#┆█ ✦ – ⊰ jedediah shine. ⊱ (musings)

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[aiyexayen]

OMG "VALUE ME" FOR Jedediah/Octavius PLEAS PLEASPLEPASKEJOI

"Say," Jed muses, lounging back against the bannister. "We're friends, right?"

Octavius blinks up at him from his place on the ground. It's an hour 'til sunrise and they've left the party a bit early to take in the view of the outside world; the beat still thumps through the walls, but not too loudly to talk over.

"Where is this question coming from?"

Jed scowls. It's cute. "Aw, just answer it, will you?"

"Never could there be a truer companion to me than you, Jedediah," Octavius says without hesitation, "nor a partner so dear."

"Right," Jed says.

He doesn't say anything else for a minute, just stares out into the streets, out at the slowly colouring horizon. The city lights shine in his eyes like stars and Octavius stands up to have a better angle on the view.

Concerned more than distressed, he ventures, "Have I done something to bring you doubt? To etch such a furrow on your brow?"

"Ah? Naw, it's just--" Jed hisses out a breath through his teeth, fiddles with the brim of his hat for a moment, and crosses his arms. A worrying sign. "How does that make you feel?"

How does it make him feel? It makes him feel...a great many things, really. It makes him want to quote poetry, to climb mountains, to dance and rejoice and celebrate. It makes him feel alive. It makes him want to steal away in the quiet moments like this, and simply be.

"It makes me feel good," he answers honestly, if a bit simply.

Jedediah finally makes eye contact with him and that starfield gaze looks positively pathetic, like a puppy. Octavius melts a bit. How terribly unfair.

"Does it ever--ever make you feel like kissin'?"

Oh. The question seems to come out of just as much nowhere but suddenly it all makes sense. Octavius blinks once and then a grin breaks out across his face. He had never expected to be asked such a thing. He hadn't minded. But, "Yes."

Jed's eyes get wide, like he wasn't expecting it either. The stars get brighter. "Yeah?"

"Would I lie to you now?"

Laughter hits him in response, and his grin is at least as wide as Octavius'. The tension in his frame evaporates and he unfolds like a flower in the imminent sunrise. "Alright."

"Indeed."

There's still some kind of hesitation caught in the moment and Octavius decides Jed has been brave enough so he reaches out for his hand himself. It's all he needs, apparently, and a second later Octavius is being spun around by the armour and smooched like the love interest in an old movie.

Preposterous.

He grabs Jedediah about the waist, palms on rough leather, and winces through his laughter at the loud whooping right in his ear.

The sun, however, is not going to wait on them forever, and the first rays threaten to eclipse the twinkling lights. They'll be there again tomorrow, though, and all the nights after. So Octavius grabs for Jed's hand again and yanks him, crowing triumph and all, back inside.

[jomiddlemarch]

A Charm invests a face

“Oh, Mary, Mary, what have they done to you!” Jed exclaimed. His hand jerked forward, reaching for her, before he could stop himself.

 “We had no choice,” Aunt Agnes said, her voice not as unwavering as she might have wished. He heard the fatigue in it, the hours spent in a bedside vigil, how she’d worn it out, praying.

 “No choice?” he repeated.

 “She was burning up, I’ve never know a body to be so hot and yet live, the doctor said we must. That it was sapping her strength, making her miserable,” Agnes said. How could he fault her? He had let Mary go, he had waited and waited to come to her, allowing so many things to come between them. When Samuel had asked, had nearly ordered him to go to Boston, he’d nearly balked until he asked himself why. What was he afraid of? That she would reject him? That he would not feel the same? That she would be gone was the only possibility to strike dread into his heart. He had climbed aboard the train and wished it to fly, magicked by his desire, by his awareness of what he had risked.

 “She let you?” he asked, thinking of the Mary he had known in Virginia, stalwart, impetuous, her soul threaded through with the finest, unbreakable steel. Mary with her lovely chestnut hair in the most elaborate, shining braids, coiled and netted, Mary with her hair loose over her shoulders, spilling across her pillow, tendrils he had brushed back from her face.

 “Poor lamb, I hardly think she knew, at first,” Agnes replied. “She was out of her head, crying and crying with what little voice she had left. When she realized we’d cut it off, it was too late,” She trailed off, the discomfort in the memory palpable in the green room.

 “What aren’t you telling me?”

“She was crying for you. Your name, Jedediah, over and over. I thought, how much you must mean to her, how her heart was breaking and would you ever know?” Agnes said. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then another. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine it beyond what she’d said. It would destroy him.

 “She wouldn’t let me send the letter she wrote. The letter she wrote to you,” Agnes added.

 “She’s stubborn,” he said, finally getting the nearest expression to a smile from Mary’s aunt.

 “Oh, aye, she is and ever ‘twas so. Even as a little girl.”

 “She looks so very young,” he said, reaching again, more gently, to stroke Mary’s shorn hair, the silky dark curls that clustered around her face, not grazing her shoulders.

 “Until she opens her eyes. Perhaps, now you’re here, p’rhaps that’ll change,” Agnes mused.

 “I hope so,” he said in a low voice. Mary, when she woke, would she be glad to see him? It wouldn’t matter, as long as she opened her eyes.

 “I suspect we’ll see a change. To get your heart’s desire, when you’ve given up, given it up… Well, it’s remarkably restorative,” Agnes said, nodding sagaciously.

 “I’m her heart’s desire?” he said, letting himself touch her pale cheek once, twice. He’d held her face in his two hands once and kissed her, kissed her with everything he was, body and soul, and it was nothing to this moment.

 “It’ll mean more when she tells you herself,” Agnes replied. “A word of advice—reassure her you don’t mean to leave. I don’t care if it’s a lie, just tell her you’ll stay.”

 “It wouldn’t be a lie, it’s not,” he retorted.

 “That’s good to know. She’ll appreciate all that temper and spirit when she wakes up,” Agnes remarked. Mary didn’t have her eyes, but he recognized the expression, that Yankee woman’s critical summation lacking any flattery.

 “Have you any other advice?” he said, humbling himself to the woman who’d the greatest part in saving Mary’s life.

 “Ah, yes, I might have,” Agnes said, the smile in her tone. “Tell her she’s beautiful, tell her you love her dearly, dearest of all. Tell her nothing’s changed, except that you’re not going to be a fool any longer. Unless you plan to be?” Mary’s aunt said smartly, unexpectedly.

 “No, I don’t. I do love her, she is beautiful, and my dearest,” he said.

 “Like that. That’ll suit,” Agnes said dryly. “Took you long enough, didn’t it?”

 “Too long,” he said, stroking Mary’s loose curls. She stirred but her lashes didn’t flutter open.

 “She’ll forgive you, she’s made that way,” Agnes said. “I won’t again, though, mind.”

 “You shouldn’t need to,” he promised.

 “There now, she’ll wake in a minute or two and it’ll go easer if I’m not here. I’ll be just across the hall, if you need me,” Agnes said, gesturing to the chair next to Mary’s bed. Jed walked to it and sat down, prepared to wait for Mary. Agnes left the room, closing the door nearly all the way, and there was only the lamp’s pool of gold and the green-dark shadows collecting in the corners of the room.

 “Jedediah? You’re—you’re here?” she said, the minute or two passed that her aunt had predicted. Her eyes were confused but so lovely and he saw how even with her hair like a boy’s, nothing could disguise her beauty, the beauty of her soul seeking his.

 “Yes, Mary. I’m here, sweetheart, I’ve come for you,” he said swiftly, steadily.

 “Truly?” she asked, reaching a trembling hand to touch his face, letting it fall to the bedclothes.

 “Truly. Always,” he said, taking her hand from the coverlet and pressing a kiss to it, holding it still when she tired and dropped it, when she sighed with relief and pleasure.

 “I’m glad, so glad you came,” she murmured. He would have cursed himself for what his delays had cost her, except that he knew that would be the greater burden to her.

 “Then we are glad together,” he said quietly, seeing the spark of her former, healthier self in her soft dark eyes at his admission and a light that she didn’t try to conceal with glances away. He could not take her into his arms and embrace her as tenderly, ardently as he wished, but he held her hand and her gaze. He understood nothing had been lost that they could not regain and that as ever, he was blessed beyond deserving.

[myocularproof]

Hi everyone! I just wanted to let you know, in case you're still reading The Proposal and Soho Tales, that I am still writing and do intend on finishing them! I am home with my kids this summer and don't have as much opportunity to write like I did previously. Updates are coming, but they are taking a bit more time. Thank you for your interest and your comments. They keep me going for sure! Jedediah Shine does as well, as he remains my strongest and most demanding muse. ❤️ @myocularproof

[muiiitos-arc]

PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR BBC'S RIPPER STREET'S INSPECTOR JEDEDIAH SHINE. AS PLAYED BY JOSEPH MAWLE.

by liking this post it gives me permission to tag you in starters from inspector jedediah shine at any point in time. as well, it gives me permission to send you memes, etc. at any point as well. // muse  info & tags.