Look I promise one day I'll write something somebody actually wants to read
Title: You Who Are My Home
Fandom: Fairy Tail
Characters: Mirajane and Elfman, mentions of others
Rating: PG
Word Count: 704
Summary: Mirajane and Elfman dealing with grief.
A/N: Spoilersss. If you don't already know what the fic is about, you have not read/watched far enough. Also, I'm sorry this is such a tiny fic.
In the days following Lisanna’s death, everything was still and silent. Life ground to a halt within the insular world of Fairy Tail; even the townsfolk seemed to tread lightly and speak softly. Pets were shut up inside and children playing in the streets were shushed as mages wandered by like ghosts, drifting hollow-eyed and without purpose along their daily paths.
The funeral was a hasty, muted affair. She was too young, it happened too fast, and no one quite knew what to say. Putting her into the ground offered no closure. The worst of all was Natsu; everyone dealt with the grief in the best way they knew how, in hushed tones and dark garb, but Natsu howled like a raging wind and would have torn the world apart if Erza hadn’t put a stop to it. No one will ever know what she and the master said to him when he came to, but it put a lid on his pain and fury, barely containing the danger but not soothing it. Only time would manage that feat, if even time ever truly could.
Meanwhile, Mirajane and Elfman didn’t cry. They shed all their tears at Lisanna’s grave the evening she was buried, but afterward, it seemed a dishonor to her memory to weep, or even to speak her name. They spent several days in a dark and grainy haze of misery, loss, and confusion. Neither of them knew where to go now, what to do. Neither of them showed their faces at the guild for nearly a week. Mirajane knew, when no one came, that the master had forbade visitors, and was infinitely grateful not to have anyone see them like this.
Even worse than Natsu’s fury was Elfman’s guilt. Every day, Mira saw him sitting at the table with his head in his hands, when he bothered to get up at all; she herself didn’t have the luxury of hiding from the world under her blankets. She had to take care of the house and her brother, knowing that he was having a worse time of it than she was.
There was a moment when she went to check up on him in the night that she couldn’t stop the thought of how easy it would be to smother him while he slept, to destroy him for what he did to Lisanna, and that was the only time she cried. She locked herself in the bathroom and wept hysterically for her sister and her brother and herself, wept until no more tears would come, and vowed that she would never think such a thing again for as long as she lived. Elfman was all she had left, and she loved him, and it was no more his fault than her own. When she had dried her eyes, she went and crawled into bed beside him, tucking the covers up around the two of them, and wrapped her arms around him as he slept. She made a promise to herself that she would protect him at any cost, and only then would she ever fight again.
In the morning, Mirajane laced up her corset, pulled on a skintight skirt, and tied her boots up to her thighs. When she looked in the mirror, all she could see was a girl trapped in leather and fabric, bound up nearly as tight as her heart, and she couldn’t take it. She sat on the floor of her bedroom with her head in her hands until Elfman found her that way, and couldn’t bring herself to move even then.
When she finally looked up, he was holding their mother’s old dress, soft and worn, no laces or binding cloth or leather. Mira had to stand up on her tiptoes and pull him down with her arms around his neck, marveling as she kissed him at how big and strong this man was who would love a little bird with all his heart and bring her clothes to wear when she couldn’t stand.
“Now I’m going to take care of you, sister,” Elfman said, and they stood that way for a long time, weak morning sunlight slowly filling up the room and pushing the shadows away.
Fandom: Fairy Tail
Characters: Mirajane and Elfman, mentions of others
Rating: PG
Word Count: 704
Summary: Mirajane and Elfman dealing with grief.
A/N: Spoilersss. If you don't already know what the fic is about, you have not read/watched far enough. Also, I'm sorry this is such a tiny fic.
In the days following Lisanna’s death, everything was still and silent. Life ground to a halt within the insular world of Fairy Tail; even the townsfolk seemed to tread lightly and speak softly. Pets were shut up inside and children playing in the streets were shushed as mages wandered by like ghosts, drifting hollow-eyed and without purpose along their daily paths.
The funeral was a hasty, muted affair. She was too young, it happened too fast, and no one quite knew what to say. Putting her into the ground offered no closure. The worst of all was Natsu; everyone dealt with the grief in the best way they knew how, in hushed tones and dark garb, but Natsu howled like a raging wind and would have torn the world apart if Erza hadn’t put a stop to it. No one will ever know what she and the master said to him when he came to, but it put a lid on his pain and fury, barely containing the danger but not soothing it. Only time would manage that feat, if even time ever truly could.
Meanwhile, Mirajane and Elfman didn’t cry. They shed all their tears at Lisanna’s grave the evening she was buried, but afterward, it seemed a dishonor to her memory to weep, or even to speak her name. They spent several days in a dark and grainy haze of misery, loss, and confusion. Neither of them knew where to go now, what to do. Neither of them showed their faces at the guild for nearly a week. Mirajane knew, when no one came, that the master had forbade visitors, and was infinitely grateful not to have anyone see them like this.
Even worse than Natsu’s fury was Elfman’s guilt. Every day, Mira saw him sitting at the table with his head in his hands, when he bothered to get up at all; she herself didn’t have the luxury of hiding from the world under her blankets. She had to take care of the house and her brother, knowing that he was having a worse time of it than she was.
There was a moment when she went to check up on him in the night that she couldn’t stop the thought of how easy it would be to smother him while he slept, to destroy him for what he did to Lisanna, and that was the only time she cried. She locked herself in the bathroom and wept hysterically for her sister and her brother and herself, wept until no more tears would come, and vowed that she would never think such a thing again for as long as she lived. Elfman was all she had left, and she loved him, and it was no more his fault than her own. When she had dried her eyes, she went and crawled into bed beside him, tucking the covers up around the two of them, and wrapped her arms around him as he slept. She made a promise to herself that she would protect him at any cost, and only then would she ever fight again.
In the morning, Mirajane laced up her corset, pulled on a skintight skirt, and tied her boots up to her thighs. When she looked in the mirror, all she could see was a girl trapped in leather and fabric, bound up nearly as tight as her heart, and she couldn’t take it. She sat on the floor of her bedroom with her head in her hands until Elfman found her that way, and couldn’t bring herself to move even then.
When she finally looked up, he was holding their mother’s old dress, soft and worn, no laces or binding cloth or leather. Mira had to stand up on her tiptoes and pull him down with her arms around his neck, marveling as she kissed him at how big and strong this man was who would love a little bird with all his heart and bring her clothes to wear when she couldn’t stand.
“Now I’m going to take care of you, sister,” Elfman said, and they stood that way for a long time, weak morning sunlight slowly filling up the room and pushing the shadows away.