#like she's SO logical and would fight every argument with clear logic but

[bhaalsdeepbat]

The tadfools were just SO connected for such a long amount of time that I can't imagine them seeing each other as anything but family after a good run, especially a good Resist Durge run. I think they'd swoop right in for one another like they were siblings if they absolutely needed something.

#bat rambles #processing some planning thoughts cus like #single mom lae'zel who is crushing it but could still use a hand #and finds it more enjoyable when motherhood involves the village all stepping in to help in different ways #little miss “power for the individual at the cost of the strength of the collective” would like #i think motherhood would be fulfilling if it was as nontraditional as githyanki birth gets #enjoying the rearing and comfort but struggling with handling xan when he's being difficult #bc if you were difficult in creche k'liir you put a target on your back #so she doesnt know how to handle how difficult and nonsensical toddlers can be #like she's SO logical and would fight every argument with clear logic but #toddlers do not give a shit #that would be a nightmare for her #wyll and shadowheart would be the top two for dealing with that stage #wyll would be able to play along in a way that he can redirect them #redirection KING #shadowheart is just so playful and patient #she would get frustrated but i think she'd be at a point where she'd just #appreciate even being able to have this moment and commit it to memory #karlach is perfect with all the kids she's the cool aunt #so she encourages the chaos instead of reigning it in #she also would be the one to get them hyped up on sugar and drop them off but not maliciously #astarion would do it maliciously

[atopvisenyashill]

what if jacaerys velaryon was born a girl, would rhaenyra name her heir of the throne?

That would be up to Viserys at that point and it would be fun bc he’d finally have to clarify what the fuck he’s trying to do with the succession.

If he names a girl Jacaerys his heir before Rhaenyra has even attempted having a second child, there’s gonna be questions like “what are we dornish or something” that he’s going to have to deal with.

If he skips over Jacaerys and names Lucerys as Rhaenyra’s heir, people are probably going to ask “well why did you skip Jacaerys but not Rhaenyra?” and he’s going to have to have an answer besides “shut up.” - and his answer could be a lot of things tbh, bc “the king chooses his heir” is Not precedent you need to be setting while at the same time, “No female line can inherit ever” is an equally terrible and stupid precedent. he’s got free range to craft whatever the fuck rationale he wants and make it sound logical, bc look at jaehaerys & the doctrine of exceptionalism. he rode balerion ffs, these people will probably mostly fall in line if he has a maester draft a technicality rule!

I think especially if he skips Jace, names Luke, and then marries them to each other (huge risk if they’re still obviously harwin’s kids, btw), Alicent is just gonna be sitting there like “now wait a goddamn minute.”

If you’re sitting here thinking “both of those options sound like a mess” that’s because it is a mess :) “No female line can inherit” and Rhaenyra being named over Daemon cannot exist in the same world because according to GC 101, an uncle comes before a cousin and a male cousin comes before a daughter, every single goddamn time. Viserys doesn’t clarify his position here bc his position is “my brother is annoying as shit and i feel guilty that i left my daughter without a mother the way i was left without a mother” and that’s not like, a law, it’s a vibe. he then continues not clarifying after remarrying, having a son, AND naming that fucking son Aegon. But if Rhaenyra also has a firstborn daughter, it's not as easy for Viserys to just kinda "aw shucks" and mumble his way out of the room.

I also genuinely don't know what Rhaenyra would do. She's not fighting for absolute primogeniture (though she would have been in a better position if she had decided to fight for it). What she's fighting for is her father's right to name her as heir and her own right to be named as heir. It's about her situation specifically which was complicated when she was named and became more complicated after her brothers were born; there's precedent in story that someone can just name their heir and bypass the whole ~structure~ if there's not a clear line of inheritance, like Jeyne Arryn bypassing her first cousin (because he attempted to usurp her) for her fourth cousin (because he was loyal) and the Iron Throne backing up Jeyne's decision, and this is clearly how Rhaenyra is treating her own ascension. Rhaenyra is the exception the same way Targaryen incest is the exception to the Faith.

When the question of women inheriting over brothers comes up, she sides against absolute primogeniture because Corlys advises her to do so - and I like him but I am once again saying that Corlys is to blame for almost all of the dumb shit inheritance decisions that Rhaenyra makes, because Rhaenyra defaults to his "wisdom" as her advisor. Obviously Rhaenyra is incredibly short sighted in both placing too many unhatched eggs in Corlys' shit ass basket as well as treating her own ascension as somehow different than women inheriting over men, but you can kinda see the argument she's going for, she's just doing it badly (because she has bad advisors). She's saying her ascension was special because of the lack of heirs at the time and that you can't unname the Crown Princess, and she's very clearly backing away from setting any sort of precedent regarding literally anything else. She's amazingly similar to her father in that way; conflict averse but with a terrifying temper. And like I said up top, a girl Jacaerys forces both Rhaenyra and Viserys to finally look at the mess they, the Hightowers, and Jaehaerys made of the line of succession and fix it.

#viserys the peaceful #rhaenyra targaryen #gender politics in asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #jacaerys targaryen #asks #anons #to be clear this is 100% book verse. show rhaenyra is different in many ways chief among them being she's in a worse position politically #AND socially while also having the moral high ground more firmly. #i thought thorugh this one a lot alskjfkldj it really is the ultimate question about her

[starry-blue-echoes]

I love how jotaro is just a cryptid in most of your aus, especially golden wind.

Just how many crypt traits carry over from au to au? Just... make a cryptid jotaro. Cryptid Ocean Man Au.

ERGHERJGRDRCBDGF

What if Holly ended up visiting the Foundation when she was a young woman and there was a Containment Breach, during which she accidentally found this small kid and logically decides "okay, it's dangerous right now, gotta keep this kid safe" and lets the little Jotaro into her hiding spot. Maybe she even gives him a candy she had in her bag (Holly seems like to kind of person who'd have the Magic Bag Of Everything and no matter what you need or want she's got it)

and on his end of things Jotaro's decided "I've only known this woman for a few minutes but if anything happened to her I'd kill everyone here and then myself"

And then once he's been contained again and Holly goes back home, he just. Keeps managing to break out and always manages to make his way back to her. Doesn't matter what security measures they use or if they relocate him to the other side of the world, he always manages to get out and just chills with Holly, even if it's just for a couple hours

eventually (with some very convincing arguments and a whole slideshow from Holly), they end up just. Letting Holly keep him because aside from when he breaks out, he's not actually doing any harm and seems to genuinely only want to be with her. They do set some very strict guidelines on what Jotaro is and isn't allowed to do and make it clear that any trouble will get him right back to the facility, and some of the Foundation workers who check in probably aren't..... the kindest to him, but Holly is a damn good mother and more than makes up for it

I'll admit I don't know too much about SCPs, but I had a possible thought for Jotaro's Thing

What if he has a kind of learning/mimicking/creating type thing that only affects himself with almost limitless boundaries except it has to be what he wants on a deep, internalized level. He wanted to hide and be seen as a non-threat, so he took the form of a seemingly helpless human child. He wanted to be with Holly again, so he was able to escape every time and find her no matter where he was taken. He wanted to be her son, so he seems to grow and age like a human. He wants to protect her, so he "grows up" to be big and strong and capable

But with all this knowledge, everything he knows and everything he can be...... it can blend together and leads to him being socially awkward. He has difficulties communicating and sometimes he gets stuck in loops of indecision when he can't figure out what would be the best to do or say and then can get frustrated when people don't understand what he means. His family is usually pretty good at recognizing when he has these moments, but to outsiders it can be difficult

SCP Jotaro would probably be a bit different from Canon Jotaro.

For one, I don't think he'd lash out at Holly. Even more so than in canon, Holly is one of the only people he can trust because she is one of the only people he knows will fight for him if the Foundation tries to take him back. A small part of him is terrified of her deciding one day to just let them take him, but most of him knows that she would never. She is his mother and he is her son. They protect each other.

As for another, when he does lash out, he'd have to be W A Y more careful about when and how. Skipping school and the like would be mostly fine, but getting into fights? That is a HARD no because even if he didn't start them it would still be dangerous and pose a risk toward him getting taken away again. This....... actually adds another layer to him locking himself in the cell when Star manifests and he accidentally hurts those guys

#this was so much fun to think about #initial thoughts #swcp foundation #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #star platinum #jjba holly #holly kujo #sb answers #ravenwolf1132

[lookforthelig-ht]

The Archer (chapter 1)

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader. Enemies to Lovers. Slow Burn.

summary: set in Jackson post TLOU finale. It was clear they hated each other even if they tried to say it wasn’t that.

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 2.2k

warnings etc: angst, smut (eventually in the series), age gap (joel is 56 reader is 25), NO USE OF Y/N.Anxiety. Mentions of show canon violence.

“I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey. All of my enemies started out friends”

inspo songs

She felt the pounding in her chest. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it was going to jump out. She took deep breath as her hands went near her face as she held her bow. Her hair brushed against her shoulders as she stared down at the deer near the watch tower in Jackson. She was so close to let go of the arrow when the sound of the door creaking behind her made her jump and in return, made her lost sight of the possible prey.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya” Joel’s voice approached her. He sat down at the sit next to window where she was standing. She rolled her eyes at the statement.

“You didn’t scare me and I’ve told you, I’m no kid” she insisted. That nickname made her boil. It was nothing personal against the man but she hated how small he made her feel. She understood he was Tommy’s brother but ever since he arrived with Ellie, the entire town seemed to bend the rules for him even if they insisted it wasn’t like that.

It started with the night watch. For safety reasons the turns have been reduced to two people per watch. One to attack possible enemies from the tower and the other one to notify the others. It sounded logical but before there were four people per watch. The whole “pair per watch” was Joel’s idea. 

The pairs were assigned depending on skill and she got the golden ticket of doing night watch with the man every three days. The first started to bicker when he noticed she didn’t know how to handle a gun but seemed to be a perfect shot with a bow and arrow. 

“Why do you fucking care? I’ve been using this ever since arriving here and no one fucking cared” she cried out on their first argument. He just chuckled in a mocking tone.

“C’mon kid, you’re get yourself killed before you have a chance at using that against an infected or worse” was his only argument. 

She spent that entire night sitting down facing the window with her back to him. Hiding the tears rolling down her eyes. Ever since that first fight, the night he made her feel worthless and stupid, she barely speaks to the man. The problem was that he was the brother of her best friend’s husband. And it was either deal with him or change watch schedules and deal with her ex-boyfriend. It was sort of an “worst of two evils” situation and she rather deal with a Miller than with a douche who has ammunition to annoy her. 

That night was uneventful as it was most of the times when the weather starts to get warmer. A light breeze entered through the window as they both stared down on the forest surrounding the commune with weapons in hand.

“Sorry…I…I know you wanted to catch that deer” Joel spoke, breaking off the awkward silence between them. It would always be like this. He would do something to annoy her, a few hours would go by and then he would apologize.

“It’s fine” she groaned. Again, she didn’t hate him, she was just annoyed. Her temper was known in the town as a difficult one. Hell. People wondered how she got by before coming into town without getting herself killed with that attitude. On the other hand, she made herself useful. Even if they had plenty of supplies, she hunted for food and would always bring it down to the dining hall. Even if her weapon of choice wasn’t practical, she made it work.

“Ya know, Ellie is dying for you to teach her how to use it, she hasn’t told you anything because of me” Joel started, was he actually trying to make a conversation? 

The man’s eyes were trying to stare at hers but she just kept looking out the windows instead. She felt his stare. She has memorized every worry line on his forehead, every crinkle around his eyes, how his hair was tussled and disheveled most of the time with the hints of grey hairs coming out. The broadness of his shoulders, how he towered over even though she wouldn’t consider herself a short person, she definitely felt like one next to him. 

She just silently nodded at the statement. 

Determined to finish the patrol without another confrontation which would have the entire town talking. Something she was actively trying to avoid since Maria warned her that another argument would get her in trouble. She sighted at that thought. How she kept being treated as a child but remembering she was acting like one. Kicking and screaming when things didn’t went her way. Throwing a fit when being questioned about any of her, rather rash, decisions. 

“I-I can. If you want, of course” she said between her teeth. She has only shared a few moments with Ellie but she was different than Joel. 

She was talkative and rather expressive. She thought of herself when being with the teen. The impulsiveness, the talking back, her choice of words even. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to teach her.  She turned her head from the window to look at Joel for the first time since the patrol started a few hours ago. 

“I don’t know, kid, I think I rather her be focused on normal stuff, ya know?” she rolled her eyes again. She hated being called “kid” even if it was in an endearing nickname, she knew it wasn’t like that. It came from a place of condescendence. It was establishing a limit. He was a grown up and she was not.

“If you call me kid again, I swear to God I will shove an arrow up in your ass” she spat back before going back to her original position. Face looking outside and ignoring the presence of a man. So much for trying to be nice, she thought. 

He chuckled at the statement. He wasn’t really fond of her either. He found her immature, careless and petulant. In his own words she was a 

A child.

At first, he didn’t get what was her deal. Every opinion he had, she seemed to think the opposite of it. He could say the sky was blue and she would go on about how it’s actually red. It was getting to a point where he would just shut up and apologize. In his head it didn’t make sense to argue with her because in her eyes, he was always going to be wrong. 

Every time they would find themselves locked up in the tower, he would notice how her eyes had a spark whenever she felt passion towards a topic in general. They had a certain shine that made it impossible for him to take his off and her lips. He could go on about her lips. How plumped they seemed and the way they curved when smiling when she’s right. How she seems to slightly open them when shooting with her bow and arrow. 

That was another thing that caught his attention, how she insisted on just using that instead of a gun. He even remembers how their first argument was about that and ever since that night she always stays with her back to him to avoid conversation. And even when they do talk, is a power struggle on who’s right and wrong. 

Again, they never would admit how much they actually disliked the other even if it was obvious, but they would also never admit how they have each other’s quirks memorized. She would insist on Joel to stop calling her kid, but she knew he wouldn’t. Even under a threat. Because he also knew she wouldn’t actively try to hurt him. Not because she was afraid. On the contrary he knew if one day he winded her up enough, she would honor her own words and shove the arrow up his ass, but because she was on thin ice. 

Tommy slipped up a few days ago and let Joel know that if they had another discussion strong enough to stir the entire town, they would have to remove her from the watch and alter the entire rotation. The community was like a clock, when one piece doesn’t work, the entire process was affected. Maybe that’s what Joel was looking for. For her to actually stop patrolling. To put her in her damn place.

“Have you ever considered to just stay with your mouth shut? Really, ever since we met you always must have the last word” the man defended himself. He huffed at the girl, and he grew angrier with each word he spoke. 

She considered to turn around and finally give her a true piece on what she actually thinks of him. How he takes advantage of being Tommy’s brother, the way he walks around as if he’s high and almighty, how he mocks anyone who might differ with him, basically everything about him, annoyed her.  But instead, she took a deep breath.

He saw her chest rise with every breath. She stayed quiet and ignored him

Almost time to go home

She thought as the night had gone from a dark blue to see the sun rising in the east. The sky had turned into a mix of a light blues and oranges as they both stood up to signal that their patrol time was done. They both picked up their packs from the floor. She rushed through the door that let to the stairs to go and back into the town. 

She felt the anger boiling inside of her, slowly building up to a cathedral of madness. The only thing in her mind is just getting him out of her sight so she wouldn’t explode and yet again, get herself in trouble. Every step she took she held back the tears. She turned her hands into fists so tight, her knuckles were turning white, only letting go when opening the door that welcomed her back into the town.

It was still early; most people were probably still asleep. The quietness of the town calmed her down. She just stopped and crouched in the middle of the street to feel the light breeze on her face. The tears were dried, and her hands were no longer in fists, she just brushed through her hair with them to stand up correctly again. A knot still in her throat as she started to walk down when she feels a hand grabbing her arm and twisting her around. 

“Wait- What the fuck!” she said as she is being manhandled by Joel. Her eyes widened at the sight of the man who looks like he has had enough of her. 

“It’s just us right now, tell me, what is your deal, kid?” she knew if looks could kill, she might as well be six feet underground. Her arm still being held by the man’s big hand. She knew eventually it would bruise considering she only had a light sweater on her. 

“You want to know what my deal is, Miller? You. You are my fucking deal. You talk to me as if I’m an infant which I am not if you haven’t noticed. Ever since we met, you have to question every single choice I take, you are no one in my life. Do you hear that? Fucking no one, so please, let go of me and let me go on about my day, I don’t need you to ruin it, I am perfectly capable of doing that by myself” she yelled at him and took her arm back from him. She never broke the eye contact to let him know she wasn’t afraid of him. And he knew right there that if she had it in her, he might as well be knocked out. Her words hurt. She knew they would and that’s why she used them.

He looked at her in disbelief. Was he actually affected by the words spoken by the woman he seemed to hate?

“And another thing, you are an ass but everyone here is too afraid of you to actually say something about it. The only reason people stand you is because by some sick joke of destiny you are Tommy’s brother so you are just tolerable enough but believe me, if you weren’t, your days here would be counted.” She finished. The heat rising up to her cheeks. She was visibly upset spitting out her true feelings towards Joel. Her eyes watered once again but she refused to let him see them. As soon as she was done, she turned around and left him standing speechless in the middle of the street.

Joel couldn’t try to defend himself. How could he? It’s not like she was wrong, sure, she could’ve been nicer but it’s not like she owed him anything, he thought to himself. He just watched as she disappeared into the town and left him alone with his conflicting thoughts. He had a mixed feelings around the thoughts she verbally expressed towards him. He knew for some reason she disliked him but to actively hate him? 

He fought the lump forming in his throat. The world around him going blurry as he noticed people starting to leave their respective houses to start the day when he just wanted to end his.

A/N:AHHHHHHHHHH

i'm so happy to be finally posting this, i spent all week working on it!!! pls let me know if any mistakes were made, i'm open for suggestions!

#my work #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou imagine #pedro pascal fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

[discuntelysium]

@elohima

imho, the second you turn rbs or comments off, you lose. But there are so many inaccuracies and logical fallacies in your response. Normally i would just let sleeping dogs lie but you’re not the only one who believes this bullshit so i want to respond. 

“Israel is not an apartheid state. you link your articles and resources, but have you ever been to Israel? come visit- it's a beautiful place. talk to arabs living here, in israel- not in the west bank or in gaza, which i never mentioned in my post. ask them how their lives are here.”

This actually made my jaw drop. She said, “Yeah the UN and Amnesty International say it's apartheid but its a beautiful country 🤓”. Everything just flew right over your head, huh? What's the matter, is systemic too big of a word for you? Grab a dictionary and reread what I wrote in my original post, cause there's no way you're stupid enough to believe that this is a valid argument.

You say your argument excludes the West Bank and Gaza? That’s fine. To be clear, you and I both know that Israel is still an apartheid state. There’s something you never mention in any of your posts. Probably because you know that it completely destroys your argument: It’s that your “country” distinguishes between nationality and citizenship.  

Which means that “Arab” citizens do not have the same access that Jewish Israeli citizens do. Because nationality, in Israel is determined by ethnicity, cannot be changed, and this discrimination affects nearly every aspect of Arab-Israeli life. So as you can see, apartheid still exists, even within the green line. 

Let me be clear: when multinational NGOs, multinational IGOs, and human rights groups both in and out side of Israel claim that it is an apartheid state, there is nothing you can say to dispute that. Okay? Nothing. Stop embarrassing yourself. 

“HAMAS is a terrorist organization. they control gaza completely. hamas hides behind children and stores ammunition (that is used against israeli citizens) in the middle of neighborhoods where gazan citizens live: in kindergartens, schools, hospitals and actual buildings where people live.”

But do they, really? 

An investigation done by the BBC found no evidence to corroborate this claim.

An investigation done by the Belfast Telegram found no evidence to corroborate this claim.

An investigation done by Amnesty International found no evidence to corroborate this claim. 

And still, there is no evidence from either side that Hamas is using these “human shields”. 

Furthermore, this kind of logic only serves to dehumanize the Palestinians living in Gaza by making it seem like their deaths are circumstantial; by turning them into accessories to the war; by obfuscating the truth which is, Palestinian people die because Israel carpet bombs them. Because Israel is not targeting Hamas; it’s targeting Palestinians. Because for the past 70 years, Israel has demonstrated a commitment to wiping Palestine off the map completely. 

In fact, Israel is the one who uses Palestinians as human shields; by forcing Palestinian citizens to check homes for traps, or by tying them to tanks to prevent people from throwing rocks. So maybe it’s just a case of projection.  

oh, and by the way, hamas isn't the only terror organization around here. Hezbollah is the one bombing Israeli civilians in the north, so Israel fights back. you know, like every country does, but for some reason we, the one Jewish country in the world, have to justify protecting ourselves from terror.

What does it mean for a settler-colony to ‘protect itself’? Protect itself from whom? The people whose land they took? 

I’m actually genuinely curious as to how you can believe that violence on behalf of the IDF and the Israeli government is an act of self defense. You didn’t respond to anything I said in my first rb about all the palestinians detained in Israeli prisons without trial, do you think that they were put there in self defense? Or the 200+ people killed when Palestinians organized their peaceful march for freedom. Did that stem from the need to protect Israel too? What about when the IDF forces Palestinians to cut down their olive trees, their only source of income, some of which have been in families for generations. What do you say to this? It’s not defense. It’s cruelty. 

And oh my god, stop victimizing yourself. There was massive pushback to the Vietnam War, the war in Afghanistan. Because guess what— most people feel some amount of discomfort at the idea of innocent civilians being killed in their name. There is nothing unique about your country or the situation that it is in right now. It was born out of violence, it maintains itself through violence, and it justifies this violence through the dehumanization of the other. And you are complicit. 

my country was created because this is our land. 

This line of reasoning + the claims to Jewish “indigeneity” are often presented as justification for Israel’s creation. But this is a response to a strawman argument; as if the question of who lives in Palestine just depends on who got there first. Evidently, between the first century and the nineteenth century, people moved in, populations and demographics shifted. Palestine was not “your land”; if it was, there wouldn’t need to be a mass exodus of Palestinians, you fucking dumbass. 

Do you know who really is ‘a people without a land’? African Americans whose ancestors were brought to America as slaves. Romani people, who also faced persecution in Europe and during WWII. Why do you think they aren’t getting their own ethnostate? 

I don’t trust your critical thinking skills, so I’ll just tell you. It’s because giving them an ethnostate doesn’t further western hegemony like the creation of Israel did. The very roots of Israel are steeped in colonialism. It was described as a “colonial project” by Theodore Herzl, one of the founders of zionism. Other notable quotations from proponents of an independent Jewish state in Palestine include, “Zionism is a colonial adventure”; “The Arabs do not want us here because we wish to be the rulers of this land. I will fight for this. I will make sure we are the landlords.”

It’s not “your land”; even modern day politicians know that there is no legal justification for Israel existing. The only people who believe that it does are people like you. 

on November 29th, 1947, the UN suggested establishing two states—one Jewish, one Arab. the jews agreed. the arabs started a war the very next day.

It amazes me how people always manage to learn just enough history to appease their own world-views, nothing more. 

The UN’s suggestion was just that— a suggestion. The UN does not actually have any authority to create states. In fact, the UN committee on Palestine acknowledged that the establishment of Israel had infringed on Palestinian right to self determination.  

You framed this in a way that implies that “the arabs” are to blame because they started the war. Read this very carefully: colonialism is always, always the original act of violence. Everything that happens after-wards is a symptom of that. The UN’s two-state proposal was essentially just asking Palestinians to agree to their own colonization. No peoples should ever be asked to do this. 

why didn't you mention the horrible massacre that happened on October 7th? the citizens kidnapped by hamas?

Because I recognize that this didn’t happen in a bubble. 

Because Hamas was originally funded by Israel. 

Because Hamas attempted to negotiate a peace treaty with Hamas 5 times, and Israel rejected its terms; to free Palestinian prisoners in Israel; to remove Israeli troops from Palestinian territories; to restore Palestinian borders to what they were in 1967. 

Because Hamas began as a peaceful group and radicalized incrementally, and each radicalization occurred directly because of Israeli violence.

Because Israel prefers violence to peace, as has been demonstrated throughout its short and bloody history. 

i will continue to live here- i have no where else to go. this is my home. that is it.

You can do whatever the hell you want. I have no objection to where you live. What I do object to, is the beliefs that you hold about your citizenship, about your country, and about the people that had to be and still are killed and exiled to justify your country’s existence. 

[dryades-angeli]

There is no logical explanation for hating DainsLumi

I was a little surprised when I searched Twitter for Dainslumi and found actual people who hate the Ship. Why? -----------------------------------------------------

The age of the travelers: The age of travelers is a hotly debated topic in the Genshin community. Ultimately, age depends on who is allowed to be shipped to whom, if one goes by (pseudo)moral standards. In the game you find out that Lumine and Aether even if they look like 15 year olds are over 500 years old, maybe even three thousand years old. Venti, on the other hand, is over 2,600 years old. The boy he depicts, however, is 15 years old. Klee is a small child and 48 Years old while her mother Alice, a grown woman, is 500 years old. Why fans keep pointing out that the travelers are young is due to the alcohol issue. The first time we as travelers were made aware of the issue of alcohol was in Mondstadt. We are told that we are too young for alcoholic drinks. Later we mention to Yukio in Inazuma that we can't drink alcohol yet. But why are we not allowed to drink alcohol while Venti is allowed to? Both people are physically 15 years old. 1. Venti is a god. With Venti you know that he can't be 15 years old. Lumine and Aether don't notice that they are older than their bodies. 2. The traveler was thrown into a completely forgein world. And the first thing he/she is told is: "You can't have no alcohol. You're still too young." So either the traveler sticks to it, because he/she thinks it is the rules of this world. So he/she doesn't know any better. Or to keep his/her origins as secret as possible. The fact is that the traveler wanted to try alcoholic drinks in Diona's shop and told her that he/she is older than he/she looks. And yet the traveler is not believed. We have it in black and white that the traveler cannot be 15 years old. The fact that the traveler himself later says in Inazuma "I'm not allowed to drink alcohol yet" is probably due to the fact that people wouldn't believe the traveler anyway if he said he was not a minor.

Of course, some creatures may take longer to age. The best example is Klee. But Klee's mother Alice is a young adult and at 500 years old, not even half the age of the travelers. That's why I suspect that their bodies no longer age at all. The text with Diona strongly suggests this. In this case, Lumine is not a minor. Rival Shippings - DainKae: What I am going to say now is MY personal opinion. You don't have to share it or feel offended by it. I accept any other ship with Lumine or Dainsleif. Thanks!

I honestly don't understand what foundations DainKae is built on. We've had a conversation between the two so far. Which turned out pretty down cooled. Dainsleif was very confrontational und it seems that Kaeya leaves so fast, because he feels quite uncomfortable. In addition, Kaeya is a descendant of the one who founded the "Abyss Order". And as everyone knows, Dainsleif is enemies with it. Of course, Kaeya has made it clear that he would rather fight this organization than support it, but it can still be a hindrance to a relationship between them. Lumine, on the other hand, is Dainsleif's enemy. But he was able to build enough of a relationship with her through their travels together that he still holds on to her and wants to save her. Soberly speaking, Dainslumi has a better starting point for a relationship than DainKae. In my opinion, Kaeya also fits Diluc better. At least they have a more interesting and closer relationship than Kaeya and Dainsleif. Rival Shippings - Dainther: Disputes between Lumine fans and Aether fans are probably as old as the Genshin community itself. I have to say, as a Lumine fan, it bothers me that Aether displaces her in almost every shipping. But in this case that shouldn't actually be the case. Aether fans often argument with that Aether is the original traveler. I'll take the Aether fans at their word now, because Aether is actually the main character, -the traveler.

You can see him in this webcomic and he can usually be seen in official pictures. In the battle pass you can see a legend that is quite tailored to the two travelers and one shows the sister as an Abyss princess. Fine, you won. So let Lumine be the only ship that is truly tailored to her. Rival Shippings - HalfDain: Halfdain is the only ship where I can understand their shippers. Yes. Halfdan was just a minor character whose purpose was his sacrifice and consequent death. But in one scene a lot of emotions really came up. You could tell how Dainsleif suffered. The scene with the grave flowers and the handshake between the two had something nostalgic. Halfdain was important to Dainsleif. But when romance is implemented into this short scene, one shouldn't ignore Dainsleif's feelings for Lumine either.

Source Their relationship: Dainsleif likes to compare Aether to Lumine and tells him about the flowers she loved so much. He reacts extremely negatively to the Abyss Herald and is not afraid to kill him. Maybe the point that he follows her like that, can be seen as excessive? But I can't imagine it. To me, Dainsleif behaves like a person in love, but not like a freak. And the fact that Lumine sees him as an enemy is not an exclusion criterion for the couple. She seems to have been manipulated, as the legend goes, or is on the wrong path. But that doesn't change the fact that the two were once close and it can't be that way again. ----------------------------------------------------- Lumine is of full age and they have a tragic story that can easily be interpreted as a romance. They have the most content and seemingly have a based bond with each other that was severed by their disagreement. Their connection is not toxic and they are both still alive. So if you don't hate the ship, just because you favor another, there's no reason to hate or dislike Dainslumi.

#dainslumi #dainsleif #genshin lumine #genshin traveler #genshin impact

[aeternals]

WAR.

abaddon

abigail smith / donna smith / etc

unknown dob

unknown age

varied locations

brown / red eyes

hair varies

5'5" ( current vessel )

demiromantic pansexual

fallen angel / demon / harbinger of violence

SKILLS.

cerebral control / emotion manipulation

telekinesis

weapon manifestation

illusion

teleportation

astral travel

HISTORY.

           like all structures with hierarchy there are angels that operate outside what is considered normal.  they had no power while also having all the power in their respective spheres.  originally, the four horsemen were chosen to test humanity.  how well do they handle war?  famine?  plague?  even death?  does an abundance of one or more of these divert the god-fearing away from their faith?  abaddon became known as the destroyer because of her appearances before the storm.  kingdoms crumbled in her wake, all in an effort to see whether or not they had the will to survive.  at the same time, there was no talk of the apocalypse.  they weren’t supposed to wipe god’s creations off the face of the earth.  no, they were only supposed to help guide.  though, the direction had always been unclear.  abaddon never asked.  it wasn’t until lucifer started asking questions that she started looking at her own.

           the four horseman are at a similar power level to the seven archangels but were naturally subservient in most instances.  there were many battled where abaddon fought alongside michael.  in that sense, the horsemen were always more neutral.  though they resided in heaven their very nature to test and not help meant many saw them as forces opposed to humanity, unlike the rest of the angelic host.

            when the war in heaven broke out, the horsemen were a neutral party.  war could see both sides of the argument.  though, all the time spent on earth meant she also didn’t fully understand why the humans were so fiercely protected.  they’d always been manipulated a little too easily.  their penchant for violence had always been disturbing.  any little nudge had them at each other’s throats for the most minor of reasons.  most days, war felt it would be better to cleanse the planet and start again.  all over the universe, a number of species were discovering ways to get along.  yet, humans were getting more creative on how to cut each other down.

            due to their neutrality, they weren’t exactly kicked out of heaven but the remaining archangels also made it very clear they weren’t welcome.  those narrow views were now being turned.  abaddon tried to appeal to michael’s more logical side but the decision had already been made.  those who followed the morningstar had been cast out.  maybe, just maybe, the same should happen to the horsemen.

           abaddon always had love for lucifer.  in fact, war was incredibly tempted to give in to her vary nature by participating in the fight.  humans fought for free will every single day.  why shouldn’t the angels have the agency to do the same?  lucifer, however, didn’t hold the same contempt for her lack of participation as michael did.  in fact, it was lucifer’s suggestion that the four horsemen could be agents of change.  they could do what he himself did.  they could cleanse the planet and bring in a new era, one free from the very tests they were told to incite in humanity.

            some texts will claim abaddon fell from heaven alongside lucifer.  in truth, she and the three other horsemen turned their backs on the pearly gates.  why stand with an institution that so heavily favored one side over the other?  plus, lucifer had a point.  the horsemen could use their power for good.  just not in the way god originally intended.  on the same token, the horsemen are no longer welcome in heaven, either.  they linger in a kind of purgatory; not really angels and not really demons.  with the war they truly became, simply, the harbingers of their original purpose.  until they collectively decide when it’s time to make the last judgement they test humans in a variety of ways.  

CURRENT FORM

           the construction of the pyramids of giza caught abaddon’s attention.  enough so that she chose to hover around the area for a while.  it was there she found a priestess of anubis whose conversation had become oddly entertaining.  aset.  her name had been aset.  there was defiance there.  at the same time, there was also love, intelligence, and a desire to make the world a better place.  abaddon laughed at that.  it was in that laugh that she realized a big part of her had given up hope on humanity.  that maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for an excuse to pull the trigger and raze the world.

           had aset died of devious means there’s a good chance abaddon would’ve started just that.  but, despite all the political corruption and intrigue the priestess died peacefully in her sleep.

          abaddon uses aset’s form as a reminder of everything learned during her time with the priestess.  she tries to remember the defiant questions and the unending generosity. 

VERSES.

tbd.

#( ㅤ war ㅤ ) portrait #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) musings #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) study #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) headcanon #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) verse: main #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) imagery #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) interaction #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) desires #( ㅤ war ㅤ ) answer

[thekingofwinterblog]

So, Picturejasper20 asked me to contribute to this, so i'll give my takes for this week.

Day 1. FAVORITE EPISODE

I mean... It's true Colors.

That's like asking what was the best fight in One Piece. There are many good and great ones, but anyone who has watched the series knows there is only one answer.

True Colors was the peak of Amphibia as both a story, but also as a narrative.

I would say that Reunion would be a close second, but Reunion has the problem that though not bad, season 1 simply wasn't overall building to this finale. There was definitely episodes that set it up, but as a finale, it really does come out of nowhere. It's there because it's the final episode, and so it's time for the big gamechanger.

By comparison, True Colors was what the entirety of season 2 was building towards, with every mystery and character interaction between the main trio all being set up to the climax that is true colors.

And thats just the overall narrative.

Because this episode has it all. Great character moments, iconic and memorable scenes, every character involved having completely separate motivations and ambitions, and characters making huge mistakes that are crucial for their developments.

I wish there was a day for favorite moment, as the entire sequence of Sasha's coup is my favorite scene of the series, where what shojld be the pinnacle of all of Sasha's achievements, becoming queen of the land, is all turned to complete and total dust in her mouth when Anne tells her in no uncertain terms that she hates her now.

It's such a powerful scene, that completely and totally uproots Sasha's entire sense of self, and it wouldn't have been anywhere as important if the series hadn't made it very, very clear that for Sasha, her relationship with Anne was EVERYTHING.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where Anne broke Sasha's heart into pieces, and i am very fond of pulling up these two pics whenever i get an excuse to do so.

And that's just one of the great moments of this episode.

The confrontation at the gatehouse, where it's now Sasha who is in the right, as this coup would be infinitely preferable to what Andrias had planned, but rather than logic or arguments, what it all comes down to is That Anne is angry at Sasha from the previous scene in the throneroom, and Sasha's arc of being a bad friend reaching it's logical conclusion as Anne tells her to fuck off.

Then there is the confrontation in the throne room, where pretty much every single line is iconic.

Andrias revelaing himself as the villain, the backstory of Amphibia, Marcy's betrayal laid bare, her subsequent fumbling of trying to justify herself rather than trying to apologize and subsequent rejection, anne deciding to give her friendships another go while admitting to her own faults, Andrias throwing Sprig out the window to make a point to Anne.

Anne's superform, Marcy jumping out the window, andrias halting as he sees she's opened a portal to Earth, Sasha and Grime holding Andrias off, of course...

Marcy getting a sword through her chest, killing her, and setting up her death and ressurrection into Darcy.

And then, having now destroyed the main trio, the season ends on Anne achieving her goal since the series started.

She's finally home. End of part 2.

I have very, VERY mixed feelings about season 3A, and in hindsight, i very much think this third season should have been a full season for each half, but in regards to how it was set up, i have NO complaints.

True colors is as close to a perfect finale i have seen a western show have since since the season finales of Avatar the last airbender.

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #king andrias #true colors #Picturejasper20 #favorite episode #amphibia week

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you. 

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table. 

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little. 

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open. 

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy. 

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been. 

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle. 

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table. 

And then the bell chimed. 

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day. 

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone. 

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence. 

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back. 

“Uh, would you like to join me?” 

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone. 

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you. 

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned. 

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that  conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two. 

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said. 

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm. 

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason. 

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!” 

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…” 

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture. 

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other. 

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted. 

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever. 

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery. 

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening. 

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.” 

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.” 

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?” 

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes. 

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization. 

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.” 

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly. 

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best. 

That was six months ago. 

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend. 

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.” 

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?” 

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly. 

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free. 

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together. 

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other. 

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know  if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes. 

The rest was history. 

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own. 

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin. 

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?” 

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured. 

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children. 

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes? 

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them. 

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement. 

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.” 

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months. 

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in. 

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be. 

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better. 

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning. 

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again. 

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children. 

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry. 

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks. 

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look. 

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought. 

“You’re just…extra happy today.” 

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest. 

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?” 

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.” 

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?” 

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her. 

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands. 

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls. 

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter. 

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry. 

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye. 

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention. 

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help. 

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled. 

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night. 

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s. 

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy. 

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more. 

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them. 

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning. 

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild. 

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice. 

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously. 

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters. 

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again. 

“Yes!” The girls both answered. 

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?” 

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed. 

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly. 

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon. 

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber. 

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights. 

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation. 

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board. 

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian. 

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then! 

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much. 

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message. 

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.  

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night. 

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed. 

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park. 

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen. 

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him. 

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up. 

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you. 

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body. 

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved. 

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took. 

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net. 

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. 

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory. 

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile. 

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup. 

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained. 

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.” 

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth. 

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it. 

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply. 

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up. 

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point. 

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered. 

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.” 

“If you want to.” 

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks. 

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down. 

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls. 

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing. 

You chuckled. “How’s that?” 

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.” 

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle. 

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said. 

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.” 

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.” 

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do. 

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice. 

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings. 

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide. 

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly. 

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well. 

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought. 

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face. 

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run. 

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder. 

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body. 

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him. 

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him. 

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased. 

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words. 

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace. 

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal. 

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert. 

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you. 

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock. 

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car. 

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind. 

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over. 

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by. 

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory. 

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt. 

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.” 

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?” 

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?” 

“What place is that?” You asked curiously. 

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often. 

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered. 

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get. 

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you. 

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.” 

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same. 

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!” 

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it. 

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.  

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again. 

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.” 

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously. 

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need. 

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t. 

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly. 

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness. 

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes. 

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay. 

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure. 

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you. 

“I’m gonna head out.” 

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.” 

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you. 

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away. 

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day. 

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help. 

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready. 

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same. 

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order. 

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story. 

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream. 

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was. 

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored. 

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety. 

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again. 

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same. 

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours. 

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass. 

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath. 

“What is it?” He whispered. 

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother. 

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.” 

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection. 

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup. 

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?” 

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you. 

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile. 

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.” 

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?” 

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.” 

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was. 

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.” 

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away. 

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise. 

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off. 

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone. 

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.” 

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

[pigeonp0st]

you did NOT say “hey send more wanda requests!” but here i am... sending you one jejeje :) how about cute fluffy red eyed jealous wanda? she just wants to hang with reader but EVERY! AVENGER! ALSO! DOES!

Wanda Maximoff x Reader #2

Words: 1,970

Warnings: Jealousy, Cursing

Notes:

Thank you for requesting, and by the way: I appreciate all of the Wanda requests so...hey! Send more Wanda requests. Oh, and this was written during a writers block so it’s not the best but I hope it’s good enough ;( Sorry for spelling mistakes.

————

There are moments during Wanda’s life where she is jealous, believe it or not. No, it doesn’t happen very often anymore; because really she has nothing to long for that she doesn’t already have.

But it happens… So despite her unwillingness to admit it, she’s currently experiencing one of her not so often bouts of jealousy—and it feels like such an ugly word, but it’s how she feels because everyone really just loves you, and she just wants you for herself.

and yeah, okay, someone could make the argument that she ‘has’ you already, and she feels that way, but she knows she doesn’t. Logically.

You could completely decide that you don’t want to be with her anymore, Wanda knows, and if that were something you wanted she wouldn’t even think about stopping you.

She’s not that type of jealous though. She’s not concerned you’ll leave her for someone else, despite how close you and Steve get while you’re discussing something, and despite how many times you fall asleep with Thor on the couch, despite how many times Tony seems to be looking for you, she doesn’t necessarily care about any of it.

As a matter of fact, Wanda would say that she loves the way everyone loves you. She loves how close you are with them...she just wishes it didn’t have to mean so little time for her.

So she’ll train with Clint and watch from the corner of her eye as you train with Natasha, and she’s not jealous about the way that you laugh with her, or the way that she smiles at you, or the way that Natasha pulls you until your faces are inches— okay she really didn’t need to fucking pull you so close-

“Y/N,” Wanda calls, absentmindedly throwing Clint into the cushioned wall with her powers. You don’t pay attention to her, much to Wanda’s dismay, instead you smirk at Natasha and she smirks at you— and really Wanda’s about a second away from throwing Natasha into the wall too— but then Nat headbutts you with just enough force that you’re winded by it, and completely and utterly finishes the fight.

Wanda stops her advancements towards you and starts clapping her hands, feeling utterly ridiculous but hiding it well.

From the way Natasha tilts her head at her perhaps she isn’t hiding it well enough.

You still don’t turn around to notice her though because now you’re locked into conversation with Bruce. And Okay.

She’s able to admit to herself now, that yeah, sometimes her jealousy comes from fear rather than want, but it’s only because anyone would feel threatened by Natasha.

She is also able to admit to herself that this is...harder for her than she previously thought.

————

This continues for a while longer. Wanda looks at you hanging out with the others, tries to get your intention, and gets utterly ignored.

She knows you aren’t doing it on purpose, but it hurts enough that whenever you, or the person you’re hanging out with ignore her she sighs and completely leaves the room.

She waits for you to look for her like she looks for you, she waits for you to be alone, but you never do, and you never are.

It hurts in a way it probably shouldn’t.

———-

Wanda has been pouty lately.

When you ask about it she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest like a disobedient five year old. It’s both amusing and concerning.

Concerning because she’s obviously upset about something, and amusing because she has the cutest pout, and the most dramatic flair about her.

You won’t be dropping this though. “Wan Wan-”

“Okay,” Wanda grimances immediately, “please never call me that again.” She looks horrified when she says it, and your amusement only goes up. Until you see the red glow in her eyes and remember that her powers have been showing the whole day.

This can’t go on.

“Wanda, did I do something wrong?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to start the conversation over.

Wanda momentarily stops glaring at the table so she can glance at you. When she does she seems to sag into her seat at the worried look on your face. This isn’t your fault, she reminds herself, angry that she let her own stupidity affect you. “No,” Wanda sighs, her jaw clenching and unclenching. “No, draga, you haven’t.”

Darling, you remember. That’s what ‘draga’ means. Despite circumstances the term of endearment fills you with butterflies. “Then what’s wrong?”

This time when you ask Wanda answers, looking sheepish and guilty. “I...Y/N I want to spend time with you. Is that…” she pauses, feeling frustrated beyond belief, “is that okay?”

You’re...confused, to say the least. You don’t understand why Wanda would think it isn’t, she’s your girlfriend, you love spending time with her. You had thought that you were already spending time with her before.

“Wanda,” you stutter, eyes wide at the sudden tears in her eyes. When she tries to look away you put a hand on her cheek and force her glowing red eyes to meet yours. “Hey, hey, Wanda—baby—of course it is.”

It’s more than okay.

Wanda nods, looking just as shocked by her tears as you are. “I have no idea why i’m crying,” she says shakily, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know why...I” Wanda pauses, letting out an angry defeated growl, “just- god, I...i’m just so frustrated.”

And she is, she really is. Wanda hadn’t realized how much this has been affecting her. She’s just angry at herself for needing you so much, and angry at the others for taking you away from her all the time, and then angry at herself again for being angry at the others just for wanting to be with you— she’s just angry. And it’s so exhausting.

But you aren’t. You’re the only thing in this life, to Wanda, that isn’t. It means everything, that’s why she needs you. Not all the time. Just sometimes at least.

You, little does Wanda know, need her around just as much, and more than that you need her to be okay, and she isn’t right now. Wanda looks so devastated and helpless, so helpless, that you’re hugging her before you can even register it, like your body moved on it’s own accord.

“Wanda,” you ask, concerned, “do you feel like i’m not already spending a lot of time with you? I mean...we sleep in the same bed.” Wanda hugs you so tightly though, that you wonder if you’ve been imagining the moments you two have spent together.

“No, no you have been,” she says sadly, and with a resignation in her voice that you don’t understand. “I guess...with all of the loss that’s surrounded me, and with the way I still try to distance myself from the others, I'm just really alone without you.”

You freeze completely, hit with an unbearable amount of sadness for the women you love.

Wanda pulls away from you when you tense, looking frantic because she worded that wrong, she hadn’t meant it to sound like she was guilt tripping you. “Obviously it’s not your responsibility to hang out with me all the time, I want you to hang out with your friends, it’s just...I mean...they do get to do stupid mundane things with you more...and I mean I want that too, but only if—”

You put a hand over her mouth, silencing her immediately. “Baby, slow down. Breathe. You’re gonna die if you don’t.”

“Okay…” you start when you realize Wanda has done what you asked and calmed down as much as she’s going to be able to right now, “no, you’re right, now that I think about it. Lately the others have been asking for me a lot and we only ever get a chance to watch a movie at night...we hardly see each other besides that.”

As you say it you’re shocked to find out how true it is. You’ve been so busy with your project with Tony, and training with Natasha, and Thor has been so sad lately that you’ve been trying to help him— and Clint with his sudden want to start cooking, and Peter with his girl problems, and—

And you hadn’t really taken a moment to realize that you miss Wanda too, you haven’t had the time to realize it while you were shuffling around the compound, but Wanda has had time. She’s had all the time in the world.

“Hey,” Wanda says when she notices the guilt on your face, “none of that.”

So you tackle her. Naturally. You tackle her because you love her, and she’s too sad. She looks too sad, she’s always too sad, and she never deserves to feel that way.

Wanda lets out a loud; ‘oof’ and falls back against the couch with you on top of her burying your face in her neck.

She doesn’t understand at all what’s going on, but she’s willing to give you what you want...until you start making weird noises.

“Rummmmm, tssssssss, weeeeeee.”

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks, legitimately concerned.

“Shhh, babe, i’m charging us up. Weeeee-”

“Okay,” Wanda laughs, pushing you off of her. When you yelp and nearly fall off the couch she catches you with her powers and gently lowers you on the ground.

You glare at her the whole way down, a humorous gleam in your eyes. “I’m trying to help babe, what the fuck.”

Wanda simply rolls her eyes at you, releasing another breathy laugh that has your features soften immediately.

“There it is,” you whisper quietly, reaching up to cup her cheek. Wanda smiles into your palm. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I’m realizing that I've missed you desperately too, so we’ll definitely have to make up for the time we weren’t together.”

“You don’t have to,” Wanda sighs, looking down.

“I want to,” you assure, because you do want to. You hadn’t noticed the ache in your heart until it was pointed out to you, but now that it has been...you just want to spend time with Wanda. But…

“But I want you to have other people as well,” you say quietly, “Do you think you could start opening up to the others? They really love you.”

Wanda studies your eyes, thinking. “I have been open with them.”

“You treat them like comrades more than family, even though they obviously love you more than that, and even though you do too.”

It’s something you’ve noticed. Wanda will protect everyone, and be there for them, and she’ll confide in them when necessary, but she’ll also avoid them, and avoid talking with them.

“Okay, I will try.”

The relief you feel at those four words is indescribable. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with Wanda, and the fact that she’s finally ready to listen fills you with joy that has you jumping back into her arms and smothering her with kisses.

“Hey,” Wanda protests, but she’s laughing, “I'll have to take it slow. Maybe i’ll start by finally coming to their movie nights”

“Sounds perfect,” you grin. And it does. Wanda hides in her room during those nights, but now she can be your game night partner. “Oh!” You yelp, jumping off her lap, “we should start training now. No one’s been able to beat Natasha at scramble but if we start training now by Friday we’ll be able to take her down.”

“I really am going to regret this,” Wanda sighs.

“It’s only two all-nighters, don’t be dramatic.”

“WHAT? I am not staying up all night.”

“We’ll see about that.” You whisper under your breath. You don’t think Wanda hears until she throws a couch pillow at your face.

#marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x female reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda imagine #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #x fem!reader #fem reader #imagine #ask prompt

[tennessoui]

50 but its Obi-Wan tired and stressed going through a messy divorce who mets ray of sunshine Anakin ❤

This is basically the Prologue to the story of how Homeowner Obi-Wan Adopts Two Children and A Husband Without Realizing It

50. Going Through a Divorce (Divorced!Obi-Wan)

Buy a house, they had said. You have a wife. You should have a house, they had said. The market is in your favor right now, they had said. This area is nice. Good for kids if that’s something you’re thinking about. Buy a house.

No one ever told Obi-Wan what to do if your wife divorces you and moves out, but the house is legally in your name and the weight of the mortgage is slowly killing you because while you’re a great English professor, you don’t exactly get paid a commission for how many kids decide to take your class after looking at your chili pepper score on Rate My Professor.

Obi-Wan sits in his study with the windows shut and the door closed. It’s the only room in the house that doesn’t feel like something’s glaringly missing. Every other place held at least a few of Satine’s possessions, and if he leaves the shelter of this one final safe haven, he knows himself well enough to know that he’ll prod at all those little absences the way a tongue ghosts over the pit left by a lost tooth.

But this study has always been his, and it still feels like it now. And while the house is, arguably, also still his and has always been, it feels too big now. Too empty.

He is not enough for the house either, it seems.

Obi-Wan snorts at the thought and pours himself a drink. He’s getting maudlin in his old age. Sentimental. What he should be doing is thinking of the logistics going forward, although he knows few. How To Get Divorced was never something they taught in schools, nor something he had thought to be in his future.

How To Pick Up The Pieces of Your Shattered Heart had been a tough lesson to learn a year ago when his wife--ex-wife now--had broached the topic of separation. Separation, as if that wasn’t simply a long-drawn out end. She hadn’t taken that criticism lightly, nor should she have. Their ensuing fight had only ended when she had gasped wetly through her tears and told him, “See? Who are we anymore? I don’t want to fight anymore, Obi.”

To which Obi-Wan had said, of course, “Don’t call me that.” and Satine had left without another word. Given enough time to reflect upon her argument, he did find the logic in it. They’d married young and then changed in ways that couldn’t click together. Obi-Wan would have been fine with continuing to try to force them to work, but Satine had never been one to hate herself in that way.

The papers had come on a rainy day in October. The love had stayed on, unwelcome and bitter and agonizing in turn, well into April. Now it’s autumn again, and Obi-Wan has a house that’s too big for just him and no wife or partner or lover to fill its gaps.

There’s a loud ping of his phone that brings him out of his thoughts. It’s a message from Quinlan, just a link. Obi-Wan almost doesn’t click it, not in the mood for a funny video or in-depth but frightfully out-of-touch opinion on a recent movie. Then Quinlan texts again. I know you like your blondes fiery is all he says, and now Obi-Wan has to know.

He touches the link and it takes him to a posting on a website dedicated to finding roommates. The text loads slowly, probably because there’s a lot of it.

IN NEED OF ROOMMATE ASAP the title screams. Reflexively, Obi-Wan checks the time-stamp, but this was posted only a day ago. His heart warms at the idea of Quinlan checking this website trying to solve Obi-Wan’s problem of the mortgage for him.

Then he keeps reading.

Hi, I’m Anakin, 26, it reads. Working in tech right now--should make any sort of income required. Recently and unexpectedly kicked out of my place. Parent of two toddlers, but they’re angels (separately)! They are past the point of drawing on walls and they are potty-trained. Would be willing to put down a pet deposit but no pets, just the twins. Being evicted in the next five days so desperately need place. Twins’ mom could take twins while I move out and then move in but she can’t have them longer than a couple of weeks because of her job.

Also full disclosure, I have to move out because I “assaulted” my landlord! He was being a creep about my friend and touched her without her consent. I’m not actually a violent person and will not hit you! Just if you call my landlord for a tenant reference, he won’t be nice. He’ll be very, very biased.

Before twins can move in, I will need to run a background check on you as well just to make sure you’re not a creep (creeps DNI)

Let me know if you’re interested!

(Please give me a chance.)

There’s a couple of pictures at the bottom, just after the man’s phone number and email. One depicts a smiling, attractive man, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with a young child on each hip. The next is a close-up of the kids in fancy clothing, probably to prove that they’re not messy. The girl is scowling at the camera while the boy is crying though, so the overall effect is ruined. Still, Obi-Wan finds iit endearing. The last picture is Anakin’s mugshot, the man in question looking decidedly which makes Obi-Wan snort. He appreciates the level of honesty and loyalty Anakin’s clearly showing.

But this is a lot.

Obi-Wan hasn’t started to look into the option of finding a roommate to lessen the burden of his mortgage payments. And to jump straight to a man with a violent past and his two small children?

His house would be absolute chaos. He and Satine had always kept an orderly space, one that featured long bouts of quietly enjoying the other’s company from opposite ends of the living room, but there would be no quiet with two children and what he’s positive is a very lively man.

But hadn’t he just been thinking that the house was too silent now? Too empty? It would be--

Well. It wouldn’t feel like his and Satine’s house anymore. It would be unrecognizable.

Somehow he’s jotting down the number before he even realizes what he’s doing. And then he’s putting it into his phone. And then it’s ringing.

“Hello?” A distinctly masculine voice says on the other side. Obi-Wan clears his throat, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Hi, hello yes. I’m calling about the ad you posted online yesterday?”

“What about it?” Anakin asks slowly, sounding suspicious. Obi-Wan has to fight to roll his eyes. If he hadn’t already committed himself to following through on the worst idea he’s had in years, he’d hang up at the other man’s clear distrust. He wants to berate him that this is not how you sell yourself to potential homeowners, but that isn’t his place.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says instead. “And I fear I may be your only hope.”

#asks #my fics #narrators voice: it was not actually the worst idea he's had in years #but he was truly anakins only hope #this was self-indulgent fun to write not serious at all #obikin #KUWSK #prompt fill

[reuinx]

Red Lights (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You've been having a tough time lately. It's Yelena's goal to brighten up your day. The day takes the form of an afternoon spent in Yelena's car teasing, laughing, and singing. It looked like the day couldn't possibly get any better until tragedy struck.

Prompt by Anon ask: “Kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms but reader is dying please and thank you “​

Word Count: 2,047

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood (Gore kept extremely minimal), tragic accident resulting in death.

Translations:  Malishka (Baby),  Dorogoy (Love)

Masterlist

Have you ever had those days when nothing goes right? You miss the bus, you say the wrong thing, you lose your temper, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you could have done differently? It was one of those days. Using this logic, you are faced with a dilemma - you don't want to stay at home, but you don't want to stay alone either. You tentatively texted Yelena to see if she was free; she was. Summer heat caressed your exposed arms, leaving you with sun-kissed skin. 

Despite the heat of the summer, you kicked pebbles across the ground like a child. The sound of her approaching car preceded your sight. The noise of her exhaust was followed by the blaring of Babooshka by the brilliant Kate Bush on her radio. Typical Yelena. She was driving her obnoxious yellow Ford Mustang; it was convertible. She made sure she knew that. It was her pride and joy, and she loved nothing more than it; well, she did love something more than that car, you.

Parking along the footpath, she had the roof down, and her blonde hair was flowing. While one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was hanging outside her window. In a pure white shirt, she exposed the muscles tense in her arm. Her sunglasses slowly slipped down the bridge of her nose as she peered over at you. She was undressing you with her eyes. She was chewing gum; she moved her lips slowly to match her motion.

“Still moody are we, Malishka?” Yelena called out from her car. The smile on her face was always devilish. Even though today didn't go as planned, you felt like it would be heaven on earth with Yelena.

“No”, You replied flatly as Yelena pushed her sunglasses back up to hide her eyes; she turned to face straight ahead of her as you made your way towards the car.

“I’m going to keep doing it until you admit you’re moody.”

“Keep doing wha-“ Before you could finish, She shoved her hand down on the horn as the already noisy auto began honking. Those who passed by started looking at the car with wonder. Redness flushed your face as you raced to the car.

“Yelena! Stop!”

“Mhm?”

“I’m not-“ You swiftly shook your head as the horn continued its outcry. She was stubborn, but so were you. She always won; there was no fighting with Yelena.

“I’m moody!” The moment you admitted it, she took her hand off the horn, resting her head back against the headrest as she stared up at you with a toothy grin.

“God, I hate you. You know that right?”

“Nah, you love me actually.” She was right about that. Yelena leaned across to open the door for you as you made your way to the passenger side. After entering, you shut the door behind you and automatically turned down the radio.

“Trying to go deaf are you?”

“Mhm?”

“I said are you trying to go deaf?”

“What?”

“I said- Oh forget it! Stop teasing me. I’m just looking after you!”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Feels like it sometimes, El.”

“Ha,” Yelena grumbled. Your laughter today was finally made possible because of Yelena's reaction. You were comforted by her. Talking to your person always made your worries go away. Yelena tutted and pulled your seatbelt into the latch plate as she leaned over your body, grasping your belt to make sure it was secure. Yelena put the car into gear as it began to move, the engine rumbling to life as she drove at the appropriate speed. She would never dream of speeding with you in the car.

“Do you want to talk about today?”

“No no, it was just one of those days.”

“Good, I don’t have to kill anyone...”

“No killing anyone.”

“Unless…”

“No”, You shushed her as you glanced at her with the corner of your eye; Yelena was smiling. She looked genuinely happy, which was a relief to you. She radiated happiness onto you; it was impossible to escape.

“It’s a beach day today.” The comment came from Yelena.

“Are you going to throw me in?”

“Actually… I’m still debating it.”

“What’s the pros and cons?”

“Con is that you’re pissed.”

“What’s the pro?”

“It will make you laugh.” You hadn't encountered anyone with the same kind of personality as her. Selflessness characterized her. Her heart was pure gold. Although she was tough, when her walls were broken, she became the softest person you'd ever met. It was easy to love her. She reached over for your hand; she took it in her hand before placing your hand on the clutch. To change gears, she held her hand yours, moving your hand in the desired direction. She was reluctant to let go but eventually cleared her throat to ask. Freeing your hand.

“Will you change the CD, Dorogoy?”

With ease, you opened the glovebox and located the CD binder. The 2000s saw a lot of popularity with these. Not now. Yelena's argument "It can fit so many CD's in it!" She wasn't wrong. It did. There was tons of CD's from all different genres in it. She bought CDs of the songs you played on your phone, not just the ones she liked. Even though she hid it from you, you started to notice when her binder began to fill up. You flicked through the CD’s until one caught your attention. As you saw a blank CD with writing on it, you paused. "For You" is spelled in Yelena's impeccable handwriting. While her eyes rested on the road, you turned to look at her, returning your focus to the CD. Yelena was smiling softly at you while you were busy changing CDs.

“You made this for me?”

“I did. I wanted to make you a playlist and well, there’s no Bluetooth so I did the best I can.”

“You’re too sweet. But… You do know downloading music and burning it on a CD is pretty illegal.”

“If your worrying over me downloading music, you should see what else I do” Yelena released a chuckle as the music played from the radio. You leaned over as you adjusted the volume up as the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac came through.

“I know you like them wood people”, Yelena murmured under her breath. Suddenly, you felt the excitement in your stomach rise. What else was on this CD? We get so caught up in the big things when we fall in love with someone. The little things are always the most important. You weren't just going to sing; you were going to perform as well. As you sang at the top of your lungs, you began to sway in your chair.

“And if you don't love me now -“ Your hand clenched as if it was holding an invisible microphone as you held it to Yelena’s lips. She smiled, licking her lips as she finished the lyric.

“You will never love me again.” She sang without hesitation, and while her voice is usually harsh, it was smooth and soft this time. When you heard her singing, you burst into laughter and clapped your hands in glee. The music picked up, and your hands moved with the lyrics. You didn't miss a word. Yelena was beginning to tap with the beat of the song on the steering wheel, laughing at how passionate you had gotten.

“I could listen to you forever.”

“Unlucky for you, you have forever with me”, You chirped out as Yelena frowned, turning her head quickly to glance at you.

“Why would that make me unlucky?”

“I’m a pain in the ass.”

“True but you’re my pain in the ass” She sounded more and more sincere with every word she said. Your singing continued unabated. As soon as the next red light came on, Yelena slowed her car down to a stop. It was now possible to see the beach. You were too busy performing for nobody to notice that Yelena was watching you. When she saw you happy, her eyes glowed with childhood excitement. All she wanted was for you to be satisfied. Because you were focused on the big things like the beach, you missed the little things like how Yelena looked at you. Anyone would kill for the kind of look she gave you. Yelena’s expression suddenly changed when you looked at her, her face filled with horror. She wasn’t making a face at you but something behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, everything went black. You lost all sense of time and purpose of self. Feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, you thought it overtake you. You felt alone. Yelena? Where was Yelena? Was Yelena okay? Had you fallen asleep? There was a noticeable pressure in your chest, almost as if it was being squeezed. You felt your lips tingle, and your lungs fill with air.

"Hey!" A distorted voice echoed inside your head, and you couldn't understand what was being said or even who it was?

"Wake up! Please wake up!" It was beginning to become more legible until a voice broke through the silence.

"Malishika!" Yelena, it was Yelena.

The world was blurry as your eyes snapped open. As you blinked rapidly, flashing lights obscured your view of the figure above you.

"Stay with me, stay with me please." You now knew what the pressure on your chest was; Yelena had been pressing hard and fast on the center of your chest. It was her rescue breaths that tingled your lips. The haze in your vision was clearing as you could see Yelena. It was evident from her face that she had been crying. Spikes of blood could be seen on her face as sweat ran down her forehead. It wasn't her blood. It was yours. 

In your disorientation, you did not know where you were. You were lying on the road when you suddenly remembered being in the car. Your eyes focused on Yelena's car as you tilted your head to look past her. Now you know what Yelena saw behind you. As you were sitting on the passenger side, a car ploughed straight into you through the red light. Yelena must have rescued you from the wreck. With growing dizziness and fatigue, your eyes began to flicker shut. The feeling of Yelena grasping your cheeks caused your eyes to dart open.

"Don't you dare close your eyes on me. I've lost everyone, I can't lose you too. I just can't. Please. Please don't go anywhere.. Just stay. Please just stay. I need you, god I need you. Please." She was begging you, pleading with you. The moment you tried to move, your body refused to react; you were powerless. With one hand on your stomach, she firmly grasped it. It was now clear that her previously pristine white t-shirt was heavily stained red. You felt queasy thinking that was yours.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay baby. It's okay." You managed to whisper out as your voice was weak.

"It's not okay, it's really not okay. I don't know what to do! I can't stop the bleeding" Yelena's voice was firm, her jaw extending with the words she spoke as she tried to contain herself. She sobbed, her eyes flicking upward.

"It's okay, El. You can stop. Just stop."

"Don't fucking say that, don't ever fucking say that. You aren't going anywhere, you aren't. This is not a goodbye! Don't give me that bullshit. The paramedics will be here soon, they will! " She snapped.

"Baby, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Yelena? Do you hear me? "I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I love you. God, I love you. Don't forget that, you hear me?" Yelena dipped her head down as she slowly pressed her lips against your forehead. She placed her free hand into your locks of hair as she slowly began to run her fingers through the strands of your hair.

"Baby?" She called out one last time. Your eyes locked onto her green eyes, admiring them one last time. The world around you faded to grey; the last thing you heard was Yelena's scream.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena headcanons #mcu #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fic #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova requests open #marvel imagine #yelena belova angst #yelena belova fluff #my writing #writing requests open #requests open #one shot #mcu black widow #marvel fanfictions

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 3 (Rowaelin)

~Aelin~

There was something decidedly pleasant about sneaking out of prison.

It was the thrill, she supposed.

She'd always been a bit of an adrenaline junky, and there was nothing that matched up to the excitement of breaking out of a maximum security prison with no one being the wiser.

Aelin ran through the tunnel, her steps sure and soundless, a smile blooming on her face. What she was doing shouldn't give her such joy, but along with being a thrill seeker, she'd always been just a little bit vindictive.

Or maybe a lot.

The map of the tunnels was still crystal clear after all this time, and she had it memorized down to the number of steps it took to get to the right turn.

It was a three hour run. Two underground, then one through the city out into the suburbs.

While the first two hours were definitely not fun, it was the last hour that was tricky.

Avoiding cameras, not drawing any unwanted attention, dressing so no one could see her face without looking too much like the criminal she was.

It was also more exhausting.

It was an hour of sprinting across rooftops, sprinting through town, then sprinting some more.

It was a little funny to her that the journey to where she needed to go was more difficult than actually breaking into the building.

She had a set of scrubs stored in a nearby lockbox, along with a wig and a few prosthetics to make her look more like Ansel, one of the nurses working the night shift.

The security guard, Shelly, was prone to reading romance novels during her shift and never questioned why she occasionally thought she saw two of the same person wandering around.

It was no different tonight.

Once she had everything in place, Aelin strode confidently through the halls, grabbing charts and nodding like she knew what the hell she was looking at.

No one stopped her, no one questioned her.

When she got to the room and chart she wanted, she slipped inside soundlessly and crept up to the bed.

Despite the ever-present urge to hurry things along, she stuck to her plan and kept the dose the same.

The person on the bed never woke up, never noticed her slip an extra drug into the IV bag hanging on the wall.

Silent, efficient, traceless.

Just like she'd been taught.

Leaving was even easier than entering.

She waited until real-Ansel had been out of the guard's sight for a while, then walked out the back door of the facility like she hadn't just committed a felony.

One of the few crimes she actually deserved to be in prison for, ironically.

Then she ran back, hiding in the traffic camera's blind spots and ditching the wig along the way.

It was a little stupid and drawn out to do it this way, not to mention unbelievably cruel, but Aelin had always had a flair for the dramatic.

Plus, like she said: exciting.

~Rowan~

Doubt is a strange emotion.

It starts small, so small you hardly even realize it's there.

And then, over time, it grows and grows like a fungus, eventually becoming something that you think about all the time. Something that kills you.

Rowan didn't believe in doubt.

His problem had never been with not believing in himself, it'd always been with the opposite affliction: over-conviction.

He believed things so fully, so deeply, it was hard to see it any other way.

It was what made him such a good lawyer. As the top public prosecutor in the city, he had a reputation for being impossible to win against.

He convinced himself of the defendant's guilt so completely, the jury had almost no option but to believe him.

He hadn't always been that way, he didn't think. Argumentative and stubborn, sure. His mother could attest to that. But never so unflinchingly self-assured. So alright with deceiving himself if need be.

If he had to guess, he'd say it'd started two months after the day of Aelin's trial.

He hadn't been lying to her four days ago; every word had been the truth. He'd worked his ass off all those years ago, trying to find something that would help him either clear her name or at least fucking sleep at night.

He'd given himself a timeline, deciding that if he couldn't find a single lead in two months, there probably wasn't one. Two months, and then he'd let it go.

He didn't regret stopping his hunt--he'd seen what an obsession could do to someone.

And when that day had come, he'd thought he was ready. He'd exhausted himself working both her case and the ones he was assigned, burning the candle at both ends and sleeping in the office more nights than his own bed.

There'd been nothing to be found. The evidence, the testimonies, the medical examiner's reports... they'd all pointed to Aelin.

So eventually he'd forced himself to stop looking.

But the sight of her swinging between the two court police officers, fighting for just one more second with him with a desperation he'd never seen from her... he hadn't known how he could just forget something like that.

The image followed him, haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers. Lined with tears and disbelief and so much hurt he felt like invisible hands were wrapped around his neck.

So he'd hardened himself against it.

He'd repeated the pieces of evidence against her, told himself she was guilty until the words were easy to say, forced himself to visualize the crime scenes of her victims whenever he thought of her.

Piece by piece, he'd swapped out the months of positive memories they had with stone cold facts.

And it had worked.

After a month, he could sleep again. After a year, he hardly thought of her and when he did, it was with disgust.

Yet now, over eight years later, he found himself with just the slightest amount of doubt again.

It was the same nagging, incessant feeling he hadn't been able to shake eight years ago. Back for round two, apparently.

At first, he'd played it off as nerves from their conversation. She'd worked him up so much he'd admitted how much he'd once loved her and said things he shouldn't have.

His body was reacting to the sadness in her eyes, the surprise that had bloomed when he'd told her he'd fought for her. It was emotion, nothing based in logic, that made him want to start looking again.

At least that's what he told himself.

But four days later, he found himself on the couch--he really did need to give up and just buy a new bed--staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep and not being able to.

Because... well because what if she was telling the truth?

Why else would she have told him that story?

What had he missed during all those late nights spent hunched over her folder?

The questions grew and grew, until that once-little shard of doubt started to slowly drive him mad.

The uncertainty, no matter how small it had begun, had grown to be almost irritatingly large and unavoidable.

He couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. The breadcrumbs that apparently only he could find.

What did that mean?

And why couldn't he just let it go?

"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his blanket off and storming to the closet.

Like a love-struck idiot, he'd kept a box full of the stuff she'd left at his apartment during their relationship. The stuff that wasn't evidence, at least.

If it was something only he could find like she'd said, it was probably something only he had access to.

He dropped the box on his kitchen table and opened the lid.

Then cursed when the first thing he saw was a pair of red lace underwear. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about and remembering.

Especially when he'd barely been able to resist the temptation to kiss her in that interrogation room.

Something about the way she'd looked at him after he'd told her he'd fought for her all those years ago had rattled the grip he had on his control hard.

She'd seemed so... sad. So hopeless. It had brought out the urge to comfort her in whatever way he could.

Hearing about her childhood and how she'd been raised by Arobynn Hamel hadn't made it any better. Truthfully, it'd broken something inside of him.

She'd always been so positive around him--a ray of light he'd felt was put on this earth just for him.

And all the while, she'd been forced to live with and work for one of the most notorious crime syndicate members of all time.

He'd always known she hadn't had a good childhood, but there was a difference between foster care hell and an actual house of horrors. Rowan couldn't even imagine the things she'd seen. Been forced to see, to do.

She made it out, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

But had she?

If what she'd told him was true, she'd killed those people because she'd been forced to.

It hadn't been her choice.

But there was something else about her, something he couldn't stop thinking about.

The secret she'd eluded to, the one that apparently only he had the key to solving.

A secret she'd promised would explain everything.

He tossed the underwear on the table, vowing to ignore them.

Then threw them in the trash a minute later when that became impossible.

You're such an asshole, he told himself, shaking his head. It's been eight years.

Even if that part of their relationship was most definitely memorable.

"Jesus," he laughed, running a hand over his face. Why was he even thinking about that?

Maybe it was the look in her eyes four days ago, or maybe it was simply that Aelin had been an important part of his life. He'd never forget the connection they'd had. Maybe it would always be a part of him.

But that was ridiculous, because he'd been connected to plenty of women since. Plenty of gorgeous brunettes and redheads.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to date a blonde, but that didn't mean anything.

He was over her.

Obviously.

Forcing his thoughts away from Aelin, he grabbed the next thing in the box.

Her address book. Maybe she'd left a note in there?

He flipped it open, scrolling through blank page after blank page. Her cousin's address and phone number were there--both of which he confirmed with police records--but other than that, it was blank.

The next thing he found made the ache in his chest expand to a soul-sucking hole.

It was a travel brochure for Aruba.

The edges were frayed from how much she'd flipped through it, and notes in her handwriting were scribbled throughout the pages.

He remembered this, all right.

He'd woken up one morning, a morning that seemed like a lifetime ago, to find her laying on top of him, leafing through the travel pamphlet with a huge grin on her face.

"We're going to Aruba," she'd whispered in lieu of a greeting, leaning down to press her lips to his.

"Why?" he'd asked back between kisses.

"Because it's the perfect place to hide from your real life," had been her laughed response.

She'd planned a trip for them at Christmas. Their very first trip together.

Every time they saw each other, she'd shown him a new page or told him about a new activity she wanted to do.

In general, she was a happy, excited person, but he'd never seen her so thrilled over anything like she was that trip.

He'd hidden it better, trying to play it cool, but he'd been excited, too.

He'd pictured her on the beach, running in the sand and smiling and laughing and drinking from a coconut. He'd imagined sneaking to the beach one night and making love to her in the ocean.

He'd imagined getting down on one knee and asking her to be his travel partner for life.

She'd been arrested two weeks before they were supposed to leave.

He tossed the little magazine back into the box, shaking his head to clear it of the memories and long-lost dreams.

The only thing left in the worn box was books.

Aelin had volunteered at a publishing house, trying to get hired as a fiction editor, and she'd always had a book in her ridiculously heavy pocket book.

She'd given him a few of her favorites, claiming that if he ever wanted to know the "real her," he had to read them.

A statement that made a lot more sense now than it used to.

He grabbed the one on top and leafed through it, going through the pages and scanning.

When that didn't yield anything, he flipped to the back of the book and looked at the inscription she'd written him.

March 1

Rowan,

I know you're not a fan of fiction, let alone romantic, feminist fiction, but I hope you'll read this and fall in love with Elizabeth's character like I did.

Aelin

He turned the book over and looked at the front again, then flipped through it again, then went through the whole process again.

Why did he feel like something about this didn't add up? And why was this, of all things, what she'd left as a breadcrumb?

He didn't figure it out until he reread the inscription for the fifth time and realized the date she'd written.

March 1st.

It was wrong; she'd given him this book on his birthday in February. He remembered because he'd laughed about her giving a grown man a romance novel for his birthday.

Why had she put March 1st? And why did that date stand out in his mind?

Stomach dropping, he finally figured out why that date was so important. It was the date of the first murder.

Maddison Kliff, a state senator who controversially wanted to fund renewable energy in the upcoming year, had been murdered the morning of March 1st eight years ago.

Breadcrumb.

He grabbed the next book from the stack, Wuthering Heights, and flipped to the end.

Almost the exact same inscription, except the date was April 13th, and the inspiring character was Linton Heathcliff.

April 13th was the day another victim died.

Rowan's heart started pounding, so hard he thought he was going to either pass out or go into cardiac arrest.

What was the connection between these dates, characters, and victims? Rowan could feel it in his gut that this was what she'd been talking about. It had to be.

He flipped through the books again, looking for something else, but there was nothing there. Nothing was underlined or highlighted, and the books were all in brand-new condition, no pages were bookmarked.

"What are you trying to tell me, Aelin?" he whispered, rubbing at his temples.

He made a list of all the dates and characters, stared at it until he thought he'd go blind, and tried to think like her.

Except her mind was a complex puzzle he'd never quite solved, so that didn't give him anything besides a headache.

He looked in the box again, hoping to magically find another note or something that explained everything in simple, idiot-proof terms.

But all that was there was that damn Aruba magazine.

It's the perfect place to hide from your real life.

The words came rushing back to him, so suddenly and violently it was like his subconscious had been shouting it for a while.

Was that it?

Maybe the connection wasn't only between the dates and characters, but it also had something to do with Aruba.

Maybe that was where this secret, whatever it was, was hiding.

Knowing he was probably grasping at straws, Rowan grabbed his phone and called the one person who'd help him.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need a favor, Gavriel."

He heard a heavy sigh. "Like a we've been friends for twenty years favor or like an I'm the Chief of Police favor?"

"The latter," Rowan answered.

"Dammit, Rowan, you're going to get me fired one day." That was what he said every time. There was a long pause, then, "What do you need?"

"Flight manifests from Rifthold to Aruba from ten different days eight years ago."

Gavriel caught on quickly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a former flame of yours, would it? One currently serving time for ten murders from eight years ago?"

"Of course not," he lied, knowing he was busted.

Another sigh. "You need to let this go, kid."

Rowan ran a hand over his face, knowing that wasn't possible. Not when, for the first time since he'd been assigned this God forbidden case, he had a lead.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I will, as long as you promise to drop it once whatever you're chasing ends up to be yet another dead end."

Knowing he didn't have another choice, Rowan agreed.

Gavriel told him he'd send them over, then said softly, "I know you loved her, Rowan, but it's time to move on."

It's not that easy, he thought, thinking once again of Aelin sitting in that tiny cell, skin pale and hair too long.

"Thanks for your help," he said instead, hanging up before the lecture could continue.

A few minutes later, he was printing out the passenger lists from all the Rifthold to Aruba flights on each of the ten dates.

Starting with August 1st, he went through, passenger by passenger, and looked for an Elizabeth.

There'd been three direct flights to Aruba that day, so by the time he found it, his eyes were so tired he almost missed it entirely.

But there was a name that stuck out, one that was straight out of his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Seat 14C had been occupied by Elizabeth Darcy, and she'd flown directly from Rifthold to Aruba on August 1st.

Rowan's jaw damn near hit the floor.

His hands shook as he highlighted the name, writing the victim's name next to it to keep it straight in his head.

His mind whirled with possible explanations, but he didn't let himself think about anything except the next date.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he went through the passenger list for April 13th.

And sure enough, Linton Heathcliff was on one of the flights. In the same damn seat.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, grabbing the next sheet of paper.

He went date by date, flight by flight, and by the time he'd located every character, he was sure of what he'd found. What she'd left for him.

It wasn't a breadcrumb, it was the whole goddamn loaf.

Rowan barely made it to the kitchen sink before his stomach emptied as an explanation of what had really happened eight years ago started to form in his mind.

He didn't have all the pieces, but the ones he did have made him literally sick to think about.

Her insistence on being innocent, her begging him to look again, telling him only he could find the clues... it all made sense.

The doubt he'd been struggling with for eight long years suddenly disappeared, replaced by a certainty so swift and thorough and all encompassing, it almost took his breath away.

She hadn't been lying.

She hadn't killed those ten people.

She couldn't have, because...

"They're still alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dun dun duuuuun

part 4 out next Friday (sorry for the slow updates I'm in summer school)

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fandom

[engie-ivy]

Lily and Mary want Remus to ask Sirius out, because what can go wrong? Well, don't underestimate the trainwreck that is Remus Lupin.

Read Part One here!

Read Part Two here!

Read The Final Part here!

Get What He's Saying: Part Three

Mary has yet to stop laughing. “Five minutes! Every point, in five minutes! We thought you’d need a week, but no! Merlin, the boy is so gone for you.”

Remus gives Lily a look. “Why is she here?”

Lily shrugs. “I had to tell her why I needed her help, and now she’s invested.”

“Invested.”

Mary nods. “I want to see Padfoony happen.”

“Padfoony.”

“You’re the ones always using those weird nicknames,” Mary says.

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. “You must be messing with me.”

“I don’t mess around when it comes to Padfoony,” Mary says, dead-serious.

“Okay, okay.” Lily claps her hands. “First thing first, we need to establish whether you like him back.”

“So we’re acting like it’s already a given that he likes me?”

Lily waves the checklist in Remus’ face. “It kind of is! Now, do you fancy the boy, or not?”

“I do,” Remus mutters under his breath. Then, in a louder voice, “But I still think it could all be some misunderstanding!”

“Only one way to find out,” Mary says. “Ask him out!”

Remus looks at her like she’s gone insane.

“Oh, come on, Lupin! You owe me!”

“Why on earth do I owe you?”

“I threw myself at a boy, who I knew would reject me, in the middle of a packed Great Hall, for everyone to see,” Mary says, pointing her finger accusingly at him. “All to help you get your shite together!”

Remus points out that he neither asked nor wanted Mary to do so, but to no avail.

“Ask him out! Ask him out! Ask him out!” Mary cheers.

“But what if you’ve been reading all the signs wrong?” Remus asks desperately.

“For argument’s sake,” “Lily sighs. “I’ll play along with you. Say it’s indeed a misunderstanding, what’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Well,” Remus says, before continuing in one breath. “He could start feeling uncomfortable around me, and while trying to remain friends, he’ll inevitably start pulling away, and we’ll slowly grow apart and become estranged. Then, if we all go and fight dark wizards after school, like we’ve been talking about, we won’t really know each other anymore, and we won’t be able to trust each other. Thanks to us, our group will be infested with distrust, suspicion and false accusations. We’ll get all our friends killed, and ourselves too, if one doesn’t end up sending the other to Azkaban.”

Mary blinks at him.

Lily rubs her temples. “Remus... Even you have to admit that there are a whole lot more turns, turns that can and will go differently, between you telling Black you fancy him, and the eventual death and destruction of everything you hold dear. I meant, what’s the worst thing that can happen now?”

Remus hesitates. “He could laugh at me... Not want to be my friend anymore... And of course everyone will pick his side, and I’ll be friendless and alone for the rest of my-”

“Okay, stop!” Lily holds up her hand. “Let’s assume that’s the worst-case-scenario. That’ll only happen under the assumptions that everyone who thinks Black fancies you, which is probably eighty percent of the student population, is completely deluded, and Black himself, who hexes everyone who so much as looks at you wrong, suddenly turns out to be a major arsehole, and all your friends, even the ones who encouraged you to confess to Black, suddenly turn out to be major arseholes as well, just turning their backs on you. Again, for argument’s sake, let’s say it’s a possibility, then it’s a possibility with a very, very small chance of happening. The chance of all the signs and hints pointing to what they seem to be pointing to, on the other hand, is rather substantial. So, the question is, Remus Lupin, are you willing to take a very small risk if the prize is-”

“Sticking your tongue down Sirius Black’s throat!” Mary finishes.

“I was going to say date the man of your dreams, but yeah,” Lily shrugs.

Remus bites his lip. “I hate it when you go all logical on me. I suppose the risk is small, and the gain high...”

“Exactly!” Lily says, nudging him. “And as a certain pretty boy always says, what’s life without a little risk?”

What’s life without a little risk.

Well, a hell of a lot less stressful, that’s for sure, Remus thinks as he stands in front of Sirius. Lily and Mary, now also joined by James, staring at them in a very not-subtle way and basically giving Remus a thumbs-up, is definitely not helping his nerves.

Sirius looks at him with clear, silver-grey eyes, tilts his head to the side in that way that makes his hair fall over his shoulder and smiles at him. He has a nice smile. And nice hair. And nice eyes.

“Alright, Moony?” Sirius asks.

Remus takes a breath. He knows what to say. ‘Will you go out with me this weekend?’ Not a very complicated sentence. And he has even practiced it. It should come out easily. It should. But instead, Remus starts rambling.

“James was going out with Hestia, and claimed I wasn’t in a different league, and then he was acting all weird, so Lily made a list, and I only needed five minutes, and now I owe Mary-”

Sirius’ eyes, that had been large with confusion, narrow at the last part. “Mary?” He asks sharply. “What does Mary have to do with anything?”

“She’s apparently invested now,” Remus says lamely.

Sirius snorts. “She definitely seemed invested in you at breakfast this morning.” The next moment he seems to be sulking. “Look, if you’re here to ask my advice on Mary, don’t bother. She’s clearly into you, so if you want to date her, go for it, I’d say.”

“Go for it?” Remus repeats, finding himself getting annoyed as well, because of Sirius’ petulant behaviour, and the fact that he apparently thinks he should ‘go for it’ with Mary.

“Not that it matters what I think,” Sirius mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at a point somewhere above Remus’ head.

“It doesn’t,” Remus says, in a harsher voice than he intended.

Sirius’ eyes snap back to Remus’ face. “Well, do whatever the hell you want, then.”

“I will!” Remus says, raising his voice. “And I don’t want to date Mary!”

“Then don’t date Mary!” Sirius is now also raising his voice.

“I won’t!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

For a moment, both boys are just standing there, staring angrily at each other.

Remus gives himself a shake. “Why are we talking about Mary?”

“You brought her up!”

“Because Mary wants me to date you!” Remus exclaims, before he can think about it.

Sirius’ eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t give a rat’s arse about what she wants!”

“So you don’t want to date me,” Remus states, his voice turning cold.

“Not as a favour to Mary bloody McDonald,” Sirius hisses.

“It’s not because Mary wants me to date you!” Remus shouts.

“Then why?”

“Because I want me to date you!”

“Fine!” Sirius exclaims. “Go out with me, then!”

“Oh no, you don’t!” Remus points an accusing finger in Sirius’ direction. “I gathered all my courage to ask you on a date, so don’t go switching it around on me and ask me out instead!”

Sirius throws his hands up in the air. “Alright! Bloody ask me out, then!”

“I bloody will!”

“Go ahead!”

“Will you go out with me this weekend?” Remus asks heatedly.

“Yes, I do!” Sirius bites back.

“Okay, great!”

“Great!”

Both boys storm off in the opposite direction.

“What...” Lily clears her throat. “What was that?”

“I...” James blinks uncertainly and runs a hand through his hear. “I think they’ve got a date?”

Part One

Part Two

The Final Part

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #lily evans #mary mcdonald #oblivious remus lupin

[gunpowderdtim]

Talk to me about narratomancy? Just whatever you want to talk about it I'm deathly interested

!!!! Today today i had so many Thoughts. To many. It almost rivals March 2020 thoughts

So

My current running names for the four pillars of Narratomancy are as follows:

Universal Story

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

Story Echoes

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

Each of these refer to VERY different things within the concept of Narratomancy. I will do my best to describe them. I have coined every term here but narratomancy, to which I believe the honor falls to @lucky-sevens

Keep in mind this is 50% theory, 20% headcanon, 30% canon, and that you do not have to agree with me.

Universal Story

Universal Story refers to the story of the universe, not stories in the universe, the story of the universe. In other words, the story of ‘Dr. Carmilla & The Mechanisms’

This section of Narratomancy is a tad more meta than the others, as it does in some form rely on real-world events to define it, as well as having little to no in story inpact on anything. Maki created the mechanisms universe, clear and simple. She founded the band, and hashed out the earliest lore. Dr. Carmilla is the main character of the universe, not of all the stories, but of the universe. Essentially, Universal Story refers to the fact that Doc C is the main character of the universe, and that the mechanisms are her side characters, in the story of the universe. I have taken to viewing it as doc carmilla stuff is the story of the universe, and the mechanisms is a spin off of that. Both are just as canon, but not specifically canon to eachother. Regardless, the universes story is Carmilla, from starting on Terra, to Aurora, through Loreli, into creating The Mechansims, all of that. All of that is the story of The Universe. The Mechanisms backstories are included in this, of course, because they are part of Carmilla's tale, not the other way around. Through this, I conclude that The Mechanisms are a spin off, focusing on the mechs rather than Carmilla. After all, The Mechansisms are a vessel for telling stories, for fleshing out the universe.

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

This refers to the mechs penchant for falling into narrative roles similar to troupes that they represent, or basically acting as a crutch for a story to continue. In OUATIS, Jonny acts as The Prince figure in sleeping beauty. He saves Briar. In being The Prince, he allows Snow's forces to attack cole, and win the war. Without that whole escapade, its likely the war would have stretched on years longer, and not have ended as it did.

Or, Ashes as Hades. What do mythological Hades and Ashes have in common? Hades was eaten by his father, Kronos, because there was a prophesy that told Kronos that his children would usurp him as king of the titans. Ashes figured out Mickey was the snitch, Mickey realized beforehand and lead Ashes into a trap. Killing them because he knew that they could ruin him. Basically, a parental figure betrays the child figure due to them knowing the child could ruin/destroy their position of power. As well as, if Ashes were not Hades, the Suits would not have met, and because of that the story of Ulysses Dies At Dawn would not have happened.

Continuing, while I am not nearly as much of an Arthurian legend person as I am a greek mythology person, some quick google searches revealed a similar similarity between Merlin and Brian. Basically, Merlin and the lady of the lake. She was basically his apprentice/a lady he was in love with? She basically betrayed and killed him after learning all out magic from him. Brian brought a priest back to life, only to have the priest betray and kill him. The tying together point here is clearly the "someone you helped betrays and kills you." That or, the fact they are both magical. Beyond this, If Brian were not on Fort Galfridian, Galahad would never have sought out the grail, and the entire plot would not have occurred.

In The Bifrost Incident, the Mechanisms do not take narrative roles in the way they did in prior albums. But this does not exclude them from being vital points in the story, after all, if Ivy were not present Lyf would not have been able to recover the data on the Black Box)

In all of these situations, (barring Jonny as The Prince) the Mechanisms have had some sort of connection point in the Roles they assume, as well as in their roles, changing the story so that it can continue to the ending presented in the albums.

Story Echoes

Story echoes are, to be blatant, simply canon. No argument, no theorizing, just canon. Refers to the fact that in the mechanism's universe stories 'echo' or basically repeat. In Kofi's fiction for HNOC, its shown rather blatantly that there are more Arthurs in this universe than just the one in hnoc.

In those burning instants, he’d feel the weight of it all, and know it was true. The golden age that never came; the city that stood at the dawn of a world instead of in its dying embers. And beyond – to a myriad of Camelots and a thousand thousand Arthurs, unfathomable worlds apart, each different, each fighting the same hopeless battle.

I know there are other examples of this, but they do escape me right now.

Lastly,

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

This one is also directly canon. On the mechanisms blog, this post defines it rather well.

In the ask, the asker asks "...Do you heal injuries at an abnormal rate, or can you not be injured?"

In the reply, it is stated.

It depends on the narrative imperative - sometimes a Mechanism might die for a while, and only come back later when it becomes more fun, other times they’ll just heal/ignore wounds as they take them. It’s not something they can control, but tends to follow a rough logic of whatever works best for the story.

This is just canon, no arguing or stating otherwise. A mechanisms ability to heal depends entirely on what's best for the story.

Other examples in canon where this comes into play would be as follows:

GPTVTMK. In gptvtmk, Jonny's severed head is there. Is talks. It moves. In one of the fictions, it's stated Jonny cannot separate his heart from his body. Therefore, these are contradictory. Under normal circumstances, this would be a plothole. It is not here. Under narratomancy, Jonny was capable of being a severed head due to the fact that that would be best for the story.

OUATIS. Jonny walks through rounds and rounds of bullets.

HNOC. This example is a bit different from the rest, as it is not about a Mechanism. Galahad does something pretty fucking impossible.

And so Galahad stood and walked into the corridor. The guns trained on the preacher and opened fire. 

Say what you want about faith, but it can have powerful effects on those that have it. It can keep you from faltering as the bullets start to slam into you. It can keep you walking as your legs are shot to bloody stumps. It can keep you laughing as your lungs are filled with shrapnel and lead. It can keep you smiling as half your face is blown away. It can keep a man like Galahad standing tall until the guns clicked dry.

It is my belief that this is another example of narrative imperative. Under normal rules, Galahad could never have done this. But his faith, his beleif, kept him going. And that was good for the story.

So. That wraps up my narratomancy ramble for today. hope yall enjoyed.

*EDIT: Nastya does say it's nanobots. My opinion is: it's both. The nanobots are narrative driven <3

#the mechanisms #asks

[novelconcepts]

Prompt: Dani and Jamie first argument. Maybe the first time one of them sleeps on the couch (and doesn't sleep at all)

It’s such a stupid fight, Jamie thinks even as they’re having it. Such a stupid argument, she doesn’t quite know what kicked it off. Months and months on the road with Dani, months and months of learning all the little particulars of her--taste in music, dislike for repetitive tapping sounds, unpredictable sense of humor, awful propensity for replicating in private the accent of whatever state they’ve landed in today--and never once did they argue. Not really. She was beginning to think they never would--that Dani’s peculiar burden, her own peculiar resistance to logic, would keep them both safe from that which befalls all couples.

Silly. Silly to imagine, with the lovesick eyes of that honeymoon stage, and sillier now. The Dani she’d been met with at the start had been alternately strange and sad, hopeful and haunted, but she’d always been new. There’s a certain sweet charm that comes with novelty, making even the most irritating traits shine. Everything can be wiped clean with a kiss, when it’s new, or with wandering hands, or with a well-timed joke.

But months fade into more, and before she knows it, there’s nearly a year behind them. A year of them. A year of Dani’s smile growing stronger, of Dani’s hands shaking less, of her own belief that this is...good. Better than she could have imagined, letting her guard down. Better than anything she’s ever been granted in her life.

And now: 

Now a fight. Stupid. Small. Not like the closest they’ve come before now--Dani rolling her eyes at Jamie’s inability to make a bed, Jamie scoffing over Dani’s oddball methods of sorting laundry--but...stupid, nonetheless. She’d been tired. She’d snipped. Dani, unexpectedly, had snipped back.

And suddenly, they were arguing. Genuinely, for the first time, arguing--about Jamie’s tendency to shut doors, about Dani’s irreparable need to feign a smile. Both of them spotting that urge in the other which is so easily reflected in a mirror: to fix at all costs. To close off paths to darkness. To make it better, even if it means doing it in silence, or doing it alone.

Dani says, “If you’re going to keep walking away in the middle of a conversation--”

Jamie says, “Well, it’s not like you’re talking--”

It’s stupid. It’s silly. It shouldn’t be happening at all. Tired, she thinks. Tired, and it’s been raining for days, and the shop hasn’t been pulling the customers they’d expected this quarter. Dani has been quieter lately, it’s true, though not the way she’d been those first few weeks. Not the quiet of miserable baggage. Not the simple weariness of looking into the jungle for the eyes of a beast. 

Jamie can understand that. Jamie’s gotten good already at searching out those moments, at taking Dani’s hand--or leaving her to her peace--as needed. 

This, the normal of it all. This, she isn’t ready for. She’s never had a normal relationship, exactly; there had been bone shards and broken promises in the last one, and secrets tucked carefully away, and smiles that never met bright eyes. There had been a lot to unpack, to offer up on the altar of her own dignity. But normalcy? The normal edge of a woman’s voice when she’s just too tired to say the right thing? The normal cut of her own words when she’s just too off to play diplomat in response?

It’s new, and it’s weird, and it sits badly in her chest when Dani throws up her hands and says, “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I need a minute.”

She watches her stalk away, down the hall to the bedroom. Dani doesn’t slam the door. It almost makes it harder; if she’d done that, the intention behind the act would be clear, impossible to miss. If she’d done that, Jamie could piece it together: a shut door means keep out, means stay away, means don’t follow. 

The Dani who wakes from shuddering nightmares always wants her close.

The Dani who’d just shaken her head in exasperation? She can’t be sure.

A part of her wonders if this isn’t all her fault--if it’s the mark of a bad day she should have seen coming. She’s better about this, normally. She’s better at all of this. The woman who had just snipped and sliced, whose smile had been bitter-edged, isn’t unrecognizable; she’d known her so well from a year-old mirror. The woman who had threatened violence at every irritation. The woman who had grown thorns to prevent her own puncture wounds. Not a woman she’s ever been with Dani, really, but do these shadow parts of a self ever die? Has she tricked herself--tricked them both--into believing Dani’s love was enough to bury thirty years of habit in the ground?

Dani hasn’t shut the door, but she hasn’t come slinking back out with apology in her voice, either. And maybe that’s as it should be. Maybe that’s right. Hadn’t it been Jamie who had started it? She can’t be sure--there’s a strange fog around the conversation, an adrenaline-pumping, threat-level-high intoxication eating away at the memory already. Anger has a way of banishing good sense, and all detail along with it. Maybe she hadn’t started it, but she sure hadn’t let it die with a single snide remark.

And now, she thinks, sitting on the edge of the couch with a spreading unease, Dani can see. For good, for real, the bits of her she’d managed to hide away for a year. Dani can see the part of her she’d tried so hard to keep leashed since a meltdown in a rose garden.

Dani can see it, and doesn’t Dani carry enough? Isn’t Dani tired enough, without this added burden of someone else’s anger?

It’s not...peaceful. It’s rage. She shakes her head, presses a hand to her mouth, remembering the shiver in Dani’s voice. And maybe this hadn’t been rage, exactly--neither of them yelling, neither throwing things or landing harsh blows--but it hadn’t been peace, either. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, a tremble in her legs, how little like them the evening has felt.

The door is open, but she can’t hear Dani moving around. Maybe she’s gone to bed. Maybe she’s decided enough is enough for one night. 

All right. It’s one night. What’s one night? There will be others--probably. Never any certainty to a thing like that, but she’s as near to sure as she can be. There will be other nights, and they’ll talk it through, but...not now. Not with Dani having left her here. Not with Dani sitting silent in the other room, probably letting her own anger twist around her like a shroud. 

The couch isn’t so bad. The knit blanket is too light for the spring chill, maybe, and the throw pillow is too small beneath her head, but she’s had worse. Years on a prison cot, for one. In comparison, this couch is paradise. 

A quiet paradise. 

A quiet, miserable paradise.

She exhales, reaching to switch off the lamp. One night. Admittedly, sleeping alone for the first time in a year feels wrong--incredible, how quickly she’s come to rely on the pressure of Dani’s arm around her middle, the soft brush of Dani’s breath against her shoulder--but she had started it. She’s almost certain now. She’d started it, and Dani had rightly left her to think on her mistake. Dani had rightly walked away and left her to mull it all over.

It works. It has always worked. Worked just fine back then, leaving a shadowed greenhouse for a few days to get her head on straight. Maybe Dani’s right about that tendency to shut doors, to lick her wounds in private. Maybe Dani’s right that it’s a habit too ingrown to break.

Probably. 

She’s too aware of everything--the breeze through the cracked window, the hum of the refrigerator, each creak-and-settle of the walls around her--in the dark. Too aware of how small she feels, stretched out beneath a thin blanket, her hands folded awkwardly on her stomach. Too aware of the way Dani had thrown up her hands, headed back down the hall, left her to pace the cage of her own stupid anger alone.

What was she even so upset about? That Dani had...what? Looked at her askance? Shaken her head? Not quite modulated her tone, and come out sounding as though the business taking a bit of a dip is Jamie’s fault? Dani hadn’t meant it like that. She’s sure neither of them had really meant any of it like it had come out--that, sometimes, words and tone get all muddied up and blow holes in things that ought to be strong enough to withstand any attack. Hadn’t they been over it and over it in therapy? That she needs to stop and breathe and calculate the intent, not the impact, of a person’s behavior?

Intent: mild irritation. A bad mood. Offense taken and dealt without really looking.

Impact: Dani in the bedroom. Her on the couch. Sleeping apart for the first time since leaving Bly. 

She closes her eyes. Tries to breathe. Tries to remember what it was like sleeping alone, all those months ago. Tries to remember how naturally it had come, stepping back from the others, going home to her own flat. 

That woman feels even further away than the one who’d used anger as armor. That woman feels too far to reach. 

“What are you doing?”

She jumps. Dani is standing in the hall, backlit by the bedroom light. Her expression is washed out, unreadable. 

“Sleeping,” Jamie says in a voice not quite calm, not quite stable. Dani makes a thin noise.

“On the couch?”

“You--” She sits up, clutching the blanket for support. “You said you needed space.”

“I said...” Dani takes a step nearer, and another. Her brows are drawn, Jamie can see now, her arms wrapped around herself as though for warmth. “I said I needed a minute.”

“Right.” This doesn’t feel like them. This feels even less like them than the argument had--because that, at least, had been petty and dumb. This feels too much like open water, uncharted, unexpectedly deep. “Wanted to respect that.”

“By sleeping on the couch.” Dani has stopped, still hugging herself, just out of reach. Jamie gropes up for the lamp, switching it on without looking. 

“Well...yeah. You said--”

“A minute, Jamie.” Is it her imagination, or is Dani trying not to smile? “You thought a minute meant the whole night?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is suddenly tight. Dani is looking at her, not with irritation, not with a fed-up grimace, but with a burgeoning smile. 

“Haven’t you ever had a weird spat with a girlfriend before?” 

Not trusting herself to speak, Jamie shakes her head. Not one like you. Not one carrying too much to manage. Not one I’ve fallen in--

“Well--neither have I, I guess.” Dani is almost grinning now, though there’s something jumpy about her eyes. Something like she’s trying, even now, to hide behind old habits. “That was...that was weird, right?”

“It was,” says Jamie carefully. She’s too off-kilter to read between the lines of Dani’s rictus grin. Too unbalanced to see what Dani is really trying to ask.

“It was weird,” Dani repeats, as if trying to convince herself. “And weird happens. Weird doesn’t mean...weird doesn’t mean we...”

Ah. There it is. She may have lain out here staring at the ceiling, parsing out her own guilt, but Dani was in there doing something worse. Dani was in that bedroom trying to determine how much of that fight was even her--and how much, maybe, belonged to a particularly weighty ghost.

She unfolds from the couch slowly, not sure if Dani is quite ready to be touched. She’s rocking a little, Jamie can see now, back and forth on her heels. Like she’s trying desperately to hold together. Like she’s coming ever-closer to unwinding. 

“Fights happen,” Jamie says. “Dumb ones, more’n most. I’m sorry for starting it.”

“You didn’t,” Dani says. “Did you?”

Her grin is loosening a little, the struts falling out along the way. In a minute, the whole thing is going to come down, and the expression waiting beneath will--Jamie suspects--look an awful lot like a woman freshly haunted. 

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, taking a hesitant step closer. “Does it matter? Sorry either way.”

“Me too,” Dani says, her voice small. “It was a--a bad day.”

“Yeah.” Her fingers are twitching at her sides, itching to reach out. Dani glances from her face to her hand, her smile flickering at last. 

“Can you, um. Can you come to bed anyway? Even if it’s not okay. Even if we’re--”

“We’re okay,” Jamie says, and knows it. Stupid, petty arguments full of bitter, petty words mean so little when stacked up to how Dani makes her feel. Even on bad nights, Dani makes her feel safer than anyone she’s ever known. 

She hopes Dani can say the same. Is determined, if Dani can’t yet, to make sure she leaves that exact legacy on Dani’s life. Safe. Secure. Loved. 

Dani is reaching out, pulling her close, her breath fast and sharp. “Can we make it a rule?” she asks into Jamie’s shoulder, her forehead pressing down hard. 

“What? Never go to bed angry?”

“Never go to bed apart.” With every stroke of Jamie’s hand across her hair, she seems to settle a little more. Seems to breathe a little easier. “You can be angry, I can’t--we can’t always help that. But come to bed anyway. Kiss me goodnight anyway. Can we make that promise?”

She sounds uncertain, and Jamie knows she’s remembering a final conversation with another person she’d loved. A last she hadn’t known was such until it was too late to take back. There hadn’t been room for forgiveness there, or apology, or a goodnight kiss. 

“Promise,” Jamie says, and knows it’s one she’ll keep faithfully to the end. However long they get. However much time. If they fight once a year or once a month, it won’t matter. Never go to bed apart. That’s doable. It’s the least she can do. 

“Does this mean,” Dani asks, voice muffled, “we’re official now?”

“Officially what?”

Dani shrugs one shoulder. She seems unwilling to remove her face from Jamie’s shoulder, to pull free of Jamie’s embrace. “I dunno. Isn’t this what real couples do? Argue?”

“Maybe.” She’s not sure either of them is standing on firm enough ground to say what real couples do, or don’t do, or shouldn’t do. She’s not sure relationships have enough ground rules to be drawn out and catalogued as such. 

What she is sure of is how Dani makes her feel. That she has, over the past months, been stepping closer and closer to a line. That she will, soon enough, tip over it into something that looks an awful lot like always. 

She could say it now. It might soothe Dani, to hear the words for the first time. But it wouldn’t feel quite right. Wouldn’t be quite what Dani deserves. It can wait. 

“I don’t think that part matters,” she says instead. “The arguing. I think the part that counts is what comes after.”

“Where I can’t stand five more minutes without you hugging me?” Dani sounds shaky, embarrassed. Jamie grips her a little tighter.

“That even when you want to throttle me, you still want me in that bed more.”

That, she thinks, is the mark of a relationship. Of their relationship, at least. Not the bickering. Not the silliness or the pettiness. The desire to make it right again as soon as it’s over. 

“Don’t like fighting with you,” Dani says. Jamie gives her a gentle shake. 

“I do hear it improves the sex.”

“I like the sex,” Dani says, almost sullenly, and Jamie laughs. 

“Well then. No reason to change things, is there?”

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #this week has been way too long and I've been way too tired to do much proper writing #but this sort of thing has been requested more than a few times #so I figured why not