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farity · 11 months

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Obsession, part 18

When you walked by the room Alicent had been given your jaw almost dropped. There was a rack with an array of dresses, all in shades of green, a shelf with several pairs of heels, another shelf with what looked a boutique's worth of hair and cosmetic products.

Alicent Hightower might be crying and worried, but she was going to look good doing it.

Helaena had brought her laptop over last night - she usually arranged to have a set of clothes for everyone in the family, as well as the basic necessities, ready to go whenever needed, so she'd left two neat piles on the bed in your room. One with clothes, the other one with electronics and toiletries.

"We might be here a couple of days, I can have something ordered and it will be here within a couple of hours."

You looked down at your sweater and leggings. "If it's okay, can you get me some more of these? As long as they're comfortable so I can sleep in them, I'm good."

Helaena smiled. "Of course. Any particular colors? I know you like soft pinks."

"Blue, maybe. Thank you, Hel." You hugged her and she kissed your cheek.

* * * * *

You returned to Aemond's room to find Alicent praying at his side. As you turned to let her have her privacy, you heard the chair move.

"It's fine, I'm finished."

"If you need more time, I can wait outside."

Alicent smiled at you, "you're the wife. You take precedence over me."

"Alicent, I don't believe in that," you said, "your son is hurt, you take all the time you need. I would never kick you out because I 'take precedence'," you added, making quote signs with your fingers. "I'll be back in a minute."

You went to grab a bottle of water and when you returned, she was holding Aemond's hand. "Your wife is back, I will return later." She leaned down to kiss his forehead and gave you a small smile as she left.

"Aemond," you said gently, sitting next to his bed. "It's time to wake up, my love." You felt tears beginning to gather behind your eyes. "I miss you," you whispered. "Please come back to me."

You grabbed his hand, threaded your fingers through his, kissed the wedding ring he wore. There was a bruise on his elbow where he'd probably landed when he was thrown to the ground, and there was a larger bruise forming beyond the edges of the bandage over the surgery site.

So close to his heart, you thought.

You pressed your forehead against the back of his hand. "Aemond, I love you. Please wake up. None of this means anything to me if you're not with me."

You started to cry, afraid and exhausted, wanting nothing more than for him to come back to you.

* * * * *

"He was lucky in that the collapsed area was small, and that he was flown over quickly," the surgeon was saying.

"Why hasn't he woken up, is there anything else going on?"

"No," the surgeon said, "he is in excellent health. Sometimes it takes a little longer to wake. I wouldn't worry too much about it for the next few hours, Mrs. Targaryen. Excuse me."

You watched him walk away, and once again resisted the urge to start Googling partially collapsed lungs because you were sure to find the worst case scenarios.

"Here."

You turned as Helaena pressed a pastry into your hand. It was some kind of apple thing and it smelled amazing.

"Have you or Aegon ever been hurt?"

"Um, someone shot at Aegon once but Aemond got him out of the way. And of course, you saved me," she smiled at you. "Dad was shot at a few times, he was hit in the hand once, but other than that, nothing major."

By the motherfucking Seven, just about everyone in this family had been shot at.

You took a bite of the pastry.

"Where did you get those, I want one," Aegon said, coming up to take a bite of Helaena's pastry.

"Hey!"

"That's good shit," he said through a mouth full of food, then took another bite and ran off before Helaena could smack him.

"Daeron is on the way. You'll like him, he's so nice. He's the baby of the family."

You smiled at her. "I've seen pictures, it will be nice to meet him. Thank you for breakfast," you said, heading back into Aemond's room.

You sat next to him, finishing up your pastry, and then took his hand again. "Daeron is coming to see you. We are all here, Aemond."

You wouldn't cry again. You knew that sometimes people were still able to hear those around him, and you didn't want him to just hear you cry over and over. "I was thinking about what you said, going somewhere? That would be nice. I know we need to take guards, but maybe when you're all healed up we can take a little trip?"

You rubbed his hand between yours, kissed the back of his fingers. "I was thinking of getting back into drawing. I used to do it a long time ago and I saw this online course I could take. Your mom has been here a lot, we've had some good conversations. So has Aegon, he really does love you, Aemond," you said against his hand."

"And you?"

His voice was so faint and so raspy that you thought you'd imagined it, but when you looked up, he was looking right at you.

You let out a breath, all words forgotten. You started laughing and crying as you rose and kissed his cheek, trying not to move him too much. You kissed his cheek, his lips, his hair, his hand going up to take yours. "I love you," you said against his mouth, "I love you so much."

* * * * *

Alicent was the first to run into the room when you called out that Aemond was awake, her killer heels no impediment as she rushed in and took his other hand.

You moved aside to let the doctor look at the surgery site. "It's healing very well," he said. "If you're feeling up to it, you can go home in a couple of days. With a lot of restrictions," he warned. "I will leave you to your family.

You watched as Aegon, uncharacteristically emotional, ran his hand through Aemond's hair, nodding silently at his brother.

"I see the party started without me."

You turned to the doorway to see a young man you knew to be Daeron, who stood with a backpack hanging off one shoulder.

Daeron hugged his mother, let himself be engulfed by Aegon, and got a kiss on the cheek from Helaena before he made it to Aemond's side. "Glad to see you awake, Aem."

"Glad to be awake."

You took a step back, letting Daeron through. "Hey, nice to meet you, new sister," he said, hugging you before he leaned over and pressed his forehead to his brother's.

You watched the usually composed Alicent crying as all her children gathered. Helaena linked her arm through her mother's, placing her head on Alicent's shoulder. You watched Aegon pull Daeron into a hug, slapping his brother's back.

And you watched Aemond watching his family with a smile on his face.

* * * * *

Two days later, as you walked down the concrete hallway, you felt your heart pounding in your ears. You had gotten a few pointers from Aegon, but still, you were nervous.

The door opened and you saw an empty space with a single chair in the center and a man tied to it.

You nearly ran over to punch him in the face.

"Steady, sis," Aegon whispered beside you. "You'll get your chance."

"Where is my daughter?" Borros Baratheon bellowed.

"Dead" Aegon snapped at him, and Borros roared. "Your own fucking fault, old man."

Borros kept screaming and for a moment you felt badly for him. Floris had died amidst the volleys of gunfire and Borros had been swiftly taken by Aemond's men.

Helaena and Daeron walked in and Borros looked at everyone facing him. His eyes, the renowned Baratheon blue, landed on you. "And who the fuck are you?"

You felt Aegon's hand on your back.

"I'm Aemond's wife."

Borros looked you up and down. "Wife?" he asked, "or widow?"

"Wife."

He snapped his eyes to the doorway, where Aemond stood. Daeron had pushed the wheelchair the surgeon had insisted he use until he left Tarth, down the hallway, but Aemond had insisted on facing Borros on his own two feet.

"I am sorry for your loss," he said gently.

"You'll see her again soon, you sick fuck," Aegon added. "Lets get this over with, I want to go home."

He pulled out a gun and handed it to you. He looked at you and nodded.

"Tarth!" Borros screamed, hoping for rescue.

You'd practiced a little but there was no way you were remotely comfortable holding a gun. You held it securely and aimed at Borros's chest.

"Borros Baratheon," you said, "know that you didn't take him from me, but we will take everything from you, and make House Baratheon a memory."

You pulled the trigger, your arms ready for the kickback, and saw the moment blood started to bloom below Borros's shoulder. He jerked back, growling in pain.

"I will pay you," he gritted out, panting heavily.

"You already have," Aemond said, and took the gun from you. He raised his hand and shot him through the forehead.

Borros's head fell back and his mouth went slack, and Aemond gave the gun back to Aegon.

"Let's go home."

* * * * *

You hadn't let go of Aemond since he'd woken up, other than to use the bathroom or when the doctor was examining him. And you didn't let go of him on the way home, sitting next to him on the plane, and then in the car.

"You did well."

"I meant to shoot him where he shot you," you said sheepishly. "I should take lessons."

Aemond kissed your hair. "First self defense, then shooting."

You leaned into him, his hand in yours. He squeezed your hand, then turned it over. "About time I get you an engagement ring, don't you think?"

"I don't care," you replied.

He rolled his eye at you. "Then maybe, an 'I took my first shot' ring since you did so well."

You laughed. "That is so morbid."

He leaned over to kiss you, his lips gentle. You remembered how you had looked at him while he was on the hospital bed, so still, his skin so pale, and you cupped his cheek.

When he pulled back he looked at you. "I'm here," he murmured, reading your thoughts. You nodded at him. You were almost home and you wanted nothing more than to know you were both safe and sound.

* * * * *

"I heard you, you know."

She was arranging pillows behind his back, tucking a blanket over his legs, making sure his water and pills were within reach. When she heard him, she looked up.

"When?"

"Before I woke up."

She looked around, remembering, and then she smiled. "Which part?"

"You told me to come back to you."

She nodded and went to sit next to him, her legs tucked under her. "I did."

"Don't ever say I don't listen to you."

She laughed, and then her lips pressed together and she buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said as she broke down. "I really don't mean to be so weak."

He pulled her in, "you're not weak," he kissed the top of her head as she sobbed, "the last fucking thing you are is weak."

When she stopped crying, he kissed her cheek. "You know, I thought I'd never find someone. Between what I do, my family, that fact that I didn't want a fucking mafia princess which ruled out 90% of my options, I just didn't think it would happen."

"But then you appeared," he continued, "and you wanted nothing to do with me."

She smiled, remembering well their first meeting.

"And then I saw you at the wedding and I thought you were a goddess-"

She scoffed, shaking her head.

"You were. And then I followed you, and then I kissed you. And whether you knew it - whether I knew it - I was yours."

She pulled him in for a kiss, leaning over so he wouldn't have to turn.

"And I came to you, covered in blood, thinking I could frighten you and then you'd push me out of your life and that would be it."

"Aemond," she said softly.

"Because if you couldn't handle it, I had no business pulling you into this life. But instead I found I didn't want to leave your side."

"I'm with you," she replied. "I love you."

"I love you," he whispered, pulling her in, breathing the scent of her hair, her skin, smiling when she repeated I love you over and over. It was the sound that had pulled him back.

* * * * *

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hippolotamus · 9 months

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✨2023 writing round-up✨

Writing Round-Up: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones your most excited about.

2023 saw me writing a lot of unexpected and new things! It's been a unique year in the Hippoverse to say the least. Going to highlight some of my favs as well as things that never made it to AO3 💖 Putting it all under the cut to save your dash 😘

January

you spoke to me so sweetly | 2.6k | E (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote before shit got real

Alexis hums her appreciation, letting her eyes fall closed while Twyla repeats the circuitous route, and breathing in the blend of lavender and lemon oil her wife insisted upon for “calm and good luck”. The temporary serenity only lasts for three or four passes until a light knock at the door interrupts. She doesn’t try to hide her instant pout when the gentle pressure disappears and she’s forced to open her eyes again. Dr. Rist breezes inside, far too perky in Alexis’s opinion. Perhaps it’s a good sign. Despite her nerves, Alexis plasters her PR smile on, and clasps Twyla’s hand – the only tell she’ll allow to indicate she’s worried while they wait to find out what kind of life changing the appointment will be. “Well,” Dr. Rist says. “Alexis. Twyla. Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s begin, shall we?”

tumblr prompt fill for but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new years day featuring David and Stevie -

Stevie turns her head and he’s very uninterested in the look on her face, what it might mean. He’s only seen it once before - in the low light of her messy apartment - which is why he’s positive she’s about to drop a bomb on him. Something that preemptively makes his insides twist. It’s too much for getting high and laying out on the roof of the high school.

March

all in the Jee-tails | 4.5k | T (Buddie)

Okay. Just a little turn aaaand- yes. Alright, only one more to go. You got this, Buckley. Buck watches with fascination as the sewing machine’s needle dips and resurfaces, piercing the shimmery blue fabric. A wave of satisfaction and pride washes over him when the final stitches meet seamlessly with the beginning ones. For only putting in minimal effort during Family & Consumer Sciences, he’s impressed with his handiwork. He eases his foot off the pedal and snips the thread, freeing his creation so he can try it on. Ever since Jee watched Sleeping Beauty and Shrek for the first time she’s become obsessed with all things fantasy. Much to Maddie, Chim and Eddie’s amusement, Buck couldn’t help himself from buying her a sparkly dress (or three), as well as a tiara fit for pint-sized royalty. Of course, once she had her clothes to play dress up, she needed a fearsome beast to battle. And, well, how was Buck supposed to be an effective dragon without his own wings? OR There is a Princess, Knight, Dragon, Wizard and Damsel in Distress and there is nothing Uncle Buck won't do for his niece.

NGL I absolutely adore this one. I had a blast writing it and assigning roles to the Han-Buckley-Diaz family.

I'm reaching for you, terrified | Buddie tumblr post

I’m leaving the 118. Buck has had his oxygen tank run out, he’s been caught in more natural disasters than he’d prefer, and trapped under a ladder truck. Among other things. Those agonizing memories pale in comparison to what he feels now, hearing Eddie’s announcement. He’s a mix of breathless and numb and tingling pinpricks dancing over his skin. Of too much and not enough and loss.

May

I know all your secrets | 4.6k | E (David/Patrick)

A fic I originally published in 2022 but added a much needed chapter to

Patrick grins, noting the warm, spicy scent filling the spaces between them. It should make him wary, but that sensation stopped long ago, replaced by want and lust. “Rose, we meet again.” “So we do,” David purrs in response. “I hope you’ve been well since Denmark.” Patrick traces a finger over the curves he’s become so accustomed to, feeling the sleek mother-of-pearl buttons under his skin until he hooks onto the V of the single-breasted tuxedo jacket. “Never better. Should we exchange the usual my country wants you dead pleasantries first or is foreplay off the menu tonight?” or the AU where Agents Brewer and Rose are rival spies who can't seem to stay away from each other

June

the only thing that matters now (is everything) | 882 | G (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote after shit got real

Alexis combs her fingers through her hair, letting manicured nails lightly scratch along her scalp while she stares at the ceiling. Golden wavy strands glide between her fingertips before dropping back to the pillow, a feeling she wants to take advantage of while she can. The self-soothing act had always calmed her as a little girl. Tonight she’s not exactly troubled, but ever since the tests came back, and the immediate future is wrapped in so much uncertainty, she’s found herself doing it more often. Beyond the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window, painting an ethereal line across the carpet and over the blankets, she doesn’t know what time it is. Only that it’s still night, and dawn could be minutes or hours away. Patrick, with all his lil’ nature skills, would probably know without having to look at a clock. She’ll have to ask next time they talk. ---------------------- A future fic that leaves Alexis pondering life put on hold by the unexpected

October

A lil teen Eddie sneaking out to look at the stars tumblr post

November

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) | 3.2k | T Buddie

a foray into angsty writing

Eddie knows it’s him immediately. Feels the weight of his presence like a favorite coat that doesn’t quite fit anymore. Of course he does. Try as he might, Eddie will never not know when Buck is nearby. They are too intertwined. Had become too embedded in each other’s lives before- well, before everything. Before death doulas and school projects, lightning strikes and gunshots, poker games and treasure hunts. Long before Christopher graduated high school, Bobby retired and Hen became captain, and Buck… disappeared. One day he and Buck were moving Christopher into his dorm room, laughing and making plans to send care packages from themselves and Tía Pepa. And the next Eddie felt like he was reliving I need some time too all over again. OR After Chris leaves for college Buck mysteriously disappears. Five years later he finally returns with some answers.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) | 1.8k | E Lutalia

baby's first Lutalia fic!

This – laying around cuddling after sex – isn’t their usual arrangement. Not like they have a usual arrangement. The only constant is one of them needing to blow off some steam and sending a text that sometimes only consists of a question mark. Then they fuck wherever is most convenient, whether that’s a car, motel room or, on at least one occasion, Nat’s office. Once in a while, like tonight, they both have the time and coordination to meet at one of their apartments, although it’s a scenario they tend to use infrequently for the purposes of keeping things casual. OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift

December

Buddie-ish prompt fill for @steadfastsaturnsrings - Eddie doesn’t remember hanging up the phone, or locking the door. He doesn’t remember grabbing the baseball bat that he keeps under his bed in case someone breaks in. Or where his reign of terror began. He supposes he swung for the first thing within reach and didn’t stop until there was nothing left his brain recognized as destructible.

Buddie prompt fill for @statueinthestone (also added to the WIP pile to explore later) - Buck doesn’t remember exactly when the dreams started, just that it was sometime during his 1.0 phase. Like his subconscious realized before he did that sleeping around wasn’t cutting it. That he craved something deeper and more complex than purely physical relationships.

Fellow Travelers prompt fill for @vanillahigh00 - The words are a balm as much as they are a cut. A stabbing reminder of everything Tim can’t have. Could never have, really. Hawk was never his to keep. And as impossible as their love was before, it’s even more so now. Because Hawk belongs to Lucy. He’s a family man, a paragon of virtue within his world. Even if it’s all a lie.

Miscellaneous (edits and other things)

shall i write it in a letter? - Buckley-Diaz Family edit

And there's this boy... Buddie edit

Offering original poem

Adulting Gold Stars (part 2)

Poker Date Buddie edit

Now & Then Buddie edit

TG:M Buddie edit (is it the most amazing thing ever? not particularly but it was my first so you get it too)

London Boy Oliver edit

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @wikiangela

no pressure tagging mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @buddierights @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @jesuisici33 @statueinthestone @pirrusstuff @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @jamespearce9-1-1 @vanillahigh00 @malewifediaz @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @eowon @spagheddiediaz @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @lemonzestywrites and of course anyone else who wants to share

#i uh did a lot this year #and this isn't even everything #pretty damn proud of myself actually #2023 writing round up #hippo writes #hippo makes things #twylexis fic #lutalia fic #buddie fic #buddieedit #buckley diaz family

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mythicamagic · 2 months

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have you played Love and Deepspace and what is your review on it??

Hello! Yes I have. It's sitting in my homescreen right now on my phone.

I think my opinions on it might be quite mixed or controversial? So just bare that in mind before reading.

I've played a looot of otomes. I think I started playing them in 2009. I can very much say that LADS is a unique experience. It's not like anything I've ever played before in terms of graphics, cinematography and interaction with your fictional boyfriends.

The Great:

I think the interface and design is really nice in certain aspects (the combat is a bit iffy). This is a very pretty game imo. Also can I just say, having a customisable MC is really great! I like that you can change not just her skintone but her voice settings as well. I also just- LOVE the 4 and 5 star cards content. They hold some examples of lovely scenarios written with care, and some good ole fanservice to boot as a treat. Whoever does the lighting for the 5* cards does a marvellous job, as the animations really feel 'alive' sometimes. Great direction with using the MC as the POV so the 'camera' swings or moves closer according to how she's reacting. Love that.

The LIs:

I think having a varied cast is important in otomes but a common vibe or theme can often be shared between their contrasting personalities. For Piofiore its mafia/crime lords and domestic life, for Cafe Enchante cosy coffeeshop vibes. With Love and Deepspace I'd say its cosy vibes mixed with action, mixed with angst. The cast supports this, with all of them having serious or sweet sides. I am definitely not drawn to some of them, but that's okay! I think anyone going in new should know they won't like everyone and that's common for otome. What I find uninteresting might be wonderful to someone else and vice versa. I will say Sylus took the spot as my favourite and he has a very different vibe to the others even when he's doing cosy domestic stuff. I very much enjoy his scenes and how dynamic they feel (also its really nice the whole cast is in their twenties)

The Bad:

The worst casualty in Love and Deepspace is...the main story. I can't overstate how much of a confusing, poorly written and badly executed mess the main story is. In terms of setup, establishing lore, world building and stakes, it somewhat limps from one chapter to another. Scenes can begin and end abruptly with plot threads seemingly dropped. Secrets can often be intriguing, yes- but by continually withholding answers the game can get a bit frustrating. As a new player with no knowledge of the game, I didn't understand why Rafayel kept referring to himself as a fish during the crane game and kitty card mini games. It was like they were referencing something that hadn't happened yet in game, so I was like - okay, I'll wait. I'm sure it'll be explained (spoilers: it was not explained).

Essentially if you want backstory and context to the boys you NEED their cards to unlock their content, and I'm not a huge fan of that. I think the main story should still at least give you a bit more to work with about the boys. (This is especially bad when the lore is locked behind gacha luck). And I get that the whole story is space/time themed but sincerely I did not know the world of Love and Deepspace was capable of casual space travel until I read Sylus' anecdote story. This is not good worldbuilding. Sure it throws loads of terminology at you but you'll have to read the notes yourself to understand what they are. It's a lot of telling and not showing. For an example of how this could've been done: Cowboy Bebop is about bounty hunters in space. It has scenes of them...in space. You're telling me someone as rich as Sylus, who offers MC to go on his motorbike, yacht, and private jet, wouldn't offer her a circle around the planet in his spaceship? Idk it feels like a lot of worldbuilding details have been overlooked.

There is also the issue of voice acting. This can again come down to personal preference but in general I always give English Dubs a fair chance, and enjoy many of them. Voice acting has come a long way since the wooden performances of older animes and games. That said, many of the boys, especially in the earlier chapters and content sound extremely flat. This goes double for the NPCs (who can be laughably bad). It's not even a matter of 'oh this person is just reading lines with no emotion' no the inflections in their voice are off- the context of what they're supposed to be emoting to can feel a million miles off base. I barely felt like they were in the scene with me. That said - this was likely a voice direction issue, because more recent content allows the boys to sound more relaxed and involved in the scene. Sylus' English VA knocks it out of the park in his performance though and I really appreciate how much he embraced that role. A lot of people could get embarrassed having to voice ASMR type content but he got fully immersed so 10/10 for that. I haven't tried any other languages apart from Japanese but c'mon, we know the Japanese VAs are like celebrities over there and will crush any role so no notes there except they're all great.

TLDR:

With all that said I do not hate the game, I really enjoy it! (I wouldn't have ranted so much here if I didn't care) I just wish certain aspects were tightened up more for storytelling purposes. It feels a bit jarring when some aspects of the game are SUPER polished but then easy mistakes are made. So I'd say if you're interested in playing - to just embrace the fluff and spicy fanservice. Treat it as your main meal as I do. If you end up enjoying the main story and combat then that's a bonus! I really hope this game continues to be successful because their recent content and chapter has been super intriguing - and in general its just nice to have an otome reach the spot of 3rd highest grossing mobile game during some months (below the giants like Genshin and HSR)

#love and deepspace #LADS

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disniq · 2 years

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12, 17 and 35 pls 🌻🌻🌻

[For the writer ask meme, which is still open!]

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I don't think so? Like I said in here, I tend to be more inspired by the potential than the reality so I kind of latch onto the little what-ifs or threads that aren't followed up on rather than wholesale episodes. And boy, there are a lot of loose threads to pull at in Titans lmao.

(That said, I have watched season 2 episode 7 so so many times because it is absolutely chock full of those threads.

Why is Deathstroke the Terminator's plan A high-school level psychological torture? Why are a bunch of adults so ready to turn on a teenager who has no conceivable way of knowing any of the information used against them?? (In fact, why does Slade even know that Donna's dead ex used to give her orange soda? That's so fuckin obscure !!!) They drive an already traumatized teenager to the brink of suicide and it's NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN WHAT. Jason was kidnapped, held captive, stabbed, and then dropped off a building and only saved by a freak coincidence and NOBODY EVEN ASKS IF HE'S OKAY!! Dick sort of half-arsedly tries, but he's *also* having a mental break and hallucinating and he's so fucking casual about it??

This episode is SO *MUCH* and also the Bruce hallucinations are hilarious "Does anybody need anything? Milk? Eggs? BoDy BaGs?")

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Both? Both.

I'm the kind of neurodivergent who has to write stuff down or I forget, so my notes app is full of random sentences and dialogue exchanges, I have bullet point plot notes down on paper all over the place, sometimes when I need a break from one fic I'll start a later scene from the same work in a different doc etc etc. So sometimes I'll be hit with a sudden idea for a scene or a breakthrough for a longer fic while I'm at work or on the bus or whatever and *have* to write it down *immediately*.

But when I actually sit down with my laptop to write, I have to go through it in order. Start at the beginning, edit what I've already written, and work through beat by beat, pulling up my other notes as and when I need them.

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

I, hm. I haven't so far, I don't think. I have, in fact, brought several characters back to life lol (yay, supernatural!).

I don't want to say I *never* would, because I'm not against it as a general plot choice, but it'd have to fit the story. Since I default to Fix-it fics and hopeful endings, lets say it's unlikely.

#asked and answered #ask games #titans (2018)

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years

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Chapter 10 Preview

Okay y'all, I've made a decision. I'm gonna give you all the beginning of chapter 10, BUT this will be the ONLY sneak peek/preview (I'll still release the title and maybe a quote or two). Chapter 10 is going to be a big boy, maybe the longest chapter to date and it's literally so full of important stuff and big reveals I'm not gonna risk spoiling too much because I'm SO excited and proud of how it's turning out and want you all to get to read it and be as excited and shit as I am!

So here you go! Enjoy! 😊💖

When Dream entered the library he felt lighter than he had in decades. He felt whole, as did his realm and everything was as it should be. Lucienne greeted him politely, pulling out the books she'd picked out and fixing her glasses on her face.

"What have you found?" He asked looking down at the slightly dusty pile.

"I'm not sure," she admitted with a sigh. "When you gave me the name of our lady I looked high and low attempting to locate anything about her here in The Dreaming. As you predicted, nothing."

He nodded. "She does not dream, so it is unlikely we'll find her here."

Lucienne glanced at the book in her hands and held it out to him. "Last night, shortly after the two of you… returned to the palace I found this on my desk."

The book was bound in multicolored threads, glistening in the light as it moved. Penelope Barlow carved into the front. His finger traced over the letters. "How is this possible?"

"I don't know, my lord." His librarian admitted. He moved to open it when she cleared her throat. "Sir, if I may…"

"What is it, Lucienne?"

"I read what was in the book, sir, to be certain it was our lady. What you find will no doubt distress you. And I only wish to remind you that The Dreaming is still weak and in need of you more than ever."

"Lucienne," he interrupted.

She sighed. "It appears… It seems one of your siblings was involved in our lady being severed from The Dreaming."

His chest burned and he moved to open the book again, but just as his fingers curled around the edge he felt a blinding pain pierce his head. Dreams vision swam, the pain so great he had to steady himself against the table. Lucienne gripped his arm, her startled voice incoherent in his ears. When it vanished along with the heartbeat he'd been feeling beside his own he dropped the book. "Penelope!"

Teleporting to his room the fear turned into all out panic at the sight of the bed in disarray and her bag of trinkets on the ground, the small objects scattered across the floor. He couldn't breathe. The room filled with shadows as his fear gave way to anger. Luciennes warning swirled in his mind. One of his siblings was behind this, and once he found out which one nothing short of his lady's return and their cries for mercy would satisfy him.

***

This was getting ridiculous. They stared down at me with their wide grin unfaltering. "As lovely as you look down there, Petal, I think you should get up."

"You," I said. "You were at the bar that night."

Their hand pressed to their chest as they looked away faking a bashful reaction. "Oh, how very flattering this is! The Lady of The Dreaming recognizes little old me."

"Who are you?" I chose to ask instead of attempting to retaliate against their obvious teasing.

"I am all that you Desire."

Desire. "You're one of Morpheus' siblings."

They shrugged. "But of course."

"Why are all of you so obsessed with dragging me places?" I demanded lifting myself up off the floor.

Desire looked confused, the first genuine emotion I'd seen from them. "I didnt bring you here, Petal."

"What?"

They rolled their eyes. "You don't catch on very quick, do you?"

I'd forgotten how easily they got bored and how rude they were. "What do you mean you didn't bring me here?"

"I did nothing." They said, "Here I was, walking the halls of my realm and then poof a little flower tumbles into my path. You brought yourself here. It's what you do after all."

"What I do?" "Yes, Weavers are notorious party crashers." They smiled. "Though none before did so as frequently or as elegantly as you."

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#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless #dream the endless #the sandman series #sandman morpheus #the sandman fanfic #sandman netflix #dream x oc #dream x reader #lord of dreams #king of dreams #morpheus #morpheus x oc #morpheus x reader #the sandman morpheus

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

moonflower.

dialogue prompt #6: “It's 3 o'clock in the morning”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationships, fluff

word count: 1,550

warnings: making out

summary: a 3am walk in the city with your boyfriend

a/n: got this inspiration from an instagram reel and I wanted to transfer that entire feel into this one shot. hope you guys enjoyy and please drop feedbacks it really boosts motivation!! p.s as soon as I completed this, butter official teaser was released SOOOO EXCITED!!!

masterlist

“It's 3 o'clock in the morning”, you take a breath in and resume kissing him, hands tangling in the locks at his nape.

“I know”, he rasps, pulling back to bring your foreheads together, taking a moment to immerse the image of your swollen lips and cold skin of your face “It'll be fun baby”.

You don't know who exactly started kissing. Jungkook came back from his night shift not long ago and he expected you to be asleep. But he was beyond happy to catch you peacefully listening to music and waiting for him, paying attention to arbitrary details of the city still alive below. What began as a welcome kiss soon turned into a brief makeout-session, the first press of his lips against yours truly reminding how much you missed Jungkook throughout the day.

And during small breaks of catching each other's breath, he suggested for a night walk, much like a date since he had been too busy this week.

“Okay”, you huff, still feeling your chest squeezing together to get the normal breathing rate. A smile tugs at his lips and with one final smooch he leaves you to change your clothes into something safe enough for walking through the cold night.

Maybe it's because you had been with Jungkook for so long that you basically adapted a lot of his fashion sense and little habits. When you step out of your small shared apartment, you both look like members of a punk band, all black and leather.

Jungkook smiles down at you, remembering how much you have changed, it felt like you grew bored of colors as well, much of your aesthetics going monochrome at this point. There was a time Jungkook even went worried about it, thinking you were somehow adjusting to him. But you reassured him that he was all the color in your life you needed.

Jungkook interlocks fingers with you, squeezing palms together as he leads the way down stairs.

“Where are we going exactly?”, you ask, an obvious curiosity he hasn't clarified yet.

“I don't know really. We'll figure that out”.

He always had a way with words which made you warm and curious at the same time. You just smile in return and wrap your hands around his leather clad arms and walk along.

You liked this. Dates with no particular destination to be in. Just strolling till your legs are tired, eating street food, getting coffee together or studying at the public library because your apartment is located at a not so silent heart of the city.

And you liked Jungkook very much too. It sometimes feels like lopsided that it demands to overflow from underneath your skin, and sometimes when you are making love to him or cuddling his head close to your chest, you believe he feels it too.

It hits you all of a sudden that you never shared those three words. Never ever uttered them in this two years of relationship and you question them now. Totally random of a realisation just like the day you woke up in a cold sweat accepting to self that you have to confess to Jungkook.

The first place you stop by is a heavily packed food truck selling korean food. It's a usually visited one so Jungkook ask for the customary meal, fire noodles. His favorite of street foods not because there wasn't anything better, he just adored your blush flushed face when you are done.

“Babe?”, he tears open the ketchup and squeezes the content with his chopsticks while watching you, “you good?”.

Apparently you had spaced out, still fueling on the thread of thoughts from earlier. You ground yourself to the present in a jolt, “I'm alright”. You give him a nervous smile.

Jungkook pulls his chair close to yours so that your arms and knees are touching, your skin growing hot despite not touching your noodles yet.

“What are you thinking about hm?”, he demands to know, but not intimidating you more than the point. He busies his hands mixing the ketchup into your noodles instead.

“I love you Jungkook”, you blurt, eyes planted on a random spot on the ground waiting for an outcome.

“And you realized that now baby?”, he chuckles, watching you all shy. He places his noodles from his lap to the table in front to fully face your direction.

“I love you too baby, so much. And I've said that so many times before, when you are sleeping, or when you were not listening. I think I was not as brave as you”, he confesses.

Your chest swells in warmth knowing he had always told you this. You peck his nose and dig into the food, finally able to feel the hunger settling down.

Content with the late night meal, you begin to stroll again after Jungkook laughs and cups your flushed red face. You always hated spicy food as a child but then this is another one of those quirks you caught up being Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“Where do you wanna go baby”, he asks, feeling lost of a trajectory for the date and now you are equally lost too, dwelled in the fact that he will lead the night.

“I don't know”, you state and at the sight of a specific place you continue, “wanna get some drinks?”.

Jungkook immediately giggles, “We both know you lose your mind over half a glass of rum love”.

You knit your brows together for a pout, “Well then you can carry me back home can't you? That would be romantic”, you press yourself to him for no apparent reason.

“Carry you all the way home?”, he muses, holding your whining head softly on his palms while pecking your forehead.

“C’mon Koo then why do you workout for three hours all day? Make some use of your muscle”

“Oh I make plenty use of these muscles and you know it”, he teases back and you smack his arms in response.

After a few very cliche comebacks you both agree to drink the night away. Good thing that Jungkook had a good tolerance to alcohol among you two. Carrying his drunk body single handedly for a smaller human like you would be a tedious task. The math was correct here, and so you start slurping your glass of whatever cheap whiskey they had.

You were enjoying all of this, truly to the core and to the point that you swore there is nothing better to life than this. But Jungkook always felt otherwise.

You see, you are not a rich couple. Just normal millenials who go to college supported with scholarships and debts to pay, several part time jobs and a very low key life where you prioritise your expenses and plan finance together. A couple who has not went on classy restaurant dates in glittery tight fitting dress, or even a sundress and expensive suits. He always wonders about the things that could make you happier and maybe one day he can afford that Italian restaurant you once said is really nice because your sister was proposed by her husband there. You'll look so beautiful in a dress and he can't wait to allure on that.

“Koo?”, you slur, already feeling consciousness leaving your body, “What are you thinking about now hmm?”

He smiles faintly at you swirling his drink and bringing it to his lips to think upon the answer a bit.

“Nothing babe. You look so beautiful right now”, he says.

And immediately you search for a reflecting surface to check yourself out, and that's because you're drunk. Your more sober self usually ends up processing a lot of butterflies at the pit of your tummy.

“I am!?”, you beam, finally able to see a very blurred something of your bummed out face with hair falling over and maybe there's even a little dried drool at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah”, he giggles, scooping you up in his arms for a tight hug, “Let's get home shall we?”

“Carry me pwese”

“C’mon love”, he helps you climb on his back for a piggyback ride, “I'll carry you”.

You tug your limbs a little tighter around Jungkook, he pats under your thigh to loosen up so he can walk. He listens to random mumbles you are whispering to him and he smiles occasionally, carefully paying attention to everything.

“I love you so much sometimes I don't know what to do with myself”, you say and Jungkook stops dead in his track to process the words a bit.

His skin turns red which you can't see and probably you wouldn't mutter such things on your sobering. And he is glad. Glad to know that you are content with what it is. His mind stirs around, his own set of booze blazing the thought further.

“Why did you stop Koo? You tired? Should I carry you?”

“You love me that much?”, he asks, completely dodging your questions.

“Yes. So much”, you kiss his cheeks, pressing down harder then usual to prove your point.

He is convinced you are the one who has a way with the words. You say things which brings him to his knees and you remain so oblivious to it.

“Let's get you home”, he states through a smile.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

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bread--quest · 2 years

Note

20 (alone, finally), jaylen alonzo?

20. alone, finally

cws very brief death mention and like...being kind of in shock? but mostly it just. uh. it got long. so

jaylen alonzo is a member of my fanteam, the portland nor'easters! she's fine with any pronouns but usually goes by she/her and has unilateral hearing loss (hearing loss in one ear), and is generally just some guy.

In only a season with the Nor'Easters, Jaylen has gotten used to being driven home in the Snowmobile along with the rest of the team. They're usually a lot like middle school bus trips, really--lots of loud chatter and laughter, the occasional sing-along. The noise makes it hard to make out any individual conversations, but that's okay. Jaylen usually sits in the back of the bus and plays a game on her phone, or posts on Tumblr, or gets lost in the Amazon Basin in Google Maps, or does whatever her favorite hobby of the week happens to be. Sometimes Madeline or Maxi or Saffron comes to sit with her, and they chat for a bit as best they can, and that's nice.

Today, the bus is silent.

Saffron and Acadia try to stir up some conversation towards the beginning of the trip, voices falsely bright, but no one rallies to take up the conversational thread. When Abbie stops the Snowmobile outside Stephen's house and he picks up his stuff to leave, Acadia calls "Be careful!" after him.

This is part of the routine. Stephen is supposed to turn back, grin, say "I'm always careful!", and then leap over the steps and generally land in mud or narrowly avoid a fall.

Tonight, he just says, so quietly Jaylen wouldn't be able to hear him if not for the silence in the rest of the bus, "I'll try."

After that, Jaylen takes out her hearing aid, thinking foolishly that it'll somehow make it harder to hear the silence. It doesn't, obviously--silence is silence no matter how well you can hear it.

Their newest hobby is Post-It note origami, and they throw themself into it wholeheartedly. They've folded about 6 tiny paper frogs and are considering trying to name them when the bus halts again and someone taps them on the shoulder.

Jaylen looks up. It's Amelie Conifer. She looks like she doesn't really want to be here, but that at least is normal.

"It's your stop," she says, gesturing towards the door.

Jaylen nods, collects her stuff, puts her hearing aid back in, and stands up to go. On the way out, impulsively, she hugs Amelie. It stands there stiffly and doesn't hug her back, but that's normal also. You wouldn't expect a tree to hug you back.

Once she's in her house, Jaylen sighs heavily and sinks to the ground, back against the door. After a few minutes of sitting there, she stands back up, drops her backpack by the door. She'll unpack it tomorrow.

She takes off her shoes, at some point. She spends several minutes standing in her room, staring blankly ahead into nothing. Then she sits down, or at least finds herself sitting down.

Star player Jaylen Hotdogfingers is incinerated!

She takes a deep breath. The weight of what just happened seemed to hang heavier when there were 13 other people remembering it alongside her. Here, in her house, she can try and forget, for just a bit.

"You are not Jaylen Hotdogfingers," she reminds herself. "You are Jaylen Alonzo, and you're not a star player for anyone. You're an average player for the Portland Nor'Easters, and that's it."

She paused.

"You're an average player for the Portland Nor'Easters, and a pretty decent slam poet, and that's it."

Another pause. Jaylen gets up and begins to walk around her room. "You're an average player for the Portland Nor'Easters, and a pretty decent slam poet, and a vintage fork collector, and that's it."

She pads downstairs, wondering idly if she has any noodles left over from last night to eat. "You're an average player for the Portland Nor'Easters, and a pretty decent slam poet, and a vintage fork collector, and a licensed moose fighter, and that's..."

#oc: jaylen alonzo #i love her to death #thankfully in the minor leagues (where the noreasters are) theres no incineration so i dont have to!! yippee #chattin #deathmason my friend deathmason #sonder scribbles #fan: gnym!!#thats my askbox cleared of fic writing games also!!! going out on a GREAT note #asked and answered!!

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flameohotwife · 3 years

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For the prompt thing, maybe 40 or 43? Maybe a combo of both?? I'll let you decide!!

40. "You are crushing me right now."

43. "You're an idiot" (which I kind of combined with 7. "You're an idiot." "But you love me." because why not)

From this fluff prompt list. Rated G-Tish. 1k words.

Katara was pacing back and forth in the tiny Middle Ring apartment she and Aang shared when they visited Ba Sing Se. King Kuei had tried to insist on an extravagant house in the Upper Ring, but they had both refused, partially due to Aang’s minimalist nature and partially because Katara spent most of these visits working at clinics in the Lower Ring, so their apartment was perfectly situated for them both to get to their jobs easily.

Katara stopped at the window and observed the darkening sky. Stars were just beginning to twinkle to life up above, and the rising full moon was making her antsier than normal. It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Aang to be out this late, but on her way home from the clinic today she had heard about an incident at the palace. Nobody seemed to know the details, but each story she overheard became wilder and deadlier than the last, and the uncertainty was causing her heart to race. She had rushed home only to find emptiness. Empty rooms. Empty tea cups leftover from breakfast, still sitting on the table. Empty apartment. Empty pit in her stomach.

Her nervous energy finally bubbled out and she couldn’t stop moving; first clearing the table and washing the dishes, then arranging their belongings and scrubbing the counters, then sweeping the floors, then pacing. She trusted Aang to come home to her every day. This was all part of being the Avatar’s girlfriend (the Avatar’s partner, really--they were everything to each other. It was only the world who saw her only as his girlfriend, as they were not yet betrothed). He would always have duties to the world. Sometimes she could be by his side, but sometimes she would have to let him take care of things on his own, and she always trusted him to make the right choices both for the world and for them. But it didn’t stop the worry.

She was just gathering her things to leave their now-spotless apartment--thinking she could head to the palace herself to see if they needed a healer--when the door swung open and Aang appeared. His robes were disheveled and maybe a little singed, but he was walking on his own and she couldn’t see any blood. There was a clatter as she dropped her bag and keys to the floor and rushed to him, relief coursing through her.

“Hey, Sweetie--OOF!” Katara clung to him like a spidermonkey. She could feel the exhaustion in his muscles, even as his heart still raced with energy. It was the weariness of continuing to fight battle after battle, either physically or in the meeting room. Her heart ached at his lost childhood. He shouldn’t even know he was the Avatar yet; his sixteenth birthday was still months off, and yet he spent his days (and many of his nights) cleaning up the messes of a century-long war. Katara knew that despite the progress he’d made with his chakras, he still held some guilt over his prolonged absence from the world, and that he attempted to atone by being everywhere at once. An impossible task. She squeezed him tighter.

“Katara,” he gasped, trying to wriggle free from her vice-like grip. “You are crushing me right now.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” She smoothed her dress and discretely inspected his appearance for injury. “What happened, Sweetie? I heard so many rumors…”

“Everything’s okay.” Aang ran his hands down her shoulders and arms as he spoke, trying to relieve some of the tension there. “Some rogue Ozai supporters thought they’d try to assassinate the Earth King and take over Ba Sing Se, but they were subdued pretty easily. Just some minor damage to the palace but nothing too terrible. Kuei is a little shaken, but fine. Nobody was injured. Well… maybe a couple firebenders got hurt by the rock shackles. And their pride. That was definitely hurt.” He smirked down at her. He had only outgrown her in height in the last few months, and she was still getting used to having to look up at him when they were this close.

“You’re an idiot,” she joked, rolling her eyes. She would never admit it out loud, but that cocky little attitude of his that he always had after a win made her heart flutter. She could tell he was still riding the adrenaline rush from the battle and needed an outlet. She needed one, too, frayed as her nerves were from worry, so she snaked her arms up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down to her.

“But you love me.” His eyes twinkled with something mischievous and he dipped to kiss her deeply, threading his fingers into her hair and pressing her against him once more with a hand on her back. Katara caressed the tattoo down his neck, arching into him when he shuddered.

“You’re right,” she said breathily when they finally parted. “I do love you.” She pulled him back down for a chaste kiss on the cheek, and he blushed, melting her heart all over again. She couldn’t stop smiling. They’d been together for years now but his face still reddened every time she did that, like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he said quietly, reading her subconscious worry. He leaned his forehead against hers gently, and the air was thick with their love as they stood in the entryway, door still open and forgotten. “I know it’s scary sometimes with all the attacks, but I want you to know that the thought of you keeps me going and will bring me back every time. I couldn’t do any of this without you. You’re my anchor to the world and to this life, Katara. I love you so much.”

“Aang,” she whimpered, and leaned up to kiss him again, pulling him impossibly closer. Both their faces were wet, but their hearts were full. They would always come back to each other. They were each other’s home in a world that had destroyed theirs. Each other’s tether in a life that was constantly threatened. They could find safety and comfort in that knowledge, and in each other. She pulled him fully into the apartment and shut the door, determined to take refuge from the outside world in his strong arms for a moment. An hour. A lifetime. Just them.

#kataang #kataangtag #kataang ficlet #katara #aang #atla #ficlet prompts #sweeties

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phoenixdnasty · 4 years

Text

The Problem with Season Five

this is already going to have a lot of you in the replies yelling at me. obviously, massive SPOILERS for s5 of she ra and the princesses of power if you haven't already seen it.

okay, so She Ra is definitely a kids' show, but it has a lot of themes aimed towards an older audience: abuse, war, found family, destiny and knowing who you are. I loved She Ra because it made me feel empowered, made me feel seen. after this last season, however, I don't feel the same. I will, however, talk about what it did well.

What She-Ra s5 did RIGHT

I very much enjoyed seeing the character development for most characters come to the forefront here. For example, SW returned to her original motivations. When she lived in Mystacor with the other sorcerers, her thirst for power was borne of a desire to fight the Horde. When she was rejected, then she chose to do what she did. We see a return to that in s5, where she takes a stand against Prime by enlisting Castaspella to stop her if she tries to take any power for herself. She ends up just wanting to help, to do what she can, which was excellent. Glimmer, Bow and a bunch of other characters are given some love here as well. I especially enjoyed seeing Bow and Mermista take on leadership positions in the absence of Adora; it was an excellent look into another facet of their personalities.

Character interactions in non-serious moments were, for the most part, good. Swift Wind and Scorpia being bros was not something I knew I needed but something I want more of. Netossa basically being Batman and knowing the weaknesses of everyone around her was great and an iconic scene. Bow thinking Catra was super adorable was also an excellent moment in the season and I could watch 9 more seasons worth of that. Something that surprised me was Entrapta's "not good with people"-ness being talked about and addressed by the other characters and explained by her; I wasn't sure if that was ever gonna be talked about in the show.

Side note: thank you Crew-Ra for giving Scorpia her own musical number, it was great.

Prime was also a fascinating enemy. He's this sort of religious figure, this world destroyer who's been around for seemingly centuries, maybe much longer. He's cold, calm and calculated. I've seen it pointed out that he's everything Hordak is not. He's manipulative, knows body language and facial expressions, and has a perfect grasp on how to get exactly what we wants. My favorite aspect of this season was the hive mind control. This was a very interesting plotline to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed HiveMind!Catra as well as Wrong Hordak. I loved the idea of pitting allies against each other and the angst and emotional weight that carried.

Going to use that point to segue into one of this season's strengths: Netossa and Spinnerella. Wow! We get a chance to see what a healthy queer/wlw relationship looks like, and two background characters get major upgrades in relevance. Two diversity points for one being a big girl and for the couple being interracial (in our world anyway), but diversity is the norm is SPOP and we might have to stan forever. It was extremely heartwarming and resulted in one of my favorite scenes to ever show up in animated media (one which I'll be stealing to add to my vows if I ever get married):

It was beautiful and I will absolutely never shut up about it.

There were some beautiful moments this season!! Absolutely gorgeous. A highlight for me cinematically was episode 5, which will probably bother some people when I say what I will below. I will be honest, the new transformation sequence and the scene of Adora holding Catra as She-Ra was powerful and had my heart pounding with excitement. It was awesome.

On the other hand...

What She-Ra s5 did WRONG

I'm going to break my issues with the final season down one by one, starting with the narrative of abuse.

From the very beginning, abuse is the most prevalent theme in the show. Prime (HP) abuses Hordak, Hordak abuses SW, SW abuses both Adora and Catra, and Catra abuses Adora. I liked the Crew-Ra tackling this issue. Abused people abuse people, right?

Why was everyone redeemed in s5? (Well, except for Prime, he was blasted away by She-Ra.) Hordak was given a blank slate to start over, even though he was the reason Etheria was war torn for at least a few decades; SW was given a hero's sacrifice, where at the end of her life she finally decides to do some good; and Catra is immediately forgiven for doing one good thing and all trust in placed in her simultaneously.

Hordak and H. Prime as abusers are pretty cut and dry; at no point are they ever remorseful for their actions, except for Hordak in the case of being abusive to Entrapta. SW is much more of an interesting character to analyze, because her motivations are geared directly towards herself. This seems to change in the final season, when she returns to her original motivations from back when she was in Mystacor. Defending her home. In her pursuit of the power needed to defend Etheria from the Horde, she fell into darkness. She began to abuse Adora and Catra.

One could argue that the hero's sacrifice she was given for redemption was unneeded. SW was an individual addicted to power. She was manipulative, using fake affection as a means to control. She didn't deserve a redemption. The only evidence we have of this supposed change of heart is a line to Castaspella: "...and stop me if I try to take the power for myself." Okay... so, SW, um... what changed your mind? Was it Micah? Because at no point has he forgiven you. In fact, there should've been much more hostility between the two of you (which is a point I'll address in a moment). In all honesty, the relationship between SW and Micah reminds me of what should've happened between Catra and Glimmer, or Catra and Scorpia.

And Catra... My problem with her story is that she was kinda just... forgiven? instantly. no repercussions, no long talks about feelings, no... consequences. Catra got the girl and that was it. A small list of things she did over 4 seasons, in no certain order:

Scratched what was implied were scarring marks down Adora's back

Was the cause of Angella's "death" #angelladeservedbetter

Kidnapped both Glimmer and Bow

Opened a world-ending portal all to ensure Adora failed

Also pushed Adora into what looked like an abyss

Verbally abused Scorpia into leaving

Wanted to pit Corrupted!She-Ra against her friends (dehumanization)

Got Entrapta sent to Beast Island, a deadly place no one ever returns from

And this is just the stuff off the top of my head. We all knew Catra was going to get a redemption, but this one was completely undeserved. She apologized to Adora and Entrapta. Two very short apologies for what canonly was at minimum, months of abuse, manipulation, intent to kill (which is literally mentioned by Adora) and general disregard for anyone or anything but revenge for something that didn't even deserve it. The entire cast should've been outraged. Glimmer in particular had a very big reason not to ever forgive Catra ("I'm not losing another parent!"), but it was all glossed over.

The biggest issue with season 5 was the abuse plotline completely dropped. You can't spend 4 seasons explaining how the cycle of abuse affects you and everyone around you... and shelve it. And we know the reason why it was shelved.

Let me first preface this with the fact that I am super happy we got representation. As a queer nblw who grew up feeling alone, it's so good to see things changing in media. An onscreen wlw kiss on a kids' show is groundbreaking and I'm very happy that She-Ra broke this barrier.

But all representation is not good representation. Catra and Adora is not a good representation of a healthy relationship.

Catra is shown throughout the series to be very unstable. This is even prevalent in season 5, when Adora "chooses SW" over Catra, she runs away. This breaks Adora's heart. The last thing that Catra needs is a relationship when she hasn't even confronted the issues that she has. There's no healing done in season 5, no therapy as the fandom loved to meme about, no long talks about forgiveness and the hurt caused. There's no callback to any of the pain and anguish that Catra put Adora through. Catra may love Adora, but if there is no healing done for the both of them, their relationship will fail. They will fall into the same cycle again. Adora will do something Catra doesn't like, Catra will do what she's done for all of the show, and it will repeat until something breaks.

I'm going to talk about the implications of the ending we have now, and feel free to argue with me.

She-Ra is a kids' show. Abuse is one of the main themes. Catra is shown to be an abuser. Here's what we are teaching younger audiences:

a. if you love someone enough, maybe they'll change

b. everyone deserves a second chance

c. your abuser will change as long as you're loyal and never stop trying to love them

d. things someone does to hurt you mean nothing in the wake of forgiveness

e. if someone who hurt you changes suddenly and wants to be back in your life, you should let them back in

Character interactions for the things that mattered (plot threads from previous seasons, general personality clashes, etc) were absent this season, in the moments where they mattered the most. (The best three in my opinion were Scorpia and Perfuma, the BFS inviting Catra in, and Mermista and Entrapta.) Glimmer and Adora should've had their time to talk. Scorpia should've gotten to say her piece to Catra. SW and Micah should've interacted more. Micah and Glimmer should've gotten more than an introduction!

I'm not going to get into how the entire final season was wrapped around making Catra and Adora get together (a fundamental writing no-no; it never ends up working), or how it was bad writing. I just want everyone to think critically for one moment. There are so many other glaring issues in what was, overall, a stellar show. If there was another season, or some mini episodes where the characters talk out their problems and past transgressions against each other, then I could excuse She-Ra. But I doubt we're going to get any of that. So I won't.

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gayspock · 2 years

Text

OKAY NOW

- SO as he was putting that photograph together and we coudlnt see his wife's face i was groaning- bc my first instinct was like, "god if it's helly..." bc that would be the worst and most boring possibility BUT OFC that makes no sense, bc not only did he see her in ep 1 but like just... that doesnt FIT whatsoever

- so then my brains going through all the other possibilities (all the women, confusedly) and im going to admit i didnt think of miss casey until right before the reveal despite the fact shes the only one who makes sense and ough. bjeautifully landed - at least it was for me- where it clicked RIGHT before it happened, happened so when it did it was like oh a little kiss....

- but OMG OMG OMG OMG IM SO EXCITED IM SO READY TO KNOW MORE ABOUT HER. :3 BC I SAID I WANTED TO LEARN MORE ABT HER CHARACTER AND WHATNOT AND- well she MUST be like... full yintegrated into there and that also explains why she's slightly off. or something or other. i truly am not so sure.

- though that being said- though i am ssooo excited to know more of miss casey im also a little . hmmm. UNSURE of what this will have in store for us <3 idk- idk im a little fuzzy brained rn...

- like i do HOPE that this will properly explain why mark is getting spied on so much, and the others don't, if there's some sort of other connecting factor there... and there is, like, reasons behind it all. i have my faith; i want to believe that is the case. but again! i feel a little sad to say, you know- a lot of tv... DOES sort of make me expect, like, twists like this occur just to connect things for the sake of complications sake and nothing more, and i hope thats not it you know!!!!!! does that make sense? but, like- if this was something kind of set out nicely from the beginning and there was due intention.. >:3 nice...

- but also it does, like, touch upon the whole romance thing with mark. i hope they deal with it cleanly, you know? like- granted... god knows what state gemma/ms casey is in. but yeah. i said what i said; im starting to like helly and mark even less, because it just feels so unnecessary to me and like a default sort of "UHHH, TWO MAIN LEADS ARE MAN AND WOMAN- PAIR EM UP!" when we already have potential with both alexa and with gemma who i think are a more interesting storyline between them and, like, that's complicated enough and i'd prefer them develop that properly.

- like alexa in general i do hope she isnt getting dropped. i have some feelings- i know theres some theories floating abt (i havent been looking at anything intently- just glanced at a thread or two) specifically about how she recc'd cobel to mark's sister, and hmmm. its possible she is tied into things somehow and i dont know HOW i feel about that actually. i think i prefer for that not to be the case in terms of what i'd want to see from her going forward. but i still... want to see her going forward? like it feels a shame to bring her in, then to end her here- like her one purpose, again, was just to sort of give outie mark some sort of .... dynamic to tide him over. its disappointing, yeah? feels untidy in a show like this. i'll ramble abtthat more later though bc again myheads fuzzy and also like

- BURT. AND IRVING. (SCREAMS AND THROWS UP) . THIS IS SICK. ITS LITERALLY SICK THAT THEYD DO THAT TO US. also im mad for literally how irving is down SO badly for him.... risking it fucking all. go mad girlie.

- also dylan . i said what i said before but that whole scene holy fuck- AND i said it last time, im so glad that theyre giving dylan a storyline here of his own that, like, develops who he is with the show without changing his presence in the group :3 WHICH IS A SICK THING TO SAY THAT MAN IS ALL FUCKED UP AND BENT OUT SILLY RIGHT NOW THE WAY HE LITERALLY- BIT HIM HELP HELP HELP HELPH RLP IM OBSESSED..........

- ANYWAY i'll prolly have better thoughts later lalalala just dumping these love and kisses

#Egg.txt #severance liveblog #severance spoilers

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years

Note

Oh lore?? I read your post on Dainsleif and BOY it gave me a lot to think about dsfjgkd

Along the same vein, what do you think of the relationship between the unknown god and Kaenri'ah? In Albedo's trailer they seemed to reference two new elements (time and being) and if perhaps the unknown god is the god of time, then does Khemia make use of "being" in its creation of life?

In Mihoyo's other game (honkai) they introduced a new "type" about halfway through the story which seems to me to be similar to the abyss in Genshin. The quanta type is independent of the three types that were present from the beginning of the game and it's tied to an abyss style region called the Sea of Quanta. Maybe I'm reading too much into it and they don't plan to imitate what they did in Honkai but?? Time and being as new "elements" introduced a few years into the game seems possible at least?? Maybe they're exclusive to delusions bc there's only the seven Archons at this time so no one can grant time/being visions lol

Djfkdj I hope this was at least slightly understandable I love looking into lore especially for things I write about!! I'll end this now before it gets too long lmao the new tumblr asks give me too much power XD

TUMBLR DELETED MY REPLY AHHHHH I HAD TO RE-WRITE EVERYTHING. THAT’S WHY I’M LATE TO THE PARTY. I’M SO SORRY CATTY 😭

---

Major spoilers for Khaenri’ah and minor spoilers for the unknown god

:DD I’m glad you read my word vomit haha. I love talking about lore so much, ty for enabling me.

What do you think of the relationship between the unknown god and Khaenri’ah?

The logical side of my brain thinks:

They either have nothing to do with each other and Mihoyo really likes using the same star for everything and Khaenri’ah just happens to live in the void or sky so the easiest way to distinguish citizens from there is the star (or it was just hot to put star pupils in and you know what, they were right).

Or there’s some sort of connection between the Eclipse dynasty that ruined Khaenri’ah and the unknown god. Since genshin really likes to do that (see Zhongli and everyone calling him Morax before 1.1 dropped).

Re-watching the prologue cutscene and “we will be reunited” (Gonna refer to this a WWBR) Aether drew the same two stars into the sand which makes me believe that either a. stars literally have nothing to do with anything and Teyvat only knows how to draw one star (which doesn’t hold up well considering Mona’s outfit and pin) or b. there’s some kind of connection there. The way Paimon phrases her question she says:

“But when you wanted to leave and go onto the next world your path was blocked by an unknown god?”

It implies that Aether and Lumine have already travelled through Teyvat since we see two yellow stars travel over Liyue and Mondstadt. I know Aether was sent into some sort of deep sleep and only now awoke and met Paimon (since in the trailer we can see the lantern festival and the genshin upload was in march (chinese new year is in feb) but I’m not super sure on these details but I’m pretty sure it’s canon that this happened based on WWBR).

Then when the unknown god appears and the same 3 red stars appear [tumblr throws a fit when I try and upload this]

She refers to us as Outlanders and calls herself

“The sustainer of heavenly principles. The arrogation of mankind ends now.”

This could be a reference to “being” that was in the Albedo trailer while Dainsleif is “time” since time is "not something he lacks". If we’re going on the theory that Dainsleif is actually a god then maybe they are fighting? Or in some type of push and pull war. It would make sense since the Unknown God believes in heavenly principles (so the rules either set by Celestia or Gods themselves) and believes mankind is arrogant and wishes to either destroy it or remove it entirely. The complete opposite of Dainsleif who believes in mankind and hates anything relating to the Archons.

Or dainsleif has nothing to do with the unknown god and is just a final challenge to the player who will then face off against the Unknown God.

In Albedo's trailer they seemed to reference two new elements (time and being) and if perhaps the unknown god is the god of time, then does Khemia make use of "being" in its creation of life?

In this theory, this would make the Unknown God the god of time, which is also equally as valid. Since she does talk about time and how the arrogation of mankind ends now. I think it’s right to assume that Khemia makes use of being in its creation of life since we see Albedo talk about chalk and turning things from “nothing” (it’s not really nothing, he’s still using something or the “being” in order to transform it) to something.

If Dainsleif uses Khemia or even created it then taught it to the people of Khaenri’ah to help them survive in their archonless land, that could be a valid reason why he believes in the strength of mankind. Since the unknown god’s power seems to consume the person trapped within (as we see in the prologue). Plus in WWBR we see first hand how destructive that power is. This could also be the time where Dainsleif lost faith or hated the celestial beings.

---

In WWBR, according to the wiki it states that our sibling was taken to another point in time, in an unknown location. But this event leads the sibling (Lumine) to become the leader of the Abyss Order.

Lumine says:

“But until the abyss has engulfed the thrones, my war with destiny will see no end.”

Lumine seems to know about the archons and the abyss mages follow her so it’s safe to assume that the “abyss” she refers to is either something entirely new or the red blocks we see here. It seems as if she’s trying to change destiny which could be why Dainsleif wants to save her.

I will say right now, I really hope the theory that Paimon is secretly the unknown god doesn’t come true. I know it’s funny and I would enjoy seeing our emergency food pull a turned table on us but unless there are more instances where it’s hinted or it’s handled really well I would not like it. I just finished a manga and I felt like I was watching 20M plot twists happen in the span of 3 pages. I would totally be okay if the unknown god and paimon were somehow related (I can understand that) but I unless it’s handed really well or as the story progresses and we get more info on paimon. it would just be really out of left field. I haven’t seen any theories on this and I honestly try and stay away from lore posts until I’ve finished mine because I feel that might make my ideas biased.

The “everything must be connected into some kind of plotline or I will make it a plotline” brain thinks:

Now, this is just be spit balling and making up my own headcanons with no lore to go off on. This is pure indulgent stuff with no research to back it up besides very loose threads.

I’d like to believe that since the Eclipse Dynasty was the last dynasty before Khaenri’ah fell. That might be what is being depicting above in WWBR. Perhaps khemia backfired or the unknown god turned against the people for their arrogance (I’m not sure if people know the myth but in short terms, a giant stole fire to help the people who were cold. He was punished for going against the gods and saving the people, this could be similar to Dainsleif).

Perhaps Lumine and Aether had stopped this event from happening and as they were about to leave, the unknown god appears and separates them for their arrogant actions against the Gods and sends Lumine back to the past. Without her brother she ended up failing in saving Khaenri’ah. Or, the image we see is actually the future and she goes back in time to try and prevent that event from occurring, still trying to beat destiny but this time in the future.

Or another idea, Lumine has only seen the evil that’s depicted and hasn’t personally met any of the archons. We actually got to meet Venti and Zhongli so we obviously want to protect them from Lumine’s point of view, that might not be the same so she aligns with the abyss order that tries to control Dvalin. So her goal is to somehow defeat the archons and that could be why the Cyro archon is trying to collect them all in her war of peace.

Honkai and quanta

It’s kinda funny but there’s no reliable wiki source for this sea of quanta like there is for genshin, or at least I couldn’t find anything. I think they might nod at certain things between the two but I think it’s totally fine to believe they might do some sort of crossover and take some inspiration. We have Mona who was able to read the stars and Scaramouche who said the sky was a giant hoax so I think time and being becoming new elements is very possible. But I don’t really know a lot about Honkai so I can’t really say too much about it haha.

---

Yep no worries, it was fun talking about some more lore and if you have any more I’d love to hear them. Haha, honestly pop off I love getting long asks. As always, it’s nice seeing you again catty 💕💕

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin lore #genshin impact lore #genshin spoilers #genshin impact spoilers #genshin theory #genshin impact theory #genshin dainsleif #genshin impact dainsleif #genshin unknown god #genshin impact unknown god #dainsleif #genshin khaenri'ah #genshin lumine #genshin aether #genshin impact lumine #genshin impact aether #lumine

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 4 years

Text

Firelight

Gerlion Rated T and up for minor swearing and minor nudity.

Also, I'm sorry I'm bad at technology and I've only got mobile and they updated it and I dont know/can't figure out how to put a read more break in.

Geralt and Dandelion reunite after a long time apart. Its fluff, complete fluff. They're so soft with one another.

This lovely piece was inspired by art created by @johix with permission I'll figure out how to link it. But I recommend checking out all the art.

It had been nearly nine months since he last saw his bard. It wasn't unusual for their paths to cross and diverge like the threads of a tapestry twinning around one another; close but never consistantly together. Dandelion was often called away to court, to Oxenfurt, or some festivity or other and he always went where he was wanted. Geralt never stopped him; though he often wanted to reach out, grab a slender and deceivingly muscled arm and say, "stay you're wanted here more than they want you anywhere else." But his lips stayed stubbornly shut as he watched the blond ride away on his muleish stead. He would turn his back and tend to the nearest contracts he could find. At first he'd been glad for the others departures, now they left him aching in a way he feared to define. So he would focus on his work, on the Path and push all thoughts of the Bard away until he was alone with inky night and moonlight for company. Then and only then he would wonder what his friend was doing.

This year he had been eager to get back on the path and left the keep far to early. The others had warned him but he was restless, concerned even. He hadn't heard anything from the bard in the three months leading into winter. It was May now. Summer had yet to grace the continent and snow continued to stick stubbornly to her. He hadn't made it to town, and that was okay. He was freezing but he'd dealt with worse. He stoked the fire up and leaned against the tree behind him. He flexed his fingers in his gloves to keep them from growing stiff.

He knows he should have found a cave or some other shelter but he'd been loath to leave the road. The more time he spent on it the more likely he was to run into Dandelion. Instead he began to meditate and wrinkled his nose at the scent of rain permeating the air. He hoped it would hold off until the morrow. He didn't mind rain when he didn't need to be out in the path. Meaning, he liked the rain if he was cooped up in an inn with Dandelion. He always tried to keep him from getting sick, despite the need to be on the oath. But tonight he wasn't in an inn with Dandelion. He was in forest clearing bustled against a dry spot beneath a tree with snow and ice all around him. The thought of being at a warm inn with his musician made his chest ache desperately. Slowly he managed to meditate. Meditation turned to sleep as soon as he chose to lie down in his bed roll. Roach shifted to his left to keep herself warm but never went far.

He woke cold and stiff to blue grey light. If he were a normal human and not so fucking cold he'd have probably rolled over and gone back to sleep. But instead he was a witcher and rain scented heavier on the air. That alone is enough to incline him to get a move on with the day. Carefully he stood rolling his joints, they cracked and popped at the movement sore from the last hunt and the cold. He breathed through his nose and set about feeding Roach. Then he turned to begin gathering his supplies. His heart jumped in his chest at the sound of distant music. There was a troupe, if the noise was anything to go by, traveling up the road. They were a ways off and he couldn't make out individual instruments yet. The music was to far away. Still, he forced himself to slow and methodically work through packing everything up at a more subdued pace. He had no way of knowing if Dandelion was with them, but he hoped he was. It was safer for the trabedour to travel with a group and more to his and the bards liking as well.

Satisfied that the group would catch up if he kept Roach to a walk he rejoined the road. This way he would be far enough ahead not to bother them, and close enough that if Dandelion was with them he'd be able to see him. He kept Roach at a careful pace and she seemed content to meander. His coin purse was currently full at his side, and the season was early. He could dally a little. Still he wondered at the futility. It would have been better to write to Oxenfurt or go himself. They would know where to find the poet. He listened as the music drew closer. There were several lutist. Which he could say wasn't uncommon as it was one of the preferred bardic instruments. He strained his ears none the less, Toruviels lute had a specific sound and he was well aquanited with it. He smiled and forced himself not to turn back towards the musicians. He was a witcher, he'd scare them off. He slowed Roach as much as possible. And then he heard it, the stutter of a chord gone off tune and forgotten. They way it would if he complimented the musician while he was playing. He always made the best faces.

"Geralt." He kept Roach moving, gripping the reigns hard in anticipation. Then he heard the murmurs of surprise as Dandelion ran ahead and called out,

"Geralt of Rivia, you gigantic oaf, I know you can hear me!" The indignant tone of Dandelions voice pulled him over the edge of his little game and he stopped. His heart beating a little faster, a little stronger than it ought, as it always did around the poet. He dismounted his horse and held out one hand to give or receive a hug. Something he was growing accustomed to doing with Dandelion. The bard rushed forward unabashed and wrapped his arms, one hand still holding his lute firmly, around Geralt and squeezing with all his strength. Geralt returned the favor, one armed, the other still outstretched to hold Roaches reigns.

The hug lasted longer than it ought to have, and then some. When they finally came apart Geralt raised an eyebrow and absently reached a hand out to brush shoulder length blond curls. He smiled softly amusement curling in his stomach with something far more dangerous.

"What are these?"

"Curls Geralt. You've seen them before."

Dandelion notes with brightness in his eyes. Geralt is being very tender he thinks as he flicks his eyes to the hand still in his hair.

"I know. But I've never seen them on you before. Nobles. Whores. The like."

Geralt says simply and something like sadness tugs at Dandelions heart. He was prepared with a quip but it slips from his tongue and instead he whispers out a breathy,

"You don't like it."

He looks to the ground, body language changing. Geralt smells the acrid scent of disappointment on him almost instantly. Even if he hadn't he'd have realized his mistake. He brushes his hand down and catches the lutists chin pushing it up and then dropping his hand to his shoulder. They have an audience.

"That's not what I said, nor is it what I meant, Dandelion. Introduce us?"

The poets meets his eyes and blinks. Right. Okay. He smiles,

"There isn't much to be said in introduction. I only met this lovely group last night. I don't even know all their names yet."

A short brunette in bright colors hands him his geldings reigns. They know he won't be continuing with them.

The brunette nods to Geralt and speaks softly,

"It was a pleasure to play music with you master Dandelion."

And with that the group turns down the path to the right. Geralt must have worked hard to time it so he'd be seen before they had a chance to turn down the other path. Though Dandelion would not have gone that way anyways.

Geralt looks him up and down again and and he flushes under the scrutiny and then speaks through a genuine smile.

"What is that on your face?"

He nearly reaches up to brush his hands against the white beard. He refrains barely as Geralt does it himself. He's fairly certain the man had forgotten all about it.

"Left the keep early this year. It's warmer like this."

Then he watches Geralt glare at the sky and take a deep breath.

"You'll want to put that in it's case. Smells like rain."

Dandelion moves quickly to follow his instruction and nearly jumps when thunder claps across the mountain range. He shivers and mounts Pegasus.

"Where to?"

Gerlat hesitates a moment. He shouldn't be caught off gaurde but he is. It's always this easy with Dandelion. Easy in a way it has never been with Yennefer, or with anyone else. It's natural almost to the point of being dangerous. He knows that Dandelions will follow him anywhere. Hen wont ask questions, but will walk beside him loyal and true.It eases something in his heart to see the other man beside him again. He settles something in him the way Yennefer never did. He realizes Dandelion is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

"That glad to see me?"

He swallows and clears his throat ignoring the second question.

"There is a village up ahead. If you're mule moves fast enough we may make it before the rain gets bad."

Dandelion laughs and the remnants of tension in him depart. They ride in companionable silence for a while before he asks,

"What are you doing all the way out here? The roads and weather are hardly fit for traveling, even for me."

He glances over and meets pools of bright blue sky. The poet is quiet for some time and it's only broken by the wind picking up around them and whispering through the woods as boughs bend beneath its force. The rain comes next and Dandelion finally speaks. Geralt remains facing forward carefully neutral.

"I hadn't heard anything about you in months. I had no idea if you even made it to Kaer Morhen. So, I thought to myself, Dandelion if you get closer to the keep you might hear something. Now, here I am hoping to find out if you're still alive. Figured being close would increase my chances of running into you too. And I suppose it worked."

He seems almost embarrassed Geralt thinks. Only embarrassment isn't an emotion he's ever seen on the musician. He was shameless and full of mirth. He felt deeply, certainly had had bouts of sorrow at times. But embarrassment… no this had to be something else. He seemed sombre. Almost sad as he fell into a silence that meant his thoughts had hold of him. Geralt shook his head, grateful when Dandelion did not ask him the same. Unfortunately he fell unusually quiet, normally he would grumble or speak his thoughts allowed. The silence upset him and he could sense the poet growing morose and gave him some space until he noted the bards teeth chattering. He looked miserable, lips pushed together to keep his teeth from chattering, curls gone limp with the rain. His fingers were probably just as cold as Geralts own. He slowed Roach.

"Wheres your cloak?"

" Forgot to pull it out of my bag."

He laughs. Gerlat could kick himself for not reminding the bard, but then, he was a grown man. Still the thought of him sick…. Absently he removed his outer cloak and handed it over. It wouldn't do to much now but it was a kind gesture none-the-less.

"Geralt, no sense in both of us being cold."

He simply cast Dandelion a withering glance and the trabedour smiled as he took the cloak. Geralt returned to his normal speed and missed the way Dandelion smiled into the fur and breathed deep. He almost missed the whispered "thank you" as well, but the wind carried it to his ears and he held it close.

By the time they passed through the archway of a sleepy little village he didn't know the name of, Dandelion was shivering from the cold. It had started as a thunderstorm and quickly devolved into a snowstorm. And while he had already been soaked through he was grateful for Gerlat's cloak around him. Though he was sorry too. He knew how cold Geralt often got, likely from having a slower heart rate.

They made their way with practiced ease to the local inn. Dandelion watched in slight awe as Geralt made arrangements with the matron. She had known his name, no one had so much as even batted an eye at the witcher. He shivered and tried to focus on keeping his feet warm.

The matron knew the witchers who passed this way every spring and winter. She'd been quiet young when Geralt had first met her, now she was a mother who had aged kindly.

"I'll have the boys tend to your horses. Jason's getting a fire going for you. He'll bring up some more wood in a bit."

As if on queue, summoned by his name, he came around the corner of the desk and nodded at her before heading out the back door. She smiled and handed Geralt the key. "Go on go get warm before your friend catches a cold "

"Thank you."

He handed the key to Jaskier who moved quickly forgetting his bag in his rush to get himself and his lute dry. Geralt smiled a toothy grin and shook his head shifting his own bags to gather Dandelions.

"Oh dear, I had better ask, will you be going out for supper or shall I bring some up when it's ready?"

" If it wouldn't be any trouble. And maybe a demijohn?"

She winked,

"Vodka?"

"Please."

"No problem, off you go. He's waiting."

He would have blushed if his biology allowed it. There was something about the way she looked between them and spoke that made Geralt feel vulnerable.

He followed damp footprints to their room and stepped in the door left slightly ajar. Dandelion had already hung his cloak up and stripped out of his shirt and boots, and was currently putting his lute on the chair a good distance from the fire to draw out any moisture.

"Finally Geralt! I was half naked before I realized I forgot them. And the fire was so nice I couldn't bare to go back and get them. What kept you?"

He stepped back as the bard reached for his bags and started removing his armor. He shook his head,

"Supper arrangments." He says simply.

"Then were staying in?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" He watches the musician swap a change of clothes for his night clothes.

Although he was fairly dry beneath his armor and cloak Geralt was freezing. He removed his boots and looked up only to freeze. Breath stilling in his lungs as he swallowed tightly. He followed bare leg, muscled and lean, from floor to hip, over the curve of the poets ass, over the dip of his back and up the curve of his shoulders. He let out a breath and pointedly averted his eyes. His armor needed cleaning, he was sure of it.

He hadn't thought it possible to make Geralt uncomfortable at this point. But what he'd seen out of the corner of his eye told him otherwise. Though he'd only caught him looking away. He could have looked for a moment, or minutes he'd never know. Slowly he dressed in his sleepwear. The fire had been nice against his skin and he hadn't wanted to dress damp. You got sick when you did that. He dried his hair out with a thin towel from his pack. He'd need to replace that. He made his way back over to Geralt as he pulled his shirt on.

"The fire is nice." He says gently as he sits beside him. Geralt looks up at him from his armor and nods. They stare at one another for a moment then Geralt speaks.

"You seemed upset earlier. Was it just the weather?"

Oh. He wants to lie but he would never. Besides, Geralt can read him like a book, never mind the enhanced witcher senses. He'd never stand a chance. Instead he looks away, towards the crackling fire and let's silence reign while he thinks through what he means to say. The truth but not all of it. Just enough. The only noise is the wind rustling the shutters against the walls and the gentle crackling of the fire.

"I wouldn't know." He starts voice gentle and far away. "If you died. I wouldn't know. And if I ever did find out it would be from some rumor in a tavern passed through far to many drunken mouths to hold much truth. There's no one to tell me if you die while I'm not there Geralt. And that… scares me a little. I worry for you and it would pain me to never know or to find out so late. And know that I'll never know the truth of what happened." He looks to the witcher now and meets molten sun with ocean depths.

"But," he continues, "we're both here now. No sense in dwelling on something like that."

Something shifts in Geralts face like he wants to argue. He's already working out some way to change the topic so he doesn't give himself away. He loves the man next to him that's why it scares him. The knock comes loudly from the door and he moves to open it grateful for the matrons timing.

He smiles and opens the door wide.

"Thank you." He says to both the matron and her husband as he drops wood near the hearth and she places supper and a flagon of something on the table.

"No problem. Enjoy, its roast." With that they leave them to their dinner and Dandelion is grateful for the distraction. Geralt joins him at the table but neither speaks.

Geralt presses his lips together. What Dandelion said nearly ruins his appetite. He won't press but it makes his gut twist to think of the pain his friend would be in. The agony of not knowing. Though those same thoughts run through his head when he doesn't keep them in check. He knows if anything happens to his poet there would be hell to pay. He shakes his head and focuses instead on eating. The quiet of the room is unsetteling. They should be talking, reminiscing about their time apart and it's almost grating that he can't move past the last conversation. But then Dandelion uncorks the vodka and pours them both a generous amount. He hands a cup to Geralt and raises his own.

"To reunions." Geralt smiles and clinks their glasses together. Grateful that they're falling into their rhythm.

Dandelion asks how the winter went and Geralt sighs. It's always the same. His brothers are great but he always find himself missing his poets softness and sound. He wont say this of course. He wont say he lays awake wondering what he's doing in Oxenfurt. Who hes with. If hes happy. He won't admit that loneliness creeps in on him when they're apart, that he misses pulling the bard close to his chest when they sleep.

Instead he tells him that they repaired the battlements, the walls, the stables. That Vesimir had made them clean and catalogue the library. The library he knows Dandelion wants to see and would have to be forcably removed from and he knows that the poets only joking when he says "you'll have to show me one day" but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to grab him by the wrist and take him there. He talks of training and running the trail with Lambert and Eskel like they did when they were young.

"And what of you Dandelion? How was your winter?" The musician smiles and takes a drink straight from the bottle.

"Boring Geralt. This bach of students don't care. They have no heart and less inspiration. It's like they're only there to please their parents or something. To mingle. They don't care about learning what the truth behind folk tales are or why they're wrong. The composition courses are a bit better I suppose," another drink, his face flushes pink in the flickering light of the fire," at least they can make things rhyme even if it's meaningless. And it was so lonely Geralt. I missed traveling. I know it's better for my purse, retirement, and the like to work straight in the winter and travel in the summer months but honestly, I regret it this winter. Not that I could have traveled much alone."

He's rambeling now and Geralt loves it. Loves listening to him talk about nothing and everything. The way his face goes soft and his eyes grow bright and he can only be described as whimsical. How his voice dances always lulling and pulling him in. He takes the vodka and drinks a long pull from the bottle, he shouldn't let Dandelion have much more if they want to start out early. Though if the storm keeps up they might be stuck a few days.

He acknowledges the ard with a soft hum as he gets up to stoke the fire and add a few logs. It's gotten late. He makes his way back towards the bed and brushes his hand down the poets shoulder and his arm before passing on. He crawls to the far side of the bed and waits wondering if he'll understand the invitation and join him or take the other bed. He hopes that the Dandelion understood the gesture. The poet stands and looks at him.

Dandelion takes a breath to steady himself. There are two beds and he desperately wants to join Geralt, help him stay warm, bury his face against his chest, breath in leather and earth and musk. He blinks looking at Geralt for any sign of what he's supposed to do and just as its growing uncomfortable long in his slightly tipsy mind Geralt reaches out and hand and he knows he's wanted.

"It's cold."

Geralt offers quietly as he shuffles under the blankets next to him. He needn't have bothered Dandelion doesn't need an excuse. But if it makes him feel more comfortable he'll roll with it even as it feel like lead on his chest. He rolls onto his side and buries his face into the blankets between them. The bed is small for two but they'll make it work, they always do. He watches as Geralt lounges beside him thinking about how beautiful he is with shadows dancing against his skin as hes bathed in firelight alone. Then Geralt sits up so abruptly and swallows so that Dandelion joins him instantly.

"Is everything alright Geralt?"

"Yes. Just. Don't move."

And he laughs gently, breath coming out calmer now. He catches the way Geralts throat bobs as he swallows and the shadows dance across his throat. He both wants to kiss it and compose about it. Instead he shifts a leg underneath himself and leaves the other outstretched. He's not sure what's going on but he will do as told. But then Geralt moves and lays his head in his lap and when he looks down comatose pools of cooling gold meet his own cobalt depths and his breath catches. He stutters in another one and then smiles fondly. Geralts eyes flutter shut and he can't help himself as he places a hand in white hair and runs his fingers through it. He's certain it's been months since he had physical contact that wasn't violent.

He doesn't hum or sing. This moment is precious. It will be locked in his heart, witnessed only by the firefight and remembered in the lonliest of winter nights. But then Geralt looks at him again so he smiles softly and starts to open his mouth but theres a hand in limp gold locks by his face and he stops. Heart rate picking up, but not in fear and distantly he knows Geralt knows the ways he's affecting him. But he makes no move to pull away even as the calloused hand in his hair moves up to cup the back of his head and pull him down. Instead he closes his eyes and smiles. The kiss is everything he imagined it would be and then some.

#geraskier #gerlion #firelight #fanfiction #was going to add a read more link but im bad at technology and the update is making it worse #fluff #domestic fluff #soft bois #romance

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vanchlo · 3 years

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The Partner / Chapter Twelve, "The Resolute"

Word Count: 8.4k / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Hold Me While You Wait by Lewis Capaldi (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage

"I never know when I will miss you. I can't ever predict just what will grip my heart with the reminder that you are gone. It could be anything. Anytime. Anywhere. You are everywhere and nowhere all at once. When the days are bright, I am blinded by your presence and even when the world is dark I still manage to find you. In laughter, I hear the echo of losing you. Your presence is overflowing in the tears that fall. Now that your body is gone, everything holds your being. I miss you in the cold depths of winter and I long for you in the thick summer breeze. You are my first rising thought in the morning and my last notion as I sink into the heaviness of the night. I thought we ran out of moments together, but every moment seems to belong to you. How can you be everywhere when you are nowhere to be seen? I used to worry about facing the world because I didn't know what would trigger my heartache. I used to be afraid of every feeling, every memory, every moment because I didn't know which ones held you. Now I know you are everywhere and I think that I know why. You're everywhere because you're somewhere inside of who I am. I am the bearer of your life and your memory. I am the keeper of your existence. Even though you're gone, I never really have to search for you. I never know where I'll find you but you are always there. I never know when I will miss you and it happens all the time"

- Rachel Whalen

I had lost count of how many times I had fallen back asleep since he had left for another day of work, the second time in the last few days. I’d be telling a lie if I said that I didn’t miss him, because like he’d confessed when he thought I was sleeping, I missed him all of the time too. The difference was that I felt it now when he was gone. I wasn’t sure why I’d bitten his head off that night about going back to work. I did but couldn’t think about it after the way he broke down in front of me and I just stood there. I didn’t do a thing. Instead, I shook my head and pushed him away. God, how could I do that to him? I thought he’d moved on . . . That’s how it went. I’d wake up to an empty, cold bed and the guilt would come in crashing waves. The hot tears would follow and eventually, I’d fall back into another fitful sleep. Nightmares were almost always guaranteed, but for the first time in our relationship, I comforted myself back to sleep. Somehow, they didn’t wake him like before, but last night when he woke with a gasp that melted into tears, I think I knew because he was busy with his own.

At first, I thought I’d been imagining it, or maybe that was just my coping mechanism by now. Denial and pretending. No, it really was and it went around like a circle. Denying the denial. But when the knocking on the door turned into the dinging of the doorbell, I knew that it was real. It didn’t stop after a few times, like the mailman would. No, this person was persistent, and I definitely was not. I couldn’t even find the strength to move to look at the alarm clock to see the time. By then, it had stopped. He’d only been gone an hour now and I missed him deeply, finding it hard to not pick up the phone to ask him to come home. I did but in my own way, and not one he’d understand, despite how he knew every page of my book.

I hope work is going well

Only a few minutes passed before a reply came in with a silent vibration.

thanks it is, just meetings again and an interview

Sounds boring. I know how you hate both. New hire?

possibly. i forgot to tell u gwen left. i hope ur getting some rest

No, you hadn’t but that’s ok. I think I only talked to her like 5 times. I’m trying.

ya she was good, just kept 2 herself. want me 2 pick up anything for lunch? anything soundin good? Starbucks? pizza? u can have whatever u want

You can pick

At that, I heard my phone lock before placing it face down onto the bedside table, not able to continue a conversation about food any longer. Another wave of irrational tears came at missing him and wanting normalcy back, but the fitful sleep didn’t follow. I wasn’t sure if I was regretful or not when I peeled back the covers, shocked by the sudden cold.

The chilling silence filling the house hit me in the face when I stepped out into the hallway. It had been choking at times, mostly at night when things were at their worst. During the day, like now, it was never this quiet. Something on the tv was always playing, and I soon found myself in front of it, watching the end of a Marvel movie Harry and I once watched.

Its sequel was nearing the halfway point by the time the doorbell rang again. It was on its fourth time now and the person still hadn’t stopped. The surprise on their face was just as strong as that of mine when I found myself at the door, in front of Harry’s grandmother.

“Hi, Becky,” she said softly, a warm cadence to her words like always. I may have been biased towards grandmas, but Harry’s checked all of the points and more. I couldn’t help the squeeze of my heart at the mere sight of her, a melancholy smile spreading on her lips.

“Claire. Um, hi. Harry isn’t here right now, he had to go into work this morning,” I rush, unsure of why I’m telling her this, except for I know why. I hadn’t spoken to another human being that wasn’t Harry or my doctor since . . since it had happened. Sure, texts to Skye, my dad, and Robbie. It was the only way to placate them from telling them I didn’t want to see them. Can I blame them, though?

“Oh, that’s okay. I was uh, hoping I could come in,” she suggests. I stand there, taken aback by her request. I had come to love this woman like she was my own grandmother, and yet here I am, not opening the door for her. “Maybe we could wait for him together with some brookies.”

Dropping my eyes, I watch as she lifts a saran wrapped plate of chocolatey looking cookies. I didn’t need to look any longer to know what they were. Her famous brownie cookies that Harry had compared any cookie or brownie of mine to over the years, and I eventually had found out why.

“You know I can’t turn those down,” I mumble, feeling the first hints of a smile. She grins for me instead, following me into the house that somehow feels even emptier when we step inside. Awkwardly, I closed the door behind her, pulling my hands back into the oversized King’s College crewneck of Harry’s I’d stolen long ago. “Can I . . Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Tea?” I stumble, watching as she takes a seat at the island, setting down one of those cloth bags beside her.

“Coffee would be fine, honey,” she says, and always with a smile. I welcome the distraction, feeling as if I’d forgotten how to talk to another person. No, I know that I have. I hadn’t even been able to carry on a conversation with Harry, nonetheless his grandmother.

At times, I still felt uncomfortable around his parents, especially his dad. If there was one of them that I felt the easiest around, it was Claire. I’m reminded of the bouquet of black eyed susans probably now wilting on the table when she notes the array of flowers taking up space over there. I nod at her words while closing the lid of the instant coffee machine, placing a tall mug underneath the spout. The compassionate words scribbled in her cursive with its accompanying card come back to me, and suddenly, the steaming coffee grows blurry before my eyes. Sometimes, I wondered if she had a feeling about things like me, because as the first tear fell, she speaks an apology.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I had let Harry know I was in town and would stop by today, but he must have forgotten to mention it to you,” she begins in a low volume, a Harry-like molasses shining in her voice. I mumble an ‘it’s okay’ while watching the coffee continue to fill the mug. It’s almost done, but then what will I do to distract myself? “Harry had said your fridge was quite full, but I couldn’t help but make a few of your favorites to bring you both. Times like these, cooking feels like the last thing you want to do.”

“A lot of things do,” I find myself saying, surprising her I’m sure and especially myself. I hadn’t even been able to find it in myself to put that feeling into words and say them to Harry. It was a blessing and a curse how we could read each other so well, but I know I’d closed myself off from him a long time ago. On accident and then, on purpose.

Ripples form across the surface of the liquid as the last few drops plummet into the dark abyss. I wait, staring at the steam rising from the mug, unsure as to why. A silence had embedded itself into these walls so long ago I couldn’t remember, and it sat between us now too. I still didn’t know how to broach it, and there was no nudging the switch that would let me talk about her. I truly didn’t know how to, not even to her father. Sometimes, I wanted to forget her so I’d stop hurting, but that felt like an impossibility and then a crime. Gulping, I wipe at my cheeks and thread my fingers through the ceramic handle.

“Those are a beautiful assortment of flowers,” she comments again when I set the drink down in front of her. A forced ‘thank you’ leaves my lips when I turn around and walk towards the fridge. “You and Harry are so loved, and so was your baby.”

I’d opened this fridge how many times over the years, and now as the handle sits in my palm, I can’t find it in myself to do it. The forgotten coupons, lists, photographs, drawings from Harper and Ollie, and magnets grew hazy before my eyes. The hum of the coffee machine cooling down wasn’t enough to mask the whimper that escaped my lips, no matter how desperately I tried to shove it down. After breathing in and out a few times, it still didn’t help, but I was able to open the door and grab what I’d needed.

Keeping my head down, I set the coffee creamer in front of her, not spending a second more facing her with the damage on my cheeks. As the spoon clinks against the sides of her mug, I distract myself by finding room in the fridge for the filled tupperware containers she’d taken from the bag. Scribbled labels adorn the top of each one, but I look past them as I stack them on a shelf. From the corner of my eye, I saw her stand from her seat to look at the flowers, thumbing at the typed messages. It’s not until the last one is snug against a container of yogurt and strawberries that somebody says something.

“They always say the same things, don’t they?” she murmurs with an out of place scoff, sounding like a hum from her lips. The tears had dried up as I thought about how to fit a container of beef stroganoff amongst tater tot casserole, but when I turned around, her face still falls. “It was the same with Steven too. They all say that they understand, but there’s no way that they can. They hadn’t lost their spouse, or . . their baby.” This roots me to the spot and we spend the next few moments looking at each other as her Soft Rose lipsticked lips fall.

“I didn’t want to come, Becky, because I know that when I lost my loves, I wanted to be alone. But that was where my demons lied in wait, and I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did when I lost my baby,” she continues. I couldn’t tell if it was the light or the way my eyes deceive me with a returning wetness, but a similar glint appears in hers. It holds my attention for a mere moment until my heart starts to pound against my ribs. “Steven and I were a little younger than you and Harry when we lost our baby at four months.”

There could be no saving my throat nor my eyes as I gulp against the dryness, feeling all of the wetness detour down my face. Her words ricochet inside of me, bouncing off walls. For the first time in too long, they sink in and make me feel something. I resist at first, not wanting to let my chest shake or my heart race, but there’s no stopping it. Staring back at her, she quietly sits back down and takes a sip from her coffee. Looking back to me, a corner of her mouth twitches as a gleaming droplet beads at her chin.

“What has it been now? Fifty five years and I still miss them . . my little baby,” the blood pounds in my ears as I stare at her in what, amazement? Horror? Complete and utter surprise? Probably, all of them.

“Gran, I-I never knew,” a voice says from behind me. Turning, another wave of shock courses through me at the sight of Harry with his hand on the door to the garage.

“I never told anybody, except for my immediate family when it had happened . . The thing was, the taboo around miscarriages and infertility hasn’t changed a whole lot since then. It disappoints me really . . Back then, you didn’t talk about it. Now, sometimes you talk about it, but it’s just the same. It’s near to impossible to speak about. Friends and family want to say something, but they don’t know how to without hurting you. So, instead of mentioning the loved one you lost, people don’t when they think of them, and they’re forgotten. That’s always been my worst fear, and I don’t want either of you to go through that- I cried when your mother told me what had happened, Harry. My heart breaks for the both of you, knowing that you’re going through the same nightmare that my Steven and I did.”

A puff leaves his lips and I can almost hear him gulp as sound evades us. Words haven’t been a friend to my lips in what feels like months, and right now isn’t an exception.

“I’m so sorry, Gran.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Harry. I’m so sorry that you lost your baby . . I heard it was a girl, your daughter,” her words are ginger and slow. Somehow, another piece joins the puzzle, but it still leaves me staring at the floor as tidal waves crash inside of me. “It was a long time ago, but I still miss them and wonder who they’d be. I’m sorry to say that never goes away, and that the whole b-s of ‘time heals all wounds’ isn’t entirely true. You just build up scar tissue to it, but some days are worse than others. I miss Steven terribly some days, like the day you announced your engagement, and your pregnancy. When your mother told me over the phone three weeks ago, I wished he could’ve been there too, for you to talk to about fathers losing a child. Men are still pressured to not show emotions but it was just as hard on him to lose our baby, and sometimes fathers are forgotten.”

A mess of emotions roils inside of me, flipping my stomach upside down. My heart too, arguably. The last sound that I make out is a sniffle of his before I’m bringing my hands to my eyes, and sobbing against them. It felt like I stood there for minutes before escaping down the hall, when it was only a few seconds in reality.

I wasn’t certain if they knew what I did. That I could hear them from the bedroom down the hall, the place I’d come to retreat to instead of Harry’s arms. I felt him coming towards me just moments ago, but I couldn’t do it. I think I’d almost forgotten what his touch felt like. If they thought I could hear them, they probably had mistaken me for being asleep or for not listening. I think they tried to keep their voices down, but despite Harry being a closet musician, there wasn’t much for treatment to these walls. He’d joked before about having sex one night his mom stayed here but I pushed him away, chalking it up to thin walls.

Now, the memory wasn’t that funny to me as I heard their conversation. I almost felt guilty, as if I was cheating by hearing them, but this was the only way I could take part in a conversation I know I should be part of. I didn’t think that I could even speak if I had wanted to, because of the hiccuped sobs that filled my chest, making it hard to speak. I know that I made the right decision when my head rests against the door upon hearing about what they say next, about me.

“I can hardly get her to have a conversation with me, Gran. Let alone about . . about the baby.”

“Oh, Harry. You just have to give her time.”

“I know and I have, but it’s becoming all the harder to feel as time passes. She’s getting worse and I’m barely staying put together. It scares me so much, because I don’t want to lose her too. If I did, I’d lose everything I have to live for.”

At last, the sound of my choked sobs drowned out that of their voices. By the time my lungs calmed down and my heart hardened once more, it was quiet. I missed his voice despite how it had almost betrayed me to another, and made me hurt. My rumbling stomach ultimately won the race and it was what led me down the hall, and without knowing, back to her. I blamed it on the appetizing smell wafting from the kitchen.

I’d already seen her and had decided to keep going, but upon passing the island where she sat again, I heard her intake of breath. Harry wasn’t anywhere to be seen, despite the wiped clean plate in the sink with the large fork and an empty can. He was the only one who used them and who drank the sparkling waters that I thought tasted like bug spray.

“I’m so sorry, Becky. The last thing I wanted was to upset you, honey.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Frankly, I’m rather tired of people saying those two words, but thank you,” I return, a steadiness arriving in my voice that I didn’t know I’d missed. “Can I-?”

“Of course, it’s all yours,” she insists with a smile. Nodding, I pick up the serving spoon and a plate, feeling my stomach grow happy at the sight and smell of her famous homemade lasagna. “There’s garlic bread in the oven and salad in the fridge. I’m just going to use the little girl’s room.”

I almost smile, realizing that I’ve missed her and just maybe, I feel okay enough to talk about it. I’d found a seat at the island beside her empty cup of coffee, already digging into the lasagna. An almost embarrassing moan left my lips at the taste of the layers of cheese, pasta, and bolognese sauce.

“Leave it to Claire to find the way to your heart,” somebody comments. Turning, I find Harry walking towards me with a tilt to his lips. He unrolls the hem of a Queen Bohemian Rhapsody shirt, looking more like himself now that he’s out of a suit. Sometimes, I still catch myself thinking that it was always the opposite, seeing how I’d know him to always be in suits for so long.

To my surprise, I don’t flinch or pull back when his hand arrives on my shoulder as I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me to see you eating, and enjoying it . . I’m surprised you haven’t broken into that plate of brookies yet,” he comments. Something happy buds on my lips when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple.

“So am I,” I reply, cutting myself another bite of the food. To my happiness, his arm comes around my shoulder and stays there. I welcome it and feel a warmth grow in my gut upon finding the courage to meet his eyes. They hold something that I learn to be mischief when he plucks one of the cookies off the plate. “Hey, save some for me.”

“Don’t worry, they’re all yours. Well, except a few for me. Maybe we could split them down the middle. Half for me and half for you,” he suggests with a cocky shrug to his broad shoulders. It surprises us both when my lips spill a few second giggle. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed that sound.”

“I’ve missed you,” it’s but a squeak and still, I know he hears it by the sad curl of his lips. “I’m going to try.”

“Thank you, my lovebug. That’s all I can ask for,” he smiles, stealing a quick peck from my lips. It catches me off guard and I find myself staring at him while he manages to take a bite that’s half of the cookie. He winks at me and I turn away, shoveling a large bite of cheesy pasta past my lips.

Another bite had donned my fork by the time Claire found her seat beside us. I’d made a dent in my garlic bread by now as Harry worked on his second cookie.

Swallowing, I loaded my fork with a scrap of melted cheese and bolognese sauce. “Claire. How . . How did you do it? Be okay again after losing your baby? It . . It feels impossible,” the words seem to come from nowhere at first.

After a few moments, I know where they stem from, and just how much importance they hold. It looks back at me in Harry’s eyes when I peer up at him, smiling back when he thumbs away a tear below my eye. As her response hits our ears, I reach my arm out and across his back, holding tightly onto his side. I didn’t let go once as we cried together with his grandma about our lost babies, and neither did he.

I went to bed with a hope in my heart, thinking that tomorrow would be different. Alas, I woke up to an empty bed and it wasn’t. I wasn’t surprised but sure, I was let down. I knew that somebody else would be much more disappointed than I was, if that were possible.

It wasn’t long after my waking realization that there was a knock on the door anda creak, “Hey, buggie. I’m making french toast. How many pieces do you want?” The rest of the night had been uneventful, for once. His grandma stayed for another hour or two as we ate cookies and I finally talked about it. Her. Now, lying with my back to Harry, I didn’t know how to do that again. To talk. “Wakey wakey, it’s nearly noon.”

His voice was closer now as his hands settled on my shoulders from behind. The feeling of his thumbs kneading the tissue made me want to let him drive away the intrusive thoughts. To let him win, but I didn’t know how. Yesterday had seemed like a fluke, as I looked back on it. Even if he was her father, how could I explain to him the hollowness that had filled me when I remembered that my child had died inside of me? No, that wasn’t something he could understand, nor could he hear how much I wished he had been there that morning. That the fact he wasn’t there had changed everything. I couldn’t tell him that and I never wanted to, but I’d gotten close. At the times his nagging and hovering drove me up the wall, my tongue itched to deal the worst blows just to get him off my back. I knew it was wrong, so much of it was but I didn’t know how to stop. All I knew how to do was to drown myself in my regret afterwards. Sometimes, I was mad that we couldn’t keep alcohol around, but at others, I was glad for it.

His molasses voice murmurs my name once more, another time that I ignore, until I can’t. “No thanks.”

“I can bring it in here for you. There’s bacon and strawberries too. Orange juice, as well.”

Shaking my head, I bury my face deeper into the pillow, finding that it has his smell. At one time, he had been my safety blanket, but now it was his smell that could calm me down. I wanted to feel guilty about it but I didn’t have the energy to feel guilt because of anything else as it was all focused on one thing.

“I’ll have a little bit,” I surrender, listening to his hopeful response before leaving. For once, he let me eat alone in the bedroom. But he still inspected my plate, and I could tell that he was biting back a remark as he read the paper at the island.

“Can we talk?”

“What about?” I replied, bending over to place my dishes in the dishwasher. Standing back up, I fail at readying myself for his next onslaught of questions. The ones that I can’t answer.

“You know . . About Phoebe,” he answers. I hear it, the way he has to shove the words past his lips in order to get them out. I only know because I’ve done it a thousand times, and often with him. You do it when it’s too hard to say, but you know that it has to be done regardless.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Becks,” he sighs, annoyance clear in his voice. “I thought you said that you were going to try. Last night went so well and you did great, I-.”

“I just can’t do it today. Okay, Harry?” I retort tearfully, catching the sagging of his features when I lock eyes with him. Sighing, I forget the cookie I’d picked up, placing the saran wrap back over it.

“So what, we need to schedule a fricken time to talk about it?”

I’d begun my retreat, but I wasn’t far enough yet. No, if I was in earshot of Harry, it wasn’t over yet. It had always been that way, ever since the beginning.

“Harry, please,” my words start, decorated with tears that drag my words underwater.

“We got pregnant and we . . we had a miscarriage, Becks. It’s nearly been a month now, but what comes next? When do we get back to normal?”

I hadn’t even been facing him and the words felt like a slap in the face. The look on mine must have felt similar to him, because when I turn around to look at him through blurry eyes, he melts into a puddle of regret.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Becks. Not-.”

“Not what way, Harry? That we should just forget about it and move on with our lives? God, you’re sounding like the doctor the other day who said that we can start trying again whenever we want. But I don’t want to try again yet, Harry, because I’m too scared that we’d lose another one- I mean, what if I can’t have kids? And- I don’t want to forget her or replace her,” but he didn’t hear the last part and I hadn’t decided if I’d wanted him to.

“You don’t know that, Becks, and that’s not what I meant at all. I promise,” he interrupts. The legs of his oversized sweatpants sag down to his ankles when he stands. “I didn’t say we had to get pregnant again right away. I’m fucking scared too. I just mean that I want us to get better. Collectively and on our own. I hate seeing you so upset all of the time, and just want you to be happy. We’re supposed to get married sometime this year and I still don’t know when that’s going to happen. The house is going to be ready in a few months, and I wanted to bring you there one day to look at the progress.”

I had begun to shake my head long before he’d stopped talking. It brought an edge to his words and an annoyance that I didn’t like, despite inciting it. A loud puff passes his lips and he returns to the chair, raking a hand through his hair. That either meant annoyance or boredom, or both. Like I tend to do, I take it personally and figure he’s both annoyed and bored of me, not that it was anything new lately.

“I can’t do that, Harry. I-I can’t,” fumbling with my words, my hand gets caught in my hair as I avoid his eyes. It doesn’t stop him from retorting an inquisitive ‘why not?’ “How am I supposed to go and see the house we’re building that has five extra bedrooms, Harry? How do you expect me to look at the rooms we planned out for o-our kids, and one for . . for Phoebe’s nursery when she’s not coming anymore?”

“Becks,” the nickname leaves his lips like that one breath that’s knocked out of you when you fall. The wrinkles that are rarely there above his eyes return as his eyebrows fall deeply. “I didn’t . . I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I, but . . I just can’t do that right now, o-or talk about her. I’m sorry,” I say with haste to my words and in my actions. The sad sound from his lips follows me to the couch where I perch, pretending to watch the tv. He doesn’t join me and after a while of pretending, my eyes start to droop.

The image of Shrek and Fiona making animal balloons falls away until a sound wakes me. Time had passed because now Fiona stands in front of Lord Farquad and Shrek is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m going to run an errand. Is there um, anything you need, bug?” he murmurs, the jangling of keys adorning his words.

“No thanks.”

“Okay, I won’t be long- Becks?” he speaks up, clearing his throat at last. I call back a question and wait as he idles. “I really am sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean anything insensitively or to upset you. I’d never want to do that.”

“I know, Harry. It’s okay,” are the last words that pass between us before he bids me a goodbye. I welcome the lack of silence but curl into the couch more, pulling the blanket around me as the movie continues.

My head throbbed when I stood up, but it had been happening a lot lately. I knew it was because I hadn’t been eating much, and as I think about that, my feet lead me to the fridge.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt full after eating, and still wanting a cookie afterwards. Like I do now. Licking the crumbs from my fingers after the last bite, the wooden floor is cold against my bare feet. For a reason I don’t know, I soon am staring up the staircase, and in that direction. It pulls at me to climb the stairs, but something deep down throbs in denial.

Instead, my attention is stolen when my ringtone blares from the couch. I lose my phone half of the time these days and so calls went unanswered. Assuming it was Harry with a grocery question, I picked it up without looking at who it was.

“Hi, Boops.”

“Dad,” I almost sigh, but I was unsure as to why. Was it the bombardment of talking to my dad on the phone for the first time in almost a month? Most likely. Or was it the homesickness that grew in my gut at the sound of his voice. “Daddy.”

“Hi, honey. I was hoping you’d answer. I’ve missed your voice.”

Sinking onto the couch, my bottom lip quivers as I try to breathe in slowly, but my heart won’t listen. It hasn’t for a while now.

“I’ve missed yours, Daddy.”

“Oh, baby girl,” he says in an exhale. Already, I know that he hears what my voice is dipped in, but I don’t hide it. It was too late for that. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I’m getting really sick of that word, but thanks, Dad.”

His classical chuckle begins its opening but it falters there, and so did any chance at mine. Silence had rarely been uncomfortable with my Dad. That was only when I’d gotten into trouble or when I was trying to tell him about something that had happened with my Mom, which usually went hand in hand. Over the years, I could hardly count the times silence had grown awkward between us, until it did now.

“What are you doing?” he decides to say, lifting my eyes to the tv screen where it appears Fiona and Farquaad will get their Happily Ever After. I knew without needing to think what would happen next. They wouldn’t, because it never really happens that way. No, it’s not that easy or immediate.

“Watching Shrek on the couch.”

“Is Harry there?” he murmurs a question.

“No, he went to do something not long ago. I don’t know what,” I answer, wrapping the tassels of the blanket around my finger until it hurts. “I think he’s mad at me. I can’t tell anymore, it seems like he always is.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, honey.”

Shaking my head for nobody to see, I taste blood when pressing my lips together to hold back the whimpering. Sniffling, I breathe in raggedly before speaking, “I think it is . . I can’t blame him, because I’ve been so horrible to him, Dad. H-He was supposed to be a Daddy and I’ve forgotten that he’s g-going through all of this too. I’ve been in my own little world being sad a-about the baby, and I forgot about him, Dad. I’m supposed to marry him soon, and I don’t even wear my ring anymore, and I can’t go upstairs, and-,” he doesn’t cut me off. I leave that honor for myself as I watch the color drain from my finger when I unwrap the tassel. I’d slowly come to hate the color red, even refusing to eat strawberries at first. It’d become the color I’d hated most after . . after that morning.

“I’m sure that he understands, Ree, or he’s at least trying to. I’ve spoken to him a few times now, and he’s not mad at you. He’s just frustrated and overwhelmed. Harry hates to see you unhappy, it’s always been that way with you too, and vice versa. He wants to fix everything, but I told him that’s not always possible. You can’t fix another person . . . and neither can you, Boops. You’re doing your best and so is he, and after a while-.”

“But I’m not, Dad. I’m hardly trying, only when I feel like it. I . . I don’t know how to do any of this and I don’t want to. I don’t want her to be gone. I was supposed to be a Mom. Her Mom,” I weep, pressing the handful of blanket against my eyes, catching my tears.

“I wish I could make it all better for you too, honey. Ever since you were little, I wanted to kiss the owies better and tell off the kids who were mean to you, but . . . you have to do it yourself and when you can, Becky. You can’t rush this. Grief, it doesn’t have a timetable or a road map- and, honey, you are a Mom. You’re Phoebe’s Mom. Nothing will ever change that,” somehow, I cry harder at his last words, melting into the couch.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I cry into the phone, wishing it was his shoulder, instead. It’s a few moments filled with the sound of my tears and his own sniffles, before I speak again. “But how do I . . how do I let Harry back in? I pushed him away without meaning to and now we’re so far apart, Dad.”

“I think that you need to remember that he’s grieving the loss of a child too. Your child together, Ree, and that he’s feeling the exact same feelings that you are. He’s devastated at not getting to be a father to Phoebe, to meet her, watch her grow up into a person, and do all of the things that you’re grieving the loss of too. You’re a team, honey, and you need to give each other some grace too. There aren’t any rules to this and maybe I shouldn’t talk because I’m divorced, but the first reason you’re there with each other is because you love each other. You have to remember that too, honey. Hey, I’m sorry, I think I’m burning my dinner in the oven. Can I call you back later, sweetie?”

“Yeah, Dad. Of course. Um, thank you. That really helped me,” I reply, swiping at my tears with the dry side of the blanket.

“I’m glad to hear it. I love you, Boops.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” and he’s gone. All I hear is the silence of the dead call and Shrek’s voice on the tv as he yells at Lord Farquaad. It’s what fills my ears and distracts my mind when I lay my head on the pillow, resting my hand on my belly without thinking. But unlike every other time I’d found myself doing it since . . since I was actually holding my baby, I let it stay there, wildly wishing she could be here watching Shrek with me.

I heard him come in when the credits of the movie are switching to the opening of its sequel. It was arguably the best, in my opinion, but it was something Harry and I had always disagreed upon. The memory sparks an invitation for him on my tongue, but upon raising my head, I watch him disappear down the hallway.

My ears aren’t sure what to focus on, the sound of his parting footsteps, the racing of my heart, or guitar strings soon being plucked from down the hall. It wasn’t much of a choice, because my feet were already leading me towards his study. A place where he had been spending a lot of time recently. I find myself gravitating towards the sound and wanting to hear more, but I stop outside the door nervously. My heart pulls me forward, despite the way it gallops, making me feel sick to my stomach. Standing there, I wonder why this is something I’m nervous about, but nothing is the same anymore. I hadn’t felt this way for what had it been now, years? There hadn’t been a time since the beginning that I was nervous to talk to Harry, and yet, here I stood doing just that.

His playing stopped and I perked up, making out the scribbling of pen on paper. Was he writing a song, I wondered quietly and wished I could ask. I didn’t know how to, and that was something I’d thought too many times lately. How to get out of bed. To eat a whole plate of food. Talk to my family and friends. I hardly even knew how to talk to Harry anymore. That’s what was holding me back, wasn’t it? Sure, if you wanted to sum it up.

“I know you’re standing outside the door . . Did you need something?” Harry murmurs, an edge to his voice. It was one that had appeared out of the blue and refused to leave. I only knew because I’d felt my voice change like that too.

There’s the creaking of the floor before I press the ajar door open enough for me to fit through. I find him sitting back down on his office chair, but he faces away from me, a guitar propped on his lap.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, still awkwardly standing in the doorway. His eyes flit to mine and I’m unsure of why I look away, except that I can’t face him. No, not when mine are still wet and I’m sure they aren't going to dry up anytime soon. Not after what I’m about to say.

“You forget how long I’ve known you,” he mumbles, peering down at the moleskin journal he scribbles in. “Four years, give or take. You learn their cues and the sounds they make when you come to know somebody for that long. That’s how I heard you at the door, it was your footsteps.”

“Oh,” I respond flatly, feeling dumb. His tone doesn’t imply it and nor do his words, but the embarrassment has run rampant already.

Watching him write and escape to his own little world had always been one of my favorite things to observe. Even his handwriting was something that brought me . . comfort. I blamed it on the familiarity, but as it pours from his pen, it makes my heart slow down a few ticks.

“My Dad called and we talked for a little bit.”

Harry hums a reply, crossing something out on the piece of paper. Scratching his head, he sighs whilst staring at the writing. I can’t make it out from here, but once again, the silence finds its old spot. Remembering his initial question when he heard me at the door, I worry that I’m bothering him. Gulping past the nervousness and doubt, I pedal forward.

“Was that yours?” I ask warily, noting his head rising so he can meet my eyes for a split second. They hold a question in them, perhaps dozens. “The song. It . . It was really pretty.”

“Yeah . . It’s just something I’ve been playing around with,” his answer comes out in a pillowy tone. It has changed ever since . . since I’d run away from him, and I hear it now as he speaks his reply.

“I really . . really like it,” I comment, looking towards the ceiling when his grandfather’s Gibson acoustic grows hazy in my eyes.

“Thank . . you. Hey, what is it? Did your dad say something that upset you?” it had been so long since I’d heard that steely edge absent from his voice. I don’t know why I mourned it, because it was my fault it had ever arrived in the first place. Wasn’t it? “Becks.”

“Yeah, he said a lot of things th-that made sense, actually,” I confess, dropping my head to stare at my fingers that I wring. I’m unable to ignore the feeling of my lips trembling against each other, despite busying myself with adjusting my rings. They stop when I arrive at the one that speaks volumes, and how deeply I’d ignored it.

Braving the storm, I finally look at him. His greens are patient and soft, something neither of our eyes have been for the other for awhile now. Without breaking eye contact, he settles his guitar onto its stand and discards the pad of paper.

“Harry, c-can I have a hug?” slowly, the overdue question comes.

“Of course,” he responds, a corner of his mouth quirking up. Already, he’s holding his arms out towards me. “You’ve never needed to ask, buggie.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling the air whoosh out of me when my body touches his. Somehow, my chest shakes harder with a new sob. It only worsens when his hands come under my thighs, lifting me up to sit on his lap.

“It’s been so long since we’ve hugged,” I know he doesn’t mean to, but it feels like a chasm through my chest when he says that. The guilt that had arrived at my dad’s words increases by tenfold.

“I’m sorry,” it’s but a whisper against his neck, my favorite place for hide and seek. But it was always him seeking me, it had been for months now, and I hadn’t let him win. Not once.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry for everything, Harry,” I repeat, pulling back to find his greens swarmed by tears. Swiping my thumb under them, I catch the way that they leak with sadness. “For how horribly I’ve treated you this last month, and how . . how I forgot that you- you lost our baby too.”

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to-,” he begins, adamant in his apology. One that I won’t accept.

“No, but I do have to apologize,” I sob, surprised at the way I’m shocked by the rough feeling of his cheeks. It had been so long since I’d touched him like this, despite watching him grow his beard out. “My dad, he . . he put it into perspective for me. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, I hate myself for that, for-.”

“Hey, don’t hate yourself for anything. This last month has been a Hell we never thought we’d have to endure. Something we shouldn’t have to deal with, and one that isn’t our fault,” he insists, thumbing at the place where a dimple would usually fall in my left cheek. I’d forgotten it was there, just like I’d done the same to him.

“But all you’ve been doing is trying to take care of me, and I made that so hard for you,” comes my cry against his palm, feeling the way he holds me together from breaking for the thousandth time. No, that would imply I’d have been put back together, but that wasn’t something I’d done. “You tried to make me eat and I fought you on it until you stopped talking about it. I argued with you and ignored you when you were just trying to keep the world going, but you never stopped, even though I did. You didn’t stop living and loving me when I stopped.”

“Becks, it’s okay,” he repeats, the words sliding into my ears as my hand wanders to his neck. A hoodie with cartoons from our childhoods dons his upper half, tattoos peeking out from the color. I found the charm of his necklace instantaneously, something I could do in the dark.

“But it’s not, Harry. It’s not okay how I treated you. I forgot you and that you’ve been mourning the loss of your child too. Our b-baby,” I whimper, sniffling when I inhale uneasily. My fingers shake before me until he takes hold of my hand, surrounding it with his own before pressing it to his lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you, Becks. I always will,” Harry says, tucking his chin over my head when I melt against him. “I meant it that first night after we came home and you disappeared on me . . We lost our baby, our child, and I can’t . . I can’t lose you too, Rebecca. I have, time and time again, and I can’t do it again. I’ve hardly stayed pieced together lately being so far away from each other like we have . . God, the only thing that kept me going was just thinking, ‘one more day’ for so many days.”

Hiccuping, my hands brace themselves against his taut back, feeling his own drift along my spine. Shaking my head against the crook of his neck, I struggle to breathe, let alone speak, “I’m so sorry, Harry. I can’t believe how awful I was to you. We’re supposed to get married soon, and I can’t even live up to that in sickness and health part of the vows.”

He continued to murmur assurances that everything was okay, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself believing him. Crying against his neck, I heard his own shed tears onto mine as my hands rubbed circles into his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you that day for going to work, even though you asked me and I said it was okay . . And-.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that, Becks,” he assures me, pressing a kiss to my head. Again, I believe him, and it feels easier to breathe. Just in the slightest.

“I was such a bitch to you.”

Something sparks inside of my chest at the sound I hear next, one that had been lost along the way. His laugh. His song.

“I’ve been known to be quite the dick on one or two occasions, as well,” I savor the glint that appears in his eyes upon pulling away. It had been one of the first times I was able to lift my head since before all of this had happened, because it had been better just to hide. No, not now.

The quirk to his lips is a full on tilt now, and through them, I’m reminded of what drew me to this man in the first place. It was those eyes and that smile that made me melt upon impact. Well, then there’s the sunshine they share, and how I taste it when his lips meet mine for really the first time in what, a month. Emotion pulls at me from somewhere underneath at the thought, but he makes me forget rather quickly. He’s always been good at that.

His peppermint chapstick sticks to my lips after he’s pulled away several seconds later, trying to catch his breath. The cobwebs have been dusted away in more ways than one, and it feels weird at first, wrong almost, but I laugh. It catches him by surprise too and his eyes focus on me, and only grow brighter.

“I’ve missed kissing you, and laughing with you,” Harry grins, pressing one more to my lips before brushing his nose against mine.

“So have I. I’m s-.”

“I swear, if you say that word one more time,” he tuts, shaking his head with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to figure out something,” he says, sighing for the dramatic effect. I giggle along with him a moment later, remembering the flecks of gold hidden in his eyes. I remember a lot, too much almost, and the gold is gone as my eyes flood once more. “I know it’s hard, Becks. Something has never been this difficult for me . . for you either. But we have to talk, and I’ve been aching for ages now to talk to you . . I don’t want to ignore it, because they shouldn’t be forgotten. Our daughter. We need to talk about them, about her,” I’m nodding before he can finish, feeling his warm lips against my forehead as I focus on my breaths. “In and out, bug. In and out. We can do this. We’ll start slow.”

I haven’t stopped nodding, but once my lungs start to work again, I pull away and find his eyes once more. It comes to me and I can’t hold it back in anymore, knowing I need to say it first. To tell him.

“Okay, let’s talk about o-our daughter,” I begin, cringing at the sound of my voice breaking already. He nods, cupping my face in his palm, the sweetest of looks on his face.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles alternate universe #one direction fanfiction #one direction #fanfic #wattpad #harry styles wattpad #writing #vanchlo writes #heck yes #becky x harry #tempestad #elmundodebecks

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starlit-serenade · 4 years

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Along the Red Thread | Chapter 5

🧣 Summary: It is said that a red thread connects people who are soulmates and destined to be lovers, regardless of place and circumstances. What makes this difficult is that you stopped believing in love a long time ago. OR. You go to Korea to visit your father after several years. There, a mysterious red thread that seemingly only you can see shows up when you least expect it, and you meet a childhood friend you’d never thought you would see again.

🧣 Chapter 5: 2,552 words

🧣 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju/Xion; a couple of OCs;

🧣 Rated: T / Warnings: Mentions of divorce (Y/N’s parents); Mentions of abuse (physical); Instances of abuse (non-physical); Mentions of child abuse; Swearing / Genre: Angst; Fluff; Soulmate!AU (Red Thread of Fate); ChildhoodBestFriends!AU; Happy Ending;

《 Boy Group Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Series Masterlist 》

It's been about a week and a half since Geonhak first joined you to take Sunho to school. Since then, Geonhak has been accompanying you both almost every school day, waking up early to meet you outside of the apartment and ride the bus with you and Sunho. Sunho loves it. He tells Geonhak about the games he plays, the books he's read, the stuff he's learning in class.

Some days, after dropping off Sunho with you, Geonhak will head to his dorm or to his practice. But on those days where you didn't want to return to your father's apartment, Geonhak would take you wherever you wanted to go, for as long as you wanted to be out. Whether it was just for some drinks, or to hang out at his dorm with him and his members. Seoho has, indeed, told you many embarrassing stories about Geonhak. Which provoked Geonhak to chase him around. Sometimes, you even get to watch them practice at their studio.

You and Sunho sit next to each other at the dinner table. Your father sits across from you, and Sooyeon sits across from Sunho. All of your plates are mostly empty from a filling dinner made by Sooyeon.

"Today, we practiced multiplication," Sunho says to you. "Areum helped me with it. She's better at it than me."

"Really?" you ask, grinning. "You can ask me if you need help. I know a bit about multiplication."

Sunho taps his feet excitedly. "Does Mr. Kim know multiplication?"

You pretend to think about it. "Hm. He should. Do you want him to help you practice?" Sunho nods, and you grin. "If you ask me, it seems like you like Mr. Kim more than you like me," you say, tickling him. He giggles.

"No! You're the one who reads to me every night."

"Who's Mr. Kim?" your father asks, interrupting. You look at him, and he asks again. "Who's Mr. Kim?"

"Oh, uh . . ."

You hesitate. You don't know why you don't want to tell him. Maybe it's because you want to separate your life at home from your time with Geonhak. Maybe it's because after all of this time you've spent with Geonhak and his group members, they've become almost a second family, your home, a safe place. And when you're with them, your father and Sooyeon vanish. Just for a moment. And you want to keep that safe. You don't want your father asking Geonhak to join a family dinner, and make you face the reality that you only really have one family.

"No one," you say. "Just a friend."

Your father tilts his head curiously. He looks at Sooyeon. "Clean the dishes, won't you?" he asks her. Sooyeon nods, standing up, and takes all of the dishes from the table. You hear the sound of the running water of the sink, as your father leans forward over the table.

Besides. You're an adult, and haven't seen your father properly in years. It's not like you owe him an explanation for anything.

"He's just a friend," you say.

"And how did you meet this friend here? You've only been here for a month and a half."

You shake your head. You don't have the energy to explain it. And you don't need to explain it to him.

"I need some space." You get up from the table and head for your room, and you can hear the sound of your father's chair being pushed backward as he stands up to follow you.

"Y/N, you're supposed to be able to tell me everything. I'm your father."

If you weren't so busy trying to get some distance between you and your father, you'd roll your eyes. Ideally, you'd be able to tell your father everything and everything. But you haven't spent real quality time with him since the start of high school. And he isn't exactly close to you fatherly-wise.

You push open your door and try to slam it shut behind you. But just before the door closes, the door swings back twice as hard, the handle hitting you right in the hip and the edge of the door itself slamming into your lower arm and knocking you back, and you wince in pain, holding onto your arm.

"Fuck," you mumble.

That's gonna bruise.

You step back and place your hand on the bed to maintain balance. You glare at your father. He's staring at you in a way that makes you feel so small. You don't speak a word, as his eyes fall onto your arm. His expression changes.

"Ah, shit. Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Just go," you say. You move to sit on your bed before lying down, not looking at him. "I'm tired. Please just go."

There's silence. Then, you hear the door close, and you relax, shutting your eyes tight. You just want to fall asleep. Maybe in the morning, you'll wake up and realize that it was you who was being unreasonable, or you overreacting.

Today, you and Geonhak are sitting at a table at the back of the library, after having taken Sunho to school. You two are pouring over a comic book together, snickering at the funny parts between sips of the cold drinks before you.

You two have been sitting there for the past three hours already. Time really flies when you spend time with him. He makes you so happy. Even when you two are walking in silence, not talking, you feel satisfied.

You know that you don't see him as just a friend now. He makes you so happy. Whenever you see him at the beginning of the day, when he shows up to take Sunho to school with you, you feel the butterflies burst in your stomach. You've never felt as safe with anyone as you do with Geonhak.

As your book comes to an end, you place it aside and check your phone. It's about 11:30AM.

"We should get ready to go," you say. "I have some readings to finish before I go back home."

"Maybe you could come over to the dorm?" Geonhak suggests. "I could make you some lunch. And you could do your studies at my dorm. If you want."

You grin. "Sure. I'd like that."

Geonhak sits next to you as you work on your computer on the couch. Two windows are open on your screen, one with your reading and one to take notes on. Your sandwich lays half eaten on a plate on the table in front of you.

"Sunho was talking, yesterday, about wanting you to help him with subtraction," you say to Geonhak.

"Oh, really? I'd love to."

"I know." You glance at Geonhak. While you've been looking at your computer screen, you've been somewhat aware of Geonhak's eyes on you the entire time. You don't know why he's been watching you this whole time,and you don't want to ask.

You reach over your computer for your sandwich, and your arm bumps the top of the screen, right where the door had hit you last night after your father threw it open. It did end up bruising, as did the spot on your hip. But the one on your hip wasn't as bad.

You wince and lift your arm a bit, and instead reach around your computer instead of over. You don't want to worry Geonhak, and pray that he didn't see or notice. But you weren't so lucky.

"Huh?" Geonhak looks at you. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I just . . . I hurt my arm yesterday is all."

Geonhak carefully takes your hand in his, watching you to make sure you're okay with it. When you don't stop him, he slides your sleeve up your arm and inspects the purple bruise carefully.

"You did this to yourself?" he asks, looking up at you with concern, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the bruise. You can't lie to him. You don't want to. And, to be honest, you don't think your brain or mouth will let you.

"Well . . . no, not exactly," you say, shaking your head.

"Who did this?"

You hesitate.

You don't want Geonhak to think you're friends with him just because you still need help coping with your family problems. And you definitely don't want to be a burden.

Your mouth doesn't let you lie.

"My dad hit me with the door yesterday," you admit.

Geonhak looks furious. "He did what? Y/N, I thought--"

"I don't think he meant to do it," you blurt out. "I mean--I don't think he meant to hurt me. He was just mad."

"That's the case every time," Geonhak says, staring into your eyes. "It's always that 'he was just mad.' But that's not an excuse for him to hurt you."

You stare back at Geonhak, and nod. You know he's right. That your father is hurting you, and at this point, it doesn't matter if he means to or not.

"You're right."

After a second, he takes your hands in his reassuringly, and looks you right in the eyes. "Hey. Y/Nie. Do you want to stay here tonight? I don't want you going back there, if you aren't going to be safe."

You look up at him. You almost want to say yes. But you also don't want to. On one hand, you want to spend more time with him. He makes you happy. You trust Geonhak more than anyone else.

But on the other hand, you don't trust him completely. Or anyone. You've given up on that. When the person you were supposed to trust most, your own parent, broke your trust, how can you trust anyone else like that?

You smile, pulling your hands away from him, and you shake your head.

"It's alright," you say. "Thank you for the offer, Hak, really. But like I said earlier, I'd like to give him one more chance. And I don't want to be a bother to you or your members, so if something happens, I'll just get a hotel room someplace," you say.

He tilts his head curiously and frowns. "You won't be a bother, Y/N. The members love you, trust me. Seoho definitely loves telling you about my embarrassing moments," he says grinning.

You smile, but shake your head. "Thank you, Geonhak. But really, I think I'll stay at a hotel if something happens."

Geonhak sighs, then nods, pulling his hand away from yours, and you feel yourself deflate a bit. "I'm always here if you need me, okay Y/Nie?"

"Of course."

You two continue to hang out a bit longer, until it's time for you to pick up Sunho from his school and for Geonhak to head to his work. You wish him a good day of practice, and leave to walk to Sunho's school on your own.

You have no idea where your mind is as you walk. It seems to be wandering everywhere, so much that you're barely aware of where you're going. You're on autopilot as you walk to Sunho's school. It's a wonder you don't accidentally walk into a lamp post

You know that you like Geonhak. You know that you have romantic feelings for him, however small. But right now, the last thing you want to do is act on them.

Growing up as a small kid, you had looked up to your parents. At first, you'd thought they were the best couple ever--seeing that parents are supposed to be their kids' role model.

But naturally, as your parents' marriage fell apart, so did your idea of love. How could you trust anyone with your heart when one of the people you were supposed to trust the most--your own father--already had broken your trust? You don't know if you're able to trust anyone like that. At least, for now. For you, you're happier just being friends with someone who you want to be more with.

But you also don't want to spend so much time close to Geonhak that you fall deeper in your feelings. Spending another night with him will make you want to spend another, and another. And you're too worried that that'll lead to you two being more than friends. Which you're not ready for.

You look up and realize you're at your destination. The gates leading to the school are there before you, standing a little taller than you are.

You stand, waiting outside of the gates in front of Sunho's school, like a parent waiting for their kid. You're a couple minutes early, so you're waiting, listening to your music while staring in the direction of the school while you think about how you like Geonhak but don't want to like Geonhak.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a small ring! from your phone. You look down, frowning, and you see that you just received a text from Geonhak. You click the message to see what he said.

Geonhak 🐥: The members were asking about you. They say hi and they hope you're doing well!

Above the text is a selfie Geonhak took. You can see Youngjo, Seoho and Dongju beside him, as well as Keonhee and Hwanwoong reflected in the mirror behind him. They're all smiling brightly, waving, making peace signs or hearts and silly faces. You can't help but smile. He and his members are all so sweet, and you can't help but smile dumbly as you type a text back.

You: Aww! Tell them thank you for me! 💕

You: And thank you for spending time with me today.

Just after you send the second text, you can hear the bell ring in the distance, signaling the end of Sunho's school day. A couple minutes pass as some students start exiting. They run to their waiting older parents or siblings. As you continue looking over the kids, you spot him.

Sunho is talking to two friends next to him. One little girl, who you recognize as his best friend Areum, and another kid who you don't know the name of. Sunho sees you, waves goodbye to his friend, and runs over to you.

"Hi Y/Nie!" he says, running over to grab your hand. "I can't wait to tell you about what I learned today! And Mr. Kim!"

You smile as you lead him to the bus stop. "I can't wait to hear it. And I'm sure Mr. Kim will be happy to hear it tomorrow before school, too!"

"Yeah!" He grins widely. "Can I show you at home?"

You grin. "Of course. Sunho," you say. You look up at the sky. The sun is bearing down on you. It's hot as hell today. You look down at Sunho. "How about we go and get you some ice cream. Does that sound good?"

"Yes please!"

You smile, leading the way toward the ice cream place you've gone once with Geonhak and Sunho.

You don't know what it is, but you find so much joy in pampering and treating Sunho. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you didn't get enough affection from your father, and you've seen that your father doesn't give Sunho any attention either. You want to give Sunho everything you lacked as a child.

You smile softly down at Sunho.

#kdiarynet #oneus #leedo #kim geonhak #kim gunhak #oneus fanfic #oneus fanfiction #leedo fanfic #leedo fanfiction #kim geonhak fanfic #kim geonhak fanfiction #kim gunhak fanfic #kim gunhak fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #myfic

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batfamily14 · 4 years

Text

FINAL DAYS PART TWO

Jason Todd x reader

AN: alternate universe where the world is over throw by a deadly virus that raises the dead.

Three years ago

The ice berg lounge

————————

If I could melt into this room, I’d move around as easily as smoke. I'd be the haze of laughter and the smiles. But reality is not like my imaginary world. I’m invisible , nearly the shade of the room's walls and if my eyes weren’t widened with nervousness , I’d blend in. As the night goes on, I'll become more comfortable , just another intoxicated spirit lost in the glow. Right now though I’m a wallflower, back pressed against the wall with my cup close to my chest. The club shimmers like the Northern Lights; the dry-ice sculpted building blushes in an array of blues. The music is played over the lounge floor. The gleam of the camera flashes all around from outside. I rest my hand on the wall's artwork. It’s a painting of an older version of Gotham. I feel the dried paint brush my palm. Suddenly a stranger bumps into me and my liquid splattered all over the painting “Shit.” I gasp. I stand up unsure of what to, the stranger disappearing into the crowd. “Stupid, so fucking stupid.” I mumble repeatedly to myself. A sharp smell of earthiness wafts towards me, The sweetness of cool autumn air. I can’t help but follow the smell, I turn around to a younger man. His blue eyes stare at the painting , eyebrows quirking up questioning. I bite my lip looking him over, he had a tousled of dark black hair. His eyes were mesmerizing , flecks of green mesh with the blue. His face was strong and defined. I was broken from my trace when I noticed his serious expression. “You know this painting was a gift.” He says, taking my cup. His hands are cold against my skin. “I’m-I’m sorry!” I stuttered, suddenly filled with panic. “I’ll repay you.” I say, holding his hands tightly. He winces and steps back. “Sorry!” I say again flustered. “Please, I’ll tell your boss personally.” He looks me over as if it’s this exact moment he’s really taking me in. Again he surprises me by smiling. “He already knows.” He whispers. My tongue becomes twisted , tied by nerves. “How-How...” I trail off. Suddenly I put the pieces together, visibly paling. “You are...”

“The owner, Jason Todd.” He answers. The room begins spinning. I look down to the floor, hanging my head in embarrassment. My nails dig into the skin of my arms. Suddenly I feel him take my hands gently away , holding them against my side. “Hey, it’s nothing to worry about.” He reassured me. “Besides you can always pay me back.” I sigh trying to settle myself. “Okay, if you tell me how much it cost, I’ll write you a check.” I take my phone out, opening my notes to take down the price. “It’s about 3500.” He says. My heart sinks to my stomach and I pale again. He sighs irritated. “How about we talk about this after the party. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black card and key. “This key will operate the elevator, this card will let you into my main waiting room . Leave them on the my desk and wait for me. “ I take them from him, his hands freezing me from the touch. Before I can say another word he disappears into the crowd. The party passes in a blur. I found myself at the bar the rest of the night, I wasn't drunk yet but I could easily give the impression that I was. The bar-tender was conversational between drinks, eyes dropping obviously to my low-cut neckline. Slowly through the evening guests began to disburse. I walked inching myself closer to the elevator. When only a few remained, I used my key to leave upstairs. The elevator opened directly into his private office, stunned I walked forward hesitantly. My heels dragged against the floor. I placed the key and card on his wooden brown desk. I moved to the balcony overlooking the city. The office was painted the same blue like the rest of the building , decorated with red furniture and a large fish tank. I watched the fish swim for a moment, tapping the glass trying to get their attention. The door suddenly swung open scaring me, I jumped up freezing. Jason walked forward slowly stopping in front his desk, his hand gliding across the surface. He smirks, “Did you have a good time?” I smile, maybe too widely. I walk stumbling over my feet feeling weightless. I trip over the leg of the desk falling forward but before I hit the ground he catches me with ease. Lifting me up again. “You're drunk.” He says, holding me steady. “ No! Not drunk, maybe a little tipsy.” I giggle uncontrollably, hands sliding down his back. When he tenses I move them back up holding his shoulders. “You shouldn’t be drinking without company.” He says. “Take a seat on the couch. I'll join you when I pour myself a drink.” I manage to walk across the room wobbling slightly with each step. I collapsed into the couch dizzy. My eyes look around the room noticing small details. The small cracks in the ceiling, the softness of the couch and small loose threads. Jason sits next to me offering a drink. I shake my head no, he laughs and downs both. “Why did you come to the lounge tonight?” He asks.

“I was supposed to write about my experience here.” “And? ” He gestured to me to continue. “It’s enjoyable. Maybe way too enjoyable.” I laugh. “I can’t believe all this is yours, your return has been one of Gotham’s many surprises.” He nods in agreement. “You get used to these things living here.” He says, lightly tapping his fingers against the glass. I shrug, as I brushed my hair from my face. “I didn’t grow up here.” His expression showed confusion and interest. “I grew up with my mother in the country.” I say. He tilts his head in curiosity waiting for me to continue . I sigh rubbing the back of my neck uncomfortably . “My mother died when I was eighteen and left me her land out south. I was thankful but I could barely manage and ended up taking slow jobs to keep our home. Time goes on and my father returns for me from his separate family, he claims I couldn't keep the place on my pay and that I should give it to him. I do and he sells the land, and sends his kids off to school and I was left with nothing.” Jason huffed in disbelief and I hummed. “I know. Anyway, I lived with my father for some years until I found a place of my own. I managed to weasel myself a suitable job at the local news, working as an assistant under Vicki Vale. Tonight was supposed to be the biggest moment of my career , but now I can’t even recall how I got here.” I grunted softly, biting the inside of my cheek. He stares at me taking in my words silently. “I lost my mother too when I was pretty young.” He admits. I look at him, our eyes meet but I can tell he’s looking beyond me somewhere lost in memories. “I understand more than you can imagine. “ he smiles sadly, clearly forced. “I guess were two of a kind.” I say. We stare for a moment at each other.

“You know,” He begins sliding close to me. “I didn’t come up because I saw you destroying one of my prized paintings.” I smirk. “Then what was the reason?” I shift closer to him. “Out of everyone at the lounge you seemed different .” My eyes widened from his confession. “I’ve been wondering all night why that was.” Suddenly I began to notice him leaning in slowly, waiting for me to close to space between us. So I do. His lips brush mine softly. Not innocently, but passionate and demanding. I want to pull away before I lose myself but I can’t. I smiled, my heart fluttered as I clasped my hands on the buttons of his suit hesitant. He kisses my neck and my resistance crumbles. A hand runs through my hair, as the kisses become harder and more urgent. Another hand slides around my waist, and pulls my dress zipper down slowly. As I kiss his neck in return a wave of pleasure runs through my body. I kissed his lips softly again. “Maybe I can give you a private interview.” He mumbles into my ear. My body becomes warm again all over. “But, I have other plans tonight sadly. I’m sure we will be meeting again.” He winks, pulling back. Standing up he offers me his hand. I take it as he leads me to the elevator. One last time he kisses my neck whispering goodbye. “Come to think of it I haven’t even asked for your name.” He smiles. I grow fluster again from his gaze. “It’s y/n.” I say as the door closes.

Outside Eve, my roommate and closest friend, waits in the car, waving me over as I exit. Once in she bombarded me with questions, I told her about everything except for my moment upstairs with Jason. I can help but feel that my stomach has turned itself inside out, I’m jittery with butterflies . “Do you wanna grab something to eat before we go home.” Eve asks. “Actually yeah. I don’t think they severed any food there.” I realized for the first time that night how hungry I actually was. She scoffs, “Savages.” I laugh warmly at her curling my hair behind my ear. “Yeah a sandwich will be cool.” I lean up beaming at her. “I think that could work.” She nods happily as she reaches over to turn on the radio and begins flipping throughout the channels rapidly.

LISTEN TO THE RADIO. ( kinda loud)

Fear engulfs me , and I think my heart will explode any moment. My body shudders, and I almost vomit, I can taste saliva trickling down my throat. My hands begin to shake but suddenly Eve gently places her over mine. I look into her eyes, I can see she’s trying hard not to cry in front of me. “Hey...” she says soothingly. “I’m sure everything is okay and will work out. Let’s go back home, we’ll be safe there.” I can’t speak so I shakily nod in response. She doesn’t release my hand though as she begins to turn around. We cruise down the empty road quickly. She squeezes my hand constantly reassuring me. “We’ll be ok. Say it with me, we’ll be okay.” I repeat it to her softly.

We’ll be okay. We’ll be ok. We’ll be ok.

The car begins to slow and I start to panic all over again. “Hey-hey, what’s happening?” My breathing becomes uncontrollable and my chest squeezes. “Hey. We’re just out of gas we’re okay, I promise. We just need gas.” She holds my hands rubbing my knuckles . “You’re cold. Take my coat, I’ll step out and bring us gas.” I shake my head. “No, you need it” Her fingers gently press against my cheek. “I’ll live.” She says. Without any more input she takes her coat off and drapes it over me, then holds my hands again. “I’ll be fast. Faster than you can blink.” She promises. She gets out of the car and begins walking down the street. I sit silently, scanning around for movement as she disappears around the corner. I don’t remember when but I begin to drift asleep. The blazing of a car horn unsettles me and jerks me awake. My eyes snap open, darting around. I suddenly see Eve pleading with two men holding a gas can close, more cars than before are speeding down the road. The streets are flooded with citizens rioting and rampaging into apartments.

I hear one of the men shout, “Just give it to us, and we won’t cause any trouble!” Eve refuses and backs away. I hop out the car as one of them pulls out a small blade. “No, y/n!” she warns me. I stop as they both face , fear once again enclosing me in . “Just run y/n! Go!” Tears fall as my legs tremble. “Not without you!” I yell back. She only sighs softly. “Run please.” I stand there gazing into her eyes, my whole body stinging in agony. Suddenly two beams glow in our direction. “Car!” Eve shouts gasping.

At the last second, I jumped out the way . My body hit the hood of the car and I screamed as I flipped into the air . Somehow time slows and I see Eve frozen as the car swivels crashing into her, her bones break with an audible snap. My lungs contracted at the force of collision . My head smashed against the pavement while my arms and legs were flailing in the air. The world falls to darkness.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd

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