#he has the strongest support system he's probably ever had and he's never felt more like he's letting them down :(

[starheirxero]

I don't usually talk about the mgafs, but like-

Bloodmoon has a bomb in their head now- First Lunar, then Eclipse, and now Bloodmoon…it really went full circle- The parallels continue to drive me insane/pos-

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK, DID THE CREATOR KILL A BUNCH OF KIDS?? WHERE DID ANDREW AND JAKE COME FROM??? ARE THEY HIS SONS??👀 ARE THEY JUST TWO RANDOM CHILDREN???

The Laes episode was also just-

Jesus, Sun really needs this! He sounds so tired, so unsure… He has been through everything, and just when he thought, they got through the worst of it, shits hitting the fan so damn fast, he isn't able to process it!

He seems to become rather numb to it. I have seen someone point out, that it could be survivor's guilt, which does make sense. He has seen so much death, both before, and after the separation, and now it's involving people he cares for.

Lunar died, someone who moved out, after Sun yelled at them, likely leading him to blaming himself. Old Moon passed, something he has blamed himself for, I'm pretty sure.

And now it's Solar. This time, Sun simply took the time to relax, to move into the background and leave things be, which now makes him feel as though he didn't do enough, didn't help enough, when in reality, he shouldn't have to. It has just become such a norm to stay on guard for them all, that it feels wrong to take a breather!

I can imagine there being guilt, after living through so many deaths, and being the last one standing. Beside Earth, of course!

There might also be guilt, for not grieving as much as the rest of them🤔 He wasn't as close to Solar, and while he did care, and does grieve, he feels as though he's not feeling enough. Sun has grown so damn weary, he's just kinda going through the motions.

Everyone in this family needs a big vacation, and a lifelong break!

-Stardust

I KNOWWW the way I immediately went !!! at Bloodmoon getting planted w/ a bomb in the same fashion as Lunar n Eclipse. I am UNWELL.

AND THE WHOLE DEAL WITH THE STITCHWRAITH YEA OMG. WHAT IS UP WITH THAT!!!! I think any possible option here is just varying levels of "oh right the Creator is a wretched little man" LMAO 😭

AND SUN AOUGH YEA :( I noticed that he sounded kinda distant too and I was just like aoaughhh... poor boy. It absolutely reads as survivors guilt and that honestly just breaks my heart. I feel like a lotta people worry that Sun has yet to be effected by the celestial family curse, but honestly it makes just as much sense if it never hits him and he's just left with the weight of years on his back, yk???

AND YEA oms I didn't even think about the fact he'd feel bad for taking a step bacl bc he's so used to helping however he could with the Current Events. But now he's just chilling and it feels like he's not being "useful enough" :((( UGH that's so sad. I am SO seconding the vacation and lifelong break </3

[babybottlepop96]

Someone to Love (Sai x Shikamaru) 18+ Only

Warning: Smut, minors DNI, cheating, breakups, getting drunk, I think that’s it?

A/n: I just really had this idea in my head and ShikaSai is like a rare pair that I really enjoy. So here you go.

“Sai, what do you mean by ‘You're not interested anymore?’” Ino asked her husband of the last four years, the father to her child, the man she had fallen for when they were teenagers. He simply looked at her, sitting in their shared bed, hair a mess, eyes turning red with all the tears she refused to let fall. He knew this would be hard, he knew this would hurt her so badly, but during the last few years he had grown more as an emotional person. Realizing that he simply didn’t love her as he thought he did. He tried, he really did. The learning experience he gained from his readings and interactions and watching his friends who acted truly in love with their partners or spouse had been nothing but hard for him as well. Seeing how Naruto and Hinata looked at each other, how TenTen and Shino shared soft touches when out on a date, even how Kiba and his partner would play with Akamaru and have a great time. He came to the understanding that he didn’t get those feelings when he was his wife. He realized he never actually did, it was a facade, an illusion he created to feel more human, to fit in with normal society. He wanted to feel that way, he tried everything in his power to feel the love and passion in his relationship with Ino. To put the same energy into this like Ino has done.

“I mean, I don’t love you the same way you love me, Ino.” He sighed as he looked at the floor, wishing he didn’t have to do this. 

“After all these years? After all we have been through together? What about Inojin?” She asked, her heart breaking with every passing second he sat there, feeling further and further away from the man she married.

“Ino, I can’t keep pretending that I’m in love with you. Maybe I was at one point in time, but I can’t be certain. I also can’t let us still be a thing just for the sake of it, that's not fair to you, me or our son. You deserve someone who can make your world brighter, who can give you the same love and energy you give. I’m just not capable of it, I’ve tried. God, I tried. I tried so hard to give you what you rightly deserve from a husband. But, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Sai spoke, voice cracking slightly due to the emotional state he was also putting himself through. “I’ll still be a part of Inojin’s life. He is still my son, I’ll still be a part of your life as a friend, if you still want me to. But I think, this is what we have to do, if we ever want to be truly happy.” He looked at her this time, her bed head shaking softly and eyes shut trying to suppress any loud sobs from escaping, fear of waking up her sleeping child a few doors down.

“I understand, Sai.” She said, voice barely above a whisper, scratchy from being woken up in the early hours of the morning and the force she had to use to keep herself from fully breaking down in the moment. She understood his point, in fact, she thinks it was the bravest, kindest thing she ever heard, but that doesn’t make the fact that he was leaving her hurt any less. She loved the clueless man with all her heart. She wanted him to stay, but agreed to the unfairness and selfishness that would be if she asked him to stay. No more words were said as Sai stood, grabbing a bag to stuff some clothes and other necessities in. No words were spoken as Sai exited their once shared bedroom to stroll a few doors down to their son’s room. Sneaking in and giving his son a kiss to the forehead. A silent goodbye for now. And not  noise was made as Sai removed himself from the only actual home he had ever known. Leaving behind the shattered heart of his once lover. 

‘I’m doing this for all of us.’ He thought to himself as strolled through the empty streets of Konoha, heading to the inn on the other side of the village. After purchasing a room for a few nights, Sai decided he needed to stop thinking for a bit. Deciding to stop by the bar he passed by earlier, he needs to drown out the events of the last couple hours. Sitting at the bar, he ordered a glass of their strongest liquor.

~~~

“What the actual fuck, Temari?!” Shikamaru spoke loudly outside his home, his wife standing there, eyes wide and red from crying. Shikamaru had a lit cigarette hanging between his lips, hand running through his hair, loosening the neat ponytail he always wore. 

“I’m sorry Shika!” She spoke, voice cracking every other syllable. 

“You're sorry?! How long has this been going on?!” He spoke, trying to keep his own tears at bay.

“A few months.” She spoke honestly, voice quiet as she looked at the grass beneath her bare feet, wrapping her robe around her frame tighter to keep the chilly night air from nipping at the bare skin.

“A few months.” He spoke to himself in disbelief. 

“You're never home anymore! Shikadai keeps asking where his daddy is and I have to keep explaining to him that you're at work! He wants his daddy! I wanted my husband! But your always fucking working!” She cried, body physically shaking with anger and grief. 

“So you thought it would be better to cheat on me instead of just telling me all this?! I have to work to provide for us! I’m the hokage’s right hand man! My job takes up a lot of my time! You knew this before we even got together, Temari!” He took another long drag from his cigarette, pacing in his yard. Temari didn’t say another word as the two stood in the tension filled air, the weight of everything settling in like a four hundred pound weight on their shoulders. “Did nothing in our years together mean nothing?” He whispered.

“Of course it did! Shika, I love you! I love you so much!”

“Then what is the real reason you cheated?” He looked her straight in the eyes, wanting the honest, unfiltered answer.

“I needed someone to satisfy me, touch me, give to me the needs a woman wants from her husband.” She spoke harshly. He knew what she meant, she wanted to have someone who could be there for her, to be there touch her with soft caresses and gentle kisses. Something he barely did anymore due to the amount of work he had to do. He understood what she meant.

“But you didn’t have to go behind my back and betray my trust, Temari.” He turned around and left. He couldn’t be there right now, his heart cracking with every step he took away from his home. Walking past a bar, Shikamaru thought he deserved some drinks, drowning out the numb feeling that took over his body. As Shikamaru drank, a familiar face appeared a few seats down. Face looking just as sorrowful as his own probably looked. “Hey, Sai.”

Sai turned to look at Shikamaru, “Oh, Hello Shikamaru.” He faked a smile at his wife’s… ex-wife’s teammate. “What brings you here?” He asked, making his way to his friend after his drink was placed in his hands. 

“Wife cheated on me, so I came here to drown out my sorrows with some good ol’ fashion painkiller.” Shikamaru chuckled darkly. “You?” He asked, taking a sip from his own glass.

“I broke things off with Ino, couldn’t let either of us stay in the relationship if it was only one sided.”

“She cheated?”

“No, I just came to learn that I don’t reciprocate the same feelings she does.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry man”

“Don’t be, I’m sorry about your situation as well. From what I read, cheating isn’t a good thing.” Sai sipped his drink. Shikamaru chuckled slightly at his friend, still the same Sai he met years ago. But he was older, more mature, better at understanding feelings. He grew into a handsome young man. The two drank more together, little by little, the two began to forget about their home troubles as more and more alcohol filled their systems. By the time the bar closed, both men were hammered, drunk off their asses as they stumbled against each other down the dirt streets of Konoha. “D-do you have a p-place to sleeeeeeeeeep?” A very drunk Sai asked and equally drunk Shikamaru.

“Oooooh fuuuuuuck. N-no!” Both men laughed holding onto each other for support. 

“Come back to my room th-then.” Sai smiled and Shikamaru nodded quickly. Both men finally got to the room Sai had rented, both falling backwards onto the soft bed, sinking against it slowly. “I...I wish I could find someone like you Shika. I.. I mean… You’re a hardworking person. Like… like you're just so pretty too. Like a duck. Ducks are pretty SHikamaru.” Shikamaru couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wish I could find someone like you too. Don’t expect to be constantly followed around like a lost puppy. You...you are also pretty. But like… like a um.. What are those things with feathers? The things with two legs?”

“A peacock?”

“No.. no.. It’s.. it's like a cow… but not a cow.”

“Penguin?”

“YES! THAT!” The two burst into fits of giggles. After they calmed down, they just stared at each other, eyes locking intensely to each other. Neither moved nor said a word. 

Suddenly, lips collided and hands grabbed at anything and everything they could find. Hair, limbs, the bedsheets. It was the most intoxicating thing either have experienced in so long. They felt electricity coursing through their veins that were once filled with grief and sorrow. Every touch sent heat compared to a fire everywhere they went. Clothes were discarded and thrown around the room, neither caring where they went or if they would be able to find them later. Sai was lying on top, forearms resting on either side of Shikamaru’s head. The man underneath had his hands in the other’s hair, slightly tugging to bring him closer. One of Sai’s hands slid down Shikamaru’s body, tracing and outlining every muscle until it came to the organ that needed the most attention.

His hand firmly gripped Shamaru’s cock, stroking it ever so gently. The small gasps and mewls Shikamaru let escape were swallowed by the other’s mouth, Sai’s tongue already winning the battle for dominance. With his other hand, Sai started to tease Shikamaru’s ass. Slender fingers running around the ring of muscle, lightly prodding the opening before slipping one in, already lubed from the small amount of natural lubricant that came from the tip of Shikmaru’s dick. “Oh, fuck!” Shikamaru gasped, mouth slight gaping at the unfamiliar intrusion. But he wasn’t about to complain, if he was being honest with his drunken self, he always felt something for the man on top of him. He just never realized it before, never fully cared to even consider the option. But here he was, letting himself get lost in the feeling of another man.

Sai entered another finger, scissoring the other open. Was this the feeling he wanted to so desperately give Ino? He didn’t know, but he did know that he liked whatever feeling this was. It was.. happy. Carefree. Addicting. He wanted more. He wanted to get drunk, not off more booze, but off the feeling Shikamaru gave him. He needed more.

He took out fingers, smiling slightly as the whimper that left Shikamaru’s swollen lips. He stared at the beauty of the man under him, eyes dark with lust. He aligned himself up with Shikamaru’s entrance. “I’ll be slow. I promise.” He spoke softly as he caressed the heated skin of Shikamaru’s cheek. He only got a nod in response as he slowly inched his way in. He read about using lube to help make things easier, but it seemed like neither cared at the moment, the slight burn actually felt good, maybe it was the drinks they had talking, but again, neither cared. They only relished in the feeling of one another, drinking in the blissed out faces each wore as Sai finally bottomed out. Both were still, letting each other adjust to the other. 

“Move.” Was the only thing Sai needed to hear to start thrusting his hips against Shikamaru’s. Both let out a groan at the feeling, becoming more intoxicated as the thrust kept getting faster and harder. The tip of Sai’s cock hit Shikamaru’s prostate, causing the man to let out a loud moan, causing Sai’s dick to twitch, it was like the world's most beautiful song, a song being played just for him.

“You sound.. So beautiful.. Shikamaru.” Sai grunted as he aimed for the same spot over and over again. 

“I.. I’mma… cum?!” Shikamaru moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He was so close, so terribly close it almost hurt. Sex with Temari was never this good, never this emotional, never this….. Free.

“Cum with me, Shika. Let me see your beautiful essence all over us.” Sai grunted, nearing his release as well. With one hand firmly planted on Shikamaru’s hip, the other went to vigorously pump his dick. Shikamaru came with a loud moan, Sai followed soon after, releasing his seed inside his friend. All movement ceased, the only sounds being the heavy breathing coming from the two men. Said pulled out and Shikamaru felt the cum seep from his ass and onto the blankets beneath him. The two looked at each other, both their eyes slowly closing. Sleep was finally taking over them, from the emotional night of heart beak, drinking and great sex, both closed their eyes, slightly snuggling against each other. Consequences can be damned till the time they woke up. Right now, everything was okay. They were at peace.

[thepeachgreentea]

this got Real Long Real Quick...

I wanna know more about Luka's soul song gift - like how much do emotions or personality play into it? ((I’m going with a lot)) Does it only work in person?? Or can he get like snippets from videos or vibes from pictures? Like it would make sense if it was only in person...... But where's the fun I'm that? Realistically it wouldn't be as strong as in person but I could see him getting some stuff. Pictures it probably wouldn't be a lot, or even much of anything, unless the soul song really didn't match the picture...

Which means Luka is one of the first people to realize something is Up with Adrien (and the Agrestes in general)

The ads around the city never felt right, never matched up with the snippets/vibes he was able to get - unless Adrien was supposed to be sad or melancholy. Which is... yikes...

Then the Adrien The Fragrance commercial happens. And that's an additional big Fucking Yikes

Like I can only imagine that Adrien isn't particularly big on modelling in general from what we've seen (with the Marinette-exception) so the filming of that could have only been Worse than normal. How many times did it take to get the emotions at the ‘right’ level? How long did it take to get the angles and all the action done?

Anyway: after the first time Luka literally cannot stomach watching it or even listening to it because it is so Wrong. The soul song snippets from the video are longer and more intense and it is just so discordant that Luka can't deal

Adrien is most certainly NOT feeling carefree. Or radiant. Or remotely dreamy. He's goddamn exhausted, frustrated, resigned, depressed, sweaty, anxious, awkward, stressed. It is a whole stew of (teen) angst offset with that upbeat music and the bright blue sky & all that w h i t e and the jumping for joy

It is such a strong dichotomy Luka has a visceral reaction every time and has to either leave the room or mute it and look away,

All of that means that after he meets Adrien in person, and gets to hear his soul song in a couple different situations and can see his emotions matching internally and externally he basically tells him they will always have space for him on the Liberty. (Also the first time he saw the LB + CN movie and heard Adrien's voice acting he only picked up some nerves - easily attributed to a new situation rather than a secret identity - but he was clearly enjoying himself even if it was a terrible script)

Therefore, Luka doesn't have particularly good feelings towards Gabriel, even before seeing any videos of him.

Style Queen was a Time. He was happy for Adrien but the bits he was getting from Gabriel were so rigid and tight... And rather selfish to boot. Which was weird given the situation

He has to try very very hard to not sneer or snarl at the tablet he first "meets" him on - probably at a Kitty Section practice or concert or at some class + family event.

I can also v easily picture him meeting him in person and being super uncomfortable at the sheer amount of manipulation and self-aggrandizing, selfishness, etc that rolls off of Gabriel, basically choking out his soul song. Either Lula barely refrains from punching Gabriel and manages to shake his hand but then desperately needs to clean his hands. Orrrr he does punch him and then basically coats his hands in sanitizer (either way he is Nino’s absolute favorite person for this alone)

Also, this would not be the first time Luka has figured out an abusive situation. It has happened with both his own and Juleka's friends & classmates. He is v much a protective older brother at heart

And because I damn well can have some Lila salt, some of which has been touched on before, unlike with Gabriel:

He had heard about her from Juleka and Kitty Section and was a bit confused about it but it wasn't until Rose was over and the girls were telling him about some of Lila's stories that he saw a picture of her.

And that was The Strongest he had ever reacted to a picture before: instant chills up his spine and an actual hiss escaped him

All 3 of them are shocked. Luka then has to explain that reaction as best as he can. Which is hard when you aren't great at words and while the soul song fragments are rather clear he would never make his guitar suffer trying to recreate them.

He manages tho and Julerose are at least wary of her afterwards. They start observing her more and a lot of her behavior and the way she talks can be very off-putting. They start noticing some of the digs that she makes at others, that she contradicts herself 5 different ways, and how she is constantly bringing the attention back to herself.

During all this they start noticing how both Marinette and Adrien react to her and it is Not Good. Mari gets defensive and will often try to bring up those contradictions that they started noticing. But jealousy is only a minor factor, at most. In certain situations it is possible that it could be involved... except those only happen when Adrien is looking very uncomfortable and Marinette notices or they make eye contact and then Marinette creates an opportunity for him to escape

Which is something that no one else is noticing which is really terrible and unhealthy...

Around this time is when Ivan has started to figure out something is up. and then he definitely knows when Julerose show Luka a video at a private band practice.

Because video and in person interactions make the BadBadBAD feelings worse and Ivan, while he often struggles with understanding & expressing emotions, has definitely noticed Lila - even though she is not actually there - causes a lot of stress and anxiety to Luka and he has gotten really good at methods of lessening those.

So, Luka sees the video with/of Lila and has an even stronger reaction than the picture before. His eyes get huge, and his face pales (gets slightly sickly?), and he hisses even stronger than the first time

He refuses to try to play her soul song because something like that is nearly impossible to recreate but also doesn’t need to be put out into the world but does his best to try and describe it

Possible: her soul song feels like it is drowning in toxic sludge - there is just so much negativeness that it is barely intelligible. It is being smothered by self-satisfaction and importance, narcissism, aggressive manipulation, pettiness, vile maliciousness, etc

In person interactions are awful. Luka avoids physical interaction as much as possible. Even more than he would with Gabriel, and he wants as little to do with that man as possible, ideally none. But Lila is worse...

There have been multiple times that he has had to step out/away to be able to get some fresh air and breathe again. At least once where he has been or almost has been sick - usually following a hug that he did not consent to or something similar

Ivan is definitely in the fold now, and Julerose share what they have noticed from taking their step back. He realizes he has noticed a lot of those same things but he wasn’t analyzing them and didn’t have the same context for them at the time that Luka, Juleka, and Rose did. But afterwards he picks up on them more clearly, and some other things they hadn’t - benefits of being one of the quiet kids (and a lesser target of Lila’s focus). He is part of the driving force in bringing Marinette and Adrien in first before going to others.

Marinette breaks down because more people believe her?? and support her and Adrien? it is a huge relief of tension. And she didn’t even have to convince them herself!! what a concept... but it is definitely a safe space for her and she can share her own experiences and that certainly is nice

they had all suspected Something was Up but weren’t expecting that so there are lots of hugs and tears and support and mutters of payback 

Adrien eventually cries because Kitty Section + Marinette give him a TedTalk about consent and personal autonomy. And now he has so many people (!!!) telling him he can say no and make his own choices, mistakes, and decisions. (Marinette’s part is largely “I told you so / do you believe us now?” because the Dupain-Chengs have probably already given this same talk as a family but that is just A family’s opinion, others probably think differently) And this is the first time he really truly believes it and... oooof there are a lot of emotions and interactions to unpack and reconsider

but now he knows he really needs to and that he can and should which is new, but so is having an actual support system...

Thus, Luka is ready to fight a bitch the first time he sees Lila and Adrien interacting. There is so much clinging and touching, and Adrien is panicking and no one is doing anything or is being waved off. And (unfortunately) this is one of the things that causes some people to start questioning things about Lila. Because most of them know of Luka as a really chill, laid-back guy who is open and accepting of people. and besides he has no reason to be jealous (((👀👀👀👀 too much to think about and unpack t h e r e))) so why would he be upset about Lila leaning on Adrien and holding his arm??

So, the questioning of Lila and what she says spreads out from Kitty Section and Adrinette to the rest of the class. They take a different approach. They slowly, carefully approach their classmates and take them aside when possible to talk about the situation

This allows them to be able to get their undivided attention and lay out what they have found out in a logical and cohesive manner, rather than attempting something rash or in the heat of the moment. Marinette grumbled about this method initially but when there were actual results and the burden was shared it was a huge relief for her.

In fact, others start coming to them about Lila.

because of the work of Kitty Section and Adrinette Lila’s audience has been steadily decreasing and it is getting easier to notice things. With a smaller audience the focus doesn’t get split as much and there are less questions for her to build off of or go on tangents from and the contradictions start standing out more, or she’s making more to try and keep them around her by holding their interest with different details

Plus, the comments about those outside Her Circle are getting meaner and more frequent. Usually they are still sneaky or underhanded but nowhere near as subtle as they were originally (were they ever, really?) and it is raising suspicions and hackles.

Eventually, Lila is left without an audience because the class has all been brought out of the cloud of manipulation and are working on trust and listening to each other more/better. and on how to not disregard other’s feelings (which is esp important with the high butterfly population in Paris, but is a v good life lesson in general). they are young and will make mistakes and will have to learn from them. but trials, growth, and change are all part of life so it is good for them.

But it essentially all stems from Luka and his ability to hear soul songs and reacting to those songs, or the lack thereof when they are being choked by evil intentions/emotions/actions/what have you

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Amnesia (Levi x Reader)

A/N: so my boyfriend and i just watched attack on titan again in prep for season 4 in a few months. We both fell in love with levi all over again so i had to write a little story for our little captain. Definitely angst, and probably ooc bc levi is not the romantic type. enjoy.

word count: 5530

Although he appeared stoic, fearless and unattached in almost all ways, Levi Ackerman had a heart burdened with layers of  scalding emotion constantly burning painful holes in his heart. The loss of a childhood to violence, found-family killed in front of his eyes, comrades falling victim to this unfair world over and over again. He was a hardened man drowning in regret. 

Yet, he could never find himself regretting Y/N. She was a woman of talent and skill, grace flowing through her every movement, despite being a skilled soldier. Her voice, when he first heard it, the words she summoned from deep in mind; he found himself hanging on her every word, watching her every step. He often found himself wondering if she would make a mistake and let down some sort of facade, yet she never broke character. 

To some, she could be seen as ignorant, perhaps too trusting or even a bit self-righteous. She was far from perfect, but to him, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a flaw in what he saw. It seemed that he would do anything for her, even when no one knew why. 

And as he lay in his cold bed alone at night, rewinds of old memories played time and time again, each and every night. They ruined his life just a little more each time, driving him near mad.

This night was no different.

_________________________________________

  “Y/N-san, oh my god. Wake up, shit,” Reiner begged the woman who he held in his arms. One second his squad leader was flying through the trees, slicing the neck of a 13 meter, the next she was tossed into a tree, rolling through the branches to the hard ground with a thud, blood seeping into the grass from her head. 

Sasha noticed Reiner hunched over a body on the ground, not having seen her leader fall victim to a titan. Her eyes widened at the blood and quickly went to his side. She nearly passed out at the sight of the woman she grew to know as a family. Reiner was frantic, pressing against the back of her head with her cloak, trying to stop the bleeding.

Tears gathered in Sasha’s eyes, despite having seen death before. “She has to be okay.” The young girl whispered, choking back sobs in her throat. She said it mostly to comfort herself, witnessing deaths time and time before just like this one. Hope just seemed so useless nowadays, just mourning.

He held his hand over her nose and felt soft breaths of air. Relief  flooded through him for just a moment as he gathered her close to him. Her crumbling body was limp, and he felt her arm move in an awkward way, definitely broken. He made sure to support that arm, placing it across her stomach.

“She’s dying, we have to get her to the medics, fuck,” Reiner cried, lifting her delicate body carefully in his strong arms. He hugged her head to his chest, and as he did so, it seemed like pints of blood seeped into his clothes and stuck to his skin. He shot off into the air, but Sasha couldn’t move from where she knelt, body almost limp. 

What if she died? What would they do then? Sasha was pretty sure Y/N was the only reason Levi maintained his temper at times. She was the person Hanji ran to tell about her experiments and the commander's only surviving childhood friend in the corps. Sure, Sasha would be hurt losing a leader she grew to trust, but what about the veteran soldiers. It had been years and years since they met, and they got attached. That’s what happens when everyone else dies and it seems like you just have one another to latch onto.

Dread filled her heart as they returned to the carts and gave Y/N over to one of the medics, who pressed something to her head and popped in one of her dislocated limbs. He was so casual, she thought. Anyone would turn that way working with dozens of injured soldiers every mission. The casualty of it all made it all the more depressing, even disturbing. 

“Will-will she be okay?”

“Hell if I know,” the boy confessed. “But we all better hope so.” Even though he failed to explain, both the cadets knew why.

Soldiers began pouring out of the forest on their gear or horses. Some carried the dead, while some carried pride for what they had done. No one paid mind to that particular medic cart. The medic opened her eyes and observed her condition, but that only made Sasha’s heart sink further. She was unresponsive to touch, just a limp body, nearly dead.

Heads turned at the distinct sound of blades falling to the ground. Levi landed beside the cart after seeing the mop of h/c hair lying in the cart. His eyes flashed to Reiner and Sasha for a moment, seeing the blood soaked clothes and tear-stained cheeks. 

For the first time in years, Levi felt his blood run cold in his veins and his heart to stop beating in his chest. Pain stabbed him in the stomach, feelings of throwing up his breakfast arose. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words got caught in his throat. He gasped for air before muttering hopelessly, maybe to himself or the cadets or even the woman herself lying half dead in the carriage.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Captain-”

His voice was weak, full of pain and fear. “Shut up.” No malintent, just a desperate need for silence among the horses trotting along and soldiers rejoicing the fact they made it out alive. He walked over to the cart and climbed in, his normally firm and strong hands shakily hovering over the woman’s cheeks, gently wiping the blood  from her lips and eyes.

For the first time, the cadets witnessed complete and utter fear and helplessness overtake their captain, the emotions of a broken man leaking past his wall of bravery. 

In that moment, Sasha realized that Y/N wasn’t hers to grieve. 

“Y/N, please…” he whimpered, running his fingers down her wet, bloody hair. ‘“M-my princess, please. I need you, please.” 

“Captain, she’s not dead. We just need to get her back to the wall and-”

“Will she live?”

“I’d stake my life on it, Captain Levi. Don’t you worry,” the medic, one who had only really heard of Levi by mouth, lied through his teeth. He was just a trainee. He had no idea what would happen to this woman, but one thing he did know was that in times of need people need comfort, and sometimes white lies can ease the pain.

_________________________________________

Levi and Erwin stood outside the doctor’s office as Y/N sat inside being tended to by a nurse. The doctor shut the door quietly, and joined the two men in the hall. His eyes were solemn and regretful, not wanting to look up at the two incredibly powerful military forces before him. 

“Why was she acting like that? I thought you said she would be healed by now,” Levi grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The blow to her head severely damaged her limbic system. I’m truly sorry to tell you, but she’s suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

Levi bit back an indecent curse, as Erwin spoke. “So, she can’t remember anything?”

“She still can function normally, but her memories are gone.”

“Everything?” Levi asked shortly, trying to stay calm. He hadn’t expected this after they’d heard of her waking from her coma. He thought that one month without her was long enough, but now it seemed the situation was much, much worse than any of them anticipated. 

“Unfortunately. She does remember a vague sense of the titans and the walls though.”

“What about people? Friends? Family?” Levi anxiously questioned, almost pleading with the doctor to say that she remembered him. Erwin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and sighed.  The doctor shook his head, and it only buried Levi deeper in his misery. How could she forget everything? 

How was it right that she could forget the years they spent together but he had to live with the memories, all the emotions unreciprocated? It was cruel for fate to do this to him.

Erwin asked finally, “Is there any chance of her regaining her memories?”

“Perhaps. Amnesia, anything involving the brain really, is a tricky matter. My guess is not likely, but there is always a chance.” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. “Would either of you like to sit and talk with her? Being around familiar things can boost memory in patients.”

They walked into the room calmly, and the woman peered up at them, a small smile gracing her lips. Levi felt his heart jump to his throat, and he had to swallow down his feelings. She was rightfully so the most beautiful human being to ever walk within the walls. Her smile, seeing it for the first time in so long, it made him so happy. If only this was a happy scene, though.

"Ah! Finally some visitors. All I've seen is nurses and doctors for the past what? Five hours?"

“”Hello, miss Y/N. I am Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps as well as your long time friend.”

“Really? How did I manage to be friends with someone so distinguished?” she laughed, but in all seriousness, she didn’t know. “They told me I was a great soldier, is that true? If anyone would know, it’d be you.”

“Great soldier, but might I say, greater friend.”

Her cheeks turned just the slightest bit of pink at the compliment. She smiled at her blankets. “Thanks. Hopefully I get to meet more of my old friends soon. Seems to me like I was quite popular.” Erwin nodded, moving to sit down in the chair beside her bed, revealing Levi behind him. The man was quiet, his eyes dancing around the room without meeting her gaze. “I’m guessing you’re a friend too-”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Levi-” Erwin started, but Y/n cut him off.

“They told me about you, Levi! Humanity’s strongest soldier, even better than me,” she laughed, sending him a playful wink. He winced at the sight of her smiling at him, her cheeks just a bit red from happiness. When she winked, he thought he might drop dead right there. Her beautiful eyes, the sparkle that they always held; he wanted them to be his again. “The nurse said you would visit me every morning and night while I was in the coma.”

“Yeah. Do...do you remember anything else about me?”

“Not right now, but the doc says I can get them back at any time.” Always so positive. If only he could think like that too.

The shorter man took a seat at the edge of her bed, staring down at the ring around his finger, twisting it back and forth. The gold was dull by now, he hadn’t polished it in a few months. Her eyes caught sight of the ring and she held back her questions about it.

“So, your name is Levi…”

“Ackerman.”

“Hmm, I see. And we were good friends?”

“Partners.”

She raised a brow, turning her head to Erwin, who nodded to assure she was assuming the right thing. He was certainly a handsome man, but she couldn’t see how someone so bubbly as her could be with someone so serious and quiet. He didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.

Y/N leaned over the edge of the bed to grab a small drawstring bag. “The doctor put all my belongings in this bag. Let me just..” Her swift fingers rummaged around for a few seconds before they enclosed a small, smooth piece of metal. “I’m guessing this is from you, huh?” she asked, pulling the sparkly ring from the bag. 

They had her look through her bag earlier to see if it would spark any memories, to no avail. Yet, she remained curious about the ring. 

“It’s very beautiful, thank you for giving it to me. Do you want it back while I’m-”

“No. Please,” he paused, taking a deep breath. He found himself pleading a lot more than usual these days. It was just sad. “Can you just wear it?”

She slipped the ring on her finger without hesitation. “Of course. I’m sure I loved you very much before the accident, Levi.”

Loved. That’s right. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t even know him. 

“Were we married?”

“Practically, but there’s no time for a wedding with our work schedules.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you again. Hopefully we can become close again soon.”

He frowned, nodding towards the ground. How could fate be this cruel to him? He stood up from the bed and left the room before anyone could stop him. This whole thing, seeing her, it was too much for him. He didn’t want to see her the way she was, and it broke his heart.

That day marked the single worst moment for Levi, above all else. Losing the love of his life.

___________________________________________

Five months later, and a lot of shit happened. But of course, Y/N still couldn't remember anything. He couldn’t do a thing but sit around bitterly, knowing that his lover was lost to him. Others tried to tell him to build their relationship again, but what was the point in that? Their love was built on circumstance: on the wall breaking, on the missions they protected each other, on the nights they spent talking about everything and nothing by the stables.They could never get that back, the same love she once had for him was gone.

He spoke to her, but he didn’t go out of his way to find her, to speak to her. He would rather keep to himself, and if that made him come across as harsh and cruel, then so be it.

He still felt the urge to protect her, the need to maintain what they once had, how he felt for her. He still protected her as if his life depended on it, and he would walk to the ends of the Earth before he saw her die. Yet, he couldn’t be sociable and comfortable like before.

That morning he woke up as usual, got dressed, went about his day, headed to the dining hall for dinner, and ate in silence if not for curses under his breath as he watched the love of his life talk it up with Erwin and Hanji, laughing and smiling as if he wasn’t right there. He knew Hanji could sense his eyes trailing to them with every sip of his tea, and she sent him a sympathetic look. 

The woman felt for her friend and comrade. For 6 years, she witnessed the pair fall in love despite trauma and differences they had. She was there countless times to see Levi lay his life on the line for her, and Y/N do the same for him. There was a change in Levi from the moment those two became friends to the very last day they had together. It made her sad. Love didn’t feel real without these two being there for each other.

Erwin wasn’t as adept, but he saw the pain in humanity’s greatest soldier. He loved Y/N, having known her since they attended training together. He was amazed she lived this long as well, having lost so many soldiers and friends along the way. She was different now. Lost in her own mind half the time, and unreliable on missions. 

But they had to keep waiting. Doctors, the best the walls had to offer, told them the chance of her memories coming back to her were close to zero, but not quite. If there was even a chance their friend would remember them some day, it wasn’t worth abandoning hope.

“Y/N, I totally forgot to tell you. You and Levi need to go check the horses. I think I left the stable door open, I’m not sure, haha,” Hanji rushed to say, wiggling her brows at Levi. She pushed Y/N out of her seat and stacked her plates for her to take to the dishwashers. “Sorry, but it’s just got to be checked.”

“Why does Levi have to-”

“Because you shouldn’t go out at night alone, obviously,” she explained, but stupidly. A soldier couldn’t go out on their own base alone. Y/N nodded obediently, but she really didn’t want to go, especially with him. She twisted the ring on her finger absentmindedly as her friend rushed her to exit the dining hall. Levi followed, but not without sending a twisted glare at the squad leader.

Y/N kept ahead of him, walking briskly as to get the job done quickly. Levi already knew she wasn’t happy going with him and that she generally disliked him. 

It wasn’t until they got to the stables and saw that the gates were in fact closed, locked up, and all the horses were as they should be. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me? She sent us out here for what? Her own amusement?” Y/N said, her voice raising just a bit. She was angry, just enough to put a lump in Levi’s stomach. Before the accident, she never got angry with him, or anyone else. She was just happy to contribute to the cause and help anyone she could, even if the task was as trivial as checking the stables. Y/N would have been happy to take a walk outside at night with Levi. 

In fact, they stood in the same spot they would hang out at night under the stars time and time again. He stared at her now, and wished to god that he could go back in time to when she would cuddle and kiss him under the moon and the stars here. He wanted her to tell him silly stories about her day, and then lean over and pepper kisses to his neck and his cheeks and his nose and call him her baby.

But instead, she hated him for everything he was worth.

“Y/N, Hanji didn’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” she rolled her eyes over to him, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re literally my only problem right now, You, my supposed lover. Everyone tells me stories about how you loved me, how we fell in love even, yet you treat me like absolute horse shit.”

“Would you just-”

“Would I just what? Continue to pretend you’re not an absolute asshole? You ignore me, you avoid me, you tell people that you miss me, yet you won’t even bother to make an effort? How can someone who loved me so much act this way?” the woman yelled furiously, glaring at him. The sparkle in her eyes vanished the longer she spoke, the longer she was with him.

He grit his teeth for a second trying to keep himself under control, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. “You are the one that’s ruined my life, don’t even try to act like your life is so hard.”

“How dare-”

“In case you didn’t know, you are the only thing I have left. I’ve lost my family, seen hundreds of people die around me. I found you, my sweet and kind princess, the woman I would kill and be killed over. I opened myself up to you, to the idea of loving you, despite what little time we all have left, despite the risks that come with caring about someone.”

“I’m still the same person-”

“No, you’re not. You just fell in love with me, I didn't need to try this hard. It was natural that we come together after everything we had been through. When I thought about the day I would lose you, I expected you to die and for us to bury your body and for it all to be over. I could move on knowing I did everything I could to protect you and love you,” he gasped for air, so angry he forgot to breathe. His eyes burned into hers which were slowly widening, lips just agape. He took a deep breath and continued, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you walking around, talking to people, knowing that you are right there for me to touch and love, yet you will never love me again, not the way it was? Do you really, Y/N?”

“Levi...I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, covering his eyes in shame. He didn’t mean to be so emotional, to make a pathetic attempt at forcing the blame on her. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything for it to be this way. You’re just living like anyone else, I’m the one wallowing in my own misery. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“I know. I-I want more than anything to remember everything. I want to remember you and how much you loved me like everyone says, like you say. I just...I don’t know how. Levi, I’m so sorry.”

He let his arms fall to his sides limply, not having anything else left to say really. “Even though you’re right in front of me, I miss you,” he whispered. “I just miss you.”

Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. He tensed for a moment before falling into the hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and neck, pulling her form as close to him as possible. He missed her touch, her warm hugs by the stables. He would never say he missed the little intimacies, that was too much for him. Yet, these moments fueled him to wait for her, as long as she needed.

“Maybe it will never be the same. I’m sorry for that, Levi. I want to be friends with you. I long to know what the old me saw in you for so long. I wish I remembered what happened to spark something between us. I know it’s all still there somewhere, whether we have that history or not.” Silence from him, just faint breaths against her shoulder. “But it will be okay.”

It’ll be okay.

________________________________________________

Six months after she lost her memory, six months of feeling like a burden to the corps, Y/N stood outside the castle with a few of the cadets and Hanji, watching as she tried more experiments on Eren. She leaned back against a tree and shut her eyes, taking in a breath of the fresh air. So much had happened over the past months that she nearly forgot she lost her memories all those months ago. Wall Rose was sealed, the titan shifters had left for the time being. It seemed like everything was at peace, or that time was just standing still.

In the middle of the peace, the sunlight shining down on her and her friends through leaves in the trees, through the warmth of the summer sun. her mind seemed to piece itself together, if only parts. Her world shifted together once again.

Flashbacks played over in her mind, one after the other, hundreds of memories flooding in so quickly. She stumbled forward a few steps, pressing a hand to her lips to hold back her gasp. Hanji hadn’t noticed as she was too focused on Eren, but Jean gave her a particularly strange look after noticing her.

“Y/N-san, you good?” the boy called to her.

Thankfully, no one noticed except him, and she just waved him off. “It’s nothing. Just have to go to the bathroom.” As she walked away, more and more memories flooded into her head, not everything. She felt millions of tiny pieces of her story were missing here and there, but she could remember enough.

Memories of her mother and her father in her childhood house. Memories of school, cadet training. Erwin, Eren, Hanji, her squad, the titans, the expeditions, her favorite foods and stories and books. 

But most of all, she remembered Levi.

_______________________________

The night was soldiering on, yet Y/N could not sleep. Her stomach churned every few moments and she felt a headache coming up at the same time. Something had been bothering her for the past week, actually, make that the past few months. She was a seasoned soldier, yet she was letting emotions cloud her mind. Her exercises were coming up short and clumsy, and she had a hard time focusing on paperwork or the commander’s orders. 

The only thing on her mind was a man, particularly short with a sharp tongue and the abilities of a godly warrior. It had been two years since she met him, two long years of fighting and struggling to live amongst the chaos ensuing. He was her only source of hope and light in this cruel world.

Slowly, she rolled out of her bed and wrapped herself in her blanket, leaving the room and shutting the door silently. She didn’t want to wake anyone else for them to ask what she was up to long after midnight. She stepped down the hall carefully, keeping her head hung just a bit. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been scared at all. She knew just as well as he did what they were meant to be. It was obvious to everyone. 

Yet there were always variables. Death was inevitable, no one lived to die of old age anymore. They were busy beyond belief, always rushing around to get things done, fight titans, protect the people of the walls. It was high stress, which didn’t leave much thought for anything else. She had the mind to think about everything but her priorities, unfortunately.

She walked across the yard in the cold night to the men’s barracks, definitely not where she was supposed to be. She could probably be in a bit of trouble with Erwin if someone snitched on her, but her consequences wouldn’t be dire.

And as she approached the room, her body tensed. It was so quiet in the night that she could almost hear the sound of her heart beating ferociously in her chest. Softly, with the tips of her fingers, she knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she could only laugh to herself, of course he couldn’t hear her weak knocks. 

She was just so scared. Maybe if he didn’t answer the door, then she could forget all about this and never confess what she was thinking. 

Gathering some of that Survey Corps courage, she knocked a little harder on the door. Rustling sound from in the room, and the woman cringed, shutting her eyes and taking a few quick breaths. It would be fine, she assured herself. It’s not that big of a deal.

When the door opened and Levi looked into her eyes, rightfully confused, she lost all her thoughts. The hours she had spent rehearsing what she wanted to say were thrown out the window.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, his eyes sliding to check down the hall left and right for anyone watching. 

Her mouth opened, lips opening and closing like fish. He took her wrist and yanked her into his room, shutting the door behind them. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, still holding her wrist in his iron tight grip. Y/N shook her head and sighed, turning to look at the wall instead of him. “Don’t tell me you had a nightmare or something-”

“Levi, I love you. I-I don’t know how else to tell you, and Hanji said outright was the best way and...well, I don’t know.”

“Love?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay with me tonight?”

Her face turned to stare at him incredulously, her cheeks turning an all-telling pink. “What?”

“I anticipated this, to be honest. You’re very emotional.” He crossed his arms, trying his best not to lose his cool composure like she had. He’d gone to the same evil scientist for love advice about Y/N a month before. His heart felt like it would explode, and his cheeks were threatening to turn red and his palms to sweat. But he would remain cool. Y/N was always the one to be open with her more embarrassing emotions. Coolly, he replied, “Hanji told me you would do this, and then she told me to tell you to stay the night with me.”

“Hanji...that double-crossing bastard.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feelings of drowsiness still running through his head after just waking up. “Listen, I just want to hold you and fall asleep so stay with me.”

It only took a second to think it over before Y/N nodded. He walked over to his bed, scooting over to the side against the wall so she would have room. They had tiny beds, almost cots, but thankfully being a captain warranted a slightly bigger one. She sunk down into his bed and rolled over to face him. His sheets and pillows smelt so clean and new, just like his clothes did every day. It was comforting, and she felt the smell lulling her to sleep.

“So, the feelings are mutual?” she finally asked, although her answer was already quite clear.

Levi just sighed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to his chest. “Always so stupid.”

__________________________________________

“Levi?” Y/N asked as she entered the man’s office without even knocking. She was practically bouncing with each step, energy bound up inside.

He didn’t bother peeking up from his desk, just checking more things off his paperwork. “Yes, Y/N?”

She didn’t really know what to say, truthfully. She could only stand there for moment, and think herself so stupid for not remembering him. Looking back on how she acted while she was recovering, how she acted like a stranger to him for so long, and now that seemed ridiculous. They had history. Thousands of moments that she forgot. 

Without thinking much else, she bluntly said the only thing on her mind, “Stay the night with me.”

He lifted his eyes from his paperwork, narrowing his brows. “Excuse me?” 

“You said that the first time I told you I loved you. You-You were too nervous to actually tell me you loved me so you said that instead,” Y/N rushed to say. “I remembered.”

As Levi looked up at the woman he loved, the one he never stopped loving this whole time, he noticed the sparkle in her eyes had returned. Her cheeks were dusted pink and she looked out of breath from excitement. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this, and honestly he never thought he would hear her recall those times again.

“I remember you. Not everything yet, but I remember being in love with you. I remember how you loved me.”

He stood from his desk to walk over to the woman who was overflowing with so many words and thoughts and emotions that he thought she might burst. He rested his hands on her cheeks, bringing her eyes up to meet his. He could see, for the first time in forever, the way her eyes shone with love and affection for only him. She brought her hands up to rest on his, heat rising up to turn her ears red. 

Even though they were practically married before, she felt anxious and embarrassed being so close to him and touching him again. It was like she had just fallen in love again, a giddy young woman with so much ahead of her. Levi touching her, it made her feel something again. His warmth radiating onto her chilled skin; it was all she needed to go crazy.

God, did she miss having these feelings. The feeling of being in love is one of the most pleasant mankind has ever felt.

“Levi, I’m back.”

“God, I missed you. I really fucking missed you.”

And as she wrapped her arms around him once again, feeling his heart beating against her ear, she remembered what it felt like to be Y/N. A woman who was loved and important, someone with a history of good deeds and hard work. It was worth waiting six months, just to feel this bliss once again.

They would be together as long as they had left, and every minute would be cherished. War would come. Deaths would surface. But at least they had the present.

[watayaaratamblr]

Arata is an unfortunate character.

No, he is NOT!

But if we wish to make him one, then we don't need one fifth of the effort put into making Taichi the "sad" character that most fans keep labeling as "Poor Taichi", and Arata would have been then the most unfortunate character in Chihayafuru. All we need is a good mangaka (Suetsugu is!) & the intention to make him draw sympathy (the whole point), simply because Arata’s story is well packed with good material serving the purpose.

Starting with the fact that he was an almost blind child … Like “looking through a magnifying glass”, hearing voices outside but being unable to see anything~ A child who had to wear glasses from the age of 3, any writer can make this a touching story if so they wished -But Suetsugu sensei did not want to.

Growing up as a weak boy who is a letdown in everything most boys do, crying alone when he fails to fit in, disappointing his father who kept pushing him to go outside and be “normal” like all the other children all while letting go of Karuta that he was confirmed to have liked since he was very young. Writing a bit of his struggles to find a place for himself within the norms could have made readers cry a lot.

His grandfather thankfully extended his hand to him, offered him a place where he can be himself; But that too, created a situation where he maybe had to take a side & deal somehow with the other side because his grandfather & his father had a fight and he can only be torn between them. I’m no writer myself, but I can make this sentimental.

Then his father took him away to Tokyo where he had to be a part of a poor family, and not only to cancel his needs & desires (like for example having different outfits for school instead of the few he will be noticed to wear frequently) but to also work sometimes to support his parents, to wake up before school time in the early mornings when other children are probably sound asleep in their warm beds, to go outside in the cold, to earn some cash and to give it to his parents … I read some real sad stories with this idea. So yeah, Arata could have been one of the saddest characters if Suetsugu wanted him to be.

And not to mention being bullied and laughed at for not only his impoverishment (which he can hope to change) but for his identity (as a boy from Fukui speaking a “weird” dialect). He received all this with lot of patience, and tried to comfort himself by himself with his grandfather’s “gift”, how it was a refugee for him.

Any writer can make a sob story out of Arata’s unspoken loneliness & yearning for home, his grandpa & for playing his beloved Karuta properly.

Or out the fact that he couldn’t make any friends in his new school either (he was confirmed to never have real friends since his childhood through the fact that he struggled to fit in + he stayed like that even after he grew up (like Murao said), and he is not someone who doesn’t care about having friends because he was confirmed to almost worship his bond with Taichi & Chihaya, Taichi specifically even though their friendship isn’t really a comforting one; he longed for friendship however it is!)

He enjoyed that friendship nonetheless, he might even have felt like he was compensated for everything he wished for through it but he was soon robbed of all of it as he was separated from these friends & while he could still enjoy a bit of it through correspondence (at least Chihaya kept in touch), he wasn't as untroubled as needed for that because he was about to lose his precious grandfather.

And the process of losing him wasn’t something to take lightly either. Having busy (or rather negligent?) parents made him (a boy not even 14 years old) a caregiver for an old man who suffered from paralysis on the right side of his body and later dementia, not as simple as that, he had to watch what his most beloved & respected person turn into day & night, when he worked “really hard” (as stated in the manga) with his rehabilitation exercises, when he helped him with his baths, he massaged his limbs, he fed him, constantly talked to him & showed him Karuta cards to “keep him” in this world. And when it's too much for him, he goes outside the room and cries bitter tears silently, all alone! There was this person who suffered from (PTSD) for years because their sick aunt didn’t recognize them (they were her favorite nephew before & they were 17 yo at the time), this person couldn’t visit her since & couldn’t see her before she died & they developed a fear of “getting too close” & of seeing sick people, they had to seek long & serious therapeutic help. And Arata actually suffered from PTSD for over a year & half, any psychologist can easily recognize that from the fact that he quit Karuta, refused to touch & hated to see the cards (I stress on this), how he answered Chihaya when she called him, how the calm & patient him (that we knew from his childhood) was agitated & treated her rudely when she insisted on playing a match. And it was all confirmed in Arata’s last words in the same chapter: “I wanted to see you, I always had, but I didn’t want you to see me like this” (in the official tr), he knew that he wasn’t himself (contrary to what Taichi thought, his friend who decided to abandon him instead of trying to help. Chihaya still had faith in him but Taichi was louder -ch10)

Still, thanks to Chihaya, Arata was back to his beloved Karuta, though we all questioned how much fun he really felt while playing again, how much of him was involved with the game now. And eventually, he himself expressed the pressure (not the fun) he felt while playing. What took his passion away, what turned the feelings of a Karuta baka into mere obligation, this also is good content for an emotionally charged story, it only needs the intention of the writer.

And he shone in the world of Karuta. YET he was never “proud” of it, that was never received as anything special. When he comes back home, none really cares (or at least, none shows any enthusiasm), he goes to the western-challenger qualifiers and his parents won’t even go watch, won’t even prepare some food for him, he comes back home late & finds none, and prepares everything by himself (apart from Yu’s help). His parents pray for his defeat, meaning that his DREAM to become Meijin/be strongest in Karuta doesn’t mean much to them, and he knows it, and he was never shown telling them the news like when you want to share a happy one. Arata’s mother -before giving up after acknowledging Arata’s dedication- wanted his defeat even though there was enough money to support him, the lack of money being the excuse she & her husband claimed to be the reason of their lack of support.

The support system Arata lacks isn’t only in his family. Since the death of his grandfather he seems to stand alone in Karuta too. Murao was the only one who spared some time for him but only after he realized how “alone” he was and took pity on him. Murao's realization implies that the training Arata was doing at the Nagumo society didn’t really count for what he really needed. Kuriyama sensei (being expected by fans to be the “Harada” in Arata’s side) was almost useless & he himself expressed his confusion about what to do with him & how to help him. We never saw him particularly guide him in any way either. "Experiences" & "taking chances" were two factors that helped Mizusawa members for example to grow a lot, but these chances are doors without knobs & we know that they were opened for them by adults who were taking care of them in a way or another + being friends ensured that they encouraged each other then proceeded with every idea they got to learn & experience more. Arata lacks both these sources (adults around him rather burdened him with their expectations) so he kept training on his own mostly & we saw how it felt frustrating to him to be relying only on his solo training & an "image" encouraged by a long-dead teacher, he realized the toll of lacking real opponents in practice with whom he can measure his abilities & correct his mistakes to grow stronger. Support can also be emotional. Did Arata ever receive particular emotional support? I can only remember panels where the people worried for him kept watching him from afar while he dealt with it on his own.

Yu was an exception but even her support was written in a way suggesting that Arata was prepared to go on without it. Because with time, Arata learnt to "not expect much" which is also a very interesting trope for a sad story.

And he was described as “a lonely player on top” but this was never elaborated to show how it felt like to be one for Arata himself. This idea is also brilliant for melancholy if the author wanted fans to sympathize with Arata but she didn't go beyond praising Chihaya who could somehow reach him & Shinobu chan.

And while playing on his own (or working part time to support himself), taking care of himself, he met his two precious friends again (they were the only selfish desire Arata has openly expressed throughout the series). But what he felt is that he was left behind & that he was the only one so far away. And he was. They got to experience so many things he didn’t, they made new friends & new bonds & he didn’t, they got closer to each other & he didn’t… At the end he went back to be the outsider & them the two old childhood friends. If the author wrote just a little bit more about these, if she highlighted these facts they could have made a good drama.

Love is the main reason Taichi is "felt for" (because he progressed in karuta but not in Love ..not yet at least). Arata is also a part of the love triangle in Chihayafuru, and if we try to summarize it with the intention of making it sad, then let's go, there is enough to say for that, we just need a good writer (which I'm not sadly). Still in short: Arata seems to have started to develop feelings for Chihaya a long time ago but he had to keep that in check because he thought she was dating Taichi & he kept his distance out of respect for that assumed relationship even though he craved at least connecting with his old friends. When he came closer, Chihaya was interested in him but he never knew, the enthusiasm she showed him was not different from how she is with everyone, no, Taichi received special treatment, while for him, every time he tries to say something to her he is cut off somehow. Everything seemed to be against them getting close. Later Chihaya seemed to have ultimate fun with Taichi too, maybe that was the only thing he thought he could give her, now she didn't need it. Maybe he had that thought again when she praised his game against Harada sensei that's why he confessed but soon, She is once again so far away, she seemed to need Taichi to function properly, he understood that & he used that to cheer her up in her most important tournament. He wanted badly to play with her again to only be totally iced, he couldn't even be seen by her, he was so far away, she belonged to where he wasn't part of (& even her friend kana found a way to express her disapproval of him) Can we not make a drama out of this? Or out of his stuttering, awkwardness & introversion? Or maybe the fact that his parents don't understand him? And did anyone alse feel that in most of Taichi's mother's appearances, we got this feeling that Taichi is a son who should be cared for while when Arata's parents appeared, many times, we can feel how Arata was used to highlight their feelings as individuals & he was drawn there as the member of the family who had to pay attention to that? Anyway, every single one of these points alone is very good material for a "tearjerker" so what about all of them combined? because they are all facts from Arata's reality.

Again, all we need is a good writer (we have it) & the intention to make it that way which isn't there. Suetsugu decided instead to put double the effort to make Taichi the "sorrowful/anguished" one because Arata is not a character written to feel sorry for or to commiserate. He is rather written for the most part of the manga as an inspiring one, an aspiration, to be a drive & a goal. So despite having all the above circumstances, he is instead written as a character who keeps to himself, doesn't complain, hides his hardships, makes it seem that he fine when he notices that someone is watching, tries to focus on what he has & be happy with it however little or simple. That's why it's easy for him to forget & forgive, easy for him to recover & stand up again because there are other characters who need him there as an example, who think that he is perfectly fine so they should only focus on themselves and thus, Bildungsroman can be used for them. And finally- wait, what were Taichi's problems again?

----------------------------------------------------

Writer adds:

[thinkveganworld]

Here’s Part One of a series of articles I wrote a while back:  

Goebbels and today’s mass mind control: Part One 

How PR opinion-shapers turn the people against their own interests By Carla Binion (”thinkveganworld.tumblr.com”) 

Today’s right-wing public relations spin has much in common with the propaganda methods of Hitler’s PR man, Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels admired Edward Bernays, a self-proclaimed founder of the public relations industry.  Bernays, a Vienna-born nephew of Sigmund Freud, opened a New York office in 1919.  According to John Stauber and Sheldon Rampton, (“Toxic Sludge is Good for You,” Common Courage Press, 1995) Bernays “pioneered the PR industry’s use of psychology and other social sciences to design its public persuasion campaigns.”

Bernays wrote in “Propaganda,” (New York: 1928, pp. 47-48) “If we understand the mechanism and motives of the group mind, it is now possible to control and regiment the masses according to our will without their knowing it.”  Bernays referred to this scientific opinion-control as the “engineering of consent." 

In his autobiography, Bernays discusses a dinner at his home in 1933 where, "Karl von Weigand, foreign correspondent of the Hearst newspapers, an old hand at interpreting Europe and just returned from Germany, was telling us about Goebbels and his propaganda plans to consolidate Nazi power.  Goebbels had shown Weigand his propaganda library, the best Weigand had ever seen.

 Goebbels, said Weigand, was using my book ‘Crystallizing Public Opinion’ as a basis for his destructive campaign against the Jews of Germany.  This shocked me.  Obviously the attack on the Jews of Germany was no emotional outburst of the Nazis, but a deliberate, planned campaign." 

Today, corporations spend millions on public relations campaigns to "crystallize public opinion,” often in an effort to convince the public that harmful things are actually good for us.  Sometimes the companies start by bending the minds of our elected representatives. 

This is the first part of a series.  In part one, we’ll focus on the ways in which corporations and their public relations mind-shapers worked to destroy the Clinton health care plan.  Today forty-four million Americans, about one in five people, have no health coverage, and many people cannot afford needed pharmaceutical drugs.  Most Americans probably wonder why, despite repeatedly broken campaign promises, Congress never does anything to improve the health care system. 

As far back as November 8, 1999, a Newsweek article reported that half or more of eligible heart attack patients are at greater risk because they can’t get needed beta blockers.  The article stated that two-thirds of people surveyed say they are worried that health care is no longer affordable.  Conditions haven’t improved since then.

In 1993, the Clinton administration tried to do something about the high price of prescription drugs, hinting at possible government-imposed price controls.  The pharmaceutical industry then turned to the Beckel Cowan PR firm to oppose the administration’s designs on lowering the cost of prescription drugs – although, of course, the Clinton plan would have benefited the public.  Stauber and Rampton write that Beckel Cowan “created an astroturf [or, fake grassroots] organization called 'Rx Partners’ and began deploying state and local organizers to, in the words of a company brochure, 'generate and secure high-quality personal letters from influential constituents to 35 targeted members of Congress.’" 

At the same time, Beckel Cowan managed a mail and phone campaign "which produced personal letters, telegrams and patch-through calls to the targeted members’ local and Washington, DC, offices.”  The PR firm built a network of supporters in 35 congressional districts and states. Pharmaceutical companies weren’t the only corporations to oppose an improved health care system.

The insurance industry went to work to fight against the Clinton health care plan, recruiting PR-man Robert Hoopes.  According to Stauber and Rampton, the 300,000 member Independent Insurance Agents of America (IIAA) hired Hoopes as their “grassroots coordinator/political education specialist." 

Campaign & Elections magazine reported the IIAA activated "nearly 140,000 insurance agents during the health care debate, becoming what Hoopes describes as a new breed of Washington lobbyists,” wrote Stauber and Rampton.  Hoopes said the lobbyists “have behind them an army of independent insurance agents from each state, and members of Congress understand what a lobbyist can do with the touch of a button to mobilize those people for or against them." 

In Campaign & Elections magazine ("Killing Health Care Reform,” October/November 1994) Thomas Scarlett writes of the insurance companies PR moves, “Through a combination of skillfully targeted media and grassroots lobbying, these groups were able to change more minds than the president could, despite the White House 'bully pulpit.' 

Never before have private interests spent so much money so publicly to defeat an initiative launched by a president.” The Coalition for Health Insurance Choices (CHIC), an insurance company front group, led the attacks on health care reform.  According to Consumer Reports, “The HIAA [Health Insurance Association of America] doesn’t just support the coalition; it created it from scratch.”  Stauber and Rampton write that PR-man Blair G. Childs masterminded the Coalition. 

Describing the fight against health care reform, Childs said in 1993, “The insurance industry was real nervous.  Everybody was talking about health care reform.  It felt like we were looking down the barrel of a gun.”  He added, “We needed cover because we were going to be painted as the bad guy.  You get strength in numbers.  Start with the natural, strongest allies, sit around a table and build up to give your coalition a positive image." 

To battle health care reform, Childs said the coalition brought in "everyone from the homeless Vietnam veterans to some very conservative groups.  It was an amazing array, and they were all doing something.” (Blair Childs speaking at “Shaping Public Opinion: If You Don’t Do It Somebody Else Will,” in Chicago, Dec. 9, 1994.)  

Childs advised industry health reform opponents on selecting names for their fake grassroots coalitions.  He said they should use focus groups and surveys to find “words that resonate very positively.”  (Examples included the words “fairness, balance, choice, coalition and alliance.”) 

His own coalition sponsored the famous “Harry and Louise” television spots.  Those ads used strategic words to convince the public that Clinton’s health care plan was overly complex – a “billion dollar bureaucracy.” Propagandist Rush Limbaugh also fueled the anti-health care debate on his radio show with frequent “calculated rants” aimed at his dittohead audience.  

PR-man Blair Childs said his coalition ran paid ads on Limbaugh’s show to encourage Rush’s listeners to call members of Congress and urge them to kill health care reform. Stauber and Rampton say that congressional staffers often didn’t know the callers were “primed, loaded, aimed and fired at them by radio ads on the Limbaugh show, paid by the insurance industry, with the goal of orchestrating the appearance of overwhelming grassroots opposition to health reform." 

During 1992 and much of 1993, before the propaganda blitz, both Democrats and Republicans were leaning toward a health reform bill according to James Fallows (The Atlantic, January 1995.)  Fallows writes, "Bob Dole said he was eager to work with the administration and appeared at events side by side with Hillary Clinton to endorse universal coverage. Twenty-three Republicans said that universal coverage was a given in a new bill." 

By 1994, the insurance corporations’ PR attacks had changed the political environment.  Stauber and Rampton write that "Republicans who previously had signed on to various components of the Clinton plan backed away.” Even Democratic Party Senate majority leader George Mitchell “announced a scaled-back plan that was almost pure symbolism.  Republicans dismissed it with fierce scorn." 

Although Hitler’s propagandist used mass mind control for more sinister goals, today’s corporate propagandists have the following in common with Goebbels:  They use the same opinion-shaping techniques he did, and they use them for the purpose of turning the people against their own interests.  When large numbers of American citizens suffer or die because they can’t get needed medicine or surgery as a result of corporate propaganda, it becomes obvious that Goebbels and today’s industry PR spin doctors have produced fruit that is similar in kind, though different in degree. 

The public benefits from understanding corporate PR and its character and intentions.  Hitler said, "Only one thing could have broken our movement: if the adversary had understood its principle and from the first day had smashed with extreme brutality the nucleus of our new movement.”  (Speech to Nuremberg Congress, 9/3/33.) 

Corporate America’s movement to undermine affordable prescription drugs, universal health care and other public health and safety interests has to be understood before it can be fought.  Stauber and Rampton say the PR industry resembles the title character in the old Claude Rains movie, “The Invisible Man.”  Rains’ character uses his invisibility to get away with robbery, murder and other crimes.  

The film was made using special-effects techniques such as hidden wires to make ashtrays, guns and other objects appear to float in mid-air, as if they were being moved by the invisible man. “Instead of ashtrays and guns,” write Stauber and Rampton, “The PR industry seeks to manipulate public opinion and government policy.  But it can only manipulate while it remains invisible." 

In part two, we’ll look at specific techniques today’s public relations ploys have in common with Goebbels’ methods, and we’ll examine the corporations’ and think-tanks’ Goebbels-like attacks on environmental protection.

[ahiddenpath]

100 Questions

So I reblogged this 100 question list, and some of the Qs were real bangers.  I picked my top five to answer!  You can ask me more, if you’d like!  More below the cut.

22.)  How long does it take you to fall in love with somebody?  Is the sensation of ‘falling in love’ or ‘being in love’ better?

I don’t think falling in love or being in love exists, as an emotion or state.  Actually, there was a period where I lowkey wondered if I was... missing some kind of emotional “love” capacity, because love never felt the way I was taught it would: a sensation in my body, like hunger or anxiety or happiness.  And this isn’t limited to romantic love, either.

For example, I had a cat from roughly age seven to my mid twenties.  When she began to deteriorate, I wondered- will I miss her?  Surely, I like that she’s around, and I like her.  But I don’t feel emotions about her.  I probably won’t miss her?  These thoughts seemed monstrous to me- how could I be so cold towards my pet of 18 years? 

And as I thought these things, I continued to give her lots of attention, feed her, take her to the vet for her many end-of-life trips, and patiently deal with her accidents caused by kidney failure.  I genuinely didn’t see that caring for her so kindly was love- I was looking for some kind of big emotion.

When she passed, I was so bereaved that my back went out, and I was immobile for a week (you can’t make this shit up.  I literally had to get a muscle-relaxant injection in my buttcheek because my muscles were so locked up.  I didn’t fall or hurt myself in any way, it was 100% grief).

Clearly, many people experience love as an emotion- we learn about butterflies and crushes and attraction and big sweeping FEELS early on.  For me, love is genuinely wanting to give my best self to someone- to want to give them my time, attention, and care.  To want them around, to seek them out.  I want happiness and health for everyone, but someone you love- you’re willing to put enormous personal effort in to promote their well-being.

It’s quiet, deliberate, subtle... but given with joy.

24.)   Do you think you really understand your gender and sexuality?

Okay, so you probably know that I identify as, vaguely, “somewhere on the gray scale.”  I feel like it’s so difficult to pin down, because-  Am I asexual and/or aromantic, or am I just...  Absolutely disinterested in romance, ie, the western phenomenon that is generally traced back to the tenets of chivalry?  

I struggle so much to put these vague and confused feelings into words, so-  Please bear with me.  

A few years ago, a friend sent me a scene from an Indian movie- I think it was an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.  The scene was Romeo and Juliet meeting at a party- it was colorful and huge!  Then she sent me another clip- it’s hard to remember, but they were in bed and playing with incense- like, making the clouds of it move- and I was like, “Dude-  Is this-  Is this sexy?  I have never watched a scene on film and thought it was sexy???”

My friend said, “It’s sensual.  People setting the mood and enjoying each other.  Western movies tend to follow romance scripts- They went on a date, he gave her flowers/provided for her financially, he messed up, then fixed it with a grand gesture.  It’s formulaic- some people love it, some people are bored with it by the time they’re teens.”

So- I like intimacy and sensuality.  I don’t like romance and sex as it’s generally understood in the west.  I still think I’m somewhere on the greyscale, but-  I don’t know which aspect contributes more to my attitudes towards romantic love and sex.

As for gender, I can’t say I’ve ever wondered if I wasn’t female.  I have wondered if gender is a concept we should bother with- should our physical appearance shape how we’re treated to the extent that it does?  But I also know how important gender is for lots of people!  It’s an interesting subject, but also one I tend to worry about discussing- I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.  

40.)   What makes a person ‘good’? Are you a ‘good person’?

A dear friend is insistent that there is no such thing as “good” humans and “bad” humans.  We’re all just... humans.  

I chewed on this for years, because- surely someone who, say, commits murder is “bad.”  But, slowly, as I matured, I think I started to understand her.  No one is saying that crimes should be overlooked and there is no right and wrong.  But what you judge is the crime itself, and only in a court of peers.

The moment we start sorting people into “good” and “bad” is the moment we start slipping towards, “this kind of person is better than that kind,” which can go in many terrible and disastrous directions.

We aren’t meant to sit around judging people, deciding who is worthy and unworthy.  We’re meant to do our best and support others when we’re able.

50.)   What do you expect from a friend or partner?

I JUST ABOUT LOST MY MIND WHEN I SAW THIS Q ON THE LIST!

So it turns out that people talk about their love lives a lot, especially if they are looking for a partner.  I realized that people always talk about what they want from a partner...  But I had literally never heard anyone talk about what they expect to give their partner.

I started asking.  “Okay.  So that’s what you want from a significant other.  What do you want to offer/give them?”

It turns out this is an efficient way to cause system failure, lol!!!!!

But here’s the thing- the world we live in takes and takes and takes and takes from people.  We’re all searching for comfort, for people to lean on, for support and presence and connection.  It’s one of the most precious things out there.  It’s no wonder that everyone wants it, and that we feel the need for it so keenly, so painfully.

So very many of us are desperate for support and connection, and for whatever reason, my American culture points to a monogamous romantic relationship as the strongest source of it.  If you offer someone love and care, many people will devour it to the last crumb.  Usually, it isn’t because they’re consciously greedy.  It’s because the need is so great, and we are taught that the best source is a significant other.

So, when it comes to dating, I think it’s absolutely paramount to know how much you can give and where your boundaries are before you start.  It’s also important to remind yourself that, even in the beginning stages, the other person is also a human who has wants, needs, and expectations from you.  What are you willing to provide?  If you only take, they will eventually catch on and realize they are being used.  If you only give, you will eventually realize that you are depleted.

So, what are you willing to give?

75.)   Do we have a moral obligation to care for others? To what extent?

Have you ever heard that story where Benedict Cumberbatch stopped an assault, and he was basically like (paraphrasing), “Don’t call me a hero, I just did what I had to.”

Basically, humans looking after humans is... you guessed it, humans being humans!  We’re a social species that only survived this long by working together.  No one can hunt, watch children, make warm clothes, care for the elderly, cook the food, gather herbs, make medicine, and care for the sick in a single day.  We get it done by working together and splitting tasks.  

It looks different in the modern world- we mostly pay for goods and services instead of trading skills.  But there are still so many places in the world where people only survive by helping each other.  This is especially true in low income areas.  Most people have experienced hard times, and want to help others when hard times come for them.

That said, my country’s current situation generates a black hole of need (financial, emotional, healthwise, etc).  It’s important to help others, but pivotal to know when you need to recover and take care of yourself.  You can’t pour from an empty cup.

And those were the 5 Qs where I felt like I had the most interesting perspectives/ things to say/offer!  I hope they were interesting, and not just hot air, lol!  It was really engaging to come up with responses for them.

[amydancepants-peralta]

baby, I’ve got you on my mind 

“Thank you for that update, McCla- I’m mean, McCarthur.”  

Clearing her throat, Amy ducks her head down to focus on the paperwork in front of her, quietly praying that nobody has noticed her mistake.  She knew the chances were slim, given that it was her third slip-up since her briefing had begun fifteen minutes ago, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the concept of returning to work after three months of Pure Family Time was going to be way harder than she’d anticipated.  

There had been a part of her that was so. eager. to return to work today, taking extra care to iron her uniform into perfectly symmetrical pleats and polishing her badge so that it shone with just enough pride.  Rumours had been circulating around about somebody trying to make adjustments to her precision based filing system (and she wasn’t mad, she just wanted to talk to whomever they were), and as the weeks wore on and Jake returned to work, it became apparent that her FOMOW was no longer something that Amy could easily hide.

She has loved every single second of being a Mommy, right down to the sleepless nights and the cold mornings with her son sleeping snuggled warm against her, but there was no way that Amy could deny how much she missed the order of the NYPD.  She had craved the regular flow of paperwork (some that even needed to be notarised); the meetings and seminars and conference calls and oh, how there were so many binders waiting to be filled.  

In the past few weeks it had become habit once Jake returned home each evening, to spend the first half hour (at a minimum) telling her about his day - filling her in on any cases that had opened while she’s been away.  She lapped up all the information eagerly, throwing out ideas as they came to her, and the sheer thought of being able to play a part in regulating justice to their city made her giddy with excitement.  So Amy had been excited to return to work, if only to scratch the itch that her FOMOW had left her with.  

As it turned out, she had a much larger case of something brewing underneath her skin - something that was increasing dramatically with every passing second.  

Amy had FOMOM:  Fear Of Missing Out on Mac.

It had, for example, been exactly one hour and thirty seven minutes since she’d walked out of her and Jake’s apartment, blowing goodbye kisses to her son as he rested comfortably in his father’s arms.  One hour and thirty six minutes since she’d reconsidered the whole notion of returning to work, her fingers hovering over Holt’s number on her cell phone as she made her way down the stairs, and one hour and thirty four minutes since she’d convinced herself that she could totally do this.  

(Also, it has been sixteen minutes since she’s realised just how many officers on her team had names that began with the letter M.  And how her mind no longer seemed to be able to say any other name that began with the same combination of consonants and vowels without automatically reverting to her son’s.)

She hadn’t even passed the two hour mark yet, and already Amy felt like she’d been away from her family for eight years.  

Her phone lights up from its resting place along the edge of the podium, and she glances at it quickly, trying her best to tamper down the racing heartbeat that accompanies the notification that her husband has sent her a photo.

This was it.  This was the text Jake was going to send to her, that announced excitedly that their prodigy of a son had managed to figure out how to walk, fifteen minutes after she’d stepped out the apartment this morning.  Or that he’d pronounced his first word - a clear and proud call for Daddy - and that Jake hadn’t managed to get video of it but it was so amazing, babe, I wish you could have been there to see it!

Her hands grip the wooden edges of the platform her Return To Work speech occupied, eyes glued to the background picture of Mac sleeping on an also sleeping Jake’s chest, and from the tables before her one of the officers clears their throat politely.  The sound cuts through the spiral Amy was beginning to gravitate towards, pulling her attention back to her team, and with an apologetic smile she wraps up the rest of the briefing quickly.  There were still four and half pages left of her speech, but it’s nothing that she can’t compose in an email when her mind is a little less preoccupied, and in all honesty the only order of business she can focus on right now is Priority One: Unlocking her phone.

*

There have been many, many advancements in the name of modern technology; and 2 hours, 53 minutes and 47 seconds into Amy’s first shift she has twice already cursed the fact that nobody has created the option for a person to be able to reach into their phone and touch the subject of an image.  Never before has she had such a craving to squeeze her son’s chubby cheeks, to feel the unbelievably soft skin that she knows he has.  

Her husband, in yet another display of sweetness, has been giving her regular updates on his and Mac’s day at home together - and two minutes ago he’d sent through a photo of their son, reclined in his baby seat, with apple sauce spread out allll over his cheeks.  It was equal parts adorable and painful for Amy, for her to not be able to a) grab a cloth and wipe away the mess as her son grins up at her, and b) smother his tiny face with a million tiny kisses.  

She missed him.  Missed him more than she’d thought possible.  Her arms felt empty without their son in them, and it’s nearly impossible for her to imagine what life was like before their family had become a party of three.

In absolutely no surprise to anybody other than himself, Jake has turned out to be an excellent father.  He’s been by her side through the whole thing - even the middle of the night feeds, taking to burping their son like a pro - and the way Mac’s face lights up whenever his eyes land on Jake (and vice versa, it’s honestly just the sweetest thing to see) tells Amy all that she needs to know.  Their son is going to adore Jake, and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that her husband is EVER going to walk away from his family.  

Distractedly, Amy shuffles the paperwork around on her desk, offering a tight smile to one of her colleagues as they pass.  Get it together, Santiago.  You are a badass police sergeant for one of the strongest teams in the entire NYPD.  You can get through one shift without seeing your son.  Her phone vibrates with an incoming heart emoji filled text from her husband, and she takes his support as fuel for her cause, standing up from her desk and taking purposeful strides towards the filing cabinets.  You’re a badass police sergeant with a highly effective, strongly sought after filing system, and you can do this.  

Her eyebrows knit in disgust as she opens the first drawer, taking in the messy array of folders that occupied the once orderly space, and she supposes she should be thankful in some way that there was someone in the office who thought that this hot mess worked better than her system (and therefore provided a worthy distraction for her entirely preoccupied mind), but in all honesty she’s just completely horrified.  

Already composing a polite but firm memorandum in her mind, Amy begins pulling the files out of their incorrect positions, glancing at her watch as she gets to work.  

Only five hours, two minutes and twenty seconds to go.  

*

It’s 4 hours and 28 minutes into Amy’s workday when she hears the elevator doors open and a tiny gasp escape Officer Alvarado’s mouth, and with a quick lift of her head she notices why.  Jake has suddenly appeared on her floor, with their son safe and sound inside the carrier strapped to his chest.  His smile lights up the room - like it always does, even at home - and even though he’s clearly trying to make his way towards Amy, it seems that the sudden appearance of Mac Peralta in the precinct has garnered every single officer’s attention.  

Amy’s not one to pull rank (honestly, who is she kidding?) but her footsteps are quick against the linoleum floor, increasing in intensity the closer she gets to her husband, and Jake’s already in the process of unclipping a strap as she nears.  “I figured you’d probably be in need of a pick-me-up right about now,” he mumbles, his voice soft enough to only land in Amy’s ears.

Nodding eagerly, Amy shoots her husband a grateful look before smiling in Mac’s direction, stretching her hands out as he lifts his own in recognition.

“There’s my little guy!”  She cries out, sliding one hand along her son’s back as his chonky little arms and legs begin to wave around in excitement.  He coos as she lifts him out of the carrier with Jake’s help, and the sound buries deep in her heart as the feeling of utter completion begins to wash over her now that Mac is leaning against her chest.  

Shifting her shoulder slightly, Amy tilts her grip slightly in an effort to show off to the crowd her greatest achievement to date.  “Squad, meet our son - Mac.”  

There’s a crowd of tiny waves, all of which are greeted with a tiny saliva-covered fist moving back and forth from Mac’s mouth; and after a few more minutes of leg squishing and attempts to reach out for various badges, Amy’s squad disperses - suddenly aware that absolutely none of them were currently doing their work, and that there was no way they could hide such a fact from their boss.  

Jake’s palm rests against Amy’s shoulder as she leads them towards the third floor break room, a quiet eating space that has yet to be tainted by the questionable eating habits of either Scully or Hitchcock.  “You have had many brilliant ideas in all the years we’ve been together, babe, but I think this one might just be your best yet.”  Amy announces to Jake as she settles into a vacant chair, grinning over at her husband as he chooses the seat opposite.  

He smiles, that gentle nod of his head that he does when he’s secretly proud of his actions kicking in, and Amy stretches her left leg out to brush against his.  His beam grows brighter as he leans forward, brushing his fingers gently along the tiny curls that have begun to form on their son’s head before replying, “Safe to say, I’ve gotten pretty good and picking up on the my wife is having a meltdown style of texting.”

Scoffing, Amy cranes her head back slightly to take in her son’s adorable face as she responds.  “I’d like to think I’ve handled today pretty well.”  It’s a lie, and they both know it.

Letting out a soft laugh, Jake shakes his head slightly.  “Tell that to the fifty-odd messages I’ve received from you today.”

She feels a soft blush wash over her cheeks, but Amy doesn’t care in the slightest.  They both know that Jake fared no better when it had been his turn to return to work, and they’ve come to the total and utter acceptance that Mac Peralta just so happens to be the most adorable and addictive baby that ever graced the earth.  Facts are facts, and there was no point hiding it.  

“Okay, so maybe I’ve - ”  Pausing mid-sentence, Amy takes a closer look at her son, fingers swirling around his soft hair carefully.  

“Ames?”

“His hair has grown.”

Nodding, Jake scoots his chair closer, and the corresponding scrape sounds oddly loud as it bounces off the surrounding walls.  “Yeah, he’s definitely going to end up with my curls.  It’s both a blessing and a curse, but he’ll figure that out eventually.”

Amy shakes her head quickly.  “No, I mean it’s grown.  Since this morning.”

“Babe, it’s been five hours.”

“It has, though!  See this curl?  It’s WAY more pronounced than it was earlier today.  It wraps around my finger twice now!”

His eyes are dubious, but if there is anything that Jake has learned by now it is not to doubt his wife, and so he responds simply with a nod.  It’s not convincing in any way, shape, or form, but Amy is way too distracted to bother with a rebuttal.  

“I knew this was going to happen!  He’s growing so quickly, babe.”  Her eyes have turned wide as saucers, and she can feel her eyebrows raising to nearly the point of her hairline, but none of that matters in the slightest.  “We’re going to miss out on so. much!  Why did we not take this into consideration?”  Her lips press against the top of Mac’s head as she holds him closer, jiggling one knee on reflex as he wriggles slightly in her arms.  Slowly, Amy begins to feel her chest tighten up as all of the niggling doubts of her returning to work rush to the surface.

“Ames”.  Jake’s hands rest gently on top of her own, squeezing slightly as she raises her head to meet his.  “We’re not going to miss out on anything.  You have put together the most thorough, well-spaced out babysitting schedule that has meant that one of our friends or family is always going to be around when we’re not.  With any luck, it’ll never be longer than eight or nine hours before we’re all home together again, and either one of us is always only a video call away.”  

Nodding, Amy drops her head back down to leave another kiss on Mac’s forehead, and she takes in a deep breath of that incredible new baby smell while she’s there.  Already, she can feel herself being to reset.

“There are going to be a thousand moments, some big and some small, and yeah, maybe we might miss a couple here and there, but the most important thing is that Mac is already so, so loved.  He knows that, and we know that, and honestly that’s all that matters.”

Amy’s pounding heart slowly lessens its assault against her chest, and as Jake’s hands tighten their grip over hers she begins to nod.  If someone had told her eight years ago that the immature cop that sat across from her would end up being the source of some of the sweetest things she’s ever heard in her life, she would have laughed in their faces.  But here he was, holding his rightful title of Greatest Husband and Father Ever, and honestly she wouldn’t have it any other way.  She smiles, leaning in slightly to bridge the gap between them with a chaste (read: work appropriate) kiss.  “I love you so much, babe.”

He mirrors her nod with his own, throwing in a wink.  “It’s easy to do, Ames.  I am very loveable.”

She knows it to be true, but still Amy rolls her eyes.  “Whatever, Peralta.  You’re just lucky that we make pretty cute babies.”

“Liquid fire, Ames.  I said it on Day One, and there’s no way I’m backing down.”

Letting out a contented sigh, Amy pulls Mac in for one last tight squeeze, taking in another hit of his perfect baby scent before standing.  “Alright.  I’ve got to get back to work now, otherwise it’s just never going to happen.”  Leaving one last parting kiss on Mac’s forehead, she passes her son to Jake, still unable to tear her eyes away from him for too long.  “Thank you so much for bringing him in today, this is exactly what I needed.”  Her son grumbles out a protest in the sudden change of plans, and it’s all she can do to not pull him immediately back into her arms.  

Jake smiles, reaching out to fiddle with Mac’s flailing right arm as he leans towards Amy for another sneaky kiss.  “I figure once he’s big enough to fit into that NYPD onesie the squad gave us, we’ll just set him up with his own desk in the corner.”

“There you go, with another brilliant idea!”

Gripping Mac’s hand in his fingers, Jake calls out “Goodbye, Mommy!”, and oh, how Amy’s heart begins to ache.  She feels it squeeze tighter as her two favourite men walk towards the elevator, and it gives one last protesting ache as the elevator doors slide shut.  Her feet feel heavy as they turn away from the exit, and she flicks her wrist upwards to check the time again. 

2 hours, 57 minute and 38 seconds to go.

*

There’s a vague memory of paperwork, interrogations, and a quick debrief as Amy’s shoes hit the pavement on the sidewalk outside the precinct, and her mind is still partially thinking of a case that landed on her desk late this afternoon when she notices what has easily turned into one of her favourite sights to see:  her husband and son, waiting patiently outside for her return.

Her hands may be a little grabby as they reach for her baby boy, but Jake only chuckles as he passes Mac over, running his hand up and down her back in greeting as she smothers her son’s face in kisses.  She mirrors the kisses with another one on Jake’s cheek as he reaches for her purse, gripping it with one hand as he takes her free hand with his other, and Amy’s smile is undeniably bright as they make their way down the familiar path home.  

Tomorrow, she will interview a suspect and put all of her efforts into finally cracking the drug ring that had begun to fester on the streets of Brooklyn.  Tomorrow, she will play her part in the takedown of a organised crime kingpin that has held reign for far too long.  

But for now, Amy’s going home to spend time with her family - this little family of three that might be smaller than others, but that her and Jake have created on their very own, and nobody can tear away from them no matter how hard they try.  Sometimes, she will be a badass sergeant that can take down New York’s worst with a swing of her fist.  And sometimes, she’s simply a mother at home with her family, singing along to nursery rhymes and wiping spit-up from her blouse.

She misses her family when they’re not together, and she misses her work when she’s not in uniform - and even though there’s still a tiny portion of lingering doubt that maybe she won’t be able to handle both, with Jake’s fingers gripped tightly against her own on their walk home a sense of calm washes over her.  

Both are equally important, and both are 100% worth it, and if one means missing out on something from the other, there is always going to be one Most Important detail to consider - that she and Jake were working hard to create a safe and loving world for their son.  

And that was worth fighting for, even if it came with a little FOMO.  

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Refuse to be a Named Character Pt 6

Hey Everyone I’m back! New job has definitely kicked my butt, but I’m kicking back! I’m going to try to write more and maybe post smaller updates in the meantime! So probably another part or two to finish off this tale! 

Master post linked here! 

Enjoy!

________________________________

“The others are fighting for all the advantages they can get prior to the first party tonight.” 

The masked servant knelt on the cold floor without any sign of discomfort, reporting in a dispassionate tone. His master sat on the windowsill, staring out into the gardens, a single finger tracing patterns in the condensation on the glass.

“How many keys do my brothers control?” Luke’s voice was cold, as if he didn’t care much about the answer that every nobleman in the city would give all their possessions to know.

“None. Prince Graham’s mother has bought over some relations of the third, fifth and eighth Lords, and Prince Fetter has been blackmailing every servant in the city, but the Ten Lords themselves have not given their loyalties to any prince.“

“Holding out for the highest price?” Luke sneered, his eyes searching the gardens as he spoke. “I can’t imagine those greedy old men having any notions of loyalty or fairness.” 

The servant bowed his head silently.

“So it will actually depend on the three parties? My father should be pleased that his final test will be carried out so well.”

“… Your Highness?” The servant hesitated a long moment before finally speaking up. “Why are you participating in this ridiculous trial? It’s a complete farce! With your forces…”

“It is none of your concern.” The chill in his voice seemed to freeze the air between them. 

“…Very well, Your Highness.”

“She still sees something worthwhile in me.” He muttered quietly. “I won’t betray that.” His eyes caught a glimpse of a figure walking along one of the garden’s pathways through the glass, and his gaze softened, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“If there’s nothing else, let’s end it here.”

“…” The masked servant didn’t move, staying in his kneeling position. Although his expression couldn’t be seen, his discomfort could be felt as he fidgeted in place. As the silence dragged on, Luke reluctantly looked away from the person in the gardens, turning towards the masked man with a frown.

“What is it? Something important?”

“I’m… not sure.” The man’s brows knitted together. “It’s a little… unusual more than anything.”

Luke waved a hand. “Well? Go ahead.”

“There’s been a… movement? A religion?” He shook his head. “Perhaps ‘cult’ would best describe it… spreading amongst the servants and craftsman in the capital.”

“I see.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “And why is this my concern?”

“Well, partly because the majority of your servants have taken part… but also because of its source.” The servant looked away from the prince’s gaze, uncomfortable. “You see… it’s a peculiar belief system, that states that by casting off one’s name and identity, one can avoid the deadly trouble and world and live a happy life.”

“…” Staring at the kneeling man for a few stunned moments, Luke couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh loudly. “How many have joined this cult?”

“Well… it began with just a handful among the areas she lived in… but it seems to have spread like a wildfire.”

“Of course.” A grinned tugged at the prince’s lips. “She can’t help but draw you in.”

“Your Highness…”

“Leave it be, unless you judge there’s any danger to her.” He turned back to the window, a finger tracing over the glass outlining the person in question. “Go make sure all my forces stand ready in case something goes wrong.” 

“Yes, Milord.” With a brief nod, the masked man quietly exited, leaving Luke alone.

“I’ll play by the rules while I can, but I won’t let you get hurt.”

He whispered a name, so quietly even he could barely hear it.

________________________________

“So you’re saying that in our story, all important characters are doomed to die bloody, violent deaths?” The servant girl stared up at me with an awed expression, making me slightly uncomfortable.

“All except the main hero and main villain, yes.” I nodded my head slowly.

“And that’s why you don’t have a name?” The young man next to her smiled with understanding.

I hesitated at his expression, but finally answered slowly. “Yes. I’m just an unimportant, nameless side character. Fading into the background.”

“A nameless side character.” The small group of servants repeated reverently after me, their eyes bright and excited. 

“…” 

Something’s… off. When I had originally been asked by one of the servant’s in Luke’s quarters why I didn’t have a name, I hadn’t thought much of it. Without mentioning the “transported into a book world” bit, I had explained my theory that all important characters died terribly.

 It had apparently struck a nerve. 

Ever since that day, that servant had been bringing small groups to talk to me, sometimes up to several times a day. They all seemed eager to listen, despite my increasingly wary replies. Even stranger, I had noticed that the servants in the household no longer called each other by name. 

What is going on?

“There you are!” A pleasant voice called out, interrupting my uncomfortable musings. 

“Luke!” I turned with a smile, waving goodbye to the group I had been talking to earlier.

“He has a name…”

“Fool! His Highness is a main character!”

I thought I heard some muttering behind me, but right then Luke reached out, grabbing my hand and distracting me.

“Having fun starting a new religion?” 

“Pardon?” I cocked my head to the side, confused. He stared at me for a few moments before laughing, the delighted sound making me grin back . 

“Never mind, as long as you’re happy.” He squeezed my hand gently. “Ready for the party tonight?”

“I’m going?” The thought made me nervous. It would be the final trial, so all the princes would be there. Fetter…  Graham… I swallowed uncomfortably. I hadn’t seen Graham or his mother since our last run in, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. 

“Who else would be willing to stand by my side?”

“And you… you’re participating?” I couldn’t help but ask; feeling confused. In the book his character hadn’t taken part in the parties at all, simply attacking the city at the night of the third party instead and trying to take the throne by force. It had been a vicious, bloody attack, every horrifying detail described. It was the final straw that made me unable to finish the fourth book Chloe had lent me.

Now I wished I had finished it despite how awful it was to read. I don’t even know what happened to Luke after the attack on Western City. Was he successful? Had he gotten hurt? Anxiety pierced my chest at the thought. He was so different from his character in Deadly Crown, but I wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt him.

How much have I changed the story?

Luke pulled me over to sit next to him on one of the benches in the garden. “It’s true, I don’t have the strongest political skills… that’s Fetter. And I don’t have a large base of support… that’s Graham. It seems like a hopeless cause.” Despite his depressing words however, he was smiling brightly at me.

“Then why are you so happy?” 

“Because you’re by my side.” He chuckled. “Winning isn’t important. We just need to stay alive, and then once they no longer see me as a threat, you and I can go live a life of obscurity in the woods together.” He paused, thinking it over. “Or the desert, if you like, since Blade has named you her successor.”

I shook my head, ignoring the outlandish statement at the end to focus on the point of his words. “So you don’t want the crown?” My tone held some disbelief as I studied his eyes. If he truly never wanted the throne, he could have abdicated at the very start.

Luke didn’t look away, meeting my gaze head on. “I did once.” He admitted it openly, his smile sad. “But it was never for me. It was for my mother.”

“Your mother.” That surprised me. The book had never mentioned her.

“She was from the desert. She and Blade grew up together, but while Blade is a fierce warrior… my mother was the opposite.” He stared down at the ground, a bitter expression taking over his face. “She was kind, loving… far too trusting to be a woman in the Royal Court.”

I pulled his hand into my lap, holding it between my two hands. It was cold, despite the warmer temperature in the garden around us. 

“She loved the king, despite his faults, his many women… his cold nature.” Luke’s eyes closed slowly, hiding the pain I could see in his eyes. “The man cares for no one but himself, but she gave her heart to him. She always hoped that he and I would get along, but I was only ever a disappointment to His Majesty.” He laughed softly, but it was not a happy sound.

“How…?” The question I wanted to ask died on my lips, I couldn’t say the words. I didn’t want to force him to remember, to make him hurt anymore than he already was. But even though I stopped myself, he understood what I wanted to know. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak, his tone flat, as if discussing a long forgotten history, or the weather, rather than the death of his only family member.

“Poison. I still don’t know who did it. Plenty of people with reason to. My mother was beautiful, favored by the King more than most of the other woman who had born him children. She died slowly, fading away in front of me into skin and bones, and there was nothing I could do. But no matter how much it must have hurt her, she continued to smile, to hope I would live happily without hatred or fear.” His voice cracked towards the end, his eyelashes damp from the tears he was trying to hold back.

I reached out, hugging him tightly, and slowly he lowered his head, resting it on my shoulder. His ragged breath felt warm on my neck as he slowly regained his calm. “So you decided to win the crown to avenge her?”

I felt him nod at my words. “They threw me into the Ninth Lord’s household after her death, beat me, cursed me, humiliated me. A useless prince with no backing. But I didn’t give up. I was going to take everything they wanted. The crown, the country, their power and wealth… I would crush it with my own two hands.” His tone was dark. 

“I had planned it out. Get their guard down by participating in the first two trials, and strike while they are fighting and squabbling for power in the final party. Even if only one of them was the one who murdered my mother, they all stood by and watched, seeing it as one less opponent to fight with rather than the death of an innocent woman. I was going to kill them all.” 

And he had… or at least he had tried in the book. I licked my lips nervously, stammering out my next question. “Umm… Are you still going to do that?”

He lifted his head, his tear stained gaze meeting my own. “Would you hate me if I did?”

“Hate?” I didn’t want him to be a villain. I was horrified still at the thought of him becoming a merciless killer like I had read about before. But even so, I couldn’t help but smile at him. “I can’t hate you. If you choose to turn against this world… I’ll fight them all with you.”  

Maybe I’m the real villain in this story.

A hand reached out and brushed the hair away from my eyes. “I don’t want to see you fight the world for me. So win or lose… I’ll play this game until the end.”

I breathed a small sigh of relief, separating from him and standing up, brushing the dirt from my dress. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” His whisper could barely be heard, “That’s only as long as I can keep you safe. If they try to hurt you…”

I met his gaze, seeing a darkness that I didn’t recognize there. “Luke?”

He sighed, standing up and hugging me briefly, before turning back towards the castle. “Let’s get ready for the party.”

________________________________

 By the time the first party started I was already mentally exhausted. Before we had even left, there was a brief fight over what I would wear. My initial suggestion of wearing camouflage and hiding in the bushes was vetoed, not only by Luke, but the entire service staff. Luke’s suggestion of a purple gown, the color only worn by royalty or those married to royalty was also rejected. We went back and forth a few times before deciding on a low key but expensive gown.

As I walked in a few steps behind Luke, I stared down at my ball gown. It was a little too fancy for a nameless side character, which made me nervous, but looking around at the other women in the room, I felt slightly relieved.  Bright colors, large gems and very low necklines seemed to be in style. The dark green color of my gown was less eye-catching, but reminded me of my previous hunting gear, with a high collar open only at the throat, where a simple silver star necklace lay. The sleeves were long and loose, the skirt billowing out but less voluminous then those around me, the style choices allowing me unrestricted movement.

It wasn’t a bad compromise.

As I looked around the room, I realized that the room had separated into groups, each centered around an older man or woman wearing a red sash with a  golden key attached.

The Ten Lords. 

Now that I was looking at them in person, the plot, which had evaded my memory in the past years suddenly, was more clear. In the book, Graham had used the knowledge gained from all his followers he had saved along the way to sway the Lords to his side. Each girl he had rescued, who was desperately in love with him, conveniently knew how to convince one of the Lords.

At the time, it had irritated me. I thought it was the author’s way of explaining why Graham’s harem and terrible treatment of the girls who cared for him was necessary. But now…

I knew exactly what to say to get the Lord’s on Luke’s side.

Feeling excited, I started walking towards the first group, only to be stopped by a gentle tug on my hand.

“Luke?”

At my questioning glance, he bowed with a bright smile. “May I have this dance?”

“Sure.” Fortunately the dances in this world were fairly simple, not unlike a waltz back in my old life. Finally that ballroom class I took comes in handy! As we danced, we settled into an easy rhythm, and I cast a worried look around the room. 

“Shouldn’t we be… you know…”

Luke chuckled. “Scheming?”

“Yes!”

He shook his head. “It’s only the first party. They’ll use this one to feel us out, see what cards we’re holding. If we’re too eager, they’ll be less likely to side with us in the end.”

“… If I told you, I knew exactly what each of the Lords wanted in exchange for their key, would you believe me?” I felt nervous. Graham believed that Chloe and I had psychic or prophetic powers, which was easier to explain then the concept of living in the world of a fantasy book series, but I had never used the knowledge in front of Luke openly before.

Luke’s gaze was serious as he continued to lead me through the dance. “I believe you.”

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know?” A girl who had been trapped as a slave in the Ninth Lord’s household, and then spent years in the forest hunting. How could I explain my intricate knowledge of the Ten Lord’s motivations?

I could just tell him the truth.

Even as I considered that tempting, terrifying option, he shook his head slowly. 

“I don’t need to know.” Seeing my confusion, he added. “You’re allowed to have secrets.”

“But…”

“So relax during the first party, and we’ll figure out recruiting the Lords in tomorrow night’s event.

The song ended, and Luke stepped away with a small bow. I curtsied in return, but as I straightened up, someone had stepped between us with a wide smile.

“I claim the next dance.”

Graham.

________________________________

Luke shook his head, reaching out to pull him away. “Don’t think about it.”

“Careful, brother,” Evading his grasp, Graham stepped closer to me, grabbing my arm. “If you make a scene here over a woman, it will be hard to gather support from the Lords.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the warning. “Like I care about that. Now let go…”

“It’s fine.” At my words, both men turned towards me, confused. I smiled at Luke, trying to reassure him. “It’s just a dance.”

“Are you sure?” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his brother’s hand which was holding on to me.

“Wait for me.” Pulling my arm from Graham’s grasp, I positioned myself across from him, a much more formal distance than what I had danced with Luke. “Your Highness?”

Graham frowned, but took my hands and began to lead. “Why are you treating me so coldly?”

“… Are you an idiot?” I stared at him as we danced. “You do remember that you tried to drug me last time we met?”

“Only because I love you so much.” His gaze was intense, with more than a little obsession brewing within. It was uncomfortable to face. “And I didn’t succeed, anyways. You drugged me in the end, so actually you owe me.”

I stepped on his foot. Hard. “I owe you nothing. So let’s pretend we don’t know each other.”

“Don’t fight the inevitable, Darling.” His smile widened. “We’re destined to be together.”

Is this the confidence of the main hero of a story? I remembered that in the book he had innumerable women falling in love with him. Perhaps it had messed with his head? Realizing it would be impossible to convince him through logic, I stayed silent, hoping for the dance to end. Unfortunately, Graham kept talking, and was difficult to ignore.

“After the third party, I’ll have the token back, we can announce our engagement then.”

“Don’t be delusional.” I stepped on his foot again, smiling as he winced with pain. “We’re not even friends, much less in a relationship.”

“You’re mine.”

“I’m no one’s. And you have at least eight women who would love to marry you.”

His hands tightened on my own, the grip painful. “I don’t want them.”

“And I don’t want you.” I shrugged. “That’s life.”

“Do you want my brother?” He tried to pull me closer, but I stopped on his foot hard enough to stop the motion.

Yes. “It’s not any of your business who I want.”

“Fine.” He snarled. “I’ll become King, and then you’ll have to listen.”

The song ended, and I gave a sigh of relief. Graham kept holding onto my hands, despite my less than subtle attempts to pull them free. Just as I was considering a more drastic escape strategy, which would involve kneeing him in the testicles, a voice interrupted our silent struggle.

“Brother, how good to see again! How about we trade partners for the next dance?”

I looked over to see an unfamiliar smiling face. He was obviously younger, at most seventeen or eighteen years old, his golden hair and green eyes similar to Graham. But his face was more angular, giving him a sharp, severe look, and his eyes seemed to roam around the room, stopping seemingly at random as he assessed everything before him. I felt his gaze crawl over me, and shuddered with disgust at the delighted light in his eyes.

There’s something wrong with this man.

“Fetter, what are you…?” Graham started to question him, but trailed off in shock as he saw the man’s partner. A very familiar woman.

“Hello, Your Highness.” Chloe, dressed in a long, purple gown, smiled sweetly at him.

“Chloe, you joined Fetter’s side?” I was shocked. As far as I knew, she had disliked that character in Deadly Crown, obsessed over Graham instead. 

At my question she shot be a glare, before recovering her expression. “I happened to get lost in the castle, and Prince Fetter was kind enough to offer to escort me.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Graham. “Shall we dance, Prince Graham?”

I watched, shaking my head as Graham took her hand slowly, studying her dress with a cold expression

He might be an obsessed, egotistical prick, but he’s not an idiot. Graham had been involved in intrigue since he was a small child. His mother was a scheming force to be reckoned with. Did Chloe really think he would trust her once she had shown support for Fetter?

 “Let’s dance.” As i thought it over, Fetter took advantage of my distraction, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the center of the room, ignoring Graham’s look of anger at his gesture.

________________________________

The music started up again and we began to dance.

“You don’t seem excited.”

“Why wouldn’t I be excited?” I answered in a flat tone. “I get to dance with all three princes today. I’m honored beyond all expression.”

Fetter smiled, the expression making my skin crawl. “Between dancing with the princes in a beautiful ball gown and drinking poison…?”

I thought it over. “I guess it depends on the poison. There are a few that might rank lower than this.”

“I see it.” He laughed. “I wondered why they were so desperate. But I see it now.” He leaned closer. “It’s your eyes. We’ve grown up crooked thanks to that worthless old man on the throne, never knowing what it would be like to have someone treat us as people instead of a tool to be used. Your eyes are refreshingly free of greed and desire. It’s almost as if you have no expectations from this world.”

I followed his lead silently. He was right. I didn’t have any expectations. This world was nothing but a nightmare for me, with the exception of Blade and Luke.  I honestly wasn’t sure how I had gotten here, and if or when I would return. “Your point?” After a long silence, I asked coldly.

“My brothers covet that in you. Want to preserve it, or at least steal it away and hoard it for their own.” 

I lifted an eyebrow. “And what do you want?”

“Me?” His smile grew vicious. “I want to destroy it. Break you into a thousand pieces, and watch them cry as they try to put you back together, only to break you again.”

My blood ran cold. “You’re insane.”

“We all are crazy, darling. Each and every one of us in the Royal family.  Our father wanted it that way.” He shrugged as he danced. “Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off. I’m just the most honest about it.”

Stepping away, I ignored the fact that the dance hadn’t ended, I ignored the political implications and the gossip that would be spoke about an unknown woman rudely interrupting her dance with a prince. My mind, my body, my entire being was overwhelmingly consumed by a single need.

To get away from him.

I felt it strongly. A sense of danger. A certainty of death. It hung over Fetter like a cloud, and the longer I stood next to him the more certain I was that I would not escape. I walked quickly, not noticing the mix of concerned and angry stares, until a familiar hand reached out and grabbed my own, startling me.

“Are you okay?” Luke’s face was pale as he studied my own, he looked over at Fetter and I saw hatred flare up deep within his gaze.

We all are crazy.

I shook my head silently.

“We’ll leave early.” Pulling me along, I was surprised, barely able to keep up with his pace.

“But the test...”

“It doesn’t matter.” He didn’t hesitate as he walked away. “None of it does.”

As we moved along, I heard Luke add under his breath. “As long as you’re okay.”

Feeling warm, I squeezed his hand in return, following him back to his rooms. 

________________________________

We sat down, in the dark and silent rooms, facing each other. The rooms were cold with the evening chill, the only light from the moonlight streaming in from the window. But it was enough light to see Luke’s face.

He watched me, his expression concerned, his eyes studying every inch of my features as if to etch them into his memory. There was a hint of panic in his gaze, one hand clutched tightly at his chest as he watched me, as if he was worried that I would disappear the second he looked away.

“Should we run away?” He asked quietly, his voice serious.

“Would they let us?”

“…” He leaned his head forward, laughing bitterly. “This late in the game? They’d be more likely to have us hunt down for fear it was part of a scheme.”

“Then why would you ask?”

Luke stared at me in silence for a few moments, the pain and panic becoming more clear with each passing second. “I don’t want to lose you. I won’t let them even have the chance.” 

Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off.

I couldn’t escape the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Remembering Graham’s obsessed words, Fetter’s undisguised violence… I shuddered, and reached out to hold his hand. 

He was shaking. I held his hand between both of mine, feeling him slowly calm down.

I had run away tonight. I was still afraid of dying. Of being involved in the plot too much. But I wasn’t going to run away again. 

I took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, tired sigh. “We need to talk, Luke.”

He blinked. “About what?”

“About how I got here, why I know so much, and why I refuse to have a name… it will sound crazy. You may not believe me.” I swallowed uncomfortably. “But I think it’s the key to surviving all this madness. Winning the crown if that’s what you want. But... If…after… you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”

“...”

After a brief silence Luke smiled, the expression startling clear despite the fear I could still see in his eyes. “Nothing could be crazy enough for me to want that.”

I didn’t smile back. “Then I’ll tell you about a story… called ‘Deadly Crown.’”

[katieurah]

Guys, I can’t get Elorcan as Zoommates outta my head. So I write it. And it’s a mess. But here I am posting anyways. Yikes.

Forgive my terrible attempts at writing out sounds of a coffee grinder. I hear one every morning, but still..... 

Also, still titleless.

..........................................................

Whiiirrrrrrr. Sccrrrrr. Whiiiiiirrrrr.

Lorcan glared with bleary eyes at his coffee grinder struggling to keep up with the too-large scoop he’d tossed in that morning. He opened the latch and poured the grounds out into the pour over basket and set it to steep.

Extra butter went on his toast that morning, fried eggs instead of a healthy protein shake, and regular bacon - not turkey baked in the oven. Oh, no, not today, he’d thought as he laid the strips in the cast iron pan. He needed all the grease, comfort, and caffeine life could afford him for his day.

Seven months. Seven months, one week, and four days to be exact. His goddaughter’s dedication was perfect. The day was perfect. Until.

He finished his coffee, plated his breakfast, and walked to the office to turn on his system. And brood. Apparently he was good at that.

Elide. She was the other perfect thing about that day. But, apparently he was as self-absorbed as she claimed. How did he not know about that break-up? He and Elide were friends. They had a connection. A spark. Or so he thought. 

As Rowan’s oldest friend and former military buddy, he’d always been around. He knew Elide from the start of Rowan and Aelin’s relationship. Aelin’s cousin was more like a sister and was always there. They talked. They chatted about life. He thought they were friends. Then one day, friends didn’t seem like enough. He didn’t like that she went home earlier than everyone else and he couldn’t seem to talk to her. He had tried to compose about a million different texts to her, but nothing seemed right. He followed her Instagram and Facebook, but messaging her there felt like he’d just be sliding into her DMs, which made Lorcan’s skin crawl.

But, how had he not known about the breakup? How had he not known there was someone to break up with? She never said a word. Had she? He speared his fork through an egg and watched the clock. His computer system was up and running, but he realized after Elide’s haste and hatred in logging off yesterday, they never specified times for working today. He really thought 7:00 was too early to be video calling her. Mornings were not her thing. She’d probably shoot a virus through to his system. And if anyone could get one in his through his security protocols and firewalls, it was her. 

He ran through a few of his other projects while waiting, sipping his coffee and watching the clock. As 8:30 rolled around, he logged into the chat portal to ask what time they should start. As he was typing the first words, the screen lit up with a message:

>> Okay, Salvaterre. What time are we doing this?

He smirked at the sass in those eight words.

<< Whenever you want, Lochan. I’m all set up.

>> Gimme 5.

He chuckled as he imagined her getting her area cleaned off, checking her hair, and taking deep breaths before logging on. 

The 3-tone alert for a video chat came through and Lorcan switched the camera and mic on. Here we go.

…

Elide scrambled to get her hair pulled into a semi-decent bun on her head. She was at least wearing a nicer sweater this morning, even if she was still rocking glasses and no-makeup. Deeming her work area decent enough to be seen on camera, she grabbed her iced coffee and pressed the call button. 

Deep breaths. Deep. Breaths. 

Lorcan Salvaterre was on this planet to torment her, she was sure of it. They’d been… acquaintances? Friends? Something? Ever since Aelin and Rowan had started dating, Elide and Lorcan were along for the ride. They had a lot in common. It was so easy to talk to him. They had fun together. He made her laugh. She soon wondered how easy it would be to date. To hold hands, to kiss, to… everything. But he’d never seemed interested in more than whatever it was they’d been, so she went on dates. She went out with other guys and even a few second dates. Then a real relationship. For a few months anyways. She was sure she’d told him about it. 

Anyways, who asks someone else out while they’re crying from a break up? And while they’re buzzed? Ridiculous.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join me,” Lorcan crooned, eyebrow raised, small smile on his face. She was not a morning person. Never had been. And he knew it.

“Can we not? I haven’t even finished my coffee yet and it’s too early for your….your… it’s just too early…” She groaned at not even being able to formulate snark this early.

“What you’re drinking - that’s not coffee. It’s cream and sugar pretending to be all grown up.”

“Oh, yes, because your pretentious single-sourced pour-over makes you an expert,” Elide sniped back. Lorcan always drank the strongest, blackest coffee and it was always some single-origin that he had various methods for brewing. 

It would be too easy to fall into their banter. Too easy to believe he wasn’t an asshole. She needed some distance between them before it got too comfortable.

“So, I’ve been asked to make sure support services on the public side and the internal side secure and protect privacy rights. Here’s how we’re currently trying to keep that up,” Elide said as she launched into discussing protocols, servers, firewalls, identity management systems, and anything else they thought was necessary.

Lorcan was all business, professional to a fault, and courteous as they shared information. He asked great questions and traded scenarios with her. They worked for several hours getting a feel for what each department offered and wanted.

At noon, Elide’s stomach rumbled, drawing a chuckle from Lorcan.

“Geeze, El, hiding a gremlin over there? Go eat. We can pick up after one, yeah?”

She scowled back at him. Teasing her and using a nickname? Nope. “Sure, Salvaterre,” she said shortly, trying to put distance back between them. She almost felt guilty when she thought he looked startled, but his face went back to it’s neutral, calm, emotionless expression. She logged off the video chat and rubbed her hands over her face. How was this ever going to work?

…

As the chat window went dark, Lorcan sighed through his nose. He tried. He still had no idea why her ire with him went that deep. 

Lorcan strolled to his kitchen to get his protein shake ready. Before he could start the blender, his phone chimed. He swiped at the screen to read the messages.

Young Pup: So, old man, how’s the “partnership” going?

Lorcan sighed again. Fenrys somehow knew he and Elide were working together. This couldn’t be good.

Sarge: Fine.

He watched the three dots bounce and disappear a few times. 

Young Pup: Elide’s not got your balls in a twist yet?

Hawkeye has been added to the chat.

Lorcan groaned. Fen adding Rowan wasn’t a good sign either.

Young Pup: Ro, do we need to have an intervention with El? Two days working with the old man here and yet he’s alive and responding to our messages. Somethings wrong!

Hawkeye: Fen, knock it off. 

Hawkeye: El’s a professional. I give it a week before we need to worry about her.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and didn’t even worry about checking Fenrys’ reply and put the phone on vibrate. He finished making his shake and walked to the living room. As he sat on the couch, his phone buzzed for a phone call. Glancing at the screen, Lorcan saw Rowan’s name at the top of the screen. He sighed and answered. 

“I’m playing nice, I promise.”

Rowan laughed softly on the other end. “I bet. Look, Fen found out that you needed to work with their support services department and put two and two together about Elide. Aelin and I knew that Elide’s boss was going to ask you two to work together…” He trailed off, as if he didn’t know how to finish that thought.

“Just because we haven’t seen each other or spoken in months doesn’t mean I can’t do my job,” Lorcan said, a bite to his words.

“Hey, man, I know you can. It’s not that...It’s… Look, A is just worried. You two are Ellie’s godparents and you’re at odds right now. And I’m a little worried, too, about you both. You’ll let me know if things get worse, right?”

“Yeah, man, of course.”

“Good. And-” Rowan suddenly swore. “I gotta go. Ellie’s crying and A’s in the shower. Call me later and we’ll talk, yeah?”

“Sure.” Lorcan hung up. He looked at the time, downed his shake, and went back to his computers. Security systems and technology, those things he knew. People? Women? Foreign languages to him. He still couldn’t figure out why Elide was so pissed with him. Couldn’t figure out why Rowan and Aelin thought things would get worse. And now it was affecting his job.

It was going to be a long project.

[celialestial]

Okay. Well, if I’m being honest, this episode was not the greatest. This is also the first analysis I’ve made for a show, at least that I’m posting. We’ll see how this goes. Strap in, this is going to be long. 

I think we have all learned by now that Jamie-focused episodes are never the strongest. I find it a bit ironic that in a show called Jamie Johnson, the least interesting character is Jamie himself. 

We finally saw the end of the, dare I say, idiotic Under-13s subplot. The classic “arguing friends are trapped in a room together until they make-up” trope was used to its, not fullest, but decent potential. The greatest part of this episode was the fact that their eighth-grade drama was resolved; that and the ten seconds of screentime Dillon received. Liam continues to prove that he has still not grown. Here’s my analysis of his development:

[I was going to insert a clever chart of his nonexistent growth, but I’m too lazy, sorry. Here’s a paragraph about it instead:]

Liam needs to learn that manipulating people and pretending to have changed is not maturity, it’s being an asshole. He has a terrible father, that’s true, but Dillon managed to change. Nothing has ever truly been at stake for Liam. He’s been able to lie and manipulate others to get out of all the trouble he’s caused. He was given a second chance to play with the Under-13s and has continued to use those around him in order to seem, I don’t know. Big? Powerful? All he has done is made the Three Musketeers dislike him even more. He has done absolutely nothing to earn their trust. I could go on and on about Liam Simmonds, which I suppose proves he’s an interesting character (that’s more than I can say about some people *cough* Jamie *cough*). 

Eric learns that Aisha has feelings for him too. Yay! He also learns that Aisha is much smarter and more mature than him, choosing to step back and give him time to be with his friends. Yay? Freddie has been incredibly weird this season. I can’t tell if he genuinely liked Aisha as more than a friend, or if he thought he was supposed to, given how much Eric liked her. This entire storyline comprised of way too much unnecessary drama. Looking at Instagram comments, however, it seems that it was very popular among younger kids. I suppose I am a bit too old to be criticizing middle school relationship drama in a children’s show. Poor Alba was practically thrown to the dogs in favor of a petty love triangle. All of their problems were wrapped up so neatly, it felt a bit uncomfortable. Like they didn’t deserve this ending. 

I don’t know if it’s just me, but something about this episode seemed off. When comparing it to other episodes with similar premises, the lack of emotion and genuineness becomes obvious. Take episode 10, for example, there were many (and I mean many) subplots. It was a little all over the place. And yet, the end of the episode left me feeling bittersweet, intrigued, and wanting more. This episode didn’t do that. I am sick of Jamie’s bullshit and tired of this dumb love triangle. Thankfully, the latter is complete now. 

Onto Jamie’s storyline:

1) I told y’all Jetpac11 would be Jethro! These are some big brain hours.

2) This boy is supposed to be the TITLE character. His storyline is meant to be the most in depth, the most interesting, and, above all else, the most entertaining. It is none of those things. The stakes are supposed to be high, and they are, but they don’t feel like it? He supposedly lost his place at Hawkstone over a goddamn video game. Why don’t I feel anything except contempt? If not frustration at Jamie, then frustration at Ian, who I suppose I should be used to by now. Everyone says Jamie should know better than to trust him after all he’s done. That he should just listen to Mike. Obviously that’s true, but Ian was on his side, not the other way around. Ian enabled Jamie and allowed him to make a stupid decision, one that has huge consequences. Ian didn’t tell Jamie to keep playing for his own gain, well, kind of. He let Jamie keep playing because he though it would make him happy and regain his trust. It’s the same reason Mike lied to Hawkstone. Both adults displayed extremely poor judgement, Ian just far more so, as always. I must admit that I have zero interest in video games. I also have zero interest in soccer (or, rather, football). Yet this show keeps me interested in the matches and invested in the characters. They have failed at maintaining my interest in this video gaming storyline. Part of this could be because I find Jamie boring and repetitive, or maybe he simply seems that way due to the plethora of vastly more compelling side characters. All I have learned from this is that Jamie is a pretty terrible friend, a poor judge of character, and impulsive. These are all faults he has had since season 1, except he used to be a genuinely decent friend. He has grown more self-involved and one-sighted (and one-sided, as in one-dimensional, or you could take it literally, seeing as one leg is currently out of commission). I get that he was hit by a car and his leg is broken. He doesn’t see a future in soccer for himself anymore. Mike is right, though, he should be focused on getting better and being able to play again. I don’t even like Mike most of the time -- I honestly find him fairly annoying, although this may be due to the acting -- but he is the only sane one in the Johnson family right now. Both of Jamie’s parents are enabling him and Mike has too, though only for around an episode and a half. I am so happy this storyline will be resolved next week. I am sure we will still be left with a cliffhanger at the end, as with every season. 

Dillon also got a bit of screentime in this episode (wow, a whole twenty seconds!). I really do like the way the writers are portraying how conflicted he is. He is torn between living a lie or risking his future as a professional player. I understand why they introduced Elliot. He was Dillon’s first crush and I think he was necessary for Dillon to come to terms with his sexuality. Where they messed up with Elliot, however, is by entirely removing him from the show after he fulfilled his purpose of giving Dillon the strength to come out. Just as @mcustorm said, he was a plot device and it was out of character for him to out Dillon. I could probably write a whole essay about how dirty both Elliot and Kat were done. The only way using exclusively Ruby to further Dillon’s storyline would’ve worked was if they kept the whole “Ruby has a crush on Dillon” thing from season 4. Doing that would likely ruin their entire dynamic as best friends and make things awkward. If they had done that and made, say Harry or Michel his first crush, they wouldn’t need Elliot to be Dillon’s first real crush. Although, Dillon was only around 11 or 12, and most real crushes don’t hit until 13-14, at least in my experience. Also if they had ruined Dillon and Ruby’s dynamic, then Dillon would have no real support system. I can’t really see Ruby abandoning Dillon over this, though, even if she had an unrequited crush. 

Next week should wrap up both Jamie’s and Dillon’s storylines. It will also be the final episode of season 5! A lot to look forward to and a lot to be absolutely terrified of, not to mention the fact that season 6 production has been postponed for obvious reasons. 

TL;DR:

It’s the end of the Under-13s drama! And possibly the end of Aisha, knowing how JJ deals with its newly irrelevant characters.

Jamie is being stupid and probably lost his chances of getting into Hawkstone. Or maybe not, considering he’s the protagonist of a kid’s show. JJ does have a habit of dealing out real consequences, though, so who knows.

Dillon got... something? He’s feeling conflicted, which is entirely natural, especially at this stage in his coming out. 

Next week is the last episode! Stay tuned for more, I guess. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this type of proper analysis. 

[gryffindorcls]

Endgame:  Chapter 1 (Totographs and Grotographs)

WARNING:  SEASON 3 FINALE SPOILERS

Hello, lovely readers!  Strap in and get ready because this is going to be a wild ride!

Welcome to chapter 1 of my ideal season 4 for Miraculous Ladybug. While we will see hints of other ships in this, it is primarily a love-square fic. I am writing this to heal my heart after the season 3 finale.

Enjoy!

---

Marinette sat on her bed and stared at the pile of pictures she’d just ripped off her wall. As she carefully removed the images, she placed each one upside down. As much as she still loved Adrien, she didn’t want to look at his face...besides, it was already burned into her mind. The pain was still fresh, and she was doing her best to not make it hurt any more than it already did.

She sniffled and Tikki landed on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” the tiny red being asked with sympathetic eyes.

“No,” she sighed, hanging her head.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be. A lot of things happened really fast.”

The teen choked back a sob. “No, Tikki. Everything changed. EVERYTHING! I keep going between moments where things feel okay and then they’re suddenly not again. I love being Ladybug, but it’s still a lot. We lost Master Fu...I...I don’t know if I’m ready to be the Guardian. I still have to go to school. I still have to help in the bakery. I still have to fight Akumas. I still...I can’t just be a normal kid, can I?”

Tikki hugged her holder’s cheek. “Oh, Marinette...I hate to tell you this, but you were never destined to be ‘normal’. You were chosen for this, and you are one of the strongest wielders I’ve ever had. You are incredible, and now you’re the Guardian.”

“It’s too much. It’s all too much. I need time, but I feel like I don’t have any...and now I’m all alone. I have no one to go to for guidance.”

“I will always be here for you, Marinette, and you can always talk to Chat Noir.”

“But Chat isn’t the Guardian, and I can’t really talk to him about all of this without giving away too much about my identity.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Tikki paused before continuing. “The whole secret identities thing. You weren’t wrong when you said that everything changed. It was never a rule for the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous wielders to stay hidden from each other forever. That was the doing of a man who was afraid of his past coming back to haunt him. You and Chat are meant to be equal partners, and as the Guardian, it would be beneficial for you to know who he is if there was ever an emergency. This Miracle Box is in your care now. You get to set the rules.”

Something seized inside of Marinette. “Trust me when I say that I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think I can do that right now. I need something to stay the same for a while.”

“I understand. It probably doesn’t help that...well...you know.” Tikki gestured towards the pictures on Marinette’s bed.

“I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I think I will be, but I need to figure things out first.

“It will all make sense soon.”

Before Marinette could respond, her phone chimed. She looked down at the name attached to the message and smiled.

Luka: You still seemed a little stressed earlier today when we got ice cream. Are you feeling any better?

Marinette: I’m fine. Thank you for asking.

Luka: I’m always here if you need to talk.

Marinette: I know...thank you again. Goodnight!

Luka: Goodnight, Marinette. May you fall asleep to the sweetest melodies in your head.

Marinette sighed and slipped her phone into her pocket. She picked up the photos and walked down the ladder. When her feet landed on the floor, she padded over to her desk, opened a drawer, and buried the pictures beneath several used sketchbooks.

“Are you really sure that you want to do this?” Tikki asked with a worried glance.

Tears began to reform in the corners of Marinette’s eyes. “Yes, Tikki. I need to try and move on. Adrien is with Kagami now, and I don’t want to lose either of them as friends.”

“But you still love him.”

“I know, and I think I always will...but I just want him to be happy. And he was so happy with Kagami. I can’t take that away from him.”

“Are they actually dating each other? I don’t recall hearing anyone say that they were officially a couple.”

Tears began to flow freely down Marinette’s cheeks. “It doesn’t matter! If they’re not dating yet, they will be soon. Did you see how he looked at her? I can’t get in the way of that...I can’t…”

Marinette sunk to the floor and held herself. While sobs racked her body, Tikki nuzzled the top of her holder’s head and hummed.

“I don’t want you to get Akumatized,” Tikki whispered in her ear.

“I hate this! I hate all of this! I can’t even feel sad when I’m upset. I hate Hawkmoth, I hate the Akumas, I hate not being able to be myself! I have to lie to everyone! I’m all alone. I can’t tell anyone about this...I even have Luka telling me that I can talk to him at any time, and I can’t even do that!”

“You should really consider talking to Chat Noir.”

“I TOLD YOU I CAN’T!”

“Yes, you can! He’s your partner. You don’t have to tell him everything...just talk to him about your fears and your feelings. He’s a good person, and he cares about you. If you ask to talk, he will listen.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“I think you’ll find that you can talk to him. You have patrol later...speak with Chat Noir then. You two must be there for each other from now on. You need to be each other’s support systems. It was different when Master Fu was here, but he’s no anymore.”

Marinette’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I know.”

Tikki offered her holder a small smile. “What can I do to help you feel better until you have to go on patrol?”

“I...ummm...actually...I-I need some time to think,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m...uh...sorry for yelling. Thank you for talking with me. I will...umm...take your suggestion into consideration. I’ll be up on my balcony if you need me.”

The tiny red being nodded and zipped away to her cozy nest of soft fabric scraps and polyfill while her holder climbed out the hatch leading to the balcony. Once there, Marinette wrapped herself in a blanket and sad huddled on a lawn chair. Silent tears continued to streak her face while she stared off into the distance.

A soft breeze gently caressed her face while Marinette took a deep breath and embraced the stillness of the evening. She did her best to put herself into a bubble--to shut out the world around her and focus exclusively on her thoughts and feelings. The world may count on Ladybug to save the day, but Marinette was desperate to find her own safety and security. She’d been thrown into a world of uncertainty, and she was terrified.

With the failing light of day came a sense of closure. The sun was setting on one chapter of her life, and the break of dawn would force her to turn to the next page of her story.

A throbbing fear pulsed through her veins like a dull ache as she gripped the blanket closer to her body. She was responsible for so much now...and she didn’t know if she was ready for all that was to come. The departure of Master Fu ushered in a new reality where Marinette would be looked to for guidance and instruction.

She squeezed her eyes shut and allowed herself to feel. It was a luxury that she was not often given due to the nature of Hawkmoth’s Akumas. In her attempt to control the trepidation that had settled in her gut, she was struck with a sense of familiarity.

A breathy laugh sounded through her next sob as she recalled the day she’d received her Miraculous and thought she was a failure after forgetting to cleanse Stoneheart’s Akuma. The emotions swirling inside her now mirrored the doubt that she felt when her adventure as Ladybug began.

A pair of bright green eyes filled with compassion and understanding flooded her mind as she recalled how she overcame her first hurdle as one of Paris’ beloved superheroes. Her partner’s encouraging words on that day resonated throughout her being and began to fill her with hope for the future.

Marinette let her mind wander. “Maybe Tikki is right...Chat has always been there for me. He was there for me in the beginning, and he was there for me today...every time...I can always count on him...I can…”

“Princess?” a voice questioned, breaking her out of her reverie.

“Chat Noir,” she whispered while seeking solace in his gaze.

, “Are you okay?”

Marinette turned her face away from Chat and hastily wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

“I’m fine,” she croaked.

He took a step closer to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What are you doing here? Doesn’t Chat Noir have something better to do than sit here and talk to someone like me?”

“Well, I have patrol with Ladybug soon, and your house is on the way to our meeting place. That...and it’s my job to make sure that the people of Paris are safe from Akumas...and I think that includes working to prevent citizens from getting Akumatized, as well.”

“I guess...yeah.”

Chat knelt down next to her and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m not leaving until I know that you’re going to be okay. No one cries like that and is happy. I may not be the best at reading people, but you’re making it pretty obvious how you’re feeling right now.”

“But you don’t even know me,” she replied with a trembling lip.

“Oh, contraire, Princess. I think I do. I saw your bravery the day you helped me with the Evillustrator. You extended the hand of friendship to me after your dad was Akumatized. You even tried to cheer me up when I was heartbroken.”

“Okay...I suppose we’re not complete strangers.”

“No, we’re not, and I for one wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. I can always use a friend...well, I have friends, but I don’t really feel like I can tell them everything. Does that make sense?”

Marinette scoffed. “More than you know.”

Chat backed away and leaned against the railing. “So...would you like to tell me what’s wrong? I have two ears that are willing to listen if it’ll make you feel better.”

Thoughts raced through Marinette’s mind as she basked in the sincerity behind Chat Noir’s expression. “He can’t know yet...I’m not ready...I just need more time. Don’t give anything away, but you need to say something. Just...just tell him…”

“There’s so much...I-I don’t really know where to start,” she said with a shrug.

He nodded. “Okay, I get that. Trust me. I’ve been there, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. Maybe...try to pick one thing. What was it that broke the camel’s back? What upset you to the point that you felt like you had to come outside?”

“The thought of talking to you...wait, you can’t tell Chat that. Try something else...I don’t want to lie...SAY SOMETHING, MARINETTE.”

“A boy,” she finally mumbled.

“Oh.” Chat turned his head away. “Is it the same boy as last time?”

Memories of Adrien flooded her mind and a new wave of pain filled her gut. She’d been so careful all day. She’d removed his pictures from her wall in an attempt to erase the need to dwell on what she’d seen. Until this moment, she’d been trying to ignore the ache that came with the sudden loss of Adrien as an available love interest. She’d been using the sadness from saying goodbye to Master Fu to keep her heart from completely shattering, but now that she’d started talking about her crush, her heart was falling to pieces.

“Yes.” Her lip trembled as she tried to hold back tears.

Without warning, the floodgates opened once again, and Marinette was reduced to a puddle of heartache. She curled up on the lawn chair and smashed her face into the blanket. Each sob felt like a knife in her chest, and soon it became hard to breathe.

Just as she began gasping for air, two strong arms wrapped around her and held her tight. The warmth coming from Chat’s body and the steady beating of his heart alleviated the pressure on her chest. As her breathing returned to normal, she melted into his embrace.

“It’s just like the hug from before...when I was sad during the Akuma battle.”

“You give magic hugs,” she mumbled into his suit.

He chuckled. “I’m glad I could do something. Princess, I don’t ever want to see you cry like that again.”

“I can’t promise that I won’t...Chat...I...he…” Marinette could feel a fresh batch of tears brimming along her eyelid.

Chat squeezed her tighter against his chest. “Shhhh...no, it’s okay. It’ll all be okay. Please don’t cry again. You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”

“It’s all so new...he loves someone else, and I let him go. The worst part is...I still have to see him all the time. He doesn’t even know that I am...was...am? I don’t know...AM...I don’t think it’ll ever go away. He doesn’t know how I feel. I love him with everything inside of me, and I have to figure out how to move on. I just want him to be happy.”

“Wow.” Chat released Marinette and shook his head. “I guess we’re both trying that whole ‘moving on’ thing, huh?”

Marinette wiped her face with the back of her hand and furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

“No, Princess. I don’t want to talk about my own love problems. This is about you, not me.”

“Chat...I think I could use a distraction from my own problems.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Umm...Ladybug has made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t want to be with me...romantically. Another girl tried to kiss me today, and I kind of freaked out...but I don’t know...maybe I’ll try dating her?”

Marinette suddenly felt funny hearing Chat talk about another girl, but she quickly pushed the sensation away. “Is there a reason why you freaked out?”

“I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“You seemed to be ready to have a relationship with Ladybug.”

“That’s different...Ladybug is...different. When I’m with her, I feel complete. A life without her is like a life without oxygen, but this other girl told me that she loved me...and it’s kind of nice to feel loved. I don’t get a lot of that...and she’s nice, and I’m trying. However, I can’t help but feel like something is missing when I’m with her. It’s as if I can’t be myself.”

“Can I be honest?”

“I would love it if you were honest.”

Marinette smiled. “Chat, you deserve to be with someone who loves you for all that you are. You might be goofy and reckless sometimes, but there is never a moment that you are not brave, kind, or loyal.”

He smirked. “And how would you know that I’m brave, kind, and loyal?”

“Because I’ve seen you in action. Not just on the Ladyblog, but in person...remember?”

“Yeah...I guess so. Thanks. I just don’t know what to do right now. I want to be happy, but I just don’t know if this is the way to make it happen.”

“Ummm...maybe try a date or two with this girl? See how it goes? Maybe it’ll help you move on.”

“There’s a part of me...well, a large part of me...that doesn’t want to move on. Is it really fair to this other girl to be with her when I’m hopelessly in love with Ladybug?”

“Maybe it’s not hopeless,” Marinette mumbled.

“Woah...where did that come from? Don’t give him false hope.” She quickly brushed the thought away.

He scrunched his face. “Huh?”

“Uh...what I meant was...try things out with the other girl, and umm...try to find happiness?”

“But what if things don’t work out?” He hung his head.

Seeing the pained expression on her partner’s face tugged hard at her heartstrings. Marinette hated seeing Chat with a frown on his face because he seemed like the kind of person who should be happy all the time. She knew that he deserved happiness.

The more that she got to know Chat, the more she started to understand what his civilian life might be like. There were more than enough occasions that he’d said something concerning, but today she saw just how lonely he must be.

If anything, he kind of reminded her of Adrien...a person who chose to be kind despite terrible circumstances. If she couldn’t make Adrien happy, then maybe she could focus her energy on helping Chat Noir.

Marinette got up, walked over to Chat, and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Well, if it doesn’t work out, you’re always welcome to come here and eat cookies with me.”

He perked up. “Wait...do you really mean that?”

“I do. I could always use another friend, too. Why not get to know one of the heroes of Paris a little bit better?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re amazing, Marinette?”

“Adrien did.”

She sighed. “Yes, but it’s still nice hearing it from you.”

They stood in silence until Chat jumped, grabbed his baton, and looked at the screen. “Oh, no...I’m...uh...I have to go. A lot happened today, and I have patrol soon. I can’t be late. I...umm...are you okay?”

Marinette wrapped her arms around him and gave him the warmest embrace she could muster. “Yes, I’m going to be just fine...thanks to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“So...is the invitation to come back and talk only there if my love life crashes and burns or…”

“Chat Noir, you are welcome to come here whenever you want so long as it is a decent hour.”

He smiled. “Alright...I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Princess. Have a wonderful night. I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you soon.” She waved as he bounded off across the rooftops.

Within seconds of his departure, Marinette climbed back into her bedroom and called for her Kwami.

“Well, that sure was a surprise!” the tiny red being said enthusiastically.

“Yeah...maybe this will be a good thing. He can get to know me before I reveal myself to him.”

“So you’ve decided to tell him! I’m so proud of you, Marinette!”

“Not just yet...I still need…time. But now that I’ve talked to Chat Noir, I think I’m ready to go talk to him again...as Ladybug. I think it’s time to start being honest with my partner. It’s the only way we’re going to get through all of this.”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that! I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

For the first time all day, Marinette felt a wave of confidence surge through her body. “TIKKI, SPOTS ON!”

Next —> (Coming Soon)

AO3

Fanfiction.net

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary- Chapter 62 “THE RIVER”

Warnings: none

Tagging: @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @thunderintheshadows​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

AUTHOR’S NOTE:   A HUGE THANK YOU TO EVERYONE THAT LIKED, REBLOGGED, COMMENT OR EVEN JUST READ. THIS IS IT. WE’VE REACHED THE END.  IT’S BEEN A HECK OF A JOURNEY TO SAY THE LEAST.  PART THREE BEGINS TOMORROW :)

On day five, Yaz contacts the house.  

The past forty-eight hours had been uneventful; no text messages or phone calls demanding his attention, no one attempting to change his mind or get him ‘back into the fold’.  Nothing that has come close to even remotely triggering his anxiety or his PTSD; the outside world has left him in peace and his system is finally responding to the medications he’s faithfully putting into it.  And he’s had things to keep his mind busy and his hands busy; helping with the kids, the packing up of the house, and dealing with realtors and banking specialists and tracking down schooling information in Australia. He hasn’t had the time to think about the job; about New Zealand and the McMann kids and if things were running smoothly or not.  Too busy devoting his time and his energy to his own family.

He’s just stepped back into kitchen when he hears the phone ring; shirtless and in board shorts, body still damp from entertaining the kids in the pool., leaving them with Ovi after being the one sent on a mission to grab snacks and juice boxes.  He can hear Esme in the front room; talking to both Declan and Mac as they keep her company while packing boxes. While the furniture will stay, most of their other belongings will go into storage; taking their time to decide just what items from their past life they want to bring into their new one.  

Snagging the phone off the counter on the third ring, Tyler frowns at the name and number that appears on the call display.  He carries it with him as he heads down the hall and into the room where his wife has Declan by the hand, helping him practice his walking. It’s his favourite thing to do now; using whoever or whatever he can get his hands on to pull himself up onto his feet and use as support as he toddles around. Sometimes it’s even an extremely patient and tolerant Mac, who allows those little hands to tightly grip his fur.

“He is getting so strong,” Esme gushes, and there’s a proud, brilliant smile that spreads from ear to ear.  “I don’t think it will be too much longer until he’s walking on his own. He’s determined. Never gives up. Just like you.”

“I need you to do something for me.”

She frowns. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“He’s going to call back. I need you to answer. See what he wants.”

“Who? Who’s going to call?”

“Yaz. He’s probably calling to tell me about New Zealand. I don’t want to talk to him. Can you do it?”

“Don’t you think it’s better to hear it for yourself?” She scoops Declan up when he begins to fuss; angry that he can’t bridge the gap between the end of the coffee table and his father’s legs.  For the most part he’s been the sweet and cuddly one; the most affectionate when it comes to seeking or giving.  But while it takes a lot for him to unleash it, he has a hell of a temper.  “I mean, it was your thing.”

“Do it for me? Please? I don’t want to talk to him. To any of them.”

“Okay,” she relents, and then passes Declan over in exchange for the phone. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good all of a sudden.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her, and then gives her a chaste kiss to the lips and another to the forehead before leaving the room.

****

An hour later she finds him on the back deck, sitting in one of the oversized wooden chairs with his legs stretches out in front of him; hands clasped together and resting against his stomach. Sunglasses on as he watches Ovi -with Declan on his hip- and the kids tend to feeding the goats and chickens.  And she stands silently alongside of him, his cell phone in one hand, the other shielding her eyes from the sun as she observes Ovi teaching Declan how to hold the chicken feed in his palms.

“Do you want to know?” she asks. “About New Zealand?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler replies. “Do I?”

She nods, then perches herself on his left thigh. Both of his arms circling her waist and one of her hands come up to rest at the back of his neck, finger nails lightly scratching that the bottom of his hair line.

“They got the kids,” she says.  “Nathan was able to get them out. And himself.”

He nods slowly. “Hurt?”

‘Nothing too serious. Took a bullet to the right arm but it was a through and through and it didn’t cause any real damage. Zak wasn’t so lucky. He went in to help and got pretty messed up.  Yaz didn’t really go into details. Just said that Zak was in the hospital and it was pretty touch and go at first but doctors are ‘cautiously optimistic’ that he’ll pull through.”

“Better than dead,” Tyler reasons. “And the kids?”

“Dehydrated. Malnourished. They’ll be in the hospital for a little bit. Yaz said they’d been put through hell. The abuse was pretty bad. Worse than any of us thought it would be.”

Tyler sighs heavily and tightens his hold on her.

“When they’re well enough, they’ll be reunited with their mom.  “Nik’s arranged a safe house for them out of the country when they’re good to go. Yaz thought maybe you’d want to know. You were pretty invested in things and you were the one that taught Nathan everything he needed to know. So you did your part. In getting those kids out.”

He nods.

“He wants to contact you. Nathan. I said I didn’t know if you were ready for that yet. But I put his information in your cell. Just in case. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“You’re disappointed aren’t you. That you weren’t there. That you weren’t the one to get those kids out.”  

“A little,” he admits. “It’s the first time I’ve ever bailed on a job.”

“You had a good reason,” she reminds him. “A very good and valid reason.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier. It’s a blow to the ego. When you have to admit you’re not even half the man you used to be.”

“You know that’s not true, Tyler. You just didn’t want to be that man anymore. Everyone has their breaking point. No matter how tough and strong they are. And one day they reach it and they’ve just had enough. You’d had enough. There’s no shame to be found in that.”

He merely gives another nod. It’s not that simple; giving up one life for the other. Even if you do know it’s the best decision for both yourself and your family. You get used to it: the adrenaline, the excitement, even the glimmers of fear.  They all become a piece of who you are; they feed you, nourish you. And it’s a hard blow when they’re taken away. Even if it was a conscious decision to let them go.

“It takes a strong man to admit when he’s finally had enough. To know his limits. That’s what bravery is, Tyler. Knowing when something is going to break you and having enough strength to not let it happen.”  She lays her hand on the side of his face; fingers pressing into his jaw as she turns her head towards her. “And you’re the strongest man I’ve ever met.”

He gives a small smile, one arm slipping from around her waist and his hand coming to rest on her thigh as she leans in to kiss him. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Her lips warm and soothing against his.

She wraps both arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder.  And they’re silent as they watch their family; the older kids chasing each other with the running garden hose, a beaming and content Ovi holding Declan by both hands as he toddles through the grass.  

It should be enough. This kind of life. A wife and kids. Domesticity. Routine. Yet there’s an emptiness Tyler can’t quite explain.  It’s only be a few days; it’s still fresh and he’s still trying to get used to the idea that this is it for him. There will be no more phone calls from Nik. No more jobs. No more putting his life on the line for complete strangers. No more taking lives.  And that should be comforting.  It should be a welcome relief. But all he feels is regret.  Even guilt.   And disappointment. In himself.

“Mark’s dead,” Esme announces, no emotion registering on her face or in her eyes, and she presses her nose to his temple and rests her brow against the side of his head.

“How?”

“Nathan killed him. He didn’t have a choice. Mark showed up looking for you. To finish what McMann couldn’t. I guess he went on a rampage when he found out that you had left. Threatened to kill the kids. So Nathan took care of it.”

“Well…at the risk of sounding like a complete fucking asshole…”

“He had it coming,” she finishes for him.

Tyler nods, the softly rubs her thigh. “You okay?”

“Does it make me a horrible person that I feel…I don’t know…nothing? Even when Yaz told me, I felt nothing. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t sad. I just didn’t care. Holy fuck, I’m a terrible person, aren’t I.”

“No baby, you’re not,” he assures her, as he presses a kiss to her cheek, then rubs the tip his nose against her temple. “You’re not a terrible person at all.”

“Maybe I do feel something. Relief.  A whole lot of relief. Because that chapter of my life is officially over. He doesn’t exist anymore. Which means he can take all his bullshit to hell with him.  I don’t have to hold onto it anymore. I’ve been holding on it for far too long and I’m tired,” she lays her head on his shoulder once more, her knuckles repeatedly rubbing against his head.  “I’m tired of letting it drag me down.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Tyler assures her, stroking her back with the palm of her hand.  “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You can just let all that shit go. Same way I’m letting all my shit go.”

“I’m sorry I ever brought him into things. That I was dumb enough to trust him.”

“You’d thought he’d turned over a new leaf. That’s not dumb. Hopeful, maybe? Naïve, even?”

“I should have known better. That he was incapable of real change. He tried to kill you. Or tried to help someone kill you. Which is bad enough. And he didn’t even care that I was there and would have been caught up in it. He knew what they’d to do me and he didn’t even give a shit. What kind of person does things like that?”

“A sick fuck, that’s who. And I don’t want to talk about this. About McMann’s house. And what could have happened. I can’t talk about that.” Of all the things that will continue to haunt him…perhaps even for the rest of his life…that will be the one haunts him the most. How close he’d come to not only losing her, but having to witness what they would have done to her before finally killing her.

“And I’m sorry for the last five and a half years,” she says, tears welling in her eyes. “That I made you feel like you were constantly being compared to him. Because that’s not what I was trying to do. At all. I was never comparing you to him.”

“I know you weren’t,” he squeezes shoulder. “I know.”

“It was a shitty thing for me to do,” she wipes at the tears that manage to escape. “To treat you like that. You didn’t deserve that. And you put up with it and you stuck around and I still don’t understand why.”

“Because I love you,” he turns his face into hers and places his lips against her forehead. “And because I’m a stubborn asshole that likes punishment,” he teases.

She gives a small laugh.  “I don’t know how you can love me so much when I don’t even love myself.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, right? To teach you how to love yourself. And you know how much I love a good challenge and that I don’t give up easily.”

“I’m just so sorry,” she cries in earnest now, face against the side of his throat, one arm around his neck, the other along his collarbone. “I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to love someone. When you’re so used to the worst, it’s hard to get used to the best. And I’m sorry that I made you work so hard. That I made you feel shit or like I didn’t love you…”

“I never thought that. I’ve never thought that.”

“Because I do. Love you. With everything I am and everything I have.”

“I love you, too. I always have. I always will.”

She’s smiling as she lifts her head from his shoulder. “Even when I’m a huge bitch?”

He grins and presses a kiss to her brow before drawing her head back down to rest on him once more. “Even then.”

****

On the fifth night they sit with Ovi on the front porch. Sipping warm drinks and chatting; enjoying the cool breeze and the sounds of the crickets in the bushes. Tyler and Esme on the swing, her body turned sideways with her back resting against his side, one of his forearms laying across her collarbone. Ovi sit on the front in front of them; cross legged with an old plaid blanket draped over his shoulders and back. The conversation is light; memories they’ve shared while in Colorado, funny things that the kids have said or done, the holidays and birthdays that have been celebrated.

Ovi had turned fifteen his first years with them, and when he’d woken up that morning he’d been shocked to find his bedroom door covered in balloons and streamers, and presents waiting for him when he got downstairs. His birthday had never been celebrated before, and he’d been so overwhelmed by their generosity and their love that he’d cried. Both then and when they’d taken him out for dinner and given him a birthday cake.  And Christmas had become one of his favourite times of the year; the delicious food, the decorations, helping put lights on the house and getting to play with the kids in the snow. All the things he’d never would have gotten to experience if Tyler had not gone to that prison in Mumbai and convinced Mahajan Senior to give them guardianship.

“We’ve come a long way,” Ovi muses, as he stares out into the night, the palms of his hands resting on the sides of a mug of hot chocolate. “Since Dhaka.”

The memories are still there. For all of them. It’s dark and it’s painful and sometimes it is all still so raw.  Each of them tarnished and broken in their own ways; physically and mentally.   The scars may linger on the surface, but the real damage was on the inside, and it was taking longer to heal than any of them had ever expected. And maybe it never would. Maybe there’d always be that lingering agony; a nightmare that they just can’t wake up from.

It has been harder for Ovi, naturally. He’d been a kid when it all happened; his father’s mistakes forcing him into sheer and utter hell. It has caused long term damage; depression, anxiety, periods of self harm and wanting to kill himself. All of which they’ve supported him through and still continue to do so.  It goes way past simply having guardianship of someone. He is a valuable and respected member of their family.  Loved as if he’s one of their own. And he is. Maybe not biologically. But the way he fills a place in their hearts and in their lives is clear that he is their child.

Esme senses the change in the teenager; the darkness that suddenly creeps in and wipes the smile from his face. He was always smiling; even when he didn’t have a reason to. And she swings both her legs over the edge of the swing; sitting up properly and she wraps her arms around his neck from behind. Squeezing tightly as she drops a kiss on the top of his head. He’s changed so much. No longer that young boy she’d tried to comfort in the factory they’d taken refuge in; trying to distract him by asking questions about schools and sports and girls. Perhaps that’s when their bond began; when she’d stopped worrying about her own issues and her own fear and had started mothering a perfect stranger. A drug lord’s kid that Nik had wanted them to leave in the street. As if he was nothing more than garbage that needed to be discarded.

He appreciates the gesture of love and comfort; briefly closing his eyes as he leans his head back against her.

“I often wonder what happened,” she says, as she tousles his hair. “To that girl you told me about.”

He laughs at that. “So do I. Sometimes. But I have Chloe now. No one else matters.”

“And that’s how it starts,” Tyler speaks up.  “One day you wake up and you can’t remember anyone else that came before them. And you don’t want to.”

Esme smiles over her shoulder at him, and he gives a grin of his own and a wink, then reaches out to rub her back.  “I completely underestimated you,” she says. “I was totally expecting some smart ass comment and you came out with that.”

“It’s the ones you least expect,” Ovi laughs. “You know, I hope one day that Chloe and I are like you guys.  The way you love each other. How you never give up on one another even when things get really bad. You’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for each other. If that makes sense.”

“Makes total sense,” Esme says, and hugs him even tighter.  “I hate that you’re growing up so quick,” she laments. “That you’re not little Ovi anymore.  You’re not that kid who was telling me about girls and school and the kinds of movies he liked. Now you’ve got a serious girlfriend and you’re going to be living here and pretty soon you’ll get married and have babies and…”

Tyler groans. “Not this again.”

“It’s true!” she insists. “Whether you want to admit it or not, it’s going to happen.”

“Let him get out of his teens before you have him getting married and having kids, yeah? Jesus.”

“Well Tyler may be living in denial but I’m not,” she kisses Ovi’s cheek. “You know, sometimes I miss that Ovi. The one that would want to come and sleep with me every time Tyler was away. Because you’d have nightmares and you didn’t want to be alone. But I really like this Ovi. You’re brave and you’re strong and you’ve got a huge heart. I hope you never lose any of those things.  And what you did for us? When Tyler asked you to take the kids and run? That was huge. We trusted you with the most precious, important things in our lives and you did incredible. You kept them safe. And I could never thank you enough for that.”

He simply nods, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he struggles with emotion. “I did what I had to do.”

“I’m proud of you,” she says. “We’re proud of you.”

That’s all it takes for the tears to escape; sliding down his face as he turns towards her, both arms wrapping around her waist, face burying in her stomach. Just like that he’s a kid again; his body trembling as he cries, hands tightly gripping the back of her sweater. And she holds him just like she used to when he’d have nightmares and she’d go into his room to check on him; one hand in the middle of his back moving in slow comforting circles, the fingers of the other combing through his hair.  It’s soothing; before long his body stops shaking and he’s sniffling noisily as he moves away from her, wiping at the remnants of his tears with the backs of his hands. And she presses a kiss to his cheek and ruffles his hair.

“You know what I really hated?” Ovi asks, still sniffling. “In Dhaka?”

“The sewer.”

He and Esme say it at the same time, and he looks over his shoulder at her; both of them erupting into laughter.

“If I never see another rat again, it will be too soon,” Ovi declares.

“Well it’s a good thing you never met my ex husband,” Esme says. “Because he was probably the biggest rat out there.”

Tyler chuckles at that.

“As much as I would love to sit here all discussing the most disgusting sewer on the planet, I am beat.  And I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so…” she presses a kiss to Ovi’s cheek and then pats his shoulders before standing. “…I’m going to bed. You boys be good. Don’t get too wild and crazy. No inviting any strippers over. I don’t want to spend the next week vacuuming body glitter out of the carpets and furniture.”

“I won’t be long,” Tyler tells her, a hand on her hip as she leans over to kiss her. “I’ll be up soon.”

“No rush. You guys spend some time together. It’s been a while.”

He nods, then gives her a small pat on the butt before she gathers up their empty mugs and heads inside the house.

****

Tyler sits beside him now; next to each other on the top step.  Eerily reminiscent of that night in Gaspar’s house after Ovi had shot and killed him, when the kid had clung to him and cried about wanting to go home. Tyler had kept his promise; doing whatever it took to get Ovi there. Even at the expense of his own life.

Five and a half years he realizes that home for Ovi had never actually was that cold and sterile mansion in Mumbai. It never really had been. It was wherever they’d brought him along to. Starting with the crowded basement at Esme’s mothers, continuing with a handful of small yet quaint hotel rooms, and then ending with that farm house in rural Telluride, Colorado. And it would be Australia next. In a place on the beach; with quiet, solitude, privacy.  Where they could continue to heal. Together.

“That text message you sent,” Tyler begins. “I didn’t know what to say back. Hope you didn’t think I was an asshole. With what I sent back.”

Ovi shakes his head. “I didn’t expect you to send anything back,” he says. “I just sent it because…” he shrugs. “…because I felt I needed to say it. And because maybe you needed to hear it.”

Tyler nods. “I did. Need to hear it. Because I’ve been feeling anything but brave.”

“Maybe you’ll never see yourself that way. But I do. Esme does. And so do your kids.”

He gives a small smile. It’s a blessing and a curse; to have people love you and trust you that much.  

“Did they get the kids?” Ovi asks. “Are they okay?”

“They will be. They’ve been put through hell. It’s going to take a long time for them to get better.”

“Inside and outside,” Ovi concludes, and Tyler nods.  “We both know how that feels.”

“We do,” Tyler agrees. “And I’m not going to lie to you, mate. I’ve got a long way to go.  I’m fucked up. My brain’s a mess.  And I’m worried it’s never going to straighten itself out. What if it never gets better? What if one day I’m in that really dark place again and this time I don’t want to get out of it.  If I’ve just had enough and I want it all to be over? What then?”

“Then you look at your wife and your kids and you think about how much you have to live for.  That you have people that love you and need you. That should be enough. To keep you going.”

“I hope so,” he sighs. “I really hope so.”

“Remember that quote I told you? In Dhaka? About the river?”

“That you don’t drown by falling into the river but by staying submerged in it. Yeah, I remember.”

“This is the river now. What’s going on inside your head. And only you can decide it you want it to let it pull you under or if you want to fight out and get out. No one else can make that choice for you. Even if we want to.”

Tyler nods slowly, considering the kid’s words.

“You know,” Ovi says, sighing heavily. “You’re not my father. But you are my dad.”

Tears sting his eyes; emotion chokes at him. There are no words to adequately express what he’s feeling at this exact moment; as those honest and heartfelt words sink it. So instead he wraps his arm around Ovi’s shoulder and draws him tight to his side.

“It’s been quite the journey,” the kids says. “Not always an easy one, but…”

“Definitely not for the weak,” Tyler smirks.

“What do you think will happen now? Where do you think we’ll end up? How will we end up?”

“I don't know,” Tyler admits. “But I guess all we can do is just take it one step at a time.”

[lunarapocolypse]

Shigaraki Week: Day 2

Candle/Moon/Iridescent?

@shigarakiweek

It’s dark, but not dark enough not to see anything. Candles of your own fire are lit across the room, casting shadows and leaving just enough light to see where everything is. It’s rather beautiful, making the room have a silvery glow. You’d rather it be there than not. It’s an odd thought, since you’ve never taken well to the light. No, you prefer the dark by a milestone.

But somehow, he makes you think this is better. 

Your eyes trail to the sleeping beauty resting at your side, pale hair spread across his pillow like a halo. Tomura is oddly peaceful when he sleeps. So peaceful that you might think him dead if it weren’t for soft breaths against the crook of your neck. You shift towards him, wanting to be a degree closer to the man you care so dearly about. You let out a chuckle as you remember the mornings his hair would get stuck in your staples, it was such a struggle to pull it out. But you don’t care right now, so you rest your chin atop the fluffy locks.  It’s strange, you think. It’s so strange how you ended up this way. You used to hate each other.

But was that really hate? Or just misunderstanding? You aren’t quite sure. Tomura claims to hate everything, but you know better than that. You and the rest of your makeshift...family? Would it be right to call them that? Family was something  you don’t deserve, something too personal to call their odd group. And yet...it strangely felt like one should. Even so, you can't allow yourself these feelings. You decide to drop the topic, save it for another night. It’s too much for you right now, so you focus on the sound of gentle breaths and a steady heartbeat. 

Tomura’s hair is the color of the moon, silvery with a slight bluish tint. It’s rather anticlimactic since he’s like the sun. Shining brightly enough to provide light for life to grow, yet if you were to get too close you’d be burned to a crisp. The sun has such a strong gravitational pull that it has a system built around it, similar to how Tomura drew everyone in. If Tomura was the sun, then you suppose you’re  Mercury, the closest planet revolving around him. Or maybe you’re Earth, the planet that was given life by his rays. Then again, you aren’t sure if you’re even alive. You died long ago, what remains is only a shell of what used to be. And yet this shell of yours,  this husk devoid of any meaning but vengeance, finds itself clutching into it’s lover, wanting to shield him at any costs. It’s odd, because you know the only one Tomura needs protection from is himself. Himself and the restless thoughts that tend to devour his mind. Thoughts often devour yours as well, but he helps with that. He always helps.

As you brush a strand of hair from flaky yet beautiful skin, you realize he’s like the moon as well. He shines brightly, but not enough to blind you. His light is much less harsh than that, but it’s enough to light up the darkness of the night, allowing you to see the stars and what’s around you. It doesn’t dispel the darkness, but it makes it much more comfortable. It guides you. The moon is much smaller than the sun yet it is often held at the same importance. And it revolves around the planet of life, just as Tomura revolves the league, caring for and depending on them. While the sun brings life, the moon controls the tide,  pulling waves like he pulls others in. You think of his ruby red eyes, that always seem to have a flame in them. That always captivate you. That always draw you in. That always stare at you, as if daring you to break eye contact but you can’t. You can’t look away from them, you’d drown in them if it weren’t for your own defiance. His eyes are like the sun yet his hair is like the moon, so maybe he’s both. It makes sense in an odd way. 

You never liked the sun, nor the moon. The sun is too bright and it hurts your eyes, which probably need glasses but you never got them. The moon is unconstant, it doesn’t rise every night. And it’s not the same shape every night either. You don’t like that. Tomura is a perfect mix of the two, maybe that’s why you love him. Can you really say you love him? Love is a word not meant for people like you, it’s too soft. You aren’t supposed to be soft, you’re past that point. You’re far too damaged, far too gone to feel anything like that. You don’t love him, you could never.

Perhaps that’s why you press a chaste kiss to moonlit strands.

While Tomura is the moon and the sun, you decide that you’re a candle, like the ones currently lighting your lover’s bedroom. Candles burn bright but only for a short while. Ultimately they destroy themselves, their own flame melting them until there’s nothing left. You aren’t sure how much time you have left, but you’re determined to burn as bright as you can while it’s still possible. It’s not like the light of the sun or the moon, but candles can light up the dark as well. Just like that, you decide that you’ll use that light to dismiss his dark thoughts, the ones that so often crawl into his mind and destroy him from the inside. The ones that have you hug him as he writhes in your arms, screaming and pounding against your chest. You’re too messed up to know what to say, but you offer support by actions rather than words. It’s all you know how to do.

You suppose you’ll use the fire from that candle to burn what you hate to the ground, that much you know. You’ll burn whatever tries to touch him as well, but you dismiss that thought as quickly as it comes. It’s too possessive. He isn’t yours, nothing was ever yours but pain and grief.

You look down, studying the calm expression displayed on his visage. You assumed he’d look ugly with that hand covering his face all the time, so you were surprised when he took it off for the first time. Sure, his skin was dry as the sahara, but it was unconventionally beautiful. It was tragically gorgeous, like ruins that had yet to be restored. Rather than loving him despite his flaws, you love him for them. Every single scar told a story, a story you were always eager to listen to. The mole near his mouth just added to his strange charm. His hair was soft and fluffy, despite being wild and untamed. You love playing with it and letting your lips gently whisper sweet nothings into the pastel locks. His eyelashes looked iridescent in the moonlight, you loved the way they crowned his spider lily eyes. You blink, realizing that you let that word slip by you again. Love. You dismiss it, breathing in the smell of his conditioner. Right now, you just want to rest, not to think about how you might feel. Yet your eyes trail down to his pale hands, curled into fists as he sleeps.

Tomura had trained himself to ball his hands as he slept, as to not decay anything by accident. However, right now he was in an unfamiliar environment, one that it might take a while to get used to. So despite his pride, he wore gloves just in case. You often wonder how long it took to have so much control over his quirk. It makes you jealous, how he has far more control than you ever could. You were always weak. But he disagreed with that.

He respected your wishes to follow your own agenda, he didn’t care he didn’t even know your real name, he let you recruit a hero of all people, he trusted you despite it all. He said you were one of his strongest, he made you his right hand man even though he knew you were independent from him. He was special, special enough to catch your eye. You admit, you didn’t like him when you first met. He was childish, immature, reckless. But something changed, and he drew you in more and more. You can’t remember the time when you were so devoted to Stain’s ideology, it seems like centuries ago. You gradually gravitated towards him, until you got to where you are now. Holding him closely under the moonlit sky, nuzzling the side of his head as a thousand thoughts run through your mind. Thoughts that come to an end as you feel chapped lips press against the scars on your neck.

“Tomura.”

“Dabi.”

You don’t smile, you’re too twisted for that. Smiles are sweet and gentle, you aren’t that. Yet the corners of your lips curve up into something softer than your usual smirk, and your heart skips a beat when he does the same.

Perhaps  you’d allow yourself this much softness. Perhaps you’d allow yourself to love him.

And if you held each other closer for the rest of the night, no one but the moon and candles that beared witness would know.

[itslunaberrales]

⌠ benedetta gargari, 21, cisfemale, she/her ⌡

 welcome back to gallagher academy, luna berralés! according to their records, they’re a second year, specializing in advanced encryption, knife fighting skills, + linguistics, culture, & assimilation; and they did not go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (deep burgundy lipstick, vintage leather jacket, and a classic pair of doc martens ). when it’s the (virgo)’s birthday on 09/07/1998, they always request their spaghetti & meatballs from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kiy, 20, she/her, cst ⍀ 

@gallagherintro​

Here’s some general info about Luna, then some necessarily long details later :) ~ death mention (tw)

- GENERAL

FACE CLAIM: Benedetta Gargari

FULL NAME: Luna Milanie Berralés

DATE OF BIRTH: September 7th, 1998

AGE: 21

NATIONALITY: Italian

ETHNICITY: European, Latina

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5'9"

WEIGHT: 150 lbs

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown

EYE COLOR: Blue

LANGUAGES(S): Italian, Spanish, French, German, & English

IQ: 135

- BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Palermo, Italy 

FINANCIAL STATUS: Middle class

EDUCATION: Undergraduate 

DEGREE(S): Advanced Encryption, Knife Fighting Skills, and Linguistics, Culture, & Assimilation

FATHER: Miguel Berrales

MOTHER: Francesca Alina Tucci

SIBLING(S): Anthony Berrales

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None

CHILDREN: None

- DETAILS

Luna’s dad, Miguel from Spain served as a spy since he was 18. He took on several missions across Europe and was one of the top undercover spies in his class, considering his unique combat/martial art skills, weapons training, and encryption knowledge.

He met Francesca in Venice in the middle of a six month undercover mission. They fell hard in love, though she was definitely a distraction considering he had to remain undercover. After the mission was completed, he had no choice but to leave her and return to HQ. 

Fast-forward to about four years later, Miguel retires from being a spy super early to return to Venice. He gets decent benefits though..

He courts Fran and they marry within the next year; she becomes pregnant with twins AKA Luna and her fraternal twin brother Anthony. whoohoo!

Despite the fact that Luna and her brother being twins under the same household, their childhoods are fairly opposite. Luna’s interest in her father’s secretive past grows, and her brother’s interests grows into to things not-so spy-like, like art design and painting.

At about 8, Luna develops her love for tech and software development, and by 12 years old, it’s a hobby she like to do in her free time. :)

By 16 years old, Luna constantly spends her free time learning about and developing software, system updates, and encryption. She becomes so good at it that it even starts to take up more than her free time honestly. By now, it’s no longer a hobby. Luna continues to learn more about her dad’s past spy life, although her mom completely disapproves of any involvement or knowledge of the spy life. 

She doesn’t attend spy high school, because not only is she self-taught, but she has already learned so much from her dad as far as advanced encryption, hand-to-hand combat, and beginner knife skills. Luna feels like she’s a natural at learning this kind of stuff; especially encryption.

Luna only feels that it is right that she becomes a spy. Her father agrees and feels that she will excel, but her mother doesn’t want her daughter anywhere the dangers she fears is involved with being a spy. However with Luna being 19, she has no choice but to respect her wishes and supports her. Her brother Anthony also supports Luna’s endeavors. 

- OTHER FACTS

To simply describe her- hard boiled egg. 

MASSIVE BDE  & BI VIBES. 

She’s very reclusive at first, and is definitely not the type to open up to people. She comes off as a sarcastic asshole, which she totally is…but is actually really soft once you get to know her. 

She puts on this hard exterior, but deep down she’s actually very kind-hearted. She’s both realistic and logical, but still has a vulnerable side she would share with certain people.

SHE PREFERS TO BE CALLED A HACKER

Luna legit enjoys being alone, but she won’t push you away if you want to talk to her. 

Even though she’s extremely introverted, she’s also very expressive when she needs to be. 

Oddly enough, people have told her that she’s a very good listener. She’s easy to talk to and people seem to open up to her naturally. (She doesn’t know why though.)

She’s actually somewhat nearsighted, so she has two pairs of these really cute black, bold frame glasses. She doesn’t wear them all the time though.

Her favorite colors are black, burgundy, and navy blue.

Has a tiny tattoo on her left rib cage that says, “Live, Love, Learn” in Italian.

She actually went into a dark place for a while after her grandmother died of a heart attack a year ago. She was very close to her, and spent most of her childhood with her before she got serious about coding. That was THE loneliest she has ever felt, ever. She got into alcohol really bad to cope with losing her grandmother, and almost decided not to go to the Academy. Months later her family helped her come out of that dark place. 

SOFT, 80′s/90′s GRUNGE IS HER AESTHETIC 

Luna and Anthony are actually really close. They probably have the strongest sibling bond ever; I mean they are twins.~

She doesn’t have any friends (she coins Anthony as her best friend), but does have a dog back home who is her everything- he’s a Siberian husky named Benzi. :)

When she’s not with her family, her dog, or working on encryption, she enjoys riding her motorcycles, gaming, casually drinking, and vibing to music. 

Her theme song is “Sweater Weather” by The Neighborhood.

Honestly probably the most chill person you know- the “come over so we can drink, binge shows, talk about the world, and vibe to music” type of friend~

Holds her hometown in Palermo really close to her heart. 

She’s never actually been in a romantic relationship. Though she fantasizes about the idea of it and definitely craves some sort of affection, she’s lowkey scared of opening up and being deeply involved with someone..

for ....reasons ?

- PLS GIVE ME 

roommate ships

Friends , or a best friend

Love interests? crushes ?

[krreader]

BTS reacting to you having postpartum depression.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: postpartum depression (duh) genre: fluff ; angst

a/n: postpartum depression is actually something that a lot of women have and I feel like not a lot of people realize that. my mom, my aunts.. they all had it and it sucks, but as long as you have a good support system you’ll be okay. and I love you too sweetheart

ask box | masterlists | faq | twitter | ko-fi | follower celebration | REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

kim seokjin

You thought that you'd be filled with nothing but happiness once you held your daughter in your arms.

And true, the first few days were wonderful. You were happy, Jin was happy, your daughter was healthy.. everything was great.

But once you got back home, things changed. 

And now, you were filled with nothing but sadness, cried most of the day and every time you held your daughter, there was no happiness, but just that hollow feeling that you never thought you would have.

“I don't know what's wrong with me,” you admitted to Jin one night when you were cuddling in bed, “I don't.. feel anything. I see other mothers smile at their children with so much love and when I look at her I don't feel a single thing.”

Jin's hand was running up and down your arm, thinking for a moment before asking: “Did you ever hear about postpartum depression?”

“That depressions that mothers get?”

“Exactly. It sounds like that to me. Especially because you've been having a hard time sleeping lately and barely eat anything anymore. The symptoms would fit.”

“And.. what can I do about that?”

“To be honest I'm not an expert at these things, but.. I could ask around and see if anyone knows any good therapists.”

“Therapy?” you sat up and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Jagi, I love you more than anything in the world and if I could help you, I would have done it when I first realized something was wrong. But I feel like you need someone who knows what they're doing,” he pulled you back against him and kissed your forehead, “How about this, you and I go to the therapist together the first time. I'll be right by your side and if you feel comfortable, you can go there alone. I'll drive you there each time and wait right outside for you so you're never alone. Does that sound good?”

The thought of you getting better and being able to care for your daughter properly sounded ten times better.

“Okay..”

min yoongi

“What's this?” you picked up a business card lying on your bed, Yoongi already sitting under the covers, his fingers dancing over the keyboard of his laptop.

“The number of my old therapist.”

“Your therapist? Are you thinking about going again?”

He let a moment pass, before shoving the laptop away and looking directly into your eyes, “No, but I think you should go and see him.”

“Me? Why me?”

“(Y/N), you’ve been having daily anxiety attacks, don't sleep for more than two hours every night, haven't answered any calls or texts from your parents or friends and cry every time you pick up Jae because you're afraid you'll hurt him.”

“Okay? So?”

That was the issue. That was why Yoongi wanted you to see a therapist, because you didn't even realize it that you weren't okay.

“You're not alright. I thought I might be able to help you myself, but I think you really should talk to someone professional. And you know how much therapy helped me.”

“I don't need therapy,” you snorted as you laid down, “I'm perfectly fine.”

You turned off the lights, but he immediately switched them back on.

“No, you're not. I know you might think this is just a phase and it is, I'm sure it is, but I really need you to talk to that therapist. For my sake, for Jae's sake, but most importantly, for your own sake,” he slid closer towards you and brushed your hair back, “I can't stand seeing you like this. It hurts me, because I want to help but I can't. And you know how that feels, don't you? You remember how much it hurt you to see me so utterly broken but not being able to help yourself and how relieved you were when I got professional help?”

He had a point. You had been so exhausted when he was at his worst, you only assumed that if he was correct and you were having some form of depression, he'd be feeling the same way.

That's ultimately why you agreed to go to therapy.

And it was the best decision you could have made, because it helped massively.

jung hoseok

You hated yourself so much for thinking that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't had your daughter at all.

That if you had gotten an abortion or had used protection, your life would be better right now.

The more you thought about it, the more you hated yourself, but the thoughts just wouldn't stop coming.

To the point where you ended up crying so much one night that you had a panic attack.

You thought Hoseok would come home late, but he wanted to surprise you with dinner. What he found instead was his sobbing wife on the bathroom floor.

That was the night that he found out about your thoughts and feelings. And he didn't know what shocked him more, the fact that you were feeling all of it, or the fact that he hadn't noticed anything.

“I need help,” you finally admitted, your body lying limply against him.

“Then that's what we'll get you. Whatever you need.”

You were just glad that he was so supportive..

kim namjoon

Namjoon realized it as soon as the first symptoms started showing. He had read about this beforehand in one of the pregnancy books he had bought.

Postpartum depression.

Something that was more common than most people think. And you seemed to be a victim of it too.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin on your shoulder as you two watched your infant daughter sleep soundly.

“I'll fail her, Namjoon. I won't be able to be a good mother for her, I just know it.”

“Babe, she's only six weeks old and so far you've been doing a fantastic job at being her mother. You've been feeding her, you've been caring for her, you've been calming her down..”

“But.. I feel weird. Like I need to do more,” you sighed, reaching down into the crib to hold her hand.

“Trust me, (Y/N), you are doing enough and more. And our daughter is so incredibly lucky to have you as her mother. And I promise you, when she's older she will tell you exactly that. She will tell you that she loves you and that she is proud to be your daughter.”

A small smile spread on your face at the thought of that, “You think so?”

“One hundred percent. Because I can safely say that I love you and I am proud to be your husband.”

park jimin

Jimin wasn't even sure if he should say anything, but your behavior was so weird that he ultimately had no other choice.

“(Y/N)? Can we talk?” he sat down next to you on the couch and smiled when you nodded, “So uh.. I was just wondering.. have you been feeling.. weird lately?”

“Why?” you stuttered.

Did he notice it? Was it that obvious?

“Well, it's just.. I feel like ever since Shinwon was born, you're.. less happy,” he fumbled with his hands, clearly uncomfortable, but feeling like you and him needed to have this conversation.

And you really did. Because you needed help and you really wanted him to be the one to be able to talk to about your feelings.

Maybe now was a good time to start.

“It's called postpartum depression,” you explained, looking down to your hands in shame, “A few of my friends had it too, but I always thought that I wouldn't be one of those who get it. I thought I was stronger than that.”

“I don't think it has anything to do with strength, (Y/N),” your husband quickly interfered, “You are one of the strongest women I know. I just think that.. you might be putting a little too much pressure on yourself. And I know a lot about that.”

“I just feel like I can't ever love him like he deserves to be loved.”

“There is no limit on love. And everyone loves differently. You love me and care for me and have been doing so for years. You will love and take care of him too, I know it! You just need to stop thinking that you won't, because it's not true. You're a wonderful mother and you will continue to be one.. just.. believe in yourself a little more, Jagi. Like I do.”

Your mouth curled into a small smile and you leaned forward to press a small kiss against his lips.

“Thank you for saying that..”

“I mean it,” he said honestly.

kim taehyung

“Okay.. yes. I understand. Thank you, mom.”

You walked into the living room just when Taehyung ended the phone call.

“Your mother?”

“Uh, yeah,” he put the phone away and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “Listen, (Y/N), we should.. talk.”

“Oh my god, are you going to tell me you want a divorce now?!”

“What?! No! No, of course not!” you just had a baby three months ago, in no way would he ask for a divorce now, or anytime soon at that, “I need to talk to you about Areum.”

“What's with her?”

“See, that's the problem,” he pulled you towards him and then down onto the couch, “I know that you're probably very tired, but.. you barely do anything with her, (Y/N). I'm the one that feeds her, changes her diapers and comforts her. And.. I get the feeling that there's something going on that you're not telling me.”

You just blinked at him, knowing that he was right. You had been feeling this way for a while now but didn't want to admit it to yourself, much less to him.

“I've talked to my mother and asked her and she told me that she had the same thing when she had my sister. It's called postpartum depression. Women sometimes get that after the birth of a child.. it's.. different for everyone. Some just get really tired and spend all day in bed, others feel like they will fail their child, others are afraid that they will actually hurt their baby in some way. And I feel like you're experiencing all of these things at the same time.”

He just summed it up perfectly, but again, you didn't say anything.

Instead, you ended up crying because you felt like such a failure.

Everyone else could do it. Be a mom.

But you.. you failed at the most important thing.

Loving your child.

Tae pulled you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back and kissing your temple, “We'll work this out, sweetheart. We'll find a way to help you, okay? I promise you.”

jeon jeongguk

A baby was a lot of responsibility. You knew that when you decided to have it, even though both Jeongguk and you were still quite young and probably not fit to be parents.

The pregnancy itself was tiring, but now that the baby was here it was ten times worse.

You barely had the energy to get out of bed and every time your son started crying it sounded like screeching in your ear and all you wanted to do was turn around and sleep some more.

Obviously, that was then quite hard on Jeongguk, because he was always the one to get up and take care of the baby, which only made him ten times more tired since he didn't suddenly stop being an idol.

And when he passed out for the fourth time this week during dance practice, he finally decided to sit down with you and talk about this, because he couldn't keep doing this anymore.

“(Y/N), I know that this is hard for you, but we need to talk about this..”

“Talk about what?” you pretended like you didn't know what he meant and continued reading your book.

“That.. thing your experiencing. I talked to hyung about it and he told me there is something called  a postpartum depression. It's something that mothers often get after they have a baby.. and.. the symptoms.. (Y/N) they fit,” he carefully took the book out of your hand and replaced them with his hands instead, waiting for you to look at him before he continued, “Please talk to me..”

He wasn't angry with you, god no. He was just really worried and equally as tired.

“You deserve someone that's a better mother for our child than me. He does,” you whispered, your eyes already beginning to water, “I'm not good for either of you.”

“What are you talking about? You squeezed a huge ass baby out of your vagina, (Y/N), do you know how insane that is?” he tried to lighten the mood and it seemed to work, mostly because your son really was quite big, “I get it, though. I get that you're worried and have doubts. I do too. But do you remember what you told me when you said you were pregnant?”

“That we could do it as long as we're together.”

“Exactly,” he brushed his hand over your cheek, “And we are. We're in this together.”

“If you start singing High School Musical, I'll..-”

“We're all in this together..-”

He was a crackhead, but he really knew what to do and say to make you feel better.

This would take a while to get over and it would probably take even longer for your worries to disappear, but as long as you had him by your side you would be okay in the end.