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powdermelonkeg · 4 months

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just saw ur gale/mystra analysis post. im new to the game and dnd lore and honestly… ur take on their relationship feels like the most natural/compelling one??? esp since its all too easy to simplify topics that have many facets and nuance….

thanks for sharing i love analysis and reading people’s takes on narratives : D

My pleasure! (Bee from the future here: congrats, you spawned another meta!)

I love complicated characters, WAY more than I like a clear cut-and-dry case. Flaws, to me, are what make a character compelling and lead to interesting stories about them with choices that can get them into situations. I'm both writing a fanfic and running a campaign where I'm playing as Gale, and in the interest of portraying him properly and in-character, I've gone into SUCH a deep dive into all the decisions and facts that make him him.

It helps to, y'know, also be in love with the fictional wizard, but I digress

The thing about Baldur's Gate 3 is that no character in there is perfect. I've seen a couple analyses about the theme of continuing cycles of abuse vs breaking out of them, but in my mind, in terms of the characters themselves, it goes like this:

The origin characters have just come out of the lowest situation of their lives (Lae'zel being the exception; being tadpoled is a gith's worst nightmare. You're seeing that lowest situation in real time).

Not the lowest point, mind. Gale's lowest was probably the day after he got the Orb. Wyll's was probably the day his father cast him out. Karlach's was the day she lost her heart. But the lowest, accepted normal for them is what they've just left.

They're then thrown out of their depth and forced to rely on you to live. That's #1 priority: living. We get the extremes of these characters before we get their nuances, because they're quite literally at their breaking points.

Then once we get to know them, we see their wants, their hopes, their fears, as they open up to us. Every companion's story is at their own pace, but they all have a moment where they ping-pong between despondency and desire. Sometimes that desire is what we know isn't good for them, like Shadowheart wanting to be a Dark Justiciar. Sometimes that despondency is only for a flicker, like Astarion's realization that he's condemned 7000 people to a half-life of tortured spawnhood for as long as he's been a vampire.

Romance lets us crack all that open more, because if you pursue a romantic partner, they see you as their closest confidant. They WANT to trust you, so they're more willing to explain how they see the world and what decisions they want to chase.

And then their endings. Those often get simplified as good/bad, continuing the cycle vs breaking away from it. But how is Duke Wyll on the same platform as Ascended Astarion? He's not evil, he's not even entirely unhappy. He might even have broken out of his abusive cycle with Mizora, if you played your cards right. And Ascended Astarion is overjoyed, even if he is remarkably more cold.

I think that the endings are less a dichotomy of "this is good for them" vs "this is bad for them," and more one of "bringing out their best traits" vs "bringing out their worst."

Wyll's worst trait is being willing to sacrifice his own wants for whatever people desire of him. His best is standing for what he believes in and ensuring people are safe. Duke Wyll leans into that necessity to turn the other cheek in the name of people who count on him, while the Blade of Avernus has seized that moral compass of his and forged it out of mithral.

Shadowheart's worst trait is blind obedience at the cost of her individuality, while her best is her desire to be kind to things that don't deserve to be hurt. Mother Superior Shadowheart's whole life is defined by Shar. Selûnite Shadowheart's life is defined by her hospitality, especially towards animals.

Karlach's worst trait is how willing she is to accept that things are (to quote her) fucked, letting despair override hope. Her best is her durability in the face of horror. Exploded Karlach would rather die than try to work out a solution in the Hells, because she's terrified of facing Zariel alone. Mindflayer Karlach has accepted her fate and decides to give up her heart and soul to go out a hero, losing who she is. Fury of Avernus Karlach is willing to keep fighting for a solution, and by the time the epilogue happens, she's got her sights set on one.

Astarion's worst trait is his desire for power over people. His best trait is using the tools he has to his advantage. Ascended Astarion has let his powerhungry nature and paranoia lead all of his decisions, with his sights set on dominating mankind. Spawn Astarion has embraced what he is, and carved out a life for himself where he can do as he pleases.

Lae'zel's worst trait is her blind fanaticism, while her best trait is her individual dedication, making her loyalty a marriage of the two. Ascended Lae'zel is a meal for the lich queen, turning a blind eye to all Vlaakith's tried to do to her and literally being consumed by her fervor. Champion of Orpheus Lae'zel has turned her loyalty into something productive for diplomacy. Faerûnian Lae'zel has seized her individuality by the throat and decided her own future.

And then Gale. Gale's worst traits are his hubris and, paradoxically, his low self worth. His best traits are his creativity and wonder for the world. God Gale is the embodiment of ambition, having burned away all but that in pursuit of perfection. Exploded Gale has let his remorse blot out all hope for a redemption in which he does not die, because he thinks he's earned it. Professor Gale leads his life by embracing the school of Illusion and letting his creativity thrive, teaching others to do the same. House Husband Gale has multiple creative projects he's working on, and Adventurer Gale is always finding new sights to see and wanting to share them with you.

There are arguments to be made on which ending the origins are happiest in, certainly, or which one benefits them the most, but each ending represents the extreme of a facet they possess.

So with all that, there's a sort of malleable method to figuring out the ins and outs of a character.

You take their endings—all of them, all variables they can have—and reverse-engineer the flaws and details they carry. Then you start to notice how those work into their approvals for minor things: Astarion approving of your taking of the Blood of Lathander, or Shadowheart approving of standing up for Arabella. Getting a list of approvals and disapprovals is helpful, but having those endings on hand tells you why they react like that to a majority of their decisions.

You take their romance-route explanations of how they act, and apply those to earlier decisions. Astarion's confession to manipulating you and Araj-prompted admittance to using himself as a tool brings to light how he reacts to your decisions, regardless of his actual opinions on them. Wyll's fairytale romance and love of poetic adages speaks to his idealistic nature, and why he takes a sometimes-blinded approach to decisions in which the "right" answer isn't always the smart one.

You take their beginning reactions to stress and use that to measure how future decisions impact them. Lae'zel locks down and gets snappy when she's scared, while Gale immediately turns to diplomacy. Shadowheart has gallows humor, while Wyll turns to quiet acceptance. If they break from these and seem even worse, you know the situation is more dire in their minds than having seven days to live.

And then you factor in all their fun facts and dialogue choices and backstories.

A wizard falls in love with a goddess and her magic, attempts to retrieve a piece of her power for her, is scorned for his attempt and is cursed to die.

Give that backstory to a Tav. Look at how it changes.

A chaotic good wizard fell in love with a goddess, thought retrieving a piece of power for her would be a showy bouquet of love, and was punished for not thinking things through.

A lawful evil wizard fell in love with a goddess's power, snatched the most precious thing she owned, tried to use it to barter his way through to the secrets she kept, and was given a swift retribution.

Same backstory. Same class, same act, same goddess. Wildly different connotations. Wildly different conclusions as to who is in the wrong.

If you take all there is to Gale, all that the game shows us makes up his character, and apply it to this backstory, you get what really happened:

A wizard, enamored with magic, fell in love with a goddess. His desires led him to want more than she was willing to give. In his well-buried fear of inadequacy, he concluded that the reason she wouldn't indulge his ambitions was because he just hadn't proven himself worthy enough. So he tried to prove himself, but he lacked the context for what he was proving himself with. And the goddess, seeing a weapon that had killed her predecessor, saw this ambitious wizard as losing his way and coming for her just like the weapon's creator had. She was angry, she withdrew his link to her, and he didn't know why. So he drew the conclusion that she took his powers to punish him, and let that encompass his fall from grace.

Was he wrong to reach for what was out there?

If you knew that the answers to everything you cared about were not only known, but kept by someone you loved—someone who adored you—what would you do to ask to see them? What if your curiosities were if there were other planets with life out there, or how dark matter worked, or whether or not we could one day travel in the stars? What if it was the potential cure to an illness that's little-understood, or the way to make a program you dreamt up, or the scope of the true limits of your artistic talents? Would your answer change?

Was she wrong to cut him off?

If you were once hurt, and the person you loved—the person who adored you—brought the thing that caused it to your door, believing you'd want it, how would you react to seeing it? What if that thing was someone you thought you'd broken contact with, like a friend or family member you'd been trying to avoid? Would your answer change?

That's the sort of scope that needs to be applied to this, on both sides. You have to take the perspectives of each party, and apply two analogies instead of one.

Gale saw the vastness of the universe, untold wonders, the solution to every question he could ever dream up, and saw Mystra as withholding this from him because she thought he just wasn't worthy enough. To claim Mystra knew his perspective does her a disservice.

Mystra saw a cruel weapon she thought long gone, in the hands of someone who could use it, brought right to her, and thought Gale was willingly following the path of Karsus. To claim Gale knew her perspective does him a disservice.

Should Gale have researched his prize more, so he knew just what he was obtaining? Should he have kept his hands off a cursed book that would devour him? Of course he should have.

Should he have given up on chasing his dreams?

Should Mystra have understood that Gale's pursuit of power was nothing like Karsus'? Should she have communicated when she was angry instead of giving the cold shoulder? Of course she should have.

Should she have given him the benefit of the doubt?

That's the root of their falling out. That's what leads to hurt being inflicted. Understandable, human reactions to the situations they perceive. Unhealthy, unwise choices made afterwards.

You work backwards from this to figure out their dynamic as Chosen and goddess. You work forward from this to understand more of where Gale and Mystra are during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. Gale reached too high, and understands this. His goddess hates him, and he regrets this. Mystra isolated Gale, and understands this. Her Chosen wants redemption, and she wants to make it happen.

Just like we took Gale's character into account, we also have to take Mystra's.

A goddess is faced with a problem. She uses someone who's desperate for approval to solve it, by telling him to kill himself.

An evil goddess is faced with a threat to her reign. She sees someone who's unfailingly loyal and hates himself, and elects to have him tear himself apart rather than do anything about it.

A good goddess is terrified of the future. She sees someone who tried to hurt her, who's going to die anyways, and tells him to use it to save the world.

Same story. Same act, same power, same pawn. Different character. Different perspective. Different outlook on whether or not this is the right thing to do.

Mystra has died, multiple times, to people trying to stake claim to her domain. Someone appears with the very thing that could do it again, right as she's regained her stability.

She does not see mortals the way mortals do. She is timeless. She is eternal. She has a duty to protect billions of people, and one person lost to protect that number is more than worth the sacrifice.

People like to bring up the Seven Sisters as proof of Mystra's cruelty. For those unaware, Mystra asked permission to, then possessed, a woman, used her to court a man (with dubious consent from the woman), and bore seven children, all of whom were capable of bearing Mystra's power as Chosen without dying. The woman she possessed was killed in the process (reduced to no more than a husk, then slain by her now-husband, hoping to end her suffering), and the husband was horrified by the whole story.

Mystra needed Chosen in order to restore herself in the event that she was killed again, to prevent magic as a whole from collapsing and wreaking havoc on the mortal realm, like it had in the few seconds Mystryl had been dead. Elminster, Khelben Blackstaff, and the Seven Sisters contributed to this. The more Chosen she has, the better; what happens if Elminster dies? She can't afford to have all her eggs in one basket.

Mystra has Volo (yeah, that Volo) as a Weave Anchor, imparted with a portion of her power to prevent the Weave from shredding itself to pieces in her absence. All Chosen of Mystra are Weave Anchors by nature. The creation of Weave Anchors was mandated by Ao, the Overgod, and Chosen are the best way to make sure those anchors aren't drained by ambitious people hoping for godlike power. Chosen can, and will, defend themselves, unlike static locations (which Mystra also has). The anchors are why the Weave wasn't completely obliterated during Mystra's last death, when the Spellplague rose up, because they stabilized the Weave around them.

Everything Mystra does is in the name of the big picture, to prevent a catastrophe like the fall of Netheril from happening again. Her restriction of magic, her numerous Chosen, her creation of Weave Anchors, her destruction of those who would claim her power, it's all in the name of the stability she's been charged with. Dornal Silverhand's grief and Elué Silverhand's death, while regrettable, were worth it to bring seven more anchors into existence to save all of the Material.

So someone appears with the Crown of Karsus, potentially powerful enough to try to kill the other gods in the name of the Dead Three. She can't risk being a target of them. She can't risk the destruction of magic again.

Gale is going to die. He lives in fear. He begs for forgiveness.

In Mystra's eyes, she's offering him the best outcome. She'll let him die in service to her, to save Faerûn, and she'll forgive him. He's going to die anyways, and if he does this, she'll give him everything (she thinks) he could ever want in her realm. She's asking him to do what (she thinks) is the right thing.

"She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness."

Notably, she leaves the decision in his hands. She doesn't have Elminster lead him to the Nether Brain. She doesn't activate him as soon as he's there. When he lives yet, she doesn't revoke the charm that keeps him stable. And when he declines, when he lets it go and starts pursuing Karsus' path, she doesn't smite him on the spot.

She is (she thinks) being incredibly patient. If Gale is going to try to be Karsus II, she's ready for him. If he decides to walk off and keep the Orb, he's dug his own grave in the Fugue Plane (those who don't have a god to claim them roam endlessly as husks and form a wall of bodies around the City of Judgement).

From her perspective, she's not being unreasonable. But from the perspective of a mortal, she absolutely is.

"Now, I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?"

This is a question she cannot answer properly.

I think a lot of characterization is lost whenever someone paints one of them as being totally in the right. But I also think you have to be invested in them as characters to want to see that characterization. If you want to write about Mystra, you have to try to get into her head, analyze the decisions she made, figure out why she thinks she was right, and follow the pattern.

Gale's sacrifice is a very predictable thing for her to ask for.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #long post #like really long post holy hells #did not expect this to go on for this long #swearing tw #< for karlach #oh yeah #astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel #ask bee

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wifegideonnav · 2 years

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the importance of pov and kiriona gaia as gideon nav’s imperialist aspect

others have already made some really smart posts about how kiriona is gideon when she’s lost everything and everyone that made her who she was, and how even in the first two books, gideon was this terrifically sad creature who was disguised by the fact that she was her own narrator.

but I want to expand on that last bit, because yes. kiriona is a gideon who has lost everything, who has had to make tough decisions to survive, who has had to adapt to being primarily around her father (a manipulative asshole) and ianthe (ianthe). but this is also the first time we’re getting to see gideon from a perspective other than her own.

we’ve always known that gideon is a beautifully unreliable narrator - see her complete understatement of the fight before harrow opened the tomb, where she neglects to tell us that she almost killed harrow with her bare hands - but I think that for a lot of us, the introduction of kiriona was when we first felt that.

now, nona is not an objective narrator either (lmao). and she does actively dislike gideon (which is fascinating, and which I could go on about for several posts). but she does offer an outside perspective on gideon that we have, up to this point, been lacking.

because… yeah. sometimes, like anyone, gideon’s kind of mean. we know she’s a good person - her goodness is in many ways one of the central drivers of the plot - but that doesn’t mean she’s nice all of the time. it’s just that when she’s being mean to crux, or ianthe, or even harrow we can say, well that person deserved that. but the truth is, gideon has lived through the kind of hell that very few people could survive with any kind of goodness and softness left intact. she didn’t live through it, in fact. she’s just kind of… existed through it.

I saw another post point this out, and I want to reiterate: gideon’s goal, her whole life, has been to join the cohort. when we first meet her, we’re like, ok, makes sense, that’s the only ‘out’ available to her. and we kind of forget, even as we learn more about the empire, that what gideon wants to join is this actively and horrifically violent imperialist force. when we get to nona, and we meet hot sauce and her gang and joli and the angel and even the edenites, we expect gideon to have kept up with us somehow, to reject the empire. we want her to be one of the “good guys” (goodness in the tlt universe is another longass post I want to write…).

but gideon doesn’t reject the empire. because, crucially, she IS the empire - she is its heir, never mind the fact that that doesn’t really mean anything when the current emperor is immortal.

what I am trying to say is this: kiriona is gideon when you take everything from her, and then replace it with her father and everything he represents, and then take a step back.

that step back is crucial. it is what allows us to remember how imperialism - and by extension, or by metaphor, cruelty - works. gideon becomes cruel because she is in proximity to cruel people, AND because she is not in proximity to us.

THAT is what Muir is saying with kiriona. even the most kind, good, earnest protagonist can become a tool of evil in the right circumstances: and those circumstances include perspective. gideon, like it or not, is currently actively choosing to be a tool of empire. and if we were in her head, we might be able to - or we might be tricked into - accept her justifications for why she’s doing it.

the perspective shift is what allows us to see gideon as she - currently - truly is. it is no accident that this is when we get the outside pov. Muir allows us nowhere to hide; we have to confront what gideon has become and by extension what she always has been.

gideon nav is a good person, and I fully believe that in alecto we will watch her reject her father; I fully believe she will get to be a hero. but in order for that to happen, she - and we - must first undergo radical change and growth in terms of her worldview and attitudes. kiriona is not gideon’s final form. but in the same way that john is described by harrow as having aspects, kiriona is the aspect or facet of gideon that embraces cruelty, that perpetuates empire.

Muir tells us: even the most beautiful-hearted, trod-on girl in the world can become a tool of empire. but I have no doubt that in alecto she will tell us: this is how that girl can destroy it.

#does this make sense???#i don’t usually make Serious Meta Posts like this lol but this is important to me #op #tlt #tlt meta #the locked tomb #nona the ninth #ntn #gideon the ninth #gideon nav #kiriona gaia

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csuitebitches · 1 year

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On Getting Rid of Your Inferiority Complex

You can take advice from everyone and every book you read, but no one can protect you proactively, unless you choose to protect yourself. Only you can do that for yourself. Your parents, friends, partner can support you emotionally but you need to stop relying so much on external validation.

When you’re making a choice that you know is going to be detrimental to your health, whether its physical, mental or emotional - such as going back to your ex, not taking the next steps for your career/ education - you need to think more about your (near) future self and make sure that she’s also comfortable. You need to think long term.

As we grow up, we often encounter situations that we’ve been in before to some degree, there’s somewhat a pattern to them. It’s time to start recognising them early and leave when you see the red flags waving.

By breaking your own word that you’ve made to yourself you’re making the inferiority complex worse. Because you’re showing to your subconscious mind that you don’t matter at all. Others do.

It could be something “small” such as going out clubbing with your friends because you couldn’t say no - and having an important presentation due the next day. It could be something “big” such as breaking off a difficult relationship, and still going back to them.

When we suffer from an inferiority complex, we idolise people around us and think they’re better than us in every way. We choose to see the best in them- just the way we choose to see the worst in ourselves.

At some point, we have had enough and decide to start improving ourselves. How do we do this? By improving ourselves in areas that you feel left out in.

Such as, seeing an influencer live your dream life. Now you’ll do everything you can to live like her because you think that once you achieve that, everything will be great. You try to improve in areas that have no direct relation to your inferiority complex.

You’ll try work on these things - while that can be in a way good because it’s alright to have a dream life and motivation for it, that doesn’t fix the inferiority issue.

Because the inferiority issue solely comes from lack of confidence and trust in yourself. Even if you get your ideal life like that influencer, that confidence won’t last long and you’ll find something else to panic about - you’ll compare yourself to your peers, or the anxiety of jobs after or the next shiny thing you want.

To actually combat inferiority issues you HAVE to build a connection with yourself. True confidence will only come when you connect with yourself with things that aren’t material things.

You need to cultivate a growth mindset and genuinely believe that you WILL get better with time, you WILL get smarter with time, you will improve your talent over time. You have to detach yourself from outcomes, whether positive or negative and just take it as life.

And this doesn’t happen overnight. It takes consistent effort to not feel fomo anymore or feel shitty.

You have to stop hesitating putting yourself first, putting your emotional needs first, standing up for yourself and saying a big fuck you to things that deserve it.

Not everything that you have today will be permanent in your life and that’s something you have to come to terms with.

But if your worth is fully dependent on other people, then you really need to sit down with yourself and start actually working on the relationship that matters the most - the one with yourself.

You’re intimidated by these influencers or the people who you want to be like, not because they wear designer bags, have cool outfits, vacations, boyfriends, girlfriends - but because they often have a very strong sense of identity.

They express what they like and don’t like. They don’t change themselves depending on the person in front of them. If there’s something they want, they go and get it. They pursue what makes them happy.

When do you plan on doing that for yourself?

So how do you do it?

You need to build a strong sense of self identity.

How? By dating yourself. Ask yourself questions that you would ask someone on a first date. What are your answers? These answers will not remain the same over time and they shouldn’t either. Here are some as a guide:

1. What do you like in general?

2. What do you dislike in general?

3. List all the things you like about yourself

4. List all the things you can improve about yourself

5. Where would you ideally want to be in 2 years?

6. What sort of a life do you wish you had right now?

Next step is continue dating yourself. Aim for one new experience a week. It doesn’t have to be major. It could be something simple such as a cooking a meal you’ve never made, solving crossword puzzles, trying to grow herbs, colouring books. With new experiences, you learn something about yourself, which allows you further build a connection with yourself. Literally date yourself.

Take care of yourself the way you would care for a partner. How do you want to be cared for? What makes you feel loved and appreciated? Show yourself the same things too.

#c suite #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #strong women #getting your life together #feminine energy #balance #inferiority complex #fomo #insecure #insecurity #confidence #confident #secure #how to become confident

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badgyalshii · 2 months

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ITS NEVER OVER |||| (FINALE)

Word count: 4.1k

Paul Atredies x F!Reader (always safe for POCS + PLUSSIZE)

warnings: do NOT read this without reading the past chapters! This is the FINALE. Depression, language, death.

A/n: no words can describe how much this fic lowkey affected me, im greatful for my new followers and thank you for reading this and riding in this journey with me! I love you all, and proceed with caution, and once yr done reading come ttm!

READDDD THE FIRST CHAPTERS! LAST WARNING ITS RLLY GOOD🙄 I . II . III . IV .

Although you and chani shared a room,it still felt like something was missing, and it was clearly paul. You were already scared, but now you grew uncomfortable, you knew these people around you, but it was clear as day something changed, and both you and chani spoke about it, the tension in the air thick between the people you knew your whole life, something was up. You still didn't know where he was and you explained this to chani which she held you in her arms and listened to you vent while softly messing with your hair. ¨he will find you, he will come back, paul is strong, y/n, smart¨ she muttered, looking at you. You would cry if you could, but you never did. It was a rule, don't waste water, so it was in your bones not to cry. It was still your first day coming back to the palace, and it was late at night, you barely heard any footsteps outside of the rather big, dark, and quiet room.

¨maybe i should try to find him?¨ you said, looking at up chani and she let out a sigh before letting you go and touching her chin, rubbing it before coming up to your cheek. ¨you deserve rest. This is too much, enough about paul y/n! Just sleep. That's all you need to do, he will find you¨ her tone was demanding to which you didn't understand why, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at her sadly, and she laughed before standing up. ¨you know what? Do what you want to y/n. 6 years on the road for what! I've spent my years with you, and you aren't appreciative at all, it hurts my feelings,¨ she revealed, putting her hands on her hips and pacing. ¨paul, paul, paul! Go find him! And when you do and hes not the same dont even fucking talk to me¨ she laughed. ¨chani, don't be like this-¨

¨like what? Seriously, what? If thats what you want, go fucking get it. Because I'm done. I've done enough! You can't even live without paul! Have you not learned anything on your own? From stilgars teachings? From me?!¨ She blew up, all the things she wanted to finally say, she said, before she couldn't, because she tried her best to hear you out, but god you are so hard headed. She didn't even want to look at you. ¨why are you treating me like this?¨ you whispered, looking at her hurt. There was a lump in your throat and your lip pouted. ¨stop treating me like this¨ you said, looking at her begging. ¨you're so unbelievable. I hope you find what you want¨ she sighed and exited the door. You watched as she left before standing and trying to push the frog in your throat down with your knuckles.

This was all so sudden, why does she feel this way? Why did she do that to you? What did you do that was so wrong. But you were now awoken, aware that she wasn't wrong at all, and it hurt. It hurt that you were this way, could you live without paul? It wasn't your fault that you felt like this, maybe she was just jealous, but that isn't the right way of thinking. You laid in the cotton sheets and sat in the darkness, thinking, drifting throughout all of your thoughts as your throat clogged up and you tried your hardest to fight the feeling, but you couldn't. You let out a weak sob, trying to fight the tears that were about to escape your eyes. You swallowed, why? How long had she been feeling this way? Did she secretly hate you? Does she hate you? Maybe you're exaggerating. You came to terms with that and hoped when you slept you woke up to paul.

Knock knock knock

You woke up in a panic, how long have you slept? Was it the next morning? The room was horrifyingly black and you'd been in such a trance you forget what happened before you went to sleep. You heard the knocks again and you became nervous, slowly standing and wondering if you should pretend like you just weren't there, and suddenly the door opened, hardened eyes looked at you, you could feel it, but you couldn't see it. You heard the door creek as it continued to open until the door hit the wall with a small bang.

You slowly crouched down, reaching for the dagger that was in your boot, ̈hello?!¨ you called out after you stood in position. What the fuck was going on? So many thoughts coursed through your head as you wondered who was looking at you, would they say anything back? What should-

¨ Empress irulan has called you for dinner¨ the deep dark voice said, before reaching for the light and flickering it on. You let out an oh and your position changed to an awkward one, putting the dagger in your pocket before he turned the light on. You nodded your head, before letting out a chuckle. ¨erm, didn't know there was a light¨ he didn't find it funny, but he didn't look like he found anything funny. He wore a mask that covered his mouth and his eyebrows looked like he was always angry. ¨follow me¨ he said before turning around, and started walking without you.

It didn't take you long to follow him, the halls were long and quiet, only light from the chandeliers supporting your vision, if it wasn't such a gut sickening situation, the place would seem cooler and more lovely. The only thing that could be heard is the guards hard steps against the pavement of the floor. You looked around and tried to take in the area but every time you tried to think about something positive you couldn't help but think maybe this was the night you were gonna die. You had no protection besides your own, considering chani was mad and ran off to wherever. ¨bitch¨ you muttered under your breath thinking about it, and that seemed to take over your mind now. Why would she do that? What an asshole, and you both could have just talked about it! No need to blow up in your face, trash. You seemed to still be angry about it as you arrived to the door.

You finally arrived at the offly secret room, the entire room was black, the only thing that shined was the dinner table and irulan since there was a single chandelier hanging almost close to touch the dinner table, which must've been sturdy. Irulan sipping wine with a dinner plate in front of her and the same thing on the opposite side of her, guessing that space was for you. “Your majesty” the guard says, irulan looks over at the guard and the guard took notice before nodding, leaving the premises.

There you were, all alone, or you'd hope, with Irulan. Truth was, you could take her on your own no problem. You silently walked over and she watched you the entire time, you pulled out your own seat before scooting yourself in. you cleared your throat and looked ahead. Pretty embarrassing, if you will.

Irulan was dressed in silks, diamonds, everything anyone would want, her hair soft, teeth white and the way she stared at you like you were so beneath her was infuriating, but also made you insecure. You knew how you looked. Your hair is messy. Rips in your clothes. Self care isn't really relevant when you're on the road. She sipped her wine slowly, watching your every move before she set down the glass, and when she did, it was an offly loud sound. You awkwardly looked at her, you tried, tried your hardest actually to hide the fact that you were nervous, that you were scared, but the way that Irulan was looking at you, it was as if she could already tell.

Looking at this glorious food and wine made your throat quench, your mouth watering at the sight. It was filled with mashed potatoes, steak and vegetables, clearly from somewhere else because on this planet you don't really get such fantasies. You looked down at the meal and pursed your lips together, it wasn't that serious, but when you've been looking for scraps for years, and there was a plate just looking at you, waiting for it to be eaten, there's only so much you could do.

You didn't trust it, you averted your eyes from the plate and back up to her. ¨you can eat, you know¨ she said, her voice stern and upright as a smirk played on her lips. She couldn't help but laugh, her white teeth showcasing while you sat there, nervous, suspicious, annoyed, but now, embarrassed. Was there no way you could beat her? Was she just better than you? That wasn't even the point, was she aiming to kill you tonight.

You shut out all of the questions, this was a shot to assert your dominance.your eyebrows furrow in a suspicious state and you placed your hands together. ¨why am I here?¨and you broke her laugh, her eyebrows raised as she cleared her throat. This time, you sat tall, your voice strong. Stronger than you thought it would be. She came back to sitting straight and took a sip of her wine once again.

¨why did you come back?¨ she answered your question with another question. You looked at her before wincing your eyes, ¨is this about paul-¨ before you could finish your sentence, she cleared her throat and flashed you a soft smile. ¨We haven't talked since the wedding, won't even have a child for the sake of his bloodline¨ she said, now she has become comfortable. Picking up her glass and moving it to where the liquid forms into a circle. You had nothing to say. ¨you're a very smart girl¨ she says, looking at the glass.

¨I am a woman, thank you¨ you stated, you sat up, she eyed you, her head slowly turning up as she looked at you up and down once again. The room fell quiet. Weirdly quiet. She studied you again and again, as if she was trying to find out about you. ¨do you have secrets?¨ she asked, picking up her fork and taking a bite of her steak. ¨doesn't everyone?¨ you replied. The way she bit the steak, man, you wanted a piece. You could feel your stomach rumble. She chewed and nodded her head. ¨is the reason why you came back a secret?¨ she asked, swallowing her steak.

¨i came back because paul is the one i love-¨ ¨he's changed¨ irulan cut you off. ¨lots of blood on your hands can make you a changed person, you'll see¨ she winked and pointed her fork at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, ¨how do you know if you guys haven't talked since the wedding?¨ you argued, but you didn't want to fight it off, you wanted to hear what she had to say. ¨you'll see it, in his eyes-¨ ¨everyone knows his eyes are blue-¨

¨it's not that, y/n. Hes….what is a good way to say this¨ she thought out loud. ¨grumpy¨ she finished, before taking another bite of her steak. ¨and by grumpy you mean what?¨ ¨lazy¨ she replies, now taking a bite of her mashed potatoes before she looks up at you. ¨How could he be lazy if he's been gone for two years trying to find me? You know, I don't understand you. What are you trying to get out of me? Hm? What do you want?¨ you put your hands on the table about to lift yourself so suddenly before irulan stood and told you not to move. ¨I ordered the guards to watch and if you make any sudden movements they will take you out no hesitancy, i recommend you sit¨ she says quickly. You look in her eyes, it showed genuine concern as her hand was on yours.

¨ So you're scared of me?¨ you lowered, she sat along with you before shrugging and drinking the rest of what was in her wine glass. ¨let's be honest, you could have taken me out the first time you saw me . irulan says, you say nothing as you watch her, ̈and the food is poisoned?¨ you asked. She shook her head no, all this time wasted, you could've been with chani, you could've left, to find paul,, but here you sat. ¨so once again. Why am i here?¨ you asked again.

¨I don't want to be weak to others, if Paul comes back, I don't want anyone to know about you guys¨ she answers genuinely, it seems as if she's quite tipsy. You chuckle ¨irulan. Everyone does,¨ this was surprising, and how could irulan possibly want you to hide your love for paul when that's all you've really known, even in public, holding hands, considerably long hugs, small and innocent kisses. ¨ Now if you would excuse me¨ you look up, around before slowly standing, leaving irulan where she was. She looked at you, watched you intently and her eyes sat fierce, almost telling you to watch your back silently. You let out a breath before taking the plate and the wine with you, exiting the door and now having to find your way back to your room.

What a shitshow in one day, you would've thought things went way different, and you thought about it in your head, the scenario you had as you continued to walk through the halls.

You ran to the walls of the palace, and the security guard finally smiled for once in his life, considering the usual role he had to play as the job. You imagined he told you, “Paul's waiting, go to your room” and somehow you just knew where the room was. You'd see paul, paul sleeping, wondering what he dreamed of, since he was sleeping such soft snores, his nose flaring only from time to time. His eyebrows relaxed, his lightly chapped lips parted, taking in the air and softly breathing out. He wasn't tucked into the bed- no only when you were there to touch him and hold him in his sleep. He was shirtless, you touched his arm and softly forwarded it to the side of his cheek and up to his hair. His eyebrows would furrow before he opened his eyes, and when he did he blinked twice. Oh you remembered this like your left and your right, he wouldn't believe it, he would be so desperate in such a good situation, he cried for it. You'd make love to teach others before the night ended how it usually did, with you holding him and running your hands all through his hair and you both fell asleep.

You were so stuck in the dream that you bumped shoulders with someone, you caught a quick smell of this other, they smelled of salt and sand and as they took another step, you heard the crunch from his shoes. “Sorry” you let out a mutter, it came out in a groggy tone, didn't sound like you usually do, you sounded weak, sad and it didn't help that your head was hung low. He let out a hum and continued walking, at this point, you didn't care anymore, your day was already bad. You continued to walk, stepping and not picking up your feet before you decided maybe it was time to try the mashed potatoes that were on the plate, before you heard footsteps running to you, you looked over, did irulan just send one of her guards to you? But as he got closer, you saw his eyes, hazel, just looking at you and staring at you whilst he ran. You dropped the plate but kept the knife that was on the plate and stood in position for the second time today.

As the unknown person ran to you, you tried to breathe faster, heavier to tell when they were close, there he was! Quick! His hands reached out to you and when he pressed his body to yours, there was a squelch sound, of the knife breaking skin. You looked into the eyes that were pouring into your own with fear on your face, had you just made a mistake? The hazel eyes piercing your own were in shock, also covered in fear and you heard his mouth become agape. What the fuck just happened? Who is this?

You reach up with your free hand as he continued to hold you tightly and leaned on you, letting out a mutter, ¨y/n¨ he let out, you took off the mask and, ¨oh my god, no…no no no¨ your eyebrows furrowed as your mouth became agape. You froze and your hands shook, guilt covering your body.

¨paul¨ you said, when he tried to talk, he coughed blood on your face, drops of blood on the side of your lips and on your cheek, you let go of the knife in your hand and his body weight completely leaned on you making you both fall down. ¨paul paul paul, no!¨ you yelled, ¨no!¨ this couldn't be true, you were washed of accidental betrayal. All the blood dropped from your head to your feet. You laid him flat on his back and he choked every time he breathed, ¨talk to me! Please keep breathing, please, paul, please, it was an accident!¨ you let out, you sat in his lap and looked at the wound, you wouldn't be able to take off his thick cover as a shirt without taking out the knife, the handle was too thick. Sniffles came to your nose as you let out a loud fuck. ¨c-calm..do-wn¨ he choked. You looked at him before ripping off your shirt and wrapping it around his both to apply pressure to the wound. You leaned up and put your hand on the side of his cheek, your hand covered in his blood as you pleaded for him to stay alive. When he started to be unresponsive, still breathing and looking at you, trying to speak, you called out for help, yelled out that paul atreides has been stabbed, the emperor has been stabbed!

Guards instantly came and ripped you off of him, they put you in shitty and gritty handcuffs that itched your hands, but you weren't focused on that, tears brimmed your eyes as you watched the blood continue to pour from his mouth, he looked over, his body jittering, his lips moving as he was trying to tell you something, ¨i-i..found..¨ his hand reached up to you. ¨paul! Please!¨ you cried, yelling, the guards pulled you away and you shouted, ¨i love you! Please, hold on! Wait for me!” you yelled, you tried breaking out of the guards firm hands but it was no use, and it was probably better that way, better to get him to safety. You sniffled again and your head hung low as they pulled you to wherever.

You traveled down the stairs, into this place you didn't know, but as you continued to walk, there were cells, prison cells. People in them looked desperate, starved. Tears continued to stroll down your cheek, why? Why out of all days, you are positive you just killed the love of your life, and you didn't even hesitate. They took off the cuffs and threw you in a cell, you fell to the ground and on your knees as the guards looked down at you from the other side of the gate. ¨just, tell me when he is alive…please ̈ you begged, looking up at them. One laughed while the other shook his head at you before they both walked away.

The cell was cold and looking at the marks on the wall, you could tell this isn't the place to be. You sat on the ground, knees up to your chest, you didn't want to eat, you didn't want to sleep, you just wanted to know if Paul was alive, it had been three days, men in the cells were picking at you, but you paid them no mind. Three shitty trays of food sat in front of you, a guard felt bad for you, telling you, you should eat something, but you just couldn't. You sat in the same position they left you in, lips chapped, body shivering, and you were sure you would never return.

Suddenly, you heard something from the intercom, clear as day, you looked up to the speaker in your cell, ¨excuse me¨ you heard them clear their throat, this was the time, to know if he was alive, you stood and paced, waited on them to speak again, anxiety in your stomach and a rock laid in your throat, you tried to push it down with your knuckles. You looked at the speaker, eager and needy. ¨our emperor,¨ they cleared their throat again…you put your hands on your hair, ¨hurry up!¨ you yelled, still pacing.

¨has fallen¨ a shriek left your lips, hurt washed through your body and you fell on your knees again. Prisoners cheered through the cells, hell yeahs, wooo!´s. You grabbed your heart as cries escaped your lips, your throat hurt, you screamed from the top of your lungs. ¨y/n y/l/n has murdered the emperor¨ your mouth only fell more and you covered it with the palm of your hand. ¨holy! Ain't that you?!¨ the prisoner across from you said, while pointing at you. You said nothing, but he laughed. ¨emperor got killed by a girl!¨ he joked, but then, people started cheering you on now.

You heard a chant of your name and it made your head almost dizzy. ¨no! Shut up! Shut up!¨ you yelled, voice hoarse, no one could hear you the way they screamed and cheered, smiles on their faces. You lost so much breath your vision was poor, but then you heard your cell being opened, you laid over, looking at the ground before you felt guards grabbing you from under your armpits and lifting you up, your feet dragged as they were forced to move you. You still heard others shouting your name. What was this? Where were they taking you? You couldn't focus on one thing, and when you closed your eyes, they stayed close.

When you awoke, your neck and wrists were restrained, when you opened your eyes and looked up, there was a crowd, filled with freman, your people, shouting kill her. Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked at your wrists, you were about to be beheaded. You shook and tried to get out of there. Others laughed and you looked up again. They stood chani and paul's mother, chani looked sick, this wasn't true. Irulan stood there also, a black veil on her head as she watched you, no emotion on her face, but then suddenly there was a smirk. ¨silence!¨ a man yelled over the crowd, ¨does anyone object to this death sentence?¨ he yelled over. You looked at chani, then Lady Jessica, your eyes pleaded, but the way they wanted you dead, if they tried to fight for you, it seemed like they would be in your situation also. Stilgar looked at you with a stern, hard and stiff look. All these people, all your people, just turned a blind eye to the love you and Paul shared, you didn't even get a chance to explain yourself, would you go out unheard? Your breath quickened and you tried to calm yourself, tried to make peace, but once you blinked your eyes, they never opened.

This was it, you were dead. At least you would meet him on the other side. Looking back on it, maybe this was meant to be, in a way, it was beautiful. The pair suffered when they were not together, but now they get everlasting peace and happiness. Maybe they would get married, walk along the green grass, dress in all white, have a few kids together. They had each other, through thick and thin, when they hadn't seen each other for years their hearts were still connected and thought about each other everyday. But this is the end. Lovers now turn into soulmates as they fade off in the air together, and never look back.

TAGLIST 🏷

@huh01011 @heartsforchalamet

#dune part 2 #paul atredies x black!reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chamalet x black!reader #timothee x you #paul atredies smut #timothee chalamet smut #paul atreides x reader #timothee chamalet series #paul atredies series #paul atredies x you #angst #betrayal #IM SO SORRY TO THE PEOPLE WHO READ THIS!

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consistencynevermether · 6 months

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The Garden of Heroes- Astarion X Reader

content- gn! tav x Astarion. angst (but kinda more bittersweet), with a good ending. sfw. cannon typical violence but nothing extreme. soooo many character deaths. Astarion and tav forever endgame im sorry to this man he will not be moving on

Summary: Astarion learns how to live on after you and the others are gone.

word count- 2.4k

Out of your party, Karlach was the first to die. It wasn’t unexpected that she would go first. She was always headstrong, rushing into battle and putting the safety of others before herself. She died a hero's death, and so she was honored as such. After all, your group had saved Baldur's gate, and not just from the mindflayers. Even after, your party continued to do great deeds of heroism across the sword coast. Sometimes all together as a group, and sometimes as individuals. Regardless, Karlach was a hero, and so when they buried her, they erected a statue in a beautiful plot of land outside of Baldur's gate, which they titled “The Garden of heroes”. A beautiful name but also a melancholy one. A reminder that her statue would not be the last one to be built in this grove. Losing Karlach, it was painful for everyone, Astarion included.

But what really stuck with him was that garden's name. The promise it brought of more of his friends becoming just old statutes and legends. And of you, someone far more precious than a friend, becoming the same.

Wyll was the second to go. Taken from you all far too soon, just like Karlach. And just like her, he died as he lived, honorably. Despite everything in life that tried to extinguish his spirit, nothing could. He was happy and kind and loyal till the end of his days. When his statue was put up next to Karlach’s, everyone grieved. But over time when your hearts all healed a little, Wyll’s proud, tall, beautiful statue made Karlachs look less lonely, like she had a friend now, and there was a certain comfort in that. But there would be no comfort for Astarion when the next statue would be built.

Because the next one was you.

Tav. The great hero of the sword coast. Felled in battle. Your sacrifice had saved the world once again but left Astarion all alone.

You died far before your time. How far? Were you an elf who still had hundreds of years ahead of them? Were you a half-orc who only had maybe 20 or 30 left? Regardless, it was too soon. Astarion had thought he’d have more time. More time to come to terms with you leaving him. That he would be allowed to let you go, not have you ripped from his embrace by this cruel twist of fate.

And just like that, you were the 3rd statue in the Garden of Heroes. To everyone else that’s just how it was, another hero lost and life went on. But not for Astarion. The world seemed to stop for him.

He knew it would happen one day. He probably told himself he would go on living even without you, that he wouldn’t waste his life mourning someone when he could still live. After all, he deserved that, he had been alive so long and yet had barely begun to truly live. Yet the gaping hole that you left behind in his heart could never be filled.

Still, because of his experience with Cazador, he refused to let himself waste his freedom. Despite you being gone he didn’t want to stop living.

But he couldn’t bring himself to love again. Nobody could compare. No one’s laugh could make his heart flutter like yours, nobody’s kisses could be quite as sweet. You who loved him at his worst and showed him the light. You who reached out your hand to him, but ultimately let him become his own savior, letting it be his choice to be good. To feel good again. It was a tragedy that he had lost that love, something that made his world so much brighter. But he cherished the memories, and that made it easier to live on.

That is until the memories began to fade.

He doesn't know when it started. It was definitely after Gale and Lazel had joined you in the garden. Shadowheart too probably. After all, they were all only human, Giyth, and half-elf, at most the oldest of them could have been Shadowheart at 200 years or so, and Astarion couldn’t ever forget you in such a short amount of time.

He mourned all 3 of them of course, and Shadowheart’s lack of snark towards Astarion (which over the years had become just friendly banter) was missed. But it wasn’t the same as when he lost you.

But after decades of them being laid to rest in the Garden of Heroes, he’d started to forget little details of his former party members. But he remembered every detail of you. He heard your voice in his dreams, imagined your smile as he daydreamed, and wore a piece of your jewelry as a reminder. Even though you weren’t here anymore, he honored you.

But as the years went on, it became… twisted. Some nights Astarion would wake up in a cold sweat, muttering to himself as he tried desperately to remember what color your eyes were. Every night his dreams of you became more fuzzy with time, and every morning he clinged a little harder to the little reminders of you. In the end, he was no longer honoring you, but instead clinging to a memory. He had promised himself, promised you that he would continue to live. Yet ever since you left he had just been alive. He was spiraling.

Why what happened next transpired isn't exactly clear to Astarion. Maybe it was you from beyond the grave, maybe it was some god your party had helped before, or maybe it was just dumb luck. But by whatever force, he was sought out by a young group of adventurers looking for help.

They were inexperienced, reckless, and worked horribly together, which is exactly why they came seeking out one of the great heroes of the sword Coast, to help them. It was easy for Astarion to forget just how legendary he and his friends were. Don't get him wrong, he thought very highly of himself, but the way these inexperienced adventurers would look at him with wonder in their eyes whenever he mentioned your name, was…odd. On the one hand, it saddened him that you were nothing more than a mere legend now, but on the other, it gave him a strange sense of happiness knowing that your memory lived on, that even the people who didn't know you were influenced by you. And having a bunch of idiots to keep alive was strangely comforting. He often wondered if you had felt the same way when you had led the motley crew of tadpole-infected weirdos all those years ago, and it gave him a connection to you that made his heart ache, but in a good way.

It kept those nightmares at bay and kept the loneliness from consuming him. It's what he needed, that human connection, to stand up on his own two feet and keep going. It would never be the same, he knew that.

Sometimes, sitting around the campfire, eyes closed, he could almost feel like he was back there with you. The crackle and warmth of the fire, the overlapping voices in the background, the sound of the forest. Some things never changed, and sitting there, he could almost imagine you next to him, polishing some weapon next to him in the light of the campfire, its metallic glint bathing your features in warm orange.

And when he opened his eyes and saw that you weren't there, and hadn't been for decades now, he was ok. The pain did not consume him, the sadness did not break him, and the hurt felt good in a way because it showed how much he was loved, and how hard he loved you back in return.

Astarion wasn’t alone anymore. And he was able to truly live again. He imagined if you could see him now, you’d be quite proud. However, occasionally at night, his thoughts would wander to more than just imagining. In Faerun, there were many ways to speak with the deceased and even bring them back. But what stopped him was your last moments. Even now what you said was crystal clear, and would never fade no matter how many years went by, it echoed in his mind constantly:

“My only regret is leaving you behind.”

As much as it hurt to be alone, Astarion knew that you were satisfied with the life you lived. And loathe he was to admit it, deep down he always knew that if he suggested some way to make you immortal to stay with him, you would decline. You burned brightly and fast, it’s who you were. You lived your life the way you wanted to, and it wasn’t his right to drag you back up with him. He knew this. But it didn’t make the thought any less tempting.

Whenever that temptation arose, he found solace in a bit of a strange place. Or more accurately, person. Halsin. Astarion and Halsin were never terribly close, the two just had quite different personalities. Not that there was any real bad blood, just never that closeness he felt with some of the others. But as the years went by, he and Halsin became the only two people left of the original group, and that caused them to share a few bittersweet bonding moments.

Halsin was one of the few people Astarion could reminisce with. Not only that but someone who loved so freely yet lived so long the way Halsin did made him good at dealing with loss and grieving in a healthy way, something Astarion didn’t always excel at. So he frequently went to visit the Archdruid, and Halsin was always happy to see his old friend. After a while, they even started a tradition, once every 10 years the two of them would travel to the Garden of Heroes together. Not many words were spoken during those trips, but it meant a great deal to both of them.

All too fast it seemed, the pair had visited the grove dozens of times. And every time Astarion couldn’t help but notice Halsin had more and more gray hair with each passing visit. Elves were long-living, but not immortal. Halsin would soon be gone from this world too.

At this point, Astarion could handle the loss. He had learned to deal with the short lifespans of those around him, at this point the young heroes he had once traveled with after your passing were now seasoned, veteran warriors, or had passed themselves. It wouldn't be the loss of Halson that broke Astarion, it would be the fact that he would truly be the last of you all.

After Halsin's passing, nobody knew enough about your group anymore to erect a statue of him in the garden. It had been centuries and you had faded from legend to myth. Ancient heroes of days gone past. So Astarion decided to take matters into his own hands and learned to carve stone.

What? He was an immortal after all, he had eternity to perfect the craft. For decades he’d bring in stone slabs and practice carving, his reasoning being that no way in hell was he lugging around a Halsin-sized statue, but really your own statue looking over him gave him a sense of comfort. And when he had perfected carving stone, he sought other reasons to stay in the garden. After so many years it had become neglected and overgrown, so Astarion took it upon himself to take care of the place.

After decades of staying in this garden turned to centuries, he began to become a legend in his own right. But not the heroic type you were known as. No, the tales people spun about him were quite depressing. He became known as the caretaker of the Garden of Heroes, and many theorized as to why he did this, spun many a dramatic and tragic tale to be told at the local bar or to gossip about with friends. He’d almost feel insulted, but he rarely left the garden anyway. Being there made him happy, and after so many centuries alive, that’s really what his main pursuit was now. Just happiness. It wasn’t truly living, not entirely. But he had done so much living, far more than even the longest-living elf had ever done, and he figured it was ok now. To just be happy was enough.

There were rare times when he left the garden, when people came there asking for his help, or when there was a major threat to Baldur's gate, he would offer his aid. The centuries of living never seemed to dull his blade, and with everything he had seen and accomplished, there was no doubt Astarion was one of the most skilled people alive. He truly was a hero from ancient times.

That’s probably why his death was even more legendary than yours.

To lose a hero was tragic. But to lose someone who had lived for so long, known so much, seen so much, it was a different type of melancholy for the people of Faerun. Like they had lost an ancient protector. For someone who seemed mysterious, infallible, and all-knowing to fall was a scary thing in some ways. But it wasn’t also without honor.

The people of Baldur's Gate who lived during the time Astarion died probably had no idea why the garden was so important to him. But they did know it was important. So when he died saving Faerun, much like you had done oh so many centuries ago, they decided the most respectful thing to do was return his body to the garden to be laid to rest. Some even debated that he should have his own statue erected in the garden. Ultimately these people didn’t know the significance of this place, who stood here, and why Astarion cared for it, so they decided it would be best to simply return the body. Though later a statue of Astarion would be put up inside Balurs Gate, along with a plaque. maybe people would remember him a little longer than they had remembered you. But everyone fades to the sands of time eventually. Every legend is told one last time.

Luckily for the rouge vampire spawn, his legend didn't end with his death. It ended when he opened his eyes a few moments later, a gentle touch awakening him. The feeling of fingers running through his curls, and he knew. He knew immediately. No matter how many centuries apart, he could never not recognize your touch. He didn't know where he was, where he ended up after death, but it truly didn't matter to him in this moment. Because wherever he was, you were there with him. After so many years of looking up at your statue, its face faded and details lost to time, he finally got to see the real thing again. He got to know the color of your eyes once more. And in Astarion’s book, that was the best ending he could have gotten.

#astarion fic #astarion romance #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion my beloved #astarion angst #astarion fanfic

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whimsicalpoet44 · 1 year

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Sorry I've been M.I.A. I've been processing a lot of grief and have had a lot of unexpected life changes (unrelated to grief).

Soooo, to cheer myself up here's some random astro observations.

Random Astrology Observations

These are based on my experiences, and not every one of these will apply to someone else with the same placements. This is just my own observations!

Note: If I use the word Karma, I mean the concept that you get back what you give to others. I want to be respectful about using the term and wanted to make sure I'm distinguishing it separately from the religious meaning of the word. I haven't found a great alternative for it even after searching extensively, so if anyone knows one please let me know! I know it's been westernized and I hate that. ☹️

⚡️ Anyone with 3rd House placements will likely encounter issues with their siblings at some point or another. They could live in their siblings shadows, been tasked to take care of them, or just never got a long with them altogether. This can play out in a hundred different ways, though.

⚡️ We talk a lot about repercussions for messing with a person who has Saturn in the 4th/8th/12th House. But Saturn in the 2nd? I almost feel like it's worse.

I know a person with Saturn in the 2nd who was being mistreated by an authority figure. The person mistreating her was getting a degree in higher education. By the time the two parted ways, the person mistreating her had her entire reputation completely obliterated, rendering her higher degree completely useless in her career field as a result. And the person with Saturn in the 2nd told nobody about the individual's behavior.

Saturn won't just come for their finances, they'll come for anything of value. Six months later, that individual was divorced, selling her home, and was pushed out of the organization she worked in. It was genuinely shocking lol

⚡️ As a person works through their Lilith sign, their appearance can change. Not just physically, but their overall vibe. They'll feel like a different person. And it's because they've owned their inner power.

⚡️ Scorpio Placements are so powerful, but they often stand in their own way. They can manifest basically anything, but their self deprecating tendencies can hold them back from attaining it.

⚡️ If the Universe pairs a Capricorn Rising and a Scorpio Rising to hold a person accountable for their shitty behavior, you know whoever that person is really messed up. Both of these rising signs hold heavy karma, one from Saturn and one from Pluto. It's actually quite a beautiful sight to behold if the person is deserving. I've seen this on many occasions and when both are through, there's nothing left standing.

Both individuals also always figure out about halfway through the divine intervention that they play a far greater role than they realize and it's a lesson for the two individuals to step into their own power as well.

When we try to be the 'better' person, sometimes we're denying the person who wronged us the accountability they deserve.

⚡️ In a synastry chart, aspects to Lilith, South Node, Chiron, and Juno can indicate potential soul contracts if you know where to look. (If you're soulmates/twin flames/karmic partners/etc). Of course there are other indicators as well.

⚡️ Sagittarius placements are seen as hopeful and positive, but a lot of the times, they're full of doom and gloom. They avoid their problems by doing whatever they want. Many of them never planned out a long-term future because they never saw themselves reaching that point of their lives, rendering them in a disaster they have to clean up and build themselves back from the bottom up. Which they do successfully. They never really lose hope, but they avoid responsibility until they can't anymore.

⚡️ Aquarius/11th House Placements fight a life long battle of trying to be themselves and not fit the mold their parents laid out for them. They only find true happiness when they realize their life path isn't for everyone and it relies on the fact that they must be who they really are.

⚡️ Aries Placements get a lot of hate, but if they react from a healthy place, they make some of the best advocates I've ever seen. I think it's because they have an endless supply of energy and healthy anger to tap into to make sure everything is getting addressed correctly.

⚡️ Leo Placements cannot escape attention. It follows them. They are usually forced to reconcile with it and learn to work through the uncomfortable feeling associated with it.

⚡️ If you have a planet that's in the same sign as your Chiron (or conjunct), prepare for that area of your life to be a complete dumpster fire until you find a healthy way to work through the Chiron wounds.

⚡️ If you tell a Scorpio something they don't want to hear, they'll just change the subject. Then they'll come back to you in 6 months and tell you that you were right, but they'll never outright say the words "you were right."

⚡️ I'm pairing Libra, Pisces, and Cancer together to work through their people pleasing phase, because once they do, they can flip a switch and cut someone off without a second thought. That's when they unlock their inner power and begin to set healthy boundaries.

⚡️ Taurus Risings have a lot of great qualities to them (and I do love them), but I've seen a lot of praise for Taurus Risings who also have Scorpio placements. While I can see the benefits, every Taurus Rising with Scorpio Placements that I've ever met (and I've oddly met a few) have created their own personal prison in their minds when it comes to trusting others and opening up. They won't crack. They are lock and key. They can express they want to be vulnerable, but they often don't know how. (Again, this is just my oddly specific experience lol) They also struggle with finding safety in materialism, while also feeling empty because they crave more spiritual interactions.

⚡️ Gemini and Sag placements always feel chronically misunderstood. I've also never met a single Gemini/Sag that wasn't diagnosed with ADHD or was a burnt out gifted kid. A couple of my friends that tried to prove me wrong came to me about 2 years later with a diagnosis in their 30s. 😂 (again, just my experience)

⚡️ Virgo North Node - How's that career in healthcare going? 😂 Jk, not everyone with a Virgo North Node is in healthcare, but it's a lot of you. lol

⚡️ Capricorns are some of the most anxious people I've ever met. They just hide it really well. It most likely stems from whatever they went through in childhood.

⚡️ Virgo placements often carry this stereotype that they're uptight and anxious (with a lot of control issues). As a person that used to work in the mental health field, every Virgo I ever met did have anxiety, but it wasn't 😢anxiety😢. It was ✨anxiety ✨. They are some of the funniest people I've ever interacted with. And they did have the stereotypical Virgo traits, but there was a layer of sarcasm to it. They're hands down some of my favorite people. A lot of them are oddly cat people too, which is weird, because I see a lot of people associate Virgos with dogs. (though it's really both since virgo rules small pets)

⚡️ Ever Sag had a horse phase. I don't make the rules. 😂

⚡️ Cancer placements likely struggled with bullying in childhood. I swear it's because other kids can sniff out their sensitive nature and try to exploit them. They always end up surprised when Cancer placements stand up for themselves, though. I would never want to cross a Cancer placement because they'll find the time and patience to extract revenge. People forget about their cold side.

⚡️ Leo Sun, Virgo Moon, and Scorpio Rising are the ultimate big three combo. And weirdly, I know a lot of people with these placements. They trigger others without trying. They just exist and people literally hate them. They have a strong sense of justice and they're very methodical and practical. It's excellent.

#astro observations #astrology observations #astrology

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lvrslvt3 · 1 year

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LOVE IS A CHOICE | h. lewis

main masterlist | youtuber masterlist

pairings : harry lewis x reader

summary : harry’s insecurities causes the downfall of his own relationship.

warnings : swearing, arguing, just a whole of sadness.

notes : thanks for all the love on my first harry fic (and my first fic ever) i greatly appreciate it!!

“walk out of that door,” you pointed your finger in the direction of your flat door, “and we’re fucking done. i mean it, harry.” you threat with your voice very audibly shaking with the overwhelming emotions you were experiencing.

he felt awful, seeing you in this state, but his mind was set. this would be better for you no matter how much it hurt at first. you would come to your senses quickly and live a better life and he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for that.

harry stopped just as he was about to walk away from you, from your life together, to prepare himself for the heavy lie about to be forced through his lips — one that would break his heart just as it will yours.

slowly, he turned his head back to face you. “you can’t end anything that was never there.” your face immediately broke, and his heart broke so violently he was surprised it didn’t create any noise. there was no coming back from this.

you shook her head and opened your mouth but nothing came out except a small, choking sob that you quickly covered up by closing your mouth again. you weren’t going to break down infront of him, you wanted to look strong.

he didn’t deserve to see that he had so clearly hit a nerve, that he had just broken down the girl he had previously built back up. you just needed him to leave so you could be alone.

finally, he turned again and left your flat with a loud slam of the front door. your sobs echoed through his head as the door closed behind him for good — now he had to face the future alone.

the more harry didn’t want you, the harder you tried. however, the harder you tried the more he didn’t want you. you didn’t know what you had done to deserve the treatment you had received from him that night. there was only thing you knew for sure; you couldn’t let it break you. atleast not on the outside.

so, in hopes of proving to everyone you was coping well you had agreed to a brunch date with talia in which you both sat at the back of a restaurant and spoke of your feelings. you had tried to avoid the topic but talia knew you to well.

she was the only one you could confide in. she was the only shoulder you let myself sob into when you couldn’t pretend to be okay anymore. she was your rock through it all. talia understood it was more than a breakup you were experiencing; it was grief of losing harry lewis.

your closest friend, sat across from you, swirled her plastic straw around her glass cup, glancing up at you after taking a sip. “do you still love him?” she questioned in a gentle tone that made you want to start crying again.

you didn’t answer properly at first. you hummed just before you took a large sip of your drink infront of you to try and delay the inevitable. talia would not leave you alone until she knew you were okay.

a mere three seconds later, a hand landed on top of yours, rubbing over the skin on top and taking you away from your own consuming thoughts. talia held your hand until you finally found the courage to answer out loud truthfully.

“i don’t think i’ll ever stop.” you words seemed to upset talia. it only proved how much she cared for you — that she felt your emotions with you to let you know you weren’t alone in this. “i just don’t know if we’re meant for each other.”

talia gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “you should speak to him.” she advised you, “maybe you’re not meant for each other now, but end it in good terms just incase.”

you weren’t sure wether or not to go along with her advice, but at the end of the day you knew that you couldn’t move on from him properly without knowing what you had done to destroy your relationship.

harry answered your late night text straight away and agreed to come over to yours only the next day. infact, he arrived an hour earlier than you both had agreed upon. mostly because he was too nervous to wait around.

now, you stood across from your ex boyfriend with only the kitchen island to separate you from eachother. you leaned against the counter in hopes it would keep you upright throughout this tough conversation that neither of you were ready for.

“did i do anything to make you stop loving me?” the questioned rolled off of your tongue as if it was a casual conversation topic, like you were talking about what to have for dinner instead of why your relationship fell apart so quickly.

harry couldn’t meet your eyes. instead, he was fixating on the ground beneath him. “i never stopped loving you.” finally he met your adamant gaze, “i just…” he shrugged as he tried to find his words, “if i don’t like who i am, why should you?”

you hung your head down onto your hands. you was beyond stressed. you had finally pieced it together — he didn’t stop loving you but instead stopped loving himself, which led to lots of miscommunication. however, you felt that surely he loved you enough to not let you go.

“but how could you leave me so easily?” you pestered him once again, causing his jaw to clench tightly and his eyes to move away from you once again. other than that his body was rigid, as if he was afraid to move.

he had planned this whole conversation out. he knew how this needed to end for your sake and he was willing to do anything for it. even if that meant going through this.

“it’s not easy, y/n, but it’s for the better.” harry finally looked up at his ex girlfriend that had been staring at him the whole time — looking exceedingly dejected. “you have to understand i don’t want to do this, i need to.”

“harry—“

“please, y/n.” harry interrupted you with an begging tone in his voice, “you don’t deserve me, you don’t deserve this,” he used his hand to gesture between the both of you, “i love you, i always will, but this doesn’t feel right.”

he began to grow frustrated. he shook his hands while he spoke in a way to try and get his correct emotions across without making this situation any worse than it already was. “please, y/n.” he turned desperate.

you didn’t want to argue anymore, he wasn’t changing his mind no matter what you said or did. his mind was set on leaving you no matter how much it hurt you to admit to yourself. you didn’t know if what you both had was true love, but it was the closest you had ever gotten.

“okay, harry.” you spoke with a despondent glaze over your eyes, you had lost all hope. you walked over to the other side to stand by harry, “whatever you need.” your voice broke through the sentence.

harry stood there, looking at the woman he loves, his heart heavy with longing despite their current situation. you looked back at him, your eyes locking, and you both knew what the other was feeling. despite all of it, you still had a feeling of mutual respect and understanding for harry.

he leaned closer, to try and kiss you, but before he can you pulled away. “i can’t.” your voice was merely above a whisper. the words still left harry speechless while you turned and walked away. leaving him in the kitchen staring at where you had disappeared to, looking mournful.

love is just not a feeling. it’s a choice that people made every day, and you had to chose to stop expressing your love for harry so he could learn to love himself properly. he needed to be there for himself to enjoy what you two had.

nothing compared to harry, but you would wait for him.

#youtuber x reader #harry lewis #harry lewis x reader #harrylewisimagines #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw #w2s #w2s x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #youtube fanfic #youtube #sidemen

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mrsbbradshaw · 2 years

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Who's the better Kazansky ?

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem! Kazansky reader

Warnings : Top Gun Maverick Spoilers, Character death, angst if you squint, fluff

Synopsis : When the news of her father's death arrived, of all people that turned to her comfort, Bradley was the last person she expected to console her.

"You're joining the navy ? Are you insane ?"

"Like father like daughter ?" She raised her brows, smiling at the admiral.

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky stroked his chin, eyeing his daughter who he knew had so much potential in becoming a pilot. He had always wanted his daughter to figure out life on her own, it was against his parenting rules to push her into following his footsteps but there she was in front of him, telling the 1985 Top Gun graduate that she wanted to be just like him.

She's a wild with a free spirit, the admiral's daughter was always breaking rules, she was always getting into trouble, getting into fights, going home with injuries and cuts here and there made her earn a few scoldings from her parents, especially her mother saying things like "you're a girl for God's sake !". Tom Kazansky knew she got that from him and as she grew older, he knew there was nothing he could do to change her as a person.

He would always scoff, his daughter was a living copy of his friend, Maverick. The only difference between those two is their ego.

A smile began to form on his lips. Standing up from his seat,

"It's gonna be a long journey ahead, Kazansky"

"Tom ! What are you thinking ? She can die out there ! She's not like you !" His wife complained, practically shouting to him to change his mind, only if he knew how many sleepless nights his wife has suffered over the years with the fear of the naval officer pilot not returning after a mission.

"I think you underestimate the power of the Kazanskys" He chuckled snakily, pulling his daughter into a hug.

"You're gonna be one hell of a pilot, sweetie"

'Y/N Kazansky'

'Frosty'

A call sign that slightly resembled her father's.

People in the navy said she got it from her 'cold' personality, but she would always disagree. In fact, she gets comfortable with people easily, except one man.

Bradley Bradshaw, AKA "Rooster".

She could remember being the best of friends with him throughout middle school, at some point she had a crush on him. That was until he sold her out to the principal, earning a suspension from school when she was defending a bully.

"Violence is dangerous, Kazansky, YOU'RE dangerous." He told her.

They became sworn enemies ever since, exchanging snarky remarks and insults to each other and by the time the two of them applied to the navy, she didn't want to lose against him.

But, there was a turning point.

Her heart dropped hearing that Bradley's papers were pulled from other applicants. She had thought that they would've been in the navy together.

In terms of who pulled his papers were kept from her. Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell did not want her to find out that Maverick was the cause of Bradley's career postponement.

She remembered staying in the corner of a room alone after the news of the successful applicants came out.

'Bradley didn't deserve this' she thought.

They were enemies, yeah, but it was only to his eyes. Did she hate him ? no. Does he hate her ? probably.

She was over the snitching thing after a month, but it looked like Bradley doesn't want to be her friend anymore as he gradually started avoiding her.

That's when she thought that he was going to make himself regret for letting her go and the competitiveness began.

On the other hand

There was only one person Bradley hoped would see him. He thought that she was at least going to comfort him and put their problems in the past. He was ready to start fresh with her but she never came to see him.

Y/n had only stopped being competitive because there was no one left she wanted to beat so bad. Never once had she ever meet him during those times she was in the Fighter Weapons School.

This was the point which made Bradley think that their friendship was done for good. He had developed this mindset that the only reason why her papers weren't pulled was because of her admiral father.

He scoffed at the thought, 'It's a good thing she has a father'

Little did he knew, when she let her guard down because of him, he ultimately became ahead of her over time.

Lieutenant Kazansky eyed her name tag, sitting inside the locker room alone with a drooped posture, her face turned downwards towards her uniform.

The news of her father's incurable illness had just reached her.

She closed her eyes tightly, releasing a deep breath. A tear slid town from her eyes, her hands still grasping her uniform.

Crestfallen, she realised that her father's days were numbered.

"It's okay if you want to take some time off and spend the rest of the time with your father, Kazansky"

She wiped her tears, hearing her superior's voice. Turning to face him, she quickly stood up and replied him.

"No sir, with all due respect, I have a duty and a country to serve, I would appreciate it if I have the chance of continuing my job, sir"

"Very well Kazansky"

She rarely see her father after the news broke out, she didn't want to see him in that state, even speaking hurts, her mother told her while begging her numerous times to come home and she did, sometimes.

Each time she gets home and meet her sick father, They would always have a heart-felt conversation and the proud smile on his face would always reappear when his daughter comes home.

He would always smile looking at her in her uniform, eyeing her name tag which resembles to his. 'Frosty' and 'Iceman'. And she would always break down after each visit.

She went home again the time she was called back to Top Gun for a mission.

"I've been called back, Dad"

Tom Kazansky turned his body to type

'I know'

"So you were the one who recommended me to them ?"

Tom furrowed his brows, typing onto his keyboard again

'Of course not, they wanted the best of the best'

"So you didn't do anything ?"

'I told you, you're gonna be one hell of a pilot'

"What if I don't come home ?"

Tom immediately shook his head

'you must. I put my trust in someone I know who will make the mission a success and bring you all home in one piece'

"Will he be there ?" She asked her dad, He raised his brows and in an instant he knew who she was talking about.

"You still like him don't you ?"

"Of course not !" The younger Kazansky knitted her brows, glaring at the man in front of her. She was in denial, lying to herself and everyone but she knew that deep down she had feelings for Bradley Bradshaw

"You can lie to everyone, but not me."

The admiral stood up from his seat, walking towards his daughter who was still in uniform, Y/n stood up to help her father which he declined.

Iceman patted his daughter's shoulder with his palms, smiling again. The proud look that would never disappear whenever he saw her. He grabbed her hand to stroke it.

"you two...should...rekindle"

"I want...a grandchild...before I go"

Y/n playfully hit her father, earning a chuckle from him.

"I have a question, dad"

Her dad eyed her, to ask what it was

"Who's the better Kazansky ?"

Iceman chuckled, opening his mouth to answer

"We'll answer that...when you get home...."

He then pulled his daughter into a tight hug, a hug so warm and welcoming that she did not want it to be over.

"Good luck....sweetie"

-----

The moment that she saw him enter from the Hard Deck's entrance, she could immediately recognise his face even when he was wearing sunglasses.

He became more attractive over the years she didn't see him. He definitely grew taller and his shoulders grew broader. He had a clean, neatly trimmed and tidy moustache that suited him, and the Hawaiian shirt that he wore only made him even more charming.

It was the same for him, when he stepped into the bar, the first person he could spot was her. She became more gorgeous, her striking features of her face were captivating, her smile is magnetic, making himself almost forget the time when his heart raced when she smiled at him.

He hate to admit but he missed her, so much.

"Bradshaw" she greeted first

"Kazansky" The flat tone that he used to reply to her was a sign that he still didn't like her. He was nice to everyone but her...and Hangman.

Years of not seeing each other, They were still avoiding each other.

"You got beef with Bradshaw ?" Hangman asked her, opening a bottle of beer then passing it onto her

"Just some old stuff" The two of them eyed the man who was heading for the piano.

"Well it doesn't look like 'just some old stuff' when he replied you"

"Get off my ass, Hangman" she rolled her eyes at him when she could recognise the familiar chords on the piano that Bradley was playing.

She knew this song anyway.

'You brought my wheel, but what a thrill'

'Goodness gracious great balls of fire !"

The whole bar cheered up as they started singing the song which included Kazansky who stood close beside Bradley. For a moment, for one night

Every differences between them were put aside, enjoying themselves for one night, one night before they were snapped back into reality.

One night before their training for a highly intense mission started with Maverick as their instructor.

That night was before Hangman decided to expose Bradshaw and Maverick that he was flying with Nick Bradshaw AKA "Goose" When Bradley's father died.

"That's enough !" Maverick yelled, attempting to break out the fight that almost occurred.

She was one of the people that held Rooster back. They weren't on good terms, neither were they talking to each other but Hangman was out of the line.

The night at the Hard Deck was before Phoenix, Bob and Coyote almost lost their lives.

The evening that they went to the infirmary, She decided that she needed to get closure from Bradley, she thought that they should be working as a team and having beef in between them in highly unprofessional and childish.

She overheard a heated argument between Maverick and Bradley that hindered the two of them from having a conversation.

"Kazansky" Her superior, Warlock called

"yes sir ?"

His face was gloomy, full of sorrow. He had this look of sorrow that was written all over his face. With a heavy heart, he broke the news to her.

"It's your father"

She knew. She instantly knew what had happened. She immediately knew that he was going to tell her that her father has passed away.

A hush fell as she hung her head lowly, her eyes filled with tears that escaped, staining her cheeks. She blinked away the tears, only for it to blur her vision, letting out a deep breath, replying to Warlock

"Thank you...for telling me sir..."

Her superior then went to the room beside where they were standing to break the news towards Maverick and Bradley.

The two men stepped out from the room after a heated argument with a tragic news.

He could see her from the corner of his eyes, she was standing still, eyes looking at her foot with her fist closed. His eyes softened, he could only imagine what she must be going through. He knew what it was like to lose a father. Bradley knew how close Y/n was with her father.

She turned to face him with her tear stained face, His heart ached to see her like this, to see her miserable face. Y/n walked away from Warlock, Maverick and Rooster towards the locker room where she would be alone, isolated.

The atmosphere of the locker room which used to be light and bright became so silent. Seating alone in darkness, she recalled her last moments with her father .

"Good Luck, Sweetie"

That was the last time she could ever meet him, talk to him, hug him...

She knew that his days were numbered, she knew that he didn't have a lot of time left but what she didn't expect was death being so cruel.

Bleakness completely engulfing her. She felt her throat closing up, sighing heavily, letting her head drop, She buried her face into her palms, the tears continued to stream down.

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky is dead.

-----

She wasn't a soldier that day. She was a daughter.

The tears that were on the edge of her eyes only dropped when her mother received an American flag and when his casket was lowered down.

Then she was alone again after the funeral, she said she wanted to be alone to her mother.

"You'll always be the better Kazansky, dad..."

Looking at his grave stone, she could hear a familiar voice rung through her ears

"Still here ?"

She wasn't alone then...

"Spare your insults for another day, Goddamit Bradshaw"

"I'm not here for insults, Y/n" He took of his peaked cap, taking a step closer to her.

"Your father was a good man"

"He was..."

His eyes observed her facial expression, the wind blowing on her face, the weather, dark and gloomy, he could see her clearly and up close after years of not seeing each other.

Grief.

That was the only thing he could see from her.

The two stood by beside each other, there was a moment of silence between the two of them before she spoke up, still looking at the admiral's headstone.

"Why are you still here ?"

"I don't know" He answered

"You don't know ?" she scoffed, asking him a question

"You know what were his last words to me ?"

"'You two should rekindle' was what he said" It was only at this time did she turn to eye him.

"I tried to understand it, I tried to...I knew he didn't- he didn't have a lot of time and I-, I didn't want to see him so much after finding out, I couldn't- I couldn't-"

Bradley listened to her, his eyes were soft and he was attentive. He noticed that her eyes were getting wet with tears.

"Shit, I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to him" she chewed her lower lip, then she just mumbled incoherent things through her hands and choked on her sobs.

Bradley gambled his whole life on the next thing he was about to do.

"Come here" he walked towards her, closing the space between them with a hug from him. Bradley stroked her hair gently as an act of comfort.

His mother did this to him when his father died, it was his turn to comfort someone he cares about.

"Let it out, let it all out" He spoke tenderly while she began to sob harder on his chest, tears of pain running down her cheeks.

This was the first time that they hugged in probably a decade. No, this hug was different. All the times they hugged before, it was playful, this time she felt warm, like a blanket wrapped around her, a feeling of complete comfort. She felt safe around his arms.

"I'm here...I'm here even when I can't make it better..."

"Don't go anywhere, Bradley"

"I'm not...day or night, I'll always be here..."

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #pete mitchell #hangman #phoenix #miles teller #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #Bradley Bradshaw #rooster top gun

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redjayson · 24 days

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oh boy, now that chapter 17 is posted I can talk about some of the extras that I want to write in full at some point! since that’s rather far off in the future (and probably a lot of work when second-hand alibis still has its own Incredible Amount of Work left), have some quick and dirty snippets/ideas of what they might look like.

first one is a "su xiyan lives" spin-off:

exactly what it says on the tin. shen yuan makes a deal with the system (which would have to be somewhat less strict in this scenario) or he gets his hands on a macguffin or something and manages to make it to the luo river in time to help su xiyan through luo binghe’s birth and save her life afterwards

that, then, leaves them both desperately injured with a (somewhat unhappy) baby in the middle of winter when huan hua is undoubtably searching for them and their only allies probably think shen yuan and su xiyan betrayed them

shen yuan has the bright idea to lead them down the river to the washerwoman who was luo binghe’s adopted mother in proud immortal demon way. she’s kind enough to take them in, softened immensely by the baby and by how injured and grief-stricken shen yuan and su xiyan are

shen yuan and su xiyan slap up every (subtle) barrier and disguise and warding talisman that they can possibly think of to help hide them from any huan hua searchers, before collapsing from the expenditure of energy. shen yuan possibly uses his altered-but-no-longer-untested body-stasis talisman on su xiyan, who is predictably Not Amused by the recklessness of shen yuan having used this on himself, but it gives them more time to handle the poison while also allowing su xiyan’s qi to replenish itself and hold off the effects of the poison trying to kill her while they find an actual cure for it (assuming shen yuan's macguffin/system deal wasn't enough)

they both heal. they help around the house as much as possible, and gift the washerwoman with as much money as she’ll take from them, which is far less than she deserves for all the kindness she’s showing them. eventually, they’re healed enough to begin moving again, and they judge that it’s likely too dangerous to stay this close to huan hua any longer.

before they go, though, there’s the matter of tianlang-jun. they debate for days—is it too dangerous to try and check on him? do they think zhuzhi-lang was sealed as well? what happens if they’re captured by huan hua? what will happen to binghe? (yes, luo binghe ended up with the same name as canon. shen yuan only suggested the “binghe” portion of the name, but su xiyan came up with and ran with the “luo” portion of it, because it’s far too conspicuous for a child to be running around with her surname, isn’t it? shen yuan, twin brother of shen qingqiu, keeps his mouth shut.)

in the end, they decide that they’ll take their chances now, while there’s still enough chaos and confusion from the end of the battle + setting up how the guard on tianlang-jun is going to look long-term for them to get close. better yet, if they can find zhuzhi-lang, then they won’t even have to get all the way to bailu mountain.

whatever happens, it ends up being a bit of a mess. zhuzhi-lang is not happy, but shen yuan has spent years being one of his favorite people, and both he and su xiyan are still moving pretty gingerly when they manage to find him. in the end, zhuzhi-lang believes what they tell him about the betrayals committed against them, too, and agrees to carry the news to tianlang-jun (and plead their case, should he prove unwilling to listen).

after that…su xiyan and shen yuan beat feet out of huan hua territory, taking binghe (and possibly the washerwoman!) with them to live a life as rogue cultivators. cue years of sneaking back into bailu forest to visit zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun and try to figure out the best way to help tianlang-jun escape. shen yuan helps zhuzhi-lang get ahold of some sun and moon dew mushrooms, but warns that unless they experiment wildly and are also exceedingly lucky, the mushroom body will fail pretty quickly with a demon inhabitant instead of a human one.

I imagine that this au would either end up as a su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan throuple, or zhuzhi-lang might finally shoot his shot with shen yuan and actually get somewhere with it. I lean toward su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan, just because there’s only so many times you can pretend to be married with a child, spending literal years working toward a common goal and in close proximity and with shared fondness, before you fall into an actual relationship. tianlang-jun is on board with this when it’s explained to him—shen yuan is great! (the wife-beam strikes again, it just took a little bit longer with tianlang-jun because he was so focussed on su xiyan)

also it’s deeply funny to imagine shen yuan reuniting with shen jiu (+ yue qingyuan) and cang qiong mountain sect and boldly gesturing toward binghe and declaring, “this is my son.” yeah, this carbon copy of su xiyan, with eyes that are notably not hers or shen yuan’s? suuure. the other peak lords aren’t going to argue, though, because shen qingqiu looks way too willing to fight them (read: yell at them) about it, and that’s almost never worth it. plus, like, what do they care?

shen qingqiu, notably, doesn’t believe that luo binghe is shen yuan’s biological son, but apparently he is shen yuan’s adopted son (son by marriage?), so it’s really all the same thing. he’s doing some math about the tianlang-jun situation (as is yue qingyuan) and not liking the answers that he’s come up with, but if shen yuan wants to keep the child, then let him. better to allow a half-demon on his mountain than to lose his brother again.

shang qinghua is losing his shit in the background. you did what with my protagonist’s parents?! my cabbages plot!!!

#fic: second-hand alibis #my fic #shen twins au #shen twins extras #svsss

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 7 months

Text

Corpse Bride

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dead!Reader

Word Count: ~6.6k

Warnings: marrying the dead, if you've seen the movie, then you know what to expect. if you haven't seen the movie, then go watch it. it's amazing

Summary: Your hopes and dreams were taken from you in the blink of an eye. You're destined to spend eternity in the viel, waiting for your Prince Charming to show up. When he does, he claims it was a mistake. How can you convince him to stay? Will you get your second chance at love?

Square Filled: character death (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: this is one of my favorite movies, so I decided to write a story based on it.

Spencer paces the forest floor nervously with the engagement ring in his hand. He’s been a nervous wreck ever since he asked his short-term girlfriend to marry him. He’s not ready for marriage whatsoever but his parents and her parents think this marriage is a good thing and will benefit both families. His family is well off while hers is a bit poor. Her family owns a business Spencer’s parents want a part of, so if he scratches her back, she scratches his.

No matter what he does, he can’t seem to get it right. The vows are pretty easy to remember but he can’t seem to get the words out. He likes Maeve a lot and there is potential for love later on down the road but his parents want this to happen now. He left the rehearsal wedding to be on his own to gather his thoughts and feelings about this whole thing.

“I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a husband. What were my parents thinking?” he thinks out loud. “I like Maeve. I like how she makes me feel but is she ready to be a wife? Does she even want this?”

Spencer paces back and forth with the ring in his hand.

“Come on, Spencer! What am I saying? I can’t do this to Maeve. She deserves everything good coming her way. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I were to walk out on her now? I can do this. Just take it one step at a time.”

Spencer straightens and fixes his tie to make himself look more presentable even though there is no one around but him. He raises his right hand confidently and begins his vows.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrow.” He grabs a branch nearby and pretends it’s Maeve’s delicate one. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He breaks off the branch and pretends it’s the cup of wine he’ll have to lift and drink from at the actual wedding. He walks over to a small stump and pretends it’s a candle that he will have to light. “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” He drops the branch and looks over at a set of vines that looks like a human hand. He grabs it gently and takes out the ring so he can slide it on one of the small sticks protruding from the base. “With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

He slides the ring onto one of the sticks and pulls away with a satisfied smile. This is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’ve laid to rest in this forest for almost half a decade just waiting for your Prince Charming to finally come save you. The one you were with did you dirty but you were okay with waiting for the right one to come by, and he’s finally here. The ring he slid on your finger is shiny and delicate just like your feelings.

Spencer looks around the empty forest and decides it’s best if he goes back to his family and does the wedding rehearsal right. Just as he is about to grab the ring, the branch crackles to life. He jumps back in shock as the ground shakes with vigor. The ground cracks and opens to give you enough room to crawl out of your shallow grave.

Spencer yells in shock when he sees a deadly hand shoot up from the ground. It’s like a scene from The Living Dead coming to life. You claw your way out of your grave and stand to your full height, and you grin at the ring on your skeleton finger. Your entire left arm is just your bones as the flesh had been eaten off previously. Your right arm is covered with sickly grey flesh that hasn’t yet been devoured. Most of your body still contains your flesh with holes showing your bones. You’re wearing a dirty white wedding dress that was your mother’s. It goes all the way down to your feet but has a slit in the front of it that goes up to your mid-thigh. It shows off both your legs when you walk--one flesh and one completely bare to the bone.

If Spencer didn’t know any better, he might have thought you were someone from a movie with a bunch of makeup on you. However, he just saw you claw your way back to the surface of Earth like it was nothing.

“My, oh my! What a beautiful ring!” you sing and dance happily around your new husband. Hearing you speak breaks Spencer out of a trance. He quickly gets up and starts running away from you, scared for his life. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Spencer is fast when he thinks his life is in danger, but you know these woods like the back of your hand. You used to sneak out here with your fiance to get away from your lives. That’s back when you thought you were going to be happy for the rest of your life. There are plentiful shortcuts to get to the entrance into the forest, so you take those to catch up to Spencer.

He pants heavily and decides to take a break right on the bridge that separates the town from the forest. He looks behind him but you’re not there. He thinks he’s safe so he turns to walk back into town but stops when you’re right in front of him. He yells and jumps back but you’re not letting him go this time.

“I do. You may not kiss the bride,” you smile.

You grab him and lean in to kiss him but he faints in your arms. You’ve never seen a person faint before. There is someone who can help so you use your deadly powers to summon yourself back into the underworld with Spencer in hand.

“Y/N! New arrival?” your best friend Marcy asks.

“No, it’s my husband.”

“Husband? That dick returned?”

“No, silly. His name is Spencer. He said his vows perfectly and gave me this ring.” You show off the delicate diamond that shines brightly against your white bones. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“What happened to him?”

“He fainted as soon as I kissed him. I’m trying to get him to Dr. Hubert. He’ll be able to help him.”

“Let me help you.”

You two take Spencer over to the doctor’s office even though none of the dead need to be seen by the doctor. He’s often stated it keeps him tied to his humanity. The doctor’s office is located right next to the bar everyone hangs out in so you’re not surprised to see the doctor taking shot after shot.

“Dr. Hubert!”

“Y/N, darling! We’ve missed you. How was the surface?”

“Riveting. I got married,” you grin and show off your ring.

“Splendid! Where is he?”

“Right here,” you say and show him Spencer who is still out cold. “He fainted when I kissed him. Is there something you can do to help him?”

“Oh, my. He’s living!”

Everyone stops their chatter to look over at Spencer. As soon as they hear a living is among them, they all get curious. No living people visit you so it’s amazing when someone does.

“Yes. Can you wake him up?”

“Let me at him!” The small bartender scatters across the bar table using his tiny bug legs. He was decapitated many centuries ago, so the only thing keeping him moving is the bugs that live inside his head. “I can tickle him awake.”

“I don’t think so, Pierre. Let Dr. Hubert handle this one.”

“Yes, I see the problem. Charger, your finest bottle, please.” The other bartender gets the best bottle of alcohol and hands it over to the doctor. He downs a shot before hovering the top of it underneath Spencer’s nose. Spencer gets one whiff of the stuff and shoots awake, like smelling salts. “Works like a charm.”

“Hey, whoa, you’re okay, darling,” you grin and calm him down.

He sees all kinds of dead people in all different stages of decomposition which freaks him out. He scrambles to get up and backs into someone who has a gaping hole in her throat.

“Are you sure he’s the one you married? He looks so scared,” Marcy asks you.

“Yes. He said his vows perfectly. Spencer, please calm down. Let me explain.”

Spencer doesn’t give you a chance because he’s already trying to get away from you. He pushes past many skeletons without knowing where he’s going. All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of here. You sigh and look at everyone who is staring at you.

“I’m sorry. He’s new at all of this. Let me go talk to him.” You follow in his footsteps but calmly. “Spencer! Come back, darling!” Spencer weaves in and out of the crowd, taking left and right turns haphazardly without knowing where it’s going to take him. “Spencer, darling, where are you?” You turn to see his legs disappear around the corner and when you go investigate, you see a set of stairs leading up to the cliffs above. Spencer is sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath. “There you are, silly.” He jumps at your voice and is about to run again but you hold your hands up. “Please don’t run. Let me explain everything.”

“Fine,” he sighs, mostly because he doesn't want to keep running.

You walk to the railing along the cliff’s edge and look at the city below.

“Isn’t this view amazing? It takes my breath away. You know, if I had any,” you chuckle. You walk over to Spencer and join him on the bench, and you smooth down your dress. “I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“What is going on? Who are you? Where am I? Who are all those people down there? Is this a joke? Is this real life?”

“Calm down, love,” you giggle. “One question at a time.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Underworld. It’s the place where everyone goes when they die. There is no Heaven or Hell. It’s all one place where we all reside.”

“So, you’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“How did you die?” Spencer’s eyes widen when he realizes how inappropriate that question is. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Spencer, you’re my husband. You can ask me anything you want. I was once in love with someone else. He was much older than I was and he told me everything I wanted to hear. He treated me like I was a princess and roped me in. When I told my parents about him, my father wasn’t thrilled I was with someone like him. He told me to stop seeing him but I wouldn't listen. This man and I decided to elope and run away. The only thing he told me to bring was cash and all the gold I could grab. I thought he wanted that to start our future with.”

Telling this story to someone in such an intimate setting brings you to tears but you refuse to let them fall.

“My mother’s wedding dress fit me like a glove. I waited at the base of the tree where you found me but he didn’t show up. I waited for what felt like hours. I was about to leave when he finally showed up. The last thing I saw was him charging at me. The first thing I saw when I woke up was my wedding dress was torn, my cash and gold were missing, and my skin was cold as ice. I was dead. I laid at the base of that tree for years, waiting for my Prince Charming to save me. Then you came along, and everything fell into place.”

“I‘m sorry,” Spencer sighs. “No one deserves that.”

“It’s in the past. You’re here now. Everything is better.”

“What about all those people down there? Are they all dead?”

“Everyone here is dead except for you. I had to bring you here. You fainted when I kissed you.”

“Can you blame me? The dead don’t rise where I’m from.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckle. “There’s good people down here. They’re super nice. If you allow it, I’d love to introduce you to some of them. Will that be okay?”

Spencer has had some time to wrap his head around this. He’s not panicking anymore, and his breathing is under control. He feels like he can address this with a calm head. He looks over your entire body and sees the ring on your skeleton hand. How the hell did he get himself in this situation?

“Yeah, that’ll be okay,” he nods.

You get up and grab Spencer’s hand that he doesn’t immediately shake off. You take him back down to the bar where everyone is having a good time. Marcy is doing shots with Dr. Hubert, and she waves you over when she sees you.

“That’s my best friend, Marcy. Next to her is Dr. Hubert. None of us need medical help, but he still likes to be called a doctor. It makes him in touch with his humanity.”

“Am I allowed to ask how they died?”

“Marcy’s story is even sadder than mine if you can believe it. I’ll let her tell you if she wants. Dr. Hubert drank himself to death. He wasn’t a bad doctor and was always sober when he was treating patients. He just had too much to drink one night and died.”

Pierre scatters across the bar counter with a tray on his head, passing out shots to people.

“Is that just a head?”

“Yeah, he was decapitated. We can’t find his body, but he’s happy like that. Come on, let me introduce you.” You take him over to the group and tap on Marcy’s shoulders. “Marcy, this is Spencer. He’s calmed down a bit.”

“Spencer! It’s so nice to meet you. You better make my girl happy.”

“Yeah,” Spencer chuckles, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Ah, he’s awake. Would you like a drink?” Pierre offers a shot.

“No, he doesn’t,” you quickly say and lean into Spencer. “You don’t want to drink this stuff.”

Spencer looks around the bar to see skeletons drinking. The liquid passes through them since they are all bones but they still enjoy it. There are others who are cut in half, so he can see the liquid slide down their bodies. Some are completely covered with flesh that looks like humans if not for the sickly grey skin. All these dead people but none of them look scary. In fact, everyone is having a good time just being in each other’s company.

If he’s being honest, this looks like a better time than most humans have up top.

“Come on, let’s sit.”

You take him over to a quiet spot in the corner where you can hear him if he talks. Spencer takes a seat and looks at the band on the stage. They’re all skeletons but they’re using their bodies as part of the instruments. One of them is using their legs as the base for a guitar, one is using a couple of heads as drums, and a bone trumpet. This is so weird but it seems to be working for them. Spencer has always thought there is some sort of life after you die, and this just so happens to be it.

“So, Spencer, tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why were you in that forest in the first place?”

Spencer thinks about the vows he’d been saying and his mind suddenly goes to Maeve who must be worrying crazy about him. He can’t possibly tell you about Maeve. He’s not sure how you’re going to react to that. He thinks of his parents and tries to think of a way to get out of this place.

“I needed some space to think, I guess.”

“By saying wedding vows?”

“My parents wanted me to marry young. I wanted to practice before I needed to use those vows.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you said them perfectly,” you smile.

“Thanks.”

“What are your parents like?”

“Overbearing at times. They come from money so they often forget what it’s like to live in a world where people don’t have money. Be thankful you don’t have to meet them.” A lightbulb goes off in Spencer’s head. This is how he’s going to get out of here. “You know what, you should meet them. After all, you are my wife.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea! Where are they buried?”

“Oh, um, they’re not… dead.”

“Oh, they’re still living? My, that does pose a challenge. One that isn’t impossible. I have an idea. Come with me.”

You take him to the one person who knows how to get to the land of the living. He’s been here the longest, one of the firsts. He’s known to many as the Caregiver because he takes care of anyone who seeks him out. His house is located on the other side of town in an old library. His love for books is unmatched by anyone who is here. People from all over come to see the kinds of books he has.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a library quite like this one before.”

The library is run down and has pieces of the building missing but Elder Henry finds it endearing.

“Elder Henry loves this place. Won’t part with it,” you whisper as you walk in. “Elder Henry? Are you around?”

“Whose there?” Elder Henry hobbles out from behind a stack of books and adjusts his glasses to see better. “Ah, Y/N. What a surprise. It’s so good to see you, my dear.”

“Likewise. I’d like you to meet my husband, Spencer.”

“What’s that? Husband?”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Spencer nods politely.

“What brings you two here?”

“We’d like to go to the surface. I know you have a spell for that.”

“Ah, the surface. I’ve never seen the appeal of the living even when I was among them.”

“Is it possible? Can you do it?” Spencer asks eagerly.

“Yes, I can. There are rules, you know. Rules you must follow or else you’ll be sent back here.”

“Which are?”

Elder Henry walks around his area and gathers the things needed for the spell. He never inserts himself in other people’s business so if you want to go to the surface, then he’ll help you get there. He doesn’t need to know why, he doesn’t need to know your intentions, and he doesn’t want to know.

“For one, if you wish to come back, you must say the secret word. Hopscotch.”

“That’s fun to say,” you grin. “Hopscotch!”

“Yes, but you must abide by their rules. After all, you’re a guest in their world. Whatever they say goes, so you must be careful who you talk to.”

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to meet his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me.”

“Are you both sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Spencer says a bit too quickly. He clears his throat and says it more calmly this time. “I mean, yes. We do.”

“Alright then.” He takes out the ingredients and mixes them together to create a golden cloud. “Remember, to come back, you must say Hopscotch.”

Elder Henry dumps the cloud onto you and Spencer, and you’re immediately transported to the forest where he married you in the beginning. The moonlight is especially bright this time of night, and you enjoy the smell of fresh air. It’s been so long since you’ve been up here and the thought brings you to tears. You hum happily and start to elegantly dance in circles around Spencer.

“I’ve spent all my time in the darkness, I’ve forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is,” you grin.

He can’t believe he’s going to betray you. He’s wanted nothing more than to get out of that hellhole since arriving. He’s gotten to know you a bit better but not enough to want to love you. There is potential in you, for sure, and you’re such a sweet woman who wants nothing but love. You’re kind, intelligent, free, and you don’t let the bad things that have happened to you stop you from living your life.

How can he walk away knowing he’s not going to his parents?

“Okay, I’m going to go get them. You heard Elder Henry. It’s best if you minimize your contact with the living as much as possible. Just stay here and I’ll go get them.”

“Okay,” you nod and sit down on a tree stump.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them.”

“I believe you,” you smile. “I’ll wait right here.”

Spencer walks away from you and when he’s far enough away, he looks back at you. You’re dancing and swaying in the moonlight, your dress flowing all around you. His heart is heavy with guilt but he turns back around and continues walking. Only until you’re out of sight does he sprint all the back into town.

He runs by a wall of fliers and stops short when he sees his face on one of them. It’s a missing poster sign with a reward of ten grand on it.

MISSING: SPENCER WALTER REID. IF SEEN, PLEASE CONTACT DIANA AND WILL REID. MISSING SINCE SEPTEMBER 29TH.

That’s more than a week ago. What the hell? Time must pass differently than it does in the Underworld. He passes by his parent’s house and heads straight to Maeve’s parent’s place. He doesn’t want to alert her parents of his arrival so he goes to the back of the house where her bedroom is. Her bedroom has a balcony where she can relax that has glass double doors that lead into the room.

He jumps over the fence and knocks on the window lightly. Meave is sitting on the couch by the fireplace knitting. She jumps at the sudden noise at her back door and turns to see who it is. Her eyes widen when she sees it’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” she gasps and sets her knitting down to approach him. She unlocks the back door and opens it to let him in. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright?”

“I can’t really explain,” Spencer stutters.

Maeve reaches out and touches his hand and pulls away with a gasp.

“You’re as cold as death. What happened to you?”

“Listen, I was very apprehensive last week about getting married to you. We just got into a relationship and I thought I wasn’t ready. I freaked out and left. I guess I needed time to wrap my head around sharing my life with someone. Then something clicked in my head. I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. I want this wedding to happen. I really really like you.”

“Oh, Spencer,” she smiles and caresses his cheek. “I really like you too. Maybe even love.” She leans in to kiss him but Spencer notices something moving outside on Maeve’s balcony. When he sees the white wedding dress, he gasps and staggers back. “Spencer? What’s wrong?”

Before Spencer can say anything, you open the door and allow a huge gust of wind to enter the room. Your veil flows over your head, and you cough as you move it out of your face. You look at Spencer and notice a young woman standing next to him.

“Darling, I just wanted to meet--Spencer, who is this?” you ask and slink up to his side.

“Who is she?” Maeve asks.

“I’m his wife,” you say and show off the ring he gave you.

She gasps when she recognizes it as the one he was supposed to give her.

“Spencer?”

“No, Maeve. I’m not married to her. She’s dead.”

He grabs your skeleton arm to show her and your heart breaks at the thought of him going to another woman’s home after marrying you. You yank your arm from him and step away with a deadly look on your face.

“Hopscotch,” you growl.

Just as quickly as you came to the land of the living, you returned just the same. You appear in Elder Henry’s library where you departed from. You push Spencer away from you with hot tears running down your face.

“I can’t believe you! You lied to me! You didn’t want to visit your parents. You wanted to go to that other woman!”

“Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.”

“No! You married me!” you cry and turn away from him.

“She’s got a point,” Elder Henry shrugs.

“I thought things were going really well,” you sniffle.

“Look, I’m sorry but this can’t work.”

“Why not?” you ask and turn to face him. “It’s my bones, isn’t it? You don’t want to see them.”

“No, it’s not that,” he sighs and runs his hands down his face. “Look, you’re an amazing woman. You’re kind and sweet and I hate what that man did to you. Under different circumstances, I’d honestly want to be with you, but we’re too different. You’re dead.”

“You should have thought of that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Why can’t you see that it was a mistake? I would never marry you.”

Silence falls in the library. If your heart could break, then they would hear it. You’ll never be someone’s bride. Always the bridesmaid. How could you expect someone as good-looking and amazing as Spencer would want you? He realizes what he said but he can’t take it back. Your shoulder sag and you sigh sadly. You turn away and walk away to be alone. Spencer opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

He lets you walk away.

You don’t know where you’re going just that you’re walking wherever your legs carry you. You find yourself at the park with a nice gazebo that is romantic most of the time. You take a seat under the middle of it and look at your wedding ring. He never wanted to marry you. This was a mistake. Who would want to marry you? Maybe you’re just damaged goods and too broken for anyone to love.

“Hey, are you okay? Where’s Spencer?” You look up to see Marcy walking over to you. It takes everything in you not to break down crying but you tell her the entire story. “I’m gonna beat his ass.”

“No, don’t. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we are too different. You should have seen her Marcy. She’s beautiful. Maybe he does belong with her. Little Miss Living,” you say in a sad, sarcastic tone. “With her rosy cheeks and beating heart.”

“Those girls got nothing on you. You’re so much better than them. Looks don’t matter. You’re such a kind and beautiful soul.” Her pep talk doesn’t seem to be working so she tries something else. “What does she have that you don’t? I don’t need to know what she looks like to know she doesn’t hold a candle to your beautiful smile.”

“How about a pulse?” you sigh.

“That’s overrated. Plus, she’s not wearing his ring. You are. She doesn’t compare to you.”

“She still breathes air.”

“Who cares? That shouldn’t matter when he knows the kind of person you are… how special you are.”

“I don’t want to be dead,” you whisper fearfully. “I never wanted to be dead. I wish I could be alive again. To feel the sun on my skin. To feel pain. Don’t get me wrong, I love everyone down here, but I can’t feel pain. Physical, that is. The pain I feel now… my heart hurts but it doesn’t beat, it’s breaking.”

Marcy puts a hand on your back and rubs it soothingly. She knows how long you’ve waited to find your Prince. You were a young girl in love just looking for someone to love you back. Is that too much to ask?

“What you just told me, it seems like the only redeeming feature about her is that she’s alive. You know that’s just temporary. Down here is forever. Down here is more than a lifetime.”

“I guess,” you sigh sadly.

“Y/N?” You and Marcy look up to see Spencer standing at the edge of the gazebo nervously. “Can I talk to you?”

“You’re about five seconds away from getting an ass-kicking,” Marcy growls and stands up.

“Marcy, it’s okay,” you calm her down. “I can handle this.”

“Just call if you need me.”

She walks off and Spencer takes her seat next to you.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I get it, Spencer. She has what I don’t. A beating heart.”

“That doesn’t… Look, it’s no secret you’re amazing. Even dead, you’re very beautiful. I don’t know how that other guy let you go so easily. I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. Just know that whatever our differences are, it’s not because you’re dead.”

“Do you mean that?” you ask and look up at him.

“Yes, I do.”

Spencer tucks your hair behind your ear delicately. This is the first romantic moment you two have had in weeks but it’s everything you could have wanted and more. Spencer notices someone walking in the distance and recognizes it as someone he knows.

“Excuse me.”

He gets up and leaves you alone on the gazebo bench. You’re not sure who this person is or what he is talking about, but Spencer leaves abruptly with an upset look on his face.

“Spencer?” you ask but he doesn’t look at you.

You get up to follow him but decide against it. He might need some time to himself, so you go searching for someone who might be able to help you. Marcy is in the bar where you first woke Spencer up, and she is playing a game of darts. When she sees you, she drops the darts and heads over to you.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know.” You pull her off to the side so you can talk to her privately, an alley between the bar and the doctor’s office. “He apologized for what he said. We were having a moment but he saw someone he knew and went to talk to him. He walked off without another word. Are all men like this?”

“Sweetheart, be thankful you never had to deal with those kind of men. None of them are very bright.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.” You look to the right to see Elder Henry walking over with a book in his hand. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

“What’s going on?”

“There is a complication with your marriage. The vows are binding only until death do you part.”

“What are you saying?” you gasp fearfully.

“Death has already parted you.”

“No! If he finds out he’s gonna leave. There must be something you can do.”

Elder Henry puts the book on a trash can lid and flips a few pages.

“There is one way. It requires the greatest sacrifice. Spencer would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the land of the living and drink from the wine of ages.”

“Poison!” you gasp.

“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”

Spencer is around the corner listening to the entire conversation. His eyes are wide in fear of what you’re going to say. He looks around the corner and sees you fall to your knees in sorrow.

“I could never ask him. What kind of person would I be if I took that away from him?”

Spencer really likes Maeve and could see a future with her, but he’s also torn with choosing you. All you wanted was for someone to love you unconditionally, and you will have that if he chooses you. He’s been spending all his time with you.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer says, making himself known. “I’ll do it.”

“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?”

Spencer holds his hand out for you and pulls you to your feet.

“I do.”

Looks like a wedding is happening. Everyone in the Underworld is excited that their own Corpse Bride is getting the moment she finally deserves. Spencer is kind of excited to be living down here after seeing so many people bond over being dead. Elder Henry works hard to create a spell that will transfer everyone down below to the world above. This will be the wedding of the century for both the living and the dead.

Because you’re going to the world above, you have to abide by their rules. The living weren't thrilled to have the dead roam the streets. In fact, they were mostly horrified to see skeletons walk down the street. Still, you and the others make your way down to the church for the ceremony. The pastor wasn’t too happy to have the dead knocking at his door, but you won’t allow him to spoil this evening.

Everyone settles into the pew as you and Spencer sand at the altar. Elder Henry walks behind the table and lays the book down with the bottle of poison. There is an empty cup next to Spencer while you have the whole bottle. Spencer has to admit that seeing your happy smile is bringing him joy.

This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for since you were murdered.

“Dearly beloved and departed,” Elder Henry begins, “we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage. Living first.”

Spencer turns to you and raises his right hand.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” He grabs the empty cup and raises it. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

“Now you,” Elder Henry says to you.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” You grab the bottle of poison to pour into his cup. “Your cup will never empty.” You pour the poison into his cup. “For I will be--” As you’re pouring, you notice someone standing next to a pillar behind Spencer. You do a double-take to confirm it’s Maeve. She’s dressed in a wedding dress. She must have gotten married to someone else and didn’t want that, so she came here in hopes of seeing Spencer. “I will be…”

“Go on, my dear,” Elder Henry says.

You take a deep breath.

“Your cup will never empty… for I will be…”

“I will be your wine,” Spencer finishes for you.

He raises the cup of poison to his lips to drink, but you can’t let him do this. You quickly put your hand over the top so he doesn’t drink a drop.

“She’s having second thoughts,” someone whispers in the crowd.

“I can’t,” you say and look at Maeve again.

“What’s wrong?”

He goes to look at what you’re looking at but you put a hand on his cheek to stop him. Your heart hurts again but not for you. It’s for them. You had your chance. Now you’re taking someone else’s chance.

“This is wrong. I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. Now I’ve stolen them from someone else.” Two tears roll down your cheeks. “I love you, Spencer, but you are not mine.”

You hold your hand out to Maeve who walks into the light. Spencer turns and gasps when he sees her. Everyone in the crowd gasps as she joins you on the altar. You grab her hand and place it in Spencer’s before letting go of him.

“Oh, how touching,” someone says from the church doors. Everyone turns their head to see who it is, and when you catch a glimpse, your face goes ghostly white. You take a step back in shock and put a hand on the table to prevent yourself from falling. “I always cry at weddings. Our young lovers together at last. Surely now, they can live happily ever after.” The man walks down the aisle closer to the altar. “But you forget,” he grabs Maeve’s arm and pulls her into him, “she’s still my wife! I will not leave here empty-handed!”

“You,” you gulp.

The man looks at you and his eyes widen.

“Y/N? No, I left you.”

“For dead,” you say quietly.

Everyone in the church gasps loudly at the realization that the man who stands before you is your murderer. He backs away with Maeve in his arms just as everyone stands in anger for what he did to you. There is a corpse with a sword hanging out of his body that Justin grabs. He places the sharp end over Maeve’s throat with a glare.

“Take your hands off her,” Spencer glares and walks toward them.

“Do I have to kill you, too?”

Justin shoves Maeve away and goes to swipe at Spencer but he jumps out of the way. Spencer is not equipped for hand-to-hand combat so he’s easily outdone by Justin, but you’re not going to let Justin take away something else from you. Spencer trips and falls, making him an easy target. Justin raises the sword to bring it down on him but you quickly step in the way so that the sword ends up in you.

Everyone gasps in shock and backs away but the sword does nothing to you. You grip the handle of the sword and take it out of you before pointing it at Justin.

“Touche, my dear,” Justin says.

“Get out,” you give him a deadly glare.

“Oh, I’m leaving,” he chuckles darkly and walks around you to the table with the cup of poison. Although, he doesn't know it’s poison. He grabs it and holds it in the air. “First, a toast to Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?”

You want to cry. You want to scream and yell and kick but you’re not back home. All your friends get up to defend your honor but Elder Henry holds them back.

“We are in the land of the living. We have to abide by their rules.”

Justin raises the cup and drinks the entire glass. He walks away with his head held high but before he can get to the door, he chokes on nothing. He grabs his heart and staggers, and Elder Henry steps aside knowing that Justin is no longer part of the living.

“Not anymore,” Marcy smirks.

“She’s right. He’s all yours.”

All of your friends gather around the man who killed you to give him a taste of his own medicine. You turn to Spencer and Maeve who are overwhelmed by what happened.

“Spencer, I never thought I’d see you again,” Maeve smiles up at him.

You smile tearfully at the happy couple and turn to leave. You reach the doors to the church when Spencer stops you.

“Wait, I made a promise.”

“You kept your promise. You set me free.” You take off your wedding ring and place it in his open hand. “Now I can do the same for you.”

You turn and walk down the steps of the church only looking back once at Spencer. A white light encases your body as your soul is released to be whatever it wants to be. After years of being in pain, you’re finally able to take a deep breath in without it hurting.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

Note

"i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me" + kisses under mistletoe + Simon Riley x reader

(I combined two prompts from the same kisses list, hopefully that’s okay! Congrats on 2k followers, you absolutely deserve it 💖💖 Your writing is so goddamn fantastic and I am so delighted for you 💖💖💖💖)

Ooooh good picks!! I like these. Let's see where this goes...

Warnings: alcohol and teasing. And fluff.

You weren't entirely sure how you got here, but you were sure it was Soap's fault. Somehow.

You huffed softly, holding your drink a little tighter. The holiday party was a long-standing tradition, but one that you usually wiggled out of with various excuses. Ghost usually got out of it too.

But not this time. This time, Price had forced you both into going. Something about spreading the holiday suffering.

Sometimes you greatly disliked your captain.

Which is how you found yourself trying to hide against a wall. Except Soap would not stop pestering you for a dance and making comments about how bonnie you looked in a dress. Thus, you were inclined to blame anything that happened on him.

"You look like you ate a live goldfish."

You jolted at the familiar voice, looking over at Ghost. He was actually dressed for the occasion, jacket stretched across broad shoulders, black face mask concealing most of his features.

"Surprised Price let you wear that." You motioned to your own face in reference.

"Knew I wouldn't show up without it." Ghost leaned near you, turning his gaze out to the crowd again.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Gonna guess he threatened you with the same terms, then." You folded your arms over your chest, watching the dancers for now. You could spot Soap among them, having given up on you and found someone else to charm.

"Two hours," Ghost grunted, sounding displeased.

"Guess we'd better make the most of it." You snagged champagne from a passing waiter and offered one to him with a teasing little grin. He huffed at you but took it, the glass delicate against his fingers. You looked away first, unreasonably warmed.

The first hour was easy. Avoid small talk, cover each other's backs, glower occasionally at Price or Soap, and drink. The second hour got a little more lively.

"This way," you hissed, taking a quick surreptitious look around before you walked ahead of Simon, leading the way further back. Away from the woman who had apparently made it her goal in life to be as annoying as possible.

That, or she was attempting suicide by Simon. You were a little surprised he hadn't don't anything worse when she put her hand flat against his stomach.

(And you had ignored the burning little curl in your own stomach.)

"Where are you taking me?" But Simon only sounded amused.

"Finding you a spot away from her," you grumbled. "Does she think you're a slab of meat?"

"Yes," came the droll answer from behind you. You flapped a hand at him and rounded a corner into a quiet hallway. Much better.

"This should do," you said, looking around with satisfaction. "We're still technically at the event."

Simon huffed in amusement. A moment later, he was a solid line of heat against your back, hands at your waist. Your pulse sped up and you tipped your head to look back at him.

"Jealous?" He murmured in your ear, the crinkles around his eyes giving away his smirk.

"Of what?" You asked, mentally scrambling. Shit! "Someone who doesn't know how to take a no?"

He tugged you back, closer to him, his touch electrifying even through your clothes. "Not one to share, are you?"

"Dunno what you mean," you murmured, tugging against his hold. But he held firm, not letting you get anywhere.

"Did you know," he purred, low and teasing, in your ear, "that you frown any time someone flirts with me?"

Whoops. You hadn't even noticed. "Must be a coincidence."

"Don't think so." One hand left your waist, and a moment later you felt warm breath on the shell of your ear. You shuddered, eyes sliding closed. "Think it's more than that."

"Oh?" You managed to keep your voice even, though your body betrayed you in ways you knew he'd marked.

Simon hummed softly, the sound rumbling in his chest against your back. "Look there."

You blinked, caught off guard, and looked up. A bunch of mistletoe had been pinned up as decoration here, just above your heads. "Mistletoe?"

He huffed softly, gently turning you until you faced him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, helping you keep your balance. He carried so much on these shoulders. You never failed to admire them.

But the sight of his face was what held your attention, a rare treat. You drank in every detail greedily, from the scars to the bent nose to the circles under his eyes. Because that's what made him Simon.

"I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me," he murmured, cheeky and amused. But not joking.

So you smiled, one hand cupping his cheek delicately. When he tipped his head into your hand, you leaned up with the same consideration and kissed him. Soft, sweet. Gentle. Not things either of you had an abundance of in your lives, but something you wanted to give him more of.

Price would forgive you for not going back to the party.

#follower celebration #2k celebration #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader

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television-overload · 13 days

Text

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 15/34 - nature/nurture

[Read on AO3]

Krista is a lovely young woman. In her second year at Georgetown, with plans to get a Master's and a PhD after her undergraduate studies, having a child really isn't in the cards right now, nor would she be able to financially sustain the situation in a few years time.

It turns out, the previous couple she'd selected ended up getting pregnant themselves and had to back out, which was just an added stressor for Krista who was trying to focus on her studies, knowing finals season would be approaching sooner than later.

Mulder and Scully are more than willing to step in, and by all accounts, their meeting with her went… well.

Really well, honestly.

Scully had bonded with her over their shared Alma Mater, and even happened to have taken the same introductory physics class as her with an ancient professor who is somehow still teaching after all these years.

Mulder, on the other hand, shares her interest in sports. It seems Krista had been quite the track and field athlete in her high school years, and also won State as the pitcher for her varsity softball team her senior year.

They left the meeting feeling beyond hopeful, something they were unaccustomed to but were slowly beginning to come to terms with, finally.

“I think she really liked us, Scully!” Mulder says, glancing at her excitedly from the driver's seat of the car on their way home. “Can you imagine? If this works out, in less than six months, we'll be parents!”

“It's a scary thought, isn't it?” Scully asks, unable to suppress her own smile.

Scary, and about a million other things, Mulder thinks.

“The good kind of scary,” he says decidedly, and he delights when she nods in agreement, setting aside her skepticism for a moment.

“Yes.”

The drive back to their apartment goes quickly. The place near campus where they'd met up for lunch isn't far from her building at all, and if it had been a little warmer out, they might have even walked. Mulder puts the car in park and circles the vehicle, holding out his hand for Scully after she closes the passenger door, and her hand slides easily into his.

This is something they do now—holding hands. At some point in this process, the occasional gesture of comfort had turned to a casual, almost everyday thing, and Mulder isn't going to complain.

Maybe it was the need to keep up appearances as a married couple that made them do it. After all, in certain areas of their lives now, it's expected. With the adoption agency, with the birth mother… Their relationship, while close, is not one that fits into the mold of the wider public. It's easier to express it in this way for the benefit of others, rather than their usual way of showing affection.

On the other hand, maybe something between them really had shifted. He wouldn't soon forget how Scully had leaned on him, both literally and figuratively, after Pfaster. A year ago, he's not sure she would have trusted him like that, and in hindsight, she was right not to. He hadn't yet earned her trust back, and he'd regret ever breaking it in the first place for the rest of his life.

But she trusts him now. She lets him hold her and care for her and believe in her—believe for her—like he's always tried to do.

He will always consider standing by her side to be one of his greatest accomplishments in life. More than anything he has gained from his time on the X-Files, he has gained a friend. Someone who truly understands him.

He doesn't know what he could have done to deserve her.

Maybe he will always battle these feelings of unworthiness, thinking he could never be enough for her, but it's far too late for him to let go now. Losing her would end him. It's why he had been hesitant to accept her proposal to try IVF in the first place. Every curveball life throws at him is just another thing that could potentially rip their relationship apart. He tries his best to keep those “surprises” to a minimum, but every so often, the opportunity presented is too good to pass up.

Sometimes, he has found, it's worth the risk.

He hopes it will be, in this case. They're so close to achieving what she—they— have longed for for so long, but there's still room for error.

The best he can do is keep moving forward. Stay the course, and pray for fair seas up ahead.

He thinks her father might appreciate his sailing analogy, but then again, he probably would have hated him regardless of his use of sea-based figurative language.

In the hallway, an older woman smiles at the two of them, and Mulder forces a polite smile back at her. He knows what her neighbors must think. They've seen him around for years, and he's even met a few of them in passing. But now he lives here, and his name is even on her mailbox next to hers. There's not much he could say to dissuade their gossiping at this point.

Scully opens the door, turning on a few lights as they shed their coats and put them away. The adrenaline that had fueled them before in what was possibly the most important meeting of their lives has left them exhausted, and he happily follows Scully toward the couch in the living room.

A lazy day is just what they need. Things are out of their hands now. After weeks—months —of preparation, they have done all they can. Now, all there is to do is wait.

It's almost routine, at this point, when they share a couch. Scully curls up under a blanket, her head against a throw pillow, while Mulder fishes the TV remote out of whatever crevice he inevitably left it in last time. He has to move her feet a little to sit down, but as soon as he's situated, he lets her rest them up against his leg.

She's somehow always freezing, but he doesn't mind.

He sets a Knicks game on the screen at a low volume and leans back, his head lolling against the backrest.

There’s something about staring at the swirling patterns on the ceiling that lends itself to deep contemplation. The muffled sound of the TV does too, but maybe that's just a him thing. He closes his eyes, thinking through the day's events. Thinking of the future.

“I feel for anyone in her position,” he says, the thought escaping him and breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen. He can sense Scully is still awake though, so he continues. “It can't be easy to give up your own child, especially when the circumstances are out of your hands. But, in this case…”

He's thought of this a lot, lately. About how one person's misfortune may well be another’s salvation. It's a hard dichotomy to grasp.

“Well, it's a good thing for us, anyway,” he finishes, placing a hand over Scully's ankle. “We might actually get a chance to do this.”

“I hope so,” she murmurs into her pillow.

He opens his eyes, glancing down at her in her restful state.

“We will. I have a good feeling,” he says with all the confidence he can muster. It feels odd, this hope, but it's as real and true to him as the love he carries for his partner. “Wow, it's been a while since I've said those words.”

She breathes out an amused chuckle, curling further into the cushions before she responds.

“For once, I'm inclined to believe you.”

His lips curl in a smile and he playfully tickles her foot.

“I've never been so happy to hear you say that, Scully.”

He knows he should let her sleep, but there are just too many thoughts running through his head that he can't restrain himself. There's a whole world of possibilities about to open up for them. It's exciting and terrifying all at once, and she knows he’s a compulsive talker in those kinds of situations.

He's thankful that she hasn't grown tired of him already and moved to her bedroom to take a nap instead. If they were really husband and wife, that wouldn't stop him. He'd still be able to talk her ear off all night long if he wanted, or until she kicked him out on the couch.

“I can tell you want to say something,” Scully says knowingly, smirking up at him out the corner of her eye.

She knows him so well.

“You think I could coach little league?” he asks, speaking his thoughts aloud. “I mean, I know the kid’s still like the size of a banana, but in a few years’ time—”

“I think that's a great idea.” She turns slightly, adjusting her position so she can see his face properly, and the ridiculousness of his own question causes his cheeks to redden. But Scully takes him seriously. She always does. That's what makes her different from everybody else.

“We have a lot in common with her, you know,” he says, his fingertips massaging unconsciously into her lower calves. “With Krista. Brainy and athletic, all rolled into one. It'll be like having our own little über Mulder-Scully.”

“Don't make me start a nature versus nurture argument with you,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I'm a psychologist, Scully. I could make a pretty strong case either way.”

She smiles, shaking her head in what he likes to think can be called fond annoyance. They fall silent, eyes locked in a gaze so heavy that he starts to feel a little drunk. The way she mesmerizes him might be worthy of opening an X-File someday. Just to investigate.

“We might have just met our baby, Mulder. Isn't that crazy?” she says, shifting the conversation suddenly in a more serious direction. There's awe in her voice, and he feels it too. “To have been within five feet of this person we'll know and love for the rest of our lives?”

It isn't like Scully to be so optimistic. She's always lived her life believing that to speak your deepest desires aloud is to make yourself vulnerable. Part of him is surprised that she's not being more cautious now with getting her hopes up, but seeing her this way?

He likes it. He likes it a lot.

Maybe he's finally rubbing off on her.

Her arm pops out of her blanket and she reaches for him, drawn to him like a magnet. He happily entwines his fingers with hers, his thumb stroking over the back of her hand.

“I can't wait, Scully.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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the-red-thread-that-strangles · 13 days

Text

Akai Shuuichi isn't afraid of heights. Like any sane person, however, he dreads the fall.

Though he questions his sanity. Because try as he might to stay away from the edge, it calls to him. Staring into sweet oblivion sends shivers down his spine, the uncertainty of his fate a thrill like no other. Most days he trusts in himself, his ability to walk the razor's edge, but he's fallen before. And it hurt.

Of course, pain is just a part of life he's learned to live with. In his line of work, people get injured all the time. And if you can't handle that, you have to be very lucky to make it out alive. For the longest time, death wasn't an option.

(Now, it wouldn't be so bad.)

So he steadied himself, got smarter, hardier. Better at avoiding situations that result in pain. And better at shutting it out, too, when it did appear, in order to keep going.

Why, then, does his chest ache and burn?

It's quite simple.

Layers and layers of ice, degrees of separation in place precisely to protect him from pain like this, melted through by Rei's blazing heat.

What a stupid thing he's done, to get attached again.

He could've tried to resist, at the start. Before things had gone too far. Before he got to know Furuya Rei.

But maybe, by then, it was already too late. In truth, he probably doomed himself years ago, when he accepted Scotch's offer of companionship. It brought Bourbon into his orbit, and the man's never been any less than doggedly persistent. Once Shuuichi let him in, he was never going to escape unscathed.

Shuuichi let him get too close, and got burnt as a result. Could see it coming, too, for the longest time. But how was he supposed to escape Rei's brilliance? His touch, devastatingly kind? It would be like trying to block out the sun - an exercise in painful impossibility.

So he's stopped trying, and embraced the wildfire that is Rei. Of course he burns, it's his nature.

(There's some things Shuuichi will need to reevaluate about his own, now that he has time. Because he certainly never thought of himself as a masochist, and yet, despite the pain, he knows one thing for certain: he wouldn't want things any other way.)

(Not one that is available to him, at least.)

Thus, he resorts to clinging to the vestiges of patience and composure he has cultivated for years to keep working through the situation with a cool head.

To do what is right.

He's putting back together what he tore apart, unwittingly, some three years ago now. Their struggle is over. They deserve to rest and recover, nurse their wounds - together.

It doesn't matter that he feels like he's bleeding out. He's used to patching himself up, after all.

And he's glad that he can do this for his... friends. The term invokes a foreign, gentle joy. They're no longer team mates, no longer allies, no longer forced together by circumstance. That's in the past, now. They stick to each other by choice, these days. That makes them friends, right?

He's happy for his friends.

Shuuichi pours himself another glass of scotch.

He should've picked a different hotel than his family.

Rather, his family should've really looked into a permanent residence already, considering Masumi has decided she doesn't want to go back to Britain. It's not like mother could refuse, after all the things his little sister did for her - not least of which, coming clean to Shiho and convincing her to share the APTX antidote, when all was said and done.

They're certainly not lacking in money, and Shuuichi's sure the Hanedas have connections that would make finding a flat, or even a house, possible, even on short notice.

Then again, Masumi told him they've been living in a hotel for more than half a year - maybe they've simply grown used to the comforts. It's not for him, but he's rarely seen eye to eye with mother.

Regardless, none of this excuses banging at his door at seven in the morning, on the dot.

"Shuu, are you up yet?"

Well, if he wasn't, he surely would be, now. Years undercover have left him a light sleeper out of necessity - it's a habit he won't be able to break for quite a while, even if he wanted to.

Still, the splitting headache and nausea make him consider playing dead. He doesn't feel much better than it, in any case.

Another set of knocks shakes his door. He loves his sister, and her determination is one of her best traits. But some of these days, it's also highly inconvenient.

"One moment."

He drags himself off the barstool, checks the mirror. Can almost hear Rei telling him he looks like death warmed over. Roughly two hours of sleep half-draped over the hotel room bar certainly didn't do him any favours.

He buttons up his shirt in an attempt at modesty, combs back his hair roughly. Part of him wants to send Masumi away - she's idolised him for too long. His little sister doesn't deserve to have the illusion of composure shattered, shouldn't have to see him, like this.

But she told him, at her birthday party, trying alcohol for the first time in their family home, under his watchful eyes. Always direct, but, as it turned out, even more so when tipsy:

'When all of this is over, I want my brother back. Just...you, however you are.'

If Shuuichi waits for a time where he feels ready to talk to her, won't stain her merely by existing in proximity, they'll never get to meet at all.

(He can't have that. He's missed too much, already.)

So he drags himself to the door, dishevelled, morning breath and all. Opens it a crack.

"Morning." If his voice is a little rougher than usual, there's nothing he can do about it.

Masumi pushes the door wide open so she can step in, giving him a wide berth. Inspects him head to toe, worry clear in her scowl and the wrinkle of her nose.

"...is this a bad time?", she asks, a glint to her eyes as she notices the half-empty bottle of scotch on the bar's counter. She can't help it - a detective through and through, and not good enough at feigning nonchalance yet. The evidence at the crime scene is surely forming a rather damning picture - he really should have put the bottle back into the bar before letting her in.

She plops down on the small sofa, makes herself comfortable while he opens the window. That should at least give them some relief from the smells accumulated overnight in the room.

"No. You're just here early. Is something the matter?"

He doesn't bother with pleasantries on principle, but at this hour he finds himself even less inclined. Besides - she wouldn't be here this early if it wasn't important. At least Shuuichi dearly hopes she has more sense than that.

Masumi looks down at the floor, a little guilty. He settles on the barstool and waits for her hesitation to blow over. Must really be looking like shit, if he's managed to curb her usual enthusiasm.

"I was going to ask for a favour, but I'm really not sure-"

He gives her an unimpressed look, from up upon his perch. It's a little too early to beat around the bush.

"Masumi." A single word, aimed to cut her off with calm precision. "How do I help?"

He might not be feeling well, but he's a professional - he's worked in worse conditions, for less important reasons. He'll drag himself out of his slump, if she needs him.

"You don't have to. It's silly." She gives him a sheepish smile, fangs and all.

"That's for me to decide, once you let me know what you need. So?"

She steadies herself, looks up at him, and sighs.

"For context, it's been months now, but Ran's still down about the whole Shinichi fiasco. So, we've decided to surprise her with an outing, tomorrow night."

So far so good, although he doesn't see where that concerns him.

"It was gonna be just us girls, and I'm confident that between Ran and myself, we can handle anyone stupid enough to try and cause trouble. But you know how it is in Beika. There's always a risk."

He does indeed know how Beika has somehow overtaken Osaka in every single criminal statistic there is. If she didn't have friends here, he would suggest moving elsewhere. He hears Nagano is very lovely, all year 'round.

"So we were discussing if there's anyone we could bring for company. And, well-"

"Go on."

"Sonoko somehow - I'd really like her resources - caught wind that Okiya Subaru is back on 'vacation'. She might have suggested asking him to accompany us?"

Not entirely unexpected - miss Suzuki had taken something of a liking to him, for whatever reason. It's a testament to the improvement of his acting skills. Engaging with kids and teenagers is a far cry more difficult and involved than his cover as Rye, somehow.

"...she may also be under the inaccurate impression, you, well, he could be a potential match for Ran."

At least his sister's on the right page there. That's not happening, never in a thousand years. Even if Ran wasn't barely more than half his age, she's too innocent, selfless, kind. If something like love exists in his heart, it couldn't ever be for someone like her - not again.

"You want me to decline the offer, then?" Simple enough.

Masumi shakes her head.

"No, Sonoko's right. It's always good to have an extra pair of eyes, and I'd love to have you with us. Been too long since we last spent time together. Besides, I don't think Ran is even interested in you - or anyone, really, after that disaster..." It takes him a moment to place the bitterness in her voice, uncharacteristic as it is.

"And that is unexpected?"

"No. I get it, she needs time. But she's miserable, and I want her to cheer up already..." Masumi mumbles the latter half to herself, subdued. Shuuichi's not sure he was supposed to hear that, but, well. He did.

"You'll get through to her eventually."

Good back-up gets one out of the toughest of scrapes, he can attest to that. If his sister is determined to get Ran to feel better, her persistence will make it come true, eventually.

"I sure hope so." She smiles up at him.

He finds his lips quirking up in response. "You focus on helping her. I'll cover your back."

He's sure he'll manage not to indulge miss Suzuki's delusions too badly. Rei often let him know how off-putting he can be, after all - finally a good use for his skills.

"Thanks, Shuu."

She gets up. Stops a couple of steps away from him, hovering uncertainly. When he raises an eyebrow, he can almost see the 'ah, fuck it', and then she's hugging him. Shuichi pats her back, a little awkwardly.

"Any time", he says and means it. "If there's anything else..."

She tenses next to him, but shakes her head.

"No, it's...I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Well, now he is a little worried. He'll need to keep an eye out for whatever's troubling her.

"Alright." He won't push her; she'll tell him if she needs to.

Masumi lets go and scurries off, fleeing for the door.

"Text me the time and place, I'll be there."

"Will do. See you tomorrow." She nods and waves her goodbye. He follows to lock the door behind her, the bolt sliding shut with a satisfying clack.

There's just one small problem. He currently doesn't have Okiya's get-up. And Okiya doesn't live in this hotel.

After dropping him off yesterday, Shuuichi had planned not to bother him for a couple of days. Well. That plan has just been tossed out the window rather unceremoniously.

It can't be helped. With a bit of apprehension, he calls Scotch.

Under the cover of darkness, Shuuichi scales the garden wall, dropping into the Kudo's backyard without issue. The alarms have been disabled according to the schedule he provided.

He slips in through the unlocked backdoor, shutting it behind himself. The security systems of the place are too familiar; he reactivates them on autopilot. Better to avoid unpleasant surprises, wherever possible.

Clearly, Scotch had a similar idea - Shuuichi can barely see his outline in the darkened kitchen, but the revolver he gave to him gleams in the dim light. It's nice to see he's making good use of it.

Sharp blue eyes scan him.

"The passphrase?"

Nostalgia steals the air from his lungs. Between unsafe safe houses, a trigger-happy Bourbon, and working with people best described as shapeshifters, they needed a way to identify themselves, and quickly, when they returned home.

It's been years since he's last spoken it, but the passphrase comes to him as easily as breathing.

"Eat, drink, and be merry..."

Scotch had suggested the words, years ago. The motto he lived by, when not on the job, in order to not lose his sanity. The motto he'd imposed on Rye, as well, when they became partners.

A cheshire grin in the night.

"...for tomorrow we die." Scotch finishes their creed, lowers the revolver.

"Welcome home, Rye."

It's always been easy to find comfort by Scotch's side. Between the greeting, making gyoza together - which goes much better than their attempts years ago - and watching mindless action movies with a glass of bourbon, ripping apart impossible stunt work, it's difficult not to fall into a simulacrum of the fragile peace they'd carved out for themselves, away from organisation work.

Only this time, the peace is real.

Despite his apprehensions about meeting Scotch, Shuuichi's glad he's here - travelling with him is one thing, but he didn't realize just how much he's missed downtime with his ex-partner. Scotch's sharp intellect and easy-going attitude make for pleasant company.

It's exactly what he needs to unwind.

Which is why he doesn't see how Scotch has him cornered until it's too late.

The neighbourhood of the Kudo manor is quiet, at night.

As they head out onto the balcony for a smoke in the moonlight, their conversation turns to hushed whispers. Mellowed by an evening of pleasant company and several drinks, the world sharpens into focus between them, illuminated by the glow of their cigarettes.

Standing would be too visible, so they sit on the stone floor, side by side, like so many times before.

"Hey, Akai?" His name, not his monicker. A chilling sense of dread creeps into his chest. Please, no.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Shuuichi closes his eyes. He can take a good guess where this is going. Thus, he takes a deep drag from his cigarette, and braces himself.

"You know. For letting me meet Zero."

He'd been hoping against hope they could avoid the topic altogether. After all, they've made it several hours without addressing it. But unfortunately, it seems his luck has run out.

(Still, having seen Scotch in good spirits all evening makes it worthwhile, just a bit.)

Maybe they can just move along quickly.

"Think nothing of it."

"No. Akai, listen. I know you had to pull some strings to make it happen, and I want you to know I appreciate that. We appreciate that - even if Zero is pissed. First thing he did was slap me; told me I was late."

Scotch laughs, low and sweet in the night air.

They both know he let himself get slapped - Rei tends to telegraph too much, when he's angry, and surely it's even more obvious for someone so intimately familiar with him. The thought stings. And yet, through it, Shuuichi can't help the help the small smile creeping on his face. That sounds like Rei, all right. He would've liked to see it - someone else the target of his anger, for once.

Scotch seems happy to just bask in the memory, but Shuuichi's curiosity has been piqued.

"Did you manage to resolve your issues?" After all, that was the goal. If they didn't, none of this was worth it - several hoops he jumped through, bureaucratic and personal, for nothing.

"It's tentative, so far, but I have faith we'll get there. We've been through too much, together, at this point. This won't break us... I hope."

Shuuichi is reminded painfully of the bits and pieces he's heard of their childhood adventures. Fishing and fighting and being friends. It must be nice, to have found love so early in life. To get to keep it, too.

"I don't think so, it's clear how much he missed you. I'd be surprised if he ever let you go again." It leaves him a little cold, to no longer be the focal point of Furuya's burning determination. Chasing him was always just a means to an end for getting to Scotch. And now his wish has been granted. Shuuichi hopes it's worth it.

When he smiles, Shuuichi is sure this is Hiro, the person closest to Rei. It burns, but at the same time he finds himself glad that Scotch shines with such utter fondness when he talks of Zero. That's what Rei deserves, after all.

"I hope so. I don't intend to leave again, anyways. Every single day when I was hiding, I missed him."

It's a quiet, gentle admission Akai isn't sure how to handle. All these emotions are a bit too much - he's not used to being thanked, unless it's with useless medals, and he's not used to being confided in. He supposes it's nice that Scotch trusts him enough to lay himself bare like this, nowadays. Still, he can't help but wish for the old times, when they were much better at keeping their feelings out of his face. He's already happy for them; isn't that enough?

Scotch turns to look at him, blue eyes burning bright in the moonlight.

"And I missed you, too."

Cold wind tousles his hair. Shuuichi stares at Scotch.

If he didn't know what to say before, he certainly doesn't do so now. How can Hiro say that so easily? It's too personal. It's one thing to have his little sister say it, who only ever saw an idealized version of him to look up to. For Scotch to say this, despite knowing what he did, who he is - it makes Shuuichi nauseous.

Because he can tell Scotch is being painfully genuine.

'I missed you too', burns in his throat. But too many conflicting emotions keep it tightly sealed. His breathing becomes difficult, requires a conscious effort to take air in, hold, breathe out. Repeat.

And Scotch isn't even done yet.

"Akai. I have to get used to that name now, huh? Feel free to call me by my name, too, if you want."

With how his mind is spinning, it's difficult to figure out what he wants at all, besides for Scotch, no, Hiromitsu to stop. He's ripping apart the bubble of warm nostalgia that was enveloping them so nicely, leaving them exposed to the present. The night is cold and uncertain, without its protection.

"...you haven't been meeting my eyes all evening. Please, Akai - let me know what's wrong. We couldn't, back then, but I'd like to be your friend, now."

It's the kindest smile he's seen on Sc- Hiromitsu yet, and it's too much. Shuuichi has to avert his eyes, can't keep looking at his former partner, all earnest focus placed on him. A shiver runs downs his spine.

There's few things he wants more, in life.

"...we are", he manages to tear from his aching throat, choked up with emotion. This is a bad idea. He's not supposed to get attached. He's just making the same mistake, over and over again. He should've kept quiet.

(If he'd told Akemi how he truly felt, would it have mattered?)

"Then why do you seem miserable, whenever you look at me? Why do you try to avoid me? Don't think I didn't notice."

Of course he did, always too sharp. So helpful, on a mission, and occasionally in private too; he'd know they were getting sick before they really felt it, start treatment with soup and tea early. Taking care of them, even then.

"It's got nothing to do with you, it's-" 'me', he wants to say. Fear and bitter envy, the brunt of which Hiromitsu really doesn't deserve to face. So Shuuichi's been trying to avoid them, and, by extension, his former partner.

He manages to catch himself in time, before he gives voice to feelings that can't be unsaid.

"Yes?" Hiromitsu's voice is calm and patient and Shuuichi hates him for the attention he's paying to him.

He manages to correct his course in time, if barely.

"You and Rei deserve some time alone, now that you're finally back together." It's close enough, only a partial lie. They're so important to each other, and he truly wants them to make up. He'd only be in their way.

"Rei, hm?" Hiro smiles at him. Of course he picked up on Shuuichi's blunder.

He's had just about enough of being cornered. Gets up and is about to head inside and maybe hide in the attic for a while. The door can be barricaded from the inside. Hiromitsu rises after him, puts a hand around his wrist in a vice grip.

"Let. Go." It takes all his patience to not just break Scotch's arm and leave.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Akai. Please, give me half a minute more."

Unfortunately, his best glare stopped working on Scotch several years back. Shuuichi looks at his wristwatch, starts counting down. As soon as Hiromitsu starts talking, he knows his time is better spent focusing on what he has to say, instead.

"Look at me, Akai, and listen up. You can't get between the two of us. I've offered you a place at my side years ago, and Zero... well, he's come around. The offer still stands. It wasn't conditional, but if it was, you would've earned your place easily, by now. I owe you my life, and so does Zero, several times over."

"We did what we had to, and you did the same for me." For the longest time it was that simple, their relationship purely transactional, because Bourbon could only ever deal in exchanges. A favour for a favour.

It's long since stopped working that way, and Shuuichi knows it.

"Oh, please. None us had to do anything more than cooperate on missions, and yet we all chose to do so anyways. You're one of us, Akai. Stop fighting it."

And he wants to, desperately so. The thought of spilling his rotten insides for them to see has him sick to his stomach, and yet, how much worse could it be than what they've already witnessed?

Hiromitsu squeezes his arm, a burning brand of human connection. It staves off the cold, just a little.

When he speaks again, it's soft, but firm.

"You should've joined us for dinner, yesterday. Both of us missed you."

Shuuichi doesn't know what to say to that, too busy fighting his internal battles, but surely something shows on his face, because Hiro laughs at him.

"As amusing as it is to see you flush, no, that wasn't an invitation to a threesome."

...he isn't quite sure whether he's supposed to be relieved, or crestfallen, at this.

"I didn't think-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't." Hiromitsu's smile is too sly and knowing. It's a testament to the fact Shuuichi's spent too much time with Furuya, because wiping it off his face in a fight sure sounds appealing, right about now.

He's always been better at expressing himself through deeds rather than words, anyways.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't need to set the record straight. Zero's furious, by the way. Count yourself lucky that I'm the one breaking the news to you. He doesn't appreciate being set up on a date with his best friend."

Hiromitsu pauses, presumably to let that sink in. Shuuichi stares him down. That is supposed to be new information, how?

"Let me be perfectly clear: I love Zero."

He says it easily, with a sweet smile. It stings fiercely in Shuuichi's chest. By now, he thinks he knows what Hiromitsu is playing at, but unfortunately that knowledge doesn't prevent it from being an effective tactic.

(If this is how Hiromitsu treats his friends, he doesn't want to be his enemy.)

"He's my best friend, I love him like a brother. But he's family. Nothing more, nothing less."

There's a small pang of guilt at the relief that floods his system, but he needs it said explicitly to really believe it.

"You aren't a couple, then?"

Hiromitsu raises an eyebrow, as if to ask 'and why would that matter to you?' But thankfully he's done teasing, or Shuuichi really would need to break something, or rather, someone.

"No. I can see how you got the idea, but there's never been anything between us. Zero says you have a brother? Imagine we presumed the same about you two, just because you're close."

The confirmation lets him breathe more freely, even if it will need time to settle. His mind is still spinning, too many thoughts fighting for control. From this mess, of all things, his long-forgotten manners emerge as the failsafe. "Sorry."

Hiromitsu waves it off with a grin.

"I don't mind too much, we got excellent dinner out of it. Thank you for that, by the way. But do make sure to apologize properly to Rei."

Hiro winks at him, then straightens, looks him in the eye.

Squeezes his arm a final time, before he lets go.

"I mean it, Akai - you're our friend. And I hope you rest a little easier, knowing the truth."

Shuuichi does.

He's five minutes late to the requested location downtown - through little fault of his own, this time.

Masumi's text arrived a mere twenty minutes ago, and the things PSB liaison Akai Shuuichi might get away with, such as speeding, don't apply to the civilian Okiya Subaru (though that would admittedly be a very nice perk of the job).

He can hazard a guess why Masumi didn't send the details earlier as he drives past the building in question to find a parking spot - she probably didn't want to give him time to reconsider and back out.

Because she's dragging him to a goddamn karaoke bar, and, standing in the huddle of girls waiting for him, is Miyano Shiho.

His instincts tell him to cancel, to take up position on the rooftop bar across the street - it would provide easier surveillance options.

(But he's tried to protect Akemi from afar, and failed her, miserably.)

Besides, he promised, and he really does try to be better, these days.

So he smiles, all awkward and apologetic Subaru, as he joins them. It's going to be a long night.

(He's soothed by the smell of Rei's hypoallergic fabric softener clinging to the sweater he picked. Can't help but feel that there would be a certain appeal to sharing them, if Rei were open to the idea.)

The evening goes better than he imagined, all things considered, even if there's crying involved - as is often the case when he meets Mouri Ran.

It's a pleasant distraction, if nothing else.

He keeps an eye on Masumi all night to see what could possibly be bothering her, but as far as he can tell she's genuinely happy to spend the night with her friends. In fact, considering she told him how it had been too long since they'd last seen each other, she pays surprisingly little attention to him.

He prefers it this way.

(Although he would've liked to ask for her advice on how to apologise properly. Alas, this is probably not the right time, or place.)

Mostly he stays at their table, watching the girls' drinks and the crowd, occasionally giving guys who seem to consider chatting the girls up cheerful glares. Masumi made her wishes very clear, after all.

It's a good thing he talked to Scotch Hiromitsu yesterday. Enthusiasm permeates the bar, but unfortunately confidence doesn't equate to talent. Several of the loud, out of tune performances would've been torture with a hangover.

He finds himself humming along to the classics regardless.

As it is, it's almost pleasant. Sure, Shiho keeps ignoring him when it's just the two of them left at the table, but that's better than open hostility. Probably.

(It feels a little worse.)

Two hours in Sonoko ushers Ran to stay with Subaru rather conspicuously.

Smalltalk is stilted between them, lacking in common ground, and it doesn't really help that their connection is through the Kudo family, the memories of which she's here to escape for the night. She's polite as ever, but without the other girls as buffer, the conversation quickly runs dry.

Thankfully, the girls' singing distracts them soon enough. A cutesy pop song about moving on, dedicated to Ran.

She seems about ready to cry halfway through, and by the time they're done she's sniffling and trying to discreetly wipe her tears. Shuuichi gives her a handkerchief and pats her back rather awkwardly in an effort to try and soothe her. He hopes the girls will be back soon to take care of this. He's woefully underqualified to handle this kind of situation.

When they finally do get back, he plans to excuse himself, but before he finds a good time he's swept up in a group hug instead.

Turns out he might have misread the situation - what with Ran being overjoyed at her friends' continued support, and needing to express that, somehow. How exactly that translates into him also being included in their huddle is beyond his comprehension, but he's not going to struggle and cause a scene.

(It's kind of nice to see her smile again - gloominess doesn't suit her.)

It might've been a bit too much excitement for Ran, because around midnight she's almost falling asleep at their table. At this point, the rest of the girls declare their mission a success, and the focus shifts to trying to figure out how to get back in the middle of the night.

Shuuichi volunteers to drive them home.

It's crammed in his little Subaru, but the girls manage, and once he's dropped off Sonoko, things quiet down considerably.

Masumi makes him swear not to tell their mother how long they were out.

He agrees, of course, knowing he got up to much worse as a teen - back when he was still susceptible to peer pressure and living abroad in a fraternity, alcohol made him do very stupid things indeed to prove his worth.

If this is how Masumi chooses to defy their mother, he'll take it - she could be up to so much worse.

She's arranged to stay with Ran; thus, he's released from his services for the night. He watches as they help each other up the stairs, leaning in close, whispering and laughing to each other.

He would make an assumption, now, but Hiromitsu's words are still clear in his mind.

So for now, he refrains, and is simply glad they're supporting each other.

In the end, predictably, Shiho is the only one left in the car.

"Didn't dare to join us wearing your own skin, cousin?"

He shrugs. "Masumi requested Subaru."

"Well. At least you didn't creep on us from several buildings away. Baby steps." 'But progress, nonetheless', her small smile says.

He doesn't know why he says it. Maybe because it's late. Because Scotch Hiromitsu has chipped away at his protective tissue. Because it's Shiho.

"Staying away didn't save her." He doesn't need to say who - the same wound is carved into Shiho's heart, after all. And judging by the songs she chose to sing today, it still bleeds just the same.

She sighs, long-winded and too world-weary for a girl her age.

"No. No, it didn't. All it did was rob us of the time we had with her. Utter idiocy, in retrospect."

Shuuichi hums in agreement. Lost opportunities they'll never get back, all thanks to lies and the wish to protect her.

"I tried to push her away, you know? I was too involved - maybe, if she didn't know what I was doing, she could retain her innocence. Maybe she could even leave, one day, I'd hoped. But she clung to me stubbornly."

Never backing down from what she wanted, from those she loved. That's the women he fell for.

Shuuichi finds himself smiling, somewhat pained.

"She loved you dearly, to the bitter end."

He hands her the flip phone that has been his constant companion for almost a year now. Past the lockscreen waits Akemi's last message to him. With its P.S., asking him to protect her dear little sister, if the worst should come to pass.

He never got to reply to her, to promise that he would, of course he would.

It's short, so Shiho doesn't take long to read it. She attempts to hand it back, eyes glistening, but not crying.

Always composed, in front of him.

"Keep it."

It hurts to let go of it, but Shiho deserves to have assurance of Akemi's love, even in death.

(Unlike himself, who only ever lied to her.)

She looks up at him, uncertain, but what she reads on his face seems enough to convince her. She snaps the phone shut, cradles it to her chest.

Smiles grimly at him. "Thank you."

The rest of the car ride passes in silence.

They split up in front of the Kudo mansion.

"...I was planning to visit her grave on the weekend. You should come."

Shuuichi knows where Akemi's ashes have been laid to rest - he was the one to pay for her funeral, after all.

(Once upon a time, he'd dreamt of a future with her, of being family. Cruel irony, how that turned out to be true.)

Since her parents were never officially buried, and he hadn't been able to reach Shiho, he'd made the selfish decision to have Akemi's ashes stored in the Sera family grave.

He hasn't had the time to visit, yet - first, things had been too dangerous, then too busy, and by now, he's really just been unable to face her, alone. He's glad he doesn't have to, now.

Shiho sets down an incense stick, and some cut flowers - white gladioli. Shuuichi squats down next to her, puts down his flowers - lilies, also white - into the vase and lights the incense.

"Hey, sis. Look who I managed to drag along."

"Hello, Akemi." Sorry it took so long.

They stand, side by side, in silent prayer.

He's had days to prepare himself, to think about what he wants to say to her. But as he stands before her grave, all that's left is sorrow, a hollow in his chest where she should be.

(Filled with regret, and someone else. Jodie's right. He's a terrible partner.)

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth.

I'm sorry I left you behind.

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.

I miss you.

The gentle smile when she talked about her little sister. The sweet blush when he'd kissed her hand. The way she'd awkwardly apologize for flipping the pancake she was making for breakfast into the sink. The ikebana arrangements she'd spend hours and hours on, decorating her flat. Her kind hands, mending his body and soothing his soul. The way the sunlight would turn her hair into gold.

A thousand small joys she gave to him, and all he had for her in turn were lies.

He doesn't remember the last time he cried - maybe as a child, when he fell and scraped his knee. It feels so far away.

His body doesn't remember how to, either - otherwise he surely would be, now.

How cruel. Even in death, he can't show her his honest feelings.

Shuuichi shows her cold comfort, instead.

Takes out a plastic evidence bag he requisitioned from the PSB, and places it on the altar as an offering. In it, the shattered scope of a rifle, splattered with its owner's blood. Gin's. It was found by his side, together with his Beretta, the instrument of his voluntary destruction. As the PSB forces had closed in on him, he'd chosen to kill himself, rather than surrender.

When Shuuichi lies awake at night, it irks him that Gin had a choice, at the end, where he took it away from so many others. He didn't deserve that kindness. A part of him is furious that he wasn't there to see his enemy's dying breaths, preferably through the scope of his rifle.

But it was probably for the best - if he'd been there, he's not sure he could've reigned himself in. Might've murdered Gin with his own two hands, and become the kind of monster he swore to hunt. (And if he's completely honest, there's another possibility: caught in a struggle with his enemy, he might have lost sight of his surroundings and slipped up. Facing Gin, that would've been a death sentence.)

Instead, and he's got the boy to thank for that, he was tasked with keeping their allies - Rei - alive and breathing. He can't help but feel like that matters.

I'm sorry I couldn't avenge you; you deserved better.

But he won't be making anyone miserable, anymore.

It's over, and they're still standing, in defiance of the bloodlust of their enemies. He's managed to keep one promise to Akemi, at least.

I'll continue to watch over her, if she lets me.

Shiho claps beside him, done with her prayer.

Thank you for everything.

The incense stick's stump turns to ash and scatters in the wind.

I hope your spirit can find peace, Akemi.

When he lights himself a cigarette to calm his mind, Shiho holds out a hand, wordlessly, expectantly.

He regards her with mild curiosity, but offers the pack regardless.

"What. You think I haven't done worse?"

She snatches his lighter, and with a hiss of flame, lights up her own cigarette.

"Akemi used to tell me to stay away from drugs, but I deserve this for bringing you here."

She takes a deep drag, managing not to cough. It's clear, from her posture and practiced ease, that it's far from her first foray into smoking.

"I hated you, you know? For the longest time. For playing with her, breaking her heart, leaving her behind, all alone. Leaving her to die."

It burns his lungs, to have his own thoughts voiced out loud, by Shiho of all people. But he deserves every cruel word dropped from her lips - she speaks nothing but the truth, after all. He needs to bear her judgement.

Shiho smiles, grimly. Doesn't look at him, focused on the grave instead.

"But not Akemi. She saw through you, and loved you still. Forgave you, even, because that's the kind of person she was."

A cold spring breeze plays with her hair. The sweater and cap protect him from the worst of it, but it still bites at his face, makes his eyes sting.

"I don't think I can ever be as forgiving as she was. You were, and still often are, an unrepentant jerk."

She turns to look at him, eyes as hard as steel. So familiar his eyes burn. He can't look away.

"But her death is not your fault."

It's cloaked in insults and pain. But it's an absolution he could never have asked for, one no one else could have given him. His breathing stops, then comes a little easier.

"Neither is it Kudo's. Did he ever tell you? He was there, watched her die. For the longest time, I blamed him for not saving her. He's brilliant when he puts his mind to it. Did he care so little, as to not even try?"

She shakes her head.

"It is a cruel thing to begrudge him for having witnessed her death. He was just a kid - small, powerless, afraid. Up against enemies that tried to kill him, too, only failed through sheer luck. I had to first be put into the same shoes to understand that."

As if she's not just a kid now, too. Neither of them should have gone through what they did, and yet it happened, has left them weathered and worn, tired beyond their years. They're still young - he hopes they can recover from the worst.

"I'm trying to tell myself it's not my fault either. She died for me, for us, trying to get us out of there. But I didn't know. She kept it from me, in case something went wrong. And I lie awake, going over conversations, wondering if I missed any signs. If I could've warned her or stopped her. If she could still be here, that way."

He's familiar with the spirals and hypotheticals, repeating the scenario over and over, to look for a way out. It never changes the facts.

"That kind of thinking gets you nowhere."

She gives him a sharp glare, a wordless threat to 'shut the fuck up'. He takes a step back, raising a hand in surrender.

"I know it's useless. Because she is dead, and no amount of analysing can bring her back. At least the one person who truly is at fault will not be a problem any longer. That's a small comfort."

She glares at the scope with barely concealed hatred in her eyes.

"And that's all there is. Akemi was proud and strong-willed - she chose her path. Not reaching out to any of us for help was a choice she made. I can't take away her agency in this matter."

Shiho smiles, pained and beautiful in the setting sun.

"The worst thing is that if she hadn't done what she did, I might still be a prisoner of the organisation. I'd like to think she didn't want to die to achieve it, but she'd be so happy to see me living in the sunlight, once more."

"She would be overjoyed." It's an obvious and simple truth he can't help but confirm.

Oh. Shiho's crying, now, quiet tears trailing down her cheeks, reflecting the sunlight in streaks of gold. It shaves years of her worn face, makes her look as young as she truly is.

He gives her a handkerchief, is glad to see her accept it. She wipes her face, smudging some of the make-up - he'll need to let her know before they return to the public. She doesn't usually like it when people can see past her composure. Shuuichi's pretty sure he, too, shouldn't be here to witness this.

But she doesn't hide from him, today, so he'll take all she gives to him, and treasure it.

"I brought you here because I'm trying to be better. I got a second chance at life, and I want to take it, all of it, for myself and for Akemi. But I won't be able to, if I hold on to useless grudges."

She looks at the handkerchief in her hands.

"You're a jerk, but you're not horrible. And you're trying to be better, too."

She holds out her hand.

"I want to get to know you, Akai Shuuichi. Maybe we could start with meeting for coffee?"

He waits for her to take it back, to reconsider.

She just looks at him expectantly, raises an eyebrow too when he doesn't comply immediately.

Shuuichi is many things, but he tries not to be a coward.

So he fights the vertigo, takes a leap of faith.

"I'd like that."

And shakes her hand.

Sweater Weather AU masterpost

#working title: akai shuuichi and the mortifying ordeal of being known #man. hiro is cruel. showers akai with love to make him confess his silly misconceptions #knows full well the stupid thing akai is agonizing over but still makes him say it...#okiya has been adopted as one of the girls™#not me looking up popular japanese karaoke songs and then not putting them in there #Ran's singing Dry Flower for sure #(Shiho's picked Lemon for Akemi. Akai finds himself quietly singing along)#Masumi Sonoko and a somewhat grumpy Shiho dedicate PonPonPon to Ran #(also I presume Ran is mostly fine with Shiho because she's not her childhood friend/boyfriend who lied to her while living with her.#she knew for the longest time that there was something up with Ai and tried to help her. is probably glad Shiho opened up when she could)#shiho after all of that angst in the end: we're not going to talk about the incest thing ok? ok.#sweater weather AU #you thought Rei slowly getting over his sweater fixation would be the end of it? joke's on you - he's infected Akai #the rich inner life of akai shuuichi #iris writes fic #akam #long post #dcmk #akai shuuichi #miyano shiho #sera masumi

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albertasunrise · 11 months

Text

Day by Day - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (Shorter chapter but I hope you still enjoy! 🤣)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Frankie took things day by day.

There was no other way. Here he was as a new father, having to navigate what should be the best time of his life without you. He was supposed to be doing this with you. The night feeds, the changes and the firsts were all supposed to happen with you beside him but instead, he had Will and Ben popping over on their free days just to give him a little extra support.

No... This isn't how he'd expected this to go.

After your funeral, he had found tooth and nail not to let himself spiral like he had when he'd left the army. You have been there to support him back then. Sat with him as he came down from his coke high and finally being the one to force him to choose between the drugs and those that he loved. Because of you, he had quit cold turkey with little or no help from anymore but you.

He owed you his life.

Without you, he'd surely have been six feet under but now. So that's what made this all the harder to come to terms with. If anyone deserved to be dead for the choices they made it was him... Not you.

Never you.

You were all light and sunshine. You had made his life worth living. Given him something to fight for and now he was left without you to help guide him through this new journey. A journey that really you should have been leading.

"Esme's down for her nap." Said Ben as he walked into the Kitchen, noting how Frankie was staring off into space "Fish?"

"Hmm?" The older man hummed and turned his head so he was looking directly at the younger Miller.

"You okay man?"

"Mhmm." He hummed in response and Ben sighed.

"It's okay not to be ya know?" Ben stated as he walked over to the coffee machine to pour himself a mug "We all miss Titch but-"

"I said I'm fine Ben." Frankie growled as he got to his feet "I have to be!"

"Titchy is so lucky to have you as a dad... She couldn't ask for a better one but it's okay to need help." Ben said as he placed his mug down and walked over to wear Frank was leaning against the counter "We will do everything we can to help you brother but you need to let us in."

Frankie couldn't fight back the tears that threatened to fall. His dam was breaking and he didn't have the strength to keep the waters at bay any longer.

"I just..." Frankie trailed off as he felt one stray tear fall.

"You didn't expect you'd have to do this alone?" Ben asked and Fish nodded his head "Look I get it... Titch and you were meant to be, everyone could see that, and I can't even begin to imagine how you much be feeling right now but I want to help man... I need to do right by Titch." Ben choked "I loved her too."

Frankie nodded before his head dropped and he allowed himself to sob openly. Benny pulled him into a tight hug, holding him as he allowed his own tears to fall and then after a short while they pulled back and gave each other a small nod.

"You're not alone in this Fish." Ben repeated, "Titchy is going to be the most loved and spoilt little princess that ever lived!"

"You're telling me! Will already has a giant stuffed panda arriving tomorrow." Frankie chuckled "Apparently he just 'couldn't help himself'... For such a big guy... Huge softy."

"I have a confession to make..." Ben trailed off and Frankie's eyes narrowed as he waited for the younger man to elaborate.

"I bought her a Giant giraffe!"

Frankie laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. It made Ben smile to see his friend genuinely smile and it made his heart swell to see it.

"She's going to have a zoo at this rate!"

...

Scaling the isles and balancing keeping his now two-month-old entertained whilst searching for the items on his list was quite the feat. It transpired early on that Esme did not like the supermarket. She started to well up the moment he laid her in the baby seat attached to the trolly and he had had to come up with imaginative ways to keep her happy as well as grab what he needed to feed himself.

And today was no different.

He was walking around pulling faces at his grumpy daughter whilst glancing down at the list and grabbing items as and when he spotted them.

"Frankie?" His name being called pulled his attention away from the task at hand and to the voice's owner.

Mary stood there, giving him a sheepish look as her eyes flitted between him and Esme.

"How are you?" She asked as she braved another step forward, her hands wringing as she waited for his reply.

"I'm getting there." Frankie replied as he gave her a weak smile "Hard grieving the woman you loved whilst trying to raise a newborn baby."

Mary gave him a grim nod, her eyes drifting to Esme again and she looked at her longingly a while before she returned her attention to him.

"I've missed you." She started and Frankie sighed.

"Mary I-"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." She interrupted and he stopped in his tracks "It was wrong of me to try and replace her... I just, I wanted to have that with you. Be a family. But I realise now that it was her all along." She sighed "And I don't blame you for it. You loved her and you lost her and I cannot even begin to imagine how you must be feeling but I just need you to know that I am here if you need a friend."

"Just friends?" Frankie scoffed and Mary's eyes widened.

"I mean it." She defended "I know that you and I aren't on the cards but I want to be there to support you if you need it! Help with the baby or just-"

"I have the Millers for that but thanks." He stopped her, knowing that this conversation needed to stop "It was nice seeing you, Mary."

"Nice to see you too Frank." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper "And you too Esme." She finished before waving at the baby and turning to leave.

Leaving Frankie to dwell on what had just happened.

He finished his shop. Successfully managing to avoid any tears and grab everything on his list. Paying for the items he then left the market, chatting away to Esme who was grinning up at him from where she lay. He then looked up in an attempt to spot where he had parked his car and stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there, smiling at him from across the parking lot. He was frozen to the spot as he watched your hand raise up and lay flat, inviting him to hold it.

"Come back to me." You uttered, as your smile widened and then a car horn sounded beside him and his attention was torn away from you and to the car that was waiting for him to move out of the road.

He quickly jogged forward before looking up again, his heart sinking when he found you weren't there anymore and then he shook his head as he remembered that it couldn't have been you.

You were dead.

Esme's cries soon pulled him back to the real work and he was quick to sprint back to the car so that he could scoop her into his arms and attempt to soothe her as his own heart ached.

"I'm sorry baby girl." He said as he rocked her in his arms "I'm sorry I just thought I saw someone." He choked, supporting her head so he could lean her back to place a kiss on her brow "It was just Papi seeing things." He finished before placing her in the car when she finally settled.

After packing his truck, his eyes drifted to the spot where he had seen you standing. You had seemed too real. Like he could just reach out and touch you. Then his mind wandered back to what you'd said to him.

Come back to me...

What did that even mean?

...

2 weeks later...

"Stop hogging the baby man!" Ben grumbled as he tried to pry Esmerelda from his brother's arms.

"How am I hogging the baby?" Will scoffed, grinning at Frankie who watched the two men fawn over his daughter with amusement.

"You've been cuddling her for like... the whole evening!" Ben whined, "I want Titchy snuggled."

"Titchy?" Will Scoffed "Surely bubbles would be a more appropriate nickname for her." He chuckled as he looked at Esme who was blowing raspberries at a child sitting in the chair behind her.

"I think Titchy suits her." Frankie defended, winking at Ben before his eyes locked onto someone familiar standing at the bar.

"Well, I guess she is pretty teeny." Will stated as he finally relented and handed over the infant to his brother, grinning at the smile that filled her features as he took her into his arms "You're definitely her favourite."

"Damn right." Ben agreed as he lifted Esme enough to blow a raspberry on her round tummy.

"Fish?" Called Will when he noted how Frankie was staring off towards the bar, his eyes then following the man's to see what it was that he was looking at "See someone you recognise?"

Frankie didn't answer. He kept his eyes fixed on the figure at the bar, his heart thundering in his chest when they turned around and your face came into view. You were in different clothes from the last time he'd seen you. Dark blue jeans and a cream linen shirt that made you look effortlessly beautiful.

"Titch..." He mumbled, his eyes widening as yours locked onto his and then he was standing.

"Fish... what the?-"

"Can't you see her?" He asked, not taking his eyes off of you as he straightened his spine and smiled sweetly at you.

"See who?" Ben asked, his eyes then drifting to where his friend was looking.

"She's right there." Franky choked as he started to take small steps towards you.

"Who is?" Will demanded again as he stood up to follow his friend, grabbing Frankie's arm to stop him.

"Titch." Frankie growled as he turned his head back to look at him "Can't you see her?" He growled as he motioned at you. his chest heaving as he glared at Will.

"She's not there Catfish." Will sighed and Frankie practically growled.

"Yes, she is! She's right..." He trailed off as he turned his head to see that you weren't there anymore "She was right..."

"Maybe we should head home brother." Will said as he tried to steer Frankie back to the table.

"I'm telling you she was right there!"

"No one is there Francisco!" Will growled, the use of his full name taking Frankie by surprise "Titch is dead!"

"I know that!" Frank yelled, his eyes welling up as he shrugged his arm out of Will's grasp "I know that okay it's just... I swear she was there... I saw her as clearly as I can see you."

"Frankie we all see people we miss from time to time." Will sighed, giving his friend's arm a friendly squeeze "Doesn't mean they're actually there.

"It's not the first time!" He defended "I saw her a few weeks ago at the market."

"Frankie-"

"Don't believe me!" Fish growled, stopping Will in his tracks "But I know what I saw." He sobbed "I saw her..." He trailed off before grabbing his daughter off of Ben and making his way back to the car.

Will and Ben hung back a moment, sharing a look of concern before heading out to catch up with him. He was their ride after all. They knew grief could manifest itself in strange ways but seeing you around seemed a bit extreme. Even for Frankie.

...

"Frankie?"

Fish woke with a start, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he looked around the room for the source of that voice.

"Frankie, can you hear me?"

"Where are you?" He asked, his eyes wide and wild as he continued to scan the room for the source of that voice.

The voice he was sure belonged to you.

"Come back to me." I said and his heart was racing so much he was sure it couldn't be good for it.

"Titch?"

Screaming pulled his attention away from the mystery voice and he turned on the bedside lamp before rolling over towards where Esme lay in her side sleeping cot.

"What's the matter princessa?" He asked as he pulled her to his bare chest " Hungry maybe?" He asked her as he shuffled down the bed so he could get up, grinning when she started to suck on the skin of his peck "Take that as a yes."

He couldn't help but scan the room one more time before leaving it to make Esme her bottle. He was sure it was you. Sure as he could be that that voice had belonged to you and as he perched at the breakfast bar feeding his daughter, he dwelled on those four words you said to him again.

Come back to me...

What did you mean by that?

He wasn't the one that left. You were.

So how could he go back to you? Surely you didn't mean what it sounded like? You wouldn't want him to leave Esme. You would want him to keep living for her if not himself. So why did you keep asking him to go back to you?

It didn't make any sense.

So when Emse was finished at tucked back into bed he lay down and decided it was time.

He had to visit your grave.

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