#me: i'm not going to cry on the anniversary of my brother's death even if i'm feeling a little tendie or if i AM it's gonna be while

[curiosity-killed]

Me: I just found out I have to cancel the trip I was really, really, really looking forward to and lowkey clinging to while having a kind of shitty year and stressful time at work and I am upset

My sister: wow you got so lucky on getting a future flight credit, when they cancelled my flight i was just SOL

My mom: so are you going to wait till 14 days before our family trip (that we still haven't actually planned) (that wasn't supposed to be a family trip) to try to renew it???

[hachibani]

i'd never seen a dog tear up

I don't think i ever wrote about it here but Bianca died on march 5th of 2021, she got diagnosed cancer in 2020 just before lockdown and major pandemic events and unfortunately every treatment I could get her in such times were not enough or too late and the moment her metastasis became unresponsive to pain medicine i decided to let her go

i know i didn't talk about her a lot here since twitter became my main site of activity for years but i remember when she had her accident back in 2016 i posted about her here too, i got a lot of support and commissions to pay for her treatment and thankfully i got support as well when i opened comms there to pay for her chemo and surgeries, and for that i will always be thankful. I don't know why but I kind of had thought if I ever post about Bianca again here in this little old blog it'd be about her beating her cancer, something happy

i really regret the fact i didn't post more about her when she was alive and once she died my depression got so bad i was either unavailable or tried to ignore the pain by focusing on personal work... to this day it still hurts to think of everything that i could or should have done even if there's no way i cannot go back in time

losing bianca after almost 13 years of being together and more than half of my life at the time with her was more traumatic than i'd like to admit, so i try to rationalize little things like not being able to replace her picture even after so long, the most i've done is sell her stroller and i still kind of regret that haha;; but neither of her brothers fit in and at some point it became too much of a reminder of her illness and last days it felt like i had to, but just that one

(even thinking she was part of my life for 1/2+ of it and that that fraction will become smaller as time passes feels so wrong it might make me cry again)

i didn't get to draw her as much as i wished either, i thought i could never capture her cuteness (i still struggle) but since i drew her again on her first death anniversary i thought "i could somewhat get her to look cute" and i try to draw her looking like this from then on https://twitter.com/hachibani/status/1500315555215126536

because of her i started drawing pets more often, my goal for this year was to draw her at least once a month but... i didn't draw her at all in february, i think i'd like to make up and draw her again this month if my free time allows it, i never thought i'd get to complete a comic (albeit short) about these feelings i've had, i have still, i don't know for how long i'll have

doing personal art like this has never been easy but i somehow feel less heavy now, maybe it's bc of the wall of text i'm leaving haha

[m0nsterqzzz]

Something Small

pairing: wanda maximoff x gn!reader

summary: you and wanda celebrate your one year anniversary, and she makes you cry. Happy tears of course.

warnings: tiny mention of death of a loved one, wanda making reader happy cry? literally just fluff

a/n: so this one means a lot to me as when I was a kid, my dad always used to play the guitar for me before I'd go to bed the same way his mother did for him. When his mom died, he stopped doing it. i was a kid so i didn't understand how much it hurt for him to even hear the sound of a guitar, but now that I'm older i understand it much more. I understand it even more now that's he's been deployed for over a year and half and even the sound of guitar makes me sad. He facetimed me the other day and played for me when he learned I was having a hard time sleeping, and i instantly burst into tears. My mom hasn't always been the best, but my dad has. So this one goes out to him even though I would rather die then show him my tumbler account. also, just rewatched the nanny diaries because scarlett johansson, and i remember how much i fucking love that movie so if you havent seen it, watch it.

song used as one dad sings because its the song my dad always sung for me: "Sweet Pea" by Amos Lee

The day you told Wanda about your childhood was the day she realized she loved you. It was weird timing but it was the way your eyes shimmered as you talked about your parents and siblings that made something inside her change. It was a look of far gone happiness, one that she wanted to make come back. You’d been dating for six months at the time, and she had recently told you about her brother and parents. “They sound like amazing people.” You’d told her, and she appreciated the way you didnt add a, “they were”. It's strange, but something breaks inside her every time someone reminds her they're dead. 

You told her you felt the same way as you told her about your father, and she’d replied with, “It’s because you love him. No matter where he is, no matter what changes in your life, that’ll never change.” She understood it in a way nobody else in your life did, the same way you understand her.

She’s never really believed in soulmates, but if they did exist, she's sure your hers. When she told you that one night as you guys were getting ready for bed, you just smiled and kissed her. You’ve known she was yours since the very beginning.

She was recently sent on a week-long mission, and she’ll be back just in time for your one year anniversary. You both agreed on getting something small for each other, so you bought her a few books she's been talking about recently and some new rings. She’s not a big jewelry person, but rings are something she cannot leave the house without putting on.

The sound of the front door opening takes your eyes away from the TV screen, and you jump up from the couch to run to her. “Wanda!” “моя любовь!” She catches you as you jump into her arms, holding you up with two arms and closing the door with her foot. You move back a bit to look her in the eyes, and it’s silent as you stare at each other with admiration. She has a small cut above her eyebrow, and a bit of dirt on her. Other than that, she seems fine.

She doesn’t drop you as she leans in to give you a kiss, but she does gently set you down as she takes off her shoes and tells you, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too witchy.” You say. You guys stand there in the entryway for what feels like forever, embracing each other in silence before she decides to go take a shower.

When she comes back, she practically forces you to sit down and relax so she can serve the food even though you tell her she should after a mission. Wanda’s always been like that. Caring, even when she really just needs to be cared for.

You guys eat dinner while you talk, the previously silent room being filled with laughs and sighs of contentment. She doesn’t talk about the mission, as she always says she doesn’t like talking about work during her moments with you. She always tells you about them as you guy’s get ready for bed, and you listen to every word no matter how tired.

You guys always split the duty of dishes. She washes, and you dry and put away. It’s a boring process, but doing it with her always makes it worth it. The redhead then leads you to the living room as she uses her powers to turn on your favorite movie. She goes to grab something from behind the couch, probably a present, and you immediately stop her, “Can I go first? Please?” She nods without hesitation, almost like she's relieved she doesn’t have to go first.

Sprinting to your guys bedroom and then back, you join her on the couch and hand her the back. It’s sparkly green- her favorite color, even though everyone thinks it’s red- with white tissue paper. She basically throws the tissue paper behind her with a smile, which turns into a full on grin when she reads the titles of the books you got her. One thing about the witch is that she's easy to shop for. When you first started dating, a list of the books she currently wanted was placed on the fridge right next to the grocery list. You had simply laughed it off, but she continues to update it over time and it's become increasingly helpful.

Then she sees the rings, ones she had pointed out in a thrift store a few weeks ago. She slips on her fingers, and it takes everything in you to not make a comment about how hot her hands are. One is made up of tiny fake pearls, and that one goes on her pointer finger. Then a skeleton bone one, which goes on her ring finger, a small gold one with a red stone on it. That one goes on her pinky. Then a white one with a gold line going through the middle, which goes on the pointer finger of her other hand. She seems happy, and that makes you happy.

She gives you a small kiss and then mumbles against your lips, “Thank you my love.” The redhead sits up straight again, giving you a nervous smile and reaching behind the couch to grab something. She brings out an acoustic guitar, one similar to the one that your dad would use every night when he would play you a lullaby. In fact, right down to the tiny spot of blue paint marker your brother put on the side of it when he was five, it's the exact replica.

“So I um…..I tracked down your aunt.” Your girlfriend begins, not quite meeting your eyes as she fiddles gently with the strings. When you were a teenager and your father first died and your aunt came to pick up his things as she said you and your brother couldn't keep any of his stuff, you wanted to scream at her and rip the instrument out of her hands when she grabbed it. You don’t feel that way about Wanda holding it.

“After a polite conversation and a little bit of threatening, she handed over the guitar.” You giggle, bringing a small smile to her face. “Then I went to Clint and Laura, who spent a very long time teaching me how to play.” Your smile grows and she begins playing a familiar tune. The one your dad played. “They got very frustrated with me very quickly but they said since it was for you, they’d help me learn the song your dad made you. So I went to your aunt again and kind of stole the sheet music. I’m not very sure if that woman likes me.” “That’s okay honey. She doesn’t like anyone.”

You both quietly laugh before she clears her throat and says, “So I’m going to play it for you. I just hope you don’t hate it.” You don’t have time to tell her that you could never hate a gift from her before she's playing the chords. She messes up a few times, but it’d really be no obvious to someone how did not grow up hearing the song. Her honey-like voice fills your ears and it's like you're right back there, laying in bed with your favorite stuffed animal and watching as your dad easily moves his fingers over the frets.

“Sweet pea, apple of my eye. 

Don't know when and I don't know why.

You're the only reason I keep on coming home.”

Her voice is different from your dads, but that only makes it ten times better. You can quickly feel tears begin to form in your eyes.

“Sweet pea, what's all of this about?

Don’t get your way, all you do is fuss and pout.

You’re the only reason I keep on coming home.

I'm like the Rock of Gibraltar, I always seem to falter

And the words just get in the way

Oh, I know I'm gonna crumble and I'm trying to stay humble

But I never think before I say”

A few weeks ago, Wanda had laid with you in the dark and quietly asked as she was falling asleep, “What the hell is the Rock of Gibraltar?” You had tiredly told her what it was even as confused as you were, and it makes a lot more sense now.

“Sweet pea, keeper of my soul

I know sometimes I'm out of control

You're the only reason I keep on coming”

She is out of control sometimes, but you know how to bring her back. Actually, you’re one of the only people in her life that can.

“You're the only reason I keep on coming, yeah

You're the only reason I keep on coming home”

She lets the tune ring out into the silence as she concludes the song, and she doesn’t meet your eyes until she hears you sniffle. You have tears streaming down your face, and she instantly panics. “Why are you crying my love? Oh god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Was it that bad?”

You send her a smile despite the tears and shake your head. “No. Happy tears Wands.” She sighs in relief, wiping your tears with her sleeves as you take a deep breath. “That was beautiful.” You lean into her touch as she caresses your cheek. “When my dad died……i hated the sound of music. I wondered how something so amazing could exist  if something as great as him couldn’t.” She nods in understanding. “My siblings would try to play for me, and I literally broke a piano once because of how much I hated the sound of instruments. As I got older, I got more used to hearing music, but I didn’t exactly enjoy it. It was mine and my dads thing. He would go to work for a long time and I’d barely see him but I knew that at the end of the day, every single day, he’d be there to sing to me. So many things changed over time but that never did. Until….well until it did.”

She listens as you talk, humming everyone in a while to show she's listening but also stays silent so you can talk. You run your fingers gently over the wood of the guitar as if it’ll break if you touch too hard. “But when I met you……you played music everywhere. In the car? Music was playing. Making dinner? Music was playing. Hell you get in trouble constantly for wearing earbuds on missions so you can listen to music. And at first, I struggled with it. I wasn’t going to admit it because I knew how much you loved it and I’m happy I did it. Because now, I don’t associate music with how mad I am at the universe for taking my dad, but with you. My favorite person.” Her eyes sparkle in a way that makes you want to wrap her in bubble wrap and protect her from anything and everything.

“You’re my favorite person too.” She says as she leans in to hug you, burying her head in your neck. “And I love you.” Your girlfriend adds as she places a gentle kiss on the side of your neck. “I love you to Wands.” You mumble.

You don’t see it, but she lets one arm release you and places it in her hoodie pocket, squeezing the black ring box tightly. If she wasn’t sure before, she is now.

[bots-and-cons]

That time of the year again...

This is pretty much purely a vent post, so if you don't feel like reading, don't. I'd like to start with saying that I'm in a larger scale okay, and this too will pass

I remember writing a similar post around the same time last year. I guess this is going to be a repeat thing, at least for the next couple of years. My grandma died in June 2020, and I honestly don't remember much from around that time, probably because of the depression and general bad times. I found an obituary from the first of July that year for my grandma, and I'm pretty sure the funeral was somewhere in the middle of June. It honestly wasn't as hard on me as I had imagined, probably because even though she was alive, she had been gone for a long time already. That of course doesn't mean it wasn't hard or that it didn't make me really upset for a long time after she passed. She was one of my favorite people in the world, and I loved her dearly.

Two years later on the first of July in 2022 Technoblade's passing was announced by his family on his YouTube channel. I had started watching him in 2019, which was the time I was badly depressed, suicidal and actively self harming. I was still in high school back then and would be until the end of May in 2021. It was a bad time for me and his videos were a big source of laughter, which was a rare thing for me at that time. I don't remember much from that time tbh, but I remember watching the potato war videos and having a genuinely good time, even if it was only for that 20 minutes. I originally heard about Technoblade from my younger brother, and we also bonded a lot over his videos. His videos brought us closer as siblings and we talked a lot about a new video whenever one was published. Techno's videos and streams helped me through a lot of tough times, which is probably why his passing was so hard on me. The two years since his passing, I always get recommended tribute videos and memorial stuff like animatics people have made around this time of year. I've been crying my eyes out for pretty much every night again for about the past week. I've just not been having the best time recently.

Another thing I've been thinking about because of the anniversary of Techno's death is that I'm going to be 24 in a bit under a week. Techno died when he was 23, he was so young. I don't really know how to articulate how I'm feeling about this, but confusion is probably the best word. I don't know how to feel, how am I even supposed to feel? The world isn't fair, it doesn't matter how amazing of a person someone might be, cancer doesn't discriminate. Shitty things don't care how old you are or how much good you've done, they will come all the same.

Anyway, I guess I'm just feeling stressed and kinda sad. My summer courses suck and I hate that I took them in the first place, it's just constant stress, and I'm annoyed all the time. I'll survive, even if what I'm currently feeling sucks ass ＞﹏＜

[flimflamfandom]

S'Lach Lanu

Mordecai trusts Ivy.

Mordecai trusts Ivy enough to come to her in a time of need. Mordecai trusts her to meet him at the synagogue, 10 hours into prayers on the anniversary of Atlas May's death. He trusts her enough to weep in front of her, to say what he knew for so long.

"…I know who killed Atlas May."

He says this, under an ornate stained glass window, letting in the full moon and the tinted lights outside. He says this clutching her shoulders, his glasses stained with grit and tears.

"You can't tell anyone you know…you can't. Please…this is between you, me, and the lord." He choked back tears.

"I…Atlas was talking with men from New York, and those men wanted me, and if he found out he'd…I had to get out. They wanted a map. I gave them a map."

"…who…who killed him?"

Mordecai took off his glasses, trembling. He was short of breath, his gasps awkward and stuttering. He muttered something.

"…Mordecai?" Ivy looked concerned. She held his hands. He began weeping.

"…I have recited S'Lach Lanu so many times…" He said. "It's…it's a daily prayer."

"…Mordecai…you…you didn't." She said. "You were like an uncle to me, an older brother. You did so much for me…you smiled around me, you kept me safe, you-"

"…" He wept.

Ivy began to cry. "…he was my godfather."

"I'm sorry…my lord, I'm sorry!"

Ivy hugged him. Ivy held on. "I…" She let him cry onto her, staining her shoulder. She let him weep, until the dim light became too little, even for the nighttime.

Mordecai collected himself. He put his glasses back on. Ivy spoke.

"Mordecai." She said. "…that…prayer thing."

"Which one?"

"For forgiveness?" She asked. "…how does it go?"

"…"

"I know your prayers have…tones. Or something like that."

"…S'lach Lanu, Avinu, Ki Chatanu…"

He recited it with her, once, almost teaching it to her.

She walked out, and left, going back to her dorm.

"Have fun with the gangsters tonight, Ives?"

"Shut it, Helen." Ivy turned out the light.

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Wait for Me - All I've Ever Known Part 6

I'm coming, wait for me

I hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet, and it sounds like drumming

And I am not alone, I hear the rocks and stones echoing my song

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I don’t know what came over me, asking Jordan to drive me to Sam’s grave. First off, it’s not like there’s anything there. It’s an empty wooden box. Secondly, I don’t even like going there with my family, and I rarely have the courage to go alone. Jordan and I were barely cordial at this point, why did I trust them with this? But visiting his grave had been on my mind more and more since the anniversary of his disappearance, and the question had fallen out of my mouth before I even realized what I was going to say. The only one more shocked than me by my request was Jordan, their brown eyes widening as they spun to look me in the eyes.

“I could walk, it really isn’t that far. Forget I said anything.” I said awkwardly, picking at my nail beds.

“No, no, I’ll drive you. Come on, before everyone else wakes up.” Jordan headed for the front door, not waiting for my weak protests. So that’s how I ended up on the back of Jordan’s motorcycle, sporting a massive black helmet, and clinging to their waist for dear life as we made the short drive to the cemetery. 

As they drove, I couldn’t help but become acutely aware of the way my heart sped up being so close to Jordan. The smell of leather, cigarettes, and their cologne combined with the intensity of the wind in my ears and how my entire body was pressed against Jordan’s back was going to be the death of me. But once we clambered off of the bike and began making our way through the tombstones, I felt the sinking dread creeping up on me. The fear, the grief, all the unanswered questions. Feelings I usually forced into boxes and buried in the back of my mind. But around Jordan, I had begun to let go. Being alone with Jordan was like commiserating with a castmate in the dressing room after a play, especially now that they knew more about my secrets. So I could feel myself letting go, my posture (which was usually picture perfect) almost curling in on itself as we got closer to the location I had chosen - a tall oak tree a little separated from the others.

“I picked the spot.” I whispered to Jordan. “Thought he’d like the tree.” I didn’t expect them to say anything to that. I was grateful that they didn’t, quietly walking by my side.

When I found the spot where Sam’s marker was, Jordan made a show of putting in their earbuds, then leaned against the tree. They faced the other way to give me some privacy. I sat next to the small stone, focusing on my strongest memories of Sam’s face. Memories I kept locked away. The way his curls bounced when he was excited, the exasperated look he would give me when Luke was being particularly... Luke. The songs we would sing together, the inside jokes we shared. The million times he made me watch Waterworld. The way he never failed to make me laugh when I was crying. 

Tears started to stream down my face without me realizing it. "Where are you, Sammy?" I whispered. "Where'd they take you?" My shoulders shook slightly as I sobbed. "I miss you so much. Please, come back to me." I whispered quietly to the abyss. I rested my forehead on the cold stone, feeling waves of grief wash over me. Feelings of loss and anger and pain that I force down like bile, all coming up. I just let myself sob, feeling the weight of a whole year without my best friend crushing me all at once. 

And the fear. What if he was out there? Was he in pain? Or did he just die somewhere else? Some other way? Is he just rotting away in some forest somewhere? Is he lost or afraid? So many questions, no answers. And how was I supposed to do anything about it all alone? I didn’t even know where to start. I’m supposed to be some kind of fucking hero. I’m supposed to be smart. And my brother is gone and all I can do is sit around and cry, signing my life away to the corporation that uses us however they can.They feel entitled to us because they “made” us. Grief for Sam blurred with anguish at the situation I was in now, and the sickening realization at how helpless I truly was.

After a while, I sat up straighter, the sobs subsiding as I pulled myself together. I somehow felt lighter, and more fragile. Jordan threw a travel package of tissues at my head and I laughed as I cried, blowing my nose loudly. 

“Do you travel with those or did you come prepared?” I asked, chuckling. 

“I came prepared.” They said, feigning nonchalance. They were still leaning on the tree, gazing off into the cemetery. Jordan wasn’t one to shy away from silence, allowing me time to fully pull myself together. I stood up, brushing off my pants, and walking over to them. 

“Whenever I come out here with my family, they want to make it a big thing. Did you get the right flowers? Are we in the right clothes? Can the driver wait for us?” I sighed. “Sometimes I feel like fucking Truman. Always putting on a show, never really sure who it’s for.” I admitted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I could always tell you were faking it.” They said wryly, giving me a sideways glance. I laughed, a real genuine laugh, a little too loud for the somber atmosphere.

“It kind of does.” I said, smiling back. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a moment, appreciating the strange beauty of the cemetery in the fall. 

“What makes you think Sam is still out there somewhere? Is it some kind of sixth sense?” They asked me, keeping their eyes forward. 

“No.” I said, laughing lightly, and then I paused, taking a deep breath. “When Sam was suicidal, a couple of years before he disappeared, his biggest concern was us. His family, I mean. He didn’t want to ‘cause us any more issues.’” I put the last part in air quotes, a stray tear trickling from my eye. “It’s nonsense that he would just... disappear. But no one else thought that, so...” I gestured at the graveyard around me. After a long moment of silence, Jordan spoke.

“I always thought it sounded suspicious. But that’s not really what you say to a grieving friend.” They said finally. I laughed darkly.

“Luke and I have had multiple disagreements over this particular issue. Something to the effect of me ‘not knowing our brother as well as I think I do’ and just being ‘a silly little girl who can’t face reality’.” I scoffed. “It’s good you didn’t.” I found myself glaring ahead at nothing. Jordan shifted slightly. 

“I... think I overheard one of those fights.” They said sheepishly. “Not on purpose! Obviously.” They reassured me. “But it, uh, well...”

“That’s embarrassing.” I said, laughing awkwardly. “My relationship with Luke was complicated before Sam vanished, so that just made everything messier.” I explained. Luke acted like he was so much older and wiser than us, and was always willing to do exactly what our parents wanted him to. “Anyways, my family’s fucked, I’m sure your family’s fucked, because at this point, it’s a statistical miracle to be a supe with a good relationship with their parents, now let’s go grab some food.” I said, signaling the end of this little heart-to-heart. I smiled and made the trek back to their bike. 

When we made it back to the townhouse, Luke, Cate, and Andre were all lounging in the living room.

“Hey, nerds, we were gonna watch a few movies, pretend like we don’t have a shit ton of studying to do. Wanna join?” Andre called out to us as we came in.

“Emma will kill me if I don’t invite her.” Jordan said, pulling out their phone to text her. I didn’t know Emma well, but I knew she and Jordan went way back, and that she was a riot. She’s one of those people that you want to be friends with as soon as you meet them. She lights up any room she’s in, and makes everyone feel welcome.

Before I know it, we’re all crammed into the living room. I’m squished between the arm of this old loveseat and Jordan. Emma’s sitting on a pillow on the floor by our feet, and Luke, Cate, and Andre are all piled onto an equally old couch. I grimaced at the line up Andre had selected - a series of horror movies that looked to be particularly frightening. I toyed with the idea of coming up with an excuse to bail - I wasn’t looking for more nightmare fuel. I had enough of that in my real life, thank you very much. But I felt Jordan’s thigh pressed tantalizingly against mine and I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

The first movie went fine - The Exorcist. I mean, it was scary, but I was alright. Then came What Lies Beneath. The psychological nature of it was hard enough, but when Norman was holding his wife underwater, every muscle in my body tensed. I felt my hands begin to tremble and my throat threaten to close as the room spun around me. Laughter that I knew wasn’t real was echoing in the room and I couldn’t hear anything else. 

I tried to remember what Grace had told me to do. I started counting, knowing if I made it to a thousand, I could leave without drawing too much attention.

Flashback

“Listen, Mags, I know this is a lot, and you’re scared. PTSD is no joke - and while your therapist can give you tools, they obviously don’t know everything.” I clenched my jaw as she said this - Vought had made me agree to use Vought appointed counselors and I was prevented from sharing certain details with them. “If you’re ever in public and you start feeling an episode coming on, count to a thousand, and then excuse yourself to the restroom. By that point, you should be through the worst of it and be able to make it to privacy without alerting anyone that something is wrong.” I nodded, pushing down the torrent of questions I still had for her. 

Jordan must have noticed the change in my posture because they reached over and squeezed my hand, startling me and making me lose count. Fuck. I squeezed their hand back, trying to keep myself present. I focused on the feeling of the arm of the loveseat digging into my ribs, trying to force the sound of laughter away. I took a deep breath, realizing I had forgotten to keep breathing in my efforts to maintain composure. 

Their breath was hot on my neck. “You ok, little mouse? It’s just a movie.” They whispered softly. I nodded stiffly, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “Ok, then can you loosen up a bit? I’d like to keep my fingers.” My heart skipped a beat and I dropped their hand suddenly.

“Sorry about that.” I mumbled, the embarrassment bringing me out of my flashback slightly. I looked down and realized that I was trapped in my spot, cornered between Emma and Jordan. Every part of my body was screaming at me to run. I still didn’t feel like I could breathe right. Jordan looked back at me, concern etched in their face. I realized my hands were clenched in fists in my lap, knuckles white with the effort. Jordan picked up one of my hands, the one closer to them, and gently but firmly forced my hand open. They smoothed my hand, almost massaging my palm with their thumbs as they tried to soothe me. I took a long and deep breath, trying desperately to calm down. They interlaced our fingers, holding my hand in an effort to soothe me.

Finally, the credits began to roll, and people began cleaning up and saying good night. Everything felt far away, like I had turned the volume down on the world. I went through the motions, waving goodbye and getting up to go to bed. Once I made my way upstairs, Jordan cornered me in the hallway, the same way they did when we first met.

“You sure you’re alright, mouse? Need anything?” I shook my head but found myself stepping forward and wrapping my arms around Jordan in a tentative embrace.

“It’s been a long day.” I said quietly. They wrapped their arms around me, hugging me close.

“It’s been a long year.” They corrected. “You’re doing great. Sleep well, alright?” They said, before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And I couldn’t keep a small smile off of my face as I nodded and went into my room. Maybe everything was going to turn out alright...

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edits by @barbieprincesshilton

[jjmaybankswifes-blog]

steve harrington x fem reader

warnings fluff, loss of a brother

contains fluff and enemies to lovers and family loss

MINORS DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your brother was murdered three years ago today you begged to not have to go to school but here you are sitting in class next to robin buckley and behind steve the hair harrington you were in a bad mood all day you had a headache from crying so much last night and the teachers voice was not helping

after the bell rang after what felt like a year you speed walk out of there and you don't look where you're going and you bump straight into someone and hit your head on the ground and you have to go to the nurse and the worst part was is the person who had to walk you was steve the hair Harrington he made your headache worse and he didn't even talk

once you finally get out of the nurses office you get looks because you have a bandage on your head and you get called names for being clumsy but steve and his goons which makes it way harder not to cry today they are the last thing you need but they don't know that

you aren't allowed to tell anyone about your brother because you know you will get bullied and you can't take that and have to grove your best friend you also realized that the saying "it will get better with time" is fake as hell it gets way harder

you hate steve harrington with a passion you hate his stupid hair his stupid face his stupid voice his stupidly loud footsteps you hate the fact he does want you and you want him you hate that he wants nancy

you're walking to your locker when you get to your locker you are very unhappy to see steve (the hair) harrington waiting for you

"the fuck you want" you ask "did you do the homework?" steve asks " yea but youre not getting it" you say " why not" steve asks with a smirk knowing he's getting on your nerves

[time skip after school]

you're sitting down on a picnic bench doing your homework in the middle of the woods not expecting anyone to be out here you blast music "can you turn that shit down" you here a familiar voice say "steve? what are you doing out here?" you ask annoyed you really just wanted to be alone today

" just walking around something wrong?" he asks "can you leave me alone i don't wanna talk to you" you say "who said i wanted to talk to you?" steve asks with a smirk and you start crying lightly not knowing why you would especially talking to steve harrington

"holy shit are you crying?" steve asks genuinely concerned "yea i'm fucking crying steve the fuck you care can you just leave me alone" you yell steve just stands there looking at you in shock and you start having crying so hard you can't breathe and he realizes

he walks over and knells next to you " hey it's alright take some deep breaths with me okay" "okay" you manage to get out

he breathes in and you breathe in and he breathes out and you breathe out and you both do it until you are calmed down and can breathe normally

"what's wrong (y/n)?" steve asks worried you don't know why but you trust him enough to tell him everything

"it's my brothers death day anniversary he was murdered three years ago today and i have to go to his grave later and i don't want to because it's gonna be so hard and i can't tell anyone because no one knows except now you" you spit out so fast he could barely understand some of the words

"why didn't you tell anyone?" "because i would get bullied for it and don't even say i wouldn't you would have bullied me too" you say tearing up again steve wipes your tears and says " i wouldn't have bullied you for it and i'm not gonna bully you at all anymore you don't deserve anything you're going through and i'm sorry for being an asshole" you don't know what to say so you just hug him and he hugs back taking that as you forgiving him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i was gonna make this a random story but it's been three years since my brother was killed so i used that instead to make this it's not the best but 🤷🏼‍♀️

[minsarasarahair]

And there goes my first vtuber oshi, Vesper Noir...

I'm not really upset. Just a little empty and my heart sunk but I don't feel the need to cry. Maybe because I'm still a novice in vtuber community and I probably didn't fall deeper to the rabbithole yet? On the contrary, I wish both of them good luck to their new journey. I always know liking a celebrity will not last forever compare to liking a fictional character. I don't have any regrets because I always tune in to his stream whenever I have time and bought his digital contents (menshi/vp). I'll definitely treasure the memories he gave me. I sure hope he will still be around streaming with different persona because I'll definitely try watching him. I like him that much.

Being disappointed is valid, of course. I'm probably unfazed because of my own past experiences. I'm a Kalafina fan and they disbanded suddenly after their 10th anniversary without any graduation but all girls have solo career (Keiko, Hikaru, Wakana) now. I'm happy for them. I start to like Zhang Zhehan too because of his Word of Honor's Zhou Zishu portrayal and something happened so yeah. And now Vesper Noir lol Am I cursed or what? I'm also a fan of seiyuus like Maeno Tomoaki, Toriumi Kousuke, Akira Ishida, Suzumura Kenichi, Sho Hayami, Toshiyuki Morikawa etc. I ship Maeno and Toriumi's characters in Tsukiuta (Hajime and Haru) but I also love their relationship as coworkers. Maeno also have a genuine friendship with his coworker, Kenn. Similar to Magni and Vesper's case.

Anyway, I kind of expected that two of them will go together if they ever graduate because they love each other too much as friends and they have very similar vision as creatives. They are not the best singer but more like streamer or content creator. It make sense. Magni always mentioned how Vesper is always there to keep him sane in Holotempus and Vesper is the same, he always appreciate that Magni is such a considerate friend. Because of that, its really hard for me to imagine if one of them will stay. They are truly friends behind the scene and love playing APEX offstream to distress. If you know Magni's other persona, he still mentioned Vesper's other persona frequently so yeah those two are THAT close. They are still playing games together as we speak. They are no longer Magni and Vesper but they are happy. At least they are together. Platonic soulmates.

As for why they need to go that way, I think there are many factors such as taking care of health, clashing creative views or sudden change of plans but its definitely not because they hate their fans or want to hurt their fans. If there is something they don't like, its probably the limitations of corporate hence why so many creatives or artists chose a freelance path. Its nothing new. You can't also control life or what's going to happen to you so its expected that things do "change". I even see myself abandoning this tumblr blog one day without goodbye. Best example is Donten Ni Warau's Tenka story. Tenka has so many ambitions with Sousei for their Yamainu orgnanization but he left suddenly because he want to focus on raising his little brothers after the sudden death of his parents. Sousei hated him for that but they got closure in the movie 1 where Tenka apologized to him and Sousei smiled back saying something like "That's your decision. The path you choose to walk. You don't regret any of that, right? So why are you apologizing?" That's the reality and we have no choice but to accept it. I'm sure it was a difficult decision but it they think its for the best who am I to dictate their life. There are friends that will not stay with us forever but the memories they left behind will help us to move forward. Also, Axel's fortune-telling stream kinda implied a big change will happen within few months and he need to be ready for it. Its actually true. My guts is correct. I always thought its talking about Magni and Vesper.

To end this post, I think Tabidachi no Yell (Departing Yell) by SOARA fit what I'm feeling right now. Its also a graduation song so it really fits. I picked the part that says my feeling. Its from different part of the song but I combined it. I'm not good with words but I really am thankful Vesper Noir became my kamioshi. He widen my horizon as a person. Now I'm imagining him living his life isolated from the world like this Japanese guy who left his salaryman life to live in an abandoned school.

"Thank you for being you. I realized how important it is. Even if I know in my head this has to happen, Look, I'm crying again. How can my heart hurt this much. The days I miss are faraway now. Tomorrow is a bit scary. We have to say goodbye, But you will always be you How can you captivated my heart this much Thank you for all the memories They overflow in my heart"

On a good note! Vesper Noir as shapeshifting vampire is a Canon Lore now to me! He or Cover will probably not make a continuation of their story so I can do whatever I want with his character! Shipping him with Magni is also feel more comfortable now for some reason. Maybe because they are only characters now and the people behind them left the characters for different persona?

Lastly, I have decided I will graduate too from following Holostars or Holotempus. I still cheer for them to reach their dreams but its hard for me to continuously follow them because my favorite left. Its like when your favorite character is killed in the story. I have to move on. This is the best choice for me. I'll be watching Vesper's other persona because his chatting stream is what I need. I listened to his old vods and its very chill.

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

Long post. Fic under the dotted line. Or: ao3: What we are left with

Before the actual fic, here is a long post about why I wrote this fic. Disclaimer: heavy themes of grief.

I know this is a few days late, but I wanted to write something for the 15th Anniversary of the Merlin pilot episode, and it ended up needing a lot more time to get done than I thought.

I shouldn't be surprised though. Aside from most of my writings ending up longer than intended, Merlin is a show that's always meant a lot to me.

It was my introduction to the fandom world, for starters. Merthur was my first OTP and continues to be a favorite of mine. Katie McGrath was my first celebrity crush. There are Merlin fanfics and fanart that have touched my heart in a way not a lot of things have. (See my username). Fandom communities, in turn, helped me feel less alone, especially in a time where loneliness was weighing very heavily on me.

Merlin is also just magic, and capes, and swordfighting, and pretty dresses. Horseriding, dragons, unicorns, curses, poisons, plots, schemes, saving the day, and shenanigans.

Merlin is heartbreak, love, betrayal, violence, peace, oppression, secrets, friendship, hope, and bonds that can not be broken by death and tragedy. Bonds that will not fade in a thousand years.

My brother introduced me to Merlin when I was very young and I fell in love with it instantly. Partially because it meant more time spent with said brother. Episode three scared the shit out of me though, for some reason, and it would be a couple years before I started watching it again. Coincidentally, I started watching it again sometime around when my brother died. So, you can see how that adds a whole other layer of importance to this show for me, not to get too personal.

But, again, I shouldn't be surprised because everything about this show does ultimately feel personal to me. It's why I haven't done much writing or anything with it. I know I just won't really be able to stop. (Hence, how long this post is.)

Nonetheless, I wanted to write something for it. I debated doing a more merthur-based thing, but I ended up doing something mainly centered around Gwen's perspective in the first couple months after Arthur died. The first part is mainly about her. The second part... well, I can't let myself even think about all the grief this show's characters go through without getting dragged into Merlin's grief specifically. I'm not entirely sure why, though I have my theories.

Either way, the second half is more about a healing Gwen trying to help Merlin start healing as well. This is not a happy fic. This is not meant to be an angsty fic. It's really not meant to be anything other than self-indulgent for me. I'm probably subconsciously trying to help myself work through some of my own shit and, you know.. I'm tempted to maybe think that that's okay. I don't talk about grief enough, really.

Sometimes, I've felt like I was faking my grief and didn't deserve to be included in the group of people with "real" grief because I obviously wouldn't know what I was talking about.

I've felt like a ticking time bomb holding in all of my emotions, terrified of the day they explode and possibly hurt whoever is nearby.

I've cried and done everything I could to hide it, screamed with nobody around to hear it, and lied about being fine to people I Never want to lie to.

Merlin tried not to cry around people. Merlin screamed when no one was around to hear it. Merlin lied about being fine to people he Never wanted to lie to.

So did many other characters in Merlin.

I find so many of the characters in Merlin to be beyond relatable. I can scarcely find it funny.

I can't fully explain everything this show has done for me. I can explain that:

It starts with a young warlock making a journey to a place where no one knows him, and he quickly learns it's safer if no one ever knows him fully.

He makes friends anyway, including one who will fundamentally change everything Merlin knows about himself just by existing.

Merlin makes mistakes with consequences.

Everyone makes mistakes with consequences.

The show ends with multiple tragic deaths, a kingdom that is heartbroken (but moves on as they must), and an old warlock, who has spent hundreds of lifetimes being older than he looks and depressed, and who has spent barely a fraction of one lifetime being young and hopeful.

Merlin loses everyone he cares about, and yet, he still has hope. He still lives for Arthur. Now, I'm not expecting anyone to come back from the dead anytime soon. I don't think it's a good idea to want such a thing in real life, either. But if Merlin can hope and live after 1000+ years of loneliness and grief, then how can I not think it's possible for me to get through my equivalents of all that shit?

Oh, and don't get me started on the LGBTQ+ subtext and "magic users are oppressed and have to hide who they are to survive" comparison. That hit me like a goddam freight train even harder than realizing I liked Morgana before AND after she became evil.

Anyway, there's a fic if you want to read it. There's angst, Gwen POV, and everyone trying to get Merlin to eat something and go outside to prevent him developing a resistance to sunlight or something.

Enjoy...?

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

"What we are left with" or "A Love Letter to the Adventures of Merlin BBC"

The king is dead.

Arthur is dead.

Gwenevere sits on the throne as people ask her about all the things that need to be done in the kingdom. Camelot is under her rule... and her rule alone.

Plenty of people will talk about how "if me from ten years ago saw me now, I wouldn't believe it." Gwen felt like it was beyond understandable for her to feel this was most accurate for her life.

She was born a peasant; a blacksmith's daughter. It seems impossible that she sits on the throne now.

It wasn't long ago that it quite simply and entirely WAS impossible, in fact.

It was a huge change, not only for her, but for all of Camelot, and arguably, the world. It was inevitable that there would be challenges galore, and a number of severe ones at that.

She had known that Arthur was a popular target for people set on hurting Uther, taking over the kingdom, etc. etc.

She had known that being Queen would be far from easy.

But she also knew that Arthur needed her. According to him, Camelot also needed her. There isn't much that Gwen wouldn't do for the people she loves and it isn't like the burden of power doesn't come with upsides.

She lives in a palace with a large bed for her to sleep in and the grandest of rooms that she doesn't have to clean. Many of the things she used to do for herself, like bathing, dressing, and preparing meals, are all done for her now, even if she still has a habit of making the bed when her handmaidens aren't looking.

She doesn't have to wonder what kind of trouble Elyan is up to these days, because he is here, where she can keep a closer on eye on him and worry just a teensy bit less about him.

She has friends who are always there for her. Ones who respect her and defend her with their lives, but will still also laugh with her and give a shoulder to cry on when she needs it, as she still is for them after all these years.

All of these things are still true. Many of these people are still here, but she has never felt so alone.

Morgana betrayed her and the kingdom. She left her and eventually kidnapped her for the sake of warping her mind and manipulating her. They used to have a bond she had thought unbreakable. They had whispered secrets into each other's hair while holding each other after some of Morgana's nightmares. They had inside jokes and knew each other so well that they seemed to have an entire secret language between them that consisted solely of ticks and facial expressions. A crinkle of her nose when a suitor said something unclever or boarish. A raised eyebrow and a slight frown when Arthur was surprisingly (if only momentarily) gallant. A smile when Gwen said something she found amusing.

Gwen hadn't seen that smile in years. Any delusion of seeing it again was lost long ago. But apparently, she still had a sliver of hope left because hearing that she was dead, while in many ways was a relief, also hurt nearly as much as hearing the same fate had met Arthur.

That was both Gweneviere's greatest strength and greatest weakness; she was never really lacking in hope.

Even now, when her hope is arguably facing its biggest challenge yet, it's nowhere near gone.

She wishes she could say the same for Merlin's.

He's barely said a word. In fact, Gwen had hardly seen him at all. He had gone straight to Gaius, who somehow got an explanation out of him, and Merlin was presumably keeping to his room.

She couldn't blame him. If Gwen didn't have the responsibility of being queen, she might have done the same. And even then, she has still taken some time to shed her fair share of tears.

Gwen and Arthur's relationship was always an entirely different matter from Merlin and Arthur's relationship. All three of them knew this in some way. (Really, most of Camelot knew, to a point.)

Gwen and Arthur loved each other. That was never false, but there had been a time when they thought it was a different sort of love than it was. Once their relationship had become known, the people of Camelot thought they were essentially soulmates and destined to be one of the greatest love stories ever told. They weren't entirely wrong, but it wasn't the whole truth.

They could tell each other absolutely anything. Each of them had a great mind that worked well with the other, leading not only to an excellent partnership in rulers of the land, but also to an understanding that meant they could always rely on each other in any moment of need.

Gwen loved Arthur for his bravery and willingness to change himself and the things within his power for the betterness of all. She also loved him for his goofiness and his tragic past. She loved him for never passing personal judgement on her for her station or gender or race. She loved him for seeing her as the person she was, not the servant he was expected to see her as.

And that's exactly one of the reasons why he loved her. She didn't treat him like he was only a royal figure to worship and bend over backwards for. He wasn't just a king. He was her king. Just as she was his queen.

And to be a better king, Arthur needed people who would tell him when he was being conceited or small-minded...

Or a prat.

Merlin was there for Arthur just as much, if not far more so than Gwen was and that did not lessen the love between Gwen and Arthur even a little.

But Merlin had Arthur's heart from the moment they met.

And Arthur had Merlin's.

Many people would see and hear how Merlin blatantly insulted the KING and be baffled when his majesty would respond with Laughter. This servant could call King Arthur a dollophead, a clotpole, a prat, a cabbagehead, and so much more and face little to no repercussions. And this happened regularly. Many times a day, in fact. It was puzzling to many.

But Gwen knew why Arthur rarely, if ever, took offense to Merlin's ribbing and why Merlin would keep coming back only to be given endless chores and musings about his supposed lack of intelligence.

It wasn't because Merlin needed the job or had an obligation to the kingdom, at least not entirely. It wasn't because Arthur needed a servant or still felt he owed Merlin the job as part of a life debt, at least not entirely.

It was because they needed each other. And they both knew it in one way or another. That's why the words either didn't sting like it might seem they should or simply weren't enough to keep each other away. They knew they didn't truly mean it. They knew there was something far more important in their relationship than than there would be in any of their squabbles; even the serious ones.

"A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole."

Gwen would never describe it in those words alone. It's silly to say something so cryptic and simply stated and pretend it explains absolutely everything in complete clarity.

Besides, who could accurately put into words the strength of Arthur and Merlin's love for one another.

Gwen and Arthur were husband and wife. But they were friends first. And when they got married they did so knowing it was best for the kingdom, and not in the way Uther thought, but in the way Queen Gwenevere and King Arthur believed. They were going to prove that change could lead to great things.

Gwen had hoped she wouldn't have to do so alone.

And even if it wasn't fair to her friends to think that she was truly alone, it would be quite some time before she felt otherwise.

The king is dead.

Queen Gwenevere sits on a single throne with a crown on her head, facing her subjects who she would put everything she had, as well as all she'd remember Arthur to be, into leading her people into the time of peace and prosperity that she and Arthur had hoped to see one day.

Arthur is dead.

Nothing would ever be the same. There were going to be some major difficulties in the road ahead, perhaps even some failures. But that will not stop her from trying harder. Arthur's loss will not stop her from loving again or hoping still. Nothing will stop her from being there for her kingdom... and for her friends.

. . . . .

She walked down the halls one step at a time. She smiled at the passers by and thanked those who gave their condolences.

She stopped wearing black a few weeks ago, but there were still dreadful clouds over everyone's hearts, though most of them had found ways to keep going nonetheless.

Except for one heart, it would seem, whose clouds were still striking everything that moved with unforgiving lighting and drowned out every sound with its devastating downpour.

For about two weeks, he hadn't left his room. Then the knights and her had taken turns in visiting him to try and get him to eat something or get some fresh air at the very least.

When he had seen Gwen, he could scarcely do more than sob into her shoulder. And she let her own tears fall as they held each other. He couldn't talk. He didn't utter a single word and even his cries were choked down to the point she was concerned he start actually choking.

He was becoming increasingly unhealthy, but somehow, neither he nor Gaius seemed especially worried about him dying, as strange as it was. He grew frighteningly more skinny as he didn't eat. His skin was paler and dryer, but still he wouldn't move from his bed. He flinched away from any golden light they might try and let in through the window. The dullness that would take over his face when you so much as showed him a glass of water was all beyond worrisome. Yet Gaius would simply say to give him time. Gwen and the knights worried just how much time it would take and whether it would be before or after Merlin starved to death.

After about a month, Gaius had said he'd successfully convinced Merlin to have a few bites of stew and some water for his father figure's sake if not for his own. They all nearly tried to throw a party in celebration. He still wouldn't leave his room, though.

A month later had him out of bed and dressed. He even helped Gaius with his work as best he could, but would not leave the physician's chambers. He talked some, but very little, and hardly above the softest whisper. And he wouldn't stay out of his room for very long. This went on like this for months.

Gwen tried to visit more often, but couldn't stay for very long. There was so much to do. She had understood when Merlin didn't want to be part of the ceremony held in remembering of Arthur, especially since he had already said his goodbyes when it mattered.

But there was so much more to do. Gwen was facing a lot of pushback from the members of the council who didn't believe she had a right to sit on the throne. She was handling that. With plenty of people vouching for her, and her own actions proving to be helping Camelot more and more every day, as well as the majority of Camelot's people loving her and everything she stands for as well as her strength in the face of her husband's death, she's been able to handle it. There's a million other issues that have mostly gotten smaller and smaller as she worked at them and any new issues that came up.

But she still needed Merlin. She still needed her friend. Merlin was one of the few people closest to her that hadn't died or betrayed her. She wasn't going to let him hide himself away forever. And there were still a number of things they needed to talk about.

His magic for one.

So here she was, walking to the physician's chambers ready to get her best friend out in the world again if she had to drag him out.

She knew he'd likely never be the same or even fully happy again without Arthur, but she was determined to remind him that he was so much more than what he was for Arthur: His protector. His servant. His lover. His friend... His real soulmate.

All those things he was to Arthur made up and will always be a huge part of who Merlin is, but Gwen will not let him think he is nothing with Arthur gone.

So she knocks on Gaius' door.

Gaius looks worried when he opens the door, but also almost received as he let's her in and tells her Merlin is in his room.

They share a knowing look before she walks up the steps and carefully opens the door.

When she walks in, she sees Merlin sitting by the fire, holding Ygraine's sigil in his hands and watching the flames shape a person in armour interacting with a person in more common garb. It's almost like the fire is playing Merlin's memories back to him. Gwen only thinks this because she recognizes the scene. The day Arthur made some poor boy run around with knives getting thrown at him, and Merlin stood up to him, with no thought to station or the sorts of power one person could try and use against him.

Gwen knew Merlin had magic by now. Gaius and she had discussed it partially after she figured it out. She had suspected something of the like for a little while, now, in fact.

She had never seen him use magic blatantly and so closely before. She took a breath in surprise and the images in the flames flickered away as Merlin turned to look at her, his eyes still shining gold for just a second before turning back to blue. His face was wet.

Neither of them moved for a moment before Gwen made the choice to slowly walk over and sit beside him. The warlock. The love of her dead husband's life. One of her greatest friends.

"Merlin."

He hadn't broken eye contact with her at all since she came in, but with the sound of her voice, the clouded sheen across his eyes flickered to almost reveal what was behind them. He said nothing back.

"I know, we've been skirting around some very difficult talks these past couple months, and I don't plan to press you on what I'm fairly sure is the most painful one for you, seeing as it is also the most painful one for me." The cloudy sheen grew thicker. You once saw a deep blue when you looked at Merlin. Now it seemed more and more like a stormy gray.

Gwen resumed. "But there is one thing I think we need to talk about sooner rather than later: your magic." (This wasn't entirely true. There wasn't much of a time limit on this as even if they started taking down the anti-magic laws in the system, it would be a very long time before they started to see real change. Nonetheless, it does need to happen and it's a much better conversation to get Merlin out and about again than trying to talk about anything to do with Arthur specifically.)

Surprisingly, his expression stayed stone still. No surprise, no fear, no confusion, nothing. She had figured Gaius told him she knew and in some of her visits to Merlin, she had made implications and questionable comments to subtly let him know that she knew and was not going to have him executed over it. And avoiding addressing it directly for fear of him panicking or shutting down or doing something reckless. So she wasn't expecting him to be totally off-guard.

But to have absolutely no emotional reaction at all was not a good sign.

He continued to say nothing.

"Merlin, please. Nothing is easy anymore, I know. Not talking to your friends. Not getting out of bed. Not even breathing, at times. Believe me, I understand this. Obviously there are parts of what you're going through, that I don't understand, but that's never going to stop me from trying. And the same goes for Gaius, Elyan, Percival, and Leon. We are all here for you. That's what makes us friends is We are all here for each other."

He had looked away around when she talked about wanting to understand and had slowly drifted to looking back at the fire.

"Please look at me, Merlin. I need to know that you're hearing me." She grabbed his arm softly and his eyelids twitched. Slowly, so slowly, he started to move his lips like he was about to speak.

He struggles for a moment before his eyes glow gold and he lowers his head as the fire starts to dance again. This time, it shows a boy playing in the woods. He makes butterflies from nothing and they dance around him and Gwen can almost hear the joyous laughter as the boy plays with his magical creations.

Then another boy appears and the butterflies fly away. The first boy is very still. Then the second boy walks over and, after a moment, he hugs him tightly. The first boy hugs back.

The image shifts. There are two young men, young enough that to still be considered boys, working in fields of grain. The crop is not doing well and the boys look concerned. One of them starts to seem frustrated with the other and gestures to the crops. The other contemplates for a moment. He looks around to see if anyone is looking and then kneels down to get his hands in the dirt.

The figures the fire makes are not as detailed as the people they represent, but they are detailed enough that two spots where the figure's eyes would be glow brighter than the rest of him. The crops flourish and grow tall. The first boy is amazed at what his friend has done and is grabbing his arm excitedly. The second is concerned.

The scene changes again, and now the boys walk alone through a town with multiple figures looking at them and whispering amongst themselves. The boys reach a particular house where a woman waits for them. She brings them inside.

In the house, the woman is talking animatedly. The boys are clearly being scolded by a worried mother.

"They suspected Will was the sorcerer." A cracking voice says quietly next to Gwen.

She immediately looks over to Merlin, who is watching the flames sullenly; tiredly. She waited for him to continue.

He sighed shakily. "When the crops became healthier than would normal even in a good year overnight, that was the last straw for the other villagers. They had suspicions before, but this was undeniable. And Will and I were known to have been in the field during the time frame the crops changed."

"If I had stayed, my mother would've had to watch one or both of us get turned against by the whole village and it wouldn't have been safe for any of us. If someone left mysteriously, and all the suspiciously magical things stopped happening, then they'd be satisfied that the sorcerer wouldn't be bothering them again. It was Will or me, and really, I was the obvious choice."

The fire showed on of the boys with a pack on his back, hugging the woman, then hugging his friend before leaving his home.

"Even if I could've bared to watch Will leave, an outcast to his home, I wouldn't have been able to live without ever using magic again. The suspicions would pick up again sooner or later. So my mother sent me away to Gaius, believing he'd teach me better control of my magic and believing the business of the city would help keep eyes off of me."

The fire shows the boy appearing over a hill, approaching the unmistakable image of Camelot. It seems so bright and hopeful.

Then Merlin is in a cave talking to the Great dragon.

"From the beginning, Kilgarrah would tell me how my destiny was to help Arthur. To protect him and help him become the greatest king the land had ever known. He told me Arthur would unite the lands of Albion and magic would be free once more."

Gwen wasn't sure what to think of this. So she just kept listening.

"It's very difficult to turn away when someone tells you there's a future where you and people like you can be free from persecution and don't have to constantly fear for your life over something you can't help. It's a lot harder to feel like that's possible when you're just a kid from Ealdor, being told this future relies almost entirely on you. That all your power and all your gifts were given to you so that you would bring about a golden age of peace for everyone by keeping one stupid prat alive." He chuckles into a cut off sob at that.

The fire then shows Uther sentencing a warlock to death in front of the poor man's mother. It shows her disappearing in rage.

It shows her throwing a dagger at Arthur's heart just before Merlin slows time to pull Arthur away safely.

Arthur looks surprisingly blurry in the flames, but far more bright and golden than anything else in the scene.

The scenes change much more rapidly now. Merlin using magic to reveal Valiant's magical shield. Merlin using magic to destroy the monster that was poisoning the water. Merlin calling the Great Dragon and ordering him to stop terrorizing Camelot and leave for good. Merlin stopping bandits with falling branches and mysteriously thrown spears. Merlin facing off Cenred and refusing the chance to rule with him.

"I couldn't save everyone."

Merlin meeting a girl under the castle to bring her food and talk with her. That girl turning into a monster and being killed by Arthur. Merlin watching Will die with an arrow in his chest and a lie on his lips for the sake of protecting his friend from Arthur. Merlin stopping Arthur from going through the veil, but being beat to going through it himself by Lancelot. (That scene wasn't quite so detailed and Gwen reached for his shoulder in thanks for that. Whether it was more for her or himself.)

"Or I didn't try hard enough."

Mordred getting thrown in the dungeons with no way to save the love of his life and Merlin doing nothing about it.

Merlin poisoning Morgana.

Gwen had to take a breath for that one. The situation back then had eventually reached her ears and she had eventually forgiven Merlin, but that didn't make it any easier a truth to face. She took her hand away, but stayed close.

"Over time, protecting Arthur with my magic became less and less about bringing about a peaceful future and so much more about just-"

He couldn't finish that sentence, but the fire showed a king in full armour grasping the forearm of his servant. The two of them only seeing each other. Arthur was very clear to see now. You could make out the sharpness of his jaw and crinkles of his eyes. The fire changed colors so his hair and crown would shine gold, his cape deepened to Pendragon red, and his eyes shifting to a piercing blue.

Merlin's figure was much less bright and detailed, but the tinted red of his neckercheif and the faint blue of his eyes were bolder than before. After all, his mission in protecting Arthur may have changed him not always for the better, but his love for Arthur always brought out the best parts of Merlin.

Merlin had kept his face expressionless through most of the story, but not like he was trying to hide his emotions anymore. No, he simply couldn't bring himself to feel anything about the secret of his magic anymore. This secret he's had to keep from almost everyone in his life for so long. He didn't care about it anymore. It wasn't about the magic anymore.

The flames slowly started to fade back to a more expected sort of flickering and grew smaller as it did. Merlin stayed quiet again. Gwen reached out again.

"Did you get to tell him?" She asked oh so softly.

His eyes watered and he nodded. Then he started shaking his head no.

"Not the way I wanted to."

Gwen thought about how beautifully the fire had danced in telling Merlin's story. The way that every time Arthur was shown, he was shown as a golden figure of hope and love doing his best to protect and lead his kingdom. It was meant to be Merlin's story, but it was difficult to focus on much besides Arthur and the beauty Merlin painted him with. Even when he killed Freya, her beauty was far from hidden, and the tragedy was not shyed away from, but Arthur was not the villain of the story. He never would be the villain in Merlin's story. And he wanted Arthur to know that. He wanted time to get Arthur to sit down and hear his side of the story. This story full of lies and secrets and pain that some may hear and think it odd that Merlin, with all his power, wouldn't be fighting against Arthur in order to build the world he wanted himself. This story that is so clearly not one of heroes against villains, or rivalry, but above all, a love story. Merlin loves Arthur more than himself. More than magic. More than anything or anyone. That's what he wanted to show Arthur. That's what he wanted Arthur to know.

Merlin's tears fell more forcefully, and Gwen took him in her arms. She let her tears run freely as well.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gasped through his cries. Gwen didn't need to ask what he was sorry about. Or who he was sorry to. They both knew.

"I'm sorry too." Gwen replied. Because in the end, there's not much else you can say but that.

Eventually, their emotions would settle, and they'd start talking about what to do next. Having magic would no longer be a crime, but there were so few magic users and beings of magic left that there would need to be a serious effort to avoid the extinction of such people and creatures in the long run.

Merlin wasn't sure he was up to that task. It didn't help that if it was revealed to the court that he, specifically, had magic and had been hiding it for years, it would be difficult for anyone to trust him.

But he also simply didn't have faith that he could keep all of magic from dying when he couldn't even keep Arthur from dying.

Gwen didn't want to put so much pressure on him, especially with few to no signs that it would go well. But she would lift the ban on magic. Gaius could help educate people on how magic really works, and they would spread the word that magic does not make something or someone evil. It simply does what all power does and gives people the opportunity to make choices. Sometimes, people just choose to hurt other people.

But some other times, people will instead choose to help people. That's what Gwen will do with her power. Help people. Help her friends. And with time and persistence in this, things will get better, at least in some ways.

Camelot may not last forever. Magic may die out. Their story may not become the greatest legend ever told. It may even be forgotten. But it will have happened. And, in the end, isn't it worth everything, just to say that it happened?

[saintgautier]

kitty | felix & glenn

Felix closes the bedroom door behind him and lets out a frustrated sigh. Heading over to his bed he lays down, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Today marks the third year anniversary of his brother's death, and all Felix can wonder is, why him? Why Glenn? He hates wallowing in self-pity and he especially can't stand the feeling of anger lingering inside. He knows it wasn't his fault, and he knows better than to blame himself for his brother's death, but... he can't help it.

Out of the corner of his eye, on his bookshelf, a small stuffed cat sits there, motionless with its beady green eyes gleaming in the light through the window. Felix stands, walking over to the shelf and reaching for the stuffed animal. His anger seems to vanish for a few moments when he looks into the eyes of the soft toy. The cat is a little old and ragged, as it once belonged to Glenn, who regifted it to Felix when he was just a week old. Glenn loved Felix so much, he was more of a father than their own father was.

The stuffed cat never had a name, either. Felix would simply refer to it as "Kitty". He sits back down on the bed, holding Kitty, embracing it. The material is soft and soothing, as if Felix is holding Glenn again. It's nostalgic in a way. Ever since Glenn's death, Felix hasn't touched Kitty until now. "I miss him," he says softly. "I really miss him, Kitty."

The stuffed animal says nothing, of course. Felix continues, "It's my fault, isn't it?" He sets the soft toy down on his nightstand as he lays back, rolling over onto his side to face the toy. "It's my fault he's gone, Kitty. Should've never let him go out there. If I weren't any more stubborn, he would be here." Again, Kitty says nothing. After a moment or two of silence, Felix lets out a frustrated sigh. "What the hell am I even doing, talking to a stuffed animal? It's not like you have anything to say to me."

For a split second, it almost appears as if Kitty looks offended by the way Felix speaks to it. It's childish at best, but Felix almost pities the thing. "I'm sorry," he says, picking up the stuffed cat once again, holding it close to his chest. "I shouldn't take it out on you. It's not like you were the one who made Glenn leave. And it's not like you were the one who spat on his grave." He tightens the grip on Kitty. "Besides, I'm sure you loved Glenn more than Father does. At least you didn't soil his name or mock his knighthood. 'He died like a true knight' my ass."

He gently pets the head of the stuffed animal, the soft fabric emitting soothing emotions. Felix never thought he'd actually converse with a stuffed animal way older than he is - an inanimate object, sure, but an object that had a history with Glenn. Felix recalls a time where he'd bring Kitty everywhere, to Castle Fhirdiad and even over to Gautier territory. Felix even remembers the time Miklan had stolen Kitty and hid it somewhere, and Felix wouldn't stop crying for hours. Hours. He loved the damn toy so much.

It's the only thing that Felix has left of Glenn, anyways. Even after death ripped Glenn away from Felix, nothing could tear Felix away from Kitty. Which is why even when he moved to Garreg Mach Monastery, he'd brought Kitty with him, although he never talked to anyone about it. He'd left it on the shelf for days, untouched and unbothered. Until the anniversary hit him like a ton of bricks.

Normally, Felix doesn't sleep very well on Glenn's death date. But tonight he manages to get some sleep, holding Kitty close to him as he would embrace someone he loves.

[felisvulpine]

I just want to get through Christmas, new years and January 5th. When people are so kind to me, I want to hide. Because all I can really do is go in and out of various levels of buzzkill.

I try to be upbeat. It puts me in a better mood to put other people in a better mood. Why make other people miserable?

I feel bad because I don't feel worthy of the people who are kind to me. I'm dragging along way too much baggage and I was basically a recluse for many years.

Damaged. I'm afraid people are gonna notice.

Somebody at work reminds me of my brother, and it's murdering my brain.

I want to reach out to people but I can't approach people. I'm trying. It's never enough, but I'm trying. Connections are like *right there* but I'm too afraid to grab them. It leaves me in a vulnerable position.

I don't really understand how I can be so happy and so sad at the same time. And like it's not even Christmas yet?? I still have gifts to send and other preparations. Christmas. New years. The anniversary of my brother's death.

Kindness from others, happiness, and enthusiasm always being laced with reminders of sadness, bitterness, guilt.

Trying to take it moment to moment.

Also btw this isn't like some cry for help or anything. I'm in therapy and really that's the only reason I know how to feel and communicate these things now. I just needed to vent into open space. It hits hard this time of year. I'm really trying.

I used to rely on him a lot for stuff like this and I'm often reminded I don't have that sibling turtle shell anymore.

It sucks. That whole thing sucks.

I'm still here.

[beels-burger-babe]

Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day

***Oooooo Teen!MC! Thank you for the request @lovevictoire! Now, although I think I'm technically Gen z??? (I could be a millennial. I have no idea). I have like 0 sense of most pop culture and probably won't be able to write that classic gen z chaotic humour properly, so I'm not going to attempt. What I can do is the hurt/comfort aspect of this which I LOVE! So, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it. ((Oh and before I forget *hugs*))***

Summary: MC has always been a happy positive ray of light that brought joy with them wherever they went; at least that's what the brothers and the other exchange students would tell you. But when they suddenly start getting quiet and begin isolating themselves, everyone is concerned.

TW: descriptions of grief.

In the darkness of the Devildom, you were the sun.

Since arriving in the dark, cruel world of the demons, you had reminded them how to smile, how to laugh, how to love. With you around, it was like the brothers had another sibling again. For the other exchange students, you were a breath of fresh amongst all the horror and despair of the Devildom.

In short, everyone had come to love and be incredibly fond of the teenage human that; which is why they noticed instantly when you weren't acting like yourself.

For starters, you had skipped breakfast, which greatly concerned Beel. The friendly giant had to go up and bring you your food afterwards.

He gently knocked on your door with one hand as he held a plate with way too much food on it in the other. "MC? Are you awake? You missed breakfast."

There was a small curse from the other side before he heard some shuffling. The door cracked open to reveal you wrapped in a bundle of blankets. It wasn't until you looked up that Beel got a good look at your face and his stomach dropped.

Your eyes were tinged red with tear tracks stained onto your cheeks. Your bottom lip was still trembling from the effort of not breaking down into sobs. There was not a trace of the sunshine child that you usually were inside of your stormy sad eyes.

Beel's heart broke as you still attempted to give him a small smile and took the plate from him. "Th-Thanks Beel."

He kept a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. "MC, are you alright? What happened?"

Your eyes widened a little and you quickly wiped at your cheeks. "I-I'm just not feeling that well. Can...Can you tell Lucifer I'm taking a sick day?"

Beel nodded as concern grew stronger and stronger inside of him. "Of course. Whatever you need."

You weren't actually sick, Beel could tell that much. What you were was heartbroken. Something had reached into your soul and shattered it into pieces. He to ask you what it was. He wanted to reassure you that everything would be okay. But instead, he let you close the door and hurried back to his brothers.

His brothers looked at him skeptically as he arrived, noting the lack of a tiny human alongside him. It was Belphie, however, who noticed the distressed look on Beelzebub's face. "Beel, is everything alright? You look upset."

Beel simply shook his head and looked over to Lucifer. "MC has asked me to tell you that they would like to take a sick day."

Everyone was instantly on their feet in worry.

"Sick? What kind of illness? I can get any medicine they might need and look up the quickest way for them to recover." Satan quickly stated as he began to move towards the kitchen.

Belphie nodded and picked up his pillow. "If they're sick, they'll need rest right? I'll go up there and help them sleep better."

Mammon moved to go with Belphie. "I'll come with ya. They'll feel better with if their favourite's there with them."

Belphie growled and shoved Mammon as Levi spoke up. "I-I mean, I doubt they'd want to spend the entire day with me, but at the very least I can provide them with some movies and games for entertainment. In fact, it might be easier if we just, um, m-move them to my room."

Mammon and Belphie were now snapping at Levi rather than each other.

Asmo scrunched up his nose in disgust and put up his hands. "Yeah, no thanks. I love MC, but I'll leave you guys to handle all the snot and vomit thank you very much. Tell them when they're healthy, I'll give them a spa day, just the two of us."

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boys, Beel hadn't even told us what is wrong with them yet," everyone froze and turned to Beelzebub. Lucifer nodded and gestured for him to continue. "As you were saying, Beel."

Beel shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "Right. So, I don't think they're actually sick."

Lucifer rose an eyebrow at this as an air of defence grew around him. "You think they would lie?"

Beel huffed in annoyance and shook his head. "No. I don't think they would. But when they answered the door, they didn't look sick. They looked like they were grieving," everyone breathed in sharply at the statement, but Beel continued. "They honestly looked like they had been crying since midnight. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't get any sleep at all last night."

Lucifer frowned and finally made a move towards the door. "I, and I alone, will go speak with them. We don't want to overcrowd them. In the meantime, someone please contact Simeon just in case they truly are sick and Beel misinterpreted it," he ignored the several shouts of protest as he walked to your room.

He knocked softly on the door twice before carefully opening the door. "MC? Beelzebub informed me that you aren't feeling-"

Lucifer cut himself off as he saw you hugging your knees to your chest in bed, sobbing your heart out. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside you, gently placing a hand on your back. "MC, what's the matter? I've never seen you this upset before."

You didn't answer. You merely turned towards him and buried your face in his chest as you clung to his shirt. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

It was almost as if he could feel your sorrow within the sounds of your cries. The way they shuttered and cracked with every inhale and vibrated with pure agony on every exhale. You were trembling violently in his arms in a way that he hadn't felt since-

Since he held his brothers after Lilith's death.

Realization came to him as he glanced over and noticed the lightly crumped picture of you and another human on your side table. His breath caught in his throat and he held you tighter. "Oh MC," he whispered softly. "I am so sorry."

He held you there, letting your tears stain his shirt without a single care. He held you as your sobs softened into sniffles. He held you as your head lolled to the side and you finally gave in to sleep.

Lucifer had been about to fall asleep himself when he noticed the door open. Simeon, Luke and Solomon stood there with equal expressions of concern.

Luke took one look at your tear-stained face before a flicker of fury and angelic protectiveness flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to shout at Lucifer, but was stopped as a hand came over his mouth.

Solomon looked down at him sternly. "They're sleeping, Luke, and clearly in need of it. You don't want to wake them."

Luke huffed and slapped Solomon's hand away before going over to the bed and climbing in beside you and Lucifer.

Simeon pulled out a bag that clinked and clattered from the vials within it. "Satan had said that there was a possibility MC was ill?"

Lucifer sighed and continued to rub circles into your back while Luke gently dried your face with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately it seems the only illness they have is a broken heart." He nodded to the picture on the nightstand. "They appear to have lost someone. Today must be an anniversary of some sort that reminded them of it."

Both Solomon and Simeon's faces softened at the explanation. Simeon put the bag away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that can help with that."

Solomon nodded. "It's a feeling I believe we are all familiar with," he stood in silent thought before snapping his fingers and grinning. "I know what will cheer them up! Some soup! It most certainly cheers me up whenever I'm upset. I'll go make them a pot right away," he smiled proudly as he left the room, missing the look of horror on everyone else's face.

"Oh my," Simeon began, "I better go supervise and make sure he doesn't accidentally poison them. Luke, do you wish to come?"

He shook his head and hugged you. "I'm not leaving them."

Simeon smiled fondly and glanced up to Lucifer who shrugged. "So long as he doesn't mind being the presence of a demon, I suppose he can stay."

Luke grumbled and continued looking at your hand as he held his up to it and compared sizes. "If they were able to fall asleep around you and you were able to comfort them...maybe you're not so bad."

Simeon raised an eyebrow in shock and laughed a little. "Well there you have it," he looked back to Lucifer. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

He nodded and watched the older angel leave.

@thegrimgrinningghost

Although the day was a rough one for you, there was not a second where you felt alone. There was always someone to hold you, to listen to you, and comfort you when you needed it most.

On days when sadness and despair threatened to cloud over the Devildom's only source of sunshine, the lords of the Devildom and your friends would be there to keep you warm until the sun could shine again.

***I hope you enjoyed this cute little comfort fic! Thanks again for the request @lovevictoire!***

TAGLIST

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

[godlygreta]

Hi friend, I love your writing!

I’m really struggling lately, my Brother died last year and his one year anniversary of his death is coming up, could you write a fluffy fic on how Josh would possibly handle their significant other grieving a sibling? I just need some fluff right now. Life is really throwing hands…lol

Thank you so much friend

hi, angel ! i'm so sorry to hear about your brother. i really hope this helps with your process. please remember to be patient with yourself and feel all the things you need to. take care of yourself and make sure your needs are met. we love and support everyone on this blog. do not hesitate to reach out if you need someone (this goes for everyone, not just this sweet anon). we take care of each other, that's what this peaceful army does.

title | blueberry pancakes

summary | based off of this ask, josh comforts the reader in her time of need.

warnings | mentions of death, nudity, not taking care of ones self.

word count | 1.5k

November had never been nice to you. As the years passed, November always had something wicked up its sleeve. One year, your family dog passed away. A heart condition snuck up behind your beloved chocolate lab, quiet and nimble. A few years passed and death greeted you like an old friend, your grandfather finally succumbing to old age. Another year and it forced your best friend to move states, almost halfway across the country.

The latest trick was almost two years ago now. The sweet kiss of death welcomed your brother, a car accident. It had been late, he was driving back home from a friend’s house after watching a football game and he swerved avoiding the deer that inevitably jumped in front of him, his car wrapping around a tree. Your parents had been thankful that the flu kept you home, but almost every day since then you silently wished you would’ve been with him. Your heart became vacant, emotions dulled so much to the point where you felt nothing.

When you met Josh, he was like a breath of fresh air, the sun had finally stepped out from behind the clouds. You had found solace and comfort within the four walls of his apartment and his two arms. You never told him about your brother. You kept that locked behind the heavily protected walls of your heart. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust him. You did, with your entire heart. You just wanted to be Y/N, not the girl who was still grieving her brother.

He figured something was wrong when you hadn’t answered his texts in two days. He got increasingly more worried when you didn’t answer for four. On the fifth day, he let himself into your apartment with the key you gave him six months into dating. He knocked on your bedroom door, walking in to find you laying in your bed, facing the window. “Y/N?”

He waved to your side, sitting in an open spot on the bed next to where you were laying. Your cheeks were damp, as was your pillow. You didn’t mean for it to get this bad this time. You knew that things would get better eventually, you had to let yourself feel the things you were feeling. You had to be patient with yourself. Your eyes flickered up to Josh, wanting to pull the covers over your head, but you had no strength.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? How long have you been in bed like this?”

“What day is it?” You ask weakly, letting him pull back your comforter.

���It’s Friday, it’s the weekend, love.” It was Friday already? “How long have you been here?”

“Since Monday.” Your voice was hoarse, you were embarrassed for him to see you like this. It had never gotten this bad before. Anytime you even started to miss your brother, you found a way to excuse yourself for a few minutes and cry. You’d collect yourself and go right back to hanging out with Josh, doing whatever it is the two of you were in the middle of doing.

“Can you tell me why? I want to help you.” He helped you sit up, putting your back flesh against the headboard. You swallowed thickly, a lump forming in your throat so easy. You had finally stopped crying about an hour before Josh came in. Now here you were, starting to cry again.

“Two years ago on Sunday, my brother died in a car accident.” That was all you had to say. Josh pulled you against his chest, letting you sob into his sweatshirt. You clutched tightly onto the fabric of his sweatshirt, your head beginning to throb. Josh’s arms wrapped around you so tightly, you almost let him crush you.

“Just let it out, love. When you calm down enough, I’m gonna make you some tea and run you a bath, okay?” You nodded against him, letting him run his fingers through your hair. You wanted to swat his hands away, knowing the state of your hair. When you had calmed down enough, Josh led you through your apartment, helping you sit on the toilet seat while he ran the water. He made sure it was warm enough to keep you warm while he went to make you tea.

He helped you undress, taking his time with every article of clothing that came off. You wanted to cover yourself up, having not been naked in front of him yet. He kissed the tops of both of your hands, whispering to you. “You will never understand how beautiful I think you are. You are so amazing, so strong, okay? I will always be here to take care of you, mama. Til the end of time.”

Your lip quivered when his lips touched your forehead. You used his hands to steady yourself, getting ready to get into the bath. As soon as you were comfortably sitting in the bath, knees drawn to your chest, Josh left to go boil some water. He already knew what kind of tea was your favorite, the many bags of jasmine tea littered your cabinets. He pulled the honey out of the fridge, hearing the water begin to hiss.

He set the cup on the edge of the bathtub, “It’s really hot, so give it a second. Can I run some water through your hair – wash it for you?”

“Please.” You let him use an empty cup he got from the kitchen that he had brought with your tea. The water was warm as it soaked into your hair, falling down your back. You kept your eyes closed as Josh made sure that your entire scalp was saturated. He helped you take a sip of your tea, humming in appreciation at the way it felt going down your throat.

“Gonna shampoo it now, mama.” The way Josh’s fingers felt against your scalp was heavenly. His fingers worked to make sure that every inch of your scalp was clean, even if that meant shampooing your hair twice. He used one hand to block the water from running into your face, the soap falling down your back instead of into your eyes. When he had stopped, grabbing some of your conditioner into his hands, you looked over at him.

He gave you a smile, kissing the tip of your nose before running the conditioner through your ends. You chewed on your lip. Everything he had done today was more than you were ever expecting. In your heart, you knew Josh didn’t look at you differently. He saw you as the same Y/N you were when the two of you had met last December. All of the emotions you were feeling – half of them due to the anniversary of your brother’s passing, half being thanks to Josh’s sweetness. You let words slip you barely used, “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama. So very much.” His eyes teared up, knowing how much you truly meant it. Although you had said it to him before, this time was more important. The love and appreciation you had for him dripped with every word. “Let’s finish cleaning you up and I’ll put new sheets on your bed. Then head back to bed alright?”

“Okay.” You let Josh run a soapy washcloth over your body, his hands gentle. Not gentle in the sense that you were going to break if he pressed even a hair harder than he currently was, but gentle in the way that he wanted you to feel how much he loved you. And you did. He kissed your cheek every chance he could, occasionally kissing the skin of your shoulder.

He left you to your own devices in the bathtub as he switched your sheets over, not bothering to make the bed before coming to get you. He grabbed a towel, tucking it underneath his armpit as he helped you out of the bath. He wrapped it around you, giving you another bone crushing hug. You walked with your hands gripping the edges of the towel, making Josh carry your tea to the bedroom with you two.

“I’ll pick out some shorts for you to wear. You can have my sweatshirt.” He pulled out a pair of underwear for you, including some of the pajama shorts that were in the middle drawer of your dresser. He helped you step into them, pulling them up until they were snug against your waist. He removed his sweatshirt, exposing the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath it. He looked to you after fully removing it, “Arms up.”

The sweatshirt was just as warm as Josh was. You pulled it closer to your body, looking up at Josh and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this all means to me.”

“Of course, Y/N. You don’t need to thank me. Tomorrow morning I’m gonna make you the biggest breakfast. What kind of breakfast foods did your brother like? Was he a pancake kind of guy?” He asked, getting the two of you settled underneath the covers. He pulled up Netflix, looking for something for the two of you to eventually fall asleep to.

“Blueberry pancakes were his favorite.”

“Blueberry pancakes it is.”

[violentfeminisim]

Uhh so I saw you wanted prompts and I usually never request anything but I'd love to see a eddie munson x fem!reader with a TON of angst but for the reader. Like no character death or stuff like that angst, but more like eddie cheated on the reader and it's the reader going through the emotions of that. Idk if that made sense and you literally don't have to write this but just thought I'd give you a prompt!!

Yes, i live for angst i hope i do this justice

~~

“So tell me when you hear my heart stop You're the only one that knows”

Have you ever seen a Daisy completely froze preserved in ice? Now imagine if someone came along and smashed the daisy into a million pieces with no regard for the daisy at all, Well that daisy was me, and that someone was Eddie Munson. I thought we were in love, i was a fool to believe that even for a second i was enough for him. 

I stayed in my room for day’s my heart numb unable to cry, just trying to process how this happened, I was going to surprise Eddie by coming over for a sleepover at his house to celebrate our 1 year anniversary, but when i got there, some preppy cheerleader was in his room on top of him naked. My mom tried to talk to me and so did Robyn, and Nancy and all my friends but i wouldn't move. I didn’t know what to do, Eddie called, and called, and called but i just let it ring.  Someone stayed over every night of the week, they took turns it’s like they thought if they didn’t watch me I'd die of sadness. 

Robyn stayed Mondays, Steve on Tuesday's and Wednesday's, and Dustin slept in my room with me every other night, he was worried about me. “Y/n can you please get out of bed?” Dustin asked holding my hands as his eyes watered “Your scaring me” he said quietly. Hearing Dustin worry about me that way felt like i was braking again “Dusty?” my soar voice whispered from not talking for two weeks “Y/n?” he said wiping a tear from his cheek “I just miss him so much” i croaked as tears started to fall down my face, Dustin threw his smaller arms around me tightly “It’s okay” he whispered holding me like i was going to fade away “I just want him back dusty”.

Slowly but surely the sadness i felt faded away, as my pieces slowly started to put themselves back together, all i was left with was anger and disappointment and Eddie, he never stopped calling. I sat on the floor of my bedroom with my brother as he painted my nails for me “He doesn't know what he’s losing y’know” Dustin told me as he finished his finale layer it made me ache to my core knowing that i had put a rift between Dustin and his role model, and i hated it. 

I was angry “Your phone’s ringing Y/n” Dustin told me shaking me from my thoughts, I walked up to the phone attached to my wall as it rung, I slowly touched the handle of the phone knowing who was waiting on the other side, i grabbed the phone that hung on the wall and through it out my bedroom window “Shit!” Dustin shouted standing up from his spot on the floor, “I hate you!” i shouted out the window, at no one exactly “I hate you, i hate you Eddie Munson I hate you!” i yelled “Fuck you”.

“By blood and by me And I fall when you leave”

I was sitting on my couch with Steve watching some stupid movie form his work when my doorbell rang “I’ll get it” I told him standing up my- Eddie's dio shirt clinging to me, when i swung the door open there he stood, 5 foot 10 inches of pure heartbreak, “Y/n’ he sighed “please talk to me, I'm sorry i didn’t mean it” he said “Eddie i don’t think you should be here” Steve said walking up putting a hand on the door “Harington I'm trying to apologize to my girlfriend” he said “ex girlfriend” i told him “Fuck you Munson” i said as i slammed the door in his face. Eddie Munson has broken me but i would put myself back together all by myself, i didn’t need him. I would survive

“ So tell me when my sigh's over You're the reason why I'm closed “

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

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

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[nevermore-the-kitsune]

Pokemon Teams for Fictional Characters pt. 2

Damian Wayne

(Also, I'm not including move sets because in my headcannon Pokemon do remember all their old moves. But humans choose to only use four)

For this AU I'm having the Wayne's own the Gotham City Gym, which specializes in Dark types. Most of the cannon events still happened. Just with a few tweaks here and there. (Dick's 20, Jason's 16, Cass is 15 Tim's 15 but younger than Cass and Damian's 13 because I love AUs where there closer in age).

Anyway here we go!

First things first in the Pokemon Universe his alias wouldn't be Robin since they don't exist. Instead I think it would be Rookidee, since thats the closest Pokemon to a Robin.

His Partner Pokemon and ace would be a Gligar

Name: Goliath

Gender: Male

Why: Gligar screams Goliath (his Batdragon) plus the coloring of his evolutions matches with Dami's Robin and Batman outfits

Story: He found Goliath while climbing a mountain for his training. At the time he was four and Goliath was a hatching. Damian ended up giving him some food, seeing that the hatching was hungry.

Grateful, the Gligar followed him hoping to return the favor.

When Damian's hand got broken on that same trip, Goliath was the one to help him finish his mission and get home safely.

Talia was impressed that Damian could tame a wild Pokemon without catching it, so she allowed him to keep him as his first Pokemon.

-----

Next he would have a Meowth

Name: Alfred

Gender: Female

Why: This one has to do with its evolution. Persian are said to only be loyal to trainers it likes and that it takes a lot to get them to like you. Their also said to be prissy and uptight. This reminded me of Damian. How it took forever for him to trust his brothers and his own snobby attitude. Thus I think it fits.

Story: After coming to live with his father Damian didn't know how to act. He saw his "brothers" and father treating their Pokemon so different than how the League did. They all trained hard. But, there was something eles: warm praise for a job well done, asking for insight on a case (they had taught their bipedal pokemon sighn language) and comfort on a bad day. His father and brothers treated their Pokemon like... people

In the League Pokemon where the lowest soldier, lower than the slaves or concubines. They trained, ate then they had to and got in their ball.

He had been a little more lenient in his training with Goliath. When asked he said that he was still a baby and he had to take things slow in this stage or he might develop too much muscle mass and be unable to fly.

He had kept him out of his ball with the excuse of developing muscle mass at a proper pace.

He liked Goliath's company. The Gligar was a good companion. But on the same level as another person?

He had expressed these thoughts to Pennyworth, the only person in the house to give him a straight answer when he needed it.

Pennyworth had explained to him that some people love to hold power over others and that Pokemon where an easy target, since they couldn't communicate their emotions as clearly as people could.

"Think of Mistress Cain. She sometimes cannot communicate with words, but we know that she's intelligent. But some people see her as less than intelligent and treat her as such because of the power it gives them."

Two weeks later Damian would come across a group of teenagers attempting to shave a Meowth. The Pokemon was little more than skin and bone and crying out on pain. So, Damian broke their fingers and shaved part of their heads for good measure.

He kept the Meowth and named her after the man who taught him about the abuse of power.

---

Next, a Poochyena

Name: Titus

Gender: Male

Why: These Pokemon and their evolution are ruthless with their pray, and only obey trainers with external skill.

Story: Raven gave Damian Titus as a gift. She said that she rescued him from an underground fighting ring (where the battles are to the death). He was still to young to battle so he didn't need much rehabilitation. The other Pokemon there though...

---

Now we have a Type Null

Name: Heretic

Gender: ???

Why: This Pokemon was created in lab, and artificial designed for the purpose of fighting, just like Damian. True I could have given him Mewtwo, but that cat seems to fit Kon more.

Story: Damian's mother had spent years creating Type: Null with the purpose of being able to kill any target. As a last test she wanted to see which of her creations was suppirrior. So she sent the Type Null out to (try and) kill her son.

Damian, with the rest of his team, beat the Pokemon but couldn't kill it. He had long since vowed to wash the blood from his hands. Instead he offered his hand to it and asked it to join him.

---

Here we have the hardest to explain... Mimikyu

Name: Habibi (I hope I spelled that right)

Gender: Female

Why: Damian is complex, he wants to be accepted and loved just like Mimikyu but dosent know how. Both try to mimic others in order to get that love, Damian his father and Mimikyu Pikachu. So I see this as Damian's spirit Pokemon in a way.

Story: He didn't know why it was so hard to fit in. Gods know he tried. But... little things confused him. Like how eveyone could understand each other without words or singhing. He had no problems with that on a battlefield, but in day to day life; it felt like he was on a separate server.

Like how Todd knew at breakfast with just a look that Drake was in a bad mood and how to help. Or how Grayson could audomadicly tell what kind of day at school the rest of them had withen a few minutes. Hell even Drake could tell what grunts ment what from father! Which ment good job, Which ment I'm glade your okay, or frustration either at them or at a case (Cass didn't surprise him, she had to learn how to communicate without words and watch body language and micro expressions).

School was no better; sometimes it was to load or bright othertimes, when everyone was doing a test, it felt to quiet. But, to much or to little, Damian was always aware of every movement, every sound. It was like the very instincts that saved his life every night where turned against him.

He turned to his nearly forgotten childhood habits to distract himself from everything around him. That only led to more whisper shouting and what even he could tell where displeased glares with a grunt of "fucking tapping" or a snap of "stop!" He knew it was disrupting but it was all be could do to drown out the noise or silence.

On one particularly bad day at school; apparently during one of their tests one of his classmates had had enough of Damian's tapping and decided to make a scene.

There was some yelling from the kid. A few cries in agreement. Before the teacher had gotten hem to settle down. He had demanded that Damian look him in the eye and when he finally did told him to stop with the tapping or else he would be sent to the office, Gym Leaders son or not.

He was the last to finish that test where he normally finished first. The silence had been to load!!

After that clusterfuck Damian finally headed home. He had texted Grayson saying that he was meeting a friend somewhere to work on a project and to not pick him up. In truth he didn't want his brother reading what kind of day he had had. He needed some time to himself.

That was how he found himself in a nearby park. It was filled with plenty of sounds that didn't suffocate him and the fall leaves where soothing to his eyes. Damian had Titus out of his ball as company, knowing that the pup loved park walks.

They had been walking for an hour when they came across a box set off just on the edge of the trail. "Free to Good Homes" was written on the side in black sharpie.

No sound was coming from inside, so he assumed that the had all been taken. Until Titus went closer sniffing at the seemingly empty box.

"Pooch Pooch"

"Hmmm... what is is it boy?" He asked as he walked closer to his Pokemon and the Box. Damian hoped he was wrong. It was cruel to leave a baby Pokemon all alone, especially since the weather was getting colder by the day.

Inside the box was in fact a lone Pokemon. At first glance it looked like a Pikachu. But something was off. It looked more like a doll than a living creature. If it wasn't for the small chirps it let out and slight way that it was shivering from the cold Damian would have written it off as a toy. No wonder it got left behind...

Damian reached down and picked up the mystery Pokemon as gently as he could.

"Come on beloved, lets go home."

He tucked the Pokemon in his jacket to warm it up before reaching for his phone to call Grayson for a ride home.

That night Damian locked himself away, even skipped patrol, and spent a sleepless night learning everything he could about his newest Pokemon.

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That was inspired by this comic

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Finaly, for his last spot Eevee!!

Name: Omni

Gender: Female

Why: I'm going to have all the Batfam members have an Eeveelution. This branch and the Batfam are both growing consistently. We all have our favorites but we love them all the same. So I think it fits.

Story: Everyone in the family had an Eevee or one of its evolutions. Damian's Father said that Eevee was the Wayne family symbol, it was potential, the ability to become whatever you wanted.

Though it surprised Damian that the Wayne symbol wasn't a Noibat or Noivern (Batman's ace) at first he eventually understood the logic in choosing such a Pokemon to represent the family name. That only made things harder for him being the only one not having one. Did they not truly see him as family?

On the one year anniversary of Damian arriving at The Mannor, his family through a small party. Pennyworth made his favorite foods, The Mannor was decorated in tacky streamers (Graysons' idea) and they watched some of Damian's favorite fims, their Pokemon curled up with them. His father had offered to take the day off from the gym. Until Todd suggested that Damian take on the challengers.

The Gotham gym was part of his heritage. Damian had been training for the day that he could finally help weed out the weak challengers just like his siblings sometimes did (think the battles you do before challenging a gym leader in the games).

On that day, if the challengers agreed to it, their final battle wasn't with Bruce Wayne the Dark Knight but instead his son. Most accepted thinking that it would be an easy win, that they had lucked out in not having to battle one of the stongest Gym Leaders in the League and could still get the Shadow Badge.

Those poor fools.

Damian was only allowed to use Alfred, Titus and Habibi since he used Goliath and Heretic primarily as Rookidee.

Damian fought seven trainers that day in 3v3 fights. Only two of them got the badge.

With the day overwith and the night rising, so did Gothams' protecters.

The night ended with exhausted body's and adrenaline crashes. Damian was ready to slip into a mini coma from the day he had but before he could head upstairs to The Mannor...

"Not so fast baby bat." Graysons' voice called out to him. "We got one more surprise for you."

Damian raised his eyebrow at that. What else could they do? His father came back from the locker rooms where he had been desuiting, it always took him the longest because of his "old man bones" as Todd said.

"Son," his father said "its Wayne tradition to get your first Pokemon when you turn ten years old. I missed that with you." He paused, eyes briefly shifting to the floor before they snapped back on Damian's face. "Luckily there's one tradition we didn't miss. When you've lived at The Mannor for a year or the adoption papers get finalized, I give my children this..."

He pulled a Poke'ball out of his poket and handed to Damian. "Go on son, let them out."

He did

Staring at him was his own Eevee.

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AN: All of Damian's Pokemon (sans maybe Omni, I'm thinking of leaving her as an Eevee) will eventually evolve. Eventually.