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nikoadari · 2 years ago

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I Think I'm Dating a Fae, Chapter 5

March 18

Dear Diary,

We’re here!

We finally made it. I thought that flight would never end!

We touched down last night (technically this morning; it was like 4 am) and Sol called a cab to drive us to his house. I knew it was kind of out there, in the middle of the woods, but Sol never said his house was on a goddam mountain an hour away from civilization.

The kids slept through it all – lucky them – so we carried them inside and put them in the guest room, which will be their new room until we go home.

I don’t even remember crashing into bed ourselves. I was too tired to even write anything. It was definitely a mistake to take such a long flight. The kids weren’t ready, I wasn’t ready, Sol…well, Sol was ready, but he’s used to this kind of thing.

Or so I thought.

I woke up a few times in the night. I couldn’t really tell why; I wasn’t thirsty or in need of a bathroom break. I couldn’t even really tell if I was actually awake or just having a dream.

Sol was always muttering, though, each time I woke up. I didn’t understand much; it was in another language I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that one before, actually, but he sounded…frustrated.

He was facing away from me usually, but the last time I woke up he was standing at the window, still muttering to himself. I must have called out to him because he whipped around like I startled him before coming to me and kissing my forehead just like the kids.

That was the last time I woke up in the night.

It’s around 10 in the morning now, and the jet lag is making me just a little more prone to stabbing than normal. Sol offered to take the kids out while I cleaned up breakfast so I wouldn’t kill them all, so that’s great.

About breakfast, though. Apparently Sol hired someone to stock the fridge with groceries so we could eat in the morning?? How is that even a thing??? I know he’s rich but it’s the little things like this that freak me out the most.

I checked on them when I was done, and Sol was teaching Yasminehow to chop wood. Yeah. That’s right. Let that sink in.

Of course I went out there to ask him “what the actual hell is my seven year old doing with a hatchet right now?” but Sol just said it was “fine” and to “trust him.”

Am I insane? That’s insane, right? Yasmine didn’t look injured or stressed out or anything, but she’s seven!

Ramon was there, cheering each time the axe came down, because apparently five is “too little” to hold an axe but sevenis a-okay. God, if my children become axe-murderers one day I am absolutely blaming Sol.

The only reason I didn’t go absolutely haywire on all of them is because Yasmine actually split one of the logs down the middle while we were arguing. In one blow. With an axe. It was a small log (Sol made some just for her, apparently) but it was still cool and showed that she already had a good amount of control over the little hatchet. And the wood didn’t fly everywhere and hit us like I thought it would, either. It just fell right next to the old stump she was splitting it on.

I really hope she doesn’t become an axe-murderer.

Anyway, after that I figured it was probably fine. Sol was watching and the kids were having fun so I just helped monitor for a while until they finished. I was working up the courage to ask Sol about what he was doing last night, or if I was just having a weird dream, but then – you won’t believe this – Sol put his hands together like he was praying and bowed his head to the forest.

He literally said, “Thank you for offering us protection and warmth,” and then just started picking up the wood pieces like nothing happened!

And of course the kids started asking questions because, um, what the actual heck, and Sol told them, “It’s polite to say ‘thank you’ when you borrow someone else’s belongings.”

And he was just so…nonchalant. Like it was the most normal thing in the world to bow the goddam forest and thank it after chopping wood. Oh, and of course the kids, (my sweet, precious, polite babies whom I love and adore), of course they decided they should be polite, too, and thanked the trees.

Fantastic. Awesome. Unbelievable.

And you know I couldn’t tell them not to! If I did, they would be upset about me “being impolite to the forest” or whatever and I would be indirectly undermining Sol’s beliefs, too. How did we get here without ever discussing this?

I stopped questioning the fae-adjacent on weird woodland shenanigans a long time ago, and so has my family for the most part, but how am I supposed to explain our kids doing this when we get home?? When we went on a walk through the woods later Ramon and Yasmine thanked all the trees on the path for providing shade individually. It was a really nice walk otherwise, but come on.

Look, I’m not shaming Sol for being like this. I know he’s weird. I love him because of anddespite it. Kinda thought he was joking whenever he thanked the trees in the park for their shade, so it’s a little surprising, but…I’m just saying that doing this kind of thing is exactly why I’m questioning if he’s even human.

I blame myself. This is what I get for choosing to love an eccentric.

About that walk, though. Aside from the kids doing their thing (and Sol eventually told them that they should be polite to the animals by not disrupting them as much as possible. Translation: “be quiet”), there were some really strange things in the forest.

Sol still looked nervous, and he was jumpier than normal, too. He kept glancing at the trees and bushes like he was looking for something specific. Whatever he’s searching for, it’s never there, and I could tell he wasn’t happy about it.

Of course I asked what was the matter, but he brushed me off, saying he had spent too much time in the city. Okay, then….

There were some other strange things, too. Normal-strange this time, thankfully.

Why do I even have to distinguish that?

I never knew there were so many different types of mushroom. All the trees look so different than the ones back home. The air feels different, too. Cleaner. It’s easier to breathe out here.

It’s kind of eerie, that it’s just so quiet. Sort of. There’s this really loud, buzzing bug thing called a “cicada” that never. Shuts. Up. But even with that, and the river we found on our walk, when we all stopped and just stood there, I realized that I couldn’t hear much of anything. We’re so far from the city. I almost missed the background noise of it, but this is a nice change.

We stayed there for a while just watching the world do its thing. It was peaceful but buzzing with life at the same time, and just being there made me feel so strange….

And then Yasmine ran straight into the river. Almost. Sol caught her, and when he turned around he looked…I’ve never seen him so terrified before in my life.

But who wouldn��t be? She was about to just dive in without even knowing how to swim! The river’s pretty fast in the middle, and probably deep enough to sweep her away.

We both had to scold her for not thinking before she acts. I don’t like yelling at my kids, but this time I had to. If Sol hadn’t been there…I don’t even want to think about it. Sol almost seemed more afraid than I was. He pushed us all away from the water, so far we couldn’t see it anymore, and I heard him swear a few times in Spanish.

He almost never swears, especially around the kids.

Yasmine said sorry over and over again, and Ramon was clinging to me. I’m pretty sure we scared him by accident with the yelling. At least he’ll never do that. Yasmine promised she wouldn’t run in without thinking again. She was pretty shaken. She said she saw a fish in the river and wanted to chase it which, okay, I understand, but…Sol seemed the most shaken by that, if I’m being honest.

He was asking her questions about the fish. The color, if it had one or two fins, things that make no sense! I almost lost it when he started asking those questions, but when she told him it was purple he looked angrier than I had ever seen him.

He was done he told her to never, ever follow it again. He said it was a dangerous fish and that if she ever touched it, its poison would kill her. He only stopped when Yasmine began to cry. We both said sorry for shouting, but the important thing was that the kids understood the danger. We all had a hug and went home.

Sol said there are other rivers nearby and if they’re good today, he’ll teach them how to swim and catch the “safe” fish, the ones that aren’t poisonous.

We had a talk later. He never told me that there were poisonous fish here. He’d told me it was safe, and I’d believed him. He told me that they weren’t meant to be here. They’re invasive, and he hadn’t thought anyone would introduce them this far up in the mountains. That almost made sense to me, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye as he said it.

He always looks me in the eye.

I know Sol isn’t a liar. I do! Since we met, he’s always been 100% honest with me about everything, but this…I don’t know what to make of this.

#I think I'm dating a fae #writing #writers on tumblr #i think i'm dating a fae #nikoadariwrites #black woman writer #black writer #bipoc authors #autistic author #autistic writer #author #black autistic #black autistic author #writing community #I screwed up my posting schedule here somehow #sorry everyone #I'll be scheduling them from now on so it hopefully won't happen again #it's worked on patreon so far #patreon

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astralkoo · 4 years ago

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I love your work! Do you have any JJK or Jimin fanfics to recommend to us, besides yours? (I've read all of it at least 10x each lol)

First of all thank you so much, you’re an angel and I’m so so so so incredibly happy you enjoy my writing 🥺❤️ second of all do I ever!!!!!!! I’ve never made a fic rec list before so bear with me:

JJK

One Shots ;

Kiss it Better by @jincherie

(okay literally everything written by jincherie is amazing I am obsessed w her hybrid/supernatural fanfics, I’d definitely recommend you check those out but cheerleader jk wearing a FREAKING SKIRT just does something to me. And it’s so cute and funny and adorable and you just will absolutely love the all of the characters)

Bite Me by @jeonsweetpea

(where do I even begin? Vampire reader? Masochist Guk? How do I express my love for this one shot? I do not know. But I love it, very much and highly HIGHLY recommend. I’ve read it so many times it’s not even funny at this point. And it’s still one of my favorites ever.)

Euphoria by @jeonsweetpea

(I have a massive weak spot for anything android I think that is so freaking cool and this one shot was so good!!!!! Subby Android Jungkook is just heaven for me okay, like my wet dream. Sorry was that TMI? whatever, check out this one shot!!!)

Deal by @vinterjeon

Hopping Mad For You by @readyplayerhobi

(This is the fic that made me realize that all I needed in my life was bunny guk and I high highly recommend reading it (if you haven’t already) bc it is sososososoos adorable and guk is the most precious human/bunny ever to exist and I love it with all my heart)

Little Wolf, Pretty Wolf, Your Wolf by @readyplayerhobi

Knock Out by @gamerguk

(I remember seeing the teaser for this and being so excited and checking back every day for the full fic to be posted and then it was and all of my expectations were exceeded and I absolutely loved it oh my god it’s so funny and sexy and yes I recommend.)

Baby Boy by @gukptune

(this is one of the first guk fics I read on here so I have a soft spot for it :(( plus I love it and guk is adorable and sub guk is even cuter thank you and goodnight.)

Gold Rush by @nochugguk

Cardboard Castle by @kittae

(the image of jungkook sucking a popsicle has been burned into my head and haunting me ever since I’ve read this fic. and also I want to build a fort and cuddle w him in it. The perfect sexy cute combination.)

Dumbo by @cinnaminsvga

(this fic is wild bro, the reader is crazy bold and I love it and jk has nipple piercings and I can’t get that image out of my head it’s so sexy oh my god.)

Wintervale by @fantasybangtan

(ohhhhhhhhh my goddddddd I loved this one shot so muchhhhhhh it was so sexy and well written and ugh. Again, subby jk so I love it, thank you very much. It’s part of a series, and I’d definitely recommend you check out Taehyung’s pirate au too which is also phenomenal.)

Stay In Your Lane by @luxekook

(oh my goddddddd bratty kook is a big yes!!!!!! and this fic portrays that so well and I love love love it!!!)

Series/Multiple Parts ;

Freak-Quency by @gukslut [ Companion Piece : Boots ]

(he spits in your mouth and you punish him and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever read and I love it and oh my god yes + plus rockstar!guk is just something else yum)

To Tame a God by @vinterjeon

(holy fcking shit, this series is just *chefs kiss* immaculate in words I can’t even begin to describe. I’m a btch for a good werewolf au and the fact that kookie is a bit of a sub? yessir thank you very much plz check this out it’s one of my favorite series ever)

Bunny Troubles by @appreciatethefoolishness

(this fic is so freaking cute I can’t handle it. Bunny!guk and Sub!guk tied into one is almost too much for me to handle on its own but wrapped up in this adorable fic is just UGH you know?)

Bitchin’ by @kinktae

Flesh & Blood by @kinktae

(okay jungkook is literally a freaking zombie how sick is that? I loved Warm Bodies (both the book and the movie) so I love this series!!! It’s cute, funny, smexy and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it!)

The Doms Next Door by @tatertotthethot (ft. Tae)

(okay hear my out. I usually do not read dom!bts fanfic bc I prefer subby boys over dom boys, I don’t know why that’s just how my mama made me. But this fanfic— holy— oh my god how do I even— it’s so phenomenally written and so enrapturing and engaging that it just completely pulls you into the plot and you become invested and intrigued and holy fuck it’s so sexy and I really did like reading it a lot so even if you’re not so into dom!bts I’d say give this a chance and see what you think!)

Secrets of Silk by @nochugguk

(y’all wanna talk about camboy guk? Because I do. And this fic is freaking immaculate. I read it a while ago so I don’t remember too many specific details but dude, I remember just being hooked and absolutely loving it.”

Felicity by @nochugguk

For Science by @boymeetsweevil

(ugh I love love this series, it funny and cute and sexy and the perfect amount of messy and I def recommend checking it out!!!!)

If your into sub guk please check out @namsjunies fics, just all of them bro HERE is the link to their masterslist

PJM

One Shots ;

While You’re At It by @aureumjeon

(dudeeeee I remember seeing the teaser for this and getting hooked immediately!!! And then I read the actual fic and it was so freaking good!!!!! Pool Boy Jimin is something to behold, I must say.)

Florezco by @honeymoonjin

(this one shot is just so pretty. It is so freaking pretty. There is something so rhythmic and beautiful about the way it was written, the words and language used. The descriptions are beyond astounding. The plot as well is so amazing, you can see through every little interaction how their relationship grows and developed and it is so beautiful.)

Diary of a Bodyguard by @kernelmeow

Series/Mutiple Parts ;

Good Boy by @btssmutgalore

(if I’m going to talk about sub jimin, I’m going to talk about the Good Boy series, I mean come on that’s just a given. This series just— yes. The character development, the relationship growth, the ridiculously well written plot, just all of it. It’s an amazing read through and through and a definite must read!!!)

Handyman by @drquinzelharleen (ft. Tae)

(ohmygod I love this series so much. Jimin yum, reader is a boss bitch, the sex is right up my alley but it also has plot with ups and downs and I very much enjoyed reading it and perhaps (more than likely) you will too.)

Timid by @jincherie

(I melt every time. It’s so sweet, so cute, freaking tooth rotting. Jiminie is so precious and lovable and shy and I am so weak for him it’s actually not even funny. If you want cute hybrid jiminie, this is the fic to read, I swear you won’t regret it.)

Blood Rank by @gukptune

Baby, Baby by @hobiwonder (ft. Tae)

(bro, the relationship between Tae, Minnie, and the reader is just— wow. The development between the three is incredible and oh my goddd its amazing.)

Between Other Worldly Creatures by @btsjeonjazz (ft. Tae)

JJK + PJM

Humanity by @bts-trash-blog

(these hybrid babies are so precious bro I swearrrrr this fic gave me a roller coaster of emotions and I can’t wait for more parts to come out!!!)

Peach Blossoms by @pasteljeon

Abundance by @angelicyoongie

(okay, I know this is technically OT7 but oh my god, you wanna talk about one of the best hybrid fics I have ever read??????? It is so incredibly well written and the boys are a mess but an adorable lovable mess and guk is so cute and jiminie is a little shit but damnit I love it and I am so excited for when everything falls into place and they’re happy and lovey and sorry I am getting ahead of myself but if you haven’t read it already, it’s a must read.)

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luthienne · 4 years ago

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Hey, dear! Let me be one [more] follower who asks a few quotes about some things. Could you compile some (just a few, just a bunch) about silence and/or introversion? Thank you dearly. ♡

a compilation v close to my heart ♡

“Solitude: liberation from even the expectation of being seen.”

Kathleen Graber, The Eternal City: Poems; “The Telephone”

“For now she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of — to think; well not even to think. To be silent, to be alone.”

Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

“I thought of you—wished you were here with me but I get a keen sort of exhilaration from being alone…”

Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Cady Wells, featured in Georgia O’Keeffe: A Life

“But I love such days—rare lonely days. I love above all things, my dear, to be alone.”

Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry

“I am, oddly, happiest when alone for weeks on end talking to no one there, talking in my mind to the imagined listener who perfectly hears, perfectly understands, and talks back with equal truthfulness.”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

Amélie, dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet (2001)

“For a long time now, every meeting with another human being has been a collision. I feel too much, sense too much, am exhausted by reverberations after even the simplest conversation.”

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

“I have packed myself into silence so deeply and for so long that I can never unpack myself using words. When I speak, I only pack myself a little differently.”

Herta Müller, from The Hunger Angel

“I don't see much of anybody these days—I feel rather funny with other people—even those whom I care for. While one's heart is being transformed into a little world, one wants to be alone.”

Kahlil Gibran, in a letter to Mary Haskell, from Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell, and her private journal

Bella Akhmadulina, Fever and Other New Poems; “Longing for Lermontov” (tr. Geoffrey Dutton, Igor Mezhakoff-Koriakin)

“Perhaps I am addicted to solitude and feel safe and easy in it,”

Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

“…because there was too much silence within me. In those days I was alone,”

Clarice Lispector, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector

“My current silence interests only me. It touches too many parts of my personal life for me to explain it to you.”

Albert Camus, Notebooks (1951-1959), Vol 3.

“People love talking, and I have never been a huge talker. I carry on an inner monologue, but the words often don’t reach my lips.”

Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

“And what were they anyway, sprigs of grass, things of blue? For a long time I wanted to use words, then didn’t.”

Mary Ruefle, Madness, Rack, and Honey

“What words? What words can I trust to convey this fragile heart?”

Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries

Keaton Henson, from “How Could I Have Known”

“So much of what we live goes on inside– The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches Of unacknowledged love are no less real For having passed unsaid. What we conceal Is always more than what we dare confide. Think of the letters that we write our dead.”

Dana Gioia, Unsaid

“But I cannot help it. I only want to be alone. I want to be myself and alone and free to breathe, live, look upon the world and find it however it is…”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“… Perhaps love is to give one’s own solitude to others? For it is the very last thing we have to offer.”

Clarice Lispector, Selected Cronicas; “The Gift”

“I’ve never been afraid of loneliness because I’ve never felt the need to justify my feelings to myself. I accept the muteness of feeling too. I have huge respect for my own silence. I let it speak. I allow time to do its trick and lead me back to myself. I don’t want just anyone to share life and myself with me.”

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955

“Don’t allow yourself to be imprisoned by any affection. Preserve your solitude. If the day ever comes when a real friendship is bestowed on you there will be no conflict between your inner solitude and this friendship. On the contrary, that is the infallible sign by which you will know it.”

Simone Weil, First and Last Notebooks: Supernatural Knowledge

“…the most precious thing of all: solitude.”

Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star (tr. Benjamin Moser)

“She naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel herself for ever and ever and ever alone.”

Virginia Woolf, Orlando

Harold Pinter, Old Times

“Le Notti Bianche” (1957) - Luchino Visconti

“Solitude itself is a way of waiting for the inaudible and the invisible to make itself felt. And that is why solitude is never static and never hopeless.”

May Sarton, Plant Dreaming Deep

“O you—my sacred solitude!”

Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems; “Solitude (from Rilke)”

“It is curious for one who has been much alone—this sinking back into silence.”

Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry

“…I have backed up / into my silence / as inexhaustible as the sun”

Fanny Howe, The Lyrics: Poems; “O’Clock”

“All I want is silence, for myself and for the selves I used to be, a silence like the magical cottage in the forest that lost children find in fairy tales.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness (tr. Yvette Siegert)

Allison Stone, “Persephone’s First Season in Hell”

“…and the heart took shelter behind a parapet of silence;”

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema XLV” (tr. James O’Connor)

[Original: “…y el corazón se encastilló en un muro de silencio;”]

“I feel the same way about solitude as some people feel about the blessing of the church. It’s the light of grace for me. I never close my door behind me without the awareness that I am carrying out an act of mercy toward myself.”

Peter Høeg, “Smilla’s Sense of Snow”

“Solitude as necessity, demandable, honorable. Not sinful, indulgent, wasteful, undeserved.”

May Sarton, from a journal entry dated October 18, 1993

“And in that silence, what grace.”

Camille Norton, Corruption: Poems; “Savonarola’s Cape”

“and my chest appears translucent, / heart in its center, / cathedral of dust / and silence”

Milagros Terán, Las luces en la sien (tr. Fiona Griffin)

[Original: “y el pecho lo llevo traslúcido, / corazón en medio / como una catedral de pólvera / y silencio”]

Emily Dickinson, “I felt a Funeral in my Brain”

“I want to meet no one; I want to say nothing; / I want to go down and rest in the black earth of silence.”

Robert Bly, Eating the Honey of Words; “Depression,”

“You would rather have gone on feeling nothing, / emptiness and silence; the stagnant peace / of the deepest sea,”

Margaret Atwood, from “Eurydice,” Selected Poems II: 1976 - 1986

“I don’t know about birds / nor do I know the history of fire. / But I believe that my solitude should have wings.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, Tree of Diana, tr. Joseph Mulligan & Patricia Rossi

“For language to have meaning there must be intervals of silence somewhere, to divide word from word and utterance from utterance.”

Thomas Merton, “Disputed Questions”

“I have a need of silence and of stars. / Too much is said too loudly.”

William Alexander Percy, from “Home”

Camille Norton, Corruption: Poems

“—a space of virgin silence, a place of rest where I wait for myself.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, “A Night Shared in a Memory of Escape” (tr. Yvette Siegert)

#ask #anon #compilation #quote compilation #on solitude #on silence #unsayable #long post #i really did try to keep this short.... god #stay with me always solitude

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honey-coloured-passion · 4 years ago

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‘Til Time Do Us Part - KarlNap (DreamSMP)

1.7k words

Summary: Karl meets, and eventually falls for a kind stranger. (This is based on time traveler Karl from Dream SMP canon!)

“Where, where am I?” Karl felt his head spinning as he stumbled out of a familiar library. Glancing around he noted the heaps of books stacked on each other, there were paintings of different faces adorned on the walls, and there was a young man sitting comfortably in an armchair, staring right at him.

“Hi!” The stranger stood up, bunching up the papers he’d been staring at as he moved towards Karl. “You must be new to the library! I’m Sapnap.” the taller man stuck out his hand, Karl carefully took the handshake, noting the warm smile Sapnap was giving him.

“Do you know exactly where we are?” Karl didn’t quite know the question to ask, he barely knew who he was at this point. But Sapnap seemed kind and welcoming, he gestured Karl to follow him into an adjacent room in the library.

Pointing at a row of maps he began, “you’re in Dream SMP, look, this is where we are. Then there’s L’manburg, or what’s left of it, Party Island, the prison, and ooh! I just put the new hotel Tommy’s building here as well. Looks good huh?” Sapnap gestured wildly around the crinkling brown paper with a beaming smile. Karl studied the map hoping to gain some semblance of knowledge about where he was. But this map practically answered every question he had perfectly; little bullet points made note of important recent events describing actions he had apparently made in the past few weeks. It was a real-life summary of everything, all he needed to know, it was perfect.

“You made this?” Karl gawked at the masterpiece in front of him. Sapnap rubbed the back of his neck, “well I had a little help but yeah! It’s uh, nice to know what’s going on. You- I, I can be pretty forgetful you know?” and Karl couldn’t help but agree. Just ask he began to take another look at the map Sapnap cleared his throat, “would you wanna go check out Party Island? I know you’ll love to see what the llamas are doing today!” and Karl couldn’t deny he wanted to spend time with this kind stranger.

Quickly they had raced through the SMP to Party Island, Sapnap had led Karl through all the best parts of the world. They stole potatoes from a child named Purpled, sang songs with a strange naked man, and harassed various British children all before ending on the roller coaster in Party Island. Karl had gone from chasing after Sapnap to roaming the world hand in hand in just a measure of hours. As they rounded the day out Sapnap pulled Karl’s attention from the setting sun to his chocolate brown eyes.

Sapnap looked golden in the warm hues of the setting sun, flames danced in his eyes, and a light reddish color burned on his cheeks. Just staring at the man in front of him Karl felt his own breath hitch. Sapnap glanced down nervously, “I really enjoyed hanging out with ya today Karl, and I was wondering if you’d wanna, maybe, hangout again sometime? And! Also I got this from Puffy!” not leaving Karl a moment to speak he pushed a slightly crunched purple allium flower into Karl’s hands.

Karl felt warmth budding on his cheeks as he stifled a glowing smile at the beautiful flower, it was his favorite kind too. “Of course I wanna hangout more! We literally had the best time ever, you know all the best places and my favorite things it’s like you’ve known me forever Sap!” Karl grinned up at Sapnap who let out a strangled, but excited giggle. Karl shook his head with a grin and pulled Sapnap in for a hug. “Karl n Sapnap forever!” Karl shrieked into Sapnap’s shoulder, trying to contain his ecstatic energy as Sapnap swayed him back and forth in the hug.

“Forever.” Sapnap agreed.

“Hello?”

“Anyone there?” Karl called out as he pushed open the door to a strange and dusty library. A handsome stranger gave him a dashing grin as he stood up, pulling together the papers he was writing in.

“Hey! Welcome to the library!” the man stuck out a hand which Karl took with a warm smile. “Have I seen you before? This is crazy but I swear you were like totally in a dream I just had!” Karl looked up at the stranger with a smile, but the man calmly shook his head, “I get that sometimes, but I don’t think so! Name’s Sapnap.” Karl promptly introduced himself as well.

"Say, do you know where I am? My head's kinda fuzzy." Karl gave the kind stranger a sheepish grin, but Sapnap seemed to grasp his question. "Follow me!" Karl was jolted forwards as Sapnap grabbed his hand, pulling him into an adjacent room with a whole wall covered in maps.

With his bearings set he agreed to help Sapnap look for a new trident in the ocean near a place called "Snowchester" it was the least he could do after Sapnap had been so kind to him, it's not every day a man with little to no memories appears in your library!

They spent the day splashing in the waves and resting on the shore. Karl was swept off his feet- twice by the waves and ultimately by Sapnap himself. The taller warrior captured Karl's heart with every blinding grin, flip of his ocean-damp hair, and kind but undeniably flirtatious words.

Come nightfall the two retreated off the coast to what Karl assumed was Snowchester. Spending the night sitting atop a spruce wood roof staring at the stars, Karl found himself more mesmerized by the shining warmth of Sapnap's eyes than any star in the sky.

Sapnap broke the silence, tilting his head to the left to meet Karl's eyes with his, "so, pretty good day huh?" Karl nodded, swallowing butterflies. "We should do this again!" Karl nodded in agreement again, mustering some confidence of his own, "we make a pretty good team huh? I could get used to you by my side." Sapnap just grinned in agreement, scooting closer to Karl, his arm slipping under Karl's head, letting him just rest in Sap's embrace.

Karl smiled at the moon, "this is definitely something I wanna get used to."

Waking up alone always broke Sapnap's heart. Usually there was some poor excuse or sign that Karl was whirled away from him. With a heavy heart he got used to packing up a days worth of necessities for two and heading to the library Karl had built all those months ago.

Except this time when he entered the library, he realized he wasn't alone.

"Quackity? Do you need something?" Sapnap was shocked to see a familiar face at such a secret location.

"You can't keep doing this Sapnap, it's- I don't even know- it's wrong." Quackity gestured to the library as if Sapnap didn't already know.

"I have to Q, what else would I do? Let him try to make it home to a place he's completely forgotten all alone?" Sapnap paused, taking in a shaky breath, "I'm not gonna let him forget our life together Quackity, I can't"

Quackity raised his voice, "like he doesn't forget every damn time? You're sitting here playing make believe with your fiancé! Don't you get tired? Isn't it fucking tiring having him fall in love with you over, and over again? How are you okay with this!"

Sapnap stalked towards his usual desk, collecting all the papers. "I love him Quackity, I'd do anything for him, and I trust that eventually he'll figure this time travel adventure shit out, I'm not gonna give up on our life together! How can you not see that?"

Quackity just rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. This is wrong, you're interfering with Karl's - I don't know - destiny, future, powers, whatever the hell you're calling it now. Sapnap he's gone. Don't you see every Karl you get is different? That's not your Karl anymore."

Sapnap was seeing red. "Get out. If I fucking wanted you here I'd find you. Don't you have banking business to attend to? Can't you let me have the one good thing in my life? He's Karl, he's my Karl. And that's all I need." Sapnap pointed at the door, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.

Quackity shook his head but headed towards the door. "You can't do this forever. Don't you think there'll be a trip where he doesn't come back? Or worse, he comes back unable to love you? Arent you just delaying the inevitable?" Sapnap sprung up from his chair, sword drawn, but Quackity quickly slipped through the doorway. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Plus, you don't want to miss those precious first words right? I saw your entires Sap, what's today's plan? Tame cats if I remember right?"

"Fuck you." Sapnap slammed the door, trying to collect himself. Some disgusting voice in the back of his head was reiterating Quackity's words, telling him all was lost and that he was only setting himself up for false hope. But, it only took a glance at the array of pictures scattered between entires in his own diary to see the reason he fought through every first date.

"Hello! Um, do you know where I am?"

Sapnap looked up from a messy stack of first date ideas and dream SMP memory reminders to see the beautiful man before him.

The moment they locked eyes was the moment that nagging voice in Sapnap's head subsided. Every time they locked eyes for the "first time" Sapnap remembered why he'd fight for Karl every day if he needed to. But, there wasn't time for fawning over the brunette an awkward amount.

"Yup! You're in the library! C'mon, there's a map you'll wanna see- I'm Sapnap by the way! And you are?"

"Karl Jacobs! Nice to meet you Sap! Gimme the tour you clearly know what's up! What do I need to know?"

Sapnap gave his unknowing lover a calm smile, "I gotcha! There's not much you need but here's a good map of the lands!" Sapnap took a moment of serenity to appriciate the gorgeous man in front of him before Karl spoke again.

"I actually think I got it! Anything else in this musty old place I should know?"

I wish you knew how much I miss you.

~ Fin ~

A/N: Poor Sapnap. This gives me 50 first dates vibes. Also I wanted to paint Quackity as a voice of reason/doubt because I think his canonical character is that level of serious and caring for both Karl and Sapnap and I imagine their trio may have split over Sapnap’s decision to continually woo memory-loss Karl, or they could’ve never even been a 3 way thing, it’s up to interpretation. Also, I wanted to know your thoughts! Is Sap doing the right thing? Is he really just putting himself up for more hurt later? I dunno. Hope you enjoyed! Comments n stuff in reblog tags make my day :)))

#karlnap #sapnap #karl jacobs #tales of the smp #karlnap fanfic #karl jacobs x sapnap #karlnapity #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #sapnap fanfic #karl jacobs fanfic #dream smp lore

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ezrasarm · 4 years ago

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Come Back To Me In Waking Dream

[ Day 5 | Angstaggedon Masterlist ]

Pairing: Ezra x Reader

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: Torn apart by the forces of the universe, Ezra becomes a ghost of himself.

Warnings: ANGST, hints at depressive episodes and thoughts of death, more angst. This is not an uplifting story.

Credits: A huuuuuge thank you to @din-damn-djarin and @chaotic-noceur for beta reading and letting me use them as a human squash court for me to bounce my ideas off of! The title is inspired by a piece of poetry written by David Keenan that preludes his song “Full Stop” and I thought it fit just right.

A/N: Not to toot my own horn or anything but... I hope y’all brought tissues.

As with any line of work, the longer you’re in it, the smaller the world- or in this case, the universe- seems to become. You and Ezra had made a number of first encounters through your years working the aurelac business. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, no matter what the precious gem associated with it might suggest. The work was rough and often fruitless. But, on those rare occasions that you managed to find a sizeable deposit in those tangles of rhizomatic roots- provided you had the skill to extract them, one, without killing yourself, and two, without damaging the delicate bounty in the process- you could make quite the pretty penny off of it. And you could make it fast. It was part of what made the industry so cutthroat in the first place. It was also entirely the reason that making lasting relationships, business or otherwise, was nearly impossible for you.

Both Ezra and yourself had gotten into prospecting and harvesting aurelac even before the rush. It seemed like your timelines were interlinked. You couldn’t stop running into one another if you tried. You could recall quite vividly the first time you saw him. His rich smooth voice and exuberant charm were not things that detracted attention from him. So he was hard to miss in the small, dingy convenience store on the freighter back from the Bakhroma system. When you finally acquaintanced yourselves with one another quite sometime later, he insisted he had seen you around here and there long before that. You argued that he must have been mistaken because you couldn’t possibly have failed to notice him and that peculiar blonde patch in his hair. And that even if you did, you would have heard him coming even sooner. “That,” he said, “is not necessarily true.” But none the less you managed to crack him up. He’s had a soft spot for you ever since.

You had gotten to know each other pretty well through the many drinks you shared when you found yourselves on the same planet and the odd job you would work together in between. You now knew him well enough that if you were feeling bold you might venture to call him a friend. Perhaps even admit that at times you thought you could be a little more than that. Although you would never have the nerve to say it to his face.

Then he disappeared. One moment he was on The Pug scanning the boards, the next he was gone. Funnily enough, the job he managed to scrounge up was one you had been eyeing yourself. You got pulled away on a contract with an old client of yours to do some appraisals and he set off for this prospecting mission of his. He said it would take a week tops and that he had something he wanted to tell you when he got back. Then you never saw him again.

You see, Ezra had just been working up the courage to tell you how he felt. He swore the next time he saw you would be the day he told you he loved you. That you were the star of his dreams when he slept and the object of his reveries when he woke. That practically every moment of every day he spent away from you he was thinking about where you were or what you were up to. None of this stopped when his pod crash-landed on Bakhroma Green.

He just needed one more job to save up to take you out on Kamrea, your temporary home when you could afford to live there. He had this grand plan to woo you with a nice meal and a necklace made from a small aurelac crystal he had harvested on one of the first jobs you had worked together. He knew how hard you pushed yourself. You never gave yourself a break. He thought it would be nice to treat you to more than just a drink in a bar for once.

It was supposed to be a simple job. Prospect potential dig sites, maybe even harvest a little while he was at it, then get the hell out of there. But none of that happened. Instead, he got stranded on that godforsaken rock. It was years before anyone came to his rescue. He lost his arm somewhere along the way. A rogue thrower shot from a skittish young sater. He was normally quite conscious of staying out of their territory but with the seasons changing, foraging for food brought him out of his comfort zone. The resulting infection cost him his dominant hand.

But his physical injury was hardly the worst of his ailments on his extended visit to the Bakhroma moon. He was quite positive he was going insane hauled up in the damaged drop pod that only served as a reminder he wouldn’t be leaving the forest moon any time soon. As he quickly came to find, he and prolonged periods of time without human contact were not a good combination. While saters and other prospectors may have passed through every now and again, he often had enough trouble bargaining with them for his life, let alone a ride off the dumb rock. They never stuck around long and they certainly weren’t talkative. His mental health took a nosedive quite early on. He took to talking to himself, writing to keep his mind busy. At his worst, he could recall experiencing fits of hysteria and even hallucinations. He had the delirious diary entries to prove it.

It was around the time he lost his arm that he began to lose hope too. The longer he was stranded there, the more doubt that there would be any way out at all began to creep into his mind. There were some nights where the thought of seeing you again, brushing that rebellious strand of hair out of your face and pulling you into a long-awaited kiss, was the only thing that kept him going. He could still see your face. The upward quirk to your lip and the light graze of your hand against his as you passed him by in the hall on his way out. You were in some big rush as you always were. You assured him you would see him later. All he could think of was how wrong that assumption was now. He never could have imagined that would be the last time he saw you. And now here he was projecting phantom memories on the blank ceiling of the pod, cursing himself for not telling you what he should have the moment he knew. He refused to let himself die without letting you know how he felt. Maybe he would be able to rest easier if you knew.

For the first couple cycles you worried yourself sick. The risk associated with your field of work was not lost on you. He wouldn’t just leave you like that- he couldn’t. You wouldn’t let him. But years had passed. It soon came time for you to confront the acceptance of one of two realities: either he was dead, or he had abandoned you. The thought confused you. He wasn’t yours to be abandoned by and yet the resentment that came with it stung you just the same. You couldn’t tell which hurt you more but you knew you couldn’t sit around waiting for a dead man. And if he was alive, you refused to spend another second pining over a man who would up and leave you without so much as a goodbye. So you swallowed your yearning, the nag in your heart that clung to the hope he would still come back for you, and you moved on.

When Ezra got off the Green he hardly recognized himself anymore. His hair had grown shaggy despite his attempts to keep it under control, there were patches of grey in his dishevelled beard, his face had thinned, and those were just the physical changes. It was one of the last sling-backs before they killed the Central-BG line for good. A Kaslo Porting team, dropped to scavenge for old scraps and parts they could mark up and sell second hand, stumbled upon his pod. He was deathly frail when they found him. With his food supply having long since been depleted he had almost poisoned himself by mistaking a species of berry for its edible cousin in his desperation. If they hadn’t found him sooner, the doctors on board the freighter couldn’t see how he would have survived. He wound up hospitalized for weeks.

After all that time with just one thought on his mind, he knew he had to find you. Upon being discharged he searched high and low for you. He felt foolish checking all your old haunts. It had been so long. But he didn’t know where else to begin. He checked with mutual friends and old employers. They all seemed too surprised by being in the presence of a ghost to give him a straight answer.

He went to just about every place he could think of, asking your name as though it carried the same weight to everyone else as it did to him. He was sure he had searched every last corner of the galaxy. When he kept coming up empty he began to doubt whether you yourself were alive. It seemed like he was the only who knew who you were. It was like you didn’t exist. It was like you never had existed. He went so far as to question if he had made you up. If you were merely some fucked up defence mechanism manufactured by his brain to keep him hopeful. To keep him from giving up so long ago as he had been tempted to do. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking. That would be admitting something to himself that he would never be ready to. His head would perk up if through the chatter of crowded spaces he would hear a laugh similar to your own carry across the room. He would lose his place in conversations when he would see a flash of hair not unlike your own out of his peripheral vision.

Then one day he found himself back on The Pug, scanning the boards the exact same way he had been the first time he laid eyes on you. He wasn’t actively looking for you. No more than he always was. But sure enough there you were. Your arms crossed over your chest and your gaze tilted upward to read the job postings that flashed by not unlike flight numbers in an airport. You had matured a little. You wore your hair differently now. Shorter than he remembered but he liked it just the same. Your posture had changed too. You looked calmer, more confident and at ease as you watched the boards. Not tense and nervous as you used to be when you lived paycheck to paycheck, desperate for every opportunity you could leap at. Life had treated you well, he remarked to himself. As it should have. You looked just as beautiful as you were in that faded photograph of the two of you he carried everywhere with him. The same one he studied every night as he tried to fall asleep on those lonely nights on the Green.

He felt his heart leap in his chest when you turned in his direction, a graceful smile across your face and your arms outstretched. He felt the adrenaline kick in, like a jolt of electricity through his entire body. He realized then that he hadn’t moved since he had laid eyes on you, too startled by the long anticipated discovery to function. A hysterical grin had stretched across his face. He couldn’t believe he had finally found you. That you were there standing right in front of him after all he had been through trying to get back to you. He was just about to step towards you. To shout your name, take you in his arms and do what he should’ve done long before. That’s when a young tike, hardly three years old came darting past him, tripping over her own feet as she bumbled towards you at top speed.

Then it dawned on him. That smile? Those open arms? They weren’t for him.

You crouched and swept the child up in your arms, peppering her face with kisses as she giggled back at you. It was now that he could see the resemblance. The twinkle in the young girl’s eye and the way she threw her head back when she laughed were not foreign to him. A man he didn’t recognize came trotting after her, scooping her up from your embrace before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.

It finally occurred to him why no one had recognized your name.

You looked happy. The smile on your face made his heart swell as he watched you from a distance. He only wished that he was the cause of it. The realization struck him that he could never be that for you. A husband. A father to your child. Even if he wanted to, years of breathing in toxic particles does things to a man. Now he was too late anyway. He had never wished so strongly that he hadn’t taken that job, that he hadn’t boarded that pod and set off to Bakhroma Green. Tears stung his eyes as he choked back the confession welling in the back of his throat. He couldn’t do that to you now. You deserved better than the trauma of a phantom walking back into your life after all this time. And stood there, every semblance of hope he had harboured since your fingertips slid off his own in that hallway shattered around his feet, he considered something. He should’ve let himself die on that rock. It would have been a more merciful death than the one he had just experienced as he watched the very dream that kept him alive all that time fall apart in front of him.

[ Angstageddon Masterlist | Ezra’s Arm Masterlist ]

-- Angstageddon Taglist

@chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

#ezra #ezra x reader #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) x reader #prospect 2018 #prospect #angstageddon #angst week

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corkcitylibraries · 3 years ago

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Cork in Verse | Ana Spehar interviews Jim Crickard

Cork in Verse is a series of interviews by Ana Spehar with Cork Poets. This week Ana interviews Jim Crickard.

Jim Crickard’s poetry is camp, entertaining work that explores culture, sexuality and identity with a hint of colour. In 2020 he was invited to represent Cork in the Cork-Coventry Twin City Exchange, which was moved online due to pandemic. In 2019 he was selected by Poetry Ireland for the inaugural Versify series and performed to a sold out show at Dublin Fringe Festival. He came second in the 2019 All Ireland Poetry Slam Final (and is working through his feelings about it with a therapist). In 2018, he won the Cuirt Spoken Word Platform and was awarded a slot to perform at Electric Picnic. In 2020 his poetry was broadcasted on RTE Arena. A poem he wrote was shortlisted in the 2018 O'Bheal International Five Words Competition, and his work has been published in Automatic Pilot, A New Ulster, and Contemporary Poetry.

When did you start writing?

I started writing when was 16. I had just come out of the closet, my older brother Shane (20) died the same year in a road traffic accident. Looking back, I think I needed space for expression. I started out with a journal before sleep. It was playful, private, and helped organise my thoughts. I’d draw a little picture at the end of each entry. I acted a bit like Virginia Woolf, with a high-neck collar, writing solemnly by candle light. When people write diaries, I think they secretly fantasise them being found and read by the masses.

When I was introduced to poetry in my Leaving Cert, I found it to be a bit stiff and flowery with poets like Keats, which had some appeal, but when we moved on to Adrienne Rich and Eavan Boland I was a lot more inspired. It was seeing people use the art form to represent women and give voice to minorities, and how they both textured their work with the confessional. I started writing my own poetry at the end of my journal entries but kept it secret. After a few years, and my first break-up, I started sharing online on a site called AllPoetry. It was great because there were little competitions between users and when I won a few of them I felt brave enough to share my work on Facebook. A few people were kind, but most were indifferent.

When I started going to O’Bheal in Cork, though, I really felt like writing could have a future for me. Writing and performing alongside other writers really makes it a lot more gratifying and instils the self-belief you need to keep going.

Could you tell us more about your creative process?

I’m always on the lookout for something to play with and tease out until it’s a poem. I write with the intention of making people laugh when they hear me perform. Unfortunately, ideas rarely happen when I’m walking around day-dreaming. I mostly need to sit down and write to find the idea or follow whatever I’ve got on my mind. One of my favourite poems that I’ve written takes a hen party in a gay bar and expands it into a series of images and scenarios that delight me and make me laugh. If it makes me laugh, then I trust that it’ll make a crowd of people laugh. I didn’t start out with that idea of the hen party though, I was trying to write a rather embarrassing romantic poem set in a gay bar, it was for a guy I was briefly dating. Suddenly there was a hen party in the corner. They abducted me with their willy-straws and novelty-glasses, and I followed their embarrassing moments and social faux-pas as they ran around, interloping and ruining the sacred queer-space. I was much more interested in them than the romantic poem I set out to write. I suppose it’s important to trust where the poem is going and let it reveal itself. If I ignored them and focused on the poem I was trying to write then I’d have missed out.

How does the creative process of writing affect your mood?

I’m elated when it comes together. I love when I get into a flow and my fingers are typing as fast as they can and what I’m writing is surprising me. That doesn’t always happen though, it can be slow and boring and the cursor can be blinking in front of me waiting for me to write something.

How often do you write? Do you write every day?

I wish I wrote every day. I’ve heard multiple sources say that that’s the best way to approach it, and I would definitely believe it. I have had periods where I wrote a new poem every week, possibly more than one. I have also had long periods of not expressing anything on the page. The latter feels depressing and I feel my life passing me by. It is this dread I feel that I’m losing precious time to grow and improve as a writer. I rationalise it by reminding myself that I need to work full-time, clean my apartment, cook dinner, which is all true. I also excuse myself by saying that I need to relax and watch some TV or listen to a podcast. I think that writing is the purest of me-time and I’d like to transform my relationship with it.

Can you tell us more about Venus Envy?

I have been known to dress in drag from time to time... I performed as Venus for Pride in O’Bheal. Afterwards I went to The Crane Lane with all of the poets. It was interesting being a drag queen out of context in another bar... People wanted to talk to me, some random stranger touched me as they passed by, and someone confided in me with something they had not mentioned before. There’s a strange power to being in drag. It’s like being a shaman, a eunuch, a jester, who is on the outside looking in. You can say things that you daren’t dream of otherwise, and people love you for it. If I had the time and money to do it more often I would. Drag will always have a special place in my heart, and on my right arm is a tattoo-portrait of Panti Bliss, the Queen of Ireland. I’ve thought about putting more drag queens beside her, but it would be like Mount Rushmore of Drag on my arm. Who knows, maybe I will.

‘Hen Party in The George’

Be careful around the corners, don’t make eye-contact at the bar,

watch out for the mom, she’s on safari, in search of exotic birds.

For a parrot to echo her punchlines,

or maybe a cockatoo,

she’s prowling around the cocktail lounge,

she’s looking for me and you.

The mother of the bride uses her lazy-eye

to her advantage,

she edges into a group of faces with meandering conversation.

Now blocking their exit, unsure

who she’s addressing,

on about her gay hairdresser, how great

he is with the scissors.

“I’ve never had a problem with the gays now myself” she says,

pausing to sip from a pink plastic penis,

pausing for praise.

And one by one, the gays fly south,

migrating to the bar,

to the dance floor, to South-Africa if necessary.

“Snobs” she calls em -

“them gays can be awful touchy.”

All her Christmases at once

when the black crow drag queen

stalking her long legs across the stage,

seven foot tall, in a silver crown of feathers refracting light off the disco-ball.

“Jesus” she says, stealing the

microphone: “you’re looking better than me”

“I should feckin hope so” the drag queen says “you’re twice me bleedin’ age!”

Slowly, slowly, the hen party has pissed off all of the George...

Abandoning punctured plastic husbands all over the stage.

Flashing so many cameras it feels like E.T.’s family has landed.

A gathering parliament of lesbians encircles the hens,

a murder of goth gays come down from their perch

I wonder if they’ve seen Hitchcock’s movie, ‘The Birds…’

by Jim Crickard

Sex in the Housing Crisis

We are the generation of born-again virgins

headboards disturb housemates on shift work,

Air-traffic controllers should be included in rent

to coordinate times to get the ride

Landlords can afford to support our sex-lives

and change carpets once in a while

We are the generation of born-again virgins

Like ships in the night, we work to survive,

but we are no thirty year old cargo boats…

anchored in the harbour, waiting for labour,

we are Ferrari red speed boats

with miles to go before we sleep,

miles to go before we sleep.

We are the generation of born again virgins

Nothing kills the mood like mildew

home-sense is built on the backs of millennials

fumigating probate houses

converted into one-beds

with constellations of mould

and half their salary paid

to make out on an old couch

facing a microwave

We are the generation of born again virgins

If you’re living with parents you can forget it

unless you can face breaking their trust

and explain condoms in the toilet-drain.

We must not forget about our parents sex-lives

afraid their carefully considered bed springs

will be heard by their thirty somethings

Let’s give the government hell for

this inter-generational dry spell!

by Jim Crickard

#corkcitylibraries #CorkInVerse #JimCrickard

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cannedpoo · 4 years ago

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Anaïs Nin was an essayist and memoirist born to Cuban parents in France, where she was also raised. She spent some time in Spain and Cuba but lived most of her life in the United States where she became an established author. Wikipedia

Born: February 21, 1903, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France

Died: January 14, 1977, Los Angeles, CA

Dreams pass into the reality of action.

From the actions stems the dream again;

and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

- Anais Nin

There are very few human beings who receive the truth,

complete and staggering, by instant illumination.

Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment,

on a small scale, by successive developments,

cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.

- Anais Nin

No more walls.

- Anais Nin

Age does not protect you from love.

But love, to some extent, protects you from age.

- Anais Nin

Life is truly known only to those who suffer,

lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

- Anais Nin

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious,

and they must be brought into connection with action.

They must be woven together.

- Anais Nin

When we blindly adopt a religion,

a political system, a literary dogma,

we become automatons. We cease to grow.

- Anais Nin

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

- Anais Nin

Anything I can not transform

into something marvelous, I let go.

- Anais Nin

Good things happen to those who hustle.

- Anais Nin

I say all that happens is wonderful.

- Anais Nin

When ordinary life shackles me,

I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

- Anais Nin

The only abnormality is the incapacity to love.

- Anais Nin

When you make a world tolerable for yourself,

you make a world tolerable for others.

- Anais Nin

We travel, some of us forever, to seek

other states, other lives, other souls.

- Anais Nin

Dreams are necessary to life.

- Anais Nin

What I cannot love, I overlook.

Is that real friendship?

- Anais Nin

Do not seek the because -

in love there is no because,

no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

- Anais Nin

I know why families were created with all their imperfections.

They humanize you.

They are made to make you forget yourself occasionally,

so that the beautiful balance of life is not destroyed.

- Anais Nin

Throw your dreams into space like a kite,

and you do not know what it will bring back,

a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

- Anais Nin

Each friend represents a world in us,

a world possibly not born until they arrive,

and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

- Anais Nin

Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious,

one should preserve it.

- Anais Nin

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because

we don't know how to replenish its source.

It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.

It dies of illness and wounds;

it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

- Anais Nin

Anxiety is love's greatest killer.

It makes one feel as you might

when a drowning man holds unto you.

You want to save him, but you know

he will strangle you with his panic.

- Anais Nin

I, with a deeper instinct,

choose a man who compels my strength,

who makes enormous demands on me,

who does not doubt my courage or my toughness,

who does not believe me naive or innocent,

who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

- Anais Nin

Love men and women not for their strength

but their softness,

not for their fullness but their hunger,

not for their plenty but their need.

- Anais Nin

(paraphrase)

I have the right to love many people at once

and to change my prince often.

- Anais Nin

Reality doesn't impress me.

- Anais Nin

Music melts all the separate parts of our bodies together.

- Anais Nin

Reality doesn't impress me.

I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy,

and when ordinary life shackles me,

I escape, one way or another.

No more walls.

- Anais Nin

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all,

there is only the meaning we each give to our life,

an individual meaning, an individual plot,

like an individual novel, a book for each person.

- Anais Nin

People living deeply have no fear of death.

- Anais Nin

The personal life deeply lived

always expands into truths beyond itself.

- Anais Nin

If what Proust says is true,

that happiness is the absence of fever,

then I will never know happiness.

For I am possessed by a fever

for knowledge, experience, and creation.

- Anais Nin

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say,

but what we are unable to say.

- Anais Nin

There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend

reality by imagination, as I try to do.

- Anais Nin

I postpone death by living, by suffering,

by error, by risking, by giving, by loving.

- Anais Nin

Living never wore one out

so much as the effort not to live.

- Anais Nin

The poet is one who is able to keep

the fresh vision of the child alive.

- Anais Nin

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

- Anais Nin

Ordinary life does not interest me.

I seek only the high moments.

I am in accord with the surrealists,

searching for the marvelous.

- Anais Nin

I am so thirsty for the marvelous

that only the marvelous has power over me.

- Anais Nin

The dream was always running ahead of me.

To catch up, to live for a moment

in unison with it, that was the miracle.

- Anais Nin

We don't have a language for the senses.

Feelings are images,

sensations are like musical sounds.

- Anais Nin

I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness.

- Anais Nin

It's all right for a woman to be, above all, human.

I am a woman first of all.

- Anais Nin

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.

We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly.

We grow partially. We are relative.

We are mature in one realm, childish in another.

- Anais Nin

To write is to descend, to excavate, to go underground.

- Anais Nin

Jazz is the music of the body.

- Anais Nin

I made no resolutions for the New Year.

The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning

and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.

- Anais Nin

The final lesson a writer learns is that

everything can nourish the writer.

The dictionary, a new word, a voyage, an encounter,

a talk on the street, a book, a phrase learned.

- Anais Nin

I am an excitable person who only

understands life lyrically, musically,

in whom feelings are much stronger as reason.

- Anais Nin

If all of us acted in unison as I act individually

there would be no wars and no poverty.

I have made myself personally responsible

for the fate of every human being who has come my way.

- Anais Nin

I will not be just a tourist in the world of images,

just watching images passing by which I cannot live in,

make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.

- Anais Nin

My diary is a mirror telling the story of a dreamer who,

a long long time ago went through life the way one reads a book.

- Anais Nin

We write to taste life twice,

in the moment, and in retrospection.

- Anais Nin

I am in a beautiful prison from which

I can only escape by writing.

- Anais Nin

A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning,

as if supported by the rays of the sun,

a bird settled on the fire escape,

joy in the task of coffee,

joy accompanied me as I walked.

- Anais Nin

The body is an instrument which

only gives off music when it is used as a body.

Always an orchestra, and just as music traverses walls,

so sensuality traverses the body and reaches up to ecstasy.

- Anais Nin

If you do not breathe through writing,

if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing,

then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

- Anais Nin

I write emotional algebra.

- Anais Nin

Truth is something which can't be told in a few words.

Those who simplify the universe

only reduce the expansion of its meaning.

- Anais Nin

It is the function of art to renew our perception.

What we are familiar with we cease to see.

The writer shakes up the familiar scene,

and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.

- Anais Nin

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing

but in the midst of living.

- Anais Nin

How wrong is it for women to expect

the man to build the world she wants,

rather than set out to create it herself.

- Anais Nin

The child in me could not die as it should have died,

because according too legends it must find its father again.

The old legends knew, perhaps, that in absence

the father becomes glorified, deified, eroticized,

and this outrage against God the Father has to be atoned for.

The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human,

as man who created a child and then, by his absence,

left the child fatherless and then Godless.

- Anais Nin

2 notes · View notes

nicolewrites · 5 years ago

Text

We Stand, Fate-Tested - VII

Mystery. Intrigue. Plot Parallels. Enjoy.

My last final is tomorrow and I should have studied instead of writing this, but oh well.

Rating: T+ Genre: Mystery, Friendship, Romance Characters: [Byleth/My Unit, Dimitri B.], [Byleth/My Unit, Claude R.] Words: 6,488

A trip to Fhirdiad meets an unexpected end. / Where there are friends, there are enemies hiding beneath.

AO3 | FFN

VII - What’s A Little Fear

Fhirdiad National Museum of Unification, Fhirdiad - 22 Pegasus Moon, 733 AU

“It’s a beautiful sword, isn’t it?”

Byleth tore her eyes from the relic of the old ages to glance at Claude who had just joined her. He was studying the artifact in front of them with a now-familiar analytical gaze. Byleth nodded and turned back to it. She had been to the museum in the capital once before, but the Guardian’s Sword was such an iconic relic that the room it was kept in was always completely packed solid, so she hadn’t gotten a chance to get a close up look at it.

“It is,” she agreed with Claude.

He glanced around the room, noting its emptiness, and then looked back at the sword. “This isn’t exactly how I thought I would be seeing it for the first time. I had imagined more people and much more noise.”

Byleth smiled faintly at that. “What? You don’t enjoy the quiet of this place before it’s open to the public?” Claude shrugged. “It’s almost disconcerting.”

Byleth nodded. “Last time I was here I didn’t get to see many of the things that I wanted to see because there were too many people. I didn’t think we’d get to be in here before opening today while they prepared the supplies for us.”

Claude hummed his agreement. “It’s strange, for sure. I spent a fair amount of my childhood in the capital, but there was a part of me that never wanted to come here.” Byleth was surprised at that. “Considering how much time you told me you spent in the galleries, that’s surprising to me.”

Claude shrugged again. “I don’t know, maybe I just preferred Almyra’s description of them, not this blurry, half-assed monument to their accomplishments.”

Byleth considered his words. There was certainly a stark difference between the Almyran and Fódlani representations of the Unification Era. Almyra seemed set on preserving and respecting the ages while Fódlan was always more interested in analyzing it and interpreting things. It made for interesting contrasts in records of historical events, especially since so much of Fódlan’s precious written history had been destroyed in two disasters: the Scorch and the Riots.

“Where are Edelgard and Dimitri?” Byleth asked Claude after another moment.

Claude turned and pointed at the doorway to the room. This room wasn’t a particularly large exhibit as it held the Guardian’s Sword and a few things that were supposed to be personal relics that had belonged to the Guardian of Order including an old, rust-speckled silver shield and a very old, very worn leather diary in a glass case. The words on its pages were far too worn to read and Byleth was still shocked that the pages hadn’t turned to dust a hundred years ago.

Byleth walked in the direction Claude was pointing, heading back into the main room of this particular exhibit. True to his word, Edelgard and Dimitri were standing on the far side of the room studying a few of the artifacts in particular. Claude kept pace with her as she walked towards them, glancing at the room’s artifacts as she went.

This was the Relic Room. Not counting the Guardian’s Sword, every single Relic that had been created was supposed to be stored here. There were 12 of them in total and each had a name and a history. They were almost frightening to look at with their bone-like design and Byleth knew they had likely been incredibly powerful in their time.

Dimitri and Edelgard both appeared to be studying the three Relics that were the centrepieces of the exhibit: a bow, a lance, and an axe. Neither of them noticed Byleth coming so she cleared her throat, catching their attention.

“The Lords’ Relics,” she explained. “Failnaught, Areadbhar, and Aymr.”

Edelgard nodded and Dimitri turned his gaze to Byleth as if he was waiting for her to explain more. “Supposedly wielded by the King of Dawn, the Saviour King, and the last Emperor of the Adrestian Empire.”

“This one looks slightly different,” Edelgard mused, assessing Aymr with a careful glance.

“It is,” Claude agreed. “Records show that Aymr was supposedly the only one of these 12, including the Guardian’s Sword, that was not wielded by one of Fódlan’s Ten Elite,” he explained.

“I wonder who created it,” Dimitri pondered thoughtfully.

Edelgard frowned. “And why.”

Byleth nodded. “Both good questions. Unfortunately, those answers likely burned with Garreg Mach in the Scorch.” She glanced at the Relics, noting the brutally sharp edges that remained even after more than 700 years of not being used. “They would have been something else in their time.”

Dimitri looked hard at Areadbhar. “I’ve been to this museum half a dozen times in my life and yet this is the first time I can truly say that this feels familiar,” he said quietly.

“Familiar?” Edelgard pressed, her lips pursing.

“It’s like you’ve seen it before but you can’t place when or where,” Claude supplied for Dimitri. “Like you have some memory of holding it, but you don’t know why.”

Byleth glanced at Claude who seemed fixated on Failnaught, the bow. His gaze was analytical and almost the tiniest bit wistful. She looked back at the weapons and considered the strange dreams of the throne and the vivid vision she’d had during the dig.

“I feel the same,” Edelgard admitted after a moment.

Byleth looked between the three students and the weapons of the Lords from the Unification Era. “The Guardian of Order was the one who called for their collection together,” she explained. Dimitri looked at her, but Edelgard and Claude remained fixated on the Relics. “What is it about them that caused her to call for their collection after her husband died?”

Claude hummed. “You’re saying you think the Relics played directly into how the Saviour King died?”

Byleth considered his words. “I don’t know,” she replied. “If the Relics were truly the weapons of trusted companions and allies of hers, I don’t see why she would have had any reason to call for their collection except if they were dangerous.”

“There were always legends in my family that it was an attempt at a centralization of power,” Edelgard added. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “But, then again, my family apparently had never been particularly fond of the Church or the former Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Edelgard shrugged. “Apparently I’m descended from some distant former Adrestian nobles.”

Her surprise must have shown on her face because Claude laughed. “Come on, Teach, didn’t you know? You’re standing before the next generation of the old lords,” he said teasingly.

Byleth swept her gaze to Dimitri who had taken a sudden interest in his shoes. He felt her gaze and his shoulders tensed imperceptibly. “It’s true,” he agreed. “I, myself, happen to be able to trace my own lineage back to close relatives of the Saviour King.” Dimitri looked back at Areadbhar. He shook his head. “Maybe that’s why all of this feels familiar.”

Before Byleth could comment further, someone cleared their throat nearby and the four of them turned to see one of the museum curators that had let them into the exhibit early standing a few feet away.

“Miss Eisner, we have the supplies that Dr. Cichol requested ready for you now.”

Byleth straightened. “Great, thank you.” The curator turned to leave and Byleth followed him. Something in her stomach twisted as she walked past the Guardian’s room of the exhibit. She glanced through the doorway towards the ancient sword before shaking her head and continuing after the curator.

The supplies that Seteth had requested mostly included extra tools and marking supplies since the University wasn’t well-equipped for a dig of the scale that they were proceeding with. There were five boxes of tools and Byleth immediately sent the three students to work carrying them out to Edelgard’s car while she signed off on the transfer with the curator.

As she scrawled her signature on the last line on the clipboard, the curator gave her a warm smile. “The museum is very excited by the work your mentor is doing,” he said idly as Dimitri grabbed the last box and headed out the side door again.

Edelgard didn’t reappear, apparently having stayed in the car, but Claude reappeared in the doorway and watched the interaction curiously.

Byleth smiled faintly. She had the beginning of a headache pulsing at the back of her head, but she shook it away. “It’s exciting to be a part of,” she agreed. “History deserves to be preserved.”

She was about to walk away when the curator continued: “We’re glad you’re a part of it too, getting to continue your father’s work.”

She tensed and turned back to him, biting her tongue so sharply she almost drew blood. “My father?”

Claude stepped more fully into the room, looking deeply intrigued. The curator gave a tight smile. “Your father did quite a bit of security work for our sponsored expeditions. We were sorry to hear of his passing.”

Byleth frowned and felt another pang of pain in her head, closer to her temple. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Miss Eisner,” the curator said as a farewell, turning back to the microscope on the desk in front of him.

Byleth swallowed hard at the clear dismissal and turned to head out to the car. Claude gave her a concerned look that seemed to ask her how she was feeling. Byleth shook her head and brushed past him to the exterior of the museum where Edelgard was parked in the loading bay.

Since it was her car, Edelgard was driving. Dimitri had claimed shotgun, citing his long legs and the need for more space. Claude had complained during the trip to Fhirdiad, but both of his friends had ignored him, relegating him to the backseat with Byleth. Byleth slid into the backseat again, careful of the box of trammels and shovels balanced on the middle seat, and pulled out her phone.

She shot Seteth a text saying that they had the supplies and were about to head out on their return trip. Claude slid in next to her and Byleth ignored the looks exchanged between him, Dimitri, and Edelgard in regards to her sudden mood change. She worried her teeth against her bottom lip as Edelgard started the car and pointedly looked away from Claude. She didn’t particularly feel like having Claude dissect her current mental state.

The trio managed to keep an easy conversation for the first hour of the trip out of the city, chatting about the classes they were taking that semester and what their plans were for their first summer as graduates. Byleth listened, but she didn’t contribute. Apparently Edelgard and Dimitri were both planning on being in Fhirdiad and looking for work in the capital. Claude, on the other hand, seemed particularly evasive, not committing to either staying in Fódlan or returning to Almyra.

As they finally managed to maneuver out of the Sunday morning traffic in the capital and onto the main road back towards Garreg Mach, Edelgard looked at something in the rearview mirror and frowned. “What is it?” Byleth asked, noting the troubled look.

Edelgard sighed tightly. “I’m probably imagining things, but I could have sworn I saw that black SUV behind us back at the museum.”

Byleth glanced out the rear window and noted the large car that was tailing them. It wasn’t particularly close or threatening, but she did note that both the driver and the passenger were wearing dark-coloured baseball caps. She narrowed her eyes. “Weird,” she muttered.

Claude had also taken a look out the back window and he scowled. “I recognize the license plate. You’re right, Edel.”

“Maybe they’re just headed in the same direction as us,” Dimitri said, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced of his own words. “It is a Sunday,” he excused.

Nothing more was said on the black SUV as Edelgard focused back on the road, but there was an undeniable blanket of tension that had settled around them. Byleth found herself glancing back every few minutes to check on the vehicle, but it had followed them onto the southbound highway.

It kept a safe distance, so eventually, Byleth conceded that Dimitri had probably been correct in assuming that it was just more people headed back towards the University at the end of the weekend. After another hour had passed, they managed to slip back into a lighter conversation. Claude quizzed Byleth on the dig and Seteth’s developing plans for moving out of the main room.

Edelgard poked fun at Dimitri and Claude and Byleth ended up hearing her fair share of stories of the three of them from when they were younger and some of the stupid things they did as kids. Dimitri talked about his childhood friends Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid and Claude explained the first time that he visited Fódlan and some of the shenanigans that had occurred when he had first met his friend Hilda.

The SUV behind them disappeared after about hour four, taking an exit going east instead of continuing south. They stopped for lunch at a rest stop and picked up a few snacks to eat for dinner. Dimitri had offered to drive for the remaining half of the trip, but Edelgard had waved him off, claiming she wanted control of her own car. When they had been stopped, Claude commented that since they had gotten out of the city earlier than expected they would be back before dinner.

Dimitri had brightened up and suggested that they take the lower road which would take them a bit further east before continuing south since it would allow them to skirt the edge of the mountains on a bit of a scenic route. Claude had been indifferent, but Edelgard had seemed interested in the detour, mentioning she had never spent much time in the northeast. Having done some travel with her father years ago, Byleth knew the road Dimitri was talking about and agreed it might be a nice break.

They had set out around one in the afternoon and had driven for a few hours before reaching the lowest parts of the mountains. The views were beautiful and they reminded Byleth of the times she had come camping with her father in these parts. She smiled faintly as the hills rolled by and Claude poked her in the arm.

“You look happy,” he said quietly so that Dimitri and Edelgard didn’t hear him over the radio and the hum of the engine.

Byleth shrugged. “I did this drive with my father almost ten years ago,” she confessed. “It’s pretty.”

Claude smiled. “Yeah,” he agreed. He looked out the back window to admire the view behind them and his expression slackened into surprise.

“Claude?” Byleth prompted. He didn’t reply so she turned to look out the back herself. There was a black SUV on the road around 50 metres behind them. She made eye contact with Claude and felt her mouth go dry.

“Edelgard,” Claude began calmly, “you should pull over and let this guy pass us.”

Edelgard and Dimitri both glanced back and Edelgard went tense immediately. Byleth watched her swallow tensely. “Yeah,” she muttered, flicking on her signal light and pulling into the shoulder.

A roar from the road ahead of them caused all four of them to go rigid. Byleth’s hands shot to the back of Dimitri’s seat as she watched in horror as a second black SUV raced to meet them head-on, driving on the wrong side of the road. Edelgard jerked the wheel sharply to the left, swerving into the wrong lane to avoid the car as she swore loudly. The oncoming SUV screamed past, swerving back into its lane.

Before Edelgard could right the car, Claude let out a cry of alarm as he looked out the back window. “Look out!”

It was too late to react as the SUV behind them had accelerated to smash the back half of Edelgard’s car. Byleth’s knuckles tightened violently on Dimitri’s seat in front of her as the car spun. Edelgard frantically turned the wheel, trying to control the spin of the vehicle, but the SUV rammed them again and she lost control.

The car spun back across the correct lane and into the shoulder before the front of the car on the driver’s side clipped the guardrail and the tires squealed out. The rail groaned from the impact as the rest of the car spun violently around the pivot point, colliding with the guardrail. Claude’s arm shot out and his hand landed on top of Byleth’s on the back of Dimitri’s seat as someone in the car screamed. The guardrail gave out this time, sending the car spinning dangerously into the ditch on the side of the road.

There was another heavy screech of the tires on the edge of the pavement and gravel before the box in the middle of the backseat rose from the force of the bump and slammed into Byleth. The impact slammed her head against the window hard enough that she saw stars. The car rolled with a sickening crunch and Byleth’s head cracked against the window again and her vision went completely dark.

It felt like someone was using a jackhammer on the inside of her skull when Byleth forced her eyes open again. Her whole body ached and she blinked heavily. The window next to her had shattered, but at least the vehicle was the right way up. Ignoring the sharp pain in her neck, Byleth assessed the rest of the car.

They had swerved clear off the road and past the barrier, landing in the ditch which had triggered a small rockfall that had landed mostly on the driver’s side of the car. Edelgard’s airbag had deployed and Byleth’s stomach twisted as she noted the other girl was limp against the deployed bag. She turned her gaze to Claude who appeared mostly pinned between the heavy box of excavation supplies and the mangled door of the car from the rocks. He also appeared to be out cold

With shaking hands, she removed her seatbelt and leaned forwards to try and check on Dimitri. From directly behind him, she couldn’t see his face, but she let her hands grab at his shoulders. After a brief pause, one of his hands came up to touch her hands. Byleth exhaled in relief.

“Are you alright?” she asked him.

Dimitri didn’t reply and Byleth’s gaze flickered out the broken windshield of the car. There was a faint trail of smoke emitting from the front of the car and she let out a string of curses. She immediately released Dimitri’s shoulders and tried to force her door open. She ended up having to swivel in her seat to kick at the door but eventually, she applied enough force to get the door open. It groaned on the hinges and Byleth scrambled out of the car.

She ripped the passenger side door open and her blood ran cold at the vacant look on Dimitri’s face. His head was bleeding from a nasty cut at his hairline, but his blue eyes were blankly staring straight at the smoking engine of the car. Byleth swallowed and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him out of the car and back into the moment. Dimitri was dead weight and Byleth cursed again.

She recognized the particular look of despair and dissociative emotion on his face and something in her memory clicked. She had felt the same when she had seen Monica Ochs had been found dead. He was relieving the darkest moment of his life when both of his parents and a close friend of his had died in a brutal car crash in Duscur.

“Dimitri!” she practically yelled. She grabbed his face and turned it towards her. He blinked slowly and she watched him come back to himself partially. She shook her head vigorously. “I’m not strong enough to get them out of the car alone, I need your help.”

Dimitri blinked slowly one more time before his expression steeled and he basically snapped his seatbelt in half before crawling out of the wreckage. He was littered with scrapes from the shattered glass and Byleth imagined she looked similar, but they circled the car, trying to find an opening in the fallen rocks where they could free their friends.

Dimitri managed to shove one particularly large rock away in a burst of almost inhuman strength and Byleth was able to squeeze close enough to the car to drag Edelgard’s door open. With trembling hands, she felt for a pulse on Edelgard’s slim wrist and nearly collapsed in relief when she found it. She looped her arms awkwardly around Edelgard’s and pulled her from the crushed driver’s side. Edelgard was limp against her and Byleth slowly extricated her from the crushed driver’s side.

Just as she was pulling her fully free, she heard a low groan and her gaze snapped to where Claude was coming to in the backseat.

“Teach?” he muttered weakly as he forced his eyes open.

Byleth let out a terrified and breathy laugh as Dimitri squeezed himself through the rocks enough to take Edelgard’s weight from Byleth. He carefully maneuvered himself and Edelgard back out of the rocks and Byleth set to work on trying to force Claude’s door open. She coughed against the dust and growing smoke from the front of the car. Claude rammed his shoulder against the door as best he could and glass tinkled as it broke further.

“On three,” she instructed. “One, two, three,” she jerked the door at the same time Claude slammed into it from the inside and they managed to pry it open enough that he could slip out. He buckled onto his hands and knees and gasped in pain, curling his left arm into his chest as soon as he was free.

Byleth practically grabbed him around the middle and hauled him away from the car and they collapsed together a few feet away from the wreckage as more smoke wafted up from the front of it. Strong arms lifted Byleth to her feet and she dragged Claude with her. Dimitri steadied Byleth and guided them both over to the guardrail where he had laid Edelgard’s prone form.

Byleth released Claude and started assessing Edelgard. She was alive, thankfully, but soundly knocked out as a result of the force of the impact. She turned back to the boys and saw them both sitting staring at the car in shock. Claude looked winded and in pain and the vacant look had crept back into Dimitri’s expression now that the immediate danger of the crushed and smoking vehicle had passed.

Byleth let out a strangled laugh as she watched the smoke from the car grow. It was going to catch fire and they were going to be incredibly glad they had crawled away from it. Claude’s head tipped towards her as she laughed incredulously. He gave a breathy chuckle and then winced at the pain it caused.

Byleth fumbled for her phone and dialled the emergency number as adrenaline pumped through her strong enough to ward off her pain.

- ~ - ~ -

Garreg Mach Monastery - 28 Pegasus Moon, 7 AU

Byleth was taking tea with Petra and Ashe in the courtyard when the news arrived. The couple was newly returned from Brigid and had brought a small contingent of their Blue Sun knight’s order to receive Byleth’s blessing. Byleth had been honoured that both of her former pupils still valued her opinion so greatly even after over a decade since she had been their teacher. They had spent some time in Fhirdiad first for political negotiations, but they had come by the monastery to see her after the fact.

Shamir was the one who interrupted them, tapping her knuckles against the latticework of the garden to draw their attention. Byleth stood immediately, acknowledging her friend.

“Your Grace, scouts report a party riding for Garreg Mach under the King’s banners,” Shamir reported.

Byleth was surprised. She was due to return to Fhirdiad in a week and she certainly wasn’t expecting a visitor on behalf of her husband before that point. Ashe also looked surprised, but Petra just sipped her tea once before rising to her feet.

“Dimitri is coming, then?” the Brigid Queen asked.

Ashe tilted his head towards Byleth curiously. “I didn’t know Dimitri was coming,” he murmured.

Byleth pressed her lips together. “Neither did I,” she admitted.

Shamir led the three of them towards the market at the front of the monastery to receive the party riding under the banners of the king. As soon as the party broke from the edge of the woods Byleth exhaled in surprise. She recognized the lead rider immediately as the tall frame of her husband. On his right was Felix, and Annette was riding just behind her husband. Dedue was at Dimitri’s right and Mercedes was behind them.

Byleth laughed in delight as she hurried down the monastery steps to greet them. The beat of wings above her announced the presence of Ingrid and Sylvain as well as Ashe let out a cheer as he hurried after Byleth. Dimitri barely managed to stop his mount before he was leaping off and lifting Byleth off her feet with a sweeping kiss.

She laughed into it and pulled back, framing his face in her hands as she smiled broadly. “What are you doing here?”

Dedue answered her as the rest of the party dismounted. “We heard Ashe and Petra were coming for a visit and knew that it would be nice to get everyone together while we still could.” He tipped his head to Ashe and Petra, who had joined her husband and was smiling.

“Plus, even when these two were in the capital last week, they didn’t get to see all of us,” Ingrid called out from above as she landed her pegasus beside Annette’s horse. Sylvain’s wyvern landed next to her and he grinned broadly.

Dimitri kissed Byleth’s hair. “And I think everyone needed a break from the parenting craziness as well,” he murmured lowly and she smiled.

“I suppose I better get a case of wine for the dining hall tonight, then?” Byleth asked. Though she had been enjoying Petra and Ashe’s visit as it was, there was no denying it was wonderful to reunite the original Blue Lions.

“That sounds wonderful,” Mercedes said brightly as she took Dedue’s arm. She glanced around the market entrance briefly, noting the individuals who had paused to watch the reunion. “Where are Flayn and Seteth?”

Byleth’s lips parted blankly as she realized Flayn’s departure wasn’t commonly known information. Seteth had gone on a brief trip to the Eastern Church, but had been due back that afternoon and was still nowhere to be seen. “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “They’re supposed to be back by now.”

Ashe shook his head. “Don’t worry, Your Grace, I’m sure they just got a bit held up. I heard Raphael, Leonie, and Ignatz were around those parts. Maybe they just got caught up with familiar faces.”

Byleth nodded, hiding her guilt in a plain smile. “Of course. Anyways,” she turned back to the rest of the newly arrived travellers, “I imagine you are all exhausted after that journey. I’m sure we can get some more tea set out for everyone.”

Dimitri’s hand curled around Byleth’s and he squeezed it. “That sounds wonderful, my love,” he said.

It was late in the evening by the time that Byleth finally spotted Seteth’s wyvern returning from the east. She excused herself from Annette’s vibrant story and the listening former Blue Lions to go and greet him at the stable. She didn’t see Flayn’s pegasus and a seed of worry planted in her chest.

When she reached the stables, Seteth was removing the saddle from his wyvern in stiff, choppy motions. Flayn was, as she expected, nowhere to be found.

Seteth must have heard her footsteps on the stonework because he called out to her before she even reached him. “She was there.”

Byleth’s steps faltered, but she shook it off and stepped to the other side of Seteth’s wyvern so that she could make eye contact with her friend and advisor. “She was?”

He looked tired and almost years older than he had when he had left for the Eastern Church. He reached into his bag and passed Byleth a folded piece of paper over the back of his wyvern. He turned to lead his mount into its pen, leaving Byleth to read the letter in Flayn’s curling handwriting.

“At least she met with you,” Byleth murmured as she reached the end of the letter.

Seteth sighed heavily. “I am not surprised anymore. She cares deeply and always has.”

Byleth smothered an ill-timed giggle. “I still can’t believe I never saw that during their time at the academy.” Seteth smiled faintly, but Byleth detected the sadness in his expression as well. “I have always liked Ignatz, so there could have been much, much worse choices she could have made. She tells me that she’ll find me again, and I don’t doubt it.”

Byleth glanced down at the letter in her hand. “She’ll outlive him, won’t she?”

Seteth nodded. “Yes.”

“Maybe next time she’ll be able to call you Father instead of Brother,” she offered gently.

Seteth’s eyes softened. “Perhaps,” he conceded.

“She’ll be okay,” Byleth assured.

Seteth nodded. “I know.” His lips tightened. “There’s nothing easy about losing a child, no matter if it’s temporary or not.”

Byleth’s chest tightened and she looked down, blinking fiercely against the sudden sting in her eyes. “No,” she agreed faintly. She swallowed and looked back up at her advisor. Seteth’s gaze had wandered towards the stables that were notably fuller than when he had left. “The others are here,” she said. She held out Flayn’s letter to Seteth again. “They’ll be sad to have missed her.”

Seteth took the letter and looked between the main monastery and Byleth. “Are you alright?” he asked after a moment’s pause.

Byleth forced a smile. “Yes,” she said. “I’m going to go to the cathedral. I have some prayers to make tonight.”

Ever insightful, Seteth’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t protest. Byleth turned and immediately headed for the cathedral before he could press her any further. She didn’t particularly feel like talking about children, especially since many of the stories her friends were telling back in the dining hall were about their own children.

Byleth had only been in the cathedral for maybe ten minutes before she heard heavy footsteps enter. She kept her head down as if she was praying and hoped to blend in amongst the few monks that were in the cathedral this late at night. Her attempts were in vain as a warm presence sat next to her on the bench. She tilted her head slightly and saw Dimitri watching her patiently.

Wordlessly, she slid closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. His hands cradled hers in her lap and he kissed her temple lightly. He waited for her to speak and didn’t press her to open up. The silent communication was a wonderful reminder of the good times they had spent together in the 12 years they had known each other and the nearly 7 years they had been a pair.

“I recognized Seteth’s pain before he had to explain anything,” Dimitri said cautiously.

Byleth let her eyes close and nodded slowly. “I wish I could go with you when you leave.”

“You’ll be in the capital soon,” he assured her, but she knew he understood her sadness.

She stirred against him and shifted so that she could look at his face. One of her hands slipped free from his grip and touched his jaw gently. “What could we have been like with no responsibilities or duties to separate us?” she asked quietly.

Dimitri smiled at the thought. “A pair of inseparable fools in love,” he suggested lightly.

Byleth felt herself smile. “I would have loved that,” she admitted. “But, we wouldn’t have been us without the responsibilities, would we?”

Dimitri turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand. “The nation wouldn’t be where it is today either, without you in the church and myself on the throne.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing that it went differently,” Byleth said quietly. She glided her hand up to brush lightly against the strap of Dimitri’s eyepatch. He once might have flinched against the touch, but he just leaned into it.

“Have you been happy?”

She stilled in her gentle exploration and levelled him with a firm look. “Of course I have. Dimitri, I love you,” she assured. “I have been so, so happy with you.”

He nodded and another smile curled up his lips. “Let’s walk,” he suggested.

They strode, hand in hand, out the west side of the cathedral into the open air. There were a few monks in dark robes speaking quietly around as they strolled, but they gave the royal pair a wide enough berth that it felt private.

“It’s hard to listen to everyone talk about their kids,” Byleth confessed.

“Mercedes tried to steer the conversation away,” Dimitri pointed out.

Byleth nodded. “She and Felix were trying, but it’s hard. They’re all parents and Ashe and Petra are newly married. Besides, Mercedes and Dedue are the only ones who know about everything,” she reminded.

“We are so lucky to have them,” Dimitri agreed.

“Mercedes has been so wonderful that I had hoped Rhea was wrong.” She laughed bitterly. “I would have given anything for Rhea to be wrong.”

“Beloved,” Dimitri said slowly, his gaze heavy as he pulled them to a stop.

Byleth’s next phrase caught in her throat as a monk in dark grey robes walked by them. A sense of wrong washed over her so quickly that she went completely tense. She didn’t recognize the robes, she realized faintly. All of the monks in the cathedral were wearing dark robes that she didn’t recognize.

She pulled out of Dimitri’s grip and summoned a burst of white magic just in time to catch an incoming dark magic attack and deflect it to the side. The magic scorched against the stone and Byleth scowled fiercely. Dimitri’s hand dropped to the sword at his waist and he drew it without further prompting.

One of the stained glass windows above them exploded in a burst of coloured glass and Byleth flinched at the rain of shards around them. Dimitri pulled her along by the arm as they jogged south along the balcony towards the main monastery. Their attackers were sticking to the shadows of the monastery and Byleth was completely tense, holding a condensed Nosferatu in an open palm as she waited for a sign of movement.

Another window shattered and Byleth didn’t see the incoming burst of flame until Dimitri practically dragged her out of its path. Her Nosferatu dissipated in her palm. The heat of the flames licked against the stone and her dress, but she hurled a bolt of lightning in the direction it had come from. Behind her, Dimitri cursed as he shook out his non-sword arm. The edge of the flames had caught him.

They fell into step easily, pressing their backs together as they circled, staring into the night’s gloom to try and find their attackers. A rolling fog had settled around them, further obscuring their opponents and Byleth knew it was a product of dark magic, just as it had been all those years ago when they had faced Lonato’s rebellion.

Dimitri cried out suddenly behind her and Byleth spun, blasting more lightning. There was a wail of pain as she hit her target, but Dimitri had buckled to a knee beside her, his arm crossed over a nasty burn from a dark magic attack. Before Byleth could send another attack out, she felt her limbs seize in incredible pain. The crawling pain seared her limbs in a manner that was horribly familiar. She had felt a weakened version of this pain when sparring with Lysithea years ago, but she had never been on the receiving end of this spell at its full strength.

Byleth stumbled away from Dimitri as she tried to shake away the crawling pain as it sapped her strength. Dimitri cried out roughly as he was blasted with another spell and Byleth screamed. She threw her arms out and the dark magic gripping her was instantly dispelled as she released a wave of pure white magic. Dimitri was crumpled against the stone limp and Byleth’s white magic instantly dispelled the fog rolling around them.

She stumbled with a sudden loss of energy and fell to her knees. Her whole body was burning and she felt so intensely nauseous that she collapsed sideways, barely managing to save her head from cracking against the stone. Paralyzed by the gripping pain, she could only watch as a figure crept from the fog towards Dimitri’s body. She tried to cry out to him, but a sharp pain erupted in her stomach and she rolled onto her back as her breath was torn from her chest.

A hooded figure stood above her, a curved sword plunged into her side. She couldn’t see any features beyond the hood, but she did recognize the Sreng lettering on the blade before it withdrew and she was left to lie limply on the stone. Her head lolled to the side as she watched the figure who had stabbed her join another person looming over Dimitri’s prone form.

The curved blade lifted in the air, but before it could come down, the figure snarled in pain, withdrawing from the king. Byleth spotted an arrow in the attacker’s arm and she recognized its fletching: it was one of Ashe’s. There were shouts nearby and a few more arrows before the two figures looked between Dimitri and Byleth on the ground before they retreated into the fog.

“Dimitri,” she whimpered. She tried to claw her way along the ground towards him, but the pain from her injury and her drained energy meant she had barely moved at all by the time Ashe emerged from the fog, his expression set into a firm line.

Ingrid was at his side, wielding Lúin as she was on the alert. Ingrid spotted Dimitri and Byleth and gasped in horror. “Mercedes! Annette!” She collapsed at Dimitri’s side to check his vital signs and Ashe ran to Byleth, kneeling over her with terror written across his face.

Byleth heard more footsteps approaching and her eyes drifted closed as the pain continued to wrack her body. Help was coming.

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Park Picnics with a Prince Pt 1

I’m honestly exhausted. I’ll go to bed in a minute but I wanted to make sure I wrote everything down first so I’d remember it forever.

I can’t afford to lose these memories so for now I’ll use tumblr as my heart shaped box to keep them safe. Lock and key.

Admittedly it didn’t start that great. As you know if you’ve been actually reading what I’ve been writing, I woke up late. So I threw on some make up to hide the dark circles, ran a brush through... well at least most of my hair before tying it up and skated as fast as I could.

Now I know these streets like the back of my hand so I thought I’d try to type out some of my feelings to try and take the edge off, y’know? Now that I decided this was kinda like a public access diary I may as well use it.

Well ran straight into a stop sign. Ah the irony... or... is that irony? I always get that confused. Being forced to slow down by a stop sign...?? Irony or just inconvenient? IDK. (Like I know the technical definition of Irony so I don’t think that was technically ironic but that damn song ruined it for everyone and now I get confused okay???)

ANYWAY (Fuck one day I’ll right out what happened WITHOUT going on 400 tangents... wait fuck this is another tangent isn’t it? FUCK!!) A.N.Y.W.A.Y.

I FINALLY get there. Fortunately the skate park is pretty close to where I live. (It’s the only reason I go there because it’s own by the Jins. Ugh. Fortunately they don’t go there very often but when they do it’s always trouble. But the next closes skate park is at least another 10 miles away so uuuuuugh.) (.... more tangents. Jeezubs creeps. ) I finally get there and I see Lan Zhan standing there so still and patient

holding a basket of what had to be food that was...

It was so full it didn’t even close!!! And he was holding it all casual like it didn’t way a million pounds. It must have. How long had he been waiting.

So I called out to him the moment I saw him because I was just excited okay?

Except, like I said earlier, I was skating as fast as I could! So you can guess what happened, can’t you?

Skateboard keeps going but I face plant RIGHT into Lan Zhan’s chest. (I could feel his damn PECS through that shirt though. Like HOT DAMN. He must be RIPPED . Wouldn’t mind being able to find out for sure one day ;) No wonder he didn’t have any trouble holding that basket. ((Speaking of he managed to put it down before CATCHING me flawlessly because as I’ve stated before and will say again, Lan Zhan is perfect.))).

And so I’m freaking out a bit and he holds me patiently until I finally figure out that I should remove my nose from his damn pectoral cleavage. Fortunately I didn’t get any make up on him since he usually wears such light colored clothes.

(I then freaked out because my skateboard was GETTING AWAY so I chased it for a second then came back. Said sorry and laughed it off.)

Lan Zhan... I don’t know if it’s just how he looks but sometimes when he looks at me... it’s just.. this tender look in his eyes. I can’t look away.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that it’s a look just for me. Definitely wishful thinking. A nice dream though.

Well anyway. I tried to be a decent human and help him carry that basket since he was holding it so long and FUCK it was heavy.

I mean I could manage, but I decided it was a nice opportunity to try to be cute. So I put it on my skateboard and pushed it with my foot. haha.

Okay maybe not the smartest idea but it got us to the picnic area, didn’t it?

And Lan Zhan indulged me as he always does. And he carried it the last bit even though I said I could do it. He’s always so NICE.

So I helped spread out the blanket and stuff instead. (Somehow he managed to fit.. just. omg so much food AND a blanket to sit on in that basket. I mean the basket wasn’t SMALL or anything but like this man’s organizational skills must be like Tetris MASTER level. There’s no way I could have crammed so much in there!!!

So we finally get situated and settled and this SMORGASBORD of food. Like he must have stayed up all NIGHT cooking it all! And it was all so amazing to LOOK at. Like I don’t think I’m a bad cook (No matter what Jiang Cheng says) but I can’t ever make anything that LOOKS so good. I mean I guess it makes sense. The man runs the most adorable cafe in the world so ofc he knows about presentation.

But anyway I was thinking about how much time this must have taken and the effort and just ahhh. So I finally take a proper look at him. He’s always so stoic and dependable that it’s hard to tell when he’s overexerted himself. But the signs were there. He must have been exhausted. His posture said he was tired and so did those bags under his eyes. And he still stood there to wait for me all that time even though I was so damn late.

I need to make it up to him.

So I, being the gremlin I am, just reach out to him and stroke his cheek a little. Like I could smooth away those signs of exhaustion that dared mar his beautiful face. (He’s still beautiful though. Take your breath away beautiful. Stop and stare beautiful. How is he not a world famous model? I bet he could pull it off if he wanted to. Be on the cover of every magazine in the world. Make all the girls swoon.)

But yeah anyway. I just like.. pet his cheek with my little gremlin hand (Omg his skin is so DAMN SMOOTH? WHAT PRODUCT DO YOU USE LAN ZHAN??? I MUST KNOW!!) and just say something like “Are you okay? Have you been sleeping okay? You need to remember to take care of yourself” or something like that (Like I have any right to talk. )

And then I realize what I was doing lasd;flakdsf;jl like who does that? Like just start cupping his cheek and fussing over him??? (I couldn’t help it. ) But before I could pull my hand away, HE LEANED INTO IT! he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand like he was a little bunny.

It took everything in me to keep myself from jumping him right there.

But he leaned into me and just nodded a little with that little multi-purpose “mn” he always does. Then looks at me again and says “You too’

Well I think he said something more eloquent and teasing but in essence it was “you too.” I was too distracted by how close we were.

I need to pay more attention. Every word he says to me is precious.

So we laugh a little (or I do at least but he laughed with his eyes. ) and settle in properly again to start eating.

And........

Part 2 comin up.

(Sorry for all the long ass posts. But I got a lot to say)

#long post #(Modern AU!)

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docholligay · 5 years ago

Note

“Stop telling me you’re okay” for Haruka & Michiru?

1600 words! Takes place right after this fic, AU of Mystery and Shadow, I hope you enjoy!

People did not describe Michiru Kaioh as tough. One would assume this strange, given her ability to simply put her personal feelings to one side, to dispel any emotion that might alight on her, and her historical ability to accept that life was simply what it was, and there was precious little that could be done about it.

But the fact of the matter was, Haruka thought, people didn’t think of Michiru as tough because she was too beautiful. It was like calling a diamond tough. It was the hardest substance in the world, but nobody noticed that, they only saw the way it shined in the light. No one noticed how strong Michiru was, because no one could look past her brilliance.

Haruka knew. Haruka knew how tough she’d been, even though she never got credit for it.

Sometimes Haruka Tenoh felt very guilty indeed. They had a happy and relatively calm life, three years out from their tragedy, and they loved their daughter, and eagerly hoped for another. Haruka cooked and was beginning to write little pieces for different car websites, and Michiru seemed to love her job with the art museum.

The gala last night, a joint effort between her and the symphony, should have been a masterpiece for her. Everyone had said how great it was.

Even with all these good things, Haruka felt guilty. Michiru had lost plenty when they’d been hurt in the final battle, too, but she had spent all her time thinking of Haruka, and Haruka had also, spent all her time thinking of herself. She’d been hard to live with, and sometimes the shame of the way she acting make the back of her neck grow hot, and her chest get tight. Michiru’d forgiven her--it wasn’t even sure if she’d ever really been mad--but Haruka still thought about all the opportunities Michiru never got to be upset.

Haruka sat on the living room floor, thinking all these things as she fixed up the caster on her chair.

She was crying, last night. Michiru missed a lot things, too, and Haruka’s chest was heavy with the weight of having neglected her.

The soft and graceful footfall came up behind her, and there was a glass of lemonade offered at the side table.

“I rather did tell you, Haruka.” She set down the tray that had contained both glasses and took a sip of her own.

Haruka spun the caster easily. “Wasn’t hard to fix,” She grinned, “Just a pain in the ass last night.”

Michiru gave a little smile. “Even so, you would do well to consider other options before tossing yourself down a flight of stairs.”

Haruka fiddled with the small wrench her hands. Even years of therapy couldn’t always make her good at saying what she wanted to say. Things came out wrong, and she didn’t want things to come out wrong with Michiru. Michiru needed her, too.

“You were upset.” It wasn’t much, only three words, but they hung in the air pendulously.

Michiru did not immediately rise to her own defense, simply sat for a moment on the couch as Haruka looked at her. She knew Michiru had hoped she’d just forget everything that happened last night. But Haruka was resolute. She was going to try to help Michiru, in all the ways that Michiru had helped her.

Michiru finally gave a sigh. “Haruka, it is no great matter, it was only the fleeting quality of a--”

“No,” Haruka shook her head, “Stop telling me you’re okay.”

“I’m not entirely certain what you mean.” She adjusted herself on the couch, “In as much as I’m aware, I don’t have a single--”

“I know,” Haruka scooted herself over to the couch and pulled herself up next to Michiru, “You’re not falling apart, because you don’t, and you don’t because no one ever gives you room to, but I want to give you room to. I want you to know you don’t have to be...you don’t have to pretend to be a diamond. It’s okay if things leave marks.” She touched her chest as she said it, and felt a little embarrassed for its sentimentality.

But if Michiru could always be tough, if she could have been so strong for Haruka, Haruka could be strong enough to be soft with her.

Michiru sighed, and did not look at Haruka, simply stared off into the distance for a moment. Haruka knew she was thinking. MIchiru wasn’t like her, didn’t just say whatever came to her mind. Everything Michiru did was considered and thoughtful. Especially when she didn’t want to talk about something, which Haruka was pretty sure this was.

Her voice was so quiet, when she finally did speak. “It is, in my experience, an easier thing to simply put things into boxes, rather than decide what one must do with them. In the same way my violin still rests in the attic. Like so many things, it is of no use to me, and I refuse to let it go.”

Haruka put her arm around Michiru. She talked in poems and riddles, and even after so many years with her, Haruka sometimes still had to puzzle them out. But she loved Michiru. She loved her riddles and poems and all the things that made her Michiru Kaioh, and so she would happily puzzle every day for the rest of her life.

She opened her mouth, trying to meet MIchiru’s turn of phrase. “Yeah but attics get full. So, you gotta decide what to junk. Or what to keep.” She sighed. She was no good at this. “Michi, there’s no reason you can’t go to therapy. You should feel sad about not being able to play. Let yourself feel sad about that, so you can, you know, put it away. Then you can remember all the things you’re good at.”

Michiru shook her head. “Haruka--”

“I know you had a really bad experience when your parents made you go. That was a long time ago, and,” She shrugged, “I don’t think you’re crazy so it’ll be even better.”

Michiru closed her eyes.

“Michi,” Haruka was full of dogged determination, now that she’d had the courage to say it, “you can find whoever you like, or whatever, but it’s not just at the party last night. You’re sad whenever we go to the art museum, we don’t go to the symphony anymore, you’re just...staying away from everything you like. Even I’m at the gym now.”

It was an inelegant speech. It hadn’t been the one Haruka had been meaning to give. She wished she was the writerly type, the one that could say how much she missed the way Michiru described art movement as they strolled through the halls, they way she would carefully identify things Haruka liked, and point her to more. How she’d adored the sparkle in Michiru’s eyes as she teased after the girl in some opera, her half-smile as she compared composers, and the things they did. They were things she loved, even if she’d never meant to, and they brought her such light.

She would tell Michiru, if she was better at saying things, that she loved seeing how happy Michiru was with M.A., and how she loved the way she talked to her daughter, and looked at her. But that Michiru had loved other things, too, and that she could teach M.A. about them.

What she really wanted to tell her is that she could still paint, even if it were different. She’d learned how to write with her left hand, and Haruka saw no reason why she couldn’t switch the paintbrush, too, but she also knew enough to know that wasn’t on the table today.

When Michiru opened her eyes, there we tears in them. “I rather don’t see the point. What’s gone is gone, and there is little value in keening over it.”

“I want you to talk to me,” Haruka had not know how sad she felt, until she heard her own voice, “I want you to let me be with you in this stuff.”

Michiru rested her head on Haruka’s shoulder, and allowed a tear, shining as a diamond but not so hard, anymore, to plop gracelessly down her face. They sat there, together, for a moment, simply taking in the exquisite pain of growing, of learning not only to move on but to mourn. Michiru gave a sniffle, and nodded.

“All right, then. I will attempt, for I love you so, to be more, open, I suppose, over the matter.”

“We can do it together, Michi,” She kissed her on the top of the head, “I was way worse than you are, and look at me now. I’ve, you know, adapted, and I’m happy again.”

“Yes, truly, you have integrated all considerations of your condition into your life,” she gave a giggle, “You’ve left your wheelchair in the middle of the room.”

Haruka gave a playful scowl. “Yeah, I just now thought of that.”

Michiru rubbed Haruka’s chest aimlessly. “I suppose you’re trapped here with me for time and eternity.”

Haruka chuckled. “I can probably deal. Till I get hungry.”

Michiru drew her arms around Haruka. “Sometimes,” she started slowly. If she could be hard, and a diamond, then this could not break her, “I still dream of playing, and I can feel the strings on the tips of my fingers…”

It was slow, reading this diary of pains kept in Michiru’s heart, locked away like a terrible contagion. But Haruka had, at the very least, broken the lock.

#quantum-lesbian

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Text

Worshipping Your Body And Mind:

Henry Pearl+Poet! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovlies!

So... I have a slight problem writing fanfic lately, both because I am uninispired... and both because I have an hard time writing and finding time to do it!

BUT I HAVE IDEAS... and I am working on some asks, I am very sorry that it is taking quite a bit... but... life is shit!

And this was written, meanwhile I was blocked so, I hope you’ll like it an it won’t suck (also... just wanted to say that i suck at writing erotic poems so it sucks... I am sorry).

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex and Sexual Theme, Past Traumas, Insecurity and Awful Erotic Poems.

You had started writing erotic poems when you were nothing but a teen.

At first you had found them funny, in a way that made you broke away from the taboo that sex was in your small community but moving forward a few years you had relied on them to comfort yourself about the lack of sexual activity in your life.

All your friends had boyfriends, and you didn’t.

But you had your poems and, according to the gruesome description of your friends’ first times, they were much better than any man.

Except Henry.

You had met Henry Pearl once you had been given a teaching job at Battlecreek and from the start you had just been attracted by the other, like opposite magnets, in a shy courting that had brought you on your knees for the sweet man.

You still remembered that time you had gone skinny dipping and you had shared your first sweet kiss, and you had witnessed his scars and hadn’t run away from him.

“Why would I?” you had asked, softly laying some kisses onto his chest and neck where the marked tissues stood out “They are just scars, just a bit of different skin and most importantly: it isn’t what define you Henry Pearl”.

You had slowly moved your hand from his neck to where his heartbeat could be found, extremely rushed due to your closeness and the insecurity he felt, transforming in anxiety, with each second you spoke.

He had kind of expected you to run away, but you hadn’t.

You never would, you promised yourself when you saw that desperate look in his eyes.

“… this…” you had leaned down to kiss his heart, right where the muscle stood out, pumping blood, almost as in an attempt to get close to you “… is what defines you, above anything else, and nothing else matters.

Your relationship with Henry was shy and attentive to each other’s needs, but this didn’t mean that it was less firey than anybody’s.

And when you had finally experienced sex, through a human body and not a book, it had been definitely less gruesome than your friend had told you, but also extremely intense, a million of thoughts and emotions going through your body and your mind.

Henry asked, as a true gentleman, instructions for anything, waiting for your sign to even start undressing you, no matter the fact that you were obviously aching from him, the evidence on your panties.

But you hadn’t minded the slowness, it had helped you feeling everything and not losing a bit of that magical experience.

From then on, your erotic poems had become even more real, with attentive description of what happened with Henry, and that is why they were extremely private to you.

But that day you had left behind your little diary, since you had been running late for school, quickly smacking Henry’s lips with a small kiss, moving away to collect, as you rushed outside, your bag and your things.

And your diary, where all your poems were written was now on the ground of Henry’s room.

He hadn’t meant to look inside it, but he had thought it might have been something important since it seemed pretty used so he had given it a little look inside, and at first he had just found dates, but as he moved to quickly look through the pages he had found… definitely more than he had bargained for.

The first poems were painful awkward, with you searching your style and muse, but Henry had been too absorbed in your writing to care, discovering soon a precious series of poems that warmed Henry’s heart…

… and his cheeks.

Although he was a connoisseur of poems, he never approached the sexual type, but he felt suddenly curious after reading yours.

And then he got to a rather special sector of your diary: it was dedicated to him.

“To Henry, who knew all my secrets before I even knew them myself”.

He had blushed further, knowing that if the reading of the previous poems was an invasion of your fantasy he could justify, this wasn’t…

… but if it involved also him, why couldn’t he give it a look?

Wasn’t he a bit entitled to also read this?

But it didn’t matter anymore, as his hands, moved to turn the pages, and discover the first poem, as if they had their own mind

He immediately recognized the date as your first meeting: you had come to ask for some help with your car, having had quite some troubles on your way there, and he hadn’t been able to say much more than a few words to you, completely enchanted by your gentleness and the way your eyes shone, even at night.

He had called them “his own precious suns” making you giggle and kiss him, not much later when you two had started your relationship.

And the poem said:

“Oh, handsome stranger,

You looked at me as if I was the most divine of things

What you didn’t know was that to me

It was love at first sight.

Your pretty smile and your delicate lips,

I already wanted kiss.

And your soft button nose.

You looked like a true dream,

The kind that leaves me to wake up with my thighs drenched,

And my body and mind to desire more”.

He flushed, surprised that you had felt attracted to him like that from the start.

He moved further, skimming through the poems till he reached another important date, the first time you had seen him naked.

“I caught him as Actaeon caught Diana,

Washing herself in the little mirror of moonlight she reigns.

He never looked more divinely,

And as the damned hunter,

I found myself caught by him and his body,

Wanting to have him against him,

After I undressed him slowly,

And feel him against me, with nothing between us.

I want to feel you my sweet Henry,

With nothing between us”.

He continued skimming through the pages and found himself growing more and more interested in your writing but also flattered of your description of him, since they felt so true, and all of them were extremely flattering.

“Tonight, we made love,

He said as he exited me,

I felt empty,

Because we didn’t make love

We joined our souls together

And I don’t think I would ever be

Ready to let him go”.

He felt the same and to see it written on paper it made him feel strangely… understood and his self-esteem grow to extreme levels, feeling confident with anything that you so sweetly and so warmly said about him, the emotion coating each word.

He was so into reading the poems that he didn’t see the passing of time, and alongside that… that you had finally come back, catching him with your diary in your hands.

You were immediately taken aback but when your mind linked the dots, a sudden blush spread all through your face, completely matching Henry’s one, who rushed to close the diary, to try to make himself less guilty.

“Is that my diary?” you asked, meanwhile you tried to focus on something and feel anything other than embarrassment.

Henry just nodded, and you moved closer, mostly to grab back your diary, with maybe more force than you should have, immediately gaining a small look of hurt from him.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean… I mean… I didn’t want to…” he tried to breath in all those rushed words, trying to speak without making himself look like a fool, meanwhile your eyes softened, feeling like you couldn’t get mad at your boyfriend, although you were still ashamed of what he had read “… I thought it might have been something important, and I wanted to check if I needed to bring it to you, or not”.

“That was rather nice of you, Henry” you comforted him, gently moving closer, and sitting beside him, although you kept your distance, avoiding physical contact, something which didn’t go unnoticed to him

“… I didn’t mean to read it all… but…” he knew that there were no excuses for that invasion of privacy “... I am sorry”.

“Hey, I am actually the one who is sorry that you had to go through that…” you mumbled staring at your hands “… those pomes, they are so awkward… and you must think that I am an idiot … and a pervert”.

He suddenly realized that you weren’t angry at him for snooping, but at you… because you were ashamed of what he had found… thinking it to b not enough and weird.

“No no!” he rushed to you, getting on his knees in front of you, suddenly enough that surprise shone again in your eyes and he had the entirety of your attention, meanwhile you quickly rushed closer to him, as if he was readying himself to whisper some kind mystical knowledge “… I wasn’t… I didn’t think that you are either of those things, your poems… they actually made me feel powerful and gorgeous, as you said”.

You were extremely taken aback by his affirmation and he gently closed his hand around your diary, moving yourself to do the same, meanwhile you looked at him as if he was making you cry.

“… I am sorry for snooping, I was curious and should have asked for your permission, but…” his voice lost an octave, becoming deeper and less audible “… but if you ever want to share some of them with me, it would be my greatest honor, to know that I am worshipped by such beautiful words”.

#henry pearl #henry pearl reader #henry pearl x reader #henry pearl imagine #henry pearl fluff #henry pearl smut #henry pearl fic #henry pearl fanfiction #henry pearl fan fiction #henry pearl oneshot #henry pearl one shot #battlecreek 2017 #battle creek 2017 imagine #battlecreek imagine #bill skasgard #bill skasgard fic

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blarhiv · 6 years ago

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Hi blar, do you know some new good animes ? I stopped watching them cuz I didn't find good ones especially these new ones are just focused in ecchi somehow they make me cringe, now I'm just reading manga (one piece, attack on titan, Detective conan, akatsuki no yona...)

Anooooonniieeeeee!! Hi!! Finally someone asked about anime!! Omg I'm litereally crying! You even watch One Piece! тттт THIS ANIME IS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ONE OF THE BEST IN THE WORLD AND YOU KNOW WHY 😭😭😭😭

You ask about new anime.. but hmm... Can I just write my favorite? Maybe you didn't watch something... Hope you will like it!!!( writing order doesn't depend on rating).

1) Gintama.

This is unique thing.Jokes,laugh, tears,happiness,sadness,SOUL. Must watch.

2)Acca 13-ku Kansatsu-ka

Unique and original anime of its kind. Amazing atmosphere and music. An excellent combination of style, coziness, unusual characters and political intrigue.

3)Psycho-Pass

"Na, Kogami, kimi wa kono ato boku no kawari ga mitskerareru no ka?" Ahhh... 1st season is something else.Good cyberpunk universe.

4)Gundam:Tekketsu no Orphans

A lot of tears and struggles, your heart will broke into million pieces. But it's worth it. ( I still can't with story of Shino and Yamagi)

5)Yuuri On Ice!

I think you watched it. But aaaaahhhh!!!! I couldn't help but mention my lovely Ice cuties aaaaaaa ( ok. im ok)

6)Sangatsu no Lion

A lot of philosophy. If you like to watch about self-digging and about life, then it's for you.

7)Boku no Hero Academia

Amazing shonen!! Must watch!

8)Haikyuu

One of the favorite sport anime. In good traditions of genre. But there are really a lot of exciting moments.

9)Yakusoku no Neverland.

New anime! Strongly recommend this anime! Wonderful plot,characters,universe,idea. Can't wait 2nd season!

10)Mob Psycho 100

Sometimes it may seem boring, but 2nd season hit me so hard. Very touching. Especially 8 episode!! ттттт

11)Bungou Stray Dogs.

Weeell, interesting characters,plot,atmosphere, PERFECT JAZZ MUSIC,a little philosophy,beauticul picture... You will enjoy this story!

12)Hellsing OVA

TV series is classic, but original plot in OVAs is everythyng.Ohhh and last scene!!! Emotions,setting, entourage, music!!!

14)Clannad

15) Angel beats

With regards to these two anime, I think comments are superfluous here.

16)Kino no tabi(2017)

Incredible atmosphere of travels, really cool main heroine, nice picture and music. Every country that our heroine visiting maintains its own foundations, but if look a little deeper... it all applies to our life. Every city reflects humans sides in society. We are shown a different temperament of people, actions and their consequences, the important role I suppose was played by the names at the end of each city or episode, it can be said as a highlight on the cake that “sums up” this part.

This anime is deeper that you might think.

17) Doukyusei

True art.

18) Natsume Yuujinchou

Warm, touching, soulful story with a unique atmosphere. I always want to cry while watching this anime. And the soundtracks are something magical that always turns my soul inside out.

I will not say a lot..juts think that everyone must watch it.

19) Genroku Rakigo Shinjuu

Oh... difficult to describe all feelings that caused this anime.

It’s like you read old Japanese novel. Tragic of of human in Showa era... Art of Japanese and life path that closely intertwined. Instead of saying a lot of words it’s better to watch by yourself. Definitely this anime has place in the list of masterpieces.

20) Banana Fish

Recent anime filmed by old school manga.

It’s so sad story :( Main characters reminded me of jikook because of their strong bond. Souls bond. It’s very strong and unshakable. Understanding without words,one soul for both.

Yes,it’s so tragic story.

21) Ikoku Meiro no Croisee

I can’t express all of my love for this anime. This is a little piece of warmth, fragility, innocence, tenderness, kindness, sadness, true love. This anime touches your soul: in some moments, your soul just spreads out from the warmth that is born in your soul, and in some moments your soul simply breaks into a thousand fragments.

Please,watch this anime if you didn’t watch it.

( so sad that there is no continuation 😭)

22) Zankyou no Terror

23) Boku dake ga inai Machi

Not a masterpiece, but I think it’s good enough.

24) Dantalian no Shoka

Magical anime!! Love it so much!! ( why such anime don’t get continuation 😭)

25) Grisaia no Kajitsu (and all connected series in this universe).

Yes, maybe it was filmed based on ero game.. and fist episodes weren’t such interesting ( at least for me)... but then... when started last arc of first season... I was speechless. In fact,it’s hard in emotional regard anime :(

26) Onihei

This is one of my favorite anime.

Edo era.Samurai era. Different stories in every episode,like notes from diary of one person from this era, but every episode is full of real emotions,its own morality. Daily life, detective component, social drama, the concept of honor and duty, surrender, justice and simple human kindness. We are all beautiful beings born out of a dream. In this cycle of life. Onihei is truly masterpiece.

27)No.6

You will not remain indifferent watching this sad and sooo touching story 😭

28) Kekkai Sensen

Stylish anime. Interesting to watch.

29) Toradora

Ohh this anime is special for me. I watched it a lot of times... Maybe you will not find here something burning, but Toradora has adorable sides....

30) Kami sama no inai Nichiyoubi

31) Sakurako san no Ashimoto ni Shitai ga Umatteiru

32) Nagi no Asukara

33) Nurarihyon no Mago

Nice anime in shonen genre^^

34) Higashi no Eden

Honestly, I almost don’t remember anything!! Haha because watched REALLY a long long time ago. But I remember that this anime is nice :D

35) Tales of Zestiria

It’s worth to watch ... even only because of absolutely precious relationship of Mikleo and Sorey 🥺🥺🥺 these two... these two 😭😭😭

36) Violet Evergarden

Beautiful and very painful story, high class animation and picture, pleasant music. Long way of becoming a human.

37)Inuyaahiki

38)Nabari no Ou

🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

39) Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi

Omggggg this is very important series for me hihi. From this story started my... fujoshi way 😂😂

..... I can continue this list indefinitely......

Well, I will not write about classic that I think you guys watched( Kuroshitsuji, Guren Lagann,Reborn, Bleach, Fullmetal Alchemist etc etc etc)... and harems and other anime.... I also will not write ahahahahaha

In this season I watch:

-Given

-Bem

-Vinland saga

-One piece of course

- Danmachi ( Yup, I adore all anime ahahah isekai’s and harems TOO 😂😂😂)

I will be glad to discuss about anime again!! And continue this list too 😁😁😁😁😁❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #anime #recommendation

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lovebunnie · 5 years ago

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fr the poem questions: all of them >: )c

jared... only for you...

the tyger – are you a taker of calculated risks or do you enjoy playing with fire? would you rather ask for permission or forgiveness?

i am a major rule follower, i am not at all adventurous and i like to stay in my comfort zone. my life is a mix of staying true to my comfort zone and doing what I feel is right, first instinct.

i carry your heart with me – do you believe in fate? what’s your secret to living a good life?

i tend to not believe in fate, it tends to make people not take responsibility for their actions and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth; predestination takes away humility from us. and i wouldnt say that im currently living a good life, its getting there but more often then not i would not describe my days as ‘happy’, more so just another day. but to make a day not outwardly bad, i firmly believe in having a really good breakfast in the morning and taking a shower at night. both of those really make my days better.

i wandered lonely as a cloud – what does nature mean to you? where do you feel most at peace?

nature for me is what comes to us instinctively and what we turn to for comfort in trying times. i feel the most at peace either at summer camp or in my bedroom with my cat :3

blackberrying – what were your early years like? do you miss being a child?

my early years were very happy, i was a very happy and funloving child. it was a time where i wasnt told about any of my family drama so i lived in blissful ignorance. i definitely miss being a child, all the way up to about 7th grade. its just been downhill from 8th grade and on.

ode to a nightingale – how do you feel about your own mortality? do you believe in life after death?

my mortality is something of a burden i carry with me everyday, a reminder that every minute is precious and this is the only life i get, i have one shot to not fuck it up. i dont believe in the afterlife, the concept of death is something that if i think too hard about then itll fuck me up.

hope is the thing with feathers – what gives you hope? what would you tell your 10-year-old self?

hope comes from those news stories about good news, like charity donation goals being hit and remembered anniversaries and flower bouquets in public, there is good in the world and sometimes its hard to find but its always there. to my 10 year old self, i would tell her to not hold too tightly to those around you, and that life constantly changes so dont get too attached or comfortable because itll prevent you from growing in the future.

the road not taken – do you find it hard to make decisions? what regrets do you have?

its really hard to make decisions because i always assume that my ideas are wrong or bad so if someone else takes the lead, i cant be blamed. as far as regrets, i wish that in my past, i just put myself out there more. i couldve spent highschool actively seeking for possibilities instead of sulking and wishing they came to me. they dont ever, you have to find them.

still i rise – what's your relationship with yourself like? what are your best qualities?

i have a bad relationship to myself; if i admire one trait about myself, the other traits must be less than. for example, if i think i look nice one day, then i remember abt my grades or my writing and how much i hate both of those. i can never be fully at peace, it will never be enough to sate my psyche. my ‘best’ qualities depend on the day, right now i think i have nice eyelashes.

howl – can you express yourself freely? do you feel smothered by societal norms?

i struggle everyday to be my genuine self. its not so much societal norms but my own mind; i want to look nice but i dont want to attract too much attention. i want to be remembered but not for how good my ass looks or whatever. my biggest fear is that people see me as something desirable but only sexually so i want to dress how i feel but i cant because im terrified of the gaze of men on my campus.

the raven – are you in touch with your feelings? how would you describe the relationship between emotions & rationality?

im extremely in touch with my feelings. i can acknowledge when i am angry or sad or happy, even if i dont know why. i allow myself to feel my feelings and then let them pass, i hate bottling those things up. between emotions and rationality, i use my emotions 9 times out of 10. i ask myself, ‘what do i want?’ and the first thing i come up with, i know is what i truly want to do.

sonnet 116 – how do you define love? what qualities do you look for in a significant other?

i think love is everything; its the warmth of hanging out with familiar people, its when people remember facts about you, its a meaningful hug and its ‘this reminded me of you’. its different for everyone but i feel love in everything i do. in a significant other, the biggest thing is being able to make me laugh, if youre funny than im sold.

to autumn – what's your favorite season and why? what cherished memories do you associate with that season?

my favorite season is winter because it has lots of holiday warmth, good food, pleasant childhood memories, and comfortable clothing. also i love snow. i have very vivid memories of a blizzard in maryland when i was 11(?) years old, my neighbor tied a sled to the back of his ATV and dragged us around the cul de sac, it was so much fun!!

the waste land – do you like big cities? if you could choose any place on earth, where would you settle down?

i love big cities, they evoke so many feelings of love and the atmosphere being surrounded by people makes me so happy! if i could live anywhere, i think it would be san francisco, i love the city and the weather and the public transportation!!

o captain! my captain! – what are your aspirations in life? what motivates you?

in life, i want to give a tedtalk. i would also love to publish a book but i dont like what i write so if i ever did, id end up hating the book anyway in a year or so. i want to teach people the joy of public speaking and i want to give kids the joys i had given to me by my teacher when i was their age. my motivation comes from, this has to be done and if no one else will do it, it might as well be me. i have the passion and everything else will follow after that.

she walks in beauty – what's your aesthetic? how would you describe the relationship between inner goodness & outer beauty?

id describe my aesthetic as lovecore, i love the color pink and red and hearts and flowers and teddy bears and dresses and sparkles and valentines day and i love everything stereotypically ‘cute’. and i feel there is no outer beauty without inner goodness, if someone has bad intentions or a rotten core, their outward appearance will reflect.

one art – how do you deal with loss? do you write diary entries, poetry or prose?

thankfully i have not had to go through tremendous loss in my life but when i feel an emotional loss or general low point, i tend to move towards art, aimless doodling to take my mind off of situations. it centers me.

work, sometimes – how does your favorite weather make you feel? what is happiness to you?

my favorite weather makes me feel SO happy, all smiley and giddy and like things are going to be okay, just for one day, i will make this a good one. happiness to me is comfort and joy, its something that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and its art that you look at and feel. happiness isnt a huge moment, its little moments scattered throughout the days.

acquainted with the night – do you think there's such thing as the right time? what’s your outlook on the world?

no, i dont like to set things off for the thought of there being a right and wrong time. time isnt real and we only have so long on earth so there is no time but the present. go get that tattoo, ask them out, eat that snack. my outlook on the world is that there is a lot of bad shit but there is also a lot of good shit you will never see but it important nonetheless. you cant change the world in a day so you might as well take it one day at a time, working everyday to make it as good as possible.

if – do you daydream a lot? are you volatile, or do you stay calm when conflicts arise?

i love to day dream, it helps me determine what i really want and its a lovely distraction when the goings get tough. i try to avoid conflicts in every situation possible but if i were pushed, id either accept my mistake and apologize and work towards a better future; or i would tell the other person how im feeling and what i can do to help them feel better.

what would i give? – do you cry often? if you could change anything about your past, what would it be?

things make me sad but rarely enough to cry, things more so tend to weigh me down then break me. i let the sadness take me however it sees fit. and if thats to cry, so be it. if i could change anything about my past, i would just say that you will only get this chance to start over in a new state once, the years will go by quick so to TAKE OPPORTUNITIES WHEN THEY SHOW THEM SELF TO YOU!!!!!!

#adoration #rockcandey #stan tag #this took so long

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