#if i find the sources for the rest ill update | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nijigay · 9 months

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hiiii :3 I noticed ur one (of a few) ppl who ships boniji on tumblr, and I wanna know if you know any accounts/artists who ships them so I could follow them to satiate my boniji fixation >.< Also, some bocchi x nijika questions I wanna personally ask: what songs do you recommend that reminds you of them? Also, what are some boniji fanfics you recommend/like? I probably already read most of their fics but I wanna know what others like. Lastly, ur personal boniji headcanons if you don't mind sharing... 👉👈

I only ask blogs rarely cuz I'm shy so no need to answer immediately...

I'm just brainrotting over boniji so much! im so normal about them (◔‿◔)

AWAWAWA i love boniji like so much like too much like its become my main personality trait!

but youre right!!! it feels like boniji fans are mostly japan natives and there dont seem to be many english speaking boniji fans! ohhh i wish there was more of a following! imagine a boniji zine in the west! i would pay money to get involved with that

im kind of embarrassed about shoving my ships in ppls faces all the time and this might get long and its just me like rambling about my OTP so like .. gona put it under a read more lol. seriously this post is like almost 2k words long thats longer than my average fanfic chapter

i hate to be a shill but im going to be a shill for my fic recommendations:

ive been working on a lowkey corny boniji hanahaki fic on AO3 and some other oneshots, so maybe you would be willing to check my own stuff out?? (if u want .-. im really amateur with this stuff despite being an art student lol) its been on hiatus for like half a year but im just adhd af and keep restarting. im still working on it frequently tho and im secretly hoping to start updating on a consistent basis soon. but i also liked fics like "Midnight and Daydreams" and "Bubblegum Detergent" and "A Sellout Night" and "Just Enough to be Enough" and "A Kiss is Not A Cure". MANNN i remember that last one fucked me up bad when it was posted. it was only the second ever dedicated boniji fic and like I LOVE angst but with how small the sample size of fics was at the time it was like AUFHAUIJKADGF. all those fics are super super good though! i also love the third one, i love the trans bocchi HC personally

umm as far songs songs tho, i guess the ones i associate with boniji most are:

"veil" by keina suda, i remember drafting some animatic for an angsty AU of Hitori living on post-Kessoku

"STEP&CLAP" by yoshino aoyama (aka yoppi aka bocchis VA <3), i think yoppi making the song speaks for itself but its a rly cute song and i love thinking of Hitori and Nijika like tap dancing to it?? check out the rest of yoppi's debut album too!! her voice is so pretty and i was so happy finding out that there are 11 songs with her voice, instead of the 1 from the anime

idk why but i also think of them a lot when listening to PMMM's ost by yuki kaijuri, like "desiderium" and "not yet" and "mada dame yo"? these r kinda a stretch though but idk!!

i also like compiling music that reminds me of them into spotify playlists, if youd like some inspiration for your own! this one and also this angstier one

i have a lot of boniji headcanons but i feel like its hard for me to like list them all in one spot because they usually come to me with context during relevant conversations?? but ill list whatever i can think of!:

this ones not necessarily boniji but i was thinking about it like an hour ago, but i really like the idea of Seika being a huge boniji supporter. like in the source material she already finds Bocchi really cute, so I get the impression she would really like to be an older sister figure for Bocchi (and probably gets jealous of Kikuri for holding that spot in Bocchi's life lol), and so Nijika being a potential love interest for Bocchi would make Seika double down hard on supporting boniji. she'd probably be the one who brings Bocchi up to Nijika more than Nijika would bring her up to Seika?? i also like to imagine that for Seika she has a similar complex to Yoyoko. but instead of "Bocchi is stealing my spot as Hiroi's younger sister figure," it would be "Kikuri is stealing my spot as Bocchi's older sister figure" LOL . if that makes any sense at all

this ones actually taken from a japanese twitter user, but they moved on from boniji after the anime ended. but they had some headcanons that REALLY stuck with me. my favorite was the idea that Bocchi and Nijika both have inferiority complexes with one another. iirc their (translated) words were along the lines of "Bocchi thinks of Nijika as a pure, comforting light in her life, one that could be muddied if Bocchi got involved with her. On the other hand, Nijika thinks of Bocchi as a reliable hero who outshines an ordinary girl like her." i just REALLY like it. it also reminds me of this conversation that Yoppi and Suzushiro had on the BTR podcast, about Bocchi and Nijika's first meeting! like nijika literally brought light into Bocchi's life awdsfsgdhgfjh

actually that same user above also made a tweet that is the reason why i associate Keina Suda's "veil" with boniji! they made a tweet about an AU idea, where, in the event that Nijika would ever pass away, Seika would give Bocchi her ribbon, which Hitori would wear from that point onwards as she continues to play music to honor Nijika's memory. they also suggested that in the opposite event of Hitori passing away, Nijika would possibly do something very rash out of despair but thats dark hahaha!!!!

i kinda think this goes without saying and i think its actually a fairly common HC for BTR characters in general, but I can definitely see Bocchi being trans

I like to imagine that shortly after Volume 2, Bocchi and Nijika would probably have another conversation

eventually, i'm sure if Bocchi and Nijika pursued a relationship that they'd eventually move in together (or like into the same room? if Kessoku Band had a sharehouse?), and since both Bocchi and Nijika tend to be minimalistic with their room decor, their shared room would again become filled with a ton of Ryo's clothes and items and instruments, like how Nijika's room at Seika's apartment is

i think they'd both end up being really touchy with each other, especially when nervous? Bocchi kind of already does this when she's in new places (eg bringing Kita to Shimokitazawa, or going to FOLT for the first time and being dragged by Nijika), but I think it would grow to them finding comfort with each other?

idk if this is necessarily a HC but i really like how Bocchi and Nijika emotionally support each other, even in source. Nijika is shown to have a really good read on Bocchi (to the point of Bocchi worrying that Nijika is actually a psychic), knowing Bocchi's common thought processes, and picking up from Bocchi's mother during her first visit to Kanazawa that karaage chicken can bring Bocchi out of her anxiety attacks, and seems to be the only character who actually comments on Bocchi's growth as an individual and actively tries to facilitate it; but she also doesn't lovebomb Bocchi with praise, striking what seems to be a good balance for pushing Bocchi but also being a reliable confidant for her too.

one of my favorite details from the anime that i really feel doesnt get talked about as often as it should is when Nijika finally notices that Bocchi is guitarhero! she definitely wasn't the first to notice (Seika noticed first, but it seemed like Seika only knew about guitarhero via Nijika. When she notices that Bocchi's playing sounds familiar, her thought process immediately goes towards wondering why Nijika isn't noticing, and then she just tells them to get back to work) but she was the first one that Bocchi admits it too. but my favorite part is how Bocchi says that she wanted to change and grow as a person before telling them the truth, and she says that she especially wanted to grow before Nijika in particular found out! its just really cute, i love how Bocchi was worried about disappointing Nijika. and i like how, after some growth, Bocchi's dream turns from "becoming popular" to "making Kessoku Band the best band it can be" which is like almost basically the same as Nijika's dream! and so it's really nice when Bocchi doubles down on that goal by not remotely entertaining the idea of leaving Kessoku Band, even when goaded by promises of popularity.

last headcanon! because i ran out of thoughts and just came up with this on the spot. but i also like the idea that as the years go on, Bocchi and Nijika in particular may kind of become more similar in personality. i mean, they'd definitely still be distinctly them, but i like to think that Bocchi would eventually start picking up more optimistic habits and stop grimacing all the time, while Nijika would eventually become a little more lax and not reflexively try to dismiss her own negative feelings via looking at the silver lining. i thought of that when Nijika kinda dismisses her family dynamics with her mother's passing and her father's neglect after Kessoku's first real performance, as well as Nijika seeming to admit after inhaling Bocchi Dust(?) during her and Kita's Kanazawa visit that some of her optimism is performative

ok another one Nijika seems to have her art skills commented on sometimes so i like to imagine she has doodles of Bocchi in her sketchbook (alongside everyone else but mostly Bocchi). like think of like Miles Morales drawing a ton of Gwen Stacy like that kinda deal but with Nijika drawing Bocchi. and like Bocchi finds the sketchbook and Nijika freaks out and Bocchi actually doesnt look bc she doesnt want to do something wrong. but then Ryo or Kita take it and look instead and then show Bocchi and Bocchi melts into a flustered puddle

wowwow this got long! sorry! i really mean it when im like OBSESSED with these two like i think ive thought about them on a daily basis ever since the episode aired where Nijika bought Bocchi a cola. isnt that cute, too!? she picked up on Bocchi's favorite soda so quickly! and her buying a box of energy drinks for Bocchi despite not understanding why at all! girlfriend behavior

i really really want to make more boniji content, i'd like to be more active in posting my fics and drabbles and drawings, someday soon. right now most of my boniji content is just illegible sketches in my sketchbook lol

also thank u so much for like sending this ask im like BEGGING internally all the time to be given the chance to talk about them! i dont think theyre like a rarepair or anything, especially with them seeming to be like the second most popular BTR ship in japan, but i do think that not many people talk to them in the english side of the fandom! theyre super super cute and have really good chemistry.

this entire post is probably like a total carwreck i hope its even readable

ill also use this post as an excuse to post my own HCs for a Kessoku Band's relations chart. it's a bonus for reading this far. i'm sorry for draining 22 HP from you with this brain dump

#can i tag this #IM TAGGING THIS #boniji #bocchi the rock!#headcanons #hitori gotoh #nijika ijichi #hitori gotou #uhh what else would i tag. ...#my fanfic is in this #i really. really really REAAAAALLY like boniji #bocchi wants a cosplayer gf and the next day nijika starts fuckign cosplaying #what a coincidence #crazy right #long post #under the read more

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enterpris · 4 months

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An Education in Attraction, Chapter 8

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: None

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

Early Tuesday morning you receive an email from your Learning Theories professor informing the class that he’s ill and class is canceled, leaving your afternoon free. The notification on your phone wakes you up bright and early, so you eat a filling breakfast at the cafeteria and try to wake up for the rest of your day. Since Gojo isn’t in the Learning Theories course, you send him a quick text asking if he’d like to work on the project after your Curriculum class.

He’s generally quick to respond the other times you’ve messaged him, but you haven’t gotten an answer by the time you’re ready to head to your Curriculum class. It’s possible that he’s not on campus, though it seems his attendance in class lately has been much more regular than it was at the beginning of the term. You conclude he’s probably busy, but any free time this late in the term is a godsend. You can build out the research section in the meantime, finding and citing sources has been extremely time consuming.

Campus is in the full swing of summer. It’s bustling with more undergraduates and foreign students than usual- here for short term or study abroad programs. The sun beats down as you take the familiar walk to the Graduate School of Education, the humidity makes the air thick and your shirt stick to your back. It’s a relief when you make it to your building, savoring the blast of air conditioning as you push in the door.

You set up for class and begin talking to Kuzume about when she’s free this week when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You excuse yourself from the conversation and check- Gojo is free after class today, and he wants to continue to knock out some of the fine tuning of your project.

It would have been nice if he had responded before you left your room this morning, you huff internally. You’d forgone bringing your research notes for an additional text in your field, which won’t be very useful for working together. Maybe you can just run back to your dorm and meet him in the library afterwards.

You’re about to send a response when the man himself enters the room. You catch his attention and he gives you a quick nod of acknowledgement. You’ll just tell him your plan after class, no need to keep your phone out when the lesson will start any moment. One thing that hasn’t changed is Gojo’s near tardiness to class.

Class passes quickly in a rapid paced lecture from your professor. You’re busy taking notes and absorbing the new information about evaluating effective curricula. This framework could affect the project you’re working on, but more importantly, these skills can help you better assess if your students are learning and what they’re retaining. While high school students have mastered the basics in each subject, it’s imperative that they can build deeper understanding before moving on to higher education or the workforce.

After the lecture has wrapped up, Saito walks over to you and Kuzume.

“A free afternoon! Want to grab lunch?” She asks. You’re not the only one excited for an unexpected bit of free time.

“I’ve actually already got plans,” you say, motioning to Gojo where he’s still seated across the room. “We’re so close to finishing the project, I don’t want to stress about it any more.”

“No problem at all, we’ll catch up over dinner later?” She links her arm through Saito’s arm and starts pulling her away. You’d updated the two women about your more successful partner work, and Kuzume’s eyes sparkle as she replies. She’s clearly looking forward to an update later.

You nod and promise to hang out soon, then head over to Gojo.

“Hey, sorry for not replying earlier.”

“No worries, I figured we’d walk over to the cafe or library and get started?” He’s casual, seemingly to a fault.

“I actually have to run back to my dorm and grab the correct notes, but I can meet you at whichever is easier.”

“You live on campus?” You nod. “Let’s just walk together.”

It’s a little forward of him to invite himself over, but it should just be a quick stop. Plus, you reason to yourself, it’ll be the fastest way to dive right into the paper.

“Alright.”

The walk back to your dorm is mostly quiet, and though it’s not uncomfortable, you can’t blame the sweat or your anxiety completely on the humid weather. You unlock the door to your apartment and open it wide.

“Come on in,” you say. “It should just take a minute to find them.”

You’re not quite sure where you left the research notes, you have piles of texts on your desk and on the side table next to your Western style bed. Gojo slips his shoes off and comes into the room. He’s quiet as he surveys your space.

While you sift through the loose pages of notes on your desk, Gojo steps closer to the wall, hands in his pockets, and looks at the photos you’ve put up on the wall- your family, friends from undergrad, your home abroad. Above your desk there are smaller pictures and keepsakes from your travels around Japan.

The pages on your desk are mostly notes from your other class, and won’t help with the project.

The right notes must be in the stack of books on the floor. You grab them and sit on the bed, quickly paging through your handwritten notes. Gojo turns to look where you’re sitting and you look up at him. His head is tilted just slightly as he looks down at you, and it suddenly feels very intimate to have him in your space. Even though you’ve warmed up to each other, your conversations with Gojo have centered around academics, you know hardly anything about his personal life. Now he’s seeing yours on display.

Looking around the dorm, you try to imagine what he might see in his first time viewing it. Light from the window pours across the room, painting the natural wood furniture in warm brown tones. Besides the piles of books, you’re mostly tidy. You’ve kept decorations simple- just a couple of small plants and the photos of your favorite memories. Surely seeing your dorm won’t change his opinion of you, but it’s almost unnerving that Gojo hasn’t said anything at all about your space.

You look back at the stack of papers in your hands, the notes have got to be in this last group. After swiftly shuffling through the pile, you finally have what you need. Gojo is still absorbed in looking at your stuff, you can just see a quarter of his face from the angle, but you take the moment of peace to absorb him.

Your eyes trace the slant of his jaw and the back of his neck. For the first time since he was rude to you, you feel your face warm and your stomach flutter. He really is handsome, and since you had puzzled out his dedication to his future students, your heart had irrevocably softened towards him. While he’s distracted, you allow yourself a moment to fantasize- perhaps he’d like to stay friends or colleagues after you finish working on this project. You can imagine meeting him for coffee or having him over to study, maybe even growing closer.

“I found them,” is what you force from your lips. You don’t want to spend the whole afternoon with Gojo surveying your room.

He finally tears his attention from your personal items and turns to face you. His expression and posture are totally neutral and comfortable, as if he’s visited a thousand times.

“It looked like the library was pretty quiet today. Want to work there?”

“Yea, sure.” You respond.

Gojo leads the way back to the library, where the two of you settle in the annex. The good weather must have drawn most of the student body outside, because the usually busy space is emptier than normal. You settle at one of the smaller tables and begin to review the data points to support your curricula plan.

Since your working relationship with Gojo has improved, the two of you have made excellent progress on the body of your paper- nailing down learning objectives and discussing where your fields might have some commonalities. If you continue working at this pace, there should be plenty of time for edits and adjustments before it’s due.

Conversation is moving quickly and you’re rapidly typing some notes as conversation lulls for a moment.

“Soo.” Gojo interrupts your note taking flow. “You didn’t go to school here?”

You look up at him and pause your typing.

“Yeah. Actually all my school before this program was abroad.”

He flips the pen over his fingers again. And again. His fingers are slender and graceful, and the bones of his knuckles are delicate in his large hands. He’s dexterous and purposeful in his movements. He’s staring down at the pen and you can’t read his face through the sunglasses.

He stays quiet and you suppose that’s the end of it and turn back to your computer, trying to remember what you were typing.

“Did you like it? The summers?”

Automatically, your eyes flick back up to him. His expression hasn’t changed, he’s acting like his attention is entirely consumed by the pen.

Apparently, the trip to your dorm has piqued his curiosity. While your upbringing outside of Japan is usually an eccentric fact when you introduce yourself, it’s never really come up in conversations with your partner. It’s a bit touching that he’s opening up and asking you.

The immediate answer to Gojo’s question is yes. But because it’s the first time he’s really asked you about yourself, you take a moment to think about what the summers were like. When the words do come, they’re slow and sweet with nostalgia, like the maple syrup on pancakes you once ate. You take your time when you do reply.

“Yeah. I liked it a lot. My parents both worked during the day so I kind of got to do whatever I wanted. My friends and I would ride bikes through the neighborhood or hang out at the park. While I enjoy school now, it was really nice to have the time off.”

You pause, not sure if you want to ask the question on your lips. He hadn’t reacted poorly the last time you pushed a little, so you commit to speaking before you can change your mind.

“Did you enjoy your summers? When you were younger?”

You keep your eyes on the computer screen, casual just like he had been, but you can feel his attention switch to you.

Gojo seems to take a moment to consider the question. His expression doesn’t change and you wonder if he might just change the subject like the last time you met.

"They were busy."

You nod. That seems to be the consensus from the students you've taught and the other pupils in your Master's program. You’re pleasantly surprised that he answered at all, and you don’t expect any more than that. Though you’re on good terms with Gojo now, his answers are generally still clipped and to the point.

"I spent most of my summers studying. Not a lot of free time."

When you look up at him, there’s a hint of a furrow on his brow.

But his expression shifts to an easy grin in the time it takes you to blink and then he’s back to his normal genial disposition.

“At least that’s paying off now. I get to miss class and travel just cuz I’ve already written papers.”

A huff that might be able to pass for a laugh escapes you. “If only we were all so lucky.”

Gojo leans back in the chair and rests his hands behind his head. “It is nice being able to cite myself in the research section. I bet no one else in the program can do that.” His smile is a little conceited, and you’d be less charmed if it was worn by anyone else.

You make a point of looking back down at your computer, but internally you’re intrigued. Gojo’s never been quite so open with you, and you find yourself eager to learn more. The two of you work well together, and you wouldn’t mind getting to know Gojo better outside the context of your project.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have dared to follow up with a question, but something’s shifted in your time writing together. After his last answer, you’re nearly positive that he won’t react negatively if you do push for a little more info now.

“You still seem pretty busy. I don’t know if anyone else in the program has missed as many classes as you either.”

Your voice is light, and you’re pleased to tease him back after he had caught you off-guard in the cafe last weekend.

“Special case, remember?” He taps the side of his head. “If I want to be able to cite my articles, gotta write ‘em first.”

So he’s still working in academia while enrolled in the program. You’d thought teaching on the side was bad enough, you can’t imagine keeping up with assigned readings and assignments plus outside research and writing. Evidently Kuzume and Saito were right.

If anything Gojo seems to be invigorated by the good natured ribbing. His smile is as wide as it was in the cafe and the two of you have done some of your best work these last couple sessions. Perhaps all along you just needed some banter to grease the wheels of your relationship.

“Truly, the world is deprived of Gojo et al.”

He beams at you, “Not for long. The program’s only two years long.”

You can’t help a good natured eye roll at that.

You settle back into actually working after that, and the last thirty minutes in the cafe prove fruitful. Gojo is engaging and is insightful on where to insert citations, and your own thoughts are met with genuine consideration. Your fingers are nearly sore from typing and he’s written several pages of notes too.

You’re almost regretful to cut things off, but morning is turning into afternoon and there’s still reading you’ve got to finish before class tomorrow. So you finish typing one last sentence and then flex your hands. Summer vacation, with free time and a break for your hands, hangs deliciously just a month out of reach.

“I think that’s a good place to stop for today. I’ve got to head out and do some more reading. If we have a couple more days like this, we’ll finally be done.”

Gojo is busy scribbling onto his pile of notes, but you’d like to think he feels as accomplished as you do. There’s another month before the due date, but it’s worth having time to revise and proofread on an assignment this big.

“If it’s for Curriculum, watch out. The next chapter’s a pain. Took me over an hour and the author still didn’t get to the point.”

He must be talking about the flowery author you’d been reading last week. You smile back at him and start to pack up your things. Maybe you do have more in common than you thought.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #light academia #next chapter is a big one!!!#EiA

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crimsonrainseekingflower · 8 months

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Hey! I saw on the overworked blorbo poll that you mentioned who the artist of the Shang Qinghua art was! Would you mind sharing who that is and also maybe providing a source for it? Please? 🥺🙏

Ill say rn that I've matched the signature on some of the pieces to a Weibo account with the name I gave, which was corroborated with an old Tumblr post that also gave credit? But I don't trust that, and the cnoveluv page that prominently featured the art didn't credit anyone, and I can't access enough stuff on Weibo to investigate the account which I suspect is the artist. So I'd really would appreciate a source to finally put this whole search to rest so I can update the wiki with it, if you could 🙏🙏🙏

hello! i'm pretty sure we've both done the same research 😂 everything links back to 老历茅台 / 茅历台

there's also this video from 2021 which credits the same artist

but what happened (based on how links to 老历茅台 now all go to 茅历台) is that there was a change in how the artist presents themselves online!

if you take a look at this video which used to be on bilibili but has since been deleted and re-uploaded to youtube in 2018, this is how they were credited ⬇️

but by 2019 they had begun going by 茅历台

so yeah! i think that, coupled with the fact that their art has been posted all over without credit, is what makes things a little muddy in the english side of fandom. i also can't find the original post (it's almost certainly been deleted 😭) which is pretty frustrating because i like to be thorough. i did also hear something about their original weibo account having been hacked/deleted? but take that with a grain of salt because i don't have a source orz

but if you search twitter / X for "老历茅台" what comes up is a lot of people crediting them for the scum villain designs

TLDR: 老历茅台 or 茅历台 (same artist) is the person behind those famous sv designs everyone and their mother has reposted

i hope this helped! 💕💕💕

#ask #furbygoblinxiv

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na0hdark · 3 months

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Dear Friends, Followers, and Loved Ones,

I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to take a moment to share something personal with you all. As many of you know, I've been battling with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, for some time now. Recently, my condition has taken a turn for the worse, and I find myself needing to prioritize my health above all else.

With a heavy heart, I've made the difficult decision to take a break from social media. While platforms like Feabie, Instagram, and Tumblr have been a source of connection, inspiration, and joy for me, I realize that they can also be a source of stress and distraction, particularly during times of illness.

As my flare-up intensifies, I need to direct all of my energy and attention towards self-care and managing my symptoms. This means stepping back from the constant noise and pressure of social media, and instead, focusing on rest, medication, doctor's appointments, and other treatments that are essential for my well-being.

Please understand that this decision was not made lightly. I cherish the relationships and community that I've built online, and I am immensely grateful for your support, encouragement, and understanding. Your messages, comments, and likes have meant the world to me, and I will carry them with me as I embark on this healing journey.

I also want to take this opportunity to raise awareness about ulcerative colitis and other invisible illnesses. Living with a chronic condition is not easy, and it often requires making difficult choices and sacrifices. It's important for all of us to prioritize our health and well-being, and to show compassion and empathy towards those who are struggling with their health.

So, while I may be taking a temporary hiatus from social media, please know that I am still here, fighting my battles, and rooting for each and every one of you. I promise to keep you updated on my progress, and I look forward to reconnecting with you all when the time is right.

Until then, please take care of yourselves, and remember to listen to your body and prioritize your health above all else.

#ulcerative colitis #ibd #colitis ulcerosa #social media break

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porta-decumana · 1 year

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The Last Light of Dawn, Chapter 7: One Path, One Burden Great - Updated - 2/15/2023.

Added:

Polish to certain scenes for story consistency.

“I’m here,” Kaida announced herself, resting her hands on her hips and glancing about the empty room.

“The next room over.”

His reply was half-shouted, its volume magnified by the cold walls. Kaida wandered towards its source, finding the solemn commander inside the next training area. A few dummies had been set out here as well, shoddily made with missing limbs. Gaius watched her enter and closed the door behind her, flicking the lock. The noise was loud and sent a spike of uncertainty in her chest.

Why would he lock the door?

Without caring to elaborate on the gesture, Gaius grabbed two practice swords from the rack and handed one to her, not even glancing her way. She took it into her hands, the weight of it strangely heavier than she was anticipating. Kaida was careful to not drop it but the tip threatened to jab the ice-ridden stone that made up their flooring. She hoped her newfound sparring partner did not notice.

“You locked the door on the way in,” the Raen pointed out as Gaius tested his practice sword with a few swings. “I did,” he responded calmly. “I thought it best if we were undisturbed.”

“Fair enough,” Kaida replied.

“… You thought I meant ill-will towards you,” Gaius said.

“I didn’t say that,” Kaida protested.

“You did not,” Gaius agreed. “Lady Asagiri, if I had wanted you to suffer, I would have left you naked in the Coerthan snow to freeze to death.”

Warmth infiltrated her cheeks, turning her skin a deep scarlet beneath her white scales.

“You do not have to say it like that,” Kaida mumbled. “You may call me “Kaida”, by the way. You do not have to be so formal.”

“If that is your wish,” Gaius replied.

#kaida asagiri #gaius van baelsar #gaius baelsar #tales;tllod #dark au #gaiuswol #angst #sparring #long post

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maknaesdancersrappers · 10 months

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YUPPPPPP JAEHYUN IS CONFIRMED TO BE A MAIN CHARACTER IN “6 Hours Later, You’ll Die.” WHICH IS LIKE A MYSTERY THRILLER apparently his character is a killer who pretends to be nice (and the cute thing is when dojaejung had a fancon here in manila, they were asked about what genre would they like to see jaehyun in and they said mystery because they wanna see jaehyun’s evil or creepy smile!!! they were teasing BECAUSE THEY KNEW omfg i’m so excited to see how jaehyun will act out for this role and i’m hoping that it’s his real big break for his acting career considering dear m’s difficulties because of her co-actress’ issue 😭)

2 major Ws for us today for receiving this news about jae and us receiving a devoted update 🥳 but i feel bad for being happy when you had the update as a distraction for what you’re going through. i hope you’re taking care of yourself despite what happened 🩷 i hope that u heal and feel better soon!

just some Qs!!! what are some things up for devoted now? are the questions for the characters still open? i remember readers sending in questions for the characters here!!! idk how to navigate that much here in tumblr so i cant tell but did you update last friday at 1:27? is that going to be a thing again? missed your active era omg i might as well be again too after your update 😭 i literally told my friend to stfu since i thought she was pranking me about a devoted update to get my attention lmfaooo

and if only you’re comfortable to answer and share! how are you, really? what have you been up to? just wanted to check on u since you’ve shared some life updates before.

sorry about this long ass message but i just wanted u to feel that we’re still here 🩷 i used to be a silent reader but i realized how much it means to authors when readers leave a message whether its short or a long one :) hope this one cheered u up! thank you again, rj!

i never watched dear.m bec my attention span wont let me

but thats so cool!! THE UNIVERSE REALLY SAID YALL LIKE PSYCHO JAEHYUN, HERE U GO ugh manifested me thinks

regarding OPEN FORUM, you can definitely send some in as always!!

for update schedules, i can't promise a proper timeline for it since i'm back to full time* but i can promise that i'll be writing more often now and will have it updated as soon as i proofread it!

will hide the rest of my answer since im gonna rant AHAHAH

as for my... well being, i guess -- i'm in a gray area at the moment. *i said i'm back to full time earlier because for the months of May and June, I asked to be a part timer since it's slow season for our company. but that also meant my paycheck would be cut in half. I'm not really happy with work right now since it's so draining (i work 10 hours/5 days) and i want to quit and look for work but im not in a position to do so (i have no savings bc of family medical issues). so im considering finding another source of income, but idk what to do really.

so ye thats whats been happening in mi life 😪 ill be fine eventually ^^

#replies #anon

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simisaint · 2 years

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I apologise and I hope you'll forgive me for using your simblr askbox for this but i just read your rants on your writing blog and I had to drop by. You can ignore this ask if it oversteps boundaries. I hope people can see n understand that writing fics is not your source of income and respect the fact that your office job is what gets your bills paid. I dont think they've got any right to say "leave the company" type-thing to you when they dont know the whole story, it's just unecessary advice-

I really hope people, instead of screaming at you to update SY with their pitchforks in the air, wait patiently for the update (WHENEVER u decide to do so) and at least empathise with your situation as working people/corporate slaves themselves. Im sure most of us are the same so I dont understand why some have the nerve to act entitled on the internet? I mean i get it that the story might be something they were looking forward to but god, its not just them who have lives separate of tumblr. (2)

I'm now ranting, I'm sorry but seeing you apologise for not updating SY when you already said you've put the series on hiatus till 19th May didnt sit well with me. I didnt think you needed to apologise when you've said time and time again that your promotion has left you with very little free time on your hands. Doesn't that clearly mean that you wont be able to update your fics as quick and frequent as SN got updated cause you literally don't have free time? Shouldn't people respect that? (3)

And shouldn't they respect the fact that free time doesn't always mean that you're gonna spend it all on writing SY?? Like, fuck i'm so fucking mad rn. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with entitled readers too who think that all your free time should be devoted to writing fics only. You genuinely sound so fucking stressed, frustrated and thoroughly overworked in your posts, Saint and I hope people fucking open their eyes to see it instead of being Seras and seeing only their woes. (4)

I do hope and pray you get your break and rest first cause i know you've got your personal reasons for putting yourself through this whole overworking ordeal and i'm no one to tell you what to do or not. I can just hope for your good mental and physical health and for your boss to not ask you to cover full shifts last minute when you've already worked full time for yours the entire week. Again, before I forget, PLEASE, update SY at YOUR pace. (5)

I've been locked in ever since u posted SN1 so im not leavin til' I get SY15 (OH WAIT, ill have to get off the roller coaster if u ever discontinue it, which is totally fine too! pls dont take that as me pushing u to finish sy T-T im sorry) Take your time with it. You're already risking your health over your job rn and u dont need to do that with writing- something that's your escape. ANYWAY, ive talked bs for way too long and i apologise if this all isn't coherent and for repetitive ask-ings. 6

it’s okkk and thank u, i appreciate u sm :’( i’m sorry you had to see me freaking out earlier. i’m truly just fed up and exhausted with my life outside of this web space. i only apologized for not being able to post frequent updates bc i want readers to understand that i’m not abandoning sy by choice. in fact, i get very veryyy sad that i can’t find the time to write it. i feel bad that i can’t even have proper conversations with my moots here and they prob think i’m ignoring them 😭 i also just came across this post where two of my readers are having an exchange abt how sy has slow updates and it’s making them lose interest and i was kinda hurt but i understand tbh sddjfjsjs but YOU, ILY AND I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING A WONDERFUL DAY. tysm for dropping by and for understanding my situation (ik i sound dramatic but aaaaaaa)

i’ll open anon on main so u can reach out there too <33

#[✉️] anon.

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thelegendofeowyn · 25 days

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There's this comic I LOVE called Crow Time.

The author, secondlina, often posts comics on Tumblr, but I couldn't find the specific comic I want to talk about, so here is the link:

In this comic, secondlina refers to will-o'-the-wisps as omens of death. I hadn't come across this characterization of wisps, so I did some digging, and found a couple things:

1. "Corpse-candles"

We hear the following from William Wells Newell:

"First may be mentioned the so-called " corpse-candles," supposed to precede and prognosticate a death. If luminous appearances of the sort issue from the room of a sick person, and are seen to enter the churchyard, it is taken for granted that the illness will be fatal, and that the sufferer will shortly be borne to his rest along the path followed by the apparition. The movement of the flame answers to that which may be expected from the living man; if the pace be brisk, as that of a youth skipping or running, the death of a child is indicated; if slow and even, of an elderly person. In this case the vision is, so to speak, a present reflection of the future event; inasmuch as it formerly was usual to inter by night, and in consequence torches or candles were borne by the mourners, such lamps belong to the funeral procession, which appears in an anticipatory reflex."

(Basically, that wisps appear as actual harbingers of death and light the way to the churchyard where a sick person will soon be buried after they die.)

2. Spirits of the Dead

I have found that wisps have also been called the spirits of the dead, with variations being

someone who tricked the devil and therefore could enter neither heaven nor hell when they died*

someone who moved a landmark

unbaptized infants

dishonest land surveyors

*There's a huge number of stories mentioning this phenomenon, so many that it is a folkloric motif (ATU 330).

So, the connections between wisps and death is strong enough that some people would say wisps have a stronger correlation to ghosts than to fairies. That's something I have encountered in a few of the abovementioned sources, but I feel like there's a lot more research to be done in that regard. I'm more than willing to take on that monstrous task!

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writing-class-projects · 1 year

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Documentaries Are the Only Reason We Are Alive Today

Humans have been documenting things since the start of their existence. Though, they likely didn’t realize it. A man dusting an image of his hand on a cave wall was probably done to simply claim it as his own. However, this is still a document, as it showed others who would see it later that he was once there. You could even call it an “artistic representation of actuality”, as John Greirson defines it. That’s just one of the first instances of human documentation. We would go on to make so much more, from the first documentations of danger, time, recipes, and language, to more modern things like Twitter.

The documentation of what could possibly kill you may be one of the most important developments of all humankind. I mean, certainly not many of us would be alive without it. If I didn’t know any better I’d eat loads of mistletoe berries, especially with the fear of starvation guiding me. It also looks delicious, but that’s besides the point. The point is, if someone hadn’t documented their findings of mistletoe being entirely poisonous, many would have fallen ill to it, or many similar plants. This is likely where a lot of the earliest documents started. The earliest humans would see others die from eating/drinking certain things, and avoid it themselves by taking note of the area/plant with some sort of sign. Perhaps a collection of oddly shaped sticks. As in ancient times, they didn’t always have written language that everyone could understand. Spoken word, sure, but writing didn’t come for a while. At least not on paper, and not with words. So, they used markings. These served as documentation of danger, a water source, a food source, or the way home. Everything essential for survival. It’s communication without directly speaking to another person, which is needed in order to survive for a long time.

Regardless of the type of document; the idea of information being recorded, archived, and shared is by far one of the most essential steps in how humans have evolved from ancient times. The ability to learn and retain information and to pass it on from generation to generation is truly what sets humans apart from the rest of the animal kingdom. From sticks on the ground to indicate danger to the formation of language and verbal communication, documentation has come a long way and has kept the human race alive and moving forward so that we can be here today, eating our McDonald’s and sitting on our soft beds, reading a Tumblr post about documentaries. Beginning with the first forms of writing, information such as maps, pictograms and cave paintings have helped people understand each other and the world they lived in. Furthermore the sharing of information and the formation of language gave humans the ability to learn, invent, and explore ideas that had been untouched until then. This would go on to inspire more thought and provide the building blocks to the modern world. As a friend of mine said, the only thing he thought may be more important than documentation would be, “the ability to obtain substance and maintain bodily functions”. Although a majority of the documents from the past no longer exist today, from what remains it’s easy to see the key role they played in the survival and development of the human race. Even now, documents protect us without us even realizing it. Our GPS location is updated and documented all the time on our cell phones. Without that, people may not know where we are when we need them to. Documents were able to keep our ancestors alive and are one of the key reasons we’re here today. They acted as markings and told time, they were shared and used to create a better understanding of the world. Without documents humans wouldn’t be here.

#documentaries #history #world history #survival #writing

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haroldgross · 2 years

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New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on http://literaryends.com/hgblog/the-munsters/

The Munsters

[2 stars]

I don’t know what drove Rob Zombie to remake this TV show, but here we are with an entirely unnecessary, if occasionally delightful, rendition of the Munsters. Honestly, I’m more of an Addams Family person anyway. The Munsters were amusing, but it was like enjoying The Monkeys instead of The Beatles…they both are fun but there is no comparison.

Zombie did capture a lot of the show’s sensibility, for good or ill, and even updated and pushed the envelope more than was possible when it aired. And Jeff Daniel Phillips was a great find for that purpose; he nails Fred Gwynn admirably. The rest of the cast does fine as well, but none are quite as spot on as Phillips. However, the most surprising cast member is Sylvester McCoy (Doctor Who) who clearly is there to have fun, but I’ve no idea why.

Need a complete escape and a bit of nostalgia? This will do. It isn’t a great story, a good film, or even all that fulfilling (it’s really a long setup) but it’s interesting if you know the source material. It also certainly tries to answer a lot of never explained aspects of the family.

#2stars #adaptation #Dark Comedy #indie #popcorn #YourChoice #Movie Review #Streamed only

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swamp-world · 2 years

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something that drives me absolutely INSANE about all of the ao3 budgeting discourse is the absolute zero nuance to matters on it. this includes my own oversights as well.

-prior ao3 volunteers have expressed having to work WAY more than their allotted volunteer hours without being paid for compensation (source? find.), which is pretty gross.

-certain things not happening (i.e. are they overbudgeting for servers and not actually spending that money?)

but like. two things.

one—im not trying to say that peoples’ criticism is invalid. i AM going to say that the level of scrutiny against ao3 is WAY higher on here than literally ANY other nonprofit. people are REAL worried about the fanfic website with a total estimated revenue of half a million/year, most of which is clarified in their budgets and audits, and at the same time do not seem to have any awareness or concern about other nonprofits or nonprofit structure and abuse in general

two—this is a take that i can’t believe i’m saying, but i’ve been. managing the finances on a (way way WAY smaller) nonprofit for the last six months or so. i’m not suggesting this is comparable. i am suggesting that ao3 does consultations and open chats with their finance committee. if things are not accounted for in the budget or audits, this is where you go to get your answers. you have an opportunity to ask these questions. you have an opportunity to find out. you have an opportunity to hold them accountable. their chat transcripts from their finance consultations and chats are publicly available on their website, directly on their finance pages. the reason i’m saying this is because after the last six months, i’m suddenly understanding the rates at which people will regularly “ask questions” about the budget and expenses when they get irritated, without participating or giving feedback on any of our budget consultations, without attending the open meetings to discuss it, ask questions, etc., without checking over previous agendas and meeting details to see if the info is there. i’m not promising it will be. i’m saying that a lot of the “ohohoho ao3 is secretly storing away money” rings really hollow when people write up long posts about “ao3 spent only 3/4 of what they anticipated on server updates this year, WHERE is the rest of that money?” when their budget and chat info all explicitly says “yeah we might be deferring some of this to next year depending on our actuals, keep an eye out at our next quarter budget update to see”.

three—nonprofits aren’t supposed to make profits but that doesn’t change the fact that with nonprofits, notorious for running on such thin margins, sometimes you can’t do everything you want in a single budget year. sometimes that means setting aside part of your revenue to save up for something more cost-effective next year. something I think people keep forgetting is that things take time. i’m not saying this to blank-slate and hand-wave any ills of ao3. i will say that like. holy shit. the whole “why do they have these expenses? they don’t pay anyone” when their stuff straight up says “we’re going to be contracting other groups to do this work for us” because they do need that work to be done and there’s no way it could happen in any timely manner on a purely volunteer-run basis. that’s where the money is going. that’s part of it. also, that’s going to take time, that’s not going to happen immediately. the duality of this website getting outraged at the labour abuses and time crunches for shitty output with things like Cyberpunk 2077 and saying “take time to make a good product and not abuse your staff” and then turning on a dime to say that “ao3 hasn’t done anything at all in the last three months regarding this recent issue” as if we haven’t already established the extremely disproportionate amount of scrutiny that they’re under compared to other nonprofits and groups, or wherein the places that are able to make those changes in an extremely tight turnaround are. you know. for-profit businesses.

anyways i’m just. i’m just tired. i need to have the budget ready for this week. i’m so tired and i’m looking at other budgets to avoid having to look at this one myself.

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torahtot · 3 years

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6 @youwerefromohioandimissyou // 7 Sweet Mother by Sappho // 8 Meg Allen // 10 Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg // 11 Alison Bechdel // 12 Why I Love Butch Women by Carol A. Queen // 13 Kael T Block // 14 The Girl That I Marry by Lisa Ben

TERFS DO NOT TOUCH THIS

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gyucore · 3 years

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SHELTER: STARTING LINE

pairing: ot5 x reader (individual endings + true end)

chapter tags: zombie apocalypse au, angst, mystery

synopsis: an unknown illness has rapidly spread throughout the world, taking down nearly the entire population and turning them into mindless vessels of death and chaos. in the midst of the rubble, you and your partner find a notice of a safe zone, and are taken in by a small group of survivors. you only have to hold out for seven more days until rescue arrives, but danger lurks at every corner, and not everyone can be trusted.

warnings: mentions of blood, gore, profanity, character death

word count: 3.8k

update: changed D-1 to starting line. the next chapter will be titled D-1 instead

master post | D-1

Up until now, it never really crossed anyone's mind just how much the world can change in the span of three months. Bright and busy streets that were once filled with people of different shapes and sizes, each living their lives the way they're intended, were now dark, empty, and uninviting. Garbage and rubble littered everywhere, and nature had taken over most of the run-down buildings. What used to serve as homes for many were now hollow shells of forgotten memories. And areas that'd been avoided at all costs became shelter for those seeking refuge, be it a dark cave in the middle of a forest, a series of tunnels hidden beneath the local town plaza, or the rotten sewers of the downtown area. Anything to not receive unwanted attention. If it weren't for the looming threat of danger present around every corner, the world would've been a sight to behold.

The downfall of mankind at the hands of an unknown illness. It had spread at an alarming rate, faster than renowned experts could ever have predicted. Endless efforts had been made to pinpoint its source, take note of its effects, and prevent it from spreading any further, but before they could yield the results of their research, the sick started acting strange. Two weeks after getting infected, the patients started behaving erratically. They've refused to eat their meals, lost their ability of coherent speech, and have had their mental capacity regress to that of a toddler. A week into their strange behavior and numerous reports flooded in left and right about how they'd start viciously attacking anyone that came within a certain range.

A child could piece together what's going on, and a good portion of the populace were well aware of what was to come. An illness that strips a person down to that of a wild animal, erratic movements, and accounts of vicious attacks; the whole situation sounded like the start a film one would pay to see on the big screen at weekends, except this was real life. It had already been too late when the horrific realization fell on everyone.

“I don't think we should do this.”

You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of someone's voice up front. It hadn't occurred to you that you'd been staring blankly at the moss covered floor for quite some time. “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, getting up from your seat on the ground.

Sunlight shone through the cracks above the sewers, illuminating the person's face. “I said, I don't think we should go through with the plan.” It had been Beomgyu who'd stepped up to oppose this month's supply run.

“Why? Is there a problem with the plan?”

Beomgyu looks down for a moment, briefly avoiding your gaze to collect himself and find his resolve. He wasn't one to go against your decisions. After all, you'd never failed to take into account everyone's well-being in crafting your plans, and none of them have failed the group thus far. But this one just felt.. off.

“It's too dangerous.” Beomgyu says with clenched fists, eyes full of conviction. “I know we're basically out of rations at this point but we've never done runs like this before. What if something bad happens to one of us?”

“I've thought this over a hundred times, Gyu.” You tell him, eyeing the rest of your group on the side in concern. “You've seen it yourself during our last scouting, right? There's barely any resources left around these parts of the city. The only way we'll be able to survive until our next relocation is to raid the nearest mall.”

“We could scout the area again.” Beomgyu insists, not letting his gut feeling slide. “We could find some other ways to get our hands on supplies without risking everyone's safety. You and I know the hordes prefer dark and wide spaces. There could be hundreds of them in there.”

“We'll take the risk.” A hand makes its way to your shoulder. You turn and see the rest of your group, Suhyeon and Sungjae, the hand belonging to the former.

Beomgyu frowns at the others' approval. You hold his hand and smile in attempt to reassure him, and for a moment, the two of you stare each other down. By the frightened look in his eyes, you could tell he was scared. And you were too. Everyone was, all the time. And with that fear, the idea of giving up seemed to grasp at your fingers, but the group wasn't in a place to do so. Beomgyu understood that.

“Fine. I trust you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, giving his hand a little squeeze. “I won't let you down.” Was what you wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the courage to. You just hope things would actually go as planned.

Since the beginning, Beomgyu had always placed his trust in you. Both of you were broadcasting majors in college, and had taken most of your classes together. The first wave of attacks from the horde happened during one of those classes. It was of pure luck that you were seated next to Beomgyu that day. Quick on his feet, he'd instinctively grabbed your hand and dragged you to safety as he ran. And you've never felt so grateful your entire life. The gruesome sight of your classmates being ripped apart bit by bit had rendered you frozen in place. If it hadn't been for Beomgyu, you could've been one of them. And ever since that day, you'd vowed to survive together no matter what.

The group left the base around noon. It looked like it was about to rain so you urged everyone to move quickly. The last thing anyone wants was to have to navigate slippery grounds.

Getting to the mall took nearly half an hour on foot. You had the group go around, sticking to the edge of the forest. In the situation you encounter a horde of infected, the dense trees and greenery would provide great cover. Fortunately, there had only been a few of them wandering around the streets, making it easy for the group to evade and not engage.

Arriving at the mall, Suhyeon and Beomgyu proceed to scout the area, securing every entrance and exit. You and Sungjae stayed behind, reviewing the map of the mall by the main entrance.

“Don't you think it's strange?” Sungjae says, copying the map on her notebook.

“What?” You ask absentmindedly, drawing your own copy.

“Usually there'd be more infected lurking around. This is the first time we didn't have to fight them off. Kinda makes me paranoid lmao.”

Kidding aside, Sungjae had a point. Supply runs usually never went as smoothly as this, but no harm ever came with looking at the bright side.

“All entrances and exits secured. We're ready to go.” Suhyeon reports tucking her ropes back in her bag. Beomgyu follows behind, giving an affirming nod.

Sungjae passes down copies of the map, and you provide everyone with a final rundown of the plan.

“We split up. Suhyeon and Beomgyu, you take the second floor. Scale the building carefully. Sungjae and I will search the ground floor. Take only the essentials. Prioritize food and medicine. Take anything that can be used as a weapon as long as it doesn't slow you down. Leave the basement alone. That'll reduce the risk of running into one of them. Hear a suspicious noise nearby? Get the fuck out of there. Each floor has three exits and two emergency exits, go to whichever is most safe. I'll trust that Beomgyu and Suhyeon did their part in properly securing the exits. If anything happens, fire the smoke signal. If all goes well, we regroup here. Everyone clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then let's go.”

Beomgyu sifts through the stock room in one of the pharmacies, balancing a flashlight between his neck and shoulder as he grabs anything useful and checks for the expiration dates. Suhyeon volunteered to keep watch out front.

He couldn't seem to get his mind off of Suhyeon's words earlier. She'd told him about her suspicions regarding the lack of infected nearby. How there must've been something that caught hold of their attention long enough to lure them to another location. Possibly the work of other survivors. Either that or.. they're all having a grand feast at what used to be a group of survivors' hideout.

Beomgyu shivers at the thought. He'd rather there be no bloodshed, even if it weren't their blood being spilled. But if it had been the former, the ones possible for the distraction must've had a lot of reassurance on their side, and a goal in mind that needed the absence of hordes to be completed. Government interference? After all this time? Probably. They were the only ones capable of such a feat.

“Noise about five stores away. Slow pace. You done?” Suhyeon asks, popping out from behind and shining an extra light on Beomgyu's face.

He nods. “All done. Let's get out of here.”

One step, and Beomgyu freezes. His eyes go straight towards the number of ad posters plastered on the walls. It was possible. An important notice from the government spread around through flyers.

Beomgyu finds himself grinning.

There's a fucking safe zone.

Then the grin falls. There was no doubt you'd find out about the same information, but on what lengths you'd go to retrieve it has left him fearing for the rest of the group.

He turns to Suhyeon, face grim. “We need to find Y/N and Sungjae. Now.”

“The hell?”

The infected collapses on the floor with a thud, its head bashed up from the blow. It had been following you and Sungjae ever since you'd passed through the stock room in the grocery. You two managed to corner it in one of back isles.

“What's wrong? You okay?” Sungjae looks over at you, placing her bat down as she wiped off the blood on her arm. After asking, she notices your hands start shaking. You seemed so fixated on the bloodied piece of paper that fell out from the infected's mouth. She winces when you immediately picked it up. “I don't think you should be holding on to that thing any longer than you should.”

“Right, sorry. It's just..” You read through the contents thoroughly, repeating them again and again until everything just goes blank and an array of uncontrollable emotions started flooding in. “Sungjae..” Your voice cracks a little as you hand the paper over to Sungjae, holding onto her shoulder as she too reads the few words on the print.

T SAFE ZONE

ntact

tation

“Y/N, this is— You mean, we can finally..” Tears gather in her eyes as she clutches the paper for dear life.

You nod, letting go of Sungjae and readjusting your duffel bag. “We haven't gathered as much supplies as planned, but the ones we've bagged from this grocery should be enough. Beomgyu and Suhyeon can handle gathering supplies on their own. And I think we can both agree that what we need to do right now is to find out more information about this safe zone.” The torn up flyer obviously wasn't enough, and you were confident there were more nearby.

Sungjae agrees, placing the last of her haul in her backpack.

A crashing noise alerts you two, prompting you to ready your weapons.

“The noise came from up front.” Sungjae whispers. “Let's leave through the side entrance.”

You two got out of there quick, not wanting to aggravate whatever was wandering around in the front. The goal was clear.

“Find anything that could lead us to a flyer. Someone must've put them up, right? There has to be more around here.” You say in between pants, stealthily striding your way through the halls.

“Uh, Y/N?” Sungjae stops you as you pass by a bulletin board at the center of the mall. From the looks of it, flyers about the safe zone were plastered here, only that other survivors had gotten to it first, leaving a few useless scraps behind.

If only you'd gotten to it sooner, fists clenching at the thought. “Let's keep looking.”

The next few minutes were quick to pass by. All the running around, carrying heavy bags were starting to tire you down. Strangely enough, you hadn't encountered any other infected aside from the one in the grocery.

“Y/N, can we rest for a bit? We've searched the entire floor already.” Sungjae begs, exhausted. You remember how Sungjae had the lowest stamina in the group, although she made up for it with her knowledge in medicine and first aid. She's always been the one to patch you up.

“Maybe we should head back to the meeting grounds. Beomgyu and Suhyeon are probably waiting for us there. If they found any useful information upstairs, they'd surely tell us.”

You consider Sungjae's suggestion. She had a point. But the ticket to salvation was already right in front of you. If you'd search for a bit more, surely you'd find it. Scouting the second floor was a no go. All the stairs and escalators were demolished by a bunch of freak survivors called the Lost Boys, evident by the obscene Peter Pan inspired graffiti they'd placed on the floor near the rubble. A part of you wishes they'd have a shitty day ahead.

To go up from the inside, you'd need to scale the walls, and you weren't equipped for that. The only other accessible place you hadn't searched was the basement but that would be too much of a risk. You don't want Sungjae or the others getting hurt. On the other hand, if you were to go alone..

“Jae.” You turn to Sungjae, tone a tad too serious for the latter's liking. “Head to the main entrance and regroup with the others. I'm going down the basement to find more flyers.”

“What?!” Sungjae covers her mouth, realizing her voice had been too loud. Her next words come in loud whispers. “Are you crazy?! Did you skip your rations earlier? I can't let you go down there alone! You said it yourself, it's too dangerous! Think about your safety!”

“But still..” You can't let go of the feeling that you might find something useful if you just kept on searching. Hiding down below isn't exactly as safe as it seems, and resources were scarce. It's not just the infected you have to worry about but starvation and illness as well. The sewers weren't kind to survivors.

“Alright, alright. Fine. You crazy bastard. If you really wanna go down there then at least take me with you. Two heads are better than one or whatever.” Sungjae rolls her eyes as she drags you to the path leading downstairs.

“You sure you're okay with this? Suhyeon will kill me if you ever got hurt.” You try to free yourself from her grip but fail.

Sungjae snorts at your comment. “I can take care of myself. Just promise me we'll be in and out real quick, okay?” She gives your hand a little squeeze as you made your way down, and you can't help but smile. Having someone who's got your back made all the difference.

But if only you hadn't taken her.

“Shit!” Beomgyu shoots another infected down from afar. “Nine. Hey, Suhyeon, how ya holding up down there?!”

“Twelve! That makes all of them!”

Beomgyu clenches his teeth as he propels down. They were on their way down the second floor when the fire alarm went off. The blaring sound attracted a few of the infected near the area, but not enough to overwhelm the two.

The alarm could only one thing— you and Sungjae were in big trouble. Everyone had agreed on releasing a smoke signal when in danger. The appearance of smoke and its distinct smell would've alerted the other members of the group without attracting the attention of the infected. But setting off the fire alarm wasn't part of the plan.

Beomgyu and Suhyeon rush inside the ground floor, readying their weapons for an encounter with an infected but there weren't any around. Not a good sign.

“Now where the fuck are th—”

A piercing scream cuts Beomgyu off. Suhyeon could barely move when she recognizes the voice. “Please, no..”

Beomgyu places a hand over Suhyeon's shoulder. “It came from the basement..”

And with that, the two took off.

Beomgyu couldn't help but curse you in his mind. The basement was off-limits, and there was no way Sungjae would've decided to go down there on her own volition. It had to be you. He knew you'd be like this the moment you'd find out about the safe zone. Partnering up with you from the beginning would've been ideal, that way, he could've slapped some sense into your head when the time came.

“I know what you're thinking, but going around pinning the blame on someone won't get us anywhere closer to saving them.” Suhyeon blurts out as the two made their way downstairs.

She was right.

Beomgyu clears his head. The details could wait after the rescue. He just hopes he was fit enough to pull this off.

What awaited the two in the basement was a scene that could only be described as something straight out of a nightmare. There you were standing on top of a banged up display car in the middle of the floor, the flickering light of the fluorescent above you illuminating your bloodied figure as you shot the infected down one by one as they came crowding. Estimated, there were at least forty infected coming in from left and right, prompting Beomgyu and Suhyeon to stand their ground, shooting down the horde as they got closer.

Half of the infected had turned their attention towards the two, taking away most of the burden on your part.

But as the duo's eyes adjusted to the dark, your figure started becoming clearer. You weren't alone. Never should've been but Sungjae was nowhere to be found. Beomgyu could feel the blood draining from his face as he sees what it was you were clutching your arms, or rather, who it was. “Well fuck.”

“Sungjae!” Suhyeon cries out desperately, taking out her bat with her free hand and charging at the horde with both weapons, hoping to get to Sungjae as fast she could.

“Fuck. Suhyeon don't—!” Before he knew it, he'd lost sight of his comrade in the dark. All he could do was continue to shoot, but for how long? His eyes wander back to your figure, and couldn't help but wish it hadn't. He could make out Sungjae's state in your arms. At least, what's left of her. The look on your face screamed a thousand words and emotions. Regret, fear, grief; he couldn't really point it out. You looked like you were just about ready to leave the world behind at any moment, holding your half-eaten friend close.

Everything was in chaos. Beomgyu didn't know what to do anymore. The horde just kept on coming, and he'd thrown himself in this dangerous situation without thinking straight. How had you gotten yourself in this situation in the first place? Why did Sungjae have to die? How will they ever survive this? Beomgyu could only pray for a miracle.

And with the sound of the ceiling bursting, his prayers were answered.

The rubble crashes to the ground, burying most of the infected with it. Beomgyu takes this opportunity to shoot down the remaining few in front of him, maneuvering his way to the front in search of Suhyeon, hoping that his friend had made it through the nightmare.

To his horror, Beomgyu finds her body crushed beneath the rubble. “Suhyeon!” He hurriedly gets the debris off her but realized it had already been too late. She was done for even before the ceiling gave away. Her lower half had already been eaten. The dread slowly kicks in.

He could've stopped her.

She would've still been alive.

A barrage of shots forces him out of his thoughts. He stumbles as he looks behind, seeing the silhouette of two individuals, non-infected most likely, actively shooting at a few infected coming in from the distance.

Are we being rescued? He figures the whole ceiling mishap was their doing too.

Beomgyu's attention then shifts to you, finding his strength to run to your side.

The strangers alone managed to finish off the remaining threat, allowing the two of you some time to pull yourself together.

Beomgyu quickly holds his hand out for you to take, but all you did was stare back at him in defeat.

“Beomgyu, I..” You croak, gaze wavering. “Sungjae..”

Beomgyu watches as you hold Sungjae closer to your chest.

“She's.. She's..” Your body flops down, the smooth surface of the car's roof making you slip. “It should've been me.”

Your words weigh down Beomgyu's chest. He couldn't even bear to look at you like this.

“Sungjae's gone, Y/N.” He whispers. “Suhyeon is too. I know all of this is hard to take in but we have to get out of here right now.”

Beomgyu offers his hand again, and this time, you make the move to take it.

“Better get your shit together fast you two.” One of the strangers calls out. “Your stunt with the alarm attracted all kinds of danger. There's more where these guys come from. If you wanna make it out of here alive, you better come with us.”

He was the taller one out of the two. Dark hair. Probably around your age. The same goes for his blonde friend.

The blonde looks over at the bodies of your friends and sighs. “Small group, huh? I know how you feel. But we can't bring them along. Too risky. We don't want a potential infected in our hands.”

“The jeep's out at front. We'll wait for you there, but I suggest you decide quick. Coming along is all up to you but we're not sticking around here for too long.” He adds.

Beomgyu looks to you, eyes pleading. You take one last look at your friends. Suhyeon and Sungjae. You vow to never forget this day, to never forget them, and to never forget what they've done. The object in your hand served as a beacon of hope, and a grim reminder.

“We're coming.”

“Smart choice.” The blonde nods, and the two turn around to lead the way.

You and Beomgyu follow after placing Suhyeon and Sungjae's bodies safely to the side, leaving behind your jackets to cover them up.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling as you stared at the crumpled flyer in your hand. Sungjae had sacrificed her life for this flyer, and Suhyeon for everyone.

Heavy rain pours endlessly from the sky as you got out, weeping for the lost. You hold on tight to Beomgyu's hand, earning his attention as he looks back. The gaze you shared was enough for you to know the other had been thinking the same thing. From this point on, you were to continue your lives not only for yourselves but for your two comrades as well, swearing to not let their sacrifices be in vain.

And if you could save a few more lives with this flyer, then so be it.

#tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fic #txt au #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai x reader

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dreadwulf · 3 years

Text

1. It Was There That I Saw You

He hears it over the radio that first time.

“The Blue Angel is down.”

One of those crummy broadcasting setups that still run out of universities sometimes. Ancient amateur stations he picks up on the road while trying to plot out a route to the family compound around the Others. They announce sightings sometimes, rather like weather reports, or traffic updates. Undead on Highway 11, detour recommended.

The roads are clear that evening, and the drive is as quiet and peaceful as a biodiesel vehicle can manage, except for the news on the radio.

"The Blue Angel is down, and our world grows a little bit colder and darker," the radio man says.

Jaime switches off the receiver. He shakes his head slightly as he drives the ungainly armored car along the winding road, peering into the dusk without headlights. The radio man doesn’t know the Blue Angel. He’s some punk kid, was probably at uni when the Others first attacked and hasn’t ventured outside since. That’s who still broadcasts these days, old student outfits barricaded inside their campuses. This kid doesn’t know the Blue Angel’s name, probably doesn’t even know she's a woman. He will pay him no mind.

But he leaves the radio off for the rest of the journey.

At the Rock he pulls the car into the oversized garage and erects the usual gates and barriers behind him to keep the Others out. These precautions he can do in his sleep now, and he hardly has to think on them. He is more fortunate than most, now - living in a walled compound in a walled city offers a stability most people no longer have, one that would have been unheard of not very long ago. It gives him a more uneventful life, even some creature comforts. It's also, in his opinion, dreadfully boring. Which is why he never stays for long.

His thoughts pivot around the voice on the radio. The Blue Angel. He gave her that name, years ago, before anyone knew her at all. When it was just the two of them on the Kingsroad, and she was hardly more than a kid herself. Does the kid on the radio know that? No, he assuredly does not. The kid on the radio doesn’t know anything.

His brother Tyrion will have heard the news elsewhere. He doesn’t listen to radio, wouldn’t have any reason to since he never leaves the compound. But he has his own sources.

His brother is the second person to tell him, when Jaime walks into the front office loosening his tie. As expected, Tyrion’s still working - it would be either that or reading, even when the house goes dark. Their generator only runs a few hours a day, and his brother keeps right on working by lamplight when the time’s up.

Tyrion has taken over the family business, as well as the mansion and all its high walls. That happened after the rest of the family had been wiped out, while Jaime had been away. Ironic that he had survived them all, considering he had been essentially left to die when the Others came. Like many of the sick and disabled, there had not been much provision for his physical difficulties as a little person and he had been left to fend for himself. Anyone who couldn’t defend themselves was SOL in that first year. How he had even gotten himself home from uni is a bit of a mystery to Jaime. By the time Jaime managed to get himself there, his brother was already gone, and it had taken them a very long time to find one another again.

It had been his brother’s cleverness helped him survive, not his big brother, to both of their disappointment. Said cleverness certainly keeps them in business now.

Tyrion probably hasn’t looked up from his ledgers in hours, but he looks up when Jaime comes in, and keeps looking.

“Blue Angel’s down,” Tyrion mentions casually, but he is watching him closely.

“So they say.” Jaime whirls off his long coat and throws it over a chair. He has to sit right across from Tyrion to get within the circle of lamplight.

His brother’s mind works just a little bit faster than other people’s. The software he runs on is a little bit sharper, and before you can quite get a statement out, he is already replying. He gets bored of the formality of all these extra words and niceties. He doesn’t quite realize how obnoxious this is. As a result, Jaime never needs to say much. Tyrion will have most of the conversation without him.

“You don’t believe them,” Tyrion surmises, pushing his papers aside. An ill-fitting pair of glasses slides down the end of his scarred nose, and he has to catch them before they can fall off. Even Lannisters have troubles with eyewear these days. “I know you think she’s indestructible.”

“Near indestructible.” Insolently, Jaime puts his feet up on his brother’s nice mahogany desk, which used to be their father’s nice mahogany desk. Something about this room makes him act like a rebellious teenager. “It will take more than an amateur disk jockey passing on rumors to convince me.”

“True, rumors have been wrong before. I’ve heard that you were dead too, when you rode the Kingsroad.”

They don’t speak much of that time. Tyrion hated that Jaime abandoned the family to serve as a glorified mailman for five years, as he calls it. Escorting people and messages across the dangerous countryside in the early days of the Disaster might have made his name, and eventually added to the family’s renown, but this personal betrayal his brother has never forgiven. What he really hates, of course, is that Jaime left him alone with their father.

Jaime lets it pass, jokes with him. “I probably started that rumor myself, at least once.”

“Don’t let this distract you,” he says. Tyrion’s mismatched eyes go back to his ledgers meaningfully. “Running Lannisport is enough work, without you running off all the time. We’re trying to bring the Riverlands into the fold. I need you on task, not obsessing over a girl.”

Jaime snorts. Tyrion can hardly lecture him on distractions. Little he may be, he has no trouble acquiring female companionship. He seems to have a different lady on his arm every time Jaime comes around. Sometimes two.

Tyrion rolls his eyes. “Don’t start. My girls are different. I’m not mooning around after them years after they’re gone. When I lose one, I find another. You need another woman, Jaime.”

“With me running off all the time? Who’s going to tolerate that?” Jaime is bored of this conversation already. They’ve had it many times before.

“Romantics. That’s who. You’re off risking your life to join the old nation together again, you’re a dashing hero. Plus the whole Kingsroad adventure. Women love that. You could be swimming in girls if you spared them half a glance. It’s been five years, Jaime.”

“Four,” Jaime corrects him. Four years, three months, and eleven-or-so days.

Tyrion says this more solemnly, looking over his glasses, “If the rumor isn’t true this time, someday it will be.”

He looks very much like their father when he does that, which is unwelcome. Jaime snatches his feet off the desk and wanders away to find something to eat, the big Lannister mansion resounding emptily around him.

He manages to avoid his brother until he can head out again - he rarely passes more than a night at a time in this house. He checks for messages, refills his supplies, gets a proper shower, all of which he can do in a few hours. Such safety he finds oddly uncomfortable, if he lingers too long. He’ll be leaving the next day, and out the door before Tyrion is even out of his bed.

The traveling, on the other hand, takes an age. Not even he travels very fast these days. The armored car, which is more of a delivery truck, doesn’t get over 50kph, and shudders and lurches at the upper end. Real petrol might perk up his engine, but petrol is rare these days, and he can refuel the biodiesel at most settlements now. So he drives slowly and is on the road almost constantly, and stops at Casterly Rock as infrequently as he can manage.

Soon Jaime is hearing the same rumor everywhere, in snatches. He travels through the guarded and gated villages of the Riverlands on a regular circuit, drives through miles of nothing between aettlements, edging around clusters of Others that still live beyond the city lights. As he exchanges goods, messages, and information, he hears of the Blue Angel. Edges of conversation, news bulletins, idle conversation with gasoline sellers. His hosts at Pennytree gossip over it at dinner while passing around the green beans.

Did you hear about the Blue Angel? Damn shame.

Jaime always agrees wordlessly. People still like to feed him, remembering his own time guarding the Kingsroad in the beginning of the new era. He hasn’t been the Slayer in four years, has been a politician-cum-envoy for far longer than he ever battled the Others, but he is far better known still for the former. Arguing with his hosts would be pointless. He just finishes his meal, salvaged canned goods heated over a campfire out back. In those early days, this would have been a feast. It’s still pretty good now. Vegetables are more and more scarce.

No one seems to know exactly what happened. He hears a few variations on it; the tale is different each time. Turned by the Others, haunting the Kingsroad where once she had been its protector. Crushed in the fall of a skyscraper in the Eyrie. Slain in battle protecting a school full of orphans from robbers. The details are in debate, but there is a consistent center. The Blue Angel is dead. It's a rumor still, but one with all the authority of the old King’s Landing Times newspaper, of truth. Everyone is sure.

But they don’t know her. Not like Jaime did. If they knew her they would not believe it so easily. They would need evidence. They would need a body, a grave. Otherwise it's just not realistic that she could be gone. He is not worried. He’s not.

Tyrion passes on the same news the next time he’s at the house. No particulars, but the same word from his own channels of information. No one knows how, but the Blue Angel is dead.

Jaime has little patience for it now. Without any details, it’s still only a rumor. A remarkably consistent one, to be sure. But not enough to know for certain. He doesn’t even stop in the office, claiming exhaustion, avoiding conversation.

Tyrion finds him anyway.

“If you really wanted to know, you could ask The Spider.” His brother suggests late one night, startling him awake. “He could give you the whole story.”

Jaime had been dozing in an armchair in his own study, unwilling to go to bed and too tired to stay awake. He rubs at his left eye and yawns. “What time is it? You’re the only person I know who still wears a wristwatch.”

Tyrion looks worried. He stands there a long time waiting for him to answer.

“I don’t want to know,” Jaime mumbles sleepily. “Really I don’t.”

“Try to get some sleep, Jaime.”

In the bathroom mirror he has a few more gray hairs than before, visible even in candlelight. Before long there will be more gray than blond. He pulls them out one at a time.

It’s too bad he can’t pluck the laugh lines away from his eyes the same way. He hasn’t laughed in a long time now. They feel unearned.

Everywhere he goes for a week solid, it's a funeral. Holly branches along the road, and stray, somehow-preserved flowers. Bars full of black coated mourners, drinking morosely.

It irritates him. Makes him grind his teeth. He shouldn’t resent these people. He knows it’s irrational to feel this way. But what do they know? How dare they mourn? What have they lost? A legend, a leader, a hero? They don’t know the woman behind the stories. She is so much more than that.

For some reason it is the graffiti that finally gets to him. Seeing it written gives it permanence. Someone felt the need to document this, on a building, for all to see. First in an alley in Riverrun - written in an electric blue that seems to float over the dull brick of the building. “Blue Angel RIP,” it says, and it sears into Jaime’s vision. He sees it every time he closes his eyes.

Before long the makeshift walls around Raventree are covered in mismatched sprays of blue, the neat and professional swoops of seasoned graffiti artists alongside the amateur efforts of random passers by, all offering their tributes. At the center of them all is a portrait, as detailed as an oil painting rendered in spray paint, of the Blue Angel’s long cloaked form standing over smaller figures in protection. She’s holding her favorite weapon, a solid titanium baseball bat.

He stares at this portrait for a long time. It’s very good. She must have passed this way at some point. You can’t see her face, but she mostly keeps it covered anyway. This artist captures the way she stands, the gesture of her long, elegant fingers. This artist saw her, at least once, for certain.

It’s so strange. All of these people feel like they know her, that she belongs to them. And it’s true in a way. The Blue Angel belongs to everyone, she really does. But Brienne... Brienne belongs to a very few, if anyone, and if anyone then he is certainly one of them. And he knows she cannot possibly be dead. He knows it.

He stares at the graffiti portrait until his vision blurs and he can’t see anything anymore.

Jaime cuts off the rest of his circuit after that. Drives back to the Rock, as slowly and deliberately as ever, always watching for Others that he could be leading to the compound. In the house he stays only an hour. Packs a small bag and leaves the keys to the car on Tyrion’s desk, along with all his dossiers on the Riverlands, and his appointment book.

Then he takes out his motorbike and drives it across the Riverlands, wastes precious petrol cruising the old highways dodging the snarls of abandoned cars. Tries to outrun the news. The wind blasts through him like a cold knife. He uses up one of his few remaining chargeables to get an mp3 player playing again, painfully loud, the heaviest music he can find. Hailstorms of guitar riffs assaulting him through the earpiece. He rides until his face is numb from wind and his nerves are rattled and brittle.

The Spider’s lair moves between rest stops these days. King’s Landing is still too dangerous, overrun with Others, and he likes to be off the map. Jaime checks a dozen highway offramps before he comes across the black RVs he is looking for.

He leaves the bike some distance away, as is the custom. The sound of a motorbike will bring Others running from miles away, and it’s impolite to lead zombies to people’s front door. Jaime walks the last mile in darkness, quiet as he can. He should have brought more weapons than a single pistol. He didn’t really think this through. But if the Others came to investigate the bike, he does not encounter them walking south, and before long the pavement opens out into a runaway truck ramp and a parking lot, and he can feel eyes on him from the line of trees beyond.

The Spider’s gang greets him with guns cocking, friendly as always. Black leather gargoyles. When they emerge from the shadows into the moonlight, Jaime puts his hands up and drops down to his knees. He waits for them to decide whether he can approach or if he has to move on and try again another night. He doesn’t hear them talking, but they communicate somehow, silently. He’s determined, over the years, that they use some kind of hand signals, but he’s never caught them doing it.

The mobile home is painted black, and it’s almost invisible in the night. The Spider doesn’t take visitors in the daytime. The gun at his back pokes him directly up to the door.

On the inside, the trailer is flooded with fluorescent lighting of the kind rarely seen anymore. After years of lanterns and lamps, it looks otherworldly. Dreamlike. The Spider, in his silk robe, seems to gleam in the artificial light, reclining on his cushion-covered couch.

“Slayer,” he says mildly, gestures for Jaime to sit in a chair opposite him. “It’s been some time. What brings you to--”

“If you know anything,” Jaime tells him flatly, staying where he is just inside the door, “you know why I am here.”

Varys looks at him with cool, calculating assessment. His bald head shines thoughtfully.

“I do. But do sit down, you’re upsetting my birds.” In their cages all around the room, crows shudder and caw. Their black eyes stare unblinkingly at the intruder. The bald little man gestures again to a cushioned seat welded into the trailer.

Jaime acquiesces only enough to take a few steps further into the trailer, standing over the Spider’s chaise lounge. Varys shrugs him off, not remotely threatened. He smiles up from his comfortable position as though it’s a deck chair at a beach, and Jaime is there to take his drinks order.

“That is a fine prosthetic you have there. I would never have known, if I didn’t know everything. The color is perfect, just perfect. Which one is it, right or left?"

The Spider doesn’t really expect him to answer. He knows that Jaime has kept a tight lid on that detail, so far. There are certainly people out there in the world who know for certain, and he will surely find out eventually, but the Spider has not gotten any of them to talk just yet. He will fish for the information just the same. It’s a reflex, at this point.

"Where in the world did you get it? I didn’t think they made things like this anymore, not to custom. But you’re a wealthy man again, aren’t you? Even after Armageddon, Lannisters stay rich.” The spider shows a sliver of teeth. “You would think that money and influence would mean nothing in the new world, but it isn’t so. We simply deal in different currencies now. Your brother realized that faster than most. Clever man.”

Jaime remains standing.

The Spider’s fingers drum his seat warily. “I, of course, recall how you helped me to escape King’s Landing. Have you come to call in this debt?”

“Is she dead?” He spits out the words like he will not taste their poison if he is rid of them quickly enough.

Varys hesitates. Just for a moment, but it is enough to make Jaime blanch well ahead of his answer.

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

Jaime’s throat tightens around the word. “How?”

“How else? The Others.”

Jaime takes one more breath, and chokes on it. He can’t get any more words out.

He turns and slaps his palms against the door of the trailer so that it bangs open and he is out into the freezing night again, running, past the blurry borders of the rest-stop and into proper forest, and when he cannot run anymore he drops to his hands and knees in the mud and opens his mouth and wails until he has no voice left.

His fists beat into the earth as though he can make it give her back.

When there’s nothing left inside him he gets up. Stumbles unseeing back through the forest. Raw and shaking, he pushes through Varys’ honor guard of former bikers, back into the Spider’s Lair.

Varys has not moved since he left him. He watches Jaime drop down into the chair opposite him as though it were only moments since he gave his terrible answer.

“Would you like to ask for your boon now?” the Spider asks.

“Yes.” Jaime leans forward. “I need weapons.”

***

Let me hold you in my arms dear

And let me melt in the heat of your gaze

And let the clock strike one,

Time and mind go marching on

Let our sense of selves decay

It was there that I saw you

In the heat of a summer's embrace

But as time went on

I wondered what went wrong

I wondered what became of you

“It Was There That I Saw You”, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead

#And You Will Know Them By the Trail of Dead #dreadwulf fic #braime #jaime x brienne

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ingeniousmindoftune · 2 years

Text

Revise - Prologue

Words: 1348

Slow updates.

Description: After the sudden illness cosuming his wife, Tommy, is left being a single father. He finds comfort in an unlikely love, his wife’s doctor.

Warning(s): This story is an interracial story, and as a writer I always focus on REALISTIC activities and what’s transpiring in the world. There will be some racial slurs, there will be some attacks that are racially motivated and so much more. This will contain mature content, as in vulgar language, some hardcore sex scenes (possible), some matters that go undiscussed. If you have any ideas, I won’t knock your feedback.

Taglist: For updates, please turn on notifications and to be apart of taglist, message or comment below.

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄 • // to make a new, amended, improved, or up-to-date version of.

Charlie Hunnam x Black Woman!

For updates follow my Instagram @author.tunietunee 💕

Prologue

After years of watching his wife battle her untimely battle with Cancer on and off, Tommy has needed a shoulder to cry on. For years, he found that comfort in an unlikely source. But, sometimes not everyone will agree. Tommy comes from a long line of wealth, his family were high-end mobsters with a certain code. A code he has to uphold.

“Tommy.” His wife calls out holding her hand out for him to hold as he laid by her bedside.

He took her hand in his and smiled softly. “Hi, babe.” He was happy to see that she had finally woken up. She had been sleeping alot after her last chemo session, doctors said the cancer was moving rapidly and they didn’t know how long it would be before she kicked the bucket. Of course they didn’t say that exact terminology but that’s what it was. He got tired of waiting around and watching his wife suffer like this. Deep down, he wanted to take her out himself to spare her this pain, a slow agonizing death.

“I missed you,” She smiles.

He leaned up planting a kiss on her forehead, her lips were becoming chapped again, many days she would never let him see her without her ‘face’ as you call it and here he was, seeing his wife for the first time without caked up make-up. Lily was always little miss perfect, she wanted everything perfect. Together they shared one child, a son, his name is Ricky. He always hated that name but it was what his wife wanted so he never fought it. That’s his thing, he always agreed to whatever with the women in his life, so much so to the point he took her word for it when she said she was okay. It took her passing out, for him to find out the truth. He felt like less of a husband, “I missed you too.” He smiled, planting a kiss on her knuckles.

“God, I hate having you see me like this.”

He glanced up at her, a warm smile leaving his face. “I don’t care about all of that and you know this, all I care about is you.” She smiled softly. “Hey, if I don’t fight this thing, Don’t be afraid to remarry just choose wisely okay? Maybe someone is as good as me?” Her quiet southern accent drawled. He chuckled and pecked her hands a couple times. Sure he and his wife had problems but they had been through the ringer together, there wasn’t another woman in sight who could touch her. He loved her so much. They were high school sweethearts, and continued dating after he took over his inheritance at eighteen. From there, they married and have been together ever since, they were supposed to grow old together so in this sense, it hurt like hell. His only love was dying, and this was one thing he could not control. Their son laid rested on the hospital couch, unsure about what was really going on. He wasn’t prepared to tell him that mama may not be coming home.

Christmas was right around the corner, around this time she would be all jolly and merry. She was a Christmas Junkie. And to see her like this, all down and out crushed his soul.

“Now, you know I could never love another woman.” He smiled at his wife, pulling the scarf that was on her now bald head, most men would’ve left when time got hard, but he wasn’t most men. He was a little rough around the edges but he was different whenever it came to women, he was more understanding, nurturing and loving. Sure, he has a temper tantrum that rolls out sometimes without him trying but he was never abusive. He always walks away if he feels he can't control himself.

She smiled weakly. “Let’s be realistic, Tommy.” She moved her head slightly so he had her undivided attention. “I love you, I don’t want to see you with another woman but, let’s face it. I want you to be happy. And, I don’t want you growing old and alone. I know we promised it would be us but it’s not and no matter how hard you will try,” She coughs. “You will find a love that’s worth fighting for.” There was a knock at the door, He glanced over at his wife before yelling come in. In came one of the second most beautiful women he had laid eyes on, but he was far too focused on his wife to actually see that. “Hi, how are you feeling today, Mrs. Hannam?” His wife smiled. “Just fine and dandy, how are you?”

Little did he know his wife had already picked out the perfect woman for him. And her name was Devanity Roe. Her doctor. Devanity was top at every single thing she’s ever done. Being Latina and Black, she had a lot of obstacles she had to bulldoze through.

That combination alone, a lot of people didn’t care for. She was thirty years old, she had a four year old daughter with her ex-husband who was actually another highly respected doctor on this floor. She had been single and dating for the last two years. Although their divorce has been silent, since it was still pending… She felt ashamed, out of all the things she accomplished. She couldn’t keep her marriage together. Of course she waited til she was at the top of her class and the top surgeon before she even thought twice about going public with her husband.

She made sure the world knew that SHE was the reason for her own damn career. But then again, she never cared what the world thought of her. Because at the end of the day, she wasn’t there to please them.

She was smart and heavily educated. She had all of her doctorate degrees, masters, bachelor and phd. She was not your typical woman either and that’s what Lily liked about her. She was the perfect woman for him, no matter what his family had to say about it. And she was doing whatever to prolong her life. She had Lily’s respect and that was hard to get.

But of course she would never get around the chance to tell her husband about her little choice.

“I am doing good, Mrs. Hunnam,” She smiled at Lily, grabbing her chart, “How are you Mr. Hunnam?” Tommy looked away from his wife and for the first time, he actually saw the beauty his wife would go on and on about. “I’m good, thanks for asking, Could I possibly trouble you for some ice for her lips?” Devanity nods her head. “Of course.” Walking over to her side, she checked her IV and morphine drip. “Are you still in pain, Lily?” Lily was but she was done with all of these pain killers, she just wanted her last few moments to be pure, she didn’t want to sleep away. She wanted memories to take with her. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Devanity placed her clipboard to her chest, “Okay well if you are in pain, I need you to let me know. These last few moments are highly crucial and I just want to make you as comfortable as I possibly can.” There was another knock, the door slightly opened revealing Devanity’s husband, pending husband we should say, “Devanity, when you have a sec, I would like for you to be my second on this operation.” Devanity nods at him, turning her attention to her patient. “I will send one of my nurses in with your ice. Just please, let her know if you are feeling uncomfortable.”

Lily nods her head at the stunningly beautiful woman, her mocha toned skin glistened under the hospital lights. Her fro was up in a slick ponytail today and she wore light makeup with a simple toned lipstick with a glossing coat. She was too beautiful for words.

In fact you could say Lily was a little envious of the woman’s unmatched beauty.

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