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redwinterroses · 3 years ago

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RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

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aerynwrites · 5 years ago

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The Hidden

Chapter Two: The Connection

Author’s Note: please let me know what you all think! do you like this so far? hate it? any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing and fighting.

Chapters: One, Two (you’re here), Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

It didn’t tale you and the Mandalorian long to reach your small village, a mere hour walk from where his ship was parked. He had offered to fly you all there to make it quicker, but you refused, not wanting to draw attention to your location and you didn’t know if there was enough space to land.

Dyn took in his surroundings as the trio walked into the small jungle village. The first thing he noticed were the guards posted on the outskirts of camp, and he felt his own guard go up slightly but was quickly appeased as the guard waved calmly to you.

“Welcome back (Y/N)!” the woman said cheerily before spotting the Mandalorian and her eyes narrowed cautiously, “Who do you have there?”

You chuckled and gestured to him, “Just some tourists I saved from the pair of Chroigs we’ve been dealing with.” You teased as you nudged his arm playfully.

He brushed you off as the guard laughed, “Well, hopefully you scared them off for good.” She looked towards the back of the camp at a group of farmers picking through a destroyed field, “They destroyed half our crop last night,” she scowled, “They’ve been braver than usual.”

You put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “We’ll figure it out Ariah,” you remove your hand and motion for the man to follow you as you start to walk further into the village, “we always do!” you call over your shoulder.

Dyn hears the woman grunt in response before he follows you into a small elevated hut you had clambered up the stairs into. He couldn’t get his mind off those beasts, how have you all survived this long with them alive and prowling around? He’s brought from his thoughts as you unbuckle your utility belt and hang it on a hook before looking back at him spreading your arms a wide smile on your face.

“Home sweet home.”

Dyn looks around the humble abode momentarily. There’s not much to the square wooden hut, just a few trunks for storage, windows on each of the walls the gauzy curtains fluttering slightly in the breeze, and then two hammocks hanging from the ceiling. But no beds.

Even without seeing his face you can sense his confusion and hesitance at the situation. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly and shift from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry it’s not much, and about the hammocks,” You lightly tug the woven fabric, “it’s just with all the bugs and stuff we have to sleep off the ground and then no one has a full kitchen since we all –“

“It’s fine.” He states.

You stop your rambling and look up at him and nod your head, “Okay.” You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants when he doesn’t say anything else before sighing loudly.

“Well I guess I’ll get out of your hair and let you settle in” you walk towards the door to leave the two alone before his voice stops you once more.

“I can help you.”

His voice startles you every time, as ashamed as you are to admit it so soon, it’s weirdly attractive. A low and husky yet mechanical sound each time he talks through his mask. You turn to face him slightly, “what?”

“I can help you with those…Chroigs.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Wasn’t I the one who helped you earlier?” you smirked.

The man sighed, “I was surprised,” he defended, “And I also had the kid with me. If we can come up with a structured plan, I can help you get rid of them.”

You raised your head slightly taking in what he said. Could he really help you? He had weapons, a ship and very nice beskar armor, all things you’re sure he didn’t get without work.

“Who are you anyway?” you question, curiosity getting the best of you, “I mean you’re obviously out of your element, but you seem more than capable. So, I just want to know how a Mandalorian, one of the best fighters in the galaxy, ended up in the middle of nowhere with a child.”

At the mention of the child you looked down at the small figure in his arms only to find him staring straight at you, a curious look on its face. For some reason in that moment you felt an invisible connection to this small creature.

“it’s not important.” he avoided the question and interrupted your thoughts.

As much as his avoidance bothered you, you were shrugged and turned to exit the house once more, “I’ll be outside at the farm if you need anything.”

Dyn watched you exit, wariness still nagging at his mind. He wasn’t used to this. This caring and hospitable nature from others. For the most part everyone he’s seen recently has tried to kill him. He liked this. While he wasn’t completely sure they were out of danger yet, he could get used to the idea of laying low for a while. He watched as the little kid waddled around the small hut, curiously touching everything he could. He starts to carefully unpack their belongings stowing them in an empty trunk he spotted near one of the hammocks.

Soon after he had unpacked, he was about to get the kid and find you at the farm, but a loud commotion from outside caught his attention. He quickly picked up the child and strode out of the home towards the loud voices. He saw a small group of people surrounding a large man who was yelling at a much smaller woman, who he soon realized to be you.

“What were you thinking? Bringing a stranger into our home?” the man yells, it didn’t take a genius for Dyn to put the pieces together as to who the argument was about.

He starts to walk closer to the group as you jab your staff into the tall man’s chest, “Because Jaleer, he needed help! We’ve never turned away people in need.” You spit.

“No, we haven’t turned people away. But that’s a Mandalorian! They are nothing but killers and bounty hunters only out to help themselves, He’s going to bring nothing but trouble.” The man argued standing taller to tower over you even more.

While some of what the man said was true, Dyn couldn’t help the small sting he felt at the man’s words. Is that all anyone thought of him?

Jaleer’s words had angered you, your voice was raised to a considerably higher level, “No Jaleer! He’s…different. He’s not like that!” you defended.

“You’ve known him for a couple hours (Y/N) you know nothing about him or why he’s here.”

As this point the man, Jaleer, as Dyn had learned, glanced around him and spotted the man in the gleaming beskar armor. Jaleer shoved through the crowd roughly and stalked towards him. Dyn quickly set the kid on a box a few feet away before standing to face the man.

While the Mandalorian was tall, Jaleer still towered over him; a wall of pure muscle, black patterned tattoos covering his arms and a distrusting, angry sneer covering his face. However, despite the height difference, the man in question stands unmoving as Jaleer jabs an accusing finger at him.

“Why are you here Mandalorian?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” He replies coolly.

Jaleer takes a threatening step forward, “wrong answer.”

Dyn sees the man move to lunge at him but he is swift to move out of the way blocking the blow easily as he steps to the side. The large man stumbles as his momentum moves him forward but turns to face the Mandalorian once more, not keen on being made a fool of. Dyn just tilts his head in a condescending manner. Jaleer lets out an angry grunt before he grabs a staff similar to yours from his back and swings it down with much force towards the bounty hunter. Dyn lunges to the side, narrowly missing the weapon as it whistles past his head and strikes the ground with a thud. Before Jaleer can recover Dyn grasps the staff and rips it from the larger man’s grip. He spins around and knocks the man’s feet from underneath him in one fluid movement. Jaleer lets out a breathless grunt as he topples to the ground, wind ripped from his lungs.

The Mandalorian turns to face the crowd, seeing you standing at the forefront mouth agape at the quick an efficient way he took out the largest man in the village.

“I am not here to cause any trouble,” he states, “I am just here to help in exchange for shelter and food. I was attacked by the same beasts that plague your village and I will help you get rid of them for good.” The man looks from you, who has a small smile on your face, back to Jaleer who has finally stood from his place on the ground.

He offers the staff back to the man who snatches it from his grip angrily before jabbing it in his direction.

“This doesn’t change anything Mando, I still don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.” He seethes.

The Mandalorian just shrugs as he turns to pick up the child once more, “Which isn’t very far from what I can tell.” He mutters to himself.

Jaleer mutters and turns to you once more, “You better watch where you step around here girly, I still don’t trust you either.”

You roll your eyes and shove past the burly man, “Drop it Jaleer. I’ve earned my keep.”

You hear a loud huff and then fading footsteps as you walk over to the Mandalorian, “I’m sorry about him,” you apologize, “he’s a jerk.”

“Thank you.” Dyn says as you both walk back to your hut.

You turn to him as you reach your door, a confused look adorning your features, “What for?”

He shrugs lightly, “For defending me.”

You smile and rest your hand on his arm gently, trying to ignore the small spark you feel, “of course, you didn’t deserve what he said. Jaleer is just a jackass who is overprotective of his people.”

He just nods before climbing the steps of your hovel, you are following closely behind as dusk begins to settle on the encampment. When you walk in you remove one of the hammocks from the ceiling and start to walk it into a back room he hadn’t noticed before. You push the curtain aside to enter before rehanging the hammock and coming back into the main room.

“You can sleep in there if you’d like,” you offer, “again it’s not much but I know your people like your privacy and the whole - “ you pause to gesture vaguely as your face and head, “helmet thing.” You finish awkwardly.

He nods in thanks and asks, “What did Jaleer mean when he said he still doesn’t trust you?”

You sigh,nand lean against the counter, “I’m not originally from the planet,” you offer tentatively, “so when I landed here as a teenager I came across this village and eventually earned my place here. well, with most people anyway.”

you pull at the cloak around your shoulders, removing the heavy fabric and toss it absentmindedly over a nearby chest. feeling suffocated by the fabric and the topic of the conversation.

“Jaleer is the self-imposed ‘leader’“ you mimic quotation marks with your fingers, “of the village. I’ve never really told them my background so he still doesn't fully trust me even though the others have accepted me as one of them.” you shrug as you finish your explanation.

“What is your background?” Dyn asks without thinking, mentally kicking himself as he notices your change in body language.

You tense slightly at the question, not expecting it from the usually un-inquisitive man and open your mouth to give some vague answer, but a small whispery yawn interrupts you. Both of your attentions are drawn to the child still in the man’s arms. You seem to startle slightly, remembering something as you turn around a few times looking for the item on your mind. Dyn watches as you let out a quiet ‘ah-ha!’ and pull a small basket from underneath the small counter and grab some spare cloth from a nearby trunk neatly tucking it into the basket.

“For the kid,” you explain as you walk to the back room once more, the Mandalorian following closely behind.

You set the basket down in the corner of the room before turning to leave, accidentally running right into the bounty hunter. You gasp as your forehead connects with the cool metal of his chest plate and take a step back a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Sorry, I wasn’t- “you cut yourself off, and look to the child in his arms, “I can uh, put him in his bed real quick” you offer, trying to distract from the situaion you put yourself in.

You see the man tense up slightly and mentally kick yourself, “I just meant-“ you wave behind you to the bed, “Since I’m over here you know…” you trailed off, looking anywhere but the man in front of you, still overwhelmed by the lack of space between you two.

You are about to slip past him to escape when you seem him offer the small bundle to you. You hesitantly reach out and accept the child and are once again met with an instant connection as you hold him and gaze at him. his eyes are closed, and his little mouth is slightly parted as he breaths slowly, sleep having overcome him. You smile sweetly as you run a finger over his large ears. He is seriously so cute. You are suddenly aware once again of the closeness of your guest as he clears his throat.

You take in a deep breath and turn around to place the child gently in the basket. As you stand up, he whimpers slightly in his sleep and seems to reach out as if searching for something before settling once again. You turn back around, careful not to run into the Mandalorian again but instead of standing you see him sitting in the hammock. You smile at him and move to leave the room pulling the curtain aside. You hesitate before you completely exit and turn to face the man behind you.

“What he said wasn’t true you know.” You say quietly.

You see the man tilt his head slightly and continue as he remains silent.

“What Jaleer said earlier,” you explain, “I don’t think you’re just some bounty hunter or killer.” You look over at the sleeping child once more, “The kid proves that.” you state firmly as you glance back at the child thoughtfully.

you turn back to the Mandalorian and give a small smile, “Goodnight Mando.”

Dyn watches stunned as you leave the room, the green curtain swishing closed behind you. You continue to surprise him. He smiles a small smile and slowly removes his helmet once he is sure you won’t return. He slips out of his armor and gear and settles into the surprisingly comfortable hammock and relaxes for the first time in a long time.

As sleep starts to take over him the only thing he can think of is the fact that he likes the name ‘Mando’ on your lips a whole lot more than he expected.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #dyn jarren x reader #dyn jarren #baby yoda #star wars

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azumastan · 4 years ago

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can I live happily ever after?

characters: muku sakisaka, kazunari miyoshi - DO NOT tag as ship

genre: fluff/light angst? idk bro. there’s a little crying.

word count: 1356

ok so it is nearly 3am and i just finished this. it has minimal proofreading because i’m just proud to be done and it’s my baby boy’s birthday.

also, it’s the first fic i’ve posted on here!! wow!! how does it feel to be so special, muku?! so, comments and constructive criticism are welcome. i know some folks get picky about how their best boys are written, so i hope i do them justice and tell me how i can do better!

here we go~

Muku loves fairy tales and stories of romance. His dream is to be a prince like in the tales he loves so much. If he could be the kind of gentleman that comes to the rescue of a beautiful girl and they dance through the night, he would be as happy as can be.

But every time he loses himself in that fantasy, there’s no girl. Not really. Sometimes there’s a figure in a dress, but not anyone really specific.

It’s not a big deal. He’s not even in high school; he doesn’t HAVE to fall in love. It sounds so nice, though. Love has to be wonderful if he was able to fill a whole bookshelf with manga about it. The pounding heart, sweaty hands.....well, maybe not that part. Muku knows what anxiety feels like all too well. But to feel that way around someone special, and have them feel the same about him, that’s a dream that could come true.

What if there’s no princess for him?

The problem isn’t that he’s worried no one will fall for him, though that’s certainly crossed his mind.

No, that’s not it. The problem is that Muku likes boys.

Probably. It’s all really confusing and he’s only ever been sure about like, four things in his life, but he has a hard time picturing himself taking a girl out on a date despite reading hundreds of scenarios, and there’s this guy in his class who has some really interesting things to say about the book they’re reading. And maybe Muku laughed a little too hard at some joke he had made during algebra and maybe he turned redder than a tomato when he bumped into the other boy playing basketball in gym class.

So, he’s realized he might be gay, and he can’t stop thinking about how he’s supposed to have his happy ending now. There’s no fairy tales where the prince rides off with a kind kitchen boy on the back of his horse. No shoujo manga where the strong, silent guy offers to share his umbrella with the shy, pretty boy from class.

What kind of fantasy lies in Muku’s future then?

He laid there in his dorm bed, tears pricking his eyes. Ugh. He sniffled. How pathetic am I, crying over my non-existent love life because now I don’t know if I’ll ever get the happily ever after that I’ve read about? Muku wiped his watering eyes with his pajama sleeve and sniffled again.

“Mukkun?” Kazunari sat up in his bed, trying to see the boy with pink hair across the dark room. “Are you okay, Mukkun?”

“Oh! Kazunari! I’m okay, I swear! I’m sorry to bother you. Go back to sleep.”

“Nope.” Kazunari turned on his phone flashlight, climbed out of bed and turned on a floor lamp. “I was just scrolling through Instablam, anyway. You can talk to me,” he said, plodding over to Muku’s bed to look the younger boy in the eyes.

That was what broke the dam, sending tears streaming down Muku’s face. Kazunari hesitated before climbing up next to him and placing his arm around his sobbing roommate.

“Hey, hey. Mukkun, shhhh....... I got you,” he murmured.

In a minute, Muku’s tears stopped flowing so freely. After the whole room was silent for a little while, Kazunari asked “Do you want me to go get Juza?”

Muku shook his head, and, voice quivering, he replied, “I think — I think I just needed to cry, Kazu-kun. Really.” He punctuated this statement with another sniffle, causing Kazunari’s brow to furrow. Still doubtful, the blond boy took his arm back, giving Muku some space if he wanted it. Muku didn’t seem to notice the absence of Kazunari’s arm, but he did turn his head towards him.

“Hey, uh, Kazu-kun? Do you have any gay friends?” Muku’s voice trailed off at the end of his question, a little uncomfortable with what he was saying and afraid Kazunari would know what he was getting at before he said anything explicitly.

Kazunari smiled. “Totes! I’ve got loads of LGBT pals! Wait.” He laughed a little. Muku’s heart sank. Did he know what Muku was thinking? Was he going to laugh at him? Oh no, no, please, not that…..

“Dude, did you think I was straight?! LMAO, it’s not like I try to hide it.”

Muku’s jaw dropped. “You—? But you’re always going on about all the cute girls outside when we do street acts.”

The young man shrugged. “Yeah. I do like girls, but I like boys too. I like a lot of people.”

“Oh.” Muku sighed, feeling weirdly light after what Kazunari admitted. “Sorry I assumed anything, I just thought, hey, Kazunari has a lot of friends, maybe he knows some people who fell in love like in a shoujo manga and it didn’t matter that they didn’t like girls—��

“Hey.” Kazunari ruffled the middle school boy’s pink mop of hair. “Would that have anything to do with what had you so upset, Mukkun?”

He breathed in, and in what seemed to be one long exhale, Muku managed to speak practically a whole chapter. “UhhhhhhsureIthinkI’mgayandit’snotabigdealIthink. Isitabigdeal? Idon’tknowandIguessItrynottodwellonitbutifIwanttobeaprincehowcanIdothatifIdon’twanttomarryaprincessand-“

“Whoa there! Slow down, bro!” Kazunari took Muku’s hand. “I got most of that, but you need to breathe, Mukkun! Okay, go on.”

Taking a few deep breaths at his roommate’s suggestion, Muku continued. “I think, maybe, I’m gay? Because I can’t really picture my future princess, and you know about my imagination, hahaha. And there’s a boy in my class that makes my heart pound like crazy and it’s just like a shoujo manga says it should be, but that’s about boys and girls and I know it’s not…..wrong, but it doesn’t feel….right, exactly. Princes get the girl, that’s how it always is. And I don’t want to give up on that dream,” he finished as his voice started to break.

Kazunari sucked in his lips, trying to think of a response that would calm him down and cheer him up, but he didn’t want to confuse the young boy any farther. He knew himself what it was like to be in school and fall for other boys, and Muku, notorious for having his head in the clouds, made a lot of very good points. There aren’t any gay fairy tales or gay princes. And while Muku didn’t need any help getting lost in a fantasy, it can’t be easy when every romance he sees is showing him that straight is the default.

Well, he could do something about that.

Kazunari put his hand on Muku’s head again, and said, “I’m really glad you told me about this. I wish I had something more helpful to tell you right now, but I’m beat, and you probably are too. We should try to get some sleep. But you don’t have to forget about your dream, okay? You’re gonna be the best prince there ever was.”

“Okay. Good night, Kazu,” he said with a yawn. Guess Kazunari couldn’t have timed that better.

“Good night, Mukkun,” Kazunari pushed himself off of Muku’s bed, walked over to turn out the light, and then crawled back into his own bed.

------------------

The next afternoon, Muku went to his room to drop off his school bag when he noticed a folded piece of paper on his desk that read “Prince Mukkun.” Dropping his bag and picking up the mystery paper, he opened it to find a gorgeous pencil drawing of himself in a fine military uniform, wearing a crown, and sitting atop a white horse. Even more surprising, there was a black-haired boy with a regal looking tunic and a sword standing next to the horse. There was a caption at the bottom of the page that read “The Prince and the Knight.”

Muku’s face broke out into a smile. He hadn’t signed it, but it was undeniably the work of Kazunari. Grabbing a push pin, he put the picture up on his bulletin board next to the calendar. Then, he left the dorm room to sit in the courtyard and mentally continue the story Kazunari had started for him.

#a3!#a3! actor training game #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! fic #a3! fanfiction #muku birthday #muku sakisaka #a3! muku #kazunari miyoshi #a3! kazunari #ideally i wanted yuki in this too but. roommates. also i need to get some sleep wow i really had kazu call me out when i wrote this 20 min #ago. oops. also this definitely is not inspired by my real feelings.#I GREW UP ON DISNEY BUT THIS DON'T FEEL LIKE DISNEY #AJR was really onto something there huh

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altarflame · 4 years ago

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Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time. My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave. I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day. But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA. *MILLS* . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often. I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest. I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time. I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it. I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little. And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good. I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day. I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill. The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently. We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous. He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb. So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love? How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on. I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW. I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all). Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3

#personal #long text posts #polyamory #Mills #loss #Sterling #motherhood #MSW

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

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All you have to be is here - Part 4

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who’s smile is phenomenal and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 4 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Also this chapter was partially inspired by this post by @sinfulserpents about Billy playing piano. Credit where credit is due.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please. I’ll make a header image at some point.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

Hawkins seems to be caught under a heavy blanket of thick gray clouds. Rain is thumping down on the roof of Billy’s car, drumming along to the song coming from his car radio.

This weather makes Billy miss the California sun extra hard. It just all seems even more dull and boring and — grey.

He drives along the narrow roads of the town flanked by trees left and right. The therapy session as ended just a few minutes ago though he doesn’t particularly want to go home just yet. It’s saturday which means Neil is home which means all there is for Billy is yelling and looks of utter disgust thrown his way. And though he’s used to it all, he takes the long way home.

The camaro is his safe place. It feels more like a home than his actual home ever did. It’s solely his. It’s so much more than just a status symbol, it’s his escape. Whenever things at his house get too loud, too much, too hard to handle, he just gets in his car and drives. As far and as long as he can. Far away from the bullshit and the hurt and the toxicity of one Neil Hargrove.

The silhouette of a person appearing in front of him, walking slowly along the side of the road makes him slow down a little. It’s a woman — no, it’s a girl, dragging a large duffle bag.

Everything inside of Billy screams at him to ignore it. To let this be someone else’s problem. To just keep driving. Keep driving.

As he gets closer though, he catches a glimpse of the girl’s face and suddenly it’s not just a stranger anymore. It’s someone that he kind of knows. Someone that he’s talked to before. It’s someone he’s well aware can use all the help she can possibly get.

So he slows down and comes to a stop beside her.

“ Hey, hey uh — “ fuck what was her name again “ — Alex ? “

When she looks up at him, it becomes abundantly clear that she’s been crying. Even with the rain pouring down on her, soaking her down to her bones, there’s no doubt in his mind that she’s been crying. He knows what crying girls look like, seen the red in his mother’s eyes one too many times. She always tried to hide it, play it off as if it was nothing. Hay fever, stress, a sad movie she’d seen. It was always something else but never the truth. Billy used to wonder if she was telling those lies to convince him or herself.

There’s something else about Alex that looks familiar though and it makes Billy’s blood boil. A big bruise colors the side of her cheek in hues of blues and purples.

“ B — Billy ? “

“ Where are you going ? “ he asks through the open window, hoping to god that the raindrops finding their way inside the car won't ruin his seats too much.

She sniffles then looks around as if trying to find the right words floating through the air around her. “ Wherever this road leads, I guess “

“ You guess ? Hey aren’t you supposed to be back at home ? “

“ HHTCY ? Yeah. But I — I can’t go back now. “

“ And why’s that ? “

“ None of your business ! “ he can see the tears rising again as she snaps at him. Her hands curl up into fists, gripping tightly to the handle of her duffle bag.

“ C’mon Alex, get in the car. “

“ I can’t go home ! “

“ I’m not taking you there! “

She hesitates for a moment. When he looks back at him, her eyes lock with his and there’s a silent question in them. He knows the emotions running through her, knows them all too well. They’re ever present in him. Wherever he goes, whatever he does.

She asks if she can trust him. Asks herself more than she asks him. Billy can’t blame her for that.

“ I promise. “

Billy doesn’t make a lot of promises but the one he does make, he wholeheartedly intends to keep. There’s no room in his life for fake promises, he’s been on the receiving end of far too many of those.

“ I promise to protect you. “

“ I promise, we’ll be out of here one day. “

“ I promise I’ll be back soon. “

They all mean shit and in the end they hurt far more than the truth ever could.

“ I promise, Alex. I don’t break my promises. “

He doesn’t know why it suddenly become so important to him to get this girl out of the rain and bring her someplace safe but it does. Maybe it’s because he’s growing soft. Or maybe it’s because he knows the pain she’s feeling, the sadness, the anger.

Maybe it’s because in that moment she reminds him all too much of himself.

“ Okay. Thank you. “ her words are but a whisper as she walks around the car and slumps down on the passenger seat.

If this was any other day, Billy would be complaining about her wet clothes against his precious leather seats and her dirty boots propped up against the door. He doesn’t though. Because it isn’t another day. It’s this moment and this lonely broken girl.

So he swallows his pride, keeps his mouth shut, and drives.

“ Holy shit “

“ Nice to see you too. “

(Y/N) stands by her front door only in a pair of short pajama shorts and an oversized sweater. Her hair is piled on top of her head and yesterday’s makeup is still smudged around her eyes. Earlier, Billy had left before she had even gotten up but seeing her in all her post party glory, he wishes he hadn’t.

“ I uh — what are you guys doing here ? “

“ Can we come in ? “ Billy asks, motioning his head towards a still completely soaked Alex who timidly hides behind his frame.

“ Oh yeah, sure. Please. Alex let me get you a change of clothes and some towels. “

As (Y/N) hurries Alex into her bedroom, Billy walks towards the fridge, takes out two cans of Doctor Pepper and sits down on the couch. It’s only the second time he’s been here but it feels weirdly familiar, like he’s been here a thousand times before. He feels comfortable. He feels safe. And maybe that’s why he’s brought Alex here. To make her feel as secure as he does whenever he’s around (Y/N).

She radiates a warmth he’s never encountered in another person ever before. Not even his mom on good days. It’s like a little ray of California sun captured in a person.

How awfully cheesy.

When the girls return he hands one of the cans to Alex then opens his as she sits down next to him.

He doesn’t miss the way (Y/N) smirks as she watches him act like this is his home, giving out drinks and making himself comfortable on her couch.

“ So, can I finally ask what’s going on ? “ (Y/N) asks and for a moment no one answers. That is until Billy realizes she’s looking at him, asking him for an answer.

“ Don’t look at me. “

“ Well you brought her here. “

“ Because I made a promise. “

“ Guys, I’m right here, you know ? “ Alex chimes up, taking part in the conversation for the first time since they arrived. As she lifts her head and the hair shifts off of her face, (Y/N) catches sight of the bruise.

“ Oh. “

“ It’s nothing. “

Oh it all sounds so familiar. He knows those words too well, sure they’ve left his mouth many times before. It’s nothing. It isn’t though. It’s everything.

“ That’s not nothing, Alex “ (Y/N) chimes up, softly taking the girls hands into hers “ what happened ? “

“ It doesn’t matter. “

But it does matter. It matters a whole lot.

“ Alex, someone hurt you. We have to talk about this. “ (Y/N) tries again.

“ No we don’t ! “ Alex yells, ripping her hands out of (Y/N)’s “ because if I tell you, you will tell Lydia. Then I won’t be allowed to see my mom anymore and I — I miss her. But I know she won’t stop seeing Kyle so — I promise, it’s nothing. “

There’s tears now. There used to be for Billy when he was younger. They made things worse though. Neil doesn’t do well with crying, especially crying boys, especially his crying son. Billy hasn’t cried in a long time. At least not for anyone to see.

In private, that’s a whole different story.

“ Alex, if I promise you that you will still get to see your mom, will you tell me what happened ? “

To his surprise, Alex glances towards Billy, sends him another silent question. Do we trust (Y/N) ?

Billy nods. He trust her more than pretty much anyone else in his life right now. It fucking scares him.

“ Kyle is my mom’s new boyfriend. He lives with her, I guess. Came home this morning and didn’t like that I was there. That mom and I had fun, kept laughing through his tv show. He smacked me right in the face, told me I was too loud. And mom — mom just stood there. Didn’t do nothing. She just watched, looked at the ground. Then told me to leave. She chose him over me and she will chose him over me any other time too. I miss her though, I want to see her. I do. “

Billy’s blood is boiling again, sending hot shivers down his back. He’s pretty sure his lip is drawing blood by how hard he has to bite down on it not to get up and find the guy. Make him feel just as small and helpless and he did this girl. She’s a little girl. You don’t smack around girls, ever. And her mother? God, what a bitch. You’re supposed to love your kid, protect them. Fight their fights for them.

“ Alex, I need to tell Lydia what happened but I pro — “

“ You can’t ! They won’t let me see mom again. “

“ I promise you they will. It just won’t be overnight and she won’t get to take you home but you will get to go places together and she will get to come see you. I promise. I promise. “

The girl is in her arms in the matter of seconds, holding on to her as if all depends on it, as if she’s the only thing keeping her afloat. Billy thinks that maybe that’s how he’s feeling too.

He gets up slowly and walks towards the kitchen area, throwing his can in the trash and opening the freezer. “ Knew it. “

As he sits back down next to Alex, he holds out a pack of peas, wrapped in a kitchen towel.

“ huh ? “

“ Hold them to your bruise, cools it down. The peas work better than anything else cause they take the shape of your face better. Some girl once told me that and she was absolutely right. “ Billy explains and throws (Y/N) a wink as she glances at him over Alex’s head.

As she smiles back at him, he feel it again. That one ray of California sun.

Two hours, a lot of tears and several episodes of Happy Days later, Alex is fast asleep on the couch, Luke the cat happily resting on top of her.

The rain has stopped and Billy has resorted to the tiny little balcony that looks out into the woods. It feels tranquil here, almost like time stops. Though his insides are a whole nother story. Fury is still brewing inside him only waiting for the inevitable eruption.

He’s used to swallowing his anger when it’s about him. He’s used to ignoring the facts that he shouldn’t be in the situation he’s in. So fucking used to being miserable all the times. So much so that at this point it’s become his default.

It’s a different story when it happens to someone else though. He can’t just stand there and pretend like this is okay. Like her mother isn’t a full on trash person for not protecting her daughter, for choosing some dude’s micro dick over her own flesh and blood. And the guy ? He doesn’t even want to think about him. Thinking too much about it would only fuel the fire that’s already threatening to burn everything to the ground.

The balcony doors slide open then close again. Billy doesn’t need to turn around to know who comes to stand beside him. She brings a warmth wherever she goes.

For a moment they don’t speak, just soaking up the fresh air still thick with a promise of more rain to come. It’s not cold out yet but the wind sends a chill down (Y/N)’s skin and makes her move just a little closer towards Billy so that her arm just merely brushes his.

Billy takes one last drag from his cigarette before he stubbs it out and throws it down over the railing.

“ Sorry I didn’t warn you. I just — she didn’t want to go home and I didn’t know where to bring her. “

His voice is deep and husky and he tries to hide his emotions but he knows they’re shining through.

“ Don’t apologize. You did the right thing ! “

“ Yeah ? “ he turns to face her. There’s absolutely no uncertainty in her eyes. None. It’s something he appreciates about her. (Y/N) doesn’t do things half-assed. No half assed hugs. No half assed friendships. No half assed caring. No uncertainty.

Billy however, feels awfully uncertain about — well everything.

“ Obviously, Billy. You got her out of a shitty situation and you did what was right. You made her a promise and you kept it. You made her trust you and you didn’t break her trust. What you did was right ! What you did was very sweet . “

Billy scoffs out a humorless laugh “ sweet huh? Billy Hargrove, local asshole, doing the right thing for once in his life. Shout it from the rooftops, people. Put it on the front page, it doesn’t happen much. “

“ Would you stop “

“ It’s true, (Y/N). I fuck everything up I — I’m gonna fuck this up at some point sooner or later “ he says and motions between them two “ I haven’t yet but I will, I just know it. “

“ Is that really what you think ? “ (Y/N) questions, softly placing her hand on Billy’s arm though he quickly pulls away, lunging into another rant.

“ It’s what I do, (Y/N). I almost fucked it up earlier. When she told us what happened, I wanted to punch something. The guy, preferably. I wanted to destroy something. I’m angry. All the time. All the time, (Y/N), and that just put a cherry on top. She’s just a kid. Who punches a kid ? And for what ? For laughing ? For doing what kids do, what they should be allowed to do. It just won’t make sense. She’s a little girl, for fucks sake. And her mother ? Just stands there and watches. She knows what happens. She knows. “

And suddenly it’s not about the girl on the couch anymore.

“ She knows so why did she leave ? It must be because I fuck things up. It must be. There’s no way. There’s just no way she — “

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He can’t. His words become a blubbering mess as the tears cloud his vision. Billy Hargrove hasn’t cried to anyone but his pillow in what feels like forever. Because there was no one there who would’ve cared. To not judge him for it or make him feel less manly. All that ever came with tears was more anger, more resentment, more pain.

It’s different now though because as soon as the first tear falls, he’s engulfed by a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. He buries his head in the crook of (Y/N) neck, her hair sheltering him from the world. She’s warm and soft and comfortable. Crying doesn’t make him feel vulnerable or angry. It doesn’t scare him. It’s cathartic.

“ You’re gonna be okay, Billy. “ (Y/N) says and pulls away slightly as his tears start to slow down.

He doesn’t want to be okay though. He wants to be good. He wants to be grand.

As she takes his face in between her hands and brushes back some of his hair, he can see her eyes are glossed over. The emotions he’s feeling, she’s feeling too. Feeling with him. He doesn’t think anyone has cared this much in a long time.

She smiles again, so soft, so gentle, it’s hardly a smile at all. And yet, he thinks right then, that maybe it’s not just one ray of sunlight, maybe it’s the entire sun.

They bring Alex home later that day but Billy comes back to (Y/N)’s place. You don’t just cry to someone about your fucked up childhood and then leave. There’s no manual for it but Billy is fairly sure that’s not how this works.

He stays until Sunday afternoon, eating pizzas and watching stupid tv shows. He watches her do her hair, listens to her sing, just experiences her day to day life and something in him changes. He wishes he could have this. A home that doesn’t feel like a prison. A place where he can be himself. Free. Safe. Happy.

When he leaves, neither of them mentions that moment on the balcony. Some things you don’t need to say, to talk about. Some things you just feel.

It’s monday after school when Billy arrives back at HHTCY. (Y/N) isn’t there yet so he changes into his “uniform” and checks his schedule for where exactly he has to be to help set up.

“ Room 322 “

It’s not a room he’s familiar with but what he does know, is that it’s located in the newer section of the place. There’s a gym there too and an auditorium for when they have little festivals or the kids put on plays.

Soon enough Billy finds himself pushing open the doors to room 322. It’s a large room and ar first all he notices is a few rows of chairs on one side of the room, that is until he walks inside a little further. At the other end of the room, there’s all kinds of instruments. A drumset sits in the corner, several guitars are resting against the wall, flutes and clarinets and trombones are placed neatly in a shelf.

And then there’s the piano.

It’s stuck right in the middle of the room surrounded by all the other instruments on one side and the chairs on the other. Made from a dark wood it shines in the harsh light of the ceiling lamp.

As Billy walks closer, memories from his childhood pop up like ghosts in a christmas movie. Taunting him with what once was. Teasing him with what could have been. What could still be.

He remembers one time when he was maybe 7 and dad had a proper job for a while. They had moved to a really nice house that had big sliding windows leading out onto the beach and the ocean. Mom was happy then. Probably happier than he’d ever seen her. Before and after.

She had a piano there and she always played it. Always. She kept the windows open and let Billy play by the water. He could hear her music all the way down to the beach.

He loved to watch her play. There was a smile in the corner of her lips whenever she played. A secret smile reserved for only the music. Her fingers moved over the keys so elegantly. Like they were dancing.

Billy loved to watch and he loved to listen. So much so, that he memorized her exact movements. Memorized each small little gesture. He knew just by watching and listening, what keys to press at what time to create which sound.

Billy Hargrove taught himself to play piano by ear without even knowing or realizing it. Solely and purely to be able to remember the magic his mother brought to those days at the beach when things were happy and the secret smile was still there in the corner of her lips.

They didn’t live there for very long and things got way worse after that and the piano was sold to put food on the table and the secret smile was gone and never seen again.

Slowly his feet drag him towards the instrument, like he has no real control over them. His mom always had a certain gift of creating magic in a moment with just pushing down a few keys on the piano. She captured all the best things about life in one short melody.

Billy despises his dad for taking that away from her. For taking away the magic and the smile. For making her leave.

When he sits down by the piano, Billy closes his eyes and tries to remember the days of summer. Tries to remember sitting by the open window and watching his mom play. Play and smile. He tries to remember the sound of the songs and the movements of her fingers.

It feels like it happened just yesterday and in another life altogether.

His fingers begin to move along the keys trying to remember, trying so hard to recall.

And before he knows what happens really, he plays. A soft melody echoes around the room and for a fleeting moment it feels like he succeeds in capturing the magic just the way his mother did.

Only he’s still Billy Hargrove. Local asshole. Broken boy with daddy and mommy issues who always fucks things up for everyone. There’s no magic in him. Maybe there used to be when he was a kid with big blue eyes and an imagination and an innocent heart.

His fingers stop moving and he lifts his head and opens his eyes, expecting to find a big empty room void of all magic.

Only he doesn’t.

He’s met with a pair of eyes sparkling at him and that one of a kind sunshine smile that he’s grown so fucking fond of in the last few days.

Her eyes are so soft and kind and there’s no judgement in them and yet Billy feels insanely insecure. He’s never showed this to anyone. Never let anyone but his mom know that he was able to play.

It feels more intimate than sex ever did. This is stripping down on a whole new level.

“ I uh — sorry I didn’t — I “ he doesn’t really know what to say.

“ Don’t apologize. That was amazing. I didn’t know you could play. “

Truth be told, until just then Billy believed he had forgotten how to do it. And really, he can’t play he just mimics what his mom used to do. All theory, that’s completely lost on him. He just knows how to do the songs his mom used to play. Put a sheet of music in front of him and he’s hopeless.

“ I only know a few songs. The ones I heard as a kid. “

“ Heard ? You play this by ear ? “

He shrugs “ — and eyes I guess. Watched my mom do it. “

“ That’s incredible Billy. Can you — can you play another one ? “

Her voice has never been so soft with him, as if she’s afraid of breaking him should she talk any louder. And truth be told she just might.

There’s a song his mom always used to play, it’s hidden in the corner of Billy’s mind but he knows he can play it. Remembers it so vividly. It was in some cheesy Audrey Hepburn movie his mom made him watch with her one day. From the moment she heard that song she was enchanted by it, tried to buy ever cover version she could find on vinyl and made it her mission to learn how to play it on piano.

He didn’t like the Audrey version all that much. The one his mom played though, he loved that one. Loves it. Present tense.

So he closes his eyes again and plays, he’s rusty at first but soon enough his fingers glide along the keys creating music. Creating magic, maybe ?

He knows there is magic though, when a voice starts to sing along. It’s soft and quiet at first but as the song continues she seems to get more comfortable. More sure of herself.

Billy feels that in that moment when she’s sitting down beside him on the piano bench, singing along to the song he’s playing for her, the song his mom used to play, that magic is present in all of it. There’s enchantment in the way she softly touches his shoulder. How she giggles when she doesn’t hit the note just right. How she makes him feel so effortlessly at home right there with her. Making music. Making magic.

The song ends and Billy turns to her then opens his eyes and oh god she’s so close. She’s so close he can see the different colored specks in her eyes creating one pool of kindness and wonder. He can feel the tip of her nose against his and her breath on his skin.

There’s so much he wants to say and yet no words would ever suffice.

The words of the song keep echoing in his head, louder and louder with each heartbeat, each breath mingling, each soft touch of her fingers against his shoulder.

“ Two drifters off to see the world. “

“ (Y/N) — “ he says, trying to even his breath, calm his heart.

“ Hmm ? “

“ When’s your birthday ? “

“ Friday three weeks from now “

He nods then leans in closer, and closer.

Only to pull away when the heavy doors open and a gaggle of kids rush into the room.

And the moment is gone.

And the magic is gone.

Only it’s still there. Hidden in the corner of his lips, a secret smile meant just for her.

Taglist:

@babygal-babygal / @anxiousamandapanda / @imjusthereforsupernatural / @chhhcherybomb / @tomarisela / @noodlenerd101 / @xxcxrolinexx

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfiction

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secret-kkh-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Set Fire to the Rain | Chapter 1

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like but DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

Healing Scars - Your soulmate can heal your cuts and scars by literally 'kissing it better'.

Author Note:

This is the first oneshot written for my Zuatara soulmate AU challenge. I have a lot of fun writing these AUs, and it’s fun to imagine all the different ways they could find out.

This one, I wanted them getting together to be a mutual decision before finding out they’re soulmates.

I have also been making small changes to this one overtime.

Kiss Me Better

“Hey, Zuko, you coming in?” Sokka asked him from the doorway of his family’s beach house where he had stopped short of going in.

He looked at the boy, then back out into the darkness of the beach where he could faintly see a girl huddled up in the sand. He held great respect for Sokka. When he wasn’t acting like a complete dork, well, he was actually kind of a genius. But how did he not notice that his sister wasn’t in the house yet?

“I’ll be there soon. I just have something to do,” he told him.

“Okay, well don’t be out too late. Tonight was kind of rough. And I think we’re doing some training tomorrow?” He looked back inside before poking his head back out in concern. “Hey, have you seen Katara?” With a sigh, Zuko gave a small smile of relief and tilted his head out towards the beach. Sokka looked out to where he nodded, straining his eyes to see. Finally he seemed to spot the figure alone on the sand. He looked back at Zuko and something seemed to click. “Ohhhhh… Okay then. I repeat. Don’t be out too late. And please bring my sister back inside, would ya?”

“That was the intention,” he said. “I don’t think she took the play very well. I’ll go talk to her.”

“I don’t think any of us took it very well.” His expression darkened a little, and he went to close the door. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he said wryly.

With that, he walked down the steps and back towards the beach and the girl he could see tracing swirls in the sand.

He knew that the play had gotten everyone down, but he had a feeling there was something else wrong. He knew that the portrayal of her had bugged her. They had done everything they could to make her not look like a threat. Making her a crybaby who blubbered about hope, but could do nothing self, who dressed in skimpy clothing and threw herself at every man on stage except the Avatar (who wasn’t actually a man on stage). But it wasn’t just that either. She had been defiant about that. He had noticed that when they came back from the intermission she had seemed tense. She also refused to look at Aang, who had sat up behind them this time,��the rest of the night and he wondered if something had happened.

As he got closer, he heard her sigh as she continued to draw patterns in the sand. Either he was stealthier than he thought, or she was too deep in thought because she didn’t notice him until he was right beside her. She jumped slightly as if she were startled, and he heard her sudden intake of breath.

“It’s just me,” he told her, sitting down beside her. It was a moonless night, and dark clouds had rolled in on their way back, darkening the sky to the point that anyone beyond the torchlight were little more than a person-shaped shadow with a few vague features. She turned to face him, him anyway, and he could just make out the brightness of her eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked him. Her voice lacked its usual fire, and he frowned.

“I came to keep you company. Or talk, or whatever you want to do. Even if you just want me here to start a fire to stay warm and not say anything. I just… I don’t think you should be out here alone. And you looked like you needed someone to talk to. If - if you want to talk to someone else I could go get Sokka, or Suki… Maybe Toph? I don’t know, she’s very blunt…”

This make Katara giggle a little. “Thank you, Zuko. It means a lot.”

“It’s not a problem.” He shrugged. “I don’t think any of us are feeling all that okay after the end of that play… But that’s not what’s got you put out, is it?”

There was a moment of silence, and he could barley even hear her breathe. “How did you know that?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“I just… you looked tense when you came back from intermission. And-”

“And what?”

He hesitated a moment before telling her, unsure if he was overstepping any boundaries. “I noticed that you were sort of… avoiding Aang.”

“Was it that obvious?” she said miserably.

“N-no!” he was quick to say. “I, um… I may not be very good with people, but I am pretty good at reading them. Or, observing them. Weirdly enough. And um… No, I don’t think anyone else would have noticed. But you seemed tense and I was trying to figure out why. ...Did something happen?”

She sighed deeply but didn’t say anything. For a moment he thought that she wouldn’t and that they would just sit there in silence. So, he was surprised when she did speak.

“Aang kissed me!” she blurted out. His eyebrows rose in surprise, and for a moment a hot wave of jealousy swept over him. He managed to stifle it, feeling an anxious knot form in his stomach instead, but he didn’t get the chance to comment as she continued on. “I mean, it’s not the first time he’s done it. He kissed me right before the siege. I was so surprised I didn’t know how to react, and then he was gone. And - and tonight. During that scene in the crystal caves when they put in that scene with the two of us, he stormed out of the theater. So, when he didn’t come back I went to look for him.” She sighed heavily again, and he heard her move. She seemed to curl up on herself even more. “I found him outside and he seemed… I don’t know, just not okay. I asked if he was alright and… he snapped at me. He said he wasn’t and he sounded really angry. And that’s just not like Aang. Well, he does that sometimes when he’s stressed. But… not like that. Anyway, after he had his upset outburst he quietened down a bit and he - well, he asked me if I had meant what I said in there. I was really confused. He was saying something about me thinking of him as a brother and I realised he was talking about the play, so I told him that I’d never said that.” She paused her rushed explanation to take a deep breath, and he saw her anxiously tug at her hair. “He said how since we kissed at the invasion he thought that we were going to be together and he didn’t understand why we weren’t. And I… I told him I didn’t know. And he started demanding to know why I didn’t know and when would I know. And I was telling him that there was a war going on and we had other things to worry about. And that I’m - I’m confused. And - and then he just kissed me. I had just told him I was confused and he kissed me anyway! I don’t know, maybe he was thinking that kissing me would help me make up my mind, but…” She let out a growl of frustration, then her head fell forward to rest on her knees. “Was I… was I wrong to get angry at him?”

Her rant petered out and Zuko stared at her shape through the darkness. He sighed, not quite sure what to say to comfort her, or to help her fix her problem. “I know he’s just a kid… but Aang shouldn’t have done that,” he told her. She looked up at him sharply and he could see her eyes glint slightly. “No one should kiss someone when they don’t want to be. And I know he’s just a kid, but you telling him you were confused was a pretty clear no, and he should have understood that. You have every right to be upset about it.”

“Thanks.”

“And if it helps, knowing him, he’s probably feeling really guilty about it. I don’t know if he knows what he did was wrong. But he knows he upset you.”

“Yeah…”

“Do… do you want to talk about it more or…?” he said awkwardly.

“Well, what is there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, why are you confused? I mean, we’ve sorted the issue of what happened tonight, but the root of the problem isn’t resolved. He’s only going to ask you about it again, so… what’s got you so confused?”

“Um… like I said, we’re in the middle of a war. And I… never mind.”

“And?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not figuring out the problem, Katara,” he teased leaning over to bump into her playfully. “But, I guess I see what you mean. It’s not exactly practical to start a relationship in the middle of a war, especially if you aren’t sure if either of you are going to make it out of it… But it’s not something that would make you confused. It’s an excuse. I mean, look at your brother and Suki. We’re in the middle of a war, and they are doing everything they can to make me uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Don’t walk into either of their tents at night.” He could feel his face burn as horrifying memories of Sokka surrounded by candles with a rose in his mouth came to mind.

“Oh,” she sniggered.

“So, what’s got you so confused?” Again, Katara was silent, and he got the feeling that she either didn’t know where to start, or how to explain it. “How about we ask the most obvious question, then. Do you have feelings for Aang?”

At this she was silent again, but he could see her fidgeting as she mulled the question over. “I don’t know,” she told him eventually. “I - I don’t know if I have feelings for him romantically. I’ve never actually thought about it. He’s a good, sweet kid, and I do love him… I just… don’t know in which way. It’s different to the way I love Sokka, so I don’t love him like a brother. But, I don’t know if I do love him that way. But I know that he likes me that way, obviously and… I don’t know. I don’t want to let him down…”

Zuko mentally smirked when he heard her call Aang a kid. She may not know how she felt about him, but he knew from that statement it couldn’t possibly be romantic. Aang was only twelve, after all. And though there was only two years age difference between them… biologically, just the same as between he and Katara, there was a much larger maturity diffence. Despite the severity burden placed on him, Aang hadn’t grown up yet. He was still pretty immature, often thinking selfishly, seeing things within his own rules, having outbursts and running away. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, growing up too fast was a burden he and Katara knew of well and wouldn’t wish on anyone. And as she’d said, he was still just a kid. Of course, it wasn’t exactly for him to tell her that. This was something she had to figure out for herself, he was just there to help her along. “Okay, well… how did you feel when he kissed you that first time?”

“I… don’t know. That first time he kissed me I was just surprised. I didn’t know how to react. It was just… strange. And I didn’t really have any time to react or process it, because immediately after, we began the attack. And… and I don’t know if that’s because of how I actually feel, or what I know.”

“What you know?”

“Aang… Aang isn’t my soulmate,” she said, the statement rushed as if she were forcing it out. “When Azula hit him with lightning… I was so scared. And I wanted him to be okay. He was… kind of in and out of consciousness for weeks, but he doesn’t remember any of it. I was so desperate for him to be okay. And there was this huge scar in the middle of his back and I thought… maybe if I kissed it, it would go away. I could make him better. S-so I tried it, but nothing happened. I mean, I know that it takes a while to heal large scars with soulmates - I remember it taking an entire year for mama to kiss away the scar dad got from a sabertooth sealephant - but there was nothing. No change and… and I didn’t feel like anything had happened. So… I don’t know if I’m holding back because I know that or not. I know you can be happy with someone who isn’t your soulmate, but… I just don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, feeling as if his stomach were sinking. “Do you want to kiss him?”

Again, Katara stayed silent and his stomach twisted into knots as he anxiously waited for her answer. He wasn’t going to push, but the suspense was almost killing him. He kind of regretted bringing this up. He felt as if he were going to be sick.

“What do you mean?” she asked him. “Do I want to kiss him back or…?

“No, I mean… just kiss him. Do you look at him and just feel bumbleflies in your stomach, and your heart beats faster, because wow, he takes your breath away. And you want to just reach over and kiss her… I mean him!” he corrected as his thoughts began to drift away with him as he recalled the feeling. Visions of dark hair and blue eyes in the sunlight making him lose his breath a moment.

His slip up, however, made Katara laugh. “You got someone you want to kiss in mind, there, Zuko,” she teased.

He smiled, happy to hear her laugh. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

“O-oh.” He noticed that her tone dropped and she sounded a little sadder. The thought twisted his guts while also making him feel a little hopeful. “Is it that girl with the knives you said you were with? Mai?”

This threw him a moment. He doesn't think he ever actually had that feeling about Mai. They had kind of just happened, and he had enjoyed it. He really, really liked Mai… But he didn’t have the same feeling like his chest was about to burst with warmth every time he looked at her. Not like he did with Katara.

“No. Not her. I liked being with her… but I don’t think it was ever that… strong. I know it seems horrible to say, especially after what she did for me, but… as much as I liked her, I don’t think I loved her.”

“Oh.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Katara blurted, “I don’t think I feel that way about Aang. I… I don’t feel like there are bumbleflies in my belly. N-not with him.”

“Not with…” he faded out as he realised what she was getting at.

“I do feel them when I look at someone else, though. That was my ‘never mind’ before. I’ve been… I’ve been feeling like that about someone for a little while. And I’ve been trying to ignore it because… because it’s ridiculous right? It could never happen... And, to be honest, I initially thought it was something else entirely.”

“Oh,” he said, all the air in his lungs leaving him. He tried not to panic or get jealous as he thought about who it could be. If it wasn’t Aang, then… It couldn’t be Sokka, he was her brother. There were no other guys in the group. There were the girls, but Suki was taken. And like Aang, Toph seemed a little young for Katara. He thought back to when he had first joined them in the temple. There was that boy in the wheelchair, Tao. And there was that Earthbender, Haru. He had certainly seemed pretty interested in her. And Sokka had told him how she had helped Haru and that he thought she’d had a little thing for him… Even then it had stirred feelings of jealousy in him… Was there a reason she couldn’t be with either of those two?

“Zuko?”

“Huh?” he blinked as he snapped out of his reverie. Suddenly he was aware of another warmth near him and looked to see Katara very close to him. Her hip was brushing up against his knee, and he felt warm. He could barely make out her features in the darkness, despite how much his eyes had adjusted, but he knew she was looking at him in concern.

“Are you okay? You kinda zoned out a moment there.”

“Y-yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”

He could see her shake her head ever so slightly and he could almost imagine that fond smile on her face. “I think I was so confused because I’ve been worried I loved two people… Because lately, I’ve been having feelings for someone else.”

“A-and who would that be?” asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt her hand on his knee, and he knew he was gravitating towards her, even as his mind raged in conflict. Hope swelled in his chest like a warm pressure that made it hard to breathe, feeling as if it were going to burst from him, while his brain wouldn’t stop the internal debate.

She couldn’t mean him, could she? Because right now it really seemed like she did. She was leaning towards him and they were so close. But surely, she couldn’t. It was just wishful thinking. He could never be lucky enough for her to love him back. He’d always had to work hard to get anything he actually wanted, and he had intentionally not tried to pursue her, fearing she wouldn’t love him in return. And why would she? It wasn’t all that long ago that she was still shouting and scowling at him. He had hunted her down across the world. He had used her as bait. He had betrayed her trust. Earning her trust back had taken time and taken a lot of work. He’d never thought that she would ever…

His nose brushed her cheek and he felt her breath on his neck as they drew close together. Their hands were intertwined and Katara had moved so close she was one movement away from sitting on his lap. It took all he had to keep breathing. Instead he closed his eyes and nuzzled against the side of her head, breathing in the sweet, salty smell of her ocean swept hair. His other hand came up to tangle in her hair and her breath hitched.

And then his lips were on hers. He wasn’t sure who moved first, all he was aware of was the feel of her. Her soft lips moving against his, her body leaning into him, the softness of the hair gripped in his hands, her fingers tightening around his own, the small gasps and hums that escaped her…

He felt as if he were melting. Burning with desire and the urge to just hold her tighter. He wanted her and he wanted more. He wanted all she could give and he was rocked with the sensation that she wasn’t close enough. With a small growl, he took his hand from hers, wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to him. She gasped as she was dragged into his lap, her body pressing flush up against his. He used this moment to swipe his tongue against her open lip and she shuddered.

She pulled away slightly before peppering his face with kisses and then resting her forehead against his. They were both panting, and he could feel his heart pounding loudly in his chest. She was so warm against him, and his fingers dug into her hips.

“You,” she said breathlessly, placing another kiss to his cheek, just below his eye. “I like you.” She kissed him again. “I think I might love you.”

“Oh, thank Agni!” he groaned, claiming her lips again.

This time he drove the kiss, slowly leaning forwards until he was gently laying her in the sand. Her hair fanned out behind her, and their bodies pressed together. Their lips didn’t leave the other’s the entire time until Zuko dipped down to kiss her cheek and lower still to reach her neck.

“This was not the response I was expecting,” she laughed breathlessly. He nipped at her neck and her laugh ended in a sharp gasp, her body arching up towards him.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you-” Zuko silenced her with a kiss, not wanting to hear what he knew she was going to say.

“I - have had - feelings for you - for - a very - very - long time,” he told her, kissing a new spot on her neck during every pause.

“You - you have?” she panted, managing to plant another kiss on his face.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. He sucked at her ear gently, smirking as she gasped. “It took me a while to figure out,” he whispered in her ear. “But ever since that day in the catacombs at Ba Sing Se, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He nuzzled at her neck, his nose gliding along the soft skin, and he smiled when heard her exhale a shaky breath. “I really couldn’t understand it. I thought I had everything that I wanted. I was home, I had my father’s approval, Mai… But I kept thinking about pretty blue eyes… and your smile… and your laugh.” He gently kissed her lips and looked down to see those large blue eyes staring up at him in awe, gleaming in the darkness. “And when I joined you guys I…”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “for how I treated you. A-after Ba Sing Se I was angry and - and scared that you’d betray us again. Not because it was dangerous, but because of how much it hurt.” She chuckled softly. “You were my enemy, and somehow you got me to care for you in just one conversation.”

“You have a big heart,” he told her gently. “You care for everyone you meet, and you want to help them all. It’s one of the things that make you so amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

“It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He smiled down at her and could feel her pulse speed up.

Katara chuckled. “So, was this all some sort of plan of yours to find out your competition?” she joked.

He grinned. “No, I was just genuinely concerned, but I do have to admit, talking you through your feelings for other people is something I never want to do again.”

She laughed again and leaned up to snatch another kiss. He smiled against her mouth before responding, a hand curing behind her back to pull him closer to her.

“Katara?!” a shout called out across the beach. The two teens froze when Sokka’s voice reached them, their heart hammering in fear and exhilaration. “Zuko?! Hey, you two out there?” There was a pause, and they stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Stay very still,” he warned. Katara gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“It’s kinda getting late… so… If you guys can hear me, you should probably come in now.”

They waited a moment longer before daring to move. Zuko stood up, brushing the sand off himself, and then held a hand out to help her up. He could still barely see her in the darkness, so holding her hand was a comfort he was not about to give up.

“Thank Agni he didn’t see us,” he muttered. “I would not want him to catch me making out with his sister.”

Katara giggled. “You’re probably right, but that would have been funny and frustrating to watch.”

Zuko grimaced. “Come on, your brother’s right. We should head in.”

She laced her fingers more firmly in his, and together they started walking up the beach towards the light of the house. They didn’t say anything. Honestly, after all, they’d said and been through tonight, they didn’t really need to. They could sort through more important things tomorrow. For now, they were content to just walk back to the house together in silence, their fingers intertwined and their shoulders pressed together.

When they entered the light, Zuko glanced down at her from the corner of his eye and saw her doing the same. She quickly looked away again, with a small, shy smile on her face and a light pink dusting her cheeks. It made him smile back, bumblefies fluttering in his stomach, warm and fuzzy. He was incredibly glad that she was standing on his good side, so he was able to see her in perfect clarity.

When they got to the door, however, she reluctantly let go of his hand. “We - we should probably…” She was looking at the ground, not seeming to want to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, probably best for now…” he said gently. Considering how close the battle was, it really wouldn’t do well to upset the balance. It wouldn’t do to have Sokka try to knock him out. And it really wouldn’t do to have Aang upset.

He sighed as he turned the handle and walked into the main room. The others were all gathered around the table, having a quick snack. They all looked up as he and Katara came in, and their eyes widened in surprise. He looked about, worry suddenly gnawing at him because of their expressions. What was wrong? Was… was it obvious that he and Katara had-

“Who’s this?” Sokka suddenly asked, standing and looking on his guard. He was aiming the question at Katara, but he was looking at him.

...Hang on, what?

He turned around and looked at Katara in confusion, then back at the others. Behind him Katara gasped in shock, and he really began to worry. Why was everyone looking at him like he was a stranger?

“What do you mean?” Toph asked. “It’s just Sweetness and Sparky.”

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” He asked, trying to hide the insecurity from his voice. “What? Do I have something on my face?” They all seemed to recognise the sound of his voice, and their eyes widened in shock. Sokka’s mouth actually fell open. “What?!” he demanded in annoyance.

He turned when he felt a soft hand on his arm, and Katara faced him with wide eyes. A tentative hand reached towards him, and he was shocked when she touched his scar, carefully running her hand along his face, her thumb tracing just under his eye.

He looked down at her, seeing her apprehensive expression in disorientating clarity. He was about to ask what she was doing when he was struck by the oddest sensation… sensation. But not just any sensation. He could feel her fingers on his face. Nerve endings that had been dead for three years had suddenly flared to life, and he could feel her touch.

“There’s nothing on your face,” she breathed in disbelief. “Zuko, there is nothing on your face.”

“O...kay?” he said, not entirely sure what was going on. The sudden sensation on his damaged skin and clarity in his bad eye gave him a hint, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Toph asked. “What’s the big deal with him apparently not having something on his face.”

“Toph…” Sokka said slowly. “Zuko has- had a scar on his face.”

“Had?” he breathed, still not daring to believe it.

Toph snorted. “So, what if he had a little scar?” Silence met her words.

“It’s not little…” he eventually said, his voice quiet. He wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing right now.

“It was a huge scar,” Sokka told her. “It covered at least quarter of his face, right around his left eye. Like… here.” He reached out and traced the spot on her face so she would know. “And it was bad. Third-degree burn. Like, his eye was badly impaired, and he didn’t have much range of movement in it. Made him look like he was scowling all the time.”

“I thought he was just scowling all the time,” she joked. Sokka snorted at this, and even Suki giggled. “But… so, what? It just disappeared?”

“Yeah, it has,” Suki said.

The air in Zuko’s lungs left him like he had been hit by a rampaging komodo rhino. A hand reached up to his face. Where there was once rough, bumpy skin, there was now soft, smooth skin. He could not only feel the skin on his face, but he could feel the tips of his fingers touching it. And under his touch, he could feel his muscles moving under the skin as his hairless brow crumpled in confusion and disbelief. His knees felt weak, as if they were going to give out under him.

“But… how?” Aang asked.

“So, who have you been kissing, Zuko?” Sokka asked cheekily.

“What?!” he, Aang and Katara cried out at the same time. He and Katara had stiffened and glanced at each other in worry.

“Well, come on. There’s only one way that scars can just disappear like magic,” he said as if it were obvious. “A kiss from your soulmate. Though, that must have been one supercharged soulmate kiss. It took mum months to heal that scar dad got from a sabertooth sealephant.”

His mouth fell open in shock, then closed again, and then fell open again as he looked helplessly down at Katara. Unsure what to say, or even how to react. Sokka was right. A soulmate’s kiss was the only way to heal scars. And he very vividly recalled her lips repeatedly pressing against his face. She met his gaze with wide blue, startled eyes and pink cheeks.

Sokka looked between the two of them, his eyebrows rising higher as the pieces fell together in his mind. Zuko cringed slightly, waiting for the outburst, waiting for the boy to run at him in an attack for kissing his sister. So, he was shocked when instead a wide grin plastered his face instead.

“Wow,” he grinned. “What do you know?”

“Uh…” He and Katara glanced at each other again, neither of them knowing how to react to the situation. Honestly, they were too stunned by the information themselves. It felt right, but it was still a shock. Still, a lot to realise that the person beside you was always destined to be the love of your life, one way or another - possibly even through multiple lives.

“W-wait, Zuko and… Katara?” Aang asked.

“Going by how hard their hearts are pounding, I am going to say ‘yes’,” Toph smirked. Both of them turned red at the statement and fidgeted nervously. He saw Katara bite her lip and her eyes darted towards Aang, and he knew she was worried about him.

“So, did you two kiss?” Suki pressed, looking like she was enjoying this way too much. “If you don’t answer, we’re just going to take your silence as a yes.”

“Ahh… yes,” he said, reaching behind himself to scratch nervously at his head.

“Oh,” Aang said quietly.

Sokka just smirked. “You know, when you said you were gonna go take care of my sister, I didn’t think you meant like that!”

“Sokka!” Katara cried in mortification.

“What? No!” Zuko cried. “I didn’t- We were just talking! She was upset, and we were just talking about… things, and then- and then, we just kinda…” He snapped his mouth shut before he could dig his hole any more.

“Ah-ha, sure you did, buddy,” Sokka teased.

“Sokka, stop it!”

“What? He’s your soulmate! I’m allowed to tease my baby sister’s soulmate!”

“No, you’re not!”

Zuko shrugged. “It’s okay. Honestly, I thought you were going to freak out… Maybe attack me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You can be a little overprotective sometimes,” Katara told him.

“Well, yeah, if the guy’s an asshole. But this is Zuko! Guy’s an awkward, Firebending teddybear. He’s like Bosco!”

“Hey!”

“What, it’s true. Besides, you got me into a high-security prison, got locked in a freezer overnight, and got tied to a chair by your crazy, knife-wielding ex-girlfriend just to help me rescue my dad and girlfriend. Like, maybe a few months ago I would have freaked out, but you earned my respect pretty quickly. Also, I kinda noticed you making eyes at Katara for weeks now. I was wondering when you were gonna do something about it.”

“Oh yeah, they’ve had some crazy tension since he joined the gang!” Toph said. “I’ve been waiting for them to make out or something for ages! Who would have thought that you’d be soulmates, though?”

“Yeah, you’re really lucky to have found each other.” Everyone’s heads snapped towards the quiet voice, surprised that it was Aang who had said it. He was looking at the table, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He looked sad and his voice was small and quiet, but he was genuine. “The monks said that soulmates are the souls of people whose love is so strong that it spans lifetimes, and the reason they can heal each other is because of that love. They said that… having a soulmate is pretty rare, and finding your soulmate is even rarer. So… I’m glad you found each other. Soulmates shouldn’t be kept apart.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said, just as quietly. He could only imagine how hard it would be to let Katara go, knowing she was supposed to be with someone else. Just the idea of it made his throat tighten, and panic begin to rise in him.

Aang nodded in acknowledgement. “So, ah… how long have you two known? That you were soulmates?”

“Um, just now, actually,” Katara said. “You guys found out the same time we did. I mean, we could barely see anything out there. I didn’t even notice his scar was gone until we got inside.”

“This is so unreal,” he murmured, reaching up to touch the now unscarred skin again.

“Wait, wait, wait. You just found out?!” Sokka said, aghast. They both nodded. “Okay, no! This is unacceptable! Being soulmates is a big thing! You need to be spending time with each other!”

“Ah, Sokka-” Katara tried to say as he came around to them, placed a hand on each of their backs, and led them down the hallway.

“Talking, kissing, other things. Either way, you should be doing something together right now, not hanging out with us! Go! Do… soulmate-y things!” He opened the door to the room Zuko had been sleeping in and shoved them inside. “Just… try to keep it down.” His expression was way too sly as he wagged his eyebrows at them.

“Oh, like you do?” Zuko managed to snark, right before the door was slammed in his face.

“Goodnight!”

“I do not understand your brother,” he sighed, turning back to Katara.

She just shook her head in amusement and sat down. “Time will not help, trust me,” she smirked.

He smiled as he sat down next to her, inclining back on the bed, so he was sitting against the wall. Katara shuffled back, so she was doing the same. “So… soulmates, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”

“Oh yeah,” she grinned. “It totally explains why you chased me across the entire world for half a year.”

“What could I say, I knew what I wanted.” They chucked at the joke. They found that their hands had reached out towards each other, and once again, their fingers intertwined. They smiled softly at one another. “Really, though. I may have been hunting down Aang, but every time we met there was just something about you. Your spirit, your determination… and every time we met you got stronger. You were my enemy, but I respected you.” His thumb stroked across the soft skin of her hand. “And then that day in Ba Sing Se… you opened up to me, and I actually felt like I wanted to open up to you. I’d never really done that before. And then you touched me and I knew there had to be something between us.”

“I knew I had strong feelings for you,” she told him. “But honestly, I originally thought it was loathing.”

Zuko laughed. “I don’t blame you.”

“I wasn’t as mad at you as I pretended to be when you joined us. I mean, I was, but more… more because I was scared than angry. Scared that you were going to hurt me again.” He squeezed her hand, a silent apology for what he had done as guilt gnawed at him. “And then I realised I was starting to have feelings for you, which made it worse. Because if you did something when I liked you, that would hurt even more. Not that I didn’t trust you or anything at that point. I just… I guess I was trying not to let myself fall for you. I always… I kept my distance, partly because I didn’t think you’d like me back, or that nothing would come of it anyway, because you’re the Fire Prince and will probably be Fire Lord one day and I don’t know if you’d even be able to be with a girl who’s just a Water Tribe peasant, and…” She stopped, letting out a deep breath. “And partly because we’re in a war, and I know I usually think on the positive side, but what if something bad did happen. I never let myself love you because what if I do lose you? I couldn’t handle that Zuko.”

He moved closer to her, pulling her into his arms and using one hand to brush her hair soothingly. “We could drive ourselves crazy with ‘what if’s, Katara. There is so much that can go wrong in the battle, and even more, could happen afterwards. It’s going to take the world a good while to fall back into place and find true peace after this war. But we can’t dwell on that. Not now. And if-if something bad does happen to one of us in the next few days… I don’t think it would hurt any less if we were together than if we weren’t. I just want to be with you, no matter what happens.”

Katara nodded, smiling sadly, and rolled over so that she could curl into him. Happily, he drew her closer, fitting her into his side and wrapping his arms around her. It was comforting to feel her warmth pressed against him, and her breath against his collarbone.

“Do-do you, um… Do you want to stay in here tonight? With me?” She looked up at him, and he was quick to correct himself. “We don’t have to do anything. I just meant… this is nice… and I kind of want to keep doing it, if that’s okay with you. Falling asleep with you in my arms is something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

He felt a small smile run through her, and she smiled. “I’d love that,” she said quietly, snuggling in further.

Zuko ran his hand up and down her arm, a smile on his face and pressed a kiss to her hair. “No matter what happens in the next few days… we’ll face it together.”

Author Note:

One thing that I’ve never figured out how to get in there, but would like to point out, is that Katara’s ability to heal large scars much faster than what most expect is because of her healing abilities. Many people in the Northern Water Tribe who have healing abilities also do this with their soulmate.

#avatar #set fire to the rain

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thelastifntdragonrider · 7 years ago

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HI! I’m putting all of the things i’ve been tagged in from the past couple of weeks that i haven’t answered yet bc i’m working hard on an admission portfolio for university and i really want to get into Sheridan, so yep lots of work and lots of art. i am also working on the HTTYD fandom reading (please sign up) and the next chapters of J’Imagine and No Cannon Shall Sink This Ship. Anyways, onto the tagged:

get to know me meme: tagged by @animalsarepeople2 thank youuuu!

nicknames: Kei / Keiko *i explain this in a question down there somewhere

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Libra

MBTI Type: INFJ

Height: 163cm

Time: 17:07 (by the time I finished all of these it’s 18:36)

Birthday: February 25

Favourite Bands: Beatles, Young Rising Sons, Clean Bandits, Lovelyz, Infinite

Favourite Solo Artists: Ailee, Ed Sheeran

Song Stuck in My Head: 1cm by Lovelyz

Last Movie Watched: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Johnny Depp

Last Show Watched: I just binge watched Stranger Things

When I created my blog: July 15, 2013/June 27, 2017

What I post about: httyd, animated movies, animation

Last thing I Googled: information about Sheridan and character rotation

Other blogs I have: my main blog @tokkeiko

Following: 100, though I want to find more good blogs, any recs anyone?

Followers: in total from both blogs, 200 or something

Favourite colour: Green

Average hours of sleep: 8-ish

Lucky number: 7

Instruments: piano, oboe

What I’m wearing: jeans and my current favourite sweater which is grey with gold spots

Number of blankets: I need to remember to find another one bc my room is freezing when I wake up in the morning

Dream Job: story artist at Disney

Dream trip: i just want to get out of my city rn

Favourite food: i’m just hungry rn, give me anything, but favourite food, among others, is salted caramel truffle blizzard from the good old DQ (#lovemydq)

Music ask, tagged by @yv-sketches THANKS!!!!

10 songs that you are listening to right now;

my current favourite playlist is called Shut Up and Dance:

“Elle Me Dit” Mika

“Red Balloon” Charli XCX

“Dancing in the Dark” Rihanna

“Shut Up and Dance” Walk the Moon

“Red and Gold” Young Rising Sons

“Can’t Stop the Feeling” Justin Timberlake

“Better When I’m Dancing” Meghan Trainor

“I Bet My Life” Imagine Dragons

“Into a Fantasy” Alexander Rybak

“Get Back Up Again” Anna Kendrick

Tag Game, taggged by @thepurplewriter333 ty friend-o!

Nicknames: Keiko/Kei/Spirit/Sweet Potato

Gender: Female

Star Sign; Pisces

Height: 163cm

Sexuality: probably straight

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff!!!

Favourite animals: uhhhh... orcas probably

Average hours spent sleeping: 8 i think, i’m not bothering with math rn

Dogs or cats: KITTY, all of my sibilings have a significant other and all of their significant others’ have cats and why can’t I have a s/o with a cat???

number of blankets sleeping: during the winter, aka now already, two

Dream trip: geeeeetttt meeeee ouuuuttt offf thissss citttyyyyy

Dream job: Story artist at Disney

when I made this account: June 27. 2017

why I made this account: bc i wanted a place to reblog all of the httyd stuff without loosing followers on my other blog

# of followers: like 47, I think? I recently got more. follow me i am cool person

92 statements, tagged by @thepurplewriter333 thanks for the double tag!

Last:

Drink: Tim Hortons’ Double Double (got to stay caffeinatedddddddd)

Phone Call: Home to get a ride home

Text message: Friend to go hang out later

Song You Listened To: Shooting Star by Lovelyz

Time You Cried: uhhhhhhhh... oh, like a month ago, it was a bad week and then I watched Home and my emotions were already out of wack so I basically sobbed near the end

Have you:

Dated someone twice: Nope

Kissed someone and regretted it: Nope, i’m boring

Been cheated on: nope

Lost someone special: nope

Been depressed: i feel like it’s hard to be a university student and not get depressed

Gotten drunk and thrown up: i am a boring party person and yeah, no i haven’t

List 3 favourite colours:

Green

Blue

Gold

In the last year have you:

made new friends: Yeahhhh

fallen out of love: nopppeee...?

Laughed until you cried: like every other day

Found someone was talking about you: in a good way; nope. In a bad way: yeah too many times

found out who your friends are: yeahhhhhh

kissed someone on your FB list: okay someday, i’ll have more interesting answers

General:

how many FB friends do you know IRL: 99% of them

Do you have any pets: nope

Do you want to change your name: i recently thought about dropping my middle name, but like it has significance to my parents so probably won’t happen and my middle name doesn’t do anything so idk

what did you do for your last birthday: Keep in mind that I turned 18: my friends and I went to Build-A-Bear and they got me a Build-A-Bear Toothless.

What time do you wake up: my alarms on early days are 7:00, 7:05, 7:15, 7:25, 7:35, 7:45, 8:00. I naturally wake up at 9-ish

What were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping :D

Name something you can’t wait for: to (hopefully) get accepted into Sheridan and start a new adventure out there.

When was the last time you saw your mom: she’s in the kitchen with me

what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i wish that I could’ve figured out what I wanted to do with life so that I could’ve started Sheridan this year

What are you listening to right now: Sheridan portfolio reviews, tips, etc. (Starting to see a pattern here?)

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: friend’s dad. he’s a cool dad.

Something that is getting on your nerves: when people are packing up their stuff before the professor is finished talking in the last 5 minutes of class. URGH stop moving ppl this stuff is important

Most visited website: FB, YT, tumblr

Mole(s): couple

Mark(s): I have freckles (might be moles) on each cheek under both eyes.

Childhood dream: when you’re a kid, you’re really only exposed to teacher, doctor, police man and whatever your parents are. I think I defaulted to an artist when adults asked.

Hair colour: black, I have silver hairs though, they stick out on the black hair a lot

long or short hair: I always grow my hair out and then cut off 12 inches to donate to cancer wigs

Do you have a crush on someone: not currently, though i had a crush on a guy for like 5 years, so even now, 5 years later, I get happy when I think about him

Piercings: no, i really think a conch piercing would be nice though

Blood type: ... A I think, i’ve never gotten tested, but according to genetics, I should be an A

Nicknames: my full name is Keiko, but everyone called me Kei as a kid, but during high school, I started introducing myself as Keiko, so some people call me Kei, some people call me Keiko, one of them is a nickname, depending on which way you think about it,

Relationship Status: Egg salad.

Zodiac: Pisces

Pronouns: She/her

Favourite TV show: Friends

Right or left handed: Right, but recently I’ve been trying to teach myself to draw with my left hand

Surgery: Wisdom teeth

Hair dyed a different colour: nope, but I think I might try a ombre some day

Sports: ballet since I was 4ish, ballet is a sport, come fight me on it if you dare

Vacation: a lot of camping when I was younger, I’ve been to Japan twice, and then places across Canada

Pair of trainers: are we talking about trainers as in shoes? bc then ankle high all black vans.

More General:

Eating: this is taking so long I stopped and had supper between these sections

Drinking: Double Double (Tim’s coffee, two creams, two sugars), gotta stay AWaaaaaaaaaaKE

I’m about to: draw character designs or go out to coffee shop to study with friends

Want: to get into Sheridan so so so so so badly

Get married: I’m still single, want to put my career first, so yep not for a little while

Career: i’m a cake decorator rn, see my cakes on my insta @tanakeiart

Hugs or Kisses: hUG mE

Lips or eyes: Eyes, (though I am supper bad at making eye contact)

Shorter or taller: would be nice to be slightly taller...

Older or younger: like to date or something? I think high school rule is a good rule, but rn looking at niners mAN they are tiny

Nice arms or stomach: arms to hug meeeeee

Sensitive or loud: i think I would need a loud person to compliment me

Hook up or relationship: relationship bc you have a standing plus one to everything and rn being single I have to text like 5 friends to find someone to go with me to something

Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

Have you ever:

kissed a stranger: Nope

Drank hard liquor: I only have like four months until my 19th so like i’ll go drinking then

Lost Glasses/contact lenses: funny story: family and i were in Japan and we were at Kinkaku-ji and then i realize that one of my eyes have gone fuzzy, so thinking that there is something on the lens, i take my glasses off and my lens had fallen out of the frame. my family literally crawled around trying to find my lost lens, we did find it, but we couldn’t find a small screw that would hold the lens in. my dad fixed it with a twist tie.

turned someone down: nobody likes me so nobody has asked me so i have never turned someone down

broken someone’s heart: no

had your heart broken: yeah, by a friend. It is shATTERing

been arrested: not even a parking ticket in my name

cried when someone died: no, i am some kind of emotionless egg

fallen for a friend: my heart easily leaps and often trips falls and gets lost

Do you believe in:

yourself: yes, I believe that I can get in, I believe that I can be what I want to be.

Miracles: I believe in karma more than miracles

Love at first sight: yes, but not in the way that media portrays it

Santa claus: nah

Kiss on the first date: this is weirdly phrased.

other:

current best friend name: becky

Eye colour: brown

Favourite movie: the other day i was procrastinating and made an official list of favourite movies, which still has a lot of ties: 1/2: httyd 1/2, 3/4: moana, big hero 6, 5/6/7: wreck it ralph, tangled, rise of the guardians, 8/9/10: back to the future 1-3

wow that took a lot of time, but thanks for tagging me! I’m tagging @thepurplewriter333 @yv-sketches and @animalsarepeople2 on the ones that you didn’t tag me in! also tagging @katlikespie @crazilexa and @fading-shadows for whichever one/s you want to do!

#long post #but i really didn't want to make four seperate posts #replies #keiko talks to thin air

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cgpaints · 7 years ago

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Monthly Review, June 2017

Hi everyone!

I have been (and still am) a little hesitant to post an monthly review thing this month because to be perfectly honest there just is not much to show as much as actual work is concerned. Most of my freelance work is under NDA and there was not too much time left for personal work and/or studies because as I mentioned last month me and my girlfriend finally moved into our new appartment and have been insanely busy setting everything up.

During the move something happend though, that I wanted to talk about. In a way my thoughts tend to spiral down quickly into the „aaah whats the point -realm“ when it comes to writing these long texts. I was debating myself if I should actually do this privately or if I should write it down and share it publicly but as the thought of sharing it has been spinning around in my head for three days now I figured that I might as well just write it down and try to get it out of my head that way. Maybe this resonates with someone, and maybe someone might even feel motivated to share his/her own views on and experience with this.

The thing I want to talk about is my experience of self worth and how it relates to my work, my attitude towards my work that is in turn resulting from that, maybe even my view on painting and drawing in the widest sense (as it relates to me personaly) and at last about how this might have started to change a little bit during the last few days in particular AND how aaaaaall that relates to the picture at the top of this post.

BUT first things first.

As I already mentioned we moved into a new appartment. It‘s large, it‘s cool, it‘s expensive and thus scary as fuck for a struggling freelancer like me, but that shall not really be the point here, maybe next month once the situation has settled in a little bit.

What‘s important here is that in this new appartment I do have an entire room just for myself, a REAL grown up person‘s office basically. Up until now all I had was a tiny tiny room that I could barely fit a desk in and for the past six months when my girlfriend and I moved around a little bit from Airbnb to Aribnb while she was tryting to get a fulltime office job I did not even have that. A simple desk had to to do during that time.

So now I have this biiig room with more than enough room to have all my drawing and painting supply out at the same time, ready to go whenever I want and it is great!

A few days ago after we got all our stuff into the new place I was sitting in my chair looking aorund the office trying to figure out what to hang on my walls, I just needed something up there, the room was too empty to feel comfortable.

I sat there thinking about all the awesome art from all the different artists I admire that I would like to decorate my walls with but the issue was that I don‘t own any prints not to mention originals here and just printing something out seemed kind of lame.

Being a little bummed out about that I proceeded to go through all my stuff when I found all my marker and watercolor drawings I did last year during „maysketchaday“. I looked through them and I noticed „ hey these are kind of fun!“. Moreover I noticed that they immediately sparked the desire to just grab my markers and get to painting again. I remembered the fun I had trying out a new medium last year and this just got me going. Weirdly enough I did not have this feeling for YEARS. Even during the time I painted these, sure it was kind of enjoyable but it all had this „o well, it‘s a drawing I guess“ feeling to it.

And then something hit me, and this is the thing I want to talk about here.

While feeling kind of excited about getting to drawing right away after rediscovering these tiny things actually feeling good about them I immediately remembered that I used to beat the SHIT out of me „emotionally“ after each one of these, sucking the joy out of the process I have just felt minutes before. I would be bummed out that the drawing did not come out the way I wanted, that I was not improving( which wasn‘t even true) and that I am not even close to anything „all the other artists“ are capable of. I took the drawings, put them in a drawer and would be happy to not have to look at them again.

Remembering all this I kept thinking about it and quickly noticed that I am doing this all the time, I beat myself down after each and every drawing and painting I do. I do this subconciously afer every single drawing I finish. I do this based on the work others do and even based on the response I get from it on social media, stupid shit like that. I am not talking about a healthy mentality that made me realizy my shortcomings and motivated me to do better next time, I am talking about being resentful and downright hateful towards my own work and to be frank to myself as a person.

Thoughts like „ I‘ve been doing this for years now, I should be better“, „others have started drawing later than me and have surpassed me by miles, why am I still so bad at this?“ „is talent actually relevant afteral, or am I simply not intelligent enough to see the flaws and to be able to improve on them?“ were my daily routine. To a degree they still are, I just started conciously noticing this days ago.

I realized what I have been doing this for a period of years and it almost seems comical to me now that I was actually wondering why I was getting kind of depressive and resentful towards my work and myself even. All I do all day is trying to improve my skills with all that I have and after each time I decide to punish myself for that. What is supposed to happen if one keeps that up for years and even turns it into a subconcious routine?

Obviously you stop at least liking what you are doing, hell you might even get scared to do it, which is definitely what I experienced.

It feels a little weird to write this down in a rather short way (although for a simple blog entry this sure looks enormous) because this way of thinking has becomce such a huge part of me.

Measured on the time I spent doing if for the last 10 years I think it is obvious that drawing and painting has been the most important aspect of my life. During that time it has acutally become a part of me. I as a human am defined a lot through it. There just is not much left of me when one takes the drawing and painting aspect away from me, it is not just what I do for work. It‘s another topic to decide if this fact alone is actually good or bad, what I am trying to say is that this thing „painting“ has a lot of power over me. My personal well being as a human is highly dependant on the way I handle my relationship towards painting. If this relationship is compromised by constant self hate and punishment it‘s only obvious that all this bleeds into the rest of my personality. I feel like as a result of all this I have been kind of desolving into this unhealthy spiral of self doubt and resentment towards myself.

Its also another story to go into of when I think all of this has started, all I know for now is that this is something that HAPPENED, it has not been that way from the beginning. At some point something switched and drawing which was this huge and exciting unbeatable but beautiful and POSITIVE mountain of a thing became this dreadful chaotic monster that one can not get a handle on no matter what.

I can‘t really tell why all this dawned on me as soon as I held these drawings of dead people in my hands but it sure did. I also tend to be rather scepticals towards these moments of „revelation“ but I felt this so strongly and clearly at that moment and I still do that I decied to act on it and to ultimately write about it.

I decided to take all of them and hang them on my wall and to just have them there as a reminder that this is actually what I do and that no matter how these turned out these were the best things I could do at that time and that I don‘t have to be ashamed for or angry about them but that I am actually allowed to like them for what they are.

Now are they the best drawings ever? Hell no, they aren‘t even „professional quality“ (whatever that means) and I am not trying to trick myself into thinking that they are. But they are a part of me in some way, I painted them, I gave it my all when I painted them and this is a good thing. They have a right to be pinned on that wall. They remind me where I was a year ago, they show me where I should improve on, they motivate me to do better and they make me want to get to painting as soon as I enter the room. What‘s bad about that?

The impulse to just lock them up in a drawer and hating myself for having created it is so utterly destructive and stupid, sitting here right now writing this makes me realize that even more.

As a matter of fact I came up with a plan out of all of this.

There is still a ton of free space on my walls, I am going to use it. Whenever I paint or draw something that I think turned out okay, or god forbid even „good“ I will pin it on the wall. One day sooner or later the wall will be filled with no room left, that‘s when I will start swapping out drawings one at the time. The new „best“ drawing will replace the current „worst“ one on the wall. I think I will also divide the wall into sections I want to improve upon like „watercolors“ „oilpaintings“ „anatomy“ „design“ and so on. I want this to feel exciting again and I want to actually see my progress rather than just feeling like sinking into a swamp of „o well I hope I am going to end up somewhere sometime“

There it is, I think I poured my heart out, I don‘t really know what to say anymore.

So what‘s the point of this text in addition of just allowing me to sort out my thoughs on that topic?

I think that if you belong to the kind of artists (or people in general) who tend to go down the path of self loathing for trying to do something thats arguably hard to do, no matter if conciously or unconciously you might want to start looking at what you are doing selfhate wise and try to figure out a strategy for yourself to get out of that. As I already said I have been thinking about this for the past week or so so nothing I say is really worthy of being called „founded advice“ or anything like that but there are very personal lessons that I think I am learning right now which feel right and more importantly feel like a good means of proceeding into the future with a healthy mindset to improve and enjoy whatever this all is.

Don‘t be ashamed for what you are doing and incourage yourself like you would incourage a person you care about. Not being the best at something should feel interesting and exciting, it does not mean that you suck as a person. You are your own benchmark, do your best, try to improve on your weaknesses and be thankful for your wins and losses on that path.

Don‘t be an asshole towards yourself!

Talk to you next month!

#art #drawing #painting #illustration #freelance #self help #artist #commcercialart #motivation #depression #encouragement #gameart

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thefoolofdelphi · 7 years ago

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...the world is / a round puddle / of sunless water / where small islands / are only beginning / to cope

[soooo i just found this post in my drafts...from april. so, it’s, um, a bit dated now---and i guess if i never posted it i never really finished it, whoops---but i wanted to post it here for my own archival purposes.]

after a few weeks of owning the amethyst oracle (my first oracle deck) and being unexpectedly at a loss for what to do with it (doing a spread intended for a tarot deck just felt weirdly wrong??), i decided to say fuck it and jump in headfirst. i chose @evviemarin‘s spring equinox spread, which i have been meaning to try out for AGES. figured i’d kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

i’m not sure why i balked at oracle decks for so long, when i first jumped into tarot (almost exactly a year ago, actually) in full-on knowing-fuck-all fool mode. maybe now that i feel as familiar with tarot as i do, i formed an unconscious expectation for myself about how much i should know about something tarot-adjacent. you know, like the way you might get embarrassed if you’re an avid reader who’s never read shakespeare. when you start to develop a consciousness of people other than yourself, and then you start to get self-conscious about how clueless you are.

i guess you really do only get to experience the joy of a fool but once, and more and more rarely as you get older. i’m lucky to have had it, then---who knows when the next time i get a chance to will be. (i wish i were this graceful in parting with innocence and wonder in other areas of life.)

but i digress.

so: oracle decks. they each have their own unique structure, or no structure at all, and the intricate structure of tarot i’d been immersed in for the past year suddenly just didn’t exist anymore, and i was left with no instructions as to how to proceed. (because i am DUMB, i decided it’d be a great idea for my first-ever oracle deck to be one without a booklet!) as i started working with this deck and working out why i’d been so hesitant about it, it started to feel more and more like an excruciatingly obvious metaphor for my life. you know, the terrifying NOTHINGNESS of adult life after living within the gorgeous, intricate, joyful structure of college for 4 years...yeah. that.

(it’s been two fucking years since i graduated. two years! i could have had half a degree by now!)

(i am trying not to think in those pernicious terms, but it’s hard.)

[2 rows of 3 oracle cards each. top row, left-to-right: overwhelm, silence, collection. bottom row, left-to-right: water, confinement, wish.]

so: the spring equinox spread focuses on cycles of death and rebirth, appropriately enough. here are its instructions:

1. Death/Passage: What died for me in the past season? 2. Decay/Fertilizer: How does that passage fertilize what comes next? Next, we consider the perennial, and turn our attention to any old growth due to renew. 3. The Perennial (Rebirth): What renews or rekindles for me now? 4. Tending & Cultivation: How can I best greet and tend to it? Finally, we look above ground to consider the annuals, the unplanted seeds, and our garden plans. 5. The Annual (New Life/Seed): What do I plant next or start afresh? 6. Planning & Plotting: How can I best prepare to make sure that it thrives?

for those of you skipped the diagram, this spread starts from the bottom up. on the ground, in the soil.

for 1 (What died for me in the past season?) and 2 (How does that passage fertilize what comes next?) i pulled water & wish. and i’m smirking a little now, because this whole exercise is starting to feel like a parable. tarot cards have meanings you can look up. of course my readings have never been confined to the meanings other people laid out for me, but i at least had them as a sturdy foundation for my associative leaps to jump off from. they were perfect for a poet who had lost any ability she once had to trust her intuition.

my work with this oracle deck has been very different. i’m finding that i can’t really decode the cards in the same way; if i try to force any kind of concrete meaning out of them, my readings become stilted and trite and totally unhelpful. which makes them harder to talk about, which is probably why this post has been sitting in my drafts for over a month now.

the writing of poetry---not revising, but the writing first drafts parts, the most terrifying parts for me, the putting-something-on-a-blank-page parts---for me at least, means surrender. this is not the only component in writing; if i left everything at first-draft stages, i’d have some pretty shitty, incomprehensible poems. but if i want to start, i sort of have to yield, i have to drop all my preconceptions about what i think i’m writing or want to be writing, and sort of allow the poem to go wherever it wants to. i can’t direct it; i can only follow it, listen as carefully as i can, try not to impose on it too much. you can’t make a poem go where it doesn’t want to go. it’s a bit like a recalcitrant beast that way.

it also requires another kind of surrender: that of the fool. i sort of have to completely drop the concepts of Good and Bad while i’m writing, have to stop believing they exist altogether. so i guess this means giving yourself permission to look like an idiot, to write some really shitty poetry, but typing that out feels nonsensical, because the idea of a shitty poem has no place in the actual making of it, not any more than you’d call an unfinished painting a shitty painting.

(that is a very vulnerable place to go to willingly. that is why i could not get there for two years.)

so. this oracle deck feels like it lives in that place of origins, where nothing makes sense because sense hasn’t been invented yet.

water brought to mind drowning in the context of things that have died for me. water is a p solid image for deaths and rebirths---baptism and all that. and the card wish has dandelion seeds on it, things that need water to grow up out of the earth. so in a very literal sense, water does fertilize what comes next here. it feels like such a hopeful, gentle image---dandelion seeds are fragile and small, but they are seeds, poking up out of the earth, stretching towards the sun again after rain. downpours don’t kill them; they use what water they need for food and they shake off the rest. i also can’t help but think of the audre lorde poem, whenever i think of heavy rain on small things growing:

Coping

It has rained for five days running the world is a round puddle of sunless water where small islands are only beginning to cope a young boy in my garden is bailing out water from his flower patch when I ask him why he tells me young seeds that have not seen sun forget and drown easily.

i’ve always wanted to be the boy in the garden. when i first did that spread, i was in the middle of applying to library school, and i thought maybe being a librarian would be the best way to do that. i thought i absolutely did not want to teach for a living, but it wasn’t because i didn’t like teaching, it was honestly because i think teaching is too important and i wouldn’t be good enough at it. now i am realizing that caring that much about teaching is probably what will make me a halfway decent teacher. (and like any skill, i’m sure, you get better and better the longer you practice it.) and ever since i’ve made up my mind to apply for an mfa (teaching is part of the job---it’s how you pay your way), i’ve noticed that i’ve been thinking about teaching a hundred times more than i ever thought about being a librarian. not that i don’t think librarians are just as important as teachers, but now i am learning there is a difference between believing work is important and having that same work be something i personally want to do, am excited about doing. and, you know, no matter what you do in the humanities, the job market is always shit, trying to find a livable wage will always be a problem. but i think i’m probably better equipped to deal with that problem when i feel like i have a reason to get up in the morning.

confinement, in this time of spring and rebirths and second chances, was an odd card to draw for what renews or rekindles for me now? i wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and to be honest i’m still not. i remembered that this same card was originally called stasis before the amethyst oracle was printed, and what a difference in interpretation that makes! i originally got such a sense of quiet and peace from looking at this card, but the word confinement changes things, makes these little plants seem sinister instead of safe.

perhaps it is the anxiety that comes with making a decision, picking a direction. i start to feel constricted, always afraid that whatever choice i’ve made is the wrong choice, and that i will be Doomed To Failure because of it. a reminder, then, that narrowing is not always a bad thing. sometimes you can go deep instead of wide, and it is just as beautiful, just as worthy.

and silence is meant to be the answer to how can i best greet and tend to it? it meaning the thing that is rekindling, confinement. this card, silence, to me evokes the act of listening. of making yourself very quiet and still so you can best observe your environment, allow it to unfold around you. not silence as a total absence, but quieting one thing so you may amplify another.

the answer to what do i plan next or start fresh? made me laugh: overwhelm. it looks as though all that water, made of everything that has drowned and been carried away, is rising up into a mighty wave. it is time, it seems to be saying, to do, to move, not merely to accumulate. time for something new to upend the old. the sea, unimaginably vast and terrifying and incomprehensible and powerful---is waiting.

and then we return to accumulation in the answer to how can i best prepare to make sure it (overwhelm) thrives?: collection. i can draw on everything i already have, everything i have plucked and culled and gathered and preserved. i have plenty to work with, as long as i can find it all... and i must, as always, continue to collect. take notes. try not to covet, know that eventually everything will be washed away by whatever wave is coming next, but know that i have to pick things up anyway, hold them and examine them and piece them together to form a new whole, over and over, again and again.

#tarot #tarot community #my readings #spring equinox spread #water #wish #confinement #silence #overwhelm #collection #amethyst oracle #oracle decks #long post for ts

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rhovanels · 7 years ago

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Letter for the Chocolate Box fic exchange.

I’m always thrilled to receive anything that someone has created for me, so don’t worry, I’ll be happy with whatever you come up with! Also, please feel free to send me an anonymous ask if you need anything clarified.

General likes:

- mutual pining-happy ending narratives

- I’m equally happy with fluff and angst - don’t feel like you need to hold back on either

- women with various types of strength and agency and power

- sex is absolutely not a requirement for my pairings, and I particularly like sex that’s based in emotion, or is more implied rather than explicit.

- I love plotty dramas, but I equally like quiet, small character moments - go where your muse takes you

- characters who are competent and unapologetic about who they are

- relationships based in communication - talking, challenging and testing one another, wordy declarations of love

- tonally, my favourite emotional register is sad and sweet, but I’m happy with humour and excitement too

- slow burn friends to lovers (although I don’t really expect that for an exchange of this length)

- EPISTOLARY RELATIONSHIPS.

- tropes and general things I like (in no particular order): declarations of love; banter and bickering; one person suddenly realising they’re in love with the other person; huddling for warmth; hurt/comfort; there’s only one bed; ‘holy shit they’re hot in that outfit’; fake dating; bittersweet endings; found families; poetry

Art likes

Honestly, if you’re drawing me something I will probably backflip out the window, because I have no artistic talent and am constantly in awe of what other people produce.

- non-sexual intimacy between characters

- mundane, slice-of-life moments

Dislikes:

- nothing too smutty because I am tame, and no PWP.

- no A/B/O dynamics

- no professor/student (or a similar dynamic) relationships

- no non-con or dub-con

- no character bashing

- no non-canon compliant levels of homophobia, racism, sexism, transphobia

- no abuse (physical or emotion)

Most importantly, have fun - if you’ve enjoyed creating this, I’ll enjoy receiving it.

Onto my specific requests!

A Little Life

God, I love this book. It is the most life-affirming, poignant, utterly devastating book I have ever read and I cannot in good conscience recommend it to anyone, because it seriously messed me up. I will never get over just how much love there is between the characters, and love in all sorts of different shapes and forms (particularly love for Jude).

Jude St. Francis & Harold Stein; Jude St. Francis & Harold Stein & Julia Stein: Found families are my JAM, and this one breaks my heart beautifully. I’d love to see something earlier in their relationship, before or around the time of the adoption. Possible prompts: holiday or celebration - a birthday party, a Christmas (Jude gets a Christmas stocking!!!); Jude reacting to being casually claimed as family in public (I’m crying just thinking about it)

Jude St. Francis & Andy Contractor: The relationship between these two is probably my favourite in the whole book. I’d love something outside of Andy’s examination room, a moment in which the two of them relate to one another as friends first, rather than doctor/patient. Possible prompts: a late night phone conversation; a surprise meeting on the street; aAndy taking Jude somewhere - a gallery, a park, the cinema, etc

Jude St. Francis/Willem Ragnarsson: Show me a missing scene from “The Happy Years”. A slice of life moment, a trip, a momentous occasion - as long as it’s happy. Possible prompts: a surprise airport reunion; a special meal; a third party commenting on how happy they seem together

Jean-Baptiste "JB" Marion & Willem Ragnarsson & Jude St. Francis & Malcolm Young: I’m up for anything with the four of them - again, just show me a happy and cared for Jude. Possible prompts: adventures on the subway; a moment from one of their holidays at Harold’s house

Provenance

Provenance has two of my favourite things in spades - politics and heists. I fell in love with these characters and I’d love to see what happens to them after the events of the novel. I really wanted more resolution in Garal’s storyline than Leckie gave us, so I’d particularly like something that features em. Maybe they all work together to try and reform Compassionate Removal - Ingray and Taucris provide the political backbone, Garal and Tic the street smarts. But really, I’m happy with whatever you come up with, dear author. Just let Garal be happy!

Dragon Age

Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras or Cassandra Pentaghast & Varric Tethras: Oh, I adore the relationship between the two of them, and how it evolves over the course of the games. By the end of Inquisition, there’s such a genuine sense of affection and fondness between the two of them. I’d love anything that explores how much they really care for one another, underneath their banter. If you’re taking a romantic route, I would particularly adore a prickly Cassandra being courted by Varric (maybe it starts as a joke or a bet and then Varric realises he’s in way too deep). Possible prompts: Fake. Dating. If there was ever a pair that was made for this trope, it’s these two; They’re also made for an epistolary romance - Varric’s skill with words meets Cassandra’s careful and hesitant prose; Post-inquisition meeting the family/friends - either Cassandra ends up in Kirkwall, or Varric meets up with Cassandra in Nevarra; Bonding/coming together through their shared faith - I’ve always found it interesting that Varric is Andrastian

Leliana/Cassandra Pentaghast; Leliana & Cassandra Pentaghast: From the opening in Haven to the end of Trespasser, these two (and their trust in one another) are the heart of the Inquisition. Show me the respect these two women have for one another, and why they work so well together. If you’re writing post-Trespasser, I would prefer a world state in which Leliana is Divine. Possible prompts: quiet moments of shared faith; competing against one another in an Inquisition tournament (I’m thinking of that archery competition codex); a post-Trespasser reunion

Female Hawke & Aveline Vallen Female Hawke/Aveline Vallen: I love the “exasperated fondness” dynamic between these two. Show me it in action - maybe Aveline dealing with Hawke’s rash behaviour and having to rescue her time and time again, maybe Hawke rolling her eyes at Aveline’s romantic rituals. Possible prompts: Aveline breaking Hawke out of jail (OR Hawke breaking INTO jail to get rescued by Aveline); arguing while camping; a Wintersend gift exchange (this could be sweet or could be utterly hilarious, your call)

Isabela/Josephine Montilyet: I don’t have much for these two beyond that I think they’d have a fascinating dynamic, so I’d love to see it explored in any shape or form. But maybe with pirates. Possible prompts: a dangerous trade agreement; masked encounters with a final reveal

Dorian Pavus/Solas: Remember that time Varric told Dorian that “just because two people dislike each other doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler”? Varric, you have never been more wrong about anything in your life. This is my current rarepair and I am dying, and I will take basically anything with them - enemies to lovers, bickering and sexual tension, established relationship fluff, even Trespasser angst - whatever takes your fancy. My only request is that they’re equals in their relationship - no d/s or mentor/student-esque dynamics, please. Possible prompts: Being sent out alone together solve a magic problem by the Inquisitor and realising they may have misjudged the other; One of them leaps to the other’s defence when that person isn’t around, but then they find out about it later (or overhear); I have no idea how you’d get fake dating to work with these two, but if you can think of something, I would eat it up with a spoon

Dorian Pavus/Iron Bull: I spent a lot of time in Inquisition wandering around trying to trigger this pairing and it never happened for me. I like them together, but it's never been a huge ship for me. So this isn't so much as a prompt as a challenge: convince me, convert me, make me fall in all-consuming love with this relationship.

Black Sails

If it’s not clear from the pairings I’ve chosen, I love Charles Vane more than life itself. He’s dramatic, reckless, a total trash bag, but his heart is ultimately in the right place.

Anne Bonny/"Calico" Jack Rackham/Charles Vane (Black Sails): Oh, these three. Their bond is volatile and fraught, but it’s eternal. I’d be really interested to see some of the history between them - adventures on the Ranger, etc. I particularly like their dynamic as a found family.

"Calico" Jack Rackham/Charles Vane (Black Sails): For someone who grew up as an indentured child labourer, Vane has a weirdly poetic way with words. Perhaps everyone's favourite dandy had a part to play here? Maybe Jack woos an oblivious Vane, maybe he teaches him poetry and then Vane uses it on him, maybe there's an epistolary romance?

Captain Flint/Charles Vane (Black Sails): I’m fascinated with the way that Vane always leaps to Flint’s defence - first at Charlestown, then again in the duel with Teach. Show me why Vane is so determined to protect him.

Eleanor Guthrie/Charles Vane (Black Sails): They really have a tragic romance, and I’d love to see anything that explores two people who can’t live with or without one another (although a fix-it is always welcome too).

Also, if anyone wanted to make me a space AU (i.e. they’re captains of spaceships) I would probably die of happiness, but it is absolutely not required.

Star Trek: Discovery

My favourite thing about Disco was the science, which puts me in a little niche, I know. But basically I’m all about people being good at what they do, about people learning how to see and to respect one another’s skills and competence. In space! Show me some scenes with these characters working together to solve problems and learning from one another. Bonus points if there’s a time loop, because that episode was a damn masterpiece.

OH MY GOD, author, I don’t know if you’re up to date, but the big reveals of the mid-season return have BLOWN MY MIND and I would adore something from this part of the season. I’ve included some ideas under “Mirror prompts”.

Michael Burnham & Paul Stamets: Science bros! I love dynamics in which prickly professional distrust turns into mutual respect and admiration, and these two fit the bill perfectly. Possible prompts: moments in which they’ve realised they’ve misjudged the other; geeking out about science together

Michael Burnham & Saru: I find their relationship fascinating. It’s always been prickly, filled with jealously and competition and distrust. But there’s a genuine sense of care in there too. I’d particularly like to see something more positive between the two of them, a moment of forgiveness or healing (not complete of course, it’s not that simple, but a step on the road). Possible prompts: a rescue scenario; a shared moment of empathy (particularly for non-human life - I love Burnham’s empathy for the Tardigrade and Saru’s for the Pahvans)

Michael Burnham & Sylvia Tilly: I really love the development of their friendship, from awkward and prickly to a genuine sense of respect and mentorship. Possible prompts: Tilly teaching Burnham something (a hobby or a game, perhaps); a future story in which Tilly makes captain. Mirror prompts: a showdown between captains!

Sylvia Tilly & Paul Stamets: Another dynamic I love! Like Burnham and Stamets, I love prickly professional relationships that hide a stronger sense of care. Prompts: Stamets defends Tilly against a third party; general science geekery; a discovering a shared passion or hobby. Mirror prompts: a hurt/comfort scenario

Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets: God bless Disco for giving us such a strong queer relationship. I love their gentle bickering, I love their mutual respect, I adore queer love in space! Possible prompts: an off-ship date (or an on-ship one); Stamets trying to set up the best possible date within a time-loop; talking while dancing. Mirror prompts: break my heart, dear author.

Gabriel Lorca & Ash Tyler: I really loved their dynamic while fighting their way out of the Klingon ship, and I’d love to see some more action scenes with them. Possible prompts: competition in the battle simulator; a regular shared workout; they get stuck in a lift and have to break their way out.

Sylvia Tilly & Ash Tyler: I love how Tilly’s natural openness and empathy meets Tyler’s reserve. I like friendships with a talkative and taciturn pair! I feel they have a lot of common ground between them, such as their shared sense of doubt and inadequacy. Possible prompts: doing laps of the Discovery together; party planning (possibly a surprise for Burnham); a regular shared meal date. Mirror prompts: shared fears over becoming the enemy (argh, this show is going to BREAK MY HEART)

A note on Tyler: references to his PTSD are fine if they fit into the story naturally, but please keep the details vague, and no reference to rape.

Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Amilyn Holdo & Leia Organa; Amilyn Holdo/Leia Organa: That exchange between the two of them (“May the Force be with you, always”) made me think that this is something they’ve said to one another many times before. Show me one of these times - maybe a daring mission, maybe a formal farewell, maybe a quiet moment.

Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker: There is nothing quite as unconditional as the relationship between twins, and I don’t think the films do enough with it. I’d love to see something that explores this further, particularly in their later years.

Paige Tico & Rose Tico: Again, I adore strong sibling relationships. Show me how these two relate to one another as sisters - all the love and jealousy and bickering and utter devotion that goes with the territory. I’d prefer if this wasn’t a fix-it - I’m happy for it to be a bit bittersweet and sad. Possible prompts: Paige teasing Rose about her hero-worship of the young pin-ups of the Resistance; shared love of animals; quiet midnight conversations

Poe Dameron/Finn: Honestly, I just want the tropiest, most romantic thing you can throw at me. Fake dating? There’s only one bed what do? Holy shit you look hot in that outfit? A now or never kiss? Mutual pining-happy ending? Go wild, dear author.

Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey; Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey/Rose: The dream teams! There is so much potential with these pairings, and the films will never follow through because cinema is allergic to polyamory. I don't mind how you choose to interpret the dynamics of the poly relationship, but I'd prefer if sex wasn't the focus. Possible prompts: a card game; solving a problem that involves each of their individual strengths

Horizon Zero Dawn

Aloy/Talanah: I LOVE THIS SHIP. Show me these two badass women being awesome together. Maybe how they reform the politics of the Hunters Lodge, or Aloy taking Talanah with her to meet the Nora, or anything from a wild hunt adventure to a quieter moment between them.

Aloy/Vanasha; Aloy & Vanasha: "I don't think I know you at all. But I'd like to." Aaaand I screamed and backflipped out the window. I am a sucker for spies and intrigue and politics, and for relationships that develop with two people dancing around one another and trying to see through each other's performative surfaces. This pairing has so much potential. Possible prompts include: undercover as lovers (!!!), a masked encounter, talking while dancing.

Aloy & Erend: Aloy and Erend's friendship ended up being surprisingly moving - although I see it as strictly platonic. Show me some lighter moments with the two of them - maybe they get drunk together, maybe Erend finally shows her around Meridian, maybe Aloy takes Erend back to her homeland.

Aloy & Rost: Oh, these two broke my heart. I'd like to see some exploration of their dynamic when Aloy is older (i.e. around the time of the game), rather than a child Aloy. This could be set post-game - maybe one of Aloy's visits to his grave - but I would also be 100% happy with a fix-it if that's where your muse takes you.

Aloy/Nil: This is my trash ship and I kind of hate myself for being into it, but oh boy am I into it. Possible prompts include: they have a standing date once or twice a year; a prison break; continually encountering one another while on missions/travelling.

#chocolate box fic exchange

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