#I think this is the first time I"ve drawn him and posted it???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esther-dot · 3 years

Note

Thanks for the reply! I always seen that Ned didn't know Cat in the beginning of their marriage so he had no reason to trust her for keeping Jon parentage secret. But what about the rest of the time when he started loving her? He could silence her on asking if ashara was Jon mother using his power but don't trust her enough to share important information. If he trust his friend to keep it secret surely he could trust his wife who he claims to love knowing it's hurting her

(continuation of this convo)

I'm really glad you came back, anon, because I should have included this quote to defend Cat's honor, I just didn't think of it before posting:

When the last of Edmure's foot had shuffled under the portcullis, Brienne asked, "What shall we do now, my lady?"

"Our duty." Catelyn's face was drawn as she started across the yard. I have always done my duty, she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord father had always cherished her best of all his children. Her two older brothers had both died in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to Lord Hoster until Edmure was born. Then her mother had died and her father had told her that she must be the lady of Riverrun now, and she had done that too. And when Lord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for making her such a splendid match.

I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned's face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty. (ACOK, Catelyn VI)

First, holy shit. The way this passage makes me feel for her! But I think this shows how absurd it is to claim that if Ned told Cat the truth she would have turned around and told LF. She does her duty. Look at how loyal she was to Brandon, her betrothed, to the extent that she ignored LF, burned a letter he sent after Brandon’s death without reading it and didn’t see him until AGOT, and they're trying to argue after she marries Ned, after she has borne his heir, this self-described creature of duty, would up and run to LF in defiance of Ned? I don't think so.

That's a better answer than my first one! Anyway, in response to this ask, I would say that there's the in-world explanation (the character's reason) and then the author's reasons. Ned was deeply disgusted and traumatized by the slaughter of Elia and her babies. Not only did he consider it morally abhorrent, it’s terrifying because of Jon’s identity. Ned’s fear isn’t a vague “I don’t know what will happen if my secret gets out” thing. It's active fear because he knows what will happen to Jon if it does. I guess if Robert were Ned-like, had punished Tywin for the atrocity, that could have changed things, but Robert not only didn't, he never moved on from his hatred of Rhaegar and Ned tells himself that Robert wouldn’t hurt him and then immediately reminds himself that “Fifteen years dead, yet Robert hates him as much as ever. It was a disturbing notion...” (AGOT, Eddard VIII). That’s clearly indicating that he isn’t sure Robert wouldn’t if he knew what Ned had done. Not only that, but all these years later, at the beginning of AGOT, Robert is worried about being overthrown and ok with the idea of killing teens to protect his claim. Ned's fears can't subside because Robert's hate and concerns haven't:

There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. Do you forget how many houses fought for Targaryen in the war? They bide their time for now, but give them half a chance, they will murder me in my bed, and my sons with me.

If the beggar king crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back, the traitors will join him." (AGOT, Eddard II)

The situation hasn’t changed, the danger they’re all in if the truth comes out is still very much alive. Ned has no option to keep it secret from the person who was there with him when he found Lyanna, so it isn't a fair comparison to say "That guy knows, did he trust Cat less?" That guy knew before Ned even knew what to do. I would love to know if he advised Ned to take a different approach to hiding Jon’s identity or if they agreed this was the best idea/how all that went down, but by the time Cat found out, Ned had made his decision to claim Jon as his bastard. There was no retracting that lie. The choice was to involve her in treason or keep her in ignorance.

I really don't have a clear enough picture of pre canon dynamics to know what (beyond Jon's death) Robert would have demanded if the truth came out:

After the Battle of the Bells, when Aerys Targaryen had stripped him of his titles and sent him into exile in a mad fit of ingratitude and suspicion, the lands and lordship had remained within House Connington, passing to his cousin Ser Ronald, the man whom Jon had made his castellan when he went to King's Landing to attend Prince Rhaegar. Robert Baratheon had completed the destruction of the griffins after the war. Cousin Ronald was permitted to retain his castle and his head, but he lost his lordship, thereafter being merely the Knight of Griffin's Roost, and nine-tenths of his lands were taken from him and parceled out to neighbor lords who had supported Robert's claim.

(ADWD, The Griffin Reborn)

I think Robert would have overreacted and then regretted it, but what would the initial reaction be? What would the calmer final decision be? Would Ned have been sent to the Wall? Would Robb have been allowed to inherit? Would the treason have been too great, so personal, that Winterfell wasn’t passed on to his son? Would Robert have been in such a rage (or would someone have taken it upon themselves) that he would weed out future traitors by eliminating the next Stark generation? Idk any of that, but we do know Ned’s fears aren’t baseless.

These concerns Ned would have to impress upon Cat if he shared the truth with her. Jon’s identity becoming known isn’t an option. I'm not saying it's a kindness he didn't tell her the truth, I do wish she knew he never betrayed his vows to her and I think she would have offered him good advice, but that's a hellish life. Imagine reading Robert's arrival and visit had she known. Not knowing allows her peace of mind that she wouldn't have otherwise, and maybe that's what Ned told himself. After they came to love each other and trust each other, perhaps he thought that maintaining their workable status quo, however painful to Cat, was a better option than forcing her to live with the fear he had.

That’s personal specualtion obviously, Martin’s canon explanation is this:

To her credit, Cersei did not look away. "He saw us. You love your children, do you not?"

Robert had asked him the very same question, the morning of the melee. He gave her the same answer. "With all my heart."

"No less do I love mine."

Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would. (AGOT, Eddard XII)

I don't think there is any reason to believe that Cat would have revealed Ned's secret without cause. But, Ned's fear is that if there was a scenario in which sacrificing Jon would save her children, she would. I'm not sure what that scenario would be, but that seems to be the offered why. Knowing R+L=J, I think it makes more sense that this idea popped into Ned’s head (if he fears this now imagine how much more would he fear her actions if she knew Jon was Rhaegar’s son) It isn't about not trusting Cat though, Ned does. He expects her to not only help run the North while he is gone, but asks her to see to matters to prepare the North for war when she comes to KL. He isn’t that talkative, but the impression I had was that he trusted her with all things, except Jon’s identity. The author tells us (in retrospect we realize what this is about) that loving and trusting a person doesn’t mean you’ll tell them all your secrets:

The truth he sought might very well be waiting for him on the ancient island fortress of House Targaryen.

And when you have it, what then? Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust. Ned slid the dagger that Catelyn had brought him out of the sheath on his belt. The Imp's knife. Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? To silence him, surely. Another secret, or only a different strand of the same web? (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

It isn’t about not loving Cat, he clearly does.

Ned kissed the tears from her eyes before they could fall. "Thank you, my lady," he whispered. "This is hard, I know." (AGOT, Catelun II)

He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran. (AGOT, Eddard II)

The new king would choose his own Hand. Ned would be free to go home. The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran's laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn. (AGOT, Eddard XIII)

It hurts so much, she thought. Our children, Ned, all our sweet babes. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb . . . Robb . . . please, Ned, please, make it stop, make it stop hurting . . . The white tears and the red ones ran together until her face was torn and tattered, the face that Ned had loved.(ASOS, Catelyn VII)

Ned may not be forthcoming, but he is tender with Cat, concerned about her feelings, wants to comfort her, longs for her even after fifteen years of marriage, and I just include that last quote to point out, not only did he feel these things for her, Cat knew it. She knows he loves her. He wants to go home to her and lie in her arms and raise more children with her. If anything, he feels undeserving of her since she, like Winterfell, was meant for Brandon. It's simply fear that urges him to keep silent, fear of what love makes us capable of. Ned not telling Cat isn't the indictment of Cat people want to believe. It's fear of the consequences of what he did, and fear that comes from knowing what mothers do for love of their children. And, we see what Cat is willing to do for her children repeatedly throughout the story. Again, I'm not sure what the scenario would be that would ever require or allow the sacrifice of Jon for the Stark kids (that puzzles me), but that’s what Martin gave us as his explanation. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Another thing I neglected to say in my previous answer is that Ned keeping Jon in Winterfell wasn’t evidence of his total disregard for Cat’s feelings. Kinslaying is the worst thing you can do in their world but it happens, so Jon growing up amidst the Starks meant he not only knows they’re relatives, he loves them as his siblings. We see this play out in the books. Jon refuses over and over to take from his siblings, and yes, it’s his own principles that won’t allow him to, but if he didn’t grow up with Ned as a present father figure, if he didn’t view Robb as his best friend and feel totally accepted by Arya, his self-denial would be much harder to maintain. Ned knows loving siblings because they’re family even if you don’t have a close bond with them, and loving someone who isn’t as if they were (Robert) because you have a genuine bond, a shared history. I think he likely justified his decision to put Cat in that position as a necessary evil, not only to protect Jon (by claiming him as his son), but also to protect his own children, by not allowing the bitterness of being a bastard grow in Jon without the mitigating factor of loving his half-siblings. I really like Ned, so it’s definitely possible I’m being too sympathetic with his decisions, but considering the Targ history...I think it’s possible there was a thought process in his decision that was far more in-character than “idgaf.” Martin just can’t spell everything out directly without giving away his surprise.

And that brings us to the author’s purpose, and the real answer which is, Martin is preoccupied with writing conflict into relationships.The messier, the better. I think he always wants to find where love hurts and press his thumb on it. It crops up everywhere. I mention this a lot because fans (myself included) like to collect grievances for our favs and hate characters for their sake (which is fine/fun at times!), but I think we miss out on what Martin is doing if we go too far with it. Martin doesn’t want anything to be simple, so he tries to prevent relationships from being too easy/comfortable as part of it. Conflict to him doesn’t mean a character doesn’t love the other, it’s just how he chose to approach every aspect of this story. Also, writers have to guide the reader’s experience. They need to give us enough to ask the important question, and enough to misdirect us if they aren’t ready for us to guess the answer. Ned not telling anyone the truth means that in different POVs we’re getting different possible answers as to who Jon’s mother is, and Martin clearly wants to slowly unravel this mystery, so only having one POV character who knows the truth, and having him die in the first book, well, that allows him to do that.

Cat not knowing places the mystery front and center, right from the beginning. In Cat's chapter we're told to wonder, "Who is Jon's mother? Why is her identity a secret? Why is the truth something that terrifies Ned?" I mean, I read Ned scaring Cat into silence and got upset for her sake, but the author intended to tell us how terrified of the truth Ned is. In the same moment that we learn how he scared Cat we’re told that’s out of character for him. Why is he so desperate for no one to speak of Jon’s mother? <- that’s the question the author wants us asking, not “what’s wrong with Cat?” Nothing is wrong with Cat, but there are very real, dangerous consequences for Ned’s decision. Part of this world is that the characters’ lives depend on the whimsy of the ruler, and it’s frankly, a horror show. I really enjoy rationalizing character’s decisions, and I think there’s reason to believe the things I mentioned are Martin’s explanations, but I think the truth is, it’s more about what he wanted to tell us, and withhold from us, than anything else.

#ask dot #<-- tag to filter if y'all don't want to read these!#catelyn stark #ned stark

45 notes · View notes

moved-to-void-kissed · 3 years

Text

Too Late to be Saved

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GF_jZevunsCA5QKPWXfaVO_OO61ZaAtxkzPdoJNJHUM/edit?usp=sharing

When Aqua and Aria reach the Dark Margin at the edge of the realm of darkness, they meet Ansem the Wise, who is quickly sought by Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. Aria angrily confronts the fellow Heartless, but finds herself unable to get back to the End of Sea before Riku and King Mickey arrive. (2351 words) Replaces the KH3 cutscene “An Unexpected Encounter” and changes some story events so that “Too Late” and “Braving the Darkness” no longer occur.

My first new piece of selfship writing on this blog, and oh boy is it a big one! I had a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it makes for a good read, haha ^-^

A transcript of the document is under the readmore! Reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated, since I was really happy with how this turned out, but they’re not required by any means~

“What is this place..?”

The blue-haired woman slowly walked forwards, marvelling at the sight before her. The endless dark caverns that she had wandered for so long had opened out to a clouded grey beach, lit by what appeared to be a glowing white moon above the horizon. The hard stone underfoot was giving way to soft sand of the same ash-like colour, as waves of murky water gently grazed the shore. It was an eerily tranquil place by the standards of all she had witnessed before, something her companion was quick to notice.

“There are no Heartless here.” she said. “I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be here, either. Aqua.. I think this might be the edge of the realm.”

“So, we’ve made it to the end?” replied Aqua, now making her way towards the shoreline.

“Yes, it would appear so. Whatever lies beyond this shore.. It seems less like part of the darkness, and more like something between dark and light. Something that doesn’t belong to either force..”

As her partner spoke, Aqua became aware that her voice was growing fainter. When she turned around, she saw that she had made far less progress towards the water, standing awkwardly some distance away with her wings curled around her body. She looked nervous, and unsure what to expect, yet the catlike ears poking straight up through her messy blonde hair showed that she was still as alert as ever, constantly listening for danger even in the silence of the new place they had stumbled across.

“Aria, it’s okay! We can keep going, if you’d prefer that. You look tense, and I don’t want you to be unsettled.” A worried expression flitted across Aqua’s face as she reached out to hold Aria’s hand - the sudden movement made her flinch in surprise, but she quickly and visibly relaxed as Aqua drew closer. When the two were standing together again, Aqua gently closed both of her hands over Aria’s, unfazed by the patches of open darkness that ran along them, and smiled as she looked down at her partner.

“Thank you..” she mumbled quietly. “I’m alright, I just- don’t know what to expect here.”

It was then that, behind the Keyblade Master, Aria spotted a hooded figure sitting some distance away, hidden by a black coat but appearing to gaze out over the barely-moving water. Though she still let Aqua hold her right hand, she slowly shifted to free her left and moved to stand at Aqua’s side in one fluid movement. Then she extended her left arm and a mass of dark energy enveloped the space beside her, dissipating quickly to reveal a jagged dark red Keyblade.

“Identify yourself!”

Her shout echoed across the shore, leading the figure to turn its head and slowly stand up. As it started to walk across the sand, it removed its hood to reveal an older-looking man with piercing orange eyes and wispy light blond hair. He looked tired, and his face bore the wrinkled lines of worry as he observed the two Keyblade wielders.

“Please, stay your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

Aria wasn’t overly convinced, but she could see that the man did not have the strength to be a threat, so she lowered her Keyblade. Aqua was curious to find out more, taking a step forward.

“Who are you? How did you end up in this place?”

The man sighed wistfully, folding his hands behind his back. “My name was.. stolen by another, and I can feel this place taking its toll on my memory. I’m sorry. I know that I have only been here for a fairly short time, and that I was sent here by the destruction of the machine I created to encode Kingdom Hearts in data.”

“Before that..” He turned to look out over the water again, unwilling to meet Aqua’s gaze. “I caused a great deal of misery to many individuals, through both my recent actions and my previous research. It is clear to me now that I was deeply in the wrong about some of my original beliefs.. Now, I can only hope for a chance to atone for my deeds.”

“It’s alright.” Aria’s Keyblade had disappeared from her hand. “I can see now that your heart holds a true desire for.. repentance, or something of that nature. I’m not sure what the right word is, but.. The point is that you won’t be harmed, by either of us.”

“Yes, of course!” Aqua added. “I think you’ll be safe here, at least, since the Heartless don’t seem to come here. And, I can’t claim to know what you’ve done, but.. What’s important is that you recognise your mistakes, and that you want to make up for them.”

The man seemed relieved, and turned back to face the pair with a shadow of a smile on his face. “Thank you, both of you. I admit that I was not expecting to meet anyone else in this infernal prison. If I may ask, what are your names?”

“Oh, there’s no time for that now.”

A dark portal had opened up, and from it stepped an imposing and well-built man in a similar black coat. He had slicked-back long silver hair and similarly piercing eyes to the old man, though his were a cold golden colour. Aria’s eyes narrowed at his approach, as it was clear that he was a powerful user of darkness, though the true nuance was only visible to her.

“What- What’s going on?” Aqua asked, turning to face the man with suspicion. He ignored her for the moment, focusing only on the older man, who in turn was glaring fiercely at the intruder as he approached.

“You..”

“Master.. I must have a word with you.”

“Master?” he echoed. “So now you mock me..” The disapproval dripped from his voice like bitter venom. The interloper opened his mouth to respond, but-

“Leave.”

Aria had broken away from Aqua’s grasp and now stood defiantly before the intruder, Keyblade still in hand.

“Excuse me?” The man raised an eyebrow and sneered down at her, surprised by her actions.

“I know what you are, Ansem.” she snarled back. “I have known your power since before you even existed. A villainous Heartless with a natural human form - the one that took the title of “seeker of darkness” and is shadowed by a twisted dark figure. You think you’re so strong, but you are not the one who holds power here.”

This last statement had clearly struck a nerve, and Ansem’s expression of contempt soured into anger. “You’re certainly an astute one.. But what makes you think you could possibly face me?”

“Have your eyes gone blind as well as gold? If I can tell what you are, you can tell what I am. I have seen more than you will ever achieve, especially now that you’re afflicted with some other presence. That-” - she pointed up at his eyes - “-is Xehanort’s power, isn’t it? If you’re with him, that makes you our enemy.”

At this point, Aqua’s worried expression had returned. “Aria, be careful..”

“Aqua, get that man somewhere out of the way. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a problem.”

“You are a fool to challenge me, girl!”

An eruption of darkness burst forth from the Heartless, and the powerful frame of the Dark Figure rose up from his shadow. Aria quickly leapt up into the air, spreading her wings to soar over Ansem’s head as he lashed out. To deflect the residual impact of his outburst, Aqua summoned a Barrier spell, then started to help the old man escape once he had turned around.

The force of that initial burst - not even a targeted attack, merely an effect driven by the might of his anger - instantly made Aria aware of the strength Ansem possessed, and she knew she would have to be careful. Her advantage was agility, as the darkness she could draw from her surroundings to aid her flight was limitless. She darted out of his reach and flew up and away from the Dark Figure’s grasp, firing shockwaves of unearthly blue energy at both it and Ansem. The monster seemed unfazed, but Ansem himself was slowed down in his pursuit of her, only to then retaliate with a barrage of violet orbs, which Aria was able to flit between. At every twist and turn, she flew further away from him, enraging him even more as he was forced to give chase.

“What is this insolence?!” Ansem yelled. “You should be obeying me!”

“Does it look like that matters?” she replied, deftly evading another blast of dark energy. “I already told you - you’re not the one who holds power here. Even if you did, Ves’ presence is enough to protect me. I don’t care what you think you deserve!”

Another flash of darkness, this time from Aria herself - she had switched her Keyblade from its dark mode to its diamond mode, now shimmering with cold blue light, and enveloped herself in a shadowy aura to strengthen herself. Still soaring on her wings, their black feathers gleaming with energy drawn from the realm, she sent a rain of insightful flames down from above, then her Keyblade became electrified and she hurled it spinning towards him.

“Maybe you meant something, once. But now you’ve let yourself be taken over by someone who’s not even strong enough to control you completely. Take it from someone who knows - all that does is weaken you!”

“Enough of this!”

Suddenly, the Dark Figure wrested itself from Ansem’s shadow and lunged forwards into the air, followed swiftly by Ansem himself, roaring and surrounding himself with a wall of intense darkness. As Aria dropped through the air to avoid his charge, a blast of ice struck him from behind. It was Aqua, channeling magic even without her Keyblade to act as a conduit. The impact threw Ansem off-course, but the Dark Figure swept around and managed to grab hold of Aria.

“Agh!”

“Let go of her!” Aqua cried, trying to fire more magic without hitting Aria. Ansem’s attention remained focused on the Keyblade Master, while the Dark Figure tightened its powerful grip as if to crush Aria entirely. She desperately writhed and struggled, holding onto the figure with her right hand and trying to slash at it with the Keyblade in her left. After a few moments, it became shrouded in a dark mist, as if dissipating, and she was able to slip from its hold when another direct hit from Aqua made Ansem stumble.

Anger still pulsed through him like a poison as he shouted at the both of them. “I will not lose to an obstinate recusant and a lost guardian with no Keyblade to protect herself!”

Clearing the space around him by emitting a shockwave of energy, Ansem started to summon a massive crest of darkness above him, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. The Dark Figure was still clawing at Aria, as if enraged at how she had stolen some of its power to escape it, but she felt confident she would be able to evade the incoming blow. She could tell that he was not at his full strength anymore, and the intricate crest was already starting to lose its shape, contorting into a misshapen orb of raw darkness.

Then she saw where Ansem was aiming.

“Don’t you dare!-”

In the instant before the orb struck her, all Aqua saw was a flurry of feathers, and then came the dark impetus. Something fell from her sash as she was knocked to the ground, and she was only aware of something- someone- Aria being launched through the air above her, sent flying further back into the dark.

Just then, a shower of stars came soaring in from the direction of the otherworldly beach. Their light seemed to pierce through the darkness like a blade through fog, and Aqua couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope as she saw them strike the Heartless.

“Oh no you don’t!”

A familiar and determined cry from none other than King Mickey himself - the little mouse had leapt to the fray and brandished his Star Cluster Keyblade to help Aqua out. From behind him, another Keyblade wielder in plaid clothing was running towards them, carrying a sword of grey metal with ease.

Aqua recognised him immediately, even though he had grown considerably. “Riku! Mickey! Is it really you?”

“Gah..” Ansem staggered back to his feet, clearly injured from Mickey’s attack, and glared at them all in turn. “You have not won this.. You will not prevail!”

Another dark corridor opened up, then it was gone, and he was gone.

“I don’t feel good about letting him get away like that..” said Mickey. “Should we try and go after him?”

“There’s no time!” Riku exclaimed, his green eyes clouded with concern. “We need to get you out of here, Aqua, and bring Ansem the Wise with us, too. I don’t know how long the corridor I made will stay open for.”

“Wait, but-”

Mickey nodded at Riku’s words with a determined expression. “You’re right. I’m not leaving without you again, Aqua!”

All the while, Aria was desperately flying.

The light of all their hearts, and of the corridor, was blinding, especially for one so accustomed to the dark - but she kept racing forwards, using them as a guiding beacon. Sharp spikes of rock loomed down from the ceiling, as if the jaws of a monster were trying to consume her, to keep her trapped in the realm that had already held her for so long. No. She wouldn’t lose her. This would be her only chance to escape.

The lights flickered, once, twice, three times - and then it was all extinguished. Fatigue from her injuries mixed with overwhelming emotions brought Aria to the ground with a sob. She crashed to the floor just metres away from where her love had been so cruelly rescued, clinging onto what Aqua had so sadly left behind.

All she had left was a blue glass Wayfinder.

#third time's the charm..#a call from the void #creations from the void #selfship #selfshipping #love: wayfinding waters (aqua)#selfship: survivors of the dark (aqua/aria)#self‑inserts #self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#kingdom hearts selfshipping #this post is okay to reblog!#I hope that's everyone who wanted to be tagged! if i've missed someone off or tagged someone who didn't want to be then please let me know

33 notes · View notes

dorminchu · 3 years

Text

Insult to Injury: The Director’s Cut — Chapter 03

Fandom: James Bond Characters: Madeleine Swann, Lyutsifer Safin, OC(s) Relationships: Madeleine Swann & Lyutsifer Safin Warnings: PTSD, moderate language. Rating: M Genre: Crime/Drama Summary: A troubled psychologist desperate to escape her past criminal ties finds herself drawn into a far more insidious schism. [Post-Skyfall]

[Ao3 | FFNet]

— Episode III: HEDGEHOG’S DILEMMA —

Over the next hour, Madeleine’s initial animosity dissipated into tacit acceptance of the situation. Apart from the two unnamed associates, her and Safin, there were no other passengers. On paper, their route was straightforward. They'd stop at Genève, switch trains, be on their way to Sion. A five hour commute in total. Leaving roughly four hours to glean as much information as possible about her primary source of information.

At a glance she placed Safin somewhere in his early-to-mid-thirties. He had a soft face chipped away through years of ruthlessness—you could see it in his eyes, this kind of cold reticence that needed no introduction. The scarring threw off her estimate by a slight margin. He was dressed smartly, darker colours, blending in easily with any other first-class commuter except for the gloves. Madeleine, in a white blouse, grey wool cardigan to match her shoes.

“I'm curious. When you contacted the HR office and informed them I wouldn't be coming in, how did they take it?”

“They were surprised that you came in when you did, but ultimately sympathetic, given the nature of the situation. Your secretary mentioned that you're not one to take time off without prior notice.”

“Of course she would.”

“Would you like to know what they thought of you?”

As he spoke he watched her closely. “Diligent and well-mannered when it came to clientele. Aloof outside of an office setting. After graduating from two prestigious universities, you were still working at a public clinic. Your office and equipment were particularly sparse for a twenty-six year-old in the modern era. I imagine they thought you were in an inordinate amount of debt or else eccentric.”

Madeleine chewed on that for a few seconds. “That’s all well and good, but you cannot get all the nuances about a person from simple inference, or a background check.” Safin remained unreadable. “It was the secretary who told you all this?”

“In this profession, people provide me a lot of information I don’t ask for. I’ve learnt not to take it personally. You’d know what that is like, I’m sure.”

“I suppose so.”

Sunlight beamed on the side of her head, warming her past the point of languid ease. Should've picked the aisle seat. Trapped by her handbag at her ankles; burner phone, wallet, spare cosmetics, and a custom holster for a gun she hadn't touched since moving in with Arnaud.

Three years ago, what was on her mind? Fresh out of Oxford, too cynical to be starry-eyed. Volunteering still gave her a false sense of self-importance, rather than existential exhaustion. Carving out her altruistic identity through deeds, not the blood money she had to take advantage of. Still believing in a world governed by monetary prowess and tacit favours. That somehow, she'd make up for inherited sins in sheer time and effort.

On her own, she just ended pulling up roots and moving on every couple years, leaving behind very little of herself. Taking some perverse pride in the impossibility of knowing an enigma but each year she noticed the empty space, the quiet of the flat, more encompassing. Lines on her face. Still young but not forever.

Maybe she needed some change in her life. Company, but not for the sake of matrimony. Living with Arnaud in Paris had made it easier to accept the façade of a charmed life, even if their relationship was one of social convenience. It got her father off her case. Her colleagues finally stopped speculating that she'd gone frigid and switched to wondering when she and Arnaud were going to move on or get hitched. Never to her face. Always to the secretary, who passed along the information with the same enthusiasm as commentary on the window dressings.

Marriage crossed her mind, once or twice, in abstract. A last resort to keep up the veneer of normalcy. She could change her name. Become another unassuming face among thousands. Settle down while she was young. She wasn't a company man like her father. Maybe, for a year or two, before her past knocked her back into reality. Keeping her family life and professional life separate was paramount. The events of this morning proved as much.

An attendant came over smelling of artificial vanilla and enquired if they would need anything. Stench recalled the low-lit bathroom in Conakry; a rush of saliva flooded Madeleine’s mouth as before vomiting. She shook her head. The attendant looked over at her in concern.

“Everything's fine, thank you,” said Safin.

Madeleine threw him a bitter look as the attendant continued down the aisle. The sentiment was not reciprocated. Taken up by a need for conversation, if only to get out of her own head into someone else's for a while, she began, “So—” cleared her throat “—so, you head your own team?”

“That's correct.”

“How long have you been operating?”

“Fourteen years.”

“That’s quite a long time. I cannot say I'm familiar with the detail.”

“Our operations tend to stray away from the public eye. The situation in Conakry was an exception.”

Madeleine nodded primly. Still grasping for a conversation topic that wouldn’t completely sabotage her own intentions. What the hell could she do if he was one of SPECTRE? Second-guessing all his responses wouldn't get her anywhere. She simpered.

“I understand that this is not an ideal location to talk in-depth. But it wouldn’t hurt to know why my father saw fit to bother with me after all this time.”

“He has never discussed his business with you?”

“He made sure to keep me abreast of most of it. But I always knew where the money came from.” Madeleine frowned slightly. “There was an incident in Bolivia, back in 2008. I was volunteering on behalf of the IDPs and civilians affected by the water crisis. Dominic Greene, the famous entrepreneur, lost his life and the organisation QUANTUM shut down. But the gas explosion at the La Perla de las Dunas, that was all over the news. At the time it was deemed a political assault because several key members of the Bolivian military were rumoured to be involved.”

“On the news, do you recall ever hearing of a man named Luiz Medrano?”

“Medrano? As in, the exiled dictator?”

Safin nodded. “General Medrano cut a deal with Greene. Undisputed access to a seemingly useless piece of land in the Atacama Desert. It was, in fact, the site of an underground dam. Greene would have a monopoly over Bolivia's water, and Medrano and his coup would seize control of the country.” A particularly cold smile crossed Safin’s face but didn’t reach his eyes. “Not all of their subordinates were loyal. Someone from the outside must have intercepted at the hotel. Even so, their claim over the dam might have stayed out of the public eye if not for the amount of military figures found complicit in that political handover.” He paused. “QUANTUM's disbandment was not made public at the time. How would you know of this?”

Madeleine lowered her voice. “QUANTUM was my father's company, and Mr Greene was one of his associates. Besides, I never knew Greene personally. I don't think my father mentioned him to me more than twice in my life. I just put two-and-two together. He'd never let me see his shame directly.”

“I presume your father was acting in the interest of your protection.”

“He's always been meddling in my affairs! Even when I was a little girl. It's funny, you know. He was too busy to raise me so it fell to my mother. And then, once I got older, he decided to come back into my life. I would stay with him for a few months and go back to whichever school he put me through for the rest of the year. We stopped talking once I went off to Oxford.”

“And your mother?”

Madeleine froze. Averted her face towards the window. “She passed on when I was younger.”

Something indecipherable surfaced in his expression. “My apologies.”

“No, it’s all right. I’ve had time to mourn.” She scowled at nothing in particular. “I hope you realise I don’t have much on me.”

“Your personal affairs have been collected from the flat. You will have access to them once we reach our destination.”

“And that was decided by him, or you?” Safin held her gaze. “Well, you are doing this on his behalf, are you not?”

No answer. Back to silence until the attendant passed by again, accompanied by the scent of faux-vanilla. Madeleine couldn’t stand to sit another minute.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Safin without looking up.

“Dining car. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Safin made eye-contact with the associate on his side, nodded. The man got up and followed her into the next car without a word.

The attendant and passengers became nonentities while Madeleine ordered a sandwich and coffee. The associate didn't order anything, scanning the car. Just a pair of commuters, to the untrained eye.

“Welcome back, Dr Swann,” said Safin. “How was the dining car?”

“Uneventful.”

Safin glanced at the associate who was now sitting a few rows down. “I’m glad there were no complications.”

“I would certainly hope not,” Madeleine muttered. Every sentence that left her mouth gave him more ammunition. Ill-advised to put up a haughty front for the rest of the train ride. Tolerating the situation without being happy about it. Best get a grip before she made a bigger fool of herself.

“I’m not one of your patients, Dr Swann. There's no need to try and figure me out.”

“I am not trying to do anything of the sort.” Terse, reflexive. Safin drew a quiet breath. Madeleine glanced over at him and of course, he initiated:

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“Psychology?”

“Yes.”

It was such an ordinary question that Madeleine forgot to be indignant. “I… well, truthfully there are a lot of days where it is not very glamourous. But, if the alternative is to sit by and do nothing while others are suffering, I wouldn't give up for the world.” Shrugging off her lingering bad mood with a white lie. “And you?”

“I have no complaints about my work.”

A little brisk, compared to his previous responses. But she hardly knew the man well enough to start parsing for tells. In his position she'd probably have answered the same way.

On the second train heading from Genève to Sion, Madeleine was out of conversation topics. Not that Safin was one for talking anyway. She'd settled into the pattern of being scrutinised and returning the scrutiny. Just like her father to send a highly-trained watchdog in lieu of an apology.

Once again, they had the car to themselves. The afternoon sun beaming in through the window imprinted on her retinas until she pulled down the blinds.

The passing attendant did not address her beyond a glance and a small, terse smile. Probably just itching to get to the end of his shift and go see his friends for drinks. In his absence, her eyes kept flickering over empty rows, scanning, rescanning, fruitlessly.

“Dr Swann,” said Safin quietly, “is there a reason you keep looking over at the door?”

Madeleine purposefully relaxed her shoulders. “I wasn't aware that my father owned property in Sion. It's uncommon.”

“It's an architect’s villa located in Pont-de-la-Morge. Built in 1950, refurbished in 2008. You’ll have your pick of rooms on the second floor, if that makes any difference.”

Madeleine nodded. Running his sentence through in her head a few more times. She looked up sharply. “You’ll be staying there as well?”

“Given what occurred in Guinea and France, I would say it is in your best interest to have someone watching your back for a while.”

“You might have mentioned this before.”

“My job is to keep you alive. That’s as much reassurance as I can offer.”

⁂

Arrival at the station. Ushered into another black car. The sky overhead threatening rain as the car pulled into the drive. The perimeter of the house was flanked by several men not dissimilar from the two who’d collected Madeleine from her office. They did not speak. A couple of them nodded to Safin before bidding them entry.

An abundance of glass doors and aesthetically pleasing windows. The kitchen; wood panelling and stainless-steel. A fireplace in the living room with glass doors directly adjacent that led out to a terrace. The lawn watered itself. There were three bathrooms and bedrooms respectively.

Her own room was up the stairs, on the right. Far less claustrophobic or lived-in than Arnaud’s apartment. A fitted wardrobe, a stiff-looking bed. Mahogany sofa that wasn’t really her style but could be worked around. Light on the westernmost wall. Another set of glass doors that led out to a balcony, flanked by maroon curtains. She turned on the light, drew the curtains shut. Opening the wardrobe, she found the clothes she'd left in Arnaud's apartment that morning. She parsed through the fabric, unsure whether to find this latter aspect convenient or invasive. Some of these clothes she hadn’t worn in a season or two.

Arnaud's last conversation came to mind. Had he come back to the flat after she left in order to apologise, or collect her things? If they hadn’t argued that morning he might still be alive. Worried enough, perhaps, to ask around and get himself in a lot of trouble before he was silenced.

Madeleine shut the wardrobe forcefully. A change of style the first step to reinventing herself.

Over the balcony she caught sight of Safin and his associates. He looked over as she came down the stairs. “The room is fine,” she began, “but, if I'm going to be here a week I'll need some things in the morning.”

Safin nodded. “Once we work out an itinerary, that shouldn't be an issue. You recall the two men who accompanied you?” The first nodded; the second smiled politely. “Simply inform one of them and they will transport you as needed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Madeleine. No chance of giving these men the slip and expecting to survive.

⁂

That night she buried herself under rough wool blankets. Dreamless sleep the most precious amenity of all. She couldn’t start drinking and risk a hangover. If she started taking pills she'd draw attention to herself pretty quickly.

Normally she could manage to sleep. Restless but consistent enough to scrape by unnoticed.

Waking up half-fevered. Unfamiliar ceiling. Sion, not France. Waiting for the initial swell of terror to pass, as it always did. Regulating her breathing. Just a trauma response. Laying still, unsure if it was midnight or five in the morning.

Back in Ermatige, the waves of terror and relief used to crash down, shake her apart. Twenty-six year-old Madeleine chewed her lip. Sitting up, wrapping her arms around herself. A dull throbbing behind her eyes, in the base of her skull. Heavy scent of petrichor invading her nostrils.

About to get up when she heard the creak of floorboards. Movement from the hall towards the stairs, descending. Someone was up and around. A few seconds later, Safin’s voice, indistinct.

Oh, God.

She hadn’t disturbed him, had she?

She could lay back down and feign sleep until her headache became too much to ignore. Or she could go on with her day. Checked the time. 06:21.

Technically still too early for her to be up and about.

The warmth of the sheets became cloying. She stood up, barefoot on varnished wood, creeping over to the balcony. Reaching out to touch the pane. Cool glass kissing her naked palm. In a month or two the ground would be laden with snow.

Opening the door. Stepping out onto the balcony, gripping the rail. Quieting her breath to hear the whisper of water on grass. Taking fresh air into her lungs until she was shivering. Soles of her feet smarted.

The men surrounding the premises did not move. But they must see her up there. She stepped back indoors.

Silvery glint in her peripherals. The old television reflecting the light from outside.

Combing around the drawers for a remote. She clicked it on. Quickly hit the mute button. Squinting at the harsh colours that only reignited her headache. Flitting through channels for news. Poring over the headlines.

Not a word about the MSF. It had only been a month since she came back to Europe. Next week was October.

She sat there for a while letting the colours wash over the room. Clicked it off. Stumbling into the bathroom. Bags under her eyes more pronounced than the day before.

Madeleine had a shower, trying to piece together the dream. Hazier than in her youth. She discarded it. Only a dream. Drying off, dressing for the day. Contenting herself with the solidity of wool and linen, she went downstairs to have breakfast.

Safin, hovering by the glass doors in the living-room area. Dressed as if for another commute. “Dr Swann,” he said as way of greeting.

“Morning,” she replied. It was seven forty AM. No job to distract her from this newfound sense of nihilism. She rifled through the pantry looking for some cereal and saw an expensive-looking bottle of alcohol towards the back—liquor. Madeleine took the cereal, fixed herself a bowl and some coffee.

Caffeine counteracted her torpor, but the headache remained. “I don’t suppose this safehouse has any painkillers?” Safin looked over. She was already going through cabinets. “It’s my head. Just the weather, really.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Well enough.” She met his gaze with more confidence than she could back up. Safin’s attention diverted to the side of her head.

“On your right.”

She took two with her coffee. Ate in silence. Waiting a week in the hope her father might have an excuse was a truly miserable proposition. What would she say? Hello, Papa. I’m still alive. Did you pick this location to remind me of your home in Austria? No, that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Easier to approach her father in the same context as her job.

“Who do I speak to when I’m ready to leave?”

Safin glanced over at one of the associates.

⁂

The spotter gave her the run down on the way. In terms of travel she couldn’t go beyond the canton of Valais and she could not contact anyone else outside of Kerberos to confer information about her father’s whereabouts. But aside from that she could pretty much go anywhere.

First, clothing. That took her to Bottega Veneta. In Flagranti’s Business Acumen playing over the intercom. Madeleine's hackles raised. The painkillers in effect. Caffeine wearing off. She started parsing out signs. She hadn't really thought about what she needed beyond a change.

So accustomed to the life of a disconnected middle-class that its opposite became seductive. Perusing the aisles in a daze. Selecting whatever pulled at her heart in a perverse reminder of home. Nothing too extravagant. A new raincoat and a couple pairs of shoes. Navy scarf for the winter months. Spare lipstick. A few more shirts and dress pants in monochrome. Spare underwear, socks.

Spent half an hour trying it all on. Avoiding the eyes of the woman in the glass. Most of it fit but she didn't feel any different. The raincoat especially gave her a funereal look. She already had a reputation for being severe. What did it matter? She was always severe and the rest of the world could just bite the bullet.

Shit. The spotter was waiting for her. He probably didn't care either way. They hadn't talked much and she wasn't about to humanise him. She'd only let her guard down faster.

She parsed him out. They made brief eye-contact. Unimportant banter between her and the cashier during the transaction. Taking her bags. Walking over rain-slicked asphalt. Back into the car. The beat of raindrops on the window lulling her into a false sense of security.

Snapping herself out of it when the car stopped. “I’ll get it,” she insisted. The associate didn’t protest.

Treading up the stairs, down the hall. Pulling old clothes out of drawers, off hangers. Substituting her purchased goods. It wasn’t enough to fill the wardrobe, but she would have time to buy new clothes. Set aside the old stuff to be dealt with.

Shambling downstairs. Hungry without any real appetite. Safin nowhere to be seen. It took all the strength she had just to stand. Moving over to the sofa. Slumping into it. Closing her eyes. Only for a second.

The sound of a car pulling in mixed up with the sharp staccato of rifle fire tearing apart a wooden door.

Papa's gun in the cabinet, next to the bleach.

Heavy footsteps on wood.

No matter how fast she bolted she’d never get there in time.

Gloved hand on her shoulder.

Jerking awake with a guttural hitch, like she'd been sucker-punched.

Breathing hard. Her face damp.

“Dr Swann?”

Face-to-face with the last person she wanted to justify herself to. She averted her eyes. “Oh God, it's just—I’m sorry. It was just a nightmare.”

“About Conakry?”

She swallowed dryly. “Look, it’s nothing, I’m—”

“Don’t tell me that it is nothing.” His tone suddenly sharper. “You were in significant distress, now and early this morning. Nightmares are a common response in post-traumatic—”

“—I am familiar with the definition!” Ringing silence. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. “Your concern is not unfounded, I know that it looks very bad. But I know how to deal with this. Please, just leave me be.”

“Just now, you said, don't come any closer, I'll kill you. Does that mean anything to you?”

Her hackles raised. “It's meaningless.”

“Depriving yourself of sleep won't do you any favours when Mr White shows up. If you want to be stubborn, I'll have no option but to keep you locked down until you have recuperated. In the meantime, think over what you must do to get some proper sleep. I'm not your therapist.”

He left her to sit, bitter and confused. He hadn’t reacted this way in Guinea and she'd been close to catatonic. So, what was this about?

⁂

For the next three days the Kerberos team confined her to the safehouse. Letting her out only to walk her around the premises for twenty minute intervals like a high-strung pet. If she were to take sleeping pills she was monitored. Resentment outweighed by desperation to regain her agency.

She learnt to recognise Safin's gait back and forth down the hall. Through the glass doors that led out onto the balcony, she could always see the figures silhouetted in the light from the terrace, blending into the shadows.

Even with all of this, sleep was no easier. Waking up half-fevered, clawing away the sheets. Expecting to see her stomach torn open, entrails and blood over the sheets not unlike brain matter and bone fragments against a hot car window. Finding unbroken skin sheened in sweat. The stress of the situation in Guinea and the extreme nature of the attack would inevitably recall some previous triggers.

It didn't explain away the nightmares about Altaussee. Hadn't she put that behind her years ago? Minor variations, each time. The setting was more indistinct than in childhood but the visceral details heightened. Sometimes the gunman would shoot her on sight before she stepped outside. Most often now, she'd run over to find no gun in the cabinet, and he shot her anyway. As a child she'd lacked the mental capacity to conceptualise how it would feel to die this way; now she dreaded what she'd see when she closed her eyes.

On day four, she was finally able to get some rest on account of exhaustion rather than effort. She woke up to the sun streaming into her face. Once she left her room, the two associates got her out of the house, into the car. They drove around Valais for roughly an hour and brought her back. Upon her return to the safehouse there were men checking over the rooms and furniture. Only so much protocol she could stomach, on top of all the scrutiny.

“I don’t want them in my room when I come in,” she told Safin. “Around the premises if necessary, but that’s all. If they must check all the rooms, fine, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see it.”

Childish to her own ears. Too beaten-down to think better. But he just said: “That can be arranged.”

⁂

The nights here were getting colder. Madeleine bundled up. She had never cared much for the autumnal season. All the decay covered beneath the snow to be unearthed come spring. Upcoming holiday meant throngs of people. Indifferent towards Christmas.

Safin was rarely around. In passing, he would acknowledge her in passing with a curt nod, and after day five he was more-or-less in the background. Every now and again, she'd catch him hovering in a room, just observing. Sometimes, if she turned, she imagined a flicker of something unfamiliar trapped behind his reserved countenance. But he never stuck around long enough for her to ask.

With an abundance of free time, she was unable to let herself to fall into the illusion of normalcy. Inevitable, then, that her thoughts would stray back to the MSF. Conducting research on her own, in the mornings and evenings; parsing through official news sites on her laptop, then underground articles, statistics, and anything else she could scrounge up.

The Guinean military had been busy quelling unrest for the last four weeks, but there were few details. Several key figures in the MSF were currently under investigation, tarnishing the reputation of the organisation. That stuck around the headlines, right next to some lesser story in the corner about various pharmaceutical companies cooperating in tandem with the Red Cross and clean MSF figures to ensure there was no repeat affliction throughout the rest of Africa. Madeleine didn’t see her face or any mention of a Psychosocial Unit mentioned anywhere.

The nightmares weren't any better. But at least she had something to point her energy towards rather than direct it inwards.

On day six, Safin was lurking about the living area when she came down. He didn't wish her good morning. “I'll say this once, for your own good. Forget about what happened in Guinea.”

A week ago Madeleine would've been indignant. Arrogant enough to question this. She said: “There has been nothing short of a civil outbreak, and all the other parties walked away more or less unscathed. And you expect me to ignore that?”

“You accepted that mission knowing that there was the possibility there would be casualties.”

“Casualties? It was a worst-case scenario.”

He looked over at her. “The situation escalated far beyond any one party's control. There's no sense in blaming yourself. You did the best you could.”

Always wearing gloves. What the hell had happened to him? And why, succeeding that, would one choose security as their preferred occupation?

“Are you going to ask if it’s genetic?”

Madeleine balked. For the first time in a long time embarrassed rather than unnerved. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

He shrugged. “No offence taken.” His tone was off, like trying for sharpness without credence. “It was a long time ago.” Cordial, but not openly genial. While their conversations topics didn't leave much room for trust or even camaraderie, at the very least they were not glowering at each other anymore. “There's been a slight change of plans. Your father should be arriving later this evening.

“Well, that's convenient.”

“I'm sure you would like to ask him a few questions about your situation.”

“There's no telling he will give me a straight answer.” Safin said nothing. Madeleine exhaled, looked over at him. “Irrespective of how I might feel about your employer, you’ve given me no reason to distrust you.”

“Very well, Dr Swann.”

Madeleine smiled. “Please, just call me Madeleine. I'm not working right now.”

A beat.

“All right. Madeleine.”

#no time to die #multichapter #crime drama #not canon compliant #slow build #lyutsifer safin #madeleine swann #mr white #general medrano #dominic greene #fanfic #fanfiction #sorry I'm late!

7 notes · View notes

fencesandfrogs · 3 years

Text

cloudtail’s daughter: dovewing

so i felt the compulsion to analyze more of the warrior cats bloodlines in terms of genetics but i'm not going to do that, that feels like a bad use of my time.

instead, i'm going to keep writing about the cloudtail's daughter au. namely, now that i've described the basics and gone over some world building stuff, i'm going to discuss each of the protagonists in turn. this isn't going to be about their books, but an overview of what they do across the series. i'll do book summaries later. and then i'll just write the whole fanfiction why-don't-i.

anyway, we're starting strong with dovewing, because she's the whole reason i'm writing this gd au.

section one: lovewing dovewing

so dovewing. i've talked the most about her so this will either be the shortest or the longest post in this collection. my money is on the longest. first, i want to talk about why i love dovewing so much:

i have sensory issues. dovewing has sensory issues. that's all.

oh, and i think her and tigerheart are cute.

anyway, in serious, dovewing is an underappreciated character. she gets a lot of flak for replacing hollyleaf. i hated hollyleaf when i first read the books, so i was happy for a replacement, especially in the form of a fluffy grey kitten, but even now that i'm older and have a larger appreciation for hollyleaf, i still love dovewing.

she's caring and anxious and awkward and easily overwhelmed. she's selfish, but no more than is reasonable in a child. she legitimately loves her sister but can't quite understand why ivypool is mad at her all the time. she's desperate to prove herself, and she's shattered when the external thing she's anchored herself to is ripped away from her, and she really does have sensory issues that plague her throughout the series, are aren't really resolved until she's an adult with kits. (even then, i'd personally argue she's just no longer a focus so we don't see it anymore. given that shadowsight finds her in tigerstar's den a lot, i'd almost bet that she's hiding from the outside world. that's an inference, though, that's weakly grounded.)

so yeah, dovewing appeals to me as a character, but i also understand why people aren't so universal fond of her.

section two: dovekit

dovekit is born to cloudtail and brightheart. she's fluffy. very fluffy. ivykit is also fluffy, but she becomes sleek over time. dovekit stays fluffy.

at first, the nursery thinks she might be deaf, because she's really slow to respond to auditory cues. she's really fast to open her eyes, too, which just compounds everyone's thinking. but they confirm she's not deaf, just, well, they don't know.

her father is big and fluffy and concerned for his wife, so she spends a lot of time with him. cloudtail notices she's always hiding in him, like she's being chased, and she speaks really quietly. so he's like. hey, brightheart, love of my life, i think our daughter is hearing too well.

brightheart is like damn that's a thing? cloudtail is like idk but explain this (and he points to dovekit, repeating their conversation to ivykit too far away to hear it that well.)

everyone is a little aware of firestar's general approach to throw-the-disabled-cats-in-the-healer-hole approach to disabilities, and so they decide to handle it as a family matter. ivykit, being equally young, is mostly left out of this. of course, they don't know how to compensate for hearing too much, only too little, and it eventuall becomes obvious dovekit isn't relying on sight the way she should either. but eventually, she starts to learn the names for what she's hearing, starts to recognize what's coming from in camp and what's coming from out, and that lets her attach images to words in a way she was struggling to do before.

her nose gives her minimal issues, because it's just a little less overwhelming. it's the weakest of her external senses, so she's not smelling the whole territory at once.

anyway, they also realize she's hyper aware of touch. she hates the rain, she's cautious around new textures, and she continues to sleep on top of brightheart for a very long time because mom = soft, nest = not. they don't really know what to do about that, so she just kind of learns to suck it up.

but she really doesn't like it.

anyway, ivykit is a typical kit, and dovekit just kind of sits there. staring. with big, blue (kittens eyes start blue then change colors her eyes will eventually be green) eyes. and just when you think she's zoning out, she turns to another conversation across camp and starts talking in it like they can hear her. but i mean, there have been worse kits starting their apprentices.

(leafpool thinks its a shame they have a fully trained medicine cat, or she would make, well, not a good medicine cat, but certainly better than a warrior. jayfeather does not want that. jayfeather is right.)

section three: dovepaw I, pre-beavers

dovepaw and cinderheart are a good duo. cinderheart is young, but patient and caring. and no one thinks dovepaw will be a difficult apprentice.

she excels at scenting territory, even if she is a little cautious of where the borders are, and she can seek out prey very well. she lands a couple of early catches, making ivypaw grumble, but for, like, a moon afterwards, she fails to catch a single thing.

not a ton happens in this time, to be frank. dovepaw and ivypaw squabble but there's no wedge between them yet. dovepaw wants to impress cinderheart but she can't focus. she can locate prey but she never catches it, and her crouch is always perfect but she misses the target, and she doesn't understand why. cinderheart doesn't either.

so, dovepaw knows everyone is treating her with kid gloves, and she's pretty resentful about that. she decides to sneak out at night and practice hunting. she's mostly unsuccessful, and she eventually falls down the tunnels and meets fallen leaves and is stuck there for about three days. ivypaw finds her, and helps lead her out. dovepaw is thankful to be home, but feels like even more of a failure. this is when she becomes full and proper anxiety child. (this is actually a major part of book one, distance whispers, but it's really more part of ivypaw's journey that dovepaw, because dovepaw spends most of it hurt and scared and hungry.)

then, dovepaw hears the beavers. (in the tunnels, she could kind of hear the other parts of thunderclan, but not the beavers. eventually she's like, "yo cinderheart what part of territory has the loud click clackers." cinderheart is like "wtf.") the lake has been drying up, but dovepaw was born into a drought. she doesn't know what's going on, not how bad its getting. but the beavers? yeah. she tells cinderheart about them and cinderheart is like "ohhhhhh. dovepaw is special. that explains a lot." and tells firestar about it. anxiety dovepaw vibrates by her side the entire time.

interestingly, dovepaw is a lot closer to firestar in kinship than she is in the original (because she's actually kin of his kin), but she's still not super close to him. he's pretty old, and she's decently far removed from him. he cares about her as cloudtail's daughter, not as dovepaw, if that makes sense? like any care for her beyond the care extended to any other apprentice is not because it's dovepaw, but because she's cloudtail's daughter.

section four: dovepaw II, beavers

so dovepaw knows she's dragging 9 cats on a crazy quest.

(why nine? a) i think it's neat if nine is a holy number for cats. much better than eight. b) hollyleaf needs to come so there's a narrator during this. it can't be cinderheart or hollyleaf and jayfeather & lionblaze and cinderheart share their books like ivypool and dovewing, and i don't like that because then there's a false parallel being drawn where it doesn't make sense. like, i could do that, but the problem is, the books don't line up with key points in their relationships. so. doesn't work.)

anyway, dovepaw knows this is insane and she feels desperate to prove herself. she's in front of warriors from other clans, and she can barely hunt, and her senses are going wild. cinderheart takes her aside and is like, "so dovepaw, do you want to tell them what's up? we can explain."

and dovepaw, anxiety child and desperate, is like "sounds like an excuse, so, no."

tigerheart is like, this dovepaw. she's fluffy. she's cute. dovepaw is like. this tigerheart. he's fluffy. he's cute. and they get off like gangbusters. tigerheart is gentle towards dovepaw, but not in a way that makes her feel like its because she's fragile. it's because she's dovepaw. and he wants to be gentle to her. cinderheart is like, "this might be a problem," but this is also the first time she's seen dovepaw out of her shell and talking at a reasonable volume. so she's not about to stop this. at least, not yet.

(cinderpelt may or may not be like "hey hey hey do you remember the leafpool drama? do you want to do this again?")

tigerheart is also super quiet. this isn't really a product of him, so much as their environment, but he's quiet when he's not talking and loud when he is, and dovepaw just feels safe around him. so they get close.

for the most part, the rest of beavers proceeds as in canon. there's no reason to change it, even if cinderheart wasn't strong like lionblaze, having hollyleaf there would definitely compensate. so they're fine.

they return victorious. dovepaw, by the end of the journey, is practically sleeping on top of tigerheart.

it's not really romantic yet, by the way. dovepaw started this journey sleeping on top of cinderheart. everyone in thunderclan knows that dovepaw sleeps on top of people. but tigerheart is big so he basically doesn't notice when dovepaw, who is tiny and isn't done filling out (she's full height all the apprentices are that's how cats grow) is on top of him.

cinderheart is like, "this is definitely a problem." hollyleaf and cinderpelt are facepalming.

but no one wants dovepaw to go back to being quiet, and she's already kind of shut down after the deaths taking care of the beavers, so they all try to bring dovepaw into the group, and dovepaw doesn't resist, she just likes tigerheart. she's going to miss him a lot when they get back, and that's why they keep meeting. because tigerheart doesn't treat dovepaw the way most thunderclan cats do, and she likes that.

also, after they get back, she develops a huge crush on him.

(since we don't get tigerheart perspective in this series, i'll add in here: tigerheart has complicated feelings about dovepaw. warrior cats do not establish a good age for cats to be with each other, but i'm going to say that if dovepaw and tigerheart were in the same clan, everyone would assume they were leaning towards mates. but they aren't, which makes it complicated. he likes her companionship, and he's not opposed to her as a mate, but mostly he feels deeply protective of her and cares deeply about her. kind of like how i assume brambleclaw and squirrelpaw were supposed to be portrayed, but like, done well.)

section five: dovepaw III, post-beavers (pre-tribe)

so this is probably the section that's most similar to canon, but it'd like to do the tigerheart dovepaw shit better. hopefully, by setting up tiger/dove better before, they'll be more compelling now.

anyway, ivypaw is annoyed at dovepaw, and dovepaw is like, "bruh i can't even hunt"

dovepaw feels really inadequate because now everyone thinks highly of her even though she can't do anything. she overhears someone (greystripe? brambleclaw? lionblaze?) discussing making her a warrior, and she feels even worse. (ivypaw also overhears this, but not for superpower reasons.) she feels especially bad because she knows ivypaw is holding back and now dovepaw is getting rewarded and that can't happen.

so dovepaw is falling apart, and cinderheart decides something needs to be done. piecing together everything she knows about her apprentice, she decides mabye the mountain is helpful.

section six: dovepaw IV, tribe

okay we have a travelling book. not that this is about the books, but this takes place in about one book, so i might as well point that out.

anyway, cinderheart, lionblaze, dovepaw, and ivypaw all head to the tribe. why them? lionblaze knows ivypaw is holding back. anyway, we're not covering them.

so they get there and dovepaw is like "too loud too loud can't hear shit too loud" but the tribe kind of knows how to deal with this. see, tribe kits are born with the waterfall in the background, but every now and then, a queen will kit away from the main cave, and so they have to make a temporary den for first two moons, minimum, of the kits' lives. more if it's winter. so when those kits get to the waterfall, they're overwhelmed.

and here, with nothing to hear or see but what the tribe hears and sees, dovepaw is on level footing. they let dovepaw train with the prey hunter to-bes, and she's basically starting over, but she's not that old compared to the tribe to-bes, and the strategy works well for her. ivypaw doesn't really fit in, but they decide to train her to be a cave guard.

dovepaw is succeeding but barely, and ivypaw is still excelling (from dovepaw's perspective), and all dovepaw wants is to be good enough, and then cinderheart is expecting them to work together, and no one can hear dovepaw because she talks too quiet.

but ivypaw and dovepaw do make a good team. so. two to three moons later, before winter sets in and they can't leave (or they stay over winter, not sure, need to check timeline of books), they head home.

dovepaw, senses blocked, is at 200% anxiety 100% of the time, and she's vibrating, but at least she can hunt. i mean, hunt as well as a fresh apprentice on their first patrol, but she's improving rapidly, as long as ivypaw is with her.

section seven: dovepaw V, post-tribe (final dovepaw)

so dovepaw gets better and better at hunting, and she learns to keep track of non-ivypaw cats, and they're finally made warriors.

dovewing and ivypool sit vigil and dovewing realizes that it's not that hard to not talk to ivypool. and she's not a fan of that.

section eight: dovewing I, tigerheart

at this point, dovewing is in BGCH, so this is probably the most important part of her life for this post. anyway, dovewing and tigerheart continue to meet. they are in L-O-V-E love. it's not in the books because we know it's happening and it'd get boring we had a book of them bonding we don't need another unless it's a romance novel (dovewing's silence, tigerheart's shadow).

anyway, this is when the bumblestripe drama occurs. she is, for lack of a better word, bumblestripe is courting dovewing while dovewing is planning to elope with tigerheart. but bumblestripe treats dovewing softly. with kid gloves. like she is a fragile thing he needs to protect.

this is distinctly different from tigerheart, who views her as precious and worthy of protection, someone he loves and would dedicate his life to keep safe. she's not fragile. she's strong.

so yeah bumblestripe can't figure out why he doesn't like her. dovewing tries to express it. dovewing also misses ivypool. i'm not sure who she's friends with right now. i don't have a good handle on young cats her age. poppyfrost? briarlight?

honestly, yeah, she gets on with briarlight and jayfeather. her sense of smell was too overpowering as a kit for her to like the medicine cat's den, but now that she's older and she's learned to cope, she starts to bond with briarlight. for one, it gives her a convient bumblestripe spacer, and for another, briarlight and jayfeather are legitmately kind and caring cats.

(yes, jayfeather. we'll talk about him.)

ivypool eventually begins to make it up with her, but both of them are tense about the affair.

anyway, this carries on, status quo, until the prophecy is revealed.

section nine: dovewing II, dovewing in shadowclan

so dovewing and ivypool are sent to shadowclan. tigerheart is a little upset about dovewing not telling him about the prophecy, but she was ordered not to via medicine cat, and that's a higher power he respects. so for the most part, they're okay. a little bit of squabbling as they're adults living together now for the first time, but they're alright. she eventually goes back to sleeping on top of him.

pine needles are prickly, she likes soft things, ivypool is mad at her all of the time. dovewing is good at hunting in shadowclan territory: with less birds and twigs, she can focus on the important sounds. she's not a fan of frogs and lizards but not everyone in shadowclan is.

and most of all, everyone in shadowclan treats her normally. no one cares that she's a prophecy cat. no one minds that she's slow to talk sometimes and she's kind of spacy. she's kind and she's a good hunter and a good tracker, which is a valuable skill considering their land can get pretty wet.

so yeah. dovewing and tigerheart are basically mates in all but name, and she wishes ivypool wasn't mad at her all the time, but she's happy for the first time in ages. they begin to discuss moving her to shadowclan after the battle. things are good.

section ten: dovewing III, the battle

so dovewing's job during the battle is not to listen all the way to the dark forest. that's stupid.

i'm not 100% sure what it is yet, tbh, but it definitely involves informing strategy. i'm thinking she basically opens her mind up to the terretory and jayfeather taps into her mind and communicates this to messengers and the like.

either way, she doesn't really care about it. or, well, it just gets erased from her mind because trauma. that's a better way of saying it.

section eleven: dovewing IV, dovewing's silence, bramblestar's storm, tigerheart's shadow

so this is past the scope of this au, but basically, dovewing gets "trapped" in thunderclan because of the storm and not being ready to move to shadowclan yet. she still does all of her screaming in the tunnels thing because as hard as her senses were to learn to manage, they were her's and she doesn't really know how to function without them.

i'm not sure who dies in the battle, but probably cloudtail. i'm way more attatched to brightheart. maybe they don't lose anyone. i don't know.

she leaves in tigerheart's shadow because she's got self-worth issues and forgot that shadowclan dgaf if she has prophecy powers. tigerheart also makes her feel a little unvalued by not following her. but from there, things go on as in canon.

dovewing? done.

#dovewing #warriors #ivypool #tigerheart #warrior cats #cloudtail's daughter #mine #txt #22nd #February #2021 #February 22nd 2021 #q #essay #lovewing dovewing

8 notes · View notes

diegolabhont · 4 years

Text

I didn't mean to fall in love with you

Chapter One

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: None (in this post, al least)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really.

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Can someone explain to her how a person who claims to be so disinterested in the ranking was magically climbing to the top twenty?

Poppy didn’t buy it for a second, she always knew Beck were going to be a pain in her ass ever since the first time she saw them looking at her as if they weren’t impressed, but she wasn’t fully aware of how much.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Poppy” Chloe said while the strawberry blonde retouch her make up in the mirror inside her own room. “Beck is just a dude”

“Transphobia much, Chloe?” Veronica murmured playfully, wanting to start drama among her streaming fans.

“No! What I'm saying is… Beck's brain works as a regular dude, right? How much smart can they be?”

“Ha! That´s rich coming from you” Veronica laughed.

Both girls started a discussion about related shit, Beck’s brain, hormones and else while Poppy put on the mascara. Completely silent, thinking.

She treated Beck as a common enemy, she attacked them just like she would to any other lost lamb trying to be the wolf but it was not enough. Even one of those plans exploded in her own face: ruining and breaking Beck's guitar caused that they not only get a flashy and beautiful new one, but sang side by side with the one and only Jaylen Riaz, making a huge performance. Even better than hers, which was something painful and humiliating at the same time, especially after Veronica told her Beck’s YouTube channel had a followers increase, making them even more popular.

Chloe was right on something: Beck’s brain worked like a dude, and if she had learned something was that men in general were manipulable. Take a look at Michael, he was dumb as hell. Liam was a douchebag. Luis, Ford… well, they… they´re there. The only golden boy among them was Carter, and yet, he wasn´t that hard, she just gave him what he wanted in that party and after that, everything ran smoothly.

And that´s what she needed.

Poppy´s look changed, her eyes sparkled in a very malicious way and a smile crossed her face for a split second. She now had a plan, and unexpectedly, it was a Chloe attribution.

“Maybe if we accused them of cheating…?” Chloe suggested, but Poppy knew better.

“That won´t be necessary, Chlo” Poppy intervened for the first time in a while, making both girls look at her intrigued. They knew Poppy, and the little smile she had on her lips as she applied lipstick was a proof. The blonde was onto something juicy. Veronica ended the live and awaited. “Beck will be mine.”

~~X~~

It was kinda lame to her, but finding Beck completely alone under the football stands playing guitar was at least convenient. They were an eye candy from the start, that was a fact. The way that white t-shirt embraced their body was something else to see, her mind went back to the second time she saw them. The sassy rock star kind of look Beck had, even the haircut was perfect, Poppy knew that was a Zoey Wade signature and she kinda thanked her for it. Beck was damn fine, that fact made easier her plan to be honest.

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Beck stopped playing, literally frozen in place as a statue.

“What did you just say?” Their tone of voice was cold, almost insulted. Did she just get it wrong? No, she´s never wrong. A Queen can´t be wrong, especially a Min-Sinclair queen.

“It was a compliment, Farmsville” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That´s not a compliment” Beck chuckled, putting the guitar aside. “I mean, I don´t mind, but if you are going to use that to the trans community… It~ may not end well” Poppy frowned, a little pissed off. She was doing an effort, no-one had ever heard a compliment from her and this little sh… “But thanks.” Beck offered her a sweet smile a second before turn it into a mocking one. “You do pass pretty well as a woman, too”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“And now she gets it!” They started laughing, making her really angry. Poppy walked away fuming, her head up high and a killer look murdering anyone who dare crossing ways with her.

That stupid ASSHOLE. Did they THINK they could disrespect her?! To HER! She was the number ONE, the fucking RULER of the entire school. Beck was lucky enough to be in her radar and they just throw stupid shit like that!

“To be fair… I did say it first”

“I thought it was a COMPLIMENT” She fight against herself. “What am I? Some trans expert?!”

“No… But I can be. I mean, to destroy my enemy…”

“I have to know them...”

Even thought she was still mad about it, Poppy tapped wildly though her phone. She needed to do something, and she knew just the thing.

“It´s ON, jackass”

~~X~~

POV: Beck

Top fifteen. Everyone was losing their shit because they were now top twenty and Beck... Well... They just didn´t want it.

And yeah, sure, that was kinda good. The students in Belvoire had begun to pay attention to their music as well, Beck even caught a few of them listen to songs Beck wrote and some other cover as well. Their art was taking off and that was awesome, don't get it wrong, that was something Beck wanted for so long, but...

They were afraid.

What if it was because of the stupid ranking?

What if Beck just wasn´t that good, and the only thing people would want was that Beck who studded up against Poppy Min-Sinclaire and lived to tell? Even Zoey, she was talking about popularity, Belvoire elite, and some “Person to watch-out” or shit Award which yes, was huge! But… Beck really was afraid that it was Beck who puts the music high and not backwards.

What if…

What if Poppy really messes all up?

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Poppy´s words in their mind caught Beck off guard. What was her deal anyway? She came and said some weird shit, and...

Actually, everything in that interaction was weird as fuck. And not just that, Beck meet Taylor by accident later that day in the ice cream shop, they both talked a little and they found out she had a big crush onto some random guy Beck didn´t knew before.

Of course Beck was the matchmaker! They even helped her by carrying those stupid anti-diarrheic pills to the lion´s den. Ok, yes, maybe~ Beck should´ve had given them to someone and not just let them in the front door… But it wasn´t their fault that The T found out!! Poppy was losing it, and of course it was them to blame.

Why can´t they just have a normal life… with normal problems… and not… this?

“I´m dead… I´m actually dead…” Beck thought while burying their head on their hands, tired.

“Beck? Hello? I assume you heard the details of the assignment.”

“What?”

“Ehm… Yeah! Totally” Beck said with a “confident” smile that nobody believed in, Professor Roberta even frowned before going back to the lecture, while Beck tried uselessly to catch something about the assignment from their classmates´ laptops. She hated Beck anyway, but it wasn´t good news to be always in her bad side.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! … What did she say?”

“Mass comm is all about reaching people far and wide, so this project is meant to give the voiceless in our own community a voice by…”

A penetrant gaze nailed their nape, giving them chills. Beck immediately looked for that one hawk over them and not to their surprise the person found on the other side was that deadly beauty called Poppy Min-Sinclair, watching Beck as they´re a prey. Feeling really drove up the wall, Beck winked playfully at her, expecting her to look away or some rude expression towards them.

But no.

Scaring the shit out of them, Poppy actually smiled back at Beck. A sweet, flirty smile that left them feeling their heart racing as crazy and their cheeks burning red, her dark eyes so into theirs that all their system collapsed... What was happening?

“Earth to Beck!”

Professor Roberta yelled, making Beck jump a little in their sit, breaking all eye contact between them both. When did Beck turn their body completely to watch Poppy? Of course the professor was mad, Beck was practically giving her their back! As faster as they could, Beck took the right seat, being even more embarrassed now while Poppy let go a chuckle, they could hear her from any other laughter just as clearly as if she were so close.

“Oh, sorry. I… Sorry”

“Find your community service project partner please” Professor said. Beck gathered their things and head into the aisle, looking around, praying to find someone whiling to work with them and, mainly, explain to them what was that project about. The thing was everyone had already a partner. Everyone except for…

The strawberry blonde was gazing Beck as sure as someone who´s waiting for this chance can be. Smiling that same smile that caused them to feel butterflies in their stomach… Beck wasn´t sure if they were aroused… or scared.

“Professor Roberta… I need a new partner” Beck practically begged. “I´m sorry. I just can´t work with Poppy.”

The pretty but odd teacher was about to say something. Something bad based on the expression on her face, but a perfect made-up laughter cut her words, as Beck was feeling how a soft and warm hand hooked to their arm.

“Nonsense, professor! I am pretty sure we´ll be working just fine.” Poppy said, a relaxed expression drawn on her porcelain face. “Let´s go, Hughes.”

Ok, Beck was now scared. As both of them walked out the classroom, Beck´s brain was running wild, thinking about every and each form Poppy could use to disappear them from the face of the earth. Ironic, Beck survived Farmsville but they´ll be totally done in New York. Ha! Life hates them.

“Listen, I know what you are thinking…”

Really?

“... but the last thing I need right now is having my GPA taken away. So I´ve already figured it all out. We´re doing an animal shelter commercial for our project. I can ask daddy to borrow the equipment and crew”

“Didn´t think of you as a daddy person” Beck laughed, a little more repose.

“Shut the fuck up, Farmsville. This will be easy, so all I need you to do is… Oh my god.”

Poppy stared at her phone completely in shock, color draining from her face as it was sucked by a dementor.

“I have to go. We can figure out the deets later, I´ll text you where to meet me”

Then, she just left. Beck took a deep breath and let out a hiss.

“Gosh, this school is going to kill me!”

They said, who would have thought a class could be so much?

-----

#queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy

41 notes · View notes

fulltimecatwitch · 4 years

Text

I Found a Reason ( To Keep Living)

My first anderperry fanfic set in the late 60s´ and early 70s´!

I had already posted the a03link to the first chapter but it doesn´t show in the tags for some reason (?) so i´m posting it here as well.

Summary: It is the fall of 1969 and the start of senior year at Wellton for the Dead Poets. The world around them is changing fast and soon they will have to decide what they want for their lives. Neil is struggling against his fathers wishes of becoming a doctor,while his roomate Todd is trying to find the confidence to allow himself to lead the life he wants. They connect through their shared loved for music and dreams of moving to New York ,but don´t quite know what to do when it comes to the feelings they have for each other.An ode to the dead poets and the counterculture of the 60s´.

Warnings for: underage smoking, underage drinking, period typical homophobia, police brutality ( mentioned), brief mentions of war, poor parenting

Chapter 1: Gimme Shelter

Neil Perry loved music, there was no other way to say it. Even before acting and performing, music had been his lifesaver in the ever-demanding life his father had already planned for him. Whenever he was feeling blue, he knew all he had to do was listen to his favourite records. He kept them in his closet, neatly ordered and hidden under piles of sweaters and other clothing items. Under the bed was the record player his mother had gifted him when he turned fifteen. His father had resisted at first, going on about how much it had costed and how much it was going to distract him from his classes. It took some help from his mother, but he let him keep it as long as he promised to use it “moderately and only after he was done studying”.

Neil had some records stored at home, but the ones he kept at Wellton were the ones that would get a disapproving look from his father and one or two of his professors. Most of the albums from the Beatles and the Stones, some Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, Clapton, he had a bit of everything. It hardly mattered now that he was back at school, away from his father and his incessant demands. He listened while doing homework in the afternoon with the volume almost at the lowest just in case Hager was around. Saturdays were his favourite days because he would then take the record player to the school´s rooftop along with some records; the others would join him too. Charlie provided cigarettes and wine that nobody knew how he obtained. Pitts would bring snacks and when he was feeling particularly happy, he would dance along with Meeks. They spent their afternoons lazily listening and dreaming how their lives would be after Wellton. For Neil, sometimes it seemed as if there was no future. There was so much chaos in the world around them: the war, the civil rights movement, the riots at that bar in New York, the police brutality, the list was endless. Yet, all his parents could think of was getting him to medical school. He supposed they had a point; in a year he and all his friends would be eighteen, all eligible for the draft. Sure, he could play it safe for a year or so with the college defer but what if he wasn´t able to keep up with the workload? Pre-med wasn´t easy, he knew that much, and it did not help that he dreaded the idea of becoming a doctor almost as much as the idea of getting dragged to the jungle. Unlike Charlie, who kept bragging about how he would burn his draft card if he ever got called, Neil´s parents had no connections that could help him. He was certain Todd and Knox had them but the rest of them were screwed. Pitts had once told him that if he ever got drafted, he was done for. No way he would survive in the jungle. They had all seen the news coverage; it was a massacre. “Perry,” Charlie said on one of those afternoons, while rolling his eyes “Knoxious here wants to listen to Rubber Soul because he thinks that the Beatles are better than the Rolling Stones, can you believe it?" Neil sighed internally, the same thing happened with Charlie and Knox every time they listened to music. They would first argue about which record to play and then endlessly debate who had the better music taste. Since Neil was the owner of the record player, he unofficially had the power to ultimately decide which album to liste, and he often had to intervene between the two. “I didn´t say that Charlie,” Knox interrupted “I´m just saying they have more idea of what they are doing, what they want their music to sound like. Even Bob Dylan said so.” “Well Dylan hasn´t really been the same since he went electric right?” “Come on Charlie you love the guy” “Not relevant right now, Neil” he said while putting out his cigarette “I say we take a vote to settle this for once and all” He called to the other dead poets, who were mindlessly talking about the massive amount of workload they had barely a month into the fall semester. “What are we doing?” asked Pitts “Taking a vote on who is better: the Beatles or the Stones” Neil said hoping his voice conveyed the slight annoyance of the situation Cameron rolled his eyes all the way back to his skull “Not again” Todd was standing slightly behind Meeks not saying anything yet. His new roommate was still a bit of a mystery, one that Neil found himself drawn to immediately. He was a bit of detective, so he tried hard to be friendly and the payoff was that little by little he saw glimpses of what composed the entirety of Todd. He liked hot tea on the afternoons, he only liked to shower at night, he clasped his hands together when nervous, his favourite sweater was a blue woollen one, he wasn´t good at maths, such little things. The most important one Neil had noticed was that even if Todd didn´t speak his mind often, his brain worked a thousand miles an hour and when he spoke, he did it with power, like prophet. He had such a gift with words and probably so much to say; it made Neil a bit sad that he would not allow himself to do it. He didn´t quite know what it was, but he had bonded with Todd in a way he had never with anyone else in his life. He suppossed that is what some would call "connection" but there had to be another word for it. Everytime there was this electricity running through both of their bodies and pulling them together. He felt the static in every inch of him, amplifying every part of his soul. “Who do you prefer, Perry? Asked Charlie, pulling him out of his thoughts. Damn it, Charlie. “Look, I don´t know who is better but right now I would take Let it Bleed over Revolver any day of the week” “You are a man of taste, Meeks? Pitts? “Sorry Charlie,” said the ginger “but I prefer the Beatles, not the old stuff though” “I agree the old stuff sucks, but I´d rather go to a Stones concert” added Pitts. “Cameron?” “You should know that I don´t approve much of either but if I had to pick, I would go with the Beatles. No way I am listening to someone who calls themselves satanic” “Why did I even ask?” sighed Charlie. What about you Todd? asked Neil raising his brow. The blue-eyed boy jolted slightly; he knew he had the final decision in his hands. If he was completely honest, he was more of a Beatles guy himself. He found that the lyrics suited him better, the mellow sounds were more of his taste, and even the old cheesy stuff ,he found endearing. The problem was that Neil had said he preferred the Stones and he could not deny Neil anything, even if he wasn´t aware he was asking. Neil was special on his own: he had this energy and passion to live that Todd had never seen on anyone else. He loved everything and everyone so much. He was determined to share bits and pieces of his beautiful soul, some he might never get back, just to make his friends feel the same joy he radiated. Neil was also the first person who had not given up on Todd. He had tried to push him away for good as much as he could during their first days at Welton and yet Neil persisted, like the leaf that refused to fall of a tree. Soon enough Todd realised that talking to Neil was easy and lovely. They had developed this little game, an unspoken one, where they guessed each other with just a hand gesture or a smile. Neil could guess what Todd was feeling or thinking with just a glance and the other way around. He liked this game, he liked being predicted and basked in sheer happiness whenever Neil smiled at him, signalling that they were thinking the same. Wasn´t that beauty in this world? To finally be able to talk with someone? To laugh? To dance? To read? someone to a dream about? Maybe it seemed small for Neil but the kindness he had showed him made Todd cry every time he thought about it. He took a few more seconds to think before finally saying: “Sorry, Knox but lately I´ve been more into the Stones and their blues” “Oh, you guys are the worst” Everyone laughed and the first few notes of Gimme Shelter were heard. The sun was setting, and the air was filled with cigarette smoke, everything was perfect. Todd wanted to preserve this in his head, capture it like a short film he could go over and over every time he felt alone. He tried to take it all in and took the courage to glance at Neil´s direction. Todd was certain he would be there, looking with that secret smile of his. Their eyes met through the last beams of light the sun had to offer, and when he curved his lips into a playful smirk and then a smile, they both knew he was saying: “Liar, we both know you prefer the Beatles” Todd smiled back and slightly shrugged his arms “You are welcome, Neil”

#dead poets society #anderperry #Neil Perry #todd anderson

36 notes · View notes

bakapandy · 4 years

Note

Heeey, I was wondering how do you think was the reaction of Gaara when Shinki call him “father” for the first time? I REALLY LOVE ur art, u are so talented srsly it amazes me

I’ve already drawn a comic about this, Anon

https://bakapandy.tumblr.com/post/622753176323604480/in-which-kankurou-is-a-doting-uncle-and-gaara

18 notes · View notes

wedreamedlove · 4 years

Photo

[Confessing Voice]

"Under the glimmering lights I was only watching your radiance. I'll place everything I wish to tell you in this song."

This is doing a rerun on the ENG server so what better time to post a translation on it than now? Maybe it'll encourage people to get the card. But I'm also curious about what people feel regarding the differences between the versions.

Does the Asian version seem more quiet with charged undertones while the English version is more physical? It reminds me of reviews I've read about different actors' takes on the Phantom of the Opera lol.

NOTE: This is the JP version with CN subbed lines because I needed to keep the literary reference with the song he sings.

[True Love Date]

I was meticulously checking the first broadcast of Miracle Finder for the New Year in the editing room.

It was an important broadcast related to our sponsors and our ratings this year. I looked over the show's contents with especially strict eyes.

Editing Staff: We've edited this 12 times already...

Everyone's line of sight gathered on me. They were waiting for me to give the OK.

MC: I think it's good this time. We're done with this!

Cheers rose. Looking at everyone who worked hard through consecutive all-nighters I felt bad.

MC: Good job everyone. I'll be generous with the project rewards so look forward to that!

Editing Staff: President, the person we need to thank the most is Professor Xu Mo.

I showed a confused expression.

Editing Staff: I secretly contacted Professor Xu Mo when we kept on redoing this. He gave me a lot of advice even though he was busy...

I looked at my phone screen in surprise. Two weeks earlier---

~~~

His face crossed my mind when I was troubled over this current project.

My hand moved on its own to call Xu Mo. It started to become a habit to contact him whenever I had problems.

Xu Mo picked up after several rings.

MC: Xu Mo? Are you busy right now? There's something I'd like to ask you...

Static crackled from the other side of the call. After a while, I heard Xu Mo's voice.

Xu Mo: I'm sorry but lately... I've been busy.

His tone was calm but also distant. It wasn't from exhaustion. I felt a coldness from somewhere.

MC: Don't worry. It wasn't anything serious, so...

Xu Mo: Mm. If it's nothing then I'm going to end the call.

MC: Okay...

Xu Mo didn't say anything further. That was more than enough to make me feel the distance between us.

MC: Wait!

MC: Um... you might be busy, but take care of yourself. Bye bye.

Just when I thought there was rough breathing it suddenly fell quiet. Hearing a monotone beeping, I came back to myself. Xu Mo had already ended the call.

MC: Did he hear my last words...?

Looking at the ended call I was struck by a strange feeling.

Maybe I was thinking too much? His words and speech was cold like never before.

MC: What am I thinking? Xu Mo is just busy...

Although I tried telling myself that I couldn't help but feel uneasy somewhere.

I shook my head and drove away my negative emotions. I relied too much on him. This time I needed to solve things by myself.

Editing Staff: ---President, President? Are the credits good like this?

I returned to the present after being lost in my thoughts. The words "Program Supervisor: Xu Mo" on the credits roll jumped into my eyes.

MC: W-what sort of advice did Professor Xu Mo give? Um... how did you get him to help? When was that?

Editing Staff: It was about 2 days ago. We were editing until 4AM but still had to redo everything... It was when you fell asleep on the sofa.

Editing Staff: After I called Professor Xu Mo, he asked me what happened to you, and I replied you were sleeping on the sofa.

Editing Staff: Then he ended the call saying he was busy. But the next morning an email arrived with detailed advice...

Editing Staff: The strange thing is that he wrote for me not to let you know. But you've found out already, so it's fine, right?

I wondered why Xu Mo helped when he had refused once.

(Why did he say not to let me know? Is there a problem if I know about it...?)

I also didn't understand the reason for Xu Mo's sudden coldness.

For a while there were no replies to my texts and his lectures were on break too. It was like he was distancing himself from me on purpose.

My heart clenched when I thought this.

Editing Staff: President, why don't we invite Professor Xu Mo to our New Year's party this time? He looked like he enjoyed our year-end party a few days ago and he helped us out this time too...

I said this while looking at the New Year's party notice I sent to everyone.

MC: He... seems to be busy, so he might not come.

Editing Staff: But he came to the year-end party even though he was busy, right...?

I hurried out of the editing room as if ending the topic.

On the day of the New Year's party, I came with everyone in the company to a newly opened high-class karaoke box in Lianyu City.

It was an elegant, modern, and spacious reserved room. A white grand piano and guitar were placed in front of the karaoke machine, and beside that was a small stage.

I checked my phone's text messages over and over again. A message from 3 days ago remained there.

Text: Xu Mo, my company's going to have a New Year's party at Petrichor 3 days later. If you'd like, why don't you come?

Text: You looked like you enjoyed singing at the year-end party a while ago, so I thought I'd invite you this time too. But if you're busy then please don't hesitate to refuse.

Even though the message was definitely sent there was no response. I sighed with worry and disappointment.

Yue Yue: President, why have you been staring constantly at your phone? Work is done for today!

Yue Yue quickly stole my phone, randomly touching the screen, and then placed it in front of herself.

MC: Hey, my phone...

I stretched out my hand but Yue Yue pushed a set of cards to me.

Yue Yue: You don't sing, right? Then let's play cards!

The company members around us gathered in interest. I had no choice but to pass the time playing cards with everyone.

Xu Mo's house---

The phone rang and a message arrived. It was from [NAME].

Xu Mo hesitated slightly and then picked up the phone. However, the message was just numbers and letters and he didn't understand what she wrote.

What was this? Xu Mo's expression became severe.

He searched on the internet and tried various methods but he couldn't decipher it. He felt a sense of frustration.

He wondered why she had sent this message.

Was she angry at being treated coldly? Or was it a demand for a reply to her New Year's party invitation...?

Xu Mo dialed her phone from his landline. However, only an automated voice saying "This phone has been turned off" came.

Xu Mo: What is wrong with me?

Xu Mo: When did I start caring about these conventions?

For a while, Xu Mo stared at the message which came from the girl 3 days ago. It was written with her usual detailed and kind words.

At the beginning, his objective was just to get close to her. But the closer he got the more he was drawn to her for some reason.

Xu Mo: Didn't I already decide to leave her life?

Why did he help her again even though he refused her once? Why was his heart unsettled from this incomprehensible message?

The intense pain in Xu Mo's heart insistently told him the reason. That over there was an answer he couldn't escape even if he desperately averted his eyes.

The moment the door to the karaoke room opened Xu Mo faintly understood the answer.

That he couldn't leave her.

~~~

MC: Xu Mo! You came?

Her clear eyes widened roundly and she looked at him. The person reflected in those eyes was him alone.

Xu Mo suddenly placed a hand on his chest. A thin thread was tightly squeezing his heart.

He sighed.

Forget it, he would be foolish once more with this foolish girl.

Xu Mo entered the room and sat beside her naturally.

MC: Weren't you busy?

MC: Erm, nevermind. You didn't reply so I didn't think you'd come.

Even under the dim lights he could clearly see her emotions.

There was joy and doubt.

He swallowed back the words he was about to say and softly stroked her hair.

Xu Mo: Sorry. I couldn't get through to your phone so I came here.

MC: You couldn't get through?

She looked down and searched the top of the sofa before showing him the phone, biting her lip awkwardly.

MC: I accidentally turned it off...

Xu Mo smiled lightly with some exasperation. Light and shadow were jumbled together in his eyes.

Xu Mo: Silly.

She gave a pure laugh and then, covering her face, her eyes darted around.

MC: Were you worried about me?

Xu Mo: Yes.

Xu Mo approached her and nodded without hesitation.

Yue Yue: Huh? It's Professor Xu Mo? President, you should have told us if the professor was coming.

MC: Uh... that's because...

Xu Mo: I heard everyone was having a New Year's party so I came without an invitation. I'm not interrupting, am I?

Yue Yue: No way. I was moved when I heard you singing at the year-end party. Everyone wants to hear it again!

Yue Yue said this and then ran back to the stage again to sing enthusiastically with Anna.

Xu Mo: Why aren't you singing together with them?

MC: Huh? I... don't sing much.

Xu Mo: I know. But I'd like to hear it.

My face turned red at Xu Mo's unexpected words.

MC: You're planning on teasing me again, aren't you...

The corners of Xu Mo's lips rose and then he sighed.

Xu Mo: It's true I was worried about you. It's also true that I want to hear you sing.

Xu Mo: Everything is true.

His casual words resounded in my heart more than any other noise in the room.

Yue Yue started singing a sad love song with Anna who was still on the stage.

Anna: Did you really throw away those glittering days...

Yue Yue: I had many dreams in those long nights. Don't remember me. One day you will also know pain...

Xu Mo looked at the words showing on the screen. The flickering light was reflected in his eyes.

The lively karaoke party on top of the stage repeated and, below the stage, everyone else amused themselves with games.

Seeing that Xu Mo had come everyone persistently invited him to join their game.

Gu Meng: Next is the improved version of Spin the Bottle! Whoever this beer bottle points to has to answer everyone's question. If they can't answer with the truth then as penalty they need to drink all this alcohol!

When Gu Meng clapped her hands the editing staff carried over a tray with five cups of whiskey.

Colleagues: This is overdoing it!

Looking at the lined up drinks, I became worried. I would get drunk from just one cup, so if I drank them all I might collapse.

That reminded me, I hadn't seen Xu Mo drink before. I looked at him inquisitively.

Xu Mo nodded and patted the back of my hand.

The beer bottle began to spin and then pointed at Gu Meng.

Yue Yue: Do you have someone you like?

Yue Yue, who had joined the circle at one point, began the questions. At that first question... everyone's eyes gathered on Gu Meng.

Gu Meng glared lightly at Yue Yue and then reluctantly nodded.

Cheers rose. Gu Meng spun the bottle as if trying to avenge herself. This time the bottle pointed at Xu Mo and stopped.

Yue Yue: Professor Xu Mo, is there someone you like in this room?

Gu Meng: How about trying another question?

Yue Yue: That's why I said "in this room"!

Xu Mo smiled and nodded decisively.

Xu Mo: There is.

That answer was so surprisingly clear that the area became quiet. After that cheers exploded and Gu Meng whistled.

My heart was already racing the second Yue Yue asked that question.

The person Xu Mo liked was in this room... My ears turned red and my mind went blank.

I unconsciously brought my hand back but Xu Mo grabbed it firmly.

Xu Mo: Why is your face red?

MC: Erm, uh... it's because of the drinks!

Xu Mo: But... it doesn't seem like you've drank anything yet.

MC: Umm, it's because it's hot then?

Looking at me as my voice gradually became smaller, Xu Mo chuckled beside my ear.

Yue Yue: Okay, next is Professor Xu Mo again!

The beer bottle pointed at Xu Mo again and stopped. This time Gu Meng restrained Yue Yue and asked a question.

Gu Meng: Who is the person you said you liked?

Everyone held their breath and stared at Xu Mo.

My heart wouldn't stop pounding. I looked down and reflexively pulled back the hand that was held by Xu Mo.

Xu Mo smiled, as if he understood something, and drained the drinks one after another.

Everyone was a bit disappointed and began to spin the bottle again.

I secretly glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked drunk and even his ears were red.

MC: Xu Mo, are you okay?

He nodded his head and brought his lips to my ear. His hot breath and the smell of alcohol drifted around me and it felt ticklish.

Xu Mo: I'm fine, although... you still owe me an answer.

MC: I...

I was at a loss for an answer and, at last after panicking, I fell silent. I just concentrated on touching my hair and hiding my discomposure.

Maybe it was because of the drinks or maybe the atmosphere of the place, but Xu Mo became talkative and his eyes were hazy.

Yue Yue: It's finally the president's turn!

Yue Yue and Gu Meng exchanged looks and then came up to me together.

Gu Meng: Who's the person important to you? Please be specific.

MC: How come I'm the only one who has to be "specific"?

Yue Yue: You have to keep to the rules. It's useless to try and run!

The person most important to me--- I looked at Xu Mo shyly and then breathed in deeply.

MC: That person showed me a world I didn't know about until now.

MC: He's warm but not oppressive. He's calm but not melancholic. He's a person that's like a clear sky and a deep fog.

MC: He also notices the slightest change in my feelings and taught me the laws of this world.

MC: Whenever I'm lost he leads me forward with a gentleness that surrounds me.

I sunk into my memories and continued to talk by myself, not noticing how beside me Xu Mo placed his glass down, furrowed his brows, and bit his lip...

MC: He is... a very, very important person to me.

Finished talking about my heart, I gave a deep sigh.

Colleague A: For the president to talk so passionately means that "man" isn't here, right? If he was here, then you wouldn't say this, huh~.

Yue Yue: I wanna know who it is!

MC: Hey now! Enough with the chatter, let's move on...

Everyone unanimously guessed at the "man" I talked about. Xu Mo remained silent and raised his glass, taking a mouthful of his drink.

Despite the game resuming Xu Mo seemed strange somewhere. It was like his cheer up to now had disappeared.

MC: Maybe he's drunk? He drank a lot earlier...

MC: I've never seen him drunk. I'm sure it'd be cute.

I stood in front of the sink, thinking about how he'd look drunk, and giggled.

~~~

The moment I stepped out into the hall to return to the room my arm was suddenly grabbed by someone. I was held against a sturdy chest with a force I couldn't fight against.

I was dumbfounded. The scent of summer grass and the smell of faint alcohol surrounded me.

When I came back to myself I was held tightly to Xu Mo. My back was against the wall and one of my arms was caught by him.

MC: Xu Mo...

My heart raced and I didn't know what to do.

Xu Mo looked at me with empty eyes.

Xu Mo: Is that person so important to you?

MC: Huh?

Xu Mo: Tell me. Who is that person?

Xu Mo suddenly came close, speaking in a censuring tone.

(Hold on. Didn't he hear me talk? Or... did he misunderstand?)

I looked up at Xu Mo. Complicated emotions that seemed about to overflow even now were being restrained desperately in his eyes.

MC: You've got it wrong...

Xu Mo: Tell me...

Xu Mo came even closer. The scorching heat of his presence enveloped my surroundings.

It was the first time I saw him with such a scary look. It was so surprising I had no idea what to do. I stared into his eyes and said this.

MC: It's you.

MC: ... The "man" I was talking about is you, Xu Mo. You're my important person.

Xu Mo's eyes became dazed for a second. The smell of alcohol disappeared.

MC: I was talking about you. But... it looks like I caused a misunderstanding...

Xu Mo regained his calm and quietly released my arm.

Xu Mo: I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?

MC: A little...

Xu Mo looked down and rubbed gently at my arm. I couldn't see his expression but his warmth reached up to my ears.

When we returned to the room everyone was still excited. My heart raced just from remembering what happened earlier.

Pressing on my chest, I told myself to "calm down". Then, so that he wouldn't drink any more alcohol, I secretly pulled his glass in front of me.

Yue Yue: President, you never sing, right? How about singing 1 song today at least?

Yue Yue held out the mic to me.

MC: Erm! I'll pass...

I looked at Xu Mo and nervously declined.

It wasn't that I was bad at singing. It was just that I wasn't prepared to sing in front of Xu Mo.

Yue Yue: If the president won't sing then I'll have Professor Xu Mo sing!

Hearing that, everyone became even more enthusiastic.

Xu Mo, who was looking at me, nodded. I also wanted to hear him sing.

He gave a soft smile and, holding a glass, went to the stage.

It was at that time that I finally noticed him wearing a black turtleneck and dark purple scarf.

The speckled lights shone on him and how he had a hand casually placed in his pocket. A languid and alluring atmosphere was brought out.

Xu Mo set his glass down. Then, after thinking a little, he came to me and nonchalantly took my hand and returned directly to the stage again.

He wasn't using a strong force, but there was a sense of pressure that brooked no refusal.

Before I knew it, he slotted his body against mine and placed his chin on my shoulder. The aroma of the alcohol mixed with a refreshing fragrance which was like grasslands after the rains stopped.

Xu Mo: What would you like to sing?

MC: ... Do I have to sing?

Xu Mo: I want to hear you sing.

MC: You won't be shocked after hearing my singing, right?

I raised my head and said this, pursing my lips.

Xu Mo: Then... why don't we try it?

His mouth came close to my ear and he said this in a low voice. I nodded in a dazed manner with a mind gone hazy from the alcohol.

Xu Mo operated the karaoke machine and a mellow melody rang out.

His palm covered my hand. It was a large hand which seemed to cover my hand and the mic together.

Something like a weak current seemed to run through my entire body from his dry palm...

His eyes stared straight at me... straight into the depths of my heart.

Something like a decision was reflected in those eyes.

Xu Mo: When I fall in love, it will be forever.

It was a low enrapturing voice, like a late autumn wind or the swelling night ocean. He sang with his heart in it.

That voice knocked on the door to my heart.

Memories came into my mind one after another.

The first time we met and his beautiful face under a dazzling light. The time we met in a movie theatre at midnight. That golden-colored picnic. That rainbow after the rain lifted...

All those memories rode on that singing voice and slowly flowed throughout the sparkling room.

MC: And the moment---

MC: I can feel that you feel that way too---

As we sang we came even closer together and our hands continued to remain touching.

From the beginning until the end, Xu Mo looked at me with a constant smile and eyes that held expectation.

Xu Mo: It turns out a song can be this short.

The song ended and we got off the stage.

MC: Xu Mo, you really do sing well!

Xu Mo's lips curved and he said this with mischievous eyes.

Xu Mo: Oh? Can I believe... the words of a little liar?

MC: Huh, what do you mean?

Xu Mo: I was actually looking forward to your shocking singing.

I remembered how I said earlier "You won't be shocked after hearing my singing, right?" and my face turned red.

MC: Who asked you to believe in that...

Xu Mo: Then what else have you tricked me on?

Xu Mo flicked my forehead with a finger.

MC: Um... before I said you didn't have to come if you were busy, but to be honest I really wanted you to come.

I looked at Xu Mo and, while thinking this and that, spoke awkwardly.

Xu Mo was surprised. Flickering light surged up violently in his eyes and I saw him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing.

MC: What's wrong?

He gave a long sigh and then spoke in a voice even lower than earlier.

Xu Mo: I won't do that anymore.

He looked apologetically at me.

Xu Mo: Why won't you ask if I've ever tricked you?

I blinked.

MC: Um... of course I know that you've tricked me.

Xu Mo: For example?

MC: You were clearly drunk earlier even though you said you weren't drunk. Even more, you misunderstood me...

Looking at her grumble, Xu Mo was a bit surprised and he laughed quietly. Then he drew in the glass beside his hand and drank a mouthful.

His mind was hazy. Her smile and the spotted lights swayed in front of his eyes.

He thought about how he was surely drunk. But that was fine. Being drunk was better.

The music could continue, the drinks could continue.

That way he could tell himself this. That he was taken in by this atmosphere and the alcohol. And that's what these gentle feelings and hesitation resulted from.

Xu Mo raised his glass and drained it all at once.

~~~

DATE DIARY

Everyone worked really hard for the first show of the new year. Finally, after it took shape, I learned that Xu Mo helped. I thought he had refused to though... Why?

On that day, if I remember correctly, I asked for Xu Mo's help but he refused me coldly. Why did he help me again at the critical moment? I don't really understand Xu Mo.

I thought Xu Mo wouldn't come to the New Year's party but he came on the day of. He said he became worried because I didn't answer my phone. During a game of Spin the Bottle, Xu Mo confessed for the first time that he had a person he liked.

I also talked about the person most important to me. But, because Xu Mo was drunk, he seemed to misunderstand that. I'm someone who rarely sings in front of others but for some reason I ended up in a duet with Xu Mo. There was joy in his eyes.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc xu mo #mlqc lucien #my translations

43 notes · View notes

thewritingdungeon · 4 years

Text

Discordancy #1

SUMMARY: Hawkeye has a long and varied past. He’s been a carnie, a spy, a superhero, even a brainwashed soldier. He also was, no matter how much he hates to admit it, an ex-criminal. It’s a part of his past he moved on from long ago and hoped he could just forget ever happened. But when an old associate contacts him for help, Clint is reminded that not everything he had so desperately tried to leave behind was something bad.

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Clint Barton/OFC

WORD COUNT: 2,590

WARNINGS: heavy petting

"I can't believe that worked, you beautiful bastard!" Eris cries out, draping herself in the passenger seat. "That was such a rush, I could kiss you right now!"

Clint gives an easy smile in response, leaning back now that he has the luxury of driving slower. "By all means, don't fight it if you—"

The rest of his words are lost as his face is abruptly turned and his mouth covered by soft lips pressing eagerly against his. His lips part in silent surprise, and Eris takes the opportunity to dart her tongue in to swipe against his, bringing with it a taste of smoke and cinnamon he somehow finds intoxicating. But before he can register her actions enough to kiss back, Eris is pulling away, a grin on her lips and fire in her eyes.

He should have known right then and there that she'd be trouble for him.

Clint shook the memory off as he looked up at the nondescript hotel looming above him then back down at the text that had made its way onto his phone.

Hey Francis,

Long time, no chat! Just thought I'd see how you've been doing. How's the wife? Everest is lonely without your jokes, but I'm still climbing it!

-X

It was a code he hadn't seen in a long time. Her code. She had even signed it with her usual kiss.

'Need help Ronin. Meet at hotel.'

He never thought he'd step foot back in such a place after SHIELD took him in—never thought he'd be allowed to step foot back in—but he could already feel that warm familiarity slip over him like a well-worn jacket as he stepped into the polished lobby, old habits making their way back into his gait.

"Good evening, Ronin," The Concierge warmly greeted. "It has been quite the long time since we have seen you around here. We are pleased to see you make use of our services once again."

"Evening, sir. It's, uh," Clint huffed out in incredulity, and the man's smile only grew more smug, "it sure is interesting to be back."

"And how may we help you this evening?"

Clint scratched at his chin. "Ah, I'm here to find an old friend, actually." He held up his hands in a gesture of good will at the sharp look in The Concierge's eye. "Don't you worry, I know the rules. Just looking for a drink and a chat, I swear."

The Concierge hummed noncommittally, flipping through his ledger. "Well, you're in luck that a room has already been reserved in your name, though payment will still be required." There was a slap of folded notes on the marble surface, but the man made no acknowledgement. "And you have a booth reserved in the lounge for midnight. We trust you can find your way there?"

"Mm, yeah. Thanks, man."

Clint made to take the offered room key, and was given one last unsettling smile by The Concierge. "Welcome back to Hotel Soteria, Ronin. Do let us know if you find yourself in need of any assistance."

The lounge was dim, lit sporadically with shifting colored lights meant to distract and obfuscate. There was no host to tell him which booth he was intended for, but a familiar shine of icy waves flashed through the milling crowd and gave Clint his answer. Taking quick steps forward, he left himself with no time to second guess his actions as he slid into the booth.

"You changed your hair."

He drank in the sight of the woman before him, trying his damnedest not to let the spark of familiarity burn into something more illicit. Where before had been wild white locks in a disheveled undercut, bold makeup and piercings, and a 'fuck you' attitude so common amongst rebellious youth, now stood messy silver-white waves cut sharp, with subtlety and daring balanced out in what combined into an impossibly alluring form.

And yet it was still that avid, easy grin tugging at dark, painted lips that met his words and stole his attention. "Aren't men your age supposed to start a flirtation with 'what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?' If you're not careful, I might start thinking you didn't miss me, Ronin."

Clint couldn't help but snort and roll his eyes at her greeting, "You got rid of the lip ring too."

"Aw, sad that it's gone?"

"Shouldn't you be flirting with people your own age?"

That pulled a sharp laugh from the woman, "Where would be the fun in that?"

Clint sighed; he had forgotten how...whimsical Eris could be. It was a fun trait to be around in the past, but the world had made him weary, jaded. There was no real place for exuberance in a spy's life. He didn't know how to deal with it anymore. "Get to the point, Eris. Why did you bring me here?"

A slow smile spread across her face, and Eris leaned forward, voice a husky whisper, "I've got something I think you'll really want to get a hold of."

Clint had been so wrapped up in not staring at her that he didn't quite grasp what Eris had intended when she told him she had something for him. It wasn't until he felt the heat of her slide onto his lap to straddle him that Clint realized the trouble he was in.

Rough, half-gloved hands cupped his face as Eris leaned down to press an eager kiss to his lips. His mind went blank, arousal and habit taking over to urge his mouth to move against hers. He dragged her closer by her hips, earning him a gasp that let him slip his tongue inside to explore her mouth. Clint smirked into the kiss; it was rare he was able to surprise the chaotic woman.

He buried a hand into her hair, letting him control their movements and deepen the kiss as Eris's touch burned a trail down his chest. His advantage was quickly lost, however, when she dipped a hand into the waistband of both his jeans and underwear, careful to keep away from where he suddenly found himself wanting her touch the most. A ragged moan escaped Clint from the combination of that teasing brush and the harsh bite to his lower lip.

"I'll wait up for you," she whispered, placing another short peck against his swollen lips.

And then the warmth of her body was gone. Clint blinked as he tried to understand what had just happened, but Eris had already disappeared.

"Damn girl's trying to give me a heart attack with her games, I swear," he groaned. "Can't she just leave an old man alone?"

Taking a moment to adjust himself, Clint palmed the flash drive Eris had slipped into his pants, moving it to a more secure location with the sly tricks years spent in the circus had taught him. He tipped back his beer and waited, looking as much like a man who had just been teased as any around him. All he needed to do was keep blending in a little bit more; then, he could escape to his room and see what the job was that awaited him.

Clint locked the door of his hotel room, slumping forward to lean his head against the polished wood with a frustrated groan. Why, of all the people he had teamed up with in his past, did it have to have been Eris that made contact with him again?

He thought back to all the jobs they had pulled off together. The bright, brilliant, chaotic demolitions prodigy who lived up to her alias was a surprising complement to his pinpoint efficiency as a marksman and hired sword. She was an explosion unto herself, and at only age 18, she truly had been a force to be reckoned with. So why she had taken after that first heist to teasing and flirting with a man over ten years her senior, Clint would never understand.

His mind brought up flashes of moments witnessed firsthand of how she liked to play with those who caught her interest like toys, and when she was done she'd leave them behind just as easily as one. It was all a game in her mind. Which made it all the more frustrating for Clint. As much as he hated to admit it, he was drawn to Eris, but he refused to play her games and be another crushed pawn. The age gap didn't help matters either. God, every time he thought about her made him feel like a dirty, old man. It was even worse now that he actually was a dirty, old man.

"A gorgeous woman is waiting for you on your bed, and you choose getting personal with a door instead?" He heard an undignified snort from behind him. "You're a better gentleman than me, Ronin."

Clint sighed. He wasn't surprised by her presence in his room: she hadn't given him a room number to meet him at, after all. He turned and made his way to the encrypted computer that came with every guest room in the hotel, ignoring Eris as she swung her legs back and forth off the side of the single bed. "That's because you are neither gentle nor a man," he remarked tersely, settling into the leather chair. "I don't see why you had to go and grope me to slip me the damn thing if you were just gonna meet me in the room anyway."

"Cuz then I wouldn't have had an excuse to kiss you!" Came Eris's cheerful response."

Yeah, yeah. This USB of yours got extra encryption already on it?"

"It's safe."

"All right, let's see what problems you're dragging me into now." He plugged in the drive and immediately a single folder popped up:

Project Shadrak.

Clint clicked through the folder, and dozens of files appeared on the screen, each one detailing a job right down to grainy, camera-feed clips of the woman in question. "Eris, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Silence hung heavy in the air for a single moment.

"…A week and a half ago, I found a bug in my apartment," she began from behind him, voice quiet. "I sweep the place regularly, so I don't know how long it had been there, but I could've sworn it couldn't have been for long. Then a few days later, an unmarked envelope was left inside my door, lock still secure. It contained that flash drive and details on every job I've ever pulled since joining the Underground."

He spun the chair to face her, eyes hard at the implication of her words. "Why didn't you have someone trace the data? Why not check your security system feeds? What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm a hired gun, Eris, not a hacker. And I'm not even that anymore."

"I tried!" She bit out in frustration. "Once any hacker saw the flash drive's encryption, they refused to help me. Wouldn't even tell me why!"

"And what exactly do you think involving me is going to help with?"

"Don't you get it?!" Clint faltered at the distress in her voice and watched as she gripped at the roots of her hair and tugged on the strands. "They have data on every. single. job. I've done! That means they have this information on you too! You're in danger, Francis!"

Her voice broke on his false name, and Clint felt his ingrained defensiveness crack at the sound. "What about other partners you've had; have you warned them too?"

He had thought by now nothing Eris could do nothing to surprise him anymore. But then, she shifted her gaze from his, looking awkward as she muttered, "I haven't had any other partners on jobs..."

Clint blinked, “What?”

“Look, I-I don’t— I just— Before you agreed to work with me, no one wanted to work with a technical teenager, all right?” Eris crossed her arms. “After the Italy job and the banker, I got a reputation for being difficult to work with. I don’t—” she cut herself off with a petulant huff, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I just don’t really play well with others, okay? It’s usually better for everyone if I’m hired for design work or solo jobs.”

“You worked with me just fine,” he pointed out.

Eris threw her hands up in the air, exasperation weaving its way through her words, “Yeah, and I got known for that too! You were known as the only one who could ‘handle’ me, as one employer put it. Did no one ever bring it up to you?”

“Honestly, I never really thought about it,” Clint admitted. “Usually was too busy thinking about the shit coffee they always gave us.”

“Yeah, well, it was said to me enough times. So there’s no one else to warn, you happy?”

Eris was dangerously close to pouting, and it made it difficult to keep the serious expression on his face that the situation called for. “Fine, I’ll help you find out who’s after you so that both our backs are in the clear. But after that you’re on your own, Eris. I can’t be seen back in this life.”

“Thank you, Ronin,” she breathed. The next instant, Clint found himself in a crushing hug.

“Oof. Er, I can’t help if you break me, all right? Jeez, I forgot how freakishly strong you are.” Clint rubbed his back as Eris stepped away and sighed. “We’ll head out around noon tomorrow to speak to the last hacker you brought the stick to. For now, get the hell out of my room and get some rest, okay?”

#Clint Barton #hawkeye #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton x oc #clint barton x reader #marvel comics #MCU #Clinton Francis Barton #clint barton x ofc #hawkeye x oc #hawkeye x reader

21 notes · View notes

yourlocalmusicalprostitute · 5 years

Text

Girl From Ipanema Brian May x Fem!POC!Reader

A/N: reposting this cause it got lost just like my Rog oneshot the first time, this is very self indulgent, sorry if its boring, please excuse any errors. a deaky oneshot will be up eventually; ships are still open sorry for the long post, Im on mobile

warnings: mentions of alcohol, anxious Bri

Song inspo

Brian swirled his fingers around the stout glass waiting for him on one of many tables spread throughout Freddie's new home. He served himself a glass of whiskey, a pair ice cubes floating in it, just to start him off for the night. Brian was no prude; he usually enjoyed Freddie's parties, especially the ones Freddie took the time to plan and gave themes to. Brian simply chose to ease himself into party mode at a steady pace, contrary to Roger who swan dived into any party as soon as he stepped through the threshold.

It would be unlike Freddie to move into a new home and not have a celebration for new beginnings. The verbal invitation he gave Brian over the phone went something along the lines of, "Everyone should be dressed in their finest linen! Not a single person who isn't dripping in jewels may find their way in."

The drama in Freddie's voice was warranted for this occasion. Queen had been working themselves to the bone, and there were finally fianances to show for it. Roger treated himself to a car. John bought a home just the same as Freddie, but his was for himself and Veronica with a much less extravagant house warming party. Brian had yet to come up with a way to pamper himself with the tad bit of extra money in his pocket, or if he even wanted to.

"Brian!" Freddie's voice took Brian out of his state of contemplation, making him stand and hug his close friend.

"The place is lovely, Fred." He complimented sincerely, which Freddie acknowledged thankfully with a smile before he got into the reason he interrupted Brian's thinking session.

"Thank you darling, but listen, this is my party and I refuse to let you go home alone. Now c'mon! Roger is already..." Freddie paused his words to purse his lips dramatically, "mingling." The last word of Freddie's sentence was drawn out and Brian knew exactly what he meant.

Almost reluctantly, Brian followed Freddie to the main crowd of people. The crowd consisted mostly of individuals the band knew with the few people who had only heard of the party buzz sprinkled in. No one that Brian had any real interest speaking to, though he was polite and downed his whiskey as a way to remain as such.

A hand glided over Freddie's shoulder causing him to turn around. The hand belonged to a loyal customer of his when he and Roger sold clothes in Kensington market. Freddie stepped to the side to allow whomever caught his attention to step into the circle as he introduced them.

"This is Y/N! The only person who could negotiate prices with me at Kensington market. Might I add Y/N has a wonderful fashion sense." Freddie gestured to the gown that adorned Y/N's curves.

The gown was velvet. Brian couldn't tell if it were purple or blue due to the lighting, but it didn't really matter. Brian was smitten with Y/N at first glance and when he took a glance around the room, it seemed that everyone else was as well.

Y/N made Brian nervous and that was evident as his adams apple bobbed roughly when he swallowed. She had extended a hand out to Brian, there was a dainty diamond bracelett on her wrist that dangled as he shook her hand.

"It's so great to meet you. Freddie mentions you all the time." Y/N let her hand linger in Brian's. His grip was strong, but he didn't crush her hand,something she admired in a man. Not to mention the smile that stretched across Brian's face, or his broad shoulders, or the pants he was wearing that clung so wonderfully to his-

"Y/N, dear are you alright? You're staring at poor Brian, making him nervous!" Freddie cackled standing on the side of her. Immediately Y/N retreated her hand, her face pulled into an embarrassed smile and diverted her gaze from Brian.

"Sorry." Y/N said between a small laugh. She brought her eyes back up to Brian.

He shook his head, "No apology needed."

"I'm going to get myself a drink, Fred." Y/N excused herself with one last nod to Brian and a pat on Freddie's shoulder. Brian watched as Y/N walked away. His eyes roamed from her tightly coiled hair pulled into a slick high bun, to her bare back cut out from her dress, and down to her bottom sitting perfectly on her back. She was the definition of lovely.

"Brian if you don't go get her I will!" Freddie teased.

"You go ahead mate, I don't think I'm her type." Brian looked down at his empty glass. He thought Y\N was utterly gorgeous, but there were a plethora of men eyeing her, he was surely at the bottom of her list.

"Brian, are you blind or dumb?" Freddie asked curtly.

"What?" Brian laughed out his question.

"Did you see the way she looked at you?"

"Fred that doesn't mean any-"

"If you saw it that means you're dumb." Freddie sipped his champagne in disappointment.

"Well I could've told you that mate!" A cheery an raspy voice announced from behind both Freddie and Brian.

"Roger tell Brian he's being utterly ridiculous to think he's not attractive enough to get that woman over there." Freddie pointed towards the kitchen island serving as a bar. Y/N sat there with her back turned to the trio smiling but simultaneously brushing off any suitors that came by.

Roger tilted his head to get a better view. "I don't know," surely he did, he just wanted to see the slighty irritated look on Brian's face, "but she surely is right up my alley." Roger, to drive his point home, straightened his posture and began to make steps toward Y/N.

Freddie grabbed his jacket. "Hold on, lover boy. That's Brian's woman."

"Well he doesn't want her!" Roger argued.

"You couldn't be more wrong Rog." Brian corrected. He had finally decided that he couldn't reject her if he didn't try to talk to her.

Freddie smiled and gave Brian a few pats on the shoulder. "Go get 'er tiger." He encouraged. Roger gave Brian a smile and a raise of his eyebrows to further encourage him, and before Brian could come up with a reason to avoid conversation with Y/N, his legs walked him over to her.

"Hi." His greeting was a little too low for Y/N to hear. She kept her back turned to him, nursing a glass of champagne. Brian stepped closer, swallowing the growing frog in his throat before speaking again. "Hi." He said a little louder this time.

Y/N turned in surprise, but instantly smiled at the sight of the tall man before her. "Hi." She mimicked sweetly. "What brings you over here?"

Brian looked down at his empty glass and raised it a bit. "This." He stated first. "And you." Brian then stated with a little bit of uncertainty.

Y/N kept her smile and gestured to the empty stool next to her. "Then you better sit." Brian placed himself on the stool and turned his body toward Y/N.

"What are you drinking?" She asked sweetly.

"Whiskey, please." Brian gulped after his words as he watched Y/N pour his drink slowly.

A silence fell among the two of them. Brian's streak of confidence was short lived; it brought him over to Y/N, but didn't stay long enough for him to hold a conversation. Brian was regretting his decision and started to apologize the same time Y/N wanted to speak.

Brian shut his mouth quickly and shook his head. "Please, you first." He gestured toward Y/N and she giggled.

"I was just going to invite you to dance." She stated trying her best to control the wide grin Brian seemed to coax out of her with just a look.

"I was going to say the same thing." Brian chuckled as smoothly as possible. He followed his lie with a final swig of whiskey before standing. He held a hand out to Y/N, slightly shaking. She smiled and landed her hand into his.

Brian's hand was warm despite it previously holding a cold glass of alcohol. She was more than happy that Brian accepted her offer to dance, but she was silently kicking herself.

He was going to find out the hard way that Y/N had two left feet.

#brian may #brian may x reader #dr brian may #brian harold may #queen #queen band #queen fanfiction

60 notes · View notes

badwolfwrites-sometimes · 5 years

Text

Missing you

Not Drawn Together, but have some post WW2 GerIta reunion I wrote months ago. Because why not?

10 years.

I spent 10 years in this prison.

War crimes.

I don't deny it. I was stupid. I was stupid to trust my boss. It was so stupid, so blind of me to kill that many innocent people.

People like him.

Today is the first day after 10 years that I get to see him. I missed him a lot. That smile whenever he made or ate pasta, that silky hair of his, that scent of grass after a spring rain that was always around him. And that white flag of his which I proudly held upon my surrender. They let me keep it. The only thing that reminded me of him. My Feliciano.

I knew at the time that what I was doing was so wrong, but I had no control over it. I felt my heart and mind run to him in the moments when living was impossible. At first I refused it, denied it, but slowly, I let myself feel it. I let myself fall in love with him.

And being this close to seeing him again, it took guts to contain my excitement.

Alfred arrived quite early thankfully. He was supposed to drive me home and make sure I don't start plotting another war. Like hell I would. I don't need more years in prison. I don't need more years away from Feliciano.

"You ready, Ludwig?" He smiled at me. One of his cocky smiles as usual. I guess he hasn't changed at all in these 10 years.

I didn't respond. The officer opened the door and I walked out. He took off the handcuffs and I stretched my arms. It's been so long after all. I looked at Alfred and offered a polite smile. His hair grew a bit longer and he wasn't wearing his uniform anymore. He was dressed quite nicely, nevertheless. He wore a suit which I believe was to make him look "cooler".

"Let's go big guy. No more wars. Your brother is with Ivan, but I'm sure you knew that already. Now, do you have any wishes? Some ice cream?" Alfred asked, making a disgusted face at the mention of Ivan. There were some tensions between them.

"If you don't mind, actually, I'd like to go visit Feliciano. We were close during the war and I'm sure he misses me." I said, trying not to sound too suspicious.

Alfred looked at me and smiled almost sadly.

"All the time." He said in a quiet voice.

It wasn't a very long drive. I was surprised I had been this close to Feliciano all this time, but upon looking closely, I noticed it was a graveyard. Why would he take me to the graveyard?

"You'll find him here. Just go to the very middle, under the biggest tree there. I'll stay in the car." Alfred said quickly and opened the door for me.

I exited and felt my heart beating faster than ever before. What is going on? It can't be... Is Feliciano alright?

I walked into the graveyard. They always made me feel sick. So many good and bad people, all in one place. All dead and rotting. Ironic, but at the same time disgusting. I rushed past the gravestones, hoping to reach the tree as quickly as possible. Various scenarios running through my head. And finally, I was there.

And I felt my eyes tear up.

But I smiled.

Because right before my eyes, under the tall tree, sleeping next to a gravestone that said Romulus Vargas, Feliciano's grandfather, was my beautiful Feliciano.

I walked up to him, trying not to wake him up, and sat next to him. There was so much I wanted to say to him. So many questions to ask him. But I couldn't. I couldn't wake him up. Instead, I just whispered:

"I'm home, Feliciano."

We stayed like that for about an hour, but it felt too short for me. Time always passed by quickly when I was with him. When Pact of Steel was signed, for example. We were together all day and yet, it felt like only a couple of minutes.

Feliciano soon started to turn around, attempting to find the perfect position. He soon rolled over to my chest and I held him, almost laughing at the confused face he made before he opened his eyes.

He looked up at me sleepily, his hand reaching up to touch my face and upon contact, I placed my own on his. He smiled softly before closing his eyes again.

"If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up." He whispered, relaxing his head on my chest. I smiled and kissed his hand that was on my cheek.

"It's not a dream, Feliciano. I'm here. After so many years, I'm here with you." I stroked his hair gently before he suddenly lifted his head up, his eyes wide open.

"Ludwig?" He called for me and taking his hand back to touch all over me and finally slapping himself to, presumably, make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Yes, it's actually me. You're not dreaming." I reassured him.

"It's you! Oh Dio mio, it's you! After 10 years, it's still you!" Feliciano smiled and cried at the same time, hugging me like a child their mother. Like a faithful wife her soldier husband. And I hugged him back. I hugged him like I was going to lose him if I let go for just a second.

He let go first and wiped away his tears, never taking his eyes off of me. Even I had to surpass my tears from the joy of seeing him. And that was tough as hell.

"But what are you doing here? I mean, I'm happy, oh Ludwig, I'm so happy. But why did you come here? You hate graveyards, Ludwig." He said as quickly as his mouth allowed him. I expected no less.

"Alfred brought me here on my request. I had a feeling you would want to see me first. They let me out on good behavior." I answered. Hopefully that covered most of his questions.

"Ve~ I knew they would let you go. You're not a horrible person, Ludwig. I've been saying that for 10 years, but no one really listened. It doesn't matter, though. They still let you out. Ah, I have to introduce you!" He clapped his hands quickly and turned me around to face his grandfather's gravestone.

"This is my nonno. It's sad that you can't meet him in person, but such is a life of a country. You would have liked him, Ludwig. He had the best bedtime stories ever. Most of them were about cute girls though. I've been having nightmares since they took you to prison so I've been coming here every day." I stopped him there.

"Every day? For 10 years?" I was surprised, but, when you think about it, that does sound like something he would do.

"Yeah. It was either that or not sleeping at all and since not sleeping is bad for your health..." Honestly, he has no impulse control at all.

"So is sleeping on the cold gravestone." I told him, but I could tell he didn't listen.

"And I wanted to look my best for when I could see you again so I took naps here to reduce bags under the eyes. Oh, but you saw me here when I was sleeping. Oh Dio, how did I look? Did I look horrible? Do I still look horrible?" He began to wave his arms around in the air frantically. He does that sometimes. He's careless like that, but then he worries about his looks. I will never understand him.

"You look fine, Feliciano. Besides, I could care less what you look like right now. I'm just lucky enough to be able to see you now." That seemed to calm him down.

However, that made me rethink my choice in words. He has no idea that I love him after all and I have been dropping hints like a 14 year old girl with a crush. I blushed and looked away, covering my mouth.

Now or never, Ludwig. He deserves to know. He deserves to know what kept you sane and alive for more than 10 years.

"Ludwig?" He called for me softly as I was preparing myself to confess my feelings for him as well as possible rejection.

"Hm?" I hummed, unable to say anything.

"Do you still like me?"

His question stirred up a wave of emotions inside of me. Yes. My body and mind screamed. Yes, I still like you. I love you, Feliciano. But no words came out. Instead, I blushed harder.

"I betrayed you, Ludwig. Forced to, but it still counts as betrayal. I left you to suffer alone in the war while I ran away to hide. The thoughts, Ludwig... The thoughts of you hating me for what I did. They gave me the worst nightmares. Please, Ludwig, please say you don't hate me." He begged me. His eyes, his words, everything about him begged me not to say that I hated him. I closed my eyes for a moment and smiled.

"How can I hate you, Feliciano? How can I hate you when you were the very reason I made it through the war, through these horrible years in prison? How can I hate you when your smile chases all the dark clouds of my mind away? How can I hate you when, even when I knew what my fate would be like if anyone knew, I let myself fall in love with you? How do I hate you when my heart and mind are screaming that I love you all the time?" And finally, I said it.

Feliciano was making a face that I have never seen before. It appeared to be a mixture of shock, happiness and something else I couldn't quite place. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead closed them when no sound came. He tried again, only making himself look like a fish and making me start to regret saying anything. That was until he spoke:

"Me too, Ludwig! I love you too! Dio mio, ti voglio bene, Ludwig!" He almost screamed which shouldn't have surprised me, but after a long separation, it did. I never understood a word when he spoke in Italian, but this... This I understood perfectly.

"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. I love you so much." I said as I placed my hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer. I felt his arms lifting and his hands cupping my cheeks as we both pulled each other closer until our lips met in a warm, long awaited kiss.

It wasn't too short, but it wasn't long either. And it still left the feeling that I need more so as soon as we both breathed a little air, we clashed our lips again. The sensation of it so sweet and so welcoming and the Sun was already setting before we realized how much time passed.

"Do you want to come over? I understand if you don't, after all you haven't been home for a while. I just really don't want you to be alone anymore. You did 10 years of that." Feliciano said and I kissed his temple.

"Of course I want to. However, you would have to ask Alfred that. He's probably still waiting for me in the car." I said and laughed. It was a rare occasion that I laugh, but Feliciano brought out the best in me. Alfred has an attention span of a spoon standing up, there was no way he would still be sitting in the car.

"Oh, Alfred is easy to convince. Just bring up that Ivan would let you stay for the night and he would offer to let you stay for a week." Feliciano laughed too. He seemed aware of the rivalry and knew how to use it well. There's a lot of things I need to catch up on.

He stood up and pulled me along. He let his hand gently touch my cheek and I relaxed into his touch.

"Let's go then. Let's not keep him waiting any longer." He said and kissed me again, grabbing a hold of my hand as we walked towards the exit of the graveyard.

10 years of waiting.

And we finally stand by each other.

Hand in hand.

Like lovers.

#GerIta #hws gerita #aph GerIta #APH #hws #hws north italy #hws germany #hws america #hetalia #APH Germany #aph north italy #APH Italy #hws italy #feliciano vargas #ludwig beilschmidt #alfred f jones

20 notes · View notes

woofety · 5 years

Text

URL music game

rules: spell out your URL with song titles and tag some friends

I was tagged by @doedreamss (thank you, dearie!! <3 )

Since I already did this game once with my main blog URL, I hope you won’t mind me doing this with my Black Sails sideblog (which is rather abandoned atm but I promise I haven’t forgotten it and I’ll start posting there again eventually I don’t know to whom I talking to maybe the 2-3 people who follow me both here and there lol)... the name is also longer, so more songs yay (as if you were asking that lmao)!! ;)

Andante, andante - Lily James (Mamma mia! 2 OST) // all right, I didn’t mean to return to my Mamma mia! obsession phase - it was bad enough when the first movie got out - but I got to listen to one song (which was not this one, but another song about a student kissing her teacher, rather creepy if you think about it but the music is so engaging it’s still stuck in my head, damn it) by chance and started roaming through the soundtrack of this sequel (which I haven’t seen yet tbh, actually by choice since I already know a thing about the story that upsets me a lot, but I guess I’ll eventually watch it because the songs aren’t bad, though I’ve had the impression that the level of silliness is not even close to the first movie and that’s what I actually enjoyed about it in the first place :p ) and I got to listen to this song and :’) - I’m not even one for love songs but this is so sweet and warm and intimate and Lily James’ voice is delightful so yeah, another one bound to be stuck in my head for days! also it doesn’t help that I’ve been thinking about Philinda slow dancing to this song I have a HUGE problem

Never give up on your dreams - Two Steps From Hell // HA, my mandatory TSFH mention when I talk about music! XD (and be grateful it’s the only one as I tried to make the list varied) One of my favourites (mh, I say that A LOT regarding TSFH but oh well :p ), so moving and epic and heart-lifting, I’m undone whenever I listen to this, like, I can’t function, it’s almost too much for me! :’)

Amazing grace - J2 (feat. Chelsea Caroline) // Oh, I love J2′s covers of songs, they’re so badass!! This is a more pop-rock/epic rendition than the usual hymn, but I find it great, and the singer’s voice is powerful and rich!

Taking the hobbits to Isengard - Erwin Beekveld // I legit have this song in my music playlist - I mean, how could I not?! XD This will NEVER be outdated and not legendary!!

I’ve no more fucks to give - Thomas Benjamin Wild. Esp. // About this song I’m just going to say LIFE GOALS!!! This is the level I aspire to achieve hands down!

Only happy when it rains - Garbage // I blame the Captain Marvel soundtrack for bringing back this song, which rocks and sometimes is also a BIG mood!!

Northern lights - Gaelic Storm // aaaaaaand Gaelic Storm is another band that tends to pop up when I get to speak about music! I love, love, LOVE this song, it’s so touching and enchanting and soothing and, dare I say, romantic... <33

One day - Hans Zimmer // catch me crying whenever I hear this goddamn piece... especially the godforsaken end, man... you know the scene when it plays... ;_______;

Fat bottomed girls - Red Hot Chilli Pipers // whoo hoo, catch me headbanging and dancing all around at this!! I love the original song, of course, but this version with BAGPIPES!!!!!!!! INSTANT LOVE, it was!!!! (well, it does good on my self-esteem a bit as well, since I think I can consider myself a part of this “category” of ladies celebrated by the song ;) )

Today we rise - Luke Youngblood (Galavant OST) // have I begged you today to watch this show??!! This is one of my absolute FAVOURITES in the whole soundtrack and I get to sing along proudly every chance I get (which happens basically when I’m alone, since I have to skip this soundtrack while I’m outside in public because if I listened to it I would surely start smiling and giggling like an idiot and people would certainly think me mad) ... lol, Sid always complained about never having the opportunity to do a proper performance and in the end he was given one of the most brilliant songs to sing!!! :D I’m almost, ALMOST tempted to follow him into battle - surely I’ll sing the hell out of it until the end, only to likely hide with the other peasants because well, once you think about what you’re singing you’re not exactly encouraged to pursue!! XD

Helvegen - Wardruna // wow, this song always sends me chills down my spine, so haunting and enchanting!!!

In the end - 2WEI // I blame AOS season 6′s trailer for making me listen to this, although I already heard other pieces of 2WEI... What can I say, I’m rather drawn to epic covers of songs (although I still love the original song to bits)...

El tango de Roxanne - Ewan McGregor, Jacek Koman, José Feliciano (Moulin Rouge OST) // I rewatched the movie not long time ago and this song never fails to fuck me up, I always arrive at the end choked up... I love the soundtrack of this movie!

Vespertine (My crimson bride) - Kamelot // Can’t explain why, but this song, rather than being a fucking WONDER, has also been an anchor for me when my grandmother died... I don’t know really why it kept playing in my head during that period, but it was actually a soothing balm for my wounded heart and my broken thoughts, so I’m really grateful to it for keeping me steady (well, as steady as I could have been in that circumstance)... I love this song (and its album) to bits!!!

Everybody needs somebody to love - The Blues Brothers // This song (and its soundtrack and movie) is a sure antidote to sadness for me, nothing more to say!!

Sailing for adventure (on the big blue wet thing XD) - Muppet Treasure Island OST // let’s end on a VERY serious note, shall we?! Yep, I totally have this song on my phone and every time I listen to it I feel like I could embark on a ship and sail away! (though I’m rather sure I’d end up joining the two “figureheads” singing “should have took the train!” because I may get sea sick or something XD ) Can we appreciate the human actors singing along though?! Well, apart from the marvelous Tim Curry, of course...

I’m tagging (always, if you haven’t done it before and feel like it <3) @whitestnoise, @thelifeinmyshadesofgrey, @tirairgid, @queen-of-love-and-beauty, @valentinaonthemoon, @mednay, @ennaih ... Oh, I don’t know really, whoever wants to do this!! :)

#doedreamss #tag game #did I have to comment the songs as well? of course not #did I do it anyway? obviously!! :p

8 notes · View notes