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the-finch-address · 3 years

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Tag: Word Find

Tagged by @sharraus! Thank you!!

tHO isn’t at the stage where I can find half of these words in a comprehensible state since most of it is Draft 1 gibberish. So instead I’m using the opportunity to write something new for each prompt; some being canon from the book and others just standing as an excuse to write the characters interacting. Bc of this the length got a bit......Out Of Hand. Sorry about that. Putting it all under the read more so I don’t bombard anyone’s dashboard

> Prompt: Work [Note; This occurs years before the plot begins]

Vestiel ran his fingers through the grass and picked at early yellow blooms. The harsh clang of metal against wood echoed around him, the sounds of the forest easily lost behind it.

“Can we go home soon?” he whined, “I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.” His bottom lip is brought between his teeth, and he waits. Clang. Clang. Clang. “Please?”

The axe stills. Andi turns, wiping the sweat from his brow while fitting Vestiel with a look. Magpies trill in the wake of his silence, the flutter of fallen leaves following the breeze. Andi straightens his back. “Silas won’t have finished dinner yet, lad, the sun’s still well up the sky.” He answers, looking annoyed, “We’ve plenty of light to finish this up first. Fill the baskets if you’re so restless.”

He reaches for the axe again. The disappointment must have shown on Vestiel’s face, though, since the tool remains lodged, and Andi continues to look distracted. He knew the boy was too young to understand how important this work was, how it kept them warm and fed. He couldn’t blame a child for prioritizing an empty stomach over harsh and thankless labor. Still, that morning’s storm had downed too many trees to not take advantage of. It had to be done.

“Tell you what,” Andi resigns himself, a weary smile lifting his eyes, “I’ll let you do a few strokes, but Vestiel-”

The boy is already up and on his feet, dandelions forgotten in the sunken spots of grass where his legs had crossed, “You mean it?” He brightens, “I can do it all by myself?”

“Listen to me,” Andi lifts a hand, demanding attention, while the other remains on the hilt, “you’ll start with the axe wedged in and bring them down together-” he offers a stern look, “--and I don’t want to hear any complaints. This is your first time, I don’t want you lopping off a toe or, North forbid, a whole foot. You need a feel for the tool before you do anything else.”

Vestiel acknowledges this with a hasty nod, the muttered agreement of “Yeah, yeah, sure” crossing his lips, hand already reaching for the axe.

Andi comes between him with a harsher expression than before, eyebrows raised expectantly. Vestiel lets out a sigh.

“The axe will start in the wood. Got it.” The impatience hasn’t fully left his tone, but it’s an improvement, and Andi appears content by it.

The wood is already a narrowed size when the axe is driven through its flesh. The blade settles halfway down the block and wedges itself firmly along the grain with little resistance, just on the edge of splitting. He brings it to Vestiel, who takes the closer end of the block with his left hand and the hilt with his right.

“Now, you’ll want to bring it down towards the back of the splitting block,” Andi starts, “Make sure you do so with both hands together, or you’ll only-”

Clang. Vestiel opens his eyes, already knowing that Andi is going to ring his neck for having closed them in the first place. All is forgotten at the sight of the severed wood, though, and he can’t help but be excited with the results. It isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s his, and he’s no less proud of it despite his brother's hand-holding. He looks to Andi in hopes of praise.

“Mother’s grief, Vestiel, have some patience!” Is the chastised response he receives instead. “You couldn’t have at least waited for me to finish?”

Vestiel makes a sour face. “I did it fine, didn’t I?” He retorts, “Isn’t that good enough?”

Andi raises a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose, a long and tired breath escaping him. After a minute of patience himself he’s able to give Vestiel the reaction he was looking for. A smile, small but proud. “It’s not bad for your first time,” he says, “but you’re going to need more practice, and patience, than that if you want to hack apart whole trees in a few years.”

He extends a hand to bring Vestiel near, pulling him snug against his side. “You did well.” Andi continues, “but, lad,” his voice lowers to a stern whisper, and

Vestiel pales, “If I ever see your eyes closed with an axe in hand again, you’ll sweep the whole corridor. Twice.”

He swallows harshly and answers only with a nod. The pride blooming in his chest doesn't falter.

> Prompt: Weather

The evening sky flashes white, casting shadows across paintings framed in gold and goblets of silver. Across the room, Caprice of the North hunches over a desk painted in candlelight. He draws a finger across the map in study of its various routes and borders, frowning. Behind him, thunder crashes down. He flinches. Pitiful.

Shaking away the thought, the young deliverer refocuses. His back arches further towards the desk until braided locks of gold spill over onto the wood. Especially now, as he squints in the darkness of his shadow, does he wish this dreaded storm had chosen another night. It brought a miserable chill to his bones despite the grizzly pelt draping heavily over his shoulders and brought an ache to his bones.

Lightning comes again, its brilliant light cutting into the room with the swiftness of a sword’s blow. Capri anticipates it this time. When thunder claps against his window he’s decisively ready for it, his knuckles gone white against clenching fists. He can’t stop their trembling no matter how tightly he’s squeezing.

A knock at the door sends him out of his skin.

Like a sharp wound, the anticipation drives him into a panic. Young flesh grasps aimlessly for a new frame to stretch into, finding nothing but mortal bones. By the time the door swings open he is straightened, remembering a human form, begging the drum within his heart to settle.

Silence greets him. A form approaches from the doorway and draws towards the light, illuminating their features quick enough that Caprice’s hand stills where it rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Dove?” He relaxes and lets himself breathe, forcing air into his lungs with more effort than is needed. “I thought you were with Eivind."

“He was needed elsewhere,” Dove signs. His hands portrayed a sense of disappointment where one couldn’t be seen in his expression, brown eyes seeming indifferent.

Caprice looks away shamefully, “You didn’t have to come,” he says.

“I wanted to.”

His gaze again lifts to meet the other with only a grunt, reluctant to answer in words for fear that his voice might betray him.

Light consumes the room with blinding force and concurrently Caprice’s hand reaches blindly for the edge of the desk to ground himself. It’s silly, he thinks, ruined pride staining his cheeks red. Internally he’s counting the seconds as they go by, steeling himself.

Dove reaches for him--

Capri recoils just as thunder cracks and booms overhead. The approach was too quick, well-meaning as it may have been. Dove understands the reaction. He reads Caprice as well as the noble reads his sign.

The thrashing of rain fills the aching silence and neither of them dares interrupt it. Seconds pass by without distraction until Dove again extends his hand forward. He moves slower than he has to under the young emperor’s weary gaze as though addressing a wounded animal.

When Caprice notices it’s not without backlash. His eyes turn hard, looking fussed. His nails dig into the wood beneath them until angry lines form on the underside of the desk and pain shoots up his fingers.

Dove’s palm settles over his hand, squeezing.

He flinches but can’t bring himself to shake the man away. The silence between them stretches on unbearably after, broken only by the rain. He releases the desk and turns his palm face up, intertwining their fingers wearily. “Thank you.” He whispers.

When the thunder comes this time, he doesn’t flinch.

Prompt: Help

Vestiel’s heartbeat thuds like thunder roaring inside his ears. He stares with too much intent at the earth beneath his worn shoes, doing his best to concentrate on the hole boring over the space near his toes.

Much to his dismay, Fannar-Haise appears to notice.

She carries herself past the snow huts and politely cuts through the crowd, stepping lightly around the fire and between celebrants, their songs alight with a different kind of flame.

Vestiel can’t hear them past his own thoughts. Get out, get out, get out. He forces some semblance of greeting out as she approaches but can’t manage to look her in the eyes. It’s hard most days, but especially now.

“Enjoying the party?” She asks, making no mention of the answer being pretty obvious. The smile on her lips is pitying, judgemental at worst, he just knows it. He can’t bear to lift his chin and see. If Andi were here he could explain himself easily but, as it was, he was going into this situation alone. Completely, utterly alone.

“Yeah,” he lies, “just tired from all the traveling.”

It’s a witless excuse and she knows it. Instead of pointing it out, though, she only offers a shake of her head. There’s a lot to say about communication and Fannar-Haise considers herself an expert on the subject. She watches him fumble about; the trouble in getting his tongue to do its job sticking out to her as sorely as the restless, rhythmic tap of his hand against his hip and the blatant avoidance of eye contact. It answered her question more than his words could, and that was okay.

“You’re overwhelmed,” she nods to herself this time, having seemingly come to a conclusion all on her own, “Let me help. You don’t have to answer with words, a nod will do just fine. Can you walk?”

Vestiel squints at the sole of his shoes, looking confused, then apprehensive, “I’m-”

Silence. No matter how hard he pries, not a single word comes loose from his tongue. The thoughts are there and plentiful, excuses and apologies, maybe something more, fastened tightly like honey coating his throat and hidden away between his ribcage, leaving him breathless and useless.

His chin tilts upward, lips parting, but he can’t manage it. Instead, he allows himself the nod she had been looking for.

“Good. That’s good. We’re going to go somewhere quiet and after that you can tell me what you want to do. Can I touch your hand?”

She patiently waits for the resulting, albeit cautious nod, and takes his hand within her own.

She guides him past the bustling scene like this. As they reach a distance where the noise has muffled he finds it in himself to speak again. It’s slow, at first, allowing his mind time to find the right words. “How did you know?”

Calmly she turns her gaze from the sky, not looking directly at him but rather just past where he stands. There isn’t a soul there when Vestiel follows her gaze over his shoulder, but he’d only half expected one. Andi had learned with time not to stare too long; something told him Haise was just as quick of a learner.

“Call it a hunch,” she hums, “I’ve experienced my fair share of things, Vestiel. This isn’t new or strange, it’s just you.” She pauses to face him, eyes still averted. He returns the favor and looks at her nose like it’s his only salvation, seconded only by the sight of his snow hut in the distance and the soft murmur becoming of the crowd ever fading behind them.

“Besides,” she continues, “these celebrations aren’t a requirement by any standard. They’re here to bring happiness. If something causes you to be unhappy you have no obligation to stay. If you need to step away, I will understand. We will always understand.”

Vestiel doesn’t know what to say when they reach the entrance. Despite her words, he can’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him for having both left the celebration early-- a celebration of his arrival, no less--and now, leaving their leader at the door.

She picks up on this, too.

“I’m going to head back to the others for a while longer. You can join us if you’re feeling up to it, or you can stay here and get some rest. Don’t overthink it, okay?”

Her warmth is everything to him, more grounding than a hole in his shoe could ever be. He wants her to know, wants to find the right words to explain how much her actions mean to him, but there isn’t an easy way to go about it without making a greater fool of himself. He answers with a weak smile and a simple, “Okay”, the best he can offer in way of thanks.

She matches his smile and bids him goodnight.

Prompt: Hope

The scent of leather tanning above flame clings to his nostrils. It fills him with a sense of despair unlike any other, weighing different from the miserable few weeks he’d spent mourning Andi, even. Putrid, a nauseating sort of agony like snakes writhing and tearing at his stomach. Burning. Burning. Burning.

The forest was ablaze. That was all he could possibly know, here in the dark. Shadows drove past him in a stampede of bodies carving through the night, survived only by a name and footprints worn into the poaching grounds.

He scares awake. Stars wink faintly above him, hidden behind the morning sun.

“Bad dream?”

Tupelo’s voice startles him a second time from where he lay, their trek up the hill all but forgotten until that point.

Vestiel slowly drags himself into a sitting position with a grunt of effort. Sweat collects at his jaw, cold against his cheeks. He licks his lips and tastes salt.

“A fire, just to the north of here-- tonight maybe--the forest, the people-”

Tupelo tends to the campfire, looking drained. It was suddenly apparent neither of them had slept well. “The forest?” they ask with a shake of their head, “Not to the north, yet.”

“Yet?”

Vestiel draws his shirt away and uses the

bottom corner to dry his face. Goosebumps still clinging to his arms, the memory remaining like a fresh wound.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he says, “I can’t explain it to you and if I do, you’ll just think I’ve gone strange. I’m only asking that you take me north of here.”

He reaches for the map tucked inside his rucksack, spilling a few more items in the process, “It shouldn’t be too far off from where we’re going already. I’ll show you.”

Tupelo is quick to rest their hand against his wrist with a sympathetic, albeit calm look on their face. “We’ll go.” They assure him, pointing to the north. “If it’s important.”

_________________________________

It quickly becomes evident that Tupelo is just as ill-equipped for this kind of travel as Vestiel. For as nimble as they are the hill obviously called for a different kind of strength. The original path would have taken them up and around, but this new direction was a straight shot to the north, uphill for the better half of it.

Tupelo watches Vestiel out of the corner of their eye, checking up on him every now and then as though waiting for Vestiel to change his mind, or hoping he’ll get around to it if they climb for long enough.

However, Vestiel remains steadfast in the endeavor, eyes locked on the horizon. He’s certain of what he saw, having learned to trust the dreams long ago, and he had no plans to stop now. The smell of burning flesh still lingered undeniably.

“We’re almost there.” Tupelo breaks the silence.

“Finally,” he gasps, “I don’t think my legs can go on for much longer.”

He can feel it already. The weight of the earth shifting beneath his feet, a familiar pressure that seeps into his bones, pungent smoldering inside his nostrils once more. “It’s right over here,” he drags himself the last few feet to the summit, “It’s-”

Dead. Every tree, every blade of grass, the entire opposite face of the hill lie dusty and black, an empty expanse of burnt trunks where the forest should have been.

Tupelo comes up beside him.

“What happened here?” Vestiel gasps in disbelief, “I was sure-- my dreams have never lied, not once before. Were we too late?”

“Your soul tells stories, not prophecies.” Tupelo answers, “Father told me you can hear them.”

“Them?”

“The spirits,” they gesture to the barren woods, “they speak because they know you will listen. Come.”

Vestiel follows their lead. Dry grass crunches underfoot as they descend the hill. Patches of green pop up here and there, but aren't constant and don’t compare to the full weight of the forest that should have been in its stead. It’s a sight he feels the need to grieve over as though his own soul were tied to the scorched land. The thought scares him.

Tupelo steps ahead and crouches to their knees, hands smoothing over a ring of stones that would have gone unseen had they not brought attention to it. Wordlessly, they pull the canteen from its strap and let the remainder of its water drip out.

Vestiel inches closer now. He kneels beside the other, “What is it?”

Tupelo sits back on their heels, palms opening to show a young sapling, green and healthy, standing tall, small as it may be. It rests in a forgotten graveyard.

“A tree?” Vestiel reaches for it and thumbs carefully along the juvenile bark. “What is one tree to an empty field?”

Tupelo cradles the sapling fondly. “Hope.”

_________________________________

I'm tagging @faenova @squid-scribe @zmlorenz @ashen-crest @henrike-does-writing-sometimes and @sharraus (can I tag the tagger? I'm doing it anyway)

Your words are Drenched, Gather, Cradle, and Howl

#finch writes #tHO #vestiel #andi #capri #tupelo #haise #dove #tag game

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years

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Important Information

Rules:

I am a minor. As such, smut can not be requested and can not be written. As a compromise, smutty themes can be used as overtones or undertones, often vaguely or simply eluded to. But pure smut? Not for a few months, which is when I’ll be 18. Sorry horndogs.

Please request through the submission inbox, or my direct messages. Further more, be polite. Be clear. If I ask a question to clear something up, answer it. Don’t let it dangle. I will always ask if there’s anything else you so desire (a word count, any details) so please tell me if there’s nothing else or if there is. English is also not my first language.

Do not request something against canon. I have written like that before and did not enjoy that. This means if something is considered canon, say Star Wars, such as a line of dialogue or something shown on screen, I would refuse to write you into it. I feel that it distorts the fiction so much you wouldn’t really be in it, and the characters wouldn’t be themselves anymore. Allow me to write you into the world as a side character, as something not shown directly but something that could fit into canon.

Some fictional characters have different versions of them. For example, Movie Anakin Skywalker, and the Clone Wars Anakin Skywalker. Ben Affleck Batman, or Christian Bale Batman? Or even, Comic Accurate Batman? Specify for me. If not specified after asking for it, I will write the character with headcanon information pulled from multiple ‘canon’ sources. This will be referred to as ‘headcanoned canon’.

Reblog my stuff? Absolutely. I see all my reblogs. But take it an post it to a different site? No. Don’t do that. Maybe I’ll spread over to Ao3 one day, but for now, please don’t.

Last one I can think of for now. But luckily this can be updated over time. I don’t write drabbles. I know! But just imagine all the times you’ve read a fic so good, only for it to end so soon. I like the thought of writing something both high quality and high quantity, which means I won’t be satisfied with anything under 2,000 words. Unfortunately, this may sometimes come at the expense of time. Especially if what you requested doesn’t fit into my current hyperfixation.

List of Characters I’ve Written, or Am Open to Writing:

Aayla Secura, Star Wars (Clone Wars)

Ahsoka Tano, Star Wars (Clone Wars and Live Action)

Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars (Clone Wars and Live Action)

Asaaj Ventress, Star Wars (Clone Wars and Books)

Boba Fett, Star Wars (Live Action Original Movies and The Mandalorian)

Bodhi Rook, Star Wars (Rogue One)

Bo-Katan Kryze, Star Wars (Clone Wars and The Mandalorian)

Cal Kestis, Star Wars (Jedi: Fallen Order, Beginning and End of Game)

Cassian Andor, Star Wars (Rogue One)

Darth Maul, Star Wars (Clone Wars)

Din Djarin, Star Wars (The Mandalorian)

Finn, Star Wars (Live Action Sequel Trilogy)

Jyn Erso, Star Wars (Rogue One)

Leia Skywalker, Star Wars (Live Action Original Movies)

Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, Star Wars (Clone Wars and Live Action)

Padme Amidala, Star Wars (Clone Wars and Live Action)

Poe Dameron, Star Wars (Live Action Sequel Trilogy)

Rey, Star Wars (Live Action Sequel Trilogy)

Rex, Star Wars (Clone Wars)

.✫*ﾟ��ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Batman, DC Comics (All Live Action, All Comic, Arkhamverse, All Animated, Headcanoned Canon)

Bane, DC Comics (Games)

Barry Allen/The Flash, DC Comics (All Live Action, Headcanoned Canon)

Black Canary, DC Comics (Birds of Prey Live Action Movie)

Bruce Wayne, DC Comics (All Live Action, Headcanoned Canon)

Catwoman/Selina Kyle, DC Comics (Headcanoned Canon)

Christopher Smith/Peacemaker, DCEU (All Live Action, Headcanoned Canon)

Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher 2, DCEU (Live Action)

Conner Kent/Superboy, DC Comics (Titans, All Animated)

Damian Wayne, DC Comics (Animated and Injustice)

Dick Grayson, DC Comics (Titans, All Comic, Arkhamverse, All Animated, All Versions)

Harley Quinn, DC Comics (All Live Action, All Comic, Arkhamverse, All Animated Versions)

Jason Todd/Red Hood, DC Comics (Headcanoned Canon, Arkhamverse, All Animated, Titans, All Versions)

Katana, DC Comics (2016 Suicide Squad Live Action Movie)

Poison Ivy, DC Comics (Arkhamverse, All Comic, All Animated, Headcanoned Canon)

Tim Drake/Red Robin, DC Comics (Arkhamverse, All Comic, All Animated, Headcanoned Canon)

Raven, DC Comics (Headcanoned Canon, All Animated, All Comics, All Titans)

Robert Dubois/Bloodsport, DC Comics (DCEU Live Action)

Scarecrow/Johnathon Crane, DC Comics(All Live Action, Arkhamverse, Headcanoned Canon)

Starfire/Koriand’r, DC Comics (Titans, All Comics, All Animated, Headcanoned Canon)

Superman/Clark Kent, DC Comics (Cavill’s Live Action, All Animated, All Comics)

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Annie Leonhardt, Shingeki no Kyojin (Marley Resident, Season 1-3, Season 4, Titan Form)

Bertholdt Hoover, Shingeki no Kyojin (Marley Resident, Season 1-3)

Carla Jaeger, Shingeki no Kyojin (Pre Beginning)

Eren Jaeger, Shingeki no Kyojin (Season 1-3, Season 4, Titan Form)

Hanji Zoe, Shingeki no Kyojin (All Seasons and OVA)

Jean Kirchstein, Shingeki no Kyojin (Season 1-3, Season 4)

Levi Ackerman, Shingeki no Kyojin (All Seasons and OVA)

Marco Bodt, Shingeki no Kyojin (Season 1)

Mikasa Ackerman, Shingeki no Kyojin (Season 1-3, Season 4)

Moblit Berner, Shingeki no Kyojin (All Seasons and OVA)

Sasha Braus, Shingeki no Kyojin (Season 1-3, Season 4)

L Lawliet, Death Note (Season 1)

Ryuk, Death Note (Season 1)

Touta Matsuda, Death Note (Season 1)

Raye Penber and Naomi Matsura (Season 1, Pre Beginning, Throuple Headcanon Canoned)

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Connor RK800, Detroit: Become Human (Deviant, Android, Mid and Post Game)

Chloe RT600, Detroit: Become Human (Deviant, Android, Pre, Mid, and Post Game)

Gavin Reed, Detroit: Become Human (Mid and Post Game)

Kara AX400, Detroit: Become Human (Post Game)

Luther TR400, Detroit: Become Human (Pre and Post Game)

Markus RK200, Detroit: Become Human (Pre, Mid, and Post Game)

Nines RK900, Detroit: Become Human (Post Game)

North WR400, Detroit: Become Human (Pre, Mid, and Post Game)

Other Worlds and Fandoms Coming Soon.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

What You Can Expect From Me:

Fanfiction

Headcanons- While I’d consider all of my fanfiction headcanons, I’m referring to those little bullet point things you’ll see writers do. Here’s my deal on that. I won’t do romantic headcanons for the characters listed above. By that I mean you won’t see anything titled, “How Poe Dameron Would Cuddle”, or anything of that sort. But you probably will see just my own little headcanons for fun. Like, little fun facts. You know, “Superman’s favorite food is ____”, “Nines hates rats”.

However, I will write romantic headcanons for my OC’s. But that’s for later.

Further regarding fanfiction, I typically write angst. Not sure why, it’s just what I started with because I thought the plots were strongest and I wanted to see where I could take it. Like I said, no smut, but you’ll find allusions to it. Fluff? Yeah, it’s there. Hard for me to write fluff without a plot, but it does exist on my page.

Original Stories

Most people ignore this, but if you see that I’ve posted it won’t always be something regarding your favorite character. I write my own little stories that’s basically just glorified, book length headcanons for a few worlds, but mostly the Star Wars galaxy. Don’t worry, there’s no need to pay attention to it if you don’t want. It’s something I do in my spare time besides x readers and oneshots.

Spontaneous Posting

What I mean by this, is that unlike a lot of writers, I don’t work on a schedule. There’s no “once a week posting”, or anything like that. What I finish and give the okay to, is posted. If you’ve requested something, I’ll let you know that it’s about to go out. So sometimes a burst of fics may be pumped out in a week, or none will for up to a month.

Going by EST, I typically am most active at night and early morning. Especially in the summer. During fall this may change.

I rarely put out a post that is unrelated to my writings. If it is related to my personal life instead, it will be posted, but not saved. Documented and available, but never pinned or anything.

FAQ:

Do you write queer pairings?

Yes. My earlier works usually elude to a female reader and it’s blaringly obvious, though it’s shifting into androgyny for ease of reader. I would prefer to have an androgynous reader instead of a set in stone male or female one.

Am I reading a queer fanfic written by a straight person?

You are not. I am androgynous myself in terms of gender and unlabeled in terms of sexuality.

Do you write for poc?

This question shocks me, though I’ve gotten it twice. Then I realized- it’s because so many writers forget the point of a reader. The reader may be described as blonde, or white, or thin, or female. You will not find that here. There will be no set in stone appearance for the reader except for mentions of whatever hair you may possess (apologies to those without hair). There will be no talk of ‘light skin’, or ‘curvy figure’. The farthest I’ll go is describing you as pale, if say, you were sick. Because any race or skin tone can go pale, you know? The only thing I’d do- rarely- is give you a real age. But only to further the plot if needed.

My point is, ‘Y/N’ is not just a pretty white person with long hair. It’s inclusive to anyone. I’ll stand by that.

Do you write headcanons?

Answered in the above section. Long story short, I’m working on it, but on my terms.

Do you write song fics?

I haven’t before. Why? They make me cringe. I don’t know why. I’ll write a fic based on a song, or with undertones of a song. But those little paragraphs with the lyrics that aren’t even in time with what you’re reading if you were to read and listen at the same time? I don’t think so.

Do you know what sex is?

I do.

Will you have e-sex with me in the direct message chatbox?

I will not.

Why do you write on tumblr?

I started writing just to share an old word document with over 300 pages worth of an Original Star Wars story. I tried my hand at fanfiction because, while I don’t read it often myself, I know a lot of people do. It helps them escape reality. And, I’m a pretty good writer, I think. At least I can only get better. I’m just one more person trying to put something out for people to enjoy, and maybe even rely on.

Will you ever write for real people?

If I ever wrote a fanfiction about Christian Bale or like Barack Obama I think I would just disappear. I can’t do it. It’s like warping my own reality.

How often do you post?

I don’t know.

Do you have a taglist?

I did! But only for Star Wars. If you want to be tagged in something, let me know. But you have to be specific. Just for a certain character? For a certain fandom? A certain plot? Just og stories? Be clear.

Dynamics I Enjoy Writing:

Man simps for person who almost wants nothing to do with them.

Hero simps for villain or villain simps for hero despite the obvious consequences.

Two jokesters destroy some area while left alone together. May get along better than they would admit.

Two people who are not expected to get along, get along well.

Hero and villain are best friends but won’t admit it.

Basically if I’m left to my own mind most of my fics will fall under one of these dynamics. Not always- definitely not always. But I kinda like them.

Numbers:

800-273-8255 USA National Suicide Hotline

1 (300) 22 4636 Australia Suicide and Anxiety Line

1 (833) 456 4566 Canada Suicide Hotline

800-810-1117 China Suicide Hotline

0145394000 France Suicide Hotline

08001810771 Germany Suicide Hotline

8888817666 India Suicide Hotline

810352869090 Japan Suicide Hotline

0078202577577 Russia Suicide Hotline

08457909090 UK Suicide Hotline

4408457909090 Ireland Emergency Hotline

1-800-656-4673 US National Sexual Assault Hotline

741-741 National Panic Hotline (for people who prefer to text)

Anything else?

Nope. Can’t think of anything. We’ll see if anything changes. Thanks for checking it out.

Header Credits to: @moonknights

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

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Day 7 of XichenWeek is here, and I’m back with more XiCheng. Continuation of my Day 2 fic which you can find here.

Day 7 was a free day.

CW for Inferred (consensual) choking, jealousy, possessive behaviour.

My Soulmate’s Regret Part 2

The city had switched from it’s daytime business persona to it’s night-time glitz and glamour by the time Jiang Cheng managed to get out of the station. It had been an endless day of questions, reports, offers for protection, and Wei Wuxian being a ridiculously overprotective gege.

You really wouldn’t think he was a fully grown adult male, in charge of his own team of officers in the organised crime department, with how much Wei Wuxian clucked over him sometimes.

He rammed his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket and set off down the street in search of the nearest alcohol he could find for sale. He really needed a drink tonight.

He almost snarled as he saw the dark-coloured luxury car pulling up to the curb just in front of him, cursing mentally.

Either of the two possibilities it presented were unwelcome, and he slipped his hand under his jacket to rest on the butt of his police issue weapon as he drew closer.

He figured as the doors didn’t open it was the lesser of the unwelcome possibilities and relaxed his grip.

The window lowered as he drew level and he bent to peer in; as expected it was Lan Xichen, who gestured him into the car.

“Get in, loser” he called, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. He glanced either way down the street to make sure no one he knew would see him climb in, before he opened the door and slid in next to his husband.

“Don’t try to meme at me, Xichen, it just makes you look like an old man trying to get down with the kids” he snapped.

Lan Xichen smiled, all gleaming white teeth and alpha predator, and it had the dual effect of making Jiang Cheng’s spine itch, and his fingers curl; he was never sure which feeling would win at any given time in Lan Xichen’s presence, but it always left him feeling vulnerable and unsure of himself.

He had never really believed in the literary vehicle of loving and hating a person in equal measures, until the day he had discovered the protective, caring man he had married, the other half of his soul, was one of those Lans.

The Lans who controlled nearly half of the criminal undertakings of the city.

Sometimes he wondered if Lan Xichen had ever had an exit strategy for the secrets he’d kept. Had he genuinely expected to be able to keep Jiang Cheng in the dark forever, or had he just hoped that by the time Jiang Cheng found out he just wouldn’t care enough to leave?

Whatever Lan Xichen’s endgame plan had been it wasn’t the same as Jiang Cheng’s, and now here they were stuck in this odd limbo, still married because Lan Xichen refused to agree to a divorce, citing they didn’t meet any of the grounds for such under the law, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t reasonably swear separation based on incompatibility when he was so weak as to fall into bed with the other every time he tossed Jiang Cheng a come hither look.

That was a place Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng had never had a problem; their bodies literally had been made for each other; two halves of the same soul. The only time there had been disagreement between them in the sexual side of their relationship had been when Jiang Cheng had first tentatively expressed his interest in breath play. Initially Lan Xichen had turned him down flat; it was far too dangerous and he wasn’t willing to put his husband at risk. And even that hadn’t been disagreement, Jiang Cheng had asked, Lan Xichen had demurred, Jiang Cheng had assumed that was the end of the issue.

Lan Xichen had finally agreed when he had had time to research the subject extensively, and he was one hundred percent certain he would be able to ensure Jiang Cheng’s safety.

Honestly, he was the ideal sexual partner, considerate, giving, responsible, and incredibly skilled, it was just a shame about that whole mafia don thing.

The knowledge of how perfect his life could have been if only his soulmate wasn’t a massive fucking criminal sometimes enraged Jiang Cheng, and of course all that anger was directed at Lan Xichen.

“Can we tie up whatever bullshit you want to talk to me about quickly, please? I’ve been dragged over the coals by superiors all day about this kidnapping crap, and Wei Wuxian won’t stop following me around like a mother hen, please thank your brother for that pleasure for me, by the way. Now I just want to slip into an alcoholic haze”

“Alright” Lan Xichen agreed and pulled away from the curb.

“On my own” Jiang Cheng corrected, not that Lan Xichen ever listened to what he didn’t want to hear.

“When are you going to take this kidnapping by the Wens seriously, A-Cheng?” Lan Xichen asked instead, a layer of irritation in his voice that hadn’t been there before Jiang Cheng had acted so blasé about yesterday’s events. “What would have happened if my men hadn’t gotten to you when they did?”

Jiang Cheng really didn’t know. Not in detail of course; one never could tell when it came to the two crazy Wen sons. Wen Ruohan was a quantifiable entity, he was careful and considered, old school, some might say; his loose canon sons were a different matter though. They could have intended a warning; or they could have wanted to drop him in Hangzhou Bay with a pair of concrete shoes and damn the consequences.

But it was the job he was in; if he was doing it well then crime bosses got pissed off at him, and if he showed fear, if he was scared at everything that might happen, he wouldn’t be able to function in his job.

“Thank your men for saving me Xichen, but you know as well as I do what the dangers of this job are, on both sides of the law”

Lan Xichen reached across to grab Jiang Cheng’s thigh, his fingers digging deep into lean muscles through dark denim.

“I should just take you home and lock you up for your own safety” he growled; his grip eased and Jiang Cheng pushed his hand away.

“I’d hate you forever” he said simply, and they both knew that it was the truth.

“And that would be different to how you already feel how?” the bleakness in his tone was hard to hear, but Jiang Cheng had to harden his heart to it. It would be oh so easy to just stop fighting, and give this man, his husband, everything he wanted. But Jiang Cheng was terrified that if he did he’d lose everything about himself that mattered.

They pulled up outside the doors of a trendy bar, one of the many legitimate fronts of the Lan criminal enterprises. This was a place the glitterati of Shanghai came to be seen.

Jiang Cheng jumped out of the car and left Lan Xichen to deal with it.

Of course he walked right up to the door and was let through with a respectful “Jiang-xiansheng” by the doormen, Lan Xichen ran a very tight ship. There probably wasn’t an employee in his empire that didn’t know who Jiang Cheng was, and what would happen if he was shown the slightest disrespect.

He must have been made aware of the imminent arrival of the boss because the manager met him just inside, “Jiang-xiansheng, we have the usual room available, please follow me”

He was settled on the comfortable couch in the private room reserved only for the Lan family and their invited guests when Lan Xichen joined him. He had ordered a bottle of the club’s most expensive whiskey, because he was serious about that drink tonight, and Lan Xichen owed him for ruining his intended solitary evening of drinking.

“Why do you even own bars when your family doesn’t drink?” he pondered aloud after the tea service and his bottle of whiskey had been delivered and they were left alone again. The Lans had a genetic intolerance for alcohol, and thus they steered well clear of it.

“I can benefit from the revenue without having to partake of the wares” he murmured, pouring tea.

Jiang Cheng was halfway down his second glass of the sharp, amber liquid already.

Lan Xichen scolded him, “It won’t go off, A-Cheng, in fact the process is quite the opposite”

“I told you I intended to drink seriously. It’s not my fault you interfered” Jiang Cheng shrugged, “And for what purpose? You still haven’t told me what you want”

“You know what I want, A-Cheng” Lan Xichen placed his cup back on the table, and moved a little closer, reaching up to gently unwind the scarf from around Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“I’m not on the table, I mean what did you want with me tonight?” his throat suddenly became very dry, and he was lucky to keep the thread of his thoughts enough to make sense.

“I came to check on my husband” Lan Xichen’s voice had sunk to a low, husky register, as the last wind of scarf was removed.

The touch of air against skin he had kept covered all day made Jiang Cheng shudder involuntarily, but it was nothing to the tremor that wracked his spine at the gentle touch of Lan Xichen’s thumb against the pale skin at the hollow of his throat, as the other stroked gently beneath the darkened bruises around Jiang Cheng’s neck. His breath hitched.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t take his eyes away from the others, but Lan Xichen looked down at those discolourations with a carefully neutral expression.

Jiang Cheng knew Lan Xichen disliked it, hated to see him marked like this, the only reason he allowed it was because Jiang Cheng did like it, so very much.

Lan Xichen’s eyes raised then and their gazes meshed. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s tender, nothing more. It’s fine. It’s really fine, Xichen” his voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he swallowed again.

Xichen drifted closer, and Jiang Cheng intended to push him away, except somehow he ended up clinging to a fistful of the other’s shirt. He closed his eyes, not sure whether it was in anticipation, or just to block out the evidence of his own weakness.

Then the moment was broken as Jiang Cheng’s mobile phone blasted out into the otherwise silence of the soundproofed room, where not even the beat from the music in the bar could be heard.

It was like salvation. He scooted away quickly, fishing in his pocket for the phone.

It was Nie Huaisang, a mutual friend of both he and Wei Wuxian, who called him to berate him for not being in the bar where he had said he intended to drink.

Jiang Cheng could only apologise, and soothe his ruffled feathers, claiming his plans had had to change at the last moment. Which was entirely the truth, except the change hadn’t been his choice.

He promised to arrange a proper night out, with both Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian, when they could next all fit it in their diary, then he hung up.

To a darkly ominous look on Lan Xichen’s face.

“Don’t you dare, don’t be insane. Nie Huaisang is a friend” he snapped, but it didn’t dissipate any of the look. “Xichen are you listening to me?” he moved closer again, to squeeze the other’s arm urgently.

“I am” Lan Xichen took the opportunity to catch Jiang Cheng’s jaw in a gentle hand. “I know” his dark amber eyes looking into Jiang Cheng’s, his gaze intense, but for different reasons now. “I know you wouldn’t be with someone else” he stroked a soft thumb against Jiang Cheng’s cheek, “because you know I’d kill them for daring to touch you”

Yes, he was more than aware of Lan Xichen’s insanely possessive jealousy. He had always found that rather unfair, though.

“Surely it should be me you should kill, I’d be the one at fault” not that he wanted to be, of course, this was all theoreticals, if he ever did, he was the party who understood the implications, therefore he should be the one to bear all the risk.

“If I did, A-Cheng, I’d kill us both” that gently stroking thumb brushed across his lower lip softly, before the other pulled away, just in time to hear a knock at the door.

Another divine intervention. Jiang Cheng pulled himself back into some semblance of order, replaced his scarf, and reclaimed his whiskey glass.

They were joined by Lan Wangji, Xichen’s younger brother, here to calmly report that they were shortly to be joined by Wen Ruohan, who had requested a meeting with the Lans.

***

Everything became business then, and Jiang Cheng was almost forgotten in his corner of the couch with his bottle of malt, which he continued to work his way steadily down.

It turned out Wen Ruohan came to, on the face of it, apologise to Lan Xichen for putting him to such trouble to have to rescue his husband. And to offer his hope that Jiang Cheng hadn’t been injured in his ordeal. In fact he hardly seemed surprised to find the two of them together, despite full knowledge of their estrangement, and Jiang Cheng’s job.

He told Lan Xichen that Wen Xu and his accomplices had been punished by the clan for acting without authority to do so.

It was all friendly and amiable, smiling and drinking and compliments between the two. Lan Xichen could play at politics as insincerely as the next man when he was required to.

After some time genially partaking of the Lan’s hospitality, Wen Ruohan excused himself, and the two Lan’s exchanged a look.

“They’re planning something” Jiang Cheng said flatly, nursing his glass, “He just isn’t quite ready to act yet. He needs to keep you sweet for now”

“Quite” Lan Xichen agreed. He rose to his feet, “Wangji, could I trouble you to see A-Cheng to his apartment on your way home tonight?”

“I’m not a parcel, I don’t need delivering, I can get home on my own” Jiang Cheng protested, then reached for the half-empty bottle on the table, “And I’m taking this with me” he added.

“Give Shufu my regards, Xiongzhang, I’ll see A-Cheng home now” which meant Lan Xichen intended to discuss matters with Lan Qiren immediately. A part of Jiang Cheng was relieved Lan Xichen took the possible threat of the Wens unknown plot seriously enough to plan to deal with it. Another part was aggravated at the usual Lan arrogance.

“Why do neither of you ever listen to me?” Jiang Cheng demanded; he’d complain that it was a hateful Lan trait, but Wei Wuxian never listened to him either.

He was silenced by the simple act of Lan Xichen kissing his forehead softly, “Don’t drink more tonight, A-Cheng, I’m told reliably that it will still taste as good at a later date. I’ll be in touch very shortly”

After the soft kiss, he didn’t have it in him to spoil the gesture with the sarcastic retort that had leapt to his lips, so he swallowed it back down and let the moment pass.

#XichenWeek2020 #XiCheng #Soulmate AU #Organised Crime AU #Lan Xichen #Jiang Cheng #Possessive Behaviour #Jealousy #complicated relationship #Choking #mdzs fanfic #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #Shay's stuff

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rooneywritesbest · 5 years

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All It Takes Is One Bad Day

Have you ever really wondered who is the joker? I mean actually who he really is, or what made him into the clown prince of crime. Join me on a trip descending into the psychological observation of the deep dive of the subconscious of the comic-book villain. The only origin we have recorded of the Joker is in the novel “The Killing Joke” by Alan Moore. Moore paints and illustrates a period piece of the underbelly of Gotham City. The timeline is a little fuzzy. However, the artwork of Brian Bolland and the tone and direction of writing from Moore brings the graphic novel to life.

The clown was just a normal person trying to get by, struggling to pay bills, and living in a run-down apartment. Interesting enough, he was never given a name in the novel. Joker had a wife pregnant with his child. The emotion was painted on the panels, and he was terrified internally. So to alleviate the pain dragging down his well being. He soon made a choice that would affect his life by turning to the mob. The man was tasked with being the fall guy, he was also given a new code name or alias “Red Hood”.

Then you know the history that follows. Batman chases him and Joker falls into the vat of acid at ace chemicals. The chemical bath changes his mind and personality. Peeling away back at the persona that was once present. Now all that is left of the poor tortured soul. Being plagued by society is a man with pale white skin and the affinity to bring laughter in horrific fashion. The question to bring forth into context. Does he truly have any sliver of memory before undergoing his cosmetic change?

The answer is a tricky one to understand the mindset of the Joker, you have to understand the other incarnations of the character. In the animated series where the clown is brought to life by Mark Hamil. He seduces the mind of Dr. Harleen Quinzel. He makes us a fabricated backstory of him and his father going to the circus. However, he also brings to the forefront that he grew up in an abusive household. The new foreground truth is quickly dismissed as false facts. When Batman tells Harley that Joker has a million stories. Just furthering exploring the identity crisis hiding beneath the pale skin of a clown clad in a purple tuxedo with a top hat to match.

In addition to the critically acclaimed BTAS. The Arkham-verse from rocksteady stands on its own feet. However, being told time and time again that it’s a separate canon from the cartoon. Many would coin it as a continuation of the animated series due to the inclusion of the original remaining cast voicing the iconic roles that put them on the map. Kevin Conroy as the caped crusader, and Hamil as the Joker even bringing back the talented Arleen Sorkin as Harley Quinn. In the darker, grittier version of Gotham City. Being a world that is woven together by the seeds of Arkham spanning a timeline of Arkham origins all the way to the night the batman died on Arkham Knight. The games touch on certain Joker heavy moments and thematic events leading the clown down the path to where he’s meant to be. While also committing roles of unspeakable action such as showcasing the events of Killing Joke and crippling batgirl or referencing the comic “the death in the family leading to the execution of Jason Todd. It just goes to show that the Joker is just a person who wants to see the world burn. A great point made by buddy Joe is that “The Joker represents many things and it is the filmmaker/comic writer's responsibility to depict the character in a way that never idolizes what he stands for”.(Joseph Torres).

It boils down to the justification that every incarnation or vision of the Joker is different in almost every aspect. It could change from the tone or sense of realistic nature or being a social commentary brought to the light in the comics being allegory’s into the mind of the writer stepping into the shoes of the Clown Prince Of Crime.

However, a name would complete the tragedy and give something the audience to sympathize with. Something that the Todd Philips darker realistic take of the Joker actually does. It stars Joaquin Phoenix as Arthur Fleck. A man drove to insanity by the corrupt and evil society around him. The film is a blend of color tones and wonderfully crafted shots that incorporate no CGI. Weighing down the background and giving it a fake or faux sense of the movie.

Witnessing The joker trailer. I found it seems intriguing in many ways. I love the laugh. Phoenix is terrifying, um the just stunning visuals with an interesting concept two trailers in and still no idea or concept or even major spoilers have been shown. The only sense of context I can piece together is that it’s a period piece like the killing joke. Also, the mention of social commentary on those affected and plagued by mental illness could be brought to the forefront. The director Todd Philips has a really neat quote that follows “I don’t believe that in the real world if you fell into a vat of acid you would turn white and have a smile and your hair would be green. So you start backward-engineering these things and it becomes really interesting”(Todd Philips). The acting is phenomenal and oscar level. Another thing I like about this film is that Phoenix feels like a combination of major versions of the character. For example, his laugh has hints and moments of Mark Hamil. Or the color scheme of his outfit feels reminiscent of Cesar Romero from Batman 66, and the outfit along with the makeup pays homage to Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight. Also, the story is taking elements from the killing joke.

Just one gripe, how can you make a joker movie work without his moral juxtaposition of the dark knight. The Joker needs Batman to thrive it’s like Heath ledger said: “anarchy needs order.” Essentially meaning Batman needs Joker and vice versa. We will see how Phoenix does when the film opens up worldwide Oct 4th.

In conclusion, The Joker is the most important villain in all of the literature. Just something about him resonates with the reader and fans alike. Every version of the character will be different because it just depends on the vision and direction of the narrative. Which is the director or writer’s job to cement themselves into the mindset of The Clown Prince of Crime or better known as the Joker? Thus explaining the perfect reason why the Joker’s real name should never be revealed.

Due to the role of human psychology. How anybody could be Spider-Man and wear the mask. Well anyone could be the Joker cause all it takes is one bad day to descend into the madness that awaits.

#batman #joker #DC comics #joaquin phoenix #joker movie #DC Universe #dceu #dcau #arkhamverse #arkham #batman arkham series #arkham city #assault on arkham #harley quinn #robert deniro #the killing joke

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umikichi7 · 6 years

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The City that Never Sleeps

Summary: New York. Where they continue to enjoy themselves as tourists and where μ's agrees to prepare themselves for the last time. That night becomes never-ending as Kotori can't help but have her mind turn to days gone by.

Pairing: Kotoumi

Tags: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, hotel room chats

Word Count: 3820

A/N: listen Future Style at the end of the episode, I hope you enjoy it!

AO3 || ff.net

Torture. One would call an endless punishment by means of what Umi had been doing to Kotori at midnight.

Kotori slouched in the bed and paid languid attention to Umi’s face with half-open eyelids. She rested her chin in her palm. She had been patient, but playing with a straight face during their old maid was getting harder. Umi pinched the bridge of nose, thinking thoroughly a way to win and Kotori looked up through Umi’s eyelashes.

For Kotori, Umi was just being cute by showing her weak side. Kotori couldn't help but accept another round. And then another one and another… It was already 36 rounds? No problem at all.

As long as Sonoda Umi had determination to win, she wouldn’t accept an utter defeat. Unluckily, or rather giving too much opportunity for Kotori to win, the things had been on the other way around.

Kotori’s quite whines went through Umi’s ears, channeling her weariness to Umi. At the very end, Umi would finally understand this game would never end so she stopped torturing her by the end of the last game. They plopped down on their beds and decided on sleeping right away.

As time went by, the restless night fell into a silence, allowing other voices to be heard but mostly Kotori’s.

“Umi-chan, did you sleep?” Kotori asked fitfully as she took a turn at Umi’s side. Judging by Umi’s distracted expression, she had been caught up in the full moon outside of the hotel. She never attempted to move a muscle to turn at the source of inaudible, strained voice.

“Not yet,” Umi replied clearly, completely oblivious to the part where Kotori hesitated.

Intrigued, Kotori scanned through her calm silhouette before she piped up. “Can I ask you something?” Her inquiring eyes shifted to Umi’s tired ambers. Content and relaxed, Kotori noted.

The moon light emanated through the curtains reflected on Umi’s silky blue hair and bronze skin, and Kotori took the visible, warm smile formed on her lips kindly to herself in turn.

Umi breathed out wholeheartedly. “Yes, of course,” she said without the sleep in her low-pitched voice, barely paying attention to what Kotori had asked.

Kotori stared at Umi’s face as she pulled the blanket on the level of her nose. For some reason moving her legs from right to left aimlessly was a new habit to her as if she couldn't manage to contain her inner turmoil.

Umi glanced down at the fidgeting sight that had captured her attention within seconds. Though, Kotori’s odd expression was mismatching her actions at that moment, Umi became all ears.

At a calm time like this, Kotori would question why she had chosen that path in her life. There was no end to stop questioning as to how to escape those ambiguous feelings within her. As if she should have made career plans before graduate from college, or have thought about settling in one place for the rest of her life with her family. However, those were not what she was dwelling on. Simply put, what had been occupying her head was the turning point when she accepted Honoka’s offer: become an idol and shine brightly.

Yet, was it only a regret that had left in her heart?

“Thankfully Honoka-chan formed the μ’s. You are not regretting to join in, are you?” She asked through uneasiness and dreadiness.

The slur in Kotori’s voice became obvious that slightly alarmed Umi. In Umi’s eyes, her impression of Kotori was quickly subverted by the muffled sound. Interestingly, Kotori’s question had never passed through her mind at all. Not even once. The unexpected question kept her gaze sweep by in a few minutes silence until she met Kotori’s intense stare.

She knew that as lonely and weak as Kotori was feeling right now, this was the time Umi should drop her inhibitions and ask what was going on with her. However, reaching someone through an emotional connection and straying from the logical aspect had never been in Umi’s book. In other words: empathy. In those conceptions, empathy, sympathy, or any less reliable or discernable, emotional connection she wasn’t the most interesting person to be acquainted with. Due to absence of empathy and understanding between the people, Umi always claimed to be very practical and, hence, she failed to see the importance of emotions and understand them. Basically she would tend to view her life pragmatically. Now, it became a quite problem for her so she should make up for with logic, and reliability at first.

“Why would I be?” Umi lifted her eyebrow, confused. She got off the blanket from herself and sat on her legs quickly, placing her fists upon her thighs. “Also, may I learn why you are asking me such a question?” Umi’s tone suggested great interest, but the expression on her face gave no clue as to why. Her voice plying between soft to firm, she was immersed in thought.

She couldn't decipher the reason behind the hoarse voice of Kotori. She was quite vague or rather atrocious about the underpinnings of what Kotori had intended to imply. She was still on thoughts, rubbing and tapping her chin.

In the moment when the street sounds had held its tongue, a solemn silence took over in the room. Kotori looked down with a distinctly dubious grimace. “Umi-chan… I'm asking because I knew you were nervous and half-hearted to give it a try at first. Honoka-chan’s crazy ideas dragged us at this point where....” she hesitated, sounding as distant as her eyes were. ‘’...we’re caged up by these feelings,’’ she muttered to herself.

Umi didn’t hear the last line, she waited an explanation. Her expression was a blend of concern and question. In response to Umi’s distress, Kotori took a deep breath as of then she found courage to speak her mind frankly.

‘’...Where it was called a never ending story . Now we are saying we have to disband while we were so connected and bond with each other at heart… don’t you think we’re taking things too fast? Sometimes I think if we had never joined, we wouldn’t have to reckon this feeling,’’ Kotori finally said the words that had been stuck in her throat since the beginning. Her inner thoughts poured out, yet her voice was fragile like a bird with a broken wing that was unable to float in air.

There was only a response left.

Kotori slid away from her as tears began to gather uncontrollably around the corner of her eyes.

“Umi-chan… d-don't you regret?” Kotori stammered, feeling guilt in her guts as she thought what would come next. It became more daunting when she couldn’t interpret Umi’s gestures nor her facial expression. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked the same question again?

The question itself was a dire news to Umi. Saddened by seeing her childhood friend’s doleful and downcast eyes that almost penetrated her own deep goldens, she was quiet with a mournful expression on her face.

Had she always been feeling like this way? The μ’s’s always cheerful girl Minami Kotori?

You wouldn’t know someone just by looking at their outer shell. There would be an inner conflict within people’s psychology or they could easily hide their true intentions in which Umi hadn’t seemed to comprehend, reckon and understand yet. It was around that time a bitter realisation dawned on Umi. Kotori’s erratic moods had grown more volatile the past couple of days, and Umi couldn’t have noticed her friend was feeling sad because μ’s decided to disband, and now she was trying to find a good reason to get back to her normal life.

Umi felt the pang in her heart, touching where her heart pumped against her chest rapidly. The pain had gotten worse as the realisation upon her became more perceivable and inevitable because she was sharing the same feelings with Kotori, yet Kotori was thinking wrong. The answer was not to question and fathom the trueness of the taken decision, it was standing upright by that of decision behind.

Umi was not unwilling to tolerate difference of opinion and narrow-minded about cherished opinions, so she thought she had to lean to the emotional commitment.

‘’You know Kotori, remember how we became friends? Our adventure has begun when Honoka reached out her hand to us. In that way, I could make close friends… important friends. Time went by and as I regained my strength and hope, the world around me gradually confined with sense of responsibility and that gave me motivation, it pushed me forward and I climbed out of the pit. The true motivation behind is not just my hardwork and dedication, but when I decided I wanted to broaden my horizons with an abrupt change.’’

Umi’s words brought her to the present.

Who she was.

Where she began to shine.

When she became someone who started to move forward to what she was running after.

She glanced up, homely warmth crawling up to her pale face as she recalled the adventurous memories Umi had brought back.

It was getting less and less awkward and anxious, and Kotori’s mood was getting fickle, never lasting too long. She started feeling delightful receiving support by Umi. She threw every fiber of her being into each words Umi was telling to her.

‘’When you don’t think through the consequences of your decisions, the results are bound to unfurl unexpectedly. This time, waiting of what the future might bring to us can be always going to give us ambivalent feelings people have never experienced before. This is what makes Honoka different from me, Kotori. Do you really believe you’ll remember the time we spent together as just the brief sadness at the end?’’

Flabbergasted, Kotori sat on the foot of Umi’s bed, tears were threatening to prickle through her eyes slowly. That seemed to stir something up within her, and it was distinctly shown on her intensifying gaze.

‘’I think I’ll be thinking about how happy I was able to join and meet everyone in μ’s. Singing together with my friends, and hearing the voices of everyone supporting us... At those moments, I also felt like I was capable of doing anything. Maybe some irksome event that had preceded our way left me perturbed at those moments, I could laugh along with everyone. This time was... is... will be our miraculous time even though we won’t have practice nor performance anymore, the memories will rest within our hearts. We did our best and jumped, covered in sweat. It's a stage forever bursting with smiles.’’

Kotori’s troubles and worries were diminished by Umi’s unyielding words, and they fell sharply as teardrops on Kotori’s red cheeks.

“Umi-chan…”

The sound of crying filled the small hotel room, the cry that might abolish the night...

Kotori has kept all this inside herself too long that it became a burden and she couldn’t hold back anymore. A faint feeling of uneasiness came over Umi, feeling remarkably sad by seeing her friend crying that much, the ache within her deepened at the pitiable sight. Umi wasn’t the best person to come in handy in this kind of circumstances, yet she couldn’t just bear staring at the despairing, dejected expression of her friend. So she came closer to her leniently and saw something in her eyes - something akin to relief.

After a moment of silence Kotori’s crying was appeased by the person she had needed by her side. The tiny droplets on her face were much visible in the luminescence come from outside, so Umi could wipe the dampness off her cheek with her sleeve. She wanted to place her hand onto Kotori’s shoulder for comfort, albeit Kotori’s low-pitched voice interrupted her in the halfway.

“Can I hug you?” Kotori asked enthusiastically, her voice was more stable now.

Kotori could hurry to her with arms outstretched for a hug, but Umi again wasn’t the best person to be good with physical intimacy, even more she would be startled once her body were about to touch other. In less than no time she was beaten by Kotori’s meaningful glance, and the warm smile tracing her lips. She accepted the friendly offer, minimizing the gap between them. Maybe Umi would reach her own limit, but she had to do this for her friend.

So, she simply nodded.

No matter what Kotori tried, she couldn’t move an inch. Perhaps crying in front of a friend was still embarrassing. This time, Umi took the first action to pull her toward herself by throwing her right arm on Kotori’s shoulder and put her chin on top of Kotori’s head.

‘’Everything is going to be alright…’’ she paused, scrutinising the expression of Kotori’s face attentively. ‘’If you cry again, I’d be very upset. Don’t forget even if we are going to separate our ways, our hearts will be always connected Kotori,’’ she continued, softly gazing at the yet-relaxed eyes.

Kotori sniffled. She was reminded of this special time that would never last, yet it was going to take shape in time. Her smile broadened with the sense of security Umi gave her. ‘’Umi-chan,’’ she uttered. Her hollow voice changed into gentler and much better tone.

“Kotori,” Umi called her name for once, this time she wanted to hug this little girl underneath.

Kotori tilted her head upwards to get a better view of Umi. Her hands gripped her back as tightly as she could manage to. “Umi-chan, I never knew you would be this huggable.’’ She beamed up at her. Hands drew even closer, closer enough to make Umi squirm just a tad.

The pink dusts acrossed Umi’s cheeks, it didn't take long time for her to draw back and start complaining. “Don't tease me please,” she sighed slightly. Her mouth curled up to a smile at Kotori without realising, she chuckled just a tad. “Feeling better now?”

Kotori gave a peck on her cheek, slightly giggling on the sting of her palm. “Way better hehe~” Eliciting a little gasp from unguarded Umi, Kotori appreciated the view with the glint in her eyes.

Umi frowned at the teasing, eyes narrowing. “Kotori, that's such a shameless behavior. You shouldn't do it to anyone as if it is such a trivial thing!” Her voice was firm as she replied.

Kotori’s suppressed giggles soon turned into outright laughter mingled in a merry sound, like the chirping of birds. “Yeah, I shouldn't but you are not anyone, you are Umi-chan and you are being cute right now.”

“C-cute?” Umi looked down meekly, quite embarrassed by the compliment since she never thought one someone such as herself would be called cute. Wait... She was wearing a pair of pyjamas for the Idol God’s sake, how could you call her cute!? ”W-what do you mean?” she asked as she lifted her eyebrow, seeking for an answer.

‘’Umi-chan, you are a perfect Yamato Nadeshiko model,’’ Kotori answered with faint amusement, obviously enjoying how flustered Umi was at the compliment. She stood by her side, leaning against her chest slowly.

Umi froze at the closeness, snapping her eyes down to follow her next moves. ‘’Stop teasing me please,’’ she said. In spite of her efforts to control her emotions her face tinged with red, hoping Kotori wouldn’t discover it yet.

‘’Umi-chan!!’’ Kotori took a hold of her hand, beaming, the dark thoughts of earlier banished.

“K-Kotori! When did you become such a tease?”

Kotori giggled, gently tightening her grip on Umi’s hand. “I think you can blame Nozomi-chan and the others for that.”

Umi sighed, like she already knew the answer to her question. “Of course it would be her. She’s so… shameless.”

Kotori chuckled again and sat on her bed, leading Umi by the hand to sit next to her. “Umi-chan, you’re so funny about things like that.”

Umi folded her arms. “O-Of course I am, I don’t want them to hurt you by making you too shameless.”

“Umi-chan saying things like that, if we weren’t friends I’d think that you were being a bit shameless yourself.” Kotori leant across to her, narrowing her eyes with a smirk spreading across her face.

The penny dropped and a violent blush erupted across Umi’s cheeks when she suddenly realised what she had said. “A-Ah Kotori! That’s um… I mean…” Umi floundered, she tried pressing her hand in front of her face to hide her blush, letting her voice grow quiet.

The awkwardness of the situation draped itself over the room, Umi glanced over at Kotori, noticing that she was blushing quite seriously.

She watched Kotori shift uncomfortably, and everything about the moment felt… wrong somehow. The air made her skin crawl, the space between her and Kotori felt off, at once both too close and too far. Her arms laid at her side motionless she didn’t know what she would normally be doing with them. She was sure that all this was as noticeable as the blush on her face, ‘Oh God what if Kotori notices how weird I’m being,’ she thought.

Kotori cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but no words followed. Umi watched with amusement while Kotori opened and closed her mouth a few times like a fish.

“Um.”

Both girls spoke haltingly at the same time. Looking startled at one another for a few moments, the awkwardness became so unbearable Umi couldn’t help but smile.

Kotori tried in vain to stifle a laugh, and Umi soon joined her.

The laughter burst forth, cutting through the tense atmosphere of the room.

Umi laughed even harder at Kotori’s attempts to stop laughing and regain a semblance of control.

The laughter died down gradually, both girls eventually chuckling to each other. The awkwardness of earlier now replaced by a calm atmosphere of contentment.

“You know Umi-chan…” Kotori paused.

Umi looked over to Kotori, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as if waiting something else from the gleaming eyes. “Yes?”

Kotori reached down to the drawer nearby. Umi watched what she was doing, she took out a notebook and pen. “The words you said to me,’’ she turned to Umi and handed them over her, ‘’they would be good lyrics for our next song,” she suggested and leant back to Umi again.

Despite how warm the touch against her skin seemed welcomed, Umi couldn’t approve yet. ‘’Kotori…’’ she murmured as she slid away from her slowly. ‘’You are too close.’’

Kotori hovered nearby resting her head on Umi’s shoulder sluggishly. ‘’I’m taking your advice and broaden my horizons, Umi-chan.’’

‘’K-Kotori!’’ Umi blushed at the mention of her own words come from her friend, glancing away. The slight hesitation in her voice didn't even tingle Kotori at all.

Kotori giggled briefly. ‘’I’m just glad to have you and Honoka-chan by my side,’’ Kotori said then smiled gliterlingly. It was a gentle smile that if Umi had been told this was what angels looked like, she would have believed it.

‘’You just don’t give up do you Kotori?’’ Umi sighed inwardly, smiling. ‘’It can’t be helped then.’’ Umi rested her head on Kotori’s hoping to just stay there, calmly.

Kotori chuckled softly, Umi supposed she was pleased with her victory over her own inhibitions. Umi rested there for a brief moment before jumped at the soft sensation of Kotori’s fingers ghosting over her forearm.

‘’Let’s write them together when we’re having a date in New York,’’ Kotori murmured.

Umi nodded nonchalantly to wrap up in the warmth of the moment to grasp the implications of what she had agreed to.

“Wait!” Umi sat bolt upright again, nearly throwing Kotori off the bed. Catching her gaze, and holding onto it and Umi then maintained prolonged eye contact. The words piled up in the back of her throat forming an uncomfortable lump. Umi swallowed trying to find the courage to push the word out until she was able to find a sufficient courage to speak again. ‘’D-Date?” she spluttered, putting down what Kotori had given her. “That’s quite a strong word you’re using there Kotori...”

‘’I’m tired Umi-chan! Take me on a date…’’ Kotori whined, faux-whimpering.

‘’Maybe-’’

Kotori smiled, perhaps smelling the crack in Umi’s armour.

‘’Please!’’

The whole world around Umi has brightened in a split second. Kotori using her trump card, it was so unfair. The effect seemed to rebound around the room resided in Umi’s head and clouded her mind. Her excuses for not answering were getting worse by the second her defences obviously broken, so Kotori pressed her advantage.

She pulled out her phone and started browsing the place names she had marked on the map. ‘’Where do you think we should go? Actually there is this cheesecake house I really do want to see. It’s three blocks away from here. I wanted to visit it earlier but Eli-chan said we shouldn’t separate.’’ Kotori pouted slightly.

‘’How about others? They would like to join us.’’

‘’Let’s keep it a secret and give them a wonderful song made by the two of us,’’ Kotori said, eyeing Umi with a sideways glance.

‘’That makes sense,’’ Umi nodded, her hand on her chin. ‘That’s weird. I guess Kotori would ask anyone if someone else were in my shoes.’ A part of her felt upset when she thought like that.

‘’You know Umi-chan it would make even more sense if you weren’t so stubborn every now and then. Sometimes there are things I would only do with you, you know.’’

Kotori held her hand, smiling at her. “All you need is to be a little less inhibited Umi-chan.”

Kotori began to hum a soothing tune, haltingly like she was making it up on the spot. The sound drew Umi in, and she could swear that she could hear lyrics to go with Kotori’s tune.

‘’Just a little bit of courage can be the trigger, ’’

It all felt so, natural, like Umi’s feelings were perfectly expressed by Kotori’s music, the words flowed out from her soul forming a picture before her, like a puzzle with all the pieces being put into their right places.

‘’What's really inside you is courage that makes you want to fly high,’’

Sometimes it took Umi ages to write even a line, but now whole verses formed instantly in her head, all thanks to her amazing friend and her gifts.

‘’If you let it out, you'll be able to see a larger stage next time.’’

Both girls chuckled, their eyes locked with each other. Umi took the notebook and pen where she had put before, and they started writing.

‘’Your voice... I can hear it!’’

Umi was already half done and she could finally understand better when Kotori made her voice heard.

‘’Kotori… We should definitely visit this place too,’’ Umi pointed to a Japanese style bookstore near Bryant Park. “It seems really interesting and we should both suggest places,” she paused, and coughed ‘’it’s our date after all.’’

#my fic #I enjoyed a lot writing this fic while listening future style #catch the lyrics!#love live #kotori minami #umi sonoda #kotoumi #myfic #mypost7

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