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sirianhewigxiii · 3 years

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Folks, I wasn’t really going to write a full-blown analysis about this entire scene - but it somehow turned into one when I started putting down a minor comment I was planning on making about xD

But I couldn’t help it, especially since I was hoping for something like this and the show delivered something even better...

First there’s Ironwood. He’s down and defeated, both physically and most likely mentally as well. Winter dragged him into the room in handcuffs, the modified version of his weapon on her back and maybe after she had thrown him into the cell she actually even helped him lie down once she had uncuffed him - who knows, either way she had locked him up now. She ended up having to lock him up and place a barrier between them.

So back to the beginning of the scene when we first get back to the cell room after the time stop, Winter is turned towards Ironwood’s cell and she was looking at her scroll and Jaune’s broadcast.

Still what was she doing before that? Was she probably just looking at Ironwood, thinking about how things ended up the way they did?

I don’t think there’s any regret in her whatsoever, but maybe just a little sadness about what he has become, because at least at some point in her life he probably was the father she always wanted for herself - one that was nurturing her and listened to what she had to say.

So, we first see her turned towards Ironwood and a few seconds in the camera swings to the side and we see Jacques to Winter’s left. And so far Winter hasn’t even acknowledged him in the slightest, she was looking at her scroll, most likely Ironwood before that and she wasn’t even looking at him when she brought Ironwood in.

Mind you, Jacques is an asshole who got what’s coming to him, but remember, he has no idea about anything that is happening right now and just for a split-second imagine what it must have been like for him to see Winter coming into the room where the cells are...And not only did she just come into the room - she was dragging in the very man he had once accused of ‘stealing her from him’ at the same time.

And it looks like, in a maybe desperate attempt to get to know about what was going on or maybe just to clutch at any last straw he thought he might have, he must have gotten up and walked to the edge of his cell. Still with how WInter was ignoring him he probably hadn’t dared saying a word up until Jaune’s announcement.

And only then Winter barely looked at him to reply and she even turned around to leave halfway - the strongest reason for that most likely being the fact that she was completely unwilling to talk to him and even what reply she had given him felt constrained as if she was forcing herself to do it.

Still at this point it looks as if she was at least somewhat trying to at least relay what was necessary to him. But here’s where this entire first shot and the positioning come to play.

Not only is there only some large distance between them, but the perspective this is shown from has the corner-projector of the cell’s wall between them and the pillar looks like a thick black line that separates Winter and Jacques. And Jacques is at the edge of the shot and occupying the lesser space of the two.

If we go full symbolic: that thick line that devides them will most likely never disappear and always be there. Jacques has messed up too badly for that to happened. He had ruined Winter’s entire youth and put her through too much shit. Winter was disinherited when she joined the military, if we do some math here it must have been when she was 21.

She entered Atlas Academy at the age of 17, had four years of training there and enlisted once she was done.

We can figure that she must have been already in the military for at least a year or two, since Weiss had been the heiress in her stead for enough time for word to spread around by then. (Blake already knew Weiss in V1), so make her maybe 23 in V3 and since two years have past since the Fall of Beacon she is right now 25 years-old.

So she’s now 25 and for the first 21 years of her life she has suffered through his terror, we have seen some of his behavior through Weiss’ experience, but I can imagine that while Jacques still had a tight grip on Winter, she was the one taking the brunt of his outbursts and punishments on Weiss’ and Whitley’s behalf to protect them for a much longer time by then. Part of Weiss’ and Whitley’s conversation when we first met Whitley in V4 also suggests that the two younger siblings were mostly together most of the time until Weiss first became the second heiress and later on left for Beacon.

Coming back to Winter that means that for the majority of her life Jacques was keeping her completely isolated, probably even from her siblings - Winter’s room was close enough for Willow to figure out how the Hound was closing in on Whitley in Jacques’ office, when Weiss had to walk quite a distance from her room to the office in V4 and we’ve seen Whitley had been dropping by Weiss’ room often enough in V4 to maybe suggest that his room isn’t too far from Weiss’.

Winter left Schnee Manor for the military completely on her own, never having had a team at the Academy that we know of, never having had any friends she spoke of or rather having been denied all of those thing from, guess who Jacques who was most likely keeping tabs on everything she did at Atlas Academy.

The first and only friend she had probably made only after freeing herself must have most likely been Penny. Penny who of her own had a special peculiar situation that set her apart from others.

And Weiss who had most likely noticed how Jacques was trying to keep in control of Winter even at the Academy, therefore left for Beacon, while officially coming up with some other excuse he wasn’t smart enough to see through.

And while a 17-year-old Weiss, who had been the heiress since she was probably 15 only, had the chance to more freely meet people, make friends and properly heal. Winter didn’t.

Or rather she might have healed to some extend and moved forward with her life, but she has huge scars that will always remain and never disappear and so she will never forgive Jacques for what she has been through because of him.

Still when Jacques tries to reach out in desperation and gets zapped by the barrier, Winter slowly stops and actually gives him an answer to his question, even though she still doesn’t even look at him.

So why did she still talk to him? Why did she go out of her way to tell him that they were going to come back for him (and Ironwood) once they were done saving everybody else? Because of Weiss.

It’s only for a second but we clearly get to see Winter’s pain when Jacques thanks her and whatever he was trying to say afterwards to weasel himself into her good graces gets immediately shut down, when Winter turns around, directly looks at him for the first time and shuts him down with the truth.

She only looks at him because the one thing she wants him to actually understand is that she wasn’t the one saving him. She makes sure that he clearly knows that she had nothing to do with it and that it was Weiss’ decision to save his sorry ass. If it was up to her, Winter would just simply leave him to rot here and it was only at her younger sister’s request that she didn’t.

And after that Jacques knows it too. You can visibly see him simply shutting down right after and the moment he realizes it.

For the first time he might have actually become aware of how much irreparabel damage he had done to his first child (or all of his children in general).

This wasn’t what he kept thinking of as Winter just running away and being unruly or Winter having been taken away from him by Ironwood. Jacques finally realized that Winter actually truly left because of him. Because he was fucking up.

And he realized that his life means nothing to her.

Actually absolutely nothing.

#rwby8 #rwby winter schnee #winter schnee #rwby8 winter #rwby8 winter schnee #rwby jacques schnee #jacques schnee #james ironwood #rwby james ironwood #general james ironwood #rwby james #rwby ironwood #rwby general ironwood #rwby8 ironwood #rwby8 james ironwood #rwby jacques #rwby

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thebmatt · 3 years

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FFXIV Write Day 2

Aberrant - departing from an accepted standard OR diverging from the normal type.

CONTENT WARNING: asshole parents denigrating their child with sexually charged language

"Master? A letter arrived for you."

Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn looked up from the stack of documents with an irritated expression at the servant who'd interrupted him, a hyuran male of fair skin and hair. "Well, boy? Who is it from then? Twelve save you if this isn't worth interrupting my very important work!"

The man went even paler. "I....I don't know, master. The envelope was not signed. The post markings indicate that it originated in Eorzea, but otherwise the only marking is that of a small green axe. I don't know..."

Ahldblaet's eyes, normally perpetually narrowed due to being deep set in his face, widened in shock. "Give that here!" he shouted. "And be gone with you!"

The servant scurried over to Ahldblaet's massive desk and practically dropped the envelope on the nearest corner before fleeing with all haste, as though for his life. Ahldblaet immediately snatched it from the stack of parchment it had fallen on and inspected the markings that the servant had mentioned.

"Husband?" a voice called from the side door that led from his office further into the home. Said door opened and a shorter Roegadyn woman stepped through, her ash-colored skin in marked contrast to the sea-blue dress she wore. Her dark grey hair framed a face that wore an annoyed expression. "What is all this bellowing about? You are disturbing my guests. It is...unseemly."

Ahldblaet turned his severe gaze upon the new entrant. He was tall and exceptionally broad, a picture of strength in his youth, but his body had taken on a measure of fat in his older age and more sedentary work. Despite this, and his balding head of hair, his steely eyed expression still cowed many of the people he dealt with on a day to day basis. "It would seem, wife, that the enormous investment we have paid into those mercenaries we dispatched to Eorzea may have finally borne fruit. This is a missive their leader sent me. After our last communication I told him, in no uncertain terms, not to contact me until he had something of note to report. Unless he has foolishly ignored my orders, this would mean he has something."

The woman was not cowed, having long becoming immune to her husband's glares. Impatiently she gestured to the envelope. "Well, open it then, you great oaf! Maybe we will finally learn where our daughter vanished to!"

Ahldblaet tore the envelope and removed the missive inside. He began to read aloud, knowing from prior experience if he did not, his wife would snatch the paper from his hands mid-sentence. She was not a patient one.

"Masters Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn and Lady Usynwyda Holaszirnwyn,

I am please to report that after much time and hard work on the part of the Emerald Marauders, we have located your wayward daughter. Furthermore, we have determined the reasoning as to why she evaded both us and every previous mercenary company your lordship sent to retrieve her

First, your daughter is no longer using her given name of Syhrwyda Ahldblaetwyn. Asking after that name yielded no results, aside from the merchants who recognized it only as pertaining to you. By sheer luck, we eventually stumbled across a Roegadyn language scholar who knew the translation of her first name and directed us to an adventurer known as 'Fearless Willow', one of the Warriors of Light.

I am hoping the story of the Warriors of Light does not require an explanation for your lordship, but I will remind you that these people are slayers of godlike beings who regularly enslave the minds of mortals around them, have engaged massive numbers of Garlean soldiers and magitek armor, defeated Imperial Legatuses in single combat (including the Crown Prince), and decisively ended a thousand-year war between a dragon horde and the nation of Ishgard.

From there, we set out to determine if this woman and your daughter are one and the same. It is well known that one of the Warriors of Light is in fact a Roegadyn woman, but we needed to be certain. Adventurers are often well traveled and thanks to the Aetheryte network, difficult to track. Your descriptions were also primarily of the physical sort, which did not help, as appearances are easy enough to change.

We caught a break in speaking to one of the mercenary crews you'd previously hired. Many of them had been either entirely wiped or or reduced in numbers to the degree that they'd disbanded. What few remained refused to speak with us once it became clear who we were tracking. One particular mercenary of an Ala Mhigan band (known as the Graybear Den, which if you recall abruptly returned your payment and refused the contract) however, let slip some valuable information after our agents plied him with enough drink. Once he realized who we were speaking of, he grew agitated and swore he would never help us find 'the Warrior o' Light". It would seem the Graybears believe they owed a measure of loyalty to the Warriors of LIght for their instrumental parts in liberating their homeland.

It was, however, enough. Once we determined that your daughter and this Warrior of Light were in fact one and the same, we began looking for ways to isolate her and take her prisoner. Unfortunately this has proven extremely difficult. As they are involved in affairs that affect the entirety of the star, the Warriors of Light are often on the move, moreso than normal adventurers. Furthermore, as I have mentioned, they are peerless warriors, often in each other's company or those of their fellow Scions of the Seventh Dawn. If you don't know the order, suffice to say they are Warriors and Scholars both who labor on behalf of all peoples to defend the world against tyranny and false gods. They are exceptionally successful in this regard. The Scions often meet and collaborate with the leaders of various powers on this continent, who are often accompanied by their own soldiers or bodyguards.

We have remained patient however, and managed to catch a glimpse of her. As I mentioned was likely, she has extensively changed her appearance. Her hair is now of a longer cut and nearly all black, with only highlights of the teal you had mentioned remaining. She has also taken to wearing dark makeup.

We have also determined that unlike her fellow Warriors of Light, she does not dwell in the Scion's headquarters. Instead, she has taken to living in the Hingashi port city of Kugane, where she has a modest home in the district of the city reserved for foreigners.

Finally, and you may wish to brace her ladyship for this part, she does not live there alone. Our spies have reported that her home is occupied by two other women, and their observations of them interacting within the city indicates that the three of them are lovers

We believe that this is our best shot at capturing her, but the price for her return to you has just doubled.

You are doubtless shaking with rage, but you hired us to retrieve a woman that you led us to believe would provide minimal resistance. Even isolated from the other Scions in Kugane, we believe we will face extreme resistance in this job. For starters, your daughter has mastered several forms of combat, including the ways of the Hingashi samurai, the axe-masters of Abalathia's Spine, and the art of thaumaturgy. She is also known to wield the Sharlayan art of Astrology, and has mastered a form of dance from Radz-at-Han that wields circular blades with deadly precision.

Furthermore, Fearless Willow is a known and loved name within the borders of Kugane, despite being a foreigner in a city that remains neutral to all concerns beyond their borders. She was instrumental in aiding their geomancers in repelling an attack from a fox-like beast known as 'Kinko' and she also trained alongside the Sekiseigumi (the samurai order that enforces the laws of the city, brutally so) and helped them put down a rebellion from within their own ranks. One of her lovers is a high ranking member of the Sekiseigumi. The other is a member of her dance troupe who is on an extended tour in the city. She is every bit as deadly in the art as Fearless is.

The point is that, even isolated from the other Scions, many people will rush to her aid. We expect heavy resistance and significant losses. The original reward will not suffice to cover this.

We will not move forward with this operation until we have your confirmation of acceptance of the new price. And we suggest you hurry, as events brewing suggest your daughter will soon be called back to the fight, at which point it is impossible to tell when we will have another opportunity

Cmdr Guji Pokiji Chief Executive, Emerald Marauders

Ahldblaet set the letter on his desk, shaking with rage as he looked to his wife."How DARE that miniscule INSECT think to extort us?? A Warrior of Light, indeed. As if our useless fool of a daughter has the brains to take on even one sort of combat discipline, much less five! How gullible does he THINK us to be?"

Usynwyda nodded, a disgusted sneer on her face. "The NERVE of her, to merely toss aside the name we chose for her, only to refer to herself in the....ugh...common tongue! Still, the name cannot be a coincidence. Whatever other lies that little gnat undoubtedly told, this is the best lead we have had on Syhrwyda since she ran away."

"It is. And if they are not all lies, then it is all the more imperative we retrieve her before word of any of this gets out among our enemies. The very idea that she would toss aside the husband we painstakingly chose for her after careful selection and delicate negotiation in favor of laying with another woman, much less two! I worried she would do stupid things, but this level of degeneracy, of abberance? It is unconscionable!"

Usynwyda shuddered. "We cannot let this get out. I can never face any of the ladies if they should learn my daughter has become no better than some...common whore. We must marry her off to the Greinmyrgan boy with all haste before she does any further damage to us, to the company."

Ahldblaet scribbled furiously. "I am already writing orders to have our ship made ready and for our elite guards to prepare for a journey. We will find her and we end this nonsense."

Far away, in Kugane, the Warrior of Light known as Fearless Willow shuddered as she prepared to fall asleep. She had no ping from the Echo, no signal from her finely honed danger sense to explain it, but she definitely felt as if trouble was heading her way, and no idea what it might be.

#FFXIV 2021 Writing Challenge #Final Fantasy XIV #Fearless Willow #God her parents are the worst #Hopefully I get to write about Rheika's mom at some point so I can have some good parent balance

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willcwthewisp · 3 years

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spirited away | eddie & willow

TIMING: before mother’s day. LOCATION: willow’s apartment. PARTIES: @specterchasing and @willcwthewisp. SUMMARY: eddie goes on a medium-driven chore, but gets medium uno reversed. also the spiderman meme except it’s mediums.

Willow sighed as she lowered her paint brush, feeling that familiar nagging sensation tingling in her neck that came whenever a portrait wasn’t quite right. It looked fine— lovely, even. But there was simply something amiss that the ghost in question hadn’t approved of, and she’d lost the snippets he was saying to her quite some time ago, as if his words had flitted out her open wind on the breeze. Oh well. The piece would be a nice one to sell, and there still might be a person who recognized what it was that she’d painted. There’d been quite a few instances of people coming forward, asking questions about certain pieces she’d done that looked far too similar to their memories of loved ones, or scenes of their youth. That was generally when she passed the painting off to her brother, a medium and exorcist who was much better equipped to deal with the ghost of the painting, and the loved one that came along with it.

It almost came as a relief when she heard a knock at her door. Almost. Rising from her place at the easel in her art room, she peered through the peephole of the door only to be met with the face of someone she’d never seen before. “Ah- sorry, can I help you?” she began nervously, already thinking of the disaster that could strike if she ended up having to open the door. She didn’t have any interest in causing a hospital visit today. Or any day for that matter. Maybe she should request to be moved to the first floor of her complex. Then it’d be a little less worrisome when it came to potentially throwing people across the hallway.

Eddie had some reservations about showing up to a stranger’s house unannounced, but they were outweighed by curiosity and a sense of duty. The ghosts made Willow out to be someone like him. In all of Eddie’s years in White Crest, he’d never had the opportunity to meet someone else who could interact with the dead. Admittedly, it seemed like she had a knack for ignoring them and that didn’t sit well with him, but he tried to reserve judgement until there was proof beyond the claims of a few disgruntled apparitions.

“Yeah, so, hey,” he said, eyes locked onto the peephole. It struck him as odd that she didn’t open the door, but they lived in White Crest, after all. Being careful saved lives. “I know you don’t know me and this is probably wicked weird for you, but I’ve got a message from a, uh, mutual friend that they’d really like you to hear. It’s a little private, so I’d feel a little more comfortable giving it to you in… well, private. You wanna open the door for me?” He thought about reassuring her that he wasn’t some kind of bloodlust-y murderer, but realized that would only make him seem more dangerous.

Willow’s fingers tapped nervously against the door, still looking through the peephole and reminding herself that this man couldn’t see her in return despite the eye contact he made. “A mutual friend?” she echoed, the phrase throwing her. She’d purposefully distanced herself from the bulk of her friends ever since this whole sporadically throwing people problem had come to her attention, and she hadn’t had all that many to begin with. It was a choice of her own, never having been someone to seek out the company of too many people. Willow had been more than happy with that before her telekinesis had made any company dangerous. Now she relied on the people she called at her telemarketing gig to remind herself she was alive. It wasn’t all that helpful when they were yelling half the time.

The ability to say ‘no’ was another of her shortcomings, and Willow walked a few paces back and forth as the man asked to be let in. Going back to the door, she glanced at him once more through the peephole. “I...okay- alright. But just- don’t come too close, okay?” If she could keep a table between him and her, things should be alright. Without further delay, she was opening the door to reveal the interior of her apartment, already taking a few careful steps away from the man.

When Eddie’s question was met with a few long moments of silence, he half-expected his venture to be rendered fruitless. He couldn’t find it in himself to blame Willow for not trusting him, but he did wonder where her sense of adventure was. If a stranger came knocking on his door with the promise of a vague message, they wouldn’t have been able to finish their sentence before he welcomed them in.

Just as he turned away from the door, she finally spoke up. A warning. “No problems there, I’m a big fan of boundaries,” he enthused as the door opened. Willow seemed even more skittish than the average White Crestian as she put ample space between them. Eddie decided not to let it bother him—she likely had her reasons.

“Okay, so, the friend in question is a little on the dead side,” he explained carefully as he stepped into the apartment. “Actually, there’s a few dead friends. Is that… like, is that unusual for you, having dead friends?” As accustomed as he was to having conversations with ghosts, he knew that wasn’t exactly normal. His parents made that perfectly clear to him. If Willow wasn’t as much like him as he hoped she was, he needed to ease her into the subject matter.

“Great- good, that’s good,” Willow babbled nervously as she did exactly as she’d planned, skirting around to the other side of the table that was in her kitchen while Eddie spoke. But the mention of dead friends was more than enough to catch her interest, and in a reflexive move she looked over to the chair that Kal often loved to frequent. He was the ghost she heard most reliably, and currently her best friend seeing as she’d banned herself to as much isolation as possible. Unfortunately she wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he was here at the moment, her focus pulled away from any attempts to perceive him by the stranger in her apartment.

Thankfully, Kal had no problem speaking for himself. The ghost had already taken up a spot at Willow’s shoulder the moment Eddie had stepped into the apartment, feeling rather protective after the last stranger to enter Willow’s abode had left her tired and crying. “What do you want?” the ghost asked the man reflexively, not actually expecting an answer from one of the living. That was- until he recognized the familiar aura of what Eddie was. “Oh shit- you’re a medium, too?”

Willow, still blissfully unaware of the guardian ghost asking questions on her behalf, was doing her best to play it close to the chest. She wasn’t entirely all that private about mediums and their abilities, but it wasn’t exactly the best idea to lead with ‘occasionally I see and hear dead people.’ “Um- do you have dead friends?” she asked, unable to come up with any better reply while being entirely oblivious of that fact that Kal had already given her away.

Willow’s babbling and general nervousness faded into the background the moment Eddie laid eyes on Kal. “I am!” he announced, eyes glistening with pride before finally prying them away to look at Willow. “Looks like we both do,” he said with a wide grin. Hope had taken hold of him before he reached Willow’s apartment, and now he knew it wasn’t in vain. Finally, he knew someone like him; someone he wouldn’t have to hide from, not that he usually did such a good job with keeping secrets. Eddie didn’t know how to be anything except himself, but he thought it might be nice to have someone in his life who didn’t look at him like he was speaking in tongues when he talked about the dead.

“You don’t have to hide anything from me, I’m just like you,” he told Willow. He thought it was a little strange that she apparently hadn’t heard the ghost out her, but maybe she was just playing it cool until she knew she could trust him. “Okay, maybe not just like you, but we’ve got a pretty cool common denominator.”

Eddie took a moment to center himself. Amidst the excitement, he nearly forgot what he came here for. He looked back to Kal. “I’m just here to talk to her about her paintings, nothing weird, I promise.” Again, his eyes switched their focus to Willow. “See, some of our dead friends aren’t exactly happy with how they’re being portrayed, and they’ve been very adamant that I bring the issue up to you.”

Willow almost jumped at the stranger’s exuberance, momentarily confused while he replied to Kal. She still couldn’t hear the ghost, her mind moving far too fast at the moment for it to slow down enough to listen to her ‘dead friend.’ “Like me?” she repeated the words skeptically until he began speaking to Kal once again. “So you’re a medium?” Kal put his hands up as if trying to stop Eddie’s words before he could get them out...to little avail. “Hold on- don’t say that!” Willow’s paintings were one of the few, free joys the woman had left in the world, and he wasn’t too keen on seeing whatever reaction she might have in response to the other medium’s claims.

But the words had been said, and Willow’s lips had already turned downwards into the beginning of a frown, looking towards the door of her art room and then back to Eddie. “They don’t like them?” Did they want her to stop? She’d always loved painting the stories she heard from the ghosts, even if some of them were sadder than the rest. Those were the paintings she also gave to her brother, the ones that had such miserable stories attached to them. Surely all ghosts deserved to move on if that’s what they wanted, but the ones that could only focus on their pain...that could only give Willow the traumatic stories of their demise, those were the ones that needed it the most. “I mean...I know my pictures aren’t perfect to what they remember but…” she trailed off with uncertainty, not entirely sure where that sentence had been going.

Kal’s warning went unfortunately unheeded, and Eddie only realized its importance once he saw the frown on Willow’s face. Her second question dampened his initial excitement. He didn’t know how important her paintings were to her, but it already sounded like he wounded her pride. So much for making friends.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” he quickly backtracked. “I’m sure they really appreciate the time and effort you put into memorializing them—I know I would.” Eddie spent more time than he cared to admit wondering about his own demise and what would follow it; how he’d be remembered. If someone cared enough to put his final moments on canvas, he couldn’t imagine being anything other than grateful. “Really, they just have a few minor critiques. You know ghosts, they can be a little picky.” He shot Kal an apologetic glance. “I know how hard it can be to feel the pressure of someone’s last wishes on your shoulders, it makes you really wanna do right by them, but there’s no way to do it perfectly every time, y’know? And only a few have come to me, so I bet you’re actually doing a really great job overall.”

The stranger was sure of the dead’s gratitude because the ghosts had said as much to him? Or was it because he assumed such a thing? “Did they...tell you that?” Willow asked tentatively, hoping that the answer might be yes. She didn’t paint solely for the ghosts, but it’d be nice to know that they got some enjoyment out of it as well. She’d always thought they liked having their stories listened to, being given a moment to relay something important of their life and seeing it painted before their very eyes. Still standing behind Willow was Kal, nodding his head emphatically as if he could provide the answer for Eddie, or at least signal the other man into giving a good one.

The mention of ghosts being less than fond of her paintings was awkward enough, but now came the part where Willow had to tell this man that she actually wasn’t all that familiar with working for the dead, at least not in the way most mediums were. She wasn’t as self-conscious about her lack of abilities when it came to her family, having accepted long ago that she was different, and actually being somewhat grateful for the fact that she’d gotten to live a life of her own rather than one ruled by the departed. But when such an admission was being made to another medium that wasn’t related to her...well, it was nerve wracking to say the least. “Ah- well- about that. I don’t actually see and hear them all that well. Just sometimes. Not like the rest of my family or most mediums or whatever.” The last of his words had another semi-hopeful spark entering her eyes. “Really? You think so? Do you know which paintings the ones that have come to you are upset about?”

Seeing Kal’s emphatic nodding convinced Eddie to mirror the action. “Yeah, of course,” he said. In truth, they were usually more concerned with their grievances than what they enjoyed about Willow’s work, but Eddie felt like her spirit had been crushed enough for one evening. If she needed to hear a white lie to keep her self-esteem from folding in on itself, he would more than happily oblige.

“Oh,” Eddie uttered upon hearing her confession, more interested in learning that her family shared her gift than anything else. He wondered what that must be like—to be surrounded by people that understood you. Mild jealousy flared in his gut. He thought he’d met someone like him, but instead it seemed to inhabit two completely different worlds. “At least you have people in your life who can help translate,” he offered, smiling sadly in spite of himself.

Willow’s follow-up question pulled him out of his self-pity. “Yeah, one sec.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and opened the notes app. “George, the guy who died in a house fire, he said his eyes weren’t that close together. Shelly, the elderly woman who died of natural causes, says that you got her bedroom all wrong—she can’t stand your choice of wallpaper. And, um, Andrea, killed by some kind of demonic moose, would like it if you painted her with a little more dignity. She swears she didn’t go out screaming.” Eddie looked up from his phone to see how much damage their criticism had done. “See? Not so bad, just… little things.”

“Really?” Willow asked again, rather smitten with the thought that the ghosts might like her work. Sure, the person she painted most for was herself but...it was still nice to hear that people had enjoyed your work— especially when they were the inspiration. “Well then...I’m glad they like it.” The very beginnings of a smile had taken to the corners of Willow’s lips, looking the most relaxed she had since this conversation began.

But that smile quickly turned to concern as Eddie spoke. He didn’t have anyone with him? How had he learned about the world of ghosts in the first place? “You parents...they can’t sense ghosts?” Willow supposed the ability didn’t have to run in families, but she was rather biased when she’d been raised in a family full of spirit-sensing humans. “Well you know- if you ever needed someone to help you translate I’m sure anyone in my family would be happy to. Especially my mom or brother.” It’d been some ten minutes of knowing the man after he’d shown up unaccounted at her door, and she was already offering him access to her family. This was probably what some of her more cynical friends were talking about when they said her kindness would get her hurt.

Willow listened carefully to his requests, trying to memorize them all before she realized she’d most likely forget. “Do you think you could send the list to me? I could give you my number.” Then he’d also have it if he had any ghost questions, and was too nervous to ask how to contact her in the future. Going over what she remembered from his list, her lips pursed ever so slightly as she thought of the paintings in question. She couldn’t be sure, but this seemed more like an issue of vanity rather than her skill. Except for the wallpaper one. She often filled in the lesser details of paintings that ghosts didn’t bother to outline with her own artistic license. “Yeah- not too big.” Now that it was clear it was more the ghost’s problem than her’s, she was somewhere closer to being set at ease.

At the sight of Willow’s sort-of-smile, Eddie grinned from ear-to-ear. It felt like he managed to do something right. “Yeah, me too,” he enthused. He didn’t know Willow well, or at all really, but he already had a sense she might need the validation. Eddie couldn’t blame her, he had a lot in common with Tinker Bell, himself. When the applause stopped, so did his heart. Considering that, he realized he might have been projecting, but doing so in this instance seemed harmless enough.

The smile dropped as quickly as it disappeared, giving Eddie a taste of emotional whiplash. Willow seemed concerned about him, he didn’t intend for that, but her offer struck him right in the heart. “I don’t really wanna bother anyone,” he said politely while every fiber of his being revolted against his ill-timed manners. “But, I mean, if they… if they would be happy to help, like you said, it’d probably be better for everyone if I took you up on that, right? Who wants an uneducated medium running around solo?” He shrugged while his heart beat wildly in his chest. Finally, people who would understand him. Eddie’s throat tightened as he considered the possibilities.

“Oh, yeah, no problem!” Eddie brandished phone and closed the distance between Willow and himself with little regard for how intentionally she’d cultivated it. “Here you go,” he said amicably as he offered the device to her.

Oh! The younger man looked very nice when he smiled, like he didn’t have a single intention to hurt anyone that lived in this world. The change in his demeanor had her mirroring it instinctually, and her own smile grew bigger— as if they were stuck in a feedback loop of grins. While he began to speak of being a bother, Willow’s head was already shaking in a fierce denial of the concept, not willing to let him disparage himself in her presence. “You’re not! I’m the one who offered, anyway! And I mean- it’s always nice to have more ghost friends, isn’t it?” Friends were the last thing she needed while she was a literal flight risk in the sense of sending those around her sailing via telekinesis. But she couldn’t just let him fumble in this strange world by himself. “Perfect, then! I could put you into contact with my brother first! He’s the most involved with all the spiritual stuff- he’s actually an exorcist in addition to his mediumship.” If this young man latched onto her brother, Forest, there was also less risk of him coming around Willow to get hurt.

Gingerly accepting his phone while being careful to avoid any contact, Willow tapped her number into the contacts, adding her name to the entry. Oh, right- she hadn’t actually introduced herself quite yet. “I’m Willow, by the way. Willow Finch.” She made no inclination to offer a hand for shaking, still avoiding physical contact at all costs.

The moment Willow uttered the words ‘ghost friends’, Eddie felt a rush of unexpected affection. His entire life, most people either completely denied the existence of ghosts or spoke poorly of them. For a moment, Eddie struggled to find the right words to say, an unheard of predicament for him. “Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “It’s just—you ever hear something that sounds too good to be true? I’m waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me.” Not only did her family have mediums, it had exorcists. He wondered if she knew how lucky she was.

Eddie watched as she entered her phone number, half-expecting it to begin with 555. “Oh, right, I kinda did walk into your home without telling you who I am, didn’t I?” It wouldn’t be the first time he disregarded common courtesy and overstepped boundaries, and it likely wouldn’t be the last either. “The ghosts told me your name, but I’m Eddie, Eddie Carridine. It’s awesome to meet you, Willow Finch.”

Willow’s heart already ached for him, recognizing a loneliness in his words that she knew intimately these days. Perhaps their situations of isolation were from different patterns, but they’d been cut from the same cloth. The feeling of being alone wasn’t kind in the least, no matter where it stemmed from. Not for the first time she wished she could lend someone physical comfort in addition to emotional solace, the desire to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder growing stronger the longer he stood in front of her. “Of course. The world can be disappointing in the worst ways,” she began softly while forcing herself to stay where she was. “But I also know me and my family. And I bet you’ll be begging to get rid of us before they’d even think about leaving you alone. It’s just not in our blood.” After all, wasn’t that one of the tenants of being a medium? Ensuring that not even the dead were left behind, let alone one of their own. Where that was potentially comforting to Eddie, it was less than ideal for Willow— constantly having to make her own space when it came to the people that loved and raised her for fear of hurting them.

“You were just trying to help,” Willow began with a chuckle, the only reservations left in her being based around keeping Eddie out of arms-length. And so far he’d respected that. “And the dead...they have a lot less people helping them than the living- so I’m glad you did.” Her smile was softer this time, still settling into who she was while she was less concerned about a stranger being in her home. “It’s awesome to meet you too, Eddie.”

Kal elected this as good a time as ever to re-enter the conversation, some of his wariness stirpped away as the conversation proceeded. Besides— he was naturally inclined to like any medium he came across. “She means it- you know. About not leaving people alone. She can’t see me half the time, but she still talks to me. Even if she’s not even sure I’m here. She’d do the same for you.” It was why he’d become so attached to Willow in the first place, unable to deny the heart she had for caring.

Eddie smiled sadly when Willow mentioned disappointment. The world let him down a few times, but he placed the blame on himself more often than not. He made eye contact with his biggest disappointment every time he looked in the mirror. Willow swiftly pulled his mood out of the gutters of self-deprecation when she told him he wouldn’t be left alone, not by her family. A lump formed in his throat, forcing Eddie to convince himself not express such intense emotions around someone he met minutes ago. “Where’ve you guys been my whole life?” he asked, making an attempt at levity. Nothing she said felt real, but Eddie had a penchant for far-fetched beliefs.

“Yeah, you actually get it,” he said, nodding as he did. It made sense for a fellow medium to empathize with ghosts, but that didn’t make it any less surreal. “I’m glad I did too, otherwise we might not have ever met. That would’ve been a pretty big loss, I think.” He didn’t want to sound too certain, he knew how intense he could be.

Kal captured his attention next, confirming what Willow said. The lump in Eddie’s throat quivered, forcing him to clear it. “You guys make quite the duo,” he observed. “I, um, appreciate it—everything, I mean.” His gaze turned back to Willow. “You didn’t have to be so kind, most people wouldn’t. So, I… yeah, I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.”

Willow could tell he was on the verge of spilling over, she recognized it well when she’d seen it so often in herself. A gentle shrug tugged at her shoulders in response to his question, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood, but unable to perfectly match the nonchalance. “Just sitting here waiting, I guess. I think you’re actually running a bit late.” Another bell-like laugh trickled from her lips, not wanting to come on too strongly despite the kindness in her words. But she recognized a lost soul when she saw one, even if she’d seen less wandering spirits than most mediums had.

She got it. Maybe not quite as much as someone with fully realized abilities, but she’d seen enough of it through her sister and brother, and parents as well. For a moment Willow was also overcome by emotion, her throat tightening as Eddie landed his compliments. How long had it been since she’d had such a tender moment in person? How long had it been since she’d made actual eye contact with someone for this extended amount of time? “I think I’m the one who would have been missing out,” she answered with the corners of her eyes crinkling in a welcoming happiness. She didn’t mind his intensity, oftentimes having a penchant for it herself when it came to the delicate side of life.

Willow was silent a moment while she assumed Kal was talking to Eddie, reckoning the way his gaze flitted to the ghost over her shoulder. She’d seen it in the eyes of her family more than enough times. “Kal’s been here with me when...I haven’t been able to see much of anyone else. He does just as much for me as I do for him.” Possibly even more. “The way I see it- kindness is free, isn’t it?” Another shrug claimed her, and for a moment she thought she could almost feel Kal’s hand as he laid it onto her shoulder. “I’m just glad I can give it. You just focus on being kind to yourself, and we’ll call it even, yeah?”

Fresh tears stung Eddie’s eyes. He immediately blinked them away, trying his best to save face. Showing his emotions rarely sat well with him, but he felt safe here even though he only just arrived. “Sorry,” he offered yet another apology as a second wave of tears formed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, this is probably so awkward.” He wondered what Willow thought of him crying at the first sign of kindness. Eddie pulled the hem of his jacket’s sleeve into his palm and wiped away the evidence of his emotional outpouring. “I promise, I don’t usually do this in front of people I’ve just met… or anyone, actually.” He let out an empty huff of laughter, suddenly unable to make eye contact.

The blows kept coming as Willow turned the compliment around on him. “Yeah, well, we’ll see,” he countered. “Get back to me when you’ve known me for a few hours.” Eddie felt pathetic and happy at the same time; exposed and protected. It didn’t make sense, emotions weren’t supposed to contradict each other so harshly, not in his experience.

Eddie watched as Kal’s hand rested on Willow’s shoulder. He said she couldn’t see him half the time, but Eddie liked to think he could recognize love when saw it. An irresistible urge came over him and, before better judgement could kick in, his arms wrapped around Willow.

Willow was a sympathy crier. There was no way around it, and her own eyes were beginning to well as she watched Eddie’s fill with tears, though her’s were born of the happiness that came from witnessing the weight fall from the other medium’s shoulders. Her heart ached for him, recognizing just how desperate he must be to break down so easily when faced with the bare minimum in terms of showings of kindness. Her own clumsy laugh danced with Eddie’s while she gave him whatever time he needed to recollect himself. She’d already decided she was going to ask him to stay for some juice and cookies. Or maybe wine and cookies? He looked fairly young, just at the cusp of drinking age. Someone so young should never have been as alone as he seemed, and her soul began to hurt all over again.

All that turned to panic in the very blink of an eye as Eddie reached for a hug, and Willow’s hands were thrown out in front of her while she yelled frantically, “No! Don’t!” But it was too late, and as the young man came into contact with her hands she felt the telekinesis flash along with her flaring emotions. In another blink, he was pulsed back from her with a thrust far too powerful for the force to have come from her hands alone. “Oh god- oh god,” she gasped as she ran to his landing place on the couch. He’d fallen on something soft, but she wouldn’t feel relief until she knew he was alright. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Oh no- oh god I’m so sorry.” This time her tears were ones of dread and hopelessness. She should have known. Should have known things were going far too well, and that danger was lurking around the corner.

Eddie pushed the envelope often, it didn’t always end well, but he could honestly say that being telekinetically launched across the room was a first. He hit the couch with a thud, feeling like the air in his lungs had been knocked out of him. Before he could manage to sit up, Willow appeared next to him spewing apologies and concern. Eddie looked up at her, recognizing that she never meant to hurt him, and couldn’t help laughing. His lungs hurt, but he preferred the pain over crying. Propping himself up on his elbows, Eddie shook his head. “Hey, accidents happen,” he said with a wide grin. “But, uh, do you think you could teach me how to do that?”

Accidents happened, but they happened far too often when it came to Willow and her telekinesis. “But they shouldn’t,” she insisted, head shaking even as she skittered to put space between her and Eddie once again. “I don’t- I don’t control it.” The admission was paired with a blanket of shame and guilt falling over her features. Eddie had trusted her to give an answer when she offered help, and she was already failing the first question of that test. “I’m sorry- I can’t- I don’t know how to teach you. I don’t even know how to teach myself.” That was why he should stick around her brother more than he ever clung to her. “You should- you should go for now, I don’t want to hurt you if you stay longer.” How could she offer him a home, and then cast him out in the next breath? Was that not the cruelest thing she could have done? But if he left disappointed, at least he left whole and with his life still intact.

“Thank you, though.” He’d given her so much in just the span of a half an hour or so. “Really- thank you. I’m um- I’m glad the ghosts chose you to deliver the message, and brought you here.” Now the ghosts of her anxiety would just have to get him to leave. “And I do want you to text me.” In person wasn’t something she was willing to offer in the wake of having lost control, but she remembered how relieved he’d look immediately before everything had gone south, the look of a man crawling towards an oasis in the midst of a desert while he’d throw himself into his attempted hug. She wanted to be the person that quenched his loneliness. Willow just wasn’t sure how to do it while keeping him in one piece.

#// I AM EMO ABOUT THESE TWO MEDIUMS #AND FRANKIE IS A GIFT #wickedswriting #chatzy #ch:eddie #spirited away

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walaw717 · 3 years

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Since I have backed away from spending much time using social media, I have been able to reflect on the last few years, especially the last year and ask myself a simple question – where did I go off the tracks?

I realize that even knowing better, in the last year especially, I allowed fear to turn into anger and in the process become entangled in thoughts words and actions which were harsh to others and supportive of positions I do not fully hold.

In this last month of returning to journaling and stepping away from the one line meme bumper sticker world of social media I realized that once again I had substituted many things into my life to replace a relationship with God I have nurtured since childhood. It embarrasses me to say this and it embarrasses me to admit that I find my need for that relationship so powerful in my life. I find I am embarrassed because a well educated and intellectual person is supposed to be beyond such “nonsense”. Also, I find myself often embarrassed by how often people publicly do so many cruel and horrible things with the word god on their lips, especially the televangelists and just as often the mainstream religious leaders who have often been an embarrassment, frustration and disappointment for me. It seems to me at times that to speak of God and one’s relationship and need of God is almost itself sacrilegious - but I know that feeling for me is so strong because throughout history God has been used as a cudgel for fear, punishment and obedience more than a center of real relationships. Or we often find that the love coming from the lips of the speakers about God is hollow and meaningless.

However, in my work as a therapist and counselor over thirty years I know that the best work that has occurred in my office is when God has been in the room – verbally acknowledge or not. God is in action in this world – the living force of all relationship and that relationship is not simply restricted to man. Last year I witnessed the ancient willow in my yard lift a frond and embrace a planter of new flowers we had just placed on the balcony rail.

So, what happened for me? To me? How did I get so far removed from that which has been my center and sustained me?

A man, a minister, a priest whom I thought was my friend ignored my grief and pain when I lost my mother. I should not have been surprised, I had seen him do this before, rushing away from a funeral service and leaving the widow to mourn alone because he had a new baby that was more important for him to see than to see the need of comfort she required. And in that same year I spoke to a Bishop at the end of my year of discernment to become a priest and in our conversation he did not acknowledge me as a person in conversation but focused on administrative things. Although neither should have shaken my faith in God, it shook my faith in the church and I mistakenly thought the church was God. From that point I slid into a slow burn in life because I disconnected from the very thing that had sustained me through a difficult childhood and then through most of my adult life. I think this is a common mistake – to conflate god with the church and the people of the church. And then expect them to be perfect for us in representing God.

It is occurring to me however that no person can ever be that perfection and that is why the essence of God in the world is grace – the ability to understand the violence, the suffering and pain that life manifests and forgive it all. Why the world, why the universe is made this way is beyond my understanding, but it is, and we need the grace of forgiveness of others and ourselves to survive. How do we become vessels for such grace? And more importantly we need to ask how we isolate ourselves from such grace.

A few days ago, I spoke to a small group of nursing students about the role of Behavioral Health where I work. They introduced themselves by name and pronoun and I was struck by how young they were and how sad that the best they could offer as a personal introduction was their name and preferred pronouns. If I had had time, I would have redone introductions and had them tell me something more personal about who they were. I spoke about the need of presence and kindness in the work of a nurse and/or counselor at the bed side. The people need that presence. At the end one very androgynous young women asked me about the issue of how to deal with the inequity and lack of “social” justice in the world. I think that is the question in some way we all deal with in our lives.

My answer to her was to be present with individuals, to be kind and to be aware of the person in front of us. In my better moments that is how I have helped people. No such thing exists in the social media driven by the speeches of politicians, the memes of hate and dis-ease or the private manufactured lives of celebrities. It surely does not act in the crowd shouting for change. Social justice is individual justice. I wish that act of presence and awareness had been present in the priest I knew and the Bishop I spoke to – but they too are human and just like you and I are inclined to get lost in self directed moments. We all do.

It is in our relationship with God that we are at our best. When we are present with “him” that we are most present with others. When we are present with “him” we lose our concerns and fears and can be there in the moments when life around us is suffering because when “he” is present we have a strength and peace that is beyond words. We can hope that others can offer that to us in our moments of pain and need and that they too have the experience of that presence. God is always there but it is in our relationship with another “His” power is most noticeable. In those moments too we learn that love is not some sexually driven frenzy of our DNA but it is simply being and is just there in that intimate moment.

Our relationship with the presence of God is vital. And it is when we are in that relationship, we create the church, the community of God and can then be life-giving and life-affirming.

And We can know that in our not being God and having moments of weakness that God will be there through another – because we will have moments of being distracted and be selfish and inward.

Our relationship with God is what gives us purpose and the center of our being.

When we let our relationship with God slide, an emptiness sets in. I have seen that in my own life in the last few years. Sometimes we try to fill that hole with various things, politics, social media, a multitude of things but those things don’t quite fit. None of those things makes us whole. What makes us whole is our presence in the moment of another’s greatest need.

Real love wants us to experience that life-giving relationship. Real love is willing to share the experience of the presence God within us with others. In that sharing is our act of presence and kindness.

Here's where our hope is: when we are in right relationship with God, we can be in a right relationship with each other, and those relationships help build each other, not tear each other down. If often feels like our society has lost sight of this – especially the intellectually driven and self-conscious academic life that has come to dominate us though our universities and our obsession with self-esteem. We have lost the knowledge that esteem is how we are held by others by our presence and actions. And of course, where there is too much self – there is too little room for the presence of others and God.

There are many things that can try and keep us from having that closeness with God. Sometimes those things come from our family members, especially those who do not want us to make room in our hearts for anyone else. Mostly though the thing that most keep us from that relationship with God and keeps us from that relationship each other is distraction with how we feel. That was my priest friend’s failure toward me and in turn my failure toward him.

For me over the last few years social media has been a distraction, I find all too often the people I meet there have more of a relationship of talking at each other and not really sharing with each other. The one’s I have really connected with share themselves, which is quite risky in the public forums of social media. Being an administrator has also been a distraction – I miss sitting and being present with others – not to solve their problems but to be there and maybe offer some direction and comfort if I am able.

And my hurt over the loss of my mother, my very deep hurt that a friend forgot my suffering became the greatest distraction to me. I simply decided that all the talk was “bullshit” and no one really meant it. It was after that my private practice began also to deteriorate as I focused on things other than the presence of those coming to meet with me.

I became the very thing that had hurt me.I no longer blame my priest, but I do allow that to be a reminder of the importance of being present in each moment with people and to make sure to not allow my fear and anger pain to turn to anger. This is something I have always known but in the knowing I forgot to live and that forgetting was directly tied to dismissing God from my life.

Now I am doing the hardest thing any human can do for another person- find and offer forgiveness for him being as human as I .

And all of this has come to me because I divorced myself from social media for twenty-eight days.

I just realized that without awareness I gave up social media for lent and in going to the desert of my own soul I found a relationship with God again.

This is a further offering of peace to all of you I have been unkind too over the last few years, especially over the last year regarding politics.

If there is a hell, and I believe there is and there are many gates to hell, the distraction and cruelty of social media is the one most crowded now.

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julictcapulet · 3 years

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💘 + for all three of our ships!!!!!!

literally MY CHILDREN i love them :’)

AARON &. WILLOW

where they first met and how: Willow was hired as the band’s photographer so she and Aaron met at the photoshoot, and they hit it off right away

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: Sooo long, like it was over a year before feelings were actually confronted. It was a lot of both of them having feelings they ignored because they assumed they’d just go away and then realizing they weren’t going away so they had to hide them because they both thought the other didn’t reciprocate, and then over a year later Aaron got impatient.

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): Aaron for sure.

where their first date was and what it was like: I always imagined their first proper date to be at a bar, probably the same one they’ve been going to since they met, and at first it was awkward because they were both very aware that this was a ~date~ but after like ten minutes, things smoothed out.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): I think after they get their shit sorted out, it was kinda just like....a thing?

who proposes first: Aaron :)

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: Well, everybody in their friend group already knows they have feelings for each other and they find it insufferable, but after they actually begin dating, I think they’d let it go like two or three weeks without saying anything just so they can have their time, you know?

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): Aaron proposes in his apartment because they’re both private people

if they adopt any pets together: Omg please, I want them to have so many pets

who’s more dominant: Willow. Aaron’s a very mild guy, and Willow is not.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: A lil drunk, way before things got serious between them, and even though they both enjoyed it, it left things very complicated for a bit. That didn’t stop them from kissing a few more times before they even thought of getting together.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): I don’t know actually? Feel free to give me your ideas qheifujwjkq

how into pda they are: They’re into PDA when it’s not, like......PDA, you know? Like, they’ll hold hands and Willow will lean her head on his shoulder in front of the group and stuff, like they’re fine with being touchy because they are, but when it comes to kissing and more in public, they’ll do it in isolated areas and still get a thrill from knowing people can see them.

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Aaron because he’s taller

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): Either their favorite bar or Aaron’s loft

who’s more protective: Aaron. He’s seen Willow get hurt too many times to not be protective

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): Over a year before they had sex, but they’d probably slept in the same bed a few times at that point.

if they argue about anything: Commitment, lmao. Also, what movie they watch.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Willow. We love a top

who steals whose clothes and how often: Willow steals all of Aaron’s shirts

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Facing each other because they’re sickeningly in love

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: You know what? I see them playing board games, okay.

how long they stay mad at each other: Probably like a few hours lol. Until shit really hits the fan but we won’t talk about that.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Aaron drinks his coffee black and his tea with extra sugar but idk about Willow

if they ever have any children together: I can see it and it makes me emo :’)

if they have any special pet names for each other: I’m not going over this question again okay

if they ever split up and / or get back together: Lmao yes

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): Messy with not a lot of decor, mostly some of Aaron’s favorite photographs of Willow’s that she’s taken that he hangs around the loft (like aEsThEtIc ones yk) and pics of them. Some fake plants probably

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: Cute as hell, probably with their whole friend group celebrating together

what their names are in each other’s phones: Their names with emojis next to them <3

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): Movie nights!!

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Aaron falls asleep and wakes up first.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Aaron’s the big spoon, Willow’s the little spoon

who hogs the bathroom: Willow

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Aaron

CAMILLE &. BLAKE

where they first met and how: They grew up in the same sort of circle since childhood because of their parents, and they were both aware of each other’s existence especially in high school, but because Blake was older and Camille had a reputation that he didn’t associate with, they never actually met until their parents told them about the wedding.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: There was no real ‘flirting’ phase, there was a lot of arguing, a lot of sex, and then somehow they fell in love.

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): I really really think Blake fell first, if only because Camille was still so understandably upset about the wedding and how Blake handled it? She never even thought about whether or not she had feelings for him until she heard him say ‘I love you’.

where their first date was and what it was like: An arranged public outing at some fancy restaurant that their parents arranged. It was really tense because Camille wouldn’t cooperate and at the end, she wouldn’t even let him put his arm around her for any cameras.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): Their parents did it for them lol

who proposes first: Do I really need to answer this question? But the second time, it’s after their second huge fight, about the lawyer, and they decide to have a second wedding together.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: Lmao cute

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): It’s not a thing, it’s more like their parents just put an announcement on the front page of the paper and that’s how everyone knew. The second time, like the actual proposal, was just between the two of them after Camille came home and it was more of a discussion, not a proposal.

if they adopt any pets together: I don’t see it, just because Camille is a control freak and she can’t handle the responsibility.

who’s more dominant: They both have their moments.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: Their first kiss was a picture for their engagement announcement, but their first like, actual kiss was when Camille came to his office to get him to call of the wedding and they started arguing.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): They probably got so many matching couples gifts from their first wedding because it was obscenely big and their parents probably invited like 400 people, but I doubt they kept any of it.

how into pda they are: Very :)

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Blake because height difference

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): A really nice restaurant probably.

who’s more protective: Both of them

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): They first had sex when Camille went to ask him to call off the wedding and he said no, and I think when they first moved in together, they didn’t really sleep in the same bed for a bit. One of them was probably always going to a different room to sleep without saying anything about it, and then one time they had sex and neither of them got up so it just became a thing.

if they argue about anything: Everything.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Blake leaves a lot of marks on Camille, usually where no one can see, like bruises on her hips or her neck that she covers up, and Camille leaves scratches on his back

who steals whose clothes and how often: Camille would steal any of his sweatshirts.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Spooning

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: They really just like spending time together when things sort of calm down between them. They’ll sit and talk with each other, or they’ll be doing their own thing but like, together, you know?

how long they stay mad at each other: A while

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Camille’s is an iced caramel latte no matter the season or the weather because she’s a typical New Yorker

if they ever have any children together: Max, two kids. God help Camille if her first kid isn’t a girl.

if they have any special pet names for each other: I’m not answering this

if they ever split up and / or get back together: Yeah like three times

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): Clean because Camille is a neat freak and a control freak and she used her designer’s eye to make sure they live in a very nice home

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: It was probably terrible. They most likely spent it with their families together after their first wedding and they both had an awful time

what their names are in each other’s phones: If Cami’s name isn’t My Wife with an engagement ring emoji next to it in Blake’s phone, I’m suing. In her phone, it’s his name with the 💝 emoji

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): I think after they become a very stable couple, they both want to actually have dates together so they decide to go to new places every so often. Also, Camille would try to teach Blake how to cook.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Camille falls asleep first, Blake wakes up first.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Blake is the big spoon

who hogs the bathroom: Camille, but it’s a big bathroom with a his and hers side so they’re fine, she’s just in there longer.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Blake.

MONTY &. LUCILLE

where they first met and how: As children :’) Lucille was immediately infatuated with Monty

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: Was there really a flirting phase, though? Was it not more of Lucille being in love with him and him being in love with her sister and then after they met again in Paris, she was literally engaged so it was just a lot of tension?

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): Lucille

where their first date was and what it was like: A picnic, fight me

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): Monty probably makes a scene in front of Lucille but like, no one else is around, it’s just them

who proposes first: Monty

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: They probably don’t tell anybody back home until they get home

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): Probably on another picnic, FIGHT ME

if they adopt any pets together: Maybe a cat. Lucille is a cat person

who’s more dominant: Monty. Lucille is not dominant in the slightest.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: Monty probably just snapped and kissed Lucille and she didn’t expect it and didn’t know what to do

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): Hand towels as a wedding present.

how into pda they are: Lucille gets a thrill out of it because it makes her feel ~*~scandalous~*~

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Monty because he’s a gentleman

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): A really nice field or courtyard

who’s more protective: Monty

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): You know, I have a feeling that before they got married Lucille probably let Monty sleep in her bed, but they didn’t have sex until after

if they argue about anything: They debate over literature constantly, but also, feelings :) If you want some angst when they finally get together, think about Lucille having doubts about Monty and Katherine and thinking she’s a consolation prize and them arguing about it

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Lucille likes when Monty leaves marks, but she’d also leave lipstick marks on him

who steals whose clothes and how often: She’d take some of his clothes.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Both

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: Going to see plays and operas together

how long they stay mad at each other: Lucille can hold a grudge for a while

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Milk and sugar

if they ever have any children together: Yes :’)

if they have any special pet names for each other: Enough

if they ever split up and / or get back together: No, it just takes them a long long long time to get together, but once they do, they’re solid

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): It’s a big space but it’s still a home. It looks lived in and it doesn’t feel like a cold estate.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: Probably much like it was when they were spending the holidays together as children. Just lots of family around them.

what their names are in each other’s phones: If they had phones, Lucille would just have his name as Monty in hers because she wouldn’t like emojis in contact names. She would use them excessively when texting, though.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): p i c n i c s

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Lucille falls asleep first, Monty wakes up first

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Lucille is the little spoon.

who hogs the bathroom: Lucille

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Monty, what a man

#rosecolore-d #answered #(meme. mine)#(meme. aaron)#(meme. camille)#(meme. lucianna)#(aaron clarke. the kaleidoscope heart)#(camille ferri. the princess scorned)#(lucianna howard. the idealized dream)#(aaron and willow. two punch drunk souls all tangled in the wind)#(camille and blake. the stupid truth is i'm so bad for you)#(lucianna and monty. don't need a ring for my finger; just need a steady hand to hold)#💖 mutually assured destruction 💖

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gffa · 7 years

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I tore through THE DEFENDERS and enjoyed it a lot and it got me back into reading fic for a bit and there’s some really cute, fun and/or heartbreaking fic, ENJOY CRYING ABOUT ASSHOLE SUPERHEROES WITH ME. MARVEL’S THE DEFENDERS: ✦ Above, but undermined by lloydsglasses, matt & jessica, ~1k “Do you actually need the stick?” she asks abruptly, shoving her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. ✦ Gone For Soldiers by LJC, claire & jessica, 1.4k The memorial service was on a Tuesday. ✦ Earthquake Weather by smilebackwards, foggy & jessica, 1k Foggy cleans up Matt’s apartment. Jessica helps. ✦ The Get-Along Game by Beguile, matt & jessica & luke & danny & claire, 4.9k “What Trustfund McPrettyboy is trying to say is-“ Jessica ignores the pointed glare in her direction from Danny, “-Matt needs a doctor and turned down the offer for Danny to fist him back to health.” ✦ Ballistics by Jadesfire, matt & foggy, 6.3k Five times Matt thought it was a good idea to catch something someone threw at him ✦ Lather, Rinse, Repeat by Willowe, foggy, 1.3k Foggy wakes up, gets dressed, and goes to work. ✦ they keep it all under my bed by paperclipbitch, matt/jessica, NSFW, 3.3k “Are you kidding me?” Jessica asks, flat, and Matt quirks an eyebrow. “Jesus Christ, everyone’s right, you have no sense of self-preservation. What’re you gonna do next, ask Danny to fist you?” “Well,” Matt says carefully, “no.” ✦ Just In Case by igrockspock, foggy & matt & cast, 1.6k “Maybe he made it out,” Karen says. “Maybe…” Foggy parrots back. He knows he shouldn’t hope, but somehow he can’t stop himself. ✦ Penance by sammysouffle (talesandthings), matt/elektra, ~1k Matt literally searched the whole world for her, and this is where he finds her. Right here in his own apartment. ✦ are you there, sweetheart? by Anonymous, matt/elektra, ~1k The sticking point of it is this: He died in her arms. Matt dies in the fight against Nobu. this is Elektra, in the aftermath. ✦ Your Loss by telm_393, foggy & matt, 1.7k Now that Matt’s actually gone, things haven’t changed much. ✦ What a Lovely Way to Burn by MissIzzy, foggy/matt, NSFW, 1.1k They both enjoy this one, when the opportunity presents itself. full details + recs under the cut!

✦ Above, but undermined by lloydsglasses, matt & jessica, ~1k “Do you actually need the stick?” she asks abruptly, shoving her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. A short piece that’s an expansion of the scene where Matt and Jessica go to the architect’s house and it has such great, hilarious, sharp dialogue and really easy to see sliding in between the frames of canon! A really great treat to read when you’re itching for more of these two and their dynamic. ✦ Gone For Soldiers by LJC, claire & jessica, 1.4k The memorial service was on a Tuesday. After the series, Claire attends Matt’s funeral and there’s a lovely sense of how much she cares, how hard this is for her, but also that she’s really drifted away from that corner of the world, there’s a sense of distance that’s perfectly done. But then she meets up with Jessica and both of them are written beautifully, it’s such a quietly aching story that is just exactly how I imagine these two would interact. Lovely all the way around. ✦ Earthquake Weather by smilebackwards, foggy & jessica, 1k Foggy cleans up Matt’s apartment. Jessica helps. I didn’t set out to read a lot of Jessica fic and I actually will read beyond her, but she’s a great character for post-series exploration because she’s in such a messy place and all the feelings are so messy for everyone. Playing her against Foggy, as they’re both in these awkward places, where she’s so abrasive but really does want to help and he gets that, combined with both of their sense of loss of Matt, it’s a lovely read that’s very easy to see for both of them. ✦ The Get-Along Game by Beguile, matt & jessica & luke & danny & claire, 4.9k “What Trustfund McPrettyboy is trying to say is-“ Jessica ignores the pointed glare in her direction from Danny, “-Matt needs a doctor and turned down the offer for Danny to fist him back to health.” This was written before The Defenders came out and I do think it gave Danny a bit more of a noogie than the show did, but I only mention that to keep people reading because this one was one I just sailed right through, it’s got a great handle on comedic timing, the fisting joke is used a bunch of times but in the way that it just kept getting funnier because the author knew how to use it/convinced me that these characters would use it in this way, and really nails the sense of five strong personalities pinging off each other and clashing, all while keeping their personalities separate and sharp. It’s a really engaging read and I love the little details, the sense of different dynamics here, the way Luke and Jessica interact isn’t the same as Matt and Jessica isn’t the same as Danny and Jessica, for example! And Claire is so very Claire here, she really is the connection between these people, she’s the ties that brought them together and you can really feel that in a lovely, foundational way, even as they all go firing off at once in different directions. A really, really fun read and also Matt’s dedication to getting whumped was sad and hilarious and heartbreaking and perfect. ✦ Ballistics by Jadesfire, matt & foggy, 6.3k Five times Matt thought it was a good idea to catch something someone threw at him Okay, really, this is just Daredevil fic, rather than Defenders fic, but I got swept back up into these characters and clicked onto this one and found myself really enjoying it a lot! The sense of chaos that Matt has to navigate with his senses, the way he has to be hypervigilant about things, it’s this really good blend of just making me feel exhausted reading it while still being warm-hearted and often times fun, that it’s the simple, every day moments that come the closest to tripping him up. It balances that isolated loner with how he desperately wants to let these people in, that heartbreaking blend that is Matt Murdock of the MCU just so well and also was just really good DD fic with a lot of really sharp detail. ✦ Lather, Rinse, Repeat by Willowe, foggy, 1.3k Foggy wakes up, gets dressed, and goes to work. This was a fic that just whole-heartedly embraced what Foggy is going through after the end of the Defenders first season, how he feels all over the place, how this is another go-around on this fuck-awful merry-go-round, how there’s this element of dark humor to cope, but also so much real emotion, and just, man, Foggy really deserved better, but this was such a lovely fic to explore his hurt and grief. ✦ they keep it all under my bed by paperclipbitch, matt/jessica, NSFW, 3.3k “Are you kidding me?” Jessica asks, flat, and Matt quirks an eyebrow. “Jesus Christ, everyone’s right, you have no sense of self-preservation. What’re you gonna do next, ask Danny to fist you?” “Well,” Matt says carefully, “no.” I was briefly hesitant about picking up a fic for this pairing, because I liked it as a dynamic, but I wasn’t sure I shipped it, but this fic really hit the right middle ground for me, that it’s about messy fuck-buddies, sort of, than it is about any kind of feelings. It has great character voices for both of them, really gets those sharp, jagged edges both characters have in their own ways, but then gives it scorching hot porn where Jessica pegs the hell out of Matt and then he goes down on her afterwards. Like, yes, thank you, that was smoking hot and just an absolute scream of a fic! ✦ Just In Case by igrockspock, foggy & matt & cast, 1.6k “Maybe he made it out,” Karen says. “Maybe…” Foggy parrots back. He knows he shouldn’t hope, but somehow he can’t stop himself. This is a really lovely look at Foggy’s grief, that he just can’t bring himself to move on, can’t bring himself to clean out Matt’s apartment, so he cleans it up instead. There’s such an undercurrent of grief here and, oh, Marci is spectacular in this fic and the emotional build-up to the ending is done really, really well and it’s just a great cathartic read after the ending of the first season. ✦ Penance by sammysouffle (talesandthings), matt/elektra, ~1k Matt literally searched the whole world for her, and this is where he finds her. Right here in his own apartment. The Defenders reawakened my love for Matt/Elektra and this was a short but fun piece that soothed my fannish heart as well as had a really solid take on the way they interact with each other, how sharp they are with each other, but how much is underneath that as well. It really helped scratch that itch I had for these two! ✦ are you there, sweetheart? by Anonymous, matt/elektra, ~1k The sticking point of it is this: He died in her arms. Matt dies in the fight against Nobu. this is Elektra, in the aftermath. This may be short, less than a thousand words, but it’s beautifully done even in that short time and, oh, it really packed a punch. It’s beautifully written and such a fascinating alternate universe and it was really easy to see Elektra getting somehow roped into this universe before she even realizes it, the undercurrent of everything she and Matt felt for each other just spot on. ✦ Your Loss by telm_393, foggy & matt, 1.7k Now that Matt’s actually gone, things haven’t changed much. This is another one of those cathartic fics about Foggy’s grief after the first Defenders season, this one just absolutely reveling in the all hurt and no comfort of it, how Foggy tried to prepare himself for this, tried to look at Matt as a ghost already gone even when he was still there, thought he’d accepted it, and yet the reality still hits him and he doesn’t know how to deal with this and, oh, it’s such a good, solid dive into those feelings that I enjoyed it very much. ✦ What a Lovely Way to Burn by MissIzzy, foggy/matt, NSFW, 1.1k They both enjoy this one, when the opportunity presents itself. I didn’t expect to get sucked back into this pairing, despite how much I loved it once upon a time, but then somehow I found myself clicking on this fic and reallyenjoying it, that I can easily believe Matt would enjoy being fucked even if he was too feverish to do anything about it at the time, that he knows he’ll get off on the scenario when he’s recovered (of course Matt would), as well as Foggy tries to balance giving Matt what he wants with being thoughtful and loving. Throw in some very nicely satisfying sex and some adorable banter and you get a fic that was great fun and I’m so glad to have read!

#defenders #daredevil #jessica jones #luke cage #iron fist #matt murdock #foggy nelson #elektra natchios #danny rand #claire temple #fic recs #marvel #marvel fic recs #while i try to get back into the swing of writing recs here have this

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