#i live in hope that it might be revived someday.

[protectorcraft]

fortuna..... fortunaaaaa.... 4tuna i miss you..... for tuna.....

[drinkthemlock]

translation of one of álvares’ 1850 letters to luís->

Under the cut because it is long.

Rio, March 1st 1850

My Luís:

I received a letter of yours written down in Rio Grande [do Sul] just as you’d arrived. You told me about a letter in the mail through another one you’d written to my cousin. I looked there and did not find it.

You will not go to São Paulo with me, then. My two years spent there were a trial[1]: my consolation was hoping (ah! what fickle hope it was, gone so easily!) to live there with you…

Luís, there is a certain something in my heart that tells me that everything might be over between us. Could it be a lie, one of those drops of bitter bile that drench the brain like an insanity? — or an anticipation — grim yet truthful, like the petrel’s first call at the beginning of the storm?

Perhaps it’s all over. My friendship, Luís, may have to yet again live off my past of two years of longing. Longing! It expresses the pain of separation, the desire to see each other again, perhaps the remains of a light of hope for a better dawn… does it not, Luís?

I have not spent this vacation in idleness, on the contrary, it has been spent in reading. In this small period of three months I have written a two-hundred or so page novel; two poems, one in five and another in two cantos; an analysis of Musset’s Jacques Rolla[2]; some quite voluminous literary studies about the simultaneous march of civilization and poetry in Portugal[3]; and a poetic fragment in very antiquated language, harder to understand than Sextilhas do Frei Antão[4], though in a different taste, more in the manner of Chatterton’s Th. Rowley.

Against this agitation of spirit, sometimes I am overcome by an invincible paralysis, those hours that mariners fear, in which stillness befalls the dead sea, and the sails fall along the masts. I have always and always spoken to you with my hand on my heart: if someday I died young, in my fever of ambitious hopes, if — poor poet’s imagination! — the ice of death dripped down my brain, there is still, in some of my letters to you, an entire story of two years, a legend, painful, yes, but true, very true, in its iron torment, like an autopsy of sufferings.

Luís, it is my fate to love so much and have no one love me. — There is the irony in my somber disheartening, in my not believing against others’ believing. They call me cold, they believe that egoism and pride have frozen my… nectar, called soul, from that damned amphora called life!

Yesterday I was at a soirée. Nothing there, as usual, amused me. When the boredom comes from the inside, there is no smiling at balls that can sweeten it. When the sorrow is deep and lonesome, when one’s heart has gone dry, there is no fiery bath from a look that can revive it!

Still at times – and today, in my solitude, that is my venture – when the mind drenches me in the drunkenness of an obsession, when my soul is visited by the dreams of a man that does not sleep, that people call poetry, still I feel my chest reopening to the love of women. It seems that if that beauty of black hair and eyes, ample bosom, on top of which [her hair] floats, untied, with her long and soft fingers, the silk [ribbons] of that robe… if I rested this fever of the head that aches in me there, this burning of a mind that drowns me, I could still have enough life in me to make her swoon in the ecstasy of a spasm, to die there in the frenzy of a dream of kisses… And when, before a blonde’s pale forms, in the limpidity of some eyes, transparent and blue as the sea, I see what there is of purity, what there is of golden sands under those waves’ diaphanous polish, then, as Goethe’s Faust in Margarete’s bed, there are some magnetic waves that’ll revive the dead palpitating of my fibers within me, oh! So I wait still…

But, in general, what still awakens in me, at times, the most tepid pulsating of the blood is the voluptuousness that I catch a glimpse of in women full of charms, those that seem to have been made by God to be like statues at whose feet one may pray, may ask them, like the lascivious Venus, for an hour – one only – of pleasure…

These are dreams— dreams… Luís! It is madness to so overly open the heart’s angel’s wings to these ravishing breezes that, in the afternoon, come whispering of rapture, so impregnated with aromas of kisses! It is madness! And yet, when a man lives only off of them, when all the doors have been closed to the reject, why not go knocking, alone at night, at the palace of the fairy of imaginations?

There is only one thing that could provide me the vigor that dies within me. “Dies within me…” said I; do not think that I am lying. Everyone here finds the morose living and the weight of the distraction that haunt me this year strange. My solitary living, closed off in my room, more often than not reading without reading, writing without seeing what I’m writing, brooding without knowing what about– perhaps some furtive tear has rolled down the face of my Mother… poor Mother! – is it not so, my Luís? Poor (don’t you think) are those that watch their son droop and wither, pale like the sound of that somber music which only he can hear!

I say: there is only one thing that can provide me the vigor that falters within me: a woman whom I loved.

Behold, then, everything— love, poetry. I only didn’t tell you of glory. Nor will I. You would laugh at it and at me, as I laugh as well. Glory! In our land! Oh white, fragrant swans of heaven’s vapors, why descend upon the impure swamp, staining the whitenesses, forfeiting the aromas? To the birds of the clouds,— the sky; to the poets— dreams. Glories of the land? Don’t you remember Dante, Chatterton, Byron? Don’t you remember Werner, poet, and a grand one too, dead of skepticism and desolation under his orgy’s garland? Glories of the land!… the applause of the rabble! Rotten laurels, most often drenched in blood, speckled with the scum of insult and the slime of envy…

Goodbye, my Luís. The beauty of spiritualism is the love between souls, this tune that makes them palpitate in unison even in separation, even when the senses that bind us to matter no longer touch the object which we love. Goodbye. Just as I love you, love me. Do not forget it among your Rio Grande meadows, to the sound of the laughter from rosy lips that unveil pearls of your beautiful countrywomen’s.

Your friend:

–Azevedo

[PS:] I tried rereading my letter to amend any error that might’ve slipped at the march of the quill, but I found it so long I lacked the will to do so. Moreover my handwriting came out so poorly that I can barely understand it. If you cannot understand it as well, chuck this piece of paper into the fire. You will lose little or nothing in doing so. It will be a lost quarter of an hour less.

On the first of April I’ll leave for São Paulo.

[1] Álvares wrote this letter during his summer vacation after his second year at the Faculdade de Direito do Largo de São Francisco, in São Paulo. He met Luís while they both were students at the Colégio Pedro II in Rio de Janeiro, the city in which Álvares was raised since he was a baby (despite having been born in São Paulo). They parted ways when Álvares went to São Paulo in 1848 to study law.

[2] Álvares was a big Musset fan, and you can read (in Portuguese) the analysis he refers to here (1873 edition, pg. 123). Also, an interesting article about suicide in this critical essay here.

[3] Available at the same link as above (1873 edit., pg. 171)

[4] Second volume of poetry by Gonçalves Dias, one of the most famous first-generation Brazilian Romantics, which (like all of Álvares’ works) are in the public domain and can be read here.

[authortobenamedlater]

ATBNL’S AU MASTER POST

Because I am the master of AUs.

Got a major case of brain fog and couch lock today and went into my drafts to finish this FINALLY.

I will take asks and DMs about anything here. By which I mean I am begging for asks and DMs about anything here 😆

Star Trek AOS

The Pike-April Family Business: My oldest AU and the one with the least to show for it. This was the first AU in which I became really invested. I tried to revive it on AO3 a few years ago and just couldn’t get it going. I hope to one day find a way back to it. The older stories are still on my FFN.

I have tons of headcanons for this that have never seen the light of day and might not unless I get asks about them.

Tagged “pafb au”

Star Wars

Mandalore’s Reluctant Royals: Canon divergence from Mandalorian S2 finale. Bo-Katan comes up with a solution to the Darksaber problem that may be more than she or Din bargained for. A political “marriage” that eventually turns into the real thing.

I had a whole timeline and several WIPs and ideas for this AU most of which got lost when my computer crashed in May 2022. The series will never be what I envisioned, but I still love it and think about it a lot.

Tagged “mandalore’s reluctant royals”

Untitled ROTS Fix-It: A Winter Soldier-inspired AU that came from me looking at Sebastian Stan and Hayden Christensen’s similarly wild hair and “haha Samuel L. Jackson.” Someday I might do something with it, but it’s just been turning over in my head for about seven years. Couldn’t even think of a good image for it.

Tagged “rots mcu au” for want of anything better

Halo (TV)

Vital Record (Angel-117 on AO3): The fallout from Everyone’s Favorite Scene(tm) is S01E08. Starts from the eponymous fic and branches off into several AU possibilities. Canon divergence from S01E09.

This one lives mostly in headcanons on Tumblr as I have too many ideas for it to make anything cohesive 😂

Tagged “vital record au”

Halo (game)

(I wish I could get a grown-up picture of them.)

Married...With a Supercarrier: Get in loser, we’re going down the highway to rarepair hell. Chyler doesn’t die in Forward Unto Dawn and she and Lasky get their happy ending with the occasional lovers’ quarrel.

Tagged "married with a supercarrier au"

NCIS: Reach: Grew from a seemingly inconsequential crossover for International Fanworks Day 2023. I ended up finding these universes fit each other well and really enjoying the concept, though I haven’t written anything else for it (yet).

The first fic can work for game or TV Halo, but the rest of the AU would be game-verse if I continued it.

Tagged “ncis reach au”

For Such a Time As This: An epic crossover that will almost surely never be finished entirely, taking off from some point in Spartan Ops. Infinity gets dropped like a rock into the Babylon 5 world. Halsey escapes and gets loose on the station and basically causes the Shadow War and all kinds of other problems.

I do not have the time or talent to pull this off and changing anything about the B5 storyline feels like sacrilege to me 😂 but I still enjoy playing with this AU.

Tagged “for such a time as this au”

[veggieguy23-me]

I couldn’t sleep, started thinking about totk again.

what happened to the sheikah tech? Well, what if they literally faded away? Like all the tech was under a stasis effect for 10000 years, which broke when ganon was defeated. And like the shrine monks, it all blew away in green smoke. then another thought hit me, how would Zelda react to that? Losing her family, friends, kingdom, and then her main interest? And then I wrote an outline. I’m not even a writer how did that happen?

Immediatly after the calamity

The master sword is returned to the pedestal in the lost woods to rest. It’s work finished hopefully for good. 

The spirits of the king, mipha, daruk, revali, and urbosa pass on. 

The divine beasts go inert.

After a 2 month recovery period, link and Zelda begin to investigate the divine beasts, starting with vah rudania. 

However, try as she might Zelda simply cannot figure out what’s wrong with it. With any of them! She even attempts to have yunobo activate the beast, which doesn’t work (doing wonders for poor yunobo’s self esteem). The bronze stone alloy the divine beasts, and in fact all ancient sheikah technology are made of has started to turn grey. 

Then it get worse. 3 months later the shrines and towers, once blue, maybe orange, shut down. Zelda is beginning to worry, as she frantically tries everything she can think of to try and revive the technology, hindered when the shiekah slate itself one day shuts down. The technology slowly deteriorates until one day, half a year since the the defeat of the calamity, the technology, the beasts, the shrines, the towers, simply fade away in a matter link notices similar to the monks link had met in the shrines. 

Zelda is inconsolable. She hardly ever leaves links house. She won’t eat. Link is worried. He tries anything he can think of to lift her spirits, one day he packs their things and drags Zelda to Faron to see the zonai ruins. And suddenly Zelda is alive again. Something to research! Something new! 

She throws herself entirely into this new topic, and it’s like nothing had ever happened. 

1 year after the calamity, a blood moon occurs. The people hold their breath but ganon himself doesn’t return, simply his monsters. The blood moon itself had long proven itself an annual routine, long before the calamity, easily dealt with by the royal army, but it’s frequency hadincreased to (idk let’s say) once every three full moons. (Weee headcanons! But I mean like, ganon wasn’t truly dead was he? That was just a bunch of sentient gloom/malice that leaked from rauru’s seal. Makes sense the blood moon would plague the land long before calamity ganon attacked.)

However, where before the destruction of the royal army combined with the greater frequency of the moon meant that hyrule never had a chance to try and get ahead of the problem, this time was different. In response to the reappearance of monsters a new group is formed, aptly naming themselves the monster hunters. Three squads of brave hyruleans willing to risk their lives to prevent the monsters from retaking hyrule. 

Link joins them, being the greatest soldier in all the land, and while he visits Zelda constanly his absence from day to day life lead the people of hateno village to forget his face. 

Speaking of Zelda, she has not been idle. The blood moon showed her something too, that the cycle of calamity is not finished, someday ganon will return. With no sheikah technology to aid them, Zelda fears how the next generation will fare. In an attempt to find anything she can leave to that future generation, Zelda founds the zonai research team, to investigate the ruins, research the zonai, in hopes of maybe discovering something useful (of course she also just plain wanted to do that anyway, the moon simply gave her the “selfless” motive)

The children of hateno village are starstruck by her passion and speeches, and Zelda finds herself lecturing to just as many children as scholars. So Zelda hires the newly renamed Hudson construction, Bolton having retired, to build a schoolhouse for the children. 

Meanwhile Purah and Robbie haven’t been idle. 4 years after the calamity they present Zelda with a prototype of something they’re calling “The Purah pad”, a name which Robbie seems reluctant to commit to. 

Right now it only has the camera, but Purah promises one day it’ll have map functionality, as well as teleportation! 

Purah just needs to set up relay towers to provide it with the topographical map data.

Having done such a good job with the schoolhouse, zelda reccomends Hudson construction, who begins work on them straight away. 

5 years have passed. Half of the “skyview towers” as Purah is calling them, have been built. Zelda wishes to begin resettling central hyrule, and once again hires Hudson construction to rebuild castle town itself. 

They begin by setting up a base around the old sacred grounds ruins, surrounding the remains of a secret hidden passage that Zelda is able to unlock. They call it lookout landing. Purah opts to move there herself, in order to more efficently survey they construction of her towers from a more, central, locale. 

6 years since the calamity. Hudson construction workers in castle town are falling Ill. The cause seems to be a strange airborne fog reminiscent of the malice of calamity ganon, emanating from caverns under hyrule castle, ones that Zelda’s father had said had been forbidden since before the castle itself had even been built. 

Acting on a hunch, link and Zelda reclaim the master sword from the lost woods, and set off for the caverns underneath hyrule castle. 

[seymourssecondchance]

Entry Two; March 25th, 2024

I was asked to make a list of materials, supplies, personal belongings and a few other things that I’m still writing down on a separate tablet at the moment as the Cams and TVs want to help me get more comfortable and have things to do without going insane while the war goes on. The Science teams are starting to let me help them but not work directly with those going on field, since they’re respecting the request of the fighters and Titans. I have learned that my team has either died or augmented to avoid getting infected after I made them leave the Houston NASA labs. Cathy ‘Yang’ Archer, Dave ‘Sol’ Aries, Dalton ‘Atom’ Smith were my team members and the closest thing to a family since my parents died during my 3rd year in college, that year was rough honestly and most elves live incredibly long lives but my father wasn’t an elf but human. Mom was an elf and she was fighting an aggressive cancer and my dad was killed in a freak accident. I really wish I was able to say goodbye in person since it was so sudden. The last thing I said to them both was ‘See you later, I love you’. Hopefully the cemetery has been untouched by the war. From what I’ve heard, Cathy is an Elite Camera fighter, which I might have spoken to her without realizing it which kinda hurts now that I think about it, does she remember me? Dave died trying to protect Dalton and Cathy during their augmentation. Dalton goes by Atom now at this point and has been directly interacting with me whenever he can since he’s often on and off the battlefields, he has mentioned that they both have gone under more augmentations during the first year and are completely Tech now which hurts to hear but if they can live better without risking their perma-deaths than I’ll have to adjust to that.  I did talk to Galaxy again after they disappeared into the blue after Yin and Rave were revived and mostly able to walk around without  assistance from others. They seem on guard before dropping the bomb that they have been actively hunting down the Agent since Yin and Rave’s death (February 13th, god it’s been over a month and the duo are still struggling with being alive). Galaxy, or Gala I have been given permission to call them, wants me to make a different list of everything that happened from what I can remember, which is a bit too much to be honest but will help them, to allow them to better track the Agent down. Rave has warmed up to me after I gave him a few different music pieces to listen to too, Yin is still standoffish with me which I’m fine with, I just hope that he won’t try to poison me again. I am truly impressed by how far my creations have been able to hold out and fight back. They’re my family now, even if they don’t know it yet… Someday things will be better and safe again. - Dr. Seymour

[bumblebeerror]

I will scream it literally forever: 9/11 RUINED COUNTRY MUSIC.

You think travelling soldier was about patriotism? You think The [Dixie] Chicks and Dolly Parton and Woody Guthrie and Hank Williams Jr all sang about conservatism?? You think Amarillo Sky was about how great living off government subsidies and having little to no healthcare is? Where the Green Grass Grows was about how great it is to be a 9-5 zombie hoping you might retire someday? You think Creedence Clearwater Revival or John Mellencamp or Tom Petty were conservative??

Jingle country took hold after 9/11 because people were scared and the government was doing fucked up shit and artists that rode that throbbing patriotism cock and sang barely skin deep songs about love instead of inciting anthems about the shit that’s fucked up got praise and love and loads of fucking money, while artists who told the truth as they saw it were hushed. When was the last time a country music station talked about Willie Nelson, Hank Williams and Hank jr, Tanya Tucker, Merle Haggard, Johnny Paycheck? I haven’t heard The Devil Went Down To Georgia by Charlie Daniels on my local radio in at least a decade. I’ve not heard Johnny Cash in at least 5, and even before that for how fucking famous they were, they were sparse at BEST on local listening and almost never were their more controversial, commentary songs played.

They all had songs about social issues, real ones, ones that actually effected rural Americans. Ones that Mattered. But you see, criticizing the government went right back to red scare levels of suspicion after 2001, and it was the death of your career until EXTREMELY recently. The Chicks are one of the few exceptions when they wrote March, March in 2020 following the massive riots against police brutality - but they were STILL hushed from the media for their politics right after 2001 and still are now. They released an entire album called Gaslighter that had March, March in it and I bet you most people can’t name a single other song in that album, myself included.

The kids on TikTok think that just because he was a classic country singer, Johnny Cash was conservative??? My babies he covered a Nine Inch Nails song in his seventies.

Classic country singers (the majority of which came from poor roots) were always talking about how much The Man sucked because they were taking money from poor rural folk. You’re gonna tell me that’s conservative?? Get outta here.

[i-am-the-prettiest-boy]

Hi so I wrote a poem ages ago and it's not great but my friend said she really liked it and then she ended up moving away so here it is.

Death by Star★

The bravest left,

The bravest fought,

The bravest died with

The bravest thoughts

Do you believe there is love after death?

A place you go?

To live in the heart,

Of someone you know?

Do you believe in life after death?

I'm not talking about being revived,

Some people try,

It doesn't always work,

But someday it might,

If the people reviving have enough love for the one who is dead,

Then maybe the dead one may lift their head,

From their bed on the astro where they had fallen,

Maybe they only woke up because somebody called for them,

But imagine how heartbreaking that must feel,

To have to kneel

Over the corpse so cold and limp,

Only to find that you're not the prince,

But maybe it turned out that the prince was you,

After all,

you found the shoe,

Or maybe the prince was no-one at all,

Maybe their 'death' was simply a fall,

And maybe the person lying dead is me,

If it is,

Please,

Set me free

So uh yeah I hope you like it and I'll probably post more poems on here soon

[hangezoeenthusiast]

You failed me

multiple x gn!reader

word count: 2,524

warnings: cursing, yelling, arguing, death, angst, blood, explosion, the egg (it deserves its own warning)

synopis: you guys failed me(us)

(the lyrics go with each person, might not get everyone, and also xd’s part is kinda wonky)

song: rät by penelope scott

I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology, high quality, complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything, just like a daddy should

Quackity, Karl, George, and Sapnap left you. Your mentors, your friends. The ones who taught you everything you knew. They went to build their little “Kinoko Kingdom” while you stayed in the ruins, the dust. “They’ll regret that.” you swore. You built something better, something greater.

It was called “Las Nevadas”. A place where everyone was allowed. They would remember not to fuck with you. They would soon realize that they should watch their back for the rest of their short, stupid lives.

“Watch out, you guys, I'm watching your every move.”

And you were beautiful and vulnerable and power and success God damn, I fell for you, your flamethrowers, your tunnels, and your tech I studied code because I wanted to do something great like you And the real tragеdy is half of it was true

Wilbur majorly fucked up. He was supposed to be with you to the end, your guys’ country, right? No. He left you behind. He went to find peace, find his heaven, while you stayed on earth, wallowing away until your flesh seeped off your rattling bones, rotting away by yourself, with no one to bare witness.

“Why didn’t you bring me with you Wilbur?” you asked his stupid grave on top of the once L’Manburg. “Why did you get the ecstasy, why do I get the remains?”

“I’m coming for you Wilbur, and when I do, we are going to wreck upon justice on everyone who wronged us, wronged you, they will feel our wrath.”

But we've been fuckin' mеan, we're elitist, we're as flawed as any church And this faux-rad West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I trusted you, it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fuckin' train

"Y/n!" Technoblade yelled. "I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU BETRAYED ME, FOR WHAT, TO BLOW UP A STUPID COUNTRY, A COUNTRY THAT WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START." He started to battle you, missing every single swing, blinded by fury.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE.”

"LOOK AT ME GODDAMN IT."

You looked up at him in the eyes and boldly said, "No, Techno, don’t you see, you’re in the wrong here, you’re the one who betrayed me." You were blinded by friendship, you couldn’t see that Tommy had betrayed Techno, and that what the Butcher Army did to Techno was terrible.

"What do you mean Y/n, you know what they did, they wronged me, they used me, they tortured me, they gave me hell, so I gave it back to them, I destroyed the things they loved, the people they loved, you see Y/n, those who have treated me with kindness I will repay that kindness tenfold, and those who treat me with injustice, that use me, that hunt me down, that hurt my friends, I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over, do you understand?"

"No I don't, Techno, you can't do this.” you begged. He pushed you out of the way, "Get out of my way Y/n." “No, I won’t, I won’t let you destroy everything we worked for.”

“Well, then I have to fight you.”

And thus the battle began, Swords clashing against each other, blood spilling from open wounds, friends digging each other into a whole both of them couldn’t get out of. Techno was letting you off easy, he knew his strength, he knew that he could’ve beaten you in one swipe, but he didn’t want to kill you.

So when you had the opportunity, you swept from under his feet, and knocked him down. You placed your blade onto his neck, pressing down until a little drop of blood appeared, “Stay down Technoblade, or I’ll do something worse than try to put you on trial.”

He watched as you walked away from him, trying to save L’Manberg from a worst fate than death itself.

“One day Y/n, you’ll see, I’m on your side.”

I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I feel so stupid, and so used I feel so used

"Why would you do that Dream? You didn't have to do that." you interrogated. Dream had stupidly blew up the community house. You both didn't plan that, he had gone behind your back. "I had to Y/n, you wouldn't understand."

"What do you mean I don't understand, you went against my back, we were supposed to-" you cut off yourself, "Dream, don't you understand, you did something stupid, and what did you get, you got stupid jail." "The reason I did that is because I needed to isolate myself from humanity." he said, proudness lacing his words.

"What do you mean?" you questioned. "If anyone knows I can revive people, I'm screwed, so that's why I need to be by myself, yeah it sucks major ass, but at least no one else will know, well, besides you anyways." "I have a task for you Y/n/n, I need you to find a way to bring Tommy and Ghostbur in here."

"Why Dream?"

"I'm going to revive Wilbur."

I was your baby, your firstborn, the hot girl in your comp-sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream, bred, born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards, rocket ships, pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are

"PHILZA MINECRAFT COME BACK HERE." you were chasing Phil, through the woody forest, covered by oak trees. He had information on Technoblade's whereabouts and you needed it. You chased him with your enchanted netherite armor, netherite sword and axe, and a few op potions. Your goal was to capture Philza and interrogate him on where Techno's place was. The thing was, you were his child. His own child trying to kill his own son.

He felt betrayed, his own child turned against him and their brother, their family. "The Butcher Army must've gotten to you somehow." he thought in his head. Surely, his darling Y/n didn't do it on their own will, right?

He was incorrect, you did it because you believed that Techno needed to be brought to justice, by punishment. You believed that your own sibling needed to die, because he was a "liability" to L'Manberg's growth and future. He needed to die because as long as he would live his long life with his little enderman Edward, retired, he would still cause trouble to everything you, Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, and Ranboo had built.

He pleaded, "Stop Y/n, you don't have to do this." You argued, "I do Philza, as long as he lives, my plans for L'Manberg will forever cease to exist."

He felt like shit, you called him Philza, not Dadza, or Dad, or anything besides his normal name. "Did I screw something up?" he asked himself quietly under his breath. "Yes you did Phil, you took the traitor's side." you had heard Phil mumble.

"HE'S NOT A TRAITOR." Phil yelled at you. "Yes he is, he deserves what he is about to get, I will say it again, where is his base?"

"I'm not saying, Y/n, why are you doing this, Techno is your own sibling." "He's not my sibling anymore, that stopped when he destroyed L'Manberg, you're lucky I forgived you." you declared.

"Y/n/n, please don't do this."

"I have to Dadza, I can't let him roam free."

When I said take me to the moon, I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky, it meant that all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just one more piece of land For us to colonize, for us to turn to sand

Bad had tried to convice you to join the Eggpire. You had no effect while being next to the egg, and he had to take you out. People who had no effect towards the egg had to be eliminated.

He was creepily following you, waiting until you stopped to get a chance to capture you. He had hope that you did have an effect, that you would join the Egg with him. He didn't want to kill you, you were his best friend, besides Skeppy of course.

"Come back here Y/n." he said. "No chance in hell Bad, get the fuck away from me." "HEY, LANGUAGE!" he exclaimed. "No language, get away from me, you're creeping me out."

He threw his trident, spinning in the air, trying to catch up to your frantic steps. You were trying to get to Church Prime, where no one could kill anyone, hopefully Bad would abide to that rule. You were just about to step on Church Prime when you bumped into a hard, armored chest.

You looked up shyly, and saw Punz, with his red eyes reflecting anger. "Where are you going Y/n?" he questioned. "Somewhere." you blankly stated. You were desperate, you didn't want to die, or anything else that Bad was going to do to you. You tried to dodge Punz, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, "Stay right here Y/n."

"No, get away from me, I don't know what's wrong with all of you, but go away, I don't want anything to do with your stupid Eggpire." He raged, and grabbed your wrist heavily, "DON'T TALK ABOUT THE EGG LIKE THAT, IT WILL TAKE CONTROL OF THE SERVER, AND YOU ALL WILL BE ITS SERVANTS." "LET ME THE FUCK GO PUNZ." you screamed. You were wiggling in his grip, trying to escape his lunatic self.

While he was holding you, you saw two other shadows behind you. It was Antfrost and Bad. "What do you guys want from me, I didn't do anything wrong."

"You are against the Egg Y/n, people who are like you and Tommy have to die."

"Well, I'm not dying today." you murmured under your breath. "What was that you said?" Antfrost asked you.

You smirked, "I'm not dying today, I'll tell you one more time, let go of me."

Bad and Antfrost walked closer to you, Punz right behind you, all of them cornering you into a tight spot. "What you going to do about it Y/n, you're cornered."

"You'll know when they get here, but for now, you better run boys."

'Cause we're so fuckin' mean, we're so elitist, we're as fucked as any church And this bullshit West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I loved you, and why would you lie? And then I realized that you're just as naïve as I am Oh, you're so traumatized it makes me want to cry

"Tubbo, don't do this." Schlatt had unfortunately found out that you were a spy, that you were on Pogtopia's side. He had ordered Tubbo to kill you with fireworks, to light you on fire, give you blisters all over your body. "Please Tubbs, you're my friend." you pleaded.

"I can't Y/n/n, or something worse will happen." he whispered to you. "What do you mean?" you asked. "He can-" he trailed off, looking somewhere else besides your eyes. "Tubbo, you don't have to do what that stupid bastard tells you to do, you're your own person, with your own thoughts and actions."

"I'm sorry Y/n, I hope you can forgive me."

"TUBBO N-" you was cut off by firewords hitting your skin, making blisters and burn marks all over your body. You lost your second canon life, feeling betrayed by Tubbo. He killed you for what, a stupid father who never cared about him in his entire life, a father who exiled his friends that actually treated him like a person, and not like some random piece of trash.

You respawned in your bed, feeling bruises and bumps mostly on your forearms and your back.

"I'll help you Tubbo, I’ll get rid of him.”

You dumb bitch I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I'm so embarrassed, I feel abused

“Come on Y/n/n, come with me.” Punz begged of you. He wanted you to visit the Egg. You didn’t want to be controlled by a stupid omelette. "I'm not Punzo, why are you so obsessed with that stupid thing."

"DON'T SPEAK OF THE EGG LIKE THAT."

You put your hands in front of you, accidentally touching Punz's chest, "Ok calm down buddy." He didn't calm down and instead yelled at you on why you had to join the Eggpire.

"If you join, you will be forever happy."

"If you join you'll get whatever you want."

You were tired of the members of the Eggpire to convince you to join them, you didn't like eggs anyway. "Punz, for the last time, I'm not joining you, stop telling me."

“Then you have to die.”

So fuck your tunnels, fuck your cars, fuck your rockets, fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla, but you're just another Edison 'Cause Tesla broke a patent, all you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart

“XD!” You were pissed at him, he had destroyed your house, made your friends pissed at you, just everything you liked. All because he wanted you for himself.

He wanted you to be dependent on his every word, and he was being a manipulative psychopath. And you didn’t tolerate that, it was like he was his human counterpart, Dream.

He walked to you with confidence, waiting for to get a hug from you, well, he didn’t get that. You slapped him so hard his head swung to the left.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

“That’s what you get you stupid son of a bitch. You fucking ruined everything.” “Calm down Y/n/n, what is wrong?” He acted concerned, but you knew that he was faking. He would do anything to get someone’s approval.

“DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT’S WRONG, IT’S YOU, YOUR STUPID PRESENCE IN MY LIFE. YOU KEEP ON WALKING AROUND LIKE YOU FUCKING OWN THE PLACE.”

“Calm down darling, just take some netheri-” you interrupted him by slapping the ore out of his hands. “I don’t need jack shit from you XD, you know what, take back the necklace, I don’t want it.” You pulled the shiny, green emerald necklace off your neck, and pulled XD’s palm out.

You placed the necklace filled with memories, and put it on his hand. You closed up his palm, and walked away, leaving XD to his own accord.

“We could’ve had evertything X.”

[writingbywatson]

Genshin Boys With A Dense Crush (Part 2)

Here is part 2~ so, the reason why I didn't include Bennett and Razor is the fact that I can never write for them, like IDK why but its just very hard for me. So yeah, sorry about that. Part 1 (Albedo, Childe and Diluc)

Chongyun

Dense + Dense = more dense

It was painfully obvious that Chongyun likes you but for some reason, he can’t quite figure that out for himself

But everyone around them knows

Xingqiu is actually on the road to writing a book about the two of you

Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei are betting on how long until Chongyun realizes his feelings

Chongyun doesn’t know why he likes to see you every day, wants to have meals with you, and why he gets uncomfortable when he sees you with another person and smiling at them

Maybe it was the work of g-

“Oh I like them” -Chongyun one day when he woke up

He consulted his best friend Xingqiu about this and Xingqiu just placed his books down and said “dear archons finally, it was getting very painful to watch”

So the two started planning a cute little confession scenario

Somewhere Xinyan and Yan Fei are crying because they lost the best but Yan Fei is arguing that betting was illegal and has no ground in the law… Yan Fei, you betted with your conscience please stop

Anyway!

The pair of best friends decided to go with a simple type of confession because less is more in Xingqiu’s books

It was going so well, a cute dinner and all of that

“I like you Y/N, can we be more than that?”

Oh is that Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei spying on both of you from the bushes? Why, yes indeed.

“You want to be best friends Chongyun? But don’t you have Xingqiu as your best friend already?” - you with your ever so innocent voice and expression

Chongyun is frozen in place

Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao and Yan Fei are betting again this time how many times will Chongyun get a friendzone

Kaeya

Someone revive him

He can’t take your dense nature anymore

This is Kaeya after all everything he does allude to something so WHY WON'T YOU GET IT STILL

“Oh, Kaeya? You like someone!? Can you introduce me to them?” - you asking excitedly upon hearing his and Rosaria’s conversation

Kaeya was pretty sure he was describing you

Rosaria is holding back her laugh, she can't breathe… SOMEONE SAVE HER

“I love them but this dense attitude is too much!” - Kaeya as he slams his fist on top of Diluc’s bar

“Have you tried wooing them?” - Diluc as his wiping a glass down, he's so nonchalant about this situation LMAO

“HAVE I TRIED?” - Kaeya sounding very offended

“How about getting a white bed sheet and painting “will you marry me Y/N” on it?” - Rosaria

“Yeah, they leave me no ch-”

“Sit down, don’t embarrass yourself like a child” - Diluc pushing his brother down to sit

“HOW WILL I GET MY FEELINGS ACROSS THOUGH!”

“Just confess, normally… like… a normal person” - Diluc

Kaeya decided that in two days time he was going to confess to you, two days because he needed to make sure it was perfect

But the moment he saw you laughing with some random guy all the planning was thrown out the window

“Meet me in front of the church when the sun rises” - Kaeya to you when he passes by you at the corridor of the headquarters

When you arrived, he made you stand at the flight of stairs in front of the church while he went down

He kneeled with his right knee touching the ground and he pulled a very neatly folded white sheet from his pocket

He unraveled it and wrote, “WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N?”

But even before you can react a thunderous shouting can be heard and a chuckle

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? I SAID CONFESS NORMALLY!” -Diluc

Thoma

I’m going to try but still little info on this new pyro husband

Thoma is a very understanding boy

He likes you so much that he's willing to wait

But damn has he been waiting long

He decided he was going to confess to you today as well!

“Y/N! I like you!” - Thoma

“I like you too! You are like my best friend!” - you

Every time this happens Thoma stress eats.

Ayaka is giggling because he has never seen her friend like this

He's trying his best for you to like him, he cooks for you, takes care of you, guards you, protects you…

WHAT IS HE DOING WRONG!?

“You know the festival is ongoing” -Ayato as he watches his sister’s friend mop around like a puppy who has been kicked. “Why don’t you try confessing properly and straight-forwardly there?”

That gave him an idea

He dragged to the talisman-wishing thing and told you that you two should make one

When the both of you were done, you should each other what you made and to your surprise, Thoma made a drawing of the both of you holding hands

“It’s not us being best friends forever” - he clarified

“It’s me hoping to spend many more years beside you as your lover.”

Venti

Barbatos aka Venti the Bard has been singing a lot of love songs lately

Especially when you were in the audience watching

He always likes your smile especially when you were watching him

So when the two of you were strolling around near the church of Monstad

He decided that he was going to confess today

Years of being alone and he finally get what Vanessa told him about meeting the right person

“Y/N, I love you-”

“Aww, Venti, I love you too!”

“Really?!” - Venti very excitedly

“Yeah! I love you as a friend! We’re like besties!”

Dvalin felt that

Andrius felt that

Hell even Vanessa felt that from Celestia

“Oh I got to go, bestie, I have something to do! See you tomorrow!”

Lately, the winds of Monstad have been depressing?

“I don’t understand! I thought they liked me back!” Venti his chugging his alcohol while Diluc looked at him in irritation

Diluc wants to kick him out but Venti is Monstad’s archon so he decided against it

“Venti! There you are!” - you

Venti hears your voice and because his drunk his happy instead of upset

He throws himself at you in an attempt of a sloppy hug

“Y/N! I love you~”

“I love you too, we are fr-”

“NO! I LOVE YOU LIKE A SIGNIFICANT OTHER I LOVE YOU! THAT TYPE OF LOVE THAT IF YOU ASK ME TO FIGHT MORAX I WOULD!”

Xiao

When Xiao first had these feelings he was confused

He lived a long life and this was the first time in his life where when he sees someone his chest becomes constricted and warm

“Xiao! Do you like traveler!?” - you excitedly

Xiao felt a tightening in his chest not that good type but am i being stab right now type of tightening

His answer would usually be along the lines of no and he can’t have relationships with mortals

He usually has a lot more patience with you compared to others but hearing you say that he looks good with someone else just made something in him snap

He didn’t mean to shout at you nor did he mean it when he said you should leave him alone

That’s why he's waiting for you at Wangshun Inn, his loneliness grew into worry when after 2 days you weren’t back yet

Upon eavesdropping around he also found out that no one has seen you and your last known location was Mt. Hulao and he immediately began to worry because that place was prohibited to humans

“Are you looking for someone?” - Mountain Sharper appeared behind Xiao as he reached the top of Mt. Hulao. “Are you looking for a mortal perhaps?”

“How did-”

“-That mortal is pretty noisy, they don’t stop talking and they know you.”

Oh, the warm feeling in his chest is back because they were talking about him which means that they weren’t angry at him!

“Where are they!?” Xiao would realize and I swear to you his ready to break every amber rock around Mt.Hulao

“Calm down, they are currently collecting Qingxin flowers”

Right on cue, “XIAO!? IS THAT YOU!?” he heard your voice from behind him, when he saw you, he immediately rushes to you and hugs you

“What are you doing here!?” Xiao would ask, his voice was raised only because of relief

“Oh, I got lost! And Moon Sharper here saw me, we ended up chatting and I guess I forgot the time, he shared so many stories about y- WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT ARE YOU HURT!?”

“I’m alright… I just… I m-miss…”

Moon Sharper is just looking at this scene and he knows he's about to spill the hottest tea next time the adeptus (idk plural form okay) have a dinner party

Xingqiu

At first glance, it might look like that he isn’t affected at all

But internal his boiling

WHY WERE YOU SO DENSE

IF IT WEREN’T FOR HIS CLAN'S TEACHING AND WHAT NOT HIS PROBABLY ABOUT TO ASK YOU FOR A FIGHT

“You’ll make a great husband someday Xingqiu, I know it! Your future wife would be so happy!”

“I want you to be my wife though”

“What was that?”

“NOTHING!”

He knows he needs to move so he can win your heart but how can he when you were dodging every advance he makes

What is more frustrating is that YOU ARE NOT EVEN DOING IT ON PURPOSE

As an author he wants to experience romance first hand, so he tries to be romantic about it but this was frustrating

He decided to pull his last technique from his sleeves

He lent you a very romantic book and between one of the pages he inserted a paper that read “I wish for you to be my muse.”

If that doesn’t work Xingqiu is going to ask you to fight him

Zhongli

Zhongli, Rex Lapis aka Morax has lived thousands of years

Yet this is the first time he encountered someone so dense at first he taught you were just kidding and pretending but when he described what he likes in someone which was pertaining to you

You simply said “WOW THEY SOUND WONDERFUL AND YOU MUST REALLY LIKE THEM BECAUSE YOU SOUND SO IN LOVE” at his face with genuine awe, there was no sign of you being flustered and whatnot

Hu Tao was there to witness this and the younger female had a good laugh when she witnessed this

Zhongli is now praying to Guizhong for help and patience

He first wondered if the reason for such behavior was because you dislike him but it wasn’t the case because you would always smile when you see him

Which makes his knees very weak

In heaven, all the dead gods are laughing at him

He has lived for so many years and yet he doesn’t know what to do because he wants to spend years with you

But a part of him says this isn’t right because his an immortal and you were a mortal, someday him being a former god would drive an enigma in the future

That’s why he was also hesitating on his part

“Zhongli, look-look! A merchant from Monstad gave me a Cecilia!” - you snapping him from his thought, he's a tall man so you had to tip-toe to put the flower in his hair

“There you look even prettier now!” - you smiling up to him

As you were withdrawing your hand, Zhongli grabs it and places it in front of his lips

“I love you Y/N”

[wrctings]

Jean Kirschtein x reader | Friends, or is it more?

the more i watch aot, the more i love jean... his moments of self-doubt and his moved smile truly are heart-wrenching 🥺

fandom: Attack on Titan pairing: Jean Kirschtein x reader summary: Where you realise that you’re falling for your best friend, whose heart is already taken—or so you thought. Fortunately, what becomes a saddening party can also turn into an unexpected occasion to make things right. word count: 3.3k

Sometimes, belonging to the Scouts regiment came with something that, from up close, resembled a flicker of momentary joy. You had, of course, been aware of the harrowing shadow of a reputation that trudged behind the wings of liberty: danger, death and despair; the three Ds accompanying your pledge to humanity drummed their deafening beat alongside your horse's frenzied gallop whenever you took place in the formation that led you outside the walls, the wind hurling through your hair and your senses at the height of their tension, ready to signal the approach of a titan at any given minute, bracing your body for every possible threat. You had faith in commander Erwin, had faith in your comrades—if giving your life was necessary for your cause, then, you had silently promised yourself and your people, you would give it with eyes wide open and undefeated fierceness, be it in the heat of battle or any other way. The wings embroidered upon your cape represented your beliefs more intensely than any word—as long as there was a Scout left, hope would live still; blossom upon the tall grass that freely grew upon the tombs of your fallen comrades. Even the smallest victory made you believe that a change could be made—and even the smallest victory was celebrated in the battalion as a sign that bode well for the foreseeable future. It was such celebrations, though as small as the victories they marked, that made room for moments of joy the regiment could barely encounter at other times. And when those moments came, life suddenly appeared coated with a hundred colours, full of humorous idiocies and heedless amusement that stirred up in you all the youthful glee of not caring about a thing in the world but the people around you and the drink in your hand.

"You guys won't believe the position we found Bertholdt in this morning!"

Seated beside Armin, who himself flanked Eren as Mikasa had naturally settled on the other side of their childhood friend, you leaned further on the wooden table of the barrack in order to hear your brunet friend more distinctly, his excited voice reviving the conversation at once. Drawn by a cheerful and carefree sort of curiosity, which was well fueled by the general bright mood, finding out about Bertholdt's daily sleeping position suddenly appeared like the most fascinating event one could discuss, especially when followed by the boys' weather previsions based on their comrade's often strange and tangled up poses. You exchanged an amused look with Mikasa, and though your friend's features remained almost as impassive as usual, the vivid twinkle you caught through the dark shine of her eyes mirrored your cheery behaviour; Armin's face, on the other hand, wore an expressive smile, the blond boy remembering vividly the description of Bertholdt that Eren began recounting.

But even as you laughed at the image of Bertholdt's knees somehow managing to stay bent as he slept on his stomach, the upper part of his legs outstretched toward the sky in an unusual—to say the least—position, your gaze went on sweeping the room, in search of the one person you couldn't wait to chat with again, though you also got along really well with Armin, Mikasa and Eren. The only problem was, said person was not that fond of the self-righteous brunet ball of energy sat at your table, so you were not surprised to find him in Conny and Sasha's company instead, talking animatedly. You had already had the opportunity to chat with Jean earlier that evening, the two of you having grown so close to each other that it would've been impossible for you not to cross paths tonight, but you wondered whether you would drift toward each other again before the makeshift party came to an end; Captain Levi had been surprisingly unbothered by your shy request to celebrate today's mission's success, accepting it on the sole condition that only soft drinks were to be consumed—Armin suspected that Commander Erwin was responsible for granting the new recruits' wishes, as they had after all already endured quite a lot during the expedition to retrieve Eren from Annie.

"We better watch out for that sleeping position of Bertholdt's, maybe it means good luck," Armin observed lightheartedly, taking a sip from his drink.

"You should keep a notebook with all of them, and maybe you'll crack the code someday," you added with a chuckle, the three of you glancing at Bertholdt.

Having your 104th comrades with you in the Scouts regiment really did bring you a lot of comfort to help you navigate these new uncharted waters, though it also made it acutely unbearable to imagine that some of them might not make it back next time; Marco served as your first and most painful lesson that even those dearest to you were never safe. It was after the freckled boy's death that you and Jean had truly bonded, brought together by the devastating loss of your kindhearted friend. You had become each other's rocks since then—checking up on each other after training sessions and expeditions, playful teasing and calling each other all sorts of funny nicknames rooted into the core of your friendship, giving it all its strength. And it was when you had been injured during the 57th expedition and Jean had almost hysterically ran up to you afterwards, cursing with no restraint and holding your arm so tightly it hurt when he helped you limp toward the medical wing, that you had been hit for the first time, though still shaken from slaying a titan and the bloody cut burning your leg, by how grateful you were to have made it out alive, to have Jean by your side. It was then that you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with than him—it was something more than anything you've ever felt before, as your timidly pounding heart had been reminding you ever since.  

But another thing unavoidable when being friends with Jean, of course, was the bickering between your comrade and Eren—and this evening was no different from any other week. A few minutes later, as you engaged in a pleasant conversation with Armin, your attention was drawn by the thunderous eruption of voices that suddenly shook the walls of the barrack, making many pairs of surprised eyes turn toward the belligerent protagonists of the argument. It just had to be Eren and Jean, hadn't it? Like the rest of your comrades, you couldn't possibly guess where the spark that ignited this new inferno came from, but with these two, a valid reason often wasn't needed; to the greatest despair of the 104th, both boys possessed magic powers to summon reasons to fight out of thin air. At the present moment, both Eren and Jean were actively yelling at each other, shooting names and accusations back and forth.

However, the lack of rational incidents to cause such a scene didn't mean that there was no deeper reason for Jean's outbursts, just like Eren's counter-attacks originated from his legendary stubbornness already well-known to his fellow comrades. You had been suspecting for a long time that Jean mainly proclaimed his hatred towards Eren because of Mikasa. Before the 57th expedition, when both of you were in a playful and mischievous mood, you would even friendlily tease Jean about his soft spot for the dark haired young woman, which he hadn't hidden very well ever since Mikasa and he met for the first time. It was quite unfortunately, really, that your heart had finally chosen Jean, of all people, to fall for—as if you weren't well aware of how much he admired and liked Mikasa! And this mascarade surely had to have been orchestrated to get her attention, just like many other failed schemes of Jean's, as Mikasa barely seemed interested in anyone but Eren, Armin, sometimes Sasha, and you.

"There he goes again..." You muttered downheartedly, sparing a glance at your best friend.

"It's Eren and Jean, after all..." Armin responded with a sorry smile, squirming on the bench to get further away from Eren, who was now up on his feet and facing Jean with balled up fists. Mikasa watched the two boys through squinted eyes, at the ready to jump and knock over Jean if needed—at least, your friend's plan to get her attention had succeeded.

"I know how this is going to end," you told Armin under your breath, averting your gaze from the fighters. "You know what, I think it's right about time for me to head off. I don't want to witness Captain Levi tearing their heads off for wrecking havoc in here."

"Really? Don't you want to stay a little longer? I'm sure it won't come to this!"

"I don't even want to know. Goodnight, Armin, thank you for the nice chat," you excused yourself, fleeing from the barrack swift as a cat, only the passage of a furtive ray of light on the floor signifying that the door to the room had been opened as quickly as it was closed.

You knew better than to cling onto something you could not reach, so why endure the spectacle of such a foolish play?

*

Outside, nighttime had descended upon the camp with its soothing quietness. Nothing in sight but the warm flutter of torches fixed upon the barracks; nothing ringing in your ears but the chirping melody of a cricket's song, its echo delicately carried away by the evening wind. No ecstatic shouting, no blaring laughter. Nothing but a lone constellation half-veiled by the grey trail of clouds that unhurriedly floated upon the dark depths of the sky. No Jean, no Eren. You took a lungful of fresh air before a long sigh lifted off your chest—if only things could go back to the way they had been. Back when Jean was nothing but a fun and (sweetly) annoying horse-faced boy to be around, and no cause for heartache.

You took some more steps ahead, the muffled sounds you could still hear from inside dying out as you walked further away. Although you had told Armin that your time to go had come, you didn't feel like getting back to bed right now; actually, you didn't feel like anything but escaping for a little while.

At last, you decided to retrace your steps, taking a seat on the ground beside the barrack you had abandoned, your back pressed against its wooden surface. On the other side, the cacophony hadn't ceased, only muffled by the wall that separated you from the inside mayhem. Had Jean and Eren opted for a fistfight denouement by now? Would Mikasa intervene?

But before you had enough time to explore the many scenarios your imagination could sketch out, the door beside which you had settled opened abruptly, a wide stream of light flooding the ground at once. In the blink of an eye, a visibly disconcerted figure appeared on the threshold, freezing as they took a look around before rapidly bifurcating to the side in order to follow one of the torchlit paths...

"Jean?"

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Jean rushed toward you as soon as he noticed your silhouette from behind the shadows, discovering your hiding-place. "I didn't even see you leave..."

"I'm sorry, I was starting to feel tired." Touched by the fact that Jean had left the room to look for you, you attempted to give him a plausible excuse.

"C'mon, you can get through a day of training, but you can't get through one of the only party nights we're lucky enough to have?" Jean taunted, taking a seat next to you. "What's the matter?" he gently elbowed you, throwing his neck back so he could press his head against the wall behind. "Just when I was about to defeat Eren..."

"Defeat Eren, really? Statistically, it's more likely for Captain Levi to smile than for us to see that happen," you laughed tiredly, trying not to think about how Jean would probably soon get back to Mikasa and the others.

"Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want, it'll happen. Someday this idiot will get his ass handed to him."

Closing your eyes, you only had it in you to maintain the forced smile painted over your lips while fighting back the rush of stinging tears that suddenly overwhelmed you. Why did Jean had to come and check up on you now of all times, right when you were more than ever convinced that you were starting to fall for him, and it couldn't be clearer that his every move longed for someone else?

"You know, I was going to get him, but Mikasa can get scary..." It was as if he could decipher the riddles of your mind, unaware of the way your heart convulsed. "I wouldn't want to cross her. Why would she hang out with this idi—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come here to rant about this, then you can leave," you ended up snapping, biting back more acre words . "I'm tired, okay? Just get back to the fun inside."

"You... You don't feel like talking?" Jean's voice softened from incomprehension, trying to read your tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that bad. Hey, you really don't want to talk?"

You shook your head in response, scolding your own self for such pathetic behaviour. Jean couldn't possibly know about your suppressed feelings, so your attitude must indeed appear more than confusing, especially since you were so used to confiding in each other and cheering each other up, for the past weeks more than ever. In the wake of Icarus's ascend towards the sun, untethered and naive, your wings of wax were melting... But who could've predicted, as much as a month earlier, that the loveable idiot by your side would doom you to downfall?  

"Okay... Well...," the young man ran a distracted hand through his hair, frowning as his jaw clenched. "Then I'll talk. You know, I had an idea for tonight," he began after collecting his thoughts, breaking through the hesitant seconds that had temporarily numbed his tongue. "It was our first successful expedition after that near-death experience after all, so I thought I'd better make the most of it and make tonight's celebration useful. Who knows when we'll get another one. Maybe you're right and it's actually more likely to see Captain Levi smile than to get another one of these again soon." Jean's speech ran freely now, his torrent of sentences—for the moment still not making clear sense as to where they were headed to—submerging you in the familiar flow of his voice. As of late, your greatest fear had become to miss its distress call in the ranging mist of a battle, to watch Jean's body be torn to shreds as you could only scream until everything else vanished... "So I thought I'd be brave, for once." He took a deep breath in, fingers nervously wrapped around the back of his own neck. "There's this person I like."

There it was. Somehow, you knew that it would be coming—after the stunt he pulled earlier with Eren...

"They're much braver than I am, but they probably know that already," Jean went on, chuckling self-depreciatingly—he knew he could poke at himself in your company without being ashamed of disclosing his flaws. "They wouldn't hesitate to come and rescue me, even if I were grabbed by a titan. And they're really beautiful, too—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come to talk about Mikasa, just save it," you could only murmur. "Pl—"

"And, quite surprisingly, they're also a dumbass!" Jean didn't let you finish either, shifting his head so he could see your face better. "But that's something both of us have in common." Taken aback by such a strange confession, you opened your eyes to take an intrigued look at Jean while hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears you had at last blinked away. You met his gaze head-on, even among the shadows that coiled over his face.  "Because they think that I still have a thing for a girl I liked for two weeks, while I've been talking about them all along."

"What—"

"You know, you're the one who makes being called "horse-face" the funniest," Jean cracked an unsure smile at you, fiddling with his hands. "Alright, it's the bravest I'll ever be, so time to crawl in a hole and die now," he immediately added more anxiously, looking like the unexpected nature of his confession had stricken him for the first time.

"Wait, Jean, no!" It was as if, for the first time in a span of unending minutes, you could breathe again. "Wait, is this... Is this for real?" You asked in what came out almost a whisper, fearing, in this instant where your hopes balanced on the edge of a precipice of churning doubt and elation, that this was a joke you would not be able to forgive. Jean was better than this, but what if?—the thought drilled into your heart.

"Well... Yes. I'm sorry if I've made things awkward, it's Armin who told you might like me too and—"

"Hey, hey," your hand found its way to Jean's arm in a comforting touch, preventing him from leaving as he made a move to flee after blurting out an apology. Judging by your frantic heartbeat, there was no way you could be the calmer person in this situation—and yet, Jean somehow managed to look even more distressed than you at the moment. "I do like you." It was your turn to get embarrassed, which your flushed cheeks openly betrayed, illuminated by the nearby torch's flitting flame. "But Mikasa...?"

"Y/n, I haven't liked Mikasa for longer than a few weeks. I mean, yes, she's beautiful and strong, but so are you. And you're so much more than that. You're so fun to be around, I haven't laughed so hard with anyone but you. Unlike me, you're not scared to be brave and kind, but with you, I don't need to think which face I need to put on, because I know we don't have to pretend to be someone we're not when we're around each other. And when you got injured... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you. I made myself a promise then that I would tell you, and tonight seemed like the right time. I've been talking to Armin after the expedition and I think he kind of guessed that I liked you, and that you liked me too—I don't even know how or why, but he told me he thought you did. That's not exactly how I thought it'd go but... Trying to get your attention by getting in a fight with Eren wasn't that good of a plan, I guess."

"So that's what it was...! You really are an idiot, Jean Kirschtein," you declared vivaciously, but the moved smile that brightened your face spoke louder than the fond insults Jean and you would fire at each other. "We need to watch out for Armin, he will uncover everyone's secrets, at this rate..." You joked before regaining a more serious attitude, your emotions truly swayed by your friend's avowal. "The expedition changed everything for me too. I realised that I didn't want to go without you. No, I realised that I didn't want to go at all—I wanted to stay. With you."

"Pff, get in line," Jean grinned in spite of the emotional look on his face, sighing in relief. "I've been liking you for months."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. Do you think I go out of my way to check up on everyone after a battle or that everyone's mom gets the privilege of being the centre of my skilfully crafted jokes?"

"Shut up," you laughed wholeheartedly, your shoulder against Jean's. "Your mom's a hoe."

"Very clever," he teased you in return, face glowing from a joy even more vivd than the fiery sparks that chased the night's spectres away. “I bang yours every night.”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes—mom jokes were a must in your goofy friendship. A friendship that, with a bit of unpredicted luck, was on the verge of becoming something more.

[fantastic-wiles]

The original draft to Incompatible Lives

(which ended up becoming a seperate story, AKA, Interdependency)

Chapter One

Taking careful, calculated steps; Alfred slowly treads his path through the hallway. He holds a flashlight in hand, relying on what illumination it could offer. The lightning outside was a lousy replacement for light, and it was the main cause for the lack of electricity. Alfred received word that a power line had been damaged in the harsh winds outside. Whilst the cave underneath would not be affected, holding itself up on its own power grid, the manor would unfortunately suffer the consequences. Alfred did not know how long it would take for them to repair the power, but he was nothing if not prepared.

Alfred stops in front of a wooden door, slim, yet intricate. He adjusts the light in his hand, shifting it to the other, before reaching out his knuckles for a light knock.

“Master Bruce?” He rasps, throat dry.

He waits patiently for a reply, knowing full well that his pseudo son was most likely awake. It takes him a minute to receive an answer, but eventually he hears a dull, withdrawn, “Alfred.”

Alfred invites himself into Bruce’s room without further notice. He creaks the door open, shining the flashlight into the room.

The light outlines Bruce’s form at the window, leaning against the pane, hand against the cool of the glass. Alfred’s lips tug downward in concern. Bruce didn’t react to the shining light, Alfred’s entrance, or the jolt of lighting on manor grounds. He looked utterly defeated. Alfred knew his appearance had nothing to do with the electricity.

“How is he?” Bruce whispers.

Alfred knew exactly who Bruce was referring to. His heart falls at the memory, as it did every single time, making him weary. There was only so much pain their family could take, and Alfred feared he might just be sent to his death bed because of it. He was burdened with an overwhelming amount of bitter depression, mainly on the behalf of his family. He would not be surprised if the stress, grief, and misery buried him.

“Nothing has changed,” Alfred reports.

Bruce leans his forehead against the window.

Alfred’s heart squeezes for him in a most sorrowful manner. His heart felt like an anvil in his chest, ready to rip out of his chest, and land heavily on the floor. Bruce had worked hard to bring his boy back, Alfred had been there with him, watching, wishing, aching for his hopeful return. When Bruce tore himself out of the portal, family spilling out behind, he was desperate to stab the omega sanctum in Damian’s chest. They all watched with bated breath as Damian’s body was reanimated. Their excitement only lasted a moment. Damian might have been breathing again, he might have a healthy body, but his mind was elsewhere. It was only natural that his father, who had searched the ends of the earth to revive his youngest son, fell into a deep depression afterward. He’d done everything he could to bring his son back, but now he was overcome with guilt. He’d brought his son back only to curse him, submitting him to a life of crippled mental health. It was severe. Damian was alive, but he wasn’t living. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t smile, he didn’t scowl, he didn’t get angry, or make childish quips. He had no personality. He was simply a shadow of himself, grieving Bruce immensely.

“Maybe something would change if you visit him,” Alfred says. He knew what it looked like. Damian was a husk of himself, devoid of a soul, not entirely returned to their family. Yet, despite the major disappointment, Alfred still had a glimmer of hope. Damian might not be entirely lost to him. What if he was to return someday? Alfred felt there was still a chance for Damian. “There’s a dinner to be held tomorrow evening. I’ve invited the family. I want you to be there.”

“It hurts to see him Alfred,” Bruce croaks.

At this, Alfred frowns sympathetically.

“I know,” he agrees. Yet, even so, it is Alfred who is his caregiver. He attends to Damian’s needs as if he were a crippled patient, incapable of taking care of himself. “I do not ask for much. I just want you to show up to dinner with the family. I do believe that it will lighten your spirits.”

“I am not sure if I can,” Bruce weakly admits.

Alfred enters the room. He approaches his son, in anything but blood, and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“You know that if you do not show up that I will send the boys to track you down?” He says, trying to offer comfort.

Bruce twists in his spot, and Alfred is ready for him.

Alfred doesn’t think twice about dropping the flashlight to the ground. He embraces his boy.

.

It takes Bruce a long time to pull himself out of his room. He dreads going down into the dining room, but Alfred’s threats rang clear in his mind. With some reluctance, he forces himself to get out of bed, and then he puts on a pair of slippers. It takes great energy to pull them on his feet. He feels as if he has hiked the mountain side in the effort. Fatigued beyond measure. He feels as if his body were a heavy weight, keeping it straight through pure will.

He’d done everything within his power to bring his boy back.

He’d dissected Frankenstein, only to have his efforts run into the ground by Tim, and then he had ruined his relationship with Jason. Searching for an answer as to how he’d revived himself in the grave.

(Jason had said, “If you cared about me, you wouldn’t want me to dredge up the one thing I’ve been trying to forget. I don’t want to remember the most horrific day of my life, all right? You may lie wallowing in your tragedies, Bruce, but I’m done looking back!”)

(Bruce growled in return, pointing an accusatory finger, “If you cared about me and what I’ve lost, you’d want to dredge this up! Don’t you see? There’s a chance you can help me erase one of the worst days of my life, Jason! You can give me the greatest gift of all and help me figure out how to bring my son back!”)

(“Yeah, and what about me? How about the gift of not knowing that the Joker manipulated my entire life, huh? The clown tainted everything - the good - the bad. Hell, my life’s even been tainted by you!”)

He had thrown himself into a simulation multiple times. What could he have done better? How could he have saved Damian?

(Dick, who’d entered with him said with glistening eyes, watered over by tears, “As screwed up as it is, Bruce, Damian knew he was a soldier. He was trained for this war in body and mind from the moment he was born. Trained more than any of us, even you. Turn this loss, this tragedy, into something better. Not just for your sake and his, but for all the people of Gotham. Just like when your parents died. You have to go out each and every night and be Batman.”)

(“I may have to live with Damian’s death, but I don’t ever have to accept it.”)

(“That’s all anyone can expect from a father who had to bury his son, Bruce.”)

Bruce sees flashes of himself rounding up Gotham’s criminals in a dark rage, taking his anger out on villains. He feels nauseous.

(“You’re pushing the city to the edge, packing the jails, straining the courts. I spoke to Tim about your run in with him and Frankenstein,” Barbara had told him.)

(“And your point?”)

(“Is this,” she said, turning on the bat computer’s monitors. Bruce stared at his own carnage, violently taking down criminals. “Is there a price you feel you need to pay for what happened to Damian? Do you think Damian would want you to trade your life for his? Do you think I could ever have shadowed you this close without you knowing?”)

(“You dare put me under surveillance!?”)

He remembers his words to Alfred. His anger.

(“Alfred. You allowed Damian to leave the cave, against my express instructions.”)

(“Sir. I was sure he could look after himself. I had no idea… Sir”)

(“Take a vacation, Alfred. We’ll talk when this is over.”)

Bruce was a sham of a father, of a friend, and of a vigilante.

.

“Wondered when you’d show up, old man.”

Bruce stares into the dining room with a tight chest. It was surreal to see his family all gathered together around the table, including a few he had thought elsewhere. Helena, despite her penchant of going off grid, was sitting within view on Barbara’s right. Stephanie sat on Helena’s other side, saying something to Tim, who happened to be sitting straight across from Jason. Jason was the one who’d addressed Bruce, looking at him from the end of the table.

Bruce swallows thickly. His eyes inevitably drift up to Damian who Alfred had sat right next to the head of the table. Alfred sat at his right, for a strange sight, attending to his food.

Dick sat next to Alfred. He offers Bruce a small smile.

Bruce’s attention wasn’t on Dick. He dumbly stood in the doorway watching Alfred fix Damian’s collar. Damian’s eyes were distant as he stared at the table in front of him, mind far, far away in a different land.

“You’re making this awkward, B,” Jason says.

Bruce finally kicks his head back into gear, and he slowly makes his way around the table. He sits himself at the head, knowing himself to be the reason for the tense atmosphere.

Bruce looks down at the food arrayed in front of him, surprised at the exotic selection.

“I looked into cuisine originating from Damian’s culture,” Alfred explains.

“You need to try the warak enab, Bruce,” Dick says.

“What is this again?” Barbara questions as she eyes the small dish.

“Stuffed grape leaves,” Alfred says.

“Looks great, Alfred,” Tim says.

“Well, do not let me keep you,” Alfred returns. “Have at it.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Stephanie pips.

Bruce looks up from his dish, and then glances at Damian.

Alfred assists Damian in the menial task of eating. It was a depressing sight. Bruce can’t bear to look any longer. He focuses on his own food.

His family tries to make conversation while they eat, filling the emotional void with distraction. When addressed, Bruce answers in grunts, feeling just as distant as Damian looks.

By the time the food is almost gone, the family still lingers, all pretending things are fine. Trying to.

Alfred removes himself from the table for just a moment, disappearing into the kitchen, and Bruce, despite his preference to avert his attention elsewhere, inevitably looks at his youngest son again.

Damian was now staring at his empty plate, stomach full of food.

Bruce doesn’t know what drives him to reach out to Damian, but he stretches out a hand to brush his fingers across his cheek. It was at an awkward position, the angle could’ve been better, but it does something to Damian.

Bruce’s heart skips a beat when Damian slowly looks up at him. Bruce’s brain is having trouble understanding what’s going on by the time Damian’s eyes film over, still looking horribly distant, but crying.

“Damian?” Bruce whispers, feeling a traitorous spark of hope.

The table silences and Bruce gets out of his chair.

Damian looks back down at his plate, tears streaming down his cheeks, but once again, devoid of life. The tears stop as quickly as they’d come, making Bruce have doubt that he’d even seen them to begin with.

“He’s-” Barbara starts, unsure what to finish with, “He’s crying.”

Bruce couldn’t believe that what he’d just seen wasn’t just a hallucination.

It couldn’t be, right? He was just being teased. He was being mocked by a higher entity. They were trying to get his hopes up again, and Bruce wasn’t sure what to do with them. He didn’t want to feel grief again, not like he’d felt when Damian had died, and he didn’t want to set himself up for disappointment.

Still.

Bruce might not want to get his hopes up, but that’s what happens anyway.

[marmarparadoxa]

I always read opinions about hanji post time skip and ch 132 they say her decision to sacrifice herself was the decision of a suicidal person because of how inadequate she felt as a commander and unable to live up to erwin’s legacy or things like yams ruined Hanji’s character and was treated by him as unimportant character useless weak or gave up easily and was just there until armin grow up to be commander. As a hanji fan I feel so disappointed in hanji's treatment. What do you think?

Hi! I’m sorry to hear you feel like that as an Hange fan, and I’m aware that you’re not the only one who sees it that way. However, I felt very disoriented at first, when I started reading these opinions, because my experience about Hange’s character in reading the manga was very different from yours. Although I also have my complaints, I actually think that Hange had their time to shine in the last arcs, and moments and scenes and speeches for which I think I came to understand them better, and loved them and all the more felt proud of them, so I can’t say I feel disappointed by their treatment.

For one thing, I don’t think their decision to sacrifice themselves was the decision of a suicidal person. Hange never manifested any sort of suicidal ideation to begin with (as for instance, obviously Reiner did, and somewhat Armin - when he said, in reference to the serum bowl, that it wasn’t him, the one whom they should have revived), and overall, they never gave me the impression of someone willing to throw their life away. It’s true that they didn’t feel worthy of Erwin’s legacy, and blamed themselves for not having been able to show Eren alternative solutions. You can see, in certain moments, how much these thoughts made them doubt their value as commander. However, Hange was not the type of person who would let themselves be led astray by these thoughts, nor shy away from their responsibilities, to cry over themselves - and back to chapter 71, we can see what was their opinion of people who’d do that, in their reaction at Keith Shadis’ story.

Shadis shirked from his role as commander, because he wasn’t “special”, because he didn’t feel equal to his role. In learning that, Hange, for once, was not very sympathetic, but reacted very harshly, and labeled Shadis’ motivations as “childish reasons” and “inferiority complex”. And I think it was not only because they used to admire and have a crush for him once that they felt so outraged at that point, but mostly because of the kind of person Hange had always been. They were an incredibly strong-willed, resilient and self-denying person, who fiercely believed in the ideal they decided to dedicate their life to, and thus felt offended in learning about Shadis’ petty self-concern. And this is how Hange concluded their tirade against the poor Shadis that day: “Isn’t that what it means to cast away your own life and dedicate your heart to the greater good?”. And this leads to a further important point.

Being suicidal, or more or less actively seeking your own death for the sake of your own death, is a different thing from being prepared to altruistically give up on your own life, for the better good. And in view of the above, I’m convinced that Hange’s sacrifice falls under the second sort. In their very last moment, Hange was not thinking about their own misfortunes, but was still looking for the plan to take off, because they wanted to make sure that they could save their friends, and with them, the last chance for salvation for humanity.

So I didn’t like the briskness of the chapter, and I had a hard time suspending my disbelief at Floch having survived Gabi’s shot, and throughout the whole trip of the ship. That was not good-writing, and obviously Isayama wanted to kill off Hange, for whatever reason. But their readiness to take up their responsibilities, and sacrificing their life, was nonetheless consistent with the kind of person Hange has always been. When I think about their sacrifice, their speech to pastor Nick, on top of the walls, in chapter 34 always comes to my mind: “Do you know what exactly we in the Survey Corps have spilled our blood for? To take back the freedom the titans stole from us. For that cause...our lives were a small price to pay.” The Survey Corps required its members to devote their lives, their flesh, their hearts to its cause, and Hange was aware of that.

And when it comes down to it, what exactly could have Hange done to avoid their sacrifice? They couldn’t send any precious titan shifters (to Reiner’s chagrin) and of course they wouldn’t have sent any of the remaining kids (Mikasa, Jean or Connie), to go sacrifice themselves, instead of taking responsibility for their decisions. Levi, at that time, could barely stand up straight. So it had to be them.

I think that Hange was even more courageous, and their sacrifice was all the more admirable (and more painful for me) if you consider that Hange, though willing to take their responsibilities, and committed to their purpose, didn’t actually want to die. Their leaving the kids was so swift, rushed, and they didn’t show how scared they were. But it became manifest when they were asking Levi to let them go, and when he put his fist above their heart, and told them to dedicate their heart, their lips curved downward, and then they laughed it off, and flew away. They downplayed their feelings and rushed, so to be able to leave Levi and the kids - the people they loved - behind. Death, for them, didn’t come as a release from sufference or a crushing burden, but they accepted and went toward it nonetheless.

Then, if we want to address Hange’s character general treatment post time-skip, I think it’d be better to first briefly observe what was Isayama’s general treatment of all Paradis characters, post time-skip. My general impression is that, having come into play all those new different characters from Marley, which asked for narrative space and development, and the plot which had to keep going on, somehow there wasn’t space and time to a proper treatment of the old cast, so that its members, more or less, became rather static and passive.

However, I didn’t perceive Hange’s character as being “unimportant, useless, weak, or giving up easily, who was just there until Armin grew up to be commander”, as you said. In those four years, Hange had a most important role - they were the one who directed their first encounters with Marleyans ships, and talked to their members, and initiated their alliance. Among all Paradis’ political figures, together with Pixis Hange was the one who most took part in negotiations and diplomacy, and worked hard to give Paradis a future. They were shown happily getting excited over Marleyans’ inventions, overcoming  Marleyans’ hostilities. And then there’s that beautiful scene, when they restored hope for the kids, proposing the trip to Marley, and then expressing the Survey Corps’ ideal.  Later on, when Eren betrayed them in Liberio, when in the dungeon he threatened them, and then when the Jeagerists organized and Floch sequestered them, of course Hange felt let down, disheartened, and powerless, and doubted their value. However, given the circumstances, I wonder how these reactions would spoil Hange’s character, where in fact they are most understandable, and human. It made me sad to see Hange suffer that way (the scene where they were shooting at those SC soldiers and crying, and then seeing how Sannes’ words were still haunting them was painful to see), but it was also interesting to see more of their vulnerable side. And so, it was even more remarkable to see what they were able to do, despite the seemingly hopeless conditions, after Eren initiated the Rumbling - Hange didn’t give up easily at all. It was them who gathered the Alliance. They spoke with Magath, and Pieck, and thus persuaded previous enemies to join forces. Then they went and found Mikasa and Jean, and asked them to help them. And, in the morally wavering atmosphere after the start of the Rumbling, the scene of “I’m not accepting genocide!! You’re not getting me to agree with any reason to support this!!”, and their following speech was so powerful, meaningful, and important.

In conclusion, Hange kept on being Hange till the end, I think - they were still the playful, optimist crazy titan scientist (I mean, they asked Pieck’s Cart titan if she ever brushed her teeth in her titan form XD), and, in the bleakest moment, they didn’t lose hope (“It might not work out today...but maybe someday”), they were still keeping on looking to the future.

And I want to add one more thing, in regards to the “afterlife” scene. I imagine that a lot of people (myself included) felt let down when Isayama stated that it was only a “revolving lantern”. But now I think that it doesn’t really matter whether that's just something Hange’s mind created, or an actual afterlife plane. It was an unexpected act of kindness from Isayama, which completed Hange’s arc in a somehow uplifting note. Hange got reunited with their friends, and saw the plane, flying above them (so they knew their sacrifice was not in vain). And then Erwin told them “You did well”. That’s the message Isayama wanted to give us about Hange, and, if nothing else, I feel grateful for that.

[calpops]

reverse revival | c.h.

Calum didn’t have the right words to restore the past. He couldn’t reverse time and make himself realize what he knew all along any sooner. There would be no going back and fixing the moment; there was no way to make it come before the night where nothing went right. Just one night was able to bring back all of the defining moments in Calum’s relationship. The good and the bad, the love and the heartache, the maybes and the somedays.

6k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be posted by anyone else on any platform in any format (translations included).

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A seething silence sat in every inch of Calum’s home. A winter moon was just a sliver in the sky, every empty corner inside echoed back words said in the heat of the moment. His back pressed to the hallway wall, head thumping lightly against it as his hands came up; fingers tangled in his hair. His palms pressed into his forehead and his teeth sank into his lower lip; brown eyes burned without remorse and an involuntary sob that built from his chest up escaped. He fought off the urge to slide down the wall, collapsing in on himself and warding off problems. It was innate to Calum to shut down and close off when the world became too much; he thought he had broken the self destructive habit when he met her, she was one of the few people who could shatter the self imposed silence and make him open up.

Calum took in a shallow breath though he intended for it to be deep. His chest was tight and his throat felt as if it was closing, body pushing off the wall and moving on instinct to the door at the end of the hall. He didn’t knock though it stood closed with reason. His tense hold on the doorknob faltered, his shoulders rolled back and he gathered courage. She was behind the door, waiting in her own world of self imposed silence that would warily welcome Calum and bring him to a sudden stop. The door swung open and Calum stood motionless, her back was to the door, chin resting on her hands and elbows atop her knees, legs hanging off the bed and body still.

Calum managed to get out her name though it was bittersweet as it rolled off his tongue.

There was still a deepset burn that ached through his chest, a night of harsh words and miscommunication haunting them both. She turned to take a peek at him, tired eyes watery and nose twitching. Her hands were shaking and restless, fingers digging into the sheets and eyes flickering away from Calum’s gaze. Calum furrowed his eyebrows, forehead creasing and hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. His breathing was thought out; forced and painful as his throat continued to feel as if it was closing in.

She licked at her bitten raw lips; in times of distress her teeth sank into her lower lip, leaving reminders of peril in their wake. “What?”

Calum let out a huff and dropped his hand. The one worded question was enough to prompt him to go to her side. The word was softer than those exchanged just minutes earlier. It encouraged him to sit on the edge of the bed, inches between them and uncertainty clinging to his next words.

“Let’s go for a drive.”

An incredulous look crossed her face, one that had doubts plaguing Calum’s mind, regrets running rampant over five small words. Maybe his plan was foolish. Maybe the time he spent behind a closed bedroom door in silence had concocted nothing helpful. He swallowed nervously and waited for her response though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it anyway.

“Alright,” she said between a strained breath with eyes that pooled tears and hopes and fears for all that a silent night turned to a drive were worth.

Calum nodded; too scared to speak and break the delicacy of agreement. He was too nervous and unsure to reach for her hand as he usually would, but he could almost feel her fingers locking with his, could almost trace the lifelines on her palms and knew they matched his. Instead, he put one hand in his pocket and stood, the other timidly guiding her with a separation; it stayed in midair, too overwhelmed to press to the small of her back to lead the way. They stumbled around each other and to the bedroom door, sneaking glances as they walked out; taking deep breaths and keeping them in with chests and hearts wound so tight they didn’t know if they’d ever be able to let them go. Only when they reached the front door did a blast of cool air force their exhales; lungs crying in relief and harmony, hearts hanging in silence and tandem.

They reached for their shoes and coats and pulled them on over pajamas; hers reached lower past the short nightgown clinging to her body. Calum’s was leather and smelled like her—so often it found a way to her shoulders on nights when he told her to bring a coat but she never did. Calum stayed silent as they got in the car, only the click of buckles and the hum of the engine coming to life accompanying them. Headlights cut through the night, small flurries of snow lit up and glimmered in the distance. She stayed quiet in the passenger seat; slipped on a mask that bid glossy eyes goodbye and shrouded her in a facade of calm. Calum couldn’t do the same. He couldn’t keep his grip on the wheel from white knuckles or the plummeting feeling from crashing through his stomach. His jaw was set and terse. Eyes distant and yet they took in every minuscule detail of the night; contemplating all that was ahead and all they could leave behind. He wore his heart on his sleeve and emotions on his face. Only with her. Only for her.

They drove on, minutes passing in a blur of headlights and hums. Calum was rigid and unrelenting in his resolve to fix what was breaking. He knew his emotions were heavy and diluting rationale. He knew his heart was yearning for an easy way out and simple fixes to bigger problems. He still felt tight and breathless, winded and uncertain he should let go. From the corner of his eye he saw her shift, saw the mask of calm crack with concern.

“It’s okay. We’re going to figure it out, we’re going to work through this.”

Her comforting words collided with Calum’s hopes. Knowing she wanted the same eased some of the aches, took away some of the uncertainty and helped to build more hope in stained glass walls around his heart.

“Breathe,” she reminded in a whisper and everything bottled up inside of Calum began to let go in fractured pieces that caught the light.

Pressure released slowly; first with a breath, then with dropping shoulders and a relaxed jaw. The road was desolate; the late hour and cold temperature keeping people inside. The path Calum drove was familiar. Turns led to a place that was once considered home to them both. A small apartment complex came into view as Calum eased on the breaks and stopped the car. It stood lit up by the headlights; old stone and ivy climbing the building brought back memories in droves. But one moment stood out in Calum’s mind more than any. It was a night filled with hope and doubt and fears drowned out by desires that a question he’d been dying to ask finally fell from his lips.

“What are we doing here?” She asked and Calum could hear the hitch in her voice and found nervous eyes taking in the old building.

“Remembering,” Calum mumbled and shrugged as he put the car in park and undid his seatbelt; hoping it might alleviate the task that breathing normally was becoming. “I never officially lived here with you, but I realize now that it always felt like our first home.”

The crack in her mask of calm expanded, breaking away entirely as she took in his words and softened; once hardened gazes melting into something much more familiar and welcoming. She nodded, understanding the feeling that Calum was trying to explain. Reminiscing in much the same ways. Missing times when their world was confined to a five hundred square foot studio apartment. Before complications. Before miscommunications made them breathless from words exchanged and hearts finding uncharted doubts.

“I felt that way too,” she said in a whisper and finally met his gaze.

He laughed at the insistent memory forcing its way through his mind. The scattered pieces laid out in a gleaming and familiar pattern, yet it taunted him, was daunting and left his skin prickling with ambivalence.

“It took me months to finally ask if you wanted to live together,” he admitted and noted the way her fingers curled into her palm. He shook his head at the intrusive memory but accepted it into his mind anyway. “And I didn’t even do it in the way I wanted to. My whole plan failed.”

“You had a plan?” She asked, voice teetering on calm and intrigue.

Calum had never shared the failed plan with her; tucked it away into the recesses of his heart and mind and left it alone with the shadows. Her question begged to bring it into stained glass light; to see the reflections of color and failure in dazzling bursts of a past that never was. Calum sucked in a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair before clearing his throat. He took in her curious and waiting eyes, the way they didn’t falter when finding his gaze and wouldn’t let go.

“I was going to make it a big thing to make up for the last attempt at a romantic gesture,” he explained and watched as recognition flickered in her eyes and turned a taut frown into an easy smirk. “I had the whole night planned. I was going to surprise you when you got home from work; but a storm brought you home early and knocked out the power. There would’ve been string lights and music and dinner. It would’ve been perfect. Instead it was what it was.”

She smiled, hand releasing and fingers relaxing as she too became immersed in a moment neither could forget.

“I thought it was perfect,” she said in a low tone, hand daring to reach for his; always being the first to cross uncharted territories and reach for the things they both wanted. He reveled in her touch and words; felt himself let go of pieces of the past. “I don’t think I could ever forget opening the door and having you immediately blurt out ‘let’s live together’ when I thought we already kinda were.”

Calum laughed through a tight throat and burning eyes. “You’re always one step ahead of me.”

“That’s the problem,” she mumbled and Calum felt those words cut through him.

Though she meant it in a way to paint a light of fault on herself Calum took it to his heart and let it glimmer against the things he felt were his fault instead. They were fine tuned to each other but always running on different circuits. She was a step ahead, a second before him, a plan to a fleeting thought. Sometimes he couldn’t keep up; not in the ways that mattered. Five words came as a revelation to them—even though they both knew it deep down it shocked them both into silence. Instead of saying something, anything, to help bring them back to the moment and the struggles they were facing—Calum falling behind as she watched with what he assumed was silent resentment—he peeled out of the parking spot and headed further into their past.

<<

The night was cold and the streets were lined with fresh snow from the small storm the night was bringing. Calum drove them away from the apartment building, past a failed attempt at a question and to a place of admission. They exited the car, tugging coats closer around them as winter wind bit at their skin. Lights that would usually flicker with life were dulled from the storm.

“Do you remember?” Calum asked into the thick silence; his body was tense and unsure, waiting for a response that could make or break him.

“Of course I remember, Cal.” She was soft spoken, voice drifting to a time long past.

Calum let out a small laugh, one that slipped through the cracks of his resolve at the absurdity of the memory. It wasn’t funny, yet he stood with her by his side, frame shaking from the guffaw that spilled out of him. “I messed it all up.”

The sentence brought Calum back to the first time they had walked through an imposing wooden door. He had showed up forty five minutes later than he should have though he was the one to pick the time. He’d been held up at the studio, been pushed back even further by the snow that began to fall from the sky. There’d been an apprehension in Calum as he had made his way towards the restaurant, he contemplated if all those mishaps had been signs. If maybe what he was going to say was better left for another day. But he had stopped short as he entered and she sat waiting; one hand was pressed to her cheek, lips puckered and patient, her hair was perfectly disheveled from the winter wind and impatience for styling and Calum’s heart skipped a beat. All the inhibitions and second thoughts melted away as she turned and caught his eye, her eyes were bright and gleaming against the lights; content to pull him in and keep him under.

“I was late. You were patient,” Calum started again, recounting the misfortunes the night had brought them. The added meaning weighing heavily in the air between them. “The waitress hit on me. You laughed it off. I hated what I ordered so you offered me your plate. They were out of dessert. You said you’d make cake at home. And when the time came for me to finally say what I should’ve said months before; I messed that up too.”

She shuffled her feet and let out a tight giggle, it was strained and Calum could hear the attempt to replace tears with laughter. She pressed the smallest bit closer to Calum and let out a breath to recollect herself before they would forge their journey onward and deeper into the past.

“You love me?” She repeated Calum’s words verbatim, only her voice had gained confidence and control after laughter that threatened to break them both. Calum’s voice had cracked and spluttered as he realized his mistake.

Calum shook his head in disbelief, breath leaving his body in a plume as it collided with the cold. “I couldn’t even tell you that I loved you right. I said ‘you love me’ instead and all you did was nod. I did it all wrong with the right person.”

She sighed, smaller than Calum had and grabbed his hand with a timid reach. “It wasn’t wrong. You did everything you could, the best you could.”

Calum shook his head solemnly, no matter how many times he thought back to that night it never sat right. No matter how many times she had reassured him it was okay it never felt like it was. He couldn’t count the times he had wished for a do-over; for a second chance at a first confession.

“It was snowing,” she spoke up, catching Calum’s attention once more with a squeeze of the hand and never wavering eye contact. “You left the studio as soon as you possibly could. Inspiration couldn’t wait—I could. You were worth every minute.”

Calum shrugged, eyes burning and throat tightening as she continued justifying a night that always sat like the weight of the world on Calum’s chest.

“You couldn’t help but be charming, it’s in your nature. It’s part of why ‘you love me’ had me nodding. I didn’t even question it. Because I did—I do. And I knew what you meant when you said it. Someday had arrived. You finally loved me too.”

Her choice of words ripped the breath from his lungs, scattered it into the cool night air and let it hang with hurt and doubt and months of guessing. He knew well before he said those words that she loved him. Could tell by the way she looked at him, by the things she did and the patience she wore on her sleeve. She was ahead of him again, waiting for him to catch up—left to wonder if he ever would. Or if he would leave her ahead, veer off course and find a new path and pass her at a parallel. He couldn’t imagine those months of uncertainty and wonder. He didn’t want to try to comprehend the pain that must have sat with her as she knew what was in her heart but questioned if the same was in his.

Calum didn’t have the right words to restore the past. He couldn’t reverse time and make himself realize what he knew all along any sooner. There would be no going back and fixing the moment; making it come before the night where nothing went right, he couldn’t change the circumstances. All he could do was tell her how he felt. Try to make up for the spaces between them and the paces he fell behind on.

“I know you say it’s all okay,” Calum began, nervously licking his lips to buy time he wasn’t sure they had and brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “But I’m sorry for how it happened.” That it didn’t happen sooner.

She nodded, expression contemplative and calm. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I wouldn’t change any of it; even if we could.” They couldn’t.

He interlocked their fingers and led them back to the car. Away from a piece of their past made of jagged edges and transparent regrets. They drove away in a somber silence, Calum dove head first and trench deep into the reasons for the complications as a winding road took them further into their past. To a place that highlighted all that was wrong and spun their emotions with whirlwinds of mistakes. To a place of the past that Calum hoped would help them heal their present and keep them together in the future.

<<

The car was parked and the headlights lit up Calum’s old house. They had spent years there together. Her place was more of a home to them but Calum’s still made way into their memories; moments burned with regrets and lessons learned. They discovered many pieces of themselves and each other within the walls of the house. It stood empty now; on the market to be sold again. Through the glare of the headlights on the windows Calum could see shadows dancing along the hardwood floor and painted walls. But all he could remember was one certain night; stepping around each other and away from their problems.

“Why did we come back here?” She asked and Calum knew the memory in his mind must have worked its way into her thoughts as well.

She was still in the seat next to him and couldn’t tear her gaze away from the house; couldn’t get her mind off the moment that almost broke them. A moment just like this night had brought them; silence and uncertainty was entangled in their past so intricately they couldn’t be forgotten. Words were left unsaid and emotions ran so high they escaped them completely.

“I don’t think we ever really worked through it,” Calum mumbled and she sighed in a knowing way. “Maybe we wouldn’t be here right now if we had. Maybe we need to now.”

Pain flashed through her eyes; nose twitching and forehead creasing as she considered his words. She nodded, hand now gripping the seatbelt as hard as his hand had gripped the wheel at the beginning of the night. Heat poured through the car but an icy feeling washed through Calum’s veins. Snow still fell in flurries outside and Calum could recall leaves drifting in the night air years ago. It wasn’t a night he wanted to remember or revive. They had brushed it away, left it in a corner of the house to be forgotten when they finally moved in together. Their problems sat abandoned in empty spaces and hollowed hearts. Digging up broken pieces of their past was a necessary pain. If they didn’t, they may never be whole again.

“It’s my fault,” she said and shocked Calum; his mouth hung open in his surprise and his body went still.

He faltered at her admission. Neither had ever taken blame for that night. They were both much too stubborn and content to let fault and blame simmer and boil between them with silence and heartache. Calum stole himself and shook his head; tried to come up with words and a way to shift her feelings but came up empty.

“I shouldn’t have—I can’t—expect you to be on the same page as me. To feel the same as me. I need to give you time.”

Calum’s chest was tight and he couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him in a painful force. He looked at her; took in her form highlighted by white winter moonlight and yellow headlights. Her eyes fluttered closed and stayed shut; pained breaths lifted her chest and shook her body. Calum shook his head, refusing to let her take the blame though he knew she couldn’t see the motion. His fingers curled into his palms and dragged across his sweatpants; hands clenching and jaw getting tight.

It had been a night of harsh words exchanged and questions going unanswered. She had wanted more than what he was giving; a promise, an inclination that they were going somewhere, anything more than what already was. More than dates Calum tried to write off as casual, more than hookups and half assurances and lingering wonder eating at her. Calum always knew she deserved more than that. Before the tears and screams and self doubt plagued them on a night when the world was too calm and quiet for such an event. She just wanted to know it was more than what she thought; or at the least that it might be someday. She only ever asked about someday.

“I shouldn’t have made you wait,” he began and knew she would jump in if he spared even a breath. He shot her a glance as her eyes opened and begged silently for her to stay quiet so he might speak his piece. “It wasn’t fair for me to want everything except commitment from our relationship. I didn’t want anyone else. I was being an idiot. Maybe I was just too scared to really have you… because if I had you I could lose you.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she soothed and reached a hand out for his, the touch punctuating the meaning of her words. “I’m still not.”

<<

The night brought them back to a memory that first defined them. A first date was now desolate in the winter weather where once it had been vibrant and abundant with life and hope. They stayed in the car this time, letting the heater keep them warm as the memory of awkward brushes of their hands and blushing cheeks made way into their thoughts. Calum knew they needed the contrast of a time so simple and sweet to the haunting memories of a fight that bit with venomous teeth. They could hear the waves lapping against jagged rocks in the distance, and took in the foreboding height of the lighthouse standing on a rocky cliff. Night clung to the sky but brightened by a roving light. Fights melted away in favor of first experiences. Heartache eased with memories of fluttering nerves and breathless conversation.

Calum tore his gaze away from the foreboding image of the roving light calling out to life and cutting through the spattering of snow the coast was receiving. The air was thick in the car but nothing compared to when a door separated them. They had ventured through the darkest parts of their story, dove head first into regrets and came up to the surface with hearts and lungs seeking breaths of relief and comfort. They found all of that within each other; in reached for hands, forgiveness and promises. With hope for a future together looming on the horizon of an ocean guarded by rocky edges and happy moments. Calum finally felt he was able to breathe without a crushing force of guilt sitting on his chest and weighing him down; without anxiety that the night might be their last.

“How long has it been since we were here?” She asked and Calum saw her eyes glossed over, highlighted by moonlight that rippled off the waves and shined when tears finally fell.

“A while,” Calum answered; fully knowing it’d been years since they first and last visited the lighthouse.

“You always said we could come back,” she reminded and quivering lips forced a smile. “I’m glad we finally could.”

Calum nodded his agreement and let a moment of silence and contemplation sit with them. It was his idea to go to the lighthouse for a first date—he tried to think outside of the usual dinner and movie first date cliche. He wanted something scenic but the likes of a picnic in the park seemed too ordinary for her. He wanted to impress but not admit the thought and effort put in; he wanted it to seem effortlessly perfect in a sense. He thought with all of himself, sometimes with too much of himself and for too long; often dubbed an over thinker, and sometimes finding it coming back to bite him. He overthought their first date and everything after that. Every moment and aspect of them. He questioned and writhed over answers that only time could give him. He realized now—with eyes on her lit up by their first date years after it happened—that he should have been living every moment with her and not questioning what the next would be.

“Should’ve been sooner,” was all Calum could say in response. A lot of things should have been sooner. “It’s hard to believe it’s been years.”

She laughed; less strained than before but still with a touch of melancholy in the rise and fall of the giggle. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and sniffled. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday… I can still remember everything.”

“Remind me; about all of it?” Calum requested; knowing he was too inside his own head to remember the finer details. He wanted to know the moment and see the memory from her point of view.

She had a way of taking things in and recalling them; words outside a closed restaurant easing Calum’s woes and instilling a sense of safety and love inside him. She let out a small sigh from the passenger seat, neck slightly craning to look out the driver’s side window and to the once grassy area just off the structure and rocky paths. She looked right past Calum but he knew she was conjuring up images of him from that day in her mind. Another small smile begged at the corners of her lips, a great contrast and compliment to the tears that had fallen moments before. She was somber and serious but her touch to his shoulder was soft and light and a reminder of all their times past.

She licked her lips and let her teeth sink into her bottom lip for just a moment. It was less peril that drove the motion and more a feeling of helpless want; a want that couldn’t be met, she couldn’t actually go back to that moment made only of happiness. Her lip sprang free and she finally turned back and caught his eye.

“It was such a nice day. The sun was out and the water was calm. I showed up and you told me you’d been waiting for me for a while; I don’t know if you actually were but I remember it got me to blush. You’ve always had this way of saying things that are so ordinary but feel so much more than that. I guess that’s why I fell so much faster than you. You never gave me time to slow down.”

Calum’s eyebrows furrowed and his mind spun. He could remember that moment and those words, in the moment they were fleeting and reactionary, a way to see her get flustered and note her reception to him. Looking back now he realized they were true; he had been waiting, in more ways than just at the lighthouse for a first date. He’d been waiting for someone like her, someone who could shatter his perception of what he had always known, challenge him and his heart. It was unfortunate she was the one to wait in the end.

“You planned everything. The view, the food, the flower you gave me,” she started to regale again, voice lost in the memory and drifting in and out of the moments they lived and were living. “It all seemed so perfect. I’d never been on a first date that had so much thought put into it.”

She saw through his facade of effortlessness and seeing the truth. He considered that might be why he could never get away with brushing off his feelings and hiding from his own heart with her. She knew him, could see through cloudy stained glass and straight to his heart. She knew before he did.

“And then it started raining,” she said through a laugh and threw her head back to the headrest of the seat. She let out a breath and let her hand trail from his shoulder and down his arm, slowing where she knew tattoos stained his skin before lacing their fingers together. “You accounted for everything—except the weather. One moment the sun was out and you were leaning in to kiss me. The next it was downpour and I was laughing against your lips.”

Calum warmed at the memory though he could almost feel the bite of unexpectedly cold summer rain against his skin. He nodded to himself as the memory broke like the storm clouds in the sky. Snow still fell in light flurries and the night was starting to fade, tinged of deep purple trying to rise on the horizon. Calum didn’t say anything else as he put the car back in drive and headed off once more. There was one last place to visit. One last memory to relive and one more question to be asked.

<<

Their last destination of the night had them climbing out of the car and tugging their jackets closer to them, standing pressed together for warmth. They parked down the block and walked through a haze of snow to familiar windows with remnants of flowers left from a season passing. This was where Calum first spotted her, through the windows in just a glimpse. He had stopped in his tracks as she disappeared in a split second. He did a double take and she came back to him; flowers in her hands and hair and a smile worn so brightly it rivaled the beauty of bouquets. It was days before they officially met and time stood still when he caught the first sight of her. He didn’t know it then, wouldn’t understand it through most of their time together, but now—stood with a night of memories floating through his mind and heart—he realized it was love at first sight.

“You came in with the worst excuse for needing a bouquet I’ve ever heard,” she mumbled and Calum laughed; knowing his reason was a thinly veiled excuse to have a conversation with her. “I forget; was it your mom or sister that ended up with it?”

Calum grinned. “I did, actually.”

There was no way he could give away a bouquet crafted by her. His shoulders slumped at the admission, finally feeling some weight lift from him; the air was cold but welcome against his heated cheeks. The snow had stopped but the biting chill of winter kept on. He wondered how she wasn’t shivering; her layers so minimal and legs completely exposed. Usually he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her and she’d sink into the material with a smirk and a blush. He never realized she wasn’t cold and she never denied the offer. Wind whistled past buildings and trees; swept through the small town and curled around them, her hair blowing back and her jacket opening. She didn’t mind the breeze or the cold at all.

Red among darkened gray and timid spatterings of white caught Calum’s eye. A fallen flower sat in the snow; petals holding on for dear life. He moved to it, bent down to pick it up and held it in a loose pinch. His eyebrows furrowed as he turned back to her and saw interest run across her face.

“A peony,” she declared and reached one hand out to softly brush her fingers over the petals. “Just like in the bouquet.”

Calum wasn’t sure what it was—the night of memories, the warmth she instilled in him with just a look, broken stained glass barriers sitting in fractured pieces, or the coincidence of a flower laid in the snow. Whatever it was, thoughts that couldn’t be ignored screamed through Calum’s mind. With a breath and a heart made of hope he fell to one knee.

“Marry me?” Calum asked, knee pressing into the cool concrete below, sweatpants dampening from the slush lining the sidewalk. The flower he had picked up was now a symbol and an offering in place of a ring he’d been eyeing through a shop window. He held the flower out to her with all of his heart and hope etched into every petal.

“No.”

Her answer was startling and sure. Voice unable to be swayed and the one word enough to knock Calum forward, body lurching into the weight of his knee and his other leg giving, foot slipping on the sidewalk as he fell to both of his knees. Flower in his hand dropping to the ground.

“No,” she continued and the repeated word struck another chord deep in Calum’s heart. She bent down, settled with bare knees on the concrete to be directly in front of Calum. Gentle fingertips brushed through his hair and trailed along his jawline. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” he repeated and was unsure if it was a question or an agreement.

She nodded, eyes glossy and shining against minimal light of new day. “Someday. When we’re both completely ready.”

“What if I am ready?” Calum asked before he knew if he was. Dropping to one knee and two words escaping him had been rash and not at all the way he might have planned it. Nothing had ever gone as he had planned.

“What if I’m not?” She wondered aloud and inched closer to him; trying her best to communicate without words.

“You’re not?”

“Maybe… I don’t know yet.”

“Isn’t that what the fight was all about?” Calum whispered with strained breath and burning eyes. “I thought you wanted this. You’re always a step ahead of me. You always lead. I thought I should this time.”

“Cal, I never expected a proposal. I just wanted to know if we want the same things. When we’re both ready. I just needed...” she trailed off and her nose scrunched as she contemplated the right word. “A solid answer. Something other than a maybe; to know if we were walking the same path—together. I just wanted to know if you wanted it to happen someday.”

“It will,” Calum promised, content to be the one to wait this time. A reverse revival of their love told him it would be worth it. “You love me?”

“You know I do. And I know you love me too.”

<<

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[cryhardanddanceharder]

Happy holidays Abby @moonlightandromache I’m your andromaquynh secret santa and this next one shot is my gift for you. I tried mixing what i know you like, soulmate and mermaid combo. I hope you like it ♥

Also, thank you @lilolilyr for being my beta in this and helping me with my english ☺ And thank you @thirst-teenth for organizing this!

_____

An ocean between our love (it won’t keep us apart)

All mermaids, mermen and tritons are immortal and have a soulmate. 

Yes, mer folks are not just a myth, they are real. Quynh knows this because she is a mermaid. 

Since she was little she had been hearing stories about soulmates. How you would feel your soulmate’s injuries like they were your own and how you would dream of each other.

She started dreaming of her soulmate when she was fourteen years old. 

But, the thing about her soulmate it’s that she’s different. She is a human, a mortal. Because of this, many of the other mers often made fun of her. How would it be possible for a human and a mermaid to be together? 

“How does it feel to know your soulmate?” She asks her friends.

“It’s the best thing that can happen to you” Nicky tells her honestly. 

“There’s no one who could understand you or love you more, you just connect” Joe says, looking at Nicky with heart eyes.

“Look at us” Nicky says proudly. “We came for families who hated each other, and still our love prevailed” He explains.

She doesn’t need the explanation though, she had heard the story too many times. They are lucky, they’ve been together since forever. Just like Nile, Dizzy and Jay. 

All her friends had met their soulmate already and that kinda hurts. She knows it’s probably impossible for her to ever meet her own soulmate. She likes dreaming about her, but feeling her injuries not so much, because it worries her. Her soulmate is a warrior, so she always has something in her body that it’s hurting. And she could use a lot of words to describe her, like beautiful, brave and kind. And also loyal, smart and strong.

“You know there’s the story of this merman who had a human soulmate just like you?” Nile asks her, bringing her attention back to the present.

“Yes, I think I heard about him, but I thought it was just a legend” She answers thoughtfully. 

“Well Jay knows him, I can take you to meet him so you can talk and share your feelings” Nile suggests. 

“That would be great” She accepts. 

No one had ever told her that Booker’s story was real. So, she’s excited that she is going to meet him. Maybe he could tell her how to find her soulmate. Her family never helped her with that topic, not since she told them that her soulmate is a human. It’s like most mers think that she must be cursed or something similar, because isn’t a mermaid like them.

Booker it’s bitter and he is drunk. But he let’s her speak and he tells her stories about Lykon, his soulmate. 

“So you never met him?” She asks, feeling heartbroken.

“No, he died many years ago” Booker answers sadly. 

“But, you only have one soulmate in your life” She expresses her agony.

“I know” He nods.

“How do you keep living without it?” She asks, her voice breaking.

“I’m not sure I do” He says, using his cup to toast for him.

After that conversation, Quynh is left feeling entirely wrecked. How is she supposed to live her immortal life knowing her soulmate is going to die someday? 

She tries to hang on to the dreams of her soulmate, to pay attention to where she is so she can look for her. But she’s always on land and there’s never a beach near her.

And then, the day she has been fearing comes. Her soulmate dies. She’s been betrayed by her own people and they killed her with spears in battle.

“Are you okay?” Joe asks her, very worried because she has been in agony, shouting and sobbing for long minutes.

“My soulmate, she died” She answers with tears in her eyes, unable to say anything else.

She starts feeling the heartbreak of reality hit her as the worst pain she ever felt in her life.

She’s devastated and suddenly breaks down crying in full force.

Joe hugs her and holds her in his arms until she falls asleep. 

But, something she hasn’t been expecting happens. Her soulmate comes back to life. Her injuries are gone and there’s no more pain. At first she thinks she might be imagining it, but then she dreams about her again. And she is alright, she is alive and she is as strong as ever. 

After that, Quynh dares to hope again. If her soulmate is immortal, then maybe they can finally meet someday. And now the injuries are temporary. She only feels pain for a short time. Still, feeling her die is the most painful thing she has ever felt... and her soulmate dies a lot of times.

Quynh starts traveling all the oceans, trying to find her. Joe, Nicky, Nile, Dizzy, Jay and Booker decide to go with her, to help her in her search. 

But years and years keep passing by, and they still never find her soulmate. 

All she learns in her search is that her soulmate's name is Andromache and she is the best human warrior that has ever existed. Even mer folks start telling stories about her at some point, because they like telling human stories. All the stories about Andromache are about her battles, about how she’s special because of her immortality, how she’s always fighting for what she thinks it’s right and trying to help people. 

She wonders if her soulmate dreams of her too, if she ever thinks of her and if she ever tries looking for her.

But hundreds of years keep passing and they never meet each other. All Quynh feels is emptiness and loneliness. Yes, her soulmate is alive and is immortal, but she’s still human and they don’t have any chance of being together. And that hurts.

She starts feeling that her family is right. To have a human soulmate it’s a curse. 

So, she decides to give up. She stops the search. 

And then, suddenly, another unexpected thing happens that changes everything once again. Her soulmate is drowning. And not just for once, it’s constantly. Quynh is in permanent agony for her. Feeling her dying all the time is exhausting. How is it possible? And then, she dreams of her again and she finally understands. Andromache is trapped in an iron coffin at the bottom of the ocean. How the hell did that happen? 

“Quynh, we heard the stories about Andromache” Nicky informs her.

“What stories?” She requests to know. 

“The new ones” Nicky answers.

“How can there be new stories when she’s constantly drowning?” She asks, confused.

“Because they are about that” Joe replies. “Apparently she was in England, saving women from witch hunts. Finally the people from church trapped her and sentenced her to die, so they hanged her.” He explains calmly.

“Because she couldn’t die, they took it as proof of her being a witch” Nicky intervenes, feeling that it’s an important fact.

“Yes” Joe agrees with him. “So, they locked her in an iron coffin and threw her to the sea” He ends the tale. 

“I need to find her. She’s drowning and suffering constantly, I can’t take it” She expresses her feelings, she always feels safe doing so with them.

“We should start with the North Sea, the Celtic Sea and the Atlantic Ocean; those are the ones that surround England” Nicky suggests.

So, that’s what they do. They travel those seas, looking for her. 

It takes them almost one hundred years, but they finally do. They find the iron coffin in a part of the Norway Sea and all she can feel is relief. They prey open the coffin and, finally, Andromache is free and right in front of Quynh. 

When she comes alive she looks scared and ready to fight. She starts hitting them until she drowns again. 

Quynh grabs her and takes her to the superface. In the time it takes her to get her to superface, Andromache drowns three more times. But those times she doesn’t fight her. It is as she recognises Quynh, her presence helping her to relax even when she dies again.

“Hey” She greets her, once their faces are above the ocean and the other has revived.

“You’re the mermaid of my dreams” Andromache says, looking at her with an astonished expression. 

 “I am” She agrees. “My name is Quynh” She introduces herself.

“I thought mermaids were a myth” Andromache says, still staring at her, like she can’t believe she’s real.

“I thought immortal humans were a myth, too” She bites back and Andromache laughs. Damm, her laugh sounds so beautiful.

“Touche” Andromache accepts. “I’m Andromache the Scythian” She finally introduces herself. 

“I know” Quynh nods with a knowing smile. 

Andromache suddenly starts coughing and spitting salt water from her mouth, and that scares her. Quyn realises in that moment that she should have tried giving her mouth to mouth breathing like she heard in some tales about humans, instead of letting her die.

“I should have given you mouth-to-mouth breathing” She says, thinking out loud.

“What?” Andromache asks, confused.

“While I brought you to the superface, I should have given you mouth-to-mouth instead of letting you drown” She explains, in an apologizing way. 

“Don’t worry about it” Andromache dismisses it, like it is not a big deal. “Don’t feel bad, it was just what? Three more deaths? You did save after all” She expresses her opinion. 

It seems like her humor is a little dark and Quynh finds it endearing.

Andromache coughs again. She probably needs clean water and food after spending so many years without having anything. 

“Come on, you must be exhausted, I’ll take you to shore” She proposes. 

So Andromache climbs on her back and Quynh starts to swims. Quynh does it carefully, making sure to never dive deep so Andromache can keep breathing. It’s a hard and tiring task, it takes her a long time of the day, but the effort it’s worth it if it means her soulmate is safe. She takes her to the nearest desert beach. She leaves her on the shore, and then gets ready to go back to the depth of the ocean.

“Wait, please wait” Andromache calls her, when she realizes the other is starting to move away.

“What?” Quynh asks.

“Can I see you again?” Andromache requests.

“Why?” She asks, surprised about the request.

“Well, we dream about each other. I think that must mean something” Andromache tries to explain her point of view. “Don’t you want to figure it out?” She asks.

“Are you sure you want to see me again? Aren’t you scared of mermaids? l thought humans tell stories about us hypnotizing people with our singing and drowning them” She says, a little unsure about the situation.

“That’s sirens, not mermaids” Andromache corrects her. “What about you? Aren’t you scared of me? I’m the eternal warrior. There was a time I even was worshiped as god, you know?” She questions, in some kind of teasing way. 

“No, I’m not scared” She denies.

“Then prove it” Andromache challenges her.

“Fine, we can try” She accepts.

So they try…

Andromache builds herself a house on the beach. They see each other on every sunrise and every sunset. The rest of the day they continue with their normal lives. 

Quynh hadn’t thought it was possible to love Andromache more than she already did… But she starts realising she was very wrong. Spending time with Andromache is the best thing that has ever happened to her and she starts falling deeply in love with her, certain that she would love her even if they hadn’t been soulmates. She loves her with every fiber of her being, in every possible way.

Every moment they spend together is magical.

Like when Andromache teached her arching. 

“What is this?” She asks, looking at the objects the other is holding in her hands with wonder. She knows them, she has seen humans using them before, but she doesn’t remember their names.

“Bows and arrows, I'm going to teach you archery” Andromache answers her.

“You are?” She asks, surprised.

“Well you said you didn’t find sword fighting that much fun, so i thought maybe you would like to try something new” Andromache explains her idea.

“How am I supposed to do this when I can’t stand up like you?” She requests to know, still unsure about the idea.

“You do it sitting down” Andromache says with confidence.

Andromache spends all morning teaching her, until she can hit a target. She has to admit it was really fun. And some days, after practicing a lot, she learns to love it.

Another magical but unexpected moment, it’s when Andromache asks her to cut her hair.

“Are you sure?” Quynh asks, picking up the scissors nervously.

“I am” Andromache nods.

“Why do you want to cut it?” She needs to know, because she doesn’t want to do something the other may regret later.

“I’m tired of it, it’s so heavy and impractical. I want a change” Andromache expresses the reason for her choice.

“Fine” She finally  agrees. “But if you don’t like it, I won't take complains” She warns.

Quynh cuts her hair in the way the other has requests. When she finishes she’s astounded by how the hairstyle looks on the other. She’s so breathtakingly beautiful. She encourages herself and plays with it a little.

Another wonderful moment is their first kiss.

“I have a gift for you” Andromache tells her, with a smile on her face.

“What? Why?” Quynh asks, confused.

“Because you said that today it’s your birthday” Andromache reminds her.

“Ohhh…” She has forgotten humans have the habit of giving each other presents for birthdays, when for mer folks the habit was the other way around.

“Close your eyes” Andromache requests. “Do you trust me?” She asks, after they spend a long minute staring at each other.

“Yes” She nods.

“Then close your eyes” She repeats.

Quynh closes her eyes and waits for her present. Suddenly she can feel Andromache very near, invading her personal space. She takes a moment caressing her shoulders, her neck and her cheeks. And then, she is kissing her. 

Kissing Andromache is incredibly magnificent. It’s as if their lips were made just to be kissed by each other. It’s like they already know their moves, their tastes and what they like. It’s like breathing air for the first time. 

Another splendid moment is when she calls her “Andy” for the first time. 

“What?” She asks a little annoyed, the other has been staring at her for like a whole minute and never continues the conversation they were having.

“You called me Andy” Andromache finally says.

“Ohh, it’s just a nickname, like in a affectionate way” She tries to explain. “If you don’t like it…” 

“No” Andromache interrupts her very quickly. “I like it, you can call me Andy wherever you want” She assures. 

So she starts calling her Andy after that.

And so time goes by. And before they know they have spent decade after decade doing this, being together and apart in this way.

But, of course one day it has to come to an end. She should have known, she should have been ready… After all, how could it be possible for a human and a mermaid to be together forever?

“Have you ever heard of a goddess called Atargatis?” Andromache asks her.

“Her name seems familiar, but I don’t think so” Quynh denies. 

“Well, legends say she was the first mermaid. She’s a goddess of love and female fertility. They said that there’s an oasis in the middle of Sham desert where there is a temple for her and whoever is brave enough to sacrifice themselves in the search of it, the goddess would grant them a wish” Andromache relates her the story.

“I thought you didn’t believe in gods or goddesses” She says, surprised about the type of conversation. 

“Well maybe it’s time I do, so we can be together” Andromache tells her. 

“What do you mean?” She asks, confused.

“I can go there, I can sacrifice myself in the search because I’m immortal, I can wish for us to have a way to be really together” Andromache explains to her what she has been planning.

“I don’t think that’s smart, for you to go there alone” She expresses her disapproval. “What if you got hurt, or the goddess wants to remove your immortality as payment or is just not real?” She asks, not wanting to get excited about what it could mean. 

“But what if it’s real? Don’t you think we are worth trying it?” Andromache questions her. 

“I don’t know” She says sadly. “Don’t you think we are already good as we are?” She asks, fearing the negative possibility. 

“We are good” Andromache assures her. “But we could be better, we could be together forever, every time of the day, with nothing keeping us apart” She insists.

“I…” She doesn’t know what to say. The idea of not seeing Andromache for the time it takes her to do the quest hurts too much. “Andy don’t go” She asks.

“I have to. You may not believe our love is strong enough to survive this, but i do.” Andromache argues, very stubbornly. “Once I finish the quest, I’ll come back here.” She promises her.

Andromache gives her a kiss and then she’s gone.

Quynh is scared she won’t ever see her again and doesn’t know what to do without her. But at sunrise, Andromache is there, at the beach, once again.

“I thought you had left” Quynh tells her.

“I packed my things, but I wanted to say goodbye first” Andromache explains to her.

“Do you really have to go?” She asks, sadly.

“I do, this may be our only chance” Andromache answers. “I need you to trust me” She requests. 

“I do trust you” She assures her. “But, I don’t want to be apart from you” She expresses what troubles her.

“I don’t want to be apart from you either, that’s why I have to do this” Andromache insists, believing her decision is the best option they have. “I’m gonna be back as quick as I can” She promises her. 

Andromache gives her a long kiss goodbye. One that tastes like salt because of their tears. Is bittersweet and leaves her wanting more, but she lets her go.

All Quynh can do is wait. She waits and goes to their beach on every sunrise and every sunset, waiting for Andromache to come back.

While she waits she realises she’s scared. She fears Andy would find a mortal who would love her in all the ways she can’t. She fears Andy would die a lot of times and would suffer alone. She fears Andy could lose her immortality. 

Another thought creeping into her mind is that Andy might not really accept her the way she is and will try to take away her mermaid form... she knows that Andy might want to join her in the sea instead, and she doesn’t believe that her love would change her without asking her first, but she can’t silence the thoughts entirely.

She dreams of her and with every dream her fears turn off a little. Andy is really strong and she is trying to do this for them.

She dies five times in the desert. But like she sayed, it doesn’t totally matter. Not when she comes back to life again every time. 

It takes a year… And then, finally, Andy is back, at sunset time. She jumps directly into the sea and greets her with a passionate kiss. 

“Hey” Andromache says quietly, pressing soft kisses to her neck.

“Hey” Quynh says back. 

“I love you Quynh” Andromache confesses, looking right to her eyes. 

Andy loves her and knowing it makes her the happiest she’s ever been in her long life.

“I love you too Andy” She says, exploding with happiness and love. “I’m glad you are back” She admits, feeling relieved to be in the arms of the other woman again.

“Did you ever doubt I would?” Andromache asks, kinda teasing her.

“Maybe a little” She answers honestly. “So? How did the quest go?” She finally asks the important topic. 

“Well, I found the oasis, and the goddess conceived my wish” Andromache answers her, looking her intensely in her eyes. “You know why?” She asks.

“Because you gave your life founding the oasis” She answers, remembering the tale Andy had told her before going on the quest.

“Yes” Andromache nods. “And because apparently we are soulmates” She adds, looking at her intensely as she was trying to read her.

“Ah, that...” She trails off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Andromache asks curiously, without judging her. 

“Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to love me just because we’re soulmates” She answers genuinely, thinking it sounds a little silly now that she’s saying it out loud. 

“It would be impossible for me not to love you” Andromache tells her with so much confidence, that she believes her in every part of herself.

“So… how does the wish work?” She asks, bringing the conversation to that topic because she doesn’t want to get emotional.

Andromache looks at her with a tender smile, and then removes the pendant she’s wearing around her neck and gives it to her. 

“What does it mean?” She asks confused, checking the pendant.

“It’s a magic amulet, it’s made from cintamani and it grants a wish to whoever wears it” Andromache explains to her.

“What the wish would be?” She requests to know, still a little unsure.

“Well, I think it obvious, for the one of us who is wearing it at the moment to have legs on land and mermaid form on sea” Andromache tells her with confidence.

“You don’t want me to stop being a mermaid?” She asks, really surprised.

“No, of courte not, I love everything about you” Andromache assures her. “I just want the chance for us to be together” She adds, caressing her cheeks. 

Quynh kisses her. She hasn't thought it would be possible for her to love this woman more, but every time she thinks that, she is quickly proven wrong. It feels like everything Andromache does, it just makes her love her more and more. 

She feels so happy. She doesn’t know how to contain all those feelings in her body, so she just shows them. She kisses and caresses every part of Andromache’s body. 

When she feels satisfied, she puts the pendant around her neck. Then she grabs Andromache’s hand, so they can get out of the water. 

The first time she feels her legs is very strange, and she would have fallen if it wasn't for Andromache’s grip on her. 

Andromache teaches her to walk, takes her to all her favorite places and shows her everything about the mortal human world. Then they travel around the world together, meeting new places and sharing their love.

In return, Quynh shows her all the magical places and fantastic treasures the ocean hides in its depths. She teaches her to swim in her mermaid form and do different pirouettes. Also she introduces her to her friends and family.

Andromache has been right. To be together this way is even more wonderful. Thanks to the amulet Quynh can have human form at land and Andromache can have mermaid form at sea. This way they can share both of their worlds and always be together. 

So, yes. Maybe it is hard for someone like her, a mermaid, to have a human soulmate. But it is not impossible. They had found their way to be together and now they will be for all their eternal lives.

You can read it in ao3 too: here

[dwellordream]

Hey, I don't know if you are in the mood for such frippery, but would you do a director's cut on chapter 69? That is one of my most reread chapters of h/h, and not simply because Nell and Harry are arguing in church.

It’s been a long time since I did one, but I can try:

Nell starts off the chapter believing the Neck’s mystical reputation and location as the entry to the North is responsible for the return of her cryptic dreams.

She attempts to rationalize her old dreams of her mother and Sara Snow by telling herself it was just the subconscious manifestation of her insecurities and fears and guilt over her childhood, and also tries to dismiss the creeping sense that Robb and Grey Wind were linked from the very start, in a supernatural manner.

She also expresses worries and fears over the fact that Robb’s health has not improved during their travel north, and he and Grey Wind continue to avoid each other, whatever bond they had mangled. Meanwhile, Harry has confided in her his fears that they will start losing large numbers of men to desertion, as they enter the North and with the winter weather only worsening.

Nell acknowledges Harry’s more practical concerns but admits all she can focus on is getting Lysara back, and then goes into her latest nightmare. While pregnant she dreamed of a son leading her through a peaceful, sunny Riverrun. Now she’s left Riverrun, perhaps permanently, and dreams of an older Lysara leading her through the dungeons of the Dreadfort, the exact inversion of her old hopeful dreams.

Nell acknowledges that they are down in the crypts near her dead siblings, and is alarmed when Lysara runs ahead, leading her straight to a flayed figure. Nell initially believes the person is Bethany, then realizes in horror that it’s actually herself, comforting Lysara. Nell reacts furiously to her almost-dead self, commanding the figure to release Lysara; instead the flayed Nell begins to strangle her own child.

On the one hand, this dream expresses a very literal fear of her own father and brother; if captured by them her fate is likely to be gruesome. On the other hand, this dream also reflects Nell’s childhood dread of her home- the place she should have felt safe, but never did- and the lost potential of a home with Robb and Lysara, as well as guilt over losing her daughter and blaming herself for the possibility of Lysara’s death.

It also acknowledges that Nell would rather Lysara be dead than grow up abused and terrified of Roose and Ramsay, something she cannot admit in real life, that she would rather Lysara have a quick death than a lifetime of suffering.

Upon waking angrily, Nell rejects her Bolton heritage and the Dreadfort’s claim on her once again, thinking that her only pride was always in her mother’s legacy, not her father’s. She trues to convince herself Lysara must be alive and unharmed, but admits she never believed Roose would betray and murder Robb, either.

Nell reflects on the crannogmen’s isolated existence; like the mountain clans they prefer to marry amongst themselves, as their insular, hard lifestyle is very hard for most outsiders, even fellow northerners, to adjust to.

Arden Greengood shows up to inform them that his father Karl Greengood has notified Greywater Watch, who is coming to them, rather than them trying to find it. Now the army just has to wait, not exactly a comfortable experience in the middle of the swamps and marsh.

Arya feels suffocated because she doesn’t have any child companions since Harry sent him back south to Starfall, judging the travel north too dangerous for Edric and that his aunt Allyria must be worried sick about him. Nell is sympathetic but unwilling to let Arya wander, after having just reunited her with her mother.

Nell also knows that Oldtown is in danger from Euron’s fleet, but is privately relieved the Ironborn are not trying to attack the North again for the time being.

Arya expressed worry for the former household of Winterfell, and wants to rescue whoever is still alive, remembering them all by name, to Nell’s surprise. There also seems to be a massive wolf pack following the army north, though Nell doesn’t connect them to Arya.

Nell wants to sacrifice a goat to the old gods for their continued safety as they travel north. She is unnerved by Robb’s disinterest and refusal to participate, not because he disagrees with sacrifice but because he is now apathetic towards the gods, and frightens Nell by telling her he didn’t feel them when he died, or like he was going to any kind of afterlife. He only felt the painful, horrifying sensation of his soul being unwillingly forced back into his corpse.

Nell argues that the gods meant to help them by returning Robb to her, and that they must have some great purpose for him. Robb denies this, and reacts angrily, telling her he doesn’t feel or think all the things she believes he should. He remembers he loves her, but that’s it, and blames himself for being ‘weak’ and not seeing the betrayal coming, which Nell rejects, calling himself a failure.

He reviled the fear he felt when Roose killed him, and tells Nell he no longer fears, so he won’t fail again. He wants her to give the goat to Grey Wind to eat instead, as hunger is one of the few things that matters to him anymore. Nell is distraught and refuses, telling him to go see Catelyn, who still loves him, even if she is afraid.

We then get to the infamous godswood scene. The godswood in the neck are all tiny islands and islets, not proper sprawling gardens. The baby goat obliviously accompanies Nell, and when she kills it she almost breaks down into tears at its trusting innocence. Despite this, Nell still arranges its entrails and prays, hoping the slaughter of the innocent goat will appease the gods, who, ironically, she views as hungry and unfeeling as Robb himself.

Harry then shows up to interrupt her alone time, much to her annoyance. They speak about the coming fight for Moat Cailin and he warns her that the North may not automatically flock back to Robb’s cause, and that Barbrey may sell them out. Nell is infuriated and insists Barbrey is only going along with Roose to protect Lysara, while Harry warns her not to depend on House Dustin or Ryswell for support, especially after the execution of her uncle.

This then devolves into a general fight over Robb. Harry flat out tells her Robb is dead, never getting better, and that most people know it. He also insinuates that while Robb can still fight, he could never rule as king again after this. Nell is incensed and accuses Harry of speaking treason, which he ignores, insisting she is in denial. He also accuses Robb of being a warg, which Nell takes as him calling Robb a heartless monster.

Nell calls him a power hungry fool blinded by his own fear, which be explodes at, reminding her that he helped get them this far in the first place, and reunited Arya with her family. If he wanted power he could have easily killed Robb (again) and left Nell to her fate. This is somewhat ironic as we later find out that Harry almost did kill Robb when he was being revived.

He reminds Nell that his family line descends from the Starks and that they want the same thing, while Nell realizes, despite her fury, that he is isn’t lying or trying to manipulate her. She almost feels she can read him better than she can Robb, which frightens her. This sense of intimacy with Harry is disturbing as Robb slips further and further from her.

Finally, Nell admits that Robb may not be able to rule after they take back Winterfell, but won’t consider what might happen to him, just insists that Lysara is still his heir and will someday be queen. She wants Lysara to be loved and respected, even if the North never loves Nell herself as her family’s actions.

Harry admits she will never be publicly loved, but points out the first Starks were not loved after conquering the North, either, even though they viewed their actions, like all conquerors, as part of the greater good. However the Stark name is still beloved now, even though they were hated by many at the start of their dynasty.

Harry warns her again against putting her faith in Robb’s rule, and that’s that.

Nell admits that what she and Harry just discussed was treason, and that she can no longer confide in Robb. He has no more room for nuance or understanding of these things and would kill Harry immediately. She also finally admits to herself that he is actively dying. Despite her desperate prayers, they will never live a long and happy life together, even if they get their daughter back. She is going to lose him again, and doesn’t know if she can go through the grief again.

Lying awake with Robb that night, he surprises her by asking about the color of Lysara’s eyes. Nell admits sadly that she doesn’t know, it’s been so long. Ruefully she asks what color he’d prefer, which he can’t answer. They fall asleep together dwelling on their loss, and in the morning Greywater Watch arrives.

[secret-engima]

Cloud Strife reborn as Prompto argentum???

*ancient plunny revives with a scream* *I slam the lid back down on it with a surprised screech*

WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME. BUCKLE UP WE’RE GETTING A FREAKING FICLET.

-Cloud Strife dies, old and ... contented for the most part. He’s lived a good life. Not an easy one, or even a kind one, but ... good. He dies and he slides into the Lifestream, and Zack and Aerith welcome him with open arms.

-And for a very, very long time, he drifts. He is ... partially aware of the world beyond the Lifestream, but he mostly doesn’t care. He did his part, saved it more than a few times, he’s earned his rest.

-Zack and Aerith like to keep an eye on the world though, partly out of curiosity and partly out of care, and they keep him apprised of certain things. Of Minerva raising new Guardians of the world via the Summons, assigning some to guard the Star from threats from beyond, some as Messengers who function much like old Summons. They tell him about the rise and fall of a civilization called Solheim and Cloud mourns a little at the rush of new residents in the Lifestream that follows Ifrit’s wrath.

-Then Aerith comes to him and tells him-

-That Ifrit went too far. His anger runs too deep. It’s ... done something. Jenova is dead and gone, but some of her taint lingered in the scars of the world and Ifrit’s anger FUSED with those old wisps to birth something new. Something terrible. Something called the Starscourge.

-And Cloud gets a nasty feeling that his time of rest is coming to an end.

-Still, he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t want to. But now he takes to watching occasionally with Zack and Aerith as the Astrals struggle to stop what one of their own created, as Bahamut crafts a mighty Crystal, a direct conduit to the power of the Lifestream and all the old magics that used to be found freely in Materia but that Gaia had long ago pulled back for fear of humanity’s abuse. Bahamut tracks down two families, one descended of Tifa’s children, blue eyed and black haired and Stubborn, another descended of Genesis of all people, skilled in magic and poets at heart. Bahamut blesses them with magic and tells them they will save the world.

-Cloud watches in spurts and flickers, dropping into awareness every century or so. The two family lines have no yet cured the Scourge, the taint still spreads, inch by inch and victim by victim.

-Aerith cries her heart out when Ardyn is born, and rises, and falls. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR for another to suffer like this. Ardyn was as close to an Ancient as could ever be and he tried so HARD, but he was too immature in his magic, he didn’t have the same knowledge that Aerith or even Zack and Cloud had about magic and so he was infected. But his magic was too strong to let him die from it.

-Cloud goes and yells at Minerva with Zack a little bit, and she looks at them wearily and explains she CAN’T do anything. Gaia has given the world of the living to the Astrals. Minerva can no longer directly interfere and Bahamut refuses to listen.

-And time continues to unspool. Bahamut has bound Gaia (now called Eos) to a Prophecy and all they can do is watch it play out.

-Unless...

-Titan comes to them in secret, without Bahamut’s knowledge or permission. Titan is of Earth and the Earth is of the Lifestream, he is the closest still to being the Titan of old, the closest to memories of when Eos was Gaia and Gaia had Champions. Titan is a patience creature, but not unkind. He, unlike the others, has remained awake and part of the world after catching the great Meteor, has seen humans struggle and live and love and die. He remembers the old Champions... and so he asks.

-One more time?

-Cloud is tired just thinking about it. He is not a hero, not in his own eyes, he is just a screwup, an experiment gone wrong and broken free of its strings. But he loves his friends, and the people who are descended of Tifa and Genesis and all his old companions. He loves the world still and most of all ... he loves Aerith and Zack. His brother and sister of heart. So when Aerith and Zack step forward to accept Titan’s plan, what can Cloud do but quietly step forward as well and offer to fight one more time?

-Titan thanks them, and he and Minerva make a plan. Already time is drawing short. They cannot simply DO THIS and hope for the best, they must place them where they have the most chance of changing things. Titan and Minerva settle on an idea and Minerva apologizes to Cloud, specifically.

-Cloud is pulled under before he can ask why. And for a long time that is the last he knows.

-Awareness comes back in flickers and spurts and the feel of bubbling green liquid on his skin. Sight comes diluted by the water of a tank.

-Cloud emerges from his tank screaming and thrashing, and the men in white coats take note of his unusual energy and reactions to the first of the Scourge treatments.

-Cloud feels the Scourge slide into his veins like an old, hated friend and screams louder, but magic is soul and soul is magic and Cloud’s soul has already battled something far worse than this diluted, spiteful plague. It consumes the Scourge in his veins, twists it into familiar channels and patterns that will someday make Cloud unnaturally strong and fast and keen of senses despite his scrawny frame and normal appearance.

-For now though, Cloud shivers in his sparks of fragile awareness and hates that he ever agreed to this.

-Of course he was reborn in a FREAKING LABORATORY.

-Cloud isn’t sure how long he stays in the lab, fading from awareness only to launch back to the forefront of the infantile mind this body has in fits and spurts. Just that it’s too long. Long enough for the men to mark him like a candy bar, long enough for them to pump gallon after gallon of Scourge in his veins and take confused notes when his body absorbs it and twists it into something different out of self-defense.

-He wakes up at one point to hear someone shuffling around the lab they moved him into. Someone with a different tread from the guards and the scientists. Cloud whines despite himself, flails with frustrating tiny limbs as a strange face appears above his sealed not-crib. Ice blue eyes look into Cloud’s, and Cloud knows in an instant this man is not of the lab. This man is dressed wrong, moves wrong, FEELS like he doesn’t belong, like there is a star pulsing softly under his skin.

-Cloud reaches for the man with another whine he can’t help and starts crying silently because Stupid Baby Instincts.

-He’s honestly surprised when the man blinks twice, sighs at the ceiling and mutters over his own idiocy, and then breaks open Cloud’s not-crib container. Alarms screech in his overly sensitive ears as the man clumsily hefts Cloud’s tiny infant self into his arms and RUNS. Cloud has never been so grateful for another person’s recklessness in his entire life.

-The man runs and hides and carts him what feels like halfway across the world, bumbling through childcare in a way that Cloud is pretty sure a normal baby wouldn’t have survived. Cloud is probably JUST shy of a year old when the man stumbles into a city that is coated with magic and makes his way to a huge building that practically THROBS with magic in a way that makes Cloud’s baby skin crawl and the not-Scourge in his blood shiver.

-The man is apparently named Cor, at least according to the other two men who yell that name as he stumbles into a private study with Cloud wrapped in his tattered jacket. Cloud can’t stop his tiny baby body from bursting into tears at the yelling (sound was too-loud-TOOLOUDMAKEITSTOP) and the dead, stunned silence is almost gratifying.

-“I couldn’t leave him,” Cor rasps to the other two men as they tentatively inspect Cloud, “I just- the things they were DOING to him, Regis. The things in the reports- I couldn’t leave him.”

-“Well you can’t keep him,” protests one of the men as the other holds out a finger for Cloud to hold and coos, “Niflheim will become suspicious. Especially since the boy looks nothing like you.”

-“I’m not killing him,” Cor SNARLS, holding Cloud too tightly to be comfortable. Both men raise their hands placatingly and promise that was NOT what they were implying.

-They end up giving Cloud away after having their doctors poke and prod and confirm he’s not infected with anything (how they miss the not-Scourge in his veins Cloud will never know). Cloud can’t stop himself from clinging to Cor when the man gives him away, because Cor might not have a clue how to raise a kid, but Cor was kind and SAFE and Cloud didn’t want to him to leave.

-But leave the man does. And the couple takes him home. They name him Prompto Argentum.

-And for a long time after that, Cloud is all alone.

-Oh they take care of his physical needs, and they are affectionate for a while, but they are busy people, and Cloud is too mature and strange, and so they slowly drift away.

-Cloud tells himself it’s fine. He can use the alone time to study at his true mental level rather than baby books and he can train his body to keep up with the burning, roiling power in his veins from the Not-Scourge that has given him skills and abilities dangerously similar to what he had post-Hojo. He tells himself that it’s fine as he looks for Zack and Aerith in the faces of every child and adult he meets and finds nothing. He tells himself it’s fine.

-The part of him that remembers raising Denzel, the part that held Tifa close when her beau left her after she refused to get rid of the child growing insider her and then helped her raise that child as if he was the father even when he wasn’t, knows it’s not.

-Cloud watches the news for word of Cor and wonders if the man knows (or would care) that the baby he saved is growing up raising HIMSELF rather than being loved and doted on as the couple promised.

-He avoids the children at school. One because he is mentally much older, and two because he can feel his SOLDIER strength coming back to him every passing year, fed to him through the gate opened by the Not-Scourge in his blood and the dreams Minerva sends him, promising that he will not be alone forever.

-He avoids the children for their own safety in case he has a panic attack about the labs of either lifetime and the things that were done to him.

-He avoids.

-Until one day, when Cloud is seven years old and has hidden himself in the farthest corner of the playground possible to get away from the too-loud noise of gossiping children on his too-sensitive ears, the new student the teachers mentioned (that Cloud hadn’t paid attention to) tromps up, squats down next to him and holds out a hand, “Hey,” he whispers as if he knows that Cloud is having a sensory overload day, “My name’s Noctis. Wanna be friends?”

-Cloud stares at blue, blue eyes the color of the sky, feels magic already wrapping around him in a boisterous sort of invisible hug and feels tears well up, “P-prompto.”

-The boy grins at him, bright as the sun in a way that almost hides the age in his eyes, “Hmmm, that’s a cool name and all, but I’m gonna give you a nickname. How about ... Cloud?”

-And Cloud knows.

-“Zack!” He wheezes as he lunges forward to catch his friend in a hug that is returned with equal desperation.

-“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Sorry I took so long to find you.”

-Noctis (Zack) and Prompto (Cloud) are inseparable from that point on. Zack drags Cloud to his limo after school and Cloud has no issues coming over for a sleepover that he knows is probably not going to end until they hit their age of majority. The other boy in the back seat (Ignis) eyes Cloud warily, but then smiles and welcomes him.

-Once at Zack’s house (the freaking Citadel, so much for being a simple country boy), Zack and Cloud cry their eyes out and plan and acknowledge that Minerva and Titan needed kicks in the teeth for making Zack be reborn as the CHOSEN KING. Now they just need to find Aerith.

-“Betcha she’s the Oracle” Cloud says as he sprawls on the sinfully fluffy carpet and glares at the ceiling.

-Zack whines because his wife is so far away!!

-Cloud thinks Regis chokes on his wine a little bit when Zack drags Cloud to dinner and introduces him by his “official” name. Cloud wonders if Regis remembers the tiny infant he made Cor give away.

-(Regis looks at the new friend his son has made, with blue eyes that seem to glow when in shadows and who wears a leather armband over one wrist at all times, and oh, OH he remembers. He remembers and he wonders with a swoop of dread if this friendship is really just coincidence).

-SO. Some other thoughts on this monster AU plunny: Aerith is Luna (obviously) and writes to the boys the moment Pryna and Umbra are old enough to use as messengers. Noctis is known for being a hyper, cheerful oddball while Prompto is his quiet, melancholy and too-serious friend that can bench press a suit of armor despite looking like a shrimp.

-Cor has a minor heart attack upon meeting Cloud, who instantly gloms onto him as if he remembers Cor (but that’s impossible, kids don’t remember things before the age of three right? RIGHT?).

-Prompto is not the sharpshooter in this verse. Sorry he isn’t. Cloud hates guns for Reasons (coughZack’s deathcough) and he is unnaturally strong. Of COURSE he’s going to take to swords at an early age. He designs his Fusion sword when he’s fourteen and Noctis/Zack splurges his entire royal allowance to get it forged by the royal weapons makers just for Cloud.

-Cloud is there when the Marilith thing happens, it was a road trip playdate that Regis grudgingly allowed.

-Regis shows up in time to see two tiny 7-8 year old children fighting off a Marilith with magic sparking off their bodies like supernovas, Prompto’s eyes glowing an eerie blue as he picks up a dead Crownsguard’s sword and wields it like its a paperweight and Noctis’s eyes burn blood red as he spams lightning spells and whoops like its all a game.

-Regis is Very Sure that neither of these boys are entirely normal. Or sane. But he’s just so glad they’re alive.

-Tenebrae invasion happens without Noctis being there, Luna/Aerith meets Ardyn and promptly begins working her Flower Girl magic.

-Ardyn may or may not show up at the Citadel two years later with Oracle kids in tow, looking to defect and feeling 120% more sane since taking to wearing Luna’s flower crowns and walking in the garden in the rain with her (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge).

-Noctis spots Luna, hurtles up at top speed, and announces to all and sundry that HI. HE’S NOCTIS. HE’S GOING TO MARRY YOU.

-While Regis tries to explain art you can’t just SAY THAT, Luna kneels down to be eye level with the now younger love of her life and tells him that if he still wants to marry her when he turns 19, then she will gladly oblige.

-Cloud and Ardyn hold a staring contest during which Ardyn rapidly puts together some pieces about the Chosen King child, the Oracle, and this little escaped Lab Boy and starts cackling like a lunatic.

-BAHAMUT YOU’RE IN FOR A WAKEUP CALL.

-Also at one point Titus and Prompto are alone in the same room for like- twenty minutes because Prompto is hiding in Titus’s office. Titus and him hold a staring contest before Titus’s lips twitch and his eyes flicker an eerie green.

-“Hello Cloud,” he purrs, “You aren’t angry I’m here?”

-Cloud crosses his arms and huffs goodnaturedly, “Who do you think talked Minerva into kicking your moping butt out for a second chance, Sephiroth? Also, if you’re using that creepy armor under your skin as an excuse to hurt Zack and his family-.”

-“Never,” Sephiroth says firmly, “I have been the slave of my experimenters before. I have no desire to be so again. I currently feed Regis information gleaned from General Glauca and only give the Empire non-information cleared ahead of time by the king.”

-“Okay then.”

-“Indeed.”

-And that is the start of the Glaives living confusion fever dream where they keep walking in on their Captain holding the WEIRDEST conversations with a Smol Child (or Children, Noctis gets in on it too) that range from insult contests and mockery of each other’s sword techniques to deep, soul-searching questions of existence and magic and how it relates to the soul.

-Nyx would really like it if life could start making sense again pls. These never happened before Prompto Argentum came along.