#if you haven't gathered then the theme of these is 'gift'

[palestaticexchange]

THE MAN AT THE GATE

You sit on the railing overlooking the lorries.

There's the occasional beep from the malcontented men taking refuge from fluttering snow in their cabins. The lady driver fled this morning- driven away by some cop clearly *compensating* for something. This you know. You just about heard the bang of that cabin door echoing over the waterlock, as he screeched sideways onto the plaza.

One driver beeps again. Some long, drawn-out honk in place of a frustrated scream. You smile. As if one more noise would make a difference.

"Hey, Beret!" Drawls a nasally voice up and to your left.

When you turn your head you spot the young woman. She has her arms crossed on the railing, and smacks gum down at you with a smirk. Well *this* was interesting.

You bring a finger to your beret and tip it in her direction. "Evenin'," you give her your brightest flash of teeth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She must like your mock chivalry because her smirk becomes a smile. Between that and her pause in chewing you realise just how young she actually looks.

A damn shame then that she spends all day on the catwalk clinging to some brainless goliath like a fly on shit.

"Wanted ta talk to ya!" She replies, resuming her chewing.

"Oh? Where's the big man?"

The girl looks over her shoulder, still smacking away. "Pissin' over the side of some railing." When her head returns to you her expression takes on an element of cheek. "I teased him about the *effects of the cold* and Jean-Luc got *shy*."

You throw your head back and laugh.

Of course she did. Of course *he* did. The brick-shithouse was an eight-foot stack of walking contradictions. Despite his supposed 'superiority' a little little-dick joke from one of his *babes* was enough to send him off, tail between his legs. Of course.

Evrart wouldn't like it, but he didn't *have* to see everything. None of the scabs had noticed Measurehead's absence. You can also hear the drunk retching from behind the Whirling, new handler likely in-tow. Everything was under control.

"What's ya name?" Ah. The girl. *That* is why she's talking to you.

"Call me Mañana."

She rolls her eyes. "What's ya *real* name?"

You chuckle. "Who are we to decide what is and is not real, chica?"

She groans and pushes back off the railing, arching her back and shouting to the sky. "All you artsy types is the same!" Whatever she was *going* to say next is cut off by her new posture providing the perfect chute for that overworked piece of gum to slip into.

She draws breath with a pop and her eyes widen. Then she's keeling over the railing and pounding a fist against her diaphram, hacking until a little pink blob flies from her mouth surrounded by spittle. You follow it's trajectory downwards.

There's a glorious, *terrifying*, moment of excitement where you think it's gonna land right on the main scab's head. Then it hits the ground with no ceremony, noticed only by you.

Your eyes return to the girl. No chewing, no smirk, no heckling. Only white knuckles wrapped around the railing and tears in her eyes from the choking. She's distant. You wonder then how old she actually is, what happened that made her content with spending too long days, in too little clothing, in this dreadful cold, with that dreadful man.

Why does she cling to a racist, content with being viewed as an asset?

You do not pity her. She chose this lot in life. But... For a moment you *see* her. Then, she draws another stick of gum from her pocket and chews it quietly.

"Tomorrow." You call out to her.

"Huh?" Her gaze returns to you. She blinks and cocks her head, chewing slower now.

"It means *call me tomorrow*. It's from a song- If folks don't know that, I usually don't tell 'em," you smile. "Consider it my *gift* to you."

Her eyes widen slightly. At that moment there's a creak of metal and you see the heavily tattooed man return to the catwalk from the harbour.

"I HAVE RETURNED, BABE." His voice booms across the plaza and you watch with glee as the bulky scab's head whips to the catwalk in obvious rage at missing his golden opportunity. "BABE." He repeats.

You're surprised to find the girl's still looking at you, ignoring Measurehead for a moment. Unthinkable! She's smiling that *genuine* smile again as she turns. "Thanks, Tomorrow," she mouths at you in silence.

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

[breelandwalker]

Cold Moon - December 26, 2023

Bundle up, witches! It's time for the Cold Moon!

Cold Moon

The Cold Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of December, particularly appropriate this year as the full moon will occur late in the month, smack in the middle of the bleak midwinter.

This will be another month when the moon appears full for two nights in a row, so we'll have a full moon for Christmastime, with peak illumination on Dec 26th at 7:33pm EST. (A perfect aesthetic for those who are fans of the classic poem "A Visit From St Nicholas" aka "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Personally, I'm holding out hope that we'll have the snowy conditions to match, though it's a long shot.)

Like most full moon names, the Cold Moon takes its' moniker from an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups. There are a number of indigenous names that reference the wintry conditions when this moon occurs, including Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee), Winter Moon (Tunica-Biloxi), Hoar Frost Moon (Cree), and Long Night Moon (Mohican). More evocative names include Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree) and Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala), both of which refer to a phenomenon which occurs during extreme cold, when the sap inside a tree freezes and the expanding pressure causes portions of the bark or even entire limbs to "pop" with loud cracking sounds that can be heard for miles.

Other names for the December moon include Yule Moon (Norse origins), Oak Moon (Celtic origins), and Bitter Moon (Chinese origins).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The year is winding down. It's time to wrap up our projects and put aside what we haven't finished or no longer need. Rather than berating ourselves for the things we didn't finish or didn't accomplish, this is a time to give ourselves some grace and celebrate our successes and triumphs and the things we DID accomplish.

With only one page left on the calendar, many of us are already looking ahead to the new year, making plans and setting goals. This is a good time to brainstorm and engage in a bit of broad-view planning. Sketch out the things you'd like to see or do or try in the new year. Give voice to your dreams and start thinking of ways to make them happen.

The Cold Moon also falls soon after the winter solstice this year (Dec 21), which could be a boon for anyone looking to time their seasonal rituals in optimal fashion. A working could be begun on the solstice and built up to culminate on the night of the Cold Moon, just before the start of a new calendar year.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Have a small supper gathering with friends or family (holiday themed or not, it's up to you) to share joys and fellowship and enjoy good food and drink. Make wishes together for the new year. (Wish jars can be done individually or as an informal group ritual. Sharing wishes anonymously can be a fun party game.) A "White Elephant" gift exchange with inexpensive or homemade witchy goods for your circle could be fun too!

Make a wish jar for the new year on the winter solstice and put it out to charge under the Cold Moon. Cleanse any of your tools or crystals or accoutrements that you use moonlight for one more time this year.

This is the perfect time for divinations and goalsetting for the coming year. Pull out your favorite divination tools and your 2024 planner and sketch out the coming year. You can also try candle wax divination with holiday candles, if that's something that interests you.

Also, save those seasonal bayberry candles for future use! They're great for debt repayment and money-drawing spells.

If you need some ideas for a fun family activity, you can feed the birds for good luck, either with scattered birdseed or pinecone birdfeeders. String dried fruit slices, cinnamon sticks, pinecones, holly leaves and berries, and other seasonal faves to make garlands. Stick apples or oranges or clementines full of cloves in pretty patterns to make pomanders.

Use those fibre arts skills to create a special piece to keep your home warm and safe and well-supplied until spring. It doesn't have to be anything big - a simple weaving or single square will do. Crochet or cut out snowflakes for your home decor. If you want to get fancy, pick up a ball of cotton warp thread and look for old doily patterns - they look great as hoop weavings hung on the wall (or make a witch web in winter colors).

Make one more batch of moonwater to carry you through to the new year. If it happens to snow or freeze where you live, you can save clean snow or icicles for special (non-drinkable) elemental water, which can be a fun base for moonwater as well.

And speaking of elements, make sure to remember in all your seasonal decorating that fire safety is paramount. Be careful with your candles, warmers, light strings, plugs, extension cords, and cables. DO NOT "daisy chain" your extension cords or power strips. Never leave candles or wax warmers or simmer pots unattended, and turn off your holiday lights before bedtime. Safety first, witches!

Thanks for joining me for this exploration of full moon magic. See you next year!

Happy Cold Moon, witches! 🌕🧊

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Moon Rise Calculator - The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Cold Moon: Full Moon in December 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Full Moon December 2023: Illuminating the Cold Moon's Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

How Do Trees Survive The Winter?, National Forest Foundation.

How to Make Pomander Balls, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Fun Kid's Activity: Winter Pinecone Bird Feeder, Audubon Southwest.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[bedoballoons]

Hii! My b-day was on 8 of oct but I had to celebrate it today (2 weeks later). I threw a party, and invited 9 people, yet nobody showed up. Not even my closest friends. So, I would like to request if possible a hc with yandere Venti, Xiao and Ganyu and reader threw a party yet nobody showed up. If u cant do the request dw, I perfectly understand. Have a nice day and ty for reading my request!

Awwe I'm so sorry to hear that, I can only imagine how heartbreaking that was. Usually I don't write requests right after I get them (I go from oldest to newest.), but I wanted to get this out for you while it was still your birthday.

I hope it makes the day a little better! Happy belated birthday as well!! 🎁🎂🎈🎉🎊❤️

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎉𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎉

{༻~Happy birthday~༺}

CW: Yandere themes, slightly angsty with fluff at the end!

P.s. I haven't written Ganyu before so I hope she's not to ooc!

(Includes: Venti, Xiao, and Ganyu!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Venti:

You sighed quietly, watching as droopy streamers started fall from their places and brightly coloured balloons deflated by the second, even the cake looked depressed. It was your birthday and no one even bothered to show up..."What a great day to have been born..."

"Oh ho ho, someone has such a frown! Perhaps I can aid you in turning it upside down!" You perked up slightly upon hearing Ventis familiar happy go lucky voice, maybe no one else had shown up...but he had and you couldn't be more thankful, "Venti! You made it...thank you!" He chuckled sweetly, pleased beyond belief that he could make the most beautiful person in the world smile, "Of course I made it! It's your birthday and I want it to be a very happy one! Speaking of which, it's not much because...ehe I'm not the best with mora but..."

Your cheeks blushed a pink tint as the bard held out a small gift for you,...the first one you'd open. "You really didn't have to you know..."

"Of course I did! What kind of person doesn't bring a gift to someone's birthday, especially when that someone is as amazing as you!"

You bit your bottom lip, feeling slightly flustered as you opened the box...lifting up the lid to reveal a quill pen and ink, along with what seemed to be a small handmade notebook. The feather of the pen was what caught you eye as it was a bright sky blue decorated with small jewels of your favourite colours, "It's goregous Venti..."

"I figured together we could write fun memories in it and then one day after its full, I can use it to write songs for us both about our favourite moments."

𑁍༄Xiao:

"Are you...alright?"

That question seemed to sting more than it normally did, not only because the answer was a painful one...but because it was being asked on a day that should have made you happy...one that should have been all about you, if only people had actually showed up. "I'm...as alright as I can be. At least your here, I think if you hadn't appeared, I truly would have had to of celebrated all alone."

"Normally...I don't show up for birthdays, I find them crowded and feel that you should celebrate ones birth everyday, but your birthday is a special one. Someone as wonderful as you... deserves to be celebrated. I...even got you you a gift...though it may not be anything you enjoy."

You smiled slightly, watching as Xiao sat down beside you...setting a messily wrapped gift in your lap, "Xiao...I am going to love whatever you may give me, because it's from you."

His heart raced in his chest and as you began to open his gift he silently prayed to the geo archon you'd like what he got you, he'd spent hours choosing it.

You gasped, shocked to bouquet of Qinxing wrapped in adepti sigils, each of them were beautiful and smelled of the mountain tops..you couldn't even begin to imagine how long it took him to gather them all, "Xiao I-"

"The sigils will make it so they never wilt, they will always remain how they look right now...a symbol..of how I feel for you. A love that will never cease."

𑁍༄Ganyu:

Ganyu pulled you close, resting her head on top of yours while she hummed a lullaby and rubbed your back, hoping she could at least ease the pain you were feeling. Not even in her wildest dreams could she imagine how anyone wouldn't want to attend your birthday, she thought of you as the most amazing person to ever exist...a star roaming amongst a sea of darkness and a day to celebrate you to her...was something incredibly special.

"I'm so sorry no one else made it...perhaps they all got caught up with work or other things and just couldn't get out of it?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Ganyu...I highly doubt everyone just somehow got busy on my birthday...thank you for trying though. I'm sad I didn't get to have alot of people, but having you here, it's enough to make my birthday perfect." Your words left her speechless, she loved you more than she could truly handle and hearing that she could still make your day perfect after all that had happened...

"I have a gift for you, I thought long and hard about it, made sure it was absolutely perfect for you." She moved away from you just long enough to retrieve the gift, it was wrapped in a pale blue paper and scented like flowers, you hadn't even opened it yet and you could see how much effort she'd put into it, "Awwe Ganyu this is to much, you didn't have to.."

"Oh but I did...please open it, I think you'll love it."

You smiled at her, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper and opening the box just enough to see what was inside. "Oh my gosh...it's a plushy and it's handmade, Ganyu did you-"

"In between shifts I learned the pattern for you and made sure it was sewn the absolute best I could. I've never made anything like it before and I was worried I wouldn't finish it in time...but I wanted you to have something that showed my determination and attention to what you like. I also figured it could help you sleep."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧Happy birthday~

[lxndonorris]

comforting reassurance - Fabio Quartararo

Y/N x Fabio Quartararo Theme: smutish, teasing, touching, (little angsty) Fabio invited you out on a ride and even though you're nervous, you're ready to go on this adventure. word count: 1900+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

Standing in Fabio's garage, you can feel the anticipation bubbling within you. The sleek lines of his Yamaha YZR-M1 gleam under the overhead lights, a marvel of engineering and power. The thought of your upcoming ride sends a thrill through you, though your nerves jitter just beneath the surface.

Your hands trace the contour of the bike's fuel tank, imagining the rush of the wind and the roar of the engine beneath you.

Suddenly, you feel a familiar warmth as Fabio hugs you from behind, his strong arms encircling your waist. You melt into him, savoring the comfort of his embrace. The scent of his cologne, a mix of citrus and wood, wraps around you like a second hug, soothing your nerves.

"Hey," he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. "Are you ready for our adventure?"

You lean back against him, tilting your head to catch his eye. "I'm a bit nervous," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never done anything like this before."

Fabio tightens his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple in a gentle kiss. 

"You'll be fine," he reassures you, his voice steady and calming. "I promise you'll enjoy it. Trust me."

There is something so reassuring about the confidence in his voice, the way he always seems to know exactly what to say to make you feel better. 

He releases you briefly, and you turn to face him, catching the glint of excitement in his light brown eyes. 

Right away, you find yourself captivated. 

He is dressed in a black leather suit that mirrors his racing gear, yet it is more casual, almost effortlessly stylish. The way the leather hugs his body, accentuating his athletic frame, makes your heart skip a beat. The suit highlights his broad shoulders, toned arms, and narrow waist; each movement he makes exudes confidence and allure. It's clear he knows the effect it has; his playful smirk revealing his awareness.

With a boyish grin, he reaches for a hanger on the wall and pulls down one of his black leather jackets. It is beautifully crafted; the leather soft and supple yet sturdy.

"Here," he says, holding it out to me. "I want you to have this."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Fabio, I can't take this. It's one of your racing jackets."

Fabio shrugs, his grin widening. 

"Consider it a gift. Besides, it looks better on you."

Blushing, you take the jacket and slip it on. It fits perfectly, hugging your frame like it was made for you. The weight of it is comforting, and you can't help but smile as you zip it up. 

Fabio steps back, admiring the sight with a satisfied nod.

As he moves around the garage, checking the bike and gathering the rest of your gear, you find yourself captivated by the way he carries himself again. There is a confidence in his stride, a quiet assurance that comes from years of knowing his skills on track. Even in this more relaxed attire, Fabio exudes a magnetic charm that draws your gaze.

"You look incredible," you blurt out, unable to contain your admiration.

He turns toward you with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do I know?"

You nod emphatically, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Seriously, Fabio. You look amazing in that."

He chucled softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Thank you," he replies sincerely, his voice low and velvety. "I'm glad you like it."

Like it? 

You are practically mesmerized by it. The way the leather jacket molds to his torso, the way his movements seem effortlessly graceful yet purposeful—it is a side of Fabio you haven't seen up close before, and it is simply captivating.

As he finishes up with the bike, Fabio turns to face you fully, his gaze warm and inviting. "Ready to hit the road?"

You nod eagerly, the anticipation building within you. "Absolutely."

You spend the next few minutes adjusting the helmet until it fits snugly. Fabio checks everything meticulously; his attention to detail makes you feel even more secure.

Finally, he climbs onto the bike and gestures for you to join him. Your heart pounds as you swing your leg over and settle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

The engine roars to life beneath you, and you feel a jolt of excitement mingling with your nerves.

"Ready?" Fabio calls over his shoulder.

You take a deep breath and nod, even though he can't see you. "Ready!"

With that, you are off. 

The bike surges forward, and you tighten your grip around Fabio. The world blurs around you as you speed down the winding roads, the scenery a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. The wind whips past you, cool and invigorating, and you find yourself laughing out loud at the sheer exhilaration of it all.

Fabio's expert handling of the bike is evident in every smooth turn and acceleration. He guides you effortlessly through the landscape, the powerful engine purring beneath you. Gradually, your nerves give way to pure joy. There is something magical about the freedom of the open road; the connection between you is amplified by the shared experience.

As you ride, your hands instinctively wander over Fabio's chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the leather suit. You can hear him muttering something—a chuckle, even—and you know he enjoys the sensation as much as you do.

Encouraged, your hands move lower to his waist, feeling the flex and movement of his body as he expertly maneuvers the bike. The vibrations of the engine resonate through his chest, adding to the thrill. 

Fabio then drives playfully, leaning into the curves with a confidence that makes the ride even more exhilarating. Subconsciously, your hands continue to explore, tracing the contours of his body, and you sense his enjoyment in the way his chest rumbles with laughter.

He speeds up again, and you hold on tighter, your hands clutching at his waist as the scenery whizzes past you. The rush of the wind and the feeling of being so close to Fabio combine to create an unforgettable experience. Each twist and turn brings a new surge of adrenaline, and you revel in the sensation of being utterly alive.

After a while, Fabio slows down and pulls off onto a scenic overlook. He kills the engine, and you both remove your helmets—the sudden silence almost startling. The view is breathtaking—a vast expanse of rolling hills and lush valleys stretching out beneath a clear blue sky.

Fabio turns to you, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "Did you enjoy yourself?" He asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

You smile, feeling warmth spread through you. "Yes, I did. It was incredible."

He grins, his gaze unwavering. "I am glad to hear that."

After a brief pause, he continues, his voice laced with amusement. "Did you realize where your hands were during the ride?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. Your mind flashes back to the ride, your hands instinctively stroking his chest, moving lower to his waist. You were so caught up in the thrill of the moment that you didn't fully realize how intimate my touch had been.

"I, um, I guess I got carried away," you stammer, looking down in embarrassment.

Fabio chickles softly, reaching out to tilt your chin up so you are looking into his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed," he says gently. "I enjoyed it. I loved feeling your touch and knowing you were having a good time."

His words send a rush of warmth through you, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I did have a good time. A great time, actually."

"Good," he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "Because I wanted today to be special for us."

"It definitely is," you assure him, your voice filled with sincerity. "Being here with you, experiencing this- it means more than I can say."

Fabio leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It is gentle yet filled with unspoken promises, a testament to the connection you share.

When he pulls back, you can see the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his feelings reflect in every line of his face.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek.

Wrapping your arms around him, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of leather and cologne. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Fabio's embrace, you know that this day will be etched in your memory forever.

Eventually, you get back on the bike and make your way back home. During the ride, you hold on tight once more, but this time your touch is deliberate. Your hands wander over his chest, savoring the feel of the firm muscles beneath the soft leather of his jacket. The connection between you is electric, each stroke sending a thrill through both of you.

Fabio's reaction is immediate and palpable. The way he moves in his seat, the subtle shifts of his body tell you he is enjoying himself immensely. You can sense the pleasure radiating from him—a mutual enjoyment that heightens the thrill of the ride.

With each mile, the bond between you grows stronger. The rhythmic vibrations of the engine, the rush of the wind, and the intimate contact all combine to create a heady sense of pure hedonism.

Fabio is humming, his entire being resonating with the joy of the ride and the closeness of your bodies.

The riad unfurls before you like a ribbon, the fading light casting ling shadows that dance along the pavement. Every curve and straightaway is a new adventure, and you can feel Fabio's excitement echoing yours.

He leans into the turns with an expert grace, the bike responding to his every command as if it were an extension of himself.

Your hands continue to explore, moving lower to his waist, feeling the powerful muscles flex with each movement.

Fabio's quiet chuckles and murmurs of pleasure reach your ears, and you know he is relishing the sensations as much as you are. The intimacy of the moment, the shared experience, is intoxicating.

As you near his home, the scenery becomes more familiar, but the excitement doesn't diminish. If anything, it grows more intense, the anticipation of what is to come mingling with the lingering thrill of the ride. 

When Fabio finally pulls into his garage and cuts the engine, the sudden silence is almost eerie.

You dismount, and you remove your helmet, shaking out your hair. Fabio turns to you, his eyes glowing with a mixture of exhilaration and something deeper. He steps closer, his hands finding yours, pulling you into a close embrace.

"How was that?" he asks, his voice low and velvety.

"Amazing," you reply, breathless from the ride and the intensity of your connection. "I loved every moment."

He smiles, his hands moving to cup your face gently. "You make everything better," he murmurs, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips.

You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The warmth of his body, the scent of leather and cologne, the lingering excitement from the ride- all combine to create a perfect moment.

[queerprayers]

do you have any tips for protestant christians who want to practice advent in a more ritualistic way?

Happy Advent, beloved! I love this question!

Hopefully this isn't too obvious but just in case: Advent wreaths were originally a Lutheran tradition and they're my favorite holiday ritual! I'm in the minority in that my church's Advent color is blue, but many people's are purple and pink. The Wikipedia page lists some different traditions—some people give a meaning to each candle. Generally people will have five and light one for each week of Advent and then one for Christmas. Advent is cut short this year (Advent 4 and Christmas Eve are the same day) but it's still never too late to start participating in a season! One day of mindful Advent is more precious than weeks of half-hearted Advent.

I have blue and gold candle holders, but many places sell Advent-specific candles and holders, or you can just get four or five candles (real or fake) from around the house and arrange them! I haven't gotten around to it yet this year but I like gathering evergreen branches from outside and arranging them in more of a proper wreath, but a fake wreath would work too, or just candles on a cloth or table.

I also saw this 20-minute Advent candle set, where you can light a candle each day and let it burn down while praying/meditating/writing. You could set a timer and do something similar with any type of candle. Candles are a staple of winter holidays for a reason—light and warmth, obviously, and there's something about having a natural source of those things existing in your house when so much of the rest of your life may be artificial. I thank God my house has heating, but I also seek out the ways this earth provides what we need, if we only know where to look.

Some form of counting down to Christmas is a main theme of Advent traditions, and I don't think this is a bad thing at all, although I do see my Advent wreath as more of a fulfillment than a countdown. I always encourage people to take at least a moment for just Advent. We could look at Lent as a countdown to Easter, but we might miss the journey. And after all, Holy Week and Easter is the culmination of our calendar, not Christmas. We are still in the beginning.

My family doesn't usually put up a Christmas tree until around the 23rd, and I don't listen to Christmas carols until Christmas Eve. I don't refuse to participate in secular/cultural Christmas events/traditions before then, but Christmas as religious practice is twelve days for us, starting the 25th. I have time to make room, to prepare. I'm listening to Advent music now, to ground myself in time. I don't say this because I think everyone should necessarily do this (by all means, find room for joy wherever you can), but because an Advent value that I find meaning in is patience. Christmas exists, joy exists, salvation exists—but what happens in the time before those things? What happens if we're not there yet, if we perhaps have to wait our whole lives? We do not know the future, but there are things we can see, and even more things we can trust in. How can we practice hoping for it all?

This year I'm reading Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (the last gift my grandfather gave me), and it's marking my days in a similar way candles do—connecting me with the world, setting aside time, bringing me back to why I exist the way that I do. There are countless devotional/topical books out there—as well as Watch for the Light, I would recommend Preparing for Christmas by Richard Rohr and Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation by Luci Shaw (which can double as a Lenten/Easter book as well). I'm also looking forward to reading in future years Celtic Advent by David Cole and WinterSong by Madeleine L'Engle & Luci Shaw.

If you don't usually attend worship services, Advent is a lovely time to start—it's the new year, after all! My city has a caroling night downtown, and you could look for similar events in your community. You could also start new worship traditions—my uncle hosts a Christmas carol singing circle every year, and his apartment is squished full of happy people, some Christian and some not, singing until the neighbors complain.

Speaking of the new year, that's what this is for many of us, and one way we can acknowledge that is by thinking about the past year and/or the year to come. What was last Advent like for you? Where are you now? Why are you seeking out more ritual this year? Are there future seasons in the church year that you want to further observe? What joy and grief and community do you see on the road ahead of you? What can you not even begin to imagine? Advent can be a beginning for all of it, if you let it. And Advent is the ultimate time to contemplate the past and the future—as we remember Jesus coming two thousand years ago, as we experience him every day, and as we look to a second coming that none of us understand but can occasionally stand to ponder.

There are the little things, too—writing Christmas cards is very ritualistic for me, as well as making gifts, and preparing for Christmas in a material way, especially if it's for others, can be a lovely ritual! Volunteering, preparing a home, creating, writing, taking a walk--anything, really, can be a ritual if we do it purposely. We don't always have to add something to our life—we can live something we already live in a new way.

And then there's the other kind of practice: emptying. We talk about this most when we encounter Lent, but I think there's a place for it here, too (and always). I don't mean abandon our responsibilities/hobbies/relationships, but most of us have too much. It is a blessing to have, but it can also be a blessing to let go. Many of us overwork ourselves during December, at work, at school, financially, socially, around the house. I've learned to look at busy-ness as a gift, but I also work to not fill up my life until there's no room for the season. There are people who fast during Advent, but there are other ways to make space in our lives to fill up with God, and Advent encourages us to spend time in that space. God is coming, a thief in the night, a late guest, an overlooked baby. Do you have room? Do you still have the attention span and energy? Will you even notice?

Christmas is many things to many people, and preparing for it is similarly diverse. I'm carrying a lot of grief with me this year, from both family and world tragedy. I know a lot of people who feel pressured to be happy during the holidays, and that breaks my heart—and it also makes me wonder how much having a ritualistic Advent since I was a kid has helped me avoid that. Happiness was never a value my family held—it was beautiful, but not inherently holy. Emotions come and go. Love exists infinitely, and patience and hope can be practiced and lived out regardless.

There are so many traditions, especially in the US, that leave people hungering for ritual and material practice—I've found a lot of physicality in Lutheranism, similar to my Catholic family, but I know there are those who have never really had that. When we seek ritual, it's often because there's something (or many things) in our practice either growing up or currently that we don't have and seek—whether that's the sensory experiences of incense and stained glass, the daily habits of rosary or novena, the liturgical practice of seasons and services, choral and hymn-singing, contemporary music, contemplation, academia, casualness, relatability, mystery, social justice, huge gatherings, tiny meetings, or any of the other Christian experiences that usually traditions don't or can't have all at once. When we seek ritual, we seek what we don't have, but often find what we already have as well. So many things are rituals that we take for granted because we've always had them or gotten used them. Seek new rituals, and seek what is already in your life that you can decide to do. Take your traditions, and find the traditions you didn't receive but hunger for, and make a life. You have time—Advent happens every year, and as far as we know and can hope, we will have many more Advents.

Ultimately, ritual is doing it all on purpose. It's finding rhythm. So much of our lives are accidental, and this can be beautiful and holy, but you have come seeking the things we invite. And yet even things that happen to us can become purposeful, as Mary teaches us: "Let it be with me according to your word." Whether she had a choice is sometimes discussed, but to me often the more relevant question is how she dealt with what came her way. Ritual is taking what we are given and doing it on purpose, and Advent gives us a long tradition, passed down through generations, of active waiting. We have no choice but to wait for the future, but today we will do it with our eyes open. Act as if the world is going to turn upside down—and you will notice it is, all the time.

In Watch for the Light, Henri Nouwen writes, "A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will manifest itself to us. Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The moment is empty. But patient people dare to stay where they are. Patient living means to live actively in the present and wait there. Waiting, then, is not passive. It involves nurturing the moment, as a mother nurtures the child that is growing in her."

Whatever rituals you invite in or find that you already have, however you nurture the moments that make up this season, I pray they make room in your heart for what God can bring. As Rilke tells us (in teaching how to approach art, but what else are the mysteries of this season?), "Everything is gestation and then bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of a feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity."

<3 Johanna

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Fated by the Stars (6)

Straykids ot8 x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Wounds/Injuries Traumatic Past, Violence, and Mentions of Non-consensual Molesting

Summary - After a couple weeks with the boys returning to their jobs, today was the first day where no one could stay home. Of course you know you can handle yourself, but that doesn't stop the pack from worrying about you. But you have the perfect idea on how you will spend the day.

Masterlist

It took me ages to finally get the boys out the door and to their respective jobs. They were all worried about how I would be by myself. I had to remind them that I had been doing better recently. I no longer had the recurring nightmares, no more panic attacks. I was doing so much better than they thought.

I needed them to trust me because I had wanted to surprise them when they come home and I needed the whole day to work on the surprise. Over the last couple weeks, I was slowly gathering ingredients and craft items.

Now that they were gone, I had as much time as I could. First I would start with finishing their new set of bracelets I would make them. Ever since the first time I had made them bracelets, I haven't seen them without the bracelet. Because of this I want to make different sets so they don't have to feel like they need to wear the same one everyday.

This time all the bracelets had my name on it, surrounded by beads that relate to an animal they act like. Like Minho had a bracelet with white bunny head beads that were between other kinds of white beads to make it cuter. Hyunjin had a tiger themed bracelet, Jeongin got a fox theme, Changbin got a bear theme, and Seungmin got a dog theme. Chan got a Lion theme, Felix got a panda theme, and Jisung got a Squirrel themed one.

Once they were all done, I put them onto paper that I had colored with the same color their original bracelets were. I brought them back out into the living room that was attached to the kitchen. Almost like one big room if this wall didn't cut in between the two. I placed the gifts down on the table, under each one was a cute picture I had painted of each of them. The pictures included the specific mate and me cuddling, or hugging, or even a kiss on the cheek.

I also placed a few candles and some rose petals on the table as well. Now that I had finished setting that up, I had to start the baking half!

I gathered all the necessary ingredients like flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, and of course, fresh, ripe strawberries. My favorite fruit. while the oven preheated, I began whisking the eggs and sugar together until they formed a fluffy and pale mixture. This step was crucial to achieving the airy texture of the cake. At least that was what the recipe told me. I wish I could have practiced baking this but its pretty hard to hide anything from the boys when one or another is here.

Next, I began to sift the flour and baking powder into the egg mixture, gently folding them together to create a smooth batter. I couldn't help but smile as the kitchen filled with the comforting scent of the vanilla. This must be what the boys smell when they are around me, at least they tell me I smell of vanilla. The batter, now a soft pink color was ready for the oven.

I poured the batter into round cake pans, ensuring an even distribution. Then I put the pans into the preheated oven, then sat back and watched eagerly as the cakes rose and turned a beautiful golden brown tone.

While the cakes baked, I turned my attention to making the frosting. I carefully washed and sliced the strawberries, creating a mound of ruby-red sweetness. These would be the filling for the cake, adding a burst of freshness to each bite.

As the timer chimed, signaling the cakes were done, I carefully removed them from the oven. Unfortunately as I sat them down, the side of the pan caught my wrist and burned it pretty badly. I howled in pain but still carefully sat the pan down. The kitchen was now filled with the irresistible scent of freshly baked sponge. I let the cakes cool, patiently waiting for them to reach the perfect temperature.

While I waited, I tried to wash my burn. Looking into the mini emergency kit, I found some burn cream and wrapping. Easily applying it to my wound before wrapping it up. The wrapping didn't look the best but it did the job for now.

Once cooled, I began to assemble the cake. Spreading a layer of whipped cream on top of one spongey cake and arranged a generous amount of sliced strawberries. Placing the second sponge cake on top of the last. Marveling at my creation, it was a masterpiece of light and airy layers, adorned with the vibrant red strawberries.

Looking at the time, I saw that I had about 10 minutes until the boys would all be home. I quickly blocked the entrance to the living room and kitchen area. I fixed myself up, wiping off some of the flour on my skin and clothes. Minutes passed quickly and I could hear the boys driving up to the house together. The sound of them exiting the car and running up to the house made me smile. They still were worried about how I was after their stressful days at work. I stared down the front door from the entrance I was blocking.

The door burst open with Chan leading the boys inside, when they noticed me they quickly ran over. "How are you babygirl?" They gave me a hug together but when one of them knocked my wrist, they earned a gasp in return.

Suddenly they all pulled back to look down at me worriedly, chan being the one to notice my wrist. He lightly grabbed my arm to check over my wound. "What happened sweetheart?" I smiled and pulled my arm back. "Don't worry about it, just follow me please."

The boys stared back confused as I walked into the kitchen area. Still they followed without questioning. But soon their faces were filled with astonishment. I smiled proudly as they saw the candles lit, surrounded by rose petals. In the middle of table sat the pretty strawberry cake I had made, in front of it was the line of gifts for everyone.

"I made you guys a cake, but I didn't know what fruits you like so I decided to do my favorite fruit. So Its strawberry. I also thought you guys needed some new bracelets so you don't have to always wear the same one." They all came closer, Minho placing his hand on my cheek. "Sweetheart, never let yourself think we won't love what you give us for eternity. I'm happy to wear this bracelet every second of everyday. Now I will just have to wear this new bracelet with my older one as well." I smiled. "Okay alpha, the color of the paper matches your last bracelet! Come get them!" I watched das Minho picked his up first, seeing the painting of us under it he smiled. "This is so cute baby." When he opened the package to find the new bracelet, he smile wider and put it on the same wrist where his other one sat.

Slowly each pack mate had their new bracelet on and went to hide their painting away in their rooms. Chan was the first to return. "So did you burn your wrist making this cake?" He asked while feeding me a bite. I nodded. "Next time, can you let one of us help you? I know you want your personal freedom, and I'm glad to give you that. But maybe let us teach you how to safely bake, then I won't need to worry about your safety as much." I nodded.

"Okay I would love to bake with any of my pack mates!" Soon everyone else had come back downstairs where a slice of cake waited for them. Chan was still feeding me my slice and eating his own slice in between my bites. I watched everyone begin to eat their slices. I gave most of my attention to Felix, he was the owner of a quite profound bakery after all. I watched as his face slowly turned up into a huge smile. Seeing this I felt a sigh of relief escape me, but seconds later I was in his arms as he swung me around. "We have a little prodigy baker right here!" He placed a big kiss on my cheek while I giggled in his arms.

"So it was as good as I hoped!" Felix nodded and sat me back down in chan's lap. "It was near perfect babygirl, I'll have to teach you some more delicious recipes." "Okay!"

Soon we all returned to eating our slices of cake again, until that happy silence was broken by Minho. "So, sweetheart." I looked towards him wondering what he would say next. "In about a weeks time, we are having a big party to celebrate all of our companies coming together as a joint brand. We would love to have you join us as our mate and our pretty omega. That way the whole world will know you are ours." Just the thought of them claiming me in any way big or small made me blush. "awe you made our 'mega shy" I hid my face in chan's chest, trying to hide my now growing blush. I felt chan begin to rub my back soothingly. "Does our little 'mega love to think about being claimed by her pack?" I slowly nodded but kept my face in his chest. After I responded to his question, I heard growls and purrs around the room. However there was no anger or upset in the growls, it was like the growls were more out of lust.

This made me whine against chan, my system easily switching to a lusty mindset. My omega wanting nothing more than to do what my pack wanted, to make them pleased with me. My body began to easy up, all stiffness dripping from me. I could feel myself falling into the lusty mindset of my omega. I dragged my hands up and down Chans chest, trying to earn more praise for my omega. He slowly grabbed my hands with one of his as he used the other to lift my face slowly. "Not yet my pretty little omega, we will get to that another day, we have it perfectly planned out for you."

Thanks to his light use of the alpha tone, I was able to bring my conscious back up to the front. Pushing aside the omega mindset that so desperately wanted her pack to claim her. I nodded as an answer to chan.

For the rest of the day, we spent it cuddling and watching movies. If only I knew the future, if only I could see what was coming. How unfortunate it is that good and happy can only ;last so long before fate hits you with some sort of pain or sadness. But this is life, I just hope we can survive the evil coming for me.

Masterlist

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

14. A is looking for a last minute gift and enlists the shop owner, B, for help, but quickly ends up getting distracted by them. For sashnetra please? ❤️

Here's the Sashnetra version of this prompt for this set of drabbles. Also, the last of the Christmas-themed prompts too! I decided to throw in a little bit of witchy-ness at the end, to mix it up a little. I'm personally not Pagan, so if there's anything I got incorrect on Yule, please let me know!

Sasha didn't expect her store to be so busy the day before Christmas. Usually, she would see a few people coming in for last-minute gift ideas or people who needed gift wrapping. But this year, it was a constant stream of people.

Nearing the end of the day, fewer people were coming in until the store was quiet. Sasha took the time to start organizing the shop again and get ready for closing.

As she hung up her overstock of jewelry, she let her mind wander to her plans for Christmas Day. In years past, it wasn't a day that she would bother opening her store since nobody ever bothered to come in.

"Excuse me? Do you work here?" a female voice said behind her. She turned to see a woman a few years younger than herself with long bright red hair and intense brown eyes.

"Yes, I own this store. How can I help you?" Sasha asked in her infamous customer service voice that took her years to perfect.

The woman took a deep breath, "I just got invited to my mom's family's Christmas and I haven't spoken to them in years. I need to get presents for all of them and this store is the only place open right now." the woman rambled out, slight panic in her eyes. "Sorry, that was probably more than what you needed."

Sasha shook her head to reassure the woman, "No, it's perfectly fine. I can help you find some good gifts in here." she smiled as she led her throughout the store.

The two spent the rest of the evening finding several last-minute gifts. After everyone on the list that the woman brought had gifts on the counter and Sasha checked her out, it was time to close. But part of her didn't want to tell this woman goodnight yet.

"Would you like those gift-wrapped? It'll save you some time," she asked.

"Oh, sure." the woman said, looking at her bags. "How much is it?"

"It's a free service." Sasha lied. She didn't mind losing out on a little money on some paper and ribbons right now.

She took out some gift tags from a drawer, "Who are these gifts from?" she asked.

"It's Anetra." she smiled slightly as she watched Sasha carefully wrap all of the gifts.

Once Sasha tied the ribbon on the last box, she felt a little bit of sadness realizing that she probably wouldn't see Anetra again. Something about Anetra felt familiar to her, she just couldn't tell how.

"Have a good night and happy holidays," Sasha said as Anetra gathered her bags again.

"You too, and Happy Yule." Anetra smiled as she started to walk out of the store.

"Wait a moment," Sasha said, feeling surprised that Anetra somehow knew that Sasha preferred the Pagan traditions. "How did you know I celebrate Yule?" she asked.

"I saw the altar behind the counter," Anetra explained. "It looks really nice, by the way." She pointed past Sasha's shoulder to the small table filled with various plants and candles she'd had up for the past few days.

"Oh, well thank you." She smiled in relief. It felt nice that someone like her came across her path. "Most people think it's a display." she joked. "Good luck tomorrow, I hope it goes well for you and your family."

"Thank you, I'm probably going to need it," Anetra said before leaving through the glass door, and Sasha locked it behind her.

Sasha hoped that she would see Anetra visit the store many times in the new year.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Movie Theater Adventures

Summary: Peter 1, 2, and 3 go to see a movie together and chaos ensues 😁

(Have a great week guys ❤️ hope you're all having a great day ❤️)

"You guys seriously did not have to do this."

Three turned toward the backseat. "For the millionth time Pete, we wanted to."

"You've been under a lot of stress lately kiddo and we know what that's like." Two smiled at him through the rearview mirror. "Sometimes you just need a movie break with friends."

"I cannot wait to see this movie." Three buzzed. "It looks so good!"

"Which one are we seeing?" One asked.

"You'll see when we get there." Two winked at him.

One leaned back in the seat. The older two had surprised the youngest after a long day at work. He had come back from the pizza shop to find them both in the living room. Doctor Octavius and Peter 2 had final been able to create a way for them to travel through dimensions a few months ago and it was taking some adjusting to randomly seeing another version of you in the living room.

It was even stranger when one of them announces they're kidnapping you for the evening. The older two had ushered One to his closet, telling him to put on his comfiest outfit and shoes for a movie day. However, they wouldn't tell him what movie they were seeing because they wanted it to be a surprise.

One fiddled with the sleeve of his science themed sweatshirt. "Could you give me a hint?"

Three ruffled his hair. "It's a movie you'll really love."

Once they pulled into the parking lot, One leaned closer. "Can you tell me now?"

"Have patience little Pete." Two opened the door. "Come on."

The youngest Peter curiously followed the older two toward the theater. He glanced at the posters on the outside in hopes of picking up on one that would give him a clue to the movie, but none of them really stood out to him.

Instead, he had to wait until Two talked to the lady at the kitchen counter. "Three tickets to see A New Hope please."

One's eyes widened. "What?"

"They're running a special this week." Peter 3 nudged his brother. "All of the older Star Wars movies are being shown in theaters for their anniversary."

"So we can actually see A New Hope in theaters? Like actually on the big screen?"

"Yehep. Thought this would be a gohood weheekend idea," Peter Two replied.

"Yes!" Peter 1 reached into his pocket for his wallet. "I'm so looking---."

Peter 2 stepped in front of the youngest and gave the lady his card. "Just put all three of them on my card please."

"Yes sir." The lady took the card.

"Here, I'll pay you back for---."

The oldest cut off the youngest. "No need."

"What?"

"It's my treat One, don't worry about it."

Peter 1's jaw dropped. "I can't let you do that!"

While the two fought over the tickets, the lady behind the counter slid all three tickets over with Two's card. "And that's two adults and one---."

Before the lady could finish her statement, Two gathered what she handed him. "Thank you."

Three wrapped an arm around the youngest's shoulders before steering him inside. "Come on Uno."

"W-wait! You can't just---!"

"Already have One." Peter 2 gave him another hair ruffle.

Peter 3 directed the group toward the concession stand. "Nothing you can do now. We said we'd kidnap you for a movie day so it's our treat."

"But I'm an adult!" Peter 1 pulled away. "Not a child!"

"Adults can still have free passes Peter," Two soothed. "Think of it as a gift for working so hard."

One crossed his arms. "Like getting good grades on my report card."

Peter 3 shrugged. "Eh, kind of."

The youngest blushed and turtled into his shoulders.

Two nudged him. "Hey, just say thank you and enjoy it, okay?"

Peter 1 wanted to continue arguing, but he was already being pulled into line at the concession stand. The blush on his face darkened as they made their way to the front.

"You haven't had dinner yet Pete. Do you want something to eat?" Three asked.

One shook his head.

"You sure? They've got pizza or chicken."

One shook his head again. "Just popcorn please? I can share with someone."

Peter 3 pulled the youngest close and pinched his cheek. "You're a growing boy. You need your own food."

One whined. "Noho!"

"Excuse me." A worker behind the concession counter asked. "Could I see your tickets really quickly?"

"Um sure?" Two handed over the tickets. "Is there a problem?"

The worker looked over the tickets. "Nope, no problem here. You actually have a discount."

"Really?"

"Yeah." The employee pointed to the board behind him. "You get half off one of the kid's meals."

Two cocked his head. "Kid's meals?"

"Because you have a child's ticket." The three Peters' eyes widened as the worker motioned to Peter 1. "All kids 14 and under get in for free."

One groaned. "She thought I was 14?"

The worker chuckled. "Ihi'm guessing you're nohot?"

"No! I'm literally 17!"

The worker bit back a laugh while his other coworker elbowed him. "Weren't you the one who got asked if he was 12 his first week on the job?"

"Yehep, so Ihi knohow you're pahain duhude."

The youngest's face was pure red. This was turning out to be a pretty embarrassing evening.

Peter 2 gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Enjoy it while you can."

One looked up at him.

"I wish people still mistook me for twenty."

That put a small smile on Peter 1's face.

The worker handed back the tickets. "I'm sorry kid. Look, it was an honest mistake. Don't take it personally."

The other worker behind the counter scooped some popcorn into a bucket. "Take your ticket and discounted meal and enjoy your movie."

Three nudged the youngest. "They've got a point Pete. Go ahead and pick a meal."

One fiddled with his sleeves. "Chicken strips please?"

"You got it. One chicken strip meal, two popcorns, and one drink coming right up."

Three handed over his card this time. "This is my half of the payment."

"Come on dude, let me atleast pay for my meal."

"Oh please," Three teased. "A $3 chicken meal is not about to make me go broke."

"Then let me pay part of the rest---."

"No no no, I don't want to hear it. You lost this argument with Two and now you're losing it with me."

The youngest groaned.

"Sorry about the tickets One, I didn't even notice she rang them up that way," Two apologized.

"It's not your fault. Like he said, honest mistake."

Peter 3 smirked. "You sure she thought you were 14. You look more like you could pass for ten."

One jabbed his elbow into his older counterpart's side.

"Ahalright, knock ihit off." Two grabbed the food as it was handed over.

"Enjoy your movie guys." The worker waved them on. "Have a great night."

"You tohoo." One waved at them both as they passed.

Once out of the line, Peter 2 led the way down the hall to the theater.

It was packed!

"Guess we should have gotten here earlier." Two scanned the rows. "I don't see a spot that has three seats together."

Three motioned to the other two over. "I think I found something."

"That's only two Three," Peter One pointed out.

"How about you two take these seats?" The eldest offered. "I think I saw another seat a few rows up---."

"No!" Both younger Peters exclaimed.

"There's not enough seats altogether though."

"But we want to see this with you!" Peter 3 added.

"Well, any suggestions on how to make this work?"

The younger two thought for a second before a grin lit up Three's face. "One, come here for a second."

One stepped over, and was caught off guard when Three tugged him into his lap. "Ack! Hey!"

"See? We fit here, you fit there."

As Peter 2 sat down in the other seat, the blush from earlier flamed across One's cheeks. "Y-you can't hold me all night! I-I'm not a child!"

"According to your ticket you are."

One shoved his older counterpart. "Shut up."

"Don't worry, it won't be all night." Peter 3 readjusted so he was standing and One was in the seat. "We can switch."

"Wait! What are you---?"

Before the youngest could finish his statement, Peter 3 plopped himself in One's lap. He wrapped his arms around the youngest and snuggled as close as he could.

One had to laugh at the sight of the tallest Peter trying to fit into his lap. "Yohou dohon't fit!"

"Noho." Three poked One's stomach. "But Ihi'm comfyhy."

Two gently pushed Three's hand away, distracting Three long enough not to notice One's flinch. "Come on you twoho. Time toho settle down."

"Hey, I'm not doing anything! It's him!"

Peter 3 sat up and stretched his back. "You're too little anyway Uno."

Peter 1 poked his older counterpart. "I told you!"

"Hey, both of you." Peter 2 poked them both. "Knock it off before we get kicked out."

"Okahay, okay."

The younger two settled down and adjusted into place. Three took up most of the seat with One curled up on the side closest to Two. A few moments later, the opening commercials began to play.

Then the opening credits began to roll.

It was epic to hear the theme reverberate across the theater and see all of the characters become larger than life on the silver screen. Even though One had seen this movie more times than he could count, he still loved every moment. He wasn't to keen on the position next Peter 3 to begin with, but as the movie went on, he readjusted himself so he could cuddle closer.

At first, he thought Three hadn't noticed. But then a hair ruffle and a chuckle showed him otherwise. "I thought you weherent aha child."

"I can still enjoy cuddles and not be a child," One hissed back.

"That is literally the most adorable thing ever."

"I'm not adorable."

"Says who? Cause I say otherwise."

One blushed brightly. He started to scoot away but then an arm pulled him back. "Hey."

"Hey to you." Peter 3 wrapped the youngest in a firm hug. "That wasn't an invitation to leave. I want you to stay if you'd like."

"R-really?"

"Of course." Three rubbed circles into the youngest's back. "I haven't had a good cuddle in a while."

"Me to-ah!"

Peter 3's hand froze. The younger two quieted to make sure no one had been disturbed. When no one looked their way, the older Peter wiggled a singular finger into One's shoulder blade.

The youngest Peter let a quiet squeak and tried to squirm away. "Threhee!"

He wasn't getting away this time.

"No way."

"Whahat?"

The hand on One's back began to spider around. "You're ticklish."

Peter 1 turned his face into Three's chest. "Threhee, plehease."

"Please what?" Peter 3's hand spidered across One's side. "Please tickle you more?"

"Eep! Hehey!"

The moment was interrupted by a whisper from Peter 2. "What are you two doing?"

"Nothihing!"

"Two, he's ticklish!"

One tried to cover Peter 3's mouth. "Sh-shut uhup!"

"Awww." The oldest Peter pulled One's hand away. "Really?"

"Yehes! Atleast his back and sihides ahare."

"No way." Peter 2 spidered across One's side.

"Eep! You guhys are soho mehean."

"This is literally the most adorable thing ever." Three wiggled his finger across One's jaw line. "Ah gootchie goo."

The blush on the youngest's face darkened even more. "Ihits nohot adorablehel!"

Two's hand spidered up One's side. "Tickle tickle."

Immediately, Peter 1 grabbed his hand before he could reach his ribs. "Ihim goihing to ruhuin thehe movihie."

"Not for uhus."

The youngest pulled his face away from Peter 3. "Ihit's ehembarrahassihing."

Peter 2 used his other hand to poke One's back. "Hehey, you haven't told uhus to stop."

The youngest Peter's eyes widened. He hadn't even realized he hadn't told them to stop yet, and he had forgotten how much he loved tickles. They always made him feel happy and loved. It reminded him of being young again, when times were simple.

Suddenly, a jostle brought One back to the present. "Hey, do you want us to stop?"

Peter 1 turtled into his shoulders. "F-for nohow. I-I want to fihinish thehe movie."

Both older Peters pulled away. "Of course."

"But there's no guarantee we won't exploit this later."

The whack Two gave the back of Three's head made the lady in front of them shush the group.

Once she turned back around, all three Peters stifled their remaining giggles before turning back to the movie.

As they watched the rest of the movie, a warm content feeling washed over Peter 1. Two had been right, he really just needed a night with good friends to put him in a better mood. He hadn't been too keen on being mistaken for a kid, but it had turned out to be the best thing ever.

However, a full belly and a good hug mixed with the remnants of a busy week made Peter 1's eyes heavy with sleep. He struggled to hold his eyes open for as long as possible, but eventually the sleepy feeling pulled him into a deep sleep just the doors opened for Luke, Han, and Chewie to get their medals.

Meanwhile, Peter 2 and 3 zeroed in on the scene, ready for the big finale. As soon as the scene ended and the credits began to roll, the entire theater erupted into applause.

"That was perfect!" Three exclaimed.

"I know! I loved every moment!" Two turned to the youngest. "What did you thi---?"

Three's brows furrowed together. "What's wrong?"

The eldest Peter smiled. "Looks like we stayed out past someone's bedtime."

Peter 3 was so confused until he looked down. Then he absolutely melted at the sight. "Look at how little he looks!"

"Should we wake him up?"

"Are you kidding?" Three pulled the youngest out of Peter 2's reach while giving him the biggest pouty face he could. "He's to precious to wake up!"

Peter 2 felt his own heart melt a little. "I have a feeling this ihis going to become aha regular thihing with you."

"I never got to have brothers before." The tallest Peter brushed a few loose curls out of One's face. "Can you blame me for wanting to cuddle him?"

"No . . . But now I really want to cuddle him too."

"Hey!" Three tightened his hug. "I got him first!"

"You've had him all night though."

"Please?" Three gave him his best puppy dog eyes. "You still have to drive home."

"How about a trade off?" Two stood. "I carry him to the car, you can cuddle with him on the drive home."

"Mmfine!" Peter 3 handed the youngest to Two.

"Thahank yohou." As Peter 2 settled One in his arms, a soft smile came across his face. "I like how this is turning out to be."

"Like how?"

"Getting to do things like this." Two shuffled hi load so he could ruffle Three's hair. "Getting toho tahake care of you two."

The tallest pulled away from the affection. "Not the hair!"

Peter 2 grinned. "Come ohon, lehet's go home."

As they walked toward the exit, Peter 3 tapped the eldest's shoulder. "Hey Two?"

"Yeah Pete?"

"Since One is already asleep and it is pretty late . . . could we have a slumber party?"

"A slumber party huh?"

"Could we? Please? We'll be quiet all night and we'll be gone first thing in the morning."

The eldest Peter bit back a laugh. "That sounds like aha greheat idea."

Three's face lit up. "Really!"

"Yehes. Lehet's do it."

"Yes!" Peter Three raced toward the doors. "Let's go!"

Two playfully rolled his his eyes. He readjusted his hold on One before following Peter 3 out of the building. "Hope you had a great day Uno. This was perfect."

When One woke up, he had to agree.

[cilil]

⭐️Could you give some commentary for To Fan the Fire?

Gladly!

~

To preface this for those not familiar with this work, To Fan The Fire was written for last year's TRSB and tells the story of Yellik and Uzgîl, two Orc sisters who work in Mairon's household, as they navigate the end and aftermath of the First Age, build and rebuild their lives and try to hold on to their culture, traditions and identity in Valinor.

For these two lovely ladies as well as a lot of worldbuilding for Orcish culture in and outside of Angband, I have @celebbun to thank. Please check out the lovely art as well.

~

Now for some general commentary on this fic, I'd love to talk about Dar-Mosnat.

In-universe, Dar-Mosnat - Orcish for "winter midnight" - is a holiday in Orcish culture, think a sort of winter solstice celebration with the gifting and getting-together elements of Christmas and similar holidays thrown into the mix. As you can imagine, winters are particularly tough in the already-harsh climate of Melkor's domain, so the Orcs gather to celebrate their perseverance and community.

On a meta level, Dar-Mosnat serves as a central element of the story, a sort of anchor and theme. Several scenes take place during the Dar-Mosnat celebrations of different years and in different places to show how far the characters have come, celebrate their achievements and mourn their losses.

When I outlined and structured the story, I deliberately chose Dar-Mosnat as the emotional core, so that it would be something inherently and unabashedly Orcish, not overshadowed by Melkor's war efforts or Elven culture in Valinor. Yellik and Uzgîl's experiences of grief, loss and death in contrast to rebuilding, joyful reunions and love, are a reflection of the Orcish experience as a whole on a personal level, told through their journey.

The creation of Orcs by Melkor is regarded as one of, if not his worst crime and their existence is seen by most characters as wrong, evil or, if they're lucky, a great tragedy. But Orcs are strong and persistent even in the face of adversity, just like life has always persisted in this world. Life went on, and so did the Orcs, becoming their own people with their own culture.

This identity is often challenged and disregarded once Angband, which was the home of many Orcs and a cultural center, is destroyed, and in this particular verse living Orcs are taken to Valinor and dead Orcs are reembodied as Elves (at first) because even some of the Valar haven't fully understood their Orcish identity yet, out of well-meaning pity though it may be. But once again our Orcish heroines persist, keep their culture alive and create a new community in Valinor.

Through Dar-Mosnat, I want to show my readers that there's something beautiful even within the things we consider ugly, that there's something to hold dear and keep us going even in the darkest hours and that even if terrible things happen we can survive and endure and go on through the strength of our own convictions and who we are in our hearts.

Thank you for reading :)

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

thanks for all the posts so far abt the poll results! i'm excited to see more in the future as well...

i'm really interested in the results personally bc i took the poll largely to help pad out your data-- theon is not one of my preferred characters from the series (although, like most asoiaf characters, there are lots of things i find interesting abt him and his character arcs), and i rarely care abt shipping him with anyone particularly, but when i do it is NOT based on complex character motivations usually, nor fandom flanderization. and it is SO interesting to see what everyone has to say abt theon and the opinions they have abt various ships, and the things they have created with fanon... it is so far from what i think about it's like a different planet, and it's great to experience smthn new!

no rush, but one data point i was wondering about was, is there any particular correlations with the "Fundamental Themes" question and people's favorite ships?

thanks again for running the poll (AND collating the data)! <3

First of all, sorry for taking so long to answer, last days have been a little troublesome, I haven't got to spend too much time on the internet and also I made a very stupid mistake when I started gathering data to answer this and realised way too late.

And thank you so much for having participated in the poll regardless! There was a small amount of people who, like you, weren't super invested in Theon but wanted to contribute to the data size and it was so interesting to compare their opinions to those of hardcore Theon fans.

To be honest, I have always thought that ships can be somewhat representative of the opinions on the character and themes surrounding them that a person holds and your question was something I had already started working on a while ago. I once ran a similar survey for another fandom and there too were correlations between subsets of shippers and fandom tendencies/interpretations.

This time, when it came to the themes, it wasn't as visible but it was more present in some other responses (ex. level of love for House Stark, concept of Robb as a gift, identifying with one of the demographics listed, dany-sansa standom).

I will sort this by shipper's choices instead of Theme's chosen to make it less confusing. Throbb shippers were the abundance in this poll so they are always the ones who gave the most votes to every single option for themes.

Also, please take into account that not both questions were answered by the same amount of people. Only 94 of the responders had answered both questions. The following is based on only those 94 responses.

Throbb Shippers' Choices (43)

Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition was chosen by 6/43 Throbb shippers ≈ 13,9%

Nr 2. Family issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes was chosen by 12/43 Throbb shippers ≈ 27,9%

Nr 3. Cultural duality, rootlessness, identity issues was chosen by 19/43 Throbb shippers ≈ 44,1%

Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds was chosen by 6/43 Throbb shippers ≈ 13,9%

Thramsay Shippers' Choices (12)

Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition was chosen by 6/12 Thramsay shippers = 50%

Nr 2. Family issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes was chosen by 2/12 Thramsay shippers ≈ 16,6%

Nr 3. Cultural duality, rootlessness, identity issues was chosen by 2/12 Thramsay shippers ≈ 16,6%

Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds was chosen by 2/12 Thramsay shippers ≈ 16,6%

Theonsa Shippers' Choices (10)

Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition was chosen by 0/10 Theonsa shippers = 0%

Nr 2. Family issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes was chosen by 3/10 Theonsa shippers = 30%

Nr 3. Cultural duality, rootlessness, identity issues was chosen by 5/10 Theonsa shippers = 50%

Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds was chosen by 2/10 Theonsa shippers = 20%

Greysnow Shippers' Choices (10)

Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition was chosen by 2/10 Greysnow shippers = 20%

Nr 2. Family issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes was chosen by 0/10 Greysnow shippers = 0%

Nr 3. Cultural duality, rootlessness, identity issues was chosen by 6/10 Greysnow shippers = 60%

Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds was chosen by 2/10 Greysnow shippers = 20%

Theyne Shippers' Choices (19)

Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition was chosen by 2/19 Theyne shippers ≈ 10,5%

Nr 2. Family issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes was chosen by 2/19 Theyne shippers ≈ 10,5%

Nr 3. Cultural duality, rootlessness, identity issues was chosen by 9/19 Theyne shippers ≈ 47,3%

Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds was chosen by 6/19 Theyne shippers ≈ 31,5%

Personal observations and feelings:

I found it super interesting to see the majority of thramsay shippers (50%) pick Nr 1. Lack of agency, unwilling perpetual childhood, aimless ambition. Out of the subsets that voted for it they were in the lead (taking into account the proportions) and it makes a lot of sense to me, it wasn't a total surprise, but it was more than I expected. I thought Nr. 4, Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds would be just as, if not more, appealing to them but I fully understand why; these are all themes that are connected to the canon Theon-Ramsay dynamic. The forced feminisation (lack of agency), the stripping him of his title of Prince of Winterfell (perpetual childhood), the "Why he had ever been born" (aimless ambition). I also find it interesting to see how one of the two smaller subsets of Throbb shippers chose this. I don't usually go for Throbb and in all honestly I sometimes find it vexing due to very different interpretations and the connotations of those, but seeing how there is a subset who had this combination (and was also rather critical of Robb) is making me more open. This is good.

Nr 2, Family Issues, loyalty conflicts, inferiority complexes, was chosen overwhelmingly by Throbb shippers. This wasn't a case like the rest in which they were in the majority simply because the Theon corner is filled with them. This was an extreme situation and one that backed up some of my thoughts regarding this subset of fandom. Out of the 43 throbb shippers that answered both questions, ~28% chose this option. As you can see above, there weren't many other contestants (~10% of Theyne shippers, ~16% of Thramsay shippers, 30% of Theonsa shippers). I don't think I should draw conclusions about the Theonsa and Greysnow shippers since sadly I didn't get many to answer the survey, but I wonder if the reason the both Stark/Theon ships have rather big numbers (given their proportions) on this chart is the same reason none of the Greysnow shippers and only a small amount of the Theynes picked it. Stark preference, show influence and maybe a slightly more conservative interpretation of Ironborn culture? The show scenes between Theon & Robb came to mind, and so did the more positive-presented affection Theon had for the Starks. I checked and many of the throbb shippers and two of the theonsa people who had this combination on the survey, first met Theon through the show and had more favourable views about House Stark and Robb Stark. Of course, there is always an exception to the rule.

I grew up in an environment in which engaging with literature in a self-indulgent way, like shipping things that would be considered contradicting or reductive to the themes, was seen as unserious and masturbatory, which wouldn’t be a problem on itself but I also grew up catholic so you can imagine the guilt I feel by seeing myself as a theyne shipper who has always felt ashamed of being one but also got extremely defensive about it ever since the entire narrative was given to another character and then I also started seeing Theon/child shippers express disgust at it for being a Theon/child ship, so yeah, I feel weird about shipping Theon and Jeyne but also fuck off (/lh/hj). And I think that at least a smaller part of that also comes from seeing how it is a dynamic that is often presented as wholesome and I do not agree with that. Had I submitted my survey response, I think I would have chosen Nr. 3, my second one would be Nr. 4 and I think that would be probably due to the Jeyne Poole and her narrative purpose. So, I am really happy and somewhat comforted by the Theyne subset voting for Nr 4. Suffering, redemption vs irredeemability, accountability over past misdeeds, since she is almost the narrative embodiment of the actually horrible things he has done that are never condemned by those who see him as a villain (rape of Kyra, offering Palla to Ramsay, the Miller's boys). Theyne fanworks often portray the two of them in a very sweet-fluffly-cutesy-manner, (absolutely no hate to anyone who enjoys it as such) and while I do enjoy those too, the portrayal of them as something purely positive often made me wonder if there was maybe some thematic dissonance between me and some of the other more popular shippers. I know this is mostly my raised-by-pseudo-intellectuals/catholic guilt speaking but I will allow myself to feel stupidly paternalistically relieved at this discovery.

Also, In case you needed to see the percentages by theme, rather than ship, here are the charts:

Again sorry this took so long! Thank you so much for asking and also your enthusiasm and kind words. It was really great to see this on my inbox.

[soulbanished]

happy birthday!! i was wondering what kind of gifts would your f/os give to you/your inserts? - tokubf

OOOHHH i actually haven't thought a lot about this, surprisingly enough!

kireek has given marian rare items or weapons as gifts before, but a birthday gift is something he would have to put a lot of thought into. he'd have to particularly outdo himself, and when marian takes an interest in the history of casting techniques, kireek sets his sights on tracking down the ancient texts of the motav prophecy. he's of course a member of a criminal group, so he has no qualms with using illicit means to get whatever marian wants (they protest at first, but... you get used to it when you're dating the black hound himself. if it wasn't for his dog theming i would compare him to a cat who brings in things he just killed 😭)

alhanalem is usually preoccupied with gathering medicinal herbs or studying the intricacies of crystals and magic, so the act of setting aside his own time for someone else is a significant one. he spends days lovingly handcrafting a sort of scope or monocular for madelon to wear, tailored to their aesthetic sensibilities and use of magic - it has a small crystal embedded in the side so that it may act as a magic focus. most of madelon's other loved ones think it makes them look much older than they are (especially yuri and chelinka, madelon gets no shortage of teasing from the twins), but they wear the thing so much you'd swear their vision would go bad in that eye, only taking it off to sleep or bathe.

as for dedan and agnatha.... i haven't developed much in the way of their dynamic i'm afraid, and there's only so much i can work with, but i know the both of them need a damn day off or a vacation. they'd spend the day alone together, looking out over the meat fountains or plastic lakes, no one else to bother them... just forgetting about responsibilities for once.

[waspandr]

burdenedreverence asked:

'I'm aware, we haven't spoken much since my return. But I remember, fondly, my early years in the Gotei. To include you. Happy Birthday, Soi Fon. With Warm Regards, D.E. Hayden.' With the card is left a gifted wrapped boxed, with wrapping paper suspiciously that of a certain Urahara brand. In the box is a simple plush cat toy, with an oversized smile.

Soifon stared at the card for a long while, her eyes glowering, almost boring holes into the box so purposely decorated with that....that white and green theme. She hadn't seen the gift itself just yet but given the obvious sources.... She was hesitate to even peek.

After another minute passed she finally gathered herself up enough to pluck the tacky papers out, only to find a rather delightful surprise buried inside!

Perhaps she could learn give Hayden a bit more credit where it was do, since, aside from the smile, the cat plush was cute. It would make a fine addition to her ever growing collection.

[kayssweetdreams]

A Wonderous Christmas Ch 15

Meanwhile, Back in Timeville...

Walt gave a sadistic smile as he watched the entire town freeze over. All of Timeville seemed to have scurried for cover under the darkened winter. "Oh how I love the snow during the holidays!" He squealed. His family watched uncomfortably as he skipped like a kid in a candy store. "Walt dear? How long is this winter going to last?" Wilma asked. "Just until one of those pathetic Brunos comes out, and gets that book to stop it." Walt reminded.

"Yeah. And how exactly are we gonna know when they do that?" She asked, shivering in the snow. "When one of them finds a way to make the sun shine, or make the flower bloom. " Walt said, as if he was stating a fact. "Well. It better happen sooner or later. Or else I'm heading over to the Bahamas." Wilma said.

Walt rolled his eyes at her before he gazed back out at the frozen over town, he just needed to wait...

Meanwhile, Back with Team Flora in Wonderworld...

The 4 inhabitants searched for the Flora of Love around the combined stages. Cass checked a clock themed teacup rids while Bruce tapped around some rather technological snowflakes. "Maybe we're thinking about this to much. Maybe we're looking for a flower!" Cass said, trying to encourage the others. "Yes, but none of our stages are really flower centered..." Iben said.

The others knew Iben had a point. Bruce's trash covered temple didn't have many plants other than the vines and foilage, and the only flowers made from Iben's stage were those carved of Ice and Snow. Cass' stage had sweets popping around her world, and the closest thing that Attilio had to flora, was the roses he wanted to gift to Princess Merry.

Bruce gave a comforting pat on Iben's shoulder. "Chin up dearie. We'll find the Flora and stop the winter." He said. Iben smiled at her surrogate grandfather. When she was in the hospital getting ready to give birth to Lila, Phil had helped Bruce clean up the Timeville park. After that day, the old man was practically like family to her.

Cass and Attilio smiled at them. They too felt their moments of love. Cass when she realized her kitten was safe, and Attilio when he finally confessed and had gotten the hand of Princess Merry. A clattering sound got their attention, and to their surprise, a large top hat that sat on a kitten plush had fallen off of its head...and started talking in Balan's voice.

"Iben or Bruce? Attilio or Cass? Can you hear me young sir or Lass?" It asked. Attilio picked up the fallen top hat. "Balan! It's good to hear your voice! We're having a little trouble finding the Flora of Love." He said. "You are? Well that's no good. I wish I can be there, I really could. But don't fret! It's not over yet!" Balan said

"Do you think you can find some kind of info on what the Flora of Love is?" Iben asked. "Of course, just a moment please. Soon you'll be able to find that flower with ease." The maestro said before his voice was no longer heard. The group looked at each other while they waited "Well, Maybe we should keep looking? I mean, we haven't searched the entire world yet..." Attilio said. "We might as well, at least until Balan finds some more info about the flower." Bruce said.

The group nodded before they began their search once more.

Meanwhile, Back in the Theater...

The families and friends of the inhabitants and Wonder Stars all gathered in a large sitting area in the theater. A roaring fire kept them all warm from the darkened snow outside, but that didn't mean that spirits were high.

Nancy Gallard, Lin Lin Chang, and Elieen Brand all worriedly gazed outside, and back to the theater curtain, hoping to see their loved ones come out. Miguel Gallard stood up and comforted his mom "Hey Mama, it's gonna be alright. It'll be fine!" He said, hoping to get her to stop looking so worried.

"Hey, on the bright side! We have an endless amount of food!" Bianca Suresh pointed out as Catilin walked out with a tray of fully decorated Gingerbread cookies. "Erm...Maybe you should calm down a little Catilin, you've made a lot..." Alice said, watching as she sped back into the kitchen, and pipe nervously at a very large cake. "Nope, We gotta have food. At least while the ovens hot. And besides! Who doesn't love sweets!" She said, jitters in her voice.

Arwen walked in, trying to comfort his wife "If you're worried about Kaylo and the others, don't worry. This is Wonderworld, the place watched over by two ultra powerful maestros with reality bending powers. They're perfectly safe." He said, grasping the hand she was piping icing out of.

Catilin shook her head. "That's not the part I'm worried about." She said. Arwen and Alice raised an eyebrow at what she said, when she lead them over back to the entrance of the theater...

And to their horror, it was beginning to freeze over...

The Keller family belongs to @lovelyteng

Miguel, Nancy, Lin Lin, Elieen, and Bianca belong to @sundove88

[kleiner-ghost]

Today's polyam shipping (@polyamships) day theme is calendar.

I haven't written today yet, so here's a quick drabble about my favourite trio. They're trying to have a Christmas dinner.

TW: guns

The trio gathered on the roof of the UNATCO base. They hadn't really set a time, but JC had finished her debrief, and Alex saw her walk out, and Paul info-linked Jock, and now here they were.

The weather was as warm as it usually got in December. Jock had lost his leather jacket, and Alex was periodically tugging on the collar of his jumper. He would have taken the thing off, had it not stored the batteries for his remote hacking keyboard.

JC was the only one unbothered by the heat. Her nano augments were to thank for that.

"So, how do you wanna do this?" Jock asked, just as he finished setting up the picnic blanket.

"How should I know? I'm an orphan." JC replied.

She hadn't moved from spot where Jock had thrown down his jacket, which she was now using as a pillow.

"You bring that up a lot," Alex complained.

JC shrugged.

"Right, well I have spiced pudding, potatoes, and soy stuffing," Jock continued.

"And I have turkey,"

JC rose her pistol to the sky, and fired. Seconds later, a thin seagul - or perhaps a large white pigeon - landed on the picnic blanket.

Jock smirked, and Alex cringed, before noting:

"I don't think either of you know how Christmas works."

"Well, duuh." JC rolled over on the jacket so as to face the duo.

"You're the only Catholic here," Jock continued, "Should we pray to Jesus, or can we just eat?"

"Wait." JC jolted up, suddenly remebreing something, "Aren't there special trees named after Christmas?"

"Christmas trees are just regular pine trees."

"They only grow in the northmost parts of Canada. They're similar to those you have on the West Coast, but, fun fact, the leaf shape differs -"

"Yeah, yeah." JC cut Alex off.

"Back when your brother was still in the academy, we used to exchange gifts as well." Jock continued. "That's where that blue wobly figurine on my dashboard is from."

"My parents used to do that too." Alex said, with a small smile on the corner of his lips. It wasn't often he felt nostalgic when talking about his parents. "Did you stop when Paul graduated?" Noticing the look JC and Jock were giving him, he quickly returned the conversation on topic.

"No." Jock shook his head. "One year qe got each other an identical set of socks, and that was when realised this was stupid and we should stop."

"Oh yeah, the red ones with the little fish on them!" JC exclaimed. "Heh. Paul actually loves them. I think he bought an identical pair last year. Maybe we should pick up that tradition again..."

They sat in silence for a short while, thinking the idea over. There wasn't really anything any of them wanted or needed that they couldn't get themselves or ask for.

Alex gave Jock a 'some traditions are best lost' look, before asking:

"So, who wants a portion of cold potatoes?"

"Sure."

"I'll have some."

"Okay. Just move the dead bird somewhere else."

"Oi! I'm still having that!" JC protested.

Jock, who'd already gotten ready to throw the thing off the roof, gave JC a reprimanding look.

"What?" She asked. "My stomach is augmented."

[omkrgiftafeeling]

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