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missholland · 1 month

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Farewell, a place once called home!

I was homebound this week for an illness recovery, and thought it was the perfect time to rewatch one of my ultimate comfort shows: The Untamed.

Some people watch stuff once. Some people religiously rewatch their favs because they discover something new each time. I'm certainly part of the latter clan, and I cannot believe I never wrote about Wei Wuxian (WWX)'s post-resurrection return to Lotus Pier before.

The second half of episode 45 throughout episode 46 is quite a journey on its own right: the setting, the aesthetics, the dialogue, the emotional weight as one of the biggest secrets finally came to surface.

A very long rambling analysis ahead so bear with me!

Considering the latter half of episode 45 was mostly consumed with Si Si and Bi Cao exposing Jin Guangyao (JGY)'s dark past, there were only a couple of Lotus Pier moments that worth mentioning.

As WWX and Lan Wangji (LWJ) walked through the entrance of Lotus Pier, I was immediately taken back to what WWX said to LWJ in episode 6 when they were healing their injuries in the Cold Spring. WWX asked LWJ to come visit him in Lotus Pier one day, and I bet the circumstance they eventually found themselves in episode 45 was far from what WWX thought the visit would have been like.

Let's also take another step back to episode 34, where Jiang Cheng (JC) interrogated WWX. WWX admitted that he wanted to go back to Lotus Pier even in his dream, but at the time, he had probably given up all hopes of ever making that come true.

What else is there? His master and madam died, his disciple elder sister Yanli died, he got expelled from his own clan. It was virtually impossible to prepare WWX for the event of episode 45 where he actually got to walk into Lotus Pier again.

Let's now cruise into the main event - episode 46! Fed up with how the big clan meeting went following the revelation of JGY's wrongdoings, WWX and LWJ stepped away from the front room and made their way around Lotus Pier. They were likely just wandering around at the time, as their concentration was totally occupied with finding out who might be the mastermind trying to expose JGY. Then again, it might as well be WWX's muscle memory as they somehow ended up right in front of the ancestral hall.

Despite initial hesitation, WWX eventually decided to come in and paid respect to his Master, Madam and Yanli along with LWJ. It's not the first time we saw this incredibly tranquil and beautiful room. It really was WWX's most frequently visited room, whether it was being punished by Madam Yu (story apparently travelled all the way to Gusu) or having heartfelt conversation with Yanli. WWX telling LWJ his childhood stories inside the ancestral hall was probably the most mundane sequence during this whole ordeal, and a small moment of normality for WWX before our resident killjoy JC walked in.

Yes JC, we know it's your house but surely yelling in the middle of the ancestral hall whether your family was resting in peace isn't a very good idea? Our WWX certainly didn't expect any less from all the unpleasantness coming out of JC's mouth, as since forever he only let his anger do the speaking and not the common sense. LWJ was ready to have a showdown, but WWX calmly told him to stand down and let it go.

But did JC let it go too? Of course not. He was irritated by WWX's calmness and tried to spill some more frustration to get the other to react. He clearly picked the right route to go down on by picking on LWJ and Wen Ning (WN). Worse, he proceeded to single out LWJ and insulted his commitment to WWX.

That prompted WWX to yell out JC's courtesy name Jiang Wanyin, a name we didn't hear very often throughout the show but in this instance it was most memorable, especially coming from WWX. That itself drew a clear boundary in their relationship at that moment, from brothers to mere acquaintances in the cultivation world.

WWX wasn't afraid to ask a proud JC to apologise, but all JC was gonna do is pushing the button even more. He took a very personal swipe at their confidant/soulmate-ship that led WWX to, quite uncharacteristically, violently held JC's collar.

Our dearest is giving JC what he wants! Although to be perfect honest, I thought it was quite hilarious that JC for whatever reason was confident he could take on both of them. WWX possibly since he wasn't at his finest during that moment, but prime LWJ though...?

Thankfully, WWX looked up and saw Yanli's name. He knew very well it would break Yanli's heart seeing the two of them like this. He's gotta be the bigger person (and fair enough, he's already knackered from being the lure flag for the puppets). As our beloved couple once again tried to leave in peace, JC decided to make it as hard as possible for them. Here he is, triggering LWJ's angry lover protector mode.

I love the swift but determined arm push LWJ did to JC a second after this to get him off WWX, then right away his expression transitioned back into anxious lover worrier mode. LWJ didn't even give JC a second look. He promptly escorted WWX away but was still super alerted to give JC a good old Piss Off for STILL ONCE AGAIN not letting it go.

Let's take a moment to admire this bittersweet yet romantically charged frame before getting the tearfest started.

Now, our sweet baby WN just flew in with WWX's Suibian sword, got a couple of hits from JC's Zidian but was still determined to stand tall and asked JC to unseathe Suibian. JC was angry and confused, LWJ was probably also angry and confused, WWX has fainted, so now WN is the only sane one and the voice of reason. His cold lack of reaction (because he wasn't surprised at all) placing next to a shocked pikachu LWJ and confusingly mortified JC was the perfect comparison.

LWJ's face tells me that as soon as he saw JC taking out Suibian, he was already somewhat fearing the reason behind it. He hasn't quite reached the destination yet, but he was on the way. After all, he's one of the most intelligent and knowledgeable characters in the story thanks to his sect's education. His eyes made it look like he was holding on a tiny glimpse of hope that maybe it's not true, maybe it's not the worst case scenario, but it was certainly mixed with fear that it might be.

It's very different from JC who's just completely out of the loop, no hint of any possibility that he might be able to work out what happened. If WN wasn't there to SPELL IT OUT, JC would just remain angry and confused for the rest of the episode.

As JC is still in deep denial, and WN precisely recounted the event on the mountain in great details where JC was tricked to go find Baoshan Wanderer who could fix his core, LWJ only had eyes on WWX. His ears were listening to everything WN said too, but his focus was on WWX while he did his own reflection on how he reacted to WWX abandoning swordsmanship in the past (the same way JC did).

All the burning questions LWJ had inside his head - why WWX no longer carried Suibian, why he made all these excuses to not get back into practicing swords, why he took on crafty tricks, why he had a change in personality and demeanour, why he behaved so strangely after getting Suibian back - they are finally answered. But in the most unimaginably painful and heartbreaking way. LWJ's trembling face and tears scream PAIN, the pain you feel when you know someone you love is in pain, but you are also aware that whatever you feel is only 1/10000 of their actual suffering.

Pain and anger come together time to time, and LWJ has heard enough. He just wanted to get WWX out of here, out of this hell of a truth. He made his feeling known by stamping Bichen loudly on the ground and took WWX away, once and all.

Our baby WN really shined here. He wrapped up this dreadful revelation by daring JC to find anyone who can unsheathe Suibian, but not before hitting him with possibly the last thing any human being as competitive and eager to win like JC wanted to hear - did you know you were supposed to beneath your disciple older brother forever?

WN kept his head down and let out a sigh. He knew he shouldn't have done it since he promised WWX, but that was as much as he knew he had to do so. His guilt toward WWX was starting to hit him, but it was also obvious that a huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders.

We're now getting to the end of WWX's unexpectedly eventful return to Lotus Pier. Without JC's unreasonable pot-stirring screaming, we're finally given a lovely shot of Lotus lake at night with LWJ ensuring WWX's body not leaving his caring touch. I don't think we've had a proper conversation between LWJ and WN up to this point, and what makes it so special is that it's a genuine exchange between the only 2 people left who deeply care about WWX - a lonely anti-hero who's been walking alone on his deeply misunderstood journey for so long that it lasted through 2 lives.

Sweet WN also thanked LWJ for taking care of A Yuan and we got to learn about how LWJ managed to save A Yuan back then. It was sad but heartwarming knowing that WN was content with not disclosing A Yuan's past to him, as he's had a happy childhood and blessed life thanks to LWJ. Although, he acknowledges that eventually A Yuan would find out, just like JC did about his golden core.

Now as the conversation circled back to the golden core swap, LWJ asked WN a question that truly, you only ask when it's about someone you love. 'Is it painful?'. Not 'How did Wen Qing do it', but was it painful for WWX. What was the feeling he had, what was the pain he suffered, what was it like. It's not a sympathy question. It's something you want to know and empathise when your loved one goes through hard time. It's such a deeply specific and personal question, because when the person you love is in pain, you are too. You even want to feel it too, and LWJ is no stranger to that if we recall him leaving the same burn mark on his left chest as WWX had. Shame that this detail was never explained in the show.

As WN described:

'He should be sober enough to see the golden score which connects to the spiritual vein be separated from his body and feel the spiritual power die down little by little, until it is motionless and nothing can be felt'.

You can feel LWJ's pain peak as he was told WWX remained awake for 2 nights and 1 day with only 50% chance of success. As someone who deep down admires his soulmate's talent from a young age, what could be worse than having to hear that his other half had accepted to be mediocre for the rest of his life and never ascend to the top as he could have easily done?

Poor WWX regained conscious and realised where he was. Unsurprisingly, all of his Lotus Pier memories were tied with Yanli and he's overwhelmed by the image of her and flashback of their time together. What is home to WWX, the one who was trying his hardest to grow lotus somewhere as deadly as Burial Mounds? JC was his family, but not anymore. Yanli is no longer around, but till her death, she remained his family. She might have had married into Jin clan, but she embodied everything about Lotus Pier. Yanli is home. Yanli is Lotus Pier.

Seeing Yanli die at Nightless City was saying goodbye to the last person on earth who cared about WWX (or so he forgot about LWJ), which pushed him to giving up on his own life. So is Lotus Pier still home without Yanli? Is there even home without Yanli? WWX was barely treated like a proper guest at Lotus Pier. He was just someone who knew the way around, as home no longer hold the same meaning as it once did.

Lovely WWX was finally jolly again at the possibility of snacking on some tasty lotus seeds he must have missed dearly. Yet his little happiness was seemingly switched off by the rigid rule follower LWJ. If anything I was surprised that WWX agreed to give up the lotus seeds that quickly, of course not without sulking in disappointment.

But all of this only make the following moment even more glorious and poignant: the high and mighty LWJ who grew up obeying 3000 rules at Gusu Lan Sect literally picked a lotus with his own hand and give it to his soulmate, much to his shock and confusion.

At first I thought Well that's the least LWJ could do, has WWX not suffered enough, would a few (hundreds) lotus seeds matter that much. He's been in pain, he needs to be coddled and spoiled till the end of the world! So LWJ willing to break one tiny rule (tiny, comparing to all the others he broke because of WWX already) is a well deserved comfort that WWX needs.

But then it also hit me - it is an example of making compromise in a healthy relationship. WWX used to hold on to his wine and was willing to put up a fight for it, most of the time against LWJ himself. So why was it so easy to him to just have an awkward chuckle and drop the lotus seeds as LWJ didn't want to break a rule?

WWX compromised, as you would in a partnership. You don't have it your way all the time, you work together toward the same goal and there are times you're willing to put your partner's values above your own benefit. WWX, despite not fully happy about the decision, still agreed to give us the lotus as LWJ was uncomfortable. And in return, LWJ was okay with putting WWX's needs above his ingrained principle about 'stealing'. At the end of the day, it's not about winning or losing in a relationship. You win together and you lose together.

We really are spoiled with lotus romance in this episode!

But maybe... just maybe... LWJ doesn't know whether WWX would ever get a chance to return to Lotus Pier. Should this be the last ever opportunity, he would probably rather WWX's final memory of the visit not being JC's anger and resentment. In return, it is a rare carefree moment on Lotus lake, one his WWX's favourite places, eating lotus seeds with the only 2 people who still care so much about him and willing to go to the end of the world for him.

If this is meant to be a farewell to a place WWX once called home, while LWJ couldn't change the unfortunate circumstance that led to this challenging visit, he at least has done his best to give it a drama-free peaceful ending for the person he loves dearly.

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her-power · 4 months

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The End of All Things (Part Four: e.m. x fem reader)

TRIGGER WARNING & C/W: 18++++ MDNI!!! Sweet! Eddie, hurt/comfort, grief, talk of grief, fluff, heavy drug use, suicidal thoughts, talk of death/dying, lots of crying, lots of swearing, some smut, unprotected p+v, trauma

Part One: Denial Part Two: Anger Part Three: Bargaining

Summary: Relationships are tested, choices are made, words hurt, and you might end up kicking Eddie Munson's ass. Full plot summary is on part one of this series.

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: I also submitted an original sketch in this part. It's been years since I have drawn something so it's not great and I fucking forgot how hard it is to draw hands and draw a person lmao but I wanted to give you guys a little added bonus to this series.

A/N #2: This part was a bit rough for me to write, but also super healing in a way. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of all of my friends as I was writing this and just remembering things after so many years since losing my mom. Part Five will be released after the holidays, I need a bit of a break to be with my family and be prepared for the griefy feels. I love you all, thank you for giving me a platform to be creative and to heal. <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eddie was pacing in the break room of the record store; inhaling deeply on his cigarette as he tried to gather his thoughts. The trip back home was uneventful, you had stayed at the Inn in Philadelphia for a night again. He had noticed a change in you after the cemetery. It was subtle changes; you would be unusually quiet, but then you would snap out of it and that big, beautiful smile he loved so much would appear. You were tired a lot; Eddie had noticed the bags under your eyes as the weeks went by. He knew you weren’t sleeping. Even when he would stay in the same bed as you, he knew you only pretended to be asleep. When you thought he was asleep, he would hear you rummage around in the kitchen, or go sit out on the porch, smoking a joint.

Then it hit the two-month mark, and you were starting to terrify him. Summer was almost over, you had lost interest in things you loved to do, like painting, singing, reading. You would go to work, come home, stay awake, sleep, and then go to work again.

Eddie would try to get you to talk to him, but you would shut down, blocking out anything and everything around you.

He plops on the chair, his leg bobbing nervously, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He stood up and started pacing again, he couldn’t sit.

Eddie had called the realtor two weeks ago; she had a kind voice and gave him useful information and advice when it came to potentially buying a house. He was also curious why there weren’t any hits on the house, it had been on the market for a while and parts of it had been redone but no one was interested in buying it. She told him it was a mystery to her as well, there was nothing aesthetically wrong with the house, the foundation was perfect, the roof was brand new, but no one seemed to care for it. The owners had lowered their price five thousand dollars under the asking price, and there was still no jump.

He had been saving money here and there for a couple years; he would call it his emergency fund. But when he had saw how you looked at your childhood home, how your eyes lit up with nostalgia and joy, he knew what he had to do.

He was doing everything in his power to get enough money for the down payment on the house; he had mentioned the plan to your father. Eddie had thought he would think he was crazy, that neither one of you could afford to live in a house, let alone a mortgage. Instead, he asked Eddie how much he needed. Eddie didn’t want anything, he told him, just support. Your father then said something to him that he will never forget.

“I have two loves in my life: my wife, and my daughter. Some people aren’t lucky enough to have that happen to them. Some dad’s leave, some do stupid shit and some die. I love my daughter with all my heart, but I don’t want her to feel stuck here. I don’t want her to worry about me or worry about what my future holds. I don’t want her to stop her life because her mother died. I’m gonna be okay. I’m going through it, and I’m always going to, but I’m okay. I’m practically an old man, I lived my life, and it was beautiful. It’s still beautiful, but I’m not gonna fully rest until I know that my daughter will be okay. And if she stays here, she won’t be.” He swallows, taking off his glasses to clean the lenses. “Now, I’m asking you how much you need not as a charity. But as a man, looking at a kid I watched grow up to become a man and fall in love with my daughter, who has been by her side through all of this. Wiped her tears, fed her, laugh with her. My daughter loved that house, and the fact that you didn’t even hesitate to call the realtor speaks volumes just what kind of man you are. You want to see her happy, and you are a big part of her happiness. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to love my daughter. I know her mother would agree. So, you’re gonna tell me a number, and I’m gonna do my best to give it to you. Don’t fight me on this.”

Eddie had almost sobbed right there; it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to him. He told him a number, and your father said to give him two weeks. Part of him still didn’t want to take it, but he knew if he didn’t, your father would give the whole thing to the realtor.

He had lit up another cigarette and blew his bangs out of his face. He had called you a few hours ago; you had the day off and planned on taking a nap. Eddie had told you he had found this certain type of acrylic paint you had needed and asked if he wanted to pick it up for you. You had thanked him but said no, and the rest of the phone call was uncomfortable silence.

“Munson!” Sully’s booming voice comes echoing into the break room.

Eddie sighs. “What?”

Sully peeks his head in, his large frame would intimidate most people, especially since he had an enormous throat tattoo, but Sully was a big teddy bear. He was a businessman second, and a father to two beautiful little girls first. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He inhales on his cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray.

“Any word from her?” Sully was asking about you, and Eddie had told him he spoke to you a while ago. “How’s the money saving going?”

Eddie had told Sully about his plans, and he was more than onboard with it. He said he was close to the owner of the record store on Newbury St in Boston, that he had put in a good word for him, and the owner was more than happy to welcome him into the store when he was ready. The record store in Boston was two floors, both floors had rows of records, and the bottom floor had a little sound stage where locals would perform for a monthly open mic night.

Eddie had gone back on the floor with a tote of jazz vinyls, he sat in the aisle and organized the records by artist. Robin had come to visit, had sat on the floor with him, passing him each artist he asked for.

“I’m worried about her.” Robin says suddenly, looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie glances at her and goes back to moving around the vinyls, swallowing hard.

“Me too.” Eddie says softly.

“Has she said anything? When I saw her at the Hideout last week, she looked like a walking zombie for Pete’s sake.” Robin looks up at him, he shook his head, staring at his hands, the skull ring on his middle finger. He fingers it gently. “Are you alright, man?”

“Not really.” He laughs tiredly and looks at her. “She won’t talk to me about how she’s feeling. She’ll talk to me about everything else but that.”

“What happened at the cemetery?” She asked gently.

Eddie shakes his head, running his hands over his face. “A breaking point, I think.”

“Jesus.” She mutters. “What do we do? Intervention? Get a priest? I don’t know how this shit works; I’ve never had someone close to me die before. Is there a rule book? Do we just not say anything and let her be stubborn and just slowly disappear until she’s whittled down to nothing, and we just glue her back together and tell her we love her but what if at that point it’s too late and we can’t—"

Eddie kneels in front of Robin, gently holding her face. “Hey, breathe, dude. Deep breaths.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to her.” Robin tells him quietly, her eyes filling with tears as she looks at her friend. “Why did this have to happen?”

Eddie caresses her head, gently patting her and pulls her in for a hug. “I don’t know.” He mutters. He was so tired of saying it, tired of saying he didn’t know, because it sounded so fucking simple, but it wasn’t.

“Why doesn’t she want to talk to us? We’re her friends, she shouldn’t have to suffer alone.” Robin looks up at him and he sighs, gently knocking her chin.

“I’m going over there after work. I don’t care if she hates me, I need to at least get an idea of what’s going on.” He leans back against the shelves, leaning his arms on his bent knees and Robin wipes her face.

“How are you holding up?” Eddie looks at her. “With all of this? Losing her too?”

Eddie gives her a sad smile. “Would you believe if I told you I was fine?”

“No.” She smirks at him.

“It’s a surreal feeling honestly.” He realizes he hasn’t spoken about this with anyone, even you. “The only time I ever experienced some sort of loss was when my dad went to prison, but fuck him, he can rot there for all I care. But he’s still alive, she’s not. I’m still trying to process how someone can be here one minute, living, breathing, and then just be…dead.” He shrugs, realizing he’s crying and quickly wipes his tears away, he almost laughs. “See? I don’t even notice I’m crying, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Robin says, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “You’re going through it too.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I shouldn’t.” He sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t my mother.”

Robin gives him a sweet smile. “No, but she was the next best thing to you.”

He sighs, shaking his head, another tear falls down his cheek. “There’s just so much pain in her. I can feel it.”

He points to his heart, “I see how much pain she’s in and I want to take all of it, so she doesn’t have to, I’d rather suffer with it for the rest of my life, then watch someone like her go through that when she didn’t deserve it. Her mother didn’t deserve to die. I guess no one does, even the shitty ones.”

“Nah, the shitty ones deserve it.” Robin laughs and Eddie chuckles. “You really love her, huh?”

Eddie nods and he sighs, looking into her eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

Eddie tells her his entire plan, about the house, about your father helping him with some of the down payment. He told her about going to see your childhood home, how it’s been on the market since June, and no one is interested. He told her that if his plan works, he’s gonna ask you to marry him the first night you sleep in the house, and that was the first time he has said it out loud. Robin cried happy tears, followed by punching him in the arm.

“You guys are leaving me!”

“Ow!” Eddie laughs, rubbing his arm. “It’s not even set in stone yet.”

“Dude, you know it’s gonna be!” Robin smiles, pulling him in for a hug. “I’m happy for you, but I’m gonna fucking miss you, man.”

Eddie kisses the top of her head, rubbing her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

“Steve is gonna be devastated.”

“Nah he’ll be fine.” Eddie jokes. “Yeah, I know. His little boy is growing up.”

“That sounds so gross when you say it like that.”

***

Eddie had driven to your house after closing the store; your car was still in the driveway and the outside lights were on. Your father had gone to Jimmy’s for the weekend, and he had called Eddie at the store to make sure he planned on going over there. Your father didn’t say it, but he was worried about you too.

Eddie walks into the house, hearing the television playing in the living room. He peeks his head into the living and sees your form curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket over you with your hood over your head. It was freezing in the house, Eddie had saw you set the air conditioner to 60 degrees. The only source of light was from the television, it was nick at nite and I Love Lucy was playing. Eddie notices the three empty beer bottles on the coffee table, a half smoked joint, and a bottle of aspirin. He quietly clears the table, dumping out the remaining beer from the bottles in the sink and tossing them in the recycling. He washes his hands and heads back to the living room; he squats on the side of the couch where you were laying, leaning forward to kiss your cheeks softly and caress your head. You stir, opening your eyes, meeting Eddie’s and you smile softly.

“Hey baby.” Eddie says sweetly to you, rubbing your cheek.

“Hey.” Your voice is groggy, and you sit up a little, stretching. “What time is it?” You pull your hood down, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“A little after ten. Go back to sleep, I just wanted you to know I was here.” He kisses the top of your hand, and you lean into him to kiss his lips.

“No, it’s okay, I feel like I haven’t seen you.” You lay back on the couch pillow, reaching out your hand to cup his cheek. Eddie put his hand over yours, and scans your face, he hated how tired you looked. Your hair was in a messy braid over your shoulder, you looked like you had been crying for hours before he got there.

And your eyes.

Eddie inhales a shaky breath as he looks in your eyes and sees that the light that was once there, was gone. You notice his staring.

“What?” You ask with a smile.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, getting up and sitting next to you, lifting your legs to drape them over his lap. “I just missed you today.”

You smile, reaching over to entwine your fingers. Eddie leans his head back on the couch, gently rubbing massaging circles around your thighs as you both stare at the television.

Eddie feels you shudder under his touch, so he stops.

Apparently, you didn’t want him to stop, because the next thing that happens is you straddling him, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. He holds your waist tightly and groans when you grind yourself against his jeans. You pull off your hoodie, wearing only a lace bra and you deepen the kiss again.

Talk to her, idiot! Eddie is saying to himself, and he moans in response when your teeth graze his throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s avoiding, she knows how she looks, stop kissing her and talk to her!

Eddie’s conscious screams at him but he continues to kiss you, continues to touch your skin. His skin prickles with goosebumps when your hand touches his stomach above his jeans. Your hand slides down into his pants, grasping his hard length in your hand and Eddie moans loudly.

You’re a stupid fuck! Snap out of it, dummy!

“Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie finally says breathlessly against your lips. “Stop, stop.”

You pull away from him, removing your hand as if it burned. You stare at him with confusion and concern that you may have hurt him. Eddie runs his hands over his face, leaning forward on his knees. “We need to talk.”

“Don’t like that.” You say softly, laughing a little, your heart was racing.

“No, it’s not that kind of talk.” Eddie gives you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over your skin. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You pause, staring at his face. “What? What do you mean?”

Eddie looks at you, really looks at you. “You know what I mean.”

You pull your hand away from his and he sighs, he can already feel you pulling away, he can see it in your eyes too. “Eddie, I’m fine.”

Frustration rose in his chest, and he wants to laugh but he doesn’t, he scoffs instead. “Is that a lie you’re telling me or telling yourself? Do you really think you’re fine?”

She blinks, her eyes already widening with tears. “I’m not lying, Eddie.”

“When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you did something you actually enjoyed? Because for two months, you have been disappearing in front of my eyes.” His own tears were filling his eyes, and he blinks them away. “You need to talk to me.”

“And say what? What do you want me to say, Eddie?” You raise your voice.

“Fucking anything!” He gets up from the couch and paces. You watch him with sad eyes. “Jesus Christ; I know you’re hurting; I know you’re in pain, I can clearly see that but all I’m asking is for you to talk to me. I told you I’m here for you, but instead you’re pushing me away!”

“Okay. You want me to talk? Let’s talk.” Your bottom lip trembles as you look up at him and toss your hoodie back over your body. “Every single damn day I am praying that I don’t wake up in this life, and I wake up in the next because I am tired. I am so tired, Eddie. When I sleep, I don’t feel this fucking throbbing pain in my chest like I feel right now. When I sleep, I have dreams instead of nightmares now and I see her. I see her and she’s alive and I want to stay there. I physically cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror because of how fucked up I look. I don’t tell you these things because it’s not your fucking job to heal me, it’s no one’s job.”

Eddie stands there stunned, his fingers clench around his chest, a lump forms in his throat, and a breath escapes him. “You’re telling me, that every day you pray you don’t wake up? How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?!”

“You wanted to talk!” You snap at him. “You wanted the truth so I’m telling you!”

Tears form in his eyes as he stares at you. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me if I lost you? I mean, fuck, I feel like I’m almost there just by how you’ve been lately. It would destroy me if something happened to you. It would kill me. And you pray for that every day?”

You stand up from the couch, grabbing the joint from the table and lighting it quickly; you inhale and let the smoke billow from your nostrils. “I don’t want to die Eddie.”

“Then what the fuck are you saying to me?!” He yells, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I’m saying I don’t want to feel this pain anymore! If I could cut it out of me without bleeding out I would do it! If I could swallow a bunch of pills just to get rid of it and be okay, I would do it! I don’t want to die; I want to kill this part of me that feels all this pain and guilt and fucking grief and just be done with it!” You yell at him, hot tears stream down your face. “So yeah, I pray for it.”

Eddie runs his hands over his mouth, a small sob escaping him as he stares at you. “Why haven’t you told me this?” His voice is so full of pain, it kills you.

“Because it’s not your job to heal me.”

“It is if I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” He cries and your breath hitches. “Fuck! I want it all with you. I want you; I want the marriage, I want those babies with you, I want a fucking house in the suburbs with a damn dog! Hell, maybe even a cat. But I meant it when I said that when I look to the future, you’re in it. And right now; I feel like you’re telling me you don’t want any of that.”

“Of course, I do.” You say quietly, averting your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“I don’t think you do.” Eddie’s hand goes over his heart again, feeling it slowly break.

“You’re not inside my head, okay?” You snap at him and point to your temple. “It’s a fucking mess in here. Why would you want to be with someone for the rest of your life who can’t even take a shower? Who has a devil and angel on her shoulder, one telling her it’s okay to feel all this pain and the other telling her, grab those drugs from a few months ago! You won’t feel a goddamn thing!”

“Hold on a minute, you told me you didn’t have any left.” He was big mad; you could see it in his eyes.

“I lied.” You meet his eyes, and he lets out a laugh.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do and hate to break it to you, sweetheart. It’s not gonna work.” He wipes his eyes and his nose. “Did you do it?”

“No.” You whisper.

“Go get it then.” Eddie sneers and you look at him like he slapped you. “If you want to do it, numb your pain that way, fucking doit. I’ll do it with you. It will be a Kodak fucking moment.”

“No. Eddie what the fu—"

“Why? You want to kill that part of yourself, right? Why don’t you kill it slowly with the drugs? Better yet, I’ll go find the guy that supplied the shit that I had, and I’ll go on a fucking ride.” He heads towards the door, tears still running down his face, his eyes wild. You follow him and grab his arm.

“Eddie, stop it! That could fucking kill you!”

“Just a small part of me.” Eddie says, his tone cold.

You let go of his arm, eyes narrowing. “Oh, fuck you!”

“Stings, doesn’t it?”

“What are you doing!? Why are you acting like this?!” You yell through your tears.

“Because you’re not the only one who lost her!” It’s out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Your eyes are wide, glistening with tears. He stares at you, rubbing his palm over his lips. “I cannot imagine the pain you feel right now. But I look at you and I can feel it radiate it from you, every single day. The light in your eyes is gone. And it’s because you choose to suffer with this grief alone.”

You step back from him, shaking your head as you stare at him. “You know what? You need to go. Get out.”

“You think I’m gonna leave after what you just told me? You’re out of your mind.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“You are a fucking asshole!” Your eyes are wide, wild. You open the front door. “I don’t care if you sleep outside in your van, you need to get away from me!” Tears are pouring down your cheeks as you throw open the front door, you look up at him. “You promised me you wouldn’t push. You promised.”

“I guess we’re both liars then.” His big brown eyes match your same wild ones, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Please. Just go. Go away.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Eddie says through his gritted teeth.

“I want you to! I don’t want to see you! I don’t want to be in the same room as you! Get the fuck out of my house! Get out or I’m calling the fucking cops!”

He stares at you hard. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t? I’ll just say the magic words, town freak, right?”

His breath hitches and he felt his heart snap in two. Those words have haunted him for five years, and you used it as ammunition, you aimed, and fired. He looks out to his van and then back at you, his face turns from sadness to full on anger. “Fine. Go ahead and suffer alone.”

He walks away from you, you slam the door shut, and slide down to the floor. Your breathing accelerates and you sob into your hands. You did it, you actually did it. You just took the last ten years, wrapped it up in a ball and threw it in the dumpster.

Eddie hops into his van, not even bothering to put his seat belt on and peels out of your driveway. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. His heart was pounding, behind his eyes stung, he felt like he had his entire body was vibrating. He passes the Leaving Hawkins sign and keeps driving until he’s on a dark stretch of road; he pulls over to the side and turns the car off. He leans his forehead against the steering wheel, his breathing picking up, his hands grip the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. He leans back, punching his dashboard not once, not twice, but three times, and he screams, the sound so guttural, so full of pain, full of anger. “Fuuuuuuck!!!!!!!”

He sobs, hard. His body trembling as every single emotion that he had bottled up these last few months finally made its way to the surface. He shouldn’t have pushed, he knows that, but he’s glad he did. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have known how bad you were hurting, but it didn’t matter now. You told him to go, so he did. He takes a cigarette out, lights it and inhales, his breath trembling as the smoke comes out. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore, he needed to feel something else other than this pain, and he felt like a goddamn hypocrite when he turns on the van, driving to Indianapolis to a spot where he knew he’d be able to get rid of his pain. It didn’t matter now, none of it mattered, he was just pulling the strings to his own destruction.

He completely disassociated on the ride to the city; he doesn’t even remember putting on music. He goes down a side street, trying to remember if he’s in the right spot, and when he sees the neon BEER sign, he knew he reached his destination. He only knew about this place because of his dad, he had brought him here when he was last out of prison. In every corner of the bar, someone was snorting something, drinking something, smoking something. He parks the van and gets out; as soon as he opens the door to the bar he is hit with aromas of weed, cigarette smoke, and stale beer. It wasn’t that crowded, and Eddie was glad. He sits on the stool at the bar, the bartender was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, with kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“What can I get you, honey?” She asks sweetly, placing a napkin in front of him.

“Whiskey, please, straight.” He hands her a twenty-dollar bill, which she hesitates to take, but does anyway.

She places the glass in front of him, and he brings the rim of the glass to his lips, knocking the whole thing back. He winces at the bitter taste and twirls his finger around asking for another. She refills his glass, and he nurses this one.

“You look like you’ve been trekking through a war zone there, sweetheart.” She tells him gently, leaning against the bar, shining a glass.

Eddie meets her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not gonna pry, I’m just not sure if you’ve come to the wrong place or the right place.” She gently pats his hand and goes down to the other side of the bar to talk to the other patrons. Eddie glances around the bar, and his eyes fix on a booth in the corner. There’s a man speaking to a woman with their heads bowed, she couldn’t have been much younger than Eddie, she was strikingly beautiful, but had very sad eyes, he notices the exchange. The man had put something in her hand, and she walks away from him, leaving the bar. The man notices Eddie staring and nods at him with a smile, Eddie nods back, looking away from him. He stares at his glass, twirling it in his fingers, the brown liquid moves side to side as he stares at the glass. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, the man was still there, quietly sipping his beer, looking up at the television that had some sort of sports game on.

Eddie knocks the rest of his second drink back and gets up from the stool. He feels the hair prickle on the back of his neck as he walks towards the man. The man looks at him and smiles, leaning back in his seat. He looked like a washed-up version of Robert DeNiro, a little intimidating, otherwise he seemed nice.

Eddie takes out his hand and the man takes it. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

“Leon.” He sounded southern, Eddie thought. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know, what do you got?” Eddie asks, already feeling the effects of the drugs that he didn’t even take yet. That’s how much he loved it the first time he tried it, and that was by accident. Again, it didn’t matter anymore.

Puppet.

“Uppers, downers, china white—"

Pulling the strings.

“How much for the China white?”

Destruction.

Eddie had driven back to the county line outside of Hawkins and had parked in an abandoned fishing spot. The only source of light was from the moon reflecting off the pond, and he opens the square. Leon had told him that if he wasn’t going to shoot it, he’d have to go slow, a small bump. Eddie hated needles, despite having all his tattoos, he couldn’t understand how someone could willingly stick a needle in their arm.

You’re about to snort it, you stupid fuck. What’s the difference? It’s still heroin.

Eddie takes a cassette from under his seat, he didn’t even bother to look at who the artist was, he was gonna throw it out anyway. He sprinkles a little bit of powder on it, no bigger than his fingernail and takes a rolled-up dollar bill. With no hesitation, he’s snorting it into his air ways. He grunts, his nostrils stinging, and a wave of nausea hits him. The cassette tape falls out of his hands, and he feels the vomit hit the back of his throat. He pushes his door open with his shoulder, vomiting all over the ground. He leans his body onto the door panel, wiping his mouth, coughing a little and that’s when he feels it. His eyes flutter close, and he feels a smile grace his lips.

“Oh shit.” He whispers, feeling the euphoria coursing through his blood stream, his nervous system, everywhere. He tries to think of something, think of you, think of her, and he felt nothing. Puppet. Strings. Destruction. He practically drags himself into his driver seat and slams his door. He reaches for the bag of powder, blindly finds the dollar bill and snorts again. He laughs when he lifts his head up, it falls back onto the headrest. Before he knew it, it was all gone and he was smoking a cigarette, his eyes half lidded, his head nodding to the side. He would jump awake, inhale on the cigarette and nod out again. He was just resting his eyes, he told himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in your driveway. He sits up straighter, seeing that it was still dark outside. How the fuck did I get here? He pushes the front door open and practically falls out. He holds his head, the sudden pressure from getting up too fast making him dizzy as he stumbles onto your front porch, pushing your door open. He calls your name, but you don’t answer. He notices the stillness as he stood there, noticing all the lights were off, there was no sound. He suddenly felt sober, and his feet take him to the center of your living room. The light from the bathroom came through the door that was ajar, and all he hears is the sound of his own breathing and his footfalls.

He pushes the door open slowly with his palm, the hinges squeaking, and he sees you lying there. You’re on your back, your head tilted to one side, arms splayed out, unmoving.

A groan escapes him, a sound that started from the very depths of his soul. His body falls against the door, and he falls to his knees. His body felt stiff as he crawled to you, hot, angry tears were pooling from his eyes.

“Nooo…” He groans, his hand shaking as he turns your face, your eyes in a fixed stare. He inhales deeply, cupping your face. You just have to kiss her, and she’ll wake up. That’s all, like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

Eddie kisses your lips gently, his tears falling to your cheeks, and he lifts his head. You still lay there unmoving, no breath from your lips. His mouth falls open in a gasp as he looks at you, and his body shakes with sobs. He stares at your face, he couldn’t understand what was happening, why this was happening.

“Please come back to me, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said, please.” He cups your face, smoothing back your hair; you were so cold. “Just wake up now, and we can start over, that’s all. Just wake up…please!!!” He cries and cradles your limp body to him, trying to figure out something, anything that will get you to wake up. He kisses your cheeks, your hair, your forehead.

His head falls back, and a loud, guttural wail escapes his lungs. “Nooooooo!!!”

“Nooooo!” Eddie screams himself awake. The sun was beating down on him in the van as he catches his breath, looking around, panic and fright in his wide brown eyes. He was still parked at the pond. He feels bile rise in his throat and barely gets the door open before he’s violently vomiting on the ground. His vomit from the night before inches from where he stood. He wipes his mouth, his skin sweaty, damp. He squints in the sunlight and holds his stomach. He was still high, but functional, his logical part of his brain working faster than it did last night.

“Fucking idiot, Munson.” He says to himself, and then he remembers his dream. A breath is caught in his throat, and he scrambles himself back in the van, he starts it up, throwing it into reverse and speeds out of there. He was dry heaving on the way to your house, having to stop only once to pull over and vomit again.

He almost forgets to put the van into park when he screeches into your driveway. He almost falls out and scrambles up the steps, your door was unlocked. He doesn’t bother closing it when he runs in and shouts your name. His blood ran cold when he didn’t get a response from you, and he screams your name again. He runs into the living room, his breath caught when he sees that the bathroom door is ajar like in his dream. His heart pounded and he felt his hands shake: it was just a dream, it wasn’t real. Just a dream.

The door squeaks open, and you walk out, towel drying your hair from taking a long hot shower. A whimper escapes his lungs, and he startles you.

The towel falls from your hands as you stare at him and he stares at you, he’s looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost. You immediately notice his features, his pale face, his eyes wide with panic, almost black. He was sweaty, and your hand goes to your mouth to hold back your cry, you knew immediately what he had done and part of you felt responsible.

There was desperation on both of your faces, and the two of you crash into each other, sobbing and holding each other. Eddie holds your face in his hands, kissing you over and over, his tears mixing with yours.

“You’re here.” He kept saying and you weren’t sure why. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He cries holding your face and you shake your head, sputtering, you can feel your face flush as you caress his face, his hair, staring into his eyes.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had you leave. I didn’t do the rest of the drugs, I got rid of them, I flushed them. I didn’t do them, I swear.” Panic is in your voice, and he holds onto your waist tightly as you keep touching him, keeping him upright.

Eddie feels his heart split in two and feels the guilt bubbling up in his chest as his head falls to your shoulder and he sobs. You hold him there, rubbing the back of his head as you both sobbed. “I fucked up last night, I’m so sorry. But I needed to not feel anything. I thought it didn’t matter, I thought I lost you forever and I couldn’t…couldn’t handle losing another person, I couldn’t handle that pain. There’s so much of it and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You pull away and hold his face, shaking your head as you give him a small smile. “We have to feel it, I realized that after you left last night. That’s one of the only ways that lets us know that she was real, that the pain is real; that our love is real.”

“How do you not hate me?” His lip trembles. “After everything I said, after what I did.”

“Because I love you. No matter what and that’s a hard fucking pill to swallow when you realize how much you love a person, even when you’re so fucking angry at them.”

You run your thumb along his lips, and he smiles softly. “When you left last night, I wanted to die. I was awful to you, I pushed you away because I thought your life would be a lot less chaotic without me in it. And then…” You inhale deeply, your voice shaking. “Then I felt her. I felt this warmth, this blanket of pure comfort and I just let it consume me. Everything poured out, I thought my guts were gonna shut down and I would be stuck in a loop of constant tears forever, but I let her in, and she stayed awhile.”

Eddie laughs a little as tears continue to fall from his eyes, he caresses your face, your hair and kisses you softly. “I love you.” He whispers to you.

“I know.” You smirk up at him, wiping away his tears.

He kisses you again, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, letting out a sigh of relief. You hold him tight, rubbing his back and arms.

He takes a shower soon afterwards; scrubbing the last night away until his skin felt raw, and he swore he rubbed off most of his chest tattoos. He finds you in your room, and he walks in with no shirt, and just his jeans. His wet curly hair stuck to his chest. You’re sitting upright, sketching in what looks like your mother's sketch pad.

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing down at the book. “You’re sketching?”

You look up at him and smile; you were just doodling. Some wildflowers, eye shapes, your hands. You didn’t feel ready to paint yet, and you forgot how much you loved to sketch. You couldn’t force yourself to be happy, but you could try to be a bit more human.

You feel his eyes on you and look up again. He’s smiling that sweet smile, his dimples large. He still looked a little high, but he was less sweaty, less jumpy. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to feel once it was completely out of his system. Would it hurt? He wondered. But he realized he didn’t care if it did, he deserved to feel that pain.

You close the sketch pad and put it on your nightstand, you scoot closer to him, you drape your legs on either side of him while he kneeled. His hand reaches up to caress your face, your lips, and you pull his mouth towards yours in a sweet kiss. You lay back, taking him with you, he cups your face, his other hand going to your leg to hook around his waist, the kiss deepening. His lips travel to your throat, leaving a soft trail of kisses there and to the center of your chest. You sigh lovingly at his touch, and he lifts up your shirt, leaving soft kisses on your tummy, around your navel and ribs. He feels you shudder at his touch, and he pulls you up, peeling your shirt over your head. You were naked underneath, and he kisses you again. The tips of his fingers glide up your arm, leaving goosebumps to prickle on your skin. You grip his forearm, and gently move your fingers up and down as he kisses your neck, slowly moving down, leaving soft kisses around your breasts, and taking your nipple into his mouth, gently sucking. Your back arches and you moan; he goes to your other breast, gently kissing and sucking. His hand travels down your belly while he teases your nipples, and he snaps the button of your jeans. He meets your lips passionately again, grunting softly as his hand slides down over your sex and fingers your clit generously. You arch your hips, and he pulls off your jeans and underwear. He hovers above you after taking off his own jeans and rubs your face. He leans down to kiss you, his lips soft. You let out a moan and he grunts when you feel him push himself inside you, your back arches at the feeling, a loving sigh escaping your lips. His mouth stays hovered above yours as he thrusts, and you look into his eyes. His fingertips dig gently into your thighs and a throaty moan escapes his lips. He caresses your face, kissing your lips softly, burying his face in your chest, licking around your nipple again. You grip his shoulders, moaning loud, the sensation of his gentleness, the grinding of his hips, was enough to get you to scream. Your orgasm was building in your lower belly, but you didn’t want this feeling to end. You held onto it, and flipped him onto his back, riding him gently, your palms on his chest. Your clit rubs against his pelvis, and your head falls back in a whimper. He holds your hips, his head arching back against the pillow. He sits up, holding him to you in the butterfly position, his arms tightly around your middle, his lips against your breast. The tingles in your belly grow, and you clench around him, your head falls back as you cry out in pleasure, your orgasm causing every part of your body to tremble, and tears spring to your eyes. He groans against you as he orgasms soon after you, he holds you to him, still catching up on your breathing and you look into his eyes. His hand caresses your cheek, and he kisses you gently. You push yourself off him so you’re sitting more in his lap, pressing your forehead against his and he hugs your waist.

Staring into his big brown eyes, you give him a soft smile, gently petting his face. “From now on, we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets.”

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “No more secrets.”

“I’m not okay, Eddie.” You tell him quietly, your eyes filling up with tears, he tightens his hold. “And I won’t be for a long time. When she died…I think, I think a part of me did too. That’s where that pain is.” You press your hand over your heart, and he gently kisses the center of your chest. “They say there’s stages of this grief, but I think they’re full of shit. I think you go through each stage, over and over and over again. It’s constant, like a running stream. And I know you’re not okay, either. You were right when you said that I’m not the only one who lost her—”

“Sweetheart, that was—”

“Let me finish.” You smile at him, kissing his nose and he stares into your eyes. “I’m not the only one that lost her. Yeah, I lost the bond that we formed as soon as I was born, I lost the late-night talks and getting my tears wiped away because she was my mother. You lost someone very special to you, someone who showed you love and comfort and a bond that can be so rare to find. I will never take that away from you. Your grief is your grief, not mine. But we can heal together. It's not gonna be easy, it’s gonna be really fucking hard but I plan on doing this with you for the rest of my life. I plan on feeling every single emotion that God or whoever the fuck throws at me, at us. I plan on you being by my side until we’re old, watching our grandchildren grow up, yelling at each other on how to figure out technology because let’s face it, this world is going to be run by machines soon. You are the best thing, the craziest thing, that has ever happened to me, and I’m gonna hold onto that until I can’t anymore.”

His eyes are filled with tears, and he smiles large, kissing you passionately. You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek before getting off his lap. He lights up a cigarette, inhaling it deeply and stretches. He looks at you with his arm draped over his shoulder, just watching you. He stands up to get dressed but you stop him.

“Wait.” You tell him, grabbing your sketch book. “Stay like that."

"What? Why?” He laughs.

“Shut up, don’t move.”

He smiles at you and stays still, and you begin to sketch out his form. Eddie suddenly felt shy as he hears your pencil hit the paper, this was such an intimate moment, and he didn’t want to mess it up. You concentrated so hard on what you were doing, and he felt his heart skip a few beats as he watches you, both nude, just the sounds of the creativity coming out of your brain.

You smiled when you were finished, and Eddie was able to move his limbs, feeling stiff all over. You wipe off the pencil dust and hand it to him. He smiles large, you had captured him so beautifully and he realizes it was true, you saw him for who he truly was.

Just Eddie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Autumn had come out of nowhere, and you wrap your sweater tighter around you as another wave of nausea hits you. You had left work early; it seemed like every twenty minutes you were running to the bathroom to puke your guts out. You tried to think about what you had eaten the night before; was it the chicken? Was it the leftover meatloaf you had made for your father’s birthday? Eddie had been very cryptic lately, and it was starting to piss you off. He would ask you questions about what color paint you’d use to paint a kitchen, hardwood or carpet; you would overhear him talking to your father about stuff that had to do with finances, and your father had a glint in his eyes, and you tried to think of anything that could possibly make sense. The nausea hits you again and you run to the bathroom and vomit hard. You swore there was nothing left in your system to vomit but your body had other plans. You lean against the tub, the coolness of the porcelain an odd comfort against your skin.

Your eyes land on an unopened box of tampons, and a sudden thought occurred to you. Closing your eyes, you think back to when you last had your period; trying to figure out the math was like trying to figure out a formula with Einstein. Your eyes snap open; it had been over a month since your last period.

A month.

Nausea hits you again and you grip the porcelain, preparing for the worst but nothing comes. “There’s no way.” You say to yourself and lift yourself up on shaky legs.

Grabbing your keys, you rush out the door to your car, and go into a local pharmacy. You take the first test you see, and don’t make eye contact with the cashier as she rings you up. When you arrived home, you were grateful Eddie was still at work, and your father was finishing up a construction job in Ohio. You rip open the test, reading the directions.

“Pee on it? How the fuck…” Your eyes squint as you look at the small diagram drawing of how to get coat the test in urine. Groaning, you pull down your pants, and do your business, yelling comedically as you get urine all over your hand trying to match the test up with the stream. The directions said you had to wait three minutes for the results, and you sit on the toilet lid, your leg bopping up and down anxiously as you wait.

Once the three minutes was up, you don’t look right away. Your arm reaches the sink counter, and you take it, looking down at the tiny window. There were two lines, and you suddenly forgot what that meant. You scramble to dig the directions out of the trash, scanning the black ink until you reach the result section.

One line meant it was negative.

Two lines meant…

Your hands shake as you stare at the test in your hand, like it was a rare piece of art, and you were trying desperately to see if the picture would move.

No matter how you look at it, the result is gonna stay the same.

A smile creeps up on your lips, tears well in your eyes and you cover your mouth with your hand.

Something happens to you just now; it felt like the Earth shifted right at your feet. Before there was a constant tilt for so many months, now suddenly it was upright. Everything seemed brighter, you felt a dull ache in your chest, but it wasn’t pain, no, it was something different.

Something warm.

There was a human being growing inside you. Yours and Eddie’s baby. Your father’s grandchild, your mother’s grandchild. Yours. A being that had a part of you and a part of the man you loved. Your best friend, your lover, your confidant.

You were going to be parents.

You were going to be a mother.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fem!reader

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reincarnationoftheparty · 6 months

Text

A Slow Dance with a Stranger

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of depression.

*James always makes me cry when I read about his struggles with depression and loss, and all I wanna do is go back in time and give him the hug I know he needed. So I wrote this. This is also my first time posting something like this, so please bare with my rookie writing.*

A lone drop of water rolls down the cold glass, collecting condensation along the way. It grows heavier with accumulation, plummeting the rest of the way down to a small puddle gathered on wood, surrounding the base of the pint.

James sat reclined against the back of the leather barstool, arms crossed and glowering at the glass pint of beer. His hatred for the unwilling love he held for such a substance. It was powerful and complex, and quite frankly too intimidating to think about. So, he pushes the thought away, reaches for the handle and takes another swig.

The yeasty sweet liquid fizzes down his throat, to the pit of his stomach to join the familiar but nameless feeling that resided in his gut for as long as he could remember. Over the last year, it had gotten worse, what with Cliff’s unfortunate passing. He wasn’t too familiar with the idea of properly handling his emotions when it came to loss in his life. Although the thought of his friend’s life being cut too short tugged at his heart, it also conjured up anger. The constant reminder that the driver very well could have been lying with the patch of ice story, a cover up for careless, distracted, or intoxicated driving. Especially considering right after the bus accident occurred, James wandered out into the cold night in nothing but his boxers to find the patch of ice himself and found nothing.

The memory of that night echoed in his head like a broken record in a music hall. The crash, the panic, the cold biting his bare skin, the screams. Everyone’s screams. Cliffs silence.

There were many routes he could take these theories, and the more he plagued his mind with them, the angrier he got. The last time he let his fury flourish, he’d gotten himself and his buddies into trouble. So in attempt to abandon the thought process, he repeats the cycle, putting the pint back down on its water-ring, and watching the droplets race. He hoped the alcohol would kick in and serve the purpose he would constantly seek from it; to blur his judgement, deter himself from running his own mental investigations and stressing himself out. His heart couldn’t take much more.

He still delt with the burden of his childhood. All the conflicting emotions resided; the love and mourning for his mom, the betrayal and hatred for his dad. There wasn’t a single day that went by that he wondered when it would just go away, when he could be normal and just live his life without feeling the plethora of emotional baggage weighing down on his young yet weary shoulders. The only thing that lifted that weight temporarily was booze.

He scanned around the bar blankly. It was large, decorated in rustic driftwood and neon light aesthetic. The jukebox set to randomize, as A Picture of Me (Without You) by George Jones echoes off the walls and empty dance floor. An old drunk pair of men murmuring in soft conversation with each other on the opposite side of the bar.

It was the first sanctuary he could find after he’d stormed out of the studio, pissed off and annoyed trying to finish this new album. If he was completely honest, he was mostly agitated at the new bassist. He could lie and blame it on Jason’s constant need for direction, the way he played with a pick instead of his fingers, the list could go on if James tried hard enough. But the reality of his reasoning was, Jason wasn’t Cliff. It wasn’t a good reason, but anyone who’d lost their best friend would understand that pain. Cliff; a pure soul, the first to lend a helping hand, the last to serve judgement where it wasn’t needed. All of those qualities, gone.

Cliff, gone.

That persistent reminder poked and prodded at James’ brain and heart every time he played with the new guy, looked at the new guy, or even acknowledged the fact that the band had a new guy. He knew it wasn’t fair, he was aware it was fucked up. But he was drowning too deep in his own grief to mentally address that. Maybe one day he could apologize for his behavior, and genuinely mean it. But for now, he stuck to the only coping skills he’d picked up in life; music, drinking, and anger.

He downed the rest of his beer, signaling the bartender for a refill.

The old man drops his cloth, grabbing the empty glass and tilting it under the tap. James leans back in his chair again as he watches it refill, before shifting his gaze down the bar top, absentmindedly tapping his fingertips heavily against the wood.

The sound of the door opening interrupts the peace, as the daylight pours into the dark bar for a few seconds. He looks back and sees a girl saunter in. She looked close to his age, but her expression wielded an age much older, her eyes revealing her to be carrying a heavy burden. He turned back around, focusing on the now full pint that was slid toward him as he nodded to the bartender in thanks.

The young girl sits at the bar, a few stools adjacent from his. With his eyes hiding behind his hair, he was able to sneak a glance at her. She was slumped in her seat, bag discarded from her shoulder onto the dirty bar floor. He observed her as she adjusted the thin strap of her white sun dress and gathered her hair over to one side before propping her elbows on the bar and resting her chin between her hands.

As she dazed at the wood, similar to James a few moments ago, the old bartender walks up to where she sat.

“What can I get ya, darlin’?” He old man’s southern twang gruff, but welcoming.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and warm, like melted chocolate.

“Double shot of Jameson and a Seagrams, please.” She murmurs, sliding over a couple bills and her ID.

The old man glances down at the license and nods, wiping his hands with a towel before tossing it across his shoulder.

“You got it.” He gets to work on her order.

James averts his eyes back down, grabbing the full glass and raising it to his lips.

With the distraction of the girl across the bar, he was pulled from the twister in his conscience and into the calm after the storm, suddenly realizing how bored he truly was just slouching in the stool for nearly two hours. He tried to busy himself and fiddled with a small, wrinkled napkin — folding it, and creasing it.

In his peripheral, the bartender returns to her, sliding over the shot glass and a fruity wine cooler.

“Here ya go, if ya need an’thing, just holler.”

She thanks him silently. Without a second wasted, she grabs the small glass and downs the amber liquid, tilting her head back and swallowing with a mild cringe.

Subconsciously, he continues to watch as she pushes the tiny glass away and brings the bottle to her lips for a brief sip to chase away the awful burn. As she wipes the liquid from her top lip, her gaze flicks to his and he immediately blinks to look away, focusing back on the crinkled napkin.

He can feel her eyes burning a hole into his jam-packed skull.

The girl seemed to take instant interest in James from across the bar, hard to miss such a wild golden blonde head of hair. It was also hard to miss the energy that surrounded his space, like a heavy black cloud. His eyes told similar stories to her own; heavy baggage weighing down his eyelids, unless of course it could have been the alcohol. However, it was clear the guy was troubled, simply because she’d seen that look on many faces before. Witnessed it on the familiar face she’d seen in the mirror almost every day.

Before James could even see her move, she was settling on a stool a seat away from him, dropping her bag on the seat between them and her little pink wine cooler on the bar top.

He observed her, his brows knitted together as she settled nearly beside him, not acknowledging his presence. She took a gulp of her drink, putting it back down but holding it with both her hands.

Her voice smooth as fresh honey filled his ears.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

In ultimate shock and befuddlement, his head swiveled back to the young girl quickly, his face baring his reaction.

She looked at him almost like she knew him, like she’d seen him around before. There was a possibility she knew who he was, but judging by her outward appearance, he would never take her for a fan of Metallica. Or any metal for that matter.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, of course. But if he was a betting man, she’d most likely be jamming in her car to Peggy Lee, Bonnie Tyler, or maybe even Heart if she were to dabble in any rock genre.

He wondered how he’d even looked approachable. Most people said he’d had an intimidating demeanor, that’s also probably when he’d be around friends and had to put on that mask in order to hide his truest expression, the result of years of depression he never felt he could actually talk about. Maybe that’s the expression she was seeing?

James’ face softens and he shakes his head, grabbing his beer and muttering quietly.

“No thanks.” He takes a sip, looking ahead at nothing. Anything but her burrowing stare.

She hums in response, leaning back in her seat and holding the bottle close to her chest as she looks ahead with him. She remains silent for a few moments, before continuing.

“You know, psychology has proven bottled up emotions can only escalate before they disappear.”

She takes a sip of her drink.

James sighs. “Look, I’m not entirely in the mood to unload my baggage onto a stranger, much less talk at all. So please.”

He hates having to shut her down this way, but the thought of unraveling everything in his brain seemed too tedious to do. Especially with a stranger, somehow that just seemed even harder and made less sense.

She doesn’t back down though.

“See, but that’s just it. I’m a stranger. Who would I be to judge your issues, perhaps I’m just here to listen.”

She doesn’t seem to take a hint. James rubs his hand over his face and groans, but she doesn’t stop there.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to ‘unload your baggage’. Just the details that are bugging you, right now. Tell me what brought you here.”

She adds, taking a sip and looking at him with wide inquisitive eyes.

He rests his forearms on the edge of the bar and looks at her with bewilderment.

“Do you always just walk up to random people and push them to tell you their problems? It’s kinda rude.”

She shrugs, unfazed by his comment. “Only when they look like they really need it. Especially when they claim they don’t.”

He couldn’t comprehend the logic behind it, not completely. Maybe it was her boldness that he struggled to process. Normally the women he encountered were more reserved, only spoke to him when spoken to, waited their turn. This strange girl on the other hand not only initiated conversation, but quite literally jumped to the nitty-gritty. She was intriguing, but ultimately weird. In an inexplainable way, he was drawn to that. He felt anyone else probably would have been intimidated or freaked out, but in all honesty there was nothing inherently threatening about her.

He looks away from her again. “Well, I don’t. But thanks for the concern.” He concluded in attempts to end the conversation.

But of course, that wasn’t the end for her.

“Okay, okay…” She twirls the bottles bottom edge on the wood surface, for a few beats, the echo of a country song fills the silence.

“How about a dance?”

With his arms crossed his head twists to her, giving her a stunned grimace.

“A what?”

“A dance.” She repeats.

“With a complete stranger…?”

She only nods with an insistent smile on her face.

He shakes his head. “You aren’t right in the head lady.”

She snorts and mutters, “No need to remind me.”

He sighs, turning away from her again as she resumes the offer.

“One dance, what’s the worst that could happen?” She insists, taking a sip.

James scoffs, “I don’t know, you murder me?”

She nearly chokes on her wine cooler, wiping the spilled liquid from her face with her wrist.

“Do I honestly look like I’m capable of that? And if I was going to murder you, I’d at least make sure the bar was busier so it would be less obvious.”

He raises his eyebrows and nods, “You just confirmed you are more than capable.”

She rolls her eyes and props an elbow on the bar, “Oh, come on. I’m obviously not trying to murder you. I’m just in the mood for a little spontaneity and you look like you could use it too. You seem like a spur-of-the-moment kinda guy!”

“Spur-of-the-moment? Me?” He points his finger to his chest, baffled.

She nods again, “Mhm.” as she leans closer, her eyes plead, face resembling a kicked puppy as she resumes softly “Come on… one song. If you totally hate it, I’ll leave this bar, never to be seen again.”

Shaking his head, he huffs as he looks down in thought. She was incredibly persistent, but not aggressive. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she was cute, and as he’s mentally admitted, intriguing. Besides, sitting at the bar turned out to be incredibly uninteresting now that she was here. He also never realized how lonely he’d felt until she invaded his bubble of dwelling.

With a sigh of defeat, he reached for the pint and brought it to his lips, chugging down the rest of the brew in several gulps. He places the glass down with a thud, wipes his mouth with his sleeve and stands as he looks to her.

“One dance.” He finally agrees, as she stands with a smile and holds her hand out for him to take.

She guides him to the jukebox, slipping in a couple quarters and searches for a specific song.

James watches fixedly as she presses the arrow button, flipping through the guide with intent, almost as if she already had a song in mind.

“Ah! Here we go.” She presses in a number combination and turns to him. “Lead the way to the dance floor, good sir.” She says in a goofy English accent. He scoffs in amusement and takes her hand again, gently dragging her to the center of the floor. The opening instrumental of Take It to the Limit by the Eagles begins humming through the speakers surrounding the bar.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

All alone at the end of the evening,

And the bright lights have faded to blue,

I was thinkin’ ‘bout a woman

Who might have loved me

I never knew…

James takes her hand in his and hesitantly places his hand on her waist. She resists the urge to snicker at his stiffness and rests her free hand on his shoulder. They sway, the motion forced and awkward.

Stepping a little closer, she murmurs softly, “Just loosen up, pretend I’m someone you know…”

He sneers, “Pft, yeah, okay.”

A soft beguiled giggle escapes her as she smiles and adjusts her whole forearm on his upper back, shuffling a few inches little closer and laying her head against his shoulder.

You know I’ve always been a dreamer

spent my life runnin’ ‘round

And it’s so hard to change

Can’t seem to settle down

But the dreams I’ve seen lately

He struggled at the idea of her being able to feel his heart pounding in his chest, partially from bemusement, but also from the foreign feeling of physical contact so intimate. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d felt something similar to comfort like this. Her touch was almost angelic with how gentle she was. It was also hard to miss how heavenly she smelled with her head directly below his chin. He glanced down at her soft hair, brows knitted together in confusion at his predicament and how different he felt compared to what he’d expected. How does he process this feeling? It wasn’t feelings for her; no. It was ease, safe, warm.

Keep on burnin’ out and turnin’ out the same,

So put me on a highway,

And show me a sign,

And take it to the limit one more time

Slowly he begins to give in to the feeling; slackening his jaw and dropping his shoulders a little bit. She must have felt it, because she readjusted her head and arm slightly in response, seeming to get more comfortable against him. He teeters on the decision before carefully migrating his hand toward the middle of her lower back, lowering his face to hover over the top of her head, a sudden urge to be closer. He could feel his heart settle, slowing the thrums inside of him like turning off a running motor.

You can spend all your time making money

You can spend all your love making time

If it all fell to pieces tomorrow

Would you still be mine?

It was crazy wasn’t it? Who could he tell this to if he were to tell someone? The thought of explaining this story, accepting a dance with a complete stranger, it made him feel unhinged. He continuously wondered if this was just some dream. He may be buzzed, but his judgement of reality was better than to believe that. He could feel her; her smaller hand rested in his, the warm head leaned against his shoulder as her fingers wrapped onto it. To further convince himself it was all real, he’d decided to move his hand on her waist to feel the lacy fabric of her dress as it trailed to wrap his entire arm around her as he rested his cheek atop her hair to smell her sweet shampoo.

And when you’re looking for your freedom

Nobody seems to care

And you can’t find the door

Can’t find it anywhere

When there’s nothing to believe in

Now James could confirm he hadn’t felt this content in a while, at least not from a person. Music definitely helped, every time he performed with the guys was the only true moments he could free himself from the tribulations of his conscience. Her hold was like a hug he was too stubborn to ask for, but knew he’d genuinely needed. He would be too embarrassed to admit he needed any form of tender consolation to anyone who actually knew him; that’s just not what men do, they keep on keeping on until some type of saving grace comes along and makes it better. But with a stranger, apparently you don’t have to say anything.

Still you’re coming back

You’re running back

You’re coming back for more

So put me on a highway,

And show me a sign,

And take it to the limit one more time

As the songs continues to repeat the lyrics, he knows it’s coming to an end soon. So, he closes his eyes to savor the moment. Perhaps she was angel, heaven sent for him in his time of need. The only exception he’d make for believing in the higher power after his childhood.

He hadn’t the slightest clue if this was just a one-time thing, but just in case, he finally pushed his guard aside and let go of her hand, moving it to wrap his other arm around her upper back. It took her by surprise, feeling him melt in her hold, but she went with it and mirrored his actions and wrapped her arm around his torso. It had turned into a swaying hug between strangers, who genuinely needed it.

After a minute the song finally ended, fading out in reverse crescendo to silence. However, neither of them let go. Gently she lifts her head to peer up at him, causing him to return her relaxed gaze.

“Do you wanna stop?” She murmurs softly.

As another slow song plays through the speakers, he simply shakes his head, afraid that if he spoke, he’d choke up. She can see an emotion in his eyes, one he probably doesn’t understand, but he seemed content enough to continue holding her close.

She nods, smiling warmly at him. “Okay.” She whispers, gingerly placing her head back to his shoulder as they continue swaying to the music. The embrace between the two was sincere, a coziness they’d sought in each other’s presence.

After a few more songs, the girl needed to leave, bidding him goodbye with a few final words of wisdom. “All wars eventually end, but it won’t always be pretty. In the meantime, keep fighting, yet seek peace without hurting yourself.”

That night, James lay in his bed restless, thinking about the nameless girl who had made him feel okay for the first time in a while. Even if it was just for a few hours.

She had taken all the problems he never told her about and placed them on the back burner. Like it was nothing, like she just had to look into his eyes to see everything and understand.

It felt like finally taking a seat after running a marathon for most of his life. He eventually fell asleep to the lyrics playing on repeat in his head…

So put me on a highway

And show me a sign

And take it to the limit one more time.

#james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #kirk hammett #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica #metallica fanfiction #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield x you #kirk hammett x reader

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manicpixieginger · 4 months

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I hate you booktok. I hate you 'A [blank] of [blank] and [blank]' style titles. I hate you the oversaturation and dominance of colleen hoover novels and repetitive low quality romance novels. I hate you books marketed on your 'spicy-ness'. I hate you 'fantasy found family enemies to lovers sharing a bed right person wrong time childhood friends to lovers with spicy scenes' marketing books on tropes - but what is it actually ABOUT? I hate you booktok sections in bookstores. I hate you reading as an aesthetic. I hate you author infighting and drama that gets widespread coverage and encouragement on twitter and tiktok. I hate you books that romanticise men who punch walls and show unrestrained rage and have no other way to deal with their feelings for women aside from anger and physical violence and feigned stonyfaced nonchalance and possessive behavior and mind games.

#booktok #rant #i hate colleen hoover #seriously #if she werent so overexposed I'd probably hate her less but she's everywhere and her writing is piss poor.#and novels written tailormade to fit into certain overused formulaic tropes #and shittily written romances

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botanicalsword · 8 months

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8th House Synastry • who feels more

Always be the question : Planet vs House person?

All things must come to an end but for every end awaits a new beginning.

8th house signifies the territory everything that is hidden and unknown

Unforgettable Karmic Bonds

• 8th house synastry

signifies depth, dark consciousness, sexuality, deep connections, trust, and betrayal

signifies a love that is deeply engraved in one's heart. Even if it is an unexpected love, it will evoke intense emotions and leave behind a lingering warmth that consumes your love

Who feels more? Planets vs House Person?

For example:

>> more : Sun in 8th House - synastry

When the Sun falls into 8th House synastry, it suggests that the House person brings energy and vitality into a certain aspect of the Sun’s life. Sun is deeply attracted to the significance of house person in that particular aspect of life, and for House person, they will come to understand and feel the Sun’s energy through their experiences in that realm.

Sun's energy is influenced by the house person's sensuality and their desire for deep connections, allowing for a closer and more intimate bond between both parties.

>> more : 8th House synastry

For example:

Mars in Sagittarius in 8th House - Synastry

Venus in Sagittarius in 8th House - Synastry

Overall, having Sagittarius on your 8th house cusp means others' Sagittarius energies, like a Mars in Sagittarius, tend to manifest in your life through 8th house themes of renewal, release and transformation on emotional, sexual and psychological levels.

Those with Sagittarius on the cusp of the 8th house of their birth chart tend to experience intimacy, transformation, and vulnerability in an expansive, philosophical, and exploratory way.

When such an individual encounters someone with Venus in the zodiac sign of Sagittarius, there is a natural resonance between their 8th house themes and the Venusian qualities expressed by that person.

Venus in Sagittarius vibrates with a joyful, optimistic, and uninhibited love of beauty, freedom, and broad horizons.

However, for the 8th house Sagittarius individual, they will encounter and process this Venusian energy through the filter of their own 8th house themes - death, rebirth, taboos, sexuality, mysticism and the unknown. The aesthetic and expression of love exemplified by that person's Venus in Sagittarius will activate deeper areas of introspection and growth within the 8th house Sagittarius individual, touching upon mysteries within themselves that crave illumination.

Their encounters may stir up difficult emotions and shadow elements that the 8th house individual usually keeps hidden.

Yet the positive, freedom-loving spirit of Venus in Sagittarius also provides optimism and wisdom that can help guide the 8th house individual through such tumultuous inner waters toward greater self-knowledge and psychological liberation.

Main lesson of 8th House Synastry

“Those people who are least aware of their unconscious side are the most influenced by it.” — C.G. Jung, Volume 8: Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche

Acknowledge root issue from your past

Learn to accept the wounds that have been formed from childhood to adulthood, learn to communicate with your inner child, and learn to embrace that inner child.

Aware of the strong emotions

Experience intense emotions

the strong emotions you are currently feeling may not be related to your current situation.

Your current relationship may be a trigger of your fears, anger, or feelings of abandonment that you have experienced long ago

>> back to table of contents

Masterlist @botanicalsword

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slutttttttttttttttt69 · 7 days

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Why, In my opinion, "Spiracle" is the ideal song for Sebaciel.

In case you are unfamiliar with the song I am referring to, it is titled "Spiracle" and performed by Flowerface.

I've got way too much time on my hands and I'm seriously lacking sleep, so I thought I'd write this thread.

But before we dive in, let me recommend Flowerface.

Besides having this amazing song, they've quickly become one of my favorite artists and have much more to offer than this.

So, without any more delay, let's get started!

WARNING!

I'm just a teenager looking to have a good time, so please don't take any of this too seriously.

So, I came across this song while scrolling through Sebaciel playlists, and boom, there it was.

Since the very first time I laid my ears on it, I couldn't get enough of that tune. It's got this spooky, eerie, yet strangely comforting vibe that fits perfectly with Sebaciel aesthetic.

Little did I know, it was just the tip of the iceberg.

Personally, I'm drawn to music primarily because of its lyrics. So, it was only natural for me to do some digging on them. Let me tell you, I was far from disappointed...

The first verse goes:

I want the parts of you you only show

To the corner of your bathroom mirror

I want the parts of your hand-grenade heart

That beat slowly with anger and fear

Yall can already guess where Im going with this.

This is how Sebastian sees Ciel from his point of view,how he is expressing a desire for intimacy and emotional connection with him.He is asking to see the hidden, vulnerable parts of Ciels emotions and thoughts. The lines about the mirror and heart represent a desire to create a safe space for him, to let his defenses down and open themself up.Personally, I have observed Sebastian's deeper affection towards Ciel compared to Ciel's feelings towards Sebastian.Ironic.

I want the parts of you you only show

To the birds outside your bedroom window

I want the teeth that you lost as a child

That you hide in a box under your pillow

These lyrics express a similar desire for closeness and intimacy, but with a focus on the Ciels younger self. There may be a reference to the idea of lost innocence, and a wish to go back in time to find those parts of the Ciels childhood that he feels he no longer has. The notion of a box which is hidden under a pillow may represent Ciel's feeling of embarrassment over his experiences, or perhaps his lack of acceptance of the past.

YALL SEE THE VISION RIGHT?

I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing

The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you

And I want your violence, your silent sedation

Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation

NOW THIS IS WHERE IT GETS REAL.

Sebastian is looking for the extremes and complexities of Ciel, wanting access to his intense passions, aggression, and pain. The reference to salt on lips suggest Sebastians hunger and desire for physical intimacy, while the mention of morbid fixation suggests an interest in the dark, twisted, and perhaps taboo aspects of the other Ciels psyche.Not to mention the violence part.

Do I really have to explain further? This verse delves into Sebastian's willingness to assist Ciel in seeking revenge, his patience with Ciel's outbursts, his understanding of Ciel's complexities, and his unwavering love for him despite it all.

And I want your pyro, your born-again virgin

Your hands on my insides, your fingertips crawling

And I want your Jesus, your suicide mission

Your lips on the microphone, soft disposition

The lyrics reveal a longing for intense physical closeness and sexual discovery.Sebastian who is eager to delve into Ciel's raw desires and untamed passion, craving deep and intimate connection. The phrase "born-again virgin" hints at a willingness to embrace his primal urges, showing a sense of surrender. And let's not forget the religious undertones - "I want your Jesus" says it all. Ciel's quest for revenge is his suicide mission.

UGH.

And I want your parties, the shark in your water

The scrapes on your knees and the blood that spills over

And I want your zeroes, your polluted marrow

The sweat on your palms and your surveillance shadow

The shark in the water speaks of a danger or threat, while the scrapes on knees and flowing blood speak of pain and violence. The notion of zeros could represent Ciel's emptiness and absence, while the polluted marrow suggests his idea of a loss of purity and sickness. The line about the sweat on the palms and surveillance shadow ties in with Ciel's paranoia and anxiety. All of these themes show Sebastian's desire to experience the full range of emotions and physical sensations, including those that may be difficult or uncomfortable. I LOVE THEM.

I want your secrets, your clementine fields

The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal

I want your safe word, your passive resistance

The sickness you foster, your favorite addictions

Dude. "I want your safe word" HELLO?

"THE PARTS THAT WONT HEAL" !!!!!

ALSO the mention of the clementine fields can refer to Ciel's of innocence and childhood naivety. The lines about ropes represent Sebastian's desire to explore and heal the Ciel's past wounds.

And I want your nightmares, the ghost in your doorway

Your paralyzed sleep and your *scream*

I want you, butterfly, I want you, sailor

I am your lover and I am your jailor

These are pretty self explenatory,thats why they are my favorite.

Just too much paralles.

This is what I see when they say "I want your nightmares,the ghost in your doorway"

Sebastian's perception of Ciel as a butterfly holds significant meaning, symbolizing hope, transformation, and rebirth. Through his affection for Ciel, Sebastian finds hope and undergoes a profound change, shedding his cold demeanor. The butterflies also embody notions of freedom, earthly beauty, love, and the human soul. Similarly, Ciel can be likened to a "sailor" due to his curiosity, yearning for the unknown, and hidden passion. Sebastian, as both Ciel's lover and literal jailor, perfectly aligns with their contractual bond. Bound to Ciel until the end of his life, Sebastian consumes his soul, sealing Ciel to him until the end of Sebastian's own existence.

Alrighty then! That's the complete song for you. Maybe I'll consider doing "Cornflower blue" next. I really hope you all enjoyed this. And hey, I'd be thrilled if you could drop some comments and share your perspective on this. It would mean the world to me!

#black butler #black butler season 4 #kuroshitsuji #sebaciel #sebastian x ciel #proship #antis dni #anti anti #proship friendly #proshippers are valid #proshippers please interact #proshipper safe #book of circus #book of atlantic #book of murder #public school arc #Spotify

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dallonwrites · 7 months

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REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS - WIP intro

[ revelations, revelations by @dallonwrites / kevin laminto / erica e. goode / @/negaversace / revelations, revelations / mateus campos felipe / jay hulme / amatullah bourdon / tony detroit / revelations, revelations ]

disclaimer: this is my own original work

Genre: Literary Fiction Setting: San Francisco, 1985-1986 Aesthetics: saltwater, moon reflections in lakes, big empty houses, stained glass windows, blue hour, disco nights, night time city ambience, streetlights, swimming pools, the moon, blurry film photos, cold coffee, cigarettes, diners at night, birthday cake Essential Songs From The Playlist: Modern Talking - Cheri Cheri Lady / Shannon - Let the Music Play / Madonna - Material Girl / Patti Smith - Because the Night / Bronski Beat - Smalltown Boy / Tears for Fears - Everybody Wants to Rule the World / Cyndi Lauper - Girls Just Want to Have Fun / Diana Ross - Upside Down / Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) / Sade - Smooth Operator / The Buggles - Video Killed the Radio Star Deals With: Christian trauma + fundamentalism, faith, sibling relationships, childhood trauma, girlhood into womanhood, queerness and being closeted, AIDS crisis, toxic fathers, absent mothers Summary: Twins Dorothy and Felix have little memories of a time before their upbringing in a tiny, gated Christian fundamentalist community, and even less memories of their mother. As isolated children they retreated into each other and, even as they get older and began having separate experiences of their religion, and as their father hurt one of them with his distance and the other with his closeness, they still promised to one day escape together. But as their community grew sinister, and their rejection of it escalated into a violence and shared trauma they can't tell anyone else of, a rift formed: Dorothy's anger and resentment grew; Felix retreated further into faith to try and remedy himself. Dorothy escaped, and Felix didn't follow. When they reunite three years later, Felix will do anything to make it up to his sister. The return of an old habit of breaking into family homes to see what they could've had, and Dorothy's fixation on a man she believes reflects all the pain her old religion caused her, sees them fall back into the same co-dependency and co-destruction they wanted to escape. Amongst all this, they separately experience intense, unstable relationships, and a fragile friendship group that reaches breaking point when people start to get sick. Trying to understand their bond as adults, their placement in their community, and attempts to escape their past sees them fall right back into it, leaving the question of whether they can separate themselves from their trauma - or each other - at all.

If you've been around you already know about this one. She's basically the source of my special interest and whilst I would love to finish her one day, she's also just my special baby and I love getting to shape her over and over again. That being said in the last year I've found myself much more settled in the story and I think! It is starting to really come to life!

This is part of a wider ~series~, which is to say I have a special interest and cannot stop writing novels about the same characters, usually in the same setting. My other WIP, Lover Boy, is set in the same storyline and covers the years after. These are all personal projects that I work on at my own slow pace, but I talk about them a lot!

#DALLON TRYING TO SUMMARISE RR IN TWO PARAGRAPHS CHALLENGE. KIND OF FAILED BUT WE MOVE #RR GIRLS (GENDER NEUTRAL) WAKE UP!!!!!#such a good example of my autism is me being like yeah itd be cool to add songs! just like three or something though. YEAH THAT HAPPENED #the RR playlist actually one of my favourites.....my magnum opus #absolutely one of the playlists where im like yeah the novel sounds like this. the RR soundscape hits #i've been finding 80s songs for this wip for three years oops #wip intro #RR

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theyareweird · 6 months

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1984 Ghostbusters: Egon Spengler —Aesthetic

Dr. Egon Spengler's Character & Personality

Egon is a former professor of paranormal studies at Columbia University. He's considered the brain behind the Ghostbusters who has designed and built nearly all of their equipment. Egon is hard-working and constantly focused on the paranormal activity of New York. In general, his life revolves around scientific study of all kinds, especially on ghosts. In his spare time, he collects spores, molds and fungus. Egon's efforts in experiments, while sacrificing a personal life, pay off. His theories and decisions from clear-thinking, ultimately save his friends multiple times. Unfortunately, Egon doesn't articulate his emotions well and is "always serious". Yet, He's not immune to anger. Under duress, Egon has been known to swear at times. His childhood may not have been a happy one, as it's suggested his parents were emotionally neglectful; because they "didn't believe in toys". Beyond this, Egon ignores romantic advances and keeps quiet. He's also sly with a dead-pan sense of humor. However, although he's terrified of giant monsters, Egon stays with the others, being brave and cool-headed in the face of doom.

#egon spengler #ghostbusters #aesthetic #art #80s #moodboard #80s movie #supernatural

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pluralsword · 4 months

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Months Later, Earthspark...

So... we didn't forget about Earthspark.

How could we? We've said we think it's the overall best Transformers show so far in 2023 CE, we were very excited at how it tackled how gender and alt-mode can relate to each other (except the Jawbreaker episode was a disappointment what with how masculinity problems were basically substituted for dinosaurs and mixed up with what should have been a PTSD narrative for Grimlock separate from Jawbreaker's aesthetic journey, and on the subject of rage that came here you would sure think the warrior teacher gal Robbie's asks if she'd show her "beserker rage" would have had some advise), the prison abolition stuff is cool, Arcee was fantastic and so very clearly drawing on her IDW iterations to the point we were hoping she'd talk about gender stuff onscreen and it would unfortunately seem that is not likely to happen... So we were enthused, but also frustrated, with how the Terran and Cybertronian aspects of life are almost always only seen through the lens of anatomy, vague history, or the oppression they go through under an ICE allegory, and qualms that have been touched on how the Terrans are basically raised without connection or celebration of transformer societal practices along with false equivalencies of the Transformers to human immigrants to the USA and uh well... ...there were some things that squicked us about some of the threats the characters faced that reminded us of childhood traumas from media and socialization growing up and we don't feel like getting into it directly too much.

We wanted to write something that honored the parts we liked while navigating how we think the bots in-universe would feel about the stuff the show didn't cover or the traumas they were put through, and how they may have tackled that offscreen, if only because we feel the deep want to. So... several months ago, after writing part of the first chapter but not being in the emotional headspace to actually finish it what with other things in life going on, we got back to it in November:

All Souls' Reforging is Neverending, which you can read on Ao3, here's the summary:

After the events of Season 1 Episode 19 "A Stygi Situation", Grimlock and Jawbreaker are in the forest when Grim gets a call from his close friend and old revolutionary war pal, Arcee, who's checking on him and offering to hang out beyond the notice of GHOST to help with his healing process, as Grimlock had done for her twice in the past. Grimlock happily agrees, and Jawbreaker goes along as well. In the Autobot's hideaway, Arcee and Grimlock detail to Jawbreaker some of the depths of peaceful transformer history and society that overlap and differ from humanity, the hierarchy that disrupted that legacy, and the Autobot rise after. Arcee also gives him some tools to embrace his strength to be gentle. As a neurodiverse trans system with some gal gender stuff & a second generation immigrant background who navigated anger and rage and pain over otherness and alienation, it was a bit saddening to see how awkward the guy-gal dynamic was in "A Stygi Situation" and that Arcee wasn't present with her own insight on rage as a tool with reason and ethos. So we wrote this, Chapter 2 and 3 will be about Arcee, Nova Storm, & Skywarp navigating traumas from episodes after, and how they seek closure.

For people who are okay with chapter spoilers, you can find the chapter 2 summary below. we dunno when we're gonna write chapter 3, rather busy:

Nova Storm and Skywarp have been through a lot. Veterans of the war against Functionism, they fell from the ethos of solidarity then by helping fight for the Decepticon Empire. In the aftermath of that war, they ended up on the run from GHOST on an unfriendly world, had to turn to the cruel and hateful Dr. Mandroid for sustenance and vengeance, endured imprisonment, faced off against the terrifying and repulsively invasive Dweller of the Depths, and finally became part of the reckoning that brings down GHOST. Trauma hits differently for everyone, and for Nova Storm, her encounter with the Dweller has left her unable to enjoy embraces and kisses from her partner Skywarp, and she still struggles with anger and sadness over how helpless she felt. So, when the dust settles after the Season 1 finale, Nova Storm turns for help from one of her old combat unit friends among the Autobots, Arcee… and she and Skywarp realize almost immediately that the violation of autonomy by mind control that Arcee experienced from GHOST likely left her in need of help as well, so mutual healing and reconciliation is sought… along with resolve to make joy and mourn for all that has come to pass.

So uh, yeah, this chapter also deals with how icky the Dweller in the Depths episode was (particularly but certainly not limited to the way the Dweller held Nova Storm reminded us of sexual(ized) violence. to be honest) in a way that we think the characters might in retrospect.

Again, you can read All Souls' Reforging is Neverending, which you can read on Ao3. Also, please feel free to reach out to us about this writing or comment, we know it covers sensitive topics even if with a g-rated framework.

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your-mom-friend · 2 years

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Ranking Avatars on a Completely Arbitrary Scale Part 2: Apocalypse Boogaloo

Arson Montague: 11/10. What an icon. She is the moment. I want a full series surrounding her life. She had a Coffee Shop AU with Jack Barnabas and immediately stopped being evil and died. Poor girl. I can't help but find the circumstances of her existence so funny though. Her mom killed her dad while she's been pregnant. The cult didn't even want this to happen since she wasn't "conceived in the flame". According to the wiki they relented since "no one knew how that would even work". They threw away the childcare book because it didn't fit the aesthetic. She still turned out pretty okay. We love to see it.

Annabelle Cain: 8/10. We don't even know anything concrete about her childhood because she might not have told the truth. Go queen give us nothing! Yeah she terrified people at the arachnophobia study but she also used her powers to help Jarchivist and Co. so like? good for her? Confirmed Eldritch Horror.

Nikola Orsinov: 3/10 *in the tune* fuck this shit i'm out! fuck this shit i'm out! No but fr she gave me legit creeps and the forced skincare routine while hilarious to think about just makes me itch all over. Not a fan. Sorry bestie. Do have to give her points for being a whole Demon Mannequin and still being freaked out by The Coffin, as well as for being sassy with Elias. Points deducted for killing Danny

Nathaniel Thorp: 9/10 this man was requested and I had to look him up because i lowkey forgot but when I saw the start I remembered INSTANTLY I love him. He cheated death!! in a game!! what a madlad. Cut off his finger to prove a point lmao. Sad that he was a coward in the beginning but ah aren't we all? He died and then undied and then got better but couldn't eat or drink. What a character. @4bsent-damascus I hope you know you have excellent taste.

Melanie Queen: 8/10. Queen of owning her opinion. Not gonna call her a girlboss or whatever (she is but not for the eye thing) but if there's one thing she's unparalleled at it's owning her opinions. I feel for her! I really do. If I had a ghost bullet in my leg that decayed my morals enough to let me get all the pent-up anger out I would also not want it out. She was horrible to Jon for most of her run, but I also get it? Also, like fucking hell dude she had to mutilate her eyes to get her life back!!

Daisy Tonner: 8/10. She's a good person!! I love her. Points off for being a cop though. But she owned up to the harm she caused! And after disconnecting from The Hunt she worked VERY hard to make sure she wouldn't hurt people again and still allowed it to overtake her so she could protect her friends! Excellent character and she has incredible depth and complexity

Hezekiah WAKEly: 10.5/10 just wanted to lay in the dirt and get some sleep. What a mood. He didn't even really do anything! Yeah he was a little enthusiastic about the grave digging but I feel like that's understandable. If my only good sleep came after I dug graves I too would want to dig more graves. half a point off for murdering his friend though :/ I would've docked a whole point but his friend was a snitch and told the church which is pretty lame. Also it's so funny that the guy that wanted to sleep so bad had the last name Wakely

Maxwell Reimer: 5/10. His last incarnation kidnapped a kid which is a very bad thing to do, so don't. He is kind of a mid character to me honestly. Points for being a body hopper like my man JMag but eh. No real feeling about him sorry lads.

Tova McHugh: 5/10. Diversity Win! The person stealing your life force is a Demigirl! [This is from checking the wiki, where it's noted that Tova is referred to with both she and they pronouns.] This is more from personal dislike of the whole "I can do more so my life is worth more" philosophy they've got going on. Kind fucked up bestie. Was going to be a 4 but I kind of appreciate how much she's working for the philanthropy? In the sense of "I've taken their lives so I need to make it worth it so it wasn't in vain" which is has complicated feelings but I think it's good.

Micheal Crew: 6/10. Overall good character actually. He had some bad luck with the lightning strike and only went after the Lietners to get rid of the thing that was tormenting him. Devoted himself to The Vast and only then was a little insane. Don't think he even actually killed anyone? Just scares the shit out of them. Cool guy.

Julia Montauk: 7/10. Really cool to me actually. Feral, which we love to see. She's got such a fun dynamic with Trevor. She wasn't even like, a bad person at first. Just trying to live her life and then some pool of nightmare ink made heer feral and she's been living that monster hunting life ever since. Points off for keeping Gerry imprisoned and trying to kill Jon. Though I do wonder how she and Trevor managed to get into the UK at all considering they couldn't before

Trevor Herbert: 8.5/10. What a madlad. Showed up in season 1 like "what's up I'm Herb I'm homeless and I may have killed a man". Just wholesale unhinged. He also battled lung cancer. and addiction. and he won!! Incredible. Love his dynamic with Julia and I would've given him a 7 but I forgot about the addiction and lung cancer thing till I looked it up and I think that deserves an extra point that shit is hard.

This is part 2 of this post

Tag list: @pipis-pods @alas-shes-mad @4bsent-damascus @crabussy @u-suck-im-sick

Lmk who else you want to see and I'll add them in the next part (there's so many avatars it's insane there's like 80)

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astroaid · 5 days

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Aries Rising May 2024 Horoscope

Accuracy entirely dependent on ENTIRE natal chart. Take this as entertainment.

Venus will move into your 2nd House. Here in taurus, she is in her home sign. She feels comfortable and relaxed. It’s common during this transit for people to make aesthetic changes specifically to the face

( ex: teeth cleaning, piercings, purchase new frames or switch to contacts ).

Pluto will square venus this month too. This brings conflict/tension between 2nd house & 11th house topics. Examples: You may get into arguments or feel negatively towards friends or elder siblings due to money or possessions.

Venus comes into your 2nd once a year. You can look back to March-April 2023 for how this transit usually influences you. Each year is different but certain patterns may repeat.

This year is different because Jupiter & Uranus are in the 2nd with venus. You may have better & unexpected luck when it comes to finances & possessions. Keep in mind, 2nd house is earned income. The more work you have put in to reach your financial goals, the more likely you are to be rewarded. Unfortunately for some, this transit may be an unexpected expense. However, it’s possible the expense may be one that you really want. It could be food related as this is the sign of taurus. It may be a materialistic possession you desire. It may be something regarding the face or aesthetics.

At the end of the month, Jupiter leaves taurus and goes into gemini/your 3rd third house. Since May 2023, Jupiter in taurus has been wanting you to expand your 2nd house - the positive manifestation of this is you have felt motivated to make more money. The negative manifestation of this is some people may have felt the need to make big and indulgent purchases. You may have been prone to eating more sweets or eating out rather than at home. This could have been hard on your bank account. Especially with the prices of food rising.

But starting around May 25/27, jupiter will move to expand your 3rd house. This will gradually create the urge for more knowledge and expansion in 3rd house topics.

Possible manifestations: Wanting to learn a new language, wanting to learn to drive or get a car. Wanting to spend more time with siblings or cousins or childhood friends. Opportunities for travel like road trips. Or fun experiences in your area.

However, Jupiter is not comfortable in the sign of gemini. Jupiter is the mentor/educator. Gemini is the curious, witty but mischievous student. Jupiter wants to help gemini but gemini doesn’t want to sit in a classroom and be lectured at by Jupiter. Jupiter sees the bigger picture and wants to share this with gemini. But jupiter talks too much and takes forever to get to the point. So gemini gets bored, loses interest & asks distracting questions.

You may see not just in your life but the life of others that they are more prone to gossiping, have shorter attention spans. People may play “pranks” by releasing misinformation/lying. In a broader sense, the word may struggle with the rise of AI. People are already beginning to use the AI inappropriately. In your personal lives, you may see people are simply up to no good - cheating, lying, stealing, etc.

Your chart ruler, mars is coming into its home sign of aries/ your first house. This will give you the extra push to go after what you want. You may be more decisive, more energetic, more eager. On the other hand, it will make you more confrontational, more impulsive, possibly emphasize any anger you already have. Mars in first can cause breakouts, rashes, inflammation and you could be at risk of scarring, burning & cuts at this time. So be careful around if you cook. But at the end of the day, this is your chart ruler so this is mostly positive. May can be a very action orientated month if you wish to use this energy.

Mercury isn’t leaving aries until the 15th. It was in retrograde which could have led people to reflect and change their minds. First half of May, mercury & mars will be in aries. This combination makes you decisive and direct. Good time to take action. Watch out for being impulsive and argumentative. You could definitely (figuratively) cut someone’s head off without meaning to this month.

After the 15th, mercury moves into taurus. Between the 15th and 23rd, mercury, venus, sun, jupiter & uranus are in taurus. This puts a lot of focus on money and possessions this month. Good time to be buying, selling, negotiating.

Some of you reading may be to too young to be making your own income. This may not resonate at all. But it is likely seeds are being planted this month, that will later bloom to help you financially in the future.

If you can already see of this happening, please let me know how it manifests for you 💜

#astrology #astrology observations #aries rising #solar return observations #leo rising #libra rising #cancer rising #tarot pac #gemini rising #aquarius rising #capricorn rising #scorpio rising #taurus rising

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dreamsofminnie · 1 year

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“500 years... And not once did I forget you.”

{Dainsleif x Reader} Part 1

Part 2 <(Link will be open once its posted

Summary-> These centuries, these years apart. Khaenri’ah was cold but your heart felt much colder. The forgivable sin Dainsleif left had left imprinted deeply into your flesh. Then why do you feel this overbearing longing for his pressence once again? Years of therapy, self-reflection, and vividly horrid night terrors; couldn’t stop this ache when you lay eyes upon him once more.

Notes-> This took several months to write and plan </3 Originally for my bestie for her birthday but I thinks it’s too well written to not share. I hope you like this lighthearted, horror+mystery, a lil comfort, then hurt & angst—in that order <3 @wraitingyou

Taglist Open to anyone✨

Tags-> DainsleifxReader, Angst, Slow burn, We die in vain, mystery, genocide, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Reader is from Khaenri’ah, Khaenri’ah lore, reader is from Khaenri’ah, repressed memory, the cataclysm | fall of Khaenri’ah, pre-cataclysm Khaenri’ah, mutual pining, childhood friends, hurt no comfort, pain and suffering, angst and humour, slight gore, horror, body horror, decimation, the abyss, abyss order, reader is not traveler, betrayal, Rhinedottir, mentions of alternate universe, comfort, pining, fluff to angst, implied/referenced character death, genshin plot, Royal guard Dainsleif, reader was a royal guard, nostalgia, suffering, harsh language, heartbreak, no love, delusional dreams real, memory lost, regaining memories

Word Count-> 5.6k

✨

“See you later! Have a safe trip, except for you Wanderer. I hope you trip on your way out and get buried under.” Running farther away from your friend and the pest, you had really prayed for your dear friend’s safety with that gremlin of a puppet.

The inn you all were staying at was starting to get less packed with the huge rainstorm passing. Sumeru surely was a rainforest of region, much more comforting out of all the places you have traveled so far.

Faint drips of rain plopped onto the windows. Soothing yet setting for a melancholy atmosphere. Not that it’s needed, you don’t ever get sappy for anything.

“Therapy session for this month check. Controlled anger issues check. Resistance in making crude jokes.. hnn, check i guess.” I should be good for another few months…”

“I must prepare to leave early tomorrow morning.” Diving into bed is the best parts of the day. No need to waste energy on minuscule thoughts.

Except, innsomnia is a tired person's worst literal nightmare.

“Agh, the kitchen would be closed at this time of the night. Snacks are a nope. Fresh air then, stars are always mesmerizing, maybe they can hypnotize me to sleep.” Irritation laced your words, not thinking much of them.

Curse the devil for allowing innsomnia.

Slipping into a coat you walk out your room and onto the large public balcony.

The inn you were staying at was in the main Sumeru city. Twisted into the tree trunk, the rooms carved into the tree while the balcony stuck out with marble flooring. The usual white spiral ramps gave the inn exits either going up or down.

Though to you, Sumeru is one of the nicest places to enjoy scenery. Aesthetic in all ways. The stars this night didn't fall flat of this statement.

Truly

Something to admire

Something forgotten

Leaning on the balcony railings the gentle breeze took some leaves for flight and your eyes followed suit.

Till they landed on a silhouette standing ten feet away looking in the opposite direction. His back was broad and he stood tall. His hair paled much more in the moonlight and clothes rustled with each growing breeze. The breeze acted like it was setting a mood as it grew a bit harsher.

A twinge in your nerves caused you to walk towards him.

Strange emotion pileing up for this unknown man.

Then it dropped.

You couldn’t believe you thought that was someone who would stir such emotions. Your head thought it was a person your heart has longed for. But a person you have no idea of. Who? Who did you think it was?

Thinking now, the breeze wouldn’t be able to set a mood even if someone were to sober it. Not that there needs to be mood setting.

“Don’t you have a home and a broke man to accommodate to.” Snarky remarks at 4am is exactly what a man needs to hear to crawl back home. Except it doen’t work on pricks.

“And what pleasantries do we have here.” He taunted and turned around his face cold as ever.

“I don’t understand your feeble scholar upgraded language. Shut the fuck up. My insomnia can’t handle pricks.” Alhaitham closed his thick study books and used it to tilt your chin up.

You were standing two steps apart. Well, one step for him since long legs and all.

“Tighnari has smelling herbs for insomnia. Did your puny brain not tell you of that prick either.” You huff and push his book straight back into his chest. “Unlike you. He is much more welcome in my bubble of friendship. Dried up cactuses don’t get a say in my life.”

Alhaitham tucks the book under his arms and turns towards the ramp going down. “Then I guess this dried up cactus will fuck off as you said.” He took five steps before slightly turning back at you.

“Insomnia herb. Get it tommorrow.”

Then he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck. He sounded like he ordered one for me already?! I’ll make sure he didn’t tomorrow morning. Hhuu. That exchange made me exhausted.” With groggy eyes you drag your feet back into the inn.

Upon entering your room once again, you hit the sack faster than you took off your bulky coat.

✨

“AAUUCK!! fak.” You bolted up. These Sumeru bed’s are truly something. Though there were sheets and blankets for comfort, the main part of the bed has grass and leaves atop the wooden base inside. They leave you pretty sore for people who have never slept on a hard surface like these.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“Time to get that medicine i guess. And check out of the Inn.”

“Archons bless you Tighnari. Lifesaverr, your the bestt!!” You placed all the stuff he gave you into your travel bag securely.

“No problem. Those should be able to last you for a month or more. Just as you don’t overdo your state.” He crossed his arms in a knowing stare.

You avoid his eyes, then recalled an annoying swirling voice in your head. “When did you prepare this for me..?”

“I really hope it’s not…-”

“He put in the order.”

“HOW THE FUCK! When did that bastard get the time to message you in that short time I talked to him yesterday night?! What is he watching my every move or something. creepy.”

“Creep sent a messenger bird late at night.” Your bewildered and irritated sigh battled your disgust to fight him right now. So you settled with another direction. Slapping a piece of paper on the floor you scribbled a rushed “thank you” letter.

“Please send this to Alhaitham the creep, as my condolences to his creepy ways.” You mocked his formal speech and handed Tighnari the piece of paper with a drawing.

“What the fuck.” Tighnari stared at the drawing in dumfoundedness and a slight tinge of amusement if this was sent.

“It counts as two things, see? One could represent a middle finger then the other…well, those two spherical structures are the things he doesn't have. He doesn't have those to fight me" (balls to fight me)

“I wish I could see his reaction to this then. I guess I’ll send it to him for you.” You smiled to Tighnari in gratitude. You could always count on your sassy gay friend.

“But anyways, don’t you have to get going, it’s reaching noon soon.” Tighnari looked in the sky and back towards you.

“Ah! Of course of course… Hiking is the most terrible sport…can’t believe people do this for fun.”

Tighnari crosses his arms and moved along with his wight shift, deadpanned. “I do that for a job. Get used to it, hiker.” Pointed his thumb towards the hills.

“Sheesh. Well then I’m heading off. Thank you for the weed, bye bye.”

You could hear a loud bewildered huff merged with a laugh, while you ran off.

✨

By the time you reached the edge of Fontaine the sky grew dark. Good thing Tighnari suggested you take one of his makeshift tents. Inns won't be available on the outskirts of the city so it will take a while to hike further.

Light rain hit the tent in pitter patters. Soothing.

You take the paper package of the medicinal herbs out. “Ah. How did he tell me to make this again? Where’s the ball.” Rummaging through your bag you took out an incense ball. A similar one to what Tighnari has but yours was darker in tone and in dull blue and black.

You hung the ball from a short wire off the ground. Opened the top and sprinkled in half a handful of the herb. It closed shut and you shook it around a few times. A bit of water from your bottle was tossed in this concoction. The incense ball’s scent soon filled the tent.

“So fast and effective..” A yawn already erupted from your mouth.

Droplets of rain. Therapeutic.

✨

The tent folded back and incense packed you headed off once again.

To the heart of Fontaine.

You really were getting tired of inns. The amount of money you have was starting to lack. You pondered if you should just take some simple requests from small villages along the way. You gain money, and they gain help.

You nodded to yourself and paraded to nearby villages.

You followed a pathway toward the houses keeping your eyes aware of anyone that seemed in need of help.

A man standing a few feet away seemed distressed while he paced back and forth anxiously.

Your curiosity peeked as you came closer. “Hello sir. Are you okay? You seemed terribly stressed” You heard that Fontaine was a place of formalities so speaking the part was no problem.

The man hurriedly looked up expectantly. “Are you perhaps a mercenary?! You’ve got to help! Oh, it’s a hell of a mess!! He’s-he might die. Surely will pass away! Theft, murder, moronic fool!!”

You lower his arms from flailing around in erratic movements in his panicked stupor. “Uh. I’m not quite catching up sir..” You would have thought it would take much more just to get a request.

The middle-aged man gulped in large breaths to smooth his emotional turmoil.

“My cousin, Guillaume, has been recently been in debt as a treasure horder. He is quite skilled but truly reckless. He fought a bunch of Abyss mages that seemed to be in a middle of a ritual... Treasure of course was engraved in his skull. So when he picked up a heavy object from the scene, it made him crazed. He became hostile to every person who comes near him. Injured many. Not only that, but the occurrence enraged the abyss and he is getting hunted by the Fontaine police as well as the Abyss. From that, he started kidnapping people into his hideout and they too become crazed… I know I should trust the officials but.. their pride is too high to even adknowledge my input.”

He wasn't fidgety anymore and remained calm. This series of events seemed bothersome to you now. Too much work for you who just wanted some quick task. Intriguing of course, but eh.

“As well as the fact that the Fontaine officials were here moments ago and left as quickly. I was merely aggravated when a gentleman came by to ask questions about this incident. He hurried when I gave all my information on the location. I worry for the gentleman. I can’t help to stress. As well as…I know that Guillaume is deeply in dispair. He has this small window where he is sane and…He sent me a few letters..”

You took some time to ponder all the information. The abyss is after the man who stole something, the thing has changed him and everyone around it. They seem like they became, monstrous—ugh!

Your hand was deeply clenched at your scalp head throbbing so loudly and throat dry.

“Dear me! Are you alright!! Apologizes to the hefty load!” He hurriedly sat you down on a short stone fence and fetched water from the well a few feet away.

The sounds of splashing water seemed much more distant than 5 feet away.

‘It's so dizzy..’

Red fizzled and flashed in your head. Red flags that encouraged you forward. A terrible way to go but who knows. Maybe, just maybe, solving this can make those nightmares that lead to your insomnia go away. Bloodshed. The cause of why you see bloodshed in these nightmares has always bothered you so bad.

“…iel, Iel! Hello?! Are you well?! Drink drink, water” You release your tight hold on your head to take the large cup. The water was cool and slide down as a semblance of relief. The reflection mirrored your pained expression, your frowned. It was not a good look for you. But cracking jokes at this time, wasen’t wise.

“..thank you for the water. I don’t know what happened just now. But. I will help with this, for the gentleman and for your cousin. If he still can be helped…” The man relaxed at your conscious state and nodded.

“I will provide you more details.”

✨

Rest was not an option in this tight knit issue. Anything could formulate in the span of a whole minute. And your dread never faded the whole time you thought about this.

Let’s see, the man said Guillaume would take the villagers at midnight when the stars are high up. In the daytime, he isn’t crazed and sits in solitude in despair. He is responsible for dozens of people he has dragged.

You feel sickened. The letters you got to read by Guillaume were heart-wrenching and explicit. However, it could only be judged on the rule of the scene.

Some crucial details in the letters were his descriptions.

“The crystal shines so luminescently venomous.

It burns as well as attracts……

I can’t take it.

Please please. Hel 𝓹

Your leetrs that say you will save me from this hell is false!

The feel of gasoline ignites my fingers to my core.

Though I feel it welcome me……

The ghastly scars leave residue atop my skin. Horrific.

Black.

All ash

My vision has been narrowly obscured.

How I am able to pick up a pen is beyond my imagination.

Is my brain really intact?

Hah.

I think someone is comi. g into the room. Annoyance……

I think— I shut up their cries……

Do I-know them?

Haha…she is trying to plead with me……

She remi nd.s me of m. y wife..

FUCK. WHA T HAVE I DO Ne. SHE- *incomprehensible scribbles and a slight dried dampness*

The human has given in to the crystal how astounding……

Haha. Her screams have filled the room……

The stars are approaching. It will be time again…….

How thrilling……

A feast is due……

Ps. [___] power lets us fly too. Did you really think I used a carrier pigeon…….

Stars stay alight in farewell…….delight……”

The letter gave you the shivers. This was the third one that was sent. And out of all the three letters, this contained the most insanity inducing mentality. You highly doubt Guillaume will live a normal life after this concludes. Poor guy. Debt changes a person.

On the contrary, this bloodbath piques my interest. It’s not every day you get to investigate manslaughter. You feel like detective Heizou. No wonder he likes to run off towards danger.

Information about the gentleman assisting was only brief since I was to hurry to the site before the next day. “He was tall and built more alike a soldier. He also wore blue and black clothing. He never gave me his name…” Your thoughts had fiddled when he had told you, but a numbing pain seized your brain functions into hyper-focus.

You rub your temples, eyes focused on the route he marked on your map. Leg day has really been your everyday. Super exhausting.

Blood and skin drew ice as your breath hitched. Strangled cry, sharp inhale of breath, hands clawing at your neck and chin. Despair induced your vein. The scream intensified something inside you. Airways in the throat barely letting a breath passby. Water pools your eyes in distraught and pain. Glued to your spot, the ominous descending cave gurgled back shouts and thumps. Muttered curses escape as you try and hold your ground. Saliva formed in the clogged airways and raining down by your feet. This all felt like you were strangled, punched, and overall scoured all over, in charcoal.

If you had regretted anything in your sad life, it was this. Taking this commission. Talking to the distressed man. Stranger danger real. Regret for ever stopping by that village…and the regrets have only started.

The next thing you saw was pitch black.

************************

The weather these past few days has been horrid. Snow storm after the other piled the streets with 1 foot of snow. The roads and streets are accessible to your relief. How else would you be able to see your sweet boyfriend.

The chime of a café door rang as you entered hurriedly from the biting winds outdoors. You cupped your hands together and attempted to heat them up with your breath. The shop was quiet besides the old love songs and occasional emo rock songs playing from the speakers. Owl city was one of his most liked songs.

You perched on the counter ringing the small bell near the card scanner.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding—

“Okay. Okay, I hear every one of your calls Y/n.” He came out from the break room and leaned in from across the counter where you sat.

You smiled at Dainsleif. “How are you Dain! Was shoveling the snow all by your lonesome hard this morning?~”

He huffed. “It was fine. But next time you're accompanying me.” He grabbed your waist and dragged you over to the worker's side of the counter, swinging your legs around as well so you're still sitting.

“It’s still midday so let me make you a cup of something warm.”

You watch him, your elbow on your knee and chin in your palm. Dainsleif manages this café and is the best drink maker there is. He unintentionally shows off some skills when making them, that’s why many girls come here for the show. Not that he pays attention to.

“Kaeya has told me to indulge you in more romantic lines. Would you like to be humored?” Dainsleif brought the mixing bottle up to the side of his head and shook it thoroughly as a bartender would, while glancing up at you.

When he does that every time it makes you swoon on the inside just a little.

“Kaeya is a terrible influence. Which makes life more bearable.” You shoot Dain a small finger heart in which he stops for a while in confusion but recovers a few seconds after.

“What does it feel like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?” Dainsleif plops toppings into the drink, adding more of your favorite ones.

“Bleh, I’m the ONLY person in this whole building, try again.” You kick your legs a bit, secretly enjoying these terribly cheesy pickup lines he always stores for you.

“Hm. If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He achieved a faint breathy laugh from you, you argued that it was just because it was so so old and overused.

He snapped the lid onto the steaming cup and walked back to you handing it over.

He hesitated on his next line as you blew on the liquid through the hole and took a nice warm sip. It melted your insides in warmth.

So did the pickup line.

“Just wondering if your lips taste as good as they look.” Dainsleif’s eyes were awkwardly averted, wondering how you would react.

But you sat there, mouth agape, ears flushed from the pickup line. “Didn’t expect that one.” You mumbled into the cup, eyes unfocused staring at your favorite toppings floating to the top.

Dain carefully placed both hands on either side of your thighs. “...it wasn’t answered.”

Your eyes tilt up from the drink sitting on your lips. “It wasn’t a question.”

Your rebuttal made Dain purse his lip, which you intensely stared at. “Then….may I kiss you?”

Your inner thoughts were racing, the reflex of wanting to push him away was itching, but the thought of a kiss sent you into a spiral. It’s not like you haven't kissed before, you have…a rare few times.

“Aha ha, ah uhm. Get out of that ugly sweater first then we’ll talk.” You jab one finger into his chest only pushing him away by a few inches.

Both of you are terrible at this romance thing that's why it's so awkward to initiate. You back out of close contact, and only stick to flirting, and he spews pickup lines he learns from Kaeya because he’s confused about love but also respects your boundaries. All your friends suffer seeing this awkward couple at group gatherings.

“What’s wrong with my sweater?” He pulls the sweater and looks down. He wore a black shirt and over that was a black-green-brown button-up sweater, adorned with pictures of owls, bears, acorns, trees, and bushes. Very nature-y for your star-loving boyfriend. But honestly, it looked like it was made for a grandpa on a chilly evening stroll.

“The nature documentary show would like its background back.” You wheeze at Dain’s blank-faced reaction, so done with you, but he’s never over you.

Dain gently sneaked a kiss on your cheek to satisfy himself with your stunned silence cutting off any jokes lining up your defense.

He backed away from the counter and took his jacket off a hook ready to depart with you. “Our friends are waiting. Let’s head out now, I bet they are frozen solid outside since I was supposed to supply the hot drinks.”

That caused you to snap back as you cackled at Hutao, Yelan, Heizou, Tighnari, and the rest, chilled to the bone buried in the deep snow. You latch onto Dainsleif’s sleeve slipping your hand into his warm pocket and holding his curled-up thumb and pointer finger. “Let’s go wifey! Onwards to the ice sculptures!!”

*********************

The darkness had enraptured you at every turn, you didn’t know if you were sitting down, laying down or even face down digging into the dark ground. Your senses were so hazed and really failed you more than normal today.

“I always knew this is what hell was like. Dark cold and numbing on my ass.” Your voice was meek and raspy but they held the same sharp tongue you brought.

A breath hitched when you spoke. So you weren’t alone, in relief your body sunk from its tension. “This place would most likely be a hell. But it's all been cleaned up now..” The voice gave you a tingling feel, almost familiar if not for your impaired and dazed hearing.

“Whoes,” Your words have slurred with the throbbing of your head, a light pressure stroking it, not sure if it was your hand or the other persons. “I didn’t want you to see this mess. Also because that thing on your head is a protection of sorts.” Your mind was too out of it to immediately process his information.

“Was I drugged and potato sacked. I still can’t feel my ass.” The voice had an airy chuckle which echoed through the space. It must be a cave, orrr the internal abyss of the hell he called.

“Well that’s because you fell on a large sharp rock when I first saw you near the cave entrance.” Ah. made sense. “Once your senses are back and you start wiggling around, will I free you.” That made you suspect you were tied down somewhere. You just hoped it was spacious and clean enough so you could indeed roll around.

A sound of shuffled occured after a while and the footsteps faded, assuming that the person beside you had left the area. Once he came back it would be war against his, oddly pretty voiced most likely pretty man. How dare he potato sack you.

Fingers twitching to life, you didn’t know how many hours were spent on body recovery. The crackles of your bones that were stiff the entire night bounced off the walls. You could now feel that your body was in fact laying down, fabric carpeting you.

Footfalls came steadily back in your direction. “I knew you’d come back to me mysterious man” The tugging of the fabric around your head lead to pangs of sense recovery. You hear much more sensitively after being blocked for so long. The fabric finally coming around to uncover your eyes. Vision still impaired as the lights and darkness desperately tried to balance out. The haze in your eyes remains an issue even when the smell of the fabric was soothing.

A blur of a hand reached out to you, which you took graciously, limp as they were. You were hauled up to him as he held you close to steady your shaky body. “Get used to walking. Then we will scour the rest of the cave.” his voice sent a chill covering your spine, it was very nice.

Head limp on his chest you could see his black and blue fitted outfit. Even knowing you were short, his shoulder was still higher than your whole height. Plus the glimpse of a sword by their belt drew you to a hazy conclusion. He was the gentleman you were looking for.

However, a sense of dread and conflicting longing rang off in your ears from never ever wanting to look up into his face. So you did just that.

Your head stayed pressed against his chest as you figured out how to move the limbs helplessly called legs. Every time your legs wobbled too much, he would grab onto your waist to steady you. And every time you clutch onto his shirt too tightly in nerves rattling, he would pat your shoulder and let you put your feet on his so he could walk for you. Hours have passed and you got the hang of your body, with a little shake you managed to walk from one wall to the other.

“Pardon me for asking but, why am I so disabled like this in the first place?” Your voice was quiet but steady, unlike the time you talked when just waking up to potential hell.

“And in all fairness, you could’ve left me to disintegrate and die. Would’ve been better. Instead of nursing me.” You forcefully mumbled that out in a murmur. And you ready didn’t have to look up at the man’s face to feel the intensity of a sharp glare for a reason unknown.

Pacing in large circles and looking down to watch your feet, the man stood at the doorway. “It was close the time to midnight. The smell radiating off the cave entrance bewitched you and destroyed you. It closed off your nerves. I had prepared something beforehand to help elevate this phenomenon, which was the fabric I wrapped around you, acting as a cocoon. I then brought you inside, took care of the dangers lurking, and...secured the premise.” He failed to mask his hesitation on hidden information, due to what he knows about this situation than you do. You slowly nodded as you stare at his shoes, intimidatingly facing you.

“This cave is enormously large. Would you like to venture through the tunnels. If your legs are up for it. I won’t leave your side, case you fall and never get back up.” His words couldn’t help but put a sting in your heart while chasing it faster. And you who inadvertently let his attempted joke pass your head.

You nodded again which you could only do with a swift tilt up to not disclose your obvious hiding.

The gentleman luckily leads you, tailing behind clutching a corner of his cloak. It gave you more leverage to see more since he covered his own face from you since he’s tall.

As you both moved around the dirt-painted halls, the tunneling seemed handmade instead of natural. Claw marks etched into the surfaces, the ones on the wall grow even deeper and bigger the more your trembling legs take you down the hall. Some openings that led to other rooms littered the narrow tunnels, they were all empty and vacant. The only signs of life once in the rooms were the many elemental traces and or scratches from either weapons or nails. A dark murkiness painted the walls and floor—not wanting to ever know what it really is—but the stench that followed was hazy and metallic. The winding tunnels seemed endless. No wonder people came to be insane down here.

As your thoughts subsided, so did the unending tunnel.

A much broader room greeted you ahead. It must have been Guillaume’s place of residence. Half the room was bookshelves, scrawled-up papers, and scrunched-up scrolls, a large desk faced the other side, ink spilled from the table to the opposing wall. The vacant space looked more than inhabited, save for the etchings on every inch of the wall, ceiling, and floor surfaces. Many drew blanks, symbols, and incomprehensible languages. Stars were the most repeated shape. You didn’t know when you had let go of the man’s cloak, since you were too drawn to the walls of Guillaume’s self-asylum.

Your digits brushed some of the symbols, they curved neatly and were well-written. And familiar. One symbol you could read was—Cataclysm.

The jolt of electricity from touching those words provoked you to snap your neck to…

The man who stood in the same spot you left him before you let go. Him who watched you mindlessly draw your finger against the carved wall trying to work your brain. Him who—walking through the hallway—peered behind when you weren’t noticing, gauging your reactions. Him who, had to do a double take when he first saw you on the outskirts of the cave.

Dainsleif who,

missed you dearly.

Who always speculated if you were alive or not.

. . .

Traveling to Fontaine was genuinely; the WORST choice you could have ever done.

“Fuck.”

You really didn’t want to do this ontop of every other terrible occurrence this night. Your brain couldn't, hence the deep crease in your brow following your pained expression too well. All your senses weakened from your mentally solely. You knew him. You recognize him. You liked him.

But you hate him.

Many years of your continuous mental and physical health checkups, insomnia plaguing your attempted sleep, unresolved hatred. All to shield yourself against this man. To conceal the centuries with him.

Now all in vain. Crumbling beneath your feet at this very dreaded moment. The way your vision blurs, the shakiness in your foothold, your clammy hands, throat strained, all in response to a simple unimaginable presence.

The one presence your heart missed dearly. Your legs told you to run. To a remote place. But he blocked that path. As he did before, once again stuck in this in-between.

One step. Another.

A predicament you had placed yourself in. The wall that soothed your back has never felt as cold as it did now. How you would rather it envelop you into those eerie symbols. Engraving you to the mystery of the universe.

He was one step away now. Galaxy eyes bore into your evading ones. “Y/n…”

You refused his beckoning. But that wouldn’t make him leave. It wouldn’t get him to disappear from your existence. It only hurts more now that you know he is alive and healthy.

“umh. If we’re done here, then I have things to do somewhere else.” You burned your eyes anywhere else but near him. He couldn’t escape the slight view you had of him at the corners of your sight. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out to you, to find that once solace you gave him.

“Avoiding me won’t get you anywhere. I thought you weren’t one for not returning favors. I saved your life. Don’t you owe me something?” You scoff. It repulsed you on how observant he is of you.

“I had a dream with you in it. It was in a different world where we were… Happy together. I wish I was in that world currently instead of this shit.” The words you spewed were venomous, if not for the slightly fond tone you laced in. Dainsleif’s face contorted, he was now glad you refused his eye contact, for his eyes downturned in remorse.

Remorse; that's all he ever felt towards you for many centuries when you were apart. And the times when remorse wasn't present, he was deeply coated in affection for you. Those, however, were in the early childhood days. Too far gone in the past.

“I’m sorry I can’t live up to those expectations.”

“But now you have to repay me. …And forgive me.” His firm but gentle hold on your chin forced eye contact. His blue eyes shone with the diamond in them; just like how your eyes sparked with that diamond. His words however gave you the will to slap his hand away.

“You think apologies will reconnect us? After all those fucking centuries? Those actions were effectuated by you!! You festered this effect upon me! How could I ever, ever!! forgive your inapt causes?! You’re VILE!” You ended up hitting his chest and shoving him away which sent him 6 feet apart. He took every physical contact from you, the sting was apparent and long-lasting.

Your unquenched fury bubbled to the brim. And you now approached the silent man. Your hand was now tight against his collar, the obvious trembling of his dismantled your voice in cracks. “What was the reason?! You should’ve kept me in that sword. After you fucking decimated everyone with me. Why the fuck would I ever want to live after all that. Everything and everybody was a mess. You the most.” The intensity of your diamond-shaped eyes never faltered.

You stepped back as the grip on his collar loosened. “Khaenri’ah’s downfall… Couldn’t even be saved by any form of guard..” Your mumble cast your gaze away from his unnerving eyes.

Silence blanketed the room, no thoughts were presented or conjured. You both just allowed the atmosphere to sink in, head empty beside the presence that would have normally set your heart racing. Not this time; nor ever.

“It’s past midnight right? I’ll take a nearby room to rest in.” You didn’t require his answer, so you left just as quickly. Leaving behind the downcasted remorse filled Dainsleif stiff in his spot where you left him.

*********************

Author notes-> Reshare’s and likes appreciated <3 I hope it was heart wrenching—so i can collect tears to my jar >:D

#genshin fic #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #angst #slow burn #mystery #khaenri'ah #genshin lore #Fall of khaenri'ah #Mutual pining #Hurt no comfort #abyss order #rhinedottir #genshin au #genshin plot #Royal guard dainsleif #astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin dainsleif

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