#unending physical pain they need to live with forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sheena-isa-punkrocker · 3 months

Text

Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo Fluff Alphabet

warning: reader's gender is not specifically stated but is hinted to be female in some paragraphs

A = Activities (What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

Miguel likes to spend quality time with you, period. After a long day at his office, he likes to come home to you sitting on the couch, watching tv. There he can lay his head in your lap or chest as you comb your fingers through his dark tresses, listening to him vent about the day or him listening about how your day was. He also likes doing small domestic tasks with you, helping you cook and washing the dishes afterwards. After dinner, when he can, he likes cuddling on the sofa while a movie is playing. He enjoys seeing your reactions to whatever the film plot is, your surprised gasps, your jokes about how dumb the main characters are, your predictions on who the murderer is, it’s all very fun for him to watch.

Miguel was never much of a swimmer before he met you, and really the huge pool in the yard was used for parties anyways. But one night you convinced him to take a late night swim with you. Swimming in the cool water during hot summer nights, the stars shining above you both, you playfully splashing him before he grabs you and gives a tickle to your side… Yes, he enjoys swimming now.

B = Beauty (What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Miguel greatly admires your high intelligence. Having deep conversations about life, your lives before the cartel, business strategies, his plans for your future together, the fact that he can talk about anything and everything and be completely understood by you is what makes you different from everyone else for him. It's what drew him to you since the first day you met. Your charismatic humor is also something he admires. Miguel can get stuck in his own head often, pulling him into a darker headspace. It’s your humor and lively attitude that pulls him out of that mentality and he’s forever grateful for it.

C = Comfort (How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

The minute Miguel senses that you are feeling melancholic, he’s willing to stop everything he’s doing, pull you aside and have you sit on his lap while he listens to you vent it all out. He’ll rub your back, hold you close and press soft kisses to your hair to calm you down. It physically pains him to see you in any kind of distress. He wishes he could protect you from these emotions even though he knows it’s futile. Anything you need to feel better, consider it done, he only wants the best for you. But oftentimes you both just sit and hold each other until you feel better.

D = Dreams (How do they picture their future with their s/o?)

A life without you is a life not worth living in his mind. He can’t imagine you not being next to him. Waking up next to you cuddled to his side in your shared bed, cooking dinner with you at night, spending weekend getaways at the beach together when he can, meeting your eyes and instantly smiling as he sees you across the dance floor at a party. Your soft touch, your unending support, your laugh, he can’t imagine being without you at all. While he continues to grow his cartel empire, the one thing that keeps him going is the fact that he’ll be coming home to you, his vida, every night.

E = Equal (Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

Surprisingly, he likes an equal partnership in his romantic relationship. Miguel admires that you are a strong, independent individual that has no problem voicing their own ideas or opinions. While he is naturally dominant in both his cartel organization and in private, he appreciates how you take charge of your own daily life and business. He also trusts your judgment on how you run your shared household. He enjoys having a partner that is on his level like that. Definite power couple vibes with him.

F = Fight (Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

Actual fights don’t really happen between you both. There have been some disagreements, but they are easily resolved when you both sit down and talk it out with each other. If a fight does happen it’s never because of you or what you did, it comes from a place of fear. Miguel lives a dangerous lifestyle, one where anyone could easily come and harm him or worse, you. And that scares him. So if you come home late from work without calling him, he’s not upset at you, he was just scared for your well being. After reassuring him that you are alive and okay, holding each other close, he’ll calm down.

G = Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, his rock, his support, his life, his soul, his everything. Truly he is grateful for everything that you do. He knows that he would be emotionally lost without your influence on him. You keep him grounded in reality. The other cartel members also like to remind him how lucky he is to have you in his life and that it’s a miracle how you put up with his antics all the time. Miguel can’t help but agree with them.

H = Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

On the whole, yes he shares most things. Miguel has put his complete trust in you and feels safe enough in your private conversations that he feels he can talk about anything with you. However, there will always be a few things where he’s deemed too dangerous for you to know and will keep that information secret. It’s for your protection, really. It comes with the territory of being with a drug lord.

I = Inspiration (Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?)

Congrats, you single handedly wormed your way into Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo’s life and changed him from being a lonely businessman haunted by his past to a loving, committed partner that’s willing to sacrifice anything for you. You’ve supported him in his darkest times, showed him that he wasn’t the monster that he believed himself to be. That he deserved happiness in his life no matter the things he’s done in the past. That he was capable of love again. God, you are literally the light of his life. And in return Miguel has always accepted you as you are, provided anything you needed or wanted, has kept you safe from harm, made efforts to spend quality time with you without fail. In his mind the least he can do is give you the world.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

Miguel is pretty secure in your relationship. He knows that you’re quite attractive looking and charming and that will make anyone become interested in you, he doesn’t blame them. He puts his complete trust in you that you’ll never stray. If anything, he might be jealous when you spend time with your friends solely for the fact that they can see you freely without complications unlike him.

There was one time where Miguel saw you and Pacho Herrera dancing together at one of the Cali Gang’s parties and was a little annoyed about it. You told him Pacho was gay, he felt embarrassed after that.

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

Miguel Ángel is the best kisser. The way he pours all his love into one kiss, leading to a super passionate make out. How he cradles your back, holding you close in his arms as you return his affections. Or when he delicately holds your face in his hands as he presses besitos all over your face because you’re just too cute. How he knows exactly when to give you sensually slow kisses versus rough make outs during more intimate times. Oh yeah, Miguel knows what he’s doing, and he goes all in when he does.

Your first kiss was on your first date. You two had previously met at plaza parties multiple times and developed somewhat of a friendship that developed into romantic feelings as you continued talking over the phone. One day he showed up at your house near dinner time which led to having a cute dinner date. You both had been feeling strongly for each other for some time by that point. Miguel was cleaning the dishes while you were drying them, he commented on how nice the dinner was and how he loved spending time with you. You shyly expressed similar feelings. One thing led to another and he sweetly kissed you right there in your small kitchen.

L = Love Confession (How would they confess to their s/o?)

Actually, you both said ‘I love you’ at the same time. While you were dating, Miguel liked to spend the night at your house and leave for work in the morning. He wished he could spend the whole day with you and there were a few times where he did, but his busy schedule prevented it mostly. One morning while he was getting ready to leave, you hugged each other while saying your goodbyes. “Adiós, mi amor, te quiero…” It just tumbled out of your mouths with ease. Miguel was stunned for a second, as were you, but his eyes softened and he proceeded to give you the most loving kiss he could place on your soft lips.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Yes, Miguel wants to marry you someday. He wants to be wholly committed to you and only you, he’s a secret romantic like that but shh don’t tell anyone. One would think that Miguel would go all out for a proposal and throw a huge surprise party full of people so he can formally ask you in front of everyone but that wasn’t the case. He wanted the proposal to just be you and him. He had organized a weekend vacation for you both at a private beach in Puerto Vallarta. However, Miguel wasn’t really sure when he would pop the question during the trip. You could tell something was off about him for sure, but brushed it off as something work related. After spending the day at the beach and a fancy private dinner he still hadn’t popped the question. It wasn’t that Miguel had cold feet or anything, he really wanted to marry you, he just wanted the moment to be absolutely perfect. It wasn’t until he saw you on your hotel balcony, looking up at the stars in the beautiful night sky in your satin night gown, that he thought “Fuck it” and joined you. As he gently held your hands in his he expressed his undying love for you, how you are his other half in not only this life but in all lifetimes, thankful that you have supported him through all aspects of life, been with him through thick and thin and how he wants to spend the rest of his life by your side, if you’ll have him? The happiness you saw in his eyes as he looked up at you when you said yes is forever ingrained in your memory. And of course, the rock was huge.

N = Nicknames (What do they call their s/o?)

His favorite nickname for you is mi vida, because you are literally his life-line in this crazy world. Mi alma is another one he uses for the same sentiment. There 's also: mi tesoro, mi precioso, bebe, querido, cariño, hermosa, mi corazón, the list could go on for him.

O = On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

Miguel thought he could hide his true feelings for you at the beginning. He’s one to deny he has any romantic feelings or thoughts until someone (Neto) sits him down and helps him face the facts. See, Miguel thought he wasn’t being obvious by always making sure he called you every day, sending you expensive yet thoughtful gifts, stopped seeing other women, and going on dates with you but it was clear as day to everyone around him that he was deeply in love from the start.

Once Miguel accepted that he wanted to spend his life by your side, everything else felt easy. It felt easy to let you into his life, to want you near him all the time, to spoil you with gifts, to take walks with you in your backyard garden, to kiss you in front of a party full of drug lords and their sicarios. It felt easy to put his all in everything he did because his love for you fueled him.

P = PDA (Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

It’s obvious to everyone who you are to Miguel. They don’t miss the softening of his eyes whenever he looks at you. The small smile he has on his lips as he watches you interact with others at parties. How you always show up to events with him consistently while everyone else’s plus one is paid to be there. In public, Miguel will hold your hand or the small of your back. In private though? Miguel is more comfortable being a cuddle bug. Wrapped up in each other's limbs on the couch. Hugging you from behind as you fix his cafécito for him. Swaying side to side as you dance together in the kitchen while your favorite album is playing on the stereo. Sitting on his lap in his office as you both look at his documents and strategize together. You two are on each other like velcro in private.

Q = Quirk (Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship)

Miguel loves your cooking, so much so that he can differentiate it between the household cook’s. He swears he can feel your love through the ingredients or something, you playfully swatted his shoulder for being cheesy. If he could have your cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner, he would but due to both your work schedules, he’ll just settle for dinner. But really, he prefers your cooking above anyone else’s. You’ve tried to trick him by saying the cook made conchas one morning instead of you but he figured you out. "¿Estás segura, cariño? Porque estos saben como los tuyos". And with a smug look on his face too.

R = Romance (How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Miguel is an old school romantic. You’ll be taken out to fancy dinners, have flowers delivered to you, he’ll put his jacket across your shoulders if you mention you’re a bit cold, always makes sure he’s in between you and the road when walking down the sidewalk, opens doors for you, etc., etc. He’s a real gentleman like that. Miguel is open to hearing any new romantic ideas you have, though. Whether it’s a new restaurant you want to visit, a cute couple game you two can play in bed together (maybe it’s a fun sexy game for more intimate sessions), or a simple night in which you’re eating pizza in your pajamas, Miguel is open to your suggestions. He likes how creatively you think.

S = Support (Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?)

He is extremely supportive of you. If you have a dream of opening your own business, he’ll help you with anything you need for it, including financially. If you preferred to build your own business from the ground up without his help? No problem, he would still celebrate your accomplishments with you without fail. Miguel is not only financially supportive of you, but he is greatly emotionally supportive. He loves to hear you talk passionately about your interests, whether it be a new tv show you like or a hobby you’ve picked up recently. He’s so proud of you when you succeed in any personal goals you set for yourself.

T = Thrill (Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

Miguel can get stuck in his routines, especially since he is always strategizing about his cartel. But that’s where you come in. He needs someone like you to check up on him and remind him to take care of himself because when left to his own devices he’ll forget. You’re usually the one to suggest small getaways or stay at home dates, trying out new things together. Miguel likes hearing the new ideas you come up with, he thinks they’re refreshing.

U = Understanding (How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

Miguel knows you better than you know yourself, and you can say the same about him. Your relationship with each other is one of complete understanding of one another. He knows your ins and outs, you know his good and bad sides. He can take a good guess on what your opinion on a certain topic is before you can express it. You can tell from the way he stares off into space that a lot is on his mind. He can pick up when you’re having a down day and need to vent about it. One shared look between you can make giggles erupt from your chests. It’s almost scary how in sync you two are to the other cartel members. They swear you’ve achieved telepathy somehow.

V = Value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

Miguel places an extremely high importance on you and your relationship. You are his alma and his vida after all. Perhaps some of the other narcos thought that your relationship would be a fleeting romance in the beginning but they were so wrong. After spending several years together, you can honestly say your relationship with Miguel has only grown stronger. Sure the cartel is his priority, but you are the true love of his life and nothing can replace you.

W = Wild Card (A random Fluff Headcanon)

He likes picking outfits with you. When he has time during the morning he likes to ask your opinion on what suit he’ll wear that day. You joke that before he met you he only wore gray and black suits and now he has a few more colors in his wardrobe. He’ll tease that it’s because you make his life more colorful. Miguel has a pretty good idea of what clothing looks best on you, still needs to work on what colors you prefer though. Loves buying you jewelry to match your dresses and shirts. You’ve found that Miguel loves wearing the cuff-links you bought him for his birthday. It’s like he’s carrying you around with him wherever he goes, along with the necklace you gave him when you first started dating. When going to events together, he likes that you help coordinate your outfits together. Not super match-y but it’s obvious that you two are a unit. Trying on different dresses can lead to more sexual moments as well, which you both clearly enjoy.

X = XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

In your own home, yes he is exceptionally affectionate. Miguel is all up for cuddling on the couch together to watch a mindless tv show. Entangling your legs together, your head on his chest, his hand stroking up and down your back as you play with the fingers on his other hand, him pressing a soft kiss to your hair every so often. That’s heaven to him. He’s one to sneak up and wrap his arms around your waist while you’re busy cooking, his head resting on your shoulder as you ask him to taste test the caldo de res you’re making. Or the times when you’re both taking a walk in a park at night together, hand in hand, and he just brings your hand to his lips for a sweet kiss. Or when he’s driving you to a surprise destination for a mini getaway together, and he gently places his hand on your thigh, giving tender squeezes now and then to let you know he loves you.

Y = Yearning (How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

There’s always a level of wistfulness that Miguel experiences daily when he’s at his hotel office and you’re at work or home. He wishes you could be with him all the time, the velcro couple that you are. But he knows it’s not realistic or helpful to be near you all the time. This is why he really looks forward to going home and spending the rest of the evening and night with his favorite person in the world. He’ll call to check up on you at times if he’s really missing you that day, just to hear your voice.

The yearning is worse when he’s out of town. Then he’ll be calling you every night to ask you how your day was, sometimes he vents about the business deal he has going on, you’ll ask him to describe the city he’s in at the moment and he’ll gladly paint a picture for you with his words. Miguel will keep talking on the phone with you until you both are falling asleep while still on the line.

Z = Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

The answer is obvious at this point, yes. Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo is willing to go above and beyond for you. He always has his most trusted men watching after you for your protection, anything you need or want he’s willing to provide, if at any point you need to vent about something he’ll stop everything to sit and listen. You do a lot for him, and he knows it. His way of returning the favor so to speak is by putting his all in your relationship. Miguel knew he was a goner when he fell in love with you and he hasn’t had any regrets about it since. You are the light of his world, his favorite person, his best friend, his confidant, his vida, his alma, los latidos de su corazón, his everything.

#narcos mexico #narcos #miguel angel felix gallardo #miguel angel felix gallardo x reader #narcos mexico x reader #diego luna

26 notes · View notes

armafidelium · 5 months

Text

thinking of a potentially angsty scenario w/ aphelios && alune. under cut for ppl who don't wanna deal w/ heavy stuff atm.

okay so imagine a scenario where somehow it brings alune to the physical realm once more and at a cruel twist of fate as a display of their devotion for their people the twins must prove their worth and fight one another. the dread filling aphelios as he doesn't want to harm the other half of his soul while alune dreads the knowing pain it would cause her brother, but she urges him not to hold back. ultimately it's for their people and they need to follow through. while his senses had come to have a slight numbing from the years using the noctum he feels the intensity of the weight of this situation. both he and alune are well aware out of the two when it comes to combat aphelios would win but they both put their all in. each cut or form of pain given to his sister breaks a piece inside aphelios bit by bit. the trial of their faith not ending until only one stands. for what feels like the first time in forever he can truly feel the tears that pour down his face in a seemingly unending stream as he holds alune in his arms and she smiles at her brother. even though it pains her and knows this pain would last within him for years to come she does her best to soothe him. telling him that no matter what this just proves he's still him, he's still aphelios. despite being the weapon of the faithful he is still aphelios, the lunari and her twin brother who still has a beating heart within him. she tells him not to cry even though she is fully aware her words won't stop his heartbreak. the two had been with one another since birth and now this was what their journey in life had brought them to. she tells him no matter what, looking at the moon and deep in his heart she'll live eternally and look over him. a piece of him dies that day, but the proof of conviction and faith is shown. two halves in a spiritual sense become whole and some other mumbo jumbo. this is all my brain thought up. maybe i'll drabble this scenario sometime. i do love me some good angst.

#● ☾ ⭑ 𝗠ᵒᵒᶰˡᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵛᶤᵍᶤˡ ( ooc )#// idk what to tag this but the scenario i guess is angsty and has mention of death in it #// idefk if any of it even made sense #// it's a whole ass what if that idek where it came from but i had to write it out somewhere and here was the best bet

0 notes

sapphire-mage · 1 year

Text

Within the lore of Hell, there is said to be a place known as ‘Styx’. Styx is an endless river designed to be a place of torment for those who ushered in the sin of ‘wrath’.

For possible eternity, its victims must live within its water with the unending drive to physically attack one another. On and on, the river’s collection of souls punch, kick, bite, choke, and harm one another, all while forever drowning without death.

The forced desire to harm begets the need to breathe. The endless drowning blends into a cacophony of pain and suffering.

…

I wonder if the demons who watch over Styx look at MCU/DCU Twitter and are like, “Holy shit! They are so much worse!”

#cw: mentions of torture #MCU #DCU #I’m just saying: They scare the living shit out of me

0 notes

celeste-clearwater-06 · 3 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could please write something about how the Fellowship (+ Thorin?) Would help a s/o who's Disabled and Chronically ill. Like she has a lot of symptoms like chronic pain, chronic fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing at times, difficulty walking at times, higher sensitivity to the cold, difficulty talking at times, and anxiety, depression and executive dysfunction?

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, namely my Autism, Anxiety, Sleep Apnea, a really bad Overbite, Raynaud's Syndrome, Asthma, etc, so I'd really appreciate an Imagine like this. I have a really weird disorder where one of my legs is longer than the other, and it's been causing me a lot of pain and difficulty walking lately, and people have been bullying me for it a lot too, so I could really use a Comfort Imagine right now. Thanks so much hun!!

It's no problem! I'm glad I can provide some comfort!! For each character, I'll use a specific struggling area, to make it a bit easier!! I hope I got these accurate enough, and of there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! You are strong, beautiful and so, so amazing!! Keep being you!! ❤❤

Help (The Fellowship// Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Aragorn (Autism)

Aragorn has known you for a long time, so helping with your autism is not new for him

He's particularly experienced in reading your emotions and meeting your needs, whether it's helping you out of stressful situations or calming you down, he's there 🥺

If there are large and boisterous gatherings in Rivendell, its almost guaranteed that you can become over-stimulated quickly, and Aragorn immediately senses this (spidey senses õoõ)

He's fast to find your hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance

If that doesn't seem to help, he'll instantly stop what he's doing and take you out of the room

If you're someone who prefers lots of space and little physical contact, he is 100% respectful of this and asks if you'll let him touch or hug you (very much gentleman 😌)

If ever you're confronted by someone of importance, Aragorn is right by your side to ease some of the tension

Sometimes there are things you find difficult to say or get out of your system

The king seems to know exactly what it is and will help you out by saying it or asking you simple questions that you can easily answer

And he always reminds you, no matter WHAT

YOU ARE NOT STUPID 😤😡

You may struggle with some parts of your life, but every day, he's constantly telling you that you're very intelligent and kind

His patience is unending and he'll never let you think down on yourself

Overall, Aragorn is always someone and reminding you that it's all going to be okay ❤❤

Legolas (Anxiety)

Most nights, Legolas keeps watch (since elves don't require much sleep) and notices that you jolt awake out of the random

Now, most of the Fellowship notices that you're usually awake and ready to go before anyone else

But Legolas is really the one to address you first

You were a bit nervous to explain, since you didn't want to worry him or the great of the fellowship, amount the other disadvantages you have

He gently encouraged you, and finally, you explained to him your sleep apnea

Yeah, he was very concerned

I mean, his blue eyes widened with terror when you told him that you could basically die in your sleep if you weren't attentive enough 🙃

Legolas, from now on, sleeps directly next to you, or keeps extra careful watch over you at night

Because he could NEVER see his precious mortal friend become injured... Or worse 🥺🥺❤

The other members had noticed a change in his behaviors towards you as well...

Gimli teased him whenever he caught Legolas giving you some extra lembas bread or offered to carry you 👉👈

You really tried to assure Legolas that it wasn't a big deal when you were awake, since you're aware of your breathing situation

But still 😤

Legolas will always bring you comfort and take great care of you, and that will NEVER CHANGE

Because he loves you very much ❤🦋

Frodo (Anxiety)

Frodo is familiar with the feeling of great anxiety, seeing he had a stress-free life while living in the Shire and suddenly was forced to carry a piece of jewelry all the way to giant ass volcano

It's easy for you two to comfort each other and seek refuge in thoughts and feelings ❤

He's not super comfortable with the thought of you having a panic attack though...

Only because he's never had one

It starts to give him a panic attack whenever you have one around him the first time 😳-

Any time you begin to breathe heavy or hyperventilate, halfling boy is hot at your heels, rubbing your back and reminding you to breathe gently

(So many hugs, if you're up for it)

After you calm down, he's constantly checking on you, asking if you need anything etc.

Really, he just wants to know if he can help 🥺

And even with the weight and stress of carrying the ring, Frodo manages to cheer you up somehow

Samwise (Asthma)

Sam has never had to deal with asthma once in his life

He's very nervous when the subject is brought, afraid it might trigger something inside of you 🥺👉👈

But you just chuckle, assure him that it's alright, and you have ways of keeping it under control

And now, he wants to know everything about it, just to have the awareness in case something happens

Sam just wants to protect you forever, and this was a great way for him to start

He constantly reminds Aragorn that you'll need breathing breaks and will convince Gandalf to let you ride on his horse

He'll scold Pip and Merry if they are trying to drag you around and be silly, because as he says

"You'll rouse him/her/them up! We can't have Y/N gettin injured!" 🤨😠

Sam is MOM

As always, he's very kind and always makes sure your needs are met ❤🥺

Pippin and Merry (Raynaud's Syndrome)

Very confused halfings 🤔

Also extremely concerned!

You were eating one of the lesser pleasurable nights

It was cold and rainy, and a fire couldn't be started, not to mention the quiet arguments of Aragorn and Gandalf in the nearby woods

And Pip's eyes widened when he saw the tips of your petite fingers begin to pale upon hearing Aragorn mention Orcs

"What's wrong with your hands?!" He squeaked, pointing towards your now white-colored fingertips

You hadn't even noticed, nor felt, considering they were numb anyways

Merry looked over his cousin's shoulder and his eyes also widened, not with fright, but wonder

They were both fascinated with your condition, convinced that you were casting some spell Gandalf showed you

Although you reassured them it was just an extremely frustrating inconvenience that you had, among other things

So from then on, the disastrobus duo did their best to keep you out of the cold (and stressful situations!!)

As a distraction, the pair will tell you great stories of the shire, doing little dances and skits that always cheer you up 🥴

Sometimes, they can be a little rambunctious though...

Merry will pick up on this fact quickly, and nudge Pippin to get him to calm down

Even though it may not feel the best

They find your syndrome absolutely fascinating!! 🤔🤔

All in all, these two are always up for keeping your beautiful smile on your face and your spirits high!! ❤🌺

Boromir (Depression)

Throughout the journey, Boromir has always found an easy way to make you smile

After all, he himself has a fascinating way of brightening anyone's spirits

Yours included ❤

Boromir may not have great stories from The Shire, like Pip and Merry, but he sure has a lot of positive things to say

He'll often suggest sparring with the two troublemaking halflings, just so you can see him goof up and get knocked over 🥺

If the nights become cold and weary, he'll give you a warm hug or a nudge on the shoulder

And a few words of helpful encouragement along the lines of;

"Don't fret Y/N. You have more strength than you'll ever know."

"Let our spirits never dampen! We've come this far!" 😊

He's also an incredible listener

Boromir wants to hear what you have to say if you ever need to rant or get something off of your chest

And don't think for a second that he would ever judge you 😤

Son of Gondor sees past all of your insecurities and knows you for your beautiful, amazing self ❤❤

Gimli (Walking disadvantages)

As you travel across great plains and mountains, your limp doesn't go unnoticed by Gimli

It may take him a while to open up about it, since he's afraid he might offend you in some way

And once he asks you, you inform him that it's a difficulty that unfortunately cannot be changed any time soon

And where you come from, lots of people tease and bully you about it

He did NOT handle it well 😳

"wHAT BLUBBERING DULL-MINDED PIGNUTS-" 🤬

Although this Dwarf is short and a bit slow at times

He's fascinatingly strong 😳

And so, he makes it his duty to be your designated carrier 🥺

At first, your a tad skeptical...

I mean, he's only around 4 feet tall...

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM THROW THAT HUGE AX AROUND?!

Gimli will happily carry you great distances when you need a break, and even longer

(Sometimes it's just to show off around the others-)

"Gimli, are you sure you don't want a break?"

"Aye lass! The strength of Dwarves is unending!" 😌

*struggling to breathe*

11/10, fantastic dwarf, will never let you down!!

Thorin (Executive Dysfunction)

Another Dwarf??

Absolutely

Thorin himself has trouble keeping composure with his time management (and sense of direction 🙄)

This means that he'll have an undying amount of patience for you and you only

There's just something about you that he fond of, and it fills in that little sassy, brooding place in his heart

Can also relate to you whenever you grow frustrated at the setback of your journey or lack of sleep

Is 100% willing to help you find your lost belongings (and once again, ONLY YOU)

Thorin will literally make the whole traveling party stop so that you can put something in your bag and make sure that you put it somewhere you'll remember

Always happy to give you extra gentle reminders of keeping your pack closed

The company is utterly SHOCKED with how he treats you

I mean, this man has always been extremely stubborn and hard headed

But when you show up, it's another person he can easily relate and share frustrations with

Also a master at organization?!? 🤔

The one thing he could do successfully was organizing the damn journey and traveling company, so ofc he's gonna be good at that 😂

Yeah, Thorin definitely has a soft spot for you

King under the mountain will never run out of patience and kindness for you 😌💙

Sorry these took so long!! I hope you like them!! ❤❤

367 notes · View notes

phantom-curve · 3 years

Note

mads!!! congrats on the follower milestone 🥰

could i please request juke with the following:

ansare - to hardly breathe, to be out of breath

thank you & good luck:)

ahh thank you!💕 I thought this was gonna be fluffy and then it got...kinda angsty😬 set post season one in a mostly canon world where Julie can touch the boys but they're still ghosts, ft. yet another Juke moment on the studio couch (sad & soft edition)

ansare - to hardly breathe, to be out of breath

Breathing was a privilege Luke had never properly understood until he was dead. When he had been alive, it was just another everyday thing that he never once stopped to think twice about. His heart beat, his blood pumped, his lungs expanded and collapsed in time to the rhythm of all other bodily functions. When he went swimming, he plugged his nose and dove deep until he felt the crushing pressure of depth against his chest only to return to the ocean’s surface and inhale once more, everything righted within his system with that single burst of oxygen. It was so simple there were countless idioms derived from the action, and every single one seemed to emphasize the life that existed within the movement. Breathing was as instinctual as living, and Luke never really thought about either one of those things until he was no longer doing them.

Ghosts didn’t need to breathe. Dead boys didn’t have hearts that beat, blood that pumped, lungs that filled and emptied in the same way that the tide pushed against the shore, relentless and unending. Everything that had once made him feel alive now existed as a reminder of the fact that he never would be again.

Except that wasn’t really true. Because Luke couldn’t deny the way he reacted to Julie.

Julie made his heart race and his blood sing and his lungs trip over themselves in an attempt to catch up to the breath that she always seemed to steal from him. Julie was wickedly beautiful, an insane wrecking ball of musical talent, and also probably the most amazing person he had ever met in his life period. She made him want to be better in all the best kind of ways. Smarter, funnier, nicer, happier. She made him want to be the type of guy that could look her in the eye and promise her a lifetime together.

Except he didn’t have a life anymore. He just had more time than he knew what to do with and no way to promise anything.

The thought ate him alive up inside.

Especially at night. In the dark and the quiet and the oppressive stillness of it all he would sit and think about all of the things he had missed out on, all of the things he was still missing out on. Stuck in limbo, neither here nor there, just...existing but not. Living but not. Breathing but...not. Death had changed everything. Julie had changed it again. She was his sole reason for being anymore. He loved the boys, loved the band, loved everything about whatever existence he had been given. But all of it paled in comparison to Julie.

“Luke?”

The sound of his name on her lips made his breath hitch every time he heard it.

It was late, well after the time she normally went to bed. The studio had been dark and quiet for hours. Alex was off with Willie, Reggie had swiped Carlos’ laptop and disappeared into the loft with an old pair of headphones, and Luke was hunched over his notebook on the couch, trying and failing not to write about Julie. And now here she was, wearing mismatched pjs and oversized slippers, standing in the doorway to his kind-of home, taking his breath away once more.

“Hey, Jules.”

Her lips curved into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, and he felt himself mirroring the expression. It was new, the nickname thing, but it felt right. Their interesting little relationship had shifted recently, they both knew it. He sat up straighter, sliding over to the side of the couch in a clear invitation. Julie didn’t hesitate. Her steps were silent as she closed the distance between them, settling herself onto the worn-out leather next to him, legs tucked up as she angled herself towards him, close but not quite touching.

“What are you working on?”

Normally, Luke wouldn’t think twice about passing the notebook over to her. He would lean in close, listen to her hum the melody, watch her mouth the lyrics, and then, when she would turn to him with suggestions, he would watch that same spark that lived within his soul flare to life in hers as well. The rest of the world would cease to exist, everything shrinking down to just the two of them, Julie and Luke, alone in their own little musical bubble.

But this song? The one he’d been writing while thinking about her and all the things he wished he could give her? He wasn’t sure he was ready to share that part of himself yet. Wasn’t sure he was ready to shift their relationship anymore when he knew it was basically doomed no matter what.

Julie inched closer, like she could feel his reluctance. Her leg brushed his lightly, the sensation still so new and unfamiliar that it made him gasp quietly. He had waited so long to touch her, had wanted to reach out for that kind of physical comfort so badly, so many times and every single one of them had been a lesson in rejection. Dead boys didn’t get to touch girls who were alive.

Except that had changed, too. And he could touch her, now. But he was still a dead boy. And she was still alive.

Something about the way his breath caught in his throat seemed to capture her attention. Her brows softened, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. She seemed to get it then, she always saw through him so easily, but she didn’t pull away.

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Her words ripped through him. Luke’s arm was moving to pull her close before he could stop himself. She fell against his chest, head coming to rest over his silent heart.

“I know.”

His whisper was just as pained as hers had been. His chest burned, but it wasn’t from lack of oxygen. It was his soul, desperately reaching out for hers, seeking any way to keep them together, forever. He was already touching her, already holding his breath so he could stretch this moment into infinity, already crossing another line that moved them farther away from being just friends, so he didn’t stop himself from reaching up to run his fingers through her hair softly. The curls were wild, and he had to be careful not to snag his rings. Julie softened against him, soothed by his touch, forbidden as it was. If his heart had been working, he was sure it would be skipping all over the place by now.

“I’m sorry, Julie.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for, exactly. Being dead? Being a ghost? Being here but not here? He sure as hell wasn’t apologizing for loving her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t apologize for something like that. It was the one constant in his life now. It was as undeniable as his breath had been when he had been alive, linked intrinsically to his very existence in this world.

“I’m not.”

Her tone was genuine. Something hard in Luke’s throat melted, his breath whooshing back in like he was being given permission to breathe again even if it wasn’t necessary. He felt the rise and fall of his chest, felt the echoes of where a heartbeat would have lived. There was no more pulse to his bloodline, just a melody running pure and true throughout his veins, Julie Julie Julie.

He pulled her closer, settled her more securely against his side, tucked up next to the heart that no longer worked but belonged to her just the same. Without shifting any farther than necessary, he reached out to snag his notebook off of the table. He left it open to the page he had been working on, laying it across his lap. Julie didn’t move except tuck her chin down a bit so she was looking at the pages, eyes squinting as she strained to read his chicken scratch in the dim light left by the hanging string lights. He watched, mesmerized, barely breathing, as her eyes traced over the paper. A low vibration reverberated against his chest as she hummed, her brow crinkling as she took in the words that had been written and the ones that had been slightly marred by scratches. All different versions of the same sentiment.

“Luke...” her voice was breathy, eyes shining as she shifted her gaze to meet his. “This is beautiful.”

He gave her a soft smile. He didn’t have to tell her that it was about her. She knew. Just like she knew every other piece of him. Just like she had always known him, it seemed.

He didn’t have to say the words to her. She didn’t have to say them back. It was enough for them to know just between themselves. He loved her. She loved him. Nothing had ever been so simple and yet so complicated. But loving Julie wasn’t something he would ever be able to stop doing. Just like breathing, it had become a part of his everyday world. Something that was completely necessary to his survival.

Julie returned her gaze to the notebook; reached for the pen he kept hooked over the pages for easy access. Her curving script put his messy scrawl to shame, her words intertwining with his as she added her own parts to the song. No longer just a song for her, but a song for them. He watched her work, kept his fingers nestled in her curls, twirling the strands absentmindedly just because he could.

She fell asleep like that, pressed up against him, fingertips smudged with ink. He knew whatever they had couldn’t be forever. Not the kind of forever she deserved, stuck with someone on the cusp of disappearance, neither of this world or gone from it. But he could have this. These quiet moments, just the two of them, without the rest of the impossibilities bogging them down. And one day, when reality caught up with them and he inevitably lost her, he would know that a piece of him lived on with her. Caught in her memories, written on the pages of his notebook, tattooed on her heart the same way she would be on his.

#literally how many ways can I write Juke having A Moment on the couch in the studio #the limit does not exist apparently #mads writes #juke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #jukebox #juke fic #jukebox fic #jatp fic

37 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 3 years

Text

👰593 days with you.💐

@loveletterstoledger made this beautiful moodboard for me after I sent her some initial ideas (and, naturally, what she came up with is 1000000 x better than anything I was able to come up with myself!) and darling, I cannot thank you enough for making me such a stunning piece of art. These are all my own pictures (except the picture of myself and Joker, which was also put together by you🥰💖) and what you created with them is wonderful. Thank you, darling. Thank you, thank you, thank you.💜💙💗🌸

Below the cut is an emotional letter written by me, addressed to Joker. There is no obligation to interact with this post. This is a purely self-indulgent post and I make no apologies. This is an important milestone for me and if I were anyone else, I’d encourage them to celebrate it as much as they want to... so I’m taking my own advice!🥰💖

Dearest Joker,

I’ve been thinking about writing this letter to you for weeks and now, on the eve of our anniversary, I must stop thinking and start doing. I know that even if I forget to say something here, you will feel it within what is said and you’ll understand... Joker, my love, you always understand me.

For 593 days, there hasn’t been a single moment in which I haven’t felt understood and accepted. You have been through so much in your life. For thirty-five years, you received nothing but shit. As a result of this, there is nothing you can't understand. It breaks my heart, but all the same I love you all the more for your unending understanding and your wisdom. You have taught me much about the world, about myself and about you. You taught me how to let you in, how to love, how to be and how to breathe. Honey, you tried so, so hard for so long and you were only ever beaten and run down, used and abused, mistreated and lied to and society was always going to beat you down no matter what you did. I feel like you knew it but you kept pushing through anyway, because what more could you do? I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be with you through everything you went through before you and I met, dear heart. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t take every punch, every kick, every insult. Would that I could, my love, I would take every mocking and every humiliation, every shift, every day you went without eating because you could only afford to feed one person on your salary. I would take every laughing attack. I would buy all of your medications, buy you new clothes because you have had the same ones since high school. I would make sure that you ate every meal, that I was there to pull you out of the fridge at 3 AM, to pull you out of the unforgiving cold and into the warmth of my embrace. I would take every evil thing you went through and encountered, I would take all of your pains away for my own (without changing a single thing about you) if it meant that you knew nothing but love and peace for the rest of your life.

Because that’s what you deserve, Joker.

Arthur.

You deserve nothing but the best of everything good in this world and I would set the world ablaze just to give that to you. Just to see you really smile, I would strike a match to burn the world to the fucking ground. You inspire me, every single day, to do more and to be more. You inspire me to keep going (step step step...), to keep trying... to get through every day. When I lay awake at 2 AM staring at my ceiling and willing for sleep to come, you find me there at threshold consciousness and you climb into bed beside me and you stay. When I struggle to find a reason to get out of bed, you’re there to haul me up with a gentle smile and a strong hand. When I don’t want to eat because what’s the point? I’ll only be hungry later, you’re there with a set jaw and a plate which is set in front of me before I can protest. When I have a nightmare or a scare, you’re there to shush me and to settle me back down. With my pillow and with your arms becoming the safest cage I’ve ever known, I find sleep eventually. With you, I find it all. When I can’t find the energy to shower or brush my hair, you’re there to do it with me. You never do things for me. You do them with me, so that I know I’m not alone, so that I know there is someone beside me in those moments when I am physically alone.

You are so beautiful in so many ways and I can never describe you without resorting to celestial terms. You’re my fallen angel, my light in the dark and my reason. Your name is the one I speak in times of need and my thoughts always return to you; as my body comes home, so too must my soul, and I find everything in you. We met a lifetime ago, it feels like, and you found me at a time when I was ready to give it all up, to end it all in the most permanent of ways... you found me and you held me and you brought me back into myself. You saved me, Joker, and every day since then, you have found me again and again and you have made me into who I am today. You tore me down and built me back up with threads of gold to bind the cracks of my heart. There’s nothing romantic in falling apart, but you help me every day to keep going, to try again and again and again, and every night, you’re there to coax me into sleep even when my mind is screaming at me to do and to be more even when I’ve taken myself beyond the point of exhaustion.

I never expected to fall in love with you. I never thought I was even capable of love before I met you. You have liberated me emotionally, physically... you have given me and shown me a whole other side of life, and I would not be who I am today without your place, a permanent fixture, in my life. We were only together for five months when I proposed to you, and I will never be able to thank you enough for saying yes to me that day. I never expected us, my love, but I wouldn’t trade what we share for the world. I’d make the opposite trade in a heartbeat, however.

I love you, Joker. So much it hurts in the best way. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, there is no one I wouldn’t go up against for you. I wish so badly that I could protect you, shield you, but above all I wish that I could love you in all the ways that you deserve to be. We are hurt and we are tired, but we’re together and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it? In our pain did we find love, and that’s such a beautiful bond for us to have forged from the fires of the Hells which have plagued us in our lives. I wish not to fix you, for there is nothing to be fixed, but I wish to help you, to love you and to protect you and to aid you in finding peace and closure within yourself. I want nothing but the best for you, in all things.

There is so much more I could say, there is so much I want to say, but just as you always do, have you brought me to the moment where words run dry and all I have is my heart, cradled tenderly in your hands. You are my one and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you all the ways I love you. Not just in who I am, but in what I do, for this next academic endeavour is for you, because of you. I shall always try to be someone you can be proud of, someone you can love and someone you can be glad to have met. Dearest husband, I love you, I love you, I love you. You are my true love, my whole heart, the reason my soul breathes as often as it does.

Happy one year of marriage, my knight in red, and here’s to many more!

Forever and a day,

Erika Fleck.

💗💗💗💗

#erileck #self-shipping #one year with you #posting it 2.5h early bc I'm HYPED

21 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Hollow I

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: John Tracy, Scott Tracy

We’re not quite done with @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday yet! For a bonus round, we’ve got the elusive Sixth Sense to round off the challenge.

Two teenagers and a night hike in the middle of nowhere is a recipe for disaster. When trouble strikes the clock starts ticking, but there’s no International Rescue around to pull off a miracle.

His hip hit something and he hissed, stumbling away from it. Who put a – a what, table? Probably a table. Who put a table right there?

“Shh!” his brother hissed quietly. He bit back a remark and instead gingerly picked his way around the obstacle. A light would be useful for avoiding errant furniture, but unfortunately a light would also ruin his night vision and therefore the entire reason for this little excursion.

Why hadn’t Scott talked him out of it? This whole thing screamed “irresponsible and dangerous”, two things Scott never let any of them do, but no, big brother had barged into his room after hearing him stub his toe on the edge of his bed, and instead of telling him it was a stupid idea – with a reminder that Dad had forbidden it, to boot – he’d decided that he’d go with him.

Dad was going to have an absolute fit if he found his two eldest sons sneaking around the villa at night. He’d go apoplectic if he realised they were planning on doing the very same night time excursion he’d vetoed scant hours earlier when John had approached him about it.

“No, John,” he’d said, quite firmly. “The island is dangerous. Any star gazing is to be done from the villa, and the villa only.”

But the villa was built into the volcanic peak of the mountain; just because the view ahead from the balcony was fantastic did not mean the rest of the night sky could be seen from it. John had already mapped everything he could see with both the naked eye and his portable telescope from the villa – he wanted the rest of the night sky.

Either Scott had gained a sudden appreciation for the stars, or he had some other reason for wanting to explore the island at night, but he’d taken one look at the backpack John failed to hide in time and declared that he was coming too.

The more John thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea. He considered telling Scott that he’d changed his mind, that he didn’t want to go stargazing the other side of the peaks, but every time he opened his mouth he remembered the allure of the as-yet-unseen stars.

Just a short trip, he promised himself, stumbling over something else – a box, maybe. They were still unpacking, after all. Scott’s strong hands caught him and his big brother guided him around the other obstacles lurking in the dark.

“Careful,” he warned under his breath, barely audible over the distant sound of the sea. It reminded John of the times he’d climbed onto the roof to find his brother already there, looking at him as if to say what took you so long?

Of course – Scott had no real appreciation for the stars, not like John and Alan and once upon a time Mom, preferring the reflected light of the full moon to the further celestial intrigues, but what he did have was the unending patience of an eldest brother, coupled with a vicious protective streak that had only increased after they’d lost Mom. He knew them better than Dad did, at times better than they knew themselves; all he needed to have done was overhear John’s rejected request to know that he was going to sneak out regardless of paternal permission.

Come of think of it, he’d already been wearing his outdoor shoes when he’d intruded on John’s bedroom.

The moon was new, making it an ideal night to gaze at the stars. Not a single cloud in the sky meant that there was a curtain of glittering diamonds above them, pure and untainted by light pollution. It was the clearest John had ever seen them from Earth, and his doubts disappeared. The conditions were too perfect to waste.

“Mind the pool,” Scott warned as they stepped out onto the patio area. John stayed well over to one side, having no interest in a late-night swim. Scott walked next to him, a physical barrier between them, until they found a narrow path leading away from the villa and into the darkness. Well, Scott found it; John hadn’t known it was there, and let his brother guide him along.

Below them, water lapped calmly at the island. It was a loud sound in the otherwise dead of night, not even a breeze to stir the leaves of the jungle Dad had firmly told them they were not to enter. One day it would be the sound of home, a background noise that no longer registered, but they hadn’t lived on the island – or near any stretch of water – long enough for that to happen, yet.

John wasn’t sure he ever would. The villa on the island – Tracy Island, Dad had named it, somewhat unimaginatively – was to be their forever home, but also a base of operations. He cast his gaze up above him, where the stars shone brightly. His home would be up there; Dad had promised that as soon as he finished his astronaut training the space station currently under construction would be his. There was no water in space, a fact that mystified and bewildered his squid of a younger brother.

Lost in his thoughts, head facing up at the stars, he didn’t notice the tree root creeping across the path until his foot caught it. He fell forward with a thud, a small cry of pain escaping him, and immediately Scott was there, checking him over thoroughly.

“I’m okay,” he assured him, rolling his ankle. A minor twinge but nothing to worry about; his boots were designed for the terrain.

“Are you sure?” Scott pressed. “Sit down and let me-”

“It’s fine, Scott,” he protested, pulling himself to his feet and sparing a moment to be thankful his bag hadn’t taken any of the impact; his portable telescope in its case would still be safe.

“If you’re sure,” Scott said dubiously, and John sighed, taking a cautious step forward. “We can do this another time.”

“That would mean sneaking back in without being caught tonight and then sneaking out again on another day,” John pointed out. “And the weather tonight is perfect.”

“That it is,” Scott agreed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Okay then, onwards it is. Watch your feet not the stars this time, okay? They can wait until we get there. Wherever ‘there’ is.”

John didn’t know where ‘there’ was, either. He’d never been outside of the villa’s immediate vicinity, on Dad’s orders. Technically, none of them should have been, but Scott was navigating the path with a little too much ease for it to be his first venture out.

Big brother hadn’t completely outgrown his own rebellious stage, huh? Still, it made John feel a little more secure in their adventure if the terrain was already known to Scott. Scott would never let him come out here if it was dangerous.

“Somewhere I can see the other stars,” he shrugged. “But not too far from the villa, or we won’t be back by dawn.”

“And then Dad will have both our hides,” Scott finished.

“Your hide, big brother,” John corrected. “You’re supposed to be looking after me.”

“And you’re supposed to be the sensible one,” Scott retorted. “He’ll know it was your idea.”

“And he’ll know that you didn’t stop me-eeeeeeeeee!” Something gave way under John’s foot and he lurched sideways, out of Scott’s light hold. “Scott!”

“John!” Scott snatched for him, catching his wrist at the same moment John realised there was no longer anything beneath his feet. “John!”

In the pitch dark, John couldn’t see anything. Scott had his right wrist clutched tightly, the only thing keeping him from dropping who knew how far. The roar of the ocean was loud in his ears – was he dangling off of a cliff directly above the suddenly unnerving ocean or was his mind playing tricks on him?

With his free hand he reached upwards, trying to find something else to hold onto so he could pull himself up. Something. Anything.

“John!”

Scott’s hand was sweaty. Too sweaty. John could feel himself slipping and lunged upwards, trying to grab Scott’s arm with his other hand.

“Scott!” he gasped as he missed, fingernails scrabbling at something soft and giving but failing to get a purchase.

They were heel to palm now, and the slide didn’t slow at all. Palm to palm, fingers to fingers. Fingers to-

“JOHN!”

-air.

Part II

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #jeff tracy #hollow

28 notes · View notes

monsterdoodles · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Steven Universe Future 3-13-2020

Together Forever: This episode was a lot less about Steven and Connie, and more about just Steven than expected.

Connie has some plans for college, but we don’t quite get to know what her career goals are exactly. She’s planning on getting into politics, but I’m not sure at what level or what branch. Not that that matters to the episode too much or anything. The University of Jayhawk is all the across the country from Delmarva. This is a distance that Steven cannot emotionally handle right now. Upon this realization, he sinks down into his bed, part of his “floating” powers.

It is good to see that he and Connie keep in touch at least over video calls. On a slightly more concerning note, Steven has memorized Connie’s schedule down to the minute.

Garnet says at the end of the episode, that there was no future in which Steven wouldn’t propose to Connie. I’m guessing had he talked to Garnet instead, he would have proposed to her out of spite or in an effort to prove Garnet wrong.

Instead of Garnet, we do get Ruby and Sapphire this episode. Steven doesn’t seem too surprised by their appearance in this episode, so I imagine that they have been teaching these classes for a while. Ruby is doing some kind of nature scout class, did she make those badges herself, or are they part of a nationally recognized scout organization? Either way she’s teaching some gems and Onion about the beauty of nature. Steven tells her about how Connie seems to really have her life together and knows what she is doing.

I can see a parallel here with Ruby and Sapphire, and Steven and Connie. In this particular case, Steven is Ruby. He doesn’t have the foresight that Connie does right now. He, in a way, lacks future vision.

Ruby, either lacking the knowledge of what might be socially acceptable or being too excited about prospect of Steven expressing his love, tells Steven that he should propose to her. Ruby’s logic here is that it worked for her. She ignores the fact that she and Sapphire had been together for over 5000 years and that they are adults.

Steven visits Sapphire as well, she is teaching a class on alternate timelines. I wonder what that entails exactly. I suppose that they do all of those equations that she explained to Steven, but with the understanding that the future still isn’t as predictable as one might think. She also encourages Steven to propose to Connie despite the fact that she is aware of the sociological implications of this, but she’s a hopeless romantic about it anyways.

Steven declare to the gems, that this will be his last day as Steven Cutie-Pie Demayo Diamond Quartz Universe. Interesting that that interaction with Garnet from almost 4 years ago left that impression on him. That is the same day that he learned about future vision, so I suppose that just stuck in his mind. Also, was he planning to take Connie’s last name or add Maheswaran to his plethora of middle names (that he thinks belongs on official documents for some reason).

He makes his plan. He gets jam, glow sticks and cake. On top of the world, he dresses his best and asks her out from outside her window. He says they’ll be back in 15 minutes (this reminds of an episode of How I Met Your Mother, but the season and name escape me).

At the beach, in the same place they first met, Steven has a picnic set up. Had this just be a romantic gesture or a proposal to date, not marriage, things probably would have gone a lot better for him. Connie responds well to all this. She has been shown to have romantic feelings for Steven in the past, she attempted to kiss him in An Indirect Kiss and she successfully kissed him on the cheek in the movie. Steven sings his song with the sentiment of “I want to be me with you”. The lyrics of which, like many love songs in my opinion, have a codependent quality to them. Steven doesn’t know his future, so he wants someone else to be his future, to be someone else.

Connie, very sensibly, says no. They are young, have never discussed this, and I’m pretty sure they aren’t even an item. She also tells him, “It’s a not now” because there is plenty of time. Steven is in his unending quest for stability, and he still hasn’t found it. Throughout this conversation Connie and Steven occupy opposite spaces on screen. They are in different places in their lives right now, sure and unsure, stable and unstable.

I think if Steven were around more teens his age, he might not be feeling this way, so much at least. He would realize how many people don’t have their lives figured out at this age. Many people his age just want to graduate high school. He really needs to talk to Greg about this. Greg wanted to be a musician, but he was also a community college drop out. He didn’t have everything figured out. (I’m pretty sure this will be part of next week’s episodes in some way)

Connie is willing to stick around when her alarm goes off. Steven tells her to go, probably because he doesn’t want to burden her and because he won’t be holding it together for long. As soon as she leaves, he lies back and creates a crater. The shockwaves ruining the picnic. He lies there until dark.

When he gets up, Garnet is there. She explains to him the inevitability of this situation. She tells him that the hole he is trying to fill won’t be filled by Connie or Stevonnie. Connie is not his “missing piece”. In this scene, Garnet is towering and Steven feels almost as small as his younger self. I think this accentuates how young and foolish Steven was this episode. He holds a frustrated look during this conversation. He says he blames Garnet for making this all look so easy. Reminds me of Cry for Help/Friendship. Pearl had felt the same way about Ruby and Sapphire/Garnet. Steven and Pearl craved that perceived perfection.

Steven then eats his feelings.

Growing Pains: I was wrong in my prediction that Steven would either be stuck in pink mode or have a human ailment.

The episode opens with a scene from the newest instalment of dogcopter. In the movie, Dogcopter proposes to a dog named Drew. Steven laments the fact that “everyone else is getting married”. He continues to eat his feelings like at the ending of last episode, and then his body starts getting out of control. He keeps growing sporadically. He mostly ignores it because it doesn’t hurt him physically.

He wants to reach out to someone who isn’t Connie right now. He can’t reach the gems, so he calls Greg, who is on tour with Sadie and Shep right now. Greg is having a great time, and Steven won’t rain on that parade, even when Greg offers to call him back. He almost wants to call Connie, but she calls him instead. His shapeshifting forces him to answer her call.

He can no longer hide what’s going on with him, since it is manifesting physically. Connie suggests that he should see a doctor. He doesn’t want to bother anyone even when he is physically unwell. He even describes it as a waste of time. Connie persuades him.

Steven pays Doctor Maheswaran a visit, Connie escorts him in. As soon as Connie leaves the room for them to conduct tests, she calls Greg.

This episode really explores how both human and gem Steven really is. He has a human body and it is effected like a human body is. But he is also a gem, it makes his body react unusually and if he’s fractured skeleton is any indication, it is keeping him alive.

Dr. Maheswaran finds out about Steven’s physical traumas through his x-ray. She asks him if he had any particularly traumatic experiences. Steven basically recalls the entire show. Dr. Maheswaran goes on to describe the physical aspects of trauma and the way the body reacts in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen in any piece of fictional media. Steven’s body is trying to protect him from danger that isn’t there anymore. Minor stress to him is now the equivalent to major stress. To make things worse, he feels as though his support system is gone.

When he thinks back to the proposal, things go haywire. As his body continues to grow in size, he takes up more and more of the room. He is almost too big to fit. There is nowhere left for him to hide. He yells “I can’t be around you right now” much in the way he yelled “I just want to fix it” back in Volleyball. His yell shatters the windows.

Greg finally arrives, revealing that Connie had called him. Connie still very much cares about Steven. He explains to Greg that everything feels like the end of the world to him now.

Receiving understanding and support from Greg is what gets Steven to go back to his normal size. At home he continues to explain his fears and worries. All of which, as Greg explains, are normal. Steven now knows what his problem is, or at least one aspect of it, but I don’t think his problems are solved just yet. From the way he “swells up” in response to stress in this episode, I think something big is about to happen in the show. Something so big, that for his body to protect him from it, he will grow into the giant monster from the opening theme song.

Predictions for next week:

Discussion of leaks ahead

Mr. Universe: Still no episode description for this one, but I imagine this is where Steven crashes the van. Steven is still not in a great place right now, and while he seems more willing to talk about things, his body is still reacting in a way that is unsafe for him and others. I believe that this will lead to the van crashing. As others have pointed out, this episode may involve Pearl because she played a big part in the episode Mr. Greg. I still somehow think this episode will be the story of how Rose decided to have Steven, if not it will be about how Greg made the decision to drop out of college and take on the rockstar persona Mr. Universe.

Fragments: This is where that first leak came from, the “leave me alone I need space one”. I’m still not 100% sure what “fragments” is in reference to. Others I have discussed with have suggested memories. I am not entirely sure the direction of this.

#steven universe #steven universe future #su spoilers #suf spoilers #su leaks #suf leaks #long post #j posts about stuff #c #corrupted steven theory #Did tumblr like just eat this post or something #what's going on???

52 notes · View notes

lesbianlotties · 4 years

Text

Oh, my love, don’t forsake me - The Old Guard (2020) - Andy/Quynh

“When I leave, will you spend a thousand years grieving for me?”

The moment Quynh gives Andy her necklace. All the fears, all the love, and the promise behind it all.

read on ao3

All things considered, Andy thought, it was a nice day. The sun was shining above them its benevolent light and keeping them warm. The nature around them was all around pleasant and agreeable, keeping them fed and safe. Beside them, a graceful river flowed steadily, and it sated their thirst and refreshed their bodies after many long hours of mindless walking. Other than that and the animals they hunted every so often to share a humble meal, it was just Andy and Quynh. They knew that if they followed the river long enough, odds were they would find… something. People. But there was no guarantee nor expectation as to what kind of people and in which living conditions and arrangements they would find them. Or how long it would take to find them. If they would find them at all. But that was how they lived back then.

“You have been quiet,” Quynh told Andy some time mid-afternoon, just as some fresh breeze passed past them, threatening to steal away Quynh’s words if her walking companion didn’t reach out and take them in time.

Andy knew Quynh was right because, for the unending life of her, she couldn’t recall if she had said a single word since waking up. “It’s been a dull day,” Andy replied. Her voice was raspy for the lack of use and she had to clear her throat. Afterward, she could still feel the bitter taste of the lie. Technically though, it wasn’t a lie. Their day so far had felt graceless and unimportant. Andy had lived millions of days just like that one. Had lived, died, fought, loved, hurt on days like that one. But she was aware that she was the one that made this one day dull.

“I meant you have been quiet for the last few years.”

“Oh…” Andy frowned. She frowned mostly because she couldn’t fight the accusation. She frowned, too, because she knew what came next.

“Since Lykon’s death.”

At once Andy decided not to give Quynh the chance to continue that gentle attack of hers. “I am grieving,” she replied easily “Aren’t we supposed to?”

“Yes,” Quynh answered softly. After a pause though, she added, “But it’s been decades.”

“Well, he lived a long time,” Andy’s reply was cutting, almost harsh. She could feel the other woman’s eyes searching her face, trying to meet her eyes, but Andy wouldn’t budge.

“So, does that mean that when I-”

“No,” Andy sharply interrupted her, “Please don’t, Quynh.” And at once she started walking faster, running from something inescapable, running from death that wasn’t even hers.

Quynh chased after her. Her voice was strained when she asked, “When I leave, will you spend a thousand years grieving for me?”

“Yes!” Andy exclaimed as she turned around hastily, almost knocking against Quynh. “An eternity. I would grieve for you for as long I lived and more and- No! I won’t, because I can’t- won’t lose you. And we are not talking about this.”

Once again Andy tried to keep walking, at a faster pace, but it was futile. A few strides later it registered that she couldn’t hear Quynh following. She stopped in her tracks and sighed. The idea of this conversation pained her more than dying, for it couldn’t be undone.

“Denial isn’t a good look on you, Andromache.”

“It’s a weakness,” Andy replied automatically. She still had her back turned to her love. “Something I tend to avoid,” she smiled as she said it, content in the knowledge that Quynh most likely could hear and recognize that smirk in her voice.

“Not with me, you don’t have to.”

After some hundreds of years, impressively and almost magically quickly if you were to ask Andy’s opinion, Quynh had mastered the art of understanding Andy better than anybody else had ever done. Better than anybody else ever would. She was an expert at pushing Andy’s buttons in a way that was beautifully merciless. She pushed gently, she pried her open with care and with love, but she never gave up and she never let Andy get away with blocking her out.

“Quynh, please.” Andy pleaded, not without being reminded that only for this woman she would.

“Andy we have to talk about what happened.”

Andy turned around and found Quynh was standing still, with her arms crossed, and her beautiful face settled on an unreadable expression. Andy knew she wasn’t getting out of this but, warrior that she was, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. “We have talked about this,” she tried, as she slowly approached Quynh. “I told you, I am confused and I don’t understand it. I told you, I am heartbroken, and I miss him, but I’m glad he got to finally rest.”

The words made Quynh sigh and resume her walking. Somebody else would have assumed she had either accepted those words or her defeat. Andy knew better. She stood still until Quynh caught up with her, grabbed her hand, and gently pulled her forward. They continued walking together, holding hands. Quynh might have wanted to play with Andy’s fingers, to caress the palm of her hand, but Andy grasped her hand tightly, fervently, like a lifeline.

“You didn’t need to tell me those things, Andromache. I knew all of it, I feel the same,” Quynh spoke softly, gently helping Andy open up. “I want you to tell me the things you have been so quiet about.”

“Why?” Andy answered almost mindlessly as she looked down at her hand holding Quynh’s and the way they fit perfectly together.

“I’m all you’ve got,” Quynh replied, “What would you become, Andromache, if you kept your feelings bottled up for hundreds of years?”

A chill ran down Andy’s spine like a bad omen, an epiphany. She shook her head to get rid of the feeling and insisted, “You know me perfectly well, Quynh. I feel you already know whatever you want me to say out loud. Why should I?”

“Because I want to hear it,” this time Quynh’s response was almost playful, like the smile she gave and prompted Andy to mirror with a smile of her own as a natural reflex. “Talking about it helps. When will you ever learn?”

Then Quynh lifted their joined hands up and placed a kiss on Andy’s knuckles. This woman, wise in her understanding and ferocious in battle had shown Andy’s tenderness that she swore would forever be her undoing. “I am scared,” Andy confessed the very second she felt Quynh’s precious lips on her skin. “I am terrified beyond anything I’ve ever know. Terrified of losing you. Scared of not being ready when my time comes. Scared of you leaving and… scared of me leaving you.”

The intensity of her words had forced them to stop walking and to stand still staring at each other. Andy couldn’t understand why Quynh’s eyes were suddenly holding back tears. Didn’t she already know that was exactly what Andy couldn’t shake from her mind the moment they realized Lykon had died? But then it clicked in Andy’s mind. Of course Quynh knew, she told her herself, she felt the same. Of course there were tears in Quynh’s eyes, Andy realized, they were a mirror to her own watery eyes. They fought seamlessly in battle, synchronized, like each other’s shadows, like a reflection. It went far beyond the battlefield too.

“Close your eyes,” Quynh asked, “Close your eyes, Andromache.”

She had dropped Andy’s hand. And Andy, confused as she was about the request and already missing the touch of Quynh’s hand, she complied. She closed her eyes and as she waited for Quynh she worked on steadying her breath, on holding back the tears that wanted to escape, on burying down the weaknesses that she knew she didn’t need to hide. Finally, Quynh picked up her hand again and then very softly said, “Open your eyes.”

As Andy watched, Quynh pulled open the fist of Andy’s hand with the utmost delicacy, and then placed in her open palm her necklace. That very necklace that had been on her neck since the very first day Andy found her. The little object was possibly the most important physical possession Quynh ever had, and she was giving it away. It was monumentally important for Andy as well. Andy, who felt gravity failing her at the magnitude of the moment. It felt impossibly wrong to see Quynh without the necklace, and the necklace anywhere but hanging from Quynh’s neck. She gasped. She couldn’t say any words, but her eyes spoke all her questions for her.

“Because I need you to know that you won’t ever lose me,” Quynh said with as much intention as she was capable of. “Because I love you. Because I am terrified too. I am scared of the person you would be without me, the person I would be without you. Because I need to know that whatever happens, you will keep me with you, forever.”

Andy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the necklace. She closed her fist on it and her knuckles turned white. There was a knot on her throat, she closed her eyes tightly to avoid spilling her tears and her lungs felt like they were burning, but she said, “I promise.”

Quynh’s hand covered Andy’s fist and she pulled her closer, “Do you promise?”

“I promise, I promise,” Andy repeated.

The pressure was too much to bear alone. Simultaneously, they threw their arms around each other, they held each other as tightly as they could. They breathed in together, they cried in unison and they said, “I promise, I promise.”

As much as Andy liked to joke that she could spend “a thousand years or two” holding Quynh in her arms, eventually they had to let go of each other, and go through their nightly routine. Some time later, with their bellies full and a warm fire in front of them, they laid down to rest. Quynh sat down with her back against the trunk of a fallen tree. Meanwhile, Andy, who always would wind up more tired after displays of strong emotions than physical exertion, she laid down on the ground with her head resting on Quynh’s thighs.

Quynh’s fingers played with Andy’s hair. It wasn’t usual for Andy to completely let down her guard, to lay back and surrender her walls in order to bask in the affection the other woman endlessly gave her. But when she did, it was so easy, it came so naturally, and the feeling was so perfectly divine that it put to rest Andy’s thoughts on life, death, heaven, and hell. Life was worth it as long as she had Quynh with her. Death, even if unescapable, couldn’t scare her much when Quynh was by her side. Heaven was little moments like this, hell was watching Quynh go down during a battle, and heaven was every moment Quynh continued to breathe.

“Tell me about it,” Andy suddenly broke the silence of the night. Since her fingers wouldn’t stop playing with the necklace that now hung around her neck, there was no questioning what she was talking about.

“There is not much I can tell you. If I ever knew anything about it I have forgotten it. I did make the effort to remember I have had it since I was born."

Andy opened her mouth to say something about how she, at first, dreaded taking the symbolic object from Quynh, but now it felt impossibly right, like the missing piece from a puzzle. She felt whole and she couldn’t conceive the idea of ever taking it off. “That’s a long time,” she whispered instead.

Quynh chuckled at that, “Yes.” Her fingers, as if they had a mind of their own, left behind Andy’s hair and slowly traveled down the features of her face. The loving touch, so soothing and intimate, made Andy close her eyes and sigh out of sheer bliss. “It looks good on you,” Quynh pointed out a moment later.

She received a grin from Andy. “Good,” she replied. “I intend to keep both the necklace and you for as long as live.”

“I hope that is true.”

Quynh’s reply, although spoken with a soft smile, carried sadness in the tone and in her very expressive eyes. It was torture for Andy’s heart, the idea of Quynh unhappy or troubled. From the way Andy reacted, quiet and distant, then volatile and resistant, when faced with the reality of Lykon’s death, it said a lot of her pain. But now that the words were out in the open and they had bared their hearts, Quynh’s own pain was move visible, palpable, and jarring.

“It is,” Andy insisted. She raised from her spot in Quynh’s lap and sat down in front of her. The fire glowing behind her made her look just like the goddess some had believed her to be. “I carry that promise in me,” Andy spoke as one of her hands moved to grasp the necklace again, “I will carry that promise here with me forever.”

There would be time to worry, to doubt, and to fear in the many centuries to come. That, however, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be plenty of love, of joy, of moments of absolute happiness together. To prove such a point, Quynh smiled broadly and reached out. She held her necklace on Andy’s neck with her fingers, brushed her thumb over it. Then she tugged on it. Lightly, she tugged on it and Andy smiled as she understood the message and leaned forward. Their lips met in the middle, and they kissed each other in a delightful rhythm that could have gone on for a thousand years more.

#yes i post it twice i dont know why #the old guard #the old guard fanfiction #andy and quynh #andy x quynh #my fic

12 notes · View notes

evoedbd · 4 years

Text

A Moment of Rest

(This is set and written before season 3 came out. Slight NSFW due to nudity) SUMMERY - After fleeing across the land, facing the Retainers and literally begging Kya and Helena are finally given their moment in a hot bath. ************** Helena sighed softly as she tilted her head back. The bath was not as luxurious as the one in her quarters of the Witch Queen’s palace, nor did the stonework hold the same memories. The same nightmares. She had not cleaned her wounds in lonely silence here, nor had her hands mapped the landscape of her love’s gentle body. As unfamiliar as her former enemy’s palace was, it was a welcome relief to simply submerge her aching body in hot water. Steam rose from the cloudy surface, weaving through her mane of blonde hair and seeping up into the warm room. The walls were a light brown tinged cream, reflecting the gentle torchlight enough to give the illusion of a golden glow filling the room. The stone floor was an off white, gently complimenting the colouration of the rich wooden window frame. Curtains were drawn across the glass, rejecting the afternoon sun in favour of shadows. Yet, never was the dimness oppressive. If anything, it was comforting, adding to the gentle scented soaps and the faint wafting scent of baking foods from the kitchen down the halls.

“You seem more relaxed.” Kya’s soft voice playfully teased, even as she sat on the opposite side of the humongous stone tub. Her curious fingers reached out, tickling the surface of the water around Helena. Her flintstone eyes remained fixated on the ends of Helena’s hair, watching the white gold swirl through the steam with an awestruck smile. Kya, never one to push, kept her eyes averted from the War Mage as if looking would cost her sight itself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, Gods it was all she wanted to do. She longed to take in the sight of the beautiful Sorceress. It was almost a physical ache, forcing her muscles not to reach out and touch without invitation. Keeping herself so restrained when a siren lounged beside her. A siren singing of love and sacrifice, of all the agony of abusive hands melting away beneath love’s touch.

“Hmm.” Helena hummed noncommittally in agreement, suggesting her mind had wandered. The sound was soft, low and purring in her throat. It did, in truth, remind Kya of a sleepy cat. A content kitty curled up in the sun, relishing gentle petting from her human. Helena’s form shone in the water. Her naked skin glistened beneath the cloudy surface, gentle curves and outlines that flickered in the edge of Kya’s view. Try as she might to ignore temptation, Kya’s eyes eventually wandered to Helena’s shoulders, tracing over them for a brief moment as the Sorceress sighed again. Helena carried so much weight on her shoulders. The weight of over a thousand lives, all snuffed out with blades and magic. The weight of her role in the genocide of the Demon Race. The weight of the Witch Queen’s affections. Of torture and pain unending. Even now, Kya knew the dark bruising from her stab wound still painted her shoulder blade in fading yellows and blues. Gods, how Kya wished she could take the tension and pain from Helena. How she wished she could just wrap her arms around the taller woman and protect her from her nightmares.

“May I touch you?” The word fell from Kya’s lips before she could stifle them, breaking the content mood in an instant. Something tense hung in the air, threaded into the silence and radiating off the Sorceress in waves as she lifted her head. Her blonde locks hung down her defined back, gleaming like white gold in sunlight, embracing the curve of her shoulder as she turned to look at Kya. The hesitancy and surprise there nearly broke the poor girl from Chicago. It was a dumb question. Pushing. Demanding too much of the Mage. The fact they were even here, completely bare in each other’s space, was a huge accomplishment and that had been accomplished by dimming the room. Even in their most intimate moments, where Helena had shown Kya exactly what worship could feel like, the breathtakingly beautiful woman had never completely exposed herself. Never allowed her lover to touch her in turn. Nearly always craved darkness to shadow her form. The Witch Queen’s abuse ran deep in Helena’s soul, tainting almost every action.

“-and I have her hands. Her face. Even after our progress today I just kee- eeepp-” Kya’s thoughts trickled to a halt as Helena stood, coming out of the water to her waist.

“-Eyes on hers, Kya. Don’t be a perv. Don’t look down... I am too gay for this woman. Think of England. All your favourite shows cancelled. Cold rainy days. She is so hot- Nope. Damn. All this water and I am still thirsty! Just keep your EYES UP GIRL-“ Kya’s brain practically melted as she forced herself to keep her eyes on Helena’s, swallowing a lump in her throat at the smirk that crossed Helena’s lips. The Sorceress knew precisely what she was doing to Kya. Mercifully, Helena stepped toward the middle of the tub, sinking back down to her collarbone. The Former General’s brows lowered, her lips fixed in a contemplative line even as she slowly drew closer. The water parted, whispering over creamy skin and flushed patches of the magical creature. Helena, even completely concealed, stole Kya’s breath away once more as her hand reached out for Kya’s.

“Are you not satisfied, gentle heart? Do you need me again?” Helena’s voice was low, touched with longing as she came into Kya’s space. The raven haired girl blushed furiously, spluttering at the thoughts that followed. Helena was VERY good at satisfying. Too good. So good she technically failed her goal considering Kya always wanted her Sorceress. It was worse than a caffeine addiction! Kya forever craved her sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Any moment with Helena was wonderful, from simply eating together to the most intimate touches. Her thoughts had not drifted to far towards debauchery until Helena’s deep blue eyes roamed down to the water, clearly inspecting her body. Worship, adoration and desire waged war in Helena’s eyes, which softened even as they darkened. They appeared to flare black with something which was not her raw magic. It was more akin to hunger. Raw and primal, tempered by loving intent.

“I-I always want you. But I didn’t mean THAT!” Kya hurriedly squeaked, earning an amused yet tender smile from the taller woman. Whilst desire stole her breath, Helena’s genuinely pleased expressions erased breath from Kya’s being. They encompassed the girl in warmth, as if her blood had turned to liquid happiness.

“I just wanted to. I don’t know, cuddle? Help wash your back, maybe your hair, but I know you’re working through a lot and we went further today. I mean, we’re in the same tub, completely naked, and there’s even light! I don’t want to pressure you. I know you have a lot to work through from the Bitch, I mean Witch Queen and-“

“My love.” Helena fondly silenced the rambling woman, her eyes glistening as if she may shed tears. The look of awe and surprise whenever she was offered a choice broke Kya’s heart. Helena had come a long way, but even with such progress she couldn’t fully conceal her shock when she was even offered a thank you. Praise made the Mage bloom, with startled laughs and gleeful smiles that the iciest façade couldn’t smother or contain. The first time Kya had seen the Mage’s alarm at consideration, the girl from another world had vowed to show Helena every kindness. Every small thing people took for granted. For a few moments, nothing but the gentle sloshing of the water filled their ears, along with the thumping of their hearts. Then, Helena broke the silence.

“The same boundary applies. I wish I could offer more of myself, but I... I simply cannot. Not yet.” The Sorceress hung her head, joy washing from her expression. Deep blue eyes dimmed, slamming shut to conceal the emotion within. In that instant, Helena acted as if she were dirty. A filthy creature for not submitting her body to another. For fearing a touch that had only ever been torture, even at its most exquisite.

“Helena,” Kya gently scolded, silencing the Mage’s apology as she stood in the tub. With her breasts exposed, Kya had to fight back the urge to conceal herself. Heat rose in her cheeks, unbidden and unwelcome. She shivered as she felt the sting of cold air, along with water trickling suggestively down her exposed figure. The droplets shone like diamonds across her pale skin in the low lighting, catching in the shadows between her breasts and the hollow of her throat. She was not as in shape as Helena, with a healthy layer of fat over her fine frame. No muscles showed when she moved, stepping just a little closer so she could reach out and cup Helena’s cheek. Now, Helena didn’t flinch. She leaned into the offered affection, nuzzled even before pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of Kya’s wrist, lips pressed adoringly to the hammering pulse. It took a moment for her gaze to drift upwards, once again meeting Kya’s.

The otherworldly girl had fascinatingly beautiful eyes. Grey like storm clouds, yet touched with flecks of blue that made them deeper. The way they twinkled was almost like the night sky, gleaming beneath dark hair and amidst pale skin. They always disarmed Helena, especially when they were filled with such tenderness. When they were so soft and utterly devoted to the Sorceress.

“What the Queen did to you was horrific. You survived for so many years, Helena. The fact you can even look at me, let alone let me touch you anywhere. I’ll never do that. I won’t hurt you like she did.” her voice was soft. So gentle and yet so fierce. A blanket wrapping around Helena’s senses, tender to the woman it embraced and stern to all outside threats. As if the fierce edge could give the abusive Queen pause.

“I know, my love. You’re not her. You may look alike, but that is where the similarities end. Her touch held no kindness. Yours... I feel like I could be worth...” the Sorceress began to hesitate, unable to find the right words.

“Helena, you’re everything to me. You gave up everything you had to protect me. Stood up to the most terrifying woman in history just for the chance of saving me. You deserve kindness. You deserve to be loved. I’m not going to stop telling you that until you believe it. I’m your girlfriend, Helena Klein. That means I get to compliment you whenever I like, especially when its true. Get used to it.” Kya was quick to cut in, unable to contain herself any longer. Her fingers ghosted gently along Helena’s flesh as she moved her thumb in a circle, rubbing over Helena’s cheekbone as if she might find tears falling. Again, blue eyes went wide in alarm and gratitude, only to then be flooded with such love that it felt as if the air had been stolen from Kya’s lungs.

“Touch me.” Helena’s invitation was simple, but it was enough. The way her eyes glistened and her voice trembled, it was clear she was overcoming some form of obstacle in her tormented mind to allow it. Kya, despite her urge to rush, moved slowly. She kept everything telegraphed, watching Helena’s face like a hawk for the slightest trace if fear. Anticipation burned in the Mage’s eyes, along with such an intense curiosity that it overshadowed the lingering concern. Just like in the forest when Helena had discarded the Queen’s colours.

“Do you want me, you know, not look?” Kya’s question was gentle as she lowered herself in the water again, sitting chest to chest with her Sorceress yet never touching. Flint eyes stayed focused on Helena’s, never giving into the temptation of drifting downwards as she watched Helena’s expression shift. The soft smile she received was not what Kya expected, nor did she dare hope for the next move. Helena, with a small shiver, reached out to Kya, grasping her by the hips. Helena’s long fingers dug into her flesh, using the pads of her fingers instead of her nails. The touch was not aggressive or painful despite its eagerness. Merely curious, learning how best to fit together. Kya could feel the calluses formed by years of combat, yet Helena’s hands were equally as soft. Her touch was softer as her palms slid along Kya’s skin, seeking out the most natural place to rest. Even when the Mage suddenly pulled Kya to her chest, closing the distance between them, she never once caused pain.

“Oh!” Kya gasped, blinking at the feeling of her naked curves crushed against Helena’s. That was new, enough to make Kya’s skin tingle. If she had thought it warm before, the burst of uncontrolled flame in her veins eradicated all previous concepts of heat. Judging by the brilliant pink staining Helena’s cheeks, the Mage felt the same way.

“-I wonder if her magic would have flared?-“ Kya couldn’t help but ponder, cheeks going even brighter at the thought of magic crackling over the Mage’s bare form. Helena was always warm. From the moment Kya had first hugged the Spell Caster, she had always been impervious to the cold. Icy weather and terrifying forests hadn’t been enough to steal Helena’s heat. Kya noted how cold the Mage felt in comparison. Without her magic freely flowing, Helena felt almost sick against her despite the healthy weight and muscle. Helena’s magic, however terrifying it had been to the world, was a missing piece of her. It radiated in everything, and yet was barely noticeable at the same time. Kya doubted anybody who hadn’t spent so long studying Helena would even notice.

“Did it hurt? Having your magic sealed?” Kya questioned before she could stop herself, instinctively bringing her hands to Helena’s shoulders. She felt the tension radiate through every muscle, the flowing strings beneath her palms as Helena’s head fell forwards. The Mage rested her forehead against Kya’s shoulder, nose burrowing into the younger woman’s neck as she took a deep, calming breath.

“When I was with her, if I did not control it the Queen would seal my magic away. She’d leave me bound for hours, or she would touch me until it went beyond tolerance. I had to learn to think through the pain and heat to do as she commanded. I was taught thank her for such lessons without begging her to stop, less she take my voice too.” The Mage finally confessed, pressing into Kya’s reassuring warmth. For Helena, she loved warmth. It meant her magic was free and the Queen’s hands were far from her. Perhaps that is what she loved about Kya. Kya’s gentle touch was always warm, and inspired heat to bloom in the Mage’s chest. An emotional warmth she had never been able to experience before. It was enough to combat the shame of the Queen’s forced touch. Of every indecent thing she had forced Helena to learn and say for her pleasure. Kya was a balm, a remedy to all the pain of Helena’s life. Kya nurtured her, encouraging Helena to embrace her own desires. Kya had a kind word for every opinion, praise for every spell, love and acceptance every time Helena broke under the weight she bore. Kya practically shone when Helena preformed even the smallest acts of good which the Queen had crushed from her.

“You’re so amazingly strong, Helena. I’m so proud of you.” Kya whispered fiercely, although they were alone in the room. The Chicago girl wanted to murder the Bitch Queen. Wanted to take a chainsaw and rocket launcher and every cliché action hero weapon and destroy the castle. Destroy the evil that had broken the woman in her arms. Instead of reacting with rage, however, Kya decided to focus on Helena. To show Helena she was not ashamed or afraid of the Mage after all she had suffered. Kya wrapped one arm around Helena’s back, pulling the Sorceress closer as her other hand came up to Helena’s hair. Her fingers brushed through the strands, rubbing gentle circles on Helena’s scalp in an effort to be soothing.

“-I’m going to fucking kill that bitch... but I can’t. She has all that power and I’m just me. But I WON’T let her touch Helena again. She won’t hurt Helena. Nobody will while I’m here.-“ Kya’s protective thoughts crumbled into horror when Helena tilted her head back, eyes closed and jaw tense. The Mage’s expression showed acceptance, as if resigned to the fact she must surrender. Try as she might, Helena couldn’t force her jaw to relax, couldn’t erase the crease of fear in her brow after responding to the gentle pressure of Kya’s fingers. Helena had been waiting, expecting the harsh pull and the touch of magic to her throat. She waited for the pain as she was dragged, to be positioned like a toy for her Queen to play with. Yet, this had been different. The touch had been so gentle, so considerate. But... what else could the gesture be requesting if not her submission?

“Helena? Whats wrong? Did I hurt you? I’m here. She can’t touch you. Helena, come back,” Kya’s voice held an edge of worry, nothing like the teasing of the Queen. Helena took a breath. Waiting. Would it be harsh teeth this time, or the gentlest kiss to deliver the poisonous ice to her flesh? She waited. Another breath. Nothing. The fingers continued their movement, each circle giving the most gentle pull to the little hairs. Yet, Kya’s hand never moved. Never pushed. Never yanked. Simply rested, almost in a comforting manner. Helena blinked, finally focusing on the feeling of the fingers against her scalp. It... It actually felt good. Really, really good. Soothing enough to draw a soft groan of contentment from her after a moment. Of course, her cheeks flared as the sound escaped, utterly ashamed. Although her jaw softened, her brows remained furrowed, unable to solve the puzzle of what was happening to her.

“Nobody has ever played with your hair? Or given you a head massage?” Kya questioned, recognizing the pattern of Helena contemplating something unfamiliar. It was sickening. How quickly a soft gesture could be mutilated into torture, especially this type of torture. It was enough to earn a small sniffle from Kya, even as she tried to swallow the lump from her throat.

“-Oh, poor Helena-“

“Turn around and I’ll wash your hair for you. Or just hold you... is that alright?”

“Both sound lovely.” Helena finally responded, shifting to her feet. Kya yelped, slamming her eyes shut before the woman’s breasts broke the waterline. The water once more swished and sloshed gently, filling Kya’s ears. She waited, feeling the water push against her knees and thighs as Helena turned. That said, Kya was only human. Her eyes snapped open at Helena’s amused chuckle, finding her view filled with the Mage’s back. The skin was not flawless, instead it was covered in silvery lines. Some appeared to be from blades, likely from the battle field, yet others were strange. Biting and deep, as if delivered in precise rage.

“-Whipmarks? That cliché vilianous bitch!-“ Kya furiously came to realize, staring at the tapestry of the Queen’s abuse. Of Helena’s strength. Oddly enough, the curves of each scar reminded Kya of the moon, whilst the scattered lines may as well have been shooting stars. These scars made Helena’s flesh brighter than any diamonds as torchlight and water highlighted them. It was almost ethereal. Of course, the glistening beauty was nothing compared to the subtle quirk of Helena’s lip as she gazed over her shoulder at Kya.

“I am too gay for this.” Kya whimpered. Her eyes were like saucers, attempting to pick out every line past Helena’s glorious hair as the Mage finally dropped back into the water.

“I’m happy too, my love.” the Mage sighed, earning a bright blush and actual giggle from Kya.

“-Too freaking adorable.-“ Her thoughts swooned. Quickly, she decided not to delve into the explanations of sexualities and such of her world. Homophobia didn’t appear to be a thing in this one, thank heavens, and if it was Kya had no intention of bringing it up.

“So. How long do you think it will be before they let us into the village? We could go shopping for new clothes. You could pick out some outfits.” Kya inquired, leaning forwards to press her lips to Helena’s shoulder before she could stop herself. The soft skin beneath her lips remained relaxed, even as Helena tilted her head back to rest it on Kya’s shoulder. Between the subdued taste of Helena’s flesh and the tickling of her hair, Kya found herself sighing in bliss. There were no expectations. No goals. Nothing but the single moment.

“Given we have agreed to face the Queen, not as long as we think. Lord Wolfson undoubtedly will be merciful. However, I don’t believe he will simply allow us to wander into the village. Not without guards.”

“Of course he’ll give your magic back, you are awesome. You’re beautiful, smart and your magic is fucking wild!” Kya enthused. This time, Helena’s laugh was more amused than startled, almost sleepy given how she melted against Kya.

“I suppose it could be, for those who haven’t seen it before.” Helena agreed, shifting until her back rested comfortably against Kya’s chest. The closeness was nice, the Mage quickly decided. Even though she could feel Kya’s heart thumping, and every twitch as the woman’s breathing hitched, she didn’t fear that Kya would pressure her. The otherworldly woman had proven time and time again that she wanted Helena at Helena’s pace.

“I remember the Queen. I remember what little choice I was given. How she took her pleasure without a care for mine.” Helena admitted after a long silence, allowing her eyes to drift closed once more. She wanted to give, to allow Kya closer than the physical world could ever allow. Even driven by this desire, the words had threatened to weave into a knot at the back of her throat. The pressure had been enough to force her to swallow back bile and bitter emotions. The memories of the two women warred in Helena’s mind. The same face and hands, yet entirely different women. The Queen’s violence terrified her. Harsh hands or ropes around her wrists. A knife or spell always pushing for Helena’s breaking point, just to torment her further. Pain and disgust warring within her once she was left to lick her wounds. On the other, Kya’s mercy soothed her fears. The gentlest kiss to her chin, accompanied by a soft laugh and kind word. Tender hands cradling hers as cloth washed away the grime of battle. Always sweet. Always asking, offering more and more whilst Helena could only accept. Helena could do anything for her lover, except invite her touch in return.

“May I hold you?” Kya asked softly, allowing her arms to swish the water against Helena’s body to let the Mage know what she meant. Again, Kya did not punish her for her denial. Did not mistreat her or judge her. Kya understood those words had been difficult enough, allowed them to pass in favour of giving comfort. Helena gave a short nod, offering her consent. The shorter woman’s lithe arms slid around the Mage’s waist, delivering a gentle hug. Instantly, Helena’s hands dropped to hers, holding them firmly as if expecting pain. Sharp nails bit into Kya’s skin, forcing her to bite back a whimper.

“Are you alright? I can let you go if you need?” she questioned, her voice remaining as level as possible. She should have known. Should have realised Helena would fear feeling trapped. Helena might hold her, might explore every little inch of her skin, but it was always Helena in control. Helena’s power over her as she surrendered. Never like this. Never where she held Helena in her arms.

“Don’t. Just...” Helena pleaded, her voice a little sharper from her startled situation. Even then, Helena’s grip softened, fingertips rubbing apologetically over the indentations. Kya didn’t flinch. Instead, she shifted her fingers up, attempting to weave them through Helena’s in a comforting manner. The Mage seemed shocked, but didn’t object as both her hands clung to that intimate contact. The opposite hand threaded their fingers together, embracing the intimate gesture. The other clung lightly to Kya’s wrist, unable to completely surrender her sense of control.

“I love you.” Kya’s voice was a soft reminder. The woman tilted her head, shifting to deliver a gentle peck to Helena’s cheek to emphasise her words. One kiss became two, given Kya’s inability to pull away. Afterwards, the tip of her nose dragged against the soft curve of Helena’s cheek, nuzzling affectionately as Kya breathed in the scent of her lover. Of wet hair and magic, mixing with the finest soaps and the indescribably natural, perfect smell that was just Helena. Pale skin flushed rose at the contact. Then deep blue eyes blinked lazily, once again reminding Kya of a content cat.

“Can we stay like this for a moment, my love?”

“Let me sit and we can stay as long as you like.” Kya countered, gently tightening her arms for a moment in a reassuring squeeze. Her lips curled up into a delighted smile, one which could be described as goofy. Kya didn’t care how she looked, her chest expanded with warmth and light. Her blood bubbled, little puffs of joy igniting every single nerve in her body. Even relaxed, Kya’s entire being felt as if it were singing.

“A dangerous promise, my love.” Helena purred as she surrendered to the guidance, moving with Kya. It seemed to be instinct, to move together and yet never give up their closeness or trip each other. Perhaps Helena’s acute awareness served beyond the battlefield, Kya reasoned. Afterall, the woman had fought at least ten men off and still noticed Kya’s form with a shield enough to give her clear directions. Once at the inbuilt seat of the basin, Kya dropped carefully, allowing her legs to float up around Helena’s hips. Once more, the Mage tensed, yet only for a moment before she lowered herself to sit between Kya’s legs.

Both women paused at the position, taking note of the new intimacy. Once, their positions had been reversed. Helena sitting behind her lover, whispering heated things in Kya’s ear as hands roamed. This time, Kya was the one with an armful of naked woman, and hands were certainly not going to roam without explicit permission.

Helena’s superior height left Kya with a mouthful of hair and shoulder, which was just a little too high for her to comfortably rest her chin on. Helena must have sensed this, given ho quickly she found a way to move. She shifted, bringing both of her legs up over one of Kya’s until her knees broke the surface of the water. Kya had to swallow back her emotions, bite back every compliment she wanted to pile on the gorgeous woman in her lap. Helena’s head tipped forwards, once again allowing her nose to burrow into the American’s neck, pressing to the pounding pulse. Their hands relocated, as Kya’s grip changed to Helena’s hip in order to support her. The Mage only briefly tensed at the unfamiliar touch, yet was soothed by a few simple rubs of Kya’s thumb over the bone. With a small cough, Kya shifted to wrap her nervously trembling arm around Helena’s back. Oddly enough, Helena didn’t feel any memories creeping up her spine, didn’t feel her muscles scream at her to retreat. She could not draw a situation like this to her memory. Never had the Queen cradled her so gently, or simply indulged in her presence. Whilst Kya’s hands were not in her control, and in a new place, it was almost like when the poor girl clung to her. Like when she was above and in control, or pulling Kya into her embrace.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Helena. I wish we could spend every day like this.” Kya finally whispered, tilting her head so that she could rest her cheek cautiously on Helena’s head. A small shiver worked through Helena’s body, yet it was not one of terror. Her cheeks flushed with delight, as if she were intoxicated on the girls presence. Unable to resist, the Mage pressed her lips to Kya’s neck. Warmth met her touch, along with a gentle throbbing pressure. She could feel Kya swallow, feel her pulse jumping rapidly. It was awe inspiring to Helena, that she could entice these reactions from the woman so effortlessly.

“You tease me, saying such things.” she commented back, only to feel the pressure on her head briefly grow, then retreat. As if Kya had shaken her head. Dark hair fell across her own, shadows and moonlight combined. It was remarkably cold, having someone else’s wet hair over her cheek. There was also an inexplicable weight behind it, pushing down in varying pressures. Tickling her upper lip. It was enough for Helena to lift her hand, moving the midnight mass over Kya’s shoulder.

“I’m serious, Helena. You haven’t heard enough about how wonderful you are. And this? Just us together, its peaceful. I love helping you relax.” Kya tenderly declared, her smile too pure for the world. Helena couldn’t help but bring her hands to Kya’s cheeks, even as she tilted her own head enough to press their lips together. Kissing. It was so unusual for the Mage, yet she couldn’t get enough of it. It always encouraged the strange tingling in her lips, matched in her stomach and cheeks. It made her feel lighter, especially at the subtly bitter taste of her lover. Helena never liked bitter, yet something about the delicate savory flavor of Kya was addictive.

“This is still new to me. I don’t always believe I deserve it, after everything I have done.” the Mage confessed once their lips parted. Every word she had heard from the retainers, everything she had been taught. It all echoed in her head. As if finding the moment her thoughts were quiet and invading. A thousand little soldiers each delivering their small cuts.

“You’re not an evil person, Helena. The Queen taught you to be merciless, tortured you for years. Despite that you showed mercy. To men who would kill you. To your enemy. That doesn’t mean I approve of all the horrible things you’ve done, but I know you’re more than what the Queen made you. I know you can be better. That you want to be. So does Lord Reiner.” Kya reminded her gently, shifting her hand from Helena’s hip. The girl’s fingers gently brushed against Helena’s cheek, gathering a wet strand of hair to tuck behind Helena’s ear. The gesture was sweet, offered with a serious look in Kya’s eye. Even when she admitted disappointment and disapproval, Kya’s gaze was loving. Kya’s love was not dependent on success or failure, Helena was coming to realize. Kya loved HER. Not her magic, not her uncanny ability to kill. Not her ability to please. Just... her.

“And now I must fight against -“

“The woman who abused you. I’m here, Helena. You’re so strong. You can help beat the Queen, you can face her. Even if it hurts, I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m yours, Helena Klein.” Kya combated, giving her declaration so gently it brought tears to Helena’s eyes. This time, the Mage did not resist, allowing them to silently fall against Kya’s flesh as her head bowed. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, yet Kya did not give voice to the fact Helena broke. Instead, a gentle hand stroked up and down the war scarred shoulders. Caressing every bad memory and imperfection, tenderly tracing the bones of her spine within acceptable reach. Kya’s touch aimed to draw the tension away, a silent reassurance that was as powerful as her scent.

“Its ok, Helena. Let it out.” Kya soothed, although her voice was a distant comfort for Helena. The Mage sobbed, sniffling and whimpering as the pain washed over her. Physical pain she could handle. She had suffered enough that it was a familiar companion. The only thing she had truly felt for years. The loving caress down her back was an anchor, a constant that allowed her mind to drift. Kya would protect her. Kya, her sweet, merciful love. The guardian of her heart.

The water had begun to cool by the time Helena’s tears ran dry, fading into shallow breaths against her lover’s neck. Though quiet, Helena’s sobs had drained her of all energy, leaving her almost boneless in Kya’s lap. The smaller girl’s arms remained wrapped around Helena, cuddling the slumbering woman as close as possible. Kya’s cheek rested atop Helena’s head, her petite nose buried in golden fields of hair. The scent of flowers mixed with Helena’s natural fragrance, a smell which made every blink slower. Every time Kya’s eyelids dropped, they felt heavier, even as memories of kinder times danced through her mind. Desires and fantasies collided, making way to gentle dreams that drew a smile to her lips.

“-If I were in my world, would she want to live with me? Would a dingey little apartment be enough? Would we be the couple with a cat?-“ Kya’s silent questions brought a crease to her brow. Helena was beautiful enough to be a model, one strutting down the runways of Paris. Perhaps an actress, seducing the hearts of America with her breathtaking smile and perfect eyes. Kya could picture it, the way Helena could appear so enticing and dangerous at the same time.

“-They’d want her in a playboy magazine-“

that thought earned a small huff. Even in her imagination, jealousy flared at the thought of anybody getting to see Helena in that light. In anybody seeing those smiles reserved for the most private moments, or seeing the tender vulnerability Helena was capable of.

“My Ladies? Lord Wolfson requires your attendance in the dining hall.” Solaire’s voice roused Kya faster than a dose of cold water. Instantly she tensed, yet she forced herself to remain still. Helena’s gentle breaths against her continued, a blast of heat followed by the sharpest chill. Even as Kya shivered, she lifted her head, fixing the Faerie who had entered with a silent glare.

“Shh! Helena’s asleep!” Kya scolded quietly. Her glare only remained for a few more moments before an apologetic smile fixed itself upon her lips. Kya wasn’t truly offended by Solaire’s presence, yet she knew Helena absolutely would be. Fortunately, the Mage continued to slumber, only giving a small whimper of malcontent when Kya shifted .

“My apologies, Lady Kya...” Solaire trailed off, her icy eyes widening a little as she stared at the scene before her. If someone had told the Faerie that she would see the fearsome Helena Klein sleeping in her lover’s arms, Solaire would have likely not believed them. Now, after all the had seen, it was almost a pity to spoil such a moment. She quickly lowered her gaze, noting the flush that touched Kya’s cheek, only to notice the silvery lines beneath white gold locks. A gasp escaped the maid before she could stifle it, earning a rather harsh look from the otherworldly lady.

“Its just Kya, I’m not a lady and... What?” Kya almost demanded. Her arm tightened around Helena, almost as if the gesture alone could shield the Mage.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to pry. It is just I have not seen such scars on prisoners of the Queen, let alone her most faithful.”

“The Queen found it more fun to torment Helena, and she had more time to do it.” Kya informed softly, a saddened sigh escaping her. Flintstone eyes grew softer as Kya lowered her gaze to Helena, followed by a tender kiss to the Mage’s temple. Helena mumbled softly and snuggled closer, yet she did not wake.

“I did not realize the extent of her cruelty to those closest to her. If I may, I also did not realize how soft Gener- Helena could look.”

“Its not just looks. Can I have a few more minutes? She deserves as much downtime as she can get.”

“Of course, My lady. I’ll delay as long as possible.” the Faerie agreed, bowing her head once more before she rushed off. She hurried away in a storm of orange fabrics, likely returning to the kitchens.

Once alone again, Kya sighed, turning her focus towards Helena. For a few moments, Kya considered waking the Sorceress. She tried to guess just how long it would take to be ready for such a feast, what might be asked of them. Kya knew that despite the Retainer’s mercy, they would still be hostile to Helena. She knew the war had grown tensions, and that even the servants might have ill intent towards her love. After a minute, she calmly laid her cheek to Helena’s head, basking in the close contact.

She could handle being late. She could handle being considered rude, or accused of sleeping in. Everything that might be thrown their way, Kya was more than prepared to weather.

Helena deserved a moment of peace.

#lovestruck #lovestruck helena #Helena Klein #Helena x MC #a little bit of angst #Lesbian fluff #MC is a useless bi

51 notes · View notes

yoongi-sugaglider · 4 years

Text

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God,star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they're sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

preview word count: 567

Whispered words followed her, a broken cacophony of lyrics spinning through her mind as she attempted to make sense of what was going on before her.

Yoongi watched her mind work, knowing that what he’d just said would either turn her against him or guide her back to the joyful woman he’d fallen in love with.

“Julia? Talk to me...please?”

She shook her head, eyes clenched shut as if not seeing him could drown out his words.

“No Yoongi...not this time.”

Standing quickly she grabbed her bag, chair scraping loudly against the linoleum floor. She threw him one last pain filled glance before she disappeared into the crowd and out the door.

He stared despondent at the empty chair she’d just occupied. Once again she’d pushed him away. Once again she’d refused to hear the truth of her own reality. What would it take to get through to her? What would it take for her to see that he was only trying to save her from her own mistakes? From something that was basically killing her.

A growl escaped him, feral as the wolf within him. Fists clenched against cold unfeeling wood, claws threatening to break free and puncture the delicate skin of his palm.

He snapped to reality when the server came over, asking him to leave before his display of aggression chased away the timid humans around him.

A nasty comment thrown over his shoulder later and he stood once more in the cold, unfeeling rain outside. Turning the collar of his jacket up against the dripping wetness he turned towards his home, knowing the questions that would be launched at him, knowing the concern that would fill his brothers’ eyes as he told them that once more he’d failed to convince her. That once more he might have been moments away from losing her forever thanks to her hard headed determination to escape his unending concern.

“Hyung?” Jimin’s voice broke through the perpetual storm of his rage.

He glanced around, only just realizing that he’d made it home and now sat on the massive wrap around sofa in the living room of his dorm.

“Hyung did you hear me?” Jimin reached out a hand, eyes filled with sorrow for the stewing rage flowing off of Yoongi in waves.

Yoongi sighed, having to physically restrain himself from snapping at the young pup.

“Sorry Jimin. No, I didn’t hear you.”

“Ah..w...well the others are all at dance practice but...since you seemed like you were in a crummy mood I thought I’d stay behind and keep you company...if...if you want?” The dancer reached his hand out, eyes seeming to plead with Yoongi to accept the invitation for a listening ear.

The wolf within retreated, gaining Yoongi a clear head that allowed him to reach for and clasp Jimin’s hand in his own.

“I...yeah. I’m sorry Jimin. I know how much practice means to you, I just…”

“She didn’t want to hear it again?”

Yoongi nodded, eyes closing as he leaned his head against the back of the couch. “I swear it’s like she enjoys living with all of that pain.”

“Now I highly doubt that.” Jimin chided, lips pursed as he frowned at his weary elder. “She’s afraid hyung. Probably too afraid of what it could mean to be happy. Of what it could mean to finally be free.”

#bts boulangerie #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #werewolf yoongi #reincarnated au #bts reincarnation au #yoongi reincarnation au

35 notes · View notes

eviesmyspiritanimal · 4 years

Text

A Black Spot in a Sea of White

Summary: Mal, Evie, and Jay suffer a horrible loss. In memory of Cameron Boyce, forever our one and only Carlos de Vil. He will be forever missed. ❤Familial feels and seemingly unending angst with an unexpected happy ending.

“How is he? Where is he?!” Mal demanded as her, Evie, Jay, and Dude stormed into the medical wing. The woman at the receptionist desk looked up at the trio, completely unimpressed by Mal’s boisterous entrance.

“Who exactly are you speaking of?”

“Just the only guy in this whole hospital that is currently seizing himself to death!” Mal screeched.

“Are you family?” she questioned, bored with the situation.

It was like a bomb had gone off. Mal immediately felt such anger and frustration that she almost couldn’t answer the woman. After a moment of her mouth moving in unmentionable words, she finally was able to speak.

“Of course we are his family. Now tell me where he is!” Mal slammed her fist on the desk, her eyes glowing a dangerous shade of green. Dude barked, emphasizing her hit. The woman immediately looked considerably more afraid.

“The Intensive Care Unit,” she stuttered, much more respectfully than before. The threesome immediately took off.

Mal’s mind raced, a million regrets floating through her mind. She should have noticed that he seemed sluggish on the field. She should have insisted that he not go to the tournament. She should have known.

This was Carlos. That boy was her little brother. She needed him. Evie needed him. Jay needed him. He was the light of hope and humor that shone bright in their lives. And now, all because of their inattentiveness, he could lose his life.

The three of them burst into the room, an air of purpose surrounding them.

The room was horrifying, sheets separating individual beds. There were frail bodies lying beneath each of those sheets, and she stared at them with wide eyes.

There was a doctor as well as several nurses surrounding one particular bed. Mal stepped forward carefully and she felt Evie grab her hand gently. Jay rested his hand on Mal’s shoulder that was opposite to him.

They slowly made the journey to the bed.

A floorboard squeaked and the doctor turned to look at them. He was a gray-haired man with a mean receding hairline. His eyes were crystalline blue and his skin was pale. Combined with his snowy white coat, he seemed to be devoid of any and all color.

Almost like death, Mal couldn’t help but think.

His eyes softened somewhat when he saw the three VKs, and he moved over to greet them.

“It’s good that you all are here. I am Doctor Mortem. I already know the three of you, being that the lot of you are such an infamous group.” He shook the bluenette’s hand, and then Evie had to let go of Mal’s hand for a moment so that the purple-haired girl could as well. Evie quickly latched back on as soon as Mal was finished. Jay removed his hand from Mal’s shoulder to exchange his greetings.

The three of them stared at the man expectantly, simultaneously eager for and dreading the news that was to come.

He eyed them all in turn very slowly with a gravity in his gaze that left Mal with a deep chill in her bones.

“We have had to revive him five times since the incident. His body isn’t able to take much more of the stress that comes with the resuscitation, and if we were to attempt it again, it would likely trigger another seizure that would actually succeed in killing him,” the doctor paused, sighing as he rubbed his face with a hand. Mal felt the fear inside of her building rapidly.

“I am afraid that he won’t make it much longer.”

It felt like a knife to the stomach. Stabbing again and again and again. Mal flinched as if she had truly been physically hit.

She was about to lose all circulation in her hand as Evie squeezed tighter than she had ever thought was humanly possible. Mal could feel Jay’s chest just behind her left shoulder blade as it trembled like a leaf. Dude was huddled next to her leg, pressed as closely as he could get.

“C-can we see him now?” Evie weakly asked, voicing what Mal herself couldn’t say at that moment.

“Of course,” the doctor nodded his head solemnly and maneuvered around them to leave the room. The nurses surrounding the bed dispersed as well, going to other parts of the room to attend more patients.

She almost couldn’t even recognize him. The seizure did something to him- it made him look just as frail as the other bodies surrounding them. He was lying there, his eyes glaze over and his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

They moved forward and Jay moved over to grab the girls two chairs. Evie shared a glance with Mal and she opened her arms a bit, offering the purple-haired girl a hug. Mal looked at her with longing, both wanting to be comforted by her sister’s embrace and not wanting to show weakness.

In the end, she settled for locking arms with Evie and pressing her forehead against the bluenette’s quietly. There was the sound of chairs being dragged around and stopped carefully, and Mal suddenly felt Jay’s hand resting on her shoulder.

She knew it was time to face the facts. The two girls hesitantly pulled away from one another and split up. Evie and Mal sat down on opposite sides of the bed and Jay stood at the end of the bed, his hands holding the bar at the foot of the bed in a death grip as his knuckles turned white.

Dude jumped into Mal’s lap, looking at his boy quietly. After a moment, he stepped onto the bed gently and nudged his hand.

Carlos carefully and slowly moved his head to look at the dog. A ghost of a smile appeared, and he feebly raised his hand to pet Dude’s head.

“Hey, Lil’ C,” Mal spoke, forcing her voice to sound stronger than she felt. His eyes shifted up to look at her. “We came here to see you,” Mal explained, reaching out and taking his hand gently.

“Evie’s on your other side and Jay’s right down there,” Mal motioned her head toward Jay at the foot of the bed. Carlos never took his eyes off of Mal. Mal couldn’t help but worry that he might not have heard her. Or worse, that he didn’t have the energy to look at the other two.

“Mal,” he started and paused for a long moment, the green-eyed girl attentively listening. Evie took his other hand in the time that he was quieted. “Am I dying?” he whispered, looking Mal straight in the eyes.

Her mouth immediately went dry, and her heart almost felt like it stopped beating as she avoided his gaze to consider her response to his question. He had asked her specifically. He knew that Mal wouldn’t keep the truth from him. He knew she wouldn’t lie.

Mal hesitantly brought her eyes back to his, hoping that she wouldn’t have to utter the words.

After a moment, his eyes fell away from her own and she knew he understood. They sat in silence for a moment and she could hear Evie’s whine rise in her throat, that definitive sign that Evie was about to cry.

But she couldn’t hold her regrets back any longer. She had to tell him. She didn’t care if he’d die hating her, but she had to try to apologize.

“Carlos… I’m sorry that I didn’t realize you were down today. I should’ve-”

“Mal. Don’t be sorry. Above anything else, don’t be sorry,” he insisted, a strength in his voice that was completely opposite of his true condition. Mal looked over at Evie, but quickly looked away upon seeing her tearstained face and bloodshot eyes.

“I love you guys. If it had to happen earlier today or now or sometime in the next few hours, I’m glad that I knew all of you,” Carlos weakly told them, turning his head to look at Evie and looking down his bed at Jay before finally returning his gaze to Mal.

“You guys were there for me when nobody else was. You helped me,” he turned to look at Evie, “defended me,” he glanced at Jay, “and inspired me,” he looked at Mal. “You three were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you all to know that I am so grateful for all that you’ve done.”

Mal glanced at Jay and saw the glassy sheen to his eyes. She knew Evie was already crying.

They were quiet together for a few moments before Carlos coughed hard, shaking all over. He lay back down after a second, and Mal had to calm herself after the momentary panic that she endured.

“I’m scared,” he rasped, looking at the ceiling. “Where will I go?” he asked, trembling a bit.

“I… I don’t know,” Mal told him, her green eyes searching the side of his face as she attempted to memorize every bit of it.

“But someplace grand, I’m sure,” Evie piped up suddenly, her voice raw with fresh emotion, and Mal was thankful for the save.

“Probably lots of dogs,” Jay suddenly spoke, offering a smile.

“And ice cream. Definitely ice cream,” Mal added. They all, even Carlos, shared a quiet laugh at that.

“You know, with you guys here to help me face it… it doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” Carlos murmured, his eyelids drooping slowly.

“I’m going to miss you, though, when I get there,” he whispered. “It won’t be the same without all of you to enjoy it with me.”

“Yeah… We’re going to miss you, too, bro,” Jay replied, and Mal detected a tightness in his throat that normally wasn’t there as he reached down and gently touched his foot beneath the sheets.

“We love you more than anything, Carlos,” Evie expressed heartfeltly. It was obvious she was about to lose it again.

Dude licked Carlos’ hand that was in Mal’s.

“We’ll see you there one day,” Mal told him, her eyes growing harder and harder to see through the increasing amount of tears.

His eyelids finally fluttered closed, a small smile on his face as he peacefully breathed his last.

And Jay, Evie, and Mal collapsed to tears, because that was their brother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Many years passed since Carlos was buried. Along the painful road of life, Jay and Evie left Mal, too, their lives but a wisp. The three remaining VKs had spent their old age together, marveling at how the world had changed and actually had kept on turning for so many years beyond Carlos’ death.

But eventually, Mal had been left alone to live in the world by herself.

Until one glorious awakening.

Mal opened her eyes, but quickly shut them tightly. The sun was so blinding. She must have forgotten to shut the blinds the previous night.

She eventually squinted, barely opening them as she adjusted to the light. It then occurred to her that she was not lying in her bed, and was instead in the grass.

Mal’s eyes shot wide open as she gawked at the world around her. There were beautiful trees, the sun was shining brightly, and there were… dogs?

In the distance, she spotted a whole pack of dogs, wrestling and playing with one another. They romped through the soft grass and rolled carelessly in the mud near a stream.

After a moment, it became apparent to Mal that she wasn’t feeling any sort of pain in her hand. She had gotten a really bad pain in her hand as of late. She attributed it to many years of overworking her hands and fingers with the pencil.

She looked at her hand and was completely baffled when she saw smooth, soft skin instead of the usual wrinkles and wornness that comes with old age.

Mal glanced up, looking around the place once again. However, her searching gaze immediately halted upon the sight of three certain beings that were approaching her.

It was Jay, Evie, and Carlos. All three of them were as young and healthy as they had been just before Carlos passed away. The threesome helped her up.

Mal hesitantly reached out to Evie, cradling her cheek in her hands. Evie leaned into the touch, looking at her with adoring eyes. Letting go of Evie, Mal then turned to Jay, holding his shoulders in both of her hands. Her face lit up in the biggest grin she had in years. Mal flung her arms around Jay, Evie, and Carlos the best that she could and they all held each other in a tight hug.

After a moment of reveling in the touch of her family, she raised her tear-filled gaze to look at Carlos. He had a wide smile on his face. Oh, how she had missed that smile.

“You were right, Mal.”

23 notes · View notes

thebeethathums · 5 years

Text

Home - 9

Pairing: John Watson x HolmesTwin!Reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts mentioned very vaguely. The reader in this fic is a TWIN to Sherlock Holmes and as such shares some physical features to him. Please read at your own discretion with this in mind.

A/N: Bolded text indicates John’s Blog Posts

You got up early, or rather just got ready early; you’d become a bit of an insomniac, so there was not really any getting up involved. It had been four days since you’d saved John and you had talked to him briefly the day before so he would quit worrying. Such a worrier that man… you could practically feel him doing so through the walls and door.

So you’d put on your best face for him until you were sure he was satisfied and then locked yourself back in Sherlock’s room to think. He’d said maybe you should visit Sherlock’s grave. At first, you’d hated the idea but anything was better than just staring at the ceiling, so here you were- fully dressed yet entirely disheveled, walking up a grassy hill as the sun barely peeked over the horizon. You yawned as you came to your destination, plopping down in front of the stone marker to trace the letters of his name with shaky fingers.

Sherlock froze when he saw you there, quietly crying in front of his empty grave, before ducking behind a nearby tree. He was supposed to meet Mycroft here for his weekly update in a few hours but he’d come early because he was bored and tired of being cooped up. The last person he’d ever expected to see was you. You weren’t even supposed to be in London… when had you gotten back? And why?

He shifted closer so he could get a better look at you, careful to remain hidden even though every fiber of his being told him to go to you. He needed to keep you safe- especially if you were back in London for good. He frowned at your appearance. You looked as much of a mess as you felt, with your short hair sticking out in all directions and your clothes wrinkled and slightly off-kilter, and your face was sullen and haggard from lack of sleep. He wondered how long it had been since you’d slept… how long had you been home to look the way you did.

Wiping the tears from your eyes as you breathed deeply to keep more from escaping, you let out a heavy huff, “John said I should come here. I told him it was an idiotic idea- why should I talk to a slab of stone and a pile of worm food… yet here I am. Like an idiot.”

You rubbed at your temple and sighed, “He’s nice- your friend- and he misses you… I suppose my presence doesn’t really help with that does it? But I like him and he was good for you… perhaps he’ll be good for me too. We are- ...were similar after all.”

It was quiet for a moment and your voice switched to a pained whisper, “I miss you, Sherly. I keep thinking I see you or hear you- I’ve never hated my mind more.”

Sherlock’s chest wrenched and he sank down to sit with his back against the tree as you shifted to sit against his grave marker, leaning your head back on it, “Do you remember our first day of school? The teacher had to phone home because we wouldn’t let go of each other’s hands and the other children thought we were strange... but neither of us cared because we had each other… I suppose we were freaks from the beginning.”

It was true. You’d always been considered freaks but, no matter how much the comments that came later hurt or how many people shunned the two of you, at the end of the day it didn’t matter- he had you and you had him. Who needed friends when you had each other?

He stifled a small chuckle at the memory and you hummed with amusement, “Or what about the time we were playing pirates and you refused to let me be captain? I was so cross with you that I built a working cannon and shot a giant hole through our ship as well as the shed behind it. Mother was so miffed… I can still see her face.”

You laughed weakly, a tear trickling down your face, “You, on the other hand, were beyond proud and named me Pirate Queen- far better than captain you claimed- and we fixed our ship to include the cannon.”

Sherlock smirked and ruffled a hand through his hair, remembering the incident clearly. You had made a fantastic Pirate Queen and after the two of you had fixed the ship you’d worked together to steal Mycroft’s briefcase, forcing him to fence with you to get it back. It was a good memory. He was brought back to the present when you let out the heaviest sigh he’d ever heard from you and he could feel your sadness. He’d always denied that you two had a ‘twin connection,’ as to him that was absurd hogwash, but now he was beginning to think that maybe you did. It would explain the pains in his chest he’d been feeling lately.

Remembering where you were and exactly what you were doing, you rolled your eyes, “This is bloody pointless. You can’t hear me and if you can, then you're probably teasing me for behaving like a drivel-minded idiot. Still…”

Resting your chin on your knees, you took a deep breath, “If you can- I’m sorry. All those things I said before I left were such lies… terrible, awful lies… I need you. I will always need you. I-I shouldn’t have gone…”

Your voice turned angry as you practically yelled up to the sky, “But you were supposed to be here when I got back, you cock. Sure, I left, but it was hardly permanent- there was not a chance in hell I wasn’t coming home. So why did you have to go and leave me forever? I thought we agreed that one-upping each other was a pointless waste of time and energy.”

He clenched his fists in frustration, wanting to tell you everything so badly, and then tilted his head back against the tree when you started to cry, “I don’t know how much more of this I can endure, Sherlock. I hate being alone. It’s awful and horrid and… exhausting. I just want to sleep forever, but for some reason, I can’t sleep at all. I wish I’d died in that bloody desert… a whole lot of nothing and unending darkness has to be better than this. At least maybe then I could get some peace.”

There was a long period of silence after that and he let everything that you’d said sink in- you’d rather be dead than live without him… it made his chest hurt unbearably because he felt the same way. He would have to make sure you didn’t do something drastic before it was safe for him to come back. He got up, thinking you’d gone, but instead found that you’d fallen asleep curled up against his tombstone, your tear-stained cheek resting against your knee. He frowned deeply and texted Mycroft that he needed to get there as soon as humanly possible before sitting down on the grass next to you, certain that as long as he didn’t touch you, you’d stay asleep.

Mycroft uttered a soft curse under his breath when he arrived and saw the two of you sitting there and Sherlock was up in a flash, dragging his brother roughly out of earshot before seething, “Why did you not tell me she had returned?”

“You did not need to know.”

“Didn’t need to know? She’s miserable. I never intended for her to be a part of this.”

“All the more reason for me to keep it from you. There are those who would use her against you. You can’t put her in danger, Sherlock.”

Your twin fell quiet, knowing that Mycroft was right, and then huffed, “Take her home. She can’t sleep here… and tell John to keep a close eye. Her thoughts are muddled.”

Mycroft paled slightly, aware of the implications in his brother’s words, and then nodded stiffly, “I will inform him.”

Fully intending to chew out his brother later, Sherlock strode away before he could do something stupid or his emotions got the better of him and Mycroft stepped over to you, gently running his fingers through the top of your hair as he hummed, “(F/n), dear… This a poor choice of a place to sleep.”

You stirred to blink up at him sleepily, “HmmMy? What are you…”

You fell silent as you realized where you were and he sighed, “Come on. I’ll take you home before John begins to worry.”

He rolled his eyes when you reached your arms up lazily, knowing exactly what you wanted, and bent to pull you to his chest. You wound your arms around your brother’s neck with a small yawn and despite the fact he was slightly annoyed and a little strained over having to carry you, he still gave a small fond smile- the kind he reserved for you and only you. He started on his way back to the car, worrying a little when he realized you were lighter than he’d expected, and you nuzzled into his shoulder, “I missed you, Mymy.”

“And I you, (F/n),” he sighed, slipping into the car with you still in his arms since he knew you weren’t about to let go.

You yawned again and fiddled with his tie before looking up at him, the childlike expression on your face reminding him of when you were younger and you’d crawl into his lap with a book you wanted him to read or just to give him a hug. You’d always been so annoyingly affectionate but he could never bring himself to stop you or push you away. You turned your attention back to his tie and mumbled, “If you aren’t too busy… would you come call on me more often?”

The corner of his lips turned up in a sad smile as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Of course, my dear. Of course.”

An Unexpected Arrival

Will my life ever be normal? Then again… Do I even want it to be normal? The mysterious Mycroft Holmes showed up this morning just as I was frying an egg for breakfast, his arm wrapped around a very exhausted looking (F/n). I didn’t even realize she’d gone out but apparently, he’d found her at Sherlock’s grave- asleep against the marker. I knew she hadn’t been sleeping but I didn’t think it was this bad. She’s asleep on the couch now but it took a while for Mycroft to get her to stop clinging to him in her sleep so he could leave. I’ve never seen him like that. It was like he softened a little despite being totally annoyed. He’s worried about her, as am I after he told me to keep a close eye out for any signs she’s thinking about hurting herself. That was a tad sobering. Even sad, I’ve never seen her as anything but strong and independent but looking at her now, curled up on the couch completely exhausted and so upset, she seems terribly fragile and small. Entirely unlike the woman who saved my life a few days ago.

After her brother left, I got to thinking… maybe this was meant to be. The universe dumped her in my lap because we both needed each other- I needed some of him back in my life and she… she needs me to keep her from being alone in the world. I have try harder to do that and as such, I have removed the door from her room. She’s going to hate it, I know, but if she can’t just revert to shutting herself away, maybe we can get somewhere. If I stop updating send someone to check she hasn’t torn me to bits…

122 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 5 years

Text

The Setting Of A Blue Green Sun - DannyMay Day 5: Sunset

A setting sun, or sunset, is a euphemism for death.

Summary: There were many different timelines for Daniel that ClockWork didn’t care for, but this one was one he needed to watch. And so he did, over and over again. Because the master of time spent so much time alone, and this timeline shows the catastrophic end result of being all alone.

Warning: angst, depression, loneliness, gore, blood, breaking bones, character death, hurt without comfort.

ClockWork sees all the paths life might and might not take, and this is one he feels particularly saddened by. The one where Daniel was alone and always would be. No one was there when he half-died, no one was there to accidentally see him transform, and no one was there to keep him grounded. Sure there was no evil future to be found, whether that was because he was disconnected or because there wasn’t any future at all. ClockWork would fist fight Dan himself over sitting by idle at this once possible reality for his charge.

ClockWork only watches it to remind him that he needs Daniel, more than Daniel needs him. To never ignore his friendship and mentorship to the halfa. So that this master of time will never be alone, because even he needs others company. And who better than a halfa who’s more of an embodiment of the sun and all the stars, than a single person. Grand friends for grander beings, though his Daniel was far too humble to call himself such. But things like them, in truth, needed something similar for a friend. Watching the screen only highlights this so, with how it makes it oh so clear that even this celestial child crumbles and falls, without a friendly face around.

Watching Daniel take hit after hit, limp in form and blank-faced. It’s almost as if no one’s even home, numb.

Watching all the papers label him as the strong and silent type, ClockWork knows it’s not strength; but rather that there’s no one to laugh at his jokes. So why bother telling them.

Just like how there’s no one to fuss over his wounds, so why fix them. How he rarely sees his family, so there was no one to lie to. How he spent so much more time as a ghost and seemed to consider himself nothing more, after all there was no one to remind him that he was human too. ClockWork can’t help but frown at the boys uncared for body, he didn’t have anyone to keep up appearances for. Clearly underweight, with bones jutting where they shouldn’t in clothing rarely washed and torn.

What’s worse is watching him actively push away any attempts to get near him, he doesn’t know that anyone could actually survive the collateral of being his friend or lover; so he doesn’t let anyone be either one.

Then there’s how it affects everyone else, The Red Huntress, so much more cruel and relentless. Having never known Daniels’ kindness or affection. This turned out so catastrophic for little Danielle, she was never saved. And Daniel didn’t even mourn, he just nodded, as if this was the only possible expected outcome for him, and left. He continued his ways with only a deepened frown to show of the loss.

The Fenton parents, though worried, feared pushing their son away even further; the fact that he’d flinch at their every touch or slightly raised voice didn’t help. He behaved like a paranoid animal knowing it was in a slaughterhouse, because to him his house was more of a death trap than a home. And while the skies were taking the place of home to him, his family grew strained. Jasmine, resentful and failing to get her brother to let her in, instead chose to help herself. Leaving for Yale as soon as it was possible for her, what solidified her decision was that it took Daniel three days to even text her. Because he hadn’t even noticed, not at home enough to pick up on the absence.

Then there was Vlad, who’s reaction ClockWork still struggled to understand. Where once he wanted Daniel and actively engaged with him, he now seemed put off and even disturbed by Daniel. Becoming even more aggressive in cloning rather than claiming, Daniel.

The negatives on the ghost zone where far too numeral. Without his wit and carefree nature, he never rubbed off well on other ghosts. In this time, none came to him for advice or friendly sparring. Only to threaten and harm, and they were much more eager to harm.

The halfas two friends where really the only ones to fair well. Though their friendship with Daniel became so thin it was near nonexistent, they were indeed safe and happy. Sometimes they missed their friend but they never faced any hardships. In a sense Daniel was right, anyone close to him would suffer.

With a sigh, ClockWork shakes his head sadly, even he knows that suffering isn’t something to be feared. Better to suffer and gain, than to never know it in the name of fleeting safety. And for every person spared from believed collateral damage, young Daniel was left to absorb the blow; alone.

And that’s exactly what he was doing right now, taking a hit from the ghost kings skeletons. Unlike in nearly every other timeline, he comes unaided. He’s got no suit and the ghosts see no reason to aid him, so he’s left to push through armies alone.

That’s one thing ClockWork will give this timelines Daniel, he’s a lot stronger in battle. He’s more skilled in his powers and physically more capable. But that’s what happens when there’s no one to help take the hits or play doctor. That’s what happens when you don’t have anything but free time to train, because there’s no one to keep you company; to distract you with trivial things.

ClockWork glances and smiles fondly at the chess board, the one that he’s played against his apprentice so many times on, ClockWork always felt lighter afterwards.

Distractions really are a life necessity, else you get obsessed with everything else. ClockWork can see the effect of that in Daniels’ heightened paranoia, in his intense mistrust, and in the blatantly excessive and sleep depriving patrolling. What started as a necessary duty became a compulsively unending routine. Having never been stalled by movie nights or friend drama.

Turning back to the screen, he watches the battered halfa stand to face the king. ClockWork understands the impressed expression Pariah barely hides, Daniel is always so much more powerful than he knows. And even ClockWork can clearly see the power blazing in him through the screen, as if every sun had collided in one body; with the sole purpose of bringing forth the brightest shining being imaginable.

But even still the child’s body twitched with exhaustion, limbs merely hung limp; not caring to put on the show of a fighting stance. It was clear he expected to get hurt, tossed around and thrashed, he just couldn’t bring himself to really care. He’d bare it like always and get up. ClockWork frowns, as he knows that won’t be the case.

He would cringe at the sight of his apprentice's leg getting snapped under the pressure of a column, if he hadn’t long since learned to perpetually school unintentional outward behaviours. Impressively though, as the fight goes on, he still finds himself in mild awe at such undeniable proof that Daniel was the stronger of the two. Even without any power-ups and after slogging through hordes, he beats down the king through sheer determination and might.

But his body is run ragged, and his mind has long since been in that state; as he wails his fist down on the, shocked but resigned, king. Ultimately destroying the king before collapsing to the ground himself, bleeding out his unique red green sunlight glowing blood; across the tiled flooring.

This is another show of just how much power is in such a tiny body, as ClockWork can plainly see the waves of ectoplasmic energy coming off of him, trying to latch on to any latent ectoplasm in the air, to keep its host alive. But unfortunately, this is Pariah’s keep. No ghosts linger here and even the zones energy avoids this place. Leaving nothing for the boy to cling to and feed off of.

ClockWork watches heavily as his young charge, his little apprentice; seems to understand the situation. Muttering into the tiles with a faint chuckle, “oh... well then. I guess... this is a fitting place to just die”. The young boy doesn’t even seem sad, nor happy or even surprised. Like everything else he just accepts it and takes the blow; completely alone.

And ClockWork can tell, from looking into young Daniel’s eyes through the screen. That the sun of light was setting inside him, in no uncertain terms, was this a battered hero’s sunset. The end of a protectors endlessly watching sunlight. As the little saviour, a brutalised blue green sun, finally fell from the skies to rest unseen forever more.

And the night air after his lights fall was nothing but cold, the cold of ice covering everything from a far too powerful and far too ravaged core of ice. Ice that had cracked and shattered too many times to count, that eventually couldn’t contain or support the brightest sun anymore; and had simply exploded outwards.

On all his watch throughs, ClockWork finds he can never not whisper-sing to the screen at this point. To the sight of the shredded hemorrhaging sun that never last long enough to ever met the master of time, partly hoping his soft words were heard:

“Please allow your mind to be pacified

Just rest and your pain will be blown away

Let your worries be placed aside

No one can hurt you now

But know all that you’ve accomplished

Let yourself take a bow

Please calm your heart

Just close your eyes, leave the battlefield behind

Let your heartache break apart

But grant you to know, you never had to fight your battles alone”

ClockWork switches off the screen as the sight of the partially dissolved corpse finally stills its leaking glow of blue green sunlight, though it still paints everything around it in a red and green Collide-a-scope of a half-life barely lived. Of a sun cast down when it should have risen to blaze, the strongest to ever be seen.

ClockWork turns to another image, the one of the most likely future. Not just likely but near certainly. One where he is needed as mentor no more, though he knows he’ll always play the role. As his now, not so small, halfa sits atop his throne. His laughter-filled blue green sunlight eyes looking out across ghosts and humans as well. As comforting blue green blazing sunlight of pure energy and power waves off him, to watch over the lands. Earth and zone alike, for he is both and he is not alone; and ClockWork swears he’ll never let him be.

And in that promise, so too will ClockWork himself never be alone. As his charge, a massive sun contained inside a tiny impossible body, had sworn the same thing. And he always kept his promises.

End.

45 notes · View notes

plasma-paints · 5 years

Text

Okay, Theory Time!

This is going to be really long, so to spare people I’m going to put pretty much all of this under the cut, but it involves time and space and the fact that we might have had this all wrong from the start. Also, probably best if you watch part 4 of Observation first.

Alright, so Sean not so subtly implied that the egos are in fact from different universes. The universes intersecting for a short period of time before separating again would explain why the egos tend to come and go in our timeline. A good example of this in popular media is The Convergence from Thor: Dark World. At minimum two universes, or points in space in the movie, overlap and thus matter/energy can pass between unhindered. Being in the centre of one of these anomalies would technically allow you to be in multiple universes at once. (I like to imagine bubbles mixed with a Venn Diagram for visualization.)

So pretty simple, the universes intertwine, someone passes through, boom their in our reality for a while. Except, these kinds of anomalies are stereotypically spacially specific, so if one were to enter into one and then leave its area of effect, they may not return to their original universe. Essentially, they’d be stuck, albeit temporarily if they can find another anomaly. This is what I imagine has happened to each of the egos.

It can explain away a lot of things:

-Jackieboy-man’s and Marvin’s abilities - Dr. Schneep’s strange medical practises (at least in this universe) -JJ’s inability to speak -Chase being able to stand in for Jack

It could also be used to explain Anti in a similar fashion, just another universe’s version, but I don’t think that’s quite the case. Anti, unlike the rest, is different. That much has been made obvious by the fact that he’s the only seemingly knowledgable one. He seems to understand what’s going on intimately. “Time is broken.” This indicates that the universes aren’t necessarily colliding at the same relative time, let alone space, but the more interesting fact is that he knows that they should be. ‘Broken’ implies that he is aware of a time when time flowed properly, possibly without the universes intersecting at all. A state of order so to speak.

Anti though is the epitome of chaos, so why does he of all the egos know what order looked like? I mean he bounces throughout space and time, bounces around space within dimensions, and doesn’t appear to have a physical form of his own. There’s absolutely nothing orderly about him. So why is he the omnipotent ego? For that exact reason. He’s unstable, unlike the others, he’s unable to remain anywhere outside of an anomaly. For whatever reason, he can’t leave. So he’s been stuck who knows how long, getting glimpses of multiple realities and eventually he must have just put it together. For him, time is the most broken, phasing between universes at an almost imperceivable pace... He, for lack of a better word, glitches.

Now the real question is why? What happened to result in this instability? Why are universes, that for all extensive purposes should remain separated, bouncing around and into each other like billiard balls?

The simplest answer: Someone fucked up, and they fucked up badly.

My thoughts are that it was one of two individuals who caused this cascade failure of the multiverse: Anti... Or Sean. The narrative, as I see it anyway, can only make sense if one of them or both of them is to blame. Why else would Anti continue to appear back in this universe, harassing the egos who also end up in this reality?

Anti makes a lot of sense, as he’s like the focal point of the chaos, the epicentre. He’s the antithesis of order and seems to only want to bring down everyone with him. He makes for a stereotypical evil entity.

The story becomes more interesting if it’s Sean though, that tipped the balance. He wouldn’t even have to know he did it, an everyday action that this version of himself wasn’t supposed to do perhaps...

***Everything under this point is a potential partial timeline/plot theory***

I’m purely speculating now, but possibly that action was making a youtube channel. (I’ll come back to this.)

It would tie a lot of things together actually, and it would finally give Anti a proper motive. He just wants this to be over. “I’m tired of playing pretend, fucking circles!” Who knows how long it’s been for him? How many different attempts he’s made at fixing this, only to fail over, and over, and over? How many plans he’s tried? How many of them we’ve seen? Think about how calmly he said, “Time is broken.” This time around was different from his usual overzealousness. Possibly because it was one of his first attempts at reaching out, asking for help, hoping that somehow, someone else would put together the pieces and end his torment.

It’s odd and fascinating because this entire time we might have been framing him as a villain because of what we witnessed first - the violence, the threats, the manipulation- that we missed the overall message: “Help me.”

If time isn’t flowing the same for him as it is for us, he could have been trapped in this in-between state for countless lifetimes: “I am eternal.” Being torn apart and stitched back together a billion times a second everywhere and nowhere, “always there, always watching.” Frantically he puts in information wherever he can: glitches, video tags, titles, social media, in those brief moments when he occupies our reality once more. He’s figured out that this universe is the problem, we’re the epicentre of a catastrophe beyond the comprehension of everyone but him. He tries, and he tries, and he tries to get someone to notice him. He becomes more knowledgable as time goes on, finds tricks to staying more stable, gathering allies from alternate realities (like those from the overnight watch), manipulating universes so that they intersect at the right places, puppeteering on a cosmic scale.

Nothing ever works perfectly though, so he also becomes increasingly desperate. No one else is putting the pieces together, bringing his nightmare to an end. Suffering endlessly until he finally snaps, coming to a single conclusion. In order for this hell to end, he has to kill the person who started it all: our Sean. Time doesn’t matter to him after all, so all of the attempts we’ve witnessed are his end game. Perhaps he mistakenly took Chase for Sean due to him crossing universes and manipulated him into ending his own life (Chase’s power hour.) Another time he appeared while Sean was dying, and tried to disable the surgeon working on him (Kill Jacksepticeye.) He partially succeeds, and Sean’s in a coma.

Here’s where to channel comes in. If it’s the error that needs to be corrected, it explains why Anti’s so obsessed with us, the community. He may think that maybe that too would be enough, that if the channel dies, it’s the same thing as Sean dying, the mistake ceases to be. Except, even with Sean out of commission, the channel lives on. The other egos, primarily Chase it would seem, taking over to keep things running while Schneep tends to Sean.

None of the Egos stuck in our reality have worked Anti’s situation out, obviously, all they see is another version of themselves actively trying to kill them all and so they band together. Realizing that these other realities’ versions of himself were actively interfering in his plans, he moved on to eliminate them from the equation too. Possibly he thought blackmail would suffice for Chase, so he took his kids. Instead of just sabotaging Schneep’s surgery in kill Jacksepticeye, he moves to try to choke him dead instead. An unending cycle of attempts to rid himself of Sean, of the stupid little thing that has caused him unending pain and infuriation.

Except... It does end. I’ve felt rather adamant that Say Goodbye is not the first major appearance of Anti from his perspective, but the last. Time goes by, Anti grows stronger and picks a time and place to focus on: October 2016. In order to focus himself there, he creates a sort of beacon whenever he happens to glitch through. “You all said my name,” for the first major time in our timeline, a call throughout time and space, “kept me inside.” We gave him a tether to one spot long enough to act out his plan. “This is all your fault! Too long! [You should have] listen[ed] to me!” We never put the pieces together, we took too long, so he had to resort to killing Sean.“You all made this happen! You could have stopped this, but you just watched as this happened!” He’s angry with us because if we had put the pieces together we could have ended his suffering earlier as well as saved Sean. “Now, he’s gone forever.” It’s over, it’s done, Sean’s dead, Anti presumably goes back to whatever reality he was from, and time and space fix themselves. We don’t know this though, because we still have to live out our failure in a paradoxical timeline that once everything is back in balance should cease to exist, no longer serving a purpose. So it’s literally the last chance to, “Say goodbye.” Not just to Sean, nor Anti, but to our universe itself.

But that’s just a theory, a meta-theory. Thanks for reading!

@therealjacksepticeye

#jacksepticeye #therealjacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jse egos #jse theory #mayhem 2.0 #dismay2019 #theory #jacksepticeye egos #multiverse #timelines #space and time and stuff #more pieces kept falling into place

34 notes · View notes