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eleanorbloom · 4 years ago

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First Date (Aurora Emery x MC)

Disclaimer: The characters of this story, except Rosalía, belong to Pixelberry.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Aurora Emery x f! MC (Rosalía Muñoz)

Warnings: Fluff, discussions of coming out, maybe some slight homophobia Rated: T

Word Count: 2.9k

Prompts: Day 7 of CFWC Female Characters Week, "Women In Love". Also, Day 14 of @choicesmonthlychallenge "Moonlight".

Summary: Aurora and Rosalía go on their first date after both confessed their feelings.

Author’s Note: This story follows the events of my first fanfic Until I Met You. This is not intended to be a series, but probably all my Aurora's fics will revolve around this premise story. Maaaaybe one day I'll do some rewrites, maybe not. Either way, I hope you enjoy this!

PS: I didn't proof read this, so forgive me the mess, probably I'll fix it later.

Taglist: @romereadingshop @starrystarrytrouble @penda-bear @queenelianar @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @julia-highstorms

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It was dark when Rosalía got out of bed, and beautifully quiet. Just a murmur of some cars passing by a few blocks from there, and no major movements in the apartment.

She had woken up early to leave for the hospital with Aurora, just as she used to do before starting to avoid her.

Rosalía couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the night before. Aurora confessing her feelings, reciprocating hers. Their first kiss and all the kisses that followed after. All the sweet words, the words of reaffirmation, the promises, the doubts.

Even the unknown didn’t seem so scary now that their affections were mutual.

The lights in the kitchen were on when she approached with her bag on her shoulder, ready to leave for the hospital. Aurora was there, at the counter with two travel mugs in front of her, putting a teabag in the purple one before carefully pouring boiling water on it.

Rosalía smiled, relishing in the beautiful view she had in front of her. How lucky she was for being able to do this freely now.

When Aurora noticed her staring from the corner of her eye, she glanced up and blushed instantly, “Oh, hey.”

"Good morning," Rosalía said, leaving her bag in a stool before approaching Aurora.

"Morning Rosie, I have your coffee ready," Aurora replied and pointed to the white floral mug next to the purple one.

"Thank you. Glad to be back on this routine,” she whispered, looking intently at her.

Aurora gave her a shy smile before putting the kettle back on the stove, “Yeah, me too.”

As Rosalía sensed slight nervousness in her words, she walked toward her and took her hand in hers, "Having second thoughts?"

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You seem… Nervous.”

The taller woman released a shaky breath before responding, “Well, I am, a bit."

“Why?”

"Because I…"Aurora bit her lower lip, pondering her words. This was never easy for her, but somehow it was a lot simpler with Rosalía. To open up. "Because I like you so much and I don't wanna screw it up."

“How could you screw it up? We're just starting.”

She shook her head, "It's just… I'm not used to this. It's not personal, with James it took me some time to… get accustomed to the idea of dating someone after not doing it for years. And with you is completely different because I've wanted you for so long and I have actual feelings for you so… This really feels something new to me, besides the whole 'I've never been with a girl before', it's… Scary not knowing what to do."

Rosalía gave her a sweet smile before caressing her cheek with her thumb, "Oh, gorgeous, you're not going to screw it up just because you don't know what to do or you're new to this. I bet most couples don't have a fucking idea what to do when they start, and then just figure it out with time. And in this case, we have each other to sort it out, alright?"

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay you feel that way, and if then you feel like I am or we are going too fast, you just have to say it, okay? You can be completely honest with me."

With a warm smile on her face, Aurora nodded and then leaned down to Rosalía and pressed her lips softly on hers, "Thank you."

Rosalia didn't take long to wrap her arms around Aurora's waist, deepening the kiss, lips caressing more eagerly.

Both sighed after a few seconds.

"We should get going,” Aurora breathed an inch away from Rosalía.

"Should we keep making out in your car?"

Aurora chuckled, “Not a bad idea.”

“Maybe in the elevator too, and the lockers…”

“Mmm, greedy much?”

“Can you blame me?”

Aurora stared at her deep in the eyes and bit her lip as she tucked a strand of hair behind Rosie’s ear “No. Would be very hypocritical of me.”

Rosalia chuckled and kissed her again, “Let's go, then."

Both residents took their mugs and bags and left the apartment still in complete silence.

As Rosalía anticipated, they kissed in the elevator, in the car, and every other red streetlight they stopped before they made it to Edenbrook. And then when she parked, they leaned to kiss again.

They were completely drunk with the new blossoming love.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Rosalía asked, parting after another breathtaking kiss, “We'll wait some time to tell the others?”

Aurora stared thoughtfully at her before answering, "Personally, "I'd like to wait for a while, maybe a couple of weeks? This is all too new to me, to you, and until yesterday I was dating someone else, so… We should talk about us first. If that's okay with you, of course. If-if you think I'm being too forward or going so fast, just tell me."

”I’d love to talk about us.” Rosalía said, “What is it?” she added as she saw Aurora fidgeting her hands and then bit her lips, nervous.

"Maybe we could go… on a date? Or not a date, just… going somewhere quiet to talk, just the two of us."

“That’s definitely a date, Emery,” she chuckled, amused with her strange denial.

Aurora smiled, "Okay, yes, a date, but… not a fancy thing, not with the paraphernalia of dressing and going to a fancy dinner, maybe going somewhere after work, if that's okay to you?"

“Yeah, I like that. We can do fancy anytime, right?”

The next two days were so challenging and stressful that none of them managed to end their shift before 10 pm, and by that time they were completely wiped out to even think about going somewhere else but their beds.

"Where are we going? Or is it a surprise?” Rosalía cheerily asked leaning against the wall in the emergency staircase, when both confirmed they could clock out on time that evening.

"No, it's not a surprise," Aurora assured, smiling at her excitement, "I was thinking about this place, Club Café that is… queer-friendly."

“Oooh, interesting.”

“I thought maybe both will feel a lot more comfortable in a space like that, free of prying eyes and more… Like… Like us, maybe it will help us to get… Used to this.”

“Oh God, Aurora Emery stuttering? You look adorable, you know that? All doe-eyed.”

“This isn’t easy for me, so don’t mock me, Rosie!” Aurora reprimanded, cheeks profusely blushed.

“This isn’t easy for me either, why do you think I’m laughing like an idiot? Why am I saying these things? I’m nervous as hell!”

Aurora shook her head, and arched an eyebrow, “So, what do you think?”

Rosalia placed her arms around her neck and kissed her before replying "I think it's perfect. You couldn't have picked a better place for our first date as members of the queer community."

"You just can't stop kissing and touching me, uh?”

Rosie kissed her again more deeply, “No, I can’t. There’s something about you... about your lips… that just… pull me, you know? And I’ve been restraining myself for so many weeks, that I don’t intend to stop anymore.”

“Oh, I think you’ll have to tell me about that.”

“Of course, anything you want. Tonight. I bet you have a lot to tell me too.”

“Indeed.”

After work, Aurora took Rosalía to the aforementioned cafe in Back Bay.

Despite the cafe being packed with lots of people, groups of friends chatting, couples talking, and live music being played, the atmosphere there was really pleasant and intimate. Perfect for a first date.

Aurora and Rosalía hadn’t had the time to feel particularly worried about being seen in public together, because they’d only been at the hospital and at the apartment the last three days, and all their affections would be private until they were ready to tell their friends, but the fact that they could show their love for each other in public felt absolutely liberating and somehow reassuring. It felt right.

While they were waiting for their orders, both took a moment to appreciate the soft piano melody a woman was playing on the other side of the room.

“I’ve never been much into jazz, but the melody is beautiful,” Aurora stated.

“What music are you into? I’ve only seen you listening to classical music.”

“Some pop, rock, instrumental. I’m not much into music actually, but when I do, it’s mostly for focusing.”

And that was just the first of many questions that night. They spent the following hours talking about them, but under a light, they never knew before. They were friends first, they had shared personal stuff, some interest in career paths, food, movies, etc, but when there is romance involved, every single detail seems suddenly more interesting and necessary to learn than before. Favorite place to have a coffee, to have a drink, best spots to go hiking. Favorite song. Favorite color. Favorite movie genre.

Anything that could involve future plans between them.

They also spend the evening talking about how everything happened, how Aurora realized she liked Rosalía, with more details than what they shared a few days ago, and Rosalía told her about how she felt about their first date with James, and how that night she realized she liked her. How much she tried to forget her and how difficult it was for her to avoid her in order to get her out of her mind and heart.

“And here we are,” Aurora stated, taking her hand over the table.

“Did you have any problem with the fact that you liked me, I mean, a girl?”

Aurora stood in silence for a moment, thinking, "Not really. It felt strange that after years of liking men, I was liking a woman now. I know I'm young, and there are people who are in their fifties that realize their sexuality isn't what they thought, but… it felt really concerning the fact that you were my friend and you wouldn't reciprocate me. That I'd do things that could probably ruin our friendship, that you'd realize I like you and you'd push me away, I don't know, that sort of things."

“Exactly what I thought when I realized I liked you.”

Both laughed.

“Is kind of weird but funny how it happened the same to both of us, right?” Aurora questioned, before taking a sip of her glass of water.

“Yeah, but I’m glad it happened this weirdly, lucky way. I was worried it would take me too much time and effort to forget you. But you got the worst part, around five months.”

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t see you dating another person under my nose.”

Rosalía closed her eyes and teasingly shook her head, as if she was trying to forget those painful moments, “At least you were dating a great guy. Like, damn, you dumped James Woods for me?”

“He is great, but you’re greater,” Aurora stated, serious, “Besides, I don’t like him as I like you.”

“Oh, and how much is that?” Rosalía asked, leaning to her, and stopping just a few inches from her nose.

“A lot,” Aurora answered and then cut the distance and brushed her lips on Rosalía’s, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate mousse she had been eating. “Mmm sweet.”

After a few moments of silence, both digging in their desserts, Rosalía glanced at her with a serious expression, “What do you think will happen to you when we tell everyone?”

“What do you mean?”

"I don't know, if you have family members that may not support you in this? Considering you always identified yourself as hetero."

“Mmm well, my parents will be surprised, that’s for sure, and maybe it will take them some time to get used to it, but they won’t kick me out of the family or anything.”

“And your Aunt?”

“Aunt Harper couldn’t care less as long as I don’t lose sight of my career.”

“Cool. Good to know you’ll have the support of your family, sort of.”

“Yeah. I know this will be a surprise for everyone, that my aunt will be very surprised but she won’t judge me. It’s just that... “ Aurora paused for a moment, considering her words, “Maybe… doing something no one expected from me is what worries me. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve been acting this way for a long time. And this is something clearly no one could’ve anticipated.”

“Aurora, it’s not stupid. It’s totally understandable that you feel worried about that, you’ve always lived with so much pressure on your shoulders, that obviously you wouldn't want to add more. ”

“Precisely, but it’s not just that. I’m also afraid that… I don’t know, something that feels so natural to us, won't be to everybody, that maybe some people won’t like it. I honestly don’t care what we might have to face but it’s a shame this won’t be as easy as it is… with straight people.”

"That's true. That's maybe the only thing I fear about this. The… hate we could receive, but I'm sure it will be minimal because we'll have our friends to support us. And as long as we're together, I think we can face anything."

Aurora watched as Rosalía slid her hand over the table and took it on her own, giving it a squeeze in agreement, “What about you?”

“Well, I think my mom will take it fine, but my dad won’t see me the same again in a long time. He’ll try to ignore it.”

“Oh.”

“He’s not a bad person, but it will be really disappointing that I won’t have the life he always dreamed for me. Marrying a good man and having children. Well, I’ve known since long ago that I will disappoint him because that never was something I was particularly interested in.”

“His loss, then.”

"Yeah, but eventually he'll align his dreams with reality, and he'll find out I am happy the way I am and doing the things I do. Well, that's what I hope."

“I hope so too. I hate the idea of you suffering because your dad doesn’t accept you.”

Aurora gave her a worried look to which Rosalía tried to reassure instantly with a wide smile, “Me too, but I’m kinda used to receiving the cold shoulder for not meeting his standards. I’m the black sheep of the family, after all. This just confirms my place even more.”

Aurora arched an eyebrow “You’re the best resident of our cohort, you have the job of your dreams, and you’re the black sheep of your family? What are your other siblings, CEO of Forbes 500?”

Rosalía cackled, amused with the irony of her life, "Nothing of the sort. Actually, I'm the most successful of the five, but the only lefty that rebelled against my dad’s desires and escaped from his authoritative wing.”

“Your father really needs to sort out his priorities.”

“Yeah, I keep thinking it’s never too late for that. Let’s hope I’m not being too optimistic.”

After a few minutes, Aurora paid the bill and both left the cafe to walk around the busy streets of Back Bay. Somewhere in the middle of rustled streets and the chill of the night, Rosalía extended her hand to intertwine her fingers between Aurora's.

Aurora simply smiled and gave it a squeeze before keeping walking until they reached Boston Public Garden.

"Wow, I don't think I remember seeing it this beautiful," Aurora sighed, taking in the view of the park when they stopped in the middle of the lagoon bridge.

The streetlights and the moon were softly reflecting in the water, and a few grouped ducks were sleeping by the lagoon bank.

“Yeah, but it certainly isn’t as beautiful as you,” Rosalía whispered, looking at her deeply in the eye.

“Flatterer.”

“Just stating facts.”

Aurora chuckled, and when she realized Rosalía was serious, her brows furrowed in concern, "What is it?"

“Is it too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Her eyes widened in amazement and despite trying to articulate a response, nothing could get out of her mouth.

"I know it's our first date and we said we would take things slow but…"

Somehow, seeing Rosalía nervous and blushing gave her the strength to speak, but maybe not in the way she used to do it, “You’ve been clinging to me like a limpet since we first kissed, I don’t know how much different from being a girlfriend you’ve been behaving..”

Rosalía arched a brow, baffled by her reaction “Oh I’m sorry Miss-I-Hate-Kisses, I won’t disturb you ever again.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one that can tease when the other is nervous?"

“You called me clingy while I was asking you something serious.”

"I did. But that doesn't mean I don't like you clingy. In fact, I love that you're clingy. Maybe I like you even more because you're clingy."

Rosalía's eyes illuminated as Aurora placed her hands on her hips, pulling her closer to her body.

“What I meant to say is… it’s not too soon. Whatever doubts I could have before, now I have none, so… I’d love to be your girlfriend, Rosie.”

"Oh," it's the only thing Rosalía could say. For the first time in ages, Rosalía didn't know what to say.

“Do you wanna be mine?” Aurora asked, completely touched by her sudden speechlessness.

“I am already yours, but yes, I do. I wanna be your girlfriend, Aurora Emery.”

#cfwc female characters #choices #opean heart #open heart choices #aurora emery #opne heart fanfic #open heart fic #playchoices #choices stories you play #oph choices #oph fic #aurora emery x mc #aurora x mc #oh choices

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aesudan-kholin · 3 years ago

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If Kaladin had actually given Elhokar hero lessons, how do you think those sessions would have gone?

so... i made a post recently about how i understand (i know lots of things, but not understand) literally nothing about them whatsoever. so answering this ask isnt going to keep in line with what i usually do of only saying something if im confident in it and reasonably sure it wont change later. AKA me from the future might not agree with what i think and say now. so just putting that out there.

so the thing about this is it probably never could have happened. elhokar was desperate, and in his desperation, whether this idea of kaladin teaching him was something that he had been stewing on for weeks to months, or something he thought of while drunk (i imagine it would be the former, though he probably didn't think about it in specific, accomplishable ways), he finally worked up the courage with the help of some alcohol to ask kaladin to do this completely un fleshed out plan of figuring out how to make elhokar not be a shit king. now, this was doomed to fail for a few reasons.

number one: elhokar had a very very good chance of legitimately being incapable of being a good king.

maybe he could have ended up (with some guidance) as a good leader at some smaller scale, like a small town, but even that is debatable. kaladin instinctively knows things, and while i definitely think he had a negative bias against elhokar and his King Skillz in that moment due their relationship being at a low point, his instinct saying 'yeah thats never gonna happen' was probably completely correct.

number two: kaladin probably would not agree to it.

2a. in that moment where he did ask, kaladin thought he was being weird as hell and was so fucking confused. he didn't know at all where this was coming from, because he is blind to how other people view him a lot of the time, and by extension how elhokar had been idolizing him. they probably hadn't seen much of each other ever since elhokar tried to execute him and throw him in jail. from kaladin's perspective, elhokar tried to kill him, then is coming to him like he has all the secrets to life, which is very baffling to him. unrelated sidenote i need to rewrite this stupid coppermind article on elhokar i did not write it but i want to fix some shit in here. so kaladin in that situation is like WTF????? in his head but out loud he's like 'um.. i dont know if thats possible for you' which is a rejection. i don't know if he would have said the same words if he was at a relative high point in his opinion of elhokar rather than potentially the lowest point that he got in wor that he was in that chapter (thinking about it the chapter where he was in prison might have been the lowest but this is a low point is what im saying), but thats probably an opinion he would have kept throughout the bumpy road of whatever tf their relationship is.

2b. kaladin has shit to do, man. dude was working double triple shifts in words of radiance, got into urithiru and was like the only windrunner, and was training overtime to train some windrunners to have some squires ready for the expedition to kholinar. after he got back he was made a highmarshall and we dont see too much in the ob-row timeskip but he wasnt getting much sleep either, and he probably had a lot of shit to do when he was awake, battles aside. when would he have had the time to even begin to think about lesson plans for this goal that in his head is sort of unachievable, let alone find time for actually talking to elhokar about shit.

so like even if elhokar did ask at a point where kaladin felt less like he was absolute crap and more like [??????? but more positive than the absolute crap thing], kaladin would still have been like dude what. and kaladin also would have been like dude i do not have the time. even in an elhokar lives au (because the first time kaladin would have potentially had any time whatsoever for that is post-kholinar), shallan would probably be the radiant he was interacting more due to lightweaver reasons. and elhokar has a great deal of respect for shallan as well, certainly not as much as he has for kaladin, but he does value shallan's skill and opinion, and shallan would not only be a lot more willing to give elhokar some support and advice, they would be working closer together anyway because of their shared order. he wouldn't be getting this nebulous "secret to life" stuff that he wanted to get from the guy who survived a highstorm, almost single handedly saved an army, beat shardbearers with nothing but a spear, and fell into the chasms only to crawl back out again even after a highstorm, but, and my future self might disagree on this, but he might have just been looking for advice on how to live his life.

but, all of that aside. lets say that kaladin for some reason decided that it was personally important to him to train elhokar to not be a shit leader, that he potentially thought it was not a lost cause, and if he did then he cared enough to try anyway. postponing kholinar (which he would have the power to do in this case, since elhokar would be listening to whatever he said*) might have given him more time for that after that request, or else he might have had to think about it and agree post-kholinar, which would involve an elhokar lives au, which i dont want to deal with all the implications so im going to say in this scenario he accepted after elhokar asked in wor 80, or maybe directly after urithiru was discovered (aka later that night) with a promise to start teaching him right after he got back from hearthstone. god i feel like alternate history hub. the later that night thing would have been more likely because that is after his whole 180 about elhokar. that way, the weird intense commitment to help elhokar be a better leader was baked in to all the other weird dramatic shifts about how he thought about elhokar.

what i think kaladin would do?

possibility 1: he would have elhokar start small. i think he would have elhokar teach a single person to do something. he would get a new recruit, and tell elhokar to teach him to be a soldier. maybe the new recruit is one of lopens cousins who saw elhokar blackout drunk and being pushed around by lopens mom to eat his food, so he's not intimidated by him. the new guy not being intimidated is key, because he can't just do what elhokar says because he's the king. after the day, kaladin talks to the new recruit then elhokar, seeing what went right and wrong, then tells elhokar what changes to make. if somehow everything went right with that, kaladin would next give him a group of 5 to lead in some way, and if that worked, a group of 50.

possibility 2: a job shadow. either kaladin job shadowing elhokar, watching all his fuck ups happen in real time, and constantly whispering advice which is offputting to the people elhokar is meeting with but its funny. the issue here comes with kaladin not knowing a lot of political theory. as good of a leader as kaladin is (which is insanely), elhokar is more well versed in political theory (as an example think of the time kaladin was like 'why is beating sadeas in a duel going to wreck him its literally just a duel' there would be a lot of situations in elhokar's work as a king that kaladin would probably be similarly confused on), even if he doesn't apply it well. either that, or elhokar job shadowing kaladin, watching kaladin train the windrunners, and breaking to explain some things to elhokar every once in a while, which elhokar would theoretically learn from. the issue here of course comes with how both of these guys both have sort of incredibly important jobs that they could probably only carve out a few hours at most for something like that. unless elhokar abdicated.

abdication.... no i shouldn't go into all of this this should be a separate 2000 word post. but abdication could come into play and is related to that *asterisk earlier.

i can not think of a third possibility, although there probably is one. i would think that possibility 1 would be more likely in my opinion.

some meme possibilities i came up with:

- kaladin lets elhokar borrow syl and elhokar wears a hat and syl is in the hat pulling bits of his hair like ratatouille and basically operating elhokar and she makes him be an ideal windrunner whenever she feels like he's fucking up

- kaladin presides over the document signing meetings and whenever elhokar is about to sign a document he thinks isn't good he slaps the pen out of his hand and has a disapproving glare. elhokar has to do the walk of shame across the room to get the pen everytime this happens

- training montage with "Gonna Fly Now" in the background where there is no dialogue and it just shows elhokar visibly failing and he tries to lift a rock with a piece of paper on it that says "kingly responsibility" and fails and kaladin shakes his head, then there's a training montage of idk him learning the spear or training other bridgemen or other kaladin-y things and wearing a bandana for no reason then by the end of the montage he successfully lifts the kingly responsibility rock

- they just completely switch jobs for a while while elhokar gets his shit together. all hail king kaladin

(+ my first thoughts)

#SORRY FOR THIS GETTING SO LONG LMFAOO i did not mean it to #also sorry for posting this so long after i got the ask i got caught up in some irl stuff #thank you genuinely for the ask #its almost 1am im not proofreading this if you see a typo or continuity error no you don't #ask #long post #the hero #room temp milk #unnamed syl tag #my posts #unnamed discord tag #stupid in chief

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moiraineswife · 4 years ago

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Pressure Surge - A Stormlight Fic

! RHYTHM OF WAR SPOILERS !

I’m back with more domestic Jasnah/Wit content as we all deserve in this trying time following the great post RoW depression.

Title: Pressure Surge

Summary: Set somewhere in the middle of RoW. After a lost battle, Jasnah seeks some time alone to reflect. Wit joins her and they're GOOD FOR EACH OTHER. They have positive discussions around Jasnah's mental health and the pressure everyone puts on her and she takes a moment with him to relax a little and let him support her and that pleases me.

Teaser: '“How are you?” he asked, finally, rather more blunt than she’d expected. “I’m fine,” she replied calmly, carefully sculpting her expression and body language to appear as composed as she wished the world to believe she was.

“Mm,” Wit said, placing his hands behind him and lounging, even while she maintained a carefully straight back, legs crossed in front of her.

She turned to look at him at last and raised an eyebrow.

“Very nicely done,” he observed blithely, “No hesitation. But you didn’t answer too quickly, either. People always make that mistake. Nice tone, good facial expression. I’m very impressed.”

“With what, Wit?” she sighed, exasperated for once by his witterings.

“The near flawless delivery of that blatant lie, my dear,” he replied smoothly.'

Link: ao3

Commission Link: Have me write other cosmere characters

Jasnah had always been fascinated by the ocean.

Kholinar was in the centre of Alethkar, landlocked. The closest thing to waves she had seen as a child were the Windblades rising around the city. She no longer felt overwhelmed looking out at the great, blue expanse as she had the first time she had seen it, but there was still something that was hard to look away from.

The waters lapped against the cliff she was perched atop. It glittered in the glare of the setting sun, as if some giant hand had tossed a bag of newly infused diamonds across its surface.

There was an endless quality to that ocean. How much history had it witnessed, blind, and uncaring. Wars. Desolations. The rise and fall of kingdoms and ages. It remained unchanged, undaunted. Eternal. That was oddly comforting. Even if they failed, even if they lost, parts of this world would remain as they had...Wouldn’t they?

She sighed. The fighting today had been grim. The battle, after nine long hours, had finally been lost by her forces. Dalinar and the Mink thought this was inevitable. They were winning the war here, a battle or two lost to the enemy forces was not something to be overly concerned about.

Jasnah accepted that logic. It was sound, by men with far more experience in the areas of war and killing than she. Yet it grated on her. It felt like another failure.

Dalinar seemed to understand when she’d curtly told him she intended to take a hike up to the nearby cliffs. Their meetings were concluded, their soldiers resting, her duties attended to for now. She had decided she could spare an hour or two in meditation, for the small sake of her sanity.

She had brought guards, naturally, but they were surrounding her at a comfortable distance, meaning that she could retain the illuson of privacy while being protected.

Not that she felt the guards did much in the way of that. If she was ambushed or an assassination was attempted here, it would be her own precuations, or Ivory’s ever-watchful eyes, that saved her. But guards set a precedent, provided the right perception, and so she tolerated them.

There was a shifting behind her, quiet conversation she could not hear, and Ivory told her that Wit had come to find her. She’d thought that he might. Hoped that he might, if she were being honest with herself.

The guards let him pass and in a moment, with a soft huff, he settled himself beside her, long legs swinging easily over the edge of the cliff, following her gaze towards the distant horizon.

“How are you?” he asked, finally, rather more blunt than she’d expected.

Wit rarely got directly to the point of anything. Not when he considered it much more fun to dance around it endlessly, tormenting it, like an axehound pup with a captured cremling, until it finally gave in and yielded itself to him.

“I’m fine,” she replied calmly, carefully sculpting her expression and body language to appear as composed as she wished the world to believe she was.

“Mm,” Wit said, placing his hands behind him and lounging, even while she maintained a carefully straight back, legs crossed in front of her.

She turned to look at him at last and raised an eyebrow.

“With what, Wit?” she sighed, exasperated for once by his witterings.

“The near flawless delivery of that blatant lie, my dear,” he replied smoothly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Design flaring happily where she was perched on top of Wit’s head, buried in his neatly styled hair.

She sighed again.

“What gave it away?” she asked, squinting at him, wondering if he would answer.

He smiled, a little sadly, and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her braids in the fighting behind her ear, hand lingering on her cheek for a moment.

“No-one could, or should, be okay after going through what you experienced today,” he said quietly.

She turned away from him, unable to look into those knowing eyes anymore, and stared out across the ocean instead. It somehow felt the smaller, and less overwhelming, of the two options.

He was right, of course. No-one could be expected to be fine after the intensity of the day.

The Fused knew her, now. There was no hiding behind a pretence at anonymity any longer. They were starting to set traps for her, trying to separate her from her guard, cut off her retreat. There had been several terrifying moments today, and she’d nearly been forced to flee into Shadesmar - in itself a frightening prospect.

Yet who else but Wit would have seen what she’d said as a lie simply because logic dictated it must be?

It should have been obvious. It should have been clear to everyone that she was not, and could not be, alright. But that was how she was expected to be. Fine. Always fine.

The world could be ending, she could suffer repeated betrayals and assassination attempts, and setbacks, and they all assumed she would just be fine.

That was who she was. She was Jasnah Kholin. And Jasnah Kholin was never anything other than perfectly fine, whatever else may be happening.

She felt a lump of emotion form in her throat and swallowed irritably, trying to clear it.

Warmth spread across her back as Wit placed a gentle hand on it, rubbing, wordless, seeming to know what she was experiencing, even though her ever practiced mask had not slipped so much as an inch outwardly.

Storming man. He was coming to know her too well, coming to see beneath her mask. That was dangerous.

She wore it, cultivated this presence, and this reputation, for a reason. Letting others in close enough that they saw through the illusion made it worthless. It exposed her. It made her vulnerable, it-

“Jasnah,” Ivory murmured, very quietly, so only she could hear, interrupting her raging thoughts.

She took a breath, nodding, composing herself once more.

She turned to look at Wit, his bright blue eyes unusually solemn, one hand on her back, the other reaching for her freehand, squeezing gently.

This- This was alright. She could let herself have this. A part of her acknowledged that she had to let herself have this.

Ivory was wonderful, an incredible outlet, and would always be her closest confidante, the one who knew her best. He was her partner. They were bonded on a level more intimate that any without could never understand. But with all the pressures lately he had not been enough.

He seemed to know that, and had encouraged the blossoming relationship with Wit. Like her, he retained some wariness about his ultimate goals and the depth to which they could give themselves to him. But this...This was enough. For now.

“It is alright that you’re not fine after what happened, Jasnah,” Wit told her quietly, without a hint of his typical flippancy in his tone, “You don’t need to be.”

She smiled at him, an echo of the sadness that had tinged his earlier now sung back to him as she shook her head faintly.

“Only for you,” she replied, quietly.

Feeling that unexpected emotion swell in her chest again she turned away from him, looking out towards the distant horizon again.

She drew her hand away from his, so she could wrap her arms around herself, though it was not cold here. It never was. Except on the inside, where only she could tell. And no one else cared about that cold.

Exhaling slowly, she tried to banish the strange sense of grief as she contemplated the loss of her vulnerability. Not something she ever thought she’d mourn, and yet, sitting here atop its cairn, she found that she did.

“To the rest of the world I must be what they have come to expect from me,” she murmured, “Whatever happens, whatever disasters or desolations befall us, however helpless, or weak, or terrified I may feel, I must be fine for them.”

He rubbed her back again, and remained uncharacteristically quiet. It seemed to cost him something, not to interrupt her with a quip or a comment. Yet he seemed to know it was what she needed, and so he restrained himself. With obvious difficulty. She could almost love him in this moment for that.

“It has become a constant for them. In this world that changes and becomes more unstable with each passing day,” she continued softly into the silence. “Gravity shall pull them down and keep them anchored. The Highstorms shall rage and make them cling to their place in this world. And I? I shall be fine.”

“Someone must,” he said quietly, hand going still on her back, but not withdrawing, “When worlds end, and kingdoms crumble, and everything collapses into fear and disorder, there must always be someone who still tells tales of better days, and sings songs from happier times. Someone who is fine when they have no right to be. That makes the others think that perhaps they can be as well.”

She turned away from the ocean and looked into his eyes again as his words struck a chord within her.

In them she found an endless depth beyond anything that sea could contain. Understanding. Something she had never expected to see in the eyes of another. A person who understood her. Who understood what she did, and also why.

“They need that person,” she said, so softly that a stray breeze could have stolen the words.

But he heard them.

He would have heard them even if she’d been unable to give voice to them. For he already knew them, had already lived them for thousands of years.

“They need the music," she went on, "They need the stability. The certainty. The confidence. Even if they don’t know it. You have become their constant, and as long as you remain as you always have, they have hope that all else can be as it should again.”

He reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand, that sad smile upon his lips once more.

“And a part of you grows to hate that hope,” he continued quietly.

It was as if they were singing a song together, a duet composed centuries ago, the lyrics never learned, but intimately known, as he spoke his line to her.

“Because while they cling to it, you know that they are desperate. And while they are so desperate that they they must hope so fiercely, with everything they are, you must be the reason they still can.”

Jasnah held for a moment, like the final echo of the last note of a song, the heartbeats it stole from the audience who waited, captured by it, suspended in that infinitesimal moment that seemed to contain eternities.

Then she kissed him.

She did it slowly, a little uncertainly, reaching out and cupping his cheek first, before dipping towards him, almost as though this was their first.

She did not often initiate these kinds of things. This was far more his area, and they were both generally content to allow him to lead the charge on this aspect of their relationship so to speak.

But in the moment it felt right to her. She was not so much a scholar that she was incapable of yielding to the power of instinct on occasion.

He did not seem surprised by her impulsivity. Even though it had surprised her. He’d likely known she would do this before she did.

So his arms were waiting as she moved towards him, and he gathered her in close, pulling her into his warmth, melting into her embrace.

It wasn’t a desperate, heat filled, thrumming thing of passion like a Highstorm. This was a soft and tender thing. Not meant to inspire lust or even need. It was a thing of connection. Of two lonely, wayward souls finding one another in the tangled web of fate strings that had somehow unravelled to let them have this moment here, on a lonely clifftop in Emul.

When she drew away at last, she held to him still. He scooted closer and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

No-one would see this intimacy from them up here. Well, no-one that had not already long ago guessed at it, anyway.

Her guards were loyal as they could be, and were willing to die for her. As some of them had today. She’d decided some time ago that such sacrifice entitled them to gossip about her sordid relationship with her own Wit if they wished.

Some of them were becoming strangely protective about the knowledge, however. She’d overheard a few of them assuring a group of soldiers that there was nothing untoward happening between them whatsoever.

That had been amusing, as she knew for a fact they’d been stationed outside the very building she and Wit had had sex in the night before.

Their behaviour was strange, illogical to her mind, but oddly sweet.

Wit told her that they felt they were part of the secret, now. Like performers in a play. It would ruin the magic, and their part in it, to confess the truth to the audience.

His fingers stroked gently up and down the length of her spine, as if it were some miraculous instrument he hoped to coax symphonies from with his touch.

“I shouldn’t complain about the way they treat me,” she said quietly, head still resting against him.

She felt him shift and glance down at her, but he didn’t say anything, letting her talk.

“They are simply reacting to the person they see before them. The person I cultivated precisely to generate those reactions,” she continued.

She rarely spoke as openly about the mask she wore. It felt strange to discuss it with another. Not least because she had worn it so often for so long now that it was becoming harder and harder to take it off. To be the person that still lived beneath it.

Yet she knew that Wit, of all people, would understand. She knew that he already saw the mask for what it was, and that he was coming to see beneath it, too. In turn he had revealed his own to her, let her see he knew and understood her burden.

That frightened and exhilarated her in near equal measure.

It had been so long, so long since anyone had gotten as close as he was daring to.

At times she felt like a fire. A source of warmth, and light, and power. People craved that. They swarmed to it, like a rockbud vine to fresh storm water. Yet they did not dare draw too near, lest they be burned by her. Wit had never been afraid to get too close to her.

Still, she did not tell him why. Why she had created this mask for herself. What she strove to armour herself against. They were not yet at that point. She...She was not ready to share that with him. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

She sensed that he found that acceptable. That he would wait. And that even if the time never came, he would not mind. Curiously, that made her more inclined to tell him, some day.

“I want them to see me as they do,” she went on, realising she had let the silence linger too long in her thoughts, “I want them to see a woman composed, and in control. Someone who does not, and never will, need help to navigate life,” she continued.

Wit snorted at that, as if it were the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“We all, gods men, and everything in between, need help at some point in our lives,” he said firmly.

“Even you?” she asked, half-teasing, half-curious to see what he would say.

“Even me,” he agreed, with surprising sincerity.

“I know this,” she admitted. Even if sometimes she forgot that. Deliberately. “But they accept it. They accept that I truly can be a person who needs no-one, who would thrive as comfortably on this planet alone, as I would surrounded by those who love me.”

Perhaps that was because so few actually saw her as a person at all.

“Did you expect that from them?” Wit asked, quietly, “When you crafted this perception of Jasnah Kholin for them, did you foresee that you would no longer be able to be Jasnah anymore? That in their minds you would become Jasnah, instead?”

She smiled wryly at that, for she knew precisely what he implied by stressing her name that way.

Jasnah.

No longer merely her name. It was a word that encapsulated not only who she was, but simultaneously an explanation and justification for all that she did.

How could she know some obscure piece of lost lore? Well, she was Jasnah.

How could she have foreseen a Desolation that had not come for over four millenia dawning once more? She was Jasnah.

How had she bonded Ivory and researched the end of Roshar itself in secret for years without anyone ever knowing? She was Jasnah.

How could she be fine, when all logic screamed that she should be breaking down with the rest of them? She was Jasnah…

No matter how seemingly impossible or irrational the feat, no matter that it would have been called a miracle if another had performed it, for her, it was simply a commonplace byproduct of her existence.

She suspected she could single-handedly defeat Odium with nothing but the still-clothed pinky finger of her safehand and they would all just nod and say to one another, ‘well, she is Jasnah’.

Bitter thoughts. Unkind and unproductive. She pushed them away, discomforted by the depth and intensity of them.

“No,” she admitted to Wit, instead, “I did not expect them to put me on the pedestal they have. I never wanted it, either.” She trailed off, as her thoughts darkened.

She had not wanted to become their salvation, or the answer to all of their impossible problems. She had only wanted to be respected, to have her independence and competence acknowledged.

To never again be someone that would, that could, be dismissed and locked away in darkness, screaming, pleading. Ignored.

She shivered.

“Good thing, too,” Wit said, lightly, though he gave her hand a small, comforting squeeze as he did so, “Had you just confessed a proclivity for foresight to me here, I would have had no choice but to have declared you as one of Odium’s minions and pushed you from this cliff into the hungry maw of the ocean and all its fearsome denizens waiting below.”

She smiled, grateful for the deflection, and said drily, “I’m quite sure you would have made an attempt at such a feat. Perhaps even a good one.”

He chuckled lightly, “But not good enough to topple Jasnah,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Her smile widened, in spite of herself, and she said, “I do not intend to end my existence being used as a toothpick by a greatshell.”

Wit laughed at that. She expected him to make some quip about how no-one ever intended to become the toothpick of a greatshell in their last moments, but sometimes the Cosmere didn’t give them that choice.

Instead, he looked at her for a long moment and said, quiet, unusually reserved, “And how would you choose it to end?”

She paused, thinking on that, before she said softly, “Would you think me a fool if I said I would like it to be when I am old, and content, and safe? There is no more war, and no more Desolation. Alethkar has peace, and justice, and prosperity. My family are looked after, and stable, and happy. And I feel that I can finally rest.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple at that, holding it for a moment longer than he needed to, “I asked you what you wanted, my dear, not what you foresaw,” he said, “And I would never name you a fool. Least of all for desiring peace.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and gave her a smile more deep and genuine than any she’d seen from him. And she felt that he saw her in that moment. More clearly, and more honestly, than anyone she had known for so long. It felt frightening. But it also felt right.

“It is good to have gentle dreams, Jasnah,” he murmured, “In a time of crisis and violence such as this, I may even be persuaded to such things an act of revolution.”

“And you?” she said, smiling a little now, “How would you have me meet my end?” He blinked at her, seeming surprised by this, so she clarified, “I can’t very well ask how you would meet your own end, as I’m not convinced you ever will. So I ask instead: how would you write my final pages? How would you end a life such as my own?”

He seemed to ponder this for a long moment, “I would not,” he said, finally, and left it at that.

“Coward,” she told him, fondly, sliding an arm around him and tugging him closer.

He made a noise of mock offence at that. Design giggled happily from her perch in his hair.

“For whatever it may be worth to you, insignificant or otherwise, know that I am proud of you,” he said, quietly.

She almost made a quip about him being proud of her calling him a coward, but stopped when she looked up and saw the look in his eyes. The intensity, the genuine care, the respect, the-

Jasnah swallowed, not allowing that thought to fully form, focusing on his next words to distract from that dangerous, dangerous word.

“I am proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself. What you have achieved, and what you yet intend to, should be celebrated. You are extraordinary, and I don’t think the Cosmere sends you enough reminders of that fact,” he said, quietly.

“I presume that’s why you’re here, then?” she said bluntly, even as she felt warmth blossom within her at the words.

He looked affronted by the very idea.

“The Cosmere did not send me, Jasnah,” he said, as if she’d mortally wounded him by the mere suggestion, “The Cosmere ceased trying to send me anywhere with any deliberateness after that nasty bit of business with several gods, far too many aphrodisiacs, and frankly not enough lubrication, on Nalthis millenia ago.”

She rolled her eyes at him. He prodded her irritably in the side, to show he had seen and did not appreciate that.

“I go where I will, thank you very much,” he said, sniffily, “And I say only what I feel, not what I am supposed to. You should have noticed that by now, surely.”

“Regardless of its source,” she said, cupping his cheek in her hand and making him meet her eyes again, “Thank you for the sentiment. It means more to me than you know.”

Storms. How long had it been since someone told her they were proud of her? She had never needed external validation or approval to do what she felt was right but...It was nice, for once, not to simply be taken for granted. She could admit that to herself.

He nodded, and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"They put an extraordinary amount of pressure on you," he said quietly, "And don't even have the decency to notice you bearing it all."

"That isn't entirely fair," she murmured, “I did ask for that pressure in the first place. I want it. I will use it to build a better kingdom, and a better world. If it survives this Desolation.”

“Perhaps,” Wit allowed, “But that doesn’t stop it all from being overwhelming sometimes, now does it?”

“No,” she admitted.

“I’ve heard the way they talk about you,” he said, quietly, “Your soldiers, the highprinces, even your own family, your former ward,” he said softly, and she braced herself. “They see you as something else, Jasnah Kholin. Something near divine at times.”

“I know,” she said, shifting uncomfortably in place, unsure how to respond in a way that would not undermine those closest to her, or deflect away with some easy, empty comment.

Wit did not seem to need her to say more, however. He pulled her close instead, wrapping her in his warmth, which was the right thing.

“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” he said, voice very low now, and she turned to look at him, at the pain in his eyes that she had never seen before. “To feel so human within yourself, but to have everyone else look at you and see something so beyond all of their grief, and pain, and fear.”

She nodded, opened her mouth to speak, but felt that to say anything would be pointless. He knew. He understood. She did not need to struggle to put it into words for him. So she simply nodded again, and he leaned in and pressed her forehead to hers.

Jasnah reached out and took his hand in hers, twining their fingers together, “I think,” she paused, swallowed, and forced herself to continue, “I think that is why you have come to be as important to me as you have, this past year,” she said, wincing a little at the awkward phrasing.

She was not good at putting her emotions into words. It was better if she could write them, and they had written letters to one another, early on. Partly due to distance, his travels, and partly, though it had never been stated openly, to accommodate this.

But storm it they were past that now. She was not some awkward teenager experiencing her first attempt at romance. She could do this. She would. For him. He deserved this much from her after what they had just shared.

“You do not see me as something else,” she said, quietly, “Something beyond what I am. You respect me, and you can acknowledge my abilities, my intellect, and my ingenuity, without stripping me of my humanity.”

She had almost forgotten what it was to express doubt, or uncertainty, to another person before Wit. But he was someone she did not have to shelter from the harsh realities of the world. He knew them all. She did not have to be his saviour. And he did not have to be hers. They were already those things to so many that, with one another, it was nice to simply be.

Reaching out, she brushed his cheek with her fingers, “I feel like a person, when I am with you,” she told him quietly.

Then a part of her heard the words she had just spoken and she grimaced, pulling away, feeling suddenly foolish.

“I sound ridiculous,” she said bluntly, shaking her head.

He smiled, taking her chin gently between his fingers and tilting her face up to look at him, “Fortunately, I speak fluent ridiculous-ese,” he told her lightly. She rolled her eyes at him, but he took no notice, “You might even say I invented it. So fear not, my dear, I understand precisely what you meant.”

She snorted at that, but was internally grateful she didn’t have to try and find a way to rephrase her complex emotions on the subject.

“I will also admit that I’m rather relieved,” he went on, conversationally.

“Relieved?” she repeated, frowning at him.

“Oh indeed,” he said lightly, eyes tinkling, “I was starting to fear that your eloquence knew no bounds. I thought I’d have to murder you to save myself from competition. I’m very relieved that that clearly isn’t a danger any more.”

She glared at him, and he responded by laughing and kissing her fondly on the top of the head.

“You have put an inordinate amount of pressure on yourself,” he said quietly, fingers playing up and down along her spine once more, making her shiver pleasantly, “And you do good work as a result. But it is good to set down your burdens at times. To let yourself be light, and a little ridiculous, and intensely human at times. Take it from someone who knows: it’s entirely necessary in order to maintain one’s sanity. If that is what I can be for you, then I shall be it gladly. And with pride.”

She considered that for a moment, tapping a finger idly against her knee, then said, “So, in essence, you are all that currently stands between me and madness?”

He grinned.

“Storms,” she muttered, “I may need to invest in a deity after all.”

“Technically-” he began, perking up, but she interrupted him with a raised hand.

“You are not a deity, Wit,” she said flatly. He opened his mouth to protest and she put a finger to his lips to quieten him and added, “I don’t care how many people in the Cosmere you claim still worship you.”

He sniffed in indignation, but slid an arm around her and drew her in close, “Probably for the best,” he mused, “I don’t know what it would do to theology on Roshar if a woman was found to be having sex with her god.”

“Improve attendance at temple, I would think,” Jasnah observed drily.

Wit laughed at that, “Such a cynic,” he said, with the same tone another man might use to praise his partner’s skill in drawing.

She rested her head comfortably against his shoulder, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, the gentle pulse of the waves below lapping against the cliffs.

After a long while sitting together in companionable silence, as the sun sank lower and lower, pulling light from the world as it went, Wit said into the gathering darkness, “Would it really be so terrible, Jasnah? To let them see your fears? Your humanity?”

“Yes,” she answered softly, but said no more.

Wit stared down at her for a long moment, expression thoughtful, eyes gentle. Then he nodded simply and settled himself again, arm still around her.

She closed her eyes, more relieved than she wanted to admit that he hadn’t pressed her on a reason why.

It was not just the wish to shelter those around her from the burdens she felt, foolishly, should be hers alone. There was more. The last time she had exposed weakness, even to those she loved, it had ended with her locked in a dark room, screaming and begging for release.

Never again. Never again.

She felt Ivory’s gentle touch on her mind, cool, but welcome, “You are safe.”

She smiled faintly. She had not been slipping back so completely that the panic stuffed itself down her throat like water into the lungs of a drowning person. She had not needed him to pull her back to herself. Not this time. But she appreciated his careful intervention all the same.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly to Wit, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow, curious, “I sense it is something the Cosmere does not tell you often enough, either,” she told him, and he smiled, dipping down for a gentle kiss, which she allowed him.

They were allowed a few more moments of peace, before one of her guards cautiously approached, “Your Majesty?” she said tentatively.

“Yes, Bettara?” she said, turning to look at her, the face of the Queen replacing her idle comfort with her partner smoothly and easily.

The woman curtsied and said, “Your Uncle, King Dalinar, has sent a runner with a message for you. She claims it’s urgent she deliver it in person as soon as is agreeable for you.”

Jasnah rose, “Tell her I shall speak with her at once,” she said.

The guard nodded and dashed back to the perimeter line. Jasnah reached down and gave Wit her hand to pull him to his feet.

“Time to be Queen again,” he observed lightly, his eyes on the distant runner.

“Indeed.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and said, “Shall I return home and run you a bath? I feel certain you can handle Dalinar without need of Wit.”

She eyed him for a moment, then allowed herself a smile, “That would be appreciated,” she told him.

“Then it shall be attended to with haste,” he promised, bowing with excessive flourishes of his hands.

She smiled faintly as she watched him depart, waving to her guards as he did so.

“This is, Jasnah,” Ivory said, from his position settled on the inside of her collar, close by, but out of sight, as he preferred. “I was uncertain, when first you began exploring this human bond with your Wit. But he is. He makes you you. This is good.”

Jasnah smiled. She trusted Ivory’s judgement more than almost anyone else. His had been the only approval she had sought before pursuing Wit’s gentle courtship of her. It comforted her to know that he shared her assessment of the situation.

“I...Agree,” she said, with a tentative smile.

A part of her was still cautious about this. A part of her would always be cautious about letting anyone as close as she was increasingly allowing Wit. It had to be, to protect her. But the other part felt warm when she thought of returning to him after her meeting with Dalinar. And perhaps...Perhaps that was good, too.

Once she helped save this world, she was going to need things to help her enjoy living in it once all this was through.

***

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Also please feed me comments. I will produce more soft domestic content. And also angst. And maybe even smut. Who knows!!!

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openheartfanfics · 4 years ago

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Rewrites: Book 2

Book 1 Rewrites | Book 2 Rewrites

Chapter 18: Inevitable

🎭 Angst | ☁ Fluff | ♥ NSFW | 📚 Series

Bryce x F!MC

A Night to Remember - @julia-highstorms ♥ Kinktober: Drunk Sex set in 2.18

Someone Else's Christmas Star - @curiousconch ☁🎄 Casey performs in Edenbrook's annual Christmas charity concert. Set in the time jump of 2.18. Feat. Bryce x MC x Rafael

The Loudest One - @julia-highstorms ♥ Kinktober: Against a wall. 2.18 rewrite.

Ethan x F!MC

A New Normal - @coffeeheartaddict2 🦚Ⓜ

All the other departments disband breathing life into Edenbrook. Ethan and Casey are still undefined but in a good place. TW: Sexual content, mentions of character death, mental illness.

Apart - @dumortain-adam 🎭 When Edenbrook closes, MC had to leave Boston and him. Set somewhere in the time jump in 2.18.

Beacon in the Night - @kat-tia801 ☁🎄 Based off of the lost holiday season from Book 2, a look at what Ethan and MC’s first Christmas could be like.

Christmas Eve - @starrystarrytrouble ☁🎄 After a fight with MC on Christmas Eve, Ethan has three dreams that change everything. Set during the time jump in 2.18.

Collapse - @utterlyinevitable 🎭 Becca’s walk home after storming from Ethan’s apartment. He didn’t give her a reason to stay, so she didn’t.

Dinner - @terrm9 Naveen comes over for a dinner for the first time since the gala.

Everywhere I Go - @terrm9 Ethan decides to invite Chiara to Providence

Jealous - @starrystarrytrouble 🎭 When MC goes on a date with someone else, how will Ethan react?

Just For Tonight - @utterlyinevitable 🎭 The gang ends their night on the town at the Edenbrook helipad but a certain attending crashes the party.

Kisses at Midnight - @lem-20 ☁🌟 There’s only one person Casey wants to be kissing at midnight, but will Ethan show up in time? Set during the 2.18 time jump.

Long Overdue - @lem-20 ♥ Set during the 2.18 time jump. Casey and Ethan spend a long overdue night together.

Lost In Between - @utterlyinevitable 📚 [mini: wip] Ethan and Becca navigate their relationship during the canon time jumps.

I. Telling Friends

II. Telling Bryce

Made for loving you - @mj-angels ☁ Ethan wasn't sure what he expected when Casey had text him asking for him to wait for her after his shift at the hospital.

New Year’s Eve - @starrystarrytrouble ☁🌟 MC’s at a party, Ethan’s working and midnight is approaching. This is set in the time jump in 2.18. Twelve hours in the mind of Ethan Ramsey on NYE.

Sienna Weighs In - @fanficnewbie 📚 A Chapter by Chapter “in-between the scenes” series for the “Second Year” saga. [Platonic Sienna x MC] Feat. Ethan x MC

Chapter 18: Sienna and Ethan weigh in. [2.18 Rewrite]

Star to Every Wandering Bark - @stygianflood ☁ Ethan surprises Aparna by asking her to add her name beside his own, on paper.

Take Care - @heauxplesslydevoted ☁ Set sometime between 2.18, Ethan forces Naomi to take a break.

The Countdown - @bex-la-get 📚 [mini: complete]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The End

The Talk - @utterlyinevitable 🎭 Becca and Ethan talk about what that kiss outside his apartment means.

Valentine - @casey-v 🎭💘 What would the closing of Edenbrook mean to E x MC’s relationship? Here’s my attempt to this part of the story.

We're Golden - @irisofpurple ☁ Ethan and Lana go on their first official date.

Weep No more My Lady - @chaoticchopshopheart 🎭 Penelope is terrified, upset over Ethan’s response to her question about what their future holds now that EdenBrook has closed down. She confides in Sienna.

With and Without - @alwaysmychoices 📚 [extended: wip] CH: The night before the hospital closes, Charlie and friends go out to celebrate their time at Edenbrook and the friendship they formed there. But with a night this monumental, are secrets bound to be revealed?

A Toast to Edenbrook

21 Nights - @starrystarrytrouble ☁ Moments from Ethan and MC’s new relationship over 3 weeks.

Tobias x F!MC

Christmas Through Your Eyes - @jerzwriter 🎄☁ Trying to help Casey recover after the attack, Tobias treats Casey to a very special Christmas surprise. What he did not expect was to find the spirit again himself.

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

All fics should have a summary section and categorized as Angst, Fluff, Smut or part of a Series!

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices open heart #open heart fanfics #choices fanfic #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #rafael aveiro #jackie varma

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thequeenofpixels · 4 years ago

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Writing tag game

Thank you for the tag @lorirwritesfanfic ♥

Rules: Bold/color the things that you relate to and then tag some people to play.

I write: daily | most days | a few times a week | a few times a month | random

I tend to write scenes: in chronological order with no skipping | mostly in order but with some filler/skipping | whatever scene I feel like | who knows what’s gonna come out????

When I take a break from writing, it usually lasts: a few days | a few weeks | a few months | it’s kind of random

This one made me thought about a few things that I have never thought before how I write! hahha I liked it!

Tagging: @ladylahela @julia-highstorms @missameliep @argylemnwrites

#tag game

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preservationandruin · 7 years ago

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Oathbringer Liveblog, Interludes 1

Our spread here is Puuli, Ellista, and Venli. This will be interesting. Also, I’d just like to specify--any question I ask in these liveblogs is meant to be rhetorical, more me musing than actually looking for an answer. I want to accurately chart the questions I have, but I also want to discover the answers as the book goes, not get the answers handed to me. I realize that might have been confusing.

I also want to note that I don’t read ahead of these liveblogs, so please don’t tell me anything that happens after the point I’m at. You’re getting my first reactions to everything and I want to keep it that way, for my own enjoyment and for the posterity of these records.

With that housekeeping out of the way, onward to the interludes! We talk about some local legends, romance novels show up, we get some interesting linguistic history, Brandon Pokes Fun At The Massive Size Of This Book, and then he chucks my heart down into a chasm where it shatters into a million tiny fragments because of course we can’t have nice things now can we.

Puuli is a lighthouse keeper, looking forward to the coming highstorm. We get a nice local legend:

Puuli’s grandfather had been able to remember when those cliffs hadn’t been there. Kelek himself had broken apart the land in the middle of a storm, making a new prime spot for homes.

Of course, given that the Radiants are real, this could have happened--but it also reminds me of how every colonial-era house is a house George Washington slept in, or all the places King Arthur was supposed to have sat/slept in England. I love local legends like that. My town’s version of one was that Dairy Queen got the idea for the Blizzard from the Blizzards that one of the local ice cream shops, the Chocolate Moose, made. True? Probably not, but does it matter?

They’re in Natanatan, I think--Puuli is mentioned as having blue skin, thinking that tan skin is strange. Puuli is apparently excited for the storm because of another thing from his grandfather:

Had the time finally come, that his grandfather had warned of? The time of changes, when the men from the hidden island of the Origin at last came to reclaim Natanatan?

So that’s an interesting snippet. In any case, he agrees externally with everyone else that the storm was a tragedy, but internally doesn’t really believe it. He named his lighthouse Defiance, and he sacrifices fruit to Kelek for the storm. And one last bit about the men from the Origin:

They’ll come with Light in their pockets, Grandfather had said. They’ll come to destroy, but you should watch for them anyway. Because they’ll come from the Origin. The sailors lost on an infinite sea. You keep that fire high at night, Puuli. You burn it bright until the day they come. They’ll arrive when the night is darkest.

One might say they’ll come during the night of sorrows, something we’re still waiting for a fuller explanation of. It seems like it’s just another name for the Final Desolation, but that’s what it seemed the Everstorm was, too. Also, Light in their pockets seems to imply that they’re Radiants--but Radiants, ideally, are not coming to destroy things.

Over to Ellista, an ardent. I think I’ve heard this interlude, too--it was another one that a reading was done of. She’s just trying to find somewhere to read, but everyone has to keep arguing about what this new storm means!

And, of course, what she’s reading isn’t a scholarly text but a romance novel. Also, props to Sanderson for taking what is a fairly stock romance-novel scene and giving it enough Rosharisms to be hilarious (not that romance novels aren’t well-written; honestly, good romance novel writers have mastered the art of reworking a genre to make it both new and what readers are looking for and I deeply respect that). And, in the grand tradition of any book you’re reading, Ellista is angrily critiquing the characters’ actions.

I love that this bit so accurately captures what reading a book is like when the characters are doing something so in-character...but so stupid. So far Ellista has yelled at the main character for turning down a guy, cursed at her, said “damn right you better wait” (basically) at another character, gets really into the characters about to kiss aaaand--

Gets interrupted by Ardent Urv, another of the Ardents.

The young Siln ardent was tall, gangly, and obnoxiously loud at times. Except, apparently, when sneaking up on colleagues in the forest. “What was that you were studying?” he asked. “Important works,” Ellista said, then sat on the book.

Anyway, what she was supposed to be doing was working on the Dawnchant, now that Navani--in the last book--cracked it. She doesn’t believe Navani’s story about how, of course. We get some interesting notes about language:

-The Dawnchant wasn’t a primarily spoken language, it was a primarily written one that spread across Roshar as a unified scholarly language -A desolation hit, wiping out knowledge of where/how the Dawnchant had spread -People tried to use it to phonetically transcribe their languages; didn’t work well -Glyphs and modern writing developed

So the reason the Dawnchant was lost was because it was mostly written--there were no native speakers. It would be like if the Catholic mass was still said in Latin, then all the priests got wiped out, or something. People would be like how did they forget the words to their own mass but it would be because those words were in a dead language.

And then Urv notices the book she’s reading, admits he’s read it too (it’s an “Alethi epic,” and I love the possible implication here that the Alethi just are huge suckers for romance novels. I’m not even surprised you cannot tell me that like, Adolin hasn’t gotten emotional over dramatic romance novels. Alethkar is Extra; Romance novels are dramatic. it’s a match made in the tranquiline halls). But...Urv disagrees which guy in the love triangle the main heroine should go with.

Bugs Bunny voice: of course you realize, this means war.

“She really should have picked Vadam though. Sterling was a flatterer and a cadger.” “Sterling is a noble and upright officer!” She narrowed her eyes. “And you are just trying to get a rise out of me, ardent Urv.” “Maybe.”

And, of course, he’s got the sequel--with three love interests this time--and offers it to her in return for her help translating the Dawnchant. Also, Brandon is making fun of himself:

“Sequels always have to be bigger,” he said.

I’m looking directly at the page count of this book. I’m glaring at it. I see you, Sanderson. I know what your game is.

And now to Venli, in stormform. We get more of the changed rhythms--the Rhythm of Craving is mentioned here, and the Rhythm of Command. Venli is confirmed to no longer even hear the normal rhythms. She’s descending into a chasm with some of her fellow Voidbringer soldiers.

There’s a real difference between the Voidbringers--the Fused--and the ordinary Parshmen now returned to autonomy. Every Voidbringer perspective reinforces that. Venli’s spren, which looks like rolilng lightning, is named Ulim, but he takes a humanoid form sometimes, “with odd eyes” and long hair. Venli notes that it’s weird that a spren of Odium would look human--but Odium wasn’t ever really of the Parshendi, was he? He used them, but do we know what Rayse actually was?

Given that his spren look human, probably human. Although the unmade sure didn’t look human.

Anyway, Venli is starting to get irritated at having to obey Ulim. It also seems like even Venli--in the moments where Odium and the new rhythms are less present--has doubts and regrets about what she did, how many of the Listeners were lost to summon the Everstorm and how little they’ve gotten in return.

Anyway, it’s confirmed that Ulim isn’t a spren she’s bonded; instead, “lesser spren” are used for changing forms.

They...they find Eshonai. And she’s dead. Venli thought that when Ulim said they needed to find her sister, he meant find her alive--but he was only ever looking for the Plate and the Blade. Eshonai probably drowned in the floodwaters.

Eshonai can’t be dead. She can’t be.

Well, if anyone would recognize her, it would be Venli. Venli manages--somehow--to go back to one of the old rhythms. The Rhythm of the Lost. And she touches Eshonai’s body.

Venli stared into Eshonai’s dead eyes. You were the voice of reason, Venli thought. You were the one who argued with me. You...you were supposed to keep me grounded. What do I do without you? “Well, let’s get that Plate off, kids,” Ulim said. “Show respect!” Venli snapped. “Respect for what? It’s for the best that this one died.” “For the best?” Venli said. “For the best?” She stood, confronting the little spren on Demid’s outstretched palm. “That is my sister. She is one of our greatest warriors. An inspiration, and a martyr.”

And Ulim brushes her off, pointing out that Eshonai never really transformed properly, that she resisted. God, I can’t believe Eshonai’s dead. Ulim and Venli get in a full argument--Ulim calls himself “the one who escaped, the spren of redemption” and reveals that he still blames Eshonai for trying to prevent them from returning--and the Parshendi as a whole for being traitors. And then an alarming line:

“We must be away and see what your ancestors need us to do.” “Our ancestors?” Demid said. “What do the dead have to do with this?” “Everything,” Ulim replied, “seeing as they’re the ones in charge.”

And it’s noted that the small, cometlike spren is still with Eshonai. Eshonai’s body.

She can’t be dead. She can’t be. I don’t care that we’ve seen the body. Eshonai can’t be dead.

I’m going to be in denial for the next 48 hours at least. Eshonai is fine and that’s a convincing body double. Or she learned lightweaving. Or something. Anything.

#oathbringer spoilers #stormlight archive liveblog #interesting myths #i love eshonai

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