#i wish that i could go put flowers on my dads grave today its his birthday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

capitainelevi · 3 years

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For @pufferssss, happy late birthday!! ❤️

Waiting for sunrise

Words: 2968

The first and last time Levi visits Petra`s grave.

Levi arranged his cravat again, self-conscious at the thought of visiting her for the first time. He stood frozen in place, with a bouquet of orange lilies in his hand. Her favorite flowers. Just a mere coincidence, not an effort on his part, of course. He never imagined he would visit her here so early on. Staring at the newly carved headstone, he tried to set aside the nagging thought that the earth underneath it only held an empty coffin.

What should he say to her?

“Your dad came to see me after the mission, and I had to tell him that I don`t even have a body to bring back home to him”?

“I failed in getting justice for you and the guys”?

“I miss your tea”?

The only words he could spurt out were “Hi, Ral.”

He groaned at his awkwardness and settled on presenting her with the flowers he chose for her. He could feel his hands getting sweaty from anxiousness, much to his confusion. He had nothing to be nervous about. It was just Petra in front of him. His subordinate. Petra, who fought by his side for years. Who swore to devote her life to him. Just his Petra.

Levi sat on the ground next to the gravestone, unconcerned about the dirt he would have to clean out of his clothes at the end of the day. “I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I like to think you`re listening.” He never spent much time concerning himself with death and the life that supposedly followed it, but ever since losing them as well, he found himself wishing they were happy. He knew that those brats would be wasting the rest they earned to look over him, no matter how much he objected.

“I hope you like the spot I chose for you. It`s sunny, but you also get some shade from the tree. I thought you`d like listening to birds singing." On their free days, he could always spot Petra with a book on her lap, under the shade of the oak tree in their yard. He never dared to bother her, worried he would disturb the angelic aura of the image, content with being fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it. He never dared get so close to the sun.

"I`m going to bring some flowers we can plant next time I visit. I know you had a green thumb.” Levi omitted in letting her know it only took a month for the plant in his office that she cared for years to wither away in his care. Or maybe it just knew Petra would never be back.

Levi closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the quietness around him and the feeling of the afternoon sky on his skin, considering if someone would bother him if he moved to the tree trunk to nap. He craved some peace.

“I`m sorry I didn`t get to come earlier. You missed a real shit show in Sina.” He took a glance at his wounded leg and sighed. “It`s not as bad as it looks, no need to mother me.”

Without raising his eyes from the ground in front of him, Levi admitted to her in a hoarse voice- “I kept calling out orders for you, and Erwin had to remind me that you`re not here anymore. Like I could ever fucking forget.”

Despite the emptiness in his chest, he went on- “Eren misses you. I really wish you could help me manage that brat. You always knew what to say to him. Hange misses you. I… everyone misses you.” They left a hole behind that he doubted he would ever patch.

Levi cleaned off some dust from her headstone before promising her he would be back as soon as he could.

As promised, the second time Levi visited her, he got her some daisies to plant next to her resting place. After wiping his hands clean on a rag, Levi sat down against the tree trunk to admire his work. He was sure Petra would be proud of the progress he made regarding gardening. He had even gotten a new plant to replace the one on his desk.

“Tch, not talkative today, are we? That`s alright, you know I always talk a lot.”

Visiting her calmed his restless spirit. His anxiety over the plan, his worry over Erwin`s wellbeing, his longing to have his old squad by his side again, they were all pilling up for the last few days. Levi found himself losing even more sleep lately. But he would never tell her that since it would most likely end in another one of her scoldings.

“You`re missing it, the final push. The brat`s finally going to do it, he`s going to seal the Wall.” Levi hoped that they would be able to carry out the mission. That his squad`s sacrifice to keep Eren alive would not have been in vain.

“You`re not being fair, are you? You already know what we will find in the basement, and yet you keep it all to yourself. Tch, be like that.” Would it all be worth it? The pain, the countless sacrifices, and the lives lost along the way? He wished Petra could answer that for him.

He never wanted to upset her, but Petra always encouraged him to let others help him carry the burden. Levi took a deep breath before speaking again- “I think Eren misses you. He`s been going on about how he wants to visit you again. Bring you flowers. To help me maintain this place clean." Levi rolled his eyes again and the memory. "Like I would ever need his help with that.”

Levi took the ribbon out of his pocket and started fiddling with it, ignoring the slight pang of guilt at how he came into its possession.

“I hope you won`t mind I took that.” The first night he spent without them, Levi found himself roaming the empty corridors of the castle. When his steps took him in front of Petra`s door, the urge to hold on to something physical to remember her overtook his sense of shame. He was aware that her belongings would go back to her parents in the next few days, but he hoped the red ribbon Petra used to tie her hair with would not be missed.

“I took your patch at first. I was going to keep it in my breast pocket. To have a reminder of your sacrifice. But when I saw that kid eaten up by guilt, I knew what I had to do. I knew what you would have wanted me to do with it.” He had no regrets about that. It was the perfect way to honor the kindest soldier the Survey Corps ever had.

When the light began to fade, Levi got up from his spot and left without saying another word to Petra. He did not want to say goodbye to her. Levi felt no need for it since death could be in his cards the next day. And he could get to see her again sooner than he thought.

The third time Levi visited her, it was not with a flower bouquet in his hand but with a bottle of cheap alcohol he found on Moblit`s desk. That night, Levi allowed grief to consume him.

"Erwin died. But I have a feeling you know that already, don`t you?" Levi wiped his nose with the back on his hand, too absorbed in his anger to even care about the disgusting habit.

"Are you mad at him? Are you mad that he chose to sacrifice your life?"

But only silence greeted him.

"Are you mad that I didn`t even question it?"

No answer again. The rage burning inside him overtook him, and Levi smashed the bottle against the headstone.

"Shit. I`m sorry, I shouldn`t have done that." Levi crouched down and collected the pieces of the bottle into his handkerchief. The grief, the anger, and now the shame for denigrating her place of rest were eating him alive.

"We found out the truth, you know? It`s a shitty world out there, Ral. But I have a feeling not even that would have cut off your wings."

Levi found himself craving touch. Her touch. And for the first time in his life, he felt the need to be comforted. He smiled to himself bitterly. How cruel must the deity who created him be for making him desire the impossible?

The fourth time Levi visited her, he brought a special gift for her. A small, odd thing that Armin called seashell.

“We saw the sea today. Just a big old pile of saltwater. But you would have loved it.”

Seeing the brats play in the water with carefree smiles on their face made him yearn for a glimpse of amber hair in the picture. He missed them all dearly.

“I would have to pull you out of it by the collar of your shirt, I bet.” For as devoted and strict as she was, Petra always seemed to cause him distress. Not that he minded it, of course. Levi found himself wishing to hear her timid knocks on his door again, even in the middle of the night. He longed for those times, where she shyly approached him after needing his help in whatever problem she found herself stuck in again.

While that was not his intention when he first came to her, his heart was heavy with words he never said to her. "The world hates us, Ral." He could never imagine how someone would ever detest someone as kind as Petra just for the blood running in her veins. But if he had to be true to himself, a part of him hated Petra as well.

"Maybe I hate you too."

Petra broke his promises to him, after all. Two years ago, when death was imminent on an expedition, and Petra put down her swords in acceptance, Levi fought with her. He made her promise she would make it to the end. That she would be by his side the day they kill the last titan.

"Do you remember your promises to me? Such bullshit. Never thought you were a liar, Petra."

But Levi knew she would have never left him had she had a choice. That she would have fought for even just a second more by his side. But it never dulled the pain of losing her.

With a heavy heart, Levi said his goodbye for the evening, guilty for blaming her for things out of her control.

The fifth time Levi visited her, it was snowing outside.

It was always a wonder how someone radiating light and warmth could be a winter child. But Levi was sure he memorized the date right. It was an important one for him, after all. Levi fought to make sure he had enough time to get ready for celebrating her birthday. She deserved nothing more than a perfect day. Hange had been more than understanding, the wound left by losing Moblit still fresh in their heart.

Levi put the bouquet of twenty-two golden roses on the frozen ground. “Happy birthday. Twenty-two, huh? You`re turning into an old woman, Ral.” The irony of his words made a slight pang of guilt rise in his chest. The passing of time would never touch her again.

“I have your favorite”- he said, lightly shaking the box containing a small vanilla cake. Sugar was a rarity, but getting a cake was an unspoken rule in his squad. Their lives were too short to worry about the money. The first thing Levi noticed about Petra was the faint flower smell emanating from her. The first thing after setting his eyes on her clean nails, of course. On her first birthday that they celebrated as a squad, Levi gifted Petra a bottle of scented body lotion. And some high-quality cleaning rags, of course. But she did not pay attention to that. She and the rest of the Survey Corps never knew how to appreciate the finer things in life. But Levi did not miss the way her face lit up when he noticed something she enjoyed.

“I could never understand your sweet tooth, but today, I`m going to have a slice of cake.” Levi always refrained from indulging in this vice. Having grown unaccustomed to sugar, the idea of sweetness was unappealing to him. He always felt bad for disappointing her each year when she sat in front of him, with a small piece of cake she had cut for him. “Or two slices. Two is more appropriate anyway. If I get cavities, it`s on your ass.”

The ground was too cold for him to sit down on, and Levi made a mental note to build a small bench close to her headstone. He opened the box and eyed the cake wearily, considering if he should change his mind. He took a small bite of the cake, and he almost choked on it. “Oi, this is so damn sweet. How the fuck could you eat so much of it?” But it did not stop him from finishing his slice.

Levi expected to find some flowers lying in the snow or at least some tracks leading up to her grave.

“Does your old man still come around? I`ve never crossed paths with him since the expedition.” Sometimes, when he closed his eyes at night, he could still recall Mr. Ral`s pained expression when he realized there was no one left for him to wait for.

“Maybe it`s for the best. I bet he doesn`t want to see me again.” To see the face of the man who was supposed to protect his daughter. The face of the man his daughter wanted to devote her life to. The man who could not even bring him a body home to bury.

“I`m a shit. Ruining your birthday with talk like this.” Levi was never good at this. In his spot, Eld would have teased Petra about her first expedition. Tell her how now that she was a big girl, she ought to refrain from soiling herself again. Petra would turn red from embarrassment and elbow Eld in the ribs. Gunther would point out that despite their age, they are still children. And proceed with teasing Petra himself. Oluo would try to defend Petra`s honor to gain her attention, which would make him the target instead. Levi gave a small smile at the thoughts. He missed them dearly, more than he would ever care to admit.

Levi crouched down and cleared the layer of snow covering her headstone. He ran his finger alongside the letters of her name, wishing he would have had more opportunities to write it down.

“Happy birthday again, brat.”

The last time he visited her, Levi had company. Gabi and Falco did not give it another thought before offering to help him see her again before they would all leave for a new life. A better life, he hoped. But without her by his side, it was never going to be perfect. Gabi set down the flowers before they gave him privacy. While they never asked him about who she was, they knew Levi must have cared for her a great deal.

"Hi, brat. It`s been a while."

He had so much to say to her, and yet, he did not know where to start. A part of him expected to join her during the last battle, but fate always had something new in store for him. Levi was uncertain if it was luck by his side or a curse to watch everyone he ever cared about die. But life was looking brighter, and Levi promised himself he would never lose anyone again.

"Are Hange and Erwin with you now? How about the guys?" He wished for nothing more than to be there by their side. But Levi knew they would never forgive him if he did not try to live the remainder of his life to the fullest. And for them, he would try.

"Does Oluo still bite his tongue? Did he try to flirt with you again? Is Eld still teasing you? Does Gunther still treat you as a little sister?" Levi chuckled at the memory of their antics. He learned the hard way that he never appreciated them enough before he lost them.

"I hope there is an afterlife. I hope it`s peaceful. You all deserve it. Such a shitty end..." He closed his eyes and sighed at the words coming out of his mouth. "I`m sorry, I didn`t mean it. But you already knew that. I was always an open book to you."

Levi felt guilty for leaving the home they bled for behind, but if he were truthful, it had not felt like home to him for years. With no one left by his side, nothing was keeping him in Paradise anymore. While neither of them voiced it out, he had dreamed of a future with Petra by his side. And for her, he would try to live a long and happy life. Before he got to be with her.

"I`m sorry... for the future I never got to offer you. The one you deserved. I`m sorry for the house I never got to build for us, for the vows we never got to take, for the brats that will never play in my backyard." Levi knew Petra would encourage him to find love, but he never would again. He could never imagine a future by someone else`s side.

Levi glanced back at her grave for one last time before he set out for the remainder of his life- "I`ll see you soon. Wait for me."

ao3

#petra ral #rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #rivetra fanfic #my writing

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the-moon-prince · 3 years

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The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter I

AN: Hi my lovely fellows! I’m making a Kurapika x reader! This will be the first chapter. Overall I’m trying my best for you to insert yourself in the story as good as you can. However, some point who are going to be relevant in the plot a little further, like (Y/n)’s age, Profession and first language have been modified.This is my debut as a fanfiction writer here on tumblr!

As now, I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the first chapter of my story. (Second coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 783

TW: None!

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5 am The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears. The same noise as every morning. Another day to go on. He woke up with this peculiar feeling, but so familiar to him. That unnamed pain hit him again as his senses started to stir. The bed beneath him felt cold and foreign. The morning was dull to him. Seeking to shake the feeling away, he sat up and stretched. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes burned. Just another morn after a terrible night with limited sleep and disagreeable dreams. That tiredness was omnipresent in his life for the last months. He immediately saw the space that wrapped him. Empty, just the drawer, nightstand, a lamp, and blank white walls. Finally, getting up from the bed and arranging the also white sheets. Going to the drawer and pulling out his work uniform; a white shirt, black trousers, black tie, and a black jacket. Taking his loose pajama pants and shirt off and starting to button the white shirt. Thinking annoyed at how he had to abide another day Neon dramatically said how sad, miserable, and lonely she felt. The fairly frustrating attitude she had been insisting on the last weeks. What did she know about misery and solitude? Once dressed, he left his bedroom to the tiny hall of his apartment. Leading to the small room alongside his. The big black door remained in front of him. He stared at it for a moment. A certain doubt in his mind made its presence. Lastly, he opened the door, glancing at the scarlet eyes floating on the jars displayed in the room, and closed the door. The emptiness seemed greater than the last morning. He wondered one more time while putting his shoes on, what did he yearn? What did he lack to feel once more this abyss? He stepped outside his home and took a deep breath, the swampy air feeling his lungs. And head straight to the Nostrade mansion. He passed the big entrance gate, the security of the Nostrade's residence, and arrived at the main room. Unlike what Kurapika might have thought moments ago, there was something new that morning. An unknown person was sitting on one of the multiple couches, apparently waiting. Wich piqued his curiosity. Their guise was quite formal and unique, white cigarette bottoms and a moss-green long-sleeved sweater with a white dress shirt underneath. However, the shirt's collar was embroidered with a peculiar decoration. A botanic motif of tiny red, yellow and blue flowers plus green leaves was along the tip of the collar. Naturally, Kurapika carefully observed the intruder to determine if it was a possible menace. The individual had (long/short/medium/ with bangs) (curly/straight/wavy)(hair color) hair; it was loose and a bit messy. Some strands were framing their face. Their body had a juvenile apparent, around one or two years younger than him however their face looked more childlike. Their gaze was lowered into the book, so Kurapika was unable to see the eyes. He just saw the (long/short) eyelashes moving with the occasional blinks the person gave and some eye bags from fatigue. They were sitting with their legs crossed, one hand was holding the book, and the other was rubbing the green fabric of the sweater between the index and the thumb. They gave an overall serene aura. It wasn't long before a butler came near Kurapika. -"Mr.Kurapika, Sir. Nostrade requested to have the young guest to his office. For security reasons Sir. Nostrade wants one of the bodyguards to watch over the guest. Please take them there." Kurapika agreed with a quick "understood" and made his way towards the outsider. Kurapika stopped in front of the sitting figure. "Excuse me, Mx"- The person reading gave a slight quiver in surprise to immediately put the book down and look up at him with a subtle and soft smile. Despite looking up at him, they didn't look directly into his eyes, fixing more in his mouth.- "Mr.Nostrade charged me to take you to his office, please accompany me." he addressed the outsider with a secure tone. "Hello, and thank you" was the quiet response the stranger gave him. Getting up and ranging the book in a black side bag. "This way." The person quietly followed behind him through the hallway, examining the distinct decorations and pieces of furniture all over the mansion. Once the both of them arrived at the office's door, Kurapika gave a knock, letting their attendance be known, followed by a grave "Come in" from Light Nostrade. Kurapika rapidly opened the door and entered the room. At the center of the room was Light Nostrade, sitting at his big wooden desk. Accompanying the desk, a coffee table and matching sofas were placed over a luxurious carpet. In one of the sofas, Neon was sitting playing with one of her stuffed toys. Mr. Nostrade without a word gave the guest sign with his hand to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, as the foreigner obliged. "Neon, this is (Y/n), they're your new companion and therapist. As you have let me know lately, you've been feeling bored and alone. As your dad, your welfare concerns me. So I searched for one of the best professionals to improve your state." -The man addressed the young girl next to him, to take the phone to his desk right away and address it to someone on the other line-"Let the rest of Neon's bodyguards in" -In an instant, the rest of the bodyguards entered the room- "Mx. (Y/n) present yourself to the rest" Mr.Nostrade finally ordered. (Y/n) got up in a unique move from the chair, and facing the rest of the company in the chamber, with their hands clasped in front of their body, they declared "Hello, I'm (Y/n) it's a pleasure to meet and work along with you."-(Y/n) presented themselves with a small politeness reverence, then they turned to faced Neon-"Neon, I am a Doctor with a specialization in psychiatry medicine. I, moreover, am a certified Hunter and I'm here to take care of your psychological and physical integrity. If required I can protect you in case of aggression. Besides I'm here to treat your loneliness and improve your mental health. I honestly hope my faculties will help develop several health skills!" they finally finished, all the discourse was made with the same quiet and kind voice tone, with the subtitle smile never leaving their face. After the quick initiation, Neon's face went from attentive to a worried grimace to shout "DAD!!! AM I SICK?!?" (Y/n) tilted their head and stepped to Neon softly reassuring her "No Neon, don't worry, you're not sick. I am here just to prevent you from being sick. I'll take good care of your mental and physical state and keep you amity so you remain as happy and healthy as always! In other words, I'm your private psychotherapist." Following those words of reassurance Neon's face lights up in a smile "YAY, So you're my new companion! Finally, I won't be so bored around here! I'm Neon, but you seem to already know my name. You look strangely young, you know? Plus you have a weird accent when you talk!" Of course, Neon added lacking discretion as always. (Y/n) just tilted their head once more, without changing their friendly air they responded "Of course I have an accent, Neon, all chic and elegant people have one, like David Bowie or Kate Bush. And regarding my age, It's judged preferable to have someone closer to your age to establish a more organic cooperative relationship." -The response to the rude observations of Neon was devoid of any malice, it was rather merry and kind, giving Neon the sensation of friendship and calm -"If you'd prefer to consider me your "companion" is fine. As planned with your father, I will be with you every Tuesday, Thursday from 11:00 am to 8:00 pm and Saturdays from 2:30 pm to 7:30 pm. But today as being our first day, I'll be entire with you!" The grin on Neon's face just became wider "YOU'LL SEE, I AM GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN FROM NOW ON!''-Neon called once more, grabbing (Y/n) from their arm and dragging them somewhere. The (hair colored) didn't protest, just flinched to the sudden touche-"COME TO MY ROOM, WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO!" The stranger's identity and intentions finally became clear for Kurapika, letting him discard (Y/n) as a hazard. We followed them into Neon's room to guard the Nostrade's teenager. Hours passed by. Neon talked about all the nonsense she could think of, as (Y/n) seemed to pay special attention to every word the girl spitted out. Sometimes making some comments and writing down in a little (fav color) notebook with a little cat they took off their said bag. Kurapika was just sitting on one of the couches, some sort of relieved to have someone else to take care of Neon's heavy personality and tantrums. "She even seems calmer today, having some entertainment will be profitable to her. " he thought. Even if Neon was, in fact, calmer that day, you could still hear her from across the room. "Your notebook is really cute, you know? Where did you get it? Cats are SOOOOO cute! I want one like that!" "Thank you Neon! I got it at the novelty store in the Mall that's in the center of the town. I go near there quite often, I can get you one if you'll like. Also, I think I'm going to take my break now if you don't mind. I will go make some tea, would you wish some, Neon?" (Y/n) actively added to the chat, even if it's their first day, they seemed to fuse nicely with Neon, rather odd due to Neon's personality. "Nah, I don't like tea" the teen finally responded, getting a soft nod in agreement as an answer. (Y/n) got up from the chair they were sitting on and headed to the employee's kitchen. Not much time later, they came back with a cup of tea and a bottle full of tea. To Kurapika's surprise, (Y/n) handed him the cup of tea with the soft smile of always. They simply added an "I made you some tea, you appeared a touch worn, I hope it's okay". That was the first of many little acts of kindness (Y/n) had with him. They would make him some tea regularly in the day or ask about his day during the breaks. During the following weeks in which (Y/n) was going to give therapy to Neon, a lot of things could be perceived. The first was the improvement in Neon's attitude. Being gradually more used to friendly human interaction, and having a better understanding of her frustrations. The second was about (Y/n), they were a rather nice person, gaining some sort of (or what was the most resembled) sympathy from Neon, which was a feat considering the lack of empathy of Neon. They were polite to everyone in the Nostrade's mansion, and their job as Neon's special doctor was their 4th job. Melody, during a casual chat, learned that (Y/n) worked Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturday mornings as a Psychoanalyst between a Psychiatric ward and a Private Doctor's Cabinet, and the mornings of the days she came to assist the Nostrade's daughter as an intermediary liaison psychiatrist (basically someone who gives psychiatric supportive treatment in non-specialized unities) in the YorkNew General Hospital Center. This explains largely the eyebags and exhaustion for which (Y/n) has earned comments from Neon such as "You know you have eyebags?". Also, that (Y/n) has 18 years of age (sorry dear readers if it's not your age, but this will be relevant for the plot, so please let me this one pass), remarkably young to be an accredited doctor. And they were "precocious" on their own words- as Melody said- And the third and last thing, noticed essentially by Kurapika was about (Y/n) comportment and personality. Even if (Y/n) was kind and polite to everyone, they were incredibly discreet. They acted with prudence in virtually all aspects, from their appearance to their very presence. Like if (Y/n) was hiding and acting from the shadow (Melody also commented about this borderline anxiety). Additionally, all the movements (Y/n) made were prudent and meticulously planned, which made Kurapika realize the intelligence (Y/n) had. He also could tell English was not (Y/n)'s first language. They had a peculiar pronunciation and spoke with a large and fancy vocabulary. Those things greatly aroused Kurapika's curiosity, but the part of (Y/n) that triggered that curiosity the most was related to (Y/n)'s eyes. They were very careful with the subject. So careful indeed that they were even subtle with the care they treated the subject. Were tiny and nearly unimportant actions from (Y/n) that made Kurapika realize the importance of their eyes. (Y/n) never looked anyone in the eyes. Sometimes, during the break, when feeling exhausted or overwhelmed, (Y/n) would close their eyes and cover them with one hand. The biggest event of all was one time he listened to Neon through the door curiously ask "Hey (Y/n), what happens with your eyes?" and, when he opened the door to see if everything was correct, (Y/n)'s eyes were normal. As if nothing had happened. Kurapika had for sure some inquiries regarding (Y/n). However, all of his suspicions became more prominent with a precise action from (Y/n). One day, Neon decided to show (Y/n) her body part collection. "(Y/n) You're a doctor, I'm sure you're going to love this! You know about these things, You'll be able to appreciate my glorious collection!" Neon was bragging about how happy she was with her various articles. "I have hearts, livers, fetuses, all the parts of the brain, some left and right lungs, and a pancreas. And my favorite of them all! A pair of beautiful scarlet eyes!" Neon made a special address on how rare the scarlet orbs were and how proud she was of them, she even played with them a little. And for the first time, (Y/n) didn't say a thing. Their perpetual smile even faded a little. During the whole episode, Kurapika remained sitting on a chair. Hearing that kind of discourse about his clan's eyes was hurtful and infuriating. How could she talk in such a manner of his fellow Kurtas? With no compassion, like if they were a mear object. It was sickening. A dull and hurt expression plastered on Kurapika's face. He was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice it already was break time. If it wasn't for (Y/n) who came to sit beside him in an attempt to comfort his sorrow. (Y/n) had their gaze lowered and, for the first time, wasn't smiling. It wasn't a gloomy face, more like a flat expression. They didn't say a word and just stayed near him. Similar as if they seemed to comprehend. It wasn't until Kurapika looked at (Y/n) that they gave him a tiny smile. Nevertheless, this smile wasn't like the usual one. It was more caring, full of empathy and kindness, but also pain. None of them said a single word. And even if he never stated a thing about the subject, Kurapika felt a little comforted. At the end of that day, where everyone was heading to their own houses after such a hard working-day, (Y/n) came to Kurapika. He deduced they would just wish him a nice night. Except it wasn't the case. "Kurapika, pardon me, may I speak to you for a bit, pretty please?" (Y/n) mumbled to him, with the identical smile as always. A bit confused by their request, Kurapika responded, "Sure (Y/n), how may I help you?" forthwith to its answer (Y/n) made him follow them to a more private place behind the Nostrade's mansion. (Y/n) looked down as they had their hands in front of their chest, similar to the pose of a meerkat, and was fidgeting with their fingers. "Kurapika"- then they looked up to him-"I know I'm putting my life on the line. Yet, what I'm about to do is an act of desperation wholly motivated by my conclusion. Are you somehow related to the scarlet eyes?"

#kurapika x reader #kurapika hxh #hxh #hunter x hunter #kurapika #hxh x reader #hxh scenarios #hxh drabbles #kurapika kurta #kurapika imagine #kurapika kurta x reader

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

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Brettsey please “so not to be rude or anything but i’ve been coming to this cemetery at this time on this day every week for fucking years and i’ve always been alone up until now seriously what the hell” au

Ok anon I REALLY have to apologize because this request has been sitting in my inbox for probably a month or two now but I didn’t get the inspo to finish this until last night. That being said, I got this into a short little oneshot so I hope you enjoy!!

Tags: alternate universe, grief, mourning, light emotional hurt/comfort, meet cute

Word count: 2922

183 days.

It’s been 183 days since Sylvie last visited Julie. 183 days thinking about how things should have been different. How Julie was supposed to survive, how her and Scott and Amelia were supposed to be a family. How Sylvie was supposed to reconnect with her, to finally know the woman who had given Sylvie her own life’s blood.

She was supposed to have more time.

Instead, Sylvie ends up feeling like more of a stranger to Julie than ever. The last time she visited was the funeral, and that hadn’t done much for her in terms of closure. If anything, it made her feel more out of place. Random strangers came up to her, asking how she knew Julie. Sylvie can still remember the confused looks on their face as she’d told them Julie was her birth mother who had given her up at sixteen years old, and the awkward condolences that came stuttering out of their mouths afterwards. She’d felt too guilty eventually, and left early. Who the hell was she anyway, to be tainting everyone’s view of her birth mother at her own funeral?

She hasn’t been to visit Julie’s grave ever since. All Sylvie had done was stay with parents for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks, and then a few months. Today marks month six of her stay there. Her parents had told her they’d be happy to have her. They hadn’t been receptive to the idea of Sylvie meeting Julie in the first place, so they were more than willing to help her through the loss. The only condition was that she had to go to therapy and work through her grief, which Sylvie happily agreed to. But last week, her therapist suggested she visit Julie’s grave to get ‘true closure’, whatever that means. It’s a strange idea to Sylvie but nothing else seems to be working. Her boss had assured her that Fowlerton was much too peaceful (the polite way of calling the town boring, and rightfully so) and it would do just fine without its favourite paramedic for a few days. So, reluctantly, she accepted.

That’s why Sylvie’s now halfway through an hour-long drive to Chicago, all the way back to the cemetery. She buys hydrangeas at a tiny flower shop she passes by when she first enters Chicago territory. They’re Julie’s favourite. They were Julie’s favourite

Her fingers anxiously tap at the wheel when she finally pulls into the cemetery. It’s a dreary Sunday, grey clouds hovering in the sky bringing the prominent threat of rain. The graveyard is empty when she gets there, from the looks of it, except for one single person. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a man around her age sitting on a bench near a grave, his eyes observing her curiously from over his shoulder. He’s not someone she knows-- she doesn’t really know many people here in Chicago after all-- but she ignores his lingering eyes. Shades of grey stick out against the field of green and wilted flowers are scattered across other tombstones. It feels like a ghost town, for lack of a better term. It’s gloomy and it looks like no one’s visited this place in a while. Even for a cemetery, the sight is a depressing one.

Sylvie slams her car door shut and takes a deep breath. Relax, she thinks. Just a quick drop by to see her, place the flowers, and then leave. You can get through this.

She makes a beeline towards Julie’s grave, less than 100 feet away, and stops dead in her tracks when she gets there. Her feet feel heavy in her pink rain boots, sticking out like a sore thumb against her black coat as she observes the tombstone.

Julie Walters

Loving wife and daughter

1973 - 2019

Sylvie doesn’t know how to feel reading those words. A whole life, one she only scratched the surface of, reduced to a mere four words and eight numbers. It’s underwhelming, and she doesn’t know whether to feel relieved that Julie’s entire being wasn’t etched onto stone or insulted that they could summarize her in so few words.

Maybe it’s for the best. What else would they put on there anyway: that she was a flawed human who left behind a child who she wasn’t ready to have, only to die before she could see her second daughter years later when she was finally ready for one? When she was finally ready to reconcile with her first born? Yeah, it was definitely for the best.

She places the bouquet of hydrangeas on the wet grass next to the tombstone and stands back. Man, this is harder than she thought. The words are there, racing in her head, but they don’t come out. Every time she wants to say something, it gets caught in the back of her throat.

Sylvie’s trying to pick from a list of infinite questions and countless ways to begin when she feels a chill on the back of her neck. At that moment, a voice comes from behind her. “Hi, are y--”

“Ah!” Sylvie shrieks, the voice startling her. She nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns around in shock, only to see a guy standing in front of her. It’s the same guy, she realizes, that had been staring at her earlier. Now, up close, she guesses that he can’t be all that much older that she is. He has blonde hair that’s short at the back and longer at the front, his eyes a soft shade of blue-green. His jacket and boots are a little worn but other than that, he looks completely normal. Except for the fact that he’s the only other person in this whole cemetery, and he just came up to her from behind without making a sound.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures her, his hands up in surrender.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” Sylvie lets out a big breath, shaking off the nerves from the jumpscare.

“Not to be rude or anything, but I just-- I’m usually the only one here,” he explains awkwardly.

“Are you a groundskeeper or something? I can leave if you guys need me to.”

“No no,” he laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “I work in construction, actually. But I’ve uh.. I’ve been coming here the same time, every Sunday for years now to visit my dad. Nobody’s ever here when I am, so I figured you must be new.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she offers. So okay, he’s not such a creep after all. Actually, he’s kind of sweet. “He must have been a really great dad, for you to be visiting him every week after all these years.”

“He… had his moments,” the man explains delicately. “Honestly, he wasn’t the most affectionate guy. I guess I just don’t want to end up like him. Jaded and cruel.”

Sylvie nods understandingly, because she gets it. Her parents are loving and supportive, but she’s had some exes that have put her through the ringer. Her first real love, Harrison, had been manipulative and heartless. She’s always hoped that these awful guys wouldn’t change her for the worse either.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this. I’ll get out of your hair,” he offers. “But uh, here. Take this.” The guy holds out a single rose, which Sylvie accepts.

Her eyebrows narrow in confusion at the gesture. “A rose?”

“Yeah, well, my dad has been getting a dozen roses a week from my family since I was 17, he won’t turn over in his grave if he gets 11 just this one time. I’m sure whoever you’re grieving could use it a lot more than he could.”

Sylvie’s confused expression softens into gratitude, a faint smile pulling at her lips. This guy, whoever he is, didn’t have to do this for her. It’s a sweet gesture. He really does seem nice. No catches, no mind games, just simple and kind. She hasn’t met a guy like that in a while, at least not one her age. “That’s actually really sweet, thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Sylvie, by the way,” she introduces herself awkwardly. Everything about this situation is awkward, frankly. But she extends her free hand anyway. “Sylvie Brett.”

“Matt Casey. I wish it were under nicer circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.” His smile is wide as he takes her hand and shakes it. It’s confusing, but it makes Sylvie smile all the same.

“You seem awfully cheerful for someone who’s in a graveyard,” she observes.

“Like I said: I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m sort of all talked out now,” Matt explains with a shrug.

“Right,” she nods. “I wish I could relate. Normally I’m the one who’s cheerful and talkative, but it’s hard with this sort of thing. Everything I want to say just doesn’t seem to come out. Sometimes, I think if I start talking…”

“You’ll never stop?” He guesses.

“Yeah.” How did he know?

“Well I can tell you from experience that you definitely do stop talking at one point. I got all talked out two years ago. I looked around one day and realized I was talking about types of screwdrivers to my dad’s grave with no one else around. Eventually, you’ll run out of topics like I did. And then new ones will come, and you’ll talk some more, and then you get quiet again and then you just… stop talking.”

“I hope so. I’m a big talker-- I mean seriously, I never shut up-- but I just… I don’t know where to start with this one,” she explains.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you visiting?”

“Julie Walters.” She points to the tombstone in front of them. “My birth mother.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Sylvie’s heard those six little words before. She had to stomach every single insincere, fake utterance of sympathy when she was at the funeral. But for some reason, the way Matt says it to her makes her think he really means it. She’s not used to people meaning it when they offer their condolences. It’s strange. Then again, this whole interaction is strange. “It’s okay,” she brushes it off.

“It’s not. At least, it doesn’t have to be,” he soothes. Something about his voice is so horrifyingly comforting. It’s calm and low, and it feels like warm tea and honey in her ears. It’s enough to make her want to burst into tears right then and there .

Sylvie takes a deep breath and then, before she can stop herself, breaks the silence to ramble. “I love my parents, you know? They raised me, they fed me, they’re responsible for the person I’ve become. But I’d always wondered where I came from, why my birth parents gave me up for adoption. And when Julie sought me out, I panicked at first. I wasn’t ready to give up that fantasy in my head of who she was, to have all my questions answered. But now I’m standing here, visiting her grave for the first time in the six months since her funeral by recommendation of my stupid grief counselor, and I… I just can’t stop thinking of all the questions I was too scared to ask. And man, it sucks.”

Matt stands there and nods understandingly, his gaze unwavering even as she turns her eyes towards Julie’s tombstone.

“I’m sorry,” she continues, wiping tears from her cheek. “We just met, and I’m rambling, and--”

“No no, it’s good for you,” he assures her. “ And I don’t mind it, I-- I like hearing you talk.”

“Oh.” Sylvie looks around, unsure of what to say. This Matt Casey guy, whoever he is, hasn’t run for the hills by now which is strange to say the least. But weirdly, it’s comforting.

“You’re right, you know,” he continues, switching the subject. “It sucks. Life… life sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agrees, letting out a small laugh. This makes Matt laugh a little, which makes Sylvie laugh even more, until they’re both smiling and giggling in a cemetery like a bunch of blushing lunatics. It’s quite possibly the weirdest thing Sylvie’s ever experienced and yet somehow, it’s exactly what she needed. A bright light in the vast sea of darkness.

“You’re smiling again, that’s a good sign.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Am I crazy for that? I mean, I’m smiling and laughing in a graveyard with somebody I just met. Isn’t that weird?”

“A little,” he admits with a shy laugh. “But you’re not crazy. Sometimes people need a little bit of weirdness in their lives.”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” Sylvie shrugs playfully.

“Yeah.” He flashes her another smile before turning his attention towards Julie’s grave and facing it with her. Sylvie stares at the marked stone. She fondly remembers the few memories she had with Julie, and the countless ones they never got around to. It’s unfortunate, really, but it feels more manageable with someone there. Even if it’s someone she barely knows. Matt stands with her for a moment, the peace and quiet taking over. It’s nice. Sylvie’s never had silence be so comforting; it’s always made her anxious and uncomfortable up until now. Matt sure is a puzzling guy in that sense. She sneaks a peek at him through the corner of her eye, this guy who’s supporting her even though they just met. He’s lost someone too, he could be going back to his father’s tombstone. Instead, he’s staying there with her. Sylvie decides at that moment that Matt Casey is an unfailingly kind, weirdly solid guy. And, admittedly, a little attractive. Ok, a lot attractive.

“Hey, and don’t worry,” she adds after a few minutes of silence, “about being like your father. We aren’t our parents. And you seem… good. That’s all you can ask for I guess, is to be one of the good ones.”

“Thanks,” he nods, his eyes filled with a bit of confusion and a bit of something else Sylvie can’t quite place. Wonder, almost.

Sylvie turns back to Julie’s grave, tracing over the words with her eyes. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so scary. Sylvie’s still sad, and wounds take time to scar over, but it doesn’t feel like she’s bleeding out anymore. She sighs, and she can sense the weight on her shoulders blowing away into the wind.

Unfortunately, when the sorrow blows away with the wind, it brings in the rain.

“Oh god,” Matt groans, wincing while looking up just on time to catch a raindrop in his eye. He squints and turns to Sylvie, who’s standing there laughing. “I didn’t see this in the weather forecast for today.”

“Me neither,” she giggles. “Today’s full of unexpected things, I guess.”

“It is.” He gives her a shy smile, nodding in agreement.

“Do you mind the rain?” She asks, looking up at the gloomy sky with a smile on her face.

“No,” he replies gently.

“Me neither.”

They stand there, hoods pulled away from their heads, letting the rain wash over them. There’s no shelter in sight anyway. They talk for a while about Chicago, about their lives, their friends, things that make them happy. But then they fall into a comfortable silence, smiling peacefully in the rain. Sylvie only moves a few times to brush raindrops off of the bouquet of flowers she’d placed at Julie’s grave. She looks at it, the name and the date etched in stone, and she doesn’t feel sick anymore. No questions unanswered, no bitterness. Her loss feels manageable.

She’s okay. More than okay.

“Hey, this might sound a little crazy, and I know we just met,” Matt starts after a while, “but would you want to… go get dinner or something?”

“What, like a date?” She snorts at her own joke, the idea being very nice in theory but impossible. It’s seriously impossible that this guy is actually asking her out, right?

“Er, yeah,” he nods. “Like a date.”

Oh. Okay, so he was asking her out. This is unfamiliar territory for Sylvie. She’s been asked out before, of course, by the small-town idiots in Fowlerton. But by an admittedly very good-looking stranger, under these circumstances no less? It’s a bit of a bizarre situation. That’s the crux of it, though. Matt Casey, whoever he is under all these sweet, charming layers, doesn’t feel like a stranger. Somehow, through one chance encounter, it feels like catching up with an old friend.

When she considers the facts, she’s had fun today. Every interaction they’ve had has come with such ease, and from a place of goodness and light. Yeah, maybe it’ll go absolutely nowhere. But one date in a public place won’t hurt her. She’s in Chicago for the rest of the weekend anyway. If anything, going out with someone like Matt Casey would do her a lot of good. And she hadn’t realized it until now but god, she really really wants to. So she does.

“I’d like that,” she finally replies while brushing rain off of her coat.

“Yeah?” He asks to make sure, his face lighting up with hope and slight excitement. Sylvie finds it adorable.

“Yeah,” she assures him.

He nods and grins excitedly as he leans in closer, and Sylvie feels the happiest she’s felt in a long time when he finally replies. “Me too.”

#this is a little rushed lol #also ik if i met anyone at a cemetary i would be weirded out but i tried to make this cute???#i just hope i was successful lol #brettsey #au prompt request #alternate universe #meet cute #light emotional hurt/comfort #mourning

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gaylonelydyke · 3 years

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if it’s not too late, 12 for episodes and ships, and 17!

its never too late! thankyou for the ask 🥰 oo damn this is gonna be a hefty one, just to prepare you this is gonna be long 😅😅😅

spoiler alert for my friends who are finishing up season 2 rn, be careful if you look at my top five episodes, pay attention the the episode numbers, i will put [ ] in bold at the beginning and end of spoilers!

12. Top 5 ships

5. faith x myself because have you seen faith? shes such a babe! spare consensual kiss maam?

4. willow x oz, i dont know if this is an unpopular or not but i feel like if the 90s had been more accepting of term then willow wouldve been bisexual, but like even now tv shows will rarely let characters say that word :( but anyway i love them! theyre both quirky and kinda awkward but its such a sweet relationship and you really see how they go from awkward crushes to an actual deep relationship, oz is one of my favourite characters too what a dude!

3. giles x jenny, mlmxwlw solidarity in this bisexual couple! there is no an ounce of straight between them and i love it, i love their dynamic, i love that giles *respects women* (im staring daggers at xander rn), also the original girlboss x malewife couple askdjaksjhd

2. drusilla x spike, these two!!!!!! once again a bisexual couple with zero straight between them, the vibes are off the charts. sexy vampires, goth x punk love, i just love them man, and their relationship is so interesting to delve into. like theyre vampires, theyre soulless and yet they have a capacity for love, they care deeply for eachother, theyre so tender towards eachother in season 2 in the way they take turns to care for one another, also drusilla picking spike up with one hand made me gay and thats on that

1. willow x tara!!!!! lesbians man lesbians! they have a beautiful relationship, until a certain point wink wink, they feel like a perfect match, willows become more outgoing due to buffy and xander snd having a proper group of friends, so its cool to see her as the more outgoing independant one in the relationship, and tara is such a honey 🥺 the biggest sweetheart in the world what a babe!!!! also like how groundbreaking was their relationship? as a queer couple, they had p much the dame amount of screentime as a aueer relationship today! and willow says the word lesbian so many times and is always making gay jokes which is something shows today are too scared to do, its honestly refreshing which is weird for a show in the 90/00s

12. Top 5 episodes

this is so hard because its such a damn good show so i had to rlly be picky about this but here we go

5. 6x22 ‘grave’- i watched buffy for the first time last year at work coz i worked with one other person just packing shit, and THIS was the episode that made us cry infront of eachother. the scene with willow and xander at the end is one of my all time favourite scenes and like legit we were watching and we starting going like ha.. this is so sad Q_Q and we looked at eachother and we were both crying akdjdjsjdhs its SO GOOD, like this is a friendship ive been so invested in and [seeing xander be able to pull her back from that dark place was so heart wrenching and amazing god its so good]

4. 3x12 ‘helpless’ - im finishing up s2 in my rewatch rn so i havent rewatched this one to double check but i remember loving it man. buffys father daughter relationship with giles is my favourite of the whole show they make my heart ache, so i love that this is an episode that really shows you how dedicated giles is to her, [its the breaking point where he finally disregards the fact that hes a watcher and acts as her father once and for all, its a turning point for their relationship where he is finally embracing the fact that shes like a daughter to him and i just love to see it Q_Q get you a dad who will leave his lifes calling for you]

3. 4x22 ‘restless’ - season 4 is interesting coz it has really good episodes and them some gd awful ones 😂😂 but this one just blew me away, i love a good character study episode and this is THE SHIT! its so weird and creepy but in the most perfect way, its not on the nose its so subtle, it feels like an uncanny valley version of buffy almost, i like that they finished the season first and then took this episode to do something out of the box and different i feel like it lets them fully explore this idea without the pressure of needing plot included. [also the cheese man is iconic. dont however like xander being all nasty with willow and tara but whats new there man]

2. 1x12 ‘The Prophecy Girl’ - for my first watch of buffy i wasnt that into the first season, like i enjoyed it but i didnt think it was anything super special? but this episode changed EVERYTHING for me. up until now buffy had been fun, witty, charming, but not anything new atleast for me, maybe in the 90s it was but right now its your average teen supernatural show. but this episode!!!! the emotion! buffy facing her death, her speech about how shes just 16 and shes scared and she doesnt want to die, that is what i wanna see!! its heartbreaking and it made me cry, and then it gives us the wonderful moment of giles trying to take her place and buffy realising that she has to be the one to do it, man its so good! basically anything with buffy and giles being a duo is gonna make it an automatic yes from me and this is indeed the case for this episode, i just love that the show remembers that shes a child! shes not brave all the time, shes not strong all the time, shes just doing her best and sometimes its overwhelming, 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 i bow to this episode

1. 2x17 ‘passion’ - i know i just sang praises about prophecy girl but THIS EPISODE IS THE SHIT, the best episode full stop. i wont accept any argument. angel is probably my favourite big bad, its so funny to see plain bread, mopey brooding angel become this charismatic, funny, poetic, blood thirsty angelus, hes everything i want in a villain and in this episode he delivers! rip jenny tho love her. i think the tension built around angel is so good, because of his drawings and notes left around, every scene youre worrying like is he here now? are they safe or what? its so tense! and also it is me and im a slag for buffy x giles father daughter moments and this episode fucking delivers! giles discovering jennys dead body is probably one of the best scenes on the show, the dramatic irony is heAVY, we know jenny is dead, we know that these flowers arent from her, but giles is so so happy, and i want to see him happy but you just know somehing horrific is about to happen and damn does it. its a masterpiece! i love jenny and giles so much it is so sad, but also the fact that it gave us that scene makes me almmmoost ok with it? i also love the moment where giles breaks down in buffys arms, hes been there for her and now shes returning the favour and hes accepting it i just 😭😭😭 also on a different note, angels narration of this episode is amazing! it gives us great insight to who he is as “evil angel” and like even though hes awful i was also kind of rooting for him coz hes just such a great villain

sorry this is so long lmao, last question!

17. Which characer do you wish had less of a focus on them in the show?

i dont wanna get yelled at butttttt i dont like the amount of focus on dawn. i think it makes sense for the her first season considering the story arc but that season really does double down its focus onto dawn and buffy and it barely leaves room for anyone else to have a storyline, it keeps the episodes super depressing too its like a constant level of just sadness the whole time because we’re so stuck in THEIR arc, theres no room to balance it out and have a breather, some people might like that its more serious but i really really didnt like, i love episodes like prophecy girl where it is campy and brings the more emotional notes in when the time comes, but dawns whole arc is just constantly depressing the whole time i just hate it, and also just shes not a character i felt i could connect to because of how suddenly shes introduced, so its weird to have her SO focused on in the first half of that season coz we dont know her yet so i feel like the emotional moments dont land the way that they should? basically they shouldve eased us into dawn or introduced her differently and maybe i would like her enough to want the focus on her but i really just dont

adksjakjshd apologies for the essay this is, thanks for the ask!

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #why did i write a paragraph for everything im so sorry #i wish i knew how to add a read more link but i dont on mobile #my post #dawn fans please dont murder me #i dont hate her i just dont like her yanno #i am scared people are gonna hate me for not liking her but we all have our tastes

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lilacandladybugs · 3 years

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Hi, I'm grateful for your religion posts, I've always had a really strong relationship with God but in recent years I've just seen so many people hurt by Christianity and slowly become one of them myself (I've been closeted bi for more than two years, it's rough...). I feel out of place with people who've abandoned Christianity and out of place with people who are still fully committed, and I want to still love God but it's hard when religion burns me to think about most days. I'm sorry if this is putting things on you that you don't want to have to think about, but I just wanted you to know that it means a lot to me to see someone staying strong (and probably doing better at it than me)

Blessings 💙

Hello friend I’m glad I can be helpful! Yes I feel the same way, and I think until I’m fully healed I won’t have the energy or the patience to go back to a Bible study and walk them through how to be friends with people who are grieving, or traumatized, or lgbt, or otherwise different from them. So I’ve felt like I have all these thoughts I’ve developed over the years about who God is and what my identity is in him without having a place to talk about it but y’all’s asks give me a place to do that and not have to prove myself to people who have never grieved or ever been rejected by the church.

I’ve found a lot of solace in Isaiah 55 and in Job and Psalms, this post is getting long so I’ll make another with pictures, but just know I totally understand. There are books in the Bible for people like us though, the Bible was written for broken people, it’s a love letter to us man. And the Bible isn’t the only place where we can listen to God, he’s also all around us in nature, in our loved ones, in poetry, in music. I loved twenty one pilots and I have a few analyses I wrote at 17 about their music and how it was a cry asking God for help. “I don’t know where you are, you’ll have to come and find me, find me,” and Tyler screams it and I would just like scream it with him.

I guess though that’s all you need sometimes. In that drought that’s all you need is that desire to ask God to show himself to you, that “want to want to” do what he says, that wishing you wanted to know him that’s all we need really. And then God takes over, and he promised where his word goes it will not return to him empty.

I’m sure you know this anon but to anyone else reading this the main story of the Bible is that God created us to be in a perfect free will relationship with him, but we used our free will to reject him instead. Since God is the source of life, when we cut ourselves off from him, it kills us slowly like a flower cut off a bush. Anything that goes against God’s will is called sin in the Bible, and so sin is basically the thing that cuts us off of the flower bush, because the natural consequence for turning away from God is death. But God was unwilling to let that be the end of the story and he chose to die in our place so that if we choose we can reenter that perfect relationship with God. And he rose again from the grave, conquering death, that separation that was originally created by our rejection of him.

In 2018 when I was first really realizing that there are people who call themselves christians and are also abusive I really had trouble delineating like who God is and who the Church is, because they aren’t the same you know? Church is made up of human beings, God is perfectly loving and perfectly just.

And one of my friends was trans and financially independent and recovering from religious abuse, and I remember him coming to my family’s house and my family’s church and realizing that God wasn’t this cruel distant judgmental being, that he loves us.

Anyway when my friend realized this he started going to church on his own, and one day as he was listening to the song “Come to the Alter” he said God spoke to him and said, “Come to me and I will be your father and you will be my son.” Which was a really big deal to him because God was willing to fill that role that his abusive ‘Christian’ parents were unwilling to fill, to use his correct pronouns, to meet him where he was, to love him unconditionally, to be his father.

When I heard that I legit cried for like three days and I wrote this:

— Feb 26, 2018

I have been overwhelmed yesterday and today with the goodness and love of God I had so underestimated. I feel the need to protect my friends and self from people who might hurt them, who don’t believe depression exists or handle them cruelly, but I didn’t realize I associated these people and my own brokenness with God himself. But God is not cruel. He does not hurt people on accident he doesn’t condemn, he meets us where we are tenderly like the gentle rays of golden sunshine peeking through the window in the morning or water of a lake lapping gentle on a stone beach.

His love is so pure, so respectful, and yet so overwhelming. Lord how cautious you have chosen to be with me, as one taming a wild deer, and Lord how I didn’t know how starved I am for your love! Oh Lord how you love my people so deeply and purely to stare into its depths though the water is clear I cannot see the end of it!

Father how can I fathom you? I knew who you were with my mind when I asked for our lives but how you have acquainted my heart with you! And you hold on and say “Here I am love, you are safe.” How safe I am with you! You are my nest in the winter where I go when frightened. Your triumph is so great I can’t speak or understand and so I just laugh and cry in joy and relief that you are here. Why do I remain so heavy laden? I should come to you or in you is miraculous peace.

Never have I felt such joy as yesterday, even when (a friend) was released from the hospital my tears were as if I were grieving I could feel all of heaven rejoicing and singing.

Oh God how lovely you are! Stunning and perfect and kind.

Light reflected through ie and silvery breath on cold winters night just a whisper and a gorgeous sight.

Comparing the safety you bring to the love of humans is like comparing moisture to the ocean, a pebble to the rocky mountains, one note to a symphony.

I feel like I have seen for the first time, been loved for the first time, like Rapunzel escaping from her tower I look down and even what is as everyday as grass to you is a wonder to me.

Lord I don’t know what abusive things I’ve taken as normal, please introduce me to life as your child.

Thank you so much Dad

Thank you <3

-------

I love you anon, keep me posted and I’ll keep giving you a ton of unsolicited advice hahahaha. The only other thought I had was that you don’t have to push yourself to worship God in any particular way! God isn’t just in worship music or just in the Bible. (although the Bible is the ultimate source of truth) sometimes the Bible can hurt to read when you’re traumatized and that is okay, God will meet you where you are. The word of God is not bound!! He’s not limited by your trauma, he’s not weakened by it, he can still do what he needs to do, just listen.

sister i wish you the best of luck, may God be with you wherever you go

#religion #religion tw #christianity #christianity tw #eslyea #i love you anon #good luck #god loves you #god loves your friends

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cthomashoodstory · 3 years

Text

Best Years but Not in the Same Way (9)

Calum Hood x Reader (Saara Palvin)

Previous Part

I think i will give some pictures as visual for you to see the situation in this story.

Masterlist

Today, October 8 2017, is your birthday. You’re reach the age of 22 and it feels like the best year for you.

You didn’t expect anything from anyone. You just hope that this year will be better than before. You could left behind the bad memories you have and you could move on happily.

And now you walked in to Conway studio, where 5 Seconds of Summer recording their new album.

“Hi guys.” You greeted him while the four of them were sitting on couch busy with their phones. They literally ignored your presence here. Okay, maybe they were too lazy to talk to you, that’s fine.

So you pulled out your laptop, headset and a phone charger from your bag and you walked to the socket and plugged the phone charger and charging your phone. You sat on the carpet while the laptop is in your lap you plugged the headset to your laptop and you opened youtube to watch some random video.

You once in a while took a peek at your phone hoping there’s an important notification that will caught your eyes. But it went nothing. Just bunch of Twitter and Instagram notifications that you didn’t want to open.

Now you were watching a tutorial how to play guitar because since February, when Calum taught you, you still couldn’t do it until today. You bought an acoustic guitar and you still suck at it. Then your phone is ringing and you saw your mom calling.

“Hey sweetheart, how you doing?”

“I’m doing good, mom.” Your tongue is still numb for saying mom to her. But you didn’t want to make any scene since it’s your birthday today.

“I miss you darling and happy birthday to you.” “I may not the the best mom you have, I abandoned you for so many years and now i came back to your life and now you hated me. I don’t blame you for that because it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.” You could hear her sobbing.

“I forgave you, mom. Please don’t cry.” You looked up and four of them are missing. You were just alone here in this room. “Mom, i think i will go to my dad... i mean dad’s grave, are you joining me? Or you can’t?” You could feel the disappointment whenever you asked her to company you to your dad’s grave.

“I’m so sorry darling, I couldn’t make it, I’m in London with Evan for his work. Kids are in their grandparents house. I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up the call and now you’re pissed. Not a minute ago you forgave her and now you’re angry with her again.

You got up and put your gadgets again to your bag and decided to go out from this place. “Disappointed at its finest.” You said it while you opened the door and you could see the four men whose missing blocking your way.

“Happy birthday.” They shouted so loud and confetti is popped out. Calum was the one who hold the cake and Luke was the one holding the flower bucket. “Happy bday, love.” He whispered and you could hear it loudly in your ears. You smiles to him so brightly.

“Miss Hood, make a wish now before the candle runs out.” Ashton demanded you to blow the candle. And now you closed your eyes and made a wish. After that you blown the candle and everyone cheered.

The cake is put on the table and so the flowers. And then Calum asked me to sit with him on the couch, leaving the other boys whose eating the cake under the table.

“Happy birthday to you, dear Saara Palvin.” He looked so shy and nervous. And then he pulled something out from his pocket and turns out it’s a tiny box. “For you.”

You took it and you slowly opened it. It’s a ring. But not just a regular ring, it’s an open claw ring.

“Oh my God, this is so cute.” You just saw a something you wanted for a very long time but you always forgot to buy it and now you have it as a gift from Calum.

“Here let me put it to your finger.” Calum took the ring out from the box and put it to my pinky finger. It suit perfectly in your fingers.

You hugged him. “How did you know i really want this ring so bad?”

He giggled. “You’ve alway wanted it since 2014 and i took my chance to give it to you three years later. And thank God you still don’t have this ring. Actually when I’m inside your bedroom, i took a peek to your jewelry box and i couldn’t find that kind of ring so...,” he was so happy when he told that story to you.

“Manifesting,” Ashton shouting and it made you startled.

“I’m so sorry we ate your cake, but we left you two some slices.” Luke said without any sorry in his face. You didn’t care about cake, you just care about Calum.

To be continued

All the pictures courtesy from google, please let me know if one of your pic is here and u want to take it down

Next Part

#calum hood #calum thomas hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood x reader #calum fanfic #calum imagine #calum fic #calum fanfiction #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos #5sos imagine #ashton irwin #michael clifford #luke hemmings

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mintdrop · 4 years

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Home Sweet Home // 2073 words

"Are you sure this is the right place?" If you looked up disgruntled in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of Estinien at this very moment, very aggressively wrestling with a tree branch that managed to hit him square in the nose. One arm kept itself hooked around the strap that held the bags with their belongings, while the other shielded his eyes; he wasn't losing a pupil today. Leading him, in absolutely no fear of angry greenery, was his Lalafellin companion.

"I'm pretty sure it's around here... Unless he moved out of the Shroud after..?" A twinge of guilt strummed at Mint's heartstrings like a harp at the thought, and she picked up her pace as they made their way further into the Central Shroud. It took only a few moments more before the roof of a small house peeked between the curling branches, and her face lit up near instantly. "Estinien! It's over there!" She pointed as she beamed at her partner, who sighed and removed his makeshift goggles to pick her up and seat her on his right shoulder.

"I'm not going get down on the ground to see where you're pointing. Where?" Estinien's eyes followed the arm that was now at his eye level, eyebrows raising as he now saw the thatched roof. Keeping one hand firm across Mint's lap to keep her steady, he readjusted the back on his back before beginning the short hike towards the house, dead leaves and twigs crunching underfoot. He stopped just short of the house when he noticed something -- a person? -- rummaging around on what could only be the front porch; Estinien couldn't really tell from all the foliage covering it. He opened his mouth to call out, but was shocked silent when the Lalafell on his arm leapt from his shoulder towards the thing. Was she crazy?! "Totomi--!"

"Daaaaaaaad!" Propelling herself through the air by sheer force, Mint landed right between the shoulder blades of the unsuspecting person; a Miqo'te, judging from the ears that sat atop a head of red hair. The man stumbled as the bombshell of a Lalafell hit him, his arms scrambling -- and failing -- to grab whatever had assaulted his spine while he regained his balance. Mint dangled from his neck, her smile as bright as the sun as her face just barely peeked over her father's shoulder. Bewildered eyes from the man quickly turned into a gaze of joy as everything finally registered, and he swooped up the Lalafell into a big hug.

"Issat my lil' vanilla bean? I was startin' t' think I'd have t' leave before y' got here!" His accent heavily Lominsan as he spoke, he gave Mint a big squeeze before finally noticing the Elezen rummaging through the brush towards them. "And y' brought a long vanilla bean too! Are y' just collecting white-haired friends at this point?" The Miqo'te looked Estinien over as he spoke, who appeared only slightly bewildered that he was being compared to a bean again. At least now he understood where Mint picked the term up from.

"Estinien Wyrmblood. I'm your daughter's... I'm one of her companions." He glanced down at Mint, unsure that he should admit they were lovers. He didn't want to let something out of the bag if she hadn't already. His caution was met with a stifled laugh, however, and she waved her hand at him.

"This is the man I told you about in my letters." Mint spoke matter-of-factly as she let herself down from her father's embrace, realizing it was probably a mistake as she now had to crane her neck to look at either of them. "Estinien, this is my father, A'rhen." The two men shook hands, the Elezen becoming alarmed at the strength of the Miqo'te's grip. His face was smiling, but he was clearly trying to send a message, wasn't he?

"Pleased t' meet ya, Estinien. We'll have t' save the embarrassin' stories of Tomi for after I get back." A'rhen broke the handshake first, turning back to the porch of his small home to pick up what seemed to be an expensive-looking fishing rod and a large tackle box. When he turned to face the two again, his eyes were practically sparkling. "Th' next ship for ocean fishin' leaves at th' crack of dawn, and I'll be a wrinkle on a mole rat if I miss it!" He knelt down to give Mint one last hug, and nodded to Estinien as he rose before grinning and taking off down the path the two had come from.

"Your father is quite an... interesting character." Estinien watched him for a few moments before turning back to the Lalafell, bending over to pick up the bags he'd relinquished to the forest floor earlier.

"He sure is. I can't imagine what my childhood would've been like if he wasn't like that, though." Mint grinned as she spoke before turning to the house, hiding her face from view as she climbed the stairs. "I'm just glad he's okay."

Though she spoke at a lower volume this time around, and more or less trailed off at the end, Estinien tilted his head. He swore he heard something, but he couldn't place the words at all. "Totomi? Did you say something?" Mint shook her head, looking over her shoulder with her trademark smile.

"Nope! We should get inside, we probably have a lot to do in there if this porch is any indicator." Her head drooped, already knowing what awaited the two of them from the dead leaves and branches that crunched under her feet with every step. Inside the small cottage was no better; dust littered most surfaces and random clothes lay scattered about the floor and the couches of the main room. Dirty bowls and cutlery filled the sink of the small kitchen area to their left, and curtains on every window seemed to be sinking in on each other. "Oh, dad..."

The door clicked behind her as Estinien entered the house, unloading the bags near the small table in the center of the kitchen. He wanted to make a comment, but judging from Mint's tone of voice, he concluded that it probably wasn't the best idea. "You weren't lying about a lot to do. I'm sure the size of the cottage is contributing to how much clutter there seems to be." Of all the that he saw, the only things that seemed to be kept in order were the small family portraits that hung along the walls; in fact, they looked as though they were dusted and polished each day. He snapped out of his daze when he noticed Mint lifting the heavier of the two bags they'd brought. "I'll get it. Where do y--"

Mint cut him off with a waggle of her hand, grinning. "It's fine, I can do it. I was the one who packed this bag, y'know?" Lifting with both arms, she hefted the bag onto one of the chairs around the table, attempting to push its contents onto the table itself. When Estinien noticed that she could barely push it past the edge, he made his way over and began taking the things she pulled out. Several types of cleaners, multiple handrags... a mop? How did she even manage to fit it in the bag? Believing it to be a portal to some astral pocket as she continued to hand him things, the table was soon filled with enough cleaning supplies to put a mansion's entire maid staff to shame. "Do you mind starting the dishes while I gather up all the loose... everything that's lying around?" She pointed to the bottle of heavy duty soap and the rags that seemed to have a rough side for tough stains, and he nodded.

Morning soon turned to evening as the two tackled every corner of the house at Mint's direction, breaking only for lunch. Every room had been dusted and mopped, clothes and linens gathered up for tomorrow's laundry excursion. Fresh curtains lined the windows, dug out from a small closet that Estinien couldn't even see until Mint had opened it; it was perfectly sized for a Lalafell. With her hair tied up into a pony tail to reduce the amount of heat against her neck, Mint wiped at her forehead. "Alright, there's only one more thing. Follow me."

Digging back into the magical bag of never ending space, Estinien expected an entire vacuum to emerge. Instead, she pulled out a small bouquet of white lilies. Gently cradling them, she made her way towards the thin hallway that separated the two bedrooms of the house, which looked like it ended in a dead end to Estinien - perhaps due to the lack of lighting. In reality, the "wall" was a door, it's windows covered by a dark curtain. Mint pulled it open, Estinien following to see a small grave nestled directly in front of them, the name "Liliana" engraved on it. It was covered with all types of flowers, some seemingly left there for months on end with how dark their petals were. He stood motionless at the top of the stairs that led down to the grave, watching only in silence as the Lalafell moved the wilted and dead flowers off to one side, eventually to be discarded later.

She knelt in front of the small tombstone, placing her flowers in the center of it. "When I was in Doma, I got a message from Krile that my father was frantically looking for me. He gave no reason, instead begging her to tell me to come home." She paused for a moment, letting down her hair so that it once again shielded her face. "I couldn't find a way back until it was too late. Garlean soldiers and Ala Mhigan resistance were consistently battling in the Shroud. A few times, they were only yalms from their windows."

Estinien stepped over to her as she spoke, kneeling down beside her. "Conjurers in Gridania said it was stress. Her heart had always been frail since I was a child, and it became too much for her. I think dad thought I would be able to fix it if I had been able to make it home." Though she was smiling, large tears began to well up. "I wish I had.. but I think it's better I didn't. My magicks aren't miracles, y'know? He was so distraught when I made it back, and vented his anger at me. But if I had been here, and couldn't save her.. it would have been worse."

Mint paused, wiping at her eyes. "He apologized after the funeral. I knew he hadn't meant it, so I never held it against him. I wish I could have stayed with him longer. But the scions kept calling for me, so I left. I loved my mother dearly... but not nearly as much as he did. The way he left the house was no surprise to me." She took in a deep breath, letting it out with a heavy sigh; the tears she had hoped to keep confined to herself ended up spilling over. "I think he took this trip to fix his broken heart. He loved taking her fishing; he brought her along a trip as their first date."

The setting sun began to shine its final orange lights through the trees before the moon took over for the night; Mint sniffed before standing up, turning to Estinien with a sad smile on her face. "I guess I should do the same, right? I think she'd be upset if she knew I was still grieving like I did the day I found out." She turned back to the stone, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's alright, mom. I'll take care of dad for you. We both know he can't figure out his arm from his tail."

Estinien stood up beside her, lifting Mint into his arms. "And I'll take care of Totomi. She may not need it, with how well you raised her, but I vow to be there if she needs me." The words he spoke caused Mint to choke on her own, and she simply let herself cry as Estinien carried her inside.

As the door closed behind them, the sun's final rays framed the tombstone, and had anyone been there to see, they could swear they saw the visage of a smiling Lalafell, with white hair blowing in a non-existent breeze.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #;; spearmint #;; peppermint #breaks my own heart while writing the end of this ficlet #i think the image i was using was causing the post to break so i'm using an old one and formatting it different #if it doesn't break i'll put back the image i was using originally #;; seii's scribblings

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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Broken hearts and high-school drama

Summary: Dean was your first love but he broke your heart when you were sixteen. Meeting him at the same high-school years later will cause some unexpected problems…

Pairing: Young!Dean x Reader (flashbacks), Dean x Reader, Young!Dean x Amanda, Sam Winchester, Young!Sam, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, cheating, monster of the week, injuries, ghosts, possession, violence, arguments, fun

Now

Walking through the hallway of your old high school still feels odd. You remember spending time sitting on the floor, in front of your locker, watching the kids pass by, wishing you were lighthearted and careless like one of them. Wishing you did not know anything about the darkness hiding out there.

Barely recognizing what of one of your co-workers is babbling you find yourself stopping in front of his locker…Your eyes light up for a moment at the memory…

—-

Then

“What brings you into this shitty town?” You ask Dean leaning against his locker. His piercing green eyes shine every time he looks down at you. The worn-out leather jacket suits him so well, he’s not like the other boys at your school, Dean is different…

“My dad’s job. He drags Sammy and me around.” Dean mumbles and you nod. At least Dean has someone to drag him around…

“That sucks.” You lie glancing at the smaller boy walking toward Dean. “Sammy. You okay?” Dean asks and the young boy rolls his eyes.

“Sure. I can handle a few hours without my bodyguard.” The boy retorts and you chuckle.

“Sammy, this is Y/N, a friend of mine,” Dean says and you feel the heat creeping into your cheeks. “Hi, Sam, nice to meet you.” You say shaking the boy’s hand.

“Hi, Y/N. You better not get involved with this heartbreaker.” Sam says and Dean moves one arm around his brother, ruffling his hair.

“Do not listen to the little brat. He’s just kidding…” Dean says, and you wonder if Sam was trying to make a joke…

—-

Now

“Earth to, Y/N. Did you hear me?” Your colleague asks and you shake your head. “Sorry, I was thinking about something. What did you say?” You ask.

“I asked if you already had the pleasure to see our new coach in his tight red shorts.” Jamie swoons and you want to roll your eyes. Every new guy is a love interest to Jamie.

“Nope. Didn’t have time for staring at our coach’s ass so far.” You tease busy checking you EMF for any sign of activity.

“Odd phone,” Jamie says glancing at your smartphone which you rebuilt into an EMF meter.

“Ah, it’s a prototype. I told you my cousin is working for a certain company. He asked me to check the functions out.” You lie shamelessly.

“Cool. Next time tell him I will check the functions out.” Jamie chuckles as you walk toward the storage room to check it.

Your eyes drift toward the door handle and another memory pops up…

Then

His lips are softer than expected, well you didn’t expect anything happening as he dragged you into the storage room. Now his hands are squeezing your butt as his lips claim yours. You feel dizzy, lightheaded…hot and bothered.

Dean slips his tongue into your mouth, sweeping over your tongue, tasting you. Your hands fist his hair, tugging harshly as his hands wander to your breasts, kneading, pinching your nipples.

“Dean…” You moan against his lips. “I never…” You confess and he smiles against your lips.

“I know, it’s okay. We’ve got time.” Dean whispers crushing his lips onto yours…

—-

Now

“I’m going to get some chalk; do you need anything?” You ask and Jamie shakes her head. “No, I’ve got enough chalk, see you later at lunch.”

Watching your colleague walk away you shake your head. “Only if I do not find the ghost till lunch.” You whisper grabbing the door handle to twist it.

Your hand is shaking, and you need to take a deep breath as you open the door and your eyes land on the piece of paper lying on the floor. Kids still come here to kiss each other breathless…

—-

Then

You were looking for Dean everywhere. He wanted to meet you at the storage room and now he’s nowhere to be found.

Maybe he’s already in the room…waiting? You ask yourself as you open the door only to find Dean, kissing someone else. He pulls away from the girl he was kissing. His eyes land on you and he turns pale.

“We were studying. Come on, Sweetheart. She means nothing to me. Don’t be mad.” Dean tries and you scoff.

“I’m no mad, rather disappointed, Dean. I thought maybe… underneath your whole “I could give a crap,” bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on. I mean, like the way you are with your brother. But I was wrong.” You exhale. “I thought maybe you are ‘the one’. Sammy was right, you’re just another heartbreaker.” You yell and everyone just stares at Dean as tears stream down your face.

“Y/N…wait. I can explain.” He tries to touch you, but you shove his hand away.

“Save it, Dean. I’ve seen enough. I was just another ass to grope to you, nothing else. Good thing I saw you today cause I wanted to have sex with you after our date. I’m such a fool…” Sniffing you turn on your heels, running away as fast possible.

—-

Now

The EMF meter shows no activity again. Cursing you slam the door shut only to bump into a firm chest. Your eyes land on his red shorts and you realize you bumped into the coach Jamie was telling you about.

“Sorry, Sweetheart.” The guy rumbles and you gulp. Your eyes meet emerald ones and you try to look away but then you see the scar at his chin and you are sure it’s him.

“My fault…if you excuse me now.” You say and his eyes light up. Before he can say anything else you shove him away to rush toward your classroom.

Why is Dean Winchester at your high school?

—-

“I’m telling you, Sammy, it was her.” Dean insists and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Dude! I’m telling you I checked all the teachers and everyone else. There is no one with the name Y/N Y/L/N working here.” Sam mutters.

“It was her. Her Y/E/C, the lips, the little mole at her neck…hell she even smelled like her. I swear it was Y/N.” Dean mutters pacing around the gym in his red shorts.

“Dean. Only as you broke her heart back then doesn’t mean she is here, at the same time you come back to her high school. This is ridiculous, even for Winchester standards.” Sam exhales beyond annoyed. “Let’s concentrate on the case and forget about your little Dean for a while.”

Glaring at his brother Dean shakes his head. “This has nothing to do with sex, Sam. She was my first true love. I messed up, okay. I wanted to apologize back then but dad dragged us away and I couldn’t tell her how I feel…” Dean sighs.

“Dean, that was how many years ago?” Sam asks and Dean nods. “I know…Sam…I know.”

—-

“That’s sad, Mr. Gregor. Can you tell me where Dirk is buried? I’d like to put some flowers on his grave.” You lie. After you found out about Dirk’s death you are sure he is the one using the pupil’s body to punish other kids.

“Oh, he wasn’t. I had him cremated.” Mr. Gregor sniffs and you silently curse.

“All of him?” You ask and he stares at you not knowing why you are asking something like this. “I, for example, kept my mothers’ braid.” You lie and Mr. Gregor nods.

“Well, I kept a lock of his hair. Always have it with me on the bus, in my bible.” He whispers and you pat his hand gently.

“I need to go now but I’m truly sorry about your loss. I wasn’t at his school for long, but Dirk was a nice boy.” You lie. Truth is he was an asshole, but you can’t break his father’s heart.

“Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. Gregor chokes out and you give him a cracked smile.

—-

Sitting on the bus you look around. You need to find a way to get this bible and the lock of Dirk’s hair to burn it before he can possess another innocent kid.

Your eyes drift toward the driver’s seat as the bus is driving fast down the road.

“UH, Eddie I think we are way too fast. Maybe you should use the pedal?” You ask seeing the cold expression on his face. You want to get your salt out but then the bus stops and Eddie’s hand wraps around your throat.

Blinking you feel coldness creeping into your bones and then…nothing…

—-

Your body walks on its own as you look up at Dean and a taller man with shaggy hair. Dean is looking at you with wide eyes as you grab the hem of his shirt to smash him into the bus.

“Liar! Cheater! Worthless scum!” Dirk inside of your body screams. He’s using your memories to control your body. No matter how hard you fight him he keeps on smashing Dean into the bus.

Dirk is distracted by wrapping your hands around Dean’s throat. This way he can’t see Sam sneak up behind him to wrap a rope around his middle.

Screaming you feel the rope burning your skin. “What!” Dirk yells.

“Soaked in salt-water.” Sam pants struggling to keep your body at bay. Fighting against Dirk you point toward the driver’s seat. “Bible…” You gasp before Dirk takes over control, ramming your elbow into Sam’s ribs. Dean is rushing toward the driver’s seat, grabbing the bible he finds the lock.

“Dean…hurry.” Sam pants aiming his shotgun at Dirk, well at your body.

“Don’t or he will use someone else,” Dean yells, salting the hair to burn it.

Dirk is leaving your body, making you fall to the ground. He screams before his ghost vanishes.

“Shit…” You pant sitting on the ground, exhausted, body aching.

“You okay?” Dean asks trying to help you up but you slap his hand away. “I don’t need your help, Winchester.” You spat.

Sam is less patiently. Picking you up he carries you toward his brother’s car. “Let me help you, Y/N. Ghosts drain the energy out of your body while using you. We don’t want you to collapse.” Sam mumbles and you nod before you drift into unconsciousness.

—-

“I told you it’s her, Sam,” Dean mutters watching you sleeping on his bed.

“Dean, calm down. She’s fine. No one else got hurt thanks to her. She managed to show us the Bible. Never saw someone able to break out of a ghosts grip.” Sam says glancing at you.

“She’s something else and I messed up…”

—-

Body sore, head pounding you try to sit up on the foreign bed. Two strong hands steady your body as your brain tries to process what happened yesterday.

“How do you feel?” Dean asks and you groan.

“Now even worse.” You mutter and Dean chuckles.

“Listen…I’m sorry. I was a stupid boy back then. I was sixteen and all these hormones. She meant nothing to me but you were someone special. I knew I can’t stay so I thought to break your heart would make it easier for you.”

“Breaking my heart would make it easier? Are you cruel or simply stupid? You could’ve told me your dad is dragging you into another town, Dean. I would’ve understood for sure.” You grunt showing his offered hand away.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Boys are not smart at the age of sixteen. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. The kiss was the best I ever had.”

“Dean…”

“So…you’re a teacher?” Dean asks and this time you chuckle. “Seriously? I was able to keep the ghost inside of me at bay. I pointed toward the Bible to help you find the object binding Dirk’s ghost and yet you believe I’m a teacher?” Rubbing your forehead you try to make the headache go away.

“Well…I’m hot for teacher…” Dean rasps and you glare at the tall hunter. Still cocky as hell he smirks at you. “…or rather hot for you…” He adds.

“Dean Winchester, do you believe I’m falling back into your arms after the stunt you pulled all these years ago?” Your eyes narrow now and Dean gulps hard.

“I know…broken hearts…high school drama, but we are adults now. We can talk things out, have a date…hot sex. You could tag along.”

“Hot sex? You think I would have sex with you anytime soon?” You spat jumping up a bit too fast to poke your finger into Dean’s chest.

There’s a fire in your eyes and Dean can’t help it but look at you in awe.

“This look won’t help you!”

“Hmm…let me make it up to you. How about you tag along and I’ll apologize for the rest of my life.” Dean suggests.

“As a hunter, your life may be pretty short…” you talk back.

“That’s not a ‘no’…” Dean mutters glancing at your lips.

“No, it’s a hell no!” You state slapping his cheek.

“I like the fire in you. Damn, you will tag along for sure. How about helping us with another case?”

“Case?”

“Yeah. Sammy found is a job, Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife’s brains out with a meat tenderizer.” Dean explains.

“Sounds like a good way to get rid of someone.” You threaten and Dean licks his lower lip. “You can beat me, shoot me or yell at me as long as you agree to come with me…” Dean says raising his eyebrows as your knee collides with his balls.

Slowly walking toward the showers, you grab a fresh towel, glancing at Dean. “I’ll take your offer, my Sweetheart.” You chuckle.

“Damn, hell of a woman…” Dean groans falling to his knees.

Forever Tags

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Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @hawaiianohana31, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural

#spn #spn fanfiction #angst #unrequited love #coach winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester spn #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot

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mamichigo · 5 years

Text

Fic: new and old things (1.7k)

Pairing: Tanjirou/Inosuke

Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Ten Years Later

Summary: They are no longer children, they haven't been for a long time. With spring comes a fresh beginning, the start of something new. Tanjirou couldn't stop the wave of nostalgia.

A/N: This was for @yue-luna-brilante’s request: “ "inotan- in nezuko’s wedding (she’s human again) - they act like an old married couple" (which was followed loosely). It’s a bit redundant to post it here now, but oh well.

A strong gust of wind has Tanjirou staggering on his feet, and he had to clutch the circular tray in his hands before the carefully balanced cups of tea tumbled to a tragic death. After a second, he was able to walk again, though his steps were careful on the diagonal line of the hill. The wind still blew with great fury, but Tanjirou was ready for it this time, and treaded on without too much trouble.

He could see the branches of the cherry blossom tree peeking down at him, always watchful; reaching the top of the hill, however, brought him face to face with the dancing pink petals, carried over by the wind. One almost flew straight into his eye, but Tanjirou was lucky enough to successfully step out of its direct trajectory.

It was a beautiful day, he had to admit—though he could do without the wind—, as the sky was perfectly clear, the few passing clouds being small, fluffy ones hurrying along. There were flowers blooming everywhere, and their fragrant scent reached Tanjirou's nose at every turn he made. He thought he could smell lavender in the distance, but he wasn't sure (Tanjirou never got the hang of differentiating between flowers).

It wasn't the scenery that caught his attention, however, but the sleeping body of a man sprawled gracelessly on the grass. His hair was a mess of long locks all around him, and his chest rose and fell with the serenity of someone deep in their dreams.

Tanjirou set the tray down, then lowered himself to crouch next to the man, observing the shift of the faded scars across his chest.

"You're going to catch a cold if you don't cover yourself, Inosuke," Tanjirou chided to his sleeping partner. "Not that you ever listen to me when I say that."

When his voice didn't succeed in alerting Inosuke to his presence, Tanjirou proceeded to poke his cheek once, then again, and just one more time for good measure. Inosuke grumbled and, instead of opening his eyes, rolled to the side—away from Tanjirou's fingers.

"Don't think you'll escape from me that easily. You made a grave mistake, you know," Tanjirou said as he bent down until his lips were close to Inosuke's left ear.

Now within the perfect range, Tanjirou proceeded to blow harshly into the ear, causing Inosuke to jump back and scramble to sit up at the same time, looking like a graceless chicken attempting to escape.

Tanjirou laughed as Inosuke blinked at him in confusion.

"Sleeping outside again, I see," Tanjirou commented innocently.

"What's the problem with that? The house is too hot," Inosuke replied, rubbing at his ear with some aggravation.

Tanjirou shuffled closer to pluck a twig out of Inosuke's hair, and a flower petal fell along with it. There were still blades of grass and leaves in it as well, and Tanjirou raised his eyebrows at it meaningfully.

"You could at least bring a blanket, or put on a shirt. I wouldn't be surprised if you got sick in this wind."

Inosuke clicked his tongue. "I don't need it, I don't get sick anyways."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!"

Tanjirou stared at him for a long moment. "Then next time I'll leave you to puke all over yourself without any assistance, as you're obviously not sick."

Another long pause.

Inosuke silently extended his hand, and Tanjirou didn't hesitate to take off his own haori and hand it to him, smiling all too smugly. Inosuke didn't bother putting his arms through the holes, but at least he had it wrapped around his shoulders.

"There, happy? I'm going back to sleep," Inosuke grumbled and fell back on his side, not even waiting for a reply.

"Ah, wait, wait, I brought us some tea!" Tanjirou nudged the tray a bit closer. "Don't you want some?"

Inosuke took a glance at it over his shoulder and promptly lost interest, closing his eyes. "Nah." He paused, then perked up once more. "Did you bring honey?"

As a matter of fact, he did; Inosuke had taken the habit of filling one third of his tea with honey before drinking any of it, to the concern of Tanjirou and the disgust of literally every single one of their friends.

"I did. So, will you have some?"

Inosuke hummed, appearing to think it over. Then, before Tanjirou could do anything about it, he quickly snatched the honey bottle and the dipper, coating the latter in a generous amount of honey to then shove it directly into his mouth. Tanjirou cringed at the sight.

"Are you trying to get yourself to puke?" Tanjirou asked.

"No, I'm eating, can't you see?" Inosuke waved to dipper in his face to make his point. "You're being naggy today, it's annoying."

"Naggy?! I'm trying to look out for you!"

"Nagging old man."

"I'm the same age as you!"

They stared down at each other, but Inosuke was the one to look away first: not because he was backing down, but because he most likely got bored. He even had the audacity to drop his head on his arms and shuffle around like he was getting ready to fall back asleep.

Tanjirou opened his mouth to complain, but let it go with a sigh, instead leaning his back on Inosuke's body and looking up at the sky. Since Inosuke didn't stir, he assumed he actually went through with his desire to take a nap.

Tanjirou retrieved his own teacup and cradled it into his hands, blowing the steam away and taking a hearty sip. Alone with his thoughts, he found himself sighing again before taking another sip.

"Are you gonna tell me what's bugging you or what?" Inosuke suddenly asked, voice low and laced with exasperation.

"Oh, uhm. Is it that obvious?"

"No shit it is."

Tanjirou bent his leg up at the knee to rest his elbow on top and lean his cheek into it, head tilted to the side so he could see just the edge of Inosuke's profile.

"You do know me really well, Inosuke. How couldn't you, it's been a long time since we've met each other, after all."

Inosuke hummed a low "uh huh", which might seem rude to anyone else, but Tanjirou knew well it was an invitation to keep going.

"We were pretty young, weren't we? You, me, and Nezuko and Zenitsu, not to mention everyone else like Genya and Kanao." Tanjirou scratched at his cheek at the same time Inosuke let out a jaw cracking yawn.

"When we were even younger, and Nezuko was just a tiny child, she would get scared by the shadows of the trees outside, or the noise of them shaking in the wind. With dad sick, she didn't want to bother him, or mom for that measure." Tanjirou rotated his teacup, watching the ripples appearing on the surface of the liquid. "So she'd come to me instead, and I'd hold her hand and tell her a story, or sing her a lullaby. Her hand was so was small, I could hold all of it in my palm."

Tanjirou fell back, spine curved around Inosuke's body, his teacup raised high above his head. A stray flower petal made its way into it.

"Sometimes I realize I still think her hand is that small."

Inosuke raised himself up to his elbow, twisting to the side in what looked like a painful position to get at look Tanjirou. His eyebrows were raised, almost comically so.

"You really are the sentimental type," Inosuke pointed out. "Are you freaking out about the wedding again?"

"I'm not freaking out!" Tanjirou protested, sitting up to level a glare at Inosuke. "Just because I'm thinking about it doesn't mean I'm freaking out. It's just that Nezuko is so happy and it's all she talks about, so it gets me thinking about… Stuff."

Inosuke snorted. "You're trying not to cry about it, aren't you?"

Tanjirou vehemently slammed his teacup back on the tray. "I'm not! I'm not crying about it!" He huffed and crossed his arms. "Listen, just because Nezuko will look the most beautiful she's ever looked in her wedding attire, and her smile will be all big and bright, and she's getting the happiness she deserves after suffering through being a demon, and… And…"

Tanjirou paused. His voice was wobbling. "Inosuke?"

"What?"

"I'm crying about it."

Inosuke shot up, murmuring curses under his breath, frantically reaching for whatever he could find of Tanjirou first (which turned out to be his right pants leg) to tug him closer. Inosuke rubbed his palms against Tanjirou's cheek, getting rid of each tear that fell from his eyes.

"She's all grown up now…"

"Yup."

"And she found someone to love her like she deserves."

"Uh huh."

"She really is gonna be the prettiest, you know?"

"Sure."

They continued to go back and forth like this for a few minutes until Tanjirou had gotten the tears out of system. He was grateful for Inosuke's attempt to help, though his cheeks were starting to get red from all the rubbing.

Tanjirou cheese on his bottom lip. "Mom would be so proud of her. I… I wish she was here to see it," he confessed, something he rarely let himself say out loud in fear that the sadness might consume him whole.

When he felt like he would cry fresh tears, Inosuke roughly pulled on both his cheeks, stretching it far enough that Tanjirou couldn't even speak through it.

"She's already proud, dumbass. Just like my mom," Tanjirou gasped at that, but Inosuke didn't relent. "They're watching over us, everyone is. You told me that, didn't you? Don't be a wimp about it now."

Tanjirou nodded as much as he could when Inosuke was still pulling on his cheeks; he had, in fact, said that to Inosuke many years ago, murmured against the curve of his shoulder. That night, Tanjirou had given one of his earrings to Inosuke, who never took it off since then. He smiled at the memory, and that was what made Inosuke let go. Now free, Tanjirou pressed their foreheads together, then their noses, gently nuzzling against the other.

"Sorry for the sudden freak out," Tanjirou whispered.

"Hah! Called it, you were totally freaking out! Just like I said."

Tanjirou hit him lightly on the chest. "Shut up," he ordered, but the laughter in it wasn't in any way persuasive.

#kamado tanjirou #hashibira inosuke #inotan #kny #my writing

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multisfabulis · 5 years

Text

A Game of Spite

Word Count: 4087

TW: Strong language, mention of self harm, mention of past drug usage, and implied abuse

So I went on an unexpected hiatus over on @atsushishelteredinmoonlitjasmine and wrote a kinda vent piece. This is marking the first time I’m putting up a completely unedited segment so this is of lower quality than my other works.

This is also the first segment featuring my other “story” universe, Red Light Dregs! New characters, new setting, and no established links to Corona’s Shadow. Let’s hope people will enjoy it!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA

Luce looked up at the sky as Ravi and Amelia went on ahead of him. Gray clouds covered the expanse above, no trace of blue to be seen. It was hard to tell if it was gonna rain or not, though he leaned more on the latter. Either way, the late morning overcast perfectly set the mood for today.

He’d never been to a cemetery before. He never had any reason to, since the only family he had were his parents and he certainly didn’t want to visit them. However, today was different. He was here on the behalf of his boyfriend and little sister, who came to visit their parents.

It was only a couple days ago Ravi asked him if he wanted to come. Initially, he wasn’t sure, since he didn’t want to intrude on them paying their respects and because parents were a touchy subject for him. Once he met his rose red eyes, though, he could tell he wanted him to come and accepted his invitation. He couldn’t say no to his snowbird, after all.

So here he was. He was shocked at how big it was when he saw it from inside the taxi they took to get over here. That was when he realized the scale in which people died every day. It unnerved him, to say the least.

As he followed the two figures further in, he took in his surroundings. Stone markers were strewn all over green grass, some decorated with flowers, toys, and the like while others were left untouched. Names and dates were engraved or etched on each and every single grave they passed. Some even had pictures of the departed smiling brightly as they once did when they were alive. Would his grave be like these when his time came, adorned with mementos from his loved ones?

A heavy sense of somberness loomed over him. He never gave much thought about death and how he’d want to be dealt with. Why would he, he was only 21 years old and he was more like a reaper with the sizable amount of bodies under his belt. Even when he’d play chicken with the knife slashing across his skin or snort white dust like it was a Pixie Stick, the possibility of death never crossed his mind. Then again, maybe the reason he never thought about death was because the idea of never waking up again scared the shit out of him. Not knowing about what laid beyond death also scared him. Basically, everything about death scared him. He shook his head, stopping himself from thinking about it further.

“Ravi, Ravi, look!” Amelia suddenly shouted, drawing his attention. “It’s the Weeping Angel lady!”

His eyes followed to where she pointed and it was indeed an angelic woman weeping. It was a large statue depicting an angel crying while a wreath of flowers dangled in her hand. It was beautiful, though the splotches of pigeon crap detracted from its beauty some.

“Are we gonna give her flowers again this year?” she asked, looking at her brother expectantly.

“Yeah, we’ll just give them to her after we see mom and dad, okay?” Ravi replied.

“Okay!” She let out a giggle and ran on ahead.

Confused, he caught up to Ravi and asked, “Flowers?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a tradition we have whenever we come here,” he answered. “After we visit mom and dad, Melly gives the statue flowers to ‘make her happy’.”

“She does know it’s a statue, right?”

“Yeah but it makes her happy.”

They continued walking till they reached the northwestern part of the cemetery. It was there they went down one of the many rows of graves to find their destination. He followed after him, trying not to think about how many coffins were underneath their feet as they passed. Then they stopped, having finally arrived.

Amelia was already there, sitting down before two graves. They were simple stone markers, etched with the names “Mason Theodore Allard” and “Valeria Caterina Allard” on them. A string of numbers with their birth and death dates were below the names and they weren’t that much older than him when they died. No mistake, these two were Ravi and Amelia’s dear father and mother.

Sitting down beside her, Ravi greeted the two graves with, “Hey, mom and dad. We’re back.”

He stood around awkwardly as he talked about everything that happened over the past year or so, Amelia chiming in every now and then. What was he to do? He didn’t know them but he didn’t feel it’d be right to leave the two of them alone either. So he just stayed there, biding his time.

“By the way, I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Ravi turned his head to look at him and he already knew what he was going to say. “Luce, get over here.”

“Uh, Snowbird, I don’t know if---”

“Luce, just get the crap over here.”

No use in fighting with him. He sat down beside him, bowing his head in respect while gulping nervously. Well, this was as awkward as he expected it to be. Anything more and this would go into some uncomfortable territory…

“Mom, dad, this is Luce, my boyfriend.” He glanced over to him. “You have anything to say, Luce?”

Well, fuck. Now he had to say something. The only question was what, since his mind wasn’t coming up with jack. Maybe something that was short, sweet, and to the point? That could work.

“Uh… Hey, I’m Luce and I’ve been dating your son for months now,” he said as stiffly and awkwardly as he wished he didn’t. That could’ve gone a lot better…

Letting out a snort, he threw an arm around his shoulders and said, “This is his first time being in a cemetery and meeting important people so he’s gonna suck with his words a little bit.”

Thank god he didn’t have to say anything else. He was already way out of his element being here, he didn’t need to be put on the spot like that too. He let Ravi continue the conversation while he went back to his previous position.

Aside from his talking, he noticed just how quiet the cemetery was. It was strange to not hear the honking of cars and people shouting over each other here. In a way, it was almost… peaceful. If it weren’t for the overwhelming presence of death all around him, he would’ve enjoyed the calm.

The conversation eventually ended, with Ravi fondly saying an “I love you” to the two graves before standing up. Amelia came up next to him and happily declared she was going to the field nearby to pick flowers. So they kept watch over her as she ran around picking the best flowers to give to the Weeping Angel statue.

“Sorry about not saying much,” he said suddenly, “I would’ve prepared more if I had known you’d be introducing me to your parents.”

“Yeah, I probably should’ve been more clear with that, huh?” he replied.

“At least I didn’t mess up that badly.”

“Yeah, you actually did better than I thought you would.”

“Did you not notice how close my voice was to cracking when I brought up how long we were dating?”

“Oh, I did and I’m impressed at how it didn’t.”

“At least mine can crack.”

“Shut the fuck up, you asshole!”

Although his words were harsh, he had an amused smile on his face. Yet, despite that, it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. It was pretty easy to know why, they were only standing a few feet away from where they were buried. He may not show it but it was clear he still missed them.

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he asked, “How were they? Your mom and dad, I mean.”

“You really wanna know?” he answered with a question of his own.

He nodded and Ravi let out a sigh. Despite him asking about them, he wasn’t ready for the discomfort the talk of parents would bring him. Still, he was determined to push past that and listen to him.

“They were...” He paused to clear his throat. “They were good. They worked a lot just to provide for all of us but they tried their best to spend as much time with me as they could. If I had a school thing coming up, they always tried to clear their schedule to be there for me, though it was rare for both of them to show up.

“They were also super supportive of me. Mom cut my hair whenever I thought it was getting too long and picked out clothes she knew I’d like while dad would let me help him out on one of his projects. Hell, there were times I’d walk in on either mom or dad cussing out my teachers or the principal because I either refused to do what they wanted me to do or they excluded me from joining something because I was a ‘girl’.

“Actually, there’s one time in particular where--” he paused again, this time to steady his voice and sniffle before continuing-- “I asked them if they wanted me to be their daughter instead of their son and… they said they loved me, regardless. They loved me and they wanted me to be happy so if I said I was their son, I was their son. They’d always love me because I was their kid, no matter what, and it made me really happy to hear that.”

A single tear slid down his cheek before he even realized it. He blinked back the others and wiped it away, apologizing with a bitter laugh. Luce walked up to him and placed a hand on the back of his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

He knew it had to be hard for him to be the only one to remember them. Amelia was simply too young when they died for her to have memories of them. Course, Ravi was probably angry at that fact. She didn’t get to have enough time to spend with them when she should’ve. It wasn’t fair that their parents were taken away from them when they were still needed but knowing that wouldn’t bring them back. It was just a sad part of reality Ravi accepted a long time ago.

“Again, I’m sorry about crying like that,” he repeated, rubbing at his eyes carefully to avoid smudging his makeup. “It’s just… I miss them a lot, you know, and I wish they were still here.”

What could he say in this situation? It wasn’t like he experienced the same kind of loss like his snowbird had. He felt he’d be disrespecting him by saying empty words he knew didn’t have an ounce of understanding in them. He wanted nothing more than to comfort him but nothing was coming to him. So he opted to continue standing there with a hand on his shoulder, pretending it did something.

“Hey, Snowbird, how do you…” he began to ask, searching for the right words to say, “how do you… get through it?”

“Get through what?”

“You know, everything. Your parents’ death, the worry of not having enough money, all the shit Eli’s done. How do you get through it all?”

He didn’t answer right away, looking deep in thought. It was a question he curiously wanted to know the answer to, though he could’ve picked a better time to ask it. If it wasn’t solely Amelia, then what was it?

“Well, there’s two reasons. The first obviously being the people in my life, meaning both Amelia and--” he gestured to him-- “you. If it weren’t for her and you, I’d have given up a long time ago.”

Scoffing, he said, “I’m surprised. I would’ve thought I’d be considered as one of the bad things in your life.”

“Hey,” he interjected, almost as if he were chiding him, “don’t you ever say that. You may be an asshole that loves to annoy the shit out of me and tease me about practically everything but I’ve never once regretted meeting you or getting to know you or any of that stuff. You’re probably the only good thing that came out of the hellhole we call home.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah. You fell in love with me, despite how I act like a total bitch every day, and you never stared at my tits or ass whenever we met at work. Why wouldn’t you be?”

No words could even come close to describing how speechless he was. It sometimes shocked him how much of a non-filter his snowbird had. Then again, he figured it was part of his charm so it didn’t bother him much.

“Anyway, there’s another reason and it’s a lot more petty than you’d think.” He smirked. “Lemme ask you this question: do you like games?”

“What does that have to do with---”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“...Kinda? I mean, I don’t play them much but I guess I like them?”

“Tell me, would you want to play a game where your opponent plays unfairly?”

“No, cuz then it’d be no fun and there wouldn’t be a point to playing it.”

Still carrying the smirk, he said rather scathingly, “Then you’d think life would play fairly but no… It doesn’t.

“Life and I have this game it likes to play where it wants me to give up by trying its absolute damnedest to throw just the worst shit at me and beat me down with it. I like to think that’s where the saying ‘life’s unfair’ comes from because it’s a helluva a true statement. It’s like your worst enemy wanting you dead for no other reason than it just hating you for existing.

“I don’t like playing games like that. Why should everything be stacked against me when I didn’t ask for any of the crap I got? So I came up with something that’ll piss my opponent, in this case life, off. If I can’t win the game, then the very least I can do is not give it the satisfaction of winning.

“That’s how I’ve gotten through everything. If life wants me to give up, then I refuse to. It��s a game of spite, if you will. Every time life has thrown me a curveball, I tell it to go fuck itself and move on to the next thing it decides to throw at me. It’s a pretty ridiculous way of looking at it, isn’t it?”

It was an… interesting philosophy to subscribe to. See life as if it were a game and refuse to give it a satisfying victory? Real life wasn’t like the board game. It sounded ridiculous and he probably would’ve said it as such. But the fact that Ravi was the one saying all this made it sound so much more believable. Knowing the kind of person he was, of course he’d think like that.

“Nah,” he replied, “it suits you.”

“I guess.” He pulled out his phone to check the time and slipped it back into his pocket. “Listen, can you watch Melly for a bit? I gotta take a quick smoke before we leave.”

“You can’t smoke here?”

“Luce, I think if I were to put out a cigarette and throw the butt onto one of the graves, it’d be extremely disrespectful.”

“...You may have a point. Go on, I’ll watch the snowdove.”

So he headed back the way they came, leaving him to keep an eye on Amelia. She had a large gathering of flowers and the like in her arms and it continued to grow with each one she added. Surely, they’re not all for the statue, he wondered. Another minute or so passed and she ran back with the mismatched bouquet.

Presenting him with it, she said excitedly, “Lucy, look at all the flowers I picked! Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah, they are, Snowdove,” he replied, bending down to take a closer look at it.

The bouquet was comprised of colorful weeds and flowers. Some were in full bloom while others had missing petals or leaves. A few were even left bare, as if it didn’t have the chance to grow beyond a sprout. Still, it was a beautiful bouquet with the heart and care of a child.

She giggled and sat down in front of the graves again. He watched as she carefully placed several flowers beside both the markers. He couldn’t recognize the song she was humming but he didn’t want to interrupt her to ask what it was. Soon, all that was left of the bouquet was a pile of small, crumpled flowers.

“Hey, Lucy? What were your parents like?” she asked suddenly, looking at him with curious eyes.

He instinctively wanted to recoil but resisted the urge to. It wasn’t a question he wanted to answer. He didn’t want to remember all the bad things they did to him when he was a child. They were the reason he was so fucked up, why he hated himself, just everything wrong with him. He hoped they were in the deepest pits of hell for what they did to him. He sent them there so they better be.

But she didn’t know any of that. He didn’t blame her for asking something that a kid in her situation would naturally ask about. He was NOT going to tell her every single thing they did to him, he absolutely refused to. It’d just scar her for life and he did NOT want to be the one responsible for killing her innocence. He’ll just have to answer her in a delicate manner that didn’t bring up bad memories in the process.

“Well, uh…” he began to say, pausing to force the inklings of memory back, “they weren’t… good. They used to hurt me when I was your age. Hurt me a lot and… they weren’t good, not at all. So…”

“Oh…” She played with the hem of her dress. “I’m sorry they used to hurt you. I wish you had a good mom and dad.”

“It’s okay. Besides--” He crouched down next to her and ruffled a hand through her hair-- “I like being a part of this family.”

Giggling, she replied with a smile, “Yeah, I like that you’re family too.”

That was when Ravi returned. She bounced up off the ground and took the small, wrinkled bouquet with her. As she showed it off to him, he had on one of the rare warm smiles he’d only display in quiet moments like this. These two were gonna be the death of him someday.

He stayed a little ways behind them as they all walked back. He wanted some time to think over the conversation he and Ravi had earlier. The whole “life is just a sick game” bit stuck out among everything else.

If life really was a game, what would be the prize? He figured it’d be a good life, a life you can look back on and feel okay with leaving once you died. If that was how Ravi saw it, then he didn’t think he’d be able to have a good life. Maybe even thought he didn’t deserve to live one. Course, if it came down to either him or Amelia to have one, he wouldn’t hesitate to choose her. He found that sad.

He didn’t deserve to live the life he has now. A person as good as him didn’t deserve to have people he loved taken away, to have to put up a mask just to please sleazebags that didn’t truly appreciate him, to be used and abused by someone he trusted. Nobody deserved that kind of life, least of all a guy who’s just trying to raise his little sister in the wretched world they lived in.

Upon thinking that, he wanted to play the game of life. Like his snowbird, he got saddled with issues of his own for no other reason than him existing. However, he didn’t want to cheat it out of a win. He wanted to conquer it and win it himself, the prize being a good life. Wait for an opportunity to show itself, then take it before it vanished. That way, Ravi and Amelia could live a life away from all the destitution.

They stopped by the Weeping Angel statue and, per her request, Amelia gave it flowers. She placed some inside the wreath and carefully stood the rest beside the statue’s lying head. With her hands folded, she stood before it and bowed her head, seemingly praying to the statue.

Seizing an opportunity to talk, he walked up next to Ravi and muttered to him, “I think I’m starting to like games more after talking to you.”

“Oh?” he commented in intrigue, as if he understood the deeper meaning behind his words. “You want to follow my strategy?”

“No, I think I’ve got a better one. Wait for an opening and then go after it to win.”

He chuckled. “Not how I would’ve played but… let’s hope it pans out for you.”

Amelia finished her prayer and said goodbye to the statue. She took hold of Ravi’s hand as they began walking back. He followed after them, looking at all the graves they passed by.

He wondered if they were here too. Probably not, since they were basically criminals that no one would miss being gone. He didn’t want to become like them, he’d kill himself first before turning into them. Now that he was committed to this “game of spite”, he’ll do everything in his power to not end up like them. He was determined to win and get the good life all three of them deserved. No matter what.

#airi's writing #oc; Luce #oc; Ravi #oc; Amelia #Red Light Dregs #strong language #self harm mention #drugs mention #implied abuse

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specialmindz · 5 years

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“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“*Sigh* Why...why do you do this? You know that’s not right.”

“...I’s ready to go Daddy...”

“No. No you’re not.”

“I’s ready to pay in da’ snow...”

“We’re visiting the king,” said Gaster, taking Papyrus’s boots and putting them on correctly.

He should be doing this himself.

“The king in the snow pace?”

“No.”

“He building a snowman?”

“NO.”

“alphys is sick baby bro,” said Sans opening a cabinet. “so i have to help dad work for the next few days. the king volunteered to babysit you for a while-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY?!”

“no pap-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY!”

“papyrus…”

“YOU GOTS TO TELL HIM I’S NOT AN EGG BIG BUTHER!”

“what...?”

“You gots to tell him I’s not an egg! The king be reeeaal tall and stuff so when he sees a tiny skelly baby such as myself, he only see mah bald widdle baby head and he probably think ‘wowie, I find-ed a tiny widdle egg on mah doorstep! I bet there be a baby chicken inside...I bedder sit on it, or is gonna get cold-”

“you’re wearing clothes bro.”

“Yeah, but he can’t sees em’ cause’ he too big...Imma draw a smiley face on my head. Where the markers be?”

“You’re not allowed to have markers.”

“Dat don’t mean I doesn’t need em’. Baby is NOT a butt-plug.”

“what’s a butt-plug?”

Gaster sighed, already exhausted. He didn’t want to bring Papyrus all the way to New Home, and he wanted to leave him there even less. King Asgore was the Underground’s only hope of escape at the moment...the only solid one at least. He was Gaster’s safety net of sorts if Sans turned out to be unable to teleport his brother past the barrier. Without the king, the royal scientist would be an even bigger nervous wreck then he was now, but no one else was willing to watch Papyrus and there was no way on earth the little troublemaker would leave them alone while they worked.

Picking up the baby bones with his wingdings so as to avoid being bitten, he looked the infant in the eye. “His Highness is very lonely Papyrus,” he said gravely. “and what’s worse is he doesn’t know the full extent of your horrendous behavior. That means he’s going to be spending a lot of time with you rather than simply leaving you to play his lost children’s video games; that being said, you need to be kind to him. If he dies, there will be no one strong enough to wield the human souls and break the barrier, understand?”

“Ooooh! Fluffy Buns gonna pay wit da’ baby?!”

“yep, so be nice to him bro. no hitting, no biting, no tearing anything up-”

“Okay, okay. I’s gonna be nice and quiet and just read books like a good bae.”

“NO BOOKS. Do you hear me? NONE. Do not read him ANY stories. He can read to you, but do NOT read to him, do I make myself clear?”

The last thing I need is an hour-long phone call from the old fool trying to find the right words to tell me how to raise my child.

Gaster got a lot of those from the queen long ago if he remembered correctly and they annoyed him to no end. Not just because she took forever to get to the point, but because she refused to even consider the possibility that HER kids were the ones that needed a talking to. In her eyes, it was always Gaster’s fault, not her precious Asriel or Chara.

Even though Papyrus spent most of his time around those two and I’M always working, it’s still somehow more likely MY influence, right.

I do wonder though, whatever happened to the old hag?

I know she abandoned her husband and the kingdom, but where exactly did she run off to?

“I can pay wit da’ snails?”

“You’ll do what he asks you to do.”

Papyrus blew a raspberry in the scientist’s direction, splattering him with drool.

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“have fun baby bro, and tell me everything when you get back okay? maybe if you’re reeeeally good, the king will help you get into daycare!”

“Absolutely not,” said Gaster, placing the baby bones under his arm. “sending him to daycare is out of the question with its current management.”

“huh? why? what’s wrong with undyne’s mom?”

His father shook his head. “I know the woman who works there personally. She uses her child’s temper as a tool for suing parents who leave their children at the daycare she now runs. Whenever Undyne throws a tantrum and hurts someone there, her mother accuses the parents of child abuse, claiming that despite Undyne’s reputation, the children keep trying to play with her because their parents order them to. She has the king completely convinced that they’re getting their kids hurt on purpose so they can sue her. It’s a complete lie of course, she used to work at the lab pulling the same money-grubbing stunts until I fired her.”

And this was BEFORE the Underground was such a poverty pot.

No doubt she’ll try to use Papyrus somehow, wretched woman…

“Her husband fought and died in the war and so Asgore not only sees her as a lover of children who does everything in her power to enrich their lives, but also sympathizes with her. He sees her as a single-parent with a troubled child living in a bad economy and thinks she’s selfless and kind, when in reality she’s as greedy as they come.”

“well...she can’t go doing that forever and ever and ever though right? even if everyone’s poor, the king will eventually figure out she’s lying. he can’t believe the ENTIRE underground’s out to rob her.”

Even if everybody IS poor, he should know he’s being punked. Not EVERYONE is gonna gang up on ONE person, especially if they need that person to watch their kids.

“He’ll figure it out eventually, yes...but for now, Papyrus needs you. He’s better behaved when you’re watching him anyway; now I expect the beakers to be in place by the time I get back Sans-”

“Nyeh? Snas not gonna tellyport da’ baby?”

“nope. dad wants to make me do all the prep work and use your trip to asgore’s as an excuse.”

Gaster rolled his eyes and left the lab. There was no point in retorting, Sans would never understand how lucky he was compared to the other children in the Underground. Unlike them and himself, he wasn’t a victim of poverty and no amount of arguing on Gaster’s part would rid the boy of the entitled attitude that came with living comfortably.

Lazy ungrateful brat...he really thinks every kid sits on their ass all day while their parents work. Preposterous. Back in MY day, we used to work in mines and factories at his age and both places were messier than the Nursery. We spent most of the money we earned on medicine just so we could work more and he’s complaining about setting up a few beakers...?

“I thought Sans Serifs made up for their lack of strength with superior intellect, but clearly I was wrong. Damn that Charles Dickens and his god-awful Oliver Twist novel! If Sans hadn’t gotten ahold of that book-”

“To be, or not to be! Nyeh hee hee!”

“That’s Shakespeare.”

“I has look-ed upon all da’ universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me.”

“And that’s Lovercraft.”

“Waz Lovecafe?”

“Dr. Seuss for adults; you know what it is, you just quoted it.”

“Is mac and cheese?”

“YOU JUST QUOTED IT.”

“Yeah, but maybe I read-ed it off the box?”

“I highly doubt any form of Kraft Mac and Cheese would put the words ‘horror’ and ‘poison’ on their box,” said Gaster tightening his grip on the baby bones. The spring platforms were dangerous in Hotland when you were carrying things. It made him (and a lot of other people he imagined) wish that the elevators were better maintained as good food was only really found at the Resort or in Snowdin. That meant people who lived in Waterfall not only had to brave the harsh climate of Hotland, but also somehow carry their groceries back home across the springboards if ever the elevators were to break down, which was often...and today.

“WHEEEEEEE! DO A FLIP DADDY!”

Despite the overpopulation problem, there just weren’t many people who knew anything about complex machinery. Some monsters knew about the compromise Asgore had made with the humans long ago, but most did not. The deal was if he worked together with them to destroy the Horrors, they would refrain from mass genocide and settle for the monster’s self-imprisonment within Mt. Ebott. The king, in his cowardice, took the agreement and kept it secret from all his people, aside from the handful of Boss monsters he needed to raise the barrier itself...Boss monsters that had to put the barrier up from the outside in order to get it to work, which resulted in their destruction. His Highness, claiming the reason for the team up was because the Horrors posed a bigger threat to the earth, was left with weak monsters of all sorts with different backgrounds. None were prepared for Mt. Ebott. They weren’t a group of scientists, engineers, or soldiers, they were simply confused citizens who were one day told to gather inside a mountain by their king before being sealed inside and fed a bunch of lies.

There’s no one left down here who knows how to fix the elevators except me now, thanks to Papyrus. Asgore’s lucky I was already in here before this place was sealed, or he’d have quite a problem.

It would’ve been nice if he could go back to what he was doing BEFORE the monster came to Mt. Ebott and began piling work on top of him. He wanted and had been studying the strange climate changes within the mountain, trying to hypothesize if the volcanic activity had anything to do with the strange weather and if the source of all magic really stemmed from the Earth’s core, or if it was just a chemical reaction; but it had been so long since he’d seen his notes, he doubted they hadn’t already been chewed up by the hellspawn under his arm. Luckily, skeletons had the lifespan of a monster, and Asgore not only knew about the lack of educated monsters in the Underground, but was doing something about it, putting emphasis on certain subjects in schools and introducing the students to daily logic puzzles so that the next generation would be more tech savvy. It would take a while, but by the time most of the children in the Underground reached adulthood, most of them would know the basics of at LEAST electrical engineering and be able to fix those damn elevators.

If Sans didn’t have one hp I’d absolutely enroll him, but I need someone to watch Papyrus and he’d most likely be killed by one of those bratty school children. He’s too shy, small, and weak to be near anyone immature...I can’t risk it. Especially when I’m so swamped with work.

“It almost makes me want to try again...make a new clone and split it in half, this time the RIGHT way...but if I make another mistake, I’ll have FOUR children...”

“Nyeh?! You’s gonna make more babies?!”

“Absolutely not.”

“I wish to have a widdle sister. Not like Snas, I mean a REAL sissy-”

“Sans is the closest thing to a girl that will ever come near you, and I can say that with the utmost confidence.”

“Undyne a girl...”

“You heard what I said.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“What?”

“Snas say, when he do dat, I’s supposed to say ‘who there.”

“...”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“Stop that.”

Opening the door, Asgore greeted the two with a warm smile. “Welcome Gaster, I’m so glad you decided to bring your little one in person rather than having Sans simply teleport him here.” He bent down until he was eye level with Papyrus. “You’re looking adorable as ever Papyrus, it’s nice to see you too! You look like you’ve gotten a bit bigger since we last saw each other, ho ho ho!”

“You too.”

“PAPYRUS! I’m so sorry your Highness-”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he means well.”

“NYEH HEE HEE!”

Handing Papyrus to Asgore, Gaster frowned as he watched the baby bones snuggle into the king’s chest...a tactic the infant usually used to distract the people he was trying to steal from.

“Get your wingdings out of his pocket. I told you to behave yourself!”

“He’s only curious my friend! I remember when my little Chara was still alive, they used to go through everything-”

“Where all da’ monies at? You’s a king aren’t you? You’s supposed to be wich!”

“Ho ho ho, you’ve got your brother’s sense of humor I see!”

“YOU’S NOT FUNNY!”

“We’re gonna have such a fun day!”

“ERRRNNN!”

“Alright, I’m heading off. I’ll return for Papyrus as soon as you call me,” said Gaster turning to leave.

“As soon as I call you?”

“Correct. When you reach the point where you no longer wish to watch him, give me a call and I’ll pick him up. One, two days would be nice, or whenever you feel like your life is in danger-”

“NYEHHHHHHH!”

“Ah! Oh dear, it’s alright little one, I’m sure he was only joking,” said the king, bobbing the infant up and down in his arms.

“He’s not upset. He’s only crying because that’s what babies do when their parents leave for work, or in my case, to go shopping. Papyrus will do what’s expected of other babies, as long as you’re watching him, in order to convince you he’s a normal infant…despite his exceptional talents. If he gets hungry, simply leave him by himself and he’ll fetch his own food, in fact, leaving him to his own devices is probably the best thing to do in general, especially if you’re at a loss.”

“Leave him by himself? That’s madness! I know he’s not a monster Mr. Wingdings and so should thus be raised differently, but my house is built for large creatures…my cabinets may as well be closets in his eyes! What if he gets into my cleaning supplies? He could be poisoned!”

“I’s going straight for da’ soap!”

“NO you’re not. He’s not your Highness. Remember, he’s a natural born liar and unfortunately, another trait he shares with his brother is he’s very attention-seeking.”

“Is you seeking mah foot up yo’ ass? Cause’ dat’s what it sounds like douche Daddy…”

Gaster didn’t respond. He simply turned and left, leaving behind a very confused and concerned king.

“We’s gonna read a book Fluffy Buns? Daddy said I could read alllll the books I wanted while I’s here…”

“Um…s-sure…” said Asgore, carrying the Horror into the living room. He sat down into his chair and watched as the baby bones used his wingdings to grab a random book from the shelf, all the while struggling to shake the uneasy feeling that had been steadily growing within him since he picked the infant up.

He was familiar with Horrors…he had fought them in the war after all, but he had little to no experience with their children. Apparently, the majority of baby bones were supposedly more intelligent than monster babies, though it did differ with each infant and had a lot to do with their typing. Verbal Fonts, which is what Papyrus was if he recalled, were the first to learn language and so were able to hold entire conversations at a very young age; entire coherent conversations. While other children struggled with multiple lisps, Verbal Fonts would speak clearly and be careful to only alter their speech enough to sound cute and maintain the love of the adults around them.

An intelligent infant is a dangerous thing…combine that with Papyrus’s ability and my love for children in general, and I’m at even greater risk.

I must be very careful of what I say…

“So Papyrus, if I recall correctly, each time you’ve visited my home you’ve crawled straight for my children’s room to play. We’ve never really gotten to know one another, have we?”

Papyrus stopped flipping through the book. “Nyeh?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself little one?”

The baby bones looked at his book and then back at the king as if he were unsure of what to say. For a moment Asgore thought he wasn’t going to speak at all; perhaps talking to Papyrus like an adult wasn’t the best idea. Gaster DID say he tended to act like a regular baby in front of others…

Did I make a mistake?

“*Ahem* My name be Papyrus and I’s two years old,” said the baby bones holding up two fingers. “I enjoy cuhwering, long crawls on da’ beach, and my big Buther’s company…his peasants I mean, he not own a company.”

“Heh heh ha ha!”

“As for my own endevors, I help the Underground by selling cheap affordable drugs to junkies so they overdose and die…or I WOULD do dat, if SOMEBODY would stop cutting off my supply.”

“…”

“Dat someone be YOU Fluffy Buns…”

“…I would appreciate it if you’d get out of the drug trade Papyrus,” said Asgore averting his eyes.

“Well I would appeciate it if you’d stop fuking wit my job security, NYEH!” Papyrus threw the book he was holding onto the floor. It didn’t have any pictures, so it was basically useless.

Not something meant for babies anyway.

“Dis book suck! Where da’ pictures at Fluffy Buns? You get dis from the weird part of the library?”

“Seriously Papyrus, about your job-”

“One time I went to the library to get some books for Snas, and I found a book just like this…cept’ it wasn’t like this, it was all soft like a blankey!” exclaimed the tiny skeleton hugging his Highnesses beard.

“Papyrus.”

“Dis book was weird as hell Mr. Buns! I open it up and it had zippers and buttons in it! BUTTONS! Who puts buttons in a book? They didn’t do nothing either! I undid the zipper AND the buttons and there no pockets or nothin’. What dat spose’ to teach the baby? How that edgy-cation-al? I thought it would at LEAST have pockets with stuff in em’ but it didn’t have CWAP!” yelled the baby kicking his tiny legs.

“…”

“I talked to Dirt-Butt about dis and he said the book was a met-a-phor about life. He said is supposed to teach you that life is full of disappointment and people who look for free hand-outs deserve to BE disappointed-”

“What? No!” cried Asgore horrified. “The book you’re describing is most likely a sensory book. It’s a book that acts as a toy for-who is this ‘Dirt-Butt?’ Why would he say something like that to you?!”

What kind of-

“…I thought it was deep.” Papyrus picked the abandoned book back up. “Dis a meta-book too? What it mean?”

“It…it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a book about snails.”

“I think it mean…exercising yo’ ima-gin-ation be more important than relying on someone else’s. Dat’s why it don’t gots pictures. Is saying ‘exercise your ima-gin-ation and make yo’ own pictures. Make your own books wit pictures so OTHER peoples can enjoy them. Give back to da’ community.’ What you think Fluffy Buns?”

“I think it’s a book about snails.”

CA-CLACK!

Papyrus dropped the book again.

“…”

“I liked dat book, is easy to read.”

“You didn’t read it.”

“There was dis one meta-book I find-ed that I still can’t read dough. Is hard like dis one, made of wood, but it had weird stuffs inside dat was scratchy and rubbery and foamy and-”

“That’s another sensory book. Babies are supposed to touch the things inside the book to learn what they feel like.”

“Even the dead kitty?!”

“Dead kitty?”

What?

“There be a page inside that say ‘kitty’s are soft, feel how soft the kitty is?’ and there be fur sticking out page! I touched it and it was real fur Fluffy Buns! Someone squished a cat in a book and put it on the shelf!”

“No.”

“They squished it flat like Undyne…”

“No, also don’t talk about Undyne’s chest like that…it’s not nice.”

“Why not? She do! I ask her one time, ‘hey Fish-Lady, where your boobs be? Yo’ muder gots boobs, so where yours?’ and she go, ‘I don’t know, I think they ran away while I’s sweeping. My mama keeps hers in a hammock cage thing so they don’t get away, but she never bought me one cause’ she cheap.”

Asgore rubbed at his temples as if trying to will away a headache. He didn’t know if it was Papyrus’s seemingly boundless energy, continuous change in subject matter, or lack of listening skills, but the boss monster was feeling more and more drained as the conversation continued.

He expected a Verbal Font to be a chatterbox of sorts, but he didn’t expect it to physically affect him. It felt as if his mind were currently running a marathon whilst leaving his body behind.

Perhaps I’m just getting old, it’s not as if Asriel didn’t ask a million questions when HE was younger after all…though he wasn’t anywhere NEAR as bad as this. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised however, toddlers are one thing, but babies are quite another; they know even LESS about the world around them. Everything is new and exciting for a baby, so of course a Verbal Font like Papyrus is going to want to talk nonstop about even the smallest of occurrences.

Peeking through his fingers, the king watched Papyrus chatter on, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

Stars above, I can only imagine how tired Mr. Wingdings must be on a regular basis. Perhaps I’ve been pushing him too hard with all these demands…as important as they are, his children should come first.

“…So I say, ‘you needs boobs Fish-Lady for your footure babies! Erybody knows muder milk be the most nutritious!’ and then she did dat thing where her eyes get real big and her voice get loud and she scream, ‘OH MY GOD! WHAT IF SOMEONE STOLE MY BOOBIES WHILE I WAS SWEEPING SO THEY COULD HAVE FREE MILK?! WE MUST CAPTURE THESE VILLAINS AND BRING THEM TO JUSTICE!”

Asgore brought his hands down. “Was this last week?”

“Nyeh? I don’t know, why?”

“Because I got a lot of complaints about Undyne last week. That’s why.”

“Then yep, probably, cause’ she and I went around asking people bout’ her boobs and she beat up lossa people. The ones who laughed. She said only bad guys laugh at the unfor-tune-ate.”

“That’s,” the king groaned pitifully. “That’s not a good reason to assault people…”

“Is good enough for her.”

“I CAN SEE THAT,” said Asgore loudly before quickly catching himself and correcting his volume. “How about I make us some tea?” Getting up, he sat the baby bones on the chair behind him and headed towards the kitchen, a tactic he often used whenever he was in an uncomfortable situation, however he didn’t miss the glare the little Horror shot him on his way there.

“Babies don’t dwink tea! Babies dwink MILK! Dat’s why Undyne’s boobies be so important! Why you no listen?”

“I’m listening…”

“No you’re not, you weave right in da’ middle of mah story!”

“You’ve told many stories already, why not take a break?”

“A bake? I don’t need no bake! I gots to pactice my font daily or I’ll be weak when I gets big!”

His Highness glanced over his shoulder, placing a full kettle of water on the stove. “I see…so these stories of yours are a way for you to practice your lying without suffering any severe long-term consequences. I suppose it’s safe to assume then that most of what you’ve said about Undyne’s…rampage, is entirely false?”

“I doesn’t remember ERYTHING she say, or the EXACT words she used, but I’s still telling the tooth. I’s a good bae, ya’ know? I help Undyne when she was feeling sad about not finding her boobies even dough I didn’t have to. I told her mah Daddy could make her some new boobs wit his science and then she was happy, all cause’ of me.”

“Your father eh? So if I call your father, he’ll tell me the same thing?”

“Yep. I aspect so. He the one who solved da’ mystery of the missing boobies too! My Daddy a hero even dough he suck.”

“Right.” The king stood in near the stove watching the kettle, he was torn between going back to the living room and hiding in the kitchen. He WANTED to keep listening to Papyrus, but he was tired and the infant’s loud high-pitched voice was becoming unbearable. He wasn’t sure how much helium Gaster was pumping into that baby’s room, but it sounded lethal, which was too bad because one of the few things Asgore took pride in was the fact that he was a much better listener than his wife. He loved her, but he was all too aware of her awful tendency to jump to conclusions before hearing an entire story and how much pain it could bring others, so he made it a point to do better. To BE better. It was almost like a secret and silent competition of sorts where he would struggle to become the prince’s favorite parent…though it was embarrassing to admit and deep down, he knew it wasn’t right.

There was even a shameful time when he went overboard and blamed her a bit for their children’s deaths, though he NEVER said anything about it verbally. As king, he had to work most of the time to maintain the Underground, especially considering the shape it was currently in, which meant TORIEL was in charge of watching the children throughout the day. He didn’t know exactly WHEN Asriel left for the human village, but there was a time when he suspected it was while his wife was supposed to be keeping an eye on them. The idea should have made angry or sad, but instead he only felt an embarrassing sense of triumph that he hated himself for.

That is, until Gaster set him straight one night at Grillby’s.

“Don’t be a fool. Your child left in the middle of the night; it was no one’s fault, much less your own, unless you make a habit out of watching your offspring sleep.”

“How can you be so sure? We don’t have cameras around our house OR the barrier.”

“Common sense. Her Highness homeschools them in the morning so it’d be impossible to leave at that time and had the prince left in the afternoon, it would have taken him hours to traverse his way down the mountain due to the unfamiliar terrain and to even FIND the village. He’d only be able to reach it by nightfall when most of the humans sleep.”

“I…I see.”

“You’ve spent most of your life in the countryside, you must know what it’s like. The small villages that dot such places usually comprise of farmers…an early to bed, early to rise type of people. There’s little to no chance that there’d be enough of them awake to swarm your son, unless he left in the middle of the night and arrived at the village in the morning. Blaming yourself is irrational behavior, as is drinking away your day at the bar.”

“Y-You’re right…thank you.”

“…Then I tell Undyne to use her cute voice cause’ my stink Daddy don’t look up from his papers, but she still scu it up. She go ‘peas mister science man, can you make me some new boobies? I needs em’ for my wife and kids.” Papyrus shook his head. “Stupid Fish-Lady, I told her she stupid too. Wives don’t need milk, BABIES need milk, but she call me a clown fish and told me to shut my cwap mouth. ‘You doesn’t know ANYTHING stupid baby! I saw my mama use milk for her coffee and big people LOVE coffee, so he gonna feel bad for mah wife and kids and give me boobs for a bargain!”

“…I’m curious as to what your father’s response was.”

“Daddy told her dat she took after her muder and to ask HER where her boobies were.”

Asgore nodded, though the baby couldn’t see him.

Ahh, the old ask-your-mother response. I remember using that many a time.

If he recalled however, it never ended well. Passing uncomfortable situations like that onto his wife proved to be...problematic, as the queen was stubborn in her ways.

“I do hope you didn’t bother that poor woman Papyrus.”

“Nyeh? Poor?” Papyrus looked confused. “She not poor! Undyne’s muder wich! I knows cause’ she gots vases with no flowers in them. I asked her why that be and she said it was none of my beeswax and to not come in her house when the door be locked…I think she sold Undyne’s boobies Mr. Buns, but I can’t proves nothing…I think dat’s what Daddy was trying to tell us.”

“I assure you, she did nothing of the sort-”

“Can I borrow yo’ boobs Fluffy? You doesn’t need them no more right? You give them to Undyne?”

“I don’t…I don’t have those things,” said Asgore, wincing as he heard the pitter patter of tiny boots headed towards the kitchen.

“You look like you do…” said the baby peeking around the corner.

“WELL I DON’T.”

“But you look like you do…hey, what chu doing?” asked Papyrus tilting his head.

Picking up the infant, Asgore began carrying the Horror towards the room he was currently renovating. “Why don’t we go play a game while the water’s boiling, hm? I’m sure you’d rather spend time playing than talking to an old man like me. I’ll even play with you! How’s that sound?”

“Annoying…”

“Ho ho ho!”

As his Highness began to set up the game counsel (something that had to be done every time his children played a game), Papyrus glanced around the room, the previous conversation forgotten. Nothing had really changed since he’d last been in here…in a sense anyway. Chara and Asriel had always been very competitive and it continuously resulted in the destruction of everything in the area except the game counsels they were using. The place itself was a mess of broken toys like the Nursery, but there were scorch marks every which way and bits of splintered wood from destroyed furniture. To his right he could see something that may have once been a table of sorts, so he imagined the princes might have been eating and gaming in the same place; a practice he THOUGHT their mother had banned long ago due to the stains on the wall from food that had no doubt been thrown in a rage after one of the children’s gaming sessions.

Despite spending so much time together, the two had personality traits that contrasted greatly with one another. Asriel was a coward and Chara wasn’t.

That being said, the little goat monster had a tendency to use underhanded tactics to win games when he saw he was losing, such as complaining to their mother about Chara killing Yoshi so he could keep his high score in Mario, or pretending to “accidently” pull his controller out of its socket so his loss wouldn’t count. It infuriated Chara, who was much more mature when gaming, and it often led to violent fights and ultimately their games being taken away for a week or so while the king and queen had the game room repaired.

As a baby that valued courage more than most, Asriel’s behavior disgusted Papyrus, but he stayed quiet about it while he was over. After all, the baby was a guest and no one was perfect. He suspected that Asriel’s parents and environment in general played a big part in feeding his friend’s cowardice, that and monster babies weren’t like skelly babies. They didn’t seem to have the natural instinct Papyrus had to try and grow up properly. They weren’t born with a sense of discipline or ambition; In fact, from what he DID see, all monster babies did was sit around and wait for others to do things for them. He knew because they didn’t change when they became toddlers or even children like Asriel. They still spent all day playing for fun and making demands instead of practicing their magic or trying to intentionally learn new things.

“They spoiled.”

“Hm?” Asgore turned from the counsel and looked around. “Yes, I suppose we did spoil our children a bit. There are times when I wonder in fact, if they’d still be alive if I had been stricter with them…made them afraid to leave the house without permission.” He chuckled and sat on the floor next to Papyrus. “Then again, children will be children and Asriel shared his mother’s stubbornness. He’d of left no matter what I threatened him with.”

Papyrus took up a Gamecube controller and glanced doubtfully at the king. “You know how to pay dis game, or is you gonna be an old person da’ whole time?”

“Excuse me? I set up the game-box didn’t I? Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean ALL technology eludes me young man!” Turning on the game, they watched through the cinematics until only the title screen SUPER SMASH BROS MELEE remained with the words “PRESS START” fading in and out at the bottom.

“…”

“…Why isn’t it starting?”

“See dat button in the middle of the controller there?”

“Which button?”

“The only one in da’ middle. The one that say ‘start.”

“This one?”

“Pess it.”

Asgore pressed the start button and they were taken to another screen with multiple choices that immediately made the infant regret keeping quiet about the choice of game.

“So this is that Super Smashing Fighters game you all love so much! Look at all these options…since I’m a ‘noob’ heh heh heh, I think I need some training…what does ‘1-P’ mean?”

“Go to ‘VS. Mode.”

“Alright…oh. Oh I see,” said Asgore as he was taken to the character screen. “Going straight to the game are we? You’re like Asriel it seems. You don’t want to give me a chance to learn how to play, you just want to win.”

“No Fluffy.”

“You wish to take advantage of my old age and lack of understanding.”

“No. We’s gonna fight as a team. Pick yo’ peoples.”

“OH! OH I KNOW THIS MONSTER! IT’S PIKACHU!”

“Pick yo’ peoples.”

“How do I pick Pikachu?”

Taking the controller from Asgore, Papyrus hovered over the yellow mouse and pressed the ‘A’ button. “You see dis button Mr. Buns? See how it gween like a stop light? Think of dis button as the ‘yes button’ If you want something you use the ‘yes button’ to get it. The red button here be the ‘no button’ if you don’t want something, you pess the ‘no button’ kay’? Cause’ red be a bad color dat means STOP like a stop sign.”

“What?”

“Use dis to pick stuff and dis to go back.”

“Oh alright.”

So as to avoid more annoyances, Papyrus went ahead and made the proper arrangements for their team battle, choosing Kirby as his character.

“Dis game needs more babies…”

“Papyrus. Papyrus look.” Asgore pressed a button on his controller. “He’s got a little hat, ho ho ho!”

“…”

“Aren’t you going to dress up your pink guy?”

“He don’t get clothes till he eat you.”

“Oh my goodness, there’s a princess in the game! Papyrus choose the princess, I bet she has nice clothes…oh no wait, be Pichu! That’s Pikachu’s baby right? We can be a family of fighters!”

“Pichu sucks.”

“But we can be father and son and-”

Papyrus quickly changed his character to Pichu and put Princess Peach and Kirby in the other two slots as their opponents. “Okay, there. I’s Pichu. We pay now?”

“Does he have any-”

The baby bones changed his costume.

“How adorable! This game is so very very cute! I don’t see why Tori had such a problem with it…maybe she didn’t know about the outfits? She had a habit of making mountains out of mole hills that woman…how do we proceed?”

Pressing ‘Start’ they made it to the stage selection screen where, thankfully, the king immediately chose the one with the giant pokeball on it, having apparently recognized the object from an old video series his children had found miraculously intact at the Dump.

As the game began, Papyrus’s annoyance faded a bit as he watched Asgore test out the controls without asking about them. He may not have known much about technology, but obviously his battle instincts transferred into the game, as he seemed to instinctively know not to distract Papyrus during the fight…that is…until he noticed their opponents where no match for the Horror.

“How do I catch you?”

“Nyeh?”

“How do I catch Pichu? Every time I throw these pokeball things at you they turn out to have someone in them already. Where are the empty ones, or how do I empty them out before catching you?”

“DON’T CATCH DA’ BABY!”

“You’ll be safe in the pokeball. It’s part of a grand strategy-”

“Dis not Pokemon! Dis MELEE! You just supposed to kill da’ pencess and the pink bae-”

“What? Killing?! This is a FIGHTING game Papyrus, we’re supposed to be JUST fighting, not killing!” His highness grumbled in frustration as the princess sent him flying into the abyss.

BOOSH!

“Is just a game Mr. Buns.”

“There are more important things in life than winning, child. Don’t-DON’T YOU PICK UP THAT HAMMER PAPYRUS! Did you not get in trouble for using such a thing in real life?!”

BOOSH!

Once again, Pikachu met his end to a frying pan.

The baby bones patted the king’s arm in an attempt to comfort the agitated monster. “Don’t be mad Fluffy, you do bedder next time!”

“What? I’m not angry! I’m not angry and that’s not the point!”

“You are. You’s mad cause’ the pencess be kicking you in your asshole.”

“She’s not-she’s not beating me, I’m letting her win because she’s a woman. It’s not good to hit women Papyrus, that’s not how a gentleman behaves!”

“Liar. She kick yo’ ass and now you’s mad.”

“I’m NOT angry. There’s nothing to be ANGRY about! This isn’t even a real GAME child! I told you I didn’t know how to play, so I need training. This game doesn’t count, it’s merely a learning experience!”

“A learning ah-sperience?”

“Quite.”

“Hm…then perhaps during dis game you can learn to be less of a bitch.”

“…”

“…What?”

“I’m calling your father.”

“Nyeh? Why? What I do?”

“You’re using naughty words and doing naughty things.”

“Ohhh, you wanna cry to my Daddy cause’ you feel embarrassed and you wants time to get good.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You wanna send baby home so you can pactice.”

“Absolutely not!”

REEEEEEEEEE!

“Oh look, yo’ tea be done! Now you can go to da’ kitchen and peetend mah Daddy just called to check up on things!”

“PERHAPS HE WILL CALL!”

CA-THUM!

As Asgore stormed away, slamming the door behind him, Papyrus crawled over to the prince’s toy chest to scavenge for new crayons to take home with him.

It was unfortunate that Asgore and Asriel were so very much alike when it came to anything competitive, but that didn’t mean he and Papyrus couldn’t get along in general. He had had a good time talking to the king and even though he was mad, the infant wasn’t worried in the slightest. His Highness was upset, but he wouldn’t stay that way forever. Despite the fact that he was definitely going home, he knew he and the king would play again some other day and the baby was looking forward to it.

And as for Asgore himself, he decided allowing Papyrus to ingest a bit of soap wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry for the wait, I had a computer error that erased ALL of my progress. Even if I did make the one month deadline, this still should have been done earlier, so I made it longer as compensation.

Also I finished another chapter of Fonttale 3, so there’s that too. I hope you all have a good holiday with your loved ones and remember to cherish them while they’re still around.

On another important note, I’ve no idea who drew this, but appreciate it’s existence. I tried looking it up through reverse image searching, but after it showed me a ton of results and I clicked on one, Norton freaked out and warned me that it had just blocked something...so if you want to know who drew this, reverse image search is NOT the way to go, otherwise you’ll risk your shit. Just thought I’d warn people who don’t have computer protection.

#Fonttale #Fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Papyrus #Baby Papyrus #Gaster #Sans #kid sans #Asgore #a bit of deltarune

39 notes · View notes

barchiefanfiction · 6 years

Note

prompt where jughead dies at the end of 2.20 and archie comforts betty until months and months later as she slowly gets over jughead’s death, both archie and betty develop feelings for each other?

Laying Upon the Dead With You

by @elsiestubbs

AO3 // ff.net

It’s raining the day of Jughead’s funeral. Not pouring,nothing that dramatic. Just a constant drizzle that seems like it will neverlet up, like it’s some kind of sign of how life is going to feel from now on.Without Jughead.

Archie stands between Veronica and his Dad at the service,his hands folded in front of him. Hermione stands behind Veronica, but Hiram isnowhere to be seen. Across the shiny black coffin adorned with flowers, Bettystands with her mom and sister. Droplets of water cling to her hair, themoisture causing tiny curls to form around her face. Her eyes are rimmed red,like she hasn’t stopped crying for the past three days. Alice has a blackumbrella but Betty stands just in front of it. Archie wonders if she’s evennoticed it’s raining.

The rest of Jughead’s friends and family are gatheredaround, everyone dressed in black, though that isn’t unusual for the Serpents.Grey clings to them, the sky just as morbid as the congregation. The red roseson the coffin are the only splash of colour that can be seen. Blood red. Itmakes Archie want to vomit.

They gather at Pop’s afterwards. It’s supposed to be acelebration of Jughead’s life, where people reminisce and tell stories aboutJughead. Archie tries, he really does. He can tell FP is trying too, but it’stoo soon. Maybe someday they’ll be able to talk about it, but not today.

Veronica, on the other hand, has no trouble. Archie isthankful for the easy way she takes control, putting on Jughead’s favouritesongs, asking people about their favourite memories of Jughead. It’s a weightoff Archie’s shoulders, knowing he doesn’t have to be the one to do that.

He finds Betty sitting by herself, tucked away in a cornerof a booth, staring out the window, miles away. She’s not crying now, but herface is stained with tears. Archie slides into the booth beside her and sheturns to face him.

“How are you doing?” he asks. Stupid question. Betty shakesher head.

“I keep thinking it’s not real, you know?” she says. Hervoice is hoarse. “That he’s going to walk right through that door and wonderwhat the hell we’re all so sad about.”

“I know. Me too.”

Betty presses her lips together and blinks back tears. “Howam I going to go on without him?”

Archie shakes his head. He doesn’t have an answer for her,not sure there is one. Instead he offers his arms and Betty lets him embraceher. Words have never been Archie’s strong suit, but perhaps its enough for nowto just be there to stroke Betty’s hair while she cries into his shoulder.

Betty doesn’t come to school for a week. Archie can’t blameher. Her boyfriend dead and her Dad arrested in one night. She needs time torecover. Still, he worries about her. Veronica tells him Betty needs time andspace. Time, sure, Archie gets it. He’s still processing himself. Sometimeshe’ll think he’s fine, but then he notices an empty space where Jughead shouldbe, as if everyone is still leaving room for him. It’s like a punch in the gutevery time.

Space, on the other hand? Archie isn’t so sure. He’s sure itcan’t be good for her to be alone in that house all the time. He tries to callher but she doesn’t pick up. He tries to catch her attention through theirbedroom windows, but her curtains are shut. He sends her a text, and sheresponds, telling him she’s fine, but she’d rather be alone right now.

Archie respects her wishes, but he still worries about her.

Veronica practically lives at his house now. She can’t standto be around her father, and since she spent all her money on buying the WhyteWyrm and subsequently trading it for Pop’s, she has nowhere else to go. Notthat Archie minds. He’s glad to have her there. He’s not sure he could copewith sleeping alone.

She doesn’t walk home from school with him though. Archietakes a detour every afternoon to the cemetery to visit Jughead’s grave. Hesits there for a few minutes and tells him the mundane things that happened atschool that day. He doesn’t bring flowers or anything, but there are alwaysfresh ones there. Archie assumes they’re from Betty.

After a week of not seeing her, and barely hearing from her,he decides enough is enough. There’s no way being alone is what’s best for her.She needs her friends. He tries to convince Veronica to come with him, butVeronica declines, saying she doesn’t want to overwhelm her.

Alice opens the door.

“Archie,” she says, and she doesn’t exactly smile, but shedoesn’t exactly frown either. She lets him inside. “Betty’s upstairs in herroom. Perhaps you can convince her to eat something.”

Archie nods. Alice disappears into the kitchen and returnsholding a plate with a sandwich, and a glass of juice in the other hand. Archietakes them from her and heads upstairs. He doesn’t have enough free hands toknock on her bedroom door, so he just pushes on it with his foot, and it swingsopen.

The room is dark, all the curtain closed. Archie can vaguelymake out Betty’s form, curled up on the bed, huddled underneath her doona.

“Go away, Mom,” Betty says. “I told you I’m not hungry.”

“It’s Archie.”

Betty doesn’t move. Archie kicks the door shut and walksover to her. He sets the plate and glass down on her nightstand and sits besideher on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” Betty asks.

“I was worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Betty—”

She sits up. Her face is hollow, haunted. Her eyes are red,her hair greasy.

“I’m fine, Arch,” she says. “Really.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“I just need some more time to grieve,” she whispers.

“You need to eat,” Archie says gently. “And you need to getout and get some sun. And you need to see your friends. We’re here for you.”

“I know, Arch.”

“Betty, if you need to talk—”

“I know,” shesays. “I know.”

Archie frowns, concerned. As if to show him she’s fine,Betty picks up the sandwich and takes a bite. She chews slowly, and Archiewatches her until she swallows.

“Do you want me to go?” Archie asks. Betty nods. Archie patsher knee and stands up. She wants him gone, so he has to go. But he vows tocome back tomorrow. “Come back to school soon. We all miss you.”

The sound of his phone vibrating against his bedside tablewakes him in the middle of the night. He reaches for it, squinting at thebrightness of the screen as he checks it in the dark. Betty. Veronica stirsbeside him.

“Betty?” he answers, softly but urgently. His stomach is inknots.

“Archie,” shesobs. Archie immediately untangles himself from Veronica and shoots out of bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“You were right. I’m not okay, I—” she stops. “Can I comeover?”

Archie glances at Veronica, lying fast asleep in his bed.“I’ll come to you.”

He lets himself into the Cooper house with the spare key andtries to be as quiet as possible as he ascends the stairs. The scene in Betty’sbedroom is much the same as that afternoon. Only now, he can hear Betty quietlysobbing. He’s across the room in two quick strides, pulling her into his arms. Bettycries into his shoulder, sobs wracking her body.

“I miss him so much,” she says.

“I know,” Archie says, rubbing her back. He misses Jugheadtoo.

“I can’t stand being here in this house, everything eitherreminds me of Jug or my dad. But I can’t bring myself to go anywhere either. Idon’t want everyone looking at me, talking about me. Everybody probably hatesme because of my dad. Or they feel sorry for me because of Jug—” she cutsherself off with another loud sob.

“I can’t eat, I can’t sleep,” she says. Tears take over, andArchie pulls her tighter.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay,” he tells her, though he knowsit doesn’t mean anything.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Betty sniffles.

“As long as you need.”

When he checks his phone the following morning he has fourmissed calls from Veronica. Betty is still fast asleep so he gets up and takeshis phone out into the hall, almost running into Alice.

“Mrs Cooper,” he says nervously. She seems surprised but notangry.

“Archie,” she nods. “Is Betty—”

“She’s asleep,” Archie tells her. Alice breathes a sigh ofrelief. For the first time Archie notices that Alice also looks like she hasn’tslept in days.

“Are you okay, Mrs Cooper?” he asks her.

“I’m fine, Archie,” she says, patting his shoulder. Shegives him a tight-lipped smile before heading downstairs. Archie’s phone startsbuzzing again and he quickly answers it.

“Ronnie—” he starts.

“Finally!” she snaps. “Where are you? I’ve been worriedsick.”

“I’m at Betty’s. She called me last night.”

“Oh.”

“I was right, Ronnie. She needs us,” Archie says.

“She needs you.I’m glad you were there for her. But next time would you leave a note orsomething?” Veronica sighs.

“Yeah, of course,” Archie says, feeling guilty. “Sorry,Ronnie.”

He ends the call and turns to find Betty standing in thedoorway behind him.

“You’re up,” he says. Betty nods.

“Was that Veronica?”

“Yeah. I forgot to tell her where I was going last night,”says Archie. He pauses. “Are you going to come to school today?”

Betty bites her lip. She shakes her head. “Just… just today.I promise I’ll come back on Monday.”

Archie nods. “I’ll be right there by your side.”

Betty calls again that night. Veronica wakes up this time.

“Was that Betty again?”

“Yeah.” He gets out of bed and throws a shirt on. “Youshould come this time.”

Veronica hesitates. “No,” she says. “It’s better if it’sjust you.”

Archie frowns, but he doesn’t fight her. It’s almost as ifVeronica is actually avoiding Betty,not just giving her space. But he doesn’t have time to deal with that rightnow. He goes to Betty, like he did the night before, and immediately crawlsinto bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her, her back to his chest.

“Thanks for coming,” she whispers. “Is Veronica—”

“She knows I’m here,” Archie says. “It’s okay.” He leavesout the part where Veronica didn’t want to come with him.

“Does it make it easier? Having someone?” Betty asks.

“A little bit,” Archie says. “I still have nightmaressometimes.”

“Me too. That’s why I stopped sleeping. But last night wasbetter.”

“Glad I could help.”

The third night, she’s crying again. She doesn’t sayanything as he crawls into bed beside her, but she buries her head into hischest. Her breathing slowly becomes more even and the tears eventually stop.

“I’m a terrible person,” Betty whispers.

“Of course you’re not,” Archie says immediately, though hehas no clue what she’s referring to. “Is this because of your dad?”

Betty shakes her head. “I haven’t been to see him since thefuneral.”

“You don’t have to,” Archie says. “You don’t owe himanything.”

“Not my dad. Jughead.”

That surprises Archie. “Why?” he blurts out, alreadyregretting the word. But Betty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Seeing his name on that headstone…” Betty swallows. “Itmakes it too real. And it’s not like he’s really there. He’s gone.” Hervoice breaks on the word gone.

“You’re right,” Archie says slowly. “He’s not there. Notreally. But it’s nice to have somewhere to go, to talk to him. I like to thinkhe can hear me.”

“You talk to him?”

“Yeah. Just boring stuff. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No,” Betty says. “I want to talk to him too.”

“We could go now.”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“It’s the middle of the night. They lock the gates atnight.”

“So we’ll climb over them.”

Betty pauses.

“Okay,” she agrees.

They walk to the cemetery in near silence, their footstepson the pavement the only noise they make. The rest of the night is quiet aroundthem, except for the trees rustling in the slight breeze. Archie glances atBetty occasionally, to make sure she’s okay. She’s quiet, but she’s not crying.That’s something.

Archie scales the gate first, and it rattles with everymovement.

“Shh!” Betty hisses up at him. “We’ll get caught.”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” Archie says. He reachesthe top and clambers over. His foot gets caught as he tries to swing it overand he falls to the other side with a thud.

“Ow,” he says.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says. And then, for whatever reason, he startslaughing. He thinks it might be the first time he’s laughed since Jughead died.

“I think you might have hit your head,” Betty says, climbingover the gate after him. She drops to the ground beside him with much moregrace than he had managed. She offers her hand and he takes it, letting herhelp him up. He surveys the darkened graveyard.

“We should have brought a flashlight,” he realises. Bettypulls a tiny one out of her jacket pocket and switches it on. Archie grins.That’s the Betty he knows.

Betty leads the way to Jughead’s grave. Archie sticks closebehind her. It’s not that he’s afraid or anything, but the way the headstoneskind of loom in the shadows creeps him out. He’s wondering why he suggestedthis.

They find Jughead’s resting place and Betty shines theflashlight across the headstone.

Here Lies Forsythe“Jughead” Jones III

Beloved son and treasuredfriend

2002 – 2018

Archie swallows. He’s read the words enough times. Theynever seem to do the man he knew justice.

The light falls on the bunch of fresh lilies that lie on thegrave.

“Did you leave these?” Betty asks. Archie shakes his head.Up until now, Archie had assumed the flowers that constantly adorned Jughead’sgrave were the work of Betty. Perhaps FP has been leaving flowers. It seems outof character, but it is his son after all.

Betty sits on the grass beside the headstone, and Archie joinsher. She traces a finger over Jughead’s name before switching off theflashlight.

“Jughead…” she starts. Her voice wobbles. Archie reaches outand takes her hand. He gives it a comforting squeeze. Betty takes a deep breathand tries again.

Archie isn’t sure how long they sit there, Betty’s hand inhis as she tells Jughead about how much she misses him, how much she wishes hewere here. She doesn’t cry until she’s nearly finished, and she instinctivelyleans towards Archie, letting him bear the weight of her tears.

They walk home hand in hand.

Betty returns to school on Monday as she promised, andArchie accompanies her, as he promised. Veronica claims she has to be at schoolearly.

People give Betty looks of pity and ask her how she’s doing.She tells them all she’s fine, but her smile is not even a little convincing.Everyone is delicate with her. Except Veronica. Veronica barely speaks to herat all.

The three of them sit together at lunch, but Archie doesmost of the talking. Come home time, Veronica says she needs to talk toPrincipal Weatherbee about something, and Archie and Betty walk home withouther.

“How are you doing?” Archie asks Betty on their way home. Bettyshrugs. “As bad as you thought?”

“No,” Betty sighs. “You were right. It’s better to be out ofthe house.”

Archie nods as they reach his house. “Call me if you needme,” he says. Betty gives him a half smile, slightly more genuine than the oneshe’d been giving everyone else all day.

“Thanks, Arch.”

Veronica gets home twenty minutes later. She’s lookingguilty, like she already knows what Archie’s going to ask her.

“Why are you avoiding Betty?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. And whenshe needs her friends the most. What gives?”

Veronica looks pained. Her eyes flutter closed and her mouthforms a tight line. She sighs. “I feel guilty,” she finally says.

“Guilty?”

“Yes!” she bursts out. “What if she blames me, Archie?”

“For… Jughead’s death?” Archie says wondrously. How she cameto that conclusion he can’t fathom. Veronica nods. “But that was Penny and theGhoulies… how could you possibly think…?”

“You think my father wasn’t behind this?” she snorts. Archiegapes at her. He licks his lips.

“Even—even if that’s true,” Archie says, and he’s notconvinced it isn’t true, “that’s notyou. You aren’t your father. You would never condone—”

“That’s the thing, Archie, I did condone this! Not this specifically, but did I not help myfather every step of the way? Was I not his fiercest supporter up to thismoment?”

“If you believe that, then you must believe it’s partly myfault too.”

“No, Archiekins,” she says softly. “It was never you. Myfather did whatever he could to manipulate you. And I let him,” she says,disgusted.

“Ronnie—” Archie starts. He can’t let her think that any ofthis is her fault. She would never, neverhurt someone the way Hiram has hurt people. She’s good, this Archie knows.

“It will just take some time, Archie,” Veronica says. “I’llgive her some space and then eventually, hopefullywe can be friends again. But you need to be there for her.”

Archie nods. He had no intention of doing otherwise.

“In the meantime, I’ll just keep making sure there arealways flowers on his grave,” Veronica says.

“That’s you?”

She nods. “It’s the least I can do.”

Archie doesn’t hear from Betty for a couple of nights. Theywalk to school together and hang out at school together, but she doesn’t callhim crying in the middle of the night. She looks tired, but Archie doesn’tcomment on it.

She doesn’t call him, until she does, nights later, hervoice a hoarse whisper.

“Sorry to call,” she says as Archie takes the call out intothe hallway. “I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“I don’t want to be in this house. Can I come to you?”

“Veronica’s here.”

A beat. “Oh. Of course. I’m sorry, I—”

“Meet me outside in five minutes.”

“Okay.”

He sneaks back into his room and dresses quietly, then headsdownstairs, grabbing his dad’s car keys as he slips out the front door. Bettyis already standing in his driveway when he gets outside. He waves the keys ather and she meets him at the car, climbing into the passenger seat while Archiehops into the driver’s side. He starts the car.

“Where are we going?” she asks him.

“Wherever you like,” he says, backing out of the driveway. Shesays nothing, so he just drives. He heads out of town, passing no one else onthe road as he drives. They stay silent until the lights of the town are wellbehind them, where Betty turns the radio on.

“Feeling any better?” Archie asks her.

“Honestly, I felt better as soon as I heard your voice. Butbeing out of that house helps too.”

Archie assumes the hatred of the house is more to do withher father being a serial killer than with Jughead being gone. But Jugheadbeing gone can’t help.

“It must be lonely.”

“Yeah…” Betty sighs. “I think I could deal with my dad beingthe black hood, if only I had Jughead to help me through it.”

Archie swallows. “I know it’s not the same, but… you knowI’m always here, right? Whenever you want to talk about your dad, or Jughead.Or whatever. I’m here.”

Betty almost smiles. “I know. Thanks, Arch. Not right now.I’m kind of exhausted.”

“Have you been sleeping?” He asks the question, though healready knows the answer.

Betty shakes her head. “Not since you last slept over.”

“You can sleep now, if you want,” he says.

“What about you?”

“I’m not tired,” he lies. He’s not sure if Betty believeshim, or if she’s just too tired to argue, but she tilts her seat back andcloses her eyes. It isn’t long before her breathing becomes slow and even, themotion of the vehicle putting her to sleep like a baby. Archie glances at herout the corner of his eye, and finds his heart swell with fondness. She looksso peaceful like that. He hopes she’s dreaming of something good.

They don’t go for a drive every night, but it becomes ahabit. Sometimes he’s already waiting in the car when she calls. He neverbothers to wake Veronica, he knows she won’t want to come. And he finds hedoesn’t want her to come.

She wakes up one night as he’s sneaking out, and he freezesin the doorway, caught in the act.

“Is it Betty again?” Veronica croaks in the darkness.

“Yeah,” Archie says. He has no idea if Veronica knows justhow often he leaves her in the middle of the night. A lot of the time he makesit back in time to wake up with her in the morning, but sometimes he just staysat Betty’s. He knows Betty will sleep better if he’s there.

“Should I come?” Veronica asks hesitantly. He feels a rushof sudden resentment, and he panics, trying to think of a way to tell her notto come. This is his time with Betty. He doesn’t want Veronica intruding.Because that’s what she would be, if she sat there in the back seat; anintruder. He doesn’t want her there, witnessing how he is with Betty.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Archie says. He holds hisbreath, waiting for her answer.

“Maybe next time,” Veronica says. Archie breathes a sigh ofrelief.

“Okay,” he says. He leaves without another word.

Veronica never asks if she should come along again. Maybeshe senses that he doesn’t want her to. Maybe she feels she Betty still needstime before they can be friends again. Maybe she feels it’s been too much time.

As weeks pass, Archie and Betty continue their midnightdrives. Archie doesn’t know if Betty can tell, but he notices that she seemsbetter every time.

He notices the first time she gives him a genuine smile, twoweeks after Jughead’s funeral. And a week after that, he says something thatmakes her laugh joyously, the sound filling up the car and the holes in hisheart. He’s missed that sound.

He notices that she doesn’t seem so tired anymore, and thatshe cries less and less. She says she thinks her mom is doing better, that FPhas been there to help her through the aftermath of Hal. Archie can’t help butthink that, whether Betty knows it or not, he has been the same for her.

He notices that slowly, slowly, the light returns to hereyes. He notices that she doesn’t mention how much she misses Jughead as much,and that when she does mention him she doesn’t get choked up.

And he notices that the more time he spends with her, themore he wants to spend time with her. That he wants to hold her hand, and thatit gets harder and harder to leave her side to go to Veronica. He catcheshimself thinking about kissing her, and he feels incredibly guilty, because hefeels like he’s betraying his girlfriend and his dead friend, though he’s donenothing to act on it.

But he can’t stop himself from thinking about her, dreamingabout her. From imagining that maybe she feels the same. And he knows he’s waytoo far gone to ever come back from this.

Perhaps he’s being a complete fool, but he decides to endthings with Veronica on the off-chance Betty feels the same about him.

He meets her at Pop’s. Neutral territory. The last thing hewants to do is hurt her, but he feels like he’s hurting her either way.

She sees it coming. She doesn’t cry, but she can’t entirelyhide the hurt in her eyes.

“I’m not going to ask you why, Archie,” she says, carefully.“I know why.”

“You do?”

Veronica snorts. “Archie, you spend every second nightsleeping in Betty’s bed.”

“I never cheated on you,” Archie is quick to inform her.Veronica rolls her eyes.

“I know. I know you’d never do that.” She sighs. “I can’thelp but feel partly responsible.”

“No, Ronnie—” Archie shakes his head. “None of this is yourfault.”

“I know that too,” her eyes flash, and Archie flinches. “Butif I pretend I could have stopped it, then I won’t have to hate you.”

“You can hate me if you want to.”

“I don’t want to do that, Archie,” Veronica shakes her head.She stands up. “I really hope it works out for you,” she says as she leaves.Archie can’t tell if she’s being sincere or not.

By the time he gets home, all her stuff is gone.

Betty probably doesn’t need these late-night drives anymore.But she keeps coming anyway. Archie wonders if she looks forward to them theway he does.

It’s not strange for them to sometimes sit in comfortablesilence, but this time Archie finds it’s unbearable. He has so many things tosay but he can’t quite work out how to phrase them.

“I broke up with Veronica,” he says finally, breaking thesilence. Betty doesn’t say anything for what feels like eons.

“Why?”

“I guess—I guess my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I wasn’tin love with her anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Betty says. Archie nods, and they fall intosilence again.

Archie eventually turns the car around and they end up backin his driveway. He turns off the ignition and removes his seatbelt, and he andBetty just sit there for a moment. He turns to her.

“Betty,” he says. It comes out more hesitant than he intends.She turns her head to face him. He leans in slightly, pausing with his lips aninch from hers. Betty closes the gap and meets his lips with hers. The kiss onlylasts a second, but it gets Archie’s heart racing. Their faces remain closeenough that any small movement could cause their lips to brush again.

“I love you so much,” Archie whispers. Betty doesn’t sayanything, but he doesn’t need her to. He just needs her to know. It isn’t untilhe presses a soft kiss to her cheek that he realises she’s crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, brushing his thumb across her wetcheek to wipe her tears away.

“I want this so much, Arch,” she tells him. “But I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The last person I loved died,”she says. “I’m scared it could happen to you too. I’m scared that if we do thisthat I’m betraying his memory. I’m scared that I might not be able to give youas much of me as you need. I’m so broken, Arch. How could I ever expect you tolove me like this?”

“Hey, hey,” he whispers. He puts his hands on her face. “Lookat me. I do love you. And I’m notgoing anywhere. It doesn’t many how many bruises or battle scars you have. Iwant you as you are, as much as you can give me, as much as you want to giveme. And Jughead would want you to be happy, you know that.”

Betty nods.

“As for me dying, I can’t promise I won’t. But love isalways a risk, Betty. Could you ever be happy if we didn’t try?”

Betty shakes her head, and Archie kisses her again.

“Okay,” she says. She gives a watery laugh. “Okay. Let’s dothis.”

“Come on.” Archie opens the car door. “Let’s sleep in my bedtonight.”

#barchie #barchie fanfiction #fanfic #prompts filled #short oneshot #ratedg #canon divergence #angst #death #major character death #verarchie #blughead #falice #s2 #hurtcomfort #t:laying upon the dead with you #a:barchiefanfiction #a:elsiestubbs #a:keiraknighted

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cctaehyung · 6 years

Text

vii. secret garden

in his garden, everything has already happened.

the gardens in his heart have changed in so many ways over the years since his first visit. it was still bright and colourful, of course. the philia garden has gotten so many additions and the storge garden had gotten so much brighter and bigger than it originally was. in his past visits at those gardens, he would often walk with his father through storge. when he goes through his philia garden, he walks with the first two friends he has made in that december of 2016. it was always nice going to a garden with someone he loved, but there were times where he would go alone himself.

he’s never had a dream where he and yoongi would walk in the one garden dedicated to the both of them together. taehyung doesn’t think he could ever have the courage to ever talk to him about it because the idea of it would probably sound so silly to him. he had a conversation about it in a dream once with rikiya and it leads to ricky saying that he’ll tell him if- when they get married.

there were a lot of promises that were made for the future, but taehyung had never succeeded them because most of those promises involved yoongi. though taehyung’s body, mind, and soul were brought back in 2016, his heart was still in 2020. he was still grieving even if yoongi was alive now. his heart could accept the fact that his family and his friends were all in 2016 with him, but he couldn’t force his heart to believe that yoongi was alive as well. perhaps, if they dated again, it would be a different, pleasant feeling.

with the condition his heart was in, any person who has visited the garden would believe that the whole heart would have bad weather like it did after basil. though, to be honest, even if the weather was worse than it was usually, it didn’t stay like throughout the rest of the area but the agape. it was as if everything about him and his life went well and was going perfectly except for the fact that taehyung still couldn’t move on from witnessing yoongi’s death.

the forget-me-nots are in their original form. they were not growing, nor were they wilting away. in fact, if anything, they stayed the same as they always had since they bloomed. the first time he had seen them in that state, he felt such overwhelming joy that the moment he woke up from his dream, he called up to check on yoongi to tell him about how much he loved him and they spent a whole entire day together. now, when he looks at them, he feels as if they are just harsh reminders of his pathetic life holding onto a time that didn’t exist. he knew the deep meaning of the flowers, but he can’t get rid of the definition of complete loss when he sees them now.

when he enters the agape garden, he was unable to see its purple color. in fact, he could not see any sort of colour in the garden whatsoever. after the incident, every time he visits this place, there was no hint of colour or light anywhere there. he’s gotten used to it, as he was always used to black and white. he just wished it went back to the way it was before.

he sits in front of the flowers and examines them carefully, afraid to touch them in case they were to be damaged right away. it was obvious that taehyung was one person who was definitely not forgetful, but even if he tried to, he wouldn’t be able to forget the meaning of the small flowers: true love. he never really understood why that would be his flower until the one moment when he realized that yoongi was the one. at that sudden moment, everything in the world made sense and it felt as if pieces of the puzzle were put together to end any form of confusion.

memories with him play in his mind as he continues to stare, barely even noticing the small figure walking up to him. “ricky-ah…” the high, but soft voice calls out to him.

he looks behind himself to see the little fox stand behind him on the floor. he can’t see the red on him because everything looks gray, but he is able to recognize his friend. “rikiya… what do you want?”

“staying here won’t do you any good,” the little one says. “you can’t stay here. i know your heart and your mind both agree that they can’t completely move on from this, but it’s so gloomy over here. you should hang out in the other gardens where it’s much brighter.”

the statement makes taehyung feel a bit of discomfort. with awkwardness, he declines his offer. “i’d rather stay here, but thank you for the thought.”

“ricky, please. your father and nari agree with me too-”

“just,” the boy interrupts the other from speaking any more. “please leave me alone for some time to think.”

rikiya stands there in silence for only for a few seconds, perhaps thinking to himself on what to do. in the end, he sits next to taehyung’s left leg and looks up at the boy who was looking down at the flowers in front of him.

“these flowers are not that big,” rikiya comments.

“i know,” he responds, “but they are very important to me. despite its size, i see it as much bigger because of who they are for.”

“i know, it’s just… weird,” the fox says with a nervous chuckle. “i know you’re not a fan of big flowers because of the past, but i never understood your fascination for the smaller things… besides me, because i’m small and wonderful.”

taehyung doesn’t respond. he simply just looks out and sighs. it’s a sign of a plea, but rikiya doesn’t seem to notice it.

“he means a lot to you, huh?” rikiya asks. “i personally don’t think i will experience something like that, but it seems that min yoongi means a lot to you.”

taehyung nods. “almost the world, you can say.”

“almost… so he’s different from basil?”

“obviously,” he says, later moving his body a little so that he could properly face his friend, his friend doing the same. “i mean…. when i liked basil, it was… an unhealthy desire. an obsession. there was no love for anyone else other than him and only him to the point where it was hard to actually love myself even just a little. for yoongi, i loved- i still love him a lot, but i am able to love myself and other people as well. but in the end, he was still an important person in my life who i really care for and would do anything for. so, it hurt a lot to lose him. it still hurts.”

“ah…” rikiya replies, nodding his head. “well… like i said, i’ve never experienced it. but i want you to know that no matter what, i’m always here for you if you just want to rant.”

it’s a sign that rikiya doesn’t know what to say anymore to keep the conversation going, so he accepts it and gives a polite sign for rikiya to leave. “thanks. i’ll see you later.”

once left in silence, he moves his body back to how it was before, facing the flower once again. from the distance, it looks as if taehyung was sitting alone with nothing else but darkness and a field around him, but that wasn’t the case at all. it was as if this was the tiny portion of reality peeping in to this side of his heart.

he doesn’t want to cry. he’s already used up so many tears over something like this at this point, he doesn’t want to waste anymore. it’s not as if crying would do anything useful to him except make him feel even more miserable. he didn’t come back in time just to only make life worse for him again.

the sound of footsteps on the grass make taehyung look up. assuming who it could be, he speaks out to the person before turning his head. “rikiya, i thought we already had a-” he looks back to see no small fox plush, but rather a familiar human boy who was still shorter than him, “discussion.”

taehyung is greeted with a smile that makes him feel warm even when taehyung eventually sees nothing but a white coloured ceiling.

his excuse to his brothers was that he was stopping by to visit family. before he walks out the door, he hears danny warn him to not face the step-douche as if taehyung was planning to visit that house today. he wasn’t too off, but taehyung would never go to that house willingly even if his youngest brother and his only sister were there. though, to be fair, taehyung was technically meeting with family today. he just didn’t specify who.

after spending a good few minutes at the closest supermarket, he ended up with a random bouquet of flowers that looked the best and a random bag of chips that he would munch on when he would get home. his next trip was to a place that he would visit often alone, but he would visit with any other family members if they wanted to go along with him. this time he visits alone, but only because he wasn’t able to ask him something in his dream. taehyung thought it would be better to ask him now.

the moment he finds a parking spot near the graveyard, he walks out of his car and brings the bouquet with him. after he closes the door, he walks around to find the specific grave when he eventually spots it ahead of him. he has to thank his good memory to be able to remember where to go and where to look in order to find it, but that wasn’t important.

he always bought cheap bouquets. it’s better than bringing an expensive one that someone made with their heart and care and having it thrown away by the people who worked there. besides, this person knew taehyung’s love for him. flowers were just something nice to show his appreciation, but his heart says more than his actions ever do. after he places it on the grave plaque, he walks back a little and looks at it while he does the sign of the cross.

“father, son, holy spirit, amen,” he starts it off. usually when his mother was here with him, he’d have to do an “our father”, “hail mary”, “glory be”, and end it from there. but since she wasn’t here with him, he makes up a random prayer to talk to his father.

“hi dad… uh…” he thinks on what to say next, “i didn’t get to see you last night in the garden, so i thought it’d be cool to see you now and talk to you… now. is that okay?” that was a stupid question. of course it’s okay. “uh. i wanted to ask you about my mind, since you seem to know everything about me the most. do you think it’s in a good state? depression is obviously there, but do you think i have something else? something serious that i don’t know about yet? because i have speculations, but the thing is i’ve never met a professional psychologist and asked them myself. and uh… i don’t know. you were practically my best friend growing up, so did you notice anything then and do you notice anything now?”

“i feel… worried. because i feel aware, but i think of shit that’s so bad that if anyone knew about it, they’d probably want to stop talking to me. is that normal?” taehyung inquires. “can you… give me a sign? let me know if something is fucked. tell god to help out with that, too since he’s in charge of everything around here.” he hesitates. “just… i don’t even know what it could be, but i know something is wrong. just try to let me know what it could be? … amen.”

after doing the hand motion once again to end the prayer, he walks away from the grave only to later feel a vibration from his pocket. reaching for his phone, he looks over at the screen to see a text alert from the league.

(txt; league!) CARD NEEDED TO BE CAUGHT AROUND THE AREA: team nightshade required; experienced and special class may help. Please meet at the hideout for more details.

taehyung thinks it over for a little and he sighs before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading to his car, his next destination being the clamp cafe.

it’s not a difficult card, thank goodness. in fact, if anything, he was sure all of the male rookies could catch it on their own without any help. but he was fortunate enough to give it a few hits and wounds. but seeing it be completely obliterated was taehyung’s goal. he was desperate to be the one to finish the job, even if the rookies wanted to be the one to do it first. he knew gyu was going to be furious at him if he finished it himself, but he could really care less about what the man does. he always thought the old man was good at being a father and leader, but he wasn’t good at changing ricky’s mind.

he watches the naive heroes as they try their best to defeat it, struggling a little even after they heard the support of their leader. they’re pretty tough thanks to sunggyu. however, he was barely looking at their overall skill. in fact, if anything, he was just waiting for the moment where they all would collectively give up and go to him, their “lord and saviour” for help. but for now, he could always just go on instagram and check how his favorite celebrities are do-

“VINNY HELP!” a familiar voice screams out for him, immediately making him look up from the ground to see his youngest triplet struggle in one of the card’s tentacles, watching as his other brother run to him for aid with the brass knuckles in his hands. taehyung sighs with a look of disappointment. his brother’s basic knowledge still wasn’t surprising.

well, if one brother wasn’t going to save him because of his failure to think before he acts, taehyung was happy to be the one to save his poor brother from getting into a mess. already out with his weapons and his outfit, all he really needed to do was get the show on the road. he grabs both of his rifles with him and makes his way to the large card, making the other heroes stop from fighting it any more as he runs to it. one of the card’s eyes was already shot thanks to some random rookie hero on the team, and there was one tentacle already chopped off from sunggyu’s scythe. all that really needed to be taken care of was where its heart was and the tentacle danny was in.

thank goodness for the fact that these weapons were magical. he didn’t plan on using much if that were to happen to him, but in the end it wouldn’t matter since he wouldn’t ever be able to run out of them. with the rifle’s bayonet, he uses it to make a large cut on the card’s ankle. however, as he does it, he notices something strange about the ankle while the card roars. there was some sort of solid with a bit of a squishy texture in it. assuming what it could be, he looks at the rookies and points at it, mouthing a word that caught their attention. getting the generous hint, a random magical boy makes his way towards the familiar with a sword while ricky runs to his brother.

vinny widens his eyes at his brother for some reason as if he had just seen something incredible on his mediocre triplet. “ricky! you’re-!”

taehyung ignores it and interrupts him. “okay, vinny, assuming the heart is in the ankle, once the hero stabs it, the card might let go of danny. run to the shadow of the tentacle danny’s in and when the card lets go, he should fall into your arms. that way, it’ll look like you did all the work when it was actually just me. just the way you want it to go in your hero business.”

taeyong shows an insulted look at him. “what the hell?!”

“you’ll thank me later,” he replies before running off to sunggyu’s side to join the rest of the rookies, looking at how his plan goes into place. even if he shows a neutral facial expression, he prays to god that this goes well because this was all just assumption. he didn’t even know if everything would happen the way he said it would.

he searches for sunggyu’s hand and holds it tightly before he hears the other yelp once he touches it, letting the hand go as he does so.

“cheezus louisus, ricardo! your hand feels like a pan that just got out of the hot stove!” he shouts, jumping back from ricky before later having his jaw drop. “oh my god! you’re glowing!”

hearing the first statement, taehyung is confused but the second statement, he wasn’t sure if it was a fitting comment to say after his last one. “... i know i like good, but it’s kind of weird for you to say that after talking shit about my ha-”

“no! you’re literally glowing! and you’re hand is hot!”

taehyung smirks. “sunggyu, you have a wife-”

the sound of a camera shutter goes off at the same time the card screeches from being defeated, letting go of a screeching danny who stops when he eventually falls onto vinny, letting the older of the two land hard on the ground while the other uses his body as a cushion. the rest of the heroes watch as the beast turns into its actual paper card form, letting the boy who killed it hold it with a large smile on his face. taking his attention from the special hero away, sunggyu runs to the rookie and congratulates him.

taehyung’s confusion doesn’t last for long as he sees a hero around his age, daniel(? he thinks that’s his name), shows him his phone with the front camera showing the hero with his usual appearance with something different: his entire body was surrounded in solar energy and the strange thing was that he wasn’t even sunburnt. in fact, it felt as if the light wasn’t even touching him, despite being around him and having him in it.

“see! you’re really glowing!” he hears the rookie, amazement in his voice as taehyung stares at himself in awe.

“... what the flying fuck?!”

want to see the rest of his story from this point? take a trip: @tangerinewrites

#( * FORGET ME NOT SERIES )#&& eternity series #( * solo )#and with that i say adios! it was great being here.

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scripturient-manipulator · 7 years

Text

Native American Lakota Research

So I’m working on my trigger-laden story, and I love doing research, so I figured I’d share the parts I’ve saved with you guys! This is absolutely not the only research you should do if you need to; it’s just what I need. Anything in italics are my thoughts.

Mom: Ina Dad: Até

It’s gonna be real fuckin’ annoying to go up to Insert Special Characters every time I want to show their dad but that’s okay #firstworldwriterproblems

This tribe views death as an inevitable equalizer, something that happens to all living things despite their achievements on earth. The Lakota believe that the dead depart to a spirit world free of pain and suffering.

Okay so this link was some good shit right here

Typically, the Lakota bury their dead. Custom dictates that the tribe wait about a day and half before burial when a person dies at home, in hopes that the deceased might revive.

That’s fair, I mean the natural reaction to someone you love dying is wishing that they hadn’t, so it makes sense, plus I know ghosts are kinda an issue

Bodies are typically placed on a scaffold to encourage the spirit's journey into the sky. Burial practices vary and include traditional earth burial, air burial -- in which bodies are left in the open, a practice often used for warriors who have fallen in battle --, burial under mounds or rocks and even tree burial, in which the limbs of a tree stand in for a scaffold. These methods vary depending on the tribe, location and resources.

Oh nice, there’s a religion (Jainism, I think?) originating from Asia that does the air burial for everybody to offer sustenance to the earth and birds and everything.

Journey to the Spirit World

Much of the Lakota's beliefs about the spirit world manifest in their burial ceremonies. To help them on their journey to the spirit world -- a parallel plane of existence that can be reached by the living -- the Lakota take bundles of their belongings with them to the grave, including items such as weapons, pipes, tools and medicine. Mourners also place food and drink at the scaffold of the deceased and kill the departed's horse at this location, tying its tail to the scaffold.

Grief and Respect

Above all, the ceremonial beliefs and funeral customs of the Lakota are meant to show respect and reverence for those who have passed; in a mourning process that may last up to a year, this respect is often expressed through grief. Mourners express grief for the departed by singing, crying, wailing and running pegs through their limbs, cutting their hair or even -- in the case of female Lakota -- cutting off a part of their little fingers. To symbolize their grief for young children who have passed, the Lakota practice ritual crying and wound their own arms and legs.

I’m so happy, this is all perfect, this is exactly what I need. Should I do the whole wounding their arms and legs in term of Chelsea’s father? It’s been seven months for them and I also don’t wanna give anyone’s brain more fuel to prompt a trigger. I’ll think about it.

Like the belief systems of many indigenous people groups, the Lakota embrace the notion of a balanced universe and see death as a sacred and natural part of the life cycle. In fact, David recalled having attended dozens of funerals during his childhood and teen years, and saw to it that his own children attended funerals-not only for family members but for neighbors and friends, as well.

In keeping with Lakota custom, David's wake was an around-the-clock event with some members of the family or community present throughout the period of three days. Friends of David's took turns playing a funeral drum and chanting during the wake, and a traditional star quilt hung behind the open casket. Inside the community center where David's wake was held, his casket was placed inside a large tipi, in the belief that his spirit would commune with ancestors who would guide him to the spirit world.

So this is from an article about a specific Lakota man (David) who died and how his family followed traditions and customs in looking after him. I relish case studies in psychology so this is just delightful.

During David's funeral, several people shared memories of the ways his life had positively impacted the world, calling on the Lakota values of generosity, wisdom, fortitude (bravery) and kinship. Robert Davis, a middle school social studies teacher recalled David's wisdom as he told of visits to his classrooms and how students sat spellbound as they learned from this friend who had grown up on the reservation. "How was I to know that Sioux was a derogatory name?" Robert asked to the knowing laughter of many of the mourners. "But David had such a gentle way; he just quietly taught me the terms that better defined his tribal heritage. My kids and I all learned something important that day about using care when using 'labels.'"

Shit, I didn’t know that either. Since they’re using Lakota so much and there wasn’t any expansion on the terms I’m gonna go with Lakota being safe

At all times a surviving family member is with the body and available to visit with those who attend the wake. The casket is flanked on either side by a table filled with flowers and memorabilia of the deceased, and star quilts are hung on the wall behind the casket. All of these items will be given away. This is a time of open sharing, mourning, respect, and compassion. It is not uncommon to see people from all walks of life attend a Lakota wake. People take time off from work, travel long distances, even get a pass to leave jail for this sacred event. The concept of family is far reaching in this culture.

Those who attend the wake are welcome to add their own mementos to the casket as a parting gift to the deceased. Joan wryly commented that during a recent funeral home tour during her seminary education, the funeral director displayed a casket supplied with ‘secret’ pockets that could be filled with small mementos. She thought, “ This is nothing new, we’ve been doing this for years!” Another parishioner told me of witnessing this tradition as he attended a Lakota wake saying, “ My gosh, people kept putting things on top of the dead body that I thought we wouldn’t be able to see it finally.” Such an outpouring of presence and memorabilia frames the Lakota wake.

Oh I love the mementos thing, I want that at my funeral, fuck I’m tearing up

Buffalo meat has more protein and less fat than beef. It also has less cholesterol, yet a mere four ounces provides more protein than a half a dozen eggs. Wasna, because of the protein it contains, can raise a person’s iron level within 15 minutes. Today’s Lakota believe that their ancestors did not suffer from diabetes, heart disease, or cancer due to the healing powers of Wasna.

The Lakota diet was high in protein and often the tribe either had much food to eat, such as after they killed a buffalo, or very little. One of the traditional Indian food recipes that the Lakota have passed through the generations was Wasna. Wasna is a Lakota word with the "wa" meaning "anything" and the "sna" meaning ground up, although non-Lakota people refer to it as pemmican. This dish consisted of dried buffalo, dried berries, and fat or bone marrow. The Lakota’s would grind the ingredients together with a pounding stone. Wasna was a very good source of protein and the Lakota valued this traditional recipe not only as a food, but also as a healing instrument. Therefore, Wasna is often seen as a sacred food and was often used in ceremonies and rituals.

Another of the Indian food recipes that is a favorite is Lakota plum cakes. This recipe included dark raisins, purple plums, toasted hazelnuts, butter, flour, baking soda, cloves, honey, and maple syrup.

Okay, sweet. The food is only gonna show up for like five seconds because they’re having breakfast, but Wasna sounds perfect. Lakota plum cakes sound yummy too. But these seem like harried yet “responsible” parents, and they hold with plenty of traditions so I don’t think they would give their kids something that might be a dessert. I can’t tell, it doesn’t quite seem it even though the word cake throws me off. But best not to chance it; Wasna gets eaten not just during ceremonies and rituals by the looks of it.

The Lakota used honey and maple syrup as sweeteners

Nice, it’s always good to have something else to dribble on the readers’ senses

http://www.elexion.com/lakota/iyapi/words2.html

http://peopleof.oureverydaylife.com/lakota-burial-ceremony-beliefs-3711.html

http://www.selectedfuneralhomes.org/A-Lakota-Family-Remembers-199

^^^^^^^^This was so fascinating^^^^^^^^

http://www.indiana.edu/~famlygrf/culture/minton.html

http://indians.org/articles/indian-food-recipes.html

http://peopleof.oureverydaylife.com/did-lakota-indians-eat-7581.html

#writing #writeblr #writblr #writeblr research #research #Lakota #Native American #diversity #writing research #Lakota tribe

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