#I could write something much more eloquent if given the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

navybrat817 · 8 months

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Like There's No Tomorrow

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.

On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.

In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.

“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”

“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”

“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”

“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”

Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.

Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.

You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.

Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.

“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”

He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?

Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.

But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.

“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”

Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.

Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.

Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?

The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.

You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.

He was your one bright spot in the building.

With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.

You owed yourself that.

“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”

“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.

But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.

So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”

You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.

What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.

Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.

He was yours.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”

But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?

He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?

“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”

“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”

Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”

“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”

You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?

“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”

“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”

The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?

“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”

“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.

“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”

Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”

He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.

“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”

“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.

“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”

“What about work for you?”

“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.

Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.

“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”

“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”

“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.

“Why not?” He shrugged.

“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.

Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.

At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?

When did you start thinking so cynically?

“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”

Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”

Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?

You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.

“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.

How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?

Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”

Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”

“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”

Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.

Why not do something impulsive?

Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?

“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”

“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”

The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”

Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”

“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”

“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”

“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”

“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’

“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

“I won’t forget it,” he promised.

“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”

It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”

Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”

He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”

“I trust you.”

You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.

You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.

And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.

So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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annymation · 9 months

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The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 7- Inspire Them

Chapter 6

“You’re… a star?!”

“You guessed it!” Aster exclaimed cheerfully, flying down to the ground while doing backflips in the air, until he lands in front of her with a bright smile on his face, he bows down like a prince formally introducing himself to a princess.

“Good Asha Lucero, you have given so much happiness to others, you deserve to have your wish come true.” The star speaks more eloquently now, and it feels like these lines where rehearsed, that's because they were, for he's actually just repeating what all wishing stars say to their wish makers when they come down to earth, like it’s protocol.

That line is a reference to what the Blue Fairy says to Geppetto.

“So it shall be my honor tooOO-OH MY GALAXY IS THAT A RABBIT?!?” He sees a rabbit coming out of the bushes and gets distracted… Again…

As you can see, Aster’s not very good at following wishing star’s protocol.

Asha watches as the teenage star flies by like lightning towards the little critter, she's blown away trying to process that this is actually happening and not just a dream, wanting to ask a million questions while at the same time she's completely speechless. So all she can say in a stutter is “Umm y-yeah it sure is hehe” To answer his question. She can't help but chuckle seeing how the star is so amazed over something so simple like a rabbit.

Aster holds the rabbit’s ears up, the animal seems confused but not really minding it “Awww they're way cuter seen up close… And I was right! I told them rabbits had big ears!” The star claims victorious.

Asha tilts her head to the side “Huh? Told who?”

“A few neighbors of mine that make up the lepus constellation, see?” Aster points up to the sky, to a constellation that looks like a rabbit with very tiny ears “I told them rabbits had cute BIG ears, but they insisted their formation was good enough, it’s like they don’t even care for accuracy, really” They say while looking up with a smug, shaking his head slowly, it's like he's thinking "I told you so".

Asha gazes upon the night sky, her eyes sparkling just like the stars “… Y-yeah I guess the ears are pretty tiny hehe” she suddenly realizes what Aster just said implies... Aster is not the only one. She quickly turns to them perplexed “Wait wait slow down, are you telling me ALL the stars... ARE ALIVE??” She's breathless, looking back up at all the stars like a deer mesmerized by headlights.

Aster can't help but chuckle, she's so amazed over something that, to him, is so simple “Heh heh not aaaaall of them, but most of them, yeah." Aster explains casually while letting go of the little critter. The star turns their attention back to Asha, gazing at her with a friendly smile while floating close to her, observing her with curiosity.

Asha on the other hand is still gazing up to the night sky as she says, her voice filled with astonishment "My father used to write that we had a connection with the stars but... I could never imagine they’re actually people!" She turns back to look at Aster, her voice barely above a whisper "… Much less that they come down when they’re wished upon"

"Oooh we don’t usually come down to help at all, I’m just here because you’re a special case, Asha" Aster says, floating around her like a fish swimming in circles.

“I am?"

He stops flying around, now just floating right in front of her to explain why he's there in the first place “See, when it comes to wishing upon a star, like myself, NO request is too extreme..." He stops for a moment as if to think how's the best way to continue his point "Although... your request to save your kingdom from the clutches of two evil rulers is… Well … A lil bit extreme, just a bit, not gonna lie… heh heh" They say sounding more high pitched and awkward than before.

"Yeah... I know" The girl looks down slightly

Aster lifts her head gently to look at him, giving her an optimistic smile "That is, too extreme for you to do it all by yourself, that’s where I come in!”

Asha’s enthusiasm slowly returns "So... You'll grant my wish? just like that?" She snaps her fingers to indicate how easy and quick it'd be.

Aster hates to bring somewhat bad news, but he tries to explain it the best they can “Eeeh no, hehe not exactly, I can’t just fix everything in the blink of an eye, that’s more of a genies thing, ya know?” They clarify while creating a genie's lamp with their star dust, manifesting it above his hand to illustrate his point.

“Huh, I see” Asha is surprisingly not disappointed by that at all, she honestly didn't think it could be that simple, besides, just having any help at all is more than enough "So what can you do?"

“Oh I can do a lot! Watch, hey Valentino!" Aster flies down, now face to face with the little baby goat "What do YOU wish for lil buddy?"

Asha looks puzzled "I thought you couldn't grant wishes"

Aster giggles as he looks up to her, the star is floating barely above the ground but he's posing like he's laying down, with their hands behind the back of his head "Hehehe It's easier to explain if I show you, but let's just say I can grant simple wishes, however, the stronger it's the want in the wish maker's heart then the more I can do!"

"Maaa! Maa!" Valentino bleats out happily to Aster

Aster eyes sparkle with excitement upon hearing the goat's "words" "OO-HOHOO now THAT'S a strong wish! You got it buddy, here ya go!" He sprinkle some star dust on Valentino, to which the goat gladly eats all of it. Asha watches curiously, waiting to see what could her goat possibly have wished for...

And Valentino talks

"Did it work- *gasp* It did! I'm tawkin I am tawkin!" The little goat giggles, adorably hopping around the two of them, Valentino's voice is cute and high pitched, he sounds like a toddler.

Asha lets out an "awwwwn" with a huge smile and her eyes wide. She sits down to hug Valentino, not able to contain herself with such an adorable display.

"You sure can bud! Now go on, make your wish come true!" The star cheers while floating above the two of them

Asha looks up to Aster confused "Huh? But you just granted his wish"

"Nuh-uh I just wanted to say one thing, I wanted to THANK YOU!" The baby goat exclaims, nuzzling closer to Asha in their embrace "Thank you for always taking care of me! You're the best fwiend I could ask for!" He finishes, licking her nose.

The girl stares at her baby goat, completely overwhelmed by the cuteness.

"Soooo yeah, I can make animals talk! Pretty neat huh? But that's just the tip of the ice be-" Aster notices Asha was quiet, too quiet "Uuuuh you're ok?"

"*sob* yeah I-Im fine *sniff*" She hugs Valentino while petting him, sobbing at the sweetness in his voice. She really needed to hear that after the day she had.

Aster doesn't understand what sad tears are though, so they assume he just made a huge mistake "oh OH NONONO- IM SO SORRY I-I THOUGHT YOU'D LIKE IF HE TALKED D-DON'T WORRY ITS NOT PERMANENT! HE JUST WANTED TO SAY "THANKS" P-PLEASE DON'T BE SAD" The star is panicking, flying around and flailing his arms uncontrollably.

Asha dries a little tear from the corner of her eye and smiles at Aster "Hheheh calm down, I'm not sad, really, I just got emotional that's all"

Aster looks relieved at that, he calms down as he flies down to sit next to her

"Maaa! Maa!" Valentino is back to not talking.

"Oh so it really wasn't permanent" Asha says, as Valentino leaves her arms to hop around and eat some grass.

"Like I said, all he wished for was to say thanks, now that he did so, he has no need to speak anymore" Aster explained calmly

Asha had a thoughtful look for a moment, her eyes light up as she pieces it together in her head "... Hmm I think I get it, so you just gave him what he needed to fulfill his wish himself" Aster nodded his head quickly, excited that she got it right, Asha continued "So... What about my wish though, how will you help me grant it?" She asks to the wishing star sitting next to her.

Aster’s already big smile widens even more with the question, as they fly upward and lifts her up with one hand "I’ll be your guide! Give you all the tools you’ll need to succeed! But of course, the only one who can make your wish come true is YOU!” He boops her nose, making some star dust fly around her face

Asha feels a sense of joy come to her when the star boops her nose... But even then, the thought that everyone is depending on her makes her feel all her fears and insecurities come flowing back.

“Me? But they’re the king and queen of that whole kingdom and I… Well, I don’t even know WHO I am in all this” She admits, looking away from the star for a moment, her gaze is distant.

Aster can sense her sadness returning, and the spark of her light glowing dimmer as hopelessness fills her thoughts. His eyes turn to the side for a moment, pondering how he can rekindle her spark and make her see what he sees... Eventually, his eyes lit up with an idea, literally making his hair shine brighter like a lamp bulb turning on.

"Weeeeell I can't tell you who you are neither, that's something only you can figure out." Aster begins with a playful smile, flying to be face to face with her.

Asha notes how those words are a direct contrast to how the royal pair kept saying she needed their help to find out who she is. The star word's caught her attention.

"BUT if ya ask me, I think I might have an idea of who you are in "All this". So allow me to elaborate in the best way I know how… EVERYBODY HELP ME OUT!"

Aster exclaimed, calling upon all the living things of the forest. He uses his magic to bring all the trees and flowers to life, as well as making all the animals able to sing and dance.

And so, we get my version of "I'm A Star."

This song is quite literally the opposite of what “Wish Away” was, if "Wish Away" made Asha feel small, like she couldn’t do anything on her own and NEEDED the king’s magic, “I’m A Star” is doing the opposite of that, making her feel as grand as a celestial body, like she can do anything, and Aster is just there to land a hand, but only she can reach her dreams, and she CAN do it.

I’m A Star

[Verse 1]

Have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers? Or blow dandelions in the wind? Asking them to better your chances Why throw a dime down a well? While you know that's no spell

(Aster begins to sing, extending his hand up to the sky to present all the beautiful stars above. Asha looks up to them, but before she knows it Aster grabs her attention again by pulling from behind her ear a dandelion made of star dust he just created, he shows it to her while singing the second line, Asha instinctively blows it like she indeed always did as a kid. Aster then flies away from her and to a wishing well in the woods, he makes a coin with his star dust and throws it while not even looking at the well, his gaze is still focused on Asha as she watches him sing attentively)

Things passed down generationally, to you Yes, I hear And to some unbelievers those are shoddy fallacies But have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers?

(Aster makes the trees come to life, happy faces appear on them as they dance along with he music, Asha watches them in amazement, she starts getting into the mood of the song, with a giddy smile on her face. She answers "Yes, I hear" to Aster's comments, because she indeed grew up with these traditions of wishing upon dandelions, wishing wells and stars, but not thinking those will magically solve all her problems, it's just a first step to set her goals. As he sings the final line, Aster flies to above the trees, reaching to the stars with a determined and confident smile, Asha looks up to him with her eyes shining... Suddenly Aster flies back down doing backflips in the form of a ball of light, and hits the ground the song makes a "THUM" before the chorus kicks in)

[Chorus]

Well, you don't have to look too hard I'm here for all your question marks If you're tryna figure out just who you are Don't look far

(Aster stands up as soon as they land back on the ground, the animals of the forest now all sing to help him with the chorus. Upon singing the second line, Aster hits his foot on the ground, making a trail of light glow underneath the earth like roots (It's like Elsa hitting her foot down when making the castle during Let It Go), that make a giant flower grow under Asha, lifting her up to above the forest, the giant flower blooms during the third line. Asha is on it covering her eyes in fear for a moment, but Aster flies to be in front of her, taking the hands off her eyes as he sings the last line, making her look at him, he gives her a reassuring smile, making all her fears go away)

In the sky, and your front yard In your heart and in the scars If you really wanna know just who you are You're a star…

(Aster pulls her by the arms and they jump off the flower, Asha is once again startled, but when they're about to fall Aster makes another giant flower bloom, that catches them just in time, they hop on that flower and Aster once again pulls Asha to jump again, this time Asha fully trusts them and jumps without fear, knowing they'll make another flower for them to jump on. They do this during the two first lines, but as Aster sings "If you really wanna know just who you are" they spin around in the air holding Asha's hands, they both twirl in the air together before Aster throws Asha up to the sky, she floats with a little bit of Aster's star dust on her, and she looks in awe to the stars above her... Before she thinks of what Aster just said, now her face turns into confusion, as she immediately falls down in his arms)

[Verse 2]

What! But you just said YOU'RE a star! Uh-huh! Well, yeah, but you're up to par Cause' while I do bring that magic intervention Only you can reach your destination!

(Asha and Aster are now back in the forest, Aster just caught her in his arms, and Asha promptly questions what he means by saying "She's a star" when clearly he's the star here. Aster puts her back down as he answers that yes, he is a star, but he explains Asha is just as magic as he is, Aster makes some star dust flow from his fingers like tiny fireworks as he sings "Magic intervention". A bunch of animals show up around them and sing in harmony the last line. Asha looks at all of them in surprise. The whole forest is lit up with colorful lights thanks to Aster's magic.)

See, I'm more like that lil voice, in your head That suggests when you can't find your path ahead So even though I can't do all of the work for ya I'll make sure it's enough for you to shoulder!

(Aster suddenly is tiny, the size of a hand, dancing on Asha's shoulder. He whispers in her ear that he's the little voice in her head, and once he sings "Path ahead" he makes a golden path appear in front of her, made of star dust. The animals all happily follow that path and encourage Asha to follow along, she hesitates for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and makes a run for it, making little Aster fall from her shoulder as he sings the last line)

[Verse 3]

A wish is a dream that comes from your heart So I've dropped in just to do my part With my magic we'll make that dream go just as planned But I'm sure that by now you already understand:

My wish... depends on me? EXACTLY!

(Asha walks through the path, accompanied by the animals, they sing the first line to her melodically. There's some butterflies flying around her too and Asha gazes upon her overjoyed. Aster flies along side her, posing like he's laying down relaxing, saying how he's just there to do his part. He then uses his magic to create even more shiny yellow butterflies, seeing how Asha seems to like them. The music plays drums as Aster sings "But I'm sure that by now you already understand" and the butterflies fly around Asha in circles, one of them fly to her finger, Asha looks at it as she asks "My wish... Depends on me?", she sounds unsure but she's almost understanding. Aster yells the answer with contagious enthusiasm, making the butterfly on her finger fly away"

[Chorus]

For you don't have to look too hard It's all around and not too far If you're tryna figure out just who you are You're a star!

(Asha is suddenly picked up by a Iberian red deer, running with their herd behind them, all of them singing the chorus, she holds on to his horn with a smile as Aster flies in front of them lighting up the path ahead, the deer she's riding sings to her "You're a star")

Do you know you're a work of art? Even in the deepest dark If you really wanna know just who you are I'm a star!

(Aster sings the first two lines along with the other animals, while looking at Asha with eyes full of admiration. Asha however looks in shock ahead, pointing to him they're running to a cliff, Aster notices and as they jump off the cliff Aster makes Asha float with his star dust, holding her close to her with the full moon behind them, they look at one another in the eyes for a second...Valentino was also on one of the deers, and comedically passes by floating and singing with his baby voice, even though he has been "off screen" so far.)

[Verse 4]

Some say that's just too ordinary Like us stars just ain't necessary 'Cause I'm no legendary genie Granting wishes one, two and three!

(We cut to Asha and Aster back on the ground in the middle of a flower filled, Aster makes all the flowers glow like stars, making the woods beautifully lit up with splashes of color and light all around them. As Aster sings "'Cause I'm no genie legendary" he makes a yellow lamp just like the one from Alladin and hands it to Asha, as she holds it she hubs it, and out of it comes three Asters, completely yellows as they're made of star dust, each one shows up in the rhythm of each number in the line "One, two and three")

Well, my friend, just between you and me I'm way more fun, 'cause, you see I'm here to guide and make you believe YOU can write your origin story!

(Aster snaps his fingers making the lamp and all the three clones disappear in a poof of yellow glittery dust. He's now holding Asha by the shoulder and speaking close to her ear like he's about to tell her a secret as he sings the first line. He offers her a hand as if inviting her for a dance, Asha gladly accepts it and they both dance together around the dancing trees and animals. Aster lifts her off the ground and twirls her around as he sings the last line, Asha looks down at him with a radiant smile, she seems to really like that idea)

[Chorus]

You don't have to look too hard It's all around and not too far If you tryna figure out just who you are You're a star!

(Asha and Aster dance together, they hold hands an almost begin to do a waltz before Aster always changes to a more free style dance. The animals sing the chorus and copy them, with some rabbits dancing while holding their paws together, and some birds flying together in harmony with the music, Valentino is dancing to along with the animals. Aster boops Asha's nose as he says "You're a star")

No matter where you end or start We're both each other's counterparts If you really wanna know just who you are I'm a star! (Wooh)

(Asha is filled with delight as she dances freely, without a care in the world, she feels as if she could fly. She watches all the magic that surrounds her with pure wonderment in her eyes, she finally fully accepts what Aster and all the other creatures in the forest are trying to tell her, as she exclaims "I'm a star!" and all of them cheer.)

[Post-Chorus]

Ooh, I'm a star Watch out world here you are (Hey, hey) You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?) Me, I'm a star! (Wooh) Oh, you're a star! Watch out world here you are! (Hey, hey) You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?) You! You're a star

[Outro]

Ha-ha-ha, wooh Yes, wooh Ah-ha-ha, ho-ho

(Aster makes a light shine on Asha like a spot light, as the animals all watch her dance by herself, feeling fully confident in who she is. The star keeps hyping her up, overjoyed that her spark is back. Aster flies around her as she dances, he sings the last lines praising her, while making the flowers and leaves fly around them like colors of the wind from Pocahontas, but on the last line both him and Asha point at each other when saying "You! You're a star" and their fingers touch each other when they point. The two of them find that amusing, and on that adrenaline high energy that can only laugh and cheer together. Asha falls on the grass, laughing with overwhelming joy and exhaustion after all of this, Aster lays next to her as he celebrates.)

Asha and Aster are laying down, laughing on the grass. Flowers are growing around Aster because he's so happy. Asha is more out of breath, since ya know, unlike Aster she actually breathes. Some animals that helped Aster as backup singers start to leave the scene

"Wooh! That was great! Thank you for the help fellas!" Aster thanks the animals for their help, still laying on the floor with Asha as he waves them goodbye.

"Any time buddy!" "That was fun!" "We should do this more often!"

The animals chit chat as they leave the pair and Valentino alone in a small clearing in the forest. The girl and the star are now both gazing up to the stars while Valentino is sitting next to them, also looking up.

"Sooo did I explain well enough?" They asks her, genuinely wanting to know since this is the first time he explains to someone how wishing stars work.

"Yeah... I'm still trying to process this is all really happening and I didn't just fall from the tree branch and hit my head... But yeah I get it.” Asha says, still out of breath after everything that happened “So you’re here to help me… I assume you're all caught up on what my problem is, right?" Since he's magic she assumes they might as well know everything.

Aster confirms her assumption "The king has been changing people's wishes for years. And he changed your wish so you would become a princess locked up in a tower by sun rise, yup yup I'm all caught up" Aster elaborates quickly, while trying to smell some of the flowers that grew around him, but disappointingly realizing he can’t smell anything.

(Aster has been keeping up with the rewrite y'all)

"I have no idea on how to stop them" Asha breathes out, her voice comes out as almost an whisper

Aster is still staring at the stars as they say "On your own it would be pretty hard" But then he turns his head to look at her "But lucky for you, your magic guide here already got it aaaaaaall figured out" They have a cheeky grin

Asha sits up in surprise "You do??”

"Yuuuup!" He begins to illustrate his plan using his star dust, creating the image of the castle "King Magnifico is gonna release the wishes from his tower any minute now" the star dust castle illustrates the wish bubbles coming out of it, then Aster creates the image of a sleeping Asha with his other hand "While you sleep, I'll keep an eye out for that cursed wish bubble the whoooole night long, then when it shows up I can just grab it before it reaches you" Aster illustrates the wish bubble approaching her, and he grabs the small orb with his own fingers.

“And just like that you... You can stop it from coming true?” Asha asks slowly, it feels almost too good to be true.

“Of course! That "wish" turned curse won't get even close to you while I'm around here” He sits up as he says confidently. He then chuckles a bit at that, realizing the irony “Heheh it’s kinda ironic ain’t it? A wishing star stopping a wish from coming truuu- wOAH“

Aster is caught off guard by Asha hugging them.

“THANK YOU! ASTER THANKYOUTHANKYOU THANK YOU!!” Asha isn't usually much of a hugger, but in this case she just can't contain how happy and relieved she feels “Aster I was just… So scared, you have no idea, that they’d take me away and- Thank you...“ She finally feels like everything will be alright

(She doesn't know she's in a story written by an angst loving writer, so everything will NOT be alright my friends)

Aster is... Well this IS their first hug, ever, it feels very foreign to him... It feels… New.

The star can't quite describe what it is, it's like happiness but somehow... Stronger... If someone was to describe this feeling to him, he'd think it couldn't be true.

They return the hug of course, holding her tight as his eyes close shut “Heh don’t mention it, I’m your wishing star, of course I’ll protect you.”

(hmmm would you say you’d protect her… At all cost????)

Aster wanted to stay like this for as long as they could but... Suddenly some quiet orchestral instruments start playing in the background, they sound messy and without harmony. Aster's eyes are shot open and they quickly lets go of the hug "A-and everyone else in Rosas too, since ya know, that was uh- your wish heheh" he stumbles over his words nervously.

Asha doesn't notice the awkwardness in his voice, she just gets up, feeling her confidence returning, reassured that she does have a chance of winning with Aster by her side.

"… Yeah- YEAH! We can do it, I can make them see the truth, now that I have your help!" She speaks passionately, ready to take on anything the world throws at them "What can we do to save everyone else?"

Aster flies off the ground, looking just as excited as her "I'm glad you asked! Here's my plan" Once again, Aster uses his star dust to illustrate his plan quickly: "First! We get in the castle. Then we free all the wishes. Everyone gets their wishes back. They all learn that they should make their wishes come true through their own efforts. BOOM. They get "Something more for them than thisss"!" he sing songs the last phrase at the rhythm of "This Wish"

Aster eagerly waits for her reaction to his… “plan”. Asha is smiling but... She knows that's a terrible plan, however, she doesn't want to be rude.

"Umm... Its a good idea but... I think we can workshop that a little bit." She says as kindly as she can to not hurt the star's feelings.

"Yeah yeah of course! this is OUR plan after all" Aster is floating like he's laying down on his cape, like it's a hamrock in mid air. The star is over confident that this is indeed the perfect plan.

Asha takes a deep breath before explaining "Well... If we simply free the wishes, I don't think the people of Rosas will want them back, you know? They want their wishes GRANTED by the king himself, it would take a lot of convincing to make everyone want to grant their own wishes. Not to mention most of them were changed by Magnifico so now they're curses."

As she speaks Aster start floating down and down and down with every word, realizing the situation is a bit more complex than he expected, he's sitting on the grass now with his legs crossed.

"... Huh... I didn't think about it that way" He admits, sounding a mix of embarrassed and disappointed in himself "This... Guiding thing... Might be a bit harder than I thought" their voice is quiet as his hair that moves like a flame (I don't think I've emphasized this enough, his hair is a reference to Hades hair, ITS ALWAYS MOVING) starts to shine less brightly.

Asha notices the star insecurities, so now it's her turn to cheer him up, she sits next to Aster and holds their hand. Aster's eyes light up when he feels her hand on his, he listens attentively to what she has to say

"Hey don't worry, it won't be easy, but thats okay, we just need some time to plan this out, together. You said it yourself, right? You can't do all the work for me, and I don't want you to. Just having you here to help already changes everything... I'm really glad you're here, Aster" She gives him a warm smile, her eyes locked on his.

His hair lights up again, even brighter than before, and more flowers bloom around them. "... Yeah, I'm glad I did come down here." The star says, a smile growing in the corner of his lips, his eyes sparkling. Aster doesn't have a heartbeat but if he did it would probably be beating like a storm in their chest.

Asha is quite literally oblivious to the effect she just had on him. She simply gets up again and changes the subject. "We can think on a plan tomorrow, now I gotta go home and-" She stops, realizing that if she goes home she's gonna have to explain everything to Dahlia "Oh my-how am I gonna explain YOU to Dahlia and her parents, or explain why I ran away like that... " She places a hand on her forehead, now walking side to side worriedly.

Aster starts floating again, with a knowing smile on his lips "Mayyyybe you can sleep in a different house tonight" They state with a childlike mischievousness in their voice

Asha looks at them confused "Huh? What house?"

Aster turns her head with one finger, making her turn around to looks what's behind her.

"How about that one?"

Asha then sees...

(Pretend this picture is at night time please)

"That's... That's my old home, where I grew up" Asha feels a warmth in her heart, it's a feeling of nostalgia and comfort, she hasn’t been in there for a long time.

Aster still has that same knowing smile, his eyelids are relaxed as he comments "Really? Huh what a coincidence..." it's not like he guided that whole musical sequence to lead them here or anything- what? What you talking about? "WELP let's get in then!" The star flies to the door like a dash of light.

"W-wait Aster, the door is locked-" Asha warns him but-

Aster uses his magic when touching the door, making it glow yellow for a moment, and just like that, It's open "Not for me, it isn't heheh"

Asha smiles, yeah, of course they can open doors too.

We have a small time skip, cutting to them inside the house. It's a cozy small cottage with, even though it looks a bit dusty from it's time abandoned it's still quite organized. It's faintly lit with candles, but Aster's hair and cape pretty much light up the whole place a lot more.

Valentino is soundly sleeping on a pillow, while Asha is sitting on the dinner table, drawing on her sketchbook... Drawing Aster of course, because what else would an artist do if they met someone who was literally 2D animated in real life?

(“But Anny shouldn’t she go to sleep?” SHE WILL GO TO SLEEP AFTER I GET MORE CUTE INTERACTIONS OUT OF THEM)

She's also eating some berries that animal critters got for her offscreen, ya know, because Aster asked them to, and she didn't have dinner. While she draws, Aster is flying all over the place, taking a closer look at EVERYTHING inside the house.

"Wow, I could never actually see how human houses looked like from the inside! It's way more spacious than I thought"

Asha can't help but laugh at that statement "Ha! Now that's funny coming from someone that lived in SPACE, which I gotta ask... How was it like? What did you do up there?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity

"Oooh ya know, the usual, watch the birth of super novas, throw asteroids as far as you can, sometimes guess where a new solar system will form next, just a bunch of boring stuff" The way Aster says it makes it seem like those are the most mundane things ever. He says while admiring a fork in his hands.

(Ariel coded. Aster is Ariel from space y'all)

Asha hears the star describe all those things in awe, after all she also really likes astronomy.

"None of that sounds boring at all, and I still got a thousand other questions!" She says excitedly

Aster is just as excited to answer them. But then he notices Asha's sketchbook is open, that gives him an idea.

"Well then ask away! I'm an open book, or rather..."

Aster jumps INSIDE her book, shrinking down to the size of her finger, now he's black and white, and is animated with more rough sketchy animation, as a reference to animation tests, like this (2D Mirabel my beloved)

GIF by scurviesdisneyblog

"I'm IN an open book! heheheh" He giggles, there's no reason for them to do that other than he wanted to see if it was possible, and of course it is.

Asha looks at the now moving Aster sketch on her book, she's stunned for a moment, but then again that's not even the most impressive thing Aster has done today.

"O-Okay so umm, you mentioned earlier that not all stars are alive, right? Just some... So how does a star gain life?" She asks, like she's interviewing him for research.

Aster walks around the pages of her sketchbook as he explains "When we are wished upon for the first time by a mortal! I got my first wish about 18 years ago more less, and that's when I gained life" He jumps to a different page, now with some animal sketches drawn on it.

"Oh... We're the same age then" Asha mentions, somewhat surprised, but at the same time it does make more sense than Aster being a 100000+ year old, after all he acts like just a teen… When he’s not acting like a kid that is.

"Guess we are! Happy birthday by the way!" Aster says as he brings some animal drawings to life, they begin to run around him "Hehehe Though can you imagine if you WERE my first wish maker? I would've shown up here looking like a new born star, an actual baby, now that'd be awkward wouldn't it?"

(...Yeah Aster, that would be very strange... Thank goodness it never happened... Am I too salty?)

"Heh I guess so, and uh do ALL the stars look and dress like you?" She goes on to the next question.

"We always pick a different form depending on what's more fitting for our wish maker, I picked this form because… Well- You were in need of help like a princess in a fairytale, so I thought the princey looking clothes would fit the occasion" Aster's now in a different page with the drawing of a tree, he's hanging around from the branches

Asha is slightly put off by the comment, she had enough of this "princess talk" after what happened in the castle that night.

"I am NOT a princess though" She corrects him with one eyebrow raised up.

Aster drops from the tree branch "Oh I know! You're just pretty like one" He says innocently, like he's just stating something that's clear as day.

Asha blushes, getting flustered by that sudden compliment... She didn't expect a literal star to find her pretty.

(NEVERMIND HE LITERALLY SANG "DO YOU KNOW YOURE A WORK OF ART EVEN IN THE DEEPEST DARK" A FEW MINUTES AGO LIKE GURL HE IS NOT BEING SUBTLE)

"Heh heh wow-okay um... Honestly when I first saw you I assumed you were like... A sorcerer or something" She tries changing the subject, assuming they're just saying that to be nice.

" Pffft a sorcerer?! Nooo nonono if I wanted to come off as a sorcerer I would've dressed myself something more like this"

He snaps his fingers, changing his clothes to look like Mickey’s sorcerer apprentice outfit, because Disney reference babeeeeyyy.

"Though the hat is a bit too big isn't it? I don't think it suits me heheh" He chuckles as the hat covers his eyes.

Asha giggles at that in amusement "Hihih I think you look great either way"

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows through the window. The pages of the sketchbook flip rapidly because of the wind, throwing Aster off the book

“WOOOOOOAAAH!!!” He screams as he gets back to their normal size, before he knows it he's thrown inside a closet

Asha gets up instantly to check if he’s alright "ASTER?! YOU OKAY?" she asks worried

The star is just laughing without a care in the world, laying inside the closet full of old belongings of Asha and her family. "Woooo hahahah yup! Need more than a little wind to-“ Aster notices something in the closet that caught his attention “Hey, what's this?" Aster gets up from the closet, holding a mandolin.

"Oh… that's my Saba's old mandolin, I guess I forgot it here" Asha looks at the instrument with a smile that was somewhat nostalgic, but also mournful. She expected the memories of him would come flowing back by them just being in the house, but it still caught her by surprise.

"Did he play?" The star asks curious

"Actually... No. I never seen him playing it, I even asked him to teach me a couple of times but he was never interested" She sounds sorrowful as she passes her fingers through the cords.

"Huh... I see" Aster can kinda guess why that is… But they prefer to keep the information to themselves.

She's still paying close attention to the instrument in her hands, looking at it with downcast eyes "You know… I wish he did teach me, I don’t know how to play any instruments… But Saba always seemed disinterested in-“

Asha notices Aster started shining brighter and giggling more than usual all of the sudden… Also he’s shaking his arms around rapidly, leaving smear frames like he has multiple arms, ya know since he’s 2D. Soooo yeah, they’re stimming.

“Umm... You doing okay Aster?" Asha asks holding the mandolin close to her.

Aster floats now with his face is close to hers "You "WISH" you say?! Weeeell I can help with that!" His voice is full of glee, like the simple word “wish” coming out of Asha’s mouth filled him with energy

"Y-you can? But how? You can’t change the past" Asha is more confused than ever

"Nope! Buuut I can use my magic to give you a taste of what it would’ve been like if he DID teach you! Here, let me try something”

Aster extends his hand, asking her to hand them the mandolin, Asha isn’t sure where this is going but she trusts the star completely, so she gives it to him. Aster begins spreading his star dust on the cords of the mandolin, making them shine brightly. The cords start playing many different melodies by themselves, as if every song ever played in that instrument is being played again all at the same time. Aster then makes that shine on the cords return to him, the mandolin stops playing and now Aster has a light flickering on the tip of his finger, you can almost hear the faint sound of music coming from that light. Aster reaches out, getting that finger closer and closer to Asha's face

"Aaaaand BOOP!” Aster boops her nose with his shiny finger, making stardust sparkle around her face. She blinks a few times, not understanding what just happened. ”There! Try it now!" Aster says as he hands the Mandolin back to her. Asha looks at the mandolin, then back to Aster, who’s staring at her with a big smile, eager to see what she’ll do next.

She holds it to try playing it, not sure what since she doesn’t know any songs- wait...- But she DOES. Asha’s eyes light up when she realizes that now she can remember so many melodies in her head, like the knowledge was always there. The chords, the music notes, it all comes naturally to her as much as speaking and reading. And so, her fingers dance through the mandolin, creating a beautiful melody, a smile grows on her lips.

"Woah I- I can play it now!" The girl says cheerfully

"Yup!” The star boy flies upwards quickly, glad they could make her happy granting one simple wish… Thought he knows there’s a “but” “But it's not permanent, you'll only know how to play till tomorrow's strike of midnight" Aster explains while walking around upside down on the ceiling.

Asha looks up and asks "Why midnight?"

The star shrugs “It's always midnight" he answered simply "Anyway, it may not be the same as if your grandfather taught you but... At least you can get a feel for it before trying to learn at your own pace"

Asha chuckles a bit with that notion, most people would probably be upset if they only got to know a talent for one day, but she’s more than happy with just knowing how to play it NOW, and yeah, she can try learning how to play by herself later.

She looks at the instrument as she says:

"Thanks, Aster. Though I don't think I'll have the time to play it tomorrow, we gotta figure out how to defeat the king and queen, remember? And I doubt knowing how to play the mandolin is gonna help us heheh" she says that last part laughing a quietly to herself, how silly would that be? To defeat those villains with music.

"Yeah I guess it won't..." Aster speaks in a disappointed sigh while still pacing around the ceiling, sad that Asha won’t get to enjoy her wish tomorrow… But then… an idea pops up in the star’s head. His hair lights up like a lamp once again. The boy JUMPS and does some backflips before landing on the table with wide bright eyes and a huge smile. "What if it COULD help though???" He exclaimed, now standing on the table.

"...What?" Asha asks with one arched eyebrow

Aster starts walking circles on the table like they’re thinking on the details of their new plan "Wait wait wait let me think... Yeah YEAH I KNOW! Asha! YOU can INSPIRE THEM!" Aster says pointing a finger to Asha, smiling ear to ear.

"Inspire who? Huh?? What you talking about???" Asha is now hugging the mandolin walking backwards, not understanding what’s going on right now.

Aster tries lowering his energy as he speaks more calmly "Think about it, why did the king and queen want your wish soooo much in the first place?" He asks, now sitting on the table with his legs crossed.

"Uuh because they're evil" She states the obvious fact with a deadpan expression.

"Ok yeah that too- BUT they wanted it because they were afraid you could INSPIRE people, that's their weakness! They depend on the people believing in them, trusting them with their wishes, so if we want to win we gotta. Break. That. Trust” He says emphasizing each one of the last three words by hitting his finger on the table.

"And you think we can do that... By playing music?" Asha gives him a look that can only be described as an “… seriously?” Expression, she’s not confident in that idea, not in the slightest.

Aster on the other hand is just as confident in that idea as he’s confident that the sun will rise tomorrow. So they continue:

"It's a start, you can inspire the people of Rosas with music so that they at least THINK about wanting to pursue their own wishes, you said it yourself, that we could only return the wishes to them once they learn they shouldn't depend on king Magnifico" Aster says, now floating closer to Asha with that same bubbly smile that doesn’t seem to ever leave his face.

Asha tries to patiently explain to him why that’s not a good plan "Aster, it's a lot more complicated than that, I mean, how would we even know if I'm actually changing anyone's minds?"

Aster doesn’t miss a heartbeat and exclaims "I'd know!"

"…huh?" Asha eyes squint.

The star once again has his face reeeeally close to Asha’s, their noses almost touching, so she looks him directly in the eyes "I can SEE people's beliefs! Their wants! Their dreams! My eyes can see all that as plainly as a smile on someone's face. If, or rather, WHEN anyone feels inspired by you, I will know" The star is shining like the sun now, somehow it doesn’t hurt Asha’s eyes though, but she still not fully convinced.

"And you... Really think I can change their minds?” Her voice is full of doubt now, both in herself and in the notion that the people of Rosas can ever change that easily “I was seen as a weirdo in the kingdom for years, and after what happened today... They must see me as something worse, how can I change anything?" She looks at the star with a saddened expression.

And once again, Aster reassures her with a bright smile and some words of wisdom "You just gotta believe, believe in yourself all the way, implicitly and unquestionably-

(That’s uh… that’s a reference to an Walt Disney quote, cause like, I’m shocked that Disney’s 100th anniversary movie had none of those, and also it’s really fitting for Aster’s character… sorry for the interruption, let’s keep going)

- believe in yourself as much as I believe in you! I'll be there to help you. It won't be easy but we gotta start from somewhere, right?… And I REALLY think if anyone can inspire them it's you, Asha."

The thought never crossed Asha’s mind before but… The way Aster talks to her almost feels like they know her for a long LONG time… But maybe that’s just how wishing stars talk to their wish makers in general. Asha thinks for a moment… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at least try…

"... Yeah I guess... It does sound fun to play music with my saba's mandolin like I've always wanted...” She looks at the instrument, but then a worrisome thought came to her, she looks back at Aster and asks “But how are YOU gonna be there with me? We can't let people see you"

Aster smirks as he starts floating towards the entrance of the house "Oooh hohoho way ahead of you! Watch this.” He gets out, closing the door behind him. Asha sees a huge flash of light coming from the windows, she looks at the door confused until… Aster walks back in. Emphasis on WALKS, not float. For he’s no longer a 2D animated glowing boy… He’s 3D just like Asha and all the rest of the environment. Asha is startled for a moment because she almost couldn’t recognize him now that he looks like… A real person.

“Ta-da!” He says walking in while twirling around, showing off his new form. His cape no longer has star dust flowing out of it, and his blonde hair no longer moves nor shine, and the star mark on his right eye is gone.

All Asha can say is amazement is “...Wow”

The star was just interesting to look at before, since he was a moving drawing. But now… Now Asha felt a bit more when looking at him, her heart starts beating faster.

Although he does looks like a real person his movements feel… Off, like their animation is in a different frame rate compared to everything else, his movements are slightly quicker.

(In case you haven’t noticed yet Aster is a walking animation study)

"Pretty neat huh? I feel so heavy now hehe" He jumps a few times, like they’re getting used to the gravity

"Wait wait wait did you just turn yourself into a human??" Asha asks while walking towards him to take a closer look.

"Naah, I wish." He whispers the "I wish" part more to himself "This is just a disguise, all wishing stars have one, though I can't actually use my powers while in this form" The boy says while checking his new appearance on a mirror hanging on the wall "But hey, not like I'll need my powers to help you inspire people, that will be all you! I'll be there just to hype up the audience" He says excitedly

Asha feels her insecurities creeping in at the mention of an audience "... We can't bring too much attention for ourselves though, SPECIALLY from the king and queen, they'll probably think that cursed wish changed me, so they'll be looking for me"

"I can keep an eye out for them… Aaaaand" Aster runs towards the closet he fell in earlier, and grabs another item that caught his attention beside’s Sabino’s mandolin… It’s a purple bluish cloak, the same cloak from the movie that references the fairy godmother’s cloak.

“My mom’s cloak…” Asha says warmly as Aster hands the piece of clothing to her

"They won't recognize you like this, from the top of their palace you'll look like just any street performer" The star's voice is filled with trust that everything will be alright, and Asha feels that trust too as she holds the cloak close to her heart.

"Yeah... Okay, we'll do it! Tomorrow morning at the plaza" Asha announces decidedly

“Alright!" The star jumps up, realizing he can't fly in that form so he looks slightly confused when he lands back down, he feels a bit embarrassed by that "Heheh... But hey, speaking of that cursed wish of yours... shouldn't the wishes have already been released from the tower?" Aster says looking out the window.

"... I honestly don't know what time of night the king usually releases them, I'm always already asleep when that happens... *yaaaawn* and speaking of which, I should probably go to bed now" Asha says, walking to her old room with tired eyes

"Great idea, I'll be on the roof to watch out for that cursed wish!" The star says as they turn back to his 2D appearance so they can fly to the roof

"Good night, Asha!"

"Good night Aster"

Aster flies to the roof and lays down, to protect Asha. The young star relaxes looking up to the night sky.

…

And then

We hear the sound of instruments.

Violins, flutes and bells all playing quietly but erratically.

We then see a new emotion that Aster hasn't displayed before form on his face...

Aster looks annoyed.

The young star rolls his eyes, speaking in a tone reminiscent of a bothered teenager

"Wow, I barely even started and you guys already think I’m doing this all wrong? A little bit of trust would be nice"

The instruments play again, as if to answer to what he just said

"Yeah I knooow it's gonna take a while to grant this wish, but hey, if it was a simple wish I wouldn't be here in the first place, now would I?"

The instruments play again, more aggressively

"I may be young but I deserve to be here just as much as anyone else... I know I'm doing things differently but... She needs me"

The instruments play again

"NO THIS IS NOT-"

He stops himself from yelling, Asha might hear, he looks up to the stars with a glare.

"*sigh* This is NOT about me wanting to stay here longer than I have to, I'm just doing things MY way, just give me a chance, I know what I'm doing..."

…

Silence.

…

All Aster hears now are the sounds of the night, like crickets and the wind

The star turns their gaze now to the castle in the distance

“… I know what I’m doing.”

Chapter 8

Final thoughts

Does he though?

And WOW that was a looooong chapter of just two characters talking to each other huh? Well I hope y’all enjoyed the cuteness because it’s aaaaaall going downhill real soon :3

So just getting one thing out of the way, about this last scene of Aster talking with the stars… I wrote that whole scene while listening to “I’m still here” from Treasure Planet to get my head in the misunderstood teen vibe, just so you guys get an idea.

It’s not like Aster was faking his upbeat personality,obviously not, they don’t fake anything, it’s more like they have layers… like an onion 🧅. With Asha and everyone else he’s the happy optimistic little ray of sunshine that believes wholeheartedly that “🎶No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, that dream that you wished will cooooome true🎶” and all that jazz.

BUT with the stars, he’s treated like a kid, when they feel like a teenager and wants to be treated as one. My point is he’s more than a happy face, he’ll have an arc and be a rounded character.

And don’t worry, the stars ain’t antagonists, they’re more of a true neutral party. Just observing… Yeah.

And if you think “that plan of inspiring people with music is not a good idea” why yes, I know, but that’s Aster plan, aka the guy who takes ✨If you believe you can do it✨ as gospel, and don’t get me wrong I agree with believing in your dreams, but Aster will come to learn what that REALLY means, and what it really means to be someone’s guide.

This plan WILL lead to something good for Asha and Aster… buuuut it’ll also lead to something real bad, so ya know, Aster gets a reality check, and Asha will get some character development… Yippee 🥳

Hope you guys enjoyed this Magnifico and Amable free chapter because they’re coming back right in the beginning of chapter 8 hahaha say bye bye to the good vibes.

As always

Thank You For Reading!

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ari-the-arotistic · 11 months

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So I was thinking about pirates of the Caribbean, and each characters unique moral code and way of approaching life, as one does, when I remembered a particular scene about our beloved James Norrington... the very first scene in which Jack and James meet. Now, as a long time Sparrington shipper, I adore the Sparrington fandoms adopted head canon of Jack's compass pointing directly at Jack when James is holding it as having a romantic connotation too it, but this is Disney we're talking about, and a Disney from 20 years ago at that, so it is of course just a head canon. And while it is a beloved head canon, I will always be a writer before a shipper, and what that scene says about Norrington from a writer's perspective is far too juicy not to share... So buckle up for a very long meta post about who James Norrington is as a person, and how it was set up in this scene(and later reinforced in the second and third movie). This is my first real meta post, and I'm very excited for it, so let's jump right in.

First of all, the compass scene.

As we can clearly see in the image above, since the red line that points to the object of the holder's desires is no where to be seen, its relatively easy to conclude that it's hidden from our view by the sun dial in the middle, and thusly is pointing directly at Jack. Elizabeth is off to James's right, and no one is standing behind Jack, so unless the compass was pointing at something in the far off distance that just so happened to be in Jack's general direction(unlikely) its pretty clear what(or who) the compass is pointing at. For most potc fans, this is fairly standard knowledge. But it's what this fact says about Norrington's character that I'd like to focus on. After all, what does it say about a man that a compass that shows you what you desire most is pointing at a pirate, and the very face of piracy at that, instead of your canonical love interest, when you're a Commodore of the Navy? As stated above, Sparrington shippers often point at this scene as proof that James has a bit of a pash on the ruggedly handsome pirate, or at the very least, a thing for men. But from a writer's perspective, this just simply isn't the case, and not because the writer's in this instance are the notoriously homophobic corporation we call Disney. The reason why this is so unlikely from a writing perspective is because given the context clues, we as an audience are meant to draw the conclusion that this is the first time that they meet(I have heard rumors of them meeting as children in the books, but having never read them, and focusing only on the movies, I'm not including that in this post). And since this is the first time they've met, it's highly unlikely that the compass is pointing at Jack because James has a bit of a thing for him. Even if James has heard of Jack's many exploits, he does not truly know the man behind the legend, so having romantic feelings for the pirate at this point in time just isn't believable. And even if James was a closeted gay/bi man, it's still unlikely that the compass would be pointing at Jack of all the men around the Commodore(of which there is a lot, some of whom he is incredibly close with) seeing as Jack is the poster boy of piracy, and at this point in the movie it's made abundantly clear that James vehemently detests the notion and all who practice it. If James were to be holding the compass in Jack's vicinity in later movies and it still pointed at the pirate, an argument could definitely be made that it was because he had developed feelings for Jack, but for their first meeting, it's just not realistic. So it's much more likely that the reason the compass is pointing at Jack is because of James's desire to send every pirate he meets to "a quick drop and a sudden stop" as he so eloquently put it to a young Elizabeth. This is further reinforced in the third movie when it is revealed that Beckett's desire to have Jack dead at his feet would prevent him from using the compass to find Shipwreck Cove if the pirate was not already at the aforementioned location, or, well, dead. This is again, relatively common knowledge. But like I said before, it's what this fact says about James that is the whole point of this post... and that is that James cares more about his career than anything else, even the woman he claims to love. Now for some, that statement alone might seem like a pretty obvious conclusion, but it's how this scene subtlety sets up this core aspect of Norrington's character before we even truly get to know who he is, and how it's brought to it's full height in the second movie, and the core aspect of his redemption and subsequent death in the third that I'd really like to talk about. Which brings us to the next segment of this post...

How James lost his commission to the navy...

And how he got it back

So let's start off with how James lost his commission... it's a story we all know pretty well, and one he tells to Gibbs in the scene shown above, when he plans to either join Jack's crew or get revenge on the man that(he believes) ruined his life. After Jack's escape in the first movie, James grew obsessed with capturing the pirate, so much so that he foolishly followed the Black Pearl into a hurricane, resulting in the sinking of the Dauntless, and the loss of countless lives that had been aboard the vessel. It's unclear aside from James himself who had been on the ship at the time, and who did or did not survive, but the death toll was heavy, with most, if not everyone who wasn't James, having perished in the storm. While it is not the most extreme example(which we'll get too in just a bit), this is a pretty clear example of James prioritizing his career above everything else, even reason and logic. And all just to capture a singular pirate, even at the cost of his own ship and crew, and rather ironically, the very career that he had been so desperately trying to hold onto in the first place. Which brings us to the next scene I'd like to discuss... James stealing the heart of Davy Jones. This moment is the absolute peak of this part of James's character. This is the moment where James takes his obsessive need for his career to the max. This is the moment where James truly prioritizes his career above everything else, even the woman he claims to love(and for Sparrington shippers, above the man he's reluctantly come to care about). At this point in time, when James decides to take the heart for himself to regain his old station, he's been on the Black Pearl long enough to know the full situation. That Jack is in some kind of trouble with Davy Jones, and that if Jack doesn't use the heart to bargain for his freedom, then the Kraken will hunt Jack, and subsequently the Black Pearl, down until he and everyone aboard are dead. And that includes Elizabeth. And yet, despite knowing that stealing the heart would basically mean sealing Elizabeth's death, he still decided to do so. Sure, the argument could be made that he thought Elizabeth would be able to escape somehow, but the chances of her dying at sea, or some other terrible fate befalling her before she could safely make it back to civilization would have been highly likely. Of course we as an audience know that this isn't the case, but James does not. So essentially, James was so obsessed with his career, and maintaining the image of the honorable Commodore that he didn't even truly register that he was putting Elizabeth, the woman he loves and has been trying so desperately to woo for the past two movies, in danger. And he won't fully realize the consequences of his actions until the third movie, in a deleted scene no less(I swear when I find whoever decided to delete some of the most important scenes to James's character...), when Davy Jones informs Governor Swann of his daughters untimely demise on the Black Pearl. Of course, almost immediately afterwards, Beckett retcons that statement by informing the Governor that Elizabeth was recently seen in Singapore, but for a few minutes, James has to sit with the fact that Elizabeth was dead, and it was his fault. And even after learning that she was in fact still alive, James has now finally come to the realization that if she had still been on the Black Pearl when it sank with its Captain, he would've been the one to send her to her death. And for Sparrington shippers, James has to sit with the unavoidable fact that he was the reason Jack had died(even if the pirate does come back), despite the fact that it was Elizabeth's betrayal that was the final nail in Jack's coffin, since she wouldn't have had to do that if the Kraken wasn't after them in the first place. Which brings us to the final scene I'd like to discuss...

James choosing a side, and paying the price

Now, before we fully delve into this scene, I'd like to take a moment to talk about James's own perception of himself, and his relationship with honor and integrity. From the very first scene in which we meet James Norrington, we are made aware that he has a strong moral compass. He firmly believes piracy is evil, and that all who partake in piracy deserve a swift end. He perceives his Commodore persona as being the paragon of honor and integrity, and the sole arbiter of justice. We can infer from the line "By remembering that I serve others, Sparrow, not just myself" that James does have honorable intentions when ridding the world of pirates, that being protecting the innocent citizens under his care, but as seen once again in the first time James and Jack meet, wherein James adamantly tries to arrest Jack despite the fact the fact that pirate had just saved Elizabeth's life, his actions to achieve that goal are not always quite as honorable as his intentions are. This is especially highlighted once again when James gave Beckett the heart of Davy Jones. James's intentions here were once again rooted in honor and integrity - he believes that the only way to keep people safe from pirates is too return to his old station, to the image of honor and integrity he had built around the title of Commodore, and the only way to return to his old station is to give Beckett the heart. But the action itself was far from honorable, seeing as James had to betray the woman he loved just to obtain the heart, and that he was now putting it into the hands of a dangerously unstable individual who planned on using it to commit mass genocide.

And now, we finally get to the scene above... Of course, it's made clear throughout his scenes in the third movie leading up to this one that James is already starting to regret giving Beckett the heart after seeing the damage being caused, but since Beckett is targeting pirates specifically(although we as an audience know that Beckett's definition of pirate is very loose) James figures that the ends justify the means, as he often does in situations regarding piracy. It is not until his reunion with Elizabeth, where he learns that Governor Swann is dead, and that Beckett lied to him about the Governor's whereabouts, that James truly realizes the enormity of his mistake. It is in this moment that James has a sudden realization that fundamentally shakes him to his core, and is the reason behind his change of heart later on. He realizes that the honorable Commodore persona that he had tried to cultivate and keep a hold of for so long had never been truly honorable at all, and that by giving Beckett the heart of Davy Jones, he had effectively tied the noose around the neck of his own honor and integrity, as well as the necks of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent people, with his own hands. And as that one vine goes, this was the moment James knew, he fucked up. Which leads to his decision to change sides in an attempt to redeem himself, and his subsequent death in the process. Of course, part of James's reason for helping Elizabeth escape was that he does care for her, but given everything I've detailed about him so far, I think it's safe to say the main reason that James decided to help Elizabeth and her crew was because he wanted to undo the damage he had done, and he had faith that Elizabeth, Will, and Jack would have some sort of plan to defeat Beckett, and stop any further damage to come from his mistake. And now, for his death scene itself... As much as I love the idea of James surviving and joining the pirates(whether at Elizabeth's side or Jack's is unimportant), I firmly believe that his death was a necessary end of this part of his character arc, and that if he were to survive he would still have to go through a major ego death for this part of his character arc to end properly. Because as Bill turner drives that wooden pike into James's gut, it's not just the physical death of his body, but also the metaphorical death of Admiral James Norrington, and the ideals that James had used to build the persona out of. So even if James survived, the Admiral would still have to meet his metaphorical end, thusly causing James to lose a core part of himself that had been guiding most his decisions so far, in the process, which would start the next part of his character arc, where he would have to deal with the loss of a key part of his personality, and rebuild himself from the ground up to finally, truly become the image of honor and integrity he had envisioned from the beginning.

And that concludes this very long post. I could probably wax enough poetics about this aspect of James's character to write a short novel, but I've said everything important to this post, and if I go on any longer, I'm likely to start repeating myself lol. Thank you for reading, and feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or a reblog! I will always love hearing more about our polished peacock <3

#pirates of the caribbean #james norrington #jack sparrow #elizabeth swann #cutler beckett #davy jones #sparrington #norribeth #meta #potc meta #a character study of james norrington

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thorntopieces · 27 days

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assorted pjo/hoo headcanons

autistic!will. i mean. i was one of the first people to write it (and post it on ao3, but i had stuff about it on my long gone old blog before then). this is true. to me. it's not incredibly obvious unless you know what you're looking for because 99% of the time he's eloquent and very passionate and maybe it's just the hyper healer in him and he'd like to think he passes well. but for people who know they can just tell. it's the voice, man /gn. gives you away every time /lh

pots!hazel. she ends up (mostly!) recovering from the fainting episodes associated with her flashbacks but still faints and feels unwell a lot of the time. she spends a lot of her energy and magic on staying conscious and aware, leaving her foggy and with flare-ups. will ends up diagnosing her half-way on accident during the three days nico stays in the infirmary. she doesn't faint a lot, but she will frequently have her vision black out when she stands and feel nauseous if she has to stand still for more than ten minutes (more or less depending on the day). together with jason and nico the three of them make up the fainting trio

reyna speaks excessively formally and politely when she's uncomfortable and the moment she feels safe around you she will just loosen up completely. it becomes very clear very quickly how much of her time is spent being uncomfortable

genderfluid!lou ellen. most of the time she's happy to be referred to as a girl, but some days it just feels wrong and she prefers to be referred to either gender-neutrally or masculinely. it's not something she's out about to anyone but her closest friends, partially because there's kind of enough stigma around being the child of hecate and also, it's not all that obvious, even to her.

nico is a bit like a social interaction vampire. he's not as shut off as others seem to think, he just needs to be given explicit permission to talk about his interests because he's worried about annoying other people, especially after bianca essentially abandoned him. he could talk for hours and hours about his special interests (because yes, he's probably autistic too) like mythomagic (he picks it up again with percy's encouragement), ancient languages and literature

will and katie (gardner) friendship. they bond over liking star wars and when lou ellen join their circle she manipulates the mist to recreate scenes from the movies. as she gets better at it she manages to make the light sabers glow, much to will and katie's delight

after the battle of manhattan and will/kayla/austin almost dying from being overworked, the camp gets together with mr d and chiron without the apollo kids' knowledge and figure out how to run the infirmary in a more sustainable way than just forcing apollo and athena kids to be there. eventually they settle on apollo kids doing 8-hour shifts but none at night unless someone is severely wounded. for the night shift, other campers work in rotating pairs where one sleeps for the first four hours and the other for the last four hours. a lot more campers gain appreciation for the amount of work the apollo (and athena) cabin put in to keep them alive and healthy and the apollo cabin doesn't die of burnout

t1 diabetic!kayla. she's been sick with it since she was six, but thanks to having a very supportive dad and a team of professionals around him considering his status as an olympic archer, her condition is well-managed (most of the time, war time is unpredictable) and she knows how to treat and manage it considering her demigod lifestyle. accompanying headcanon to this: while ambrosia and nectar is mostly to heal injuries and wounds of a divine and/or serious nature, it can short-term manage blood sugar. mortal intervention is always needed to fix the problem though. a bit like how narcan delays but can't entirely fix an opioid overdose

cecil wasn't properly accepted as a child of hermes at first considering he didn't express exceptional skills at the more obvious and everyday traits associated with the cabin (multilingualism, athleticism, thievery). first when he was found to accidentally being an exceptional saboteur was he properly accepted by the rest of his siblings. due to this he tended to hang out with the unclaimed children in the hermes cabin rather than his own siblings, especially lou ellen

hjs!cecil (hypermobile joint syndrome; double-jointedness). he's not good with most physical activities because of this and easily discouraged to even attempt most sports due to how his cabin alienated him for not being exceptionally agile, a trait associated with their cabin. it's not uncommon for his wrists and ankles to not work well (such as the twisted ankle in boo). however, he feels like he "compensates" for this by working in the shadows. when properly encouraged and supported, he prefers fighting with knives (close combat or throwing), relying on being obnoxious to throw the enemy off

#pjo #hoo #will solace #hazel levesque #lou ellen blackstone #nico di angelo #katie gardner #kayla knowles #cecil markowitz #my headcanons #i have not posted headcanon lists in like what *seven years* i feel old now but here i have some thoughts #they're random but they're true to me #<- says this but will accept even contradictory headcanons because it's more fun that way #disclaimer that i havent read most of toa yet but i know what happens because idc about spoilers #pjo tag

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vickyvicarious · 1 month

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So, I noticed something kind of interesting today. Seward's diary never mentions Renfield by name. And that's not totally out of the ordinary for him - I went back and looked, and there are several other times so far that he doesn't name him (18 June, and 1, 8, and 19 July). But in each of those entries, Seward is entirely focused on figuring out Renfield; nothing else is discussed at all. Not naming him is simply because each entry is continuing the same thought/preoccupation. And in fact, on both the 8th and 19th, he calls Renfield "my friend" - the lack of name is not due to emotional distance.

But today it felt more like that. We haven't heard from Jack's diary since the 24th of August, when Renfield escaped on his own terms briefly rather than taking the intentional opportunity given to him. That whole "plan" was a huge unprofessional mess on Seward's part, and I wonder if he realized that at least a little. He went quiet for a good few days, until he heard from Arthur, and then in his treatment of Lucy we see him being a much better doctor and friend than he's ever been to Renfield. Where he's drugging Renfield to sleep so he can go through his journal, with Lucy he is very respectful and makes sure he has consent to share medical information. And so on. Obviously he thinks of Lucy and Renfield in very different ways and has different standards for what is acceptable to do - or even considered as an option.

But I still find it interesting that when we see him writing about Renfield again, this first entry feels a lot more removed than before. It feels like Seward is trying to be more professional and less emotionally involved. He names Renfield at the start by his supposed disorder ("Zoöphagous patient") and at other points refers to him again by role ("my patient") or what he represents ("a wonderfully interesting study"). But he never calls him by name or by any more affectionate nickname such as 'my friend'. He also notes his madness multiple times, musing about madmen and lunatics and wishing he could understand his mind.

A part of me wonders if there is a slight element of Seward recognizing just how out of control his own behavior was getting, and trying to rein it in. It would make sense for him to be doing so either after the escape plan went wrong (and Renfield was furious with him in particular, and he ended his entry saying he'd never forget that night) or after the company of people like Lucy and Van Helsing helps to sort of forcibly reconnect to friends who keep him more humane/sane himself. As well a patient he deeply cares for and wants to treat respectfully (Lucy) potentially making him feel a bit off-balance in how he is treating his 'other' favorite patient (Renfield).

I do have to point out how all of this more distant wording is just dehumanizing Renfield in another way, of course. And it doesn't seem like much about Seward's actual behavior has changed - he still folds pretty easily in the face of Renfield's "cringing" supplication/flattery, and thinks he is indulging him in order to better understand. He still is obviously fascinated by him and takes a strong personal interest in his care. But it feels a little bit like the way he talks about it is at least trying to be more distant.

...Though maybe that's partially just his melancholy. Seward talks multiple times today about not understanding/wishing he could understand Renfield. And for the most part, it reads as more frustrated/downtrodden than previous times. He doesn't have much speculation to offer until the very end of his entry. Is it possible that he is feeling a bit upset about not being able to figure out Lucy's illness, and it's spilling over?

And there's of course the really eloquent line in the middle of this entry describing how he feels returning to "all the grim sternness of my own cold stone building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own desolate heart to endure it all." That makes it sound a lot like his time with Lucy and Van Helsing (and talking to Arthur) was really good for him. He needed this friendly socializing, and even if the circumstances weren't ideal, he got to spend time with people who genuinely care for him. Who aren't just using him when they ask for things, who are just as eager to help him, who like him for who he is and have fun being with him. And then he goes back to the asylum.

He doesn't truly like it here. It's not good for him, he's at his worst when he's isolated here. And yet I wonder if, upon his return today, knowing Van Helsing has left and that he's returning (at least mostly) to his customary isolation, he feels much more aware of that than ever. In the past, he's thrown himself willingly if not eagerly into his work, but even the fascination he still feels doesn't seem to boost his mood today. I think he's feeling lonely.

I also think he's feeling a little bit of resigned "this is where I belong" and his more distant language reflects that. It's not just Renfield, after all. It's Lucy, too - he's been calling her by first name in his letters to Arthur, but today in his private diary he calls her "Miss Westenra". And it's not just because he's talking out loud, because he's called her "Lucy" in his diary before. So the more formal address today seems to fall in with the pattern happening with Renfield too. He feels alone, he feels lonely, and so his wording displays less connection to others.

#dracula daily #jack seward #he's still visiting lucy regularly of course but still the feeling of isolation seem there #dracula meta #my meta

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anothertransauthor · 1 year

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Ok I’m antsy to write something starting out just to see what I can do. I’m going to start with the ABC sfw list first for the band + Charles. If you want to see any additional characters you can comment or ask!

ABC Headcannons (SFW) Nathan Explosion

Summary: like I said this is Nathan’s full ABC list. I’m going to be as detailed as I possibly can for your viewing pleasure ;). I’m feeling Pickles or Murderface next.

Warning: slight angst // dipping into they’re toxic traits they’re learning to overcome

Word count: 4,410 words (oops!)

.. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nathan is a bit apprehensive at the start of your relationship due to his rocky previous ones. He likes you, don’t get him wrong, but he’s never really gotten the chance to get so close to someone like he has with you. He’s still trying to wrap his head around how he hadn’t scared you away when he thought you were just some fan. Still you wiggled your way into his Iron Maiden heart, open for you to remove the defensive impalers he’d put up.

After he’s learned to accept the affection you bestowed upon him graciously, and patiently might I add, he uses the tactics he’s learned from you to be a better boyfriend. He asks about your day, genuinely enthralled by your voice. Nathan swears he could listen to you for hours even if you really weren’t talking about anything.

Massaging his shoulders and back was always the key to calming him down whenever he was insatiably irritated. He figured it would surely get his message across to you, who doesn’t love the intimate act of vanquishing the poisons of a stressful day with your own hands? It didn’t matter where you were, if you weren’t having a good time he’d find some way to expel the tension. Say you were backstage with the band after a show and you were overwhelmed with the lights and the noise, he’d take your hand and gently massage it thoroughly. He’d roll his thumb pads over each finger, each knuckle- no joint left aching. Even if he only held one hand, every inch of that hand would be tended to. If they were cold, clammy, and anxiously shaking, they were surely warm and quelled now. Despite Nathan’s stature, despite his large hands, and despite what his attitude had lead you to believe, he was gentle with his hands.

When all else failed, Nathan resorted to what he was best at to convey just how much he adored you. Writing was always Nathan’s go to outlet to organize the scrambled thoughts in his mind, it’s apparent in his music- brutal poems that paired with equally intense music. Racing thoughts and far away words always made more sense when he put the pen to the paper, the unmoving paragraphs further cemented everything he felt. You had started a notebook to house all of the eloquent letters he’s written for you to remind you that at the end of the day you were the one he’d return to. Your heart was home to his.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

Nathan is all about going out and doing things with people he’s particularly friendly with. Expected to go on your fair share of road trips and lots of camping. It’s all the activities he enjoyed with his dad, he considered him a friend so why wouldn’t he bring his friends along for the experience?

You never took Nathan to be a survival buff, but given his himbo nature you weren’t that surprised. He’s taught you a lot about being in the wilderness whenever he had time between records.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh my gods, if his arms aren’t constricted around you he will not sleep well that night. Your warmth has become so incredibly soothing to him, he falls asleep almost as soon as your head rests on his chest. Nathan is essentially a 250 pound teddy bear at the end of a rough day where all he wanted to do was wind down with you. He really enjoyed how your smaller frame slotted with his, how natural it felt to wrap his arms around you and stay like that forever.

Nathan had a 3 point plan when it came to his night time routine with you; Step one: acquire the snuggle bug (a nickname he’d drunkenly bestowed upon you when you both retired to his room after a drinking contest with pickle), Step two: profit, Step three: uhhhhh. Ok so maybe it was more of a two point plan, but his point still stands.

If the secret softie couldn’t fall asleep as fast as he’d intended, he’d watch the rhythmic rise and fall off of your chest as you slumbered peacefully against his big burly chest. His hands would slip under your shirt to rub your back, or stomach depending on how you slept that night, in idle circles. The feeling of your skin no matter if it was smooth or blemished, he never cared either way, soothed him more than he thought it could. You were real, you were here- with him! And gods did you look exhilarating in his arms, trusting him completely as you dreamed.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There was something in Nathan that constantly made him want to impress you as your relationship grew increasingly more docile. He picked up more around the areas the two of you occupied most at Mordhaus; cleaning up the empty beer cans and putting away any stray bongs or other illicit drugs that were littered around the main room the previous night, or he’d take the time to clean his room and bathroom a tad more he usually would when it was just him. It was never about getting a deep clean, he wasn’t embarrassed to have you over when his room was messy, yet something about you made him more motivated to do more than just sit on his ass with you.

Settling down never crossed his mind until you, that was always something he’d associated with parents and old people- you settled down when you wanted to start a family and give up your career and anything that gave you substance. It was always love or hate when he thought about it. On one hand, he absolutely loved you and wanted to spend his life with you. His parents always seemed so happy with each other even after all the years they’d spent together, so maybe it couldn’t be too bad. Yet on the other hand he wouldn’t give up the band or the empire he built for you, you never wanted him to.

Who said you two had to slow down or give up to settle completely into each other? Nathan’s wanted to settle up with you, so he’d said, to never slow down or stop experiencing the fast life he was so accustomed to.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The way Nathan would break up with you depends on how deep he was into the relationship with you. He wouldn’t have any qualms about bluntly telling you to stay out of his life if he wasn’t feeling it, and he would tell you the moment the thought arose. He’s been with a few women who’d overstayed their welcome and he’s learned not to dance around it if he wanted the comforting discomfort of his loneliness back. Alternatively, if he’s been invested, gave a shit, and was receptive to you opening your soul to him, he’d be more delicate. Whether it was a fault on his end, or you had finally had enough of his baggage he could feel it. He could feel when your laugh didn’t hold the same joy in it like it used to, your eyes didn’t look at him with the enthusiasm he’s grown accustomed to anymore. When Nathan noticed the signs, it was the most brutal pain he’s ever felt, emotionally that is. He never wanted you to feel like you were trapped with him, it’s just as bad if not worse for sticking around just because he was famous in his eyes.

Much like his affection for you, the man has to put all of his feelings, all the words he has left to say to you, and his best wishes for you all on paper. It’s not a script mind you, more of a practice for how he’d approach you. He felt pitiful as he stood in front of his mirror as you slept in the bed just feet from him, mumbling tiredly as he rehearsed the best approach. Nathan didn’t want to completely break your spirits or guilt trip you, the only thing that has brought him joy was your happiness and even if you had to find it with someone else he’d be content knowing you weren’t forcing something that had died out a long time ago.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The moment he felt like he could talk to you openly without the guard of his walls, he knew he wanted to be yours forever. Mind you this would be over the course of at least a couple of years as you grew with the band. He was a busy man and in the beginning he’d rather do anything else that sit down to have a conversation he thought he’d regret at the time.

And now here he was five years later, the best version of himself that he’s been in gods knows how long, commissioning a ring he’d deem as the perfect oath to you. He’d been planning this for the last six months, between working on the music and getting his band mates to swear on their lives that they wouldn’t fuck anything up the time has passed him by. When everything was perfect he put his plan into motion. While on some vacation he’d pull you aside, away from the band and any prying eyes and propose to you. He’d been so caught up in not crying that he definitely didn’t notice Pickle and Toki recording him while skwisgaar recovered from his preemptive cringe to see everything went surprisingly well.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

While Nathan was essentially a brick wall, he has learned to carry himself a bit lighter while he was around you. He used to be heavy handed whenever he handled you but since then he figured out how to turn the brutality meter down. Not to say he didn’t rough house with you, play fights were a guarantee.

Emotionally, it took several trials and tribulations to find that sweet spot he could handle. While he did figure out how to talk a bit easier with you there were still certain topics he’d be blunt and a little hurtful, though it’s never his intention. There’s just some things he needed to work through himself before he drug you into it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Nathan’s arms are two heavy magnets when it comes to you. Anytime you were cooking, washing dishes, or hell just standing around, you’d come to expect Nathan to hug you from behind at any given moment.

He’d also liked to pick you up just to marvel at how light you were! He also enjoyed how you’d instinctively wrap your arms around him but don’t tell him I told you that. Any time he could have you like that he would, most often pulling you in his lap no matter where you were (it was also a tactic to scare any wandering eyes).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Just like with the engagement, he would tell you the moment he knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. It took a lot of time, you showing your love for him through your actions so you didn’t scare him off. Nathan is grateful for it and it certainly had him thinking about it. With each passing day he grew more confident that his feelings were concrete.

When he told you, it wasn’t anything special, hell if you ask him he probably wouldn’t remember what you were doing when he did. You could have been laying in bed, you humming a soft tune and he was just laying there. Whatever the case was he wanted to catch you in your most candid moment, being the you- the person he fell for, before he finally said those three magic words.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

It’s Nathan fucking Explosion. You were the one thing he truly had any incentive to keep for himself and himself alone. If he so much as catches anyone glancing your way they caught his cold intimidating glare in response. He knew better than to make a scene, the first incident nearly killed you with how embarrassed you were. He definitely pulled the “do you know who I am” card and slung a few swears, very loudly might I add.

He would take every step he could to keep you close to prevent anyone from making that move. Every possible chance he could get you were in his lap, leaning against his chest, or wrapped around his arm. It was definitely something he needed to work on, but it was gonna be a bit of a bumpy road. For now you appreciate the thought behind it at the very least.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

You had actually initiated the first kiss, but when he found his footing he found it. He was breathless as he watched you crawl over him, wanting to do something but didn’t want to scare you incase you changed your mind last minute. The kiss grew fervent quickly as his lips molded to yours in his own sloppy rhythm.

Usually when he was itching for a kiss you’d catch him staring at your lips and then quickly away nonchalantly. Other times, he’d turn your face from what ever you were doing or whoever you were talking to to steal a quick one. And no matter the length or intensity he always held so much passion with each connection.

Nathan was a sucker for kissing the top of your head. Whatever shampoo you used always seemed to lull the giant into a docile state as he hugged you from behind. Pickle mentioned it as something akin to witchcraft how fast you could switch up his mood. Alternatively, when he’d lay his heavy head in your lap he’d occasionally turn his head to kiss at your thighs. No matter how small or thick they were he adored how comfortable they were to lay on.

When it came to receiving, he was fairly partial to cheek kisses. It tickled him how gentle you were with him not matter what you did, even though you knew he was the farthest thing from fragile. As unbrutal as it was, he couldn’t help but enjoy every attack you’d unleash upon him, smothering his face in peppered kisses. In addition, he liked getting neck kisses, not even in a sexual way. Lately he’d say the most metal thing was waking up to your partner grazing their lips against his throat before following it up with a proper good morning kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children were very rarely an obstacle Nathan had come across, even when he did he had at least nough common sense not to act like a complete jack ass around them. He’d goof around, tell a grey joke and generally just get along until they could be done with the whole situation.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Nathan usually slept in so you were up before him most mornings. The man almost always had an iron grip around you preventing you from moving until you, playfully, threatened to piss the bed. Then you’d earned yourself a half asleep “ick” before the heavy limb was begrudgingly removed from you.

When both of you were finally ready for the day, the first thing you did together was stuff your faces with breakfast food and down some black coffee to shake off the rest of the sleep that plagued your systems. After a brief discussion of what your respective plans were for the day you’d go on about your separate ways.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It was never a guarantee when you’d settle down on any given night. Nathan was a busy man after all, and that included when he wasn’t doing anything music related. You couldn’t complain that’s just how the band was. Nearly constant procrastination to get stuff done was the only unchanging factor, so you were dragged around to all their adventures and shenanigans.

When you did finally retreat to the bedroom at the end of the night, the first thing on your itinerary was climbing into a shower. Lately Nathan’s skin has been breaking out from the stage makeup he wears, but fear not for you figured out a skin care routine for him. And it started with you helping him wash his face properly in the shower. Man has a 6-in-one that he uses for everything.

After showers always consisted of sitting on the bed, wrapped in towels while you talked about any and everything to procrastinate actually getting dressed and settling down. Remember how I said Nathan procrastinates everything? When you finally did get up to get dressed you very rarely went to your own closet, instead you opted just to take one of Nathan’s massive shirts so you didn’t have to sleep in pants.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It didn’t take long to realize that you weren’t going away that easily, and it took even less time for him to realize that you weren’t like a ‘normal’ fan of his. You had confided your fair share of secrets in him that he thought he wouldn’t care about. He found himself holding onto every word you said and realized that maybe he should let you in the metaphorical door. Usually it was small details or a look into how his thought process goes.

Whenever he told you something new it was seldom prompted. It was like you’d stumbled into a secret area in a video game while you were exploring, and the character you’d been trailing with suddenly drops some lore without warning. Despite how odd his patterns were it made him all the more intriguing to you, learning about him as an individual and putting the puzzle pieces together.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Patience was like a generator for him, the less stress he had plugged in metaphorically, the more patience he had. But as more and more things were piled on the battery drained faster. He tried not to be irritable around you, you never in your time with him ever gave him a reason to be mad. He didn’t want you to be in the splash zone if he snapped.

The only exception to the battery rule he had was if anything happened to you. He can remember all too vividly being at some bar full of regular jack offs with you and the band. Someone where in the background while you and the band were laughing about something Pickle had said, a bar fight had started. At first Nathan shrugged it off, it was annoying but it didn’t ruin the atmosphere. That was until one of them threw a half full bottle of Natty Light just above your head, having missed its initial target. The glass shattered and nicked your shoulder, the remaining booze that splashed didn’t do much to help the situation as you winced hardly at the stinging.

None of the band knew Nathan had hopped over the table until they heard him toss a couple of rage filled swears at the culprit.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Having always been slow to learn things, Nathan took it upon himself to keep a section of his notebook dedicated to your favorite anything. It could be as small as your favorite color or as important as an allergy you’d mentioned so he didn’t accidentally gift you something you couldn’t eat/enjoy. He would challenge himself to memorize important dates and names you’d told him in passing to surprise you when he asks about them later.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?)

The singers favorite moment in the time he’s met you would probably have to be the first time he heard you sing. As insignificant as it may seem, he did really enjoy your voice.

He was walking back to his room after having a particularly frustrating conversation with Charles. When he grew closer he could hear muffled noises that sounded like humming. Slowly, he opened the door to see you standing by the window, looking out over the rest of Mordhaus as you sang. It was a song he’s never heard but you carried it so well.

Nathan shut the door quietly and made his way over, any frustration he had faded into the back ground. His arms wrapped around your waist and he had to bite back a chuckle as you squealed. The moment was short but it was the softest he’s felt for anyone ever, and he has you to thank for that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Much like the jealousy segment showcased, Nathan is usually on top of everything when it comes to your protection. He’s a fuckin brick shithouse so he can handle anything physically. During the course of your relationship with him, he’s most likely hospitalized a small country worth of people who tried to make any kind of move to hurt you— being in the spot light did have its risks you know.

Security ran deeper than just what he could do physically. Having to overcome fear and rejection, he’s learned a small handful of coping mechanisms. He uses that knowledge to help you whenever he recognizes the signs of panic or in general just discomfort. Sometimes you’d have to remind him that you’re ok, that it wasn’t that serious. He just worries about you!

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Nathan’s parents were always he blueprint when it came to his perspective of love. When he got famous he never thought he’d reach it, but now that he has you he’s ecstatic to use every trick he’s observed in his youth. On dates and anniversaries expect a plethora of cliche gifts: big bouquets of roses, stuffed animals, jewelry.

He engraved each and every date that something important has happened on in his brain, and also written several times on calendars and in his notebook, so there was absolutely no chance he’d forget anything. He’s working with Charles to plan events and parties for your anniversary, the big fancy ones and not just something he’d usually throw together with the guys.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Nathan tends to shut down some days when he’d have a particularly bad dream…speaking of he’s rather private about his dreams. Any time you’d ask what was on his mind he refused to elaborate further than just “mm’bad dream..”

He was a diva in his own way, if it wasn’t perfect it wasn’t accepted. So many albums lost, green rooms wrecked, tours nearly ruined. Though it makes you uncomfortable to see him regress to tantrums sometimes, you chalked it up to the fame. These moments were small in comparison to your relationship as a whole.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Nathan takes at least some pride in his appearance, anything so he didn’t fall to Williams level. He did have an Old Spice 4-in-1: shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash. Why have so many products that all smelled different? It was a lot on his senses so he uses that so all of him was clean and smelled like…wait what did the bottle say? Congealed Liquified Corpse…it was a Dethklok x Old Spice collab. Brutal name aside, it actually made him smell earthy, piney even— it was a joke in a bottle.

Shower practice aside, he did the basics when it came to his actual appearance; he’d comb his hair, brush his teeth, wipe his ass. It did the job well enough and he was ok with how he looked.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely he would, you’d become his home. You domesticated the beast and he was forever putty in your hands. Without you, he’d feel lost. There was no hole in his heart, it was just gone— you were his heart. Any time you had to leave for some other business Charles had you doing, he’d just mope around alone in the room if he wasn’t distracting himself with the band. Even then, the party felt incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Nathan is very fluent in French, like he sounds like he grew up speaking it. He most definitely sweet talks you in French. Alternatively he would get away with saying the most outta pocket and down right filthy shit to you and no one has a clue until they see you quickly turn red.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In a partner, he really doesn’t want just some fan— he’s been burned way too many times. They’re shallow and don’t even want to know who he is as a person, it’s slimy and not to mention very one sided.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

See his thre- uhh two point plan, in the cuddle section. He won’t sleep well if he isn’t tangled up with you. In addition if you sleep with any kind of noise going on, he’d adapt and now he can’t sleep without anything going on in the background. Noticing his infatuation with the ocean lately, you introduced him to whale songs to sleep to and boy howdy is he out like a light whenever you turn it on.

Ok I got a little carried away, but I’m really proud of it! Let me know what you think of my big pushover- aha!

Keep those requests in coming! I’m loving the ideas so far. Up next is trans! Pickles x gn! Reader! What’s the plot? No body knows, babe! It it will certainly be an adventure that’s for sure!

Stay tuned, dethfans!

#metalocalypse #dethklok #x reader #nathan explosion #metalocalypse x reader #dethklok x reader #nathan explosion x reader #gn reader #Nathan is such a pushover I’ve decided #you have no fucking idea how long this took #I planned to have this out two days ago #tumblr mobile app keeps glitching on save ugh #anyways keep the requests pouring this is so fun!

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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 1 month

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As someone who writes and someone who reads a lot of writing, I have something I'd like to say to other creators.

At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, I never leave comments. On anything. It's actually a habit I'm actively trying to break out of as I get further along into my writing career because I know how much comments mean to me and so I want to provide that for the creators I come across.

But the grand grand grand majority of work I have read and loved? I have never commented on. To this day, I have never written a review on Goodreads. Not even for books that have stuck with me since I was a child. I've never written a comment on any of the fanfiction I've read or on any Tumblr art that I come across.

I am speaking about work that has literally changed my life. There are fanfictions out there that I have remembered for years after I read them. The authors have no idea. I never wrote a comment letting them know. They have no clue how much their work meant to me and impacted me. Just yesterday I was thinking about a fan fiction I read when I was early in my teen years (so about 10 years ago or so). To be fair I don't think I could have written an eloquent comment at 13, but that's not the point. The point is that I remembered that fanfiction after 10 whole years and the creator doesn't have the slightest clue in the world that their words re-entered the mind of someone who has not revisited the work for a decade.

There are so many fanfictions that I have bookedmarked that I genuinely love to death, and I've never said anything under them. I still reread them to this day even though I bookmarked them when I was much younger. There are certain lines in them that have given me feelings that I have tried to replicate in my own writing. I hope that people who read my work can feel how I felt when I read some of the fanfics that I have saved on my phone. The creators, again, have literally no idea. Don't get me wrong: their fanfics have gotten comments from other people, but if I'm anything to go by then there are so many other people who never verbally expressed their love even though they absolutely do have love for the work.

To be quite honest I am just not the type of person who thinks to write comments. Even though I fully understand how much comments mean to creators (which is why I'm going out of my way to be better about leaving them), I just... Have never been the type of person to write about how much a piece of art means to me. A piece of art can shake me to my absolute core and imprint on me and I will never tell the person who made it how much I love it.

As someone who also creates, I know how it feels to get low engagement on work you have spent an inordinate amount of time on. I know it can be discouraging and make you feel like what you make isn't worth anything. I also know firsthand that someone can have an indescribable amount of love for what you do and keep that to themselves. I am not the only person out there like this. That's not a guess. I've heard people before say that they feel weird commenting on work that is "too old" even though they love it. Or they feel like creators don't want to get a notification for a simple "woah".

Someone can love your work dearly and not think to comment for a number of reasons. That doesn't mean that your work isn't valuable and it doesn't mean nobody loves it. And honestly? Even if your work really does only bring you joy, I still think that you should create it! But that's a point for another post. My point for this one is that a lot more people silently love your work than you realize. Unfortunately (or very fortunately depending on how you look at it) they probably outnumber the people who do comment.

So I'm sharing this with all other creators. You have so many silent lovers. Secret admirers exist in the world of creating, too, and I think that that is very important for you to remember. If you ever feel down about the fact that people may not say the things that you want them too? Consider that they're thinking it instead. Keep creating!!

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bonesandthebees · 6 months

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Hiya!!

I was just wondering how do you go about writing dialogue? Yk characterizations and all that. I don’t know how to make natural banter or how to see how much a character would actually reveal about themselves. Bc like ppl have filters to what they actual say and I tend to try to resolve everything too quickly and unrealistically. So any advice would be appreciated!

-🌷(I’m new to tumblr and dunno what any of these emojis mean, I’m rlly confused 💀)

hmm okay, this one is a little tricky for me to answer because dialogue is probably the aspect of writing that has always come the most naturally to me so it's not something I actively think about. but I'll try my best to give advice!

first off, what's most important is to make sure you know your character. know what their core traits are, and use that to determine how the character is going to act in a given situation. now, if you're writing fanfic and more specifically if you're writing an au, once you understand the core of the character from the original media, make sure you understand your specific au version of the character as well. what's their background? how has that influenced the character to be different from the original canon character? how do their core traits— the ones you have to hold onto to keep the character 'in character'—still shine through even in this different world?

then, less specifically, how does the character think? what are they feeling about the situation they're currently in?

basically, if you understand who your character is and where their head is at, that's going to make writing dialogue a lot easier. you need to understand the emotions the characters are going through, and how they're going to handle those emotions.

for example: in stars, a lot of stars!wilbur's dialogue is influenced both by how he was raised, but also by his own paranoia and anxiety. he's been raised as royalty with the expectation that he will become his brother's advisor. he's been taught how to participate in political negotiations and understands how these political games are played. so when he speaks on these matters, he phrases things more eloquently than tommy does because he knows how to 'dress these words up' like most politicians do. at the same time though, he's paranoid about who they can trust, and scared of what will happen if things go wrong. depending on who he's speaking to, he reveals some information but not everything, depending on how much he trusts the person and what his relationship with them is.

I wish I could give better advice then that but just try to be familiar with your character and understand where their head is at.

(also don't worry about the emojis lol. it's not a standard thing by any means. just here on my blog I answer a lot of asks people send me, and sometimes if someone sends me a lot of asks anonymously they might want to sign off who they are so I (and everyone else on my blog who sees their asks) know they're coming from the same person, even if we don't necessarily know who that person is.)

#ask #anon #bones writes

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tinybookgirl · 1 year

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Can You Forgive Me If You Don't Remember What I've Done?

This is actually one of the most difficult things I've ever written. It was supposed to be about both Martin and Timballisto but now it's really just about Timballisto and his trauma. This is also me experimenting with trying to make my prose more eloquent because I always feel like it's so plain and everything else I read is so beautiful. Unfortunately I could never in a million years matches Brian Jacques amazing style, so I can only hope I at least got the characterization correct. I find Martin very difficult to write but we've tried.

Timballisto had scars on his wrists. Thick bands of scar tissue wrapped all the way around, only now finally given the time to heal properly, but the chains had cut deep over the seasons. The fur had been scraped away, dug deep through his skin leaving heavy indents and even now it almost seemed as though the chains were still there.

He didn’t bother hiding them. Some of the slaves freed from the Bloodwake had left, rejoining the shrews or heading off to see what was left of their old homes, or maybe build themselves a new one. Still, many others had stayed with the woodlanders in Mossflower. Timballisto was far from the only creature in Brockhall to bear the scars.

Martin had scars on his wrists. Not so thick, not so deep. If he brushed his fur the right way he could almost hide them, the grooves where the fur would never grow back nearly disguised. Enough at least that one might not notice if they didn’t bother to look.

Timballisto had seen them as Martin had pulled him onto the deck of the Bloodwake. What Timballisto had long suspected, but long since given up hope on getting an answer for, finally confirmed.

They weren’t deep enough for Martin to have been a galley slave, Timballisto was certain of that. At least Martin had escaped that fate, suffered by Timballisto and the rest of their tribe. There was no doubt about it, though. Martin had been kept in chains.

It was nearly a week after waking, long after the battle with Tsarmina, that they realized she had left Martin with more than mere physical scars.

It was Timballisto who realized it. Martin was still confined to bed in Brocktall, no matter how much he insisted to Abbess Germaine and Columbine that he was more than fine. It only took a single glance to make it clear that was not true. Just sitting up in bed was an effort, the heavily bandaged wounds still prone to reopening and bleeding if he moved too much. Even simply being away too long was a chore.

Yet, Martin continued to insist that he was fine, repeating that he had been through worse. The statement made Gonff laugh, but filled Timballisto with nothing but guilt.

Both Gonff and Timballisto were reluctant to leave Martin for long, the Abbess having had to force them out of the room more than once when she and Columbine needed to attend to him. For now though, Martin was awake, Timballisto seated on one of the chairs next to his bed while Gonff stood on the desk, in the middle of telling a rousing tale about one of his trips to the Kotir larders.

Timballisto laughed as Gonff pulled his cap low over his eyes, grabbing an old quill to mimic a sword.

“Martin,” Timballisto said, “do you remember, I think you were maybe four seasons or so? And Vurg and Twoola had-”

Martin frowned, “Who?”

Timballisto straightened instantly. “Vurg and Twoola?” He repeated, a note of desperation entering his voice. “They were in our tribe… Vurg was your father’s best friend. You… Martin do you really not remember them?”

Martin’s brow creased, struggling through the fog both the pain and the medicines left in his mind.

Something was wrong, Timballisto realized. There had been other things too, Timballisto remembered. Little things, things they had put off to nothing more than the coma, the injuries, the medicine.

Martin staring at the Abbess for far too long before managing her name. Martin simply nodding and going along when Gonff mentioned parts of their adventure, adding no memory of his own to the tale.

When, three days ago, Martin had woken up and nearly panicked, unable to remember where he was at all.

This could be nothing more than that. He had lain at the gates of the Dark Forest, after all. Surely it was all normal? Surely, struggling with things as simple as names and places and events was normal after all Martin had just been through.

Timballisto couldn’t shake the feeling that something much worse had happened to his friend.

Upon realizing they were no longer watching him, Gonff trailed off. He tilted his hat back onto his head to see them properly. “Everything alright, matey’s?”

Timballisto was staring at Martin. Martin glanced between the two of them.

“Yes,” Martin lied, “you- you said… you said Cludd almost spotted you?”

“Martin-” Timballisto said, but Martin cut him off.

“I’m fine,” Martin insisted. No one in the room, including Martin himself, looked convinced, but Gonff continued with his tale anyway.

The firelight was bright and warm, the shrew’s celebration in full swing for the return of those thought long lost, the former slaves of the Bloodwake.

It couldn’t last forever, of course. Martin still had a job to do, they were nowhere near Mossflower and still had days of travel ahead of them. They still have to defeat the wildcat Martin had told him about. For now though, Timballisto would allow himself to enjoy his newfound freedom as much as he could.

Timballisto joined Martin, leaning comfortably against a fallen log in front of one of the fires. Martin’s paws were running over the hilt of his new sword. Timballisto set a plate piled high with food between them.

“I quite literally don’t think I’ve ever had food this good,” he said. They had always managed to keep the tribe above starving, even after Luke and his crew had left, even on the harsh coastline where so little. There had been enough to live on, but never enough to cook like this, never enough for as much as you really wanted.

“You’ll make yourself sick if you eat too much,” Martin said, choosing a chunk of cheese studded with nuts from the plate.

Martin had his sleeves pushed up against the warmth from the fire, and the scars on his wrists, the ones Timballisto had seen when Martin first pulled him from the galley, stood out stark. Timballisto picked up a scone that looked to be more fruit than bread, dripping with honey. “Good.”

Even as night was falling the festivities continued around them. Gonff was entertaining a group of shrewbabes with magic tricks, Dinny helping a shrew at one of the cooking fires. Even Log-a-log looked happy, holding tight onto the children whose lives he had missed out on so much of.

Something panged harshly inside Timballisto. He forced himself to finish the scone, pulling the last of the crumbs from his whiskers. Martin was right, it was making him sick.

“Martin, that wildcat you told us about,” Timballisto said, “you’re going to kill her.”

“Yes,” Martin said. He pulled the sword from its sheath. The firelight bounced off the blade, making it glimmer like pure gold. It was a far cry from the blade Timballisto remembered. Martin, only a few seasons younger than him, dragging the sword about wherever he went, always leaving a furrow in the sand from the end of the blade. It had rarely been hard to find out which tracks in the sand where Martin’s.

That had been sturdy sure, a good blade no doubt. But it had been old as well, and starting to show its age. This one… well, it was hard to imagine a blade more impressive.

“Have you killed before?” Timballisto knew the answer before Martin said it. It was the way Martin carried himself now, the determination and strength that now sat behind his eyes.

“Yes,” Martin didn’t look at him.

The silence stretched between them like a gorge. Martin sheathed his sword. Even tucked away, the pommel stone glinted.

“What happened?” Timballisto said. “When you- we looked, Martin. I swear, we tried, but-”

“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me,” Martin said, his tone leaving very little room for argument. Timballisto argued anyway.

“Luke left me in charge, Martin,” Timballisto begged. “Please, what happened?”

“I can’t talk about it, Timbal,” Martin said. He was staring into the fire, arms resting across his knees, the scars on his wrists still on full display. Timballisto couldn’t look away. He placed his paw over Martin’s wrist, Timballisto’s freshly bandaged by the hares from Salamandastron.

“Please.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Martin pulled his arm away, clasping his friend's paw in his own instead. He looked up. “We’re free now. Both of us.”

It wasn’t a lie, but Timballisto knew it wasn’t the full truth. Martin wouldn’t really be free until the wildcat was dead.

Timballisto didn’t feel freed either.

“Something is wrong with Martin,” Timballisto said.

Columbine looked up, busy grinding herbs for another set of medicines, not only for Martin but for those who still carried injuries from the battle. “What do you mean? I changed his bandages yesterday, he shouldn’t be bleeding again-”

“Something’s wrong with his mind,” Timballisto clarified. “His memories.”

Columbine frowned, setting the mortar and pestle aside. She wiped her paws on her apron. “Memory loss can be common after severe injuries, especially ones as bad as Martin’s. And the medicines we’ve been giving him for the pain sometimes cause the same issue. Usually they return in time.”

“And what happens when they don’t? What if something more than just memories is wrong, what if- what if Tsarmina clawed his brain or something?”

“I highly doubt she clawed his brain,” Columbine assured him. “As for the memories… I’ll have to ask the Abbess, she knows more about it than I do. What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Earlier today, I mentioned- something. Something from when we were children, but he didn’t remember it,” Timballisto said.

“Are you certain?” Columbine said, “All I mean,” she said, forstowing any argument on Timballisto’s part, “is that it would have been quite a long time ago. Are you sure this isn’t something that it would be normal for someone to forget?”

“The event itself, maybe,” Timballisto agreed, “but that would have been fine. He didn’t remember the others from our tribe that I mentioned either. And I know he would. Something is wrong.”

Columbine tilted her bowl of herbs into a small pot. “The Abbess is more adept with things like memory loss than I am. I’ll speak to her, see what she thinks we should do.”

Timballisto sighed, relieved, “That’s all I ask.”

Martin was no longer in danger of death, but he had yet to awaken, and Abbess Germaine had cautioned them all not to leave him alone in case he was to take a sudden turn for the worse. Timballisto had barely left his bedside since Martin had been moved into Brockhall. There was no telling when he might wake, and Timballisto had heard Abbess Germaine whispering of the chance that he never would.

He hoped desperately that she was wrong.

Martin was wrapped heavily in bandages and blankets. He had seized muttering in his sleep the way he had been in the beginning. If not for the bandages one could almost think that nothing was wrong with him at all.

“What happened to him?”

Timballisto looked up to see Gonff leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest.

“You saw the battle,” Timballisto said, “same as I did.”

“And,” Gonff pushed himself off the door lintel, leaning his paws on the back of one of the other chairs waiting empty by the bed, “I saw the lashes on his back.”

Timballisto looked away. They all had when his wounds were being dressed. None of them had said anything about it. There had been no point, Martin couldn’t answer their questions, not while still trapped at the gates of the Dark Forest.

“I don’t know what happened,” Timballisto said.

“Because Martin told me,” Gonff continued, swinging himself around to sit. “That he simply wandered down south on his own. Knew it was a lie the moment we shook paws, of course. Wandering doesn’t get you those,” he inclined his head to indicate the scars on Timballisto’s own wrists.

Timballisto crossed his arms. “I don’t know what happened,” he repeated. He was no longer sure if it would be better or worse to know.

“If anyone knows, it’s you.”

“If Martin didn’t tell you, maybe he doesn’t want you to know,” Timballisto said. One could only just see Martin breathing, his chest rising and falling slowly under a mound of blankets. As long as he breathed, he was alive. As long as he breathed, maybe Timballisto hadn’t lost everything.

Gonff didn’t answer. He simply sat there, watching Timballisto expectantly.

“He disappeared,” Timballisto said finally. “One day, Martin and his grandmother were both gone. The only other thing missing was Martin’s sword.” He shook his head. “We didn’t find them. We didn’t find where they might have gone,” he lied. He found himself unable to admit what had really happened, unable to place the blame where it truly belonged. “We just knew… they hadn’t left on their own. We knew they wouldn’t be coming back.”

Gonff studied him. Timballisto tried not to squirm under the mousethiefs gaze.

“That’s all?”

“That was the last I saw of him,” that at least, was the truth, “Until he pulled me from the Bloodwake.”

“He was a slave,” Gonff said.

Timballisto couldn’t look at Gonff, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Martin. “I know.”

Gonff braced his feet on the bed, tilting back on the legs of his chair. “Any warlords up north?”

Timballisto whipped his head around to glare at him. “Martin was my friend first. If I knew anything else I would tell you. I don’t. That was the last time I saw him, and he never told me more.”

Gonff’s chair landed heavily on the floor. “Then I suppose the only question left is for when he wakes up.”

“And what would that be?”

“Do we ask him?”

Brockhall was lovely. Timballisto couldn’t argue with that if he wanted to. It was warm and homey, the ceilings were high and the rooms were huge. The place had been built for badgers, after all. As winter approached the fireplaces were always lit, effectively blocking out any chill from Mossflower itself.

Timballisto didn't really… like it. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was that being underground, without daylight, sometimes reminded him far too much of the searats galley.

Which was ridiculous, he knew it was. Brockhall was warm and comfortable, it was never stinking and stifling. He could go anywhere he wanted, never chained down. There was all the food he could eat from the kitchens, never starved and waiting for whatever scraps were thrown at them. It wasn’t the same at all.

It didn’t stop him from feeling as though the walls of Brockhall were closing in on him, that he might never be able to escape.

So, Brockhall was fine. It was. He simply would rather spend his time outside in Mossflower when he could. For the past few days, more often than not, that had meant aimlessly wandering. Sometimes gathering firewood or helping with foraging parties or whatever other work needed to be done. Mostly, however, it meant trying to avoid thinking about the fact that he had done nothing but avoid Martin for days.

Abbess Germaine and Columbine had confirmed it. A large portion of Martin’s memories were lost, the longer ago the more that was missing. Anything before his arrival in Mossflower was nothing more than a blur.

Timballisto hated being right.

He was chopping wood alone, more for something to do than any actual need for it, when he heard footsteps. It hadn’t begun to snow yet, but a thin layer of frost still lay across the woods. It cracked under Martin’s paws as he approached, wrapped in cloaks and leaning heavily on a wooden crutch.

“Need some help?”

Timballisto split one more log, looking at Martin only long enough to confirm it was him. “Are you allowed out?”

“Under supervision,” Martin nodded towards Gonff, watching them from just out of earshot.

“I think,” Timballisto said, struggling to sound as though nothing was wrong, “The Abbess would have my hide if I handed you an axe.”

Martin laughed, wincing as he slowly sat himself down on a nearby tree stump. He rested the crutch next to himself. “I’ve been trying to talk with you.”

They hadn’t been alone since the extent of Martin’s memory loss had become clear. Although, Timballisto wasn’t sure they had been alone since that first night after the Bloodwake had been taken. At least, not while Martin was awake.

Timballisto stared at the axe in his paws to avoid turning to look at Martin. Finally he spoke. “Do you remember me?”

“I know you,” Martin said.

“But you don’t remember me.”

“No,” Martin admitted. “I remember rescuing you from the…” he faltered, “... from the ship. But nothing before that.”

Timballisto nodded. He grabbed another log, splitting it in half with one strike. One thing being an oar slave left you with, even with the starvation, was plenty of arm strength. “You don’t remember anything about our tribe? Our home?”

“I know… I know you,” Martin repeated. “I know my father’s name. I know my sword was his. But, it’s not like remembering. It’s simply knowing. Germaine said some things will be like that. The same way you know how to breathe or walk or speak.”

“So what do you remember?”

“It’s all jumbled. Germaine thinks the things that I do remember will become clearer over time, though perhaps not perfect. Especially if someone else can tell me about them.”

“Except,” Timballisto said, filling in the unspoken implication, “that’s for the things you can remember. What about the things you can’t?”

“Germaine think’s they’ll stay that way.”

“So,” he was out of logs to chop. He picked up one that had already been split and split it again, “even if I tell you everything I know, everything I remember, you still won’t remember it.”

Martin didn’t answer. Timballisto dumped the axe by the woodpile. “I’m going back to Brockhall.”

Martin grabbed his crutch, getting stiffly to his feet with no small effort. “Are you angry with me?”

“No!” Timballisto hadn’t looked at him since Martin had first sat down, and he didn’t look at him now. “I’m not angry at you.” His paws had curled into fists.

“What did I do?” Martin said. “If I did something- I don’t remember-”

“That’s the problem!” Timballisto snapped, finally turning to face his friend. “You don’t remember! Finding you again- seeing you alive- you rescuing me was like a dream. I had…” he shook his head, struggling for anything at all. “You were here! You were alive and- and I- and you could- I had you! I had- I could tell you- I had you and now you’re gone again!

Martin’s face turned to stone. “You think I’m not myself anymore?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

“I can’t talk about this,” Timballisto turned away. “You should know what that’s like.” That was cruel and he knew it. “I’m going back to Brockhall.”

Martin didn’t follow him. Timballisto wished that he would.

Timballisto ducked into the central cave.

“Windered, I was hoping you-” he frowned. It was empty. Odd since Windered was usually there preparing for dinner by now. It was normal for her to be alone in the cave, getting a start before the rest of the tribe, but it was strange for no one to be here at all.

Maybe she had simply been caught up in doing something else. Surely, that was why the cave in question was empty, the fire put out and the ashes long gone cold.

Timballisto let the curtain fall back over the entrance. “Twoola!” He called, spotting the old mouse tottering along the sand. “Have you seen Windred?”

“Not since this morning,” Twoola said, pausing. “She’s not in there?”

“I’m- I’m sure she’s fine. I was just going to- you know, it’s not important anyway.”

Twoola raised an eyebrow but nodded, returning to his walk. Timballisto scanned the beach. A few were tending to the struggling crops up on the clifftops. Two mice were busy repairing one of the curtains used to hide the cave entrances. Another group was braving the cold shallows, gathering mussels and shellfish and whatever else they could find.

Windred was nowhere to be seen. Even more alarming, Timballisto realized, neither was Martin.

Trying very hard to not run, Luke had placed him in charge, it wouldn’t do to look distressed, Timballisto made his way to the smallest of the caves.

It had lain mostly empty since Luke and others had left. More than enough weapons had been prepared in case they were needed, so there was no need to spend time in there making more. There was plenty of more important work that needed to be done.

The firepit in the center was cleaned out, stacks of javelins, bows, and arrows all lined up neatly along the walls. It wasn’t uncommon to find Martin in here, swinging Luke’s sword about where Windred wouldn’t find him and tell him off for nearly taking some beast’s eye out.

Except Martin wasn’t here.

When had he seen Windred last? This morning for certain. She had insisted he actually sit down for breakfast and he had brushed her off. There was too much to get done. He remembered grabbing a slice of bread and heading out as quickly as he could. He remembered Martin running out after him. He had brushed Martin off too.

“I don’t have time to play warriors with you, Martin.”

“I don’t want to play warriors, I want to help!”

Timballisto had stopped, looking down at Martin. Timballisto had his growth spurt last summer and was now over a head taller than Martin. Martin, however, was still young, Luke’s sword at his side, creating a furrow as the tip dragged across the sand behind him.

“You’re too little Martin,” Timballisto told him. “Go ask your grandmother.”

“You’re not that much older than me!”

“No, but Luke put me in charge. If you want to help, I’m sure Windred has something you can do.”

Martin kicked at a stone, skidding it towards the waves. “I can do more! When my father comes back I need to show him-”

“Luke’s not coming back, Martin,” Timballisto said harshly. Martin was the only one still under the impression that he would. Everyone had known the moment the Sanya sailed past the horizon. They wouldn’t be seeing it again. There was no point in wasting time thinking about what would happen if it ever returned.

Martin’s face fell. Timballisto sighed. “I’ll figure out something you can do tomorrow, okay? I have to go, we’re running out of firewood and I need to make sure we have enough for the next few days.”

The Brockhall kitchen was empty except for a young mousemaid, another of the rescued slaves from the Bloodwake. Timballisto found Lissy busy chopping fruit for a pie filling, the counters coated in a thin layer of flour and fruit juice from her work. The kitchen already smelled heavenly.

Lissy smiled at him as he entered, her face stretched out and lopsided from the thick scar that stretched across it. An old result of a searats rapier, Timballisto had been there when it happened. It was nearly a miracle she had even survived it, trapped as they were with no possible medical care aside from rinsing it in seawater when they could.

“It’s nice to see you inside for once,” she said, still chopping away.

Timballisto sat across from her, snatching a slice of apricot. She swatted his paw away playfully.

“I’m inside plenty,” Timballisto said. “What are you making? It smells delicious.”

“Apricot and plum pie now,” Lissy nodded towards the oven, “but I have a nut loaf baking as well. And I might make biscuits.”

Lissy had a clean white bandage around one of her wrists. She had been scratching at her scars again. Timballisto had seen her when she was distressed, trapped too deep in horrific memories. Clawing might be a far more accurate description.

“Lissy,” Timballisto said, “are you feeling alright?”

She paused, the knife trembling in her paw. She returned to work with more force than strictly necessary. “I’m fine. What about you?”

Timballisto leaned back. “I don’t know. It’s… Martin. He’s lost a lot of his memories,” Timballisto said. He stole another apricot.

“I heard,” Lissy set the knife aside, sweeping the fruit into a bowl. “But the Abbess said it should get better, shouldn’t it?”

“No, yes. More recent memories, yes. The older things are going to be harder. She thinks…” he shook his head. “Most of before he came to Mossflower is gone. It’s unlikely it will come back.”

Lissy had started rolling out her pie dough. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him?”

“I have not been avoiding him!”

“Yes,” Lissy said, “you have. Before he woke up you were with him all the time, by his side all hours of the day. And now it’s been days since you’ve even seen him.”

Timballisto was silent for a long time. Lissy didn’t push him. He watched her rolling out her dough, adding her filling, and carefully cutting out shapes for a decorative crust on top. It was only when she slid it into the oven, taking the nut loaf out in return that he finally spoke up again.

“He doesn’t remember me,” Timballisto said. “He doesn’t remember our home, or our tribe, or- or anything. He doesn’t know that…”

Lissy sat next to him, “Know what?”

“That..” Timballisto couldn’t look at her, “He doesn’t know that what happened to him is my fault.” He leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling, the twisting roots that formed the roof. “What would you do, if you met someone from home again? What would you do if you’re responsible for something horrible happening to someone, but they don’t remember it? They don’t know… they don’t know that they shouldn’t be acting as though nothing is wrong because everything is wrong?”

“I think those are two separate questions.”

“Fine,” Timballisto rephrased, “what… what if you met your brother again? The one who sold you to the searats? But he didn’t remember what he did and expected everything to be the same as it was before?”

It was Lissy’s turn to be silent. She quickly stood, grabbing a fresh bowl and a fresh sack of flour.

“I’m sorry,” Timballisto stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, Tim,” Lissy assured him. “I’ve just… I have been thinking about it. My brother. A lot lately. And what I would do if I did see him again.” She looked up, locking eyes with Timballisto. “I think I would take the nearest weapon and kill him with it. But what happened to me and my brother is not the same as what happened with you and Martin.”

“You don’t know what happened with me and Martin.”

“I don’t know Martin well,” Lissy agreed, “but I do know you. My brother was only thinking of himself, and didn’t care what happened to me. He was selfish and cruel and he had been that way our whole lives. But you? Timballisto, you are one of the best creatures I have ever met. And you can’t make me believe that you ever, in a million seasons, would hurt Martin on purpose.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Timballisto said. “I would never have done that on purpose.”

“So what did you do?”

Timballisto sunk back into his seat. “Nothing. I did nothing.”

There wasn’t enough of the tribe left to risk sending out anymore than one search party, just Timballisto and two others.

The tracks ended where sand became stone. They scoured the rocky coast for anything that pointed towards Martin and Windred. The light was dimming quickly, but they were reluctant to light tortures. If someone had captured them, they didn’t want to bring attention to themselves in return, and by extension the rest of the tribe. Over the seasons they had all learned the dangers of the northern coast far too well. They knew better than to risk shouting either. The only remaining option was to hope they could be spotted.

“Timballisto,” Caitir, one of the searchers, a bowl and arrow slung over her shoulders, motioned him over to where she and Resta were ducked down behind a ridge. “You’ll want to see this.”

Timballisto was instantly on alert. Caitir pulled him down next to them, pointing towards the beach. “Look.”

It was a ship. Crashed onto the rocks, smashed far beyond repair. It hadn’t been there long Timballisto was certain of. At the very least it hadn’t been there the last time a foraging party had gone this way.

Even from here, Timballisto could see what Caitir and Resta had truly been concerned about. It was a galley ship, the oars smashed and tossed aside on the rocks, the rusted chains still attached to them glinting red and orange in the light of the sunset.

“We have to go-” Timballisto tried to stand, only to instantly be pulled back down by Resta.

“We can’t,” Resta said.

“Martin and Windred only disappeared this morning, they can’t be far,” Timballisto snatched his arm from her grasp. “A crew like that can’t move fast, we can catch up with them and-”

“And what?” Caitir said. “You know very well the three of us cannot take on a whole crew of searats.”

“We need to get back the caves,” Resta said. “They may be coming this way next.”

“You want to just leave them?” Timballisto couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. It wasn’t very becoming of someone who was supposed to be in charge. He struggled to regain a semblance of command. “If they have Martin and Windred-”

“If,” Caitir shook her head. “Even with the whole tribe we couldn’t fight them. Timballisto, you know we’re right.”

“Luke left me in charge!” Timballisto snapped. “Not you! We can’t just leave them captured- or worse-”

“Luke left you in charge,” Resta said, “Because he trusted you to do what is best for the entire tribe. And you know what that is.”

He didn’t want it to be. Timballisto looked back to the ship. It was large, perhaps not the size of the red ship that had terrorized them so long ago, but still far larger than the Sanya had been.

Even if every member of the tribe could fight, which was far from being the case, there was no guarantee they would be successful. Resta and Caitir were both right, and Timballisto knew it.

Timballisto sunk down behind the ridge, his eyes closed. Resta and Caitir were watching him.

Maybe they didn’t need to take on the whole crew? If all they needed was Martin and Windred they could sneak into the corsair camp once night fell and simply grab the two of them and get out before anyone even noticed they were gone? But surely they had other creatures enslaved as well and it would take more than three of them to get them all? Did they have time to go back to the tribe and gather everyone who could fight? What if the corsairs didn’t even stop for the night? What if there were more guards than expected? Even if they got Martin and Windred out, what if the corsairs tracked them back to the caves? What if they got themselves captured as well? Resta and Caitir both had children waiting back with the tribe, could he risk leaving those children orphans?

Timballisto wasn’t Luke. Resta and Caitir would not follow his decision simply because he was the one to give the order. If Timballisto was to make a decision, it had to be the right one.

Two creatures weren’t worth the whole tribe.

Oh how he wished they were.

“He’s Luke’s son.”

“Then,” Caitir said, “it’s a good thing Luke will never know.”

Timballisto opened his eyes, taking one last look at the crashed ship. “We’re going back. We’ll disguise the caves, wait a few days to make sure no one comes back this way.”

He had to protect the rest of the tribe, didn’t he? Even if it meant leaving some of them behind?

"Why are you avoiding Martin?”

Timballisto looked up to see Gonff, leaning casually against one of the nearby beds. Of course the mousethief had been certain to corner him in one of the Brockhall dorms, when there was no one else was around, and Timballisto was standing too far from the door to make a quick and easy escape. Gonff was far more clever than some would give him credit for.

“Will everyone stop saying that?”

“Maybe when it stops being true,” Gonff laid back on the nearest bed, his paws behind his head, his eyes closed, the picture of relaxation. Anyone would think he wasn’t even listening. But Timballisto knew better than to think he would be leaving this conversation without an answer.

“So,” Gonff said, “why are you avoiding Martin?”

“He nearly died,” Timballisto said, “and yet I’m the one he’s worried about.”

“That’s Martin for you,” Gonff cracked open one eye. “Germaine put him back on bedrest, so he doesn’t have a lot else to do. And you won’t visit him.”

Timballisto crossed his arms. There had to be some way to get Gonff to leave. “I’m not angry at Martin.”

“Good. So why are you avoiding him?”

The silence stretched on. Timballisto uncrossed his arms, only to cross them again a moment later. “If I tell you I have something very important to do, can I leave?”

“No.”

“If I tell you I’m going to visit Martin, can I leave?”

“Of course, but I’m walkin’ there with you.”

There was more silence. Finally Timballisto, deciding his options were either run for the door at breakneck speed or attempt to form an answer, he attempted to form an answer. “He doesn’t remember.”

“So? That means you aren’t mates anymore?”

“No!” Timballisto shook his head. “It’s not about him. It’s- it’s about me.” Timballisto sat heavily on one of the beds. “I can’t see him.”

Gonff rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one paw. “Go on.”

There was another very long silence, made worse by the fact that Gonff was now actually looking at him, instead of his previously feigned disinterest.

“It’s my fault,” Timballisto said finally. “I’m the reason Martin disappeared.”

Gonff sat up like a bolt, any and all traces of civility gone. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t hurt him!” Timballisto clarified quickly. “Not on purpose or anything. But… when Martin’s father left, he put me in charge of the tribe. I should have been watching him or- I was in charge. And when Martin and his grandmother disappeared… I called off the search. If I had kept going- maybe we could have gotten him back. Maybe we could have-” Maybe he could have saved Martin. Maybe if he had been able to save Martin he would have known how to save the rest of the tribe as well.

Martin and Windred had been his first failure in leading the tribe, but they had been far from his last.

“How long ago was this?” Gonff interrupted.

“What? Um, I don’t know.” Timballisto had long since lost track of how many seasons had passed while on the Bloodwake. “A while ago?”

“So, how old were you when you got left in charge?”

“Uh,” Timballisto shook his head. “Ten or eleven seasons maybe? I’m not sure.”

“You were ten seasons old,” Gonff said, taking the more generous estimate, “and you were put in charge of the entire tribe?”

“Luke took everyone who was old enough to fight with him,” Timballisto explained. “And it wasn’t a very large tribe, so there weren’t too many of us left. We didn’t have enough to go after Martin-”

Gonff held up a paw. “There was no one else who could have been in charge?”

“I suppose there was,” Anyone would have been a better choice than him, Timballisto thought now. They would have known what to do when Martin and Windred had left. They would have known what to do when that winter Timballisto hadn’t planned the crops out right and they got hit by an early frost so there wasn’t enough food to go around. They would have known what to do when the searats landed on their shores and tore down every defense they had ever made. “But it doesn’t matter. Luke chose me. I was responsible and I let Martin disappear, I let him get captured, and- and then I let the entire tribe get captured and I couldn’t do anything to stop it!”

Timballisto leapt to his feet. “It was my tribe! They were my creatures and I let all of them down and now Martin is-” his rant began to falter, the anger that had been in his voice a moment ago fading, “If I had Martin again, maybe I hadn’t failed. Maybe I could fix it. At least… at least I wouldn’t have failed all of them. Except I don’t have Martin anymore.”

“You want Martin to forgive you.”

Timballisto sunk back to the bed. “I was supposed to protect him,” Timballisto said softly. “And I failed. I failed Martin, and his grandmother, and Luke, and the entire tribe. How can I- how can I be around Martin- how can he be around me if he doesn’t know? If I can’t… if I can’t apologize?”

It seemed like a pathetically small gesture, but what else was there to do? He couldn’t change whatever it was that had happened to Martin. He couldn’t change what the rest of the tribe had suffered. If he could apologize, if Martin could forgive him then… well, then maybe he could at least live with himself. Maybe he could at least look Martin in the eyes without thinking of all the ways he had failed.

Gonff leaned forwards. His expression, for once, was solemn. “Martin doesn’t blame you. With or without his memories.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know Martin,” Gonff pushed himself to his feet. “You won’t believe it from me though. So, go talk to Martin.”

It took another day before Timballisto actually managed to work up the courage to visit him. But he couldn’t avoid Martin forever. Maybe he could?

No, he couldn’t. Not unless he was willing to leave Mossflower and somehow that felt like a worse option.

Martin was awake when Timballisto arrived. He was propped up in bed, sketching something out on a parchment alongside Abbess Germaine. Martin looked up, setting aside the parchment the moment he noticed Timballisto.

“Tim!”

“Can I speak with you? Alone, if that’s alright, Abbess?” Timballisto asked. He had one paw clinging to the doorframe. He could still leave. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to know the answer. Gonff had told him not to worry, sure, but the worst outcome wouldn’t leave Timballisto’s mind.

What if Martin didn’t forgive him?

Abbess Germaine stood, looking to Martin, who nodded.

“I’ll be back later,” Abbess Germaine smiled, patting Timballisto on the shoulder as she left. Timballisto only just managed to free his paw from the lintel as the door clicked shut behind her. He didn’t move any closer to Martin’s bed. He wasn’t sure he could say it if he did.

The second between the door closing Martin speaking felt as though it lasted an eternity. Martin looked incredibly young. He was strong and hardened and grown now, still heavily bandaged, but propped up under pillows and blankets, with the parchment and charcoal staining his paws Timballisto couldn’t help but think of Martin when they were children, before everything had gone wrong.

Timballisto supposed he himself had been a child too, but it had never felt that way. You were always old, you were never a child, and those younger than you were always children.

Martin hefted himself into a slightly more upright position, “Timbal-”

“Stop,” Timballisto said quickly. If he didn’t say it now, he wasn’t sure he ever would, “I need to go first.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. I’m not upset that you can’t remember our past. Well, I am, a little, but it’s not you I’m upset with. It’s… I need to tell you, because you don’t remember, but I can’t keep going around like everything is normal when-” he was rambling now, Timballisto knew he couldn’t allow himself to stop, “I tried to talk to you about it, after the Bloodwake, but you didn’t want to talk about it, so I assumed that was fine, you had a lot happening, we can talk about it later, but then you were injured and there wasn’t a later because you were injured and when you woke up- there wasn’t a later anymore.

“It’s my fault,” Timballisto said, speaking so quickly the worse almost ran together. The space between the bed and the door may as well have been miles between them. “Whatever happened to you between when you disappeared from the tribe and when you arrived in Mossflower. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, and I know that saying I’m sorry doesn’t do anything, I-”

Martin just shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is,” Timballisto insisted. “Luke left me in charge. It was my choice not to keep looking for you and your grandmother. I was in charge, and I let you disappear. I let you get taken.”

“Whatever happened to me,” Martin said, “is not your fault.”

“How can you say that if you don’t remember?”

Martin didn’t answer at first. He was looking down at his wrists, running one of his paws over the other ones. “I’ve been trying to remember. I can’t.” He looked up, “I never told you what happened to me?”

“No,” Timballisto said. “I tried to ask. You said you couldn’t speak about it.”

Martin nodded. He paw continued to hold at his wrist. It was one of the few wounds on his body that wasn’t currently wrapped in bandages. It didn’t need to be. Unlike so many of the others, these were long scarred over.

“I know you,” Martin said. “I know how I felt when I saw you on the Bloodwake. I remember that I had never thought I would see you again. I…” Martin frowned, his brow furrowed, struggling to sort through whatever memories remained. “Whatever may have happened to me, I never blamed you for it.”

Slowly Timballisto stepped across the room, sinking into the chair by Martin’s bed. The first few days after the battle the chair had never been empty. Either Timballisto or Gonff had been seated in it more often than not. The few times they were kicked out, to eat or bathe, or to simply not be in the way while his bandages were changed, Columbine or Abbess Germaine had taken their place instead.

“It’s not just you,” Timballisto wiped tears from his cheeks. He wasn't sure when he had started crying. “The rest of our tribe is lost because of me. I failed you, and I failed them. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t… I shouldn’t have been in charge.”

He shouldn’t have been in charge, Timballisto realized for perhaps the first time. There had been others more adept at leading the tribe. Windred, Caitir, even Twoola. Anyone who had more life experience than a ten season old orphan who was only alive because he was good at rock climbing.

Luke had made a terrible choice in who he left behind.

“No,” Martin took Timballisto’s paw. “What happened to me is not your fault, nor is what happened to the rest of the tribe. The only creatures to blame are the vermin who cares nothing for the lives of other beasts. Gonff told me you want me to forgive you.”

Timballisto let out a choked laugh, his throat thick with tears. “Of course he told you. Hold on, did you tell him to talk to me?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” Martin laughed, he had tears in his eyes as well, “And Germaine wouldn’t let me out again. But all he said was that you were worried I was the one angry with you. Timbal, I can’t forgive you because there is nothing to forgive.”

More tears poured down his cheeks. A weight he had never even realized was there had been pulled from his shoulders. Timballisto clutched Martin’s paw tighter. “Our entire tribe, Martin. And we’re all that’s left of it.”

Martin didn’t let go of him. He moved the parchment he had been working on back onto his lap. It was blueprints for a castle or fortress of some sort. “Then we can make certain that what happened to our old tribe cannot and will not happen to our new one.”

#redwall #brian jacques #redwall fanfiction #my writing #martin #gonff #timballisto #mossflower #martin the warrior #legend of luke #columbine #abbess germaine

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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Hi ! I really really love the way you write, especially dark scenes.

Do you think you can write something about a very matrixed by the Clave Alec sent on a hunt to kill the High Warlock of Brooklyn but falling in love instead ? 💕

hahahahahaha oh gosh let me tell you how excited i am about this prompt because i have a backburner thought about this and hahaha yeah i jumped on this prompt like Nightshade on a moth. thank you and i hope you enjoy

lumine

Alec dresses with a solemnity that befits his mission, but not his rank. He is a warrior and a diplomat by trade, a leader forged of his own making, but a darkened blade by the Clave’s demand.

There was no real choice —there has never been a choice— in whether or not he takes the missions given him.

What the Clave asks of him, he gives and while he knows all the laws and loopholes of the Accords and can twist them as eloquently as a seelie could twist the truth.

This had no loopholes.

It is a command from his leaders, and he will follow through.

As he always does.

Whether he wants to or not.

Because Alec is a weapon and weapons cannot argue with those who wield them.

His target's address is not a physical thing, nor even actual knowledge, but the remains of a confiscated and fading tracking spell that Idris sent to him.

Alec leaves the institute quietly and unquestioned —long before the nightly patrols have begun to put on their gear— sinking into the growing shadows that he has been born and pledged to hunt within.

The first whisper of wards from his target’s domain brush against him with an almost intelligent spark. Once again, he wonders just what his parents did for the deeds to restore their honor to require this. He wants to know so badly, how upholding the Lightwood name turned to his blade being soaked blood and his soul battered with deaths on orders he’s not allowed to question.

The entire building is warded so thoroughly that it feels almost alive. Alec shouldn’t be able to see the magic without his spiritum rune activated, but somehow, he can. It’s beautiful and Alec feels the tiniest pang of regret before he pushes it aside and leaps up. Somehow the magic doesn’t hinder him, even when it sparks against him, and it is the work of an infant nephilim to make it to the top.

Alec uses the roof to take a rare minute of rest.

He breathes in the cold night air as he checks the tracker.

And then he throws himself off the roof, rolling to soften the sound and settles into the shadow of the balcony he lands on, letting the darkness swallow him back up.

His quiver shimmers into existence against his back and Alec strings his bow as he centers himself.

Alec learned archery to protect from afar, but he was also trained to kill.

There is no room for Alec Lightwood on this mission, for now, he is but an instrument of the Clave.

He is a weapon of his people and nothing less… but also nothing more.

—

Magnus lets his uninvited guest get as far as his roof before he begins to dress himself. It’s an auspicious occasion after all, and he does pride himself on being a good host.

His wards spark about him as his guest moves and Magnus has to admit that there is something truly unique about his unexpected visitor. If not for the strength of Magnus’ wards, he might not have noticed them at all.

As it is, Magnus’ magic has found and clung to his intruder since they first touched Magnus’ wards. Magnus finishes buttoning his cuffs and straightens his vest, and he waits.

He finds that he’s almost charmed by the interruption.

It’s been at least six months — or possibly six years — since the last blatant assassination attempt and this one is already much more promising. The fact that he can literally feel and taste nephilim blood ensures it.

It’s been a long time since the Clave was willing to risk another attempt on him.

He tilts his glass to the ceiling, admiring the blood red hue of it and turns with a smirk on his face, ready to greet his would-be-assassin.

His drink falls as his grip loosens in shock. Glass shatters and liquor and crystal shards cover his shoes as his mouth clenches in a snarl of surprise.

The arrow that pierces his chest leaves no burning pain behind, just a tingling ache. None of his once holy but now twice damned royal blood spills, the only evidence of the wound ever existing is a sizzling hole in his shirt.

His shadowhunter assassin growls, a low rumble in his throat, but before he can notch another arrow, he’s pulled through the glass of the window he shatters and thrown into Magnus’ wall.

Magic presses against him.

Covering every inch of him as Magnus stalks forward. He gives the tiniest twitch of his fingers and his magic, as if apologetic for its misstep, quickly deposits the arrow into his hand.

He rolls it between his fingers, studying it.

Not even during the uprising had a nephilim blade ever truly pierced his skin. He wonders what reward he should give the wielder for this particular wound.

What punishment would be most fitting?

His wards, which have been gently chiming since the beginning, ring with a final, ominous toll as Magnus presses glowing, blue fingers to the intruder's chin and lifts up.

Oh.

Well now. This changes everything.

—

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing,” Bane murmurs, his fingers a strong pressure on Alec’s jaw as he speaks.

Even with the limited information on Bane that he has access to, there was nothing that could have prepared Alec for Bane’s response to the attempted assassination.

Nor was he expecting Bane to be quite so... magical.

“No?” He asks, because of all the things in his life that he’s been called, pretty hasn’t been one of them.

“You intrude on my domain, ruin one of my favorite outfits and now you lie to me? Truly appalling behavior from one of the Clave’s beloved.” Bane tells him and his thumb presses higher on Alec’s face in what is probably meant to be a threat but feels much more like a caress.

The words themselves make him roll his eyes and a scoff escapes him. He’s not one of the Clave’s beloved and even if he was, his hidden but very real desires mean he never will be.

Alec opens his mouth to object, to ask what is going on, anything to figure out exactly why Bane hasn’t already killed him, and Bane’s other hand comes up. Two neatly painted fingers press to Alec’s lips and tap against them in warning. His words are stifled — not by magic — but by the mere touch of Bane’s smooth calluses against his mouth. It’s a mindless act, to lick his lips and they both stiffen when his tongue flicks against hot skin and magic.

Energy crackles around and over him and Alec bites into his bottom lip, surprised by how it doesn’t hurt — and by how good it feels.

When it’s done, Bane steps back. He looks faintly surprised, but mostly pleased, and Alec wonders at just what he’s learned.

What Alec did that’s betrayed him enough to put that look on his target’s face.

That much glee on Bane’s face can’t mean anything good for Alec, even if Bane looks gorgeous when he smiles. As it is, he can barely resist the urge to lean forward and chase the fleeting warmth of Bane’s touch. It is surprisingly soft, for an enemy. In fact, it’s lot gentler than Alec’s experienced from most of the allies in his life.

“I think we can be a bit more civilized about all of this.” Bane offers and his fingers curl in a flourish and when Alec blinks his eyes open — startled to realize he’d closed them at all — it’s to see two new chairs in the room. Bane sits in one with an odd smirk and points to the empty one.

“To start with, what exactly have I done in the last two decades that warrants a kill order from the Clave? It’s been at least a century since I last earned one of those pesky things.”

Alec swallows, wrong footed by the question. He’s never heard of anyone surviving a kill order by the Clave before, much less thriving and flaunting their existence after one was placed. However, it makes sense, in a strange way, that of all the beings in the world Magnus Bane would be the one to accomplish it.

He hesitates to move, but Bane’s magic doesn't give him a choice and a moment later he’s comfortably seated. Well, as comfortably as one can be when magically bound to a leather chair.

“The Clave—” he starts, because as with most things, this is the fault of the Clave. But he pauses, “the Accords—” because he’s hoping that will somehow be better and finally, he grits his teeth. His eyes close and to his relief his hand is allowed to come up, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why they want you dead. Probably because you’re a threat.” Alec finally admits. Perhaps it’s magic, or his situation, but the truth flows easily past his lips.

“The Clave doesn’t like threats. It’s been years since the Uprising, and they still haven’t fully regained their strength. New York is one of their strongest Institutes and yet it’s you who holds the power in our local region.”

Bane blinks at him, as if astounded and then laughter rings through the air.

“A political threat. They are doing this because of politics? And they sent you, sweet innocent cherub for the reaping. Darling, I’m not simply the High Warlock of Brooklyn.” And here Bane rises back to his feet, “I’m a king. In some ways, all the important ways even. I’m your king.”

—

Magnus stares at his would-be-murderer and magic coils around him, ready to strike and drag him so close that they can never be parted. The magic of his soul dislikes his restraint and the dominion magic that lends itself to his service wants to claim and take now.

All of Magnus’ magic demands that he takes what is rightly owed to him, to bind the counterpart of his soul to himself.

Magnus wants that as well but knows that he needs to err on the side of caution, as much as he doesn’t wish to.

His own personal magic, however, has other ideas. Which is clear from the protective blue sparks still coming off of his soulmate’s skin, the hole in Magnus’ shirt and the phantom ache of a wound that doesn’t truly exist.

Magnus never expected to meet his soulmate like this — never expected them to truly exist. But his lips curl into a smirk as his magic dances along his boy’s body and he remembers the elegant stance and fearless way he’d tried to kill him.

It’s delightful and new and Magnus knows that when he’s done with this, his shadowhunter will be not a sword at his throat but one at his side.

The Clave has done what Magnus’s own father hasn’t been able to accomplish for centuries, given him his soulmate.

It’s only fair that Magnus pays them back, tenfold for the gift given.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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