#themoonlitsojourner

[themoonlitsojourner]

“What brings you here, anyway?” He tilts his head. “Who are you?”

“No one,” she says without thinking. Pulse spiking and palms going clammy, a moment later.

His eyebrows shoot up. “‘No one?’ Huh, your parents were certainly creative. I’m Gar.”

Flustered, she shakes her head. “Tara. My name is Tara. It’s just…” She folds her arms. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here.”

“But of course, the price of resources has skyrocketed. Our product, in turn, has been forced to…”

“How is your mother? Ever since I caught word of her illness…”

“I do relish the caviar. I believe our gracious hosts have opted for the Beluga sturgeon variety. It has a certain note of…”

It’s… It’s huge. Huge, and bathed in gold and silver, half-filled with whirling reds, and greens, and blues fanning out in full, elegant skirts. Spotted with crisply tailored tuxedos in shades of black and charcoal and white. Tables laden high and heavy with more kinds of food than she could imagine.

A shoulder hits her back.

Tara stumbles and flushes and catches her balance and turns around, but there’s no one there. Er– there’s lots of people there. People looking her way, wondering about the underdressed, unaccompanied, and awkward girl gaping like a waif off the street–

Tara forces one foot forward. The next. Step by step, and she’s ghosting across the edge of the echoing ballroom. Avoiding the tide. Struggling not to get pulled adrift into the sea of well-dressed, well-mannered bodies. But she can’t keep her eyes from wandering the room.

They’re all so tall, and confident, and dressed in silks and shades she’s never even heard of, talking about things strange enough to be another language, about owning companies, and kingdoms, and ships, and–

Tara freezes. Her heart lodges in her throat.

Gregor stands tall and proud, talking eloquently and energetically with a couple dripping with… diamonds. Those are diamonds. Gregor makes a point, tilting his head and lifting his eyebrows, and the red-handkerchiefed gentleman nods. An impressed smile graces his mustached lips. The lady next to him, color-coordinated with the handkerchief, looks ready to adopt Gregor. And Gregor, he… He isn’t looking this way.

Tara breathes out and shuffles a few steps back. She turns and ducks behind a pillar, careful to keep her movements casual and– and normal. This is normal. These things happen every day, she attends these things every day, she– she knows what she’s doing.

With long strides, she walks away from her brother. Ha, brother? Who? What brother? Don’t mind her, just keep talking, don’t look back…

Tara stops in the corner. A vantage point, where she can see– well, not everything, but most of it. But a lot of it. And…

She sags back against the cool, marble walls.

No sign of Brion. No sign of… of anyone else she knows.

Which is good, right? No one she knows, then no one who knows her. No one who can recognize and tell on her, no one who can get her into… trouble.

Seas, and seas drift by. Dress, after suit, after dress. Talking. Laughing. Back and forth, and all around, and no one– No one looks her way.

Why was she worried?

Tara curls her hand around the bruises on her wrist, squeezing her eyes shut as the pressure wells in her head. T–this was dumb. She’s risking Elodie’s wrath for this? Why did she even–

Rippling, care-free laughter rides the air. Above the clamor, above the static of nonsense. It rolls over her ears like a message, light and musical like a– like a river stream or something. Nothing like the false brass of forced belly laughs, or the broken glass chitter of a mouth-covered giggle…

It rings in her head. Bouncing off the walls of her skull long after it’s finished. Tara bites her lip and lifts her head. She pushes off the wall. She lifts onto her toes, peering over a hundred heads of perfectly coiffed hair…

There. A boy halfway across the room, dressed in a sea green tuxedo with his dark hair neatly slicked, his head tipped back.

Face still quirked in laughter to the amusement of the handful of adults stationed around him.

How old is he? About… could he be twelve? He… seems to be having fun. He seems to know how these things work.

He seems to belong here.

The boy opens his eyes. It’s too far to really see, but she thinks they might be green. And he… looks directly at her. And scrunches his nose in another smile.

Tara drops onto her flat feet. She checks over her shoulder.

No one in particular. No one looking his way. No one he could be… smiling at.

She looks back at the boy. He is looking at her, and he tips his head to the crowd around him, whose focuses have all shifted back to each other. And he rolls his eyes.

Tara’s heart thuds in her chest. A slow grin spreads over her face. She lets the tip of her tongue poke out, just for a second.

The boy crosses his eyes.

The sound of her own laugh under her breath startles her. Tara sets her finger on the skin beneath her eye and pulls it down, zombie style, and he…

Oh. He’s turning away. Nudging the shoulder of the man next to him, deep in conversation with a sharp-eyed, clean-shaven monolith. The boy says something. The man dismisses him with a gesture, never tearing his eyes or his attention from the conversation. The boy makes a face.

Tara glances around. She takes a step back, toward the balcony. It’s, um, it’s quieter out there, and less crowded, and there aren’t nearly as many people, or as much chance of getting spotted, and–

Surprise ties her in place as she takes one more glance. One more look over her shoulder that she shouldn’t. And sees the boy slip past the adults. And begin making his way across the floor to her.

Her drum of a heart takes up a pulsing rhythm again at the sight. At his hands in his pockets. At impossibly green, gold-flecked eyes gazing out beneath perfect dark hair, and perfect dark lashes. They are locked on… on her. And they sparkle.

He stops a few feet away. “Hey.” He rocks back on his heels. The smile never left his face. The best Tara’s ever seen, boyish and charming and shy, all wrapped up in a gap-toothed grin. “Where do cows go dancing?”

Something in Tara’s brain stutters. She blinks. “Excuse me?”

A sparkle. And a mischievous glint. “The meatball.”

There is the strangest, longest, briefest second, between his joke and her understanding, before the gold-inlaid floor fills her vision as she doubles over laughing.

When she straightens, it’s a new grin gracing his lips. Delighted. Relaxed.

“You came all the way over here to tell me that?” Tara shakes her head.

He shrugs, shoulders nearly touching his ears. “I–uh… Wanted to hear you laugh up close.”

Warmth floods her face and arms. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she lets out another laugh, this one nervous and not by choice.

She has never heard anyone say anything like that before.

“What brings you here, anyway?” He tilts his head. “Who are you?”

“No one,” she says without thinking. Pulse spiking and palms going clammy, a moment later.

His eyebrows shoot up. “‘No one?’ Huh, your parents were certainly creative. I’m Gar.”

Flustered, she shakes her head. “Tara. My name is Tara. It’s just…” She folds her arms. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here.”

Danger. Slipping from her lips. She checks over her shoulder, no one around, there’s no one around, right…?

Gar’s grin catches and pulls her attention back to him as it turns crooked, tugging on one side of his mouth. Revealing neat, white teeth. “A stowaway!” He holds out his hand, nodding to the doorway behind her shedding moonlight. “Let’s hide on the balcony.”

Tara stares at the offered palm. Her blood clamors in her veins, an uncertain marching band composed entirely of drums and cymbals.

“They’ve asked for my help upstairs. Just stay here.” Elodie had tied and untied the apron around her waist with a faraway look in her eyes. “Don’t go anywhere, and don’t talk to anyone. They’ll all be up there. Dukes, and earls, and countesses… And the last thing we need is you meeting the prime minister.” Her hand on the doorknob. Her mind on the dance floor. “Stay here.”

And she forgot to lock the door.

…But that doesn’t have anything to do with Gar. He won’t know unless she tells him, she won’t tell him, and everything will be fine. And the ‘don’t talk to anyone’… That wouldn’t even mean him, would it? Not Gar, with the beautiful eyes and the gentle smile. Not a boy her own age, just looking for some… Company? Fun? What is he looking for?

…It doesn’t matter. She’s knee deep as soon as they find out, anyway.

So Tara fits her fingers between Gar’s. And together, they escape into the crisp night.

The polite din of a party nearly two hundred strong fades into static. Tara hears her own breath, slow and shallow.

“Do you like constellations?”

She tears her gaze away from her hand, wrapped up in the secure, warm brown of his. He sees her looking and quickly lets go. Immediately, the North wind turns her hand cold.

Tara rubs it with her other hand and swallows. What was his question? “I– yeah. I love them.”

Gar looks at her like it’s a secret. Like the commonality is a shared shred of soul. “Me too. Show me your favorite.”

She folds her arms across the top of the banister, searching the skies for what she knows isn’t there any more. “Hydra. The sea serpent. But you can’t see it after May.”

“Funny.” Gar huffs a laugh. “We get that one in the southern hemisphere too.”

From the corner of her eye, Tara steals a glance. “The southern hemisphere?”

“I live in Africa. My parents are scientists.”

Her heart twinges painfully. “They’re here for the charity ball.”

He nods. “Why the sea serpent?”

Tara swallows. “I don’t know. I guess… Well, it’s the largest constellation in the sky.”

“Cool,” Gar says softly. Not good enough. He already knows that.

“It takes hours to rise at night,” Tara blurts out. “And…” She hesitates. His question ringing in her head. Why, why… “I like… how it does its own thing,” she finishes lamely.

“I like the Jewel Box cluster.” Gar hops up onto the railing. Like, actually sits on it, dangling his tuxedoed legs off the side and revealing rumpled black dress socks falling down his ankles. “It looks like four stars. Until you get a telescope and find out it’s hundreds.”

Tara bites into her lip. She steals a glance over her shoulder.

Half open doors, hesitantly admitting the night. It’s immediately drowned out by dozens of chandeliers and a ten piece instrumental band. There is no sign of her brothers.

Tara breathes out. And she turns back toward the stars, taking Gar’s hand and swinging herself up onto the bannister next to him. She pushes her hair out of her face. She asks, a little breathless, “What else do you like, Gar from Africa?”

His eyes shine stranger and deeper than the gaps in the galaxy. “Dude, so many things.”

“Tell me.”

Hours fall by, sand in an hourglass. The magnetism of his smile, his laugh, his casual attention draws her ever nearer. A black hole of infatuation. A night sky of potential.

It is worth every silent, locked-in hour that follows.

[missmarvelobsession]

@themoonlitsojourner I'm looking at you 👀

Characters are like piñatas. The real fun begins when you break them

[anonthenullifier]

Hello! What is your note taking system for your fics? Is it sequential and goal driven, or more like a list of scenes? You're one of favorite Scarletvision authors, and I would really love to know more about your writing process. What works best for you? Any advice to aspiring writers? Thanks!

Hello! First of all, I’m so so sorry that it took me forever to respond to this. Secondly, thank you for the ask! I don’t usually think about my writing process and this led to some self-reflection. I also don’t know how others write, so if what I have below isn’t appealing or doesn’t work for you, that’s totally fine.

For shorter stories (less than 4/5 pages), I don’t have a note taking system beyond just a couple random thoughts about what I want the theme to be and any dialogue or image that spurred the story. I write and research these at the same time.

For longer one shots I utilize a sequential outline that has the main interactions or scenes and then each one will be annotated with lines of dialogue,descriptions, and pertinent research /details I want to include (these are usually what make me want to write the story in the first place).

For chaptered stories it is a much more structured process. I will create a document with three parts, all of which have hyperlinked headings so I can quickly travel to them (I use Google docs so I can work on it from any device and use the outline setting to move around in the document). First is my outline of key events (always sequential, I have to think and write from beginning to end) and roughly what I am aiming to include per chapter. Just like before, if I had conversations or descriptions that came to mind, I’ll include them in the outline where I think they will go.  Here’s the thing, I never stick to this outline fully. I am awful at knowing how much to put in chapters and often as I’m writing I’ll realize that something I had planned isn’t going to work or the characters take me in a different direction. That’s perfectly okay, no one has to know what the original plan was, just the final outcome. Because of this I will always create a more detailed chapter outline when I begin to write the chapter itself that incorporates the prior change in plan.  This will be a list of sequential scenes where I’ll break down each scene by what the characters will be doing/saying and anything from my research that needs to be included. If something is really important, like foreshadowing or a thematic element or a character detail, then I put it in bold so I know I can’t forget it or push it off.

Next, I always have a section of information I’ve gathered from research. There is not a single story (drabble,one shot,  or chaptered) I’ve written that hasn’t involved some level of research. Some are super heavy in research, like an Auspice of Scarlet, and some are lighter. Regardless, I have a section where I collect links to sources and then add in a description of what the source is about and how I think I want to use that information in the story. Sources might be comic book panels, interviews from mcu movies, details from mcu movies, historical sources, wiki articles, scientific sources, etc. I will spend a lot of time building this section because it is vital to adding depth and accuracy to the story. I also just enjoy doing research and learning things.

The last section is what I’m actively writing. The only special thing I do here is have a header called START HERE so I don’t have to endlessly scroll once I’m in my file.

In terms of advice? It takes time to develop your voice and writing style. Make sure to write what you want, don’t feel obligated to write specific things simply because it seems that’s what people want. You want to write tons of smut? Go for it. Fluff? Do it!. AUs? Write it! Fixit fics? Go on! It’s easier to find the motivation to write when you enjoy what you’re writing.

[uncannycyke]

Please please tell me you have that panel of catman licking Helena 😂 I MUST see it

i absolutely do. here it is

[burinazar]

i successfully made my ipad function as a drawing tablet, which i've been putting off for weeks, so i'm glad! it's a little janky due to a) i didn't figure out how to configure pen pressure yet b) it connects to my pc with wifi and my wifi is pretty spotty (i'll get better internet next week), but i'm quite happy i managed to do it!

here is a rat wearing a top hat and half a suit, an adorable drawing prompt from @themoonlitsojourner!

(crossposting) i have a feeling of disquietude and unease today. I don’t know why. As always, I didn’t sleep well… I really hope I can do some creative work today. That nearly always helps me feel better if I’m anxious/ restless/haunted by an unspecified sense of foreboding. Please send suggestions if you have them < 3 though i make no promises I’ll use any.

[themoonlitsojourner]

Hey.

Hi.

It was

It was my birthday, yesterday.

I know, I know.

Feels crazy.

Doesn’t it?

Another one.

Feels like they’re

Catching up to me.

Or…

Something.

Aw, forget it.

Sorry.

Don’t know what I was trying to say.

I’m…

I’m twenty-one, now.

By the way.

Feels like…

Feels like it was yesterday

That I was thirteen.

Does it…

Do you ever think about…?

Anyway.

Thirteen to twenty-one.

That’s eight years, you know.

And I can think of a lot,

Eight things, easy,

That have

Changed.

I mean

It wasn’t overnight.

I probably make it sound

Like it was.

But it’s just…

We haven’t talked

In a while

And I know

It’s my fault.

I’m…

I’m sorry.

But

Uh…

But what I’m saying, is

Maybe you don’t know…

That I’m a whole foot taller.

(Vic’s still the better baller.)

Start fewer spats.

(With Raven, that is, the bad guys couldn’t give a crap.)

Made it to Mega Mech level 203.

(Then the GameStation gave out and I had to stop.)

Starred in a commercial for Sunny D.

(Don’t laugh! You’ve gotta start somewhere to get to the top.)

…

Inhale.

…

Finally got the moped.

(Wonder what that button does?)

New haircut.

(High fade, lightning bolt buzz.)

Adopted a mutt.

(He’s a companion, Vic, not a pet.)

Another city.

(Hollywo-- Almost. Not yet.)

Tomorrow.

But today?

I’m here.

…I’m here.

With yesterday’s mud– squelching under my sneakers.

Rain aftertaste– lingering on my tongue.

Damp chill– wetting shivering skin.

Dim cave– blocking out the sun.

It doesn’t seem fair

Does it?

That I get to choose

Where I call my own

And you

Don’t.

Anyway.

Some things

Change.

Some things change

A lot.

Way before

You want them to.

And some things…

Never do.

Like…

Your laugh

Unguarded song

Rewarding every dumb joke

That comes along.

Your voice

In the car

As the radio blares,

Jamming like a rockstar.

Your arms

Around me

After I’ve made

A promise.

Our fingers

Intertwined

When I leaned in

For a kiss.

…

Exhale.

…

Your…

Your smile

Covering a lifetime

Of pain.

Your fear

Wondering if I’ll leave you

Just the same.

Hasty lies

Leading to a choice

You couldn’t make.

An outstretched hand

I

Didn’t take.

And I’m sorry

Don’t mean to be a downer

I thought I was ready

But now that I’m here…

Because there’s unforgiving rock– harsh beneath my knees.

And old tears– drying on my cheeks.

A lonesome statue– cold against my forehead.

A pulseless hand– I wish, I wish I would have said…

The choice

Is yours.

It always was.

You decide

Who you’ll be.

And no else, because

You are you.

Can’t change that

No matter what anyone does.

(And I

Would never want you to.

Not that it matters

Anymore.)

I should have told you

So much

When I could.

Before I left you

With cutting, stupid words.

Without a touch.

We were just kids, you know?

We were just children.

I understand, now.

I’m sorry that I didn’t

Then.

But now…

Now what’s the use?

Now it’s over.

Now I lost my chance.

And now, you will never–

Never…

You will never

Help me find

The perfect sunset spot

On the boulevard, where we can sit

Hand in hand and talk.

Never

Decorate our new place

With night-brite stars

Lie awake till dawn

And listen to the passing cars.

Not even

Hear me answer the phone

With shaking hands and whisper yes.

Spin around the room with me

After I hang up, until we’re breathless.

(And I

Don’t even know

If you would want to.

Is it selfish

That that’s

The worst part?)

…

you will never know

how much we loved you

or the scarred emptiness

carved out by your absence

You

Will never

Change.

I…

Already have.

I am twenty-one.

You are forever thirteen.

You were two months older, two inches taller.

I’m… Well, now you look so much smaller.

(Four hours

until I board the plane

and I am already

so far from you.)

But I will keep

Your name

My tongue remembers

The shape.

I think

–youthfully, foolishly–

That it once belonged

To my soulmate.

I will store your smile

In my pocket.

A blurry Polaroid

Corners worn round

Under lonely fingers

And frayed.

If I

Hide you

In the hollow

Of my regretful

Heart,

Maybe I

Will never

Have to leave you

Behind.

(Any more

Than I already have.

I am so sorry.

Just like my words

On that horrible night

I didn’t mean it.)

So this isn’t

Goodbye

Me standing here,

Suitcase in hand.

It’s just…

…

Just…

(I wish you would wake up.

I wish you would shake off the stone and time

To breathe and laugh and run with me through that door.

I wish this was a dream.

I wish you were fine.

I wish you wanted to live a little more.)

Terra.

I’m sorry.

I loved you.

…

Goodbye.

[percyjacksonwriter]

Herbal tea, for the ask.

Which person would you travel the world with?

My sibling or my best friend.

Thanks for the ask!

[garbblogan]

This is a belated birthday gift for my awesome bestie @themoonlitsojourner I’m so sorry this was so late but, I hope you enjoy it and just know you’re always waffle awesome! 💛💚

[missmarvelobsession]

@themoonlitsojourner tell me why I thought of you 😂

Reasons to Kill Your Characters

Killing your characters at the right time (and having a reason behind it) is important. Here are some reasons behind why you might want to kill a character or two.

1) It can serve as poetic justice. This is when the bad guys are punished and the good guys are rewarded. When the antagonistic force finally gets what they deserve, it can satisfy the reader. If you’ve ever watched Game of Thrones, you know how angering it is when the bad guys always preserver. Giving them a well-deserved demise can be like lemonade on a blistering hot day for your reader.

2) Can death strengthen your current theme? Is your theme love, friendship, betrayal, good vs. evil, survival, etc.? Death can be used to intensify each and every theme. Someone who’s afraid to love because of past loss, a friendship bond broken by a death, a betrayer killing your protagonist’s friend. 

3) It can develop your protagonist and advance the plot. While you might not want to necessarily kill a character for the sole purpose of hurting your protagonist, if the death does achieve that, you’re developing them! Does this death motivate them to push forward? Does it put a hole in their plan? Create new conflict? Deaths can be great for moving the plot forward or putting obstacles in the way of your cast.

4) Killing certain characters can bring closure to their story/arc. Sometimes death can be the best way to end an arc. Depending on who the character is, after they’ve served their purpose to the story, is it better to let them linger, have their story continue off page somewhere or to kill them?

5) Death can build tone. If your tone tone is happy and lighthearted then this isn’t for you. However, if the tone you’re going for is tragic, dark and/or dreary… death can intensify that vibe. (Not just the death of characters… but the death of a time period, happiness, animals, flowers, etc.)

6) Death adds realism. Loss is apart of life (sadly). Is it actually realistic for everyone to survive at the end of an epic fantasy journey? Especially when most of them are novices learning along the way, running into skilled villains, dangerous creatures and mysterious illnesses? Death comes and goes whenever, wherever. This unexpected element can add realism to your story.

7) Shock the characters and your reader. This one is risky. You’ve probably heard it before– killing a character out of the blue with no foreshadowing or reasoning can upset the reader. However, you can still have an abrupt death that has meaning. A selfish (yet beloved) character who suddenly sacrifices himself for another. He wasn’t expected to die, but the way he did had meaning.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

[missmarvelobsession]

Comics from @themoonlitsojourner and another mini moment I spotted while I was out today

[scarletxvision]

List your 10 favourite female characters from 10 fandoms and tag 10 friends

Thank you @themoonlitsojourner for the tag! 💞

☆ Marvel - Wanda Maximoff

☆ Agent Carter - Peggy Carter

☆ Spop - Entrapta

☆ Star Wars - Rey

☆ Ouat - Emma Swan

☆ Acotar - Elain Archeron

☆ Shadowhunters - Isabelle Lightwood

☆ Six of Crows - Inej Ghafa

☆ Firefly- Kaylee Frye

☆ Schitt's Creek - Alexis Rose

Tagging: @lunar-fairy-fanart @thewitchsvision @scarletphantomprivateblog @spellsofscarlet @god-of-lesbian @scruffylookingpiratecaptain @magistrate-of-mediocrity   @bartagnanz @neverseenaspaceshipbefore @orderchaoslove

[westannatasharomanoff]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone think you're beautiful inside and out! 💝💖💐💐

Okay, I’m just going to tag people because I only have like 5 minutes between classes.

@gammacousin @broadwayfan92 @whatrambles @redspeedy @boldlyshamelessfun @billiebanner @superblizzardfire @themoonlitsojourner

[roseherondale]

For being so nice and so cute, copy this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful! 💕 💗

Thank you 🥺✨ you’d be one of my tags too ❤️

I’m on a side blog and I can’t send asks without anon so I’ll tag you all here, instead.

@kit-heronrookstairs you’re the absolute sweetest and your comments on my fics make my life ❤️

@ti-bae-rius I love your blog so much and I was so excited when you followed me 🥺❤️

@overenthusiasticbookworm thank you for always liking my posts, I really appreciate it ❤️

@peer-parker @themoonlitsojourner @lavender-gray-moth I loved playing Among Us with you all the other day! Thanks for being so nice ❤️

Thanks to everyone who has followed me, liked or reblogged any of my posts - you all make my life! If you want to send this to any of your favourite creators then please do ❤️✨

[missmarvelobsession]

So many to pick from, but I tried to narrow it down!

Tagging @themoonlitsojourner and @unhingedmarvelandclassicwhobuff to play if they want!

Was tagged by @holiday-house-of-m to post 8 TV shows to get to know me better. Thank u for the tag M! I love the tagging games😁

So here are mine:

No pressure tag: @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imdoingsortagay @riveramorylunar @nctxrejects @marveloussimp @wandamaximoffbae @didyoubringauntienat @mywitchy-assassin @fluffyprettykitty @canijustbeanonymous

Cheerio!

[themoonlitsojourner]

Chapter 3: Come back home

Gar thought Raven didn't care. And he couldn't fault her for it after what happened when HE wore his heart on his sleeve. But now she's here with him. And he can't believe just how wrong he was.

In the dark room, lit only by fairy lights and the stars on the ceiling, Tara and Gar danced. They swayed back and forth, shuffling their feet in a pattern neither of them quite knew. The way they were dancing wasn’t important, after all. They were content just to be together, no matter what they were doing.

“How’s this for a dance?” Gar grinned. “It’s not exactly prom, but-”

“It’s perfect,” Tara reassured him. With a sigh, she leaned forward to rest her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” He smiled down at her, running his hand lightly through her silky blond hair. “It’s no big deal, really. I’d do a lot more for you.”

When Tara looked up at him, tears shone in her ocean blue eyes. Tears he hadn’t understood at the time, mistaking them for happiness instead of sorrow. For affection instead of the dread of what was to come.

Leaning forward, she kissed him, so softly and sweetly he knew he’d remember that night forever. But like all the others they shared, it wasn’t long before the memory turned bittersweet.

~~~

Gar wakes up slowly. Why rush to return to his empty room and the aching hole in his chest? To the endless rain pouring down both outside his window and in his head?

But this morning is different. Today he awakens to cool jeans under his cheek and a gentle hand resting on his shoulder.

Gar’s eyes flutter open. No, he’s not still dreaming. He’s definitely lying with his head in someone’s lap. And when he cranes his neck to look, he can’t quite believe his eyes.

It’s Raven, of all people, who sleeps propped against the wall, head bowed and hair falling in front of her face, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her lips part slightly as she exhales quietly.

How does she do that? How does she find peace and control, the two things that have eluded Gar all his life? Especially now, when his world has shattered on the ground. He can’t imagine what the inside of his skull must look like right now. He doesn’t need to be an empath to know he’s a mess.

And yet Raven stayed. She pulled the pain from him, despite the havok it must have caused in her mind and the crick she’s totally going to have in her neck when she wakes up. She kept her promise.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so shocked. Maybe he should have a little more faith in his teammate. But honestly… Gar’d always thought Raven didn’t like him. That she only tolerated his presence. It’s why he can’t quite wrap his mind around it now that her actions say differently.

She could have decided to wait out the storm, could have let him push her away like the rest of the Titans. But instead she went miles out of her way to meet him in the dark hole he dug for himself.

When Gar closes his eyes, he can picture how she pulled his grief into herself, face creased in concentration. He can picture the single tear that rolled down her cheek, the first time he’s ever seen her cry. She hurt herself to help him. Why, he has no clue. It’s crazy. He’s lying with his head in her lap, for goodness sake!

I’ve gotta be a real mess if she’s letting me get this close. It’s all he can think of, that he looks so torn apart that she’s taking pity on him. Whatever the reason, he’s grateful.

“Rae.” She doesn’t stir. “It’s morning, sleepy-head.” Gar can’t help smirking. “And I think this is the first time I’ve ever been awake before you.”

“It’ll probably be the last,” Raven mumbles, still half asleep but falling easily into the familiar pattern of their banter. She pulls away from the wall, straightens, and immediately winces. Yup. Crick in the neck. Blinking against the light from the window, her careful gaze scans Gar’s face. Searching for the cracks.

“Are you okay?”

The world roars back to life around Garfield, the pictures and memories he’s desperate to forget flooding in.

“No.” He closes his eyes.

Raven lifts her hand from his shoulder. A pang shoots through Gar’s chest. Time’s up. She’s going to leave now, but he really shouldn’t be surprised. He is surprised she stayed this long though, that she answered a request he had no right to make. What was he thinking, anyway, asking the team empath to keep his chaotic mind company?

Gar’s about to sit up and let her go, and he knows she’s thinking the same thing, when he senses her hesitate. And instead of pushing his head from her lap, she pushes his hair back from his face.

As her cool fingers brush his forehead, Gar means to hold still, to listen to the part of him that’s afraid moving will make her stop. But the other side of him is so much stronger. It’s the part that needs to be reassured and held no matter who’s giving it, the part that’s been touch-starved by the hours locked alone in his room.

So Gar forgets who’s reassuring him and curls into it, seeking out more touch, more comfort. He presses his forehead into Raven’s side, letting her crisp cold wash away the muggy heat of his room.

Until he realizes what he’s doing. Never, in a million years, would Raven let him get this close. He’s totally making her uncomfortable.

You screwed up, you screwed, now she’s definitely going to leave.

But Raven doesn’t push him away. She stiffens, yeah, and she hesitates. Then she continues to stroke his hair. Her movements are awkward and unpracticed (he knows this is way outside her comfort zone), but there’s genuine care behind them. Gar tries not to purr when her fingernails scratch against his scalp in a way all the animal in him likes.

But it only takes a few seconds for reality to set in. Gar can’t ignore it any longer. Raven might be willing to stay and keep him company, but she can’t.

She has to go meditate so she can recharge. She’s told the team over and over that it’s not optional, and despite her incredible mental strength, Gar can feel the strain seeping in. The struggle to keep her mind level and calm after last night’s onslaught of emotions reflects in the tight control of her movements. She has to leave, and he can’t ask her to come back. Not after how much she’s given of herself just to be here.

Not when he isn’t sure if he’s even worth the effort.

“You should probably go.” Gar rolls off her lap.

Raven watches him for a moment, surprise altering her neutral expression and lifting her eyebrows a fraction. Does she think he doesn’t know how much of a toll her powers take on her? Maybe not. He doesn’t exactly act like he’s paying attention most of the time.

Raven’s mask falls back into place and she nods, rising from the bed. Gar looks away as she walks toward the door, unable to watch her go but too scared to admit he doesn’t want to be alone. Too ashamed to ask her to send Vic in. He’d never look at Gar the same way after seeing him like this.

Garfield hears the door swing open, but it doesn’t shut. He glances over to see Raven standing with her hand on the doorknob and studying him. Her eyes soften when he meets them, just the smallest bit.

“You’re not alone, Gar.”

Then she’s gone.

Gar stares at the closed door. You’re not alone. Just like he told her so long ago, back when they were still kids. Before their lives got so complicated and tragic.

What did he know then?

~~~

Garfield stays in his room all day. Despite the stubborn pessimist that she is, Raven hoped he’d reach out if given a little more time and space. That he would let his friends and teammates help instead of locking them out.

Apparently, she should have stuck with pessimism.

Raven has been reading the same line over and over when Victor flops onto the other end of the couch. She doesn’t need to ask where he was.

“This won’t last forever.” She lowers her book to give Victor her best attempt at an encouraging and understanding expression. “He’ll come around.”

Vic doesn’t even look at her. The frustration in his voice isn’t quite able to mask the pain. “You sure?”

Raven doesn’t have an answer.

~~~

It’s not her place and maybe it won’t change anything, but by the time night falls she can’t stand by any longer. If he won’t come out, then she’ll come to him.

Raven steps into Garfield’s room, edging around the pile of dirty laundry. “Victor misses you.”

They all do.

He’s lying in the same position as last time, on his side with his back to the door. Watching the rain that never seems to end. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

Though he can’t see her do it, Raven lifts an eyebrow. “Figured what out?”

“Why you like to be alone. Why you like the quiet. It numbs the pain doesn’t it? Calms the storm inside.” He crosses his arms and pulls his knees to his chest. “It makes it easier not to care. It’s safer that way, isn’t it?

Raven’s skin goes cold. But this time, it’s not because of her powers. It’s fear for Garfield and the way he’s talking. “This isn’t about me. And everything you just said? That’s not you.”

Gar rolls onto his back, cloudy eyes drifting to her face. “I just wanted to say I get it now. I’m sorry I didn’t before.”

This is not a time to freeze up, or wonder why in the world Gar chose to talk to the one person in the tower who is least equipped to help him. This is not a time to wish she’d learned something other than control and magic from Azar, such as how to interact properly with others. No, this is a time for action. To do something, to say something to help her friend. And maybe it won’t help. But Victor’s words echo in her mind.

Will it hurt?

Gar blinks, jaw falling open as Raven kneels beside the bed and lays her head on her arms, tilting it sideways so that she can meet his wide green eyes from the same angle. She needs to be on his level. See things from his perspective, both literally and figuratively.

“Quiet keeps the pain from getting worse. Solitude protects others from the storm.” She shakes her head. “But neither makes it better.”

~~~

Gar has never been this close to Raven before. Even when his head was in her lap she was still “up there,” her face a good two feet away from his. There’s always been a distance between them, both physically and emotionally, one that he could never figure out how to cross.

But now they’re equal, literally seeing eye to eye. Maybe that’s why Gar finds traces of... of feeling on the face he’s always thought battled Cinderblock’s for the title of stoniest. Or maybe the traces were always there. Maybe he just didn’t understand them until now. That’s true of a lot of things, actually.

He never thought of Raven’s distance as protection, both for herself and for her friends. But betrayal and loss really change a guy’s perspective on the world. So does a walk in his teammate’s shadowy shoes and even darker mind. Not that he’d ever tell her he could feel her emotions just as well as she could his when she used her powers to lessen the pain. She’d be mortified.

“I know it’s the last thing you want right now.”

Garfield’s attention flicks back to Rae, noticing the lavender color of her eyes as she speaks.

“But come downstairs. Please.” She drops her gaze, almost… embarrassed?

“Your friends miss you. They need you.”

Need… him? Gar can’t recall anyone ever saying they needed him. During a mission, sure, “Beast Boy, we need you to turn into a dinosaur,” but that’s Beast Boy. No one has ever needed Garfield.

He lowers his ears. “You need me?”

“Yes. We’re not a team without you.”

We. She’s saying we now. And he thought she’d prefer the team without him. Guess I was wrong about a lot of things.

Raven’s voice drops, and Gar knows what she’s about to tell him is important.

“What you said before, about not caring… I’m not supposed to care. It was the one rule I made when I joined the Titans, to protect myself and the others.” She tenses her jaw. “If I didn’t care, there would be fewer emotions to keep under control. And it wouldn’t hurt when the team told me to leave after they found out what I really was.”

As if we’d ever let you leave.

“Yeah. I understand that now.” Gar swallows past the lump in his throat. “It’s pretty smart, even though we’d never do that to you.” If I hadn’t cared about Tara, then I wouldn’t be hurting like this. My heart wouldn’t be shattered on the ground.

“No.” Raven shakes her head, frustration seeping into her voice. “No, it isn’t. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Gar scrunches up his nose, baffled, and she sighs.

“I’m not explaining this right. Garfield…” Her expression softens, and the mask falls away from her face. Completely and entirely. And for the first time, Garfield sees Raven, really sees her. No walls. No sarcasm or deflection. Just Raven, real and complete.

“I do care,” she confesses. “About you, Koriand’r, Victor, and Richard.” She looks away. “I care a lot. When it comes to the team, I’ve found it’s impossible not to.” Her brow furrows. “That means I’m going to get hurt someday, one way or the other. Something terrible will happen, or someone will walk away from the team, and I’ll feel like the world is ending.”

Just like I do right now.

“But it’s a price I’m willing to pay for my friendships.”

Raven pauses. Then she speaks slowly, as if realizing how she truly feels for the first time. “They’re worth it.”

Garfield’s mind whirls, set afloat in a strange new dimension where Raven makes eloquent speeches and shares heartfelt secrets. Where she cares about even him.

“You don’t hate me.” To Gar’s complete embarrassment, his voice cracks and the waterworks start. “I-I really thought-”

Raven’s eyes widen in complete horror. “Hate you? No! You… actually thought that?”

“You told…” Gar can’t say her name, images of blood soaked bandages flashing before his eyes. His hands tremble as he clears his throat and forces himself to continue. “Y-you said you used to.”

Raven falls silent. He can almost see her working through her thoughts. He had no idea how much went on behind her blank expression.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes I’ve been annoyed or irritated by you, especially during the first year. But I’ve never hated you.” She blinks and glances away. “It’s, um… kind of impossible, actually.”

For a moment, Gar forgets that Raven is Queen of No-Hugs and throws his arms around her neck. But this alternate dimension just gets stranger when she awkwardly pats him on the back in return.

Outside, the skies open up with a loud crash as the storm that the constant rain’s been threatening to bring all week finally breaks. Raindrops pound against the window in a steady rhythm while low thunder rumbles in the background. It sounds good. It feels like a release.

“I’m not going to lie.”

Gar lets go and pulls back, watching Raven’s face as she exhales.

“It will be hard at first. You’ll feel like you’re faking it every time you do something that makes you happy. But the joy will come back.”

“How do you know?” I want to hope, Rae. I want to so badly.

“Because you’re Gar.” She says it with finality, like that’s her whole answer. No hard logic or practical attempts to convince him. Just faith that he’ll come out alright because of who he is. Faith in him. “You’re stronger than you know.”

“Okay.” Garfield watches relief flood her eyes. She… she really was worried about him. “I’ll try.”

Five minutes later, Gar slips into the living room behind Raven, feeling oddly shy and self-conscious in his own home. But that only lasts the few seconds it takes for Kori to spot him.

“Garfield!” She flies straight at him like a rocket, stopping only inches short of running into him. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and she stretches out her arms. “May I give you a hug, please?”

“Why not?” Gar shrugs, blinking to hide his own tears. For once, he doesn’t mind how bone-crushing all Starfire’s hugs are. It’s never felt so good to have someone so happy to see him again. He’s never missed his friends this much.

The sound of Kori’s excitement brings Victor rushing in, Dick close at his heels.

A relieved grin splits the cyborg’s face. “BB,” he says quietly, holding out his fist. His soft brown eyes search Garfield’s face, still lined with concern.

With a start, Gar realizes how much he scared him.

“Cy.” He taps Vic’s fist with his own. “I’m… I’m sorry, dude.”

Stepping forward, Vic wraps him in a bear hug. “Man, don’t you dare apologize.” Is that… a sniffle Gar hears? “I’ve missed you, buddy.”

“Yeah,” Gar whispers into his best friend’s sweatshirt. “Me too, bro.”

After Vic releases Gar, Dick steps forward and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a brief but sincere hug. “Good to have you back, Gar. Whatever you need, just ask. We’re behind you no matter what.”

Gar’s heart still throbs. The pain is still there. He has a feeling it will be for a long time. But as his gaze drifts from friend to friend, from teammate to teammate, he knows he’ll be okay.

His eyes land on Raven. The slightest corner of her mouth turns up and she nods, reminding him that he’s not alone. He never has been.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

(Previous fic in series: Slow dancing in the Darkness)

(Next fic in series: The Sound of the Sword)

[missmarvelobsession]

Last Cigarette by Mothica, Au/Ra

Queen of the Night by Hey Violet

Lotta True Crime by Penelope Scott

Make Damn Sure by Taking Back Sunday

Watch The World Burn by Falling in Reverse

Thanks for the tag @wntrsnat ! I've been expanding my tastes so some of these are new and some of them are tried and true 😅

No pressure tags @themoonlitsojourner @milii-moi @justanothermarvelgirl and @wandaisfierce or @flakeybakey 🤭

list 5 songs you’ve been listening to lately and tag some people!

thank you for the tag @certifiedstray

not strong enough by boygenius

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but i have it by lana del rey

the last time by taylor swift feat. gary lightbody

rockland by gracie abrams

cool about it by boygenius

no pressure tags: @oushits @mywitchy-assassin @wntrsnat