welcome one and all to this merry affair!
this post is to hereby invite writers to a little game commencing December 1st - rules to follow - till the eve of Christmas itself, the 24th
now you may be asking, what is this game and what are the rules? well, dear writer, the purpose of the game is simple - for writemas, all you have to do is pick a prompt from a given list and compose something with it, prompts could be a word, a trope, a place, a feeling, anything at all, it all depends on the day
and as for the rules, well, this author sincerely hopes they are as equally simple to follow: if you accept the challenge, gift the community a glimpse of your work and share your responses, share the game with friends, family, anybody you'd like, that's it, utilise the prompt from the challenge, share your work, and tag me in your responses!
and now for the important part: how is the game going to work?
each day, starting December 1st, i will post the writemas challenge containing the prompt
the game is open to all, and if you join late, no problem! just embrace the writery-christmas spirit and play along!
bonus part (completely optional, but lovely if you choose to do it) - alongside your challenge entries, make sure to find a blog on writeblr, a writer you admire or one you've only just found, and pay them a compliment!
and since this post is an invitation to everyone out there on writeblr, in order to participate and be notified of the challenge posts when they go live, all you have to do is interact with this post and you're on the tag list!
any questions, let me know, and happy writing!
~ A Girl and Her Quill
(adding my tag list to ensure at least some folks see this, no pressure to interact!)
ficmas req: reader who is dealing with seasonal depression, and can’t find the motivation to get out of bed so Kate cheers her up with some christmas decorations and a nice breakfast? ❤️🩹 [girlfriend goals]
[when it gets cold, i’ll be yours - k.b]
summary: when your mind doesn’t want to give you a rest in time for the holidays, your girlfriend Kate is there to make it easier for you
pairing: kate bishop x fem!reader
warnings: comfort with a side order of fluff; R in a depressive episode, one mention of R skipping meals, some crying, weird switch in perspectives halfway through, Kate being the attentive teddy bear partner we all need
word count: 1.4k
[a/n: this was very comforting to write. me personally, i’m trying hard not to let the black dog win right now, but it’s tough. so if any of you are also feeling the effects of the holiday season, please know that you’re not alone, and my heart goes out to you. and as always, thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy ❤️🩹]
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Kate was used to putting the tree up early.
She knew how you liked to get it up as early as possible—usually right at the tail end of November, or December 1st at the latest. You liked to make a whole day out of it—putting on one of your favorite Christmas movies, indulging in some spiked cocoa, and getting to work decorating every last square inch of the loft.
And Kate loved getting swept up in the cheeriness of it all. She loved the whirlwind of holiday cheer you became. It always increased her own Christmas spirit by at least a dozen.
But this year has been different.
This year, you didn’t beg her to come with you to the Christmas tree farm the very first day it opened to pick out the biggest and best tree from the selections. You didn’t break out the dozen or so Christmas headbands you bought in bulk for Lucky so he could feel included in the festivities. You didn’t chat Kate’s ear off about all the spiked drink concoctions you planned to make at the upcoming holiday party where you would inevitably play bartender. And she hadn’t caught you trying to get the decorations down from the attic by yourself, despite the heaviness of the boxes, because you were just that eager.
The only thing she’d observed was you skipping dinner. And starting to go to bed earlier and earlier every night.
Now, it was a week and a half into December, and the loft you shared with Kate was still barren of any Christmas spirit—no tree, no ornaments, no stockings on the mantle.
Kate came home to a dark apartment—the only source of light coming from the moonlight peeking through the slits of the living room blinds. Kate casts a forlorn glance toward the stairs, knowing that she was sure to find you in bed, buried beneath the covers in the same Peanuts PJs; the TV either off or on mute. The very thought made her heart sink.
She sighs as she kicks off her boots and pairs them beside the front door. She continues toward the stairs in socked feet, turning over in her head what she was going to say when she saw you; with the knowledge that there’s a good chance you hadn’t moved since she left that morning. And knowing you might not have eaten either.
The sight of you is only slightly different than what she’d pictured in her head. You were in bed under the covers, but you were sitting with your back against the headboard rather than lying down. And you wore one of Kate’s hoodies over your PJs, which she assumes you’d donned soon after she left.
“Hi baby,” Kate says gently as she crosses the room to stand beside the bed. She reaches out to carefully remove the hood, watching your little stray strands sprout up all over your head. “You been here all day?” She asks, smoothing your hair down for you as she speaks.
You nod, your gaze focusing on the space between the TV and in the window wall. Kate tries to lock your gaze as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “Can I get you anything, baby?” She asks, massaging your thigh over the material of the comforter. “Some water? Tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?”
You give your head a small shake. “I’m not that thirsty,”
“Well…why don’t I make you something? I’m sort of in the mood to have breakfast for dinner. What about you?” Kate tries again.
You shrug. “I’m not hungry,”
Kate’s shoulders deflate. She tries again to catch your gaze, but you’re still looking past her at the wall.
She looks down at the comforter, tracing miscellaneous patterns into the material as she tries to think of what she could say to you. Anything she could say to you to help you feel better.
About a minute and a half of silence goes by before you finally bring your gaze toward Kate. “I’m sorry,” you say.
“Hmm?” Kate looks up at you.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I know this mood I’m in isn’t ideal,”
Kate’s brows furrow, but before she can weigh in, you continue to speak. “I know it’s Christmastime and I should be happy, and I should be covering every last inch of the loft in decor, and getting drunk on homemade holiday cocktails, and taking Lucky to see Christmas lights. Hell, our tree should’ve gone up over a week ago. I know. But I just can’t do it. I feel…I feel like I’m in water up to my neck, and I just don’t know what to do, or how to make it go away…” your voice catches and your eyes fill, and Kate tuts as she pulls you into her embrace.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” she coos and she holds you close, massaging your back. “I don’t give a damn about a tree or a couple of decorations right now. I care about you, and how you’re feeling. Don’t invalidate yourself like that, it’s perfectly normal to feel like this. It’s not fair, but it’s normal. And I don’t want you to beat yourself up, okay?”
You nod then sniffle, adjusting so you can tuck your head into Kate’s neck.
“Whatever you need, baby, I’m here,” Kate says, caressing your back in gentle circles and squeezing you tightly. “You just say the word,”
You cling to Kate tighter, mumbling a ‘thank you’ into her neck. You think for a moment and then add, “I think I just need to be held,”
Kate doesn’t miss a beat. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,”
She shifts so that her back is to the headboard, and she pulls you down to rest your head on her chest. And that’s how you stay for the next few hours—just Kate running her fingers through your hair, telling you how much she loves you, and you slowly being lulled to sleep with the combination of Kate’s gentle touch and an old Charlie Brown holiday special on the TV.
When you wake up, it’s morning; indicated by the soft light peeking through your bedroom curtains. The lack of a warm body beside you spells out Kate’s absence. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the first thing you register is a mini tabletop Christmas tree on the bedside table. It’s complete with tiny built-in ornaments and lights, a red base, and a star on top. Your heart warms as you look at it. And then you notice a sliver of paper on the table beside it.
You reach for it, recognizing Kate’s handwriting. ‘good morning, baby. will you meet me in the kitchen when you wake up? i love you. - Kate’
You smile and tuck the note into the pocket of your hoodie, sliding out of bed and dutifully padding down the hall to meet Kate in the kitchen.
The smell of waffles and coffee greets you, and you spot your girlfriend by the cabinets, carefully pulling down breakfast plates. You also see Lucky in his dog bed, one of the Christmas headbands you’d bought him last year perched on his head. His head pops up as he notices you standing there, his tail wagging happily, but he seems content to keep sitting right where he is. You wave at him before turning your attention back to your girlfriend.
You move to wrap your arms around her from behind, smiling as she jolts at the touch. “I saw the little tree,” you say as you push up on your toes to rest your head on her shoulder. “Thank you, baby,”
Kate smiles and turns in your arms to face you. Her arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer. “Glad it put that smile on your face,” she says. “I went out and got it while you slept. I know it’s not much, and I know it’s not a real tree or anything, but—“
“Hush,” you quiet her, leaning in to peck her on the lips. “It’s perfect,”
Kate melts when you kiss her, her forehead resting against yours. “I’m glad you think so. Because I think you’re perfect. And I’d do anything to make you happy. I know this time of year isn’t always good to you,”
“But you are,” you retort, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. “You always are. And I love you so, so much, Katie,”
With that, you kiss her again tenderly, and she kisses you back, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
After a few more kisses and a few more soft declarations of love, the two of you finally separate to dig into the breakfast Kate’s prepared.
And you feel lighter than you have all month, because you have your person—you have Kate. And she’s all you really need.
Hank and you were both on a watching assignment, waiting for Jacob Hobbs to leave his home and to follow him where ever he goes, it was currently around midnight and one in the morning and you were getting restless havin been in the car for a few hours already.
Hank was angry, just several hours before he had assigned you onto this assignment you had gone out of your way and risked your life for ruzek, Despite being completely fine and having no injuries at all he still was furious and refused to speak to you.
"This car feels cramped, I can hardly stretch my legs" you laughed trying to lighten the obvious tension that was in the air, it didn't work. You sigh and slunk in your seat, you were about to talk again when you noticed a frog outside. "Holy shit" you pressed your face up against the window to stare at the beautiful thing curled peacefully beside the black SUV you and your boss was stationed in. "What? See something?" You heard him lean forward in his seat to try and look at what you were looking at but he couldn't see over you, "there is a frog and it's so cute!" You heard him scoff but you knew it was in lightheartedness. "Unbelievable" hank mumbled quietly under his breath, he cracked a smile before pulling you back into your seat "alright you need to pay attention know, here he comes"
You ended up saving a girls life and seeing a frog all in one night, awesome.
As y'all know, this is part of a repost project of mine to share my pieces from last year's Writemas Challenge! I hope y'all enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them last year!!
Thank you to @agirlandherquill for hosting and inviting me to this wonderful event!! My Day 2 prompts are listed here, and here’s the invitation post and rules.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! Have a nice holiday drink today!
My prompts: “You did this…for me?” | A library | Their eyes met, and it felt better than anything else in the world, it felt right | The strength of a hug
“Where are you taking me?” Lettie laughed, barely avoiding tripping on the uneven cobblestones as Donovan pulled her through the busy streets by the hand.
“I already told you, you’ll see!”
“Not if you don’t give me back my glasses!”
Donovan chuckled, his free hand patting the pocket housing the round glasses he’d stashed there for the time being. “How else am I to ensure it remains a surprise? Worry not, I shall return them once we reach our destination.”
Lettie chuckled and rolled her eyes as she allowed him to lead her through the maze of streets and shops. After another moment, Donovan stopped, turning to face her and giving her hand a light squeeze.
“We’re here!”
Lettie squinted her eyes, trying to decipher the blurry splotches of color into something legible.
“And where is here?”
“Patience. Close your eyes.”
“Why bother when you’ve already blinded me?” Her brow quirked upwards playfully.
“Humor me.”
Lettie shook her head with a fond smile. She could hear the excitement in his voice, and obediently shut her eyes.
“Follow me. Mind your step.” Donovan guided her up the steps and opened the door, a bell ringing as they stepped through the threshold and Lettie found herself grinning in anticipation. Donovan momentarily released her hand before appearing behind her and she felt him gently set her glasses to rest comfortably on her nose.
“Alright. Open your eyes.” She did. She looked around in awe as her eyes eagerly scanned her surroundings: Shelves upon shelves stuffed with books. Maps and various artifacts covering every wall and surface. The smell of ink and parchment and leather. A bookshop. He’d brought her to a bookshop.
She immediately rushed forward, examining the spines of the books up close, flipping through pages of poetry, history, and science. She knew she could spend hours, if not days here.
Lettie felt her grin widen as she turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and it felt better than anything else in the world. It felt right.
“How did you find this place? We’ve barely been here a day”
Donovan’s grin matched her own. “It’s the first real town we’ve come across in a while. I knew you’d want some new reading material, so I asked around to find the best bookshop in town.”
“You did that…for me?” Her eyes sparkled and she threw her arms around him. “It’s wonderful! Thank you!”
Donovan paused only a brief moment before returning the hug, resting his cheek on the top of her head with a smile. He’d really missed this.
Seconds later, Lettie pulled away. She had a giddy smile on her face as she took his hand and pulled him through the shop and the two began exploring the shop together.
Five more to go! As always, a big TY @agirlandherquill
Today's prompts: The perils of obsession, A twisted tale
Camelot was in chaos. Men ran around, weapons drawn, and in danger of attacking friends and kin. It was the perfect opportunity for secret rendezvous and clandestine dealings.
Mordred staggered towards the tower balcony, his arm still clutching the rag that concealed the wound Lancelot had delt him.
Pushing against the door with his shoulder, Mordred made an opening just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Once on the balcony, he paused to look at the castle below. All along the walls, sentries ran back and forth, shouting and relaying orders. On the roofs of the great towers, beacon fires had been lit, and horns and drums blared through the night.
"Admiring your handiwork, are you?"
Mordred turned. Where there was no one before, now stood Morgan Le Fey. Though her face was concealed by a wide hood, the displeasure in her voice was clear.
"Displeased aunt? I thought that this was what you wanted."
"Not in this way!" Morgan objected. "I wanted Arthur humbled! I said nothing about tearing the kingdom apart! You act so rashly, without any thought to the consequences!"
"You question me?" Mordred snapped. "When have any of your schemes worked out? The incident of the Green Knight, the attempt to steal Excalibur, giving Tristian that shield...they all failed. I'm the only one who has managed to have any success! I exposed Lancelot and Guenevere! The king's former champion is now a wanted fugitive! The queen is expected to be punished for her crimes!"
"Any you did so in such a way that civil war will consume Albion!" Morgan retorted. "I never had a good relationship with my brother, but I always cared about the wellbeing of the kingdom! All those years forging alliances and settling disputes have all gone down the drain! They all will be taking sides! The land will bleed, and we will be worse off than we were under Vortigern!"
"Oh, Arthur should be able to deal with some sniveling rebels. And if fails, then maybe someone else should take the throne." Mordred remarked as if it were all a game to him.
Morgan grabbed Mordred by his shirt collar. Her grip was even stronger than Gwain's.
"You forget that it was I that had rescued you boy." Her voice had gone icy cold. "I was the one who raised you, encouraged you to seek out knighthood. I introduced you to the court in the hope that Arthur would take you in, and that it would temper your worst impulses. All your successes were because of me. And you decided to squander it all."
She let go.
"You would let your pride fog your mind, forsaking wisdom in favor of short-term vices. Go then. Be king of bone and ash. See how long you will last without my counsel."
I'm so excited to be taking part in Writemas this year! Today, we have a little Melinoë and Vasileios moment, that probably takes place... a little after TAM.
My chosen prompts are:
A silver forest
Enjoy!
The forest was eerie. But not eerie in the way many people think of: it was silver. Personally, I found it quite charming. Not the first time I went there, but in the numerous times after that, certainly.
“Melinoë… where are we?” I shrugged.
“Somewhere. I found it on one of my accidental teleportations a few years ago. Pretty, right?”
Vasileios walked in a large circle, wonder glazing his eyes. “Very.”
I laughed, tugging him along. “Come on, then. I’ll show you my second favourite place here.” We ran through the silver trees, tripping over each other and laughing, joyful even in Vasi’s concern. It was only a few minutes until we stopped at the edge of a lake.
The silver trees reflected onto the dark water, creating an alluring mirror on the lake. Silver streaks through dark water, rippling and curling around themselves. I pulled Vasileios towards the small wooden dock that hung out over the water.
We sat in comfortable silence for about a minute before Vasileios asked the question I had been waiting for.
“You really don’t know where we are?” Vasileios watched me. I sighed.
“No. I think somewhere in Harulen, most likely. But I’ve looked through all of the books, explored around whenever I visited, and never found any mention or sign of this place.”
He nodded, and we relapsed into silence. But not for long, because in two seconds I stood. I ignored Vasileios’ questions and dived into the water. Underwater, I pulled Vasi in after me. I immediately started laughing as he came back up, choking and spluttering.
“Mel!” He coughed. “What was that for?”
“Love you too, Vasi. Look up.” Confused, he did as I directed. In the lake, there was a gap in the trees. Through that gap was a gorgeous sunset that I knew perfectly well occurred at this time of day. And when Vasileios twirled around to pull me close, I smiled.
The whispers of the damned, those who existed solely on the wind, screeched through the shattered windows.
yknow I change these prompts a lot I’m realizing :/ like they’re not exact… anyways.
———
The whispers of the damned, the dead, the forbidden, were always present. They screeched through broken windows, startling Kaiden from her sleep. A cool breeze was permanently blowing, making her shiver. She tried to get up, but found she could not with the rope binding her hands to another’s.
“Tried that already, Kaids.” the person whose hands they were said. He coughed.
She turned her head—‘gods, that hurt’—to him, the little light that emanated from his wings just barely illuminating his features. Despite that, she could see the furrow of his brow and the tension in his jaw. The bite of regret suddenly reminded her: They had been captured. On the most important mission of their lives, no less.
“Felix. Where…?” she started, still woozy.
“Some church, I think. Just past Liaba Ridge.”
“Okay… well, when did you wake up?”
“An hour ago? Not sure—also your head’s bleeding, those guys nailed it really bad.”
Right on cue, she felt a trickle of blood roll down the side of her face, mingling with the other blood pooling underneath them. “Ouch.”
“Ouch is right,” he replied, shifting his weight slightly, which elicited winces from the both of them. “We aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, urgently, worry tinging her tone.
“I think I broke my pinkie toe. Pair that with my throat being—” a short coughing fit, then, “—sore, to say the least, the ol’ wing tears, and the possible cracked ribs? I’ve felt better. How are you?”
“…Not good.”
Felix chuckled, but it was without mirth. “Blunt as always, Kaids.”
Silence settled between them as they thought about where to go from here. They were knocked out, beaten—if the mysterious injuries they’d sustained were anything to go by—tied up, and possibly left for dead in an abandoned building. It wasn’t looking good.
Still, they’d faced worse odds before. All the pair needed was a plan.
“We’re trapped, yes, but we’re not completely incapacitated,” she observed, cocking her head to Felix’s legs. “Our legs are… relatively okay. All we need to do is—”
“—figure out where we are, then—”
“—find a way back to the rendezvous point. We lay low until the others come.” she finished with a smile.
“Alrighty Kaidy, sounds good. But,” Kaiden felt a prick of magic, and heard Felix sigh, “Magic’s blocked. I can’t sever the ropes. Maybe if I…” he started wiggling, seemingly trying to get a better angle to work from. His wings, however, were crushing themselves even more.
“Hey!” she hissed. “Careful, your wings!”
“Well I can’t untie it if I stay still, now can I?” he huffed, but his voice was tinged with pain.
“Let me do it.” Kaiden tried her hands at the binds, but to no avail. They were too numb to be of any use. Damned cold.
Kaiden groaned. “This is gonna take ages.”
“Well at least the ropes aren’t enchanted…?” Felix offered, but his tone soured fast. “Oh, fuck me.”
She was going to ask what made him upset, but then she felt it: the ropes tightening of their own accord. Her eyes darted to where she imagined the door was, and dread filled her as she realized it, too, was enchanted, glowing slightly at the edges.
They were trapped. Clearly, their captors knew what they were doing.
‘Well, time for a new plan, I suppose.’ she thought. Her mind whirled, like the winds outside, as the spirits—‘useless things’—looked on. Despite her best efforts, she came up dry.
Kaiden blinked back tears as her planning turned to panicking. They’d die here, of starvation, or the cold—or their injuries, even—at this rate. A pit opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow every last bit of composure she had.
Until she felt an unsteady hand on the small of her back. And a pair of familiar wings, stretched out on both sides, their faint glow slightly tainted from the tears in the membrane.
The surprise shortly stunned her. “…Did you just hug me? Or try to?”
“Maybe,” he said, so gently Kaiden almost missed it. “And before you say ‘I don’t need it, I’ll be fine,’ just know I can feel your anxiety from here.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “One of the many perks of being Bound to you. We’ll be okay.”
She tried to object, but deep down she knew that this would be best: letting herself calm down and then think would assist her in the long run. Besides, when she really focused on their soul bind, she found that Felix was just as scared as her. So she leaned her head on his, and took a breath. “Say that again.”
“We’ll be okay?”
“Mm.”
“We’ll be okay,” he shifted his weight again, carefully this time. “We’ll be okay.”
Kaiden closed her eyes and tried to relax.
“… how many more times do I have to say this, by the way?”
“Don’t stop saying it. At least till you can see that I’ve calmed down. And do watch your wings, please.”
Felix chuckled. “As you wish. We’ll be okay.”
———
they were not, in fact, okay :>
General Writing List! Lemme know if you’d like on/off!
Joining this one waaaaay late, but better to participate than to never do it at all. Just wrote a quick short story from an inspiration that randomly struck me when reading the prompts.
Prompts:
Loosely based on the Narration prompt "There comes a time in every battle for surrender."
Mainly includes the three dialogue prompts, as I really liked how those worked.
Story:
TW: Mild violence (it's a battle, but it doesn't really go too deep into it), swearing, first person (shudder)
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It is said that when a battle turns from the fighting for your life, to the destruction of that which we reside upon, it is no longer a battle, but a sin. A crime against nature and all the laws that tied our feeble bodies down to this strained reality.
As the days go on and the sky turns black with smoke, the ground ashen and covered in the bones of those killed, I had slowly learned that the statement was nothing if not true. It was law. The only amendment would to take out the middle. Battle is nothing but sin.
Gunfire was a symphony symbiotic with existence, the screams and yelps of the dying complimenting them, the grand finale: the smell and look of the dead. Orders were screamed and shots were fired, bombs were dropped, cities were burned. There was a cause when we all sat down planning this damn thing. There was a purpose when we pledged our hearts to fight and we drank and jeered at the corporations that oppressed us.
I raised my heavy metal weapon and shot thrice at the nearest stumbling soldier, who collapsed upon the ground with a spray of dust. The sound should've been deafening. I should've had satisfaction. But I simply ducked down behind my metal wall and lay there. Beads of sweat dripped down the back of my neck, my feble metal plate protection caked with dust and dirt. I had scratches running down my arms and legs, some on my face, others on my hands and feet. The second-in-command of a group of rugged murderers and criminals. I fit the part.
A round of gunfire assaulted my ears, shells pinging into someplace beside me in the wall. It was my one barrier between life and death. Ironic that a piece of scrap metal was the only thing keeping me alive.
I took a few gulping breaths, before raising my weapon slightly above the wall and waiting for a second round. I nearly flinched when it came, shells pinging against the metal closer to me, a few whizzing past me and thudding into the dust behind, spraying the stuff into the air. I immediately crouched low. Bloody bastards don't know when to quit, I thought resentfully.
There was a quick moment when I was alone behind the wall, then an instant later he was beside me. I turned quickly to see blond hair caked with dirt, face half obscured by a mask. And that stupid cloak that he would always wear, damn near painting a target on his back. Devan—although most people just called him 'lord' or 'sir'—was the commander who had made this all happen. Who had created an army of soldiers to fight for a common cause. Who had split open planets to fight for the greater good.
And he was beside me looking defeated.
"Shit, Devan," I grabbed his shoulders, noticing a mess of maroon in his shoulder.
Devan shrugged me off, although he clearly winced when I touched him. "It's nothing."
"It's not fucking nothing," I snarled, grabbing him once more. "You've been shot."
He looked away, not making an effort to remove my grip this time. "It won't matter anyways."
It was a strange thing to say. Not like him at all.
"What won't matter? What the hell are you even talking about?" I said, instinctivly shaking him before remembering to stop myself.
Devan remained silent.
"Devan, you answer me right fucking now. What won't matter?"
"Let go of me," he said, voice low.
I did nothing.
He repeated himself, louder this time. My eyebrows knit in confusing, and although I didn't make a single conscious effort to do so, my arms fell to my sides.
Devan struggled to shift himself upwards, leaning against the wall and quietly cursing. "I didn't… it's not…" he started to speak, before falling silent. Around us, hellfire rained and soldiers ran to their graves. And yet it was quiet.
"We're not going to win this," he said at last.
"Don't say that." I muttered. I didn't know why tried to lie to myself. To say that it was all going to be okay.
"We're not going to win this battle. And we're not going to win this fucking war. Unless…" he paused, staring into the distance, face twisted in an unrecognizable expression. "Unless we give them something to fight for."
"Something to… what the fuck are you saying?"
Devan shook his head, what seemed to be the ghost of a smile present on his broken face. "You know what I'm saying."
The words were almost a whisper; something that not a single soul was meant to hear.
And it was quiet again.
"We can expose the corporations in some way, do… something. Anything." I tried. Devan's face remained absolute.
"I am already dead." Devan stared at the ground. "I have been dead for a long time."
It was true.
I could not let it be true.
"No, I - fuck." I shook my head, tears beginning to form. "I'm never going to forgive myself for this, let alone you."
"You don't have to forgive me," he said. "All you have to do is keep going." For once, Devan turned his head upwards, to look into my eyes. "You can't stop. No matter what. We win this or we fucking die."
I almost sobbed at that. "What do you want me to tell them?" I demanded. "Tell them their commander threw himself at the enemy, killed himself in the name of our cause, because death was his only way out? That's what you want???"
Devan was looking at the dirt again. "You tell them I was murdered in cold blood by the soliders. You tell them they laughed as I died. You - you tell them anything. Just keep it going. Please."
This time, he didn't bother raising his head to look at me. His words were directed to the dirt, and the dirt alone.
"So you're just going to risk it all—and never tell anyone?" I demaned. Tears were flowing, my insides becoming more and more hollow every second.
And Devan looked at me one last time, smiling. "There's some chances you just have to take."
Without another word, he turned and walked out into hell. There he died.
He was murdered in cold blood by the enemy soldiers.
And they laughed as he died.
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Thx for reading <3 this was really fun to do on my random late night boost of energy.
