i reread my old wip for dgs2 and i realize that i actually really like it and might want to start another wip for it? but like. i cannot emphasize enough that there is simply no time for me to write it 😭 i'm also honestly barely compelled by writing fanfiction anymore... end of an era i suppose

The One Where Jensen Ackles Confirmed Cockles in 2016(????) No. Seriously. For real.

this is a DOOZY. strap in folks.

DISCLAIMER: this is chock full of rps. if you are against cockles/jenmish in any way, this post is not for you. however, if you’re like me, ummmmm...

alright. so. we are REALLY in it now, cockles truthers. and make no mistake, i DO NOT want to undersell the significance of what we have found on this glorious day in 2021.

BUT HEY! DISCLAIMER FIRST, THOUGH IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING! do not EVER bring this to jensen and misha’s attention. do not comment disrespectful things on social media. when cons/panels start again, don’t ask them questions about it. ever!!! that’s super weird, for one thing, and for two, they won’t give you the answer you want anyway! so, yeah. just be decent, y’all. let’s continue. 

so my dear mutual @green-blue-heller made this post today and i promptly lost my mind. in it, they link this video:

as far as i can tell, it’s from VegasCon 2016 but was only unprivated on january 24, 2020(dean winchester’s birthday??? wow ok) for some reason, and we have overlooked it until now. to whoever it was that posted it, THANK you for my reason for being and this delayed gratification five years later. anyway, let’s get into it.

right off the bat, those expressions in the thumbnail kind of tell you all you need to know about what we’re venturing into. i have to thank BOTH jensen AND j*red for being ridiculously transparent. i mean...j*red purposefully avoiding eye contact with jensen and looking at the ceiling with his eyebrows raised sky high? jensen hiding his face in his hands, smiling and blushing like a fool, the misha face™ & grin???

so let’s break down what happens with timestamps and everything.

so! i looked up what the question was, i scoured through the entire Vegas Con video, and here it is:

‘My question is for Jensen and Jared. You guys are both happily married, and I noticed that many people had a hard time explaining how they know their significant other is the one. The one they want to spend the rest of their life with, the one that they want to be with, and so, I wanted to ask you guys, how did you know that your current- who you’re with now(audience laughter cuts the rest of the question off and it’s unintelligible)’ ….i’m solidly guessing that the end of that question boils down to ‘was the one’. (....i...uhhhh....have some thoughts on how this question affected jensen, and i will be going into them later.)

Jared: *laughs* Jared, Jensen. When did you first meet your future ex-wives?

*both of them laugh*

Jared: I’m just kidding-I get what you’re trying to say and thank you, um...I, uh, I guess my current wife, uh-

*both laugh again*

Jensen: (sarcastically) Let’s start with her.

Jared: (repeats) Let’s start with her. I, uh, I...you said something kinda, uh, amazing in your question, which is that a lot of people have a tough time or a difficult time explaining to their significant others or to themselves what it is. And I guess I feel that I have no way to possibly explain it to myself or to her... I remember that I had been in a relationship and that I was single and I was like ‘I am not interested in getting in a relationship’ and then she and I went on a date and I was like, ‘I can’t go anywhere else. I’m not interested.’ So, that was kinda what, um, what started it for me *clears throat loudly* Uh. Yeah, I just feel like (searching for words) she makes me a better person-there are a lot of people that make you a better person, and so that’s not enough, I don’t think-or maybe it is, who knows-um...I don’t know, I can’t really...if I could explain, I’d be a poet.

here’s where things start to get interesting. before jared says ‘If I could explain, I’d be a poet,’ Jensen’s face looks like this:

stoic, thoughtful, composed. and then AFTER jared says that his face makes THIS little journey:

go watch it for yourself. this man is ridiculous. in terms of body language? he gazes up and AWAY from jared. it is a private thought, he is not sharing in jared’s joke with him, if at all. it is his own personal musings that make his face LIGHT up like that. this fool looks lovestruck!!! this fool is lovestruck!!!

now, i think it goes without saying, but there is an obvious cockles reason that springs to mind for this reaction. (hint: misha is a poet. that’s it, that’s the reason.) i don’t think jared intentionally said this with misha in mind, but jensen’s thoughts IMMEDIATELY went there. whether or not this is because he was already planning on answering and hinting at his relationship with misha before jared says this, which i think he was-you can certainly see the wheels turning in jensen’s head before this moment-his brain involuntarily makes the connection and it shows in his glowing smile. after that remark...jensen’s gone. he’s whipped. and he HAS to say something about it. 

continuing from where we left off:

Jared: ...and I would love to be a poet. (thought it would be fun to mention that at this point Jensen catches what his face did and immediately looks over to Jared and WIPES the expression of his face...but it’s too late, because someone recorded it, i saw it, and now i’m writing about it five years later)

Jared: But uhh…

Jensen: (interrupting) Just tap me when you want me to take over. 

i think that jensen is simultaneously joking and is also more than ready to say what he’s been composing in his head diligently for the last thirty or so seconds. he has made up his mind, and is now ready to drop the bomb on us.

*audience laughs, Jared playfully swats at him*

Jared: Uh… *thinks in silence for a bit* It’s really difficult, it’s really difficult. She makes me feel safe, she makes me feel loved. Uh...when...I’m in a position where I don’t love myself, I know she loves me, you know, um...she’s just an awesome, awesome lady.

*audience claps*

alright! so in terms of my OWN analysis for what’s happened up until this point, the conclusion i have come to is that there was something in the question that was asked that sets jensen’s mind off about misha, and i think it was the ‘the one’ comment. if we’re putting our cockles goggles on, jensen doesn’t HAVE a ‘the one’. he resents thinking like that. i’m also very intuitive, and i get a sense that jensen is an honest person and can’t really tell a convincing lie. i mean...we all saw that horrible airbnb debacle, right? and his slip up when he accidentally confirms that misha woke up and said ‘i miss (maison)’[which how would you know that unless you were...nvm] and became a stammering mess and had to sit down and cover his face. and that misha is always the one to take the lead when it comes to denying clothes sharing, for instance. jensen has never ONCE attempted to explain that away, because i don’t think anyone would believe him, and i think he’s incapable of doing so because he’s not a dishonest person and can’t lie easily. i’m the same way, so to avoid telling a lie i always speak partial truths, and i’m 99% sure jensen is well versed in this talent as well. oh, also, just to really land my point....we all know how he feels about the finale because he can’t make himself speak well on it. he’ll gush about 15x18 and the PEOPLE BEHIND the finale, but he has not uttered one. positive. word. about the actual finale itself. i mean, we all know what he thinks about it. in his own way, he has made his rage glaringly obvious. and i think he’s doing that exact thing here, where he resents the implication that daneel is the only ‘one’ for him, because that’s simply not true, and he can’t and won’t lie about something like that. 

i watched it back again and wrote notes on jensen’s body language as he’s processing the question. here they are:

from 0:13 to 1:21, jensen: 

looks down - tenses face - searching eyes, lost in thought - jared’s comment brings him out of it but it takes a second - fidgets, adjusts clothes, looks at jared - bites the inside of his cheeks and moves tongue around his mouth(pacifying gesture) - eyes start wandering away from jared, looks down and tenses face, looks back at jared - then looks away, eyes and mind far from the panel and pondering the question itself - somewhat wistful expression, gears clearly turning in his head, lips pursed, stops reacting to what jared is saying, fingers start fidgeting, eyes have moved downward as he is lost in thought - something shifts in his brain, he looks to the ceiling, fidgets and adjusts his clothing, squints and seems to resolve an inner thought - slightly comes back down to earth with newfound resolution - and then jared’s ‘i would be a poet’ comment happens while he’s coming down from that

i mean, this obviously doesn’t necessarily mean anything huge(yet), all it shows is that this question took a lot of thinking for him. when you compare it to how jared kind of just dove in? 

anyway; so then jared’s done, he slaps jensen’s thigh to indicate it’s his turn, jensen makes THAT face you see in the thumbnail, jared’s eyebrows raise, jensen looks down and scratches his forehead, and then makes the statement of a lifetime. 

here’s the link for this next part

Jensen: Ummm..I kind of feel like there’s two types of people ..uh..in regards to marriage and the, the one. Uh, it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you. And, I kind of find myself in between both of those(...types of people). And uh, and so, it can be a scary endeavour, and it can, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, um, but I think it’s a, uh, it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey that, uh, if you’re willing to stick it out with one another, can be an amazing, beautiful thing and I’m glad that I picked the partner and the teammate that I have, so.

i’ll give you like a second to recuperate before we dig in. 

let’s start with both jared and jensen’s body language first, because it wasn’t even the words that clued me in, it was whatever the hell was going on with jared’s face. 

i really wish i could gif, but i can only attempt to convey the SPEED and VIGOUR with which jared snaps his head toward jensen. 

these pictures are objectively hilarious because you can see the entire mental journey that jared goes on. he was aloof and kind of relaxed because he was done, it’s jensen’s turn now, he’s surely not gonna out himself with this question right? and then jensen goes ahead and says ‘there are two-’ and jared instantly zones right into jensen with a look of horror on his face, that he tries to contain, but does so unsuccessfully. that is the face of a man who is internally freaking out, thought to himself ‘did he seriously just say...’ and is kind of staring at the culprit in shock and awe.

i know that’s what’s happening, because this is not the first time we’ve seen him react like this to something jensen has said. the classic head whip. a few examples, just off the top of my head:

1. ‘he has, hasn’t he?’ 

2. ‘he sounds like that in the morning’ ‘how do you know’ 

3. when he whips his head around when he notices jensen’s face(and instantly understands when he realizes it’s misha)

so yeah, i’m sure you get it by now. jared can’t really keep it off of his face. there’s no real analyzing to be done here...it’s just an obvious tell on his part. there’s no real reason for him to have reacted this way if jensen was saying something inconspicuous, is there? he would have continued to just kind of space out if jensen hadn’t just said something jarringly questionable. 

as for jensen’s body language, i can’t really tell where he’s looking from either angle of both videos i’ve seen. sometimes it seems like he’s looking straight at jared, and maybe nods at him once, but he could also(and is most likely) looking at the fan who asked the question. i don’t think there’s anything particularly telling about his body language because i think he rehearsed his answer in his head and also, he’s not shying away because he’s not lying about anything. like...everything he’s saying is true, so he’s not going to have any tells. and it’s the fact that he is TELLING THE TRUTH that is freaking jared out.

now for what he actually says. because oh my god. 

right off the bat, he says “i kind of feel like there’s two types of people..” and first off, what? what does that even mean? if you think of it in terms of ‘this is about daneel and only daneel’....isn’t this a realllyyyyy strange thing to start out with? objectively? the question that was asked to him was ‘how did you know they were the one?’ and he goes ‘actually there’s TWO types of people’ ...like, jensen never answers the question at hand. 

and then he goes “in regards to marriage and the one”. i hope i’m not the only one who noticed he said the words ‘the one’ in a resentful and kind of degrading tone? seriously, listen to it again. he seems like he’s almost mocking that sentiment. i swear i’m not making it up, it really sounds like that to me. 

and then he says “-it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you.” *NON TINHAT VERSION OF EVENTS* what he could mean, i guess, is he was both scared to be with daneel but also knew she was the one for him. which....ok. alright. *TINHAT BACK ON* first off, there’s absolutely no risk with daneel. that’s not a judgement, because i love her; it’s just true. she’s a pretty, talented, amazing woman and they are very much in love. i’m not sure what risks he’s taking there. next up: pretty strange wording then, don’t you think? idk, if it were you, and you wanted to get that point across, wouldn’t you use words like ‘she both scared me and i knew i wanted to be with her at the same time’ and NOT this convoluted mess of ‘there’s two types of people and they are both drastically different but also one and the same’? 

SECOND OF ALL, as many people have pointed out.....he never uses pronouns. this is strange. jared does. jared says gen’s name, even. and uses ‘she’ and ‘her’. jensen never once does that, he practically refuses to do so. and yes, i fully believe it is entirely intentional.

because if you look at this phrase from a cockles lens it makes more sense then if you do not. 

the one that jensen knows, unequivocally, with the utmost certainty, is the one for him, no doubts, no risks; is daneel. the one that he doesn’t know about, is scared of being with, but is willing to take that leap of faith anyway; is misha. and all of a sudden the puzzle pieces fall into place.

because he goes on to say “I kind of find myself in between both of those.” 

he doesn’t say ‘i find myself in between both of those...with her.’ nope. he’s just...in between. caught in the middle. of those two types of people. translation: of those two people. mish. dee. 

“And it can be a scary endeavour, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, but I think it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey...” 

every single one of those words can be applied to more than one person. think about it. bond(between three people). connection(between three people). friendship(between three people!!!). there’s no ‘partnership’ in here, which does only apply to two people. 

lastly, “i’m glad i picked the partner and the teammate that i have.”

ok, look. you can easily say that it’s just one person he’s talking about here! of course you can. but this is jensen ackles we’re talking about. jensen ‘rock and pebble’ ackles. jensen ‘mish. dee.’ ackles. so yes. i definitely think that ‘the partner and the teammate’ fall into this category. and i think daneel is the partner and misha is the teammate. 

to put it matter-of-factly: you simply cannot prove that this isn’t about a poly relationship. there is absolutely nothing he says that makes it obvious he is talking about one person here. because he isn’t. 

i just feel like, in the simplest terms, if this were about only daneel, that he would not be using these weird phrases that are half-hidden truths. just to compare, i watched another panel where pretty much the exact same question was asked, minus the whole ‘the one’ debacle, and, just as i suspected, it was an entirely different answer. he talks about the moment where he knew he liked her. her, specifically. says the name daneel. gushes about her. there’s no tiptoeing and weird pronoun usage and vague terminology. 

tl; dr : i think he answered the question this way because there is no ‘the one’ in his life. and he is physically incapable of leaving misha out when talking about ‘the one’ because he has TWO ‘the ones’. and he wants to answer the question to the best of his best ability, but lying is unnatural to him. he will talk about daneel at length and misha at length, but i honestly to my core don’t think you could make him choose between the two. oh! and we literally had confirmation all the way back in fucking 2016, we just never paid attention until now. so......thanks, jensen?

sorry, this got super long, but i hope i warned you well enough. 

“Little Joy”

(Some, uh, Fethsteel (and a bit Magicstone)...for your enjoyment...)

(Can be read as friendship or more. Whatever suits you, buddy.)

(Actually, this applies to all my other works involving any appropriate relationship, e.g. Alistarling, Baffy...)

(Also...Perhaps extremely out-of-character...I have never worked with these characters...(except Fethry, who...may also be OOC)) 

———————————————————————

“T-thank you s-so much for t-tagging along...”

Fethry said to the hulking rooster walking next to him. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking away from his companion.

“I-it m-must be so embarrassing f-for you to be d-doing such c-childish activity...”

Steelbeak smiled at the shorter duck, patting him on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I enjoyed it.”

——————————————————————

On a spring morning, Fethry Duck and Steelbeak went to the beaches of Duckburg for clam digging.

As early as two weeks ago, Fethry had asked Steelbeak out for harvesting clams together. It was an annual event for Fethry, but a fresh new one for Steelbeak. After all, why would a F.O.W.L. agent have the time (and passion) to do such harmless stuff?

Two weeks ago, Fethry was anxiously on his phone, constantly looking back to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Countless thoughts invaded his mind while the phone beeped: Will he be busy? Does he work on Saturdays? Will he be...planning to attack his family on that day?

When his new friend picked up the call, Fethry told him his proposal, asking him whether he would be free for a clam digging day (with heavy, heavy stuttering, of course). Fethry’s ears were too red to clearly hear if the recipient agreed to hang out. He didn’t even know if his friend could hear what the event was about, given his serious stutters. It wasn’t until the rooster showed up at the shores of Duckburg that Fethry knew his friends really did listen to and accept his invitation.

For the first time in a decade, Fethry had someone to accompany him on his silly little annual activity.

And so, two adults spent a Saturday  morning on the muddy ground, along with many families around them. The beach was filled with the laughter of children, while the duo silently collected one clam after another.

But for Fethry, his heart was bumping loudly. Every time he heard children laughing, or saw children running across the beach barefoot, Fethry felt a bit more regretful, blaming himself for inviting Steelbeak to this idiotic event. He was a secret agent of F.O.W.L.! Feared, cruel, malevolent! How much pride did Steelbeak swallow for his friend? How much of his image did he risk being tainted by accepting his friend’s request?

Not to mention the tired expression clearly visible in Steelbeak’s eyes. He must be a night person. It wasn’t a surprise. He was the one to act in the shadows, after all. But Fethry further chastised himself for being inconsiderate.

Although Steelbeak was wearing a smile with his shovel in hand, Fethry couldn’t help but feel deeply guilty.

——————————————————————

An hour later, the duo left the beaches with a small net of clams. The shells clanked against each other, producing clicking sounds in addition to the two pairs of footsteps.

Although both of them weren’t the talkative type, Fethry felt rather nervous for the lack of conversations in the morning. He rubbed the locks of hair sticking out of his stocking cap with his right thumb and index finger, while holding the bag of clams close to his body with his other hand. He took a peek at his partner: Steelbeak wasn’t frowning or sulking, but Fethry still felt uncomfortable in his heart. Was he embarrassed? Was he mad? Fethry looked down at the pebbled plaza floor, biting his lower lips.

Then he suddenly stopped.

Steelbeak quickly noticed his friend staying behind, and turned around to see what’s wrong. Fethry held his head down, eyes darting everywhere but Steelbeak’s line of vision.

Before Steelbeak could ask, Fethry had mumbled his concerns.

“I...I am so sorry, Steely...” Fethry muttered, just loud enough for Steelbeak to hear.

“W-what’s wrong?” Steelbeak was surprised by his friend’s sudden apology. He had no much social experience than Fethry had. Was it something he had done wrong?

“I was so s-selfish...I j-just wanted someone to accompany m-me for once, b-but I only thought for m-myself...You d-don’t like c-clam digging at all, d-do you? You h-hadn’t t-tried i-it because you d-don’t like it...” Fethry started to whimper, holding the clams even closer to himself.

“I humiliated you...Embarrassed you...J-just because I w-wanted s-someone to accompany me...You don’t even have your disguise on!”

It was true. Steelbeak right now was only wearing a t-shirt with a nylon jacket for torso, a pair of sports trousers and sports shoes for legs and feet. His face was entirely exposed, including his abnormal metal beak.

This was the first time the secret agent hanged out with his friend without wearing incognito. And it was Fethry who encouraged him to do so. Despite knowing his position, Fethry believed one should feel no shame for being in the public. But for Steelbeak to go undisguised holding a colourful shovel, searching for clams with a bunch of kids around? Fethry suddenly felt how hard it had to be for Steelbeak to comply.

Although he was supposed to be a “secret” agent, meaning no one should know he was a member of a criminal mastermind organisation, nobody knew for sure whether anyone would recognise Steelbeak. At the very least, his beak would arouse a certain level of suspicion.

“I am so sorry...I am so sorry...” Fethry did his best to hold back tears, despite feeling extremely regretful for hurting his new friend. Who accepted his invitation. An invitation not even his dear cousin Donald would accept.

Steelbeak got down to Fethry’s level with a warm smile. “I enjoyed it. Really.”

Fethry blinked a few times, before slowly raising his head to look at the smiling rooster.

“I hadn’t tried anything like that, but it was fun. Let’s do it again sometimes,  okay?”

“You...don’t think it was...silly...?” Fethry looked at the should-be menacing rooster, doubting the agent collecting intel in an enemy base would be down to collecting clams on a beach.

“It was silly, but I like it. Feth, you know...Ever since I got...this job, I hadn’t taken up any hobby. I hadn’t had any fun. Until I met you, and you introduced me to so many activities.”

It was Steelbeak’s turn to look away, while Fethry tilted his head curiously.

“I...uh...had a lot of fun...Thanks, Feth...”

Though a bit awkward, Fethry still felt his heart soothed by Steelbeak’s words of gratitude. Steelbeak must be the type who seldom show much emotions to others. He probably hadn’t thanked anyone before meeting Fethry, whether he felt grateful or not.

“Besides...” Steelbeak attempted to pull off his suave, yet intimidating persona. “You promised me a clam chowder meal, didn’t you? Hm?” But to put up this obviously fake facade in front of his genuine friend, even the rooster laughed at himself.

Fethry regained his smile, nodding his head cheerfully. “O-of course, Steely!”

Then his heart again bumped faster when he thought of another concern.

“I am g-glad you are having f-fun too, b-but...w-what if p-people find out about y-you? W-would I be...affecting your...c-career...?” His eyes looked up at the tall rooster,  fingers fidgeting together shyly.

Steelbeak let out a chuckle, whispering to his friend. “Don’t worry, Feth. I am a ‘secret’ agent, remember? No one knows who I am! And...”

Steelbeak paused for a while, trying to phase his words without offending his friend. Fethry seemed to guess what Steelbeak was implying, and showed that he was listening with a smile.

“You...uh, aren’t a prominent member of the McDuck family, are you? I mean...not many people know you are the nephew of Scrooge, right? Unlike that ‘Donald’ guy, or the kids...”

“I...I mean it in a good way! So there won’t be any trouble for you too! My colleagues may not be so happy with me befriending a McDuck relative...” Steelbeak rubbed his shoulder nervously, thinking how their relationship may hurt not only himself, but also Fethry.

“It’s alright.” Fethry reassured Steelbeak. “You are right. Nobody knows me. Nobody knows you. So we will be safe!”

——————————————————————

Of course, except his own family...

A startled honk suddenly emerged nearby in the plaza. The goose (or gander, to be exact) realised his mistake, and unwisely covered his beak, only for the action to produce another slapping sound, gaining more attention.

On the other hand, Fethry made another mistake looking at the source of the sound. When he realised he knew the person in question, he made yet another bad decision to call out his name, only to cover his beak too when he remembered he should not be with the person he was with in the first place.

And now, the two cousins looked at each other awkwardly, both wide-eyed and covering their mouths.

After a five-second awkward silence, Gladstone tried to break the ice with a wave and a sheepish smile.

“Heeeeey, Fethry...Good to see you...Hanging out with a friend...?” Gladstone tried to appear casual, but his rigid expression showed how uncomfortable he was.

Fethry replied with an even more nervous grin, and many rapid nods.

Gladstone continued, hoping to end the encounter as soon as possible. “Oh, great! And you are...?” Signalling Steelbeak. Of course Gladstone knew who he was. The goose was just giving the rooster criminal a chance to lie about his own identity, so as to let the matter slide. He believed the agent would be smart enough to know the cue. He’s the top agent in his association! Sure he knew how to deal with his cover being blown...

Oh, but Gladstone really should had looked at how red the face of the rooster was before trying...

Steelbeak lifted Fethry off the ground with his left hand, pinning him against his own body like a head-lock, while childishly pointing a finger gun at Fethry’s head with his right hand. Fethry yelped in surprise, but took extra care not to drop the bag of clams.

“D—d-d-don’t c-c-come c-c-closer, or...this innocent man g-g-gets it!” Steelbeak attempted to threaten Gladstone into leaving them alone, only to make the situation more and more awkward. The confused Gladstone looked as Steelbeak’s face got redder and redder, while Fethry’s cheeks also started to blush with embarrassment.

“S-S-Steely...P-p-please p-put me d-d-down...T-this is v-v-very embarrassing...” Fethry muttered softly. He knew his friend was doing an act to “help” them out of the problem, but he was too embarrassed to comply.

Steelbeak immediately let go of Fethry, afraid that he might hurt the fragile duck. Hopefully not many people were in the plaza. Only the goose in green witnessed the “kidnap attempt” with a puzzled smile.

Gladstone sighed, seeing how his cue had totally been missed. “Okay, Steelbeak. I won’t tell F.O.W.L. about this. Okay, Fethry. I won’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this. Just pretend nothing happened, m’kay?”

Both the rooster and the duck nodded without making eye contact, their faces still red.

Gladstone took a deep breath. “But what are you two doing together? Don’t tell me you are teaching lil’ Fethry bad things, hm?” He stared with only one eye opened, pointing a finger at Steelbeak, who shook his head and held his hands up in denial.

Fethry quickly explained. “N-n-no! I-I p-proposed the a-activity! Steely...uh, S-Steelbeak was just accompanying me...”

Fethry showed his cousin the clams they had collected. “L-look! We went clam digging!”

“I w-will be u-using these to make c-clam chowder...Y-you can j-join us too! Just p-please...D-don’t tell U-Uncle S-S-Scrooge about this...? He will...He will...”

Fethry was visibly trembling. Gladstone didn’t blame him. Scrooge could be very scary when furious. He put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder, showing a kind smile. “I promise, Fethry. I promise.”

“You take care of him, okay?” Gladstone turned to Steelbeak. Despite Gladstone being much shorter than he was, Steelbeak gulped at the fierceness in his eyes.

“Gladstone, I’m an adult now!” Fethry protested against his elder cousin for being treated like a child.

“Well, you don’t act like one.”

Steelbeak cut in during the cousins’ bickering. “Don’t worry, Mister...”

Gladstone politely tipped his hat. “Gander. Glad-“

“Yo, Gladdy! I brought popsicles!”

Just when the goose was introducing himself, someone called his (nick)name from behind. Just from the voice, Fethry and Steelbeak knew who she was, but not why she was calling Gladstone.

This time, Gladstone hid his reddened face behind his hat.

At least, both parties were equal now.

Magica looked at her friend with his cousin and her partner-in-crime (sort of) in confusion, but quickly shrugged it off.

“Hey, boys. What’s up?” Magica greeted the two with a grin, while the two replied by signalling Gladstone with eye movements.

Gladstone’s face was entirely inside his hat, the brim of which he grabbed tightly with both hands.

“Hello...?” Magica stared at her partner curiously, waving her free hand in front of his face.

“What happened?” She questioned the other two birds present, who answered with two shrugs.

Magica let out a sigh, before biting at her popsicle. “Well, eating or not, you are paying for yours.”

Gladstone slowly reached for his, holding it in his shaking hand. He put his hat back on, before slowly approaching Fethry with his head down.

“We’ll never speak of this day ever again...”

——————————————————————

“Wow! Fethry, that’s delicious!” Magica exclaimed at a dining table.

Fethry blushed slightly at the compliment. “T-t-thank you, Miss De Spell...”

“Just Magica will do.”

Inside a golden yacht, two white ducks, a rooster and a goose were at the dining table. Everyone had a bowl and a spoon, while a big pot of clam chowder was in the centre of the table.

“Told you Feth cooks nicely!” Steelbeak added with a smile, making Fethry chuckled shyly.

“A-all thanks to Gladstone lending us his yacht...” Fethry beamed at his cousin, who was drinking his soup silently.

“You...you’re welcome.” Gladstone uttered, before feeling someone nudging his arm lightly.

“See? Nothing wrong with hanging out! Your cousin is friends with a F.O.W.L. agent! You are just friends with a witch.” Magica shoved Gladstone with her elbow playfully. “Let’s hang out sometimes!”

“S-sure!” “Fine by me.” “Of...of course. Just...”

Gladstone looked at his cousin meekly.

“Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this...? He will pluck my feathers out...”

Fethry replied with a wide, cheerful smile.

“I promise, Gladdy! I promise!”

(16-12-2020 ~ 18-12-2020)

(Inspired by this screenshot of Steelbeak being adorable...sort of.)

Breath Control, Chapter Five

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand.

Warnings: mature content, cancer, cursing, alcohol use, etc, etc. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged:)

Please Enjoy, this one’s kind of long!! 

FIVE

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Everyone besides Rhys, me, and the few others who weren’t traveling was so busy preparing for the travel meet that I kind of shut myself down and ignored their excitement. I was treated to (or forced into, depending on the point of view) a few dinners with my ‘new group.’ Amren was a little intense but Cassian and Azriel were fun to be around. Mor was always there with something snarky to say to the boys and positive to me. And then there was Rhys. 

He appeared to embrace he whole broken-foot thing pretty quickly. He hadn’t hit that frighteningly somber mood since I’d picked him up early Monday afternoon. I hadn’t spent any time alone with him since then, either. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that his positivity was feigned for the sake of all his friends. Everyone was so excited to race the distant (quite good) team that it made it easy for him to take a backseat in the group discussions over dinner, or during weights, or after practice. He let them have their excitement, which showed the good in him. He never did a thing to take away from it. 

It was. . . easy to find my niche in the group. Something I’d never really had before. Tamlin and Ianthe had a tendency to bulldoze over those whom they spent time with. But despite the enormous personalities of my fledgling friends, I never felt forced to take the backseat and acquiesce to their whims. And I was reluctant to admit it, even to myself, but I was having fun spending time with them. It was nice to feel like I belonged somewhere. 

They had taken me in.

It was the only explanation for how quickly they started inviting me to their every gathering, every meal together. And a part of me was ashamed at needing the help, anxious over the fact that I hadn’t bounced into their group with the confidence of Mor and charmed them with my easygoing attitude. They’d taken the first few steps. But wasn’t that what teammates were supposed to do? Welcome anyone who needed a place to go?

That’s what they had done for me. 

The second the travel bus departed, though, I found myself alone with Rhys. It was up to me to escort him back to his place. And despite our week without any alone time, I couldn’t dispel the growing suspicion that Rhysand Night had a ‘crush’ on me. And it seemed as though he had been for a while. 

It made no sense, seeing as I’d joined the team and jumped into a relationship with Tamlin. I’d barely spoken to Rhys for the past year. And yet all his behavior over the past three weeks, the subtle hints I’d gleaned from Cassian and Azriel, Mor’s occasional pushes for us to spend time together, pointed to that being the truth. 

It had only been three weeks since Tamlin. I wasn’t ready for a new relationship. But it was flattering that someone else had feelings for me. Even if it made me twice as nervous to be spending virtually the entire weekend alone with Rhys. He’d need me to drive him everywhere, seeing as all of his other friends were gone until late Saturday night.

I followed him to my car a few minutes after the bus pulled out of the parking lot. He threw himself into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. We rode in silence. I was too nervous to start a conversation and the tension he was exuding didn’t help my nerves. Finally, as I pulled into his driveway at Astrid Oaks, he spoke.

“Is this it for me?” 

“What?” I asked, startled, putting the car in park and opening the driver’s side door.

He followed suit and I walked around the front of the car to meet him. I could have just dropped him off but the urge to see him into his house in one piece was too strong. “Has my broken foot just royally fucked up my career? I’m a junior, Feyre. The rest of this year’s season is ruined, most likely. I’ve only got a year left after this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be back in the water before Christmas training. People have recovered from worse injuries than this.”

“But what if I don’t?”

“Well I guess that’s your choice then. Whether you want to have a positive attitude or a negative one.”

He crutched past me up the short sidewalk to his front door. “Oh, just like you chose to give up these past few weeks and months and happily accept the fact that you didn’t make the travel team this weekend?”

He was mad and I knew it was because he had been deprived of something he was passionate about, passionate in the way most athletes should be about their sport. Going months without training could threaten a career, if not ruin it. And the drive for most athletes to keep training, keep pushing themselves to be the best they can be… It was strong. If something prevented an athlete from working toward their goals, it was felt like something akin to torture for that person. I knew. I’d torn my rotator cuff my freshman year of high school and I’d been like a caged tiger for the months it had taken to heal. But my understanding didn’t change the fact that he’d just lashed out at me for no reason.

What? “Whoa. Don’t make this about me.”

“Then don’t tell me that it’s ‘my choice’ then.”

“Hey, asshole, I’m just trying to help here. Sorry you have to deal with a setback for once.” I crossed my arms.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re always so damn confident!” I was shouting now, my hands thrown into the air at my sides. “I bet it sucks to have to deal with something that rattles your perfect, confident, sexy world!”

He smirked. I hated that smirk. “Sexy?” 

Oh fuck. 

“Nevermind that. You know what I mean! Welcome to my world. Shit happens. It sucks. You should have to deal with it for once in your life.”

“Let me tell you something, Feyre. I’ve been through some extremely difficult times so don’t act as though my life has been all rainbows and unicorns for the past twenty-one years. You don’t know me. And that’s a bullshit attitude to have and you know it. You just don’t want to have to deal with the fact that you wasted a year of your life on Tamlin Spring.” Even as the words left his mouth I could see that he regretted them. Nevertheless--

My mouth fell open. “Fuck you, Rhys.” 

He cringed. “Feyre, I’m so sorry. I didn’t--”

I held up my hands. “I’m leaving. I’ll pick you up tomorrow before practice. Don’t be late.” 

“Feyre--”

I slammed the car door behind me. How had I just messed this up? Not twenty minutes ago I’d been bidding Mor, Cassian, Az, and Amren farewell, overjoyed at the fact that they had welcomed me into their group. Now here I was shouting a bunch of bullshit that was really about myself at the person who had made joining that group possible in the first place.

I pulled my car up in front of my house and made a beeline for the door. Why’d I always have to go and mess things up? Everything Rhys had said was true, and everything I’d accused him of was true-- but not about him. About me. 

I’d be lucky if he forgave me. We’d only been friends for three weeks--probably not long enough to save our friendship.

Alone again. Couldn’t say I was surprised. 

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

Rhys and I managed to go all day Friday without speaking. I picked him up, dropped him off, didn’t see him throughout practice since he was just there for moral support, then dropped him at his place at the end of the day. A few times, it looked like he was going to say something, anything, to me.

But he always seemed to think better of it. By Saturday afternoon, though, after a particularly nasty three hour morning practice, made worse by the fact that only about ten people were left behind from the travel meet, I was sick of not talking to anyone. I’d spent several weeks moping about Tamlin and my life and the few days I’d spent with Rhy’s friends had made me realize how much better life was with friends who weren’t masquerading as assholes. I was willing to forgive him for what he’d said to me. He’d been in a bad place mentally, had lashed out. Shouldn’t I, of all people, understand what being in a bad mental state can do to your social life? I was the poster child for internalizing everything. Shutting people out. 

So I grabbed the only alcohol I had left in my place--a bottle of wine--and traipsed over to Rhys’s. I rang the doorbell. Why was I so damn nervous? 

The door swung open and I was met with the surprising sight of the most disheveled Rhys I’d ever seen. Sweatpants hung low on his hips, a grey undershirt stretched across his extremely muscular chest. How did he make pajamas look so hot?

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” He looked wary.

“I’m sick of having a. . . what did you call it? ‘Bullshit attitude’? Can we make up and drink already?” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “If I could get on my knees right now, I would, Feyre. I am so, so sorry for everything I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was upset and took it out on you and that was wrong--I don’t have a valid excuse.”

“Everything you said was accurate. How can I be mad about that? You’re the first person to ever call me out on something I need to recognize about myself and work to change. So let’s forget about it. We’re both off the travel team this weekend--let’s commiserate.”

He grinned, and it might have been the cutest/hottest grin I’d ever see a male human being make. I followed him through the townhouse to his living room, where he provided me with a mug and we slumped down onto the couch together.  

“So. . . how are you doing, considering the broken foot and all?”

---

We finished the bottle in an hour and I was feeling relaxed, to say the least. 

“What are your plans for Thanksgiving Break?” I asked him. He was sitting on one side of the couch, legs on the floor. My own legs were thrown over the arm of the couch, my head on the couch cushion, almost close enough to touch his thigh. 

“No plans. Mor got an internship (she’s crazy, I know) for the week and is flying halfway across the country to be there. Cas and Az and I usually just get really drunk Thanksgiving Day. None of us really have. . . parents.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t say that for you to pity me.”

I swatted his thigh. “I wasn’t pitying you.

He sighed.

“You could...

“You could come home for Thanksgiving with me. Elain’s already left for home. Nesta’s flying in directly from her last job. I’ll have to take the road trip by myself once they release us from training on Tuesday morning. . .” 

What was I saying? I’d been friends with this guy for three weeks. And yet even though a voice of reason was telling me I shouldn’t be inviting him to my family Thanksgiving, after our short-lived friendship, I couldn’t, wouldn’t stop myself. No matter that my relationship with my dad was poor and Nesta didn’t deal well with strangers. I wanted him there. The past day and a half we’d spent apart after seeing him every day for a week had been unbearable. Not only had my guilt eaten me up about the things I’d said to him. No. I’d missed him. His comforting, playful presence. His ability to tease me or call me out when I was being too dramatic about my situation. I wanted that around me. 

Admitting those thoughts scared the shit out of me. And yet apparently the wine dulled that terror enough that I felt brave enough to ask him to come to my childhood home and dine with my mess of a family. 

“Are you serious? You want me to come home with you for Thanksgiving.”

“Don’t make me rethink my offer.” I did my best to sound playful, sarcastic.

He laughed for my benefit. “Um, okay.”

“Cool.”

I ended up sleeping in Mor’s bed that night. And when I woke up the next morning I didn’t feel any regret at spending time with someone who had treated me more kindly than I thought I’d ever deserve. Rhys didn’t expect or demand anything from me other than friendship. He’d gotten me out of danger several times now and had never made himself unavailable if I needed to talk. He’d forgiven me when I’d said some unwarranted, mean things to him instead of holding it over my head for weeks to make me feel guilty. He’d let me sleep over at his place when I’d been so tired from the wine and the day’s training that I didn’t want to walk home. 

So this was what a genuinely nice guy was like.

And in that moment I decided to stop comparing him, or any other male I came across, to Tamlin.

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

The next few days passed without event. Everyone returned from the dual meet after an enormous victory, so spirits were high throughout the three days of Thanksgiving Break training we had. I actually enjoyed the brutal practices while swimming in a lane with Cassian and Mor. No matter how much pain we were in, Mor was always one of the girls shouting encouragement across the pool and Cassian never failed to have some sort of joke prepared for the worst moment of the main set.  Tuesday morning after practice I said farewell to my new friends (Mor threatened to kill me if I didn’t text her over the break) and was left alone with Rhys, in my driveway. 

It was a four hour drive to my hometown. Shouldn't be too awful, right?  

Rhys took his spot in the passenger side, I took the driver’s seat, and we were off.

Almost immediately, we got into an argument about the music selection.

“I want classic rock,” he insisted.

“I’m the driver and I want to listen to my November playlist, thank you very much.” I batted his hand away from my phone, which he was trying to steal from my lap while I was driving. 

“Well I’m the one with the crippled leg so I should be the one picking the music. You get to drive.”

“First of all, you are not crippled. Your foot is broken because you and Cassian were too busy being idiots to lift weights properly. Second of all, that is so not how it works and you know--hey!” 

He’d stolen my phone from my lap, his fingers brushing my thighs ever so slightly. His touch surprised me so much that I stopped arguing. That and the fact that he’d chosen to take it right as I merged onto a four lane highway, full of Thanksgiving travelers. I couldn’t steal it back.

“You don’t know my password,” I said through gritted teeth. Whether they were gritted because of how his touch made me feel or anger at my stolen phone, I didn’t want to puzzle out.

“Please. It’s probably your birthday.”

“Well you don’t know my birthday.”

“Please,” he said again.

A moment later and Metallica music issued from my speakers. “Dammit, Rhys! How do you know my birthday?” 

“How do you not like Metallica.”

“I don’t listen to Metallica and I prefer other things. Don’t judge my taste in music. Everyone has a weird taste in music.”

He shrugged and reclined his chair. 

“Can I have my phone back, please?” I changed my tone. Flirty usually got me somewhere, with Rhys.

He took the bait. Boys. So predictable. “What will you give me for it?”

I glanced at him, traffic too busy for me to take my eyes off the road for long. He looked at me, his gaze unwavering. 

I couldn’t hear the music anymore. “What is it you want, Rhys?” I asked quietly. 

He sat up at that. “I’m the one asking the questions here. I have all the power, Feyre Archeron. I control the MUSIC.”

The sounds of his rock music came flooding back in. “You’re a drama queen.” Yes, easy flirting was much easier than discovering what his answer to my question might be.

“If I’m the queen, you’re the king. I bet you’re milking that broken foot for all it’s worth: time off practice, personal chauffeurs to drive you everywhere, a free invite to Elain’s amazing Thanksgiving dinner.” I clicked my tongue. “I should leave you on the side of the road right now.” 

He changed his tone pretty quickly at that. “No, no, please.” He whined. It was kind of adorable.  “I’m sick of Thanksgiving with Cass and Az. We get takeout and drink beer. It’s not the same.” 

“Alright. You may now alternate the genre of music we listen to.” 

“Thank you, O Queen of Drama.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re welcome, prick.” 

His returning grin was one to rival every grin of every decent looking male in the history of all males. And I was pretty sure I was grinning right back. 

Approximately three and a half hours later, a mere thirty minutes from my childhood home, my car started sputtering. 

The drive had been fun, had gone by faster than any of my previous trips home ever had. Rhys had kept up a constant stream of entertainment. We’d discussed politics, books, art, team drama (of which there was plenty), our families. I’d tentatively asked Rhys about his parents and sister after I’d found myself explaining all of my family drama--Elain’s nasty breakup with Greyson, Nesta’s ice-cold exterior, and my father’s initial business success, followed by a period of failure, which had lasted most of my childhood, and his newfound riches. It had taken me months to explain everything to Tamlin. With Rhys, though, it all came spilling out.

“My mom died when I was a kid. Car accident. Drunk driver. My dad lives halfway across the world, in Hybern. I haven’t seen him in years.”

I knew he’d had a sister. I waited, unwilling to press.

“My sister… was diagnosed with cancer when I was sixteen. She was only twelve.” 

I’d had no idea.

His voice quieted. “It went pretty quick, actually. She was diagnosed, went straight into treatments, and. . .” He shook his head. “That was the worst thing to watch her go through. I couldn’t do anything except be there for her as she got sicker and sicker. It only took about six months before she. . . she passed away. Only about three months before I left for college. That’s when my dad moved away. There wasn’t anything holding us together after she died.” 

Only the music of my playlist issued softly from the speakers. 

“Tell me about her,” I had said softly. 

He blew out a breath. And he had. He’d told me about her love for volleyball and how she was so impossibly kind to everyone she’d ever met, including the doctors and nurses who’d cared for her during the worst of her sickness. He’d told me about how he’d been the one to teach her to ride a bike, and taken her for Friday night ice cream runs ever since he’d gotten his license. 

He was actually smiling at her memory when my car started making noises akin to the sound a drowning cat might make. 

“Shit,” I muttered. 

“I’m no mechanic, but I feel like you should pull over. How old is this hunk of junk, anyways?” 

“Shut up, we can’t all drive a Mercedes.” He held up his hands and followed me out of the car, despite my insistence that he should stay off his foot. In the end, I gave up on protesting because I didn’t know the first thing about cars, either.

We stood next to each other in front of the open hood a moment later.  

“Do you think it’s bad?” I asked a bit stupidly.

“Typically, Feyre darling, when smoke is billowing out of your car, it’s bad.”

I whacked his arm. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

He tugged on my ponytail. “You’re welcome, O Queen of the Stupid Question.” 

“I guess I’ll call Elain. Are you ready to meet my family?”

“I’m sure they’re less crazy than you. Can’t be that bad.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Elain told me she’d be there in thirty minutes and I ventured into the gas station to buy pretzels for the thirty minute wait. I found Rhys sitting on a bench in the shadows around a corner of the building. 

“Sorry this is happening,” I said, offering him the bag of pretzels. 

He took a few. “No need to apologize. This is already probably one of the best Thanksgiving breaks of my life.” 

I cocked an eyebrow. “Because you’re spending it with me, hmm?”

I’d expected an equally flirtatious answer. 

Instead, he looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Yes.”

I blinked. And blinked again.

“Can I have some more pretzels?” He asked as though he hadn’t just made the word “yes” sound more romantic than any declaration of love in any romantic comedy ever had.

A bit stunned, I brandished the bag of pretzels in his general direction. 

“Don’t go getting a big head, Feyre darling. Your company could become insufferable at any moment.”

I kept staring at him. That one word has surprised me so much, considering it didn’t mean much. Didn’t it? 

He reached up and brushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes. “I am serious, you know.”

Okay so he definitely liked me. That was the conclusion my brain had drawn. It had only been a month since Tamlin. . . But Rhys was. . . Amazingly kind. And funny. And fun to be around. And he’d been there for me. I wasn’t ready for anything. I couldn’t be. A month? I could hear the team whispering “slut” and “whore” and “cheater” if word got out that I’d jumped from Tamlin to Rhys in such a short period of time. Not to mention the added drama when Rhys and Tamlin’s rivalry factored into it. 

And despite the drama it could create, the fact remained that I did not want to shut Rhys down. 

So I nodded. And decided to be vague. Friends first, right? “Well I don’t know if I can say that to you. . . yet.” I hoped he’d understand my meaning. “But stick with me and I promise my presence won’t become insufferable any time soon.” 

His face was solemn even as he mustered up a weakly flirtatious tone. “If you say so,” he breathed. 

I nodded, unable to remove my gaze from his violet eyes. 

“I do,” I whispered. 

The sudden honk of a very high-pitched horn made me jump. 

“That’ll be Elain,” I said, still looking at him. 

“Okay.” He didn’t move. Only reached up to run a finger down my cheek.

“We should go,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“Okay.” 

Finally, Elain’s shout forced us to get up, throw the bag of pretzels away, and pile into the car. 

I was screwed. Immensely, impossibly, royally, screwed.

My Love

Chapter 5: No Air

Series Premise: With a six week old daughter, Liam finds himself suddenly widowed. When the Royal Council demands he find a new queen and endure another social season, he gets a little help from someone unexpected–his late wife.

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Implied thoughts of suicide.

—————-

Liam stirred mashed potatoes around his plate; making careless trails of tine grooves that ran across his plate into his roast lamb and asparagus. He could hear Drake speaking to him about a new development on the boardwalk–but wasn’t really listening. While he nodded and gave a half hearted smile so that his friend didn’t think he was rude, Liam lifts his glass of scotch, taking two quick sips, wishing to hell it would finally numb his tortured mind and take him away for a few hours.  Normally, the drink would leave him refreshed and relaxed, perhaps even incapacitated, yet he hadn’t felt its much desired effects since that night. The night he worked late while his wife tantalized him with texts of want and desire for him. The night he kissed every inch of her velvety, smooth skin and their bodies intertwined with unspeakable passion and devotion to one another. The night death stealthily entered into his bedroom, robbed him mercilessly of every truth he ever believed in and left behind nothing but bitter lies. It was the night Liam watched his purpose and meaning drift away into nothing. 

There is no perfect way to explain how it feels to lose someone. Liam dreaded being asked several times each day by friends and staff, how he was doing. How am I doing? 

He pondered that If all the great minds in the world can’t explain what love is, how does one properly define a loss. 

How do you tell people your heart was literally ripped out of your chest without rhyme or reason, leaving a void so painful that life was no longer something you desired. How do you answer that truthfully and not leave them feeling monsterous for asking. It’s a mindless question really, because in all honesty they want a false answer. He was fine. 

It had been exactly four weeks since Riley died. Four agonizing weeks of loneliness and sorrow- the kind a person will never fully heal from.  Liam’s face had grown paler and his eyes were sunken from lack of sleep and appetite. His tall, muscular frame was just starting to show evidence of wasting away and if one didn’t know better, might say he was ten years older than he actually was. He had grown irritable, withdrawn, and found no pleasure in things he typically enjoyed. If not for Ellie, who was quite possibly the only thing keeping him somewhat together now, he seriously contemplated the merits of pursuing the ultimate Shakespearean ending. 

As he prodded the asparagus and slid it back off his fork, he tried to imagine what Riley was doing at this exact moment. Liam believed in an afterlife; he wasn’t sure exactly what it entailed, but imagined a place where his wife was surrounded by beauty and color his mortal eyes couldn’t begin to imagine. Was she dancing carelessly through a field of her favorite lilies while her laughter carried a melody so sweet and magnificent, the angels were envious? He knew she didn’t have any close family, but perhaps his mother was keeping her company while they exchange funny stories of Liam’s mishaps and clownery.  Does she even remember me? 

No matter how glorious or wonderful her time might be there, one fact remained: there was a chasm that separates him from the greatest love he’s ever known. Until he would be able to break through that barrier himself, he would never feel whole again. Riley was his life and without her, he surmised, he no longer existed.

As he stared at the disarray of intermingled food on his plate, Ellie’s soft cry ripped him from his thoughts. Before he could lift the cloth napkin from his lap to attend to his daughter,  Drake was already up from his chair across from Liam, unhooking the baby from her glider and bouncing her on his chest. This wasn’t anything surprising; if it hadn’t been Drake, it would have been Hana or Maxwell. Liam wasn’t sure if they realized he had caught on to their patterns of, ‘just dropping by’, visits, while attending to his every need and want. Even if he wanted to be left alone, which in large part he did, those three friends most likely used the opportunity to heal themselves of the heavy hearts they were feeling too.

Drake, the ever proud godfather, handed the little girl to her daddy and grabbed an already prepared bottle from the refrigerator to heat up. 

“So, what do you think Neville’s plans are for this emergency council meeting tomorrow?” Drake asked, while he placed the bottle into the warmer and leaned back into the counter waiting for it to finish.

Liam let out a heavy sigh. “You know Lord Neville as well as I do-”  He bent over to pick up the rattle Ellie dropped on the floor and placed it back inside her tiny little hand. “I’m sure whatever it is he wants will likely end with me trying to pamper his spoiled ass and you wanting to kick it.”

Drake knit his brows with a chuckle. “Heh. I do find kicking that nutsack’s ass to be one of my favorite pastimes. Right after drinking my weight in whiskey, moping around the palace on your dime and pounding the hell out of myself to a picture of Madeleine.”

Liam’s face twisted as he stopped rocking Ellie for a moment to let Drake’s words sink in. Did he really just say that about himself? The more time he had to think about them, the funnier it became to him. 

“Drake-” He chortled with amusement. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Drake smirked and started to respond when the warmer beeped, letting him know it was ready. He grabbed the bottle, checking the temperature on his wrist and handed it over to Liam. “That’s usually the kind of ‘Drake Walker’ jokes,” he emphasized with air quotes, “Liv tells that makes the group laugh … thought you could use one. Looks like it worked too, since that’s the first time you’ve laughed or even smiled since …” 

With that unfinished quip, an awkward silence began.  Drake rubbed the back of his neck, feeling terrible for bringing up Riley’s death. Even if he didn’t actually utter those words, the smile that instantly faded from Liam’s face before he turned away from him, told Drake all he needed to know. 

Later that evening, after Drake left, Liam gave Ellie her bath and put her down for the night. With the baby monitor in hand, he stepped out onto the living room balcony-just as he had done every night for the past four weeks- to talk with his beloved. With a full, spring moon overhead, he could see her place of rest clearly and mused how the mound of dirt before her newly placed headstone was beginning to flatten out. Liam leaned against the railing, as he did every night and told her how much he loved her and missed her. He spoke about his day with Ellie and how it must have been Drake’s turn to spend time with them. 

Liam placed both elbows on the cool, concrete railing, clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on them. “My Love, I want to be where you are.” He lifted his head from his hands and glanced upwards toward the stars. “I’ve thought about it a million times since you left. All it would take is one pill and then you and I can reunite … be together forever.” 

Liam dropped his hands over the railing and rubbed the tips of his fingers along the roughened grooves of concrete. The scent of lavender from Ellie’s shampoo still clung to his hands and traveled with the breeze. He let out a heavy breath. “I’m stuck between two great loves though. You’re there and Eliie and I are here and I can’t leave her … I’m just …  really missing my other girl tonight.”

In the silence, Liam turned when he heard the calling out of his name from the living room. He rubbed the dust off his hands and elbows and made his way back inside to find Ellie’s nanny coming in for the night. It was the first time she would be spending the night there. Liam would be returning to his full time duties in the morning and an early morning, emergency council meeting meant her services were needed more frequently now. 

Rolling a suitcase through the foyer towards the stairs, she stops immediately to curtsy when she sees Liam.

“Your Majesty.”

He motioned with the monitor in his hand to the stairs. “Ellie’s been asleep for 20 minutes. I would imagine she will be out for another few hours and the staff prepared your accommodations earlier. Is there anything you need before I retire for the night”

She rolled her suitcase back and forth as she thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I have everything I need right here,” she patted her suitcase with a playful smile.

Liam thanked the young, brunette and carried the luggage to her room at the top of the stairs. Once the door was shut, he drifted slowly to his bedroom. He had been in there several times, however, this was the first night he would sleep in the bed he’d shared with his wife. Obviously, his hand was forced in that decision; he couldn’t remain in Ellie’s room with the nanny coming and going throughout the night. It was time to face his fears.

After he showered, Liam perused his closet for the suit he would wear in the morning. He wanted something loose, but also knew that Neville had something up his sleeves and wanted to ensure his look didn’t allow the slimy bastard to think he could best him. While contemplating his options between the blue tie and black tie with the suit jacket he chose, a peculiar thought crosses his mind. 

Liam exits the closet after tossing the black tie over the hanging suit and leaves the bedroom. He walks back down the hall and stops in front of Amanda’s door and raises his hand to knock.

“Amanda! Open the door!”

He could hear faint scurrying inside and the closing of a dresser drawer.

“I said open the door, now!”

Amanda opened the door a few seconds later with a shocked, but puzzled expression. “Is there something wrong, Your Majesty.”

Liam gives her a questioning look. “How did you get in my quarters tonight?”

Flustered, she furrowed her brows. “What?”

He placed his hand on the barely opened door and pushed it in a little further.  “How in the hell did you get in my quarters tonight.” He asks again while peeking over her shoulder suspiciously.

Amanda let go of the door and under the watchful of the King, walked to the desk drawer of the guest room, opened it and pulled out a key ring. She held it up in front of her and jiggled it nervously. “Queen Riley gave me the key. After she had the baby, it was easier for me to have one when she needed me to drop by and she was nursing. I … I didn’t think it would be an issue to use it again since I’m caring for Eleanor now.”

Liam dropped his head and rubbed his thumbs over his tired and puffy eyes. Without knowing who killed his wife, everyone and everything suddenly became suspicious to him. He was edgy with everyone and completely annoyed by the lack of of lead yet.

 “My apologies for scaring you … I’m just … a little questioning of everyone. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” 

Amanda placed the key ring back in the drawer and walked back before Liam at the door. She placed her hand on his arm and slightly squeezed with an understanding nod. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, sir. I want whoever took my dear friend away found also and if you need to question me to feel some reassurance, I completely understand.”

After he apologized once more for interrupting her nightly routine, he bid her goodnight and left her be. She turned the lock on her door and crossed the room into her own personal bathroom. As she stood before the large mirror that clung to the bathroom wall, she grabbed her toothbrush and looked at her reflection with a sinister smirk formed on her lips. She winked at herself in the mirror and gave herself a gleeful smile. “This is too easy and it’s only just begun. You haven’t seen anything yet … My King”

________

Liam glared at the bed he had not slept in since Riley passed away. His heart was pounding faster than he could ever recall; he had reached an anxiety level that was insurmountable. After several minutes of trying to control his breathing and his shaky hands, he finally pulled the duvet down and eased himself slowly onto the bed. Liam lowered himself down and tossed the blanket over himself and adjusted his head on the pillow.

After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, he knows he can’t do this. The bed felt so hollow and empty and was a constant reminder of her touch, her scent, her missing place on the other side of him. 

Liam rose from the bed and walked to her vanity in the corner of the room and grabbed a bottle of her perfume. Standing over her pillow, he sprays a generous helping on it and places the bottle back on her night stand. Trying once more, he crawls back into the bed, grabs her pillow, and snuggles his body and face into it. It wasn’t the same-it would never be the same-but it was all he had. “Goodnight, My Love.”

Just as his body and mind began to feel some comfort, he heard the small cries of Ellie followed by an unmistakable voice come through the baby monitor, that shot his eyes open quickly.”

“Baby mine don’t you cry. Baby mine dry your eyes …”

Liam threw the blankets off his body and twisted around to snatch the monitor from the table beside his bed. He placed the device to his ear, not sure if what he heard was what he thought he did.  He held his breath as the all too familiar voice carried through it and prayed it wasn’t a dream.

“It can’t … can it?”

Still carrying the monitor to his ear, he runs out of his room and across the hall to Ellie’s nursery. He stands before the door and braces himself for the possibilities that lie beyond it.

He carefully twists the door handle, still hearing the sniffles of his infant daughter and a song he hadn’t heard sung in a month.

His blue eyes widen with anticipation and he can feel the blood rush away from his eager mind as the door swung open.

He lets out a small gasp as the baby’s room becomes visible and immediately drops to his knees.

"Riley?”

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 6

<- Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 ->

Summary:  First your mom’s a jerk. Then the Creature’s a jerk. You always try to be supportive and strong, because you know he was created in a lab 2 years ago and has never had any human contact except for physical beatings, but… You have your own emotional insecurities, too, and there’s only so much you can take.

The rooster crows, and you spring out of bed, rushing downstairs to do your chores with a vigor that alarmed, but pleased, your parents. Pulling on your coat in the frosty grey air, you hurry out to the barn before dawn breaks.

The dilapidated old structure looms like a ghost at the end of the pasture in the dark morning fog. The wooden door creaks as you push it open and slip inside. You discover the terrifying, ghoulish monster sleeping peacefully in the cow pen, curled up on the hay with Edelweiss and her newborn calf. A handful of barn cats have joined them, sharing the warmth.

A feeling builds up inside you like air filling a balloon, and escapes your mouth as a high-pitched squeal.

He jerks awake in an uncoordinated flailing of startled limbs, putting himself protectively between the calf and the noise. “S-sorry! You’re just so cute,” you gush, lowering your voice to a whisper. His eyes meet yours, the confusion leaves them, and he smiles.

As the previous night, he watches intently as you set about your chores. This time he asks you questions, and follows along with what you’re doing. You show him how to collect eggs, milk cows, distribute feed, and pull up water from the well—the latter he watches from a window, so he won’t be seen.

When finally you are done, you turn your attention to the creature. Your early start means there should be some extra time before you’ll be expected for breakfast, so you tend to his wound, and lay down in the hay with him. The animals graze peacefully outside in the purple-orange sunrise. He puts his arms around you, and you rest your head on his broad chest, watching them through the barn door, safe in the shadows.

“You are a gentle creature,” you yawn lazily, running your fingers through his hair, and tracing them over the uneven skin of his chest. For all he may look like a monster, he has the gentlest soul. But the comment makes his jaw clench, and shift uncomfortably.

“You don't know that,” he growls. “I am not. The power of death is in these hands.” He holds them out and turns them over. Each pale knuckle protrudes like the pommel of a dagger, attached to long, skeletal fingers. Like everything about him, they are macabre in appearance, but looking past that to the person they belong to, you can’t imagine them capable of any wrongdoing.

“No it's not—” you begin to protest, snatching his hands out of the air and clutching them to your chest. But then, you don’t really know anything about his past, and begin to wonder. “Have you...? Killed?”

He shakes his head, to your relief. “To take a life is to waste the most precious gift. But I have contemplated it, and I believe myself capable. Before we met, I was determined to wreak misery upon he who made me. Humanity hated and scorned me, and so I decided…” He trails off, breathing deeply. “I am certain, had you not found me, I would have committed unforgivable evils; such was the state I was in. I have already committed acts of destruction: I set fire to a cottage where my friends once lived. I destroyed out of spite that place where they abandoned me.”

“There’s no point worrying about what could have happened. You haven’t done anything wrong, that’s what matters. All you’ve done is... burn an empty cottage?” Wait, what? “I didn’t realize you had friends before. You always spoke as if you had been alone until now...” A dagger of jealousy pierces your heart. You push the feeling away, a pit of shame knotting your stomach—how dare you be upset you’re not his first and only friend?

His chest heaves a sharp laugh, but his eyes are sad. “I called them thus… In truth, I was their friend, but they were never mine” He tells you a story of how he took shelter in a low hovel attached to a cottage, from whence he could observe the lives of its occupants through the year, undetected. He learned to speak and read from watching them, and in return he secretly aided them however he could. They called him a good spirit, and he called them his protectors. The patriarch was a blind man, and after he had mastered speech, he sought to introduce himself when he was alone, that he might supplicate himself before him for aid, and earn his sympathy. “My plan nearly succeeded, but his family returned and drove me away. Despite all my efforts to help them, they could not stomach a ‘good spirit’ as hideous as I, and they fled in horror, never to return. Such is the fate of one wretched as I. In my life, only you have been able to tolerate me—I must assume by some anomaly in the shape of your skull which makes you immune to horror.”

His tale is just as sorrowful as you had expected, and you spent its telling squeezing and nuzzling him comfortingly. But there was one little thing that kept bothering you about it.

“Hang on—so you were spying on them for a whole year?! That’s kind of creepy, mon coeur.”

“What do you mean? I would be delighted to discover a secret friend had been watching over me this whole time.”

Your head hangs, shaking side to side. “Oh, my sweet innocent daemon.” You swivel around and squeeze both his cheeks between your hands. “Of course you would. All you’ve ever wanted is to not be alone. How could you understand what stalking means?”

“Stalking?”

“Most people find it disturbing—threatening—to be watched by a stranger without their knowledge. And for an entire year! They must have realized the mysterious spirit doing them favors was you the whole time! I’d have been creeped out too if that was how we met! They would have run away even if you were handsome as a prince!”

His face is a mask of confusion, frozen with mouth agape. After a moment of shocked silence, it falls in despair. “Then there is more than my appearance that drives my fellow-beings from me? I always believed, if not for my twisted form, I might be accepted—but there is more? My sensibilities, my utter ignorance of the simplest conventions of social existence will keep me from ever experiencing it!”

“Oh, no! Please don’t… I didn’t mean…!” Good job, you broke him. “That isn’t what I meant,” you plead, desperately stroking the side of his face, but his eyes are frozen in a faraway look, sinking under the weight of a new failure. “What I mean is, maybe it’s not as hopeless as you think! Maybe people aren’t afraid of you because of your immutable physical traits, but because of how you present yourself. And you can change that. I can teach you!”

His unfocused eyes refocus on you, silently curious about what you’re saying.

“So much of how we perceive others is based on presentation. Dress a man in rags and he will be suspected as a criminal, or in the finest silks and he is trusted as a gentleman, though he is the same man with the same soul.” You play with his hair, combing the tangles out of it with your fingers. “Perhaps if we can obtain clothing tailored to your size, if we can groom your hair to a gentlemanly fashion, and most importantly, find some way to introduce you which explains your odd figure… perhaps then, you would not arouse fear in those who see you.”

“Do you think so?” he asks, hopefully.

“We can try.”

He smiles, shaking off his melancholy. Two massive hands pull you firmly onto his lap. “You are all I want, anyway. I don’t care about anyone else.” His hand runs down the small of your back, and lower, teasing you. A heat rises in your core. Something in the way his eyes smile when they look at you… suddenly, you need him. You lean up to kiss him, pulling on his neck for support, and his lips lower to meet yours, merging with sudden fury. He pulls the back of your head toward him, deepening the kiss, while his other hand takes advantage of your hips lifting off his lap to slide between your thighs. He moans, muffled against your mouth. The sound of his arousal ignites your own, and you writhe your hips into the fingers exploring you there, directing them over your clothes to your heat. You could get lost in him.

Your mother’s shrill voice carries down to the barn, calling your name. The hens cluck a greeting, rushing to the fence to beg for food. She’s not just calling you in to breakfast, she’s coming to the barn!

You fall off him with a yelp, frantically righting your clothing and hair, while he scrambles to get out of sight, massive erection outlined clearly even through his thick cloak.

“What is taking you so long?” your mother scolds, charging into the barn. She’s in a foul mood, but at least is too wrapped up in her anger to notice anything amiss. She snatches up the milk pail by the door. “I’ve been waiting on this for breakfast!”

“Sorry. I got an early start so I could take my time this morning—it’s no later than user!”

“Don’t talk back to me, child,” she huffs. “I worried about you. I keep expecting you to disappear again.”

“Oh, mom…” you feel sorry for all you’ve put her through for a moment, but she doesn’t let you complete your thought.

“Do you know how this has been on me? Our family is the gossip of the town. But at least we had that nice service for you. How did you like the service?”

It wasn’t a real question. You open your mouth to answer, and she is already delivering a lengthy sermon on how lovely the hymns were, and how she had the best voice, because she wanted to be an opera singer when she was your age, you know.

“Anyway, I came to fetch you for breakfast, and after breakfast, I want you to go into town and apologize to that boy Ferdinand right away and get him to take you back.”

“What? I told you, I broke things off with him!”

“You can explain that the accident made you hysterical, and you weren’t thinking straight.”

“But I was thinking straight. I don’t love him!”

“You fool!” she raises her voice. “Can’t you see he’s your best prospect? Who else will have you? Do you want to grow old alone, a spinster?”

“Maybe I do!” You’ve had about enough of this. “There’s good money in textiles, and then I wouldn’t have to rely on anyone! You think I want to end up like you and dad?”

“HOW DARE YOU?” She slaps you across the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it stings like needles under your skin. An angry snarl emanates from where the creature is hiding. Your mother stands bolt upright. “What was that?”

“That was you hitting me,” you hiss between clenched teeth, playing dumb.

“Let us return to the house. Something unholy has fallen on this place.”

“No, I still have chores to finish.”

“Now! I will not leave my daughter alone to be preyed upon by a demonic spirit. Dear lord, what if the devil is following you? When you had your accident, you came too close to the gates of death, and now some devil has its claws in your soul… Come!”

“It was only a cow, you’re imagining things,” you plead, but she grabs you hard around the wrist and drags you back to the house.

*****

Something is wrong. You can tell the moment you enter the barn. After spending a long, miserable day under your mother’s supervision, you long for the comfort of your macabre companion’s arms, but he does not greet you at the door. It is silent. He could be asleep again, but it is not the warm, comfortable silence of rest. It is a cold feeling, as if something had sucked all sound from the air.

You climb up to the hay loft, a knot of dread rising in your stomach, and find him stewing in a shadowed corner facing the wall.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Who is Ferdinand?” he growls, not turning around.

The knot tightens.

He whips around and repeats his demand, this time a roar. “Who is Ferdinand?!” His eyes are dark. He may have been crying.

“The boy I was with when I tripped and fell in the river... the one who shot you.”

“And who is he to you, exactly?” He asks, attempting to seem indifferent to the answer, though his voice is strained and constricted in his throat.

“He was... we were courting. He comes from a wealthy family, and my parents pushed the match. Of course I ended all preludes the moment I awoke from the accident to learn what he had done to you. Then I went to find you.”

This explanation does nothing to satisfy him, or to relieve the tension in his shoulders and the heaving of his breath. He paces.

“You never told me.”

“I… I’m sorry; he’s in the past, it didn’t seem important…” But not even mentioning it was a deliberate oversight. It was to protect his feelings, you tell yourself. Or was it to protect yourself from your own shame? Girls in your town are taught to be faithful, to never rush between men. One must wait at least a year between suitors, to be proper. To do otherwise is to be called a whore. Not that you care about what is proper. Not that he ought to care.

“Did you lay with him?” he cringes. “And how many others before him?!”

“Th-that’s none of your business!”

“But you’re mine!” he roars. “I thought you were mine… I should have known you belonged to another!”

“I belong to nobody!” you cry indignantly, trying to convince yourself as much as him. The anger rising within you is overshadowed by a stronger feeling—guilt. You never lied exactly, but you omitted the truth to let him think you were better than you are. “I may have been with another in the past, but I chose to be with you now. Please...” Your appeal falls on unhearing ears as he continues to pace in a jerky, agitated manner.

“And you… you debase yourself with me! What madness would cause you to break with your own kind and seek companionship with a wretched fiend? You could be wife to a normal, handsome fellow-being, yet you debauch in the sordid embrace of monsters? You are a greater freak than I! Given the choice, I would take a normal life! You make an outcast of yourself willingly. What in the world could drive you to such self-destruction? I forbid it! Be not an adulteress to a corpse. Take my leave and rejoin your own!”

There are a million things you could tell him. You could shout at him for being cruel. For pushing you away again. You could calmly comfort him, explain to him why it’s all okay… Except you’re struggling to see how it can be okay. Your lip quivers. He’s right. A voice like a knife dipped in honey whispers in your ear, draining all your strength to fight back. You’re too much of a freak even for him. You’re an unfaithful whore jumping from man to man. Your knees go weak. You could never do the proper things a lady is supposed to do. You didn’t think he would notice? Everyone notices. Your mother is right—there’s a devil in you.

You turn to run, to escape the voice. Legs like lead, barn blurry with tears, you trip and stumble and feel your way to the ladder.

“Why are you crying?” he asks as you go, at first with cold curiosity, then softer, in a shaking voice. “Why are you crying?”

  *****

You run into the woods, to your secret place to think and get away. It’s not far from home—a place you’ve come since you were a child—but hidden from view behind a few large boulders, standing out on the otherwise flat forest floor as if dropped from the sky. They are covered with moss, set in a tiny clearing where an old tree blew down years ago, letting just enough light in for a soft circle of grass to grow.

You scramble between the rocks, falling to your knees on the snow still hiding, like you, in the solace of shadows. Tears fall down hot against your cheeks, but you shiver, skin clammy with goosebumps.

It doesn’t take him long to find you.

“No, oh no…” he gasps, “what have I done?” He kneels beside you, and wraps himself around your shaking form. “No, no, no... Please no, don't cry,” he begins to sob. “I am sorry... I am a fiend! A wicked, villainous fiend to hurt you... Forgive me, please forgive me, I am sorry…”

It feels good to cry with him, the way a funeral feels good. Miserable, yet not alone. But you should be alone. When he knows the truth, he won’t want to stay. He’ll leave you alone with your lies.

“You’re right. You’re right about everything,” you sniff. “I didn’t tell you so many things I should have, because… this magical creature wandered out of the woods and thought the world of me. I didn’t want you to know. I’m a freak. I’m rotten. A disappointment. And I'm poor. I'm just a poor farmer. You think I am sacrificing my social standing by affiliating with you, yet in truth, I have no such standing. No merit. I am nothing. Even among the poor farmers of this town, I have never been accepted. Ha—and I said I could help you fit in! Who am I to teach anyone about social etiquette? Ferdinand was my only prospect; that's why mother is so worried that if he won't have me, no one will. But I thought I could at least seem normal in your eyes… but even a monster can see I am worthless.”

He flinches when you call him a monster, but it is only a blip against the look of horror and sadness in his eyes as you speak of yourself that way. “No. No, please forget those jealous words I spoke,” he croaks, voice breaking. He’s clinging to you like a drowning man, his weight against you crushing, but warm. He rubs heat back into your arms. “They were spoken in a fit of madness—vitriolic raving, fueled by envy, deprived of all logic or reason. Do not forgive me: hate me and curse my being, but do not allow my reckless malice to tarnish your own estimation of your worth. Here I speak the truth: You are everything. You are all I could ever want, and more than I dare ever hope for. You are kind, and wonderful, and strong. You are perfect, and I do not deserve to bask in your radiance. Destroy my wretched life now, if it will undo the harm I have done, and I shall submit myself to your revenge.”

It’s too late. The voice isn’t satisfied, and you can only helplessly parrot what it whispers to you. “I’m not any of those things. If you only looked normal, you would fit in better than I ever could. I wish I could trade bodies with you, so that you could be happy, and I could be the one hiding in the wilderness all alone.”

“I COULD NEVER BE HAPPY LIKE THAT!” he shouts, holding your gaze with such intensity it snaps you out of your fog. “Not without you beside me! I will never be content while you are miserable.”

“But you held me in such high esteem. I let you believe you were getting more than you were—that I was a prize of high station, with powers to lift you up in society. Aren't you disappointed?”

“I never overestimated your position. Though I am kept apart from it, I am not so ignorant of human society as to be blind to your place in its cruel hierarchy.”

“But you always say things like, I’m an angel, I’m noble, the barn is heaven, our food is lavish...”

“Compared against my own experiences, these are true. I have nothing, not even humanity. My life has been spent in wilderness, and you have been gracious in sharing what little you have. You are the noblest being I have encountered, yet it is plain in your residence, dress, and occupation that you are you are of the lower class. And to seek me out, unafraid… I easily inferred you were unusual amongst your peers. Your mere willingness to tolerate me is proof.”

“Oh.” You shake your head, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

He takes your hand, kneeling in front of you. “Did you believe I would think less of you? How could one so wonderful as you ever put value on the opinion of a wretch such as I? Could it truly be that you feel wretched, too, at times?” His eyes widen with realization. “That is why my words hurt you. You have borne the pain of rejection; you share, to an extent, my feeling of isolation. From my vantage, you seem so grand, like the walls of a castle that I am merely the wind howling against. I could not imagine myself capable of damaging you.”

“Do you really think I don’t care? I am not a castle. I’m not above you, or your reprobations. You really hurt me this time...”

“I know,” he says, voice cracking with agonizing understanding. He is certain you are leaving him. “I know.”

You breathe out a long sigh. Brushing a strand of loose hair from his despairing face, you give a lopsided smile. “You know... You're cute when you're sad.”

“I am never cute,” he says, staring severely at the ground. “I am hideous.”

“Stop it, you're even cuter when you're self-pitying!”

He looks up from his stupor, and sees the teasing glimmer in your eyes. “You... are forgiving me?”

“Do you forgive me about Ferdinand? You don’t think I’m a harlot?”

“I don’t care about that anymore. It is far worse to see you in pain because of my foolish jealousy. You may bed a different man each night, and I will count myself fortunate to have you return home to me. Just return to me. I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

Your lips crash against his, catching him off balance. You pull him down into you, practically hanging on the back of his neck.

“Well,” you break the kiss, breathless, “I’m not going to abandon you. But I… hope this gets easier. I don’t want us to fight all the time. You lash out at me like you can’t trust me. But you're only two years old, I suppose, so tantrums must be expected; and you’ve never had anyone else to talk to.”

He buries you in his chest with a sob, protectively scooping you off the frozen ground. He feels so warm, with his cloak draped over you, rocking back and forth. Everything is okay now.

“I am so sorry. I swear to you, I will never hurt you again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you whisper. “Just keep getting better. We’ll both just keep getting better, together.”

His mess of hair nods against your cheek, still gripping you tight.

  *****

At length, you rise, finally ready to return. He takes off his wool cloak and wraps it around your shoulders. The storm between you is over.

You walk back to the barn to do the evening chores. Though it’s an unheated barn, it’s amazing how much warmer it feels compared to the chilling wind outside. The creature helps you with a few of the tasks you showed him earlier. He is slow and unsure, and must rest frequently for his shoulder, but he tries hard to be useful, pushing past the pain, as if helping with this will make up for everything earlier.

He sets a milk pail by the door, ready for you to bring back to the house for the dinner. His eyes linger over the spot balefully, where you had argued with your mother that morning.

“I should have protected you when you returned, after the way that woman struck you, I should have been there to lessen your strife…”

“You growled so loud, you nearly gave us away!” you laugh, throwing grains into the mule’s trough, eager to change the subject. “It’s a lucky thing father makes sport of dismissing mother’s fears as feeble-minded superstition.”

“How awful.”

“She’s awful.”

“But they are married. Do they not love each other, as my dear Felix and Safie?”

You snort at his naivete. “Marriage has nothing to do with love. It didn’t for my parents, and it wouldn’t if I had married Ferdinand.” You secure the lid back on the store of feed. “I have no money in my own name. The only way out of this farm is to wait until my parents die, or take a husband. That’s the choice all women here must make.”

“I never understood these laws of men, which seem contrived to force those under them to live in misery. One should not have to spend their life with another they do not love. It seems better to break with civilization entirely, if only it were not so bitterly lonely…”

“Well… I agree with you there. If it were possible, I’d run away into the forest and never look back. Except I would starve to death, or freeze. If I was like you… we could just disappear together.”

He smiles at you, wiping your hands off on your dress now that chores are finished, a strange look on his face. “I dreamed of that once. Having a companion who was like me, and spending our lives in the remote jungles of South America.”

“That sounds nice.”

You sit down with him against the barn wall. A small calico pads over and rubs her head against the both of you with a purr, before rushing off to hunt mice.

“It was my greatest hope… but then I met you. Now all of my dreams are of you. I would live anywhere, do anything, to be with you. I am so eager to devote my life to you… I am ashamed that I am equally eager to believe you would betray me…”

He’s never going to forgive himself for that. You sigh, and shake your head. “It's funny... Others look at you and see a monster. They run away or hurt you thinking you’ll attack them, or eat their skin, or steal the souls from their goats or something!” You laugh quietly. He stares at you a little horrified. When did you get so morbid? “What I mean is—If only they knew your most monstrous quality is a mundane, human thing like jealousy.”

He breathes out a single, silent laugh, and hangs his head.

“You know, thanks for saying you don’t care who else I’m with, but… The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over with Ferdinand. From that moment, you were all I could think about. You were all I wanted, even before we met.”

He picks his head up. “You really chose me? You could have had that handsome boy, but you chose me?” This time, his voice is full of wonder, not fear. A victorious smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

“I did.”

He takes your hand and holds it to his thin lips, each word a kiss against your knuckles. “It is incomprehensible that any rational being would make such a selection, but… it makes me unimaginably happy.”

High! Here's a prompt idea: Lucien and Elain going on a date.

Yes. This is adorable and I support. They might be mates but they still gotta get to know each other <3 Also fun fact this sent twice for some reason xD Gotta love tumblr right?

So here’s something cute. I hope you like it. Also, I’m obsessed with how Lucien calls her lady in acowar the one time they really spoke alone. Also it got longer than expected so it’s under the cut. But wholesomeness

______________________________

There had been a lot of chaos following the battle. A lot of recovery, people returning to their rightful places and just overall confusion. But as the dust began to settle, Elain had finally found herself wanting to know more. So she’d hunted down Feyre and asked her about mates. And in turn, Feyre had directed her to Rhys, claiming he’d do a better job at describing it.

It felt interesting to her, that there was this idea of a potentially perfect person for her. She’d once thought that was Greyson until her body had been changed against her will. And his love had been fragile enough to break for it. And seeing how well it worked out for Feyre, she almost wanted to see if she could have that too.

But it didn’t stop her from being surprised when Lucien returned, despite her own encouragement that he should return. But still, she could see the way he watched her.

It took her a little bit to approach him, but she did. 

“Hello,” she greeted.

He looked almost surprised by her interaction, cheeks blushing slightly. “Hello, lady.”

“How was the spring court?” She’d gotten the information from her sister about where Lucien had been.

That surprise only lingered, as if he hadn’t expected her to care about his whereabouts. “It was—It was as good as could be expected.” He’d felt rather at a loss there. It lost the feeling of home sometime even before he left.

“Are you going to stay long?” she asked him, quietly.

He gave a small shrug. “I’m not sure.”

Elain nodded, understanding. There was a lot to do, and he certainly played a vital piece of it. There was a moment of awkward silence between them.

“Feyre told me about a restaurant in the city that is really good,” she started. “But everyone is too busy to go…”

She felt nervous, shy to even be bringing this up. She had never been the one to do any kind of asking. And she wasn’t making it an excuse. Everyone was too busy to go with her, to take her. They all had important things to do and she….she didn’t. Even Nesta was the Emissary to the Human lands. Elain didn’t even know what she could do. But such offers had been given to her, and she was fairly certain it was because no one could think of anything useful she could do. Even she couldn’t when her only skills had included the social season, gardening, and now she was learning how to cook with Nuala and Cerridwen.

But Lucien seemed to understand what she was trying to say. “If you like, I will go with you, lady,” he offered gently. “I think it would be nice if we got to spend some time together.”

She smiled, brightly enough to light the room, as she had in the aftermath of the battle, knowing that she had her sisters. Though her heart had been broken by her father’s death, he died to protect his daughters. “I would like that, I think,” she told him.

He looked at himself and towards the stairs. They both resided up stairs on opposite ends of the hall. Though he planned to rectify that soon enough. He wanted his own space, and didn’t feel like living in a house with so many people again. “I would like to get cleaned up though. And we’ll find out where that restaurant is and head out,” he offered.

___

A few hours later Lucien waited by the small entry hall to the house. Elain had changed. She wore a dress of pale green with simple floral embroidery in a shade only a touch darker. She might have been a member of the night court, but Elain herself, with her honey gold hair—a pink flower tucked into a small partial braid—emanated spring. Lucien couldn’t help the smile as he saw her.

He himself had chosen a simple, but nice outfit himself. A tunic of green—an unintended coincidence no doubt—and dark brown pants. For a moment he almost felt underdressed, but she beamed at him, as if it didn’t matter to her. And he’d gotten directions from Rhysand earlier.

He held out an arm for her. “Shall we, lady?”

She nodded and took his arm, following his lead outside. She had been wanting to see more of the city, now that things were settling, now that she was sorting herself out. And it was nice to have the chance to get to know Lucien, regardless of the bond between them, knowing how much he’d meant to Feyre.

They walked in a silence for a bit, before Elain managed to speak, “I see why Feyre loves this city so much. It’s so pretty.”

Lucien glanced down at her before looking around them. “It is certainly unlike anything I imagined in the night court.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Lucien paused, realizing that she had come from a different world basically, and hadn’t grown up with the rumors. “The night court…it always had a bit of an unsavory reputation,” he explained carefully. “But now I know it was because this is what they’d been protecting.”

Elain remained quiet at that, not quite sure what to say. Though she could understand wanting to protect such a place.

“There are some beautiful gardens,” she said.

“Have you always liked gardens?”

She thought for a moment. “No. and yes, I suppose. Before…before my father had lost everything, before my mother died, our parents were always preoccupied. So I spent a lot of time in our gardens. When…when we lost everything, Feyre would buy seeds for me. And I found comfort in gardening.”

Lucien smiled, finding it sweet. But she continued to speak. “I still don’t understand why she did. I…could have done so much more. But I didn’t know what. Still, sometimes there were vegetables in that garden, and I made sure that those grew. And when everything came back to us, it was almost overwhelming. So I kept the gardens myself.”

“If I know anything about wealthy households, the servants likely didn’t respond well.”

She laughed, and it was such a beautiful, soft sound. But she shook her head. “No, they thought I was crazy…But I find gardens to be a piece of beauty. And peace.”

Lucien understood. Finding something that brought peace was important after war.

They managed to find their way in a peaceful quietness, enjoying the beauty of Velaris, to the restaurant. Sevenda’s. They were seated at a small table out sight of prying eyes. Both of them were known even here.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Elain said quietly when they were settled.

“It is my pleasure, lady,” Lucien responded.

She watched him carefully. “What does it mean to you? For us to be mates?”

That metal eye whirred and Elain could see the shock on his face. He hadn’t expected her to go there. He certainly hadn’t planned on bringing it up himself. So he thought about it for a moment.

“Well, finding my mate is something I always wanted…most males do,” he admitted. “It’s a rare and special thing. Of course, it’s not always the best match, but everyone hopes for it.”

Elain took a sip from her glass and continued to watch him. Waiting for him to answer the whole question.

“I am glad to know my mate is someone like you. And I’m glad to know you,” he said. “But I don’t want to force it either. Though, I have to admit, it goes against every instinct.”

She gave a shy smile, but nodded. Rhys had explained that to her.

When she still hadn’t spoken, Lucien glanced at her. “I would like to see if it could be a good match, for both of us. If that is something you’d like.”

“I want to get to know you,” she answered. “But I am still hurting, from losing Greyson.”

She felt it was only fair to tell him, to warn him that she had things to sort through.

“I am sorry, that it didn’t work out.”

Her smile turned a little sad. “Thank you.”

Lucien felt like he wasn’t good at this. But he’d courted Jesminda. His own personal heartbreak to remember.

Sevenda came back by, taking their orders before bustling off to the kitchen, leaving them alone again.

“What’s your favorite color?” Elain asked suddenly. Such a simple, sweet question.

“I think I found I always favored yellow,” he answered. “What is yours?”

“Pink. Like that of a cherry blossom.”

Soft and delicate, just like her.

Their food came out shortly after, and they ate, finding light topics to discuss. Lucien discovered that Elain enjoyed reading light romance novels, apparently she and Nesta both did. And that she’d recently taken up cooking, wanting to learn what she felt she should have years ago.

By the end of their outing, they’d found a certain level of comfort in each other’s company, and Elain walked just a little closer to him as they made their way back to the house.

“Thank you, for your company, Lucien,” Elain said as they entered the house and stood at the base of the stairs. Lucien immediately was aware of Feyre standing at the top of the stairs. Likely wanting to know that her sister was alright.

“It was my pleasure, Lady,” he answered, taking her hand and kissing it. Elain’s cheeks blushed a pretty red, and it was a sight he could get used to. “Any time you wish my company, I will be happy to oblige.”

Elain gave him one more smile before taking a few steps up the stairs. She paused to turn and looked at him, height about even, before she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Then she made her way up the stairs, likely to change and go to bed. But Lucien smiled after her.

A (not really) Ode to bucklemming

Last bucklemming episode, and you guys, it was just such a classic example of their stale mediocrity. And yet, at the end of this post, I found myself bizarrely happy with how the episode turned out.

This is the second time I’ve watched it, and while I was planning to just liveblog my thoughts, I realized quickly that would not work, because most of the episode is boring and miserable, (especially the first third or so) and that makes for boring and miserable note-taking. I think I said in a tag of a different post that Dabb assigning this one to bucklemming is just further proof that he hasn’t cared about plot at all this season, and honestly, I don’t know there’s much they COULD have done to make this plot entertaining. Chuck even says at one point that it ... isn’t entertaining.*

The first third or so is basically Sam, Dean, and Jack being miserable with nothing around them break that misery up (except, briefly, a dog). And that makes for a miserable viewing experience. Here are a handful of notes I took that give you the gist:

- Chuck standing there talking about how loneliness and no-people is “deep” and a “page-turner” is such a gratifying little critique of shitty writers who like their gritty stories about permanently miserable protagonists. Like dude, you know there’s a reason nobody rereads “The Road,” right? - Dean slurring his words because he’s hungover is the first time anything interesting has happened with the dialogue in this whole episode. - Rob Benedict is the only one who gets to inflect his dialogue this episode. I do think his acting in that last scene is great, where he’s screaming, “Guys, wait!” as they drive off. It’s not a terrible ending scene.

So there’s that. Now here are my notes not-related to how stale and boring everything is:

Beginning: -The shots of Kyoto and New York City remind me of all the shots in NYT and other major newspapers after COVID shut everything down last spring (except in this case all the traffic would still be in New York, just no people). - “I couldn’t save anybody.” Poor Sam. (must push down feelings about Sam’s leadership arc and how it always seems to end with people dying, ugh, repress, repress!) - Also, I wanted to see a shot of a sink running and one of them turning it off. Just a random thing.

Archangel stuff: - I guess it makes sense to lose Adam if you’re going to kill Michael at the end, but goddamn if Michael isn’t a way more boring character without him. - Ah, Lucifer, a.k.a bucklemming’s attempt at comic relief. I’m starting to miss the boring dialogue. - Ooh, awesome, the only female character in the episode shows up bound and gagged and immediately murdered so she can be used and then murdered again. (Also, the first time I watched this scene, I was sure she wouldn’t wake up and was gearing up to laugh at Lucifer for sucking.) - Jensen stays as far away from her as he can when he unties her, I’m sure that actress appreciates him trying not to give her COVID. Course then she immediately ruins it by head-butting him, which is NOT practicing social distancing. - Many have commented on whether Lucifer can actually kill Death by snapping his fingers. We don’t know, but the Scythe WAS right there, and if Dean can kill Death with it (twice), I’m sure Lucifer can. - On the other hand, it IS established lore that God doesn’t have power in the Empty. Presumably he could negotiate with it like Death, and possibly he just took advantage of the loud chaos of Jack exploding, Death dying, the Empty apparently being super pissed, etc. to sneak in and make off with Lucifer. - Also WHY DO ALL THE ARCHANGEL FIGHTS IN THIS SHOW SUCK ASS???? - “I haven’t been in a battle like that in several centuries,” Michael says, as if he just fought the Battle of the Blackwater in Game of Thrones, and not what appeared to be the archangel equivalent of Mario Kart.

And climax/last scene: - But the best moment of the episode is when they GET BACK UP BLOODY AND HOLDING ONTO EACH OTHER AND ABSOLUTELY BEAMING BECAUSE THEIR LITTLE BOY IS ABOUT TO BECOME GOD. - Also, I like the music in this scene. And it seems like it’s the same place they used to film the end of Season 12/beginning of Season 13, which was probably peak Dabb era, ngl. (Jensen as Michael was also great.) - I also like that Jack and Chuck are both wearing light jackets, but Jack’s is a leeeeeetle whiter. - Chuck looking at the blank book is that moment in every writer’s life, when they’re like, “NOOOOOO, the computer DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE.” - “Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer” You guys, 10 is Chuck’s favorite season. - Of course it is sweet that Cas’s last words seem to have had an effect on Dean, how he goes from “That’s (killing) all I know how to do” to “That’s not who I am.” I’m far from the first person to point that out though. - What happened to Amara is THE WORST. - Also, I am annoyed that Jack isn’t going home with them, because I really wanted him to be God, and a hands-off one, but I also wanted him to drive the Impala and solve crimes, ya know?  - Jared at least seems to understand that this ending is upsetting, because Sam has tears in his eyes, whereas Dean is just kind of like, “ah, he’s leaving.” Which is fine because DEAN AND JACK ARE NOT AS CLOSE AS SAM AND JACK, fight me. - Him disappearing into light is stupid, though. - At least Dean and Sam get to sit close to each other at the end. I wonder if that was the first scene shot after they got out of quarantine. - WHERE ARE THEY DRIVING? - Maybe to go see Jody. - WE GOT BELA AND CROWLEY AND ANNA IN THE MONTAGE HELLZ YEAH, ALSO ABBADON AND ELLEN AND RUFUS, but we also got fucking Asmodeus and Ketch and no Benny, what the fuck, Showalter?

So I have questions.

Some of them are unimportant, like how did people in restaurants at the end react when they found themselves looking at food that seems to have undergone days’ worth of rot in the blink of an eye? Also, you got a shot of a full airport at the end, but that begs the question: were there airplanes in the sky at the time Chuck snapped everyone away, and did they crash, and did the people on them get snapped back into crashed airplanes and was that not super confusing for them and did the airlines lose billions of dollars because all their planes crashed right before COVID shut them down anyway and if all that’s the case is it really any wonder they needed a bailout from the federal government?

But some of them are plot-relevant and could have helped an episode in desperate need of it.

For example, I want to know what’s going on with the Empty, and if Mark Pellegrino had talked about it for more than two seconds, I might not have hated every second he was on screen. Also, there are other things happening this episode. Like Jack walking around sucking life and “power” out of plants catches Dean and Sam’s attention immediately. We know that, because we see them noticing it and exchanging confused glances in the flashback at the end of the episode.

Here’s the thing though: Why not have that in the beginning? It’s not a Huge Reveal, and it would have given Jensen and Jared something to do in that stale boring beginning other than Make Sad Face. As pretty as Jensen and Jared are, and as good as they are at making sad faces, you cannot build an entire episode around that. 

Related, there isn’t actually much of a beat in the plot where it makes sense for them to figure out Michael will betray them for God. It seems like it will happen in that conversation between Dean and Michael when Michael expresses his hurt that Chuck let Lucifer out of the Empty before even asking for help. But at that point, it seems Sam and Dean have already come up with their plan. The flashback makes it seem as if they began to suspect Michael would betray them when Lucifer called him a cuck, something I think they made a plot point purely to have the word “cuck” in the episode for the third time.**

There are a few hopeful beats that show that bucklemming understand on some level that there needed to be some flow to this episode, such as the dog and Dean thinking he may have gotten Cas back. But I don’t think those are substitutes for showing Sam and Dean come up with their plan to defeat God. Even if you don’t want to reveal that they know Michael will betray them, you can still get one scene in there of them saying something like, “You think this’ll work?” if you just cut two minutes of Michael’s boring monologue in the church and/or Lucifer’s bullshit.

It follows this weird pattern of bucklemming once again seeming to not find Sam and Dean particularly interesting, so they don’t spend any time writing them DOING anything, or at least succeeding at anything, because they’d rather write Lucifer killing women and generally being an asshole.

So ... who cares, right? It’s bucklemming, they were bound to be mediocre-to-bad anyway, it kind of makes sense for Dabb to give them this episode because nepotism definitely makes it a best case scenario. And while I take issue with Dabb as a showrunner, I do think he’s great at standalone episodes and character stuff, so I’m not too terribly worried about next episode. I just think there were things about this episode that could have sucked less.

There ARE things about it that were fine, dare I say even good. It was in my notes, but I just want to emphasize that I LOVED the shot of Sam and Dean getting up bloody and broken, holding onto each other and grinning their asses off knowing that Chuck’s about to lose to Jack, and they get to see it! They may very well have gone into that fight expecting to die -- Chuck nearly just zapped them from existence, which would have still unleashed God-power for Jack to soak up.

The ending scene is pretty good, with Sam and Dean seeming like they’re still pretty beaten down, but trying to get it together. That’s more Jensen and Jared’s acting than anything bucklemming wrote, but it’s still good. The montage is good (although I will say for like the third time, where. the fuck. was Benny?) 

Jensen’s acting over the dog was SO SOFT (doesn’t he have a dog?). I half-expected the dog to run to him at the end, which would have been cute.

There are also things that were ... potentially good, if they’d been brought up correctly? I actually really like that Jack is going to be “hands-off” (although I like less that he and Sam will never see each other again, but Dabb did say it was going to be a bittersweet ending, so ....). 

I also -- and God, I’m going to get hate mail for saying this -- don’t mind that he didn’t bring Cas back. That highlights the difference between him and Chuck. Chuck brings back Sam and Dean (and, in Season 5 at least, Cas) over and over again, not out of love, but just to throw them back into their exhausting existence. In contrast, Jack NOT bringing anyone back (except the people who’d been snapped out of existence, which I would argue is more about putting the world on its proper course again, as opposed to “violating the natural order,” as Billie would put it). He knows he has to let people go. You could argue that’s always been his arc -- he and Cas even talk about how hard it will be for them to one day lose Sam and Dean back in Season 14 when they think Dean is dying.

But I wish there had been dialogue exploring THAT instead of the weird vague stuff about how he would always be a part of them. It doesn’t have to be anything super analytical like what I just wrote, it just has to be him saying, “I understand that in order to be a just god, I have to let things go and be at peace.” 

(However, if the reason they DIDN’T go that direction is they didn’t want Dean to be like, “You know, he’s right,” next episode and not rescue Cas from the Empty, then I’m fine with them leaving that out. Screw the natural order, Dean -- go rescue Cas from the Empty!)

I also really really really want to get some sense that Sam’s faith has been rewarded. We got a tiny glimmer of that this episode in the hushed, awed way Jared delivers the line, “Are you really ... him?” Sam has always been the one with faith in a just and loving God, and one of the things that aggravated me about the end of Season 14 was his faith being so blatantly not rewarded, in favor of promoting Dean’s more cynical take on God.

The show has always, since the very first season, raised questions about where God is, whether his will is just, and how we know we’re following it, and the main characters all have different answers to that -- Sam’s being the more faithful, optimistic view of “God is good”, Dean’s being the more critical “If God is good then why do bad things happen?”, and, most interestingly, Cas’ viewpoint largely fluctuating with his own sense of identity and self-worth. The point is, we had all three of these opinions on God, without the show ever explicitly saying which one was right.

Until very recently, I thought it should have stayed that way. But now I love the idea that Sam’s faith in God was rewarded not by Chuck, but by Jack -- the very boy he took under his wing and raised as his own son, the boy who understands that he is good and that people are good largely because SAM TAUGHT HIM THEY CAN BE. It’s just so beautiful, and I’m getting more and more happy about this ending as I write about it, actually, so maybe I don’t entirely hate Jack’s ending after all.

That was a happier note than I planned on ending this on. I guess that is how you stop worrying and tolerate bucklemming. 

Goodbye, bucklemming. I hated many of your episodes, but I will miss you and your weird, inconsistent writing that was so entertaining to pick apart and analyze and make fun of. I hope you find some cop shows where you can churn out more mediocrity and make some money. And in the meantime, stop killing off women.

*Yet another example from this season of the writers intentionally writing a bad episode to highlight the fact that Chuck is a bad writer. NEWSFLASH DABB: Bad writing is still bad writing, I don’t care if the villain of the story is the writer, I still don’t want to watch it if it’s bad.

**Which is such a bizarre insult to use. Isn’t it slang for a guy who’s wife cheats on him? I swear I’m not innocent or sheltered, I have just literally never heard anyone use that insult in a real context in my entire life. 

I expect no one to read this at all. It’s more of a way to get some feelings off of my chest. This is a look into my personal life and what I went through in 2020. I cried quite a bit while writing this, haha.

My farewell letter to 2020:

To you 2020, the year that shook the world. You’re certainly one to go down in the record books. You changed my life as you did to everyone. To you, the month of March. I had hit the lowest part in my life since the shock of my parent's divorce 11 years ago. My beloved cat had died in October of 2019, a few days short of our one year anniversary of fostering him, which soon turned into us adopting him. It was sudden and unexpected. I still can remember clear as day that horrid call I got from my sister from the vet. “Hey, we need you to come up here. It’s kidney failure.” As she spoke through her tears, I instantly began to cry. I had felt sad for months after that. 

In December of 2019, the adoptive dad of one of my closest friends committed suicide. She was torn apart, having had three people she knew died earlier that year. I stood by her side and watched her cry. We colored together in the counseling room, making small talk and doing anything I could to comfort her. 

From late February into March, another one of my closest friends revealed to me a traumatic experience she went through. She had been raped by a classmate of mine, one who I considered to be good acquaintances. She was a grade younger than me, and was practically completely dependent on me and my friend, as she was too scared to tell her parents. She eventually completely relied on my friend as I became shoved out of the problem. Her story and the amount of support required from her, which she never gave back to me throughout our friendship, made me realize at that moment I had hit rock bottom. I was tired and so sick of it all. This sentence that I'm about to say is one I've never admitted to anyone: I didn't want to be around anymore, or at least alive. I needed somewhere to escape. I didn't want to commit suicide due to expectations I held upon myself. I was also too scared to commit suicide. 

I finally admitted I needed help, which was scary for me to do. In March of you, 2020, I was diagnosed with situational depression. I was soon put on an anti-depressant. It felt good to put a name on it, but little did I know I would pay the price for my relief. Preparing to go off to college, I needed to get a First Class Medical Certificate in order to apply to the flight program at the colloege I wanted to go to. I went and got my FAA Medical Certificate done, ticking off the boxes on my journey to fulfill my life long dream of becoming a pilot. 

Spring Break came and after watching schools around me close, it was announced that we wouldn't be returning until mid April, and then the end of April, then until May. I quickly realized it wasn't possible to return and that unbeknownst to me I had already spent the last days of my Senior year at school in March. A frantic question was suddenly formed amongst my classmates and soon the world: Will the class of 2020 graduate? I, being burnt out, didn't care what would happen to me or my class. We soon became a laughing stock and a sight to pity around the world. Class of 2020, Corona Class, The Class that would be telling this story to their kids. It didn't matter to me. As I held up the “Class of 2020″ shirt my uncle got me with the zeros as tp rolls, I sighed. I just wanted to graduate without getting laughed at. Spoiler Alert: That didn't happen. 

Around this time I ended my friendship with the girl who I cherished but didn't cherish me back. I still to this day can’t exactly understand why I did that. I blocked her and left without saying goodbye. That wasn’t the right thing to do at all. She had been raped and needed support, but here I was leaving her. She always needed and wanted my support but never gave it back. It was always “Aw you have a problem? Here, let’s try this minimal effort plan to help you. That didn’t work? Oh well, let’s get back to me.” This is no excuse at all for my actions of cutting her off. I really still don’t know why I did this. I had hung out with her everyday in the summer of 2019. Here I was, easily letting her go. Jackie, I’m so sorry. I hope you are doing well and get into ISU to follow your dreams of being an engineer. 

In May I received news that still hurts and effects me to this day. I had been denied my Medical Certificate. It wasn't due to me being on an antidepressant, is was due to the fact that I was depressed. This was soul crushing news, but there was still a chance I could reapply for the Medical Certificate if I jumped through multiple hoops. May also provided the announcement that my safe haven in Oshkosh, Wisconsin wouldn't be happening this year. It was definitely understandable due to the virus, but still very saddening to me. It’s really the only thing I look forward to each year, but I understood and agreed on why it was canceled for 2020.

In June I got the news that a beloved teacher of my family and I passed away due to a heart attack and complications of Addison’s Disease. She was the best math teacher I had ever had, and the best in my High School. Math is my worst subject, but she never made me feel stupid like the other math teachers. She always made sure I understood what I was doing. Sometimes when she didn’t feel like having class she would have a free day. She would gossip with my classmates and tell us stories of her youth. Sometimes though she would give us free days due to having intense migraines that sometimes hospitalized her due to her disease. It wasn’t fun to see her like that. 

In June she was hospitalized where even her husband and two kids weren’t allowed in to see her. The only person allowed into her before she died was her twin brother. The family decided to have a public funeral, with tons of people in the community and school district socially distancing and wearing masks to pay their respect. I began to cry as I listened to her husband tell everyone that he wasn't ready and was so scared to be a single parent. Their children were both under ten, and were now motherless. Mrs. Johnson it was so hard saying goodbye to you. I loved you so much, and I still do. You gave my friend who had lost her dad food and comfort. You did so much not only for my family and I, but for everyone in the community and school district. I miss you so much. 

Hot days came with hazy skies. Everyday I checked the wildfire smoke map as I watched the sun turn bright pink as the sun became a blazing red when the sun went down. For weeks our sky looked hazy. Some days looked cloudy, but it was actually smoke. As someone who lives the Midwest, this was quite surprising. 

In August I experienced something that will forever be remembered by me and everyone who lives in my state. A Derecho tore through and ravaged my hometown and the state that I dearly love. We watched through the window as trees snapped in half and branches and leaves whirled around everywhere. We watched through the window as water roared down the road, appearing as if a stream had started right next to us. We watched in fear as shingles were torn off and large items were blown through our yard. As the electricity flickered out, we wondered if we would be crushed by either tree that were on two sides of our house. Wet leaves were torn apart and slammed into our window, where they stayed there for a month afterwards. They looked like confetti, torn into thousands of tiny pieces. 

To the branches and trees I still see today in the neighboring towns and cities, broken reminders of the damage done. To you, the metal grain bins that still sit out in the flattened cornfields. Our once tall and proud cornfields that are a proud symbol of my state were now flattened to the ground, completely parallel to the rich farming soil that it stood in. Painting the countryside in flat waves of green with splotches of silver from grain bins and white from barns and houses damaged. Our proud stalks became damaged goods that costed us billions. To the buildings that still show their battle scars from months ago, the houses with the tarps on their roofs and the old wooden barns that couldn't handle the 140 mph. To you, Donald J, Trump, the President of the United States who was supposed to tour Cedar Rapids to exam the damage that still lies there today. You stayed in the airport and immediately left after getting your business done. You didn't care about us, you were there to do business and leave to start your campaigning.

My small town was able to clean up within a month or so, but even still TODAY the bigger cities are littered with damage. There are tree trunks and branches scattered along roads. Thousands of houses still have tarps on their houses and siding missing. 

In August my grandma was also diagnosed with Dementia. I've watched her deteriorate over the past few months. Every time we call she forgets that I’m not in school. Sometimes she forgets my name. When we tell her we’re on our way to visit outside her window, she forgets within 10 minutes. Grandma, I hope you never forget that I love you.

In September I finally met with a therapist. I am so thankful to be working with her. After months of my family getting angry and upset at me for being scared to go to the store, my therapist diagnosed me with Social Anxiety. I was so relieved to be diagnosed with it and to be working out the issues I have with my therapist. We work together weekly to help me become a better and more comfortable version of myself. 

Over the summer months the health of my already diseased cat took a steep decline. She was my cat, and I felt powerless as I slowly watched her die. She could no longer stay inside due to her having constant accidents. As we made our plan to take her to the vet to give her a peaceful death, I received a heartbreaking call from my mother on a cold September night. My little Jill had passed away in her sleep on our porch. I came over to say goodbye to my baby as I pet her cold fur one last time. I love you my little Jilly Bean and I miss you everyday. I miss and love you so so so much. 

September also brought the news that a precious B-25 had a crash landing. It always hurts to hear about a Warbird crashing or getting damaged. I was happy to hear though that they were going to fix it back to airworthiness.

In October I had to make a difficult decision with the FAA. Do I try to visit four different doctors for phycological examinations in order to complete my Medical Certificate or do I wait to get off my medicine and start feeling better on my own? I opted for the second part due to the decline of visiting all of those doctors coming up in November. We had been given that option early in the year, but Covid prevented us from traveling out of state to see those doctors. I sent a letter to the FAA to let them know what I was doing. I received a letter about a month ago that stated that I still needed to visit those doctors or something like that. I honestly didn’t look through it that well because it’s just such a pain in the butt.

Another thing about you 2020 is that you provided me with he opportunity to meet amazing people. I began to watch The Umbrella Academy in September, but I decided to make my account on October 1st. I’ve met tons of funny and talented people on here. The show itself had provided me tons of comfort. It has given me the courage to start writing fanfiction for it along with starting back up on drawing fanart

The end of 2020 has slowed down for me. One of my aviation heroes died this year, Mr. Chuck Yeager. It was heartbreaking for me to hear that. One of the worst days for me was ironically on my birthday in December. I felt really bitter and down and just wanted to sit in my room, but I didn’t. I don’t like celebrating my birthday anymore. As I get older it feels less and less special and in turn I feel sad about it. Another reason why is that I don’t like having a fuss made about it. I don’t like the attention from it haha. It’s okay though because even though this year I felt upset I eventually felt a bit happier as it turned to night. 

This year I witnessed history being made. Let me be clear that history is made every year, but this year was very eventful. I witnessed innocent black lives being slaughtered by the very people who are sworn to protect everyone. It’s so disappointing and soul crushing to see all of this. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear on here, but I strongly stand with the BLM movement. I may not understand what they haven been going through for decades, but I stand with them to make things right. Black Lives Matter, not All Lives. All Lives only matter when it’s actually true and Black Lives are included. If you saw a house on fire in an entire block of houses, you wouldn’t say “All Houses Matter!” No they don’t, that house on fire matters. Black Lives Fucking Matter, and All Cops Are Bastards.

To you, the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyday in elementary school I proudly held my right hand over my heart as I stared up at Old Glory and recited you. This year helped me realize that “With liberty and justice for all.” is total bullshit. The only thing I truly appreciate about my country now is the scenery and nature it provides. 

To you 2020, as I finish writing this letter on December 31st. You’ve made me cry a lot, including right now. You’ve deeply effected my life and brought me lots of sorrow. Despite all of this, I don't feel upset about you. Yes, you gave me some events that will always haunt me but that’s okay. 2020 even though you’ve hurt me, you’ve also shaped me. Yes, you also made my lose faith in my country and humanity, but I can only hope for the best. You’ve pushed me to become a better version of myself. 

So to you 2020, you’ve been a hell of a year. I’ve hated and loved you, but mostly hated you. I went through some shit, but others have gone through worse this year. To those of you who have had a very hard time this year, I love you. I sincerely hope things get better for you. Friend or stranger, you can always rely on me as someone to talk to, to rant or vent to, and to cry to. This year was excruciating, but don’t give up. It has ended and a new year has begun. Sure 2021 may also be bad and we’re all exhausted from 2020, but let’s fight till the end. 

The Caged Bird (Part 3) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 2 Part 4

Summery: For the Gods of Life and Death, loneliness seemed a heavy thing to bare when confronted with the prospect of facing it for an eternity, even with each other. That is until a chance encounter with a certain someone prompts them to think that just maybe, that lonely eternity can be abated, as long as they have the right person to share it with.

Side Note: This is a prequel to my other Yandere!Erasermic story called Divine Intervention. If you have not read that one yet, I highly recommend you go and do that before reading this one.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just some light stalking.

“Thank you so much for your purchase!”

Today was proving to be a rather profitable day as you sold your herbs and salves at the market. You came into the village at least twice a week or more during the spring and summer months to sell the herbs and salves you made. The money you made doing this bought a good chunk of the meat and rice you ate during the fall and winter. You grew and stored as many vegetables as you could and you were proficient enough to catch a few rabbits once in a while, but there was only so much you could do when you live alone. Not to mention the cloth you would need to make some warmer clothing, the ones you have been reusing were starting to get worn down.

Looking up at the sky, you spotted the sun just starting to dip behind the western mountains. It was officially time to pack up and head home. It was only two miles, but you really weren't keen on traversing the mountain road in the dark, no matter how well you knew the path.

“Are you heading home now (Y/N)?” Your neighbor in the stall next to you asked as he began closing up as well.

“Yes, it's starting to get late and I still have a bit of a walk home ahead of me. I should be back next in a few days though to start buying my winter stock.” You replied, closing up your medicine chest and heaving it onto your back.

“I still cannot believe you choose to live all the way out there instead of here in the village. Especially with how hard the winters can be around here.” He said good-naturedly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It's really not that bad. As long as I plan right for the winter, I generally have nothing to worry about.” You shrug your shoulders, used to the other villagers concerns for your well-being.

“Still, please make sure you hurry home as quick as you can, and don't stray from the road. You never know what kind of dangers could be lurking out in those woods.”

You finish saying your goodbyes, waving off his words of worry just as you always have. You've walked that path hundreds of times and no harm has ever befallen you. What dangers could there possibly be?

----------

Everything was bathed in the colors of twilight, orange and yellow casting a warm but eerie glow over everything it touched. As a little girl, you had often been told by your parents and other relatives that if you were caught playing out at this time, you would get spirited away by demons. Obviously it had just been a tall tale meant to scare you into returning home before nightfall, but it hadn't stopped you from staying out as long as possible in an effort to catch sight of a real life demon. It always ended in a stern scolding from your parents.

Now though, you may not have been a child any more and you certainly didn't believe in demons at all either, but you did still enjoy this time of day. Everything was quiet, save for the light breeze rustling the green leaves on the trees and the cries of cicadas. It was a perfect summer evening on the mountain, and you greatly enjoyed having all this time to yourself.

You were enjoying the peaceful mood so much that you failed to notice the sound of footsteps behind you, until a hand landed on your shoulder and you let out a blood curdling scream that sent a few birds flying from their branches.

You whipped around to see two unfamiliar young men. One had long blonde hair tied back in a neat braid and wide green eyes, dressed in a simple green robe with a yellow sash. The other looked less put together with messy shoulder length black hair, tired looking dark eyes and a bit of stubble, he was dressed in a black and white robe held in place by a gray sash. Both were given you apologetic looks, so you assumed that they weren't about to hurt you. You hoped not at least…

“C-can I help you?” You managed to stutter out, still a bit shook from your sudden spike of fear.

It was the blonde who spoke first. “Sorry for startling you miss, but you wouldn't happen to be the young lady who took care of the cardinal with the broken wing, would you?”

Instantly your tight posture was beginning to ease, perhaps due to the relaxing timber of the man's voice or even the topic he was bringing up, you weren't sure which. “Umm, yes I am. Are you the birds owners?”

The other man spoke next. “Yes. It’s trained to come back home when we let it out. We were both rather worried when it never came home until a few days ago. When we were in the market today, we overheard someone talking about a girl trying to find the owner of a cardinal with a broken wing. We naturally assumed that the bird in question was ours.”

“Yes!” The blonde pitched in eagerly, a large smile taking over his face. “We heard that you lived in the same direction as us and when we saw you walking ahead of us we wanted to thank you personally. Our apologies again for scaring you the way we did.”

You smiled at them politely, it was nice to know the bird had found its way home. But one thing about their story did stand out to you as odd though. “I'm very glad to hear that. But, may I ask one question?” Both men nodded, still sporting smiles, the blondes much bigger than his friends. “You said you live in this area, but I’ve never seen you around at all. Ever.”

“We live a ways up the mountain, past the break in the road. We hardly ever leave home for much, we both prefer a life of solitude and usually have what we need delivered to us. I can count on one hand the number of times we've left our property to venture into the village. Right Hizashi?” The blonde nodded along enthusiastically.

That would make sense, you thought, there is that section of the road that veers off, leading further up the mountain and into the forest. And if these men were as reclusive as they claimed to be, it would go a long way in explaining how you had never met them before. You couldn't judge them too much, you yourself were a bit of a recluse after all, always preferring the company of the forest to large crowds, your only exception being your family and the trips you made into town.

“Well then, allow me to introduce myself, my name is (Y/N).” These men had quite politely thanked you for the care you had shown their pet, the least you could do before parting ways was introduce yourself to them properly.

“It's nice to meet you Sweetling, my name is Yamada Hizashi, and my stoic counterpart here is Aizawa Shouta!” His eyes were alight with some happy emotion you couldn't quite place, very different from his partner who by sheer contrast, wore an expression that straddled the line between boredom and just plain not caring. They were as different as night and day, and you found yourself wondering what their relationship to each other was since they said they lived together. Were they friends? Relatives? Business partners? Lovers? But you didn't voice these inquiries, you had only just met them and did not wish to come off as rude.

But you let go of those thoughts when you realize how low the sun has gotten, the heavy shade from the surrounding forest making the path hard to see. “It's very nice to meet you as well, but I should probably head home now. If it gets any darker I won't be able to see the way at all.” You hurriedly said, raising your hand to wave goodbye to the two mysterious men.

“We’ll walk you to the break in the road since we're heading that way as well. After all, you can never be too careful and it just wouldn't feel right leaving a pretty young lady like you on her own.” Shouta said, the briefest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You smiled yourself, turning to face them. “That would be much appreciated, I’ve walked this path more times than I can remember, but I still don't care for walking it in the dark.”

“Then we will be happy to escort you Sweetling. Just let us lead the way.” Hizashi stepped forward to take a stance at your right, while Shouta took to your left. “Shall we?”

With that the three of you set off down the path, the walk feeling much quicker than usual when filled with the jokes and laughter the two men -mostly Hizashi- seemed intent on forcing from you. You were a bit disappointed to see how quickly you had reached your destination.

“Are you sure you don't want us to walk you the rest of the way to your home? We really don't mind having to double back.” Shouta asked quietly, glancing between you and the road.

You shake your head, both flattered and embarrassed by their insistence. “No, it's alright. Now that we're not surrounded by trees, the moonlight is lighting the path just fine. And besides, it's a relatively short walk from here to my home. I will be fine.” You flashed them a heartwarming smile. “Thank you again for the company, it was nice.”

Shouta cleared his throat, a light blush that you couldn't see in the dark dusting his cheeks. “Alright then Kitten, if you're sure.”

You blushed profusely at the nickname. First ‘Sweetling’ and now 'Kitten’. It was strange to be sure, how familiar they were being with you, but you simply chalked it up to them not caring for social conventions. They were homebodies after all.

“Just please be safe on your way. We would hate it if something were to happen to you.” Hizashi said, both of them reaching out to give your forearms a light squeeze.

You blush more at their brazen touches, but nonetheless wish them a safe trip home as well before you turn and begin walking away. The days events catching up to you just as you reach your door and you go straight to bed. You'll put everything away tomorrow, you think, slowly slipping off into slumber. 

You never even noticed the two extra figures standing inside the shadows of your home, green and red eyes watching you, greedily drinking in the sight of you and all your vulnerability.

“It won't be long now (Y/N). Soon we'll have everything ready to bring you home.”

“Just wait a little longer for us.”

TBC in Part 4!

I hope you all enjoy!

Atsui Springs- Part 3

|| Fan fic part 3/5? Synopsis: After discovering his two best friends doing the dirty on his own bed, Genesis’ world is turned upside down. Now, the two of them have a lover’s getaway planned at Atsui, an elite resort famed for their hot springs. But not everything appears at it seems. And Genesis inexplicably finds himself crashing the getaway but discovering a truth hidden right beneath his nose. Featured ships: My guilty pleasure, OT3. NSFW: Yes, but not in this part Word Count: 2829

Part 1: Uninvited Guest Part 2: Awe

Part 3: Unraveling

At the summit, the view could not have been clearer. Even in his unhappiness, Genesis had to appreciate how beautiful it was, and how inviting the hot water in a large pool appeared. Settled in the natural depression of the mountainside, the spring had multiple layers, giving access to varied seating which had been smoothed down as to eliminate any jagged edges or corners. Off to the side of the pool was a small, unattended stand stocked with towels and other commodities such as incense, foods, and water. Setting his towel to the side, Genesis slipped in, wincing at first at the sheer heat of the pool. But after some adjustment, the redhead let out a pleasured sigh. Heat completely enveloped his sore body. Wading closer to the center where it was deeper, Genesis allowed the water to rise to about his nose and shut his eyes. Weightless, he let his heavy thoughts and feelings dissipate into the water. It was no wonder this was the honeymoon suite. Although for something of this quality, Genesis could not even imagine the cost. Even his own parents had gone once, and they were more on the social elite side as it was. Then again, time was also a constraint, one which they never seemed to have.

It was peculiar as it was sad. Of all of them, Angeal was the most miserly. He scraped and saved every last gil he earned, cut corners, scoured thrift stores, always finding the best deal. He was always sacrificing quality for quantity. But Genesis supposed it was all for a reason. It was beyond clear to him that Angeal would go to extreme lengths to care and provide for those he loved--

…Sephiroth did not even know how lucky he was. How could he? Only someone who had grown up with Angeal could see the depth of sacrifices he made. Only he really understood what Angeal gave up on a daily basis. And while, from time to time, Genesis caved into Angeal’s tendency to spoil, even he tried not to make it a habit. If he did… he would undoubtedly rot to the core. Hell, even as someone Angeal was not romantically interested in, Genesis already felt spoiled.

What then… would it be liked to be loved by him?

It was a dangerous thought, and Genesis knew it. But like his body, his heart too felt sore. Blowing bubbles from beneath the surface of the water, the redhead signaled his discontent. …He supposed it would be like basking in the sunshine. Worries, troubles, heartaches all evaporating away with laughter and kisses. They would spend every hour together if possible. Genesis would always be up to some sort of scheme. Angeal would voice his concern but come along. Sephiroth would—ah… Sephiroth was there too. The more he thought about it, the less he could picture it any other way. It simply would not feel right without the silver elite’s sarcasm, his smug smirk, and lofty attitude.

There was no escaping it. Because while Angeal was sunshine, Sephiroth was laughter. He was a catalyst that simultaneously made Genesis infuriated with him and… adore him. It was a dizzy dance in untold chaos and mirth. The greatest mistake to make around Sephiroth was to think you knew him. Genesis found himself surprised more times than he could count.

Laughing through his nose, Genesis shook his head. Of all the people out there, just how was it the two he loved and cherished above everything else were involved with each other? And while Genesis was unable to choose one above the other… apparently… they could.

“Genesis, are you alive over there?” Angeal’s familiar voice called to him, the ripples in the water and slosh of movement indicating he had entered the pool.

Exerting the least amount of energy possible, Genesis shifted to face Angeal who, at first, started to wade out. Ultimately, he sat down on an outcrop of layered rock, the water coming to about his chest.

“Hnnn…” He hummed in affirmation, eyes half-lidded as they settled on Angeal’s figure. He was attractive. He always had been. Who was not attracted to the finely toned and bulky bear of a man that looked he could break a tree on his knee? Especially when Genesis knew just how tender his hands could be? Feeling somewhat light-headed, he waded closer, to the shallow end of the pool, letting out a soft groan.

Angeal leaned forward as though ready to act at a moment’s notice.

“Barely…” Genesis finally said with a smile, idly rubbing the spot on his arm where Sephiroth had gripped in the elevator. It was surprisingly sore. Glancing down, he discovered a new bruise, not that it was recent. By the looks of it, it was probably a week or so old. Shaking his head, Genesis returned his gaze to Angeal, who, while looking at him was… distracted.

He was looking at the bruises, no doubt. He seemed particularly fixated on the one around his neck, the clear imprint of fingers digging in apparent.

Genesis gave a dismissive wave. “I already told you its fine. I… like it rough, remember?” He said with a flippant smile. And while true, it was only in part. In theory, Genesis almost liked the idea of little love marks claiming his skin, reminding him of just who it was he belonged to. But these flings were nothing like that. Commitment was… the last thing any of them wanted. And it did not matter how many he slept with. None of them could do in an entire night what Angeal or Sephiroth could do with a soft touch or word.

The craving they had created was intense as it was ravenous. Perhaps that was why he had shown up here, despite himself. Genesis could not stay away even if he wanted to.

Sighing heavily, Angeal looked down at the water. “Genesis… can I ask you something?”

Crossing his arms, the redhead felt the rise of a lump at his throat. “Yeah…”

“The people you meet at the bar… they… do you care for any of them?” He said, looking up with an expression that struck Genesis. It was… frightened, and… if he dared even think it, on the verge of… heartbreak.

Genesis shook his head. “They are only in it for the sex. So am I.” Only, it was a means to an end. Genesis knew it. He knew it at his core that the flesh on flesh contact was little more than a replacement. It was the mindless consumption of sweets to fill an empty stomach while the waft of comforting, hearty food filled the air. It only drove his hunger.

But he could not eat.

He knew this. And yet, it did not stop him either. If Genesis deceived himself enough, sometimes, he could trick himself into believing that the hands-on his throat was love, that his pleas for cessation was ignored out of love, and his body left unsatisfied and broken for love.

“…Does that… really make you happy?” Angeal asked quietly, voice tight.

“I’ll… take what I can get.” Genesis replied.

“Genesis.” Angeal’s voice rose higher, muscles tensing. His shoulders shook in the suppression of something that Genesis refused to let himself think about.

… Even if Angeal did not love him… It did not mean he did not care. He knew this.

He knew what had convinced himself to come for that reason. For Angeal, what was one more death in his heart? Perhaps if Genesis deceived himself long enough, he would be happy for them. His heart would mend, and they could all be… happy.

And then, Angeal shook his head. “Look at what they do to you. They thrash you around like a ragdoll. Why… why do you let yourself suffer?”

Expression hardening, Genesis snapped. “Not… everyone has it as good as you. Not everyone gets what they want.” The redhead stood up, face contorted in anger. “You can call it messed up all you like-- Is it really so wrong to want to feel important? To feel loved?”

“Of… of course not. But I—the both of us. We… worry for you.” Angeal’s voice trembled.

“Well don’t. You have better things to worry about me now, don’t you?” Genesis spat, the venom pouring out from his tongue before he had a chance to swallow it back down. Now, it oozed from him like an infected sore.

Taken aback, Angeal stammered, “G-genesis, what are you saying?”

Genesis scoffed. “You know exactly what I am saying. Or are you going to say you weren’t fucking Seph in my bed?”

“You are misunderstanding—”

“Exactly what am I misunderstanding? The two of you have been together a while, right? And please, before you try to lie, I am not stupid. I know a lovebird when I see one. Or two. But I kept telling myself it was in my head. I kept believing every fucking lie you told me because it was easier than the truth. And you know what? At least at the bar, I know the kind of people I take to bed. They will fuck and take whatever the hell they want from me. But with you… You and Sephiroth? … I… I thought I knew better.” His voice cracked as he sniffled.

While Angeal was speechless, Genesis waded to the edge of the pool, snatching up his towel. Angrily, he stormed away from the spring. Away from Angeal. Away from that stupid conversation that always cropped up when he least expected.

When he made it to the zen garden, he was almost surprised to cross paths with Sephiroth who had showered, a towel around his waist. The two made eye contact for a moment before Genesis snapped his head away and continued his way into the room.

Once alone, the door slid shut behind him, Genesis found his back against the wall, sliding down until he crumbled into a miserable pile on the floor. He felt the bile on his tongue, the corrosive acid of his own words eating at his soul. All he could see was Angeal’s expression. The horror, the powerlessness… the fear. In all their time in SOLDIER, there had been a rift between them. It had been subtle back then, their fights infrequent, but ever on the back burner, ever unresolved. Tempers frayed. Normally, it turned into a shouting match before one or the other left.

This time, it was different. Angeal looked… devastated. And Genesis hated it. By this point, Angeal probably hated him. And for all his bravado, the redhead could not find a reason why he shouldn’t. No matter how Genesis looked at it, he was the center of the problem. He was the only one who had a problem. He was a fire—a crying, burning, liar. He consumed, expanded, and destroyed.

Why would anyone love him?

What was there to love?

What did he even have to offer? Passion?

What… was it he was lacking? Perhaps it was honor. Perhaps it was self-sacrifice. Perhaps it was neither of these, and it was something that Genesis simply was incapable of understanding. For some reason, whatever it was, Sephiroth seemed to have it. And no matter how he tried to emulate, tried to prove that he had it, he always fell short.

Breathe. He needed to breathe. From atop the boiling temperatures of his heart, he needed to sink. Genesis needed to drown the fire that had driven him so. If he did not feel the way he did, none of this would be a problem. Love, it seemed, was only kind to some. Nurturing, thoughtful, and loving to the blessed, it was corrosive, dark, and all-consuming otherwise.

Pulling himself together and off the floor, Genesis glanced towards the sliding door. His uniform was still near the springs. Retrieving them at the risk of another interaction was the least of his desires.  He looked around, opening the sliding door to the bedroom where a large futon lay front and center, a bathroom adjacent to it. In a dresser, he located some spare robes, laughing emptily to himself.

They were all going to be monstrous, considering Sephiroth and Angeal’s size. It did not matter of the three stacks he selected, so he pulled one out and slid it on his body. As expected, the robe nearly touched the floor, the shoulders barely managing to stay on his comparatively lean frame. And so, he simply let tied off the robe so it gave him some semblance of decency but allowed the shoulders to slide off his own so the fabric bunched near his elbows instead.

Briefly, Genesis slipped into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy. So, it was showing on his face now, huh? And for one who prided himself in his clever concealment of his softer emotions, it was… distressing. He looked horrible. If only… there was a way to make it stop. Lightly, he traced along the darkened flesh around his neck. If there was a way to suffocate these feelings…

His fingers slid around his throat. He shut his eyes as though to submerge his consciousness. But voices carried from the open window above him caught his attention. At first, it was just noise, but as they came closer to the room, he could pick out words.

“…will be fine. I won’t let him slip away so easily next time.” Sephiroth said with a benign tone, one geared to comfort.

Angeal sighed loudly. “We can hope.”

The sliding door in the back opened, and Genesis let his hand fall to his side. It would not happen again. Turning on the sink, Genesis washed his face, scrubbing away the hurt, the venom, and anything else that would break his façade.

The sound of running water apparently caught Angeal’s attention, as his form filled the bathroom door, expression a mixture of surprise and nervousness. “G… genesis… you…”

Standing up with a smile, Genesis regarded Angeal through the mirror softly nodding. “Let’s… forget about it, love. No need to spoil the fun.”

“…” Silent a moment, Angeal processed the words carefully. Ultimately, he let out another of those loud sighs, but at least appeared to be relieved. “… Maybe… now isn’t the time. But I wish to talk to you later.”

Grimacing, Genesis glanced over his shoulder. “Of course. … The two of you came back early.” He changed subjects, unsure if he really meant what he had said.

“I… was hungry.” Angeal gave a weak smile, but he was a terrible liar. It was endearing, really. At times, Genesis contemplated teaching his childhood friend how to put on a face but… it did not seem necessary. Angeal had no reason to hide.

“You and your stomach.” Genesis teased, backing away from the sink, approaching the door, but Angeal did not budge. Not at first. But after the two maintained eye contact for a couple of uneasy seconds, Angeal let him through. “Good thing there’s so much food then. I reckon you’ll grow another foot by the end of it.”

Shaking his head, Angeal followed him back to the main room like a lost puppy. At the table already was Sephiroth, arms crossed, legs splayed lazily with a single-arm resting on a propped knee, his other hand behind him for support. His feral look was trained on Genesis as he lowered himself down on the cushion across from Sephiroth.

“Anyone ever tell you that you could kill a man with that look?” Genesis remarked returning the look full on. It was not as though he were not used to by that intent, unblinking stare by now but… somehow it made him feel… uneasy now. It was like Sephiroth was already working to rip apart his newly crafted mask.

Sephiroth scoffed. “Yes.” And then his gaze lowered, this time to Genesis’ exposed shoulders. “You do know you have your own robes, right?”

Frozen, the redhead’s brain scrambled. For how large Angeal and Sephiroth were, surely, they had to custom order theirs. Then again, Genesis was more average. It would be easy to throw together a couple for his uninvited intrusion. Biting his lip, Genesis gave a nonchalant shrug, the motion unintentionally causing it to slide some down his back.

“I liked yours better.” He smirked, puckering his lips up cheekily.

Sephiroth’s expression was priceless. Those feline slits of his warbled wider, like a cat intrigued before they narrowed even thinner than they were before. He shifted, leaning over the table as he reached forward, passing by the small banquet laid as a divider between them. And then, took hold of a small carafe of liquid, using his other hand to unstack a small set of sake cups. He poured the liquid slowly into each.

“Genesis… lets… play a game.” He said, a near purr at his throat. To be continued

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

Ready to answer 151 Questions? No.

1. When was the last time you swam in a pool? Last week. I am extremely grateful to have access to a pool this summer. It’s at my sister’s mother in law’s. She lets my sister and her daughters use it while she’s at work and I tag along too.  2. Do you like to party? I love throwing parties. Not like, huge drunk ragers, but bday parties are my specialty.  3. If your ex suddenly kissed you right now, what would you do? I’ve been social distancing myself from them for almost 10 years, so. 4. Are you a virgin? Nope. 5. What are your parents views on your relationships? My dad likes Mark.

6. If you ran into your current boyfriend/crush in 10 years, would you marry them? I am married to my crush.  7. Is your best friend dating anyone? One is. 8. Describe the shirt you’re wearing? It’s an olive green shirt with the Route 66 logo on it. 9. Do people who wear Hollister and Abrerbrombie every day bother you? I really don’t care. 10. Could you go out in public without wearing make-up? I do that 99.99% of the time. 11. What is one feature that you don’t like? On myself? My stomach. 12. Would people describe you as happy? Not currently.  13. Are you single? Nope. 14. Does it bother you that pretty much every survey you take asks if you’re single? Nah. 15. Do you have Tumblr? I really only use it for this, which I also haven’t done in a while either.

16. What about Xanga? Aww, RIP Xanga. 17. Have you ever babysat before? Yes. 18. Is there a teacher who you absolutely hate? Most of my college professors.  19. Ever shopped at Sephora? I think I’ve been in one before? 20. If your current boyfriend/crush suddenly moved away, what would you do? I mean, I’d be pretty shocked and hurt. 21. Do you have any university plans? Lol. 22. If your best friend revealed she was a homosexual, what would you do? Support her?  23. What are your views on sex? Be safe! Always get consent! 24. Do sexual questions bother you? No. 25. Would you rather have sex with your boyfriend or break up? Uh, what? 26. Have you ever dreamed about your wedding? Yeah. 27. Does it bother you when people TYpe 1yk dis’? Yeah, I don’t see too much of it anymore. 28. Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? Yes. 29. Would you ever date a friends Ex? I did that once oops. 30. What’s the last book you read? I’m still working on a couple. 31. Ready for 10 simple questions? Sure. 32. What is your last name? No. 33. What grade are you in? No. 34. What school do you go to? No. 35. Summer, Fall, Winter or Spring? Summer and early fall.  36. Favorite Color? Purples and blues. 37. Are your parents together? My father is widowed.  38. Any siblings? I have an older sister. 39. Favorite subject? Eh.

40. Least favorite subject? Eh. 41. Favorite song? I could never just choose one. 42. Okay. Simple questions are over. Happy? I don’t care. 43. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 200 something. 44. Ever been requested by some old guy from another country? Probably. 45. Have you ever googled yourself? Yeah. 46. Have a Formspring? No. 47. You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? Take them and sell them :P 48. Would you rather spend the day at an amusement park or a water park? Waterpark. Ughhhhhhhhh I miss waterparks so much. It’s so weird to not be going this summer. 49. Been to Disney world? Nope. 50. If someone posts their status “9 Inches :(” do you know what they mean? Sounds like one of those things where people post a random status from a list of things that will likely get people’s attention and whoever comments on it is privately sent said list of thing and they then choose something to post as their status and so on. That was a popular game thing on Facebook years ago. <---Yeah, that. 51. Ever had a boyfriend? Yes.

52. Ever had a huge crush on someone who still doesn’t know? I doubt Will Arnett knows I’m in love with him. 53. Have you done something in the last week that you regret? No. 54. Ever drank alcohol? Yes. 55. Know anyone who’s currently doing drugs? Yeah. 56. Ever watched The Hills? No. 57. What about Jersey Shore? Yes. 58. Ever called someone a slut? I’ve said that jokingly to friends. 59. What do you think of short shorts? You do you. 60. Does it bother you if people swear around you? Nope. 61. Have you ever gotten an A in a subject? Yes. 62. What about a B? Yes. 63. And a C? Yes. 64. How about a D? Yeah. 65. Ever skived? What’s that? 66. Would you consider yourself popular and outcast or somewhere in the middle? I’d say somewhere in the middle. I had friends, but I wasn’t “popular” by any means. 67. Are most of your friends older or younger than you? Most are older.  68. Ever been stabbed in the back by a close friend? Yes. 69. Do you think it’s immature when people laugh at the number 69? Oops. 70. Ever watched porn? Yes. 71. How many laws do you think you’ve broken in the past month? I drove with out a seat belt (for a few blocks) and jay walked oops.  72. Do you wake up with an alarm clock? On work days, yes. 73. Do you prefer Wednesdays or Thursdays? Wednesdays.  74. If your school had a Glee Club would you join? No. 75. Ever performed in a talent show? No. 76. Have you ever cried in public? Yeah. 77. Do you have a favorite between your Mom and your Dad? I’ve always had a special bond with my dad. I love my mom, but we butt heads a lot when I was a teenager. I feel like our bond was getting stronger just before she died and I’m really sad we don’t get to know each other as we got older.  78. Would you audition for a reality talent competition? Nooo. I have zero talent. 79. How many celebrity crushes have you had? A lot. 80. How many non-celebrity crushes have you had? A lot. 81. Name 5 male celebrities who you think are attractive. Will Arnett, Paul Rudd, John Mulaney, Andy Samberg, Ezra Koenig 82. Name 5 female celebrities who you think are attractive. Aubrey Plaza, Alison Brie, Lana Del Rey, Alia Shawkat, Kat Dennings 83. Ever been compared to a celebrity? Ha, no. 84. Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? No. 85. Do you think spending £20 on Lip Gloss is a waste of money? Idk what that is in US dollars but I don’t usually buy lip gloss, so. 86. Are you opinionated? I can be. 87. Do you have a favorite store? Sure. 88. Would you ever wear Flare Jeans? I used to in grade school. 89. Do you own jeans that aren’t skinny? I have one pair of “boyfriend” jeans that I don’t really like.  90. Have you ever worn the same outfit twice in one week? Hello, pandemic? 91. What’s the longest period of time you’ve been away from school? I don’t know. 92. Do you google abbreviations you don’t understand? Yeah. 93. Does it bother you when people have cats as their profile picture? I don’t care? 94. Own a pair of converse? Yes. 95. Is there a teacher at your school who has obvious favorites? There was. 96. If yes, are you one of them? Never. 97. Do you text in class? I have. 98. What brand of jeans do you wear the most? Target. 99. At what point do you think sizes are “Plus Sized?” Fuck that shit. “Plus” implies that there is a standard size. 100. Do you want to lose weight? I’d like to be healthier.  101. Ever seen a therapist? No, but I should. 102. Ever watched porn? You asked me this.  103. Ever purposely ignored a text? Yes. 104. A facebook message? Yes. 105. A poke? I always ignored those. That was a dumb feature Facebook had. 106. A friend request? Yeah. I don’t accept a request from anyone I don’t know, but I have it set up where you can’t add me unless you are friends with someone I am friends with.  107. Would you say you read into things too much? Yepppp. 108. Is your best friend more likely to be the one suggesting something stupid or refusing to do something stupid? I don’t know. 109. Do you have a “fun friend?” (A friend who you have tons of fun with but you never really have deep conversations?) Eh. 110. Ever been called a bully? No. 111. Ever purposely hurt yourself? Yes. 112. Ever gone to church? I went to a Lutheran high school and we used to have “chapel” every first full school day of the week (usually mondays). That was kind of a church service. And one time I spent the night at a friends house on a Saturday and was blindsided the next morning when her parents were like “okay time for church!” 113. Would you call either of your parents screw ups? Absolutely not! 114. If you turned out exactly like your mom would you be pleased? Yes and no. 115. What do you want to do with your life? Lol.

116. Let me guess… You have brown hair? My roots right now are basically a really dirty blonde. And my tips were black but they are pretty brown right now. And hair inbetween is mint green lol. Pandemic hair ftw. 117. Already know what you’re being for Halloween? I’ll probably be Princess Carolyn again. Or just a bat, since I have both of those costumes.  118. Do you still go Trick or Treating? With my nieces, but we probably won’t be able to go this year :(  119. Ever liked someone WAY older than you? Celebrities. 120. Does it bother you when people have really loud conversations on the bus? Yes. 121. When you have sunglasses on, do you stare at people? I have. 122. Ever had a credit card denied? Yeah. 123. What’s the last movie you watched? Oh god, it’s been a while. I Love You Man, I think? 124. Last TV Show? Property Brothers, lol.  125. You see your Ex making out with one of your friends. What do you do? They wouldn’t.  126. Ever been called a whore? Jokingly. 127. Are you american? Yes. 128. Ever made yourself throw up? Yeah. 129. Have you ever kissed someone who wasn’t your boyfriend? Uh huh. 130. Are you Cute or Gross? Yes. 131. Does it bother you when people say “LOOK HOW MUCH YOU’VE GROWN!”? No one has said that to me in a very long time. I don’t recall being bothered by it, though. 132. Can you say intelligent things around the guy you like? Um, yes? Why couldn’t I? 133. Ever had the lead in a play? Not the lead, no. 134. What about a solo in a concert? Nope. 135. What kind of a student are you? I did okay in grade and high school. 136. Worst subject? All of college. 137. Best subject? Not college. 138. Ever had a crush on a teacher? Yeah. 139. Would it bother you if you found out that your mother was pregnant? Seeing as she’s dead, yeah, a little. 140. How late do you sleep in? On work days I sleep until the absolutely last minute, right before we are supposed to check in for a daily meeting at 7:10am, lol. And on weekends or days off I normally don’t sleep past 10.   141. Do you edit your profile pictures before posting them? A little. I brighten up my face and smooth it out. Sue me.  142. Be 100% honest. Do you have any friends who are uglier than you? All my friends are beautiful in their own ways.  143. Do you believe in love? Yes.  144. Would you consider yourself a good student? Didn’t you ask this? 145. Does it bother you when Surveys ask “Did you like this survey?” It just seems kinda pointless cause they likely won’t see it. 146. Salty, Sweet, Sour or Spicy? Yes.  147. Are you going into High School this year? Nooooo. Thank goodness. I did my time and graduated over 10 years ago. 148. What about Junior High? Omg, no. I’m old. 149. What is one thing someone could say to you right now that would make you cry? Ugh, anything.  150. Where did you find this note? @lovemesomesurveys 151. Last question. How many unread messages are in your phone? None. 

It's been a while. A lot of shit's been going on since I was last kinda active. Sorry, I dont remember how to hide this under a read more line... feel free to scroll past if you arent in the mood for existential whinging. I got a new job and it's pleasant. The people are nice. It's still food, but it's at a fancy restaurant where the management actually cares and tries to keep their crew happy. The hours could be better and I'm currently sick of salads with how many I've made. They give hours based on reliability and if you're a hard worker who is nice to work with. But like... everybody is nice and hard working so it's hard to just muscle in sometimes. But on the positive side I've dropped ten pounds, probably thanks to how light my wallet is. Had an issue with my little brother. Well, there's been an unspoken issue for years that I've been trying to just give him space on, but it finally came to a head. I called him out and he said some pretty hurtful things. I saw him on Christmas, but it wasnt the same. I think it kind of damaged something between us, or at the very least it certainly has me. I think, as people, we build these pillars of absolute truths into our identities. The things we know without a doubt, that we can rely on to stay true even when things are bad. Like, that the sky is blue or that a parent we have will always love us. When those truths are shaken they really make you wonder what else could be wrong or if there was ever any truth in it to begin with. For me, no matter how bad I felt or hated myself, I knew I could be a good sister. I'd throw myself down for it. I have done so, unfortunately, many times before. We all see the world a little differently, so my truth may not be the truth someone else sees. I dont know whether that makes it any better, but I certainly feel unsure about more things now than I used to. Some days I even feel like giving up on our relationship. I'm just too tired, too worn down, and I don't think I can handle being called a failure again. Which sucks, because I dont really want to. I just want to know how to fix it, even though I'm not sure I have any more energy to try again if it's just going to lead to another failure. And on top of all of that my bio dad and all those siblings are tasting the bitter consequences of their actions. My youngest sister got taken away from her parents because instead of breaking up and being adults about it they have to be petty and cowardly. One has unchecked anger issues mixed with plenty of excuses and the other thinks she's owed some sort of respect despite her immature actions. Thing is, I've had plenty of talks with my bio dad about the effects their toxic relationship have on his 6 year old daughter. He knows. He isnt stupid or blind. He'd just rather keep it going despite everyone's unhappiness and dig a deeper hole so he doesn't have to risk losing custody of his daughter if they break up. And here we are now. With his daughter taken away and given to our 21 year old sister who doesn't have a clue. And they've failed to regain custody once already. And you know the fucking hilariously tragic part of it? Me and my sister Des are the only two without some sort of record so nobody else in the family can help. Just a fucking warning for any teens out there who think being a gangster is cool, life always has consequence. Doing drugs, selling pills, pimping, stealing cars, assault, having unregistered weapons... my family has probably done just about anything. Apparently my bio dad's stepfather even threatened to shoot my grandma once. There's an argument to made about the environment they all grew up in, but I really wish people would just have the self awareness to realize that things will always find a way to bite you in the ass and it's it big enough then it'll get the people around you too. I normally get my sister on weekends, but I need to work Saturdays as a requirement for my employment. I try to cut it short so I can be there when they drop her off, but half the time they dont and send her somewhere she isnt supposed to go. I'm risking my job trying to be there when I'm needed, just for them to change their mind at the last second because I wasnt home soon enough. They'd rather risk losing our sister to the system by breaking the rules. CPS doesn't play around. I've had to tell them two or three times that I couldn't take our sister because I was sick or dealing with some really stressful family stuff that Koral didnt need to be there to see. Every time I feel like the punishment is that they stop letting me see her by not bringing her over anymore. Then out of the blue they call on a weekday and ask if I can take her because she has a day off or something. I have never once said no but every time it sends me into an anxiety attack because I can't handle being kept in the dark until they need me. It's got me so worked up that sometimes I genuinely wish I had never been told my dad wasnt my real dad. Of course, I know that by knowing I can help a little girl who needs help, but I wont lie and say that I never wished I didn't have time deal with any of it. I got the news today that my bio dad is in trouble for something else, though they wouldn't say what. So they arent going to give him custody until that's settled at the very least. Shortly into it my sister had asked me to take over the guardianship. I was so out of the loop that I thought the question was absurd. I thought they'd pull it together and get her back in a short time, so what would the point of moving her to another town and school be? How would I go about that? What would the home requirements be? Would I be able to provide for the both of us? I wouldn't be able to leave work until 4 at the earliest shift, so would after school stuff be best or daycare? There's so much that goes into taking care of a kid to just spring that question onto someone. Now it's been four or five months and I'm hating the idea that she's stuck there in the middle of it all more and more. People keep telling me I should take her. Even my manager after I broke down and told him everything after my sister's call left me a mess at work, said that I would be the better option. I know what it's like to be fought over in custody battles and I understand way too well the fear of being taken away from your home as well as what it's like to change schools. I dont want that for Koral. I dont even know if I would be the better option. I talked to my cousin, whom I live with, about it for a while last night and she said she wouldn't be opposed to having Koral with us... but I feel bad making this her issue too. I want what is best for my sister. She's way too smart. You know when unqualified pet owners get a dog breed that is really smart and they struggle to meet the needs to keep it entertained so it just makes trouble? That is what my sister is like. My family has their strengths, but Koral is 6 and could run circles both physically and mentally around them. It might be "funny" now, but Lansing itself is a shitty influence on people and by the time she's a teenager and wants to go to a party, nothing is going to keep her from getting out short of bars on the windows and doors. The only thing stopping her from doing it now is motive. But would I do any better? I genuinely dont know. I wish I could talk to my brother about it. He knows where I come from and, even if he thinks I failed, he could at least tell me how to be better so I dont fuck up again for a little girl who is in a situation similar to one we were in. I asked Des today if she wanted to talk to their case worker about transfering guardianship. She said she's have to talk to her dad... which is bullshit. He lost the right to dictate where Koral goes when he fucked up. How is he supposed to be motivated to fix this if the only thing that has changed is that she doesn't sleep in her bedroom anymore? He shouldn't see her when he wants to or be able to say what happens to her. And I dont say that because I think he shouldn't ever be able to, because I want him to step it up, I just feel like he wont if things keep going as they are. I dont want to lose my sister to the system. Supposedly the social worker said that Koral also has to stay in the same school and can't see anyone not on the already approved list of people for the sake of consistency... but that's stupid. I know that changing schools can be traumatizing, and if Lansing was a good place to live and raise a kid, then maybe I'd try to make that work, but it isnt. So it makes me wonder that if I came to the table with a clearly stable, appealing plan would they change their minds? If it were my choice, I'd have her in therapy to help deal with everything, maybe a sport like gymnastics or whatever else she might be interested in to keep her engaged. I'm planning a kids d&d session for her and another kiddo that she plays with when she's here because last time she found my monster manual and got obsessed. And I know it wont be all good. She's a handful and a brat, and she can be a force of nature when she doesn't get her way, but I've been an older sister since I was five and my family didnt out up with bratty behavior. I know how to deal with it, and I also know how to use the internet and other resources to learn. Hell, I live with a child therapist/youth minister. I know I could do it. Even if it ended up being a permanent thing. I'm torn between the fear of not being enough at the expense of my sister's wellbeing and knowing that I'd gladly twist myself into a pretzel to try and do right. But when it comes to other people, especially a kid, is trying enough? Good intentions don't equal a quality of living. So yeah, that's where I am right now. Trying to be better and figure out who I am while also being incredibly stressed out and lost. If you read through this, thank you for listening to this TED talk. I'm open to advice.