step one: allow yourself some semblance of a smile. your grief is not an iron cage and you are not trapped. you are allowed to mourn your own innocence, even if you barely remember how it felt.
step two: hold his hand. you want to, even if you won’t admit it outloud. you want to take him and keep him so close to your chest that the world never has another chance to lash out, but if it did you’d be stood like a shield, like a guardian angel even the devil would avoid. it’s okay. it’s okay. hold his hand.
step three: you don’t have to say the words for them to be true; at this point the “i love you"s are as natural as breathing, noiseless and soft. when you look at the stars you see the same light you find in his eyes everyday.
step four: give yourself a chance to heal. it might take a while. it might take years. your past is a minefield no one taught you to navigate before now, but you are strong and you are loved and that’s enough (it has to be enough).
step five: you gave him a key, a home, a reason to wake up with a smile and he gave you a reason to look forward to what was once a grey-scale future, now bathed in a shade of blue even the ocean would envy.
I know you feel that you’ve wasted a lot of your youth on people and things that today don’t hold any real significance in your life.
You fought against the world for those you loved and in the end there still was not enough room for them. So they went on with their lives and in your own ways, you did too.
You fell in love at fourteen and convinced yourself that you were placed on this earth to love him above all else.
And so you did.
By the time it was over, you had tied too much of your existence to his and the days felt longer without him.
This was the first war you fought with the world.
At sixteen you fell in love again with a boy who sincerely and genuinely loved you.
Even then it wasnt enough for you to stay.
And for the first time the heartbreak wasn’t yours.
It doesn’t make you selfish to have chosen yourself over love. over him.
and so at sixteen you learned about sacrifice.
know that even in a world where you don’t end up together, it will always be worth something.
I know you lost a lot of people along the way and your life continuously feels emptier without them but think of all the room left for hope and change.
because better things are coming even those things you’ve always thought yourself undeserving of.
someone loved you then.
someone loves you now, someone always will.
don’t you ever let yourself forget it.
you’re going to fall in love again sometime in the near future.
you’ll finish college and have children.
I know you worry that you don’t have what it takes but nobody ever thinks they do.
I know right now the people who should be closest to you keep growing further away and I know it hurts more than you’re willing to admit but someday you will understand that some people are better loved from afar.
your parents aren’t better loved from afar and regardless of what you think they will always love you even if they forget to tell you sometimes.
at eighteen the world is a place you aren’t sure you want to live in but you will survive. you will win all of the battles you are fighting someday. and all things, like a work of magic, will fall into place. You’ve just got to believe in it.
i know it’s hard to accept compliments as anything other than lies. but when somebody blurts, “you’re beautiful,” take a breath. think of your dog, panting happily and covered in mud. think of your mother in her bathrobe with her hair in tinfoil while the dye sets. think of your best friend with her face streaked with tears and makeup. think of your little brother when he was sick and his face was a red puffy mess. think of how, even then, your heart swelled up with love of them. this is i think where compliments come from: when they look at you, no matter what, they see somebody beautiful, not some body, beautiful.
This was requested. It was very enjoyable to write, and I’m happy I did. I lost myself a little bit, but I think I ended it pretty well. Hope you like it.
Word count: 1637 Lines: 124 Paragraphs: 14
like, could you do a Harry imagine where he was dating a girl and she broke up
with him (for whatever reason you’d like) and you’re there for him. And it slowly
progresses into him having feelings for you since he was in such a vulnerable
state. Like a week or something after they broke up, you’re hanging with him
and you do something you always do, like a little thing, and he just realized
how cute it is. And he’s like “wtf. She always does that” then boom! He’s got
You were always there for him. Why wouldn’t you be, you were best friends after all. You’d met him at a quaint little bookshop that was down the street from your apartment. You had never gone in until that day, and you swear it was the best day of your life. Struggling to reach that top shelf you nearly toppled over, that is until he steadied you. Yes yes, it happened like all those cliché movie scenes, that are almost in every romantic comedy you’ve ever seen. Extending his long arm out, he swiped the book you were going for and placed it into your hands. From that day on, a beautiful friendship grew. Every day you’re thankful that even on your tippy-toes you couldn’t reach that book.
It has been a lovely 2 years ever since the bookshop and you were closer than ever. He made you feel special. He let you see him at his worst, which in your eyes he was still magnificent, but you’d never tell. He’d walk around your apartment as if he lived there himself. He practically did, he was always there. What used to be the spare bedroom is now a spare Harry room. When he didn’t want to go all the way back to his place, he’d crash at yours. He’d always repay you (even though you told him time and time again, friends let friends sleep over) by making you breakfast, buying you another book for your already-too-full library, taking you to a movie, or just simply paying for a weeks’ worth of college tuition.
God, you hated him for that. You had a great job, it isn’t like you can’t afford it yourself. But of course, he’d always rebuttal with “Love, now yeh can go to that bookshop and buy yeh’self some more. Or yeh been talkin’ about gettin’ that red dress yeh saw the other day”. He would use books as an excuse, he knows you can’t resist. Life was great. You couldn’t be happier. At least that’s what you thought, everyone else thought differently. Harry was dating this girl, Alex. Sure, you’ve always had a secret little crush on him, but you kept it very well hidden. It isn’t that you didn’t want to tell him or date him, it’s just that- it’s his career. You’ve seen what it does to relationships. You know very well, that if you two broke up, there wouldn’t be a friendship anymore.
You couldn’t fathom having a life without him in it, so you dared not to go and muck it up with sharing your feelings with him. Whatever, enough back story. Today was Saturday, which meant is was a day off for you and you could be with the coolest person you know, Harry. You never told him you thought he was cool, he’d go be a dork and ruin it by pretending to have a big ego. You two decided that tonight would just be a relaxing night it. Watch a few movies, eat a nice home cooked meal, maybe go for a walk in the park down the road. He always loved seeing who could jump the farthest from the swings and obviously, his long gangly legs beat you.
Turning on the television, you scrolled through which movie you wanted to see first. Settling on ‘The Boy’, you stroll into the kitchen to prepare dinner, that is until your front door shoots open and in comes a discombobulated Harry. Eyeing his stature, you realize something is bothering him. “Hey, what’s the matter? Finally, figure out that those skinny jeans and boots make you look like a cowboy?” you sang while laughing, thinking if you could lighten his mood, he’d feel a little better. Alas, it was a shot in the dark that failed, “It’s Alex. She just- she just dumped me. Like that. Went on about how we could never have a real go at it. M’not fully into the relationship. All I ever did was put effort’to this. How is that not good enough?”.
You put the knife you were holding back onto the counter, knowing if you held it any longer you’d most likely go out, find her and give her a little stab for hurting your best friend like this. “How fucking dare she? All you did was care for her. That trollop had the audacity to say those things to you? I have a right mind to go cut her tires. I’m sorry she broke up with you, and I want to be sentimental and let you cry, but I can’t. If she wants to go and break up with the best guy she’ll ever find, then that’s her loss. You don’t need her. I know how much you cared for her, and I know how much it hurts, but she doesn’t deserve to have you crying over her. She will wake up one day and remember how precious you are, and all she’ll feel is sorrow knowing that her life will never feel complete without you”.
A small smile grew on his face, and you knew you did well. If he felt, even the slightest bit better, you were glad. “Now, get your booty to the couch and hit play. I hope you’ve gone to the bathroom because I will not appreciate you getting so scared you let go on my couch. I’m making pasta, and it should be done in a half hour”. You watch as he knocks off his shoes and plummets into the couch, hitting the play button on the remote, “Are yeh joinin’ me, or m’ I watching this alone?”. Rolling your eyes, you sauntered over to the living room, plopping down next to him. Normally it’d be you leaning against him, but instead, you embrace him and guide him toward your shoulder rubbing concentric circles every now and then. It wasn’t the best of nights, but you got him to loosen up a bit. He’d jerk up when he got scared, “M’not scared. It’s just an act for you.” He’d laugh when you did, “2 years later and that laugh still gets me.” He’d start yelling at the TV because someone did something stupid, “I don’t understand! Why do people think this is game! There is a murderer on the loose, and they want ta’ just run about.”
After the crazy night that happened, neither you or he wanted him to go home. You took his hand and walked his sleepy self, upstairs into his room. Once you’ve dressed properly for bed, you stayed up for another hour or so, just absentmindedly thinking. Little did you know he was doing the same thing.
It’s been a month and he seems just fine. He goes about his days like they were any other. He’d sleep over at your house as he always does, and he falls into the same pattern as before. It was early one morning and you both took the opportunity to go to the park before it got crowded with kids. Digging your toes into the sand, you slowly swung back and forth, with him doing the same.
Harry was telling you about some absurd situation he was in the other day, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You found it so funny that you even snorted, which in counter made you laugh even more. He had on such a lopsided grin, revealing half of a dimple, while he was just marveling at you. Your laugh had such an infliction on him, and he was perplexed by it. Surely this wasn’t the first time you’ve snorted. It’s an occurrence that happens quite often when you find something to be overly funny. He was still smiling, but now he finds himself doing it for another reason.
The way your nose would scrunch up when you laughed. How you’d always seem to get a stray hair to fall into your face, just so you could tuck it behind your ear. How you’d get so attached to your books, as if they were treasure, and you would get so caught up in the story, you wouldn’t notice him making stupid faces at you. How you give the world to him but never expect it in return. The way your eyebrows come together when you’ve caught him in a lie about how he’s feeling. The way you always knew when he was, in fact, telling a lie. How you were always there for him when he needed someone the most, and never complained. Those 4am phone calls when he was away and he was missing your voice. He never noticed until now, how he never called Alex, but he always rang you. You were the first thought in his mind. You were the one he was missing the most. When he’d have an argument with her, he would go straight to you, and you’d drop whatever it was that you were doing. You would put all your attention on him. One time you even sat on the couch with him, shampoo still dripping from your hair, just because he needed to talk about his day.
He never ran to Alex. Sure, he cared for her very deeply, but he was never truly in the relationship with her because his heart was elsewhere. His heart was on your couch, sitting next to you, listening to you ramble on about school that day. How your professors were giving you an immensely hard time. Him always wanting to go down there and tell them to lay off, but never doing so because you always reassured him you were ok. He was only in that relationship because he thought it was right, but he already had someone. Someone who was always there for him.
Just your reminder that I do NOT look buff 24/7, I eat more than I need to, I have rolls, I have blemishes, I don’t do as much cardio as I should, I eat ice cream whenever I want, I go out to dinner with friends, I don’t lift every single day, my sleep schedule isn’t perfect, I get bloated, I have stretch marks, I AM HUMAN!
I am a glorious, strong, vivacious woman with a body who carries her through so much.
Never compare yourself to someone’s best moments, because everyone has candid photos of themselves they don’t post. Everyone has bad days. Social media is a place where people put their best selves forward, and you need to realize that you are not an image on the screen.
4 stages of reading Jem’s sickbed scene in Clockwork Princess:
Will: “Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whiter thou goest, I will go.”
Jem: “You cannot go where I am going! Nor would I want you to!”
Will: “Neither can I walk away and leave you to die!”
Jem: “Do you think I don’t know that if you don’t go after her no one else will? Do you think it doesn’t kill me that I cannot go, or at least go with you?”
Jem: “Will, for all these years I have tried to give you what you could not give yourself.”
Will: “And what is that?”
Jem: “Faith, that you were better than you thought you were. Forgiveness, that you need not always punish yourself. I always loved you, Will, whatever you did. And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done beating.”
Will: No, no, no. I will not be those things. Your eyes will see, your hands will feel, your heart will continue to beat.”
Title: That’s My Girl (Negan Part 9) Pairing: Reader/Negan, Reader/Daryl Summary: Reader volunteers to go into Negan’s compound willingly to get inside information. Eventual Negan smut. Implied feelings between Reader and Daryl. Words: 4,971 Warnings: Language, some smut
Author’s Notes: I have decided I am going to end this story two different ways. I am going to first continue with the storyline I had planned for. But, I also want to keep another ending going along with the show storyline (like what I did with my SPN fic Persephone). Part of this update will be in the alternative ending. I will start working on that during the mid season break.
How did we get so lucky to be the people in this fandom right now with people like Jared Padalecki? How were we so fortunate to land in a fandom where the actors use their fame to expose themselves and their struggles to fans and others in order to draw people closer, to encourage them to love themselves first in order to live well and love others?
Some celebrities use their considerable wealth or their faces or their time to uplift charities and bring attention to important issues, and that’s amazing… but there’s something so strong and encouraging and heart-breaking and beautiful about this huge, formidable man showing that it’s okay to start from a place where you have trouble loving yourself and it’s okay to be fighting and flawed and fearful. Everyone in the world deals with those things, and it’s not weakness to reveal our ongoing battles to others–it’s immeasurable strength, and there are people fighting the same battles the world over.
I’m so freaking thankful for Jared Padalecki. That is all.
He thought it was time, to show y/n how much he loves her. Michael bought a diamond ring, a replica of her grandmothers wedding ring you always loved. Michael growing old with her, sharing more memories of fights and having little ones running around the house. He sees it happening, and he was going to make it reality.
Michael stood at the front door of y/n’s parents house. Y/n thinks that Michael was hanging with Luke. He was holding the ring admiring how stunning it showed. White platinum shanks, side studded stones, with cushion two carrot diamond. It would remind y/n of her grandmother when she sees it.
He closed the black velvet box, shoving it back in his pocket. Taking a deep breathe, he rang the door bell. A few seconds later, y/n’s dad appeared.
“It’s you.” he said unassuming.
“Yes, can I come in.” he asked.
He rolled his, opening the door wider for access. ms. y/l/n was in the kitchen making dinner. “Who was at the door-” she stopped looking at Michael.
“What did you do to y/n.” mr. y/l/n angered, already jumping to conclusions.
“Nothing-sir, I just wanted to ask you guys a question.” his nervousness took over, making him stutter.
Both mr and mrs. y/l/n gave Michael questionable looks. “What?”
“I’m-going to ask y/n to marry me.” he pulled out the ring showing them, mrs. y/l/n knew it was her mothers. They were both astounded.
“No. Your not right for her.” he said. Michael stood there, shocked. He didnt know her parents hate him that bad. He did nothing wrong to y/n or her parents. But they didnt like the idea of y/n dating a guy with tattoos, piercings, obnoxious hair and his clothes. Y/n’s mom thought she would find someone better after Micheal; over the years though, they were still together.
“What do you mean! I love her, I want to spend my life with her!” he augured. He was done pretending to be nice to them, he was going to propose whether or not they liked it. Before mr. y/l/n could say something, Michael left out the door making sure to slam it.
Michael spent weeks figuring out how he would proposes to y/n. Where to take her, how he would do it. He wanted everything to be perfect, like she was living in a fairy tale.
And he got the perfect way.
Your POV | second person |
You got a text from Michael saying to wear something nice when he comes home, which was less than an hour. You figured it was another date night he always takes you out on. So you wore your slime mahogany dress that went down just above your knees that Michael got you for your birthday. You winged out your eyeliner more, flat iron your hair to make bouncy curls, and wore red lip stick that he loves so much.
“Hey I’m-woah.” Michael paused, you were fixing up your hair a bit more when he came in. He licked his lips, walking up to you.
“That dress does thing to me babe.” he whispered in your ear. You slowly ran your hands down his chest, just above his waist then back up.
“Thanks.” you giggled in response.
His hands wrapped around your waist tightly pulling him closer to you, “I have something to show you so lets get going.” he smiled kissing your forehead, although you didnt quiet get what he meant.
The car ride was a comfortable silence to Nickle back silently playing , his hand on yours, as you looked out the window. The only light showing was the reflection of the moon and stars. Michael took they wrong turn going to the city.
“You just missed-”
“I know.” he smiled. He held your hand tight, still focusing on the road. You were utterly confused, just go with the flow you thought.
After about ten more minutes of driving, you ended up in on a mountain, well more like a cliff over looking the city. Lights were lay on the ground in beautiful arrangements with a blanket near the edge.
“Wow, this-” you were speechless. It was something out of the movies. Michael grabbed your hand leading you to the blanket then you both lay down, taking in the scenery.
“Is this what you had to show me” you said, it was super unlikely for Mikey to do something big, it took you by surprise.
“Uh-not really.” he stuttered, Michael was becoming nervous, you could tell. He was constantly wiping his hands on his pants, and he was shaking a bit.
“Mikey, are you alright.” you concerned. You placed your hand on his shoulder giving him a worry look.
“Uh-okay.” he took a deep breathe, pulling out the box.
“Y/n, I-uh-you make me feel something, and I dont know what it is, but I guess people call it love. And I never thought I would ever experience it, because those only happen in movies. But you make my heart explode when ever I see you, you make me feel like I matter, and the fights we get into, I look back on and learn from them, because I never want to loose you and we more have more fights, and just know that I will never leave. I’m hear to stay. I want us to dance on our wedding day and have kids running around our house making us go crazy. I know you’re the only one I want to share the rest of my life with, and I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. So y/n y/l/n, will you marry me.”
At that point, you were in tears, speechless. He opened the black box revealing the ring and as soon as you saw it, memories came back. You and your grandmother always spending time together having innocent fun, telling her how much you loved her ring even when you were a little girl you loved it. You always wanted it for yourself. Now, Michael made both of your dreams into reality. You covered you mouth nodding yes, he reached out for your hand slipping the ring on your finger. You attacked Michael jumping on top of him, kissing him hard.
“God I love you so much.” you smiled widely.
“I love you more.”
“I have to tell my parents! They will be so excited.” you cheered.
Michael knew how they would react for not listening, which would make them hate Michael more. But he didnt care, all he needed was his fiancee to be happy. Maybe they would change their mind if they knew how happy y/n is.
Anonymous said: Can I have #2 with Sebastian please? (“Do you want me to leave?”)
can you do a bucky x reader? maybe where the reader is a very bubbly person who loves to laugh and stuff, and moves in across bucky’s apartment, and she always listens loudly to music (blink 182n green day), and loves action/fantasy movies (she plays them very loudly too) and bucky is always so annoyed, until one day he has enough and goes over expecting to see a young boy, but it’s just the reader who is like heavily breathing saying “hey! what do you want?” with a smile and he just goes “so u like punk music?” and is all flustered because also the reader is in just a big shirt
This was the fifth goddamn day in a row and Bucky was fuming. You were in the apartment across from his and ever since monday, all you’d been doing was playing music really loudly. After the third day he’d gone as far as to research the lyrics to the songs, and he came to find that the music was mostly punk. That also led him to believe that you were a dude.
He’d always told himself not to get involved with people, he was on the run after all. But you were just being so goddamn annoying.
“I’ll just politely ask him to turn it down,” he told himself, looking into the dirty mirror that was on the wall of his studio apartment when he moved in. “Then I’ll return to my apartment.” He sent himself a determined look before inhaling a deep breath.
The walk to your apartment was short, he knocked on the door and waited patiently for you to get to the door. Bucky wasn’t sure what you’d look like, he expected you to be a young looking man, probably with dyed black hair and skinny jeans. That’s what he’d seen all the ‘punk rockers’ looking like when he’d done his research.
When you finally opened the door and revealed yourself to him, you were the complete opposite of the image his imagination had conjured up. You were mature looking, he presumed you were somewhere around his age. And on your body all you wore was a large t-shirt. “Hello,” your leeful personality shone through your over-zealous tone. “How can I help you?”
Bucky was trying his hardest not to let his eyes stray down to your long legs. His old self may not have been as chivalrous as Captain America, that didn’t mean though that he wasn’t a gentlemen and so he was determined to keep his eyes on your face. The fact that you had him so bewildered seemed to be affecting his speech and before he knew what he was saying, the question, “so you like punk music,” had escaped his lips. Bucky was confused, this wasn’t what he’d intended to do.
You smiled widely at his question, “I love it.”
As soon as you opened the door you recognised him as the extremely attractive neighbour you loved to admire. Now, you always prided yourself on your bubbly personality, but with Bucky in your presence you find yourself with uncontainable happiness.
It was by this point you had to admit it to yourself, you were crushing so hard on him.
You leant against the door and tilted your head to the side, visibly checking him out. “You look strong, can I borrow your muscles for a second?”
He raised an eyebrow in question to your request, but he still followed you into the apartment as you began to walk in. This was lucky’s first times seeing the inside of your apartment and it was incredibly clean, in fact, the only mess he could see was the pile of cleaning supplies in the corner of your front room.
“I’ve been doing spring cleaning all week, hence the music being on, I hope I didn’t bother you with it.” You moved to stand by your couch and leant over it. It was frustrating for Bucky because you had no idea how arousing you were just in that t-shirt.
He shook his head, “not at all,” he lied. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was even able to say more to you, every word that left his mouth felt heavy and messy.
“Great!” You clapped your hands together and then proceeded to point towards the other side of the couch. “Could you help me move this couch to the other wall?”
Bucky was acting almost shy. He moved to the other side of the couch and he lifted it up with ease. You took a bit longer to raise it up and after three minutes you had the couch settled. You fell on top of it and closed your eyes, feeling quite tired and out of breath, even though Bucky looked just fine.
“So,” he couched, interrupting your moment of relaxation, “do you want me to leave?”
Your eyes widened and you sat up straighter, “not at all, do you want to leave/” Though you weren’t outright saying ‘yo, I have feelings for you and would like for you to consider forming a stronger - and more meaningful - relationship with me’, at the same time you were still being upfront and not even attempting to keep your feelings a secret. “I could make tea…”
A smile grew on his face, making his attractive features even more poignant. “Tea would be great.”
“Wonderful,” you bounced back up onto your feet, acting like you hadn’t just been exhausted from moving the couch. He liked that about you though, your jolly behaviour was refreshing considering he’d spent years being emotionless and being surrounded by emotionless people. “I was just about to pick a movie to watch as well, so feel free to go pick one.”
You pointed over at a shelf which was half filled with books and then half filled with DVD’s, because all of the DVD’s were on the last three shelves he had to crouch down to analyse them. Behind the counter of your kitchen you couldn’t help but watch him and wonder if he was impressed by the fact that you’d spent one entire day alphabetising everything. He didn’t even seem to notice. Bucky felt a little lost looking at them, as he had no idea what the movies were about as none of them were from the last time he watched a movie.
Not that Bucky really minded what movie they ended up watching, in his mind he was just excited to spend time with you. You intrigued him.
1. I hope you grow up happy. I hope you spend your childhood, teenage, and adult years smiling. I would rather you spend your nights going out and partying with friends than staying locked up in your room, hating yourself just as I did. Because there is nothing more dangerous in the world that could possibly amount to the emotional pain dark rooms and thoughts can render. Because those things “just in your head” can kill you too.
2. I need you to always love yourself. Let me tell you now that you are a beautiful soul and nothing or nobody can change that about you. Do not let people poison your mind with silly words and do not let anyone label you as anything less than perfect. No matter what you do, no matter what you say, there is absolutely nothing in this world that will make me love you less. Just as there is no reason to love yourself any less.
3. If school is stressing you out, take some personal days off. Your mental health and happiness comes before anything else. I know how tough it can be to get out of bed, let alone live. So if you need to, sleep. I will crawl into bed with you and hold you until all those bad thoughts go away. I will not make you get up and I will understand.
4. Talk. If not to me, talk to anyone. I know how hard it may be to tell anyone your problems. So, grab a journal and take it everywhere you go. I will not ask to read it. Call up your friends and spend all night pouring your heart out. I will not listen outside your door. Do not keep those feelings pent up. I spent my nights talking to a keyboard and phone screen because my heart was screaming at me, telling me no one cared how I felt. Someone will care for you. I will care for you.
5. That boy or girl might not text back and that’s okay. Forget them and forget the one-sided, half-assed conversations with them. You deserve so much better than them. I can promise you this: One day you’re gonna find someone who is going to love you for you. Someone who will always be there for you when you’re sad, mad, happy, etc. Someone who will fill those holes in your heart and someone who will make flowers grow in the saddest parts of your body. I promise.
6. Lastly, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Never doubt that. Never question that. Never forget that. I will always love you unconditionally.
“Faith,” said Jem. “That you were better than you thought you were. Forgiveness, that you need not always punish yourself. I always loved you, Will, whatever you did. And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done with beating.”
“No,” said Will wildly. “No, no, no. I will not be those things. Your eyes will see, your hands will feel, your heart will continue to beat.”
“But if not, Will-”
“If I could tear myself in half, I would-that half of me might remain with you and half follow Tessa-”
“Half of you would be no good to either of us,” said Jem. “There is no other I could trust to go after her, no other who would give of his own life, as I would, to save hers. I would have asked you to undertake this mission even if I had not known your feelings, but being certain that you love her as I do- Will, I trust you above all, and believe in you above all, knowing that as always your heart is twinned with mine in this matter. Wo men shi jie bai xiong di-we are more than brothers, Will. Undertake this journey, and you undertake it not for yourself alone but for both of us.”
“I cannot leave you to face death alone,” Will whispered, but he knew he was beaten; the sands of his will had run out.
Jem touched the parabatai rune on his shoulder, through the thin material of his nightshirt. “I am not alone,” he said. “Wherever we are, we are as one.”
Day 5: Favourite relationship » Jem Carstairs and Will Herondale
“Take my hands, Will.” Numbly Will closed his hands around Jem’s. He imagined he could feel a flicker of pain in the parabatai rune on his chest, as if it knew what he did not and was warning him of coming pain, a pain so great he did not imagine he could bear it and live. Jem is my great sin, he had told Magnus, and this, now, was the punishment for it. He had thought losing Tessa was his penance; he had not thought of how it would be when he had lost both of them. “Will,” Jem said. “For all these years I have tried to give you what you could not give yourself.” Will’s hands tightened on Jem’s, which were as thin as a bundle of twigs. “And what is that?” “Faith,” said Jem. “That you were better than you thought you were. Forgiveness, that you need not always punish yourself. I always loved you, Will, whatever you did. And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done with beating.” “No,” said Will wildly. “No, no, no. I will not be those things. Your eyes will see, your hands will feel, your heart will continue to beat.” “But if not, Will—” “If I could tear myself in half, I would—that half of me might remain with you and half follow Tessa —” “Half of you would be no good to either of us,” said Jem. “There is no other I could trust to go after her, no other who would give of his own life, as I would, to save hers. I would have asked you toundertake this mission even if I had not known your feelings, but being certain that you love her as I do— Will, I trust you above all, and believe in you above all, knowing that as always your heart is twinned with mine in this matter. Wo men shi jie bai xiong di—we are more than brothers, Will. Undertake this journey, and you undertake it not for yourself alone but for both of us.” “I cannot leave you to face death alone,” Will whispered, but he knew he was beaten; the sands of his will had run out. Jem touched the parabatai rune on his shoulder, through the thin material of his nightshirt. “I am not alone,” he said. “Wherever we are, we are as one.” Will rose slowly to his feet. He could not believe he was doing what he was doing, but it was clear that he was, as clear as the silver rim around the black of Jem’s eyes. “If there is a life after this one,” he said, “let me meet you in it, James Carstairs.” “There will be other lives.” Jem held his hand out, and for a moment they clasped hands, as they had done during their parabatai ritual, reaching across twin rings of fire to interlace their fingers with each other. “The world is a wheel,” he said. “When we rise or fall, we do it together.” Will tightened his grip on Jem’s hand. “Well, then,” he said, through a tight throat, “since you say there will be another life for me, let us both pray I do not make as colossal a mess of it as I have this one.” Jem smiled at him, that smile that had always, even on Will’s blackest days, eased his mind. “I think there is hope for you yet, Will Herondale.” “I will try to learn how to have it, without you to show me.”