally neat and spotless, as if no one had slept in them for months.

Which, they hadn’t.

As the guys had filed in, she had tried to focus on the fact that they were here now, not the emptiness they had left behind in those months after Zane had died. Even Lloyd, who had been the only one to stay with her, had felt distant and standoffish in those days, hardly speaking to her or anyone else.

Ushering everyone off to bed had been a whole other fiasco. All the guys that had left had taken a moment to adjust back into the Bounty again, but Zane had been the worst. He had spent a long time just walking around the ship, staring at things and saying nothing. Poor Lloyd had been shaken about losing his father- after a while, Cole had insisted on sitting with him instead so that she could go check on Kai- who had still been trembling from Chen’s staff. It had taken her hours to get him to drift off.

She knew that she better head to her bed soon- if she didn’t sleep herself, Cole would come to chew her out- but she wanted to make sure everyone was staying asleep before she did. It would be just like them to get out of bed as soon as she was asleep.

She must have drifted off at some point though, because when she blinked open her eyes again, the gentle patter of rain sounded against the side of the Bounty. Lightning illuminated the room, and she stretched, getting out of the chair and walking over to the window.

As she reached out to close the curtains, though, she noticed the deck lights of the Bounty were on. Frowning, she pulled open the doors and walked outside.

Jay and Lloyd were leaning on the railing, staring at the sky. Neither of them spoke, but their elbows bumped together comfortingly. Nya felt a flash of frustration that Lloyd had managed to sneak out of bed already.

“Hey, I can’t believe you guys came out here without me,” she teased, walking over to stand on the other side of Lloyd. “This is our thing.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Sorry. You were sleeping.”

Nya narrowed her eyes. “You were supposed to be, too.”

“I was-” he yelped at the glare Nya shot him. “I swear! I was! But the storm woke me up.”

She sighed, letting it drop. For now.

“What are you guys thinking about?”

Lloyd shifted on his feet. “My dad-”

“Griffin Turner,” Jay said at the same time.

Nya and Lloyd looked at him. “...What?”

Jay blushed slightly. “The Elemental Master of Speed? From the Tournament?”

Lloyd snorted, and Nya rolled her eyes. “We know who he is, Jay. Why are you thinking about him?”

“Speed is a dumb element. Y’know, I wouldn’t even really consider it an element. Like- he can run fast. So what? The elements are supposed to help you create stuff. Speed isn’t a tangible thing you can make.”

Lloyd laughed. “You’re still upset about that, Jay?”

“What? It doesn’t make any sense! Like, speed isn’t an element, it’s an ability. Like, you know how Cole’s the Elemental Master of Earth and has super strength, right? Makes sense. So, shouldn’t, say, an Elemental Master of Lightning, be super fast?”

“Oh, I see what this is about,” Nya grinned, leaning over to poke Jay in the arm as Lloyd dissolved into giggles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I am not jealous! I just think that it makes a lot more sense that an elemental master who possesses the power of lightning, which is made of light, literally the fastest thing in the universe, should be the fast one, not some random dude who claims his element is ‘speed.’ Like, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard! He’s not a true elemental master if you ask me.”

“Someone’s still upset about my father saying he wasn’t special,” Lloyd whispered loudly into Nya’s ear, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to contain her laughter, as Jay kicked Lloyd’s ankle.

“It is interesting, though,” she admitted after they had all calmed down a little bit. “That there are others like you. I thought you five were the only ones in the world with powers like this… but elemental masters of Shadow? Metal? Nature? It’s crazy to think how many people there were that were just like you guys living in Ninjago with us, and we never even noticed.”

“Well, not just like us,” Jay muttered. “We are the four elements of creation… and Lloyd’s the Elemental Master of Energy, so we’re hardly comparable to their sub-par elements…”

Lloyd elbowed Jay in the ribs, and he yelped. “Yeah, it is kind of crazy… and it makes me wonder. Did every elemental master in existence decide to come to the tournament? What if there were more, ones that saw through Chen’s tricks and didn’t attend?”

Jay’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure there aren’t more-”

Nya grinned, winking at Lloyd. “Oh yeah, wouldn’t that be awesome? What do you think they could be? Maybe Master of Space? Wood?”

“Maybe Silver! Or Plasma! Water?” He paused, frowning. “Actually, I’m surprised there wasn’t a Master of-”

“Let’s not get outrageous, here,” Jay insisted. “What do you need those for? Lightning is plasma, and frankly those others just sound useless-”

Nya snapped her fingers. “What about a Master of Crystal? Or, I know, a Master of Thunder!”

“Okaaaay, people, now we’re just laying it on me!” Jay snapped. “Thunder is stupid! Storms are my thing!”

“I dunno, Jay, I think it could be cool. What do you think, Lloyd?”

“Oh yeah, that would be awesome-”

He was interrupted by a loud bang of thunder, and Lloyd and Nya burst into laughter.

“Looks like the universe agrees with us, Jay!”

“Are you kidding? If anything, that was showing that it disagrees with you!”

Lloyd smiled, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Relax, big shot, we’re kidding. No one could ever replace you.”

“Hey, you don’t get to call me that! Only we can call you big shot.”

Lloyd looked at Nya, and she nodded. “He’s right. You’re the only big shot around here.”

Lloyd whined. “You guys keep saying that like it’s a good thing but I feel like it’s supposed to be offensive.”

Nya laughed, and Jay ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, big shot.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes at him. “Stop that.”

“Make me.”

Nya pushed the two apart as they broke into a scuffle, rolling her eyes. “Guys, stoppit, you’re going to miss the lighting.”

They stopped at that, turning their gazes up to the sky as a bolt shot across the night, fizzling out at the end. Smiling, the three of them leaned forward on the railing, watching as the light show commenced.

---

Nya loved the rain.

The rain was carefree, playful- it took away a need for words, for thoughts, for worries. The rain didn’t bother with such frivolous things. It just was.

She hadn’t understood the tingle under her skin, however, every time rain was about to come, the slight ache in her bones leading up to every storm. These things had finally been made clear when she had found out that she was the next Elemental Master of Water- but everything else had become foggier.

Now she didn’t know who she was, what she was meant to be, what was supposed to become of Samurai X, if she would ever be able to truly fit in with the ninja group-

And most of all, she didn’t know how she was going to get her little brother back.

Right now, she hated the rain.

It was cold and heavy and grim- it only served as a reminder that she had failed. Her element was the one thing that could get Lloyd back, and she couldn’t even control it.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Nya jumped nearly a foot in the air at Jay’s voice, and he put a hand on her shoulder, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The smile quickly faded as he got a better look at her. “Geez, Nya, you’re trembling.”

“Am I?” She hadn’t even noticed.

“Here.” Slipping off his jacket, he wrapped it tightly around her, before pulling her into a hug. For a moment, Nya let herself relax against him, the steady beat of his heart soothing her.

“How’s Cole doing?” she asked after a moment. She had hoped her talk with him earlier had helped- although the Earth Ninja had still seemed to be upset about his new, ghostly form. Not that she blamed him.

Jay was quiet for a moment. “He’s hanging in there.”

Nya squeezed her eyes shut. Wasn’t one teammate to worry about more than enough? Why did destiny seem to throw everything on them all at once?

“Hey, you’re wearing your gi.”

“Huh?” Nya blinked her eyes open, glancing down at the maroon and blue garment she was wearing. “Oh. Yeah. Sensei said I should wear it now.”

Jay grinned. “I take it your training is going well, then?”

Nya shrugged, looking away.

“Hey.” Jay took her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going okay, I guess. I’m a lot better than I was. But I’m still nowhere near the level of you guys.”

“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t expect you to be! Nya, it’s only been a few weeks since you started training. Me and the guys have been at it for years, and were training for several months before we even got a decent handle on our powers. You’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah, but, it’s not enough. And we don’t have months. I need to be a good Master of Water now.”

Jay’s expression softened. “Nya… we’ll find a way to save him. With or without your powers.”

“I just…” she stopped, gulping back a sob. “I just wish I could be more useful.”

“Me too.”

Lightning spit the sky overhead, followed by a mighty rumble of thunder. They watched it, but there was no joy in it this time around.

It wasn’t the same without Lloyd.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Jay wrapped an arm around her, murmuring, “Nya, you’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”

She went without any protest. After all, the storm had nothing to offer her, anymore.

---

The storm that night was gentle, which Lloyd was grateful for.

Nya and Jay had assured that they’d be perfectly fine not going out- in fact, they didn’t want to- a lie, they just didn’t want Lloyd to feel left out.

They thought he didn’t want to go out. They thought he was forcing himself to go just because he wanted them to go and he wanted to go with them. But that wasn’t the case. Lloyd really did want to go outside. Morro had stolen so much from him- his family, his mind, his control, his own body- he wasn’t about to allow him to take his love for the storms, too.

So what if storms were filled with the same howling winds that reminded Lloyd of him, the sensation of the breeze reminding him of the chill across his spine as the ghost slipped into his body?

Lloyd wanted to do this. He really did.

He was just… scared.

“You sure you wanna do this, green machine?” Nya’s voice, a hand on his shoulder.

Lloyd nodded stiffly. “If I don’t step out of these doors now, I never will.” Without giving himself any time to change his mind, he leaned forward and pulled open the doors.

Immediately, he was sprinkled with rain, and stepped further out, letting the droplets wash over him.

Then a breeze hit him, and he clenched his teeth, curling his fists into balls.

It’s okay. You’re in the rain. The rain will protect you from ghosts. Jay and Nya are here, too. They will protect you from ghosts.

As if to solidify his point, Nya slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed it back, forcing himself to take long, slow breaths- in and out, in and out, in and out.

“Bud?” Jay put a hand on his back. “You good? You don’t have to do this. We can go inside. Try another time.”

Lloyd shook his head. Breathing out slowly, he took a shaky step forward- then another, and another. Winds tickled past him as he walked, but he ignored them, every step his confidence building until he stopped in front of the railing of the Bounty.

He watched the dark sky, holding his breath, waiting.

Nothing came.

He bit his lip. He needed this. He needed to know that the spark was still there, that Morro hadn’t taken it away-

Suddenly, a blazing warmth glowed in his chest, and Lloyd smiled- just as a mighty burst of lightning shattered the night sky.

He still had it.

A warm weight pressed in on either side of him as Jay and Nya joined him at the railing, the lightning illuminating their faces so that they almost seemed to glow.

They were here now. They would keep him safe.

Things weren’t okay, not yet. Far from it. But he had taken a step today. And he would continue to take steps until things were okay again, and his family was going to be beside him every step of the way.

Morro was gone now. It was about time Lloyd stopped letting him win.

---

Lightning flashed.

Nya, in his arms, limp and weak, the light fading in her eyes. The green venom splashed across her dress.

Thunder boomed.

Nadakhan, standing over him, laughing as he waved the Djinn Blade at him- the one that had trapped all his friends, the one that had left him all alone. He was the last one left.

No, he reminded himself firmly, squeezing Nya’s hand tighter. I’m not alone. Nya’s not dead. She’s right here next to me. All the others are safely sleeping inside the Bounty. I stopped him. He’s gone now.

Nya glanced at him. “You okay?”

He sniffed, wiping at his nose with the hand that wasn’t firmly gripping Nya’s. “Honestly? Not really.”

Nya looked up at the sky. “Me neither.”

“I’d thought I’d lost you.”

She turned back, letting her fingers skirt his jawline. “I know. I’m sorry. But you didn’t. I’m here now. It’s all over.”

Jay breathed out, leaning his head on her shoulder. For a long time, they just stood there, staring out at the storm, saying nothing.

“Beautiful night for a stargaze, isn’t it?”

He turned to see Lloyd walking towards them, grinning as he gestured at the stormy skies above them.

Nya rolled her eyes at him, and Lloyd tossed his head in her direction, his sopping wet hair spattering her with water. Not that it made a difference in all the rain.

“Normally I’m the one who has insomnia-inducing nightmares and doesn’t sleep,” he teased, pushing his way between them to lean on the railing.

Jay caught Nya muttering something about “joking about childhood trauma” and “we should all go see a therapist,” and the alarmingly cheerful grin Lloyd shot her made Jay think she might have a point.

“Who told you we had nightmares?” Jay asked.

“Jay, most people don’t come outside in the pouring rain, in the middle of a thunderstorm no less, at three am in the morning just for the fun of it.”

Jay grinned. “Yeah, well we’re not ‘most people.’”

Lloyd shook his head, smiling. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. I just thought I would join you.”

“What about you,” Nya probed. “Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply, his lips popping on the p. When they stared at him, he blinked. “What? It’s because of the storm!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, If you don’t have to talk about it, I don’t either. Besides, that wasn’t a complete lie. Look.” Lloyd held out his arm for them both to see. It looked like a perfectly normal arm to Jay, but Lloyd was looking at them expectantly. “Feel it.”

Nya raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just do it,” he insisted.

Jay reached forward, pressing his fingers against Lloyd’s forearm-

And promptly jerked back as it vibrated beneath his touch.

“Woah.”

Seeing the look on his face, Nya quickly reached forward, her eyes widening as she pulled back. “What is that? Why are you buzzing?”

“I think it’s the storm,” Lloyd said. “My powers must be reacting to it. Sensing the lightning.”

“Does it hurt?” Jay asked.

He shook his head. “No, just tingles a little bit.”

“I didn’t even know you could do that,” Nya whispered, running her fingers along his arm again.

“I couldn’t. Not up until recently. This only just started happening.”

“Woah. Like a built-in storm sensor. Now you’re like us! I can feel a bit of a tingle when there’s a lightning storm on the way, and I know Nya can feel the rain coming. Ours aren’t quite as obvious as yours, though.” He gestured to Lloyd’s arm.

Lloyd examined his arm. “That’s awesome.”

Nya snorts. “Not so awesome when it wakes you up every time there’s a thunderstorm.”

Lloyd gave her a gentle shove. “Stop trying to blame it on that. I know you were already awake anyway.”

Nya snorted, looking away.

Lloyd frowned. “You guys sure you’re okay?”

Jay nudged him. “We’ll be fine, green bean. We always are.”

Jay watched him, wondering if he would probe further. But he simply nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

Jay smiled. That was one of the things he liked best about Lloyd.

Sometimes, silence said more than words.

---

Rain pattered against the glass doors. Lloyd glanced up from where he was sitting on the too-large bed.

The royal family’s hospitality was greatly appreciated, but the room was so big. Lloyd wasn’t used to having so much space, or such fancy things- he wasn’t even used to having his own room. The six of them crowded into the little cabin on the Destiny’s Bounty was the only thing he had known for a long time.

He wanted to get out.

Walking over to the balcony doors, Lloyd pushed them open, quickly pulling them closed again behind him, so as not to let the rain in.

Walking over to the railing, he hopped up, sitting on it and letting his feet dangle over the edge. The bedroom might not have been his taste, but the view of the city from here was absolutely breathtaking. Lights were scattered throughout the dark landscape like reflections of the stars above, and the rain created a light, pooling mist that shrouded the city in an air of mystery and wonder.

He couldn’t have been sitting there for more than half an hour when Jay and Nya suddenly dropped in next to him from seemingly out of nowhere. Lloyd jumped, gripping the railing below him tightly as he narrowly avoided falling the very long drop to the city streets below.

“Geez, guys, don’t sneak up on me like that. How did you even get here?”

Nya winked at him. “It’s a ninja’s secret.”

Lloyd felt his nose wrinkle. That doesn’t make any sense. “I’m a ninja, too. Doesn’t that mean I should get to know the secret, too?”

Nya shook her head. “Sorry, green machine, that’s not how it works.”

Lloyd sputtered at her. “What do you mean that’s not how it works? How else would it work?”

“That part’s a secret.”

He threw up his hands. “You’re impossible.” “Nya Smith,” she grinned, shouldering him playfully. “Tormenting brothers since the day I was born.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey, you weren’t even there for most of it! Kai had it way worse than you.”

“Trust me, you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Oh, come on, I know I’m actually your favorite sister.”

“You’re my only sister.”

“Ouch. Hit it where it hurts, why don’t ya?”

“You walked right into that one, and you know it.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and even as the sounds faded, they still sat with massive grins on their faces, swinging their legs back and forth gently, occasionally kicking at someone else if their feet accidentally knocked against each other. Jay got a little too aggressive in one of his attempts and nearly knocked Lloyd off the balcony for the second time that night. Lloyd shot him a glare, and Jay at least had the sense to look sheepish.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” Jay murmured after a while. “Just the three of us, standing out in the rain, watching the storm.”

Lloyd sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s been a long couple of years.”

“You can say that again,” Nya agreed.

They fell silent again, and Lloyd felt bad for pitching the air into a grim mood. He was struggling to think of something more lighthearted to say, when Jay suddenly spoke up.

“So… about the princess…”

Lloyd immediately changed his mind. The grim mood was fine.

“What about her,” he mumbled, even as he felt his face turn cherry red.

“Oh, he totally likes her,” Jay gushed, reaching a hand behind his back to give Nya a gentle shove in the shoulder. “I told you!”

Nya snorted. “Have you even talked to her yet?”

“A bit,” he insisted, indignantly. Then, realizing he had answered too defensively, he quickly amended, “But it’s not like that.”

“Suuure,” Jay laughed. “That’s what they all say at the beginning.”

“She’s the princess! Even if I did have feelings for her, it’s not like something could ever work between us.”

“Yeah,” Nya agreed. “The stuffy, rich type? Not a fan. She’s probably not good enough for you. You can do better.”

“What?” Lloyd sputtered. “No, that’s not what I meant- not like that! I mean, she’s not like that!”

Jay snickered at how flustered he was getting, and Lloyd elbowed him in the ribs.

“How do you know? You’ve known her for like, what, a day?”

“Ooh, she got you there, green machine.”

Jay’s remark earned him another jab in the ribs, and he yelped. “Would you stop doing that?”

Lloyd ignored him. “It’s not like you’ve known her any longer than I have. You have no more idea what she’s like than I do.”

Nya shrugged. “All I’m saying is that she’d have to be one hell of a girl to even come close to being worthy of you.”

“Nya!” Lloyd cried, ducking his head as both of his friends went for a hair ruffle. “Stop it, you guys! I’m not a little kid anymore!”

“You’re right, you’re not,” Nya sighed. “I could hardly believe my eyes when I got back from searching for Master Wu. You were a good two inches taller than the last time I saw you, at least, and your hair was longer, done differently-” “Don’t forget his deep, manly voice,” Jay chimed in. “I’m so upset I missed the voice cracking phase!”

“I’m not,” Lloyd muttered.

“Jay, look at this boy,” Nya gushed, grabbing Lloyd’s face between her hands. “Can you believe this is the nine-year-old we snatched up off the street all those years ago?” “Never in a million years,” Jay laughed. “Look how handsome he’s gotten.”

“Guys!” Lloyd cried, pulling away from them. “Stop being embarrassing!”

“Lloyd, you’re our baby brother,” Jay teased. “It’s our job to embarrass you.”

Both of his friends leaned against him, laughing- only to jerk back a moment later with a yelp.

“Lloyd!” Jay shrieked. “What was that?”

Lloyd blinked at him. “What was what?”

“Didn’t you feel that?” Nya stared at him with wide eyes. “It was like we were shocked or something!”

“Oh.” Lloyd lifted his hands up from where they were resting on the railing, holding them up for Jay and Nya to see- revealing the small zaps of green energy sparking from them, occasionally arcing between his fingers. “I guess that was me. Sorry.”

Jay blinked owlishly at his hands. “What the… you’re not doing that on purpose, are you?”

Lloyd shook his head. “It’s happened before, while you guys were gone. I think it has to do with the storm.”

“Your powers really are getting stronger,” Jay murmured, taking one of Lloyd’s hands- prepared for the small shock this time- and examining it.

“And your eyes,” Nya breathed.

They both looked at her. “What about them?” Lloyd asked.

“They’re flickering.”

“What?”

“Lemme see.” Lloyd turned his head to look at Jay, and the blue ninja sucked in his breath. “They are.”

Lloyd frowned. “That is new.”

“It’s cool,” Jay gushed. “I wish I could do that.”

Lloyd shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s really that great. Now I can accidentally shock all my friends, hooray.”

“But think of using it on enemies! You’d be like, a human taser!”

“Jay, you’re our human taser.”

He grinned. “Oh. Right.”

“It does look pretty cool,” Nya admitted. “Kind of like those glow-in-the-dark star things you would stick on your ceiling as a kid.”

“I had some of those!” Jay yelped. “They were awesome.”

“Of course you did.” Nya rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I wanted some, but we never really had a budget for it, so I checked out some star atlases from the library instead.”

“When did your eyes turn green, by the way,” Jay asked. “I had gotten so used to them being red.”

Lloyd shrugged. “I dunno, sometime while you were gone, I guess. I wasn’t really keeping track of the days.”

“How convenient for you.” Jay poked a finger near his eye. “Are you sure these aren’t just colored contacts? Is someone trying to bluff about his powers?”

“Jay!” Lloyd suddenly tried to lurch towards him, but he felt something grab him from behind.

“Run, Jay! I can’t hold him back forever!” “No one’s holding me back!” he muttered at her, but Jay was already vanishing over the roof’s peak, nothing but a blur of blue on the dark night sky.

“This isn’t over, Jay! No one calls me a fraud and gets away with it!”

“Settle down, Killer,” Nya giggled. “You know when you’ve been bested.”

“But I’m the green ninja,” Lloyd pouted.

“Yes, and you’re also the baby.”

“Am not!”

“Are so! Now, get to bed. It’s late, and you don’t want to be too tired to guard the princess tomorrow.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m too old for bedtimes. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Maybe not, but you’re going to listen to me anyway.” Darting forward, she snuck in a quick hair ruffle before darting up onto the roof.

“That’s only because I care about the princess’s safety!” he called after her.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Before Lloyd could reply, the thunder boomed loudly, drowning him out, and by the time it passed, she was gone.

“Traitor storm,” Lloyd muttered, and the sky rumbled cheerily back at him.

---

The rain was heavy that night, so much so that Nya was soaked within seconds, her long, black strands of hair sopping wet, the dampness causing the ends to curl. Her dirty, worn, battle-stained gi was plastered to her skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

After all, how could such a small discomfort even hold a candle to the scalding pain in her chest?

How could any of this had happened? How could she just have gotten Lloyd back from the icy grips of death, only to lose everyone else to those same, prying hands?

She hadn’t wanted to believe it. When Lloyd had come back, soaking wet and shivering from the rain, the most defeated look on his face Nya had ever seen in her life-

She had been angry with him, at first. How could he tell her something like that? How could he send her whole world crashing down with a single sentence? How could he have watched as everything had gone so wrong? She had known that it wasn’t his fault, not at all. But she hadn’t known what she was feeling or how she had been supposed to handle it.

And as quickly as it had come, the anger had vanished, giving in to horrible, nauseating despair. They were gone. They were really gone.

She had hugged Lloyd tight, crying into him until Misako and Pixal had dragged them away, bringing them to a small, abandoned warehouse where they had spent the night. And the next night. And the next.

Not that time really felt to be passing anymore. It was so quiet, with only her, Lloyd, Pixal, Misako, and Dareth- and Pixal and Lloyd had hardly spoken a word, to her or anyone, since that night.

She knew they were grieving too- but maybe the thing they all needed most right now was someone to talk to.

She tilted her face up slightly, letting the raindrops slip down her face and mingle with her tears, washing them away.

“You shouldn’t be up here.”

Nya glanced over her shoulder, letting out her breath. “Lloyd.”

“We’re trying to stay hidden, remember? We can’t risk standing up here and being spotted by the Colossus or the Sons of Garmadon. You should come inside.”

“I will in a minute.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of rain splashing against the concrete and the distant rumble of thunder between them.

“Come here,” Nya waved at the empty space beside her. “Watch the storm with me.”

Lloyd hugged his arms over his chest. “Nya, we really shouldn’t be up here.”

“Just do it for a minute. Then we’ll go inside, I promise.”

Lloyd sighed, before reluctantly walking over to join her, resting his elbows on the railing of the rooftop terrace. The view of the storm wasn’t anything special from here- in fact, it was rather poor, with several tall buildings blotting out the view of the sky- but they weren’t really in a situation to be picky.

She liked this better, anyway- looking directly at the storm would be too painful.

“How can you do it?”

Lloyd’s voice startled her- based on the way the last couple days had been going, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her unless absolutely necessary.

“What?”

Lloyd grimaced, as if he was anxious to elaborate. “Why do you still want to be out here? Why do you still want to watch the storm?” He dropped his gaze, carefully avoiding her as his voice faded to a soft whisper. “Everything just reminds me of them.”

Nya turned her gaze back towards the city. “Exactly, it reminds me of him.” Softer, she added, “It’s all I have left.”

Lloyd was quiet for a long time after that, and when she finally turned her gaze back to him, his eyes were hard. Pushing back from the railing and blinking back tears, he snapped, “Jay’s gone. Forever. They all are.”

Before she could respond, he was darting back inside, and Nya put her head down, sighing.

Jay, I wish you were here. You would know how to make him feel better.

But he wasn’t. Lloyd was right, they were gone. All he had right now was Nya, and, standing there, drenched and shivering and pathetic, she wasn’t sure how much help she could really be to anyone.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Nya glanced up. She hoped, if he wouldn’t listen to anyone else, he would at least listen to the storm.

---

Three pairs of footsteps drummed against the deck of the Destiny’s Bounty. Jay leaned his head over, letting the wind blow his wet curls, as he whooped happily, his cry echoing in the night air.

“Aww, girl, it’s so good to have you back,” he sighed dreamily, brushing the side of the ship with his hand.

Lloyd grinned at him, rolling his eyes. “Alright, Jay, we’re as happy as you are to have the Bounty back, but don’t make this weird.”

“He’s just anxious for the next repair,” Nya laughed. “He’s been driving me crazy trying to fix random things around the Monastery. The training bots, the mechs, even the toaster. And nothing’s even broken! He’s just making it worse.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault there’s nothing for me to do! I’m not just going to sit around and do nothing.”

“Well, hopefully, she won’t need any fixing for a long, long time,” Lloyd said. “The Bounty’s been damaged enough to last a lifetime. After the Colossus, I thought she was gone for good.”

“I know,” Nya agreed. “I’m so impressed that the city was able to rebuild it exactly the same!”

“Well, I’m sure it’s not exactly the same,” Jay argued. “There’s gotta be some issue somewhere, right? Something I can fix?” Nya waved a hand at him, laughing. “Don’t worry, Jay. We’ll find something for you to do.”

“Well, it will have to wait until later,” Lloyd announced, pointing towards the clouds in the distance that were sparking with lightning. “We’ve almost arrived at the storm!”

As they got closer, Nya locked in the steering, and the three of them headed towards the front of the ship as the Bounty sailed deeper into the storm.

Quickly, the rain began falling harder, and thunder echoed in their ears.

“Now this is how you stormgaze right!” Jay cried, laughing as rain fell on his face and lightning illuminated his bright blue eyes, his powers sparking between his fingers.

Glancing back at Lloyd and Nya, he saw both were sporting large grins. Lloyd was also sparking, his green eyes glowing, and as Nya reached her arms out, raindrops swirled around her.

After a bit of the adrenaline had worn off, Lloyd leaned against the railing of the Bounty, throwing his head back to toss the strands of wet hair out of his face.

“The others are not going to be happy about us taking the Bounty for a joyride right through a storm when they’re trying to sleep,” he laughed.

“It’ll be the last time they sleep in the Bounty for a while,” Nya agreed. “I bet they’re wishing they decided to stay back at the much more peaceful Monastery right about now.”

Jay put a hand over his mouth, sniggering. “I bet we only have like five minutes before Kai comes storming out here, demanding that we turn the ship around this instant.”

Lloyd shot him a sharp grin. “No, he’d never want to come out here and get all wet.”

Nya giggled. “Yeah, he’ll just stare at us through the windows, giving us death glares.”

Lloyd choked so violently that he doubled over, grabbing onto Nya’s shoulder for support. The water ninja tried to help him, but she was laughing hard herself. Jay grinned at them, struggling to breathe in between laughs.

“Can… you… imagine… the look on his face?” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

The hair standing up on the back of his neck was the only warning Jay had before a lightning bolt whizzed down less than ten feet away from him.

Shrieks sounded from the others as they leapt back, just as the edge of the Bounty burst into flames. Nya quickly directed two jets of water at the fire as Lloyd and Jay scrambled out of her way. When the last spark was gone, she stopped, breathing heavy, staring at the burnt area in shock.

Suddenly, she whipped around, glaring at him. “What the heck, Jay? You were supposed to be warding off the lightning!”

“It’s not my fault!” he shrieked. “You’re the one who distracted me!”

While the two of them shot each other smoldering glares, Lloyd walked over to one of the storage crates being kept on the deck, and pushed it over to the burned area, trying to cover up the charred floor the lightning had left.

“If one of us gets struck by lightning,” Nya warned, “Zane will never let us outside again.”

Jay waved her off. “It’s fine. I’m probably like, immune to lightning or something, and I’m willing to bet Lloyd is too, since he’s shown connections to my powers and the storms in the past. So long as you don’t get struck, we’re probably fine.”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

“Yeah, Jay,” Lloyd agreed, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s a few too many ‘probablys’ in that statement for my liking.”

“Oh, come on,” he grinned. “I’ve already got Zane and Cole on my back about everything 24/7. You guys are supposed to be the fun ones!”

“Hey,” Nya said, “I’m not making you do anything. You’re a young man. You can do what you want. Just don’t blame me if you end up comatose in the medbay because your brain got fried by lightning.”

“That would be ironic,” Lloyd snorted, and Jay elbowed him.

“You’d at least visit me, right?”

Nya shrugged. “Maybe. If you were stupid enough to get struck by lightning, I don’t know if you’d deserve that.”

Lloyd laughed. “Better luck next time, buddy.”

“You shut up. You could jump off the side of the ship right now, and she’d spend a week crying over you.”

Nya bit back a smile. “Maybe. But don’t,” she added quickly, pointing a finger at Lloyd.

He stared at her incredulously. “How dumb do you think I am?”

“Mmm… depends on the day.”

Jay burst into laughter, and Lloyd shot him a glare. “Thanks, Nya. That was a rhetorical question, by the way.”

“If you didn’t want an answer, you shouldn’t have asked the question.”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Nya stuck hers back. Jay laughed, elbowing her. “Real mature. I’d expect that kind of thing from Lloyd-”

“Hey!”

“But you?”

“Like you’re any better yourself, sparky. Don’t you still sleep with that weird zebra thing-”

“His name is Mister Cuddlywomp, and he’s a bear-”

“Guys!”

“What, Lloyd?” Jay snapped, turning towards him. “Can’t you see- woah.”

Lloyd was pointing towards the horizon. Dark clouds formed in swirling shapes, gently disturbed by the winds of the storm. Arcs of lightning flashed between them in an almost rhythmic fashion, casting a gentle light on the clouds that made them appear to glow. It was like something out of a fantasy.

“Holy crap,” Nya breathed. “It’s beautiful. How lucky is it that we get to see this?”

“It’s because we’re willing to come out so late,” Lloyd smiled, bumping against her shoulder lightly. “The others may be warm, dry, and cozy in their beds, but they’re missing out on this natural beauty.”

“Their loss,” Jay said. “It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. And we’ve been all around Ninjago- even in different realms- so that’s saying a lot.”

“That’s okay,” Lloyd murmured. “I like doing this, just the three of us.” He glanced at them. “It’s our thing, y’know?”

“Aww, Lloyd,” Nya smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s our thing.”

“It’s special, in a way the others wouldn’t understand.” Jay beamed at him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “I wouldn’t trade these moments for the world.”

[redrobin-detective]

Starlit Vigil

Dannymay Day 4: Stars _____________________________

Everything has a story to it, a tale interwoven into it’s very being from it’s birth to it’s death. Sometimes the mystery of the story is as much a story in and of itself. 

Scientists and researchers can’t say when the constellation first appeared in the night sky. It could be seen above Antarctica, near where the edge of the continent meets the Indian Ocean. It confounded a great many people as stars simply didn’t appear out of nowhere. But these did, slowly over the course of several decades sometimes years apart but two appeared within hours of each other. Each new star, eight in total, had a glistening, almost unnatural twinkle to them. The constellation was named Mnemosyne after the Grecian goddess of memory and the stars eight of her nine daughters, better known as the Muses. 

You’ve always had your eyes turned towards the stars and Mnemosyne in particular had always captured your attention. You can’t really explain what it is about those stars that speak to you. Maybe it’s sheer impossibility of their existence. Perhaps it’s the particular beauty of these stars, sometimes appearing to shift in shape and change colors. Or it could be the story behind the stars, the mystery that couldn’t be solved and so imagination filled in the holes left behind.

They say there was a great king, hundreds of years ago. A king who was powerful and kind and helped create the world as we know it. The land of the dead exists and certain people can interact with those beyond it. Technology and understanding have advanced dramatically and, while no life would ever be perfect, there was a general sense of peace that could felt in this world and the next. This king loved our world so much it’s said he plucked the greatest jewels he could find and placed them in the stars where he could watch over and cherish them forever. It’s a sentiment you can understand. 

You study astronomy in school and when you’re given a chance to travel to the Antarctic Circle to study Mnemosyne, you can’t say yes fast enough. The bitter cold and isolation is a small price to pay to see your favorite constellation up close. Maybe when you see it with your own eyes, you can unravel some of the questions people have been asking over the years. Why the goddess of Memory? Why are the stars named after the Muses but missing the muse of astronomy, Urania? What is the true story behind the supernaturally bright stars that appeared out of nowhere?

It’s hard to sleep during the day, partially because it goes against your normal circadian rhythm but you’re also too excited for night to come. For the stars to come out. You bundle up in the warmest clothes, pack your cameras and notebooks and throw the highest quality telescope you can carry over your shoulder. Arriving at the best site for star gazing, you are so delighted by the clear skies and sparkling stars that it takes you an extra moment to realize that you’re not alone.

At first, you think it’s one of the many researchers conducting studies at the pole but it’s soon apparent that this is someone new. Their hair is stark white, almost appearing one with the blustering wind as it’s blown around. You can’t see what they’re wearing because a thick white cape covers them entirely; it has the consistency of freshly fallen snow. Atop their head floats a crown made of pure, crystalline ice. Your eyes widen behind your protective goggles. The existence of ghosts was common knowledge by now but it’s another thing to see one up close. You turn to leave, before the spirit notices you.

“Don’t leave,” he says quietly but despite the roaring of the wind, you can hear him perfectly clear. “You came to watch the stars too, I don’t mind. Mnemosyne is my favorite.”

“Mine too,” you say back without even thinking. “I would love to know their stories.” The ghost turns to smile at you and his eyes are a bright, glowing green without any pupils or sclera. 

“Come, I’ll tell you about them.” You know you shouldn’t. While most spirits aren’t malicious, this one exudes a power you can’t even imagine. But you find yourself stepping closer anyway. You want to hear the stories of the stars and his smile is the warmest thing you’ll find for miles. Somehow you know this ghost won’t harm you. He points up at Mnemosyne and your twin gazes stare up in wonder. 

“They say souls and stars are made of the same ingredients. When I was a boy, I loved this thought. There was something comforting in knowing that, no matter where I went, that I could carry the stars within me,” the ghost explains, looking at you joyfully. 

“But unlike stars, souls are mortal, impermanent,” he says, his smile turning sad. “So I thought, why not put a soul into a star? Then it could last for eons.” He turns back to the stars with a melancholic expression. “Danielle was the first, my little sister. She was always fragile and after only a decade of life, one day she just broke. Her core was too damaged to become a full ghost so I offered her another way to live on. I took the brightness of her smile and made it into a star, into Euterpe. She was the muse of lyrics and poetry, they say she was the ‘bringer of delight’. It suited Danielle.”

“My enemy died next,” the ghost continues. “He hurt me and, moreover, hurt the ones I loved. But he was the only one who truly understood me. His existence comforted me no matter how much bad blood existed between us. His life was full of misfortune, most of it self-inflicted but his fear of death pulled on my heart. My last move in our battle was to make him a star as well, Melpomene, the muse of tragedy. I put him far away from Danielle, I think he’d hurt her.”

“My parents passed a few decades later,” the ghost whispers. “Mom went first, in her sleep. Dad always followed her example so it wasn’t a surprise when Dad followed her in death before the day was done. They were scientists, I think but they loved me very much. Things were tense, I remember being afraid for some reason but their deaths pained me. They were too fulfilled to become ghosts. I grabbed bits of their essence before it dissipated and made the stars Polyhymnia and Terpsichore, the muses of hymns and dance respectively. They were a perfect couple, partners in everything. A song and a dance, always in time with each other.”

The wind rustles the ghost’s cape, he clutches it as if he is cold. You cannot tear your eyes from the the soft grief on his face. 

“Valerie went next, some sort of illness; I can’t remember the details,” the ghost frowned. “She had no desire to become a ghost, no matter how much I asked her to stay. I am King of All Ghosts and yet I got on my knees and begged for some part of her to keep with me. In the end, I stole a bit of her fading spirit and crafted Calliope, the assertive muse, the author of epic poetry. She shines so brightly up there like she had in life.”

“Jasmine died peacefully in her sleep like our mother. She was always protecting me, even in death. Her devotion to knowledge and my wellbeing kept her by my side for many years but it wasn’t enough to last forever. When her spirit was nothing more than wisps, I took her core and placed Clio with the rest of our family. The muse of history, the proclaimer of great deeds fit my older sister well.”

“Tucker and Sam stayed with me the longest. Tucker went first, a quick death from an aged body followed by years as the playful spirit I always knew him as. Sam, my life and my love, passed the same and was my queen in death as she’d been in life. But love can delay death but not deny it and their spirits needed to move on. I kissed them both, my soulmates and made them into stars. Thalia, the muse of comedy and idyllic poems for the light Tucker brought to me. Erato for Sam, muse of love and its poetry for all that she inspired and gave me.”

You see glowing tears running down his face, he holds his hands out to the night sky. His fingers are curved as if wanting to reach and tenderly brush the faces of people long gone. Only they’re not gone completely. You look at the stars with a newfound appreciation. They are no longer pinpricks of long dead light but people who lived and died and yet still lived on in such beauty. If you look closely, you can almost see them. Brushes of red hair, dark rugged skin, the glint of glasses, a flash of amethyst eyes. 

“There’s no Urania,” you say quietly, the wind tossing them. 

“Not yet,” he says longingly, “but soon. The Zone and the Earth are at peace, they won’t need my protection for much longer. When that happens, my spirit will leave this world and join my loved ones in the stars as Urania.” This ghost has been dead for longer than you’ve been alive, longer than many of your most recent ancestors. But his love can still be felt, still burns high above in the sky for everyone to see. What better eternity is there?

“May I tell their story?” You ask and he only nods in response, not taking his eyes off Mnemosyne. You get the feeling he has forgotten about you, caught up in the light of his loved ones shining down on him, waiting. All at once, you realize how late it is, how cold. You leave to return to the research shelter, to write the history of the miracle constellation. 

The stars made out of souls, crafted by love.

Twelve years later, you are not surprised when you look up and see a ninth star in the constellation of Mnemosyne. It glows brightly, twinkling with the other muses as if in conversation. You can only smile through your tears, so profoundly happy that Urania’s lonely vigil is finally over and they have assumed their rightful place among the stars.