#i cut myself off writing this but please note that its the happiest of happy endings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunnybimbo · 6 years

Text

for @hunkshipweek day 2, magic/supernatural!

ship: shunk (shiro/hunk)

word count: ~5k

Read it on AO3.

“You don’t have to do this.” Pidge says to him, just as the dawn begins to settle. He’s surrounded by faceless people, or atleast it feels that way with how little they look at him, so he focuses on nothing but her. Heavy makeup is traced across his eyelids, golden lines echoing the whisper of sun beams that paint his skin.

His lips are doused even heavier in it, shinier still, and he tries not to mess up the hard work everyone went through to make him pretty as he says, “I kinda have to.”

He reaches over with his free hand, the one not dipped in oil and painted with intricate patterns, pressing their palms together. “If all goes well, you’ll see me next week.”

Someone harrumphs behind him, and he hears a mimicking, condescending, “If all goes well.”

Which was fair. Truly, if all went well, he’d be gone before the end of the day, snatched up by greedy gods who demanded their prize. It wasn’t often someone was chosen to be sacrificed, only one every few years, and even less often that people disappeared.

But, when those years pass and someone never returns, the crops are always abundant and plentiful, and the village prospers. If all goes well.

Pidge’s eyes are wet, but tears don’t fall past her clumped eyelashes as his hand is plucked away to be painted to match the rest of him.

It’s because of her that he’s here.

Not purposefully, of course. He’d volunteered, after she was called upon by the village head to take over the duty as the chosen. She came to him, terrified not just for herself but for her family.

Ever since Matt had gotten taken, she’s the only one left in her family that was spritely enough to make money. Her father was deeply ill, always, and her mother struggled enough with the despair she felt in her heart after losing one child.

Hunk had come to the village alone as a child, not necessarily abandoned but it felt that way sometimes. But he didn’t have people depending on him as much as Pidge did. It was only natural.

Hunk never considered himself to be the brave type— and in fact, his stomach was trying to claw its way through his gut as he sat on the throne that may just as well been his crypt— but he put on a mask to broadcast as much for her.

His head is jerked away, breaking their gaze prematurely, and he feels himself blush as his robes are tugged away so they can mark the rest of him, exposing him completely nude. Pidge hardly batters an eye, but she does turn away for decency’s sake.

“I’ll miss you.” She says, after a quiet moment of listening to the faceless group swarm around him like flies homing in on a rotting carcass. His hair is tugged from scalp to root, forced straight by a fire-hot comb. “I’ll keep your house clean.”

“Thank you.” Hunk says, honestly. “If I don’t come back…” He hears Pidge’s sharp inhale, but he continues over her with, “You can have all my stuff. Even the stuff I pretend to hide.”

“Not like I haven’t snooped through it anyway, like you do me.” Pidge gripes. Neither of them mentions the way she sniffles, wiping at her nose with her short sleeves.

It was nearing fall, the perfect time for crops to flourish before winter hits hard, but the weather was unforgiving. Hot and sticky with mist from morning to noon and on, it more often than not led to people wandering to the nearest body of water and floating until they pruned like sour grapes.

Hunk supposes he should be thankful that he’s expected to be naked, then, instead of wrapped in layers and layers of heavy, uncomfortably ornate robes and gowns. He’d cling to little mercies like that until this entire thing passed.

And really, this was a good thing. If best came to best, he’d be pampered all week long and then, better still, taken care of for the rest of his life. The chosen ‘few’ were never abandoned by the village, as per tradition.

Really, it would have been a more fought over position if not for the even rarer few that disappear.

---

Pidge is dismissed out of the room that has nothing more than a stone throne. She would have gone kicking and screaming if she hadn’t been asleep after sitting with him for nearly seven hours.

Hunk watches her get carried off, but his gut instincts tell him that she’s going to be just fine. As for himself, however…

The caretakers position him down to the hair on his arms, giving him a sharp slap on the thigh if he even twitches his nose. It’s uncomfortable and demeaning, and the tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but he sucks it up because he does not want to sit through getting his makeup redone.

He’s draped in silk, wrapped to be enticingly teasing across his lap and his shoulders, but he feels like he’s drowning in delicate threads. It doesn’t help that he’d been bathed in oil for so long that his bones feel like jelly. He could hardly smell anything other than the overpowering florals meant to last for the rest of the week.

A caretaker pins his hair too tightly to his head, the final decoration to the centerpiece that Hunk was. It nearly overwhelms him, and his fingers twitch to rip it out and run off into the forest, but he somehow convinces himself to stay put.

The group leaves, silent enough that he doesn’t realize it’s happened until his heartbeat fades into the quiet and he’s left alone with nothing but the faint drip of water from the nearby pool.

Hunk rolls his neck, vindictively satisfied when he feels a lock of hair fall out of place.

He hadn’t realized that the quiet would be the worst part of this, but it’s only five days. Five days of being a living doll for a greedy god and his self-proclaimed lackeys.

He grips the armrest of his throne and lets his eyes flutter shut.

Just five days.

---

That first night, Hunk disappears.

---

He blinks just once, it feels like, but everything changes.

Hunk rolls over, realizing that he’s in a bed rather than on a stone slab, and the pillows pull him in to their sinful embrace of woven satin and fluffed feathers.

The room he’s in is something fit for royalty, grand and tall. The windows are layers with thick glass, but they’re somehow warm to the touch when he pads over to look out of them.

He’s on some sort of island, he thinks at first, until he realizes that the rolling blue he sees isn’t an ocean, but the sky itself. Clouds circle past him, misting the ground with dew, and Hunk feels faint.

He sees a city, off to the left. It’s far enough away that he can’t make out all of the details, but everything looks to be outlined in royal starlight, and Hunk is sure he’s lost it.

He’s still dressed as he was before he… was kidnapped? The shawls cling to his skin as he starts to nervously sweat all over, but his makeup doesn’t run. He takes an unsteady step across the plush carpet, and he can’t resist wiggling his toes against the soft fuzz that gathers between them.

He stumbles to the door, like a newborn deer seeking freedom.

The hallway is just as grand as the room, sconces lining every stone and illuminating them in rainbow hues, but Hunk doesn’t get a chance to focus on them because he runs directly into another person as soon as he steps out.

He stumbles, but the other catches him before he can fall. A chill cuts through him as he takes in the skin, and he suddenly feels like a lonely figure alone in the dark in the middle of a freezing winter.

His vision blurs, but he doesn’t realize that they’re tears until the person— the god— in front of him wipes them away.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’s told. “I would have given you more warning.”

“Um.” Hunk starts, focusing on the dark hand that releases its hold on him. He swears he sees stars dancing across those fingertips before they fade into the pale skin, further up the forearms.

He belatedly realizes the god is missing an arm, then.

“Um.” Hunk repeats, head jerking to look him in the eye. “Did I die?”

“No.” The amused god assures, hooking his arm in Hunk’s to lead him down the hall. “Nobody dies here.”

“Oh.”

Hunk pauses, going green around the edges, and the rest is a blur.

---

He learns that 1) he truly isn’t dead and 2) Shiro chose him to be his sacrifice.

“More of a gift, I’d like to think.” Shiro murmurs, running his thumb across the curves of Hunk’s cheeks after his nausea has passed and his skin isn’t as pale.

He was carried, and yes that is literal despite the god missing a limb, to a nearby pasture— a plateau of sorts that overlooked the entire kingdom. The grand city Hunk had seen from his window was apparently one of three, and each was overlooked by a different god. It went completely over Hunk’s head, or maybe he didn’t want to focus too much on the logistics of it.

He focuses, instead, on Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, the technical ruler of his entire village, that preferred to be known as Shiro because it made him feel less intimidating despite the gnarled scars running up his half-arm and the wide expanse of his shoulders.

Shiro watches him in return. He doesn’t say much, that introspective type. It makes Hunk nervous to have his every move watched, but Shiro has a gentle look on his face, so maybe it isn’t all bad.

“So… I’m not dead. I’m your gift? So, like a concubine or something?”

Shiro snorts— a god, snorting!— and quickly shakes his head. “Not at all, unless that’s what you choose to be.”

He tilts his head, dropping onto his knees besides where Hunk was curled in the grass. He has wings, Hunk realizes, that only show when the sun is directly behind him. They’re transparent like snowflakes, reflecting light, and they look just as fragile.

“I chose for you to come to this realm because I’m interested in you.” Shiro confesses. “I’m the selfish type, you see. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Hunk wheezes in surprise, probably in what’s meant to be a laugh. “You want to get to know me? A plain old human boy?”

“Yes.” Shiro leans closer, staring directly into Hunk’s soul. His fingers stray to Hunk’s makeup, seemingly before he can stop himself, and they rub along the paints staining his skin as he says, “There’s no one I’ve been interested in more.”

Shiro has been called many things in his eternal life, but he’s never been called a liar. He’d seen Hunk before— seen everyone and everything before, actually— but now, decorated and docile before him in sheer robes and adorning his sigils? He wasn’t just interested, he was smitten.

Hunk regards him cautiously, as if he’s seeing every bad ending play behind his eyelids when he blinks, but Shiro hurries to assuage his fears with a gentle touch to his hand and a, “As agreed, your village will prosper. I’ll send someone to bless the crops soon.”

Unfortunately, that seems to have the opposite effect he’s hoping for. Hunk’s eyes grow sad, wet at the corners, and he mumbles to himself, “So I really can’t go back?”

It hurts his heart to hear that, but Shiro is understanding. He’s a selfish god, yes, but not a cruel one.

He stands, tugging Hunk to his side, where he belongs. Then, he opens a portal, laying out the entrance to his temple. “I won’t keep you here if that’s truly what you wish.” Shiro says to him, pressing into his space until they’re chest to chest. “But also know that I won’t let you go that easily.”

He feels the mild onset of panic thrumming across Hunk’s skin, so he backs off with a disarming smile. “Let’s make a deal.”

He’d always been known to be a clever god, too.

---

Hunk feels himself wake up, startlingly sudden. The hills are alight with the rising sun, and the sunbeams are warm against his freezing toes as his senses come back to him one by one.

He can see his caretakers’ shadows crawling across the wall like lizards, and Hunk is sure he must not have been gone long at all.

The glittery gold on his lips is smudged out of place, he can see from the mirrors lining the walls, and he can faintly remember Shiro’s thumbs smearing across it when they’d first met. He can still feel his touch, actually, omnipresent as if Shiro is just waiting for him off to the side.

It makes him nervous, but not in the way he was expecting. His heart jitters in his chest, nervous like someone confessing their love with a spring love letter.

Pidge is with the caretakers, Hunk can hear. She’s arguing to come in, from her tone, and Hunk fondly shakes his head. He couldn’t bear to leave her alone in this little village. Not that she would be truly alone, not with her mother and father who care for her so dearly.

Hunk remembers Shiro’s deal then, a gentle reminder from the god himself, probably.

“Fall in love with me before the week ends,” Shiro whispered, and it felt much like the moon eclipsing the sun. “And you must stay here.”

He’d circled around Hunk’s back, clawed fingers tilting Hunk’s chin up to have him look at the clouds. “If you’re able to resist, I’ll let you go with a wish of your choice for wasting your time.”

It sounds like a trick— too much of a win-win for Hunk and not for Shiro, but it isn’t like he has many options being a mortal toy in a god’s hands. And Hunk’s betraying heart actually trusts him, too, to keep his word.

Hunk keeps it a secret from Pidge, just in case.

---

The second night, Hunk is taken again.

---

A bundle of wildflowers is placed in his hands, tied delicately together with a wrap of ribbon. The long grasses tickle his fingertips as he sniffs at the pollen in the center, only to sneeze a cloud of it away.

Shiro grins at him, pleased at the flushed, wide-eyed look Hunk gives him. “I learned this is something your kind does. Flowers for their beloved.”

One couldn’t blame Hunk for the dopey smile that stretches his lips, not when Shiro bashfully tucks one of the dandelions behind Hunk’s ear. If he squints, he could swear that the god was actually blushing a bit, around the edges.

“Thank you.” Hunk breathes, fingering the soft petals against his thumb. “These are lovely.”

It’s on the tip of Shiro’s tongue to relay those same sentiments back at him, what with Hunk decorated the way he was. Gold jewels wrapped around his limbs, tinkling when the charms clink together, and his hair is tied up and dipped purple. That always had been Shiro’s favorite color.

He holds off, though, because humans do these things slowly.

“If I may?” Shiro offers his hand, the only he’s got, and takes Hunk out on a date.

---

Shiro takes him to dance with the stars, first. The sun hums in the plentiful space between them, but Shiro keeps him steady as Hunk is spun on Saturn’s rings.

Hunk can’t tell his fingers from the stardust, but that doesn’t matter when Shiro shows him a triage of growing galaxies in the distance, glowing with colors that Hunk didn’t even know existed.

He’d never been one for travel, much too motion-sick to even joke with the idea, but he feels completely at peace millions of miles away from ground, merging with the universe itself.

Shiro brings him back before he disappears within the universe with a simple touch to his back, pulling him close.

“May I?” Shiro asks, quiet and loud. Hunk has no clue what he’s asking, but he agrees nonetheless.

The stars get replaced with jellyfish and the space gets replaced by cold water and a faint pressure on his bones. It isn’t uncomfortable, and Hunk isn’t drowning, but that doesn’t stop the mild fright Hunk feels when he realizes.

Shiro, ever so touchy, crowds in close so that they can drift together. “I’ve got you.”

Hunk had never learned to swim— never was old enough before he was trapped in a landlocked village, but Shiro is patient enough.

The fish seem unafraid of them as they swim pass in their groups, circling curiously to nip at Hunk’s fingers. They leave Shiro alone, for some reason, choosing to pick at the mortal boy who couldn’t get himself to stay floating on his front instead of his back.

Shiro laughs at him, and it’s an incredibly nice expression for him to have, in Hunk’s opinion. “Like this.”

He loops around Hunk to pick over his form, teasingly running his fingers down his spine just to see him shiver. “I should have asked if you knew how to swim before I brought you here.”

“Would’ve been a nice warning.” Hunk agrees, flopping onto the seafloor. A plume of sand puffs around him, disrupting the sandcrabs that hurry to run off. “But I don’t mind it. I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

He rolls over onto his side, lifting a few inches off the sandbed before floating back down again, and he runs his fingers across briny kelp that threatens to tickle his nose like the pollen did. A jawfish peeks at him from its burrow, but it runs off as Hunk passes his fingers across the hole it makes.

None of it feels real, and deep down it probably isn’t, but he feels himself getting overwhelmed nonetheless. The unending space around them— both of stars and jellyfish— is too close and too far, and—

Just as he sits up with the first panicked breath of many, he’s back in the room he’d started. Shiro sits on the bed with him, worriedly chewing his lip as his hand hovers the space above Hunk’s chest.

“I’m sorry. Humans aren’t meant to experience things so quickly.” Shiro climbs fully onto the bed, and Hunk realizes that it must not have been real because neither of them are dripping wet. “It’s so strange to me, that you live so long but experience so little of your universe.”

And really, Hunk would be offended on behalf of mankind if he wasn’t drained by his sudden existential crisis.

Shiro kisses his forehead, cautiously careful. “My apologies, Hunk.” And then, much like their first meeting, he wipes away the gathered tears blinding him.

Hunk squints at Shiro, suspicious all at once. “Why are you doing this?”

Shiro looks like he wants to play coy, at first, but his shoulders drop and he pulls his hand back to give Hunk his space. “I love you.”

The confession is so sudden and out of the blue that Hunk nearly jumps out of his skin. He does jump off of the bed, gathering his robes just to give his hands something to do. “Why ? You hardly know me.”

Shiro seems confused at the question. “I know enough. I know the type of person you are.”

“That’s not how it works.” Hunk says, exasperated. “Love is supposed to be slow— you wake one day after years and you realize that you never want to leave the other person’s side. That sort of thing.”

And really, that’s a lie.

Hunk couldn’t count on four hands the amount of times people have run through their village, wind-flushed and enamored with their partners as they search for a place to be eloped. Most of them had hardly known one another for maybe six months.

Hunk has a right to want things to be slow, though. Right? Right.

Shiro frowns then. Not angry, but introspective. He stands to Hunk’s height, just a few inches more, and tilts his head up so that they can look one another in the eye. It seems to be something he likes doing.

“Gods aren’t supposed to fall in love at all.” He says, finally.

Shiro is a fantastic creature. He’s translucent, almost, but his missing hand is replaced with nothing more than space itself. His wings match, and if Hunk could reach up and palm his scalp, he would probably find horns there, too.

But, besides that, he’s face is soft and his eyes are open. With the expression he has now, lips slightly parted, dark eyes darker when they’re half-lidded, Hunk feels helpless.

His touch is gentle, fingers sliding lower and lower down Hunk’s body until they catch themselves at his hip, and Hunk is pulled in by it.

He’s sure, for the longest, that Shiro is going to close the distance between them and kiss him on the lips— he wants that to happen— but they break apart.

“Let me take you home.” Shiro murmurs, urging Hunk towards the door. “I’ll do better next time.”

The door opens, not to the hallway but through a mirror in the temple, and Hunk feels oddly disappointed.

When Hunk hesitates, Shiro gives him the most charming of smiles and says, “I’ll listen to what you said. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow.”

Hunk isn’t even sure of how to get back on his own, but he nods anyway.

---

He tells Pidge immediately what happened.

“I don’t know if what he wants from me is what he says, but…” Hunk sighs. “He’s sweet.”

Pidge’s eyebrows disappear behind her messy bangs. “The god that you were sacrificed to is sweet.”

She’s taking it rather well, in all honesty. Hunk isn’t sure he’d be as calm as she seemed, if the roles were opposite. “What do you think I should do, Pidge? I’m falling in love with him, probably, but if that happens, I’m going to have to leave.”

“There’s nothing for you here, Hunk.” Pidge sighs. She steps between the pillars that he isn’t allowed to pass, the ones that act as entrance to the temple, and she hooks her hands on her hips as she looks him straight in the eye.

“You’re here.” He mumbles, sulkily if not for the serious situation.

She rolls her eyes, exaggerated in a way that he knows is just to make him feel better— but it works. “Who am I to stand in the way of a god and his lover?”

She leads him further into the temple, familiar with it even though she didn’t want to be. Her fingers trace the engravings on the throne as she plops down on it, and Hunk sits on the ground beside her. That’s how it probably would have been, with her dressed up and taken away, if he hadn’t stolen her place.

“I convinced Ma that it’s best we leave this place.” Pidge says, after they get settled. “Right before this entire thing happened— when I didn’t even know I was gonna get picked. She’s all for it.”

She shakes her head, pulling her legs to cross in the seat. “We’re not going to be here much longer, Hunk. Once we get enough money for a cart, we’re grabbing everything we can and we’re leaving in the middle of the night.”

Hunk is struck, then, with a thought. Shiro had promised that if Hunk went with him, the town would be blessed— the crops would flourish, the town would thrive. Pidge would be able to get enough money with odd jobs alone, probably.

“I see that look on your face.” Pidge says, squinting at him like she does when she knows he’s doing something he shouldn’t be.

“I’ll handle everything, Pidge.” Hunk promises. “I know you and your family will be able to get out of here before the next season.”

“And what about you and the mistress?”

Hunk grimaces at the phrasing, and by the cheeky grin on Pidge’s face, he knows she did it on purpose.

---

Shiro doesn’t come for him that night. Even after Hunk has steeled himself long after Pidge has gone, and has paced the entire temple to tire himself out to fall asleep and meet with him, Shiro never comes.

Hunk doesn’t sleep well.

---

That next morning, when Hunk looks at himself in the mirror, he finds Shiro looking back at him, instead.

“I know your plan.” Shiro says, after Hunk’s startled yell. Immediately, Hunk is on edge, taking a hesitant step away, even though Shiro isn’t even in the same realm as him.

Shiro looks defeated behind the glass, shoulders dropping. “I’m not angry at you.” But obviously upset, nonetheless. His eyes are heavy with heartbreak, and Hunk feels his own heart cracking down the middle just from that. “I understand why you would want to do it.”

Hunk can’t seem to get his voice to work immediately, and he must take too long to respond, because Shiro continues on with, “Our deal is rescinded.” He looks dull— no longer shaped with stars, but instead edged with opaque black. “I never meant for you to feel trapped.”

A greedy, selfish god, but not a cruel one.

“Shiro.” Hunk presses his hand against the glass, and it’s just as cold as that first touch they shared. “I… didn’t mean it like that.”

Shiro, somehow, is able to smile at him. “I know you didn’t.” It’s sad, a tad watery, but he’s resolute as he says, “I admire you a great amount, Hunk. No matter what’s happened. I will keep up my end of the deal— granting you the wish of letting your town prosper.”

He waves a hand— and nothing immediate happens, but Hunk can feel the magic thrumming through the wind.

“Good luck, my love.”

And then, he’s gone.

---

Hunk is left alone for that entire day, excluding the caretakers who don’t talk to him. It leaves him with plenty time to feel terrible, with enough to spare to think about a solution.

The caretakers are slow, with more than half the week finished. Tomorrow would be the last time for a few seasons that they would have to take care of a person instead of the temple, and they seem bored of their duty.

By the time they leave, the sun has set and Hunk’s toes are pruny with lavender oil. He waits longer, though, because if he gets caught he’s going to get in astronomical amounts of trouble.

When the moon is high, and most of the lights are out in the nearby homes, Hunk sneaks past the temple gates and out into the forest, towards Pidge’s house.

Rocks and twigs dig uncomfortable into the soles of his feet, what with him being barefoot, but he trudges on until the path smooths to stone and he can see the furnace outside of Pidge’s house burning low with dying embers.

---

She’s surprised to see him, especially trying to sneak through her window once she comes in from bringing fresh water from the nearby spring.

She’s less surprised to hear what happened. More irritated.

“Hunk.” She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her glasses aren’t in the way, half-melted after she’d accidentally dropped them in her smithy.

Hunk is curled up in her bed, looking much like a kicked street puppy. She sighs for the tenth time that half-hour, lighting the oil lamp on her desk.

“I don’t know much about what’s going on.” She confesses. “I don’t know anything about gods, or magic, or love, or anything like that. But even so, I know that you’re kinda messing up your own chances here.”

She hops onto the bed beside him. “Don’t you go making yourself unhappy, Hunk. Not for my sake, or anyone else’s. I already have a plan to get out of here, and if you stay and I’m gone, what’s going to be the point?”

It makes him feel better and worse at the same time.

“Now I’m taking you back to that temple, and you’re going to kick and fuss until that ornery god-suitor of yours comes back and takes you on a honeymoon.”

---

One would think, upon seeing Hunk in the middle of the day— of the final day as ‘sacrifice’— that he would hurry to call upon Shiro and fix everything and, if all goes well, have his happily ever after.

But he’s scared. There’s no guarantee that anything he says will fix it, or make Shiro feel better, and he’s not even sure if his own feelings are true or not.

Hunk knows, though, deep down, that he wants to be with Shiro.

He crosses his arms and then uncrosses them. Follows the length of the room to the left, and then back to the right.

It’s all just to kill time, or maybe his own body is having fun watching his heart and brain torture one another.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against one of the mirrors and heaves a sigh that fogs the glass. “Shiro…”

He hears a whisper of his name start on the window before he sees Shiro appear before him. “Hunk.”

He doesn’t look much better than Hunk feels, if he’s being honest, but he’s still a stunning figure, and Hunk ignores his nerves for once and trudges forward with, “I’m sorry.”

Shiro flinches at the words, pulling back. His image fades, but Hunk steps forward as if he could physically step through to pull him back.

“Wait! Just, let me say something?” Hunk rests his hand against Shiro’s jaw, tracing the skin as if they were actually touching. Shiro’s eyes flutter shut as if he could actually feel it. “Please?”

Shiro’s eyes stay shut, but he nods his assent.

“I’m not sure if I’m… in love with you.” He starts. “I’ve never been in love. Romantically. But I’m willing to try, with you.”

He feels a shift in the room, magic curling around his peripheries, but he continues on when Shiro’s eyes— languid grey instead of black— open. “You’re a very charming god.” Hunk says, cheeks heating. “And incredibly pretty. I’m not sure what I can offer, but… I’m offering what I can.”

Shiro seems stumped at the confession, stumbling past the second half. His eyes are wide with surprise, stance guarded, but he looks pleased anyway.

Hunk blinks, and he’s in Shiro’s castle. Shiro’s arm comes to wrap around his shoulders, squeezing him tight as Shiro softly confesses, “I was hoping I would get to see you again. I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon, with such… pretty words.”

He’s shy, Hunk realizes. His cheeks are dusted pink, he’s nervously fiddling with his hair when he pulls away, and he can hardly look Hunk in the eye. It’s incredible how such a romantic soul, who literally brought Hunk to see the heavens themselves, could be so bashful.

Hunk’s laugh comes out as a snort that startles Shiro, who hurries to say, “I think that you’re also pretty, of course. Beautiful. And kind, and— perfect.”

Just like that, all of Hunk’s preconceived notions of Shiro are gone, and he’s mesmerized by the man before him.

He presses a kiss against Shiro’s cheek, partly to save him from rambling himself into a puddle. “Can we start over? Before I messed up.”

And Shiro is a greedy god, a selfish god, a lonely god. But forever and always would he be a kind one.

#shunk #hunkshipweek #voltron #LONG POST #so long #jam writes #i FINISHED IT #zoowee mama #i cut myself off writing this but please note that its the happiest of happy endings

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lilysdaydreams · 4 years

Text

The Artist and The Musician

→ I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Fluff.

→ Words: 5.6k

→ Request: Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛

→ Warnings: Swearing.

→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛

→ if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.

You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.

"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.

You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.

@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"

→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare

@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"

→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet

You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.

It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.

"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"

He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.

"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.

You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.

"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.

He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.

He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.

"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.

"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.

He nodded against your shoulder.

"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"

"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"

He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."

"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."

He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.

You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.

Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.

You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.

The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.

"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.

You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.

"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.

Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.

"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.

"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?

You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.

"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.

"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"

"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.

"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.

"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.

"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."

"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.

"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"

Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.

"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"

You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"

"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.

You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.

"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.

"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.

You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.

"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."

"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"

"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.

Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.

"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"

Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.

"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."

"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"

"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"

"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"

"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."

"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.

"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.

Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.

"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.

The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.

"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"

She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.

"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.

"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."

Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.

"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.

You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.

"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.

"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.

"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.

"No problem."

You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.

Sykkunos friends were nice.

After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.

An Instagram post on @junefarie account:

[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]

Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.

Comments:

@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!

@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.

→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.

@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.

→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point

→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.

@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!

→ SOONNNNNN

You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.

Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.

Underneath was a number.

"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.

When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.

You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.

Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.

"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"

You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.

Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.

@junefarie Instagram story:

[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]

Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.

A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed. Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.

"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.

"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."

"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"

"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"

You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.

"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.

"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."

"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.

"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"

"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"

"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."

"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"

There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"

You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.

"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"

"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."

"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."

"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."

"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,

"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”

It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.

"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"

"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."

Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.

"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.

"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.

"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.

He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.

Just a little.

You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.

He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.

There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.

You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.

"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)

"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.

"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.

"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.

You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.

"So what are you doing at Christmas?"

"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.

"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.

"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.

He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.

"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.

He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.

It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.

You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."

You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.

They always knew.

So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.

There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.

"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?

"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.

A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.

At least you had your brothers blessing.

Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.

These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.

He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."

"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.

"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."

"But what if-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.

You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.

You were gonna marry this man.

"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.

You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.

You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.

"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.

"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.

"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.

"Oh shut up."

A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.

You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.

"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.

"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.

"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.

You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.

"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."

You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.

"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"

You melted right there.

A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.

The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.

"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."

Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.

"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.

At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.

"I want half the winnings."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.

"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.

You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.

You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.

fin.

Corpse husband taglist: @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband fanfiction #sykkunos sister #sykkuno fanfic #hope you enjoy #love yous

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

Text

Pain of reality [Remus Lupin x Reader] - Requested

Title: Pain of reality Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 16 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this little one requested by a reader of mine on Wattpad. I found the idea quite adorable, but I ended up making it a lot more angsty than I thought it would turn out to be. I hope you will like it anyway :D Summary: Remus breaks up with you in fear of hurting you. But then you overhear a conversation between Remus and his friends, which leaves you in shock. Request: [x]

"Hi HeloiseDBrightmore, I have a request for a one shot on on your Marauders imagines (X reader + gifs) story, could you do one where you get in a bad fight with Remus and he breaks up with you out of fear you will find out his furry little problem. You feel lost and then 2 weeks after the breakup you overhear Sirius and James telling him you deserve to know the truth and that you won’t care about his furry little problem. You step out to confront them, idk really know maybe something similar? I really love Remus! Thanks, keep writing your really good!" - BOOK__LOVER22 [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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"Remus John Lupin!" You shouted as you stood in the middle of the Clock Tower Courtyard with your hands resting on your hips, lips pursed in anger.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." He replied as he was about to walk away.

"No! I am so fed up of you always running away when I dare to ask about your disappearances. I have the right to know." You spoke as you walked over and stopped right before him, looking up into his dark orbs. "We have been together for almost a year. I deserve an explanation. I feel like you are keeping something from me." You tried this time in a calmer manner.

"I'm sorry." He heaved a deep sigh as he was about to talk again, but he didn't.

"Talk to me, please." You placed your hands on his chest as you inched closer to him.

"I can't." He got hold of your wrists, removed them from his body and walked away. You didn't even bother to turn around. You just let your words escape.

"Why are we even together if you can't trust me enough?" You sounded broken and weak, but he knew how hurt you have been even without hearing your voice. He knew it was all his fault. He was scared. He was afraid you would leave him, but most of all, he was terrified of hurting you.

"I guess, you are right." He blurted out, making you spin around in your place.

"What?" You exclaimed as your wide eyes were plastered over his back. He didn't turn around. He didn't even look at you for a mere second.

"I guess, we shouldn't be together. I clearly can't trust you." Silent tears left your eyes, your cheeks soaked in the liquid. You felt as if you have been stabbed on the chest and was struggling to breath.

"You don't mean that." You tried to fight the inevitable.

"I do. I don't think we should be together." He shook his head, looking up at the Clock Tower. "I think it's better if we just leave each other alone." His voice didn't even break at his words, making you feel as if you meant nothing to him. As if you have not showed him how much he meant to you. As if you have been at fault for everything that has gone bad in your relationship.

"Remus, please... don't do this. You know I love you. I really do. If I didn't show you well enough, then just tell me how to. Please don't leave me..." You sobbed. His words cut deep and you felt your heart being clenched in your ribcage stronger and stronger the more he stood in silence. "I thought everything was okay a couple of days ago. Have I done something? Let's talk this through." You attempted to save the situation, but he slowly shook his head.

"Nothing is okay. I don't... I don't want this anymore. I don't want to be with you anymore." He spoke firmly. Each and every word of his cutting deeper. You stared at his back, no words wanting to leave your lips anymore. You loved him to your core and you have never dared to imagine a break up. You were just perfect together. Of course you did fight on occasions, mostly about the secret he has been keeping from you, but it has never gone this far.

You were watching his brown sweater, the way the horizontal lines ran across the clothing, the way the bottom of his jumper wrinkled on his back.

You went numb. Your thoughts were all a mess, making you unable to process the situation. He meant everything to you, but he didn't even take a look at you as he ended the happiest part of your life.

You heaved a deep sigh and walked up to him to stand beside him. You wiped off the tear stains from your cheek and sighed once more, forcing your words out.

"I hope you will find happiness in the future." Your voice was soft and light, barely audible. It was full of sadness and guilt, feeling as if it was all your fault. That you could have done more. That you might have done something you weren't even aware of. Maybe you argued with him too much. Maybe you didn't show your feelings clearly enough. Maybe... you were just not good enough.

You walked away from him, heading up to your dormitory, wishing to be as far as possible from the person who just broke your heart into the tiniest pieces. You dropped on your bed, sobbing into your pillow, going through each and every happy moment you have experienced with Remus. His light kisses, his loving hugs, his strong hold around your hand. He was your everything and you were beyond heart broken.

He didn't even look at you as he broke off your relationship, confirming that all along it was you that felt deeply about him, but he didn't even care enough to look you in the eye while leaving you.

You didn't want to hate him, hell you couldn't have, but your pain was unbearable. After what happened, you weren't sure he has ever loved you. You thought, maybe it was just an act. He got rid off you so easily, it hurt how simple of a step it was for him to take, while you had to suffer this horrible heartache. It was unfair and you wanted nothing, but to forget him, to forget that your year long relationship might not have been real.

You cried into your pillows till the moment there were no more tears left and your heartache found its company in your headache. You gave into your sweet slumber, hoping for this all to be just a bad nightmare.

But it wasn't.

Weeks has passed and you were still hurt. You caught his eyes wondering over to you, making each and every look feel like another stab into your chest. As if he was mocking you. As if he wanted to see that you were hurting enough.

Remus wasn't that kind of a person. But then did you actually know him? Breaking up with you seemed to be one of the easiest things he has ever done. The heavy weight of your unrequited love and the sight of your clearly unaffected ex-boyfriend fuelled your sadness.

As you walked out to the Black lake on a cloudy, dark afternoon, you saw Remus talking to his friends, almost as if they were having an argument. Remus was heavily gesturing, like he was trying to deny something, while James and Sirius seemed agitated.

You walked closer to the group of friends, hiding behind a large oak tree. You have stood just a couple of meters away, close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

"Moony, you have to stop this. You are hurting both of you." Sirius said as he threw his arms in the air dramatically.

"I can't, Padfoot. I can't let Y/N get any closer to me." He tried to argue with his friend, making you frown as you realised you were part of the subject of their conversation.

"But you can! We stayed by your side all along. We didn't leave you. Why is it so hard to believe that people who love you would stay by your side?" James argued this time, trying to convince Remus, but he just shook his head in denial.

"It's not just that, Prongs. It would kill me if I ever hurt Y/N. It kills me to even think about it. I can't let that happen and the most logical way is to keep myself away." He explained firmly.

"Logical? You are not being logical at all, Moony. Y/N is a smart person, who loves you to bits. I can't imagine anyone else being more accepting, more loving. You would just need to explain things clearly. You need to communicate instead of making decision on your own. Stupid decision to stay the least." Sirius attempted to argue with his friend's reasoning.

"I can't." He replied simply.

"I give up." Sirius stepped back abruptly, turning to the tree you were hiding behind. Your eyes widened. So did his, before a huge grin appeared across his face and gave you a cheeky wink. "Let me ask you something. Do you love Y/N?"

"Of course, I do. How many times do I have to tell you how much? Do you think I would have ended things if I didn't care?" He frowned, raising his voice, clearly agitated. You felt your heartbeat quicken, hope filling you up once again.

"Do you miss her?" Sirius continued.

"Please, don't make this any more difficult than it already is." He begged his friend almost as if he was in pain.

"Do you?" He didn't plan on giving up though.

"What do you think? I don't think I have loved anyone else so strongly before." He heaved a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Can we just change subject? I really don't want to talk about this."

"Then Y/N has the right to know that you are werewolf." He shrugged as if he was concluding the conversation. Your eyes widened in surprise, your lips parted involuntarily. You stepped out of your hiding, staring at the love of your life in shock.

"Y/N..." Remus exclaimed, a terrified expression across his face.

"Did you hear all of that?" Sirius asked and you nodded in reply.

"Sirius, what have you done?" Remus whispered weakly, his eyes not even leaving you for a second.

"I made sure that Y/N had a say in your decision too. You can hate me and you can even curse me for revealing your secret, but breaking up over something that you didn't even try to explain, is plain dumb. You didn't even give Y/N a chance to understand or to make a decision by leaving you or staying by your side." He shrugged casually.

You were shocked to say the least. It was definitely hard to process, but in no way it affected the fact that he loved you and you loved him. Sirius was right. He should have shared this with you and let you decide whether you wanted to stay by his side or leave him for good. You had every right to know, especially after you heard how much he loved you.

"So... you are... a werewolf?" You spoke hesitantly, questioningly. He heaved a deep sigh and hid his face behind his palms. "I am not saying I'm not surprised. I am still processing. But I had the right to know." You explained, waiting for him to reply.

"Maybe. I guess. But even if I told you, it wouldn't change the fact that I am afraid of hurting you. I can't be close to you." He shook his head, letting his arms drop.

"Actually, it would change a lot. I think I can make a decision on wanting to be with you or not even if you have a furry little problem. My feelings didn't change. I still love you, Remus." You replied firmly.

"Even if you wanted to be with me, despite all that you have just heard, I would still be scared of hurting you. I wouldn't want to risk that." He raised his voice to get his opinion across to you.

"But you said it yourself. You still love me." You tried to argue with him.

"But I don't want to be with you." He spoke firmly, making your heart skip a beat, your breath hitch in surprise. It has never occurred to you. He was right. He might have loved you, but that didn't mean he wanted to be with you. You couldn't begin to describe how silly you felt for having your hopes up.

"Oh..." You swallowed hard, feeling the tears collecting in your eyes.

"That's not what I..." He started, but you cut him off.

"No, no... I understand. I guess I just didn't think this through." You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly with a painful smile. It hurt bad. You thought being dumped was painful, but feeling rejected and being told he didn't need you for a second time, sent you over the edge.

"Y/N..." He called out for you, almost whispering your name painfully as he stepped closer. However you backed away. You didn't need him to comfort you. The last thing you needed is to feel him anywhere near you.

"It's fine, Remus. Really." You smiled at him, trying to force it as hard as you could to make him feel better. "It's fine." You said as you turned around and hurried back to the castle.

"You are officially an idiot." James exclaimed shaking his head.

You were almost running through the corridors, trying to keep your tears at bay until you were out of sight finally. You hid behind a portrait, a hole in the wall, which Remus showed you a couple of months back, letting your tears run across your face endlessly.

You held your fist in front of your chest, clenched tightly, your knuckles turning white as if it was helping your pain to go away. But it didn't. Your breathing was uneven, your lips dry, your face deformed. Your pain couldn't have been more obvious. You threw your head backwards, letting it harshly collide with the cold wall behind you. The pain was nothing compared to the lump, the suffocating feeling in your throat.

A flash of light blinded you for a second as you saw the portrait door open. Remus stepped inside, closing it behind himself.

"Remus, I really need to be alone right now." You spoke weakly, trying to remove the tear stains from your cheek.

"I'm sorry." He spoke, crouching down in front of you, placing one of his hands on your cheek gently. "I am so sorry, Y/N. I am so so sorry." He kept repeating himself, making you feel indescribably confused.

"I don't understand." You furrowed your brows, waiting for a reply.

"Of course, I want to be with you. That's not what I meant out there." He sighed deeply, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "When I broke up with you, it was the hardest moment of my life."

"Sure didn't seem like it." You scoffed rudely and even you were surprised at your behaviour.

"I know. I tried to hide it. I thought if I left you and stayed away from you, it would solve everything. You don't understand how hard it was for me to see you suffer each and every day. I wanted to walk up to you and just wrap my arms around you to tell you that it will all be fine. I am really sorry for hurting you." His gentle tone, his apologies, his guilty look made you want to engulf him in a hug, but you stopped yourself. You were too hurt.

"I thought I wasn't good enough. I thought maybe you never loved me." You admitted shyly.

"What? No! Don't even think about such silly things. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." He spoke in a panicking tone.

"What do you expect me to say?" You asked, unsure. He didn't want to be with you, but he wanted to be with you. He didn't want to hurt you, but here he was telling you how important you have been to him. You were utterly confused and beyond unsure of everything.

"I..." He stoped to think for a second. "I want to be with you. I want to kiss you, I want to hug you, I want to talk to you. I need you." He spoke softly, getting hold of your hands.

"Aren't you afraid of hurting me anymore?" You asked, not wanting him to back away in the future with the same stupid reason.

"I am. I am terrified even thinking about it. But I have the dumbest friends and I am the dumbest of them all. I guess they made me realise that I needed you more than I dared to admit." He confessed.

"I love you Remus. I really do, but how do I know that you won't just stand up with another stupid excuse and walk away?" You asked painfully, thinking through every possible options.

"My secret is out there. If you accept me like this, I have no reason to walk away." He squeezed your hands gently as if he tried to reassure you that he was there for you.

"We will have to talk about this. You will have to explain everything to me. My knowledge on werewolfs is not really broad." You smiled softly.

"Does that mean you are giving me a second chance?" He asked, eyes holding nothing but hope. You heaved a deep sigh before opening your lips to talk.

"You will need to work on getting my trust back. You really hurt me, you know?" You warned him even though you knew you would be back in his arms in no time. "You didn't let me make a decision on my own. You should know me by now, still you didn't even consider that I might have wanted to be with you whether you are a werwolf or not. You left me thinking you didn't want to be with me, that you didn't love me anymore. I thought it was all my fault. Seeing you every single day was as painful as it can get." You tried to make him understand how deeply his decision affected you.

"I am really sorry. I thought getting over the pain of break up was better than if I ever physically hurt you. I thought I made the right decision when I did it." He tried to explain it to you, but it didn't work on you anymore.

"Clearly didn't." You spoke harshly.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." He sighed deeply. "Would you give me another chance, please?" He asked with a guilty expression across his face and you finally let your hard exterior go.

"You know... maybe if you kissed me, that would help me decide." You smiled playfully, which earned a heartfelt laughter from him. He leaned closer to you and attached his lips to yours, placing his hand behind your neck, keeping you impossibly close to him. He was a little rough, maybe more passionate than ever, but you didn't mind. You felt his feelings, his reassurance coming through to you and you knew he would do anything to keep you by his side at this point. As you parted he hinted a small peck on your lips before looking into your eyes.

"Did that convince you?" He asked with a raised brow. His smile grew wider as you giggled at his question.

"Maybe you need to try again. I am not quite certain just yet." You smirked, which made him shook his head, but soon his lips were on yours once again, kissing you just as lovingly as before. If not more.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like and/or reblog the chapter. Thank you :)

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

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eatfishies · 4 years

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champagne problems

summary: “Your mom’s ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet, your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems.” note: features time skip! kageyama. all characters in the present timeline is 21+. slight spoilers from the manga. fem! reader. she/her pronouns. song: champagne problems by taylor swift word count: 1,800 words warnings: alchohol use genre: angst arthie’s note: a fic for the capricorn baby ~~ happy birthday kags!! initially i didn’t plan this out however i’ve been listening to taylor’s new album on repeat and one of my favs from her album is the song “champagne problems” hence the title *wink wink* anyways, this is rlly sad and i hope all of you like this as much as i like writing it hehe ~~ ♡(｡- ω -) ↳ main masterlist ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Hugging herself tightly, clutching onto the thick jacket to shield herself from the chilliness, watching as the pearly white snow cascade onto the wooden floor, evaporating into liquid. “Y/n?” He calls out making her head turned, gazing at him fondly. He walked towards her, handing a glass of champagne which she thanked for the gesture. They both indulged in the alcoholic drink as they watch the snowfield scenery before them. It was Christmas Eve and they just had gone and celebrate Kageyama’s 24th birthday. After bidding farewells to their guests, the couple took the time to unwind outside their rented vacation home, sitting atop of the snowy mountain. Kageyama had insisted to stay here for a few weeks until Christmas or possibly till New Year’s. Now that they had the house all to themselves, he couldn’t help but feel more anxious as time goes by, side-eyeing his lover who seemed to be immersed on admiring the beautiful frosty landscape from a distance.

He had memorized the details of his properly thought-out plan, wishing all of his luck that nothing ruins it. God, knows how long he spent dwelling over it and fretting about the worst possible outcomes that could come out of this. However, his friends had reassured him multiple times that it would go as smoothly as he hopes it to be. Feeling the presence beside him made him fully aware of how in awe he is with her, his ethereal partner who is ever-so kind, thoughtful, supportive, patient and understanding of every part of him. She even knows how to manage his short-temper and often gives him space whenever he needed it. Looking back on their relationship definitely confirmed of how utterly in love he is with her. Shaking his head, quickly diminishing any thoughts that would turn into a session of overthinking— he gently intertwines their fingers together, the cold emitting off of her as she blinks at him innocently. “Babe, are you okay?” She asked, concerned underneath her tired, soft voice. He gave her a small smile, gripping her hand to assure her, “I just feel lucky to have you.” That caused her to broke into fits of laughter, he furrowed his brows. “What’s so funny about me confessing what I truly feel?” She can hear the tiny hurt evident in his voice. She cooed, caressing his cheek, “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just.. so weird of you to suddenly make a proclaim that you love me when you’re usually so standoffish.” He averted his gaze, pondering over her words. Quickly sensing that he might go into overthinking mode, she held his face, staring into his crystal azure eyes. “Kageyama Tobio.” She started off, watching him gape at her. “You are the most loving person ever. It doesn’t matter that you don’t often express your emotions but your actions speaks louder than those words. So please, don’t be sadden over what I said. It’s a part of you that made me love you and I don’t mind that at all. In fact; I love every single thing about you.” Hearing those affirmations made his heart sparked with elation, gingerly bringing their faces close as he tasted her lips that escalated into something more as he drowns himself in her love with the tang of champagne filling up his mouth every time he kissed her. He’s so desperately, maddeningly, in love with her. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ The bright sun peeked beneath the curtains, signalling them to wake and start their day. He awoken to a pair of arms wrapped around him, soft breathing from his lover as she sleeps peacefully. He smiled, gleeful of her declaration and what the future has in store for the both of them. Carefully removing himself from her embrace, he walked towards the kitchen, preparing them both breakfast before heading out. They took the train to visit their families, beaming at everyone and its cheerful atmosphere that makes him feel warm. He recalls the moment he told his family about his “plan”, they were all thrilled and couldn’t wait to hear the news. Her family had been delighted as well, noting that they were both good for each other and is a perfect couple. Knowing that he has permission to make his move, he feels himself getting more eager to execute his plan. The reunion with families had left him content and all of the anxiousness is slowly dissipating away as they strolled around the park, stopping at the middle where a massive Christmas tree was placed, decorated with glimmering ornaments and festive lights all around. It makes the ambience more fitting with what he’s about to do. Throughout the entire day, he had observed his partner, imprinting her facial expressions into his mind and the way she communicates. Kageyama has always been observant— he just paid extra attention to his lover than anything else (except volleyball). He knew she is the one when she didn’t fuss or get annoyed with his obsession over volleyball even if his career comes first, she never minded and persuaded him to go follow his dreams. He reciprocated that with her too; often checking on her to make sure that she doesn’t overwork herself and celebrated every milestone and promotions she achieved. He knew how important it is to her for her ambitions to come first; they’re both alike yet different in many ways which makes them work well together. Her eyes gazes at the bright lights, awe of the stunning decorations. He fidgets with the box inside his coat pocket, biting his lip as he tries to shake off the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. With his heart hammering against his chest, he bent down to one knee and pulls the box out of his pocket. Noticing his actions, she widened at the sight of him. He opens the box, revealing a dazzling gold ring. She covers her mouth, stunned. He exhaled, staring at her with so much honesty and love. “Y/n… we’ve been together for the past couple of years. You’ve stuck with me even through all the highs and lows. You comforted me during hard times and knows how to deal with my sensitive yet childish behaviours. You never once doubted my love for you and supported me through all of my endeavours. You were never upset with how ambitious I am for volleyball and always cheer for me throughout every game I’ve had. You made me the happiest person alive and God knows how much I love you with all my heart. I’m never one to rightfully express what I truly feel therefore here I am, pouring all of my feelings for you. With that being said, will you marry me?” Tears prickled on her eyes as she stared at the man whom she knew she loved… yet she doesn’t feel right by saying yes. With a shaky breath, she solemnly responds. “No.” Shocked upon her answer, he looked up at her in disbelief. Hurt plastered all across his face as he slowly stood up. He inched closer, “What do you mean… no?” He whispered, his voice brittle due to her statement as he can feel the void inside his chest. Breaking off the gaze, she closed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Tobio but.. no. I can’t. I’m not ready for it.” She admitted, scared of his reaction as she gripped her jacket tightly. “I— you could’ve just told me. I would wait for you and—“ “No. Tobio just.. please don’t make this harder than it already is.” She cuts him off. “I’m sorry but I can never see myself being tied to someone.” He can feel the ache in his heart, “Even me?” He asked painfully. Finally opening her eyes, she nodded sullenly. “Yes.” She gently holds his face, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “Goodbye, Tobio. I’m sorry.” With that, he lets her hand fall just like how she lets his heart shatter against the floor, as she disappears into the sea of strangers. The crowds bustling around him as he feel his heart broke into a thousand pieces. The ringing of his phone startled him from his stupor, he answered it without needing to check. “Mom.. she said no.” He breaks the news forlornly, allowing the tears that he held back stream down his cheeks as his chest ache dreadfully. The night had never seemed so dull for him as he lies his head against the train window, watching the constellations dim from blazing so brightly. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. He didn’t care if anybody stared at him sympathetically, all he knew and felt on this somber night is heartbreak, swallowing him whole as her crestfallen response plays in his head over and over again. He can tell from the moment he stepped inside their once-shared house that she had left and brought all of her belongings with her. Officially leaving him to wallow in his own sorrow. The box which the ring sits prettily at is tossed aside, he considers burning it or throwing it away but decided against it as the ring belongs to his mother whom got engaged with the said band. A picture of her grinning happily as the wind blows her hair is tucked safely in his wallet, he glared at the memory before casting it into the fire, watching it burn and turn into dust. From that night— he closed himself off from everyone nor did he ever catch a sight of her again. It was as if she had vanished into thin air or perhaps she moved to a new country. He stored away all of the memories they had with each other into the back of his mind, never wanting to relive it. Years had flew by and he not once got an answer or a hint as to why she had so readily rejected his proposal. He long accepted their fate and the love they once shared was nothing but a memory of the past. She was just a stranger he used to loved. As he makes his way towards the figure standing in front of him, he smiled and bent down, reenacting the bitter scene yet again. His new lover sobbed happily as she joyfully accepted his proposal. Her picture in his wallet as he slips the ring onto her dainty finger, noting her wide grin. Little did he knew— his past lover is observing the scene from afar, smiling sadly at the exchange. She sighed, knowing that she deserved to be hated for what she did as she walks away, wishing them nothing but the best for their future. Maybe someday, she can tell the tale of someone who was dear to her to her grandchildren and to never make the same mistake as she did.

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waywardfangirl · 4 years

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Both @captain-aralias and @palimpsessed did really nice posts to share their fics from this year as well as their thoughts on what they wrote, and I enjoyed reading their posts (and their fics!) so much that I thought I would take them up on their open invitation to do one too! I’m a big believer in keeping lists of your accomplishments to look at on days when self-doubt creeps in, so I encourage anyone else who might be interested to do this too! (All the questions are copied from @captain-aralias)

List of Completed Fics this year:

I wrote ten fics this year, as well as starting a ton of WIPs, which is amazing to me, considering I have only written fic once before in my life!

Slow - General, 3k

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore - Teen, 28k

Promises - General, 3k

A Privilege to Love You - Teen, 7k

Early Riser - General, >1k

Write This Down - General, 3k

As You Wish - Teen, 13k

The View from the Veranda - General, 4k

Down By The Sea - General, 2k

Just Want You to Know Who I Am - General, 1k (written in 2020, posted in 2021)

Total: 10 fics, 67k words, 100% Snowbaz

Pretty good for what is truly the first year that I have been an active participant in fandom!

Questions answered below the cut.

Best/worst title?

A Privilege to Love You is my favorite title, because I think the line is just so sweet, and it makes my heart melt.

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is definitely my worst title, because that was just the placeholder name I gave the WIP, but then I got so used to it I forgot to change it to something better before posting. I still cringe a bit at that one.

Best/worst summary?

l am horrifically indecisive, so I have a few summaries that I like. Just Want You To Know Who I Am is short and sweet, and I think it conveys exactly what I want it to:

Baz is fine. He's fine. Everything is fine. (It just isn't.)

~A fic about being loved in all the little ways~

But I also really liked the quotes I pulled for The View from the Veranda, As You Wish, and A Privilege to Love You.

Early Riser also has a summary that I let break my heart:

Baz wakes up early now, even though Simon doesn’t.

I does very little to convey what the fic is about, but after reading the fic it hurts like I wanted it to, sooo.....

I think that Promises has the worst summary though:

Inspired by the song "Promises" from the musical Hadestown.

Simon and Baz have spent the last three years working on themselves and on their relationship. Now it's time for their next step together.

Best/worst first line?

Baz says it best to open The View from the Veranda:

I am not a man accustomed to enduring want.

However, Simon deserves an honorable mention for starting us off right in As You Wish:

Baz is such a prick.

As for worst opening lines, I don’t really think I have any. I have some that stand better as an opening paragraph than an opening line, but I place a lot of importance on the first line of a story, so I like to make sure all mine are strong.

Best/worst last line?

I am not going to spoil any last lines for anyone (I cover up the last page of books when I read to reveal it slowly, word by word, so I take last lines seriously!), but I will say that As You Wish has an adorably predictable last line that I love.

For worst last line, I have to say Slow. I liked the line itself when I wrote it, but then I learned later that people were interpreting it in a more steamy way than what I had intended, and because I feel like Slow is such an innocent fic and really highlights how important it is for Simon to not be rushed into every decision he makes, I don’t like that it sounds like he and Baz rushed into something else. (I just meant that they talked and maybe kissed a bit! That’s it!)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

On December 31st, 2019, I was pet sitting when I came across a prompt for a Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement Snowbaz AU. I impulsively started to write, even though I had only written one other fic in my life (Check, Please!), and I had never written Snowbaz before. I kind of thought that maybe I would write one fic and that would be all, and that maybe one fic is all I would ever write, but I am so happy to have been wrong about that! I wrote way more than I could have predicted, and I even did NaNoWriMo! (I failed NaNoWriMo too, and I’m okay with that, because I want writing to be something I do for fun, not something that stresses me out.)

As a fun side note, Carry On is a fandom that I have returned to many times in my life, and it seems to have a special place on New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day for me. I was given Fangirl as a Christmas present, and started reading it on New Year’s Eve, only to finish it and realize that the new year had arrived while I was engrossed in the book. I have spent multiple New Year’s Eves since engrossed in a reread of the book, or reading fic, and so it feels really fitting that I got into properly writing fic for Carry On as the year turned over.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Literally all of this was unexpected, as I never planned on writing any more fic, but I think I am most surprised to have written multiple songfics. I never read many songfics, and didn’t often care for them, but I wrote Promises off of the song from Hadestown, Write This Down off of George Strait’s song, and then Just Want You to Know Who I Am because Caity got the Goo Goo Dolls stuck in my head.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

My favorite might actually be my most popular, so I’ll go with my close second favorites (it’s a tie)

A Privilege to Love You is a soulmate au, and those are my favorite things ever. I also received some of the best feedback on this one, and I feel like I did a lot of things that worked really well in this fic.

The View from the Veranda is just so wonderful for me though, it combines my love of history with absolute silliness for a friend (I love you Liz!!!), @krisrix did some INCREDIBLE art for it, and I just had so much fun writing it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

As You Wish was the most popular, hands down, with more hits, kudos, comments, and bookmarks than any other fic I wrote. It’s also the fic of mine that I reread the most, because it makes me so happy and I love all the silly moments.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is probably the answer here. This isn’t entirely backed up by metrics, since it does have more hits and kudos than some of my other fics, but for how long it is and the work that went into it, I think it only got a portion of the attention I was hoping it would. That’s mostly my fault though! It was the first fic I wrote for this fandom, and so I have definitely grown as a write since! Additionally, while I feel like it has a lot of great moments and fantastic lines, I have some lackluster bits too, and it really suffered from not having a beta (I was too shy to ask anyone back then). It’s also an AU of a movie that isn’t as widely viewed as I previously thought, so that didn’t help either, and as I already said, this fic could have a much better title.

All that aside though, the people who have read and talked to me about this fic have really seemed to like it, so I’m glad that I did right by my fellow Princess Diaries 2 fans! (and all of the wonderful people who read it and commented nice things having never seen the movie, y’all rock!)

Story that could have been better?

Everything I wrote before asking someone to beta. I just talked about what I would improve in We’re Not In Genovia Anymore, but Promises could use some work too. Having a few wonderful friends help me edit my fics has really improved what I post!

Sexiest story?

Oh gosh, I am not someone who writes sexy things.

Having said that, The View from the Veranda was written in the style of a bodice ripper, so I think that makes it the sexiest story by default. Kris’s art also enhances its sex appeal by at least 200% (I laughed out loud when I was making the list at the start of this post, because I had entirely forgotten that fic is rated G - honestly, that tells you everything you need to know about me, my romance novel fic can be read by children haha) (I might give it a T rating at some point, just because I feel like it should have that)

**I just remembered the bonus chapter for As You Wish.... that might be the sexiest thing I’ve written haha 🤣

Saddest story?

Early Riser - I am a big believer in giving everyone who deserves it a happy ending, but this one is just an interlude of sadness and depression without any resolution in sight.

(If you read it though, please know that in my head they do get therapy and things do get better! Snowbaz always has a happy ending in my fics, even if I don’t write it out fully)

Most fun?

As You Wish - this one to me feels like the happy chaos of running and sliding around a big house in stocking feet, and I don’t have a better way to describe it than that. There’s a tiny bit of angst from Baz, and a little bit of panic from Simon, but I was smiling and having so much fun while writing this fic, and I really think it comes across.

Story with single sweetest moment?

A Privilege to Love You - I’ll let you decide which of the many sweet moments is actually the sweetest ❤

Hardest story to write?

Promises, no question about it. I had written two fics by that point, and people had been so nice, and some of you lovely folks had even started tagging me in WIP Wednesday posts and in Six Sentence Sunday posts, but I felt like I had no inspiration left and I kept worrying that I wouldn’t be able to write again. So, I forced myself to write something, and it felt like pulling teeth (and it honestly wasn’t very good), but I gifted it to the person who had been my biggest cheerleader and who had tagged me a million times, and that’s how @foolofabookwyrm and I became friends. Writing the fic sucked, but her friendship is worth it, a million times over 💜💜💜

Easiest/most fun story to write?

The View from the Veranda. I’m a historian, and I work a lot with primary sources and spend time speaking with others in 18th century language, so once I got into my “work mindset” the words just flowed. This was also a silly, happy story for me, because I included a lot of jokes for Liz, and there are a ton of details that are just hilarious if you work at the same place I do (sorry that none of you do, but let me just tell you, the descriptions of Simon are all based off of my most attractive colleague, and at least 15% of this fic is silly quotes from work). I think this was only supposed to be about a thousand words long, and I messaged Kris multiple times while writing just to tell him that it was getting out of control and I couldn’t stop writing 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Writing for Agatha in We’re Not in Genovia Anymore really made realize how much some of her (canon) story resounded with me, and I liked the deeper character study I ended up doing for her. I’m still always going to be the most in love with Baz, but I have a deeper connection to Agatha now too.

Most overdue story?

It’s still overdue. I have so many WIPs, at least seven of which are soulmate AUs, and I just keep starting more. In terms of actual planned release date though? I started writing a The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue AU for NaNoWriMo, with the intention of publishing it in January. It’s already the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I don’t think I’m even a quarter of the way done with it. I wasn’t happy writing for NaNo, because I don’t do well with creativity on a deadline, and I chose to pause work on that fic so I can actually enjoy writing it and end up with something I like once I finally return to it. Apologies to those who are anxiously awaiting the fic, I do hope to finish it this year, and I won’t post until it’s all done, so you’ll get a very rapid update schedule when it does come out!

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I signed up for my first fandom event! I participated in the Secret Snowflake event, and wrote Down By The Sea for the wonderful @fight-surrender (and ended up with ideas for some other new fics too)! Even though I was actively failing NaNoWriMo when I signed up, I did manage to complete my fic on time, and I learned that it wasn’t quite as daunting as I was expecting it to be. (My biggest problem was my laptop breaking and having to do almost everything on my phone - I also learned once again just how amazing Liz is, as she helped me format and post to ao3, since I couldn’t do that properly without a computer)

I struggle with being creative on a deadline, but wanting to write a little over 1k in a month was much more achievable than feeling stressed about writing 50k in a month!

This year’s theme and the story that demonstrates it most:

I like the idea of the inevitability of love. I adore soulmate AUs, because I love the idea of a universe where not only does someone have a perfectly matched other person, but that there is a surefire way to find them. Even though I only published one soulmate AU this year, I feel like every time I write Snowbaz I am writing about a couple where love will, inevitably, win. In my mind they are always going to have a happy ending somewhere down the line where they are just purely in love. Even though love doesn’t magically fix everything, it’s still incredibly powerful, and I only want to create stories where Simon and Baz truly love each other.

Of course, with that as the theme, A Privilege to Love You has to be the fic that best demonstrates the idea of inevitable love - it’s a soulmate AU and a universe where Simon exercises his free will.

What are your fic writing goals for next year this year?

Finish and publish my Gentleman’s Guide AU

Finish and publish more soulmate AUs (I have so many WIPs you guys)

Plan more before writing

Work on improving dynamic scenes and the overall flow of my fics - I sometimes feel like I have too many lulls, and I want to write in a more engaging way

Promote my own work more! I am partially doing this post because there are multiple fics that I never shared on here! I plan to make banners for all of the fics I write this year, and to post them on tumblr at the same time I upload them to ao3.

The last few years have been a time of tremendous personal growth for me, and I really feel like I’m starting to understand who I am as a person, settle into myself, and like who I am. I’m thrilled to discover that fandom is still part of who I am and what I enjoy, and that I have more creative outlets in my life now than I ever expected to. My biggest goal is just to keep building on all of that, to use fic to explore who I am, to reflect what I like, make myself happy with my writing, and to hopefully make at least a few of you happy with my stories too!

#2020 fics #my writing #about me #year in review #fic masterpost #fanfic year in review #my fic #snowbaz #carry on

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tiesandtea · 4 years

Text

Mr. Lazy – fanzine interview with Alan Fisher, December 2004

intrepid suede globetrotters elina and sirje conducted this interview with alan fisher, the man about whom songs like "lazy", "high rising", "beautiful loser" and, according to the man himself, "the most of the others as well" have been written. (editor's note: not to suggest that alcohol played any part in this q&a session, but it did take place in alan's local. oh, and in other locations in the uk, plus morocco & finland, in both oral & written forms. anyway, surely worth all the so-called trouble.) no animals, be they cats or terrapins, were harmed during this interview, but a considerable amount of wine bottles did get destroyed.

how long have you known brett? where did you grow up?

i have known brett since i was 16/17 – near on 20 years now. i grew up in sussex, near haywards heath.

how does it feel that so many of brett’s lyrics are about you? (did you ever get the feeling that brett was just kind of observing you or waiting around for you to do something flamboyant so that he could write about it?)

it’s very flattering to know that some lyrics are about me. however i was never aware of brett observing me purposely to get lyrics or ideas for songs. it’s funny because there are so many songs that are very personal to me, and you think some part of the song is about you, and they are not. over the years many friends who have been in close contact with brett and the music think that songs are about them, because of various lyrical content. i think brett has ability to take elements from friends’ lives or chapters and create a story blended together, a fusion of characters in one song. i remember when i heard “the big time” and the last line – “now we’re in the big time and you’re in the way” i was extremely put out, i took it very personally. i thought it referred to me, but luckily it didn’t. however i’m pleased to say that my favourite song has to be “lazy”. the original version i think went like this – “here they come with their make up on as lovely as the birds come and see them” which i think is very beautiful. which changed to “here they come gone 7 am bla bla bla”, which was about being up all night, then putting on make up so as to hide the effects of being on a bender, and going down to off-license to buy cornflakes and bottles of red wine.

what was the best experience traveling with suede? (what happened in las vegas?)

difficult question, as i’ve had many amazing experiences on tour with suede. two very contrasting escapades were one journey in japan, and one on the west coast of america. brett and myself had the fortunate experience of visiting a buddhist temple in japan called the “moss gardens”. we visited a temple that was so beautiful and peaceful, and the entire gardens were immersed in moss with beautiful ponds and waterfalls. we sat in the temple and wrote a mantra admist buddhist chanting, which i believe influenced the song “introducing the band”. the other experience was a trip to la, san francisco and las vegas. i seem to remember i hadn’t been to bed for a few days, and when i was there i didn’t sleep much for various reasons. we stayed at a friend’s house in beverly hills called michiko, a house of pure opulence, with plenty of alcohol and other fineries. i seem to remember that towards the end (in vegas) brett wouldn’t let me sleep – just more alcohol. and i think that when i went to bed brett checked to make sure i was alive.

what will/do you miss the most about suede?

the thing i miss the most about suede is being around when a great song is created. i’d come home and brett would say “i’ve got it.”, some missing song on the album and consequently we would stay up night after night listening to the same song over and over – the poor neighbours.

at what part of his career was brett at his happiest?

when he was writing happy songs. actually i don’t think brett ever made happy songs. only joking! i don’t know when brett was actually the happiest. i think maybe when the band first started and the first album came out, that’s when he realised his dreams were coming true.

has brett being famous ever bothered you?

brett being famous has never bothered me; in fact it’s been quite a relief; it’s taken the limelight away from me.

fame can and has certainly changed many people who obtain it. how do you think it's affected brett over the years? has it affected your friendship?

i don’t think fame has changed brett’s fundamental characteristics, obviously it has shaped his life aspects like walking down the street, or having a drink in pub. i think living with me for so long has definitely fucked him up.

is there a lot of divergence between brett's public persona and the man underneath it all?

not really. he’s the same complex, passionate and artistic character at home and on stage, i don’t know about the bedroom though!!

how were the new band members really welcomed?

some dreadful, unmentionable initiation ceremonies.

was brett & bernard getting back together a surprise for you? how do you like the new material? how about brett’s solo material?

not really; they had a magic chemistry together that never really fulfilled its potential. and the new stuff is absolutely great! wait and see!!

what's all this about brett meditating? it was mentioned in the love & poison book.

i haven’t actually read love & poison, which is extremely lame of me, eventually i will. however, i think brett has some interest in meditating, maybe from visiting japan’s buddhist temples and being influenced by their way of living, zen and all that.

is brett good at pub quizzes?

brett, i could imagine, is very good at pub quizzes if he entered them. they have a quiz at our local pub, i think brett and mat osman entered once, and came a very admirable second place, which is no mean feat, because it’s a very professional affair in that establishment.

have there been times when brett did something you wish he hadn't? musical decisions or anything.

i can’t think of anything that resembles a mistake or regret in terms of musical direction. over the years, artists are faced with monumental decisions to make in terms of artistic development; single releases; band commitment and general themes for the forthcoming albums. however, i think brett has the ability to listen to other people’s opinions as well as his own, to come up with the best viable decision. considering the turbulent times of drug taking and various band members coming and going, i don’t think he’s done too badly.

how posh is brett?

how posh is brett – what a strange question – in fact the hardest one i’ve ever been asked! – not at all. crikey, well for somebody that came from a council house and bought second hand records/clothes. he now drinks tea at 4 o’clock in proper bone china tea cups – doesn’t get any posher than that. oh! and he has a butler called jessica rabbit.

does he watch sports on tv?

well it has to be football, brett hates posh sports like cricket & rugby (un)like me. he is very obsessive over the england football team, ipswich and manchester united (because that’s my team, and i always cry when they lose).

what's brett's best quality?

brett’s best quality is having good taste in friends and good taste in music, i.e., suede.

and his worst?

i can’t think of his worst qualities, but i remember the worst thing living with him, he would always become too comfortable on the sofa which would mean i would have to rewind the suede demos and go out and get another bottle of wine from the off-license.

we're sorry this is all about suede/brett... when we start an alan fanzine we’ll interview you about yourself... ok?

ok.

tell us a secret

my favourite colour is black.

how much do suede lie in the interviews? (if you read them)

i’m too busy to read suede interviews, i’ve got my own press cuttings to examine.

what do you think brett would have become without suede?

i’m sure it would have only been with some musical compaction. however, our living arrangements would have resembled something out of “the servant”.

what about you? how much has suede affected you?

suede were the most important thing in my life. as my girlfriend just put it a moment ago whilst i was writing this, it’s like going out with three people: her, me and suede. as i tell her, it could have been worse: i could have been friends with ronan keating.

do you love us? what do you think of suede fans in general? a lovely bunch on whole, or have you had some harrowing experiences with obsessed loonies?

well, i’m a suede fan myself, so i would have to say they are great. obsessed loonies? i am one; i have been stalking brett for 20 years, but he doesn’t realise.

there are lots of mentions of yours and brett's drug use in l&p. is this an accurate characterization of the state of affairs or did it get glammed up a bit for press?

it’s all a myth, i once smoked a joint with brett, it was really far out man! oh, and i snorted some glue at a dinner party once, it was so chic.

tell us something about suede that we don't know.

they are a figment of your imagination!!

tell us something about brett that we don't know.

i know something extremely juicy, real top gossip. but you’re going to have to wait to see whether he meets my blackmail demands.

if you were an animal, what kind of animal would he be? what kind of animal would brett be?

brett refers to me as an electrocuted rabbit, something similar to the mad hatter in alice in wonderland. i think brett would be a very feline cat.

speaking of cats, they tend to go missing, don’t they?

we had a cat called meisk – when brett was on tour it went missing. when i found it on the street, i thought it had a cold because it had a funny meow – it turned out to be the wrong cat. i remember brett was extremely pissed off. we had another cat called sphinx that was an incredibly lively character, it had a long run up – then produced its claws and wham!!

have you ever been arrested?

yes! on several occasions, on suspicion of being sinister and bad influence on society.

dave thompson’s yet-to-be-published suede-book, an armchair guide to suede, includes this:

"‘young men’ developed out of lyrics written for a joke band, the bruisers, that anderson, his flatmate alan and a hairdresser friend named gary hatched one evening;"

can you tell us anything more about this?

after one crazy night early in the morning we had this inspiration to form a band based on idea of national front skinheads with the title song “british bulldog”. brett and gary were both very amusing and inventive with songs like “santa ain’t a wanker” etc.

besides that, have you ever been musically inclined or in a band yourself?

after hearing brett playing an instrument called the melodica, something like a mouth organ with a pipe attached to it, waking me every morning, it put me off music for life.

what other music are you into besides suede?

sigue sigue sputnik and mozart.

have you and brett ever had a fist fight? have you ever fought over who does the shopping or cleans the toilet or whose dirty plates are in the sink?

we have never had a fist fight in 20 years. however, we once had a duel at sunrise over who was the vainest.

that’s it then. say something nice. or mean. whatever you like. thanks!

stop asking me questions about brett, and more about myself!

Source: Pornographic & Tragic, the official Suede fanzine, issue 2 (December 2004).

#suede #this is actually a great & fun read

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completeotometrash · 4 years

Text

Hanakaki (Yukimura angst)

TW: Includes death, blood, and one sided love. Has a sad ending, as well. (Ofc, it’s angst. Lmao)

She/her pronouns

On a side note: This is my first real attempt at writing angst, so I apologize if it’s not sad enough,,, (Although, I think it’s pretty mf sad.) I was thinking of making this a series including all of the warlords getting the fictional disease? I just find the concept really interesting, and, I would appreciate it a lot if you guys could take a moment to share your thoughts and comment whether or not if you’d like this as a series!

I wrote this on complete impulse instead of working on the negleted stuff in my askbox, YOLO-

Yes I just used “YOLO” in a sentence and it’s the year 2020, yikes.

For those of you who are unaware of the Hanakaki disease: It’s when a victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from a one sided love. Over time it becomes deadly, and suffocates the victim. There’s two ways you can overcome the disease, the first- of course, being when your love for the person is no longer one sided, as the second is a potential surgury; if you recieve it, as it may save your life, you can never feel love again.

....................

His chest grows tight, painfully tight.

Familiarly tight.

His throat burns with each swallow, as does each slow breath he tries to suppress. Everyone is laughing with joy at the table in which he sits. His eyes look around the room, scanning each of their expressions- a sad attempt to distract himself from the pain.

A pain that increases when his now blurry vision focuses on her.

She smiles, setting down her cup. She carries it with her own sort of grace, unlike anyone else in the room. Of course, her still in tact sobriety probably plays a part in this.

Actually, her sobriety had nothing to do with the way she moved. How she set the cup down was completely normal, it hit the table with a gentle clink. How can one even have grace when holding a simple wooden cup? Ridiculous.

In Yukimura’s eyes, everything she does has some sort of unique way to it. Not because he was drunk. Not because of the people around her. Yukimura is in love with her. Oh so desperately, smitten.

His hand grips onto the table, knuckles white from his insane grip. He stifles a cough, mouth full with a sticky, iron tasting, substance; his own blood. Quickly, and without a word, he leaves the room. His frenzied walk becomes a fast trot until he is outside.

Knees weak, they meet the soft dirt, and his shoulders begin to shake. His body becomes heavy as he coughs ferociously. Soon enough, between each desperate gasp for air, are the same florescent pink petals drenched in his blood. The thorns scratch his throat. He fears what they could do to his voice. Perhaps he would lose it, live the rest of his days mute.

At the end of the day, even a life mute as long as she is in his presence is a good one. The thought once again makes his now daily cycle repeat its self.

When he finishes, he wipes his mouth clean; ready to go back and pretend this never happened. He figured he will say he drank a little too much, and was feeling sick. Yes, that will work just fine.

Or at least he thought it would, until he turns around.

There she leans against the castle wall, arms crossed in an unformal- but of course, beautiful way. The bright moonlight shines just enough for him to make out the details in her distraught expression.

Yukimura’s eyes widen, and he wonders worriedly as to how much she just witnessed? What she would think of him, after looking so vulnerable and weak before her.

Before he can even say anything, she’s moving forward, her hand gently touching his cheek. He blushes, pulling away quickly as he coughs for the third time tonight. A new personal record.

She watches the stained petals fall to the ground, biting her lip. Yukimura continues to cough, but this time, the pain is more excruciating than before.

After his croaking, there’s silence. An awkward, long period of silence.

“How long have you had it?” He flinches at the sound of her voice. The happiest noise in the world for him now sounds so sad.

It’s challenging, but his dry lips manage to curve into a big smile. A fake one, that is so wide it travels to what he hopes are his convincing eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. We should be getting back.” He walks past her, legs screaming begging him for rest.

“Cut the shit, Yukimura.”

Once again, there’s silence.

He turns his head to look at her. She stands still before him, taking a mostly clean petal from the ground that he expelled only moments before.

“You have Hanakaki disease; and it’s clearly getting quite severe. How could you not tell me?”

He slowly inhales, looking at the ground in shame. He wished to tell her, he really did. As a matter of fact, he’s wanted to tell her everything about the matter. How she is the one he longs for, how his lungs and heart burn for her. But, when the disease is revolved around an unrequited love, what’s the point?

So he stays silent, hoping she’ll just forget about it for the time being.

“So, you don’t want to talk about it?” She gazes at him longingly, trying to read his face. She finds nothing. “Fine.”

MC takes his hand, dragging him to a nearby seat. Gently, she plops beside him with hoax gusto. “Then I suppose we’ll just have awkward small talk until you do. Allow me to think.”

Almost in a joking manner, she rests her hand on her chin, looking off in the distance. Moments later, her face lights up with excitement.

She’s so cute.

“This morning’s weather was terrible! The wind was so cold, I believe it gave me whiplash. What do you think?” He can tell she’s trying to sound casual, but her pitiful voice crack a the end makes her feelings obvious. His brow furrows as he dryly exhales.

“There was no point in telling you, Dummy. I’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry about it.” His voice is raspy still, desperately in need of hydration.

Her posture straightens as she stares at him, clearly irritated.

“Listen... Have you even talked to this person? Do they know what you’re going through?”

Yes-

“No.” A lie. One used to protect her from the pain he knows she’d feel if the truth was revealed. “Can we just stop talking about this and go? The guys are going to start getting suspicious, and I don’t want Shingen to get annoying because he has the wrong idea.”

She now looks down, closing her eyes sadly. He notices her hands clench the silk fabric of her kimono, fabric he bought her when they first met. Oh how unbelievably good the shade of red looks on her; his color.

“Alright. But please tell them soon, before it’s too late. You’re an amazing man, Yukimura, anyone would be extremely lucky to have you. I care for you too much to see you die.” With that, she stands, walking inside without looking back.

What did that mean?

His heart beats in his chest quickly, thinking of her last words.

“I care for you too much to see you die.“

Perhaps it was possible if she felt something for him. Interest beyond platonic? He ponders on, the new hope of living a long and happy life with her.

A chance to be with the woman he loves.

He gasps, blood dripping out of his nose and mouth now. There’s petals everywhere, suffocating him as his mouth fills with more and more. Yukimura’s airways are blocked.

No, I need to know if she can ever love me! This can’t be it!!!

He swallows some petals, immense pressure on his chest as he clutches it. His mind grows fuzzy- as he is unable to form any proper thoughts.

No...

He collapses to the ground yet again, and there’s a moment where his body finally relaxes, where he feels almost at peace. His hope is not strong enough to keep his heart beating.

I love you, MC. I really do... I’ll never forgive myself for not telling you that.

And with his final gasp for air, his mind is brought into a black abyss, and his body goes limp- death taking its turn.

#ikesen yukimura #yukimura sanada #ikemen sengoku #ikemensengoku #angst #hanakaki #hanakaki disease #death #possible series?#Yoo lmk please #YOLO #i need sleep wtf

19 notes · View notes

anistarrose · 5 years

Text

Fateful Detours - Ch. 3 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Memories are relived, conversations are had, and two journeys come to an end.

Warnings: flashbacks to Filbrick being an abusive father, non-graphic descriptions of pain/injury

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48205837

(The Beginning) (The Middle)

Here we are at the final chapter! This has been a very fun crossover to write, and this chapter is easily my favorite in the whole fic.

(Do note that the content warnings have gotten a little heavier for this chapter, but it’s no darker than the Gravity Falls canon.)

***

Stan wasn’t sure what to expect when he looked at the TV. The Cat had said it contained everything that made Ford Ford, so some part of his mind couldn’t help but imagine a swirling vortex of sketch-filled journals and science textbooks, of broken inventions and bitter parting words.

But instead, he found himself standing in a plain white hallway, staticked-out silhouettes flickering on every wall. Some were abstract, like random interference, but others felt more familiar, like compasses or bags of snack food. Or like a ship’s mast with two makeshift flags hung from it.

Stan checked his hand, and saw that his number was still there.

“Ford?” he called out. “Are you in here?”

Not only was there no response, but the sound of the static grew a little louder, as if trying to drown out his voice.

“Couldn’t be that easy, huh,” he muttered as he set off down the hallway. “I’ll just have to find him myself, then.”

At the end of the room was a wall of pure static, crackling and roaring incomprehensibly. But for a moment, Stan could swear he heard familiar voices conversing on the other side, and as they faded out, he put his ear up to the wall to listen more closely —

His hand ever so slightly brushed the surface, and it immediately collapsed under the pressure, its strange gravity dragging him through the ripples of static and into a bright, colorful scene. Stan’s head spun, and it took him a moment to get his bearings — but there Ford was, he realized, just down the stairs and in front of him with his back turned. Safe and sound, and rubbing his chin like he was conscious and alert.

Just as Stan was about to speak up, two hushed voices beat him to the punch. They came from a pair of familiar figures just a few feet in front of Ford…

It was Stan and Ford themselves, aged eleven, standing in front of their middle school lockers.

“C’mon, Sixer! No one will notice, I guarantee it!”

“But if we do get caught, they’ll give us failing grades for sure! It’s a big risk to take…”

Young Stan made pleading eyes. “Please? I’m going to fail math anyway if we don’t try something…”

“Alright,” young Ford agreed reluctantly, taking his glasses off and handing them over to Stanley. “I’ll take your math test.”

Stan suppressed a chuckle as he watched the younger version of his brother squint awkwardly as he adjusted to the lack of glasses, but the real Ford just shook his head with a sigh.

“Selfish as always,” he muttered, and the scene changed.

Stan and Ford, aged fifteen, stood outside the local movie theater. Both of them were sorting through their pockets for change, and neither was coming up with much of anything.

“I’ve only got enough for one ticket.”

“Same here.”

“And you want to waste it on some raunchy comedy we’d have to lie about our ages to even get into?”

“If the only other option is some over-the-top sci-fi flick, then yeah! I do!”

“Stan, I have been waiting the better part of three years for this movie! I’ve been theorizing about the plot for three years, and if you think I’m not going to see it opening night —”

Stan threw an arm over Ford’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be packed opening night, Ford. You really want to see the first screening, where all the other rabid fans are there and talking so loud that you can hardly hear the actors?”

Ford frowned. “I don’t know…”

“And what did we end up doing?” the real Ford asked, shaking his head. “Seeing his choice of movie! Because he only ever cared about himself, and I just went along with it!”

As Ford waved his hands in the air, Stan caught a glimpse of his number shooting up:

225

257

288

340

…

“I went along with it,” Ford repeated, “until…”

Their surroundings wavered, sidewalk morphing into carpet as street lights flickered and turned into familiar lamps from the Pines family household.

“No.” Ford shook his head. “Not this, not again…”

361

In a burst of static, the scene shifted once again, this time to a high school hallway.

“...Sixer? You okay?” Stan choked out.

Ford didn’t even look away from the memory.

Skipping class, getting caught sneaking out of the school, being sent to detention.

“He always just dragged me down,” Ford growled.

381

Working on the boat instead of studying for an upcoming chemistry exam.

“I should’ve cut him off a long time ago.”

415

Two science fair projects sitting side by side — one, a non-functional robot, the other, an invention that should’ve revolutionized the world.

“I always knew that I’d be better off without him.”

472

491

518

“So that’s really what you think about me,” Stan whispered. Ford gave no sign of having heard him.

He reached for Ford’s hand, but without even turning around, Ford swatted him away.

550

And Stan…

Stan had been prepared for Ford not to forgive him. Stan had been prepared to drag Ford out kicking and screaming.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear that Ford had never wanted him around in the first place.

“You know what?” he shouted. “FINE!!”

It wasn’t fine, no matter how loud he screamed that it was.

“You can be better off without me right here, in this fucked up horror movie television, for the rest of all eternity! See if I care!!”

Ford didn’t flinch.

“SEE IF I CARE!” Stan repeated, whirling around and storming off towards the edge of the memory.

He didn’t look at his hands, but if he had, he would’ve seen his number jumping up:

106

160

195

He didn’t look back at Ford either, but if he had, he would’ve seen that Ford’s number was no longer visible, because his hands and arms had become obscured by a shifting pattern of static.

“I never needed him,” Ford mumbled, his voice crackling with interference. “I never needed anyone.”

Everything was white, and everything was blurry. It was white because Stan had at some point, without realizing it, made his way back to that first empty hallway he’d found himself in, and it was blurry because he had long since given up on trying not to sob.

He knew, instinctively, that from this room he could leave whenever he wanted simply by willing it to happen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He may have been a liar through and through, sometimes out of selfishness and sometimes out of necessity, but he’d told the Cat the truth. If he left Ford here, he’d never forgive himself.

He slumped to the ground, pulling his knees close to his chest. Years ago, his mother had told him that dwelling on an issue would always be more painful, in the long run, than any choice you could make to try and change the situation — and after he’d gotten kicked out, he’d tried his best to take that advice to heart, and focus on things he could do to turn his life around.

But now, he wasn’t so sure her advice rang true. He only had two choices — trying to find Ford again and save him, or abandoning him for good, and he knew both of them would just hurt him more than he could ever possibly bear.

Everything hurt. Every happy memory he’d once desperately longed to relive just hurt now, corrupted by the knowledge that Ford had never really been happy in them. That Ford had never truly wanted him around.

Even back during the happiest summer of their lives, when they’d discovered —

Stan covered his ears as a burst of static rang through the room like a clap of thunder. Still sitting on the ground, he turned to face the wall he’d previously had his back to…

And there it was again — the silhouette of a ship’s mast that he’d glimpsed on the way in, two children’s t-shirts flying from it like flags. But this time, the whole ship below it was visible too, bobbing up and down as choppy waves of static battered its hull.

Stan outstretched a hand towards it, his number obscured beneath his palm, and a blast of salty ocean air struck him in the face as the world exploded into color.

He stood on the bow of the Stan O’ War — the completely repaired, seaworthy Stan O’ War, its deck polished and cabin furnished — and faced a tropical coastline, dotted with emerald palm trees and surrounded by vivid pink coral reefs. A colossal volcano rose above the horizon, with a plume of smoke and ash lazily drifting away from the crater at the top, and beneath the crystal-clear waves Stan could spot a pair of sea turtles following the ship, keeping their distance but eyeing it curiously.

Which was all very confusing, because Stan couldn’t remember visiting a place like this and was fairly certain Ford hadn’t either…

The moment that thought popped into his head, his surrounding began to change. Colors grew less vivid, his depth perception failed him, and shadows vanished altogether as the scene reverted to a cartoonish state, complete with dialogue bubbles and sound-effects written out in familiar handwriting.

Stan stood in the pages of a comic book he’d drawn eight long years ago, currently held by the memory of a ten-year-old Ford.

“You really think we’ll get to go on adventures like this one day?” Ford asked, but he didn’t sound skeptical. If anything, he sounded wistful, like he wanted to believe it.

The young Stan from the memory watched with a satisfied smile as Ford flipped through the comic. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

The scene shifted, and Stan found himself kneeling on the beach, watching his younger self hammer nails into a plank on the boat while Ford held it in place. Both of them looked sweaty and exhausted, yet also… so, so happy.

“Wherever we go,” the young Ford declared like a mantra, “we go together.”

From somewhere not quite within the memory, Stan heard the sound of a distorted gasp.

Kneeling on the opposite side of their younger selves and watching them intently was the real Ford — except now, only his face was visible, while the rest of his body was awash with static. The pattern flickered erratically, branched and jagged patterns of lightning bolts crackling within it, but Ford seemed oblivious to everything except the events playing out in the memory in front of him.

“We were both so happy,” he whispered, eyes flickering between the two younger twins as they pressed their hands together in a high-six. “What changed?”

“Stanford, we — we’ve gotta get you out of here,” Stan choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, but it —”

Ford’s head snapped up to look at Stan, to really look at him for the first time since they’d entered his memories, with a incredulity in his eyes that suggested he was only just now realizing that the real Stan was in there with him.

“This isn’t right,” Ford mumbled — and initially, Stan flinched, assuming the words were directed at him. But a moment later, the speed of the memory accelerated to a dizzying blur, fast-forwarding to more scenes familiar to both twins.

Stan going to Ford’s gym class while Ford took his math test, and coming home with a black eye but also a smile on his face, because he’d given a couple of Ford’s bullies the kicks in the shins that they’d deserved.

Stan and Ford staying in the theater after watching Stan’s choice of comedy flick, and sneaking into the second showing of the sci-fi movie Ford had been anticipating for so long. Dodging the worst of the crowds, and having a great time in both with the theaters practically all to themselves.

Making the most of detention together, passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

With each memory, the static covering Ford receded further, first leaving his hair and then his shoulders and arms. He stared down at his hand, waiting for it too to become clear again and reveal the number on his palm —

Just as the receding line of static reached his wrist, the scene shifted one more time. They stood in a familiar living room, lit only by the pale blue light of a television…

“The argument,” Ford whispered.

Stan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as the static shot back up to Ford’s shoulders.

In the memory, Ford stormed into the room, waving a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts in the air as he stared daggers at Stan. “Can you explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!”

And Stan sneered back at him, throwing his paddleball to the ground where it snapped in two. “College dreams are ruined, huh? Guess you’ve got no choice but to go sailing now!”

The TV behind Ford exploded, glass shattering as bolts of blue electricity arced from wall to wall. The whole room trembled as sparks and smoke filled the air, and both the Ford from the memory and the Ford cloaked in static stumbled as they tried to step away from the searing rays of plasma —

“Sixer!” Stan grabbed Ford’s hand, and a jolt of electricity ran up his arm, sending black and white pixels flickering across his vision. “Ford, are you the one doing this?!”

Ford hung limp in the air, suspended in place where Stan had caught him halfway through a fall. The spot where their hands met burned like nothing Stan had ever felt before, like the static was trying to creep up his own veins and into his own body, to unmake him and rewrite him and embitter him from the inside out — but all Stan could bring himself to do was tighten his grip, as he watched a crack snake through the floor beneath Ford’s feet.

“You’ve got to stop this, Ford! This isn’t what happened!”

The whole room shuddered as the crack split open, revealing a massive chasm of static with no bottom in sight. Ford staggered backwards, the ground beneath him crumbling as more and more glowing white cracks zigzagged through it — but before he could topple backwards and fall, Stan used his free hand to grab him by the collar of his staticked-out shirt.

It felt less like he was grabbing something material and more like he was sticking his hand in a fire, but he still pulled Ford closer, until he could wrap an arm around Ford’s back.

“And what really happened wasn’t great, either — it was awful — but I never wanted it to happen, I swear! I’m so sorry, Ford — I never wanted to ruin your dreams, and I don’t want to lose you in here, either! These aren’t your real memories, and — and I know how lying to yourself feels like it’ll hurt less, but in the long run, it… it doesn’t. I promise!”

His arms went numb, and his vision began to fade as something wet sizzled and evaporated on his cheek.

“And if you still want to be mad at me, I — I can’t blame you. But be mad at me for what I really did! Be mad at me when you’re safe at home, or at college, or wherever you end up in life — not in here! Please, Ford, let me help you get out of this place…”

He heard a voice, close to his ear but garbled by static.

“Ford? You with me?”

Ford tried again, and though it was quieter this time, it came out comprehensible.

“Was it me who changed?”

“Ford, we… we both fucked up. I should’ve just told you about breaking the machine as soon as it happened — then you might’ve been able to fix it…”

The burning feeling began to subside, and the crumbling living room reassembled itself as the scene playing out inside started over.

“I might’ve accidentally been… horsing around…”

“This was no accident, Stan! You did this!”

“I still should’ve believed you,” Ford mumbled, stepping back from Stan as he stared at the memory. The static dropped below his collar, then below his shoulders.

“Maybe there's a silver lining, huh? Treasure hunting?”

“Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future?!”

“And I shouldn’t have brought up the boat like that!” Stan told him. “I shouldn’t have joked about it! I didn’t realize how — how important that school on the other side of the country was to you, but now I do…”

Both twins flinched as they watched Filbrick enter the memory, grabbing Stan by his shirt.

“I should’ve stood up to Dad!” Ford went on, his head in his hands. “I never should’ve let him kick you out —”

“You know you wouldn’t have been able to change his mind.” Stan stared at the ground. “I should’ve known that, instead of blaming you for not taking my side…”

“I never wanted to cut ties with you, Stan.” The static receded even further as Ford spoke, dropping down to the level of his belt. “Not when I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, and not even after the argument — but when Dad threw you out, I convinced myself that I never wanted to see you again. That you’d always just been dragging me down — because it was easier to believe that.”

He took a deep breath. “Being angry at someone you hate… it’s so much easier than being angry at someone you love, even if you really do love that person. Without that contradiction making you second-guess every feeling you have, it’s so much simpler, so much easier to bear…”

The scene flickered, changing to a memory that Stan had never seen before. It was from after he’d gotten kicked out, he realized.

Ford sat on the stairs of Pines Pawns, slouching and glowering at the floor as he listened to Filbrick and Caryn arguing.

“He’s seventeen! Teenagers ruin things, it’s what they do! You didn’t have to ruin his whole life to punish him!” Caryn shouted.

“That freeloader has been ruining the smart one for years!” Filbrick shot back. “Done nothing but drag his brother down their whole lives, and it’s about time we cut him off!”

He whirled around, and noticed Ford watching them. “Right, Stanford? Weren’t you tired of going along with every harebrained scheme that popped into his head? Of doing all his math homework? Of humoring him, when he said he wanted to sail around the world? Wasn’t it suffocating?!”

Ford didn’t say anything, but he gave a half-hearted nod before trudging back up to his room.

Outside of the memory, the real Ford spoke up. “No, Dad. It wasn’t.”

As the last few pixels of static covering his feet disappeared, he turned to Stan and outstretched his arms for a embrace. “I missed you, Stanley.”

Stan accepted the hug without a second thought. “I missed you too, Sixer,” he whispered.

Waves of static washed over the room for one last time, and when they subsided, Stan was once again kneeling on the floor of the Cat’s car. The Cat herself still stood on the other end of the room, hissing quietly when she noticed Stan awaken.

“Ford, are you okay?” Stan stood up and turned around, and to his relief, Ford was sitting up straight — and staring at his hand, as it shone a brighter green than it ever had before.

And so was Stan’s hand, as it whirled through number after number far too quickly to read. For the first time, it felt warm — not warm like the burn from the static, but warm like hot chocolate and lazy summers and companionship, warm in a way Stan hadn’t felt in months.

0Two beams of light shot up from Stan and Ford’s hands in unison, and on each side of the room, one half of a door appeared, outlined in green and slowly sliding together. When they met, a familiar golden vortex appeared and two columns of light sprouted from it, coiling around each other like a double helix as they stretched upwards and out of the train.

And visible inside the door, clear as day, was the Stan O’ War — right where they’d left it, filthy from months of neglect but still salvageable. Still not that far from seaworthy, in the grand scheme of things.

“Oh,” Ford mumbled. “Of course. That’s really far more simple than anything I theorized about the numbers…”

He turned to Stan. “Are… are you ready to leave?”

Stan gave him a thumbs up. “Wherever we go, we go together.”

As he followed Ford towards the exit, he turned around one last time. “Hey, Cat? We won’t miss you.”

Ford didn’t bother to turn around, but he did wave a double middle finger in the Cat’s direction, which Stan chuckled at. The two of them stood side by side at the door for a moment, both in the awkward position of waiting for the other to go first.

Then Ford smiled. “High six?” he asked, raising his palm with the zero on it.

“High six,” Stan agreed, and they stepped though the portal with their hands pressed together.

***

“You know, this is a little ironic,” Ford commented shortly after removing himself from the sand dune he’d faceplanted in. “Just before the exit showed up, I was thinking about how I was actually looking to exploring more of the train, since I’d have you by my side.”

“Oh, good. We both remember it,” Stan replied, spitting out sand. “I was always kind of wondering in the back of my mind if it was a hallucination. Also, that’s the sappiest thing I’ve heard all day, and I said some really sappy stuff back there.”

Ford ignored the second half of his remark. “Well, even if our memories failed us, we’ve also got physical proof backing up the experience…”

He pulled out the device he’d stolen from the Cat, which was still glowing and reacting to both their voices and the ambient sounds of the beach. “I need to thank you for that time you tried to teach me to pickpocket, by the way. The train had a lot of advanced technology that I want to try and replicate, and it’s going to be a lot easier with an actual example to take apart.”

“Oh shit, you stole something? Ford, I have never been a prouder brother in my life.”

Ford chuckled. “It might be a tad unethical, but after some basic study I could probably claim to have ‘invented’ this, and use the funds from selling the patent to afford the tuition to a nicer college than Backupsmore. I do still want to spend some years studying and working on a higher education, but… I hope you’ll keep in touch when I do. It’ll be a lot less fun without you around.”

He rested a hand on the Stan O’ War. “And in the meantime, while I work on reverse engineering this technology… I think there’ll definitely be some time for some boat repair and treasure hunting.”

“Poindexter, your hand is in seagull shit. Better add ‘boat cleaning’ to that list.”

“Ugh, you’re right. At least it’s dry.” Ford carefully moved his hand to a less dirty spot on the boat. “So, that’s a yes to the treasure hunting?”

“Oh, you know it.”

***

Afterword:

Using the sensor stolen from the Cat, Ford invents a new type of sonar that’s significantly more effective than the current versions. With that technology, the boys track down a bunch of shipwrecks, and start getting famous for their discoveries and “invention.”

When Filbrick hears about this and realizes that his sons are on a track to fame and fortune and not sharing any of it with him, he’s initially furious but then tries to approach them and ask them to let him back into their lives, which they refuse. (Caryn divorces him soon after, and Shermie cuts ties around the same time. None of them ever send him money.)

Thanks to his work, Ford wins a scholarship to a well-respected university — it’s not quite West Coast Tech, but it’s also a lot nicer than Backupsmore. He opts not to take classes in summer even though they’d help him graduate faster, and spends all his breaks sailing with Stan.

Stan does get a little bored during the school year when Ford is busy, but Ford notices and suggests he start drawing comics again. Stan is hesitant and a little insecure at first but eventually starts honing his art more and brainstorming plotlines with occasional input from Ford. Using some connections he made in treasure hunting press interviews, he eventually gets a deal to have a short comic series published — then it turns into a huge success, and his comics (loosely based of his and Ford’s childhood) get picked up for many more issues.

Somewhere along the line they become friends with Fidds, probably thanks to some inter-school technology fair where he and Ford both competed, and eventually the gang heads to Oregon to investigate the anomalies concentrated in a town called Gravity Falls. Bill shows up at some point and tries to pull some characteristically Bill bullshit, but he’s no match for a pair of twins that have actually developed some half-decent communication skills. Many more years down the line, Dipper and Mabel’s childhood is full of visits from their famous scientist/explorer/artist grunkles.

***

Thank you for joining me on this crazy train ride! All your responses have meant a lot to me, and I know I’ll look back on this experience fondly (even if it was a lot shorter than my multichapter fics tend to be).

#gravity falls #infinity train #stanley pines #stanford pines #filbrick pines #caryn pines #infinity train cat #fic: fateful detours #rosalia writes fic #infinity train spoilers

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midnightsnyx · 5 years

Text

The Trouble With Faking It - Chapter 17

the trouble with faking it masterpost

my masterlist

*note: I know very little about adoption and the process - I know that it can take years but for the sake of this story, things moved quickly and I skipped over all the detailed stuff and jumped into July!*

also, i know its been a minute but between work, a broken laptop & writers block i didn’t get any writing done.

hope you like it!

Chapter 17: don’t give up on me

“she needed a hero - so that’s what she became.”

July 20th

Something I have come to understand is that life is unpredictable and planning anything is a waste of time because it’s not going to go the way you want it to. When I decided to look into adopting Clara, I thought it would be a long grueling process but somehow it only took a couple months for me to be able to have her stay with me. There is still paperwork and a few thing to work out but for the past few weeks, Clara and I have been staying at Tyler’s.

And it has been Hell.

I babysat kids from the time I was old enough until I no longer needed the extra cash but it turns out that having you own kid, and not being able to pull the “if you do not behave, I’ll tell your parents” card, it made things very difficult.

Because I was the parent. She listened to Tyler most of the time, but there was something about me that made her think she didn’t have to listen to anything I said.

“You know, you’re not my mom. Even if you gave birth to me.” Clara snaps one night after I tell her it’s bedtime.

It’s a constant cycle every day when I tell her it’s time to do something like go to bed, or get ready for the day and she pulls the same card. You’re not my mom, or why do you think you can tell me what to do. It’s like arguing with a toddler.

I sigh and open my mouth to say something, anything, to try and calm her down but as usual, Tyler beats me to it.

“Why don’t you pick out a book and we can read it together, kiddo?” He offers and she looks like she’s going to fight him on it but nods instead.

I watch her turn around and walk towards her room. When she’s out of sight, I look at Tyler who’s frowning.

“You’ve just got to give her some time, babe.”

“She hates me, Tyler. Time isn’t going to fix that.”

He sighs. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Easy for you to say! She thinks you walk on water!” I snap.

“Daisy, you left her-”

I open my mouth to object but he cuts me off.

“You left her, because it was the right thing to do. You know that, I know that, and someday, she will understand. But you can’t force her to accept that until she’s ready to.”

I take a minute to let his words sink in and sigh when I realize he’s right.

“Have you been reading child rearing books?” I ask him and he smiles.

“Guilty.”

Both our heads turn when we hear Clara yell out to Tyler from the top of the stairs.

“Tyler! I chose a book! Can Cash and Marshall come read with us too?”

I smile at Tyler when he looks at me but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. He offers me what seems like a reassuring look and heads towards the stairs. I hear Clara babbling to him about the story she chose which is about a princess who has to rescue a prince and I realize it’s one of the books my father gave me when I was Clara’s age.

I haven’t heard the story in ages so I creep upstairs and stand outside Clara’s room to hear her read it.

“Why does this say ‘to Daisy, love dad’?” Clara asks Tyler. “Did this book belong to my mom?”

Tyler’s voice cracks the slightest when he answers her and I don’t know if it’s because she just called me mom or because he’s thinking about my dad now. “Yeah, he gave it to her when she was around your age I think.”

“Where is he now? Why haven’t I met him?”

Tyler doesn’t reply right away because I know he’s struggling whether this is his place to tell her but when she prompts him again, he sighs.

“He went away. But I’m sure he would have liked you.”

She quiet for a moment. “You mean he died. When people say somebody went away, they mean that the person died.”

“Yeah,” Tyler tells her. “He died.”

“Is that why she’s always so sad?” Clara whispers so quietly I almost don’t catch it.

“What do you mean?” Tyler asks, sounding confused and I don’t blame him. Why does she think I’m sad?

“Never mind.” Clara says quickly and he doesn’t push her because what we’ve both learned, when we push Clara to share how she’s feeling, she retreats into a corner and we end up back at square one.

When I hear Clara start to read the book, I slide down on the floor and listen to them read the story my father read to me so many times growing up. He would tell me that I should always be my own hero and to never let somebody else stand in the way when I set my heart to something.

It reminds me again how little I really knew about my father. I had always painted him out to be this big monster in my story. The big bad man who tore my family to pieces and left me to clean up the mess but deep down he was a tortured man who was battling demons that none of us will ever understand and I don’t think I want to.

Tyler finds me sitting outside on the porch swing a little later. He points at the piece of paper I’m holding.

“My dad’s letter.” I say quietly and Tyler only nods in understanding, sitting next to me.

I re-read it a couple times before folding it up and stuffing it in my sweater pocket.

“Every time I think I understand why he did it, I realize how wrong I am.” I whisper. “At first, I thought he did it because he wasn’t happy with how things were going. Then I thought he did it out of guilt. This time I think he did it because he thought things would be better for us.” I shake my head and look at Tyler. “What kind of father does that?”

“I don’t know.” He says softly. “We’ll never know but it’s just something you have to learn to live with.”

“Yeah.” I whisper. “I guess so.”

July 24th

“I’d like to come meet her.” My mom says.

“I want you to meet her too, I just don’t think it’s a good time.” I tell her. Who knows what kind of reaction Clara would have?

“She’s been staying with you for a month now.”

A month from Hell.

“I know, I just need more time. Okay?”

I can tell she’s not pleased by my answer but she respects it. We chat a little longer before she has to go. With promises to invite her to visit soon or bring Clara to Montreal (very unlikely), I say bye and end the call.

I don’t notice Clara until she speaks.

“Who was that?” She asks quietly and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Her face turns red when she sees that she startled me but doesn’t leave. I consider it a win.

“It was my mom.” I tell her, watching as she takes a few steps towards the couch. She gauging my reaction when she curls up next to Cash, purposely emphasizing when he feet touch the cushions and I get the feeling she wasn’t allowed to do it at her previous foster homes.

I make sure to have no reaction and she seems satisfied.

“What were you talking to her about?” She questions.

“She was telling me how everybody else is doing and catching me up on what’s new.”

“Who?”

“My grandparents and brothers.”

She purses her lips like she is trying to decide whether to continue this conversation. When she speaks again, I hide a smile because this is probably the longest conversation we’ve had without her getting mad and storming off.

“Will I meet them?”

I’m surprised by her question. “If you want to, sure.”

She nods like this is a good enough answer. When the front door opens, I turn to look, expecting it to be Tyler but I’m surprised to see Jackie.

I quickly stand up and walk towards her, accepting a hug from her and preparing myself for the reaction we might get from Clara.

“How are you doing, honey?” Jackie asks me, making her way towards the kitchen still not noticing Clara sitting on the couch. All the dogs but Cash have run towards her begging for attention.

“Not bad.” I tell her, risking a glance at Clara who’s staring at Jackie wide-eyed and surprised. “I didn’t know you were visiting.” I say, trying not to sound rude since this isn’t even my house.

“Well, you know how busy I have been and it’s been awhile since Tyler has visited so - oh.” She stops mid-sentence, finally noticing Clara sitting on the couch. It takes her a minute before it clicks in who she is. “Oh.”

“This is Clara.” I tell her, looking at the little girl from the corner of my eye who looks ready to bolt.

Jackie’s eyes dart to mine and she nods in understanding when I shake my head slightly. She stays where she is and sends Clara a small smile.

“I’m Jackie.” She tells Clara softly and before Clara can answer, the front door opens again and I hear Tyler before I see him.

“Babe, who’s rental is that? Please tell me it’s not my mom, I told you to give me a heads up before - oh.”

He cringes when he sees Jackie and I feel no sympathy for him. This is going to be great.

I prepare to listen to Jackie yell at Tyler but before she can, Clara hops off the couch and runs to Tyler.

“Tyler!”

He catches her before she runs into him. “Hey kiddo.”

“Who’s the lady?” She whispers quietly but I can hear her.

“She’s my mom.” He says and Clara’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh.”

I grin, “Anyone want lemonade?”

I’m sitting on the edge of the pool with my feet in the water when Clara sits next to me.

“Tyler is in trouble.” She snickers, sitting next to me.

“He is, huh?”

She looks at me curiously. “Is Jackie nice?”

I smile. “The nicest.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

She’s quiet for a couple minutes, splashing her feet in the water. Some of it flicks up on me but I don’t complain because this is the happiest I’ve seen her since she came here.

“Can we go to the movies tomorrow?” She asks hesitantly and I try not to think about how long it’s taken her to work up the courage to ask me.

But I don’t hesitate to answer. “Of course. Do you have a movie in mind?” I ask and her face lights up.

Later that night after everybody is gone to bed, Tyler and I lay on the grass outside. It’s quiet and we haven’t spoken in almost fifteen minutes when he breaks the silence.

“What do you think would happen if we never met?”

I laugh softly but shrug. “My life would probably have been a little less complicated.”

Tyler laughs but I can tell he’s a little hurt so I nudge him until he looks at me.

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#tyler seguin imagines #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #the trouble with faking it #my imagines #dallas stars fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

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rqs902 · 5 years

Text

qcyn ep 11 -- can you believe the finale is tomorrow?!?

this whole texting section was so funnyyyy and i will honorably mention yet again that yao chi texting mc jin in english is so sweet

li ronghao torturing xu longhan iS HIALRIOSUS

but i also pity the poor child LOOL

wait can we talk about chen tao’s spelling timao LOL

and chen sijian’s face LOLLL

omg yao mingming’s message is so aww... he mentions liking yixing since he debuted in 2012.......

omgggg fjj and wang yi theyre all so cute and screamy and i loveee

WAIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT LIN MO AND WANG YI’S HAPPY DANCE

oh gosh the8 is really showing us how hard seventeen works to get their choreo super in sync wow they really must work so hard.... wow minghao giving up the center position bc he knows how important this is to these kids... he deserves more recognition as a great mentor wow

oh my goodness.......... li zhenning’s voice shaking as he says to shi mingze “if you can get into top 20, then you’ll have hope” is.... the most heartbreaking......... knowing that shi mingze doesnt.......... they literally were smiling as they went off into this corner to talk and are crying by the time they come out..... can you just imagine how much sadness and stress is constantly looming over these kids’ heads and tearing down at their mental health?? its all hidden and suppressed, but with really fragile borders, so as soon as you pick at the walls, their raw emotions come bursting through...

this just reminds me that even tho shi mingze is their cool, handsome leader, hes still the youngest in bg project............

can we please talk about how considerate of a friend li zhenning is and has been??

and this all took place before zhenning ever ranked into top 9.... so to them, this opportunity wouldve been really important for zhenning too, bc maybe he wouldve really needed it to get into top 9. but at least we know now.... he has enough popularity that they made the correct choice and hopefully more people will notice shi mingze as a result

ZHAN YU’S ARMSSSSSSSSS bo yuan’s hair!! i really like it!!!! wen yechen in pink!!!!!! his voice is so addicting i just wanna hear more of it... it dont matter that zhenning isnt center, he still shines :)) wait wu zelin’s voice i really liked it in retreat and we get even more vocal-like wu zelin here! thats a realy nice purple on qunfeng, hes really rocking this look SHI MINGZE I SAW THAT WINK frick minghao’s dancing is just so satisfying to watch wowow

man he looks so good

wow i live for random zhan yu reactions (imma just collect them here LOL)

after journey and mc jin’s friendship is so cute hahahaha

ok i see why elle thinks chen tao is a visual

wang zhe and wu chengze have both really improved in their stage presence throughout the course of this show aw deng chaoyuan looks the happiest we’ve ever seen him on stage haha zhou shiyuan’s voice is really so cool

i guess we’ll never find out why gu landi is in mc jin’s group..... is it bc yao chi is here? im sorry i love this song and i love a lot of the kids in this group but can you just imagine how much better this stage would’ve been if it were with more kids who had experience rapping....? last year’s “zero” stage just made such a bigger impression on me...... this is actually really such a contrast im---

ALKSJDLAKSJDLK CHEN SIJIAN’S RAPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE JUST DID THATT!!!!!!!!!! DID YOU SEE THAT!??!?!1//!ASDLKJALSKJJ OMGGOHS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!! CHEN SIJIAN JUST BLEW EVERYOEN OUT OF THE WATER YOU BEST BET HE DID WOWOW HE JSUT I CANT BELEIEVE HE JSUT INCLUDED AT LEAST 4 NAMES WOW

IM WEN YECHEN

chen sijian is really the best at writing raps about his bros wow and like also he has the most creative lyrics i really appreciate wow such talent hes amazing!!!

a lost baby..

UNDERAPPRECIATED GU LANDI VISUALS

the face of a legend

ever since i saw the “time” ballad version, ive had a sneaking suspicion that lin yuzhi is secretly one of the strongest vocalists on this show..... this is the face of talent

idk whose outfit is distracting me more, xu bingchao or xixi’s LOL shao haofan looks so nice here wow and ding feijun is so adorable even tho this is a more mature concept but i still cant see him as anything but a cute child

maybe its the way they cut up the lines but idk this song didnt really show off their vocal abilities that well..... sorry xixi :( i think xixi’s voice deserved better time to shine on this show...... his and feng junjie’s voices are actually both so nice i was so impressed when i saw them singing in the oaca clips

this koala ad makes me very uncomfortable......

wenhan reaches into the box and pulls out..... costco brand blueberries??!?!?/1 hHhahahhahHAHAHHA

lol yao chi being so sentimental... oh look at this photo of me with bubbles on my face (me: oh no here it come--) OH YEA ALSO CHECK OUT THIS FACE WASH!

wow kou cong!! a face i havent seen in a while aw! i cant believe they filmed all the yaa eps while they all still had colorful hair lol i guess ill never get to see lin mo on yaa /sigh/ or actually any of the tyger members cept jia yi.........

HAHAHAHAHHA YESSSSSSSSS THEY INCLUDED A CLIP OF CHEN SIJIAN’S PHONE CALL !!!! HIS WAS HILARIOUSS!!!! HAHAHAHA I LOVED HOW SIMILAR HIS FAN SEEMED TO BE TO HIM HAHAH

AAHH AS SOON AS IT GETS TO LIN MO’S ITS THE SAD MUSIC TIME

his was the most heartwarming call.... no bias LOL

feng junjie singing “the great artist” just---

this boy will never stop with the meme faces hHAHAHA

im surprised this section was so short lol i was expecting them to spend more time on this group...

SUN ZELIN SUN ZELIN SUN ZELIN YEA

jolin’s eyes are so wow

feng junjie with the voice!!!!!!1

JOLIN THE QUEEN

still kinda wish jia yi had more opportunity to sing on this show......... hes like second main vocalist to zhan yu in tyger but i feel like he hasnt gotten to show his voice much :( he did really well tho!!! he really has impressive stage presence

omg lin mo’s super shy “1 day” ahhhhh

omg wang jiayi looks like hes about to cry... the poor child....

yixing reaching out to apologize to them.... hes really so caring towards them...... wang jiayi just needs more confidence!! i believe in him too

where did lin mo get this white cap from? lol he chose the pink one..... on a related note, im so happy lin mo got to be in yixing’s group, bc from the beginning with namanana hes really really tried so hard to earn yixing’s recognition, im sure it means a lot to him to be able to learn from him like this and share a stage with him

yao mingming too, i feel like he really values yixing’s recognition as well

i think all the kids in this group had to have known that picking yixing’s group would be the most tiring and require the most effort, but i think choosing this group regardless just really shows they came here to learn

A HAPPY BABYYY

omg like yixing is really /teaching/ them and i appreciate that

lin mo and xu fangzhou’s voices!!!!!!

OOF IM SO READY FOR THIS OUTFIT

ASLDKALSDKJLAK HE WINKED!!!!!!!!!!!

what is this awkward closeup

why does fangzhou have wings lol

i feel like theres a lot of random awkward closeups of lin mo.... should i be happy about this??? LOL i dont think theyre all very flattering but at the same time at least hes got closeups....???? ? ??

OOF HES GETTING MORE LINES THAN I EXPECTED TOO

you know how ive talked about how i love how much detail lin mo puts into his dancing, including even his slight head tilts? LOOK ANOTHER HEAD TILT

HAHAHAHHAHA GUAN YUE’S EYES GOT SO BIG HAHAHHAHA OMGGG

ooof lin mo getting to sing the chorus with yixing im !!!!!! im sure hes so grateful for this opportunity wow also i think i mentioned this with namanana but i really think lin mo suits yixing’s dance style, like its a style that hes pulls off really well, so i think he got to shine a bit in this performance :’)

ok i havent said this yet but what is with that thick black fade at the top of the screen its so annoying??? like why you gotta cover the top of their heads???

wow we’re really getting a lot of random lin mo shots hahahha is this iqiyi repenting their wrongs from ‘spirit of the knight’ i almost am surprised how yao mingming isnt getting the most screentime but then i remember iqiyi has never favored yao mingming........ /sigh

AYYY WENXUAN AND LIN MO THE BUDDIES

just look at how perfectly tilted / well-positioned lin mo’s head is wow and that gaze wow i just love his stage presence

yea im gonna have to rewatch this perf to gif the lin mo moments.... maybe after the finale tomorrow when ill be like oop lin mo didnt make it in oh well let me just wallow in his talent that the audience slept on by drowning myself in lin mo content (its not like i do that every day already)

LOL THAT CAMERA SPIN WAS SUCH A FAIL YOU CANT SEE ANYONE CEPT WENXUAN ADJUSTING HIS MIC HAHAHHAHA ok on a side note tho im glad wenxuan got to be in this group too!! yuehua’s dancer getting to show us his dancing again :’) and we all know he was discouraged being reshuffled into “maze” and i just wanna say wenxuan deserves more credit for being able to really go out of his comfort zone and pull off the cute concept in “maze” well even tho he didnt want to accept it at first!

HES PERFECT

hey yall is it just me or did you see lin mo’s eyes in that really fast flashy bit at the end of the preview for the finale? HAHHAHAHA i couldnt even screenshot it bc it was so fast, but i swear i saw his eyes so i think he was in it LOOOL

JSUT KIDDING I WENT BACK AND TRIED AGAIN AND I GOT IT

I KNEW I SAW HIS EYES HAHAHAHHAHA

oo i havent mentioned this before but i really like the sound of chen sijians voice, even when speaking...

OMG GU LANDI

OMGGGG MY CHILD YE ZIMING IN FREAKING TARZAN NEXT DOOR??!???

THIS IS TOO MUCH!!!!!!! THANKS FOR REMINDING US HOW IQIYI TOTALLY SLIGHTED THIS BOY OUT OF GETTING INTO TOP 35

aw honestly i wonder if lian huaiwei will really not make it tomorrow.....

omg sun zelin in the ending credits!!!!

OMG ZHAN YU TOOOOOOO

OOF LOOK AT ZHAN YU’S JAWLINE (ooops sorry yechen ahhahhhaa)

they must really like this part of the choreo??

BUT I LOVE THIS LOOK ON YECHEN YESSS

lol is this lin mo’s back

tbh im surprised they didnt include lin mo in the ending credits but i think they were trying to make up for the loss of yao mingming time earlier LOOL

ok well i have about 10 hrs until i gotta wake up to watch the finale so.... now to go watch fjj and hcx’s goodnight dachang HAHAH

#rants #this got long... but idk why i decided to include pictures this time #maybe itll make it easier to follow HAHAHA #mentor collab was so much fun last season bc everyone already knew their fate / whether they would get eliminated #so it seemed like they were just enjoying the stage #this time i was worried since it was before elims that they wouldnt be as fun but i think #even tho the competition was still looming in the background they still proved that theyre just as fun of a bunch of kids!!

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46ten · 6 years

Text

Henry Knox and Lucy Flucker Knox, part 1

Mini-summary of The Revolutionary War Lives and Letters of Lucy and Henry Knox by Phillip Hamilton.

Historian P. Hamilton has transcribed and published the approx.150 remaining letters between Henry Knox and Lucy Flucker Knox, his wife. Part of the Gilder Lehrman Collection, the letters most extensively cover the period 1776-1778, with a few more from 1779 and 1781. Hamilton notes that alongside the letters between John and Abigail Adams, the Knoxes letters to each other provide one of the few opportunities to observe a written dialogue between spouses during the revolutionary war period. If one wants to imagine the language in the letters Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton wrote her fiancé/husband, Lucy Flucker Knox's letters are a fantastic resource. There was only a year age difference between the women, and both grew up in established, wealthy families (Albany vs. Boston).

Henry Knox was born in 1750 in Boston. His father was a financially struggling shipmaster who sailed to the West Indies and died in 1759. With the additional deaths of his two oldest brothers, Henry had to abandon his formal education and support the family at an early age. He got a job as a clerk in a bookstore; with an interest in books on military science and artillery, he joined Boston's Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company in 1768. Hamilton (the author) describes him as, "ambitious, eager to rise above the hardships of his youth, and supremely confident in himself....he always dressed in the most elegant suits he could afford, and he remained fastidious about his appearance throughout his life." Henry lost two fingers on his left hand in a 1773 hunting accident, but concealed this injury throughout his life with a silk handkerchief.

In 1771, Knox opened his own bookstore, the "London Book-Store," possessing "a large and elegant assortment of the most modern Books in all branches of Literature, Arts and Sciences" according to an advertisement that year in the Boston Gazette. He regularly engaged his customers with discussions on the topics of the books within; he especially liked to discuss military science and engineering, but he also began to learn other languages and kept himself au courant with the knowledge and ideas of the day. As one can see, he was largely self-educated. He was also a "gentleman." After his bookstore was raided and destroyed by British soldiers, he nevertheless made the final 1000 pound payment for a shipment of books from London that he never received, out of his sense of propriety and duty.

Thomas Flucker Sr was the Royal Secretary for the Massachusetts Colony and a wealthy merchant who married Hannah Waldo, daughter of Brig. Gen Samuel Waldo*, in 1750. Lucy was born on August 2, 1756 (making her only a year and a few days older than Elizabeth Hamilton).

It's not certain when the teenage Lucy Flucker first laid eyes on Henry Knox - she may have seen him in military demonstrations or at the bookstore, but in 1773 she began spending so much time at his bookstore that a relative commented that it seemed she was courting him.

As Hamilton writes, "[t]wenty-three-year-old Henry Knox cut an impressive figure - physically large and fit, and officer in the city's elite militia company, and a witty and knowledgeable conversationalist on most subjects. Thus he seemed to be a dashing and attractive catch...Like most young couples in the mid-eighteenth century, love and physical attraction were increasingly important - indeed, vital - to a courtship's success...As [Lucy] most likely realized, the emotional and material quality of a woman's life was largely determined by the decisions she made during courtships. Therefore, beyond her obvious infatuation, Lucy surely considered Knox's ability to support her and any future children they might have together." Henry was industrious, ambitious, intelligent, and a gentleman - qualities that mattered more than being "well-bred." "Nor could [Henry] help but notice her family's lofty social position and considerable wealth..." Henry let Lucy take the lead in getting her father's consent to their marriage:

HK to Lucy Flucker, 7March1774

What news? Have you spoken to your father, or he to you upon the subject? ...I am in a state of anxiety, heretofore unknown. My only consolation is in you, and in order it should be well grounded permit me to beg two things of you with the greatest ardency. Never distrust my affection for you without the most rational and convincing proof. If you do not hear from me in a reasonable time do not lay it to my want of love, but want of opportunity; and do not, in consequence of such distrust, omit writing to me as often as possible. My love is, as it were, in its infancy. It will increase to youth, it will arrive at the most perfect manhood, it will grow with such a steady brightness that if the youth of both sexes do not esteem it their chiefest glory to come and light their tapers at it, want of discernment must be the reason...

Henry was 24 and Lucy was 17 at the time of their marriage on 23 June 1774, at Henry's house. Although her father had eventually consented (after encouragement from her other relatives), neither of her parents attended. Lucy and Henry fled Boston in April 1775; Henry joined the militia army, and the rest is history. (Or rather, if one is interested in Henry Knox's participation in military campaigns during the AmRev, wikipedia is a start. One note though: Knox's famed artillery train from Ticonderoga occurred when Knox was a mere 25 years old - certainly such feats were in AH's head when he was approaching 25 and had no comparable glorious accomplishment.) Lucy's family fled to Britain shortly afterwards and cut off all contact with her.

Henry wrote that Lucy made him, "the happiest of mortals" (to his friend, Henry Jackson, following his wedding to Lucy). Lucy was also, "the animating object of my life." Besides being "My dearest Lucy," she's also addressed as: “My dearest hope, My dearest friend, My dearest tender friend, my dearest love, my lovely love, my best beloved, My dear dear wife, my dearest blessing of heaven, my charmer,” though once he writes, "I leave [off] the usual address at the head of my Letter because I can fix upon none the thousandth part strong enough to convey the Idea of the strength of my attachment & love to you,” HK to LFK, 6Apr 1777.

To Lucy, Henry was, "My only love, my only friend, My Ever Dear Harry, My dearest friend, My all."

One of the themes P. Hamilton presents is that the challenges that spouses faced during the AmRev, especially wives with long-absent husbands, led to a sense of greater equality between men and women. Lucy was left in charge of financial management of what she could obtain of her family's affairs - and manages without Henry. At one point, Lucy decided on a course of action that Henry disagreed with (so much for the stupid thought that wives were absolutely obedient to their husbands); Henry pleads with her to follow his advice instead as, "your Best Friend, your Lover, and blessed by Heaven to be your Husband..." They are certainly an example of the companionate marriage ideal: marriage as a partnership between best friends, strengthened by their attraction and physical intimacy.

There's a lot of great information in their letters about American Rev activity, patriotism and American grievances re. Britain, smallpox inoculations, the ins and outs of other generals and their wives (Caty Greene is mentioned frequently), and eventually their children's education and Lucy's concerns about their financial stability. Henry shared a great deal of information with Lucy not only about his day-to-day life, but about military plans and ambitions (as was prudent - many letters mention the fear of miscarry and falling into enemy hands). There are more surviving letters from Henry to Lucy than the other way round - Lucy's letters were likely lost by Henry as he traveled with the army.

The below quote from Lucy summarizes as well as anything I've read why EH likely destroyed her own letters to her husband:

29 or 30 April 1776. L to H

I should long before this have indulged myself in the pleasure of writing to him who is allways in my thoughts, whose image is deeply imprinted on my heart and whom I love too much for my peace, but the fear that the language of a tender wife might appear ridiculous to an impartial reader (should it miscarry) has restrain'd me. Is my Harry well. Is he happy. No, that cannot be when he reflected how wretched he has left me. I doubt not, but the please of his little girl, as he used fondly to call me, must sometimes draw a thought from him tho surrounded with gaiety and scenes of high life. The remembrance of his tender infant must also greatly affect him when he considers it as so great a distance from its Father, its natural guardian in a place exposed to an enraged enemy and almost defenceless.

2 May 1776. H to L

I sigh for my love. I think of her night & day & I wish her here, but dread the fatigues of the Journey. I am extremely chagrin'd that I received no letters from her by the last post. What can be the reason? But my love did not know I am being at New York, she must have thought me on the road.

28 Aug 1776 H to L

Dear Girl, how much I love you. War will bring peace and bye & bye we will live together, enjoying the felicity & happiness of each other's society 'till time walk us to immortal happiness. Kiss my babe for me & Believe me to possess a sincere affection for you as it is possible for a mortal to do.

In his letters, Henry also asks for, “intelligence concerning the dear pledge of our mutual affections,” [little Lucy Knox], and later refers to their children as, "dear little images.”

After rising to the position of Major Gen., Knox resigned his commission in 1784 and became Secretary of War in 1785, continuing in this position in Washington’s cabinet. Most of his duties revolved around "Indian Affairs." At some point, he also comes to weigh over 290 pounds (Lucy reached around 250 pounds.) Tied up with his various business ventures (x, x), he did not participate in the suppression of the Whiskey Rebellion; AH became acting Secty of War in Knox's place. [HK and AH were good friends - well, besides that matter of their rank in 1798. Their wives likely were also, or at least shared the same social circle. The Knox and Hamilton children shared tutors at times. HK is the author of the letter informing AH of EH’s likely miscarriage in 1794.] Knox retired the position in Jan 1795 and he and Lucy settled in the Maine frontier and were hated by most of their neighbors, to the point of armed conflict. (Maine settlers found Knox to be aristocratic - Henry Knox is the inspiration for Hawthorne's Col Pyncheon in The House of the Seven Gables. It's a useful reminder, in this age of Founders Chic, how rapidly the vision of the Founders was rejected by the American people.) Henry choked on a chicken bone, developed an infection, and died in 1806. Only three of their 13 children survived to adulthood, and Lucy lived alone in their home until her own death in 1824.

To be cont’d

*Henry and Lucy eventually became landowners of part of her grandfather’s large patent of land, once called the Waldo patent, in what would become Maine. They later sold it to William Bingham.

#Henry Knox #Lucy Flucker Knox #18th century marriage #18th century letters

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theolddarkmachine · 7 years

Text

12 Days of ODM: Day 6

Dedicated to: @bluuesparrow

Prompt: Gajevy It Happened One Night AU

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995151

“You seem to be lost,” Gajeel said casually, his tone as flippant as he could make it as he led her carefully towards his inevitable victory.

“Lost?”

“I mean, I never thought I’d ever see a McGarden at a bus station.” All of the color drained from her face as her eyes widened, staring at the journalist as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Checkmate.

BLUE MY DEAR! I gotta thank you for such a great prompt, and also tell you that it was too good lol So, before you go any further, please note that that one time I was beating myself up over needing to split a prompt into another part, that was yours. It was either decide to release it in two parts to do it justice, or rush everything and make it bad. So I bit the bullet and decided to split it. So I’m so sorry if the ending of this isn’t satisfying. IT ISN’T MEANT TO BE. Once holidays are done and we get another update in on the multi-chaps, part two is coming. I hope that isn’t too much of a letdown, and I hope you enjoy part one! Merry Christmas!

*****************************

Gajeel’s lungs started to burn with the breath he’d been holding in an attempt to focus on anything else beside the inevitable loss of his job, and the dingy surrounding of the bus depot. He’d been sitting in the station for longer than he cared to admit, mind set on the measly $100 left in his bank account and the ultimatum from his editor to either “get out of this writing rut of his” or “find his ass another job.”

The first option, was easier said than done.

The second option, wasn’t an option at all.

Gajeel had worked too hard to get to his position as chief news writer at Fiore Times to just “find another job.”

So, he did what any sensible, nearly broke and nearly fired journalist would do and headed down to the depot to think. Some of his best stories had come from the downtrodden and lost drawn to the place of escape. Hidden deep beneath the cracked exteriors of the hopeless was often times a treasure trove just waiting for Gajeel to write about.

Except, apparently right now when he needed it, as the only other person there was the unamused, spotted teenager selling tickets.

The breath left his mouth in an angry huff as it finally escaped, the sound of it not even enough to make the ticket seller look up from his phone as he popped his gum. He had been there for the better part of an hour, only successful in making himself more annoyed the longer he sat there and heard the sharp pops of the teen’s bubbles.

“Could ya stop—“ he started to say, voice slightly angrier than necessary in the situation before it was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door. A petite woman stood in the doorway, her chest heaving and the slick sheen of sweat across her forehead shining under the fluorescent lights of the bus station.

She looked… tired.

He watched as her eyes lit up as she looked at the expanse of empty chairs before her, a small chirp of happiness escaping her as she dropped into the seat nearest to the door. Delicate hands fluttered over the strands of blue hair that had been whipped free of the headband holding the rest back from her face as she tried vainly to contain it again. The yellow of her blouse was bright in the otherwise drab room, its coloring playing up the azure highlights of her hair as if she was a slice of the sunlit sky.

From where he sat, he watched the way her breathing steadied as she collected herself. Just from the few moments she had been in the bus station, her grand entrance ignored only by the the ticket seller, Gajeel could tell she was not the kind of girl that made a habit of frequenting public transport. Hazel eyes settled on him from across the room as the woman finally registered that she wasn’t the only one there. Her delicate brow pulled upwards to her hairline as she appraised him.

The recognition hit him like a freight train as he held the gaze. He had seen her before. Would know the curious coloring of molten honey and periwinkle anywhere. In fact, one of the last stories he’d actually been able to write had been about the very hotel empire she would one day inherit.

Levy McGarden.

Heiress to the Magnolia Hotel dynasty that made her one of the wealthiest women in the country. Wealthy enough to be able to travel in other ways aside from a dingy bus. Interesting.

Now there may be a story, he thought to himself as he stood up from his seat and made his way towards her. Levy’s eyes narrowed as she watched him make his way over, walking with over exaggerated confidence before dropping himself into the seat just to the left of her. The air about her was expectant as she waited for him to say something as she steeled herself for whatever it was he might say. When he didn’t say anything, her gaze hardened to a glare. Time stretched between them as she waited, only making her grow more visibly irritated with each passing second. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the grin that threatened to crack his lips wide.

“Can I help you?” She asked finally, her voice bell like as she broke the silence first. For added effect, Gajeel looked around before he turned his attention fully towards her, pressing as hand to his chest.

“Me?” He asked innocently.

“You are the only you I could be speaking to,” Levy deadpanned as she crossed her arms over her own chest. Her mouth turned downward in a scowl as she shifted so she was pressed into the opposite side of her seat.

“Nope. I was actually wondering if I could help you out.” He watched as she processed his words, her stare filled with nothing but distrust as she waited for him to elaborate, while he waited for her to prompt him to answer. Another sigh danced between them.

“What do you mean, help me?” Levy’s eyebrow arched dangerously.

“You seem to be lost,” Gajeel said casually, his tone as flippant as he could make it as he led her carefully towards his inevitable victory.

“Lost?”

“Now, I imagine there’s a story here,” he continued, not allowing her the opportunity to find a retort. “So I was thinking we could strike a deal. I assume you don’t quite know how to work the bus system, so I’ll help you get to where you’re going, and you give a struggling journalist the story that led you here.”

Silence filled the lobby as they held each others gazes. His, lit by the confidence of having the advantage. Hers, colored by disbelieving disdain.

“And if I refuse?” She finally asked, voice hardened by

“Well something tells me if you’re here, you don’t want to be found. And I know just about everyone that would be looking for you.” It was a slight bluff. Gajeel didn’t actually have any contact for her father. The man was insistent on keep his number out of the hands of the media. But he did know a couple people who could eventually get the information to him. Her glare could cut diamonds as it bore into him, her scowl deepening as she considered her options.

“Fine.”

The single word was a curt thing, made entirely of cut glass that sought to tear his skin. It seemed that Levy had claws hidden behind the demure mask she was known for wearing.

“Excellent,” Gajeel said with a smile as sharp as her tone. “All we need now is this destination of yours and some tickets.”

Another voice answered him, the spotted teen’s voice bored as he finally tore his gaze from his phone to look at the duo in the lobby.

“You guys know that the last bus for the day left like, an hour ago right?”

It was with that disinterested tone that the small victory he had felt was swept from him. Gajeel rolled his eyes upwards, not bothering to even look at the short woman beside him as she groaned loudly at the news.

Of course it had.

***

He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.

Her father’s words continued to echo in her mind, spurring her first from the hotel that they were at and then to the bus station just on the outskirts of the small town. Levy had known he wouldn’t approve of her and Erik’s engagement. He hadn’t even approved of their dating, constantly telling her that her then boyfriend was nothing but a fortune hunter that couldn’t be trusted. If she didn’t love Erik so much, she might have stayed with him anyway if only because her father disapproved so vehemently.

But she did love him, a fact that had been made all too apparent when he’d dropped down to one knee one sunny afternoon and finally asked her to marry him. It was the happiest moment of her life, even if it was overshadowed by the fact he had to head back to the city later that evening and she had to go with her father down south for business. Then her father decided to remind her just how against the union he was.

He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.

I’ll prove you wrong, father. I’ll get to him one way or another, and I’ll do it without your money and you’ll see.

You are a foolish girl.

I’ll prove you wrong.

Levy’s plan consisted of three very simple steps: get to the bus station, ride a bus to the city, find her fiancé. It should have been a breeze, the hardest part being choosing between which bus to take, yet something went wrong.

That something wrong being a no good, rotten journalist with a nose for a story and the ability to ruin all of her plans.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Levy asked from where she was now perched atop a short wooden fence. Her eyes were hawklike as she watched the stranger— Gajeel, she reminded herself— standing on the side of the road with his arm held out and his thumb up. It had been almost two hours since they’d left the station after learning that there wouldn’t be another bus until the next afternoon, spurring the journalist to proclaim he knew how they could get going. From where she sat, it seemed he lied.

“Yes, Shrimp,” he huffed, not bothering to turn back and look at her as he continued to stare out at the road. She could only imagine that he was willing some sort of vehicle to materialize before them, if only to protect his ego that took another hit with each passing car. It might have been funny if it didn’t mean another lost opportunity for her to finally get started on her journey to Erik. In the distance, Levy could see the inky silhouette of a truck driving towards them. Silently she made a wager with herself over whether or not the vehicle would stop for the man. If the past 16 cars were any indication, it wouldn’t.

“It’s hitch hiking. You probably don’t know anything about it, being a princess and all."

Honestly, Gajeel was an insufferable man. Armed with an angry scowl and a worn leather jacket, he reminded her of an angry old man trapped in the body of a 25-year-old. She knew the journalist’s name. In fact, she’d loved reading his articles for how in-depth and articulate he was. The love for his craft had come through in the words, carrying the research he’d done and shaping it into stories that were award winning. Levy had made it a point to buy each paper that had a piece of his as the headline, up until that headline had been about an investigation into how her father had come into his fortune.

It was one thing for her to question her father’s ways, it was another entirely for someone else to do it.

“Heiress, actually,” she muttered as she watched the truck barrel by, the wind from its speed blowing Gajeel’s wild hair around his shoulders. The sound of his cursing was drowned out by the roar of the vehicle as it continued down the road and away from them.

“From the looks of it, you don’t quite know anything about it either.”

Her words earned her a loud grunt and a cold glare as Gajeel spun on his heel to face her.

“Then why don’t ya give it a try, Short Stack.” Levy shouldn’t have found herself smiling at the overtly annoyed edge in her companion’s voice. It was unfair to laugh at the man’s misfortune, especially since he was helping her get to Erik. Granted, he was only helping because he wanted something, but it wasn’t like it had been the first time someone had come into her life for the sake of gaining something.

The left corner of her mouth betrayed her as it pulled upwards.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Hopping down lightly, she made her way towards where he stood watching her with a weary expression.

“Go sit down,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll get us a ride.”

The next 15 minutes were the longest of Levy’s life as she waited for the next car that would come by, and hopefully stop. She wasn’t a very prideful person, but there was something about the wild haired man and his untamed eyes that made her want nothing more than to beat him at this small game they were playing. Gajeel’s stare was almost as hot as the sun above as it bore into her back, neither of them saying anything as they both waited in thick silence. A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline and rolled lazily down her neck as she stared into the horizon, looking for any sign of life.

She was close to caving and breaking the quiet when she’d finally seen the distinct shadow of another truck coming over the hill. Perfect.

Slowly, Levy ran both her hands through her hair, gathering the blue strands into the clutch of her left so that it exposed the long line of her neck to the road. Once it was all gathered, she used her free hand to pull down the shoulder of her blouse so that the expanse of her skin was bared. Leaning her weight to one side so that her hip jutted out just so, she waited until she could hear the roar of the motor before she added the final touch.

With a barely there smile, she leant her head back just slightly as she began to fan at her skin.

Gajeel snorted behind her as she assumed her position, the sound filled with disbelief at her audacity for thinking that was all it would take. He clearly didn’t know the power of a little bit of skin. Almost as if to prove her point, the sound of the truck’s engine grew impossibly loud as it drew close before it began to fade into a gentle purr as it rolled up next to her.

“You lookin’ for a ride, doll?” A thickly accented voice asked through the open window. Her smile was genuine as she dropped her hair and stood straight, imagining the look that must have been etched across Gajeel’s face as he watched the exchange.

Levy- 1, Gajeel- 0, she thought to herself wickedly as she walked towards the truck.

“Me and my friend her were hoping we could hitch a ride with you to the next town,” Levy said, aware that her voice was smug and loud enough for the journalist to hear. “Or at least as close as you can get us.”

The man, who was pleasant enough, agreed to take them to the next town over, with the only stipulation being that the pair ride in the bed of the truck. Levy had not seen an issue with the arrangement, and Gajeel didn’t get a say. Within just a few minutes of the man stopping, they found themselves sat amongst leftover hay and gardening tools with the air whipping through their hair.

“No thank you?” She asked once their ride had picked up speed. Her gaze was trained on Gajeel as he kept his own locked onto the landscape around them. A very small part of her purred in contentment over the displeased pout that had turned his features downward.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look at her as he spoke. If she hadn’t been waiting to hear his response, she might have missed the words entirely as they were whipped away with the wind.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be helping me.” Levy kept her voice light and teasing as she attempted to goad a response out of him, if only so she could revel in her victory for just a few minutes more. Gajeel may have agreed to help her, and she may have agreed to give him a story, but she never agreed to make it easy. That can be his story, she thought to herself as she watched his onyx hair fly around his shoulders, Levy McGarden is a sore winner.

“Very funny, Shrimp.” His voice said it was anything but.

“I’m serious,” she continued as she tied her hair up to keep it out of her face. “Maybe I don’t need you after all. Can keep my story all to myself.”

The garnet of his eyes flashed as quick as a sword stroke from the scenery towards her in a barely perceptible glance. It was such a fast movement, she almost didn’t see the worry that softened them from the hard rubies they’d been that entire afternoon to silk sheets.

“It was just beginner’s luck,” he grumbled.

“Maybe.” It was her turn to shrug as she leant further back into the wall of the truck bed. “But I’m sure I still could have managed. Contrary to what you may have heard, I’m pretty self-sufficient.”

Waiting for a biting response that didn’t come, she pressed further in search of some answers of her own.

“What I want to know is why you’re so adamant about helping me.”

Gajeel’s sigh was heavy as he finally turned his full attention on her, its intensity sending a shiver dancing down her spine.

“Do I need a reason to want a good story?”

It was Levy’s turn to pause as she leveled him with her own gaze, ignoring the way her skin was erupting with a long line of goosebumps. She should drop the subject now and just play the hand she’d been dealt. There was nothing but danger in trying to untangle the twisted reasoning for the journalist’s help, especially with the way her heart had started to rattle her ribcage. Levy should be throwing up guards of her own.

Instead, she opted to lower her defenses. It’s for the sake of getting what I want, she told herself, ignoring a small voice in the back of her mind that suggested ulterior motives to her thoughts.

“I’ve read your work, Gajeel, I know you have a never-ending supply of good stories.” She allowed her voice to grow soft as she spoke as if she was trying to coax a wild animal closer. “Compared to some of them, mine is hardly worthy of all this work.”

The minutes felt like hours as she waited for a reply that she wasn’t even sure would come as he carefully scrutinized her. His gaze could level fields as he attempted to read the very thoughts in her head, making his decision on whether he could trust her with the truth of his intentions. She almost gave up waiting when she saw the line of his tensed shoulders slacken.

“Recently, writing has been,” he paused again, as he searched for the right word. “Difficult.” Gajeel’s studded brows pulled together as he spoke, almost as if the realization was coming to him as he revealed it to her.

“I haven’t had any inspiration in awhile and it seems I have found the end of my editor’s patience.”

Whatever Levy had thought he would say, that wasn’t it. She’d been ready to hear that he was a headline hungry journalist, ready to pick her life apart for recognition. Would have been ready to accept that he was just opportunistic. Even would have suspected he was just a sadist who happened to make her his next victim. Levy had absolutely not expected for him to have an actual, human reasoning.

Gajeel turned his attention back to the fields the whizzed by them as if he could no longer speak as he looked at her. She didn’t miss the way his hand fisted over his knee as he continued, trying to settle back into an air of indifference to cover up the piece of himself he’d just given her.

“If I don’t find my next story, I get to kiss my job goodbye.” His voice was filled with so much more than the careful nonchalance he tried to exude as he shrugged. She also didn’t miss the way his lips twitched downward, or how a distant sadness darkened the red of his eyes.

Levy didn’t feel bad for him. At least, that’s what she told herself as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her gaze flickered from the flat expanse of land that whizzed by in a blur of various shades of green to find his face. For the first time, she allowed herself to really see him. She noticed the way his jaw was set as if he was constantly waiting to hear bad news, and the severe crimson of his eyes that seemed to see everything as he looked out around them, only missing the way she stared at him now. There was no denying that he was handsome. Handsome in the same way a jungle cat was: nice to look at, but ready to tear any that came too close to shreds.

No, Levy couldn’t feel bad for someone that was so hard and abrasive, knowing all too well that that behavior was what most likely got him into the spot his was in now. Yet, the sadness in his eyes as he’d spoken of losing his job had been something she had known on an intimate level. She understood loss, and loneliness, her own demons crying out as they recognized their brethren in the ruby of his stare.

She swallowed down the small stutter of her heart as his gaze met hers before she could tear it away. The land around them stretched on forever in a darkening sea of shadows as the sun set, the truck driving them to the first stop on their journey.

Once she was certain he’d averted his own stare, Levy let her gaze flicker back towards his face and ignored the way her insides filled with fire.

It was going to be a long ride.

***

#gajevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #HITCH HIKER AU YALL #i seriously beat myself up for this one for liek two weeks #THERE'S JUST SO MUCH I WANNA PUT INTO IT OKAY #IM SORRY #IM SO SORRY #12 days of odm

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jonogueira · 7 years

Text

Áine.

Here’s the AO3 and the link to Moon Hair e Fire Eyes. I was listening to this while writing.

Chapter 15

Satinalia - Cullen’s gift.

It was still early when Cullen came back from his morning exercises, it took him a lot longer than usual due to ‘Satinalia’s spirit’. Everyone wanted to wish everyone an excellent day, and after everything they had been through the last weeks, he was glad the Inquisition was in high spirits.

He picked up some reports from Josephine’s table before going to his office. He turned and closed the rotunda’s door behind him, but before continuing, he lifted his eyes from the reports and noticed smoke coming from his office’s fireplace.

“That’s odd.” – He said aloud creating fog with his breath.

He stopped on the small bridge between his office and the main building and looked around to see if he was late and if the Skyhold’s workers were already around, but saw none of them, only a few people scattered here and there.

Snow was piling up around his shoulders and head, he looked to the sky, closed his eyes and chuckled.

“It’s going to be a snowy Satinalia. I have to remind myself to give the soldiers and recruits some time off today.”

He stretched and rubbed the back of his neck while going to his office. When he opened the door, a wave of hot air engulfed his entire body; he hurriedly entered and mentally thanked the person who lit the fireplace. He took his coat off, hung it near the door, and turned to his table, only to find a box on top of it.

He lifted his right eyebrow and calmly walked there. He placed the reports next to it and ran his fingers on the box. There was a note on top of it, and his small ice daisy was on the top of the note.

He didn’t know why he kept the little flower, but he had acquired the habit of running his fingers on its petals while thinking. It had a calming effect on him. One stressful day, with lots of reports and letters to read and write, he caught himself looking outside his window, to his troops in the valley while rubbing his gloveless fingers on the petals and humming a familiar song, his mind returned to the night in the clearing with the mysterious woman. After that, he always kept it within arm’s reach around his office.

As the memory of the night returned to him, Cullen started playing with the little flower and made himself comfortable in his chair, his eyes traced its petals, and he was amazed by the fact it was still intact.

He, somehow, knew her. On those sleepless nights, when the withdrawal hit him hard, her song came to his lips. He closed his eyes and remembered her in the center of the clearing. She looked so peaceful and strong like she owned the little space and he was a trespasser in her domain.

He had read enough reports that day and needed some alone time to think about anything but their situation. He was walking aimlessly when he saw something among the trees. He quietly approached the person, right hand holding his sword grip and heart racing, but heard her before he actually saw her.

She was standing there, watching the stars, her body language was relaxed, she didn’t have a care in the world, he was even envious of her. How could she be so calm in such situation? He remembered asking himself. He watched her for some time, and the song she was humming was familiar, soothing.

She stopped, and her body tensed up when he made noise. She stood there still, waiting… he tried to engage her in conversation, but she didn’t say anything, just started humming again. He approached her, he didn’t know why but he had to see her, to be closer to her.

He asked about the song’s name, she didn’t know. He wanted to ask her about herself if she was okay or needed anything but changed the conversation.

She made the small flower and ended up telling him they might have known each other from Kirkwall, but left before he could ask about her name. He knew they had history, they were connected.

He shooed the thoughts away and changed his attention to the box in front of him. It wasn’t a big box, but bigger than his hand.

He thought it was a gift from Josephine and smiled, she had, against his will, decorated his office for the festivities with wreaths and garlands, a gift didn’t seem impossible. The next thought was Sera, was this another of her pranks? He backed away a little, but it wasn’t likely, there was a note. Maybe a gift from Leliana? She had shown her worries about him the last couple of days. Or was it the Inquisitor’s? People had talked about them, how the Commander and the Inquisitor would make a powerful couple, even after he had denied anything between them. The fact that the Inquisitor seemed to fancy him didn’t help at all. Maker, he didn’t know what to do, if she truly did, he would have to find a way to say no to her, she was a beautiful, powerful and brilliant woman, but he couldn’t see her as anything but a friend.

“Maker’s breath…” – He muttered under his breath.

He sighed, and suddenly the room got hotter. He was unsure of what to do first, open the box and find a prank from Sera, or read the letter and find out it was from the Inquisitor.

curiosity winning, he carefully opened the box, and both eyebrows went up. He sat at the edge of the chair and had his mouth watering at the sight of the beautiful pie in front of him. It was a chocolate and strawberry pie, something he hadn’t eaten in a long time. His hand reached for a strawberry but stopped midway when he remembered Sera.

He inspected the pie, and when he found nothing wrong, he shrugged and ate it. A knife and a fork were inside the box too. He removed everything from the box and cut a slice for himself. He took a bite and slouched back in the chair. He was chewing the pie with the fork on his right hand, arms on the armrests, legs apart, eyes closed and head arched back on the chair’s top rail. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Maker, this is del…” – He suddenly sat up, a funny thought occurred him. What if the pie was not for him?

He placed the fork on the table with shaky hands, sat straight on the chair and grabbed the note.

Cullen,

I wish I could give you more than just a pie, but it is all I can give you.

No, that’s a lie and I am sorry about it! I could say I can give you my heart, thoughts, days and nights; my saddest tears or my happiest smiles, but I can’t, because I have already given them to you. I have already given you everything I am.

I am physically far from you, but be sure that my thoughts and soul are near. You are, let me correct it, you have been the first and last thought of my day for many years now. In fact, you’ve been in my thoughts more times a day than I dare say, and it always brings a smile to my face, lightens my day and calms my heart. I was sure I was happy before you showed up, but I see now how wrong I was. Although I cannot have you near, and it saddens me, I must admit it’s how I think it should be.

I am not and never will be, anywhere near suitable for you. I’m not beautiful, strong, intelligent nor respectful enough to be by your side.

My skin is not smooth or soft. I do have scars and I’m proud of some of them.

I’m broken and some pieces will never be put together. However, those same experiences that broke me, have made me who I am, and I wouldn’t change it.

I have made some stupid decisions and have regrets because of them, but they are lessons I will cherish for the rest of my life.

I am nothing but an Inquisition pawn, one more soldier trying to make a difference in people’s life, and it is good for me, I love helping people, that’s one of my life’s goals.

Please, don’t think I do not like myself because I do. I’ve been through a lot and learned to value and to respect myself. It’s… I know you, more than I can admit here. I know you’ve been through a lot too, and thus, deserve the best there is out there.

You deserve someone who steals your breath away every time you look at her, and makes you feel the luckiest of man. Someone who can help you through your worst times, who won’t let you fall, even when you think you will. Someone who, you can talk to about work, and will help you come up with brilliant solutions. Someone who won’t embarrass you when you go somewhere. Someone to add and not subtract.

I wish you find this someone soon because I know it will bring a smile to your lips every time you think about her, just the way it does when I think about you. Every night you spend awake in the darkness you will remember her, and it will seem like a lantern was lit, like you are the beacon in my darkness. Every time you wake in coldness, the thought of her will make you warmer, like you are my fire in the cold nights. Before bed she will be the reason you pray to wake up the next morning, like I pray and beg for one more day, just to have a chance to see you, even if from afar.

I wish you find someone who will hug you and hold you near and tight when your days are long and stressful. That eyes are so honest, you will see everything you need and without a word, you two will understand each other. Whose touch will give you strength to conquer the world if need be, whose kiss will burn your doubts to the ground.

A partner who will make mistakes and learn with you, who will allow and contribute to make your lives an adventure. A wife who will make you feel the man I know you are and will be, who will always stand by your side, no matter what the world throws at both of you, and that you will do the same for her. Mother to your children, because I know you will be the best father a child can have. When you are both old, will still make you laugh, because you deserve to be happy now and ever.

I wish I could be this someone, but I’m just… I just make chocolate pies.

I’m sorry I made you waste your time reading this stupid letter, I hope the pie is better.

And I also hope that somehow, I was the reason for a smile this day.

Please be safe! I am anxiously waiting to see your smile today!

Thanks again for reading!

#áine #aine #cullen rutherford #chapter 15 #satinalia - cullen's gift #satinalia #gift

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avisamans-blog · 8 years

Text

IT’S JUST A SPARK BUT IT’S ENOUGH TO KEEP ME GOING

Ship: Prompto x Noctis Verse: There Are No Happy Endings Prompt: Valentine’s Day aND PAIN.

@ofnightsky and I have a verse where everything hurts and I wanted to write something for these two and it just hurt a lot. But it’s the good hurt. If this is the good hurt who knows.

Lestallum was almost comforting at night if you found the time to enjoy it. Prompto was the only one left at the motel, deciding to stay back on his own. He’d told Noctis it was just because he had a headache. That he wanted to lay down and that he’d keep the bed warm for his love to come back to. Except he didn’t have a headache, but he’d still keep the bed warm.

Prompto sat in one of the chairs with his laptop in his lap. He only ever used the device on nights where they found a motel to stay at. Otherwise it was tightly tucked away in his backpack in the Regalia. His camera was hooked up to it via a cord, but there was also a USB plugged into one of the ports. Violet orbs look over the screen in front of him, trying to pick the best pictures. Only the best for Noctis.

They were put together in a neat little slideshow. Burned onto a disc, but that was not all. Prompto had to calm himself down from a panic attack before hitting the little record button on his computer. Noctis would be able to tell he looks shaken up from the start. This would go at the end, after the little slideshow.

“Hey, baby…” Fuck his voice already sounds broken. “So, by now, you probably guessed I didn’t stay back because I didn’t feel good. I was running out of time to make this for you. Honestly I don’t even know when I’ll get to show you this. Anyway- um..” So professional of him to pause and think about what to say next. “I told you a few days ago that I wanted to do something unique. And I thought for a while about what to do. I wanted to make this Valentine’s Day special because…it might be our last one together.” He takes another pause, running a hand through his hair as panic resides in his stomach once more. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. “And if it is…even though it probably is, I want you to have something to look back on if you want. That’s…why I put all those pictures in first.”

They were pictures that Prompto had taken over their whole fucking relationship. Starting with their first Valentine’s Day together. Dumb candids in the middle of them being stupid. Them kissing, or cuddling. Their second Valentine’s Day, more dumb pictures. Sweet photos of them actually trying to take cute selfies together. Their third Valentine’s Day. The photos would continue like that until even days ago. One photo made Prompto cry while he was putting it in and editing it. The night before they learned about the marriage arrangement. Prompto was sat in Noctis’s lap, and as per usual they were sharing a sweet kiss, and they looked so fucking happy. Noctis’ hand gently in Prompto’s hair, a smile breaking on both of their faces. Was this the last time they were really, truly, happy together?

Taking a deep breath, Prompto smiles a little through the panic on his face. He had to look strong. There’s no time to re-record any of this. “I always told you that a picture is a memory. Even if…you never look back on these pictures, I know I will. I’ll find myself looking at them all the time…wishing…wishing-” There’s a cut in the video, and the next clip just shows Prompto starting with rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes are redder than they were before. Between takes he absolutely cried his eyes out. He wanted Noct. Needed him in fact. He had also changed shirts, from his red tank top to one of the shirts from Noctis’ backpack. At least feeling like he was closer helped to calm him down.

“I never told you this. But…around last year, I started to think. We were so goddamn happy, Noctis. You make me feel like the happiest person on this planet. All of my insecurities and self-worth issues just go away when you’re around. I forgot what it was like to hate myself when I was with you. And I thought…maybe you were the one. That- fuck.” Prompto runs a hand through his hair. “I’m off on a trip to watch my boyfriend get married. And months ago before we knew about this…I thought I would marry you. I wanted it so bad, and I just…never brought it up. Something told me to never bring it up. But, yeah. I wish that you and I could have made it further. But I want you to remember this okay?” Through the tears in his eyes, Prompto once again looks up at the camera.

“I love you. You make life worth living, and you’re the reason I get out of bed in the morning. You have been, these last years I got to call you my boyfriend. Everything I did was for you. I kept going for you, because you were the only thing that I was sure of in life. I could never be sure about my parents coming home for days at a time. I could never be sure I wouldn’t be disappointed over grades in school. But what I was sure about was that I could see you whenever I wanted. And that felt so fucking amazing.” The blond glances at the clock and takes another breath. “I need to wrap this up. You’ll probably be back soon. Noctis, never forget this okay? I love you. More than anything on this planet. I love you more than chocobos, or photography, or anything. I love you so much baby…please…never forget that.”

When the camera is shut off Prompto bawls. He fucking breaks down. Enough so that the video is hastily put together and the disc is quickly burned with data. His laptop is shoved back in his backpack and he’s in the shower to calm down. In case they came back and he didn’t look okay.

Prompto was thankful they actually got the time in Galdin they talked about. It was nice, a night for the two of them. Lots of kissing, lots of sex, lots of…silence. Prompto wasn’t sure when they finally went to sleep. But it was a lot of laying with each other in silence, not saying anything but their bodies spoke a thousand words. It was if they both knew this would be one of the last times they could lay together without a care in the world. They didn’t have to worry about finding their clothes in a rush, or getting dressed at all. Prompto could kiss him all he wanted and say he loved him as much as he could say it.

Once morning came, Prompto was the first awake like always. He slipped on some clothes and carefully took the little disc out of its casing. He wrote a little note to Noctis, and placed the disc and note on the bedside table. Grabbing his camera and phone, Prompto quietly snuck out of the room.

Noct,

Went down to the beach to take some early morning pictures. Gotta get that sunlight just right. Anyway, I know Valentine’s Day is technically over, but give this CD a once over. Use my laptop. Come find me on the beach or text me after. I love you!

- Prompto

#✖ . || what if I lose it all (OFNIGHTSKY) ||#✖ . || I’ll light up your burnt out halo (PROMPTIS) ||

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