#Its a bit wonky but i love this piece a lot anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

timelesslords · 3 years

Note

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

#this is so cheesy and so long <3 #bon apple teeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth fic #pjo #annabeth chase #pjo fic #percabeth fanfic #i already have more prompts in my inbox than i will realistically every finish #so on a technical level i am not taking more #but if you send one and i like it i might write it anyway lmao #no guarantees though!!

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savagenutella46 · 3 years

Text

Standing Here With You

A valentine’s day gift for @thecaptainhelm lm. (By the way, I love you so much and you’re amazing) I hope YOU have an awesome eventful day filled with lots of love because you’re such an amazing writer and I love you!!!!!!

Also, @eat0crow , who is moderating the gift exchange! Thank you for all you’ve done!

Everyone has a soulmate.

It's not a notable deal. Though it's something many people cherish and look forward to, it's just as much an ordinary fact as primary color mixing: that's just how the world works.

Blue and yellow mix correspond with each other to produce green; soulmate A and soulmate B each have tattoos to correspond with one another, completing either tattoo on the skin of their other half.

Marinette will be damned if she finds anyone to match her tattoo. She'd loved it as a child, sitting through boring classes with a pout and jittery knees so she could rush home and admire the strange tattoo that covered the length of her inner forearm.

But now, she couldn't find a single thing to be more ashamed about.

Even as she moves halfway across the world from taunting bullies and mind-controlling sociopaths, the damage is done.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not want a soulmate.

She does not want to disappoint, to never live up to her soulmates expectations, because, "Your soulmate wouldn't like those pigtails, Marinette." and, "How could someone want a bully like you?"

Marinette does not want to relive her lycée experience, covering her mark every chance she could get so that Lila Rossi wouldn't antagonize whoever was on the other end of her soul line.

She’d watch as other people’s—normal—soul marks started to glow, indicating the one thing soulmarks are responsible for. Marinette witnessed on the sidelines as everyone she knew and had learned to love and lose found their other half, and left her in the dark. Watching, seeing, but never to experience what it was like. To find your soulmate.

Her mark. A white rose hanging upside down at the epiphysis of her radius, petals spread wide against each other, some looked as though they were flowing freely in the air, and some looked as though they were stuck to one another.

A deep red liquid spurting out of the center, running down the limp rose and glazing its petals as it oozes from the center bottom and down the sides of her arm, creating for a unique, yet concerning mosaic upon her forearm.

"Is that blood?" They'd asked, some looking curious, and some looking downright disgusted at the mere sight of her mark. Something that was supposed to be naturally celebrated, not hated and sneered upon. They were convinced she'd be a menace to her soulmate, like soulmates were anything other than fate.

Marinette did not know if it was blood, obviously. There was no superior entity whispering to her at night, informing her of every single petal's weight in grams. Instead, it was easier to have a friend pick apart the dubious meaning of such a cryptic mark, unlike so many others, hers was not so simple.

Kagami, especially, had a great eye for these things. The meticulous thought that girl compartmentalizes for the sole topic is unbelievable at first glance. It's only when you see much more of her, do you understand why she even bothers with soulmarks.

"You wouldn't believe the meaning behind such marks, Marinette. It's only when you start to break the first barrier, do you know." Okay, so, Marinette had no such way with words as the world-class fencer, but she was pretty sure the girl was saying that marks represent people the way names represent their spices.

Salt, for example. You can just tell the flavor of salt by it’s damn name.

“You’re the epitome of innocence, Marinette,—“ Marinette begs to differ, she’s read fanfiction. “But it seems you’ve been hurt, aged more than what a white rose will represent for you. That’s where the blood paints over you, like a parasite.” Marinette furrows her eyebrows at Kagami, a reoccurring gesture that will give her wrinkles by the end of the year, she knows, but it’s Kagami.

They’re sitting in their apartment, high above the Gotham smog and litter they’ve learned to acquaint themselves with, and looking out over the city from their ratty second-hand couch.

—Because Marinette wants to live with someone who will break her finger and then call her stupid and put a cast on it for whatever reason, you feel?

Another twig, green leaves still growing out of it—though, probably not since the severance—blows by their window, spurred on by a lone gust and back down to the ground, plummeting to an unfortunately placed puddle on the pavement.

“Stop moping.” Marinette makes a face.

“I was not moping.”

“You were making that sad face you make when you see a puppy walking by itself on the street. You’re moping. Why?” Marinette huffs in annoyance, and turns to look at her friend, who’s already staring with an exasperated quirked eyebrow.

She flounders for words, making exuberant gestures with her hands as she tries not to look Kagami in the eye.

An audible exhale from the woman. “You’re worried about, what, your soulmate, for whatever reason?”

Marinette looks down at her mark, it’s entrancing rose petals glowing brightly against her skin, almost alike to the glittery sheen of highlighter she so often brushes onto her cheekbones.

“It started glowing last night, Kagami.” Marinette worries her lip and continues to stare at the now pulsing, almost obnoxious glow of her rose, the red liquid that spurts from its center taking on a glamorous shine.

“That’s wonderful. Right?” Kagami adds, when she fails to find a response.

It should be. She knows that. She should be joyous right now, jumping ecstatically and rejoicing at the fact that she might find her soulmate sooner than later, but the ever-impending doom of, ‘what if’ continuously pops up in her brain, muddling any chance of happiness she might’ve had.

Marinette’s psyche is aged. She’s been through things. A lot of things that most people haven’t been through. Deaths, loss of loved ones, reoccurring terrorist attacks, and so much more that puts a haunted look in her eye and a deep hunch in her shoulders. She couldn’t bear to see the look on her soulmate’s face.

Kagami seems to read her mind and makes a low noise in the back of her throat. “Let’s go to the zoo.” So spontaneous, it almost makes Marinette do a double take.

“You? Want to go to the zoo?” She stares at Kagami, the latter unwavering with a borderline determined look on her face that says, ‘Nope. No fighting me on this one.’

“Distraction.” Is all she says, and for once, Marinette agrees that, yes, maybe a distraction is in order.

The Gotham City Zoo proves to be a great distraction, in between the hippo exhibit and the jungle-themed building just for showcasing snakes, Marinette finds a rather warmth in her heart.

Marinette grins widely at the crocodiles lounging across various rocks, seemingly not a care in the world is thrown around in between her and the fenced crocodiles, and she harbors a sort of piece standing alone. (Kagami had ditched her at the zebras for the lions.)

Distantly, she hears what sounds like two people fighting—or, bickering.

“—over here, got bit by a crocodile.” An erupt of laughter from two different voices, one distinct with a low raspy laugh, and the other, who starts hacking nastily in the middle of it.

“Those cigarettes do not benefit you, Todd. This is not a laughable event.” A third voice juts in, and she has to turn her head, locate the source of whoever said that.

Three men, one looking younger than the other two, stand slightly to the right of her in front of the crocodile exhibit, the two older men seem to be laughing at the younger’s expense—how do you even get bitten by a crocodile? She decides to not judge. This is Gotham, after all.

And, oh.

The guy they seem to be laughing at has the brightest green eyes she’s ever seen. Ink black hair frames his face beautifully, as he sneers down at the other two. The stranger doesn’t seem to notice her stare, but it’s cut short anyway by the sudden immense throbbing of her forearm.

Marinette winces, and slowly pulls down her sleeve to see her soul mark is—

Finished. It’s glowing, glowing far more than it had been over the course of the past two days, glowing so much she can barely squint to see that buried deep in the middle of her rose, a pristine dagger.

Marinette’s eyes widen, and she can’t help but make an incoherent sound that fights its way up her throat.

A tap on her shoulder, and she turns around to see the boy she was shamelessly staring at is right in front of her, and, woah, he’s tall. Marinette cranes her head up to look at the boy who so quickly grabbed her attention.

He also has the prettiest blush on his face, his eyes darting in between her and his companions, who seem to be laughing even harder, and in the distance, she hears a crude nickname being thrown at him.

“Holy shit, Demon Brat actually has a soulmate—“ a sentence cut off by more wheezing laughter, so she turns her gaze back to the boy in front of her.

“I’m Damian, you’re...soulmate.” The last word comes out wonky, like he couldn’t believe his own words, but she understands. He’s staring at Marinette now, bright green gaze fixed so intently on her, and she can’t help but blush, herself.

“Marinette. I figured, actually, when my arm started to sting like a bitch.” She says, once her mouth finally aligns with her brain and she gets the courage to say something relevant to smart.

Damian cracks a small smile, and she finds herself following the gesture with her eyes. It’s a beautiful movement, one she can tell is foreign to him, a shame.

And she doesn’t feel jittery. More at peace, looking at the equally aged look deep in his eyes, and the mark right in the middle of her forearm, she can guess he’s been through a hell of a lot, maybe more than she has.

Marinette will spend a lifetime learning what lies behind his exterior, looking at him now.

She supposes this soulmate thing won’t be too hard, after all, even as the two men behind them keep bickering and laughing at their predicament in front of the crocodile exhibit.

#maribatdrabbleexchange #maribat #daminette #mlb x dc #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #damian

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Note

31 and 42 for any character(s) you want

eyyy ty for the ask 🥰

31. most prized possession

billy has one picture of his mother.

he managed to keep some of her stuff hidden from neil. a few small things. a filigree dolphin ring she’d left by the bathroom sink, a rinsed out jam jar full of her favourite bits of sea glass, and a paperback novel with curling edges and a broken spine. he used to pester her while she was reading, ask her endless questions until she relented and read out loud for him. didn’t matter what she was reading, he barely paid attention to the stories anyways, he just liked to hear her do the voices.

and all of those things are important to him. (he keeps them in separate hiding places, in case neil ever goes looking through his things, he doesn’t want them all thrown out at once, if it comes to that.) he’s read the book dozens of times. he used to wear the ring when he was alone in his room, but he outgrew it years ago. when he has the house to himself he sorts through the sea glass, lays it all out on his bed and tries to remember the stories she told about each piece.

and he treasures all these little keepsakes, but none more than the single, faded photograph he has of the women herself. a polaroid he took when he was too young to hold the camera properly. it’s crooked, and at a weird, unflattering angle, the sun blotting out a whole corner of the photo, but her smile is still clear and visible, and that’s all that matters.

because she left when he was so young. and he worries that one day he’ll forget what she looks like.

so he looks at the picture every day. sometimes just a glance, to remind himself, and sometimes, when he’s snuck in through his window after a party, drunk and woozy and in his feelings, he’ll sit on his floor and look at it til his eyes get tired and he can’t blink away the tears anymore.

and i think that steve would have a weird relationship with possessions. like. as a teenager, stuff feels like a burden sometimes. all the things his parents bought. he isn’t allowed to complain about his parents not spending time with him because they’ve given him things instead. that they’re at least somewhat invested in keeping him alive. his dad would definitely be one of those “you’re so ungrateful, and after we fed and clothed you all these years” kind of parents.

so he has all these things that are supposed to mean something to him, but they just. don’t.

then when him and billy become tentative friends, billy decides he’s deeply and personally offended by steve’s taste in music. and he makes him a mixtape. it’s just. songs billy likes. music that doesn’t suck scribbled on the label, with a dumb little winky face drawn on the corner. it is in no way a romantic gesture, except. excep steve’s already got a massive crush on billy so, really, he couldve handed over a fucking math textbook and steve still would’ve gotten butterflies over the fact that billy thought of him at all.

and then billy listens to it with him. talks to him about it. it’s not just that billy thought of him, made something for him, but it’s an excuse to spend time with him too.

and when they start dating billy starts to give him other stuff. little things. a wonky little stuffed turtle he snagged from a claw machine while steve paid for their pizza. a piece of sea glass he found when they took a trip to the beach (he looked real serious when he handed it over, his eyes a little distant, and steve didn’t quite understand why, but the frown was easily kissed away). and a couple more mixtapes over the years. that steve would keep even when they couldn’t be played anymore.

he keeps these things in a fancy little wooden box on his dresser, all polished and shiny with gold plated hinges. full of all the things billy’s ever given him. and maybe it’s a little fucked up that sometimes he thinks he keeps these things because he needs the tangible proof that he’s loved, and that without all the little tokens of affections he’d just float untethered and unsure, but. they aren’t just things anymore, they’re memories, and love

42. hobbies

i absolutely adore the idea of post s3 billy just. doing a bunch of grandma activities lmao. his lungs and his heart are all busted up and there’s residual chest pain and he just can’t be as active as he used to be. plus he’s not as social anymore. being possessed and traumatized will do that to you. and then people start to notice that he’s stuck at home, bored and depressed. max notices. steve notices. word gets around.

and somehow their campaign to help him leads to him learning how to bake (max starts taking out cookbooks from the library and giving them to him) and taking care of plants (steve buys him cacti and herbs and anything that blooms blue) and eventually mrs henderson teaches him how to knit. (doc owens says it’ll be good for his hands, keep his fine motor skills sharp. and he doesn’t laugh. which helps)

and all of it helps keep him occupied. keep him from wallowing too much. and it’s nice to make things. keep things alive. feels like a step forward

and idk about in canon, but whether it’s an au thing or not, i love steve as an artist. he’s not great with words, and he just feels. dumb a lot of the time. he’s not intellectual. not good at school, things that his dad and his teachers tell him he’s supposed to be good at if he wants to amount to anything. but when he gets bored in class, when he just doesn’t understand the book he’s supposed to be reading, or he can’t follow along with the complicated formulas up on the board, he doodles. his notebooks are full of little drawings. caricatures of his classmates. landscape snapshots of what he can see through the window. he gets restless and his mind wanders but when he’s drawing he focuses.

and he doesn’t really show people. doesn’t tell anyone. he doesn’t think of himself as an artist, he just can’t concentrate in class so he doodles. it’s a shameful thing.

but maybe a teacher notices. takes an interest. encourages him a little. and its not much but it’s a start. lets him think about it a little more positively. he still hides it from his parents, he knows it’d just end with a lecture from his dad, but he feels less shitty about himself when he flips through his notebooks that are full of more pictures than words.

headcanon asks

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #a raven's writing desk #i guess lol #i went on a bit of a ramble #u just know that artist steve would have like #pages and pages of sketches of billy after he moves to hawkins #like he wants to hate this guy but he's just so damn pretty and he can't stop drawing him

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paperpocalypse · 3 years

Text

duty.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Aristocrat!Reader

Word Count: 2,407 words

Warning: Wonky and inaccurate aristocrat/rich people politics and marrying young because of it, please bear with me

[A/N: No powers!Historical!AU]

The elegance of the Hargreeves estate is of the dark, academic sort – polished, reserved, all sharp lines and dim lighting and old books – and you’d feel quite intimidated by it if you were any less acquainted with its occupants. You and your sister always look out of place when you visit, bright splotches of summer color roaming the narrow, perpetually autumnal hallways; and when congregating with the siblings in the library or outside, any visitor could glance at your merry group and immediately tell apart the hosts and the guests.

It’s all a reflection of your respective parents, really – if you had any say in how you presented yourself, it certainly wouldn’t be in the vivid, youthful hues of your mother’s choosing, and you’re sure that some of the others have similar sentiments.

Because while your family and Five’s family are certainly different in some ways, their respective heads are both pretty damn suffocating.

“Looks like it’s a draw.”

You grunt, displeased, and collapse back in your chair, bundling up in your blanket. “Can’t take a loss, can you, Five?”

“Not if I can help it,” he answers. His frown and crossed arms speak to his dissatisfaction with the result; losing is never an option, but clear-cut victories are always better than a draw. “Want to play again?”

The suggestion is tempting. Very tempting. You reach out and pick up your king, feeling the cold, smooth marble against the pads of your fingertips, and purse your lips in thought. Your eyes flick up briefly to meet Five’s.

Oh.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you finally say, putting the piece down. “I’m getting a bit tired.”

Five studies you for a moment, head tilting in that particular, scrutinizing way of his. Then his expression smooths out and he nods.

After putting the pieces back into place, the two of you exit the warmth of the library and head towards the guest wing. The walk is silent; you keep your borrowed blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, the bottom dragging across the perfect, wooden floor as you look at the paintings hung along the wall. They’re landscapes, mostly – of dark green forests; cold, still oceans; blue-grey mountains shrouded in mist. Impersonal and very fitting for the tastes of Five’s father, that’s for sure.

When you reach your room, you smile at your companion, and it feels unnaturally polite. “Well, goodnight, Five.”

“Goodnight.”

The boy turns and strolls back down the hallway, and you wait until he disappears around the corner, chewing on your bottom lip, before pushing the door open to enter your room.

“You two are duller than an ashtray. 'Goodnight’?”

“Sh –” you bite back an expletive, whipping around to glare at the intruder on your bed. “Lila, go back to your own room!”

Your sister just stares at you from her upside-down position, arms and legs splayed out as she smiles. “You still haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“We don’t need to,” you snap back quietly, closing the door as quickly as you can without slamming it. “He understands it as well as you and I do.”

“You realize Mum never said you’ll have to marry the guy.”

“Of course not; she just strongly suggested it.”

“Still not an order.”

Her flippancy causes you to glare. “Lord Harold is rich and he’s willing –"

“He’s a massive creep,” she interrupts, giving you an incredulous look. “And you just came of age, [Y/n]. You’ll be miserable.”

“I can get it annulled after five years, remember?”

“You’re really going to last for five years?”

She’s trying to pull something out of you, you know it. You try to maintain your composure.

“A massive debt isn’t going to just disappear,” you repeat. “It was either him or Lady Helen, and Helen got betrothed last month. Harold’s the quickest way to fix it, in case you forgot.”

“And in case you forgot, it’s literally not your problem. Stop making a martyr of yourself when you don’t have to.” Lila sits up and swivels around to face you, crossing her legs. Her expression is expectant. “I’ll figure something out, so don’t throw a fit, alright? The debt’s going to be mine along with the estate. You can afford to disappoint Mum for once in your life.”

Your brow furrows. “Lila –”

“If you keep arguing, I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” she says. “Either you agree with me, or you tell your future love affair that you’re marrying a human toad in the spring.”

“Future lo – it’s not like that! We’re friends!”

Lila holds your indignant gaze. Then, with practiced, unladylike ease, she hops off your bed, puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at you.

“You have the worst case of denial I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” she says.

“I’m being completely honest,” you retort hotly. And you are. You and Five are friends, and although the nature of your relationship is admittedly more comfortable than any other friendship you’ve had over the years, nothing between you and Five had ever been non-platonic.

(Not that you would mind something non-platonic – but as you’ve reiterated to Lila many, many times, you’re just as content being friends. Having a genuine, close companion in your world is rare, and you’re tired of everyone deciding what you and Five should be when the two of you are more than capable of figuring it out for yourselves.)

“Why do you care, anyway? Everything will be easier for you if I marry Harold.”

“And more miserable for you.” She lets her arms fall to her sides. “Look, I’m the oldest, so I’m supposed to be the miserable one, not you. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t marry Harold. Give yourself more time to grow up.”

You don’t know what to say.

Seemingly finished with her piece, Lila smiles before brushing past you, nudging your blanket to the side on her way to the door. You glance away when she looks over her shoulder at you.

“Sleep on it.”

… You do, though it’s a lot less sleep than you’d hoped.

—

The next morning is slow and lazy. It’s a good thing in your opinion, because as mentioned before, you had spent a great deal of the night thinking about what your sister had said, and your head feels quite foggy as a result. A cup of tea and a horse ride with everyone outside in the snow both help somewhat over the course of the day. However, by the time the sky begins to darken, you’re back in your room to take a nap before supper, and quickly return thereafter.

When you hear three quick raps on your door, you groan and drag yourself out of bed.

“Lila,” you grumble as you turn the knob and pull, “can’t you go bother Diego instead –”

You swallow your words when you see your actual visitor. Five gives you a brief, tight-lipped smile.

“Mind if I come in?”

“Uh,” you respond intelligently, then shake your head and step to the side, remembering your manners. “Of course.”

Five walks in and heads towards the window. You go to the couch nearby and sit down, slightly perplexed as he finds an interest in the candle burning on the sill – he’s welcome to hang around in here, certainly, but the two of you usually convene in his room or the library. The guest room doesn’t have much to offer in terms of entertainment.

In due time, the boy turns away from the frost-covered window and joins you on the couch.

“Your sister said you weren’t feeling well,” is all he says.

So that’s why he’s here. Shrugging, you put your hands in your lap, fiddling with the family ring on your middle finger. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

Your lackluster explanation isn’t enough, if his short, replying hum is anything to go by. Five leans forward, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. And what else? he seems to say.

“It’s … It’s just been a busy year, with Lila and me coming of age and all. More responsibilities and expectations, and all that,” you eventually continue, staring down at the thick, luxurious carpet at your feet. “Though I don’t have much of a right to complain. Lila’s bearing most of the pressure, since she’s the heir apparent …”

“She doesn’t seem too bothered,” Five points out, tone bland.

You allow yourself to grin. “Because we’re on vacation. Five, if you saw Lila this summer, you would’ve seen how hard she’s been working.” Not to mention all of the proposals that she had so graciously shot down, on account of her veto power and general distaste for marriage. “Honestly, the two of you have a lot in common and I don’t know why you butt heads so often.”

“I have my reasons.”

At that cryptic snark, you reach out and gain purchase on his hair, ruffling it in righteous revenge. Five grunts half-heartedly, elbowing you away. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and you almost feel like this conversation is going to be normal – that is, as normal as it gets with a Hargreeves.

(His hair is very soft. You feel bad for messing it up, so you attempt to smooth it back into its original state; about a minute into that attempt you realize what you’re actually doing and withdraw. You shouldn’t be so improper.)

Do you have to do this?

You decide to pay the piper before you can talk yourself out of it. “You know,” you say when the joviality fades, “she’s the one who suggested that I talk to you. About my possible betrothal.”

Five’s expression flattens. He looks straight ahead again, resting his elbows on his knees. “What is there to talk about?”

“Well, you’re my closest friend and one of the smartest people I know, so I ought to ask for your opinion on the possibility of …” You reconsider for one final moment, then inhale deeply and let it out. “Of me refusing Lord Harold’s offer.”

To your slight surprise, Five nods.

“Did you talk to your mother about it?” he questions.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for months, but I only started seriously considering it last night. And now I really don’t want to marry Lord Harold. He unsettles me and I’m not ready.”

He frowns. “Neither of them is going to accept that as a reason.”

“I know.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “They’ll kick up a fuss over finances and it’ll be a bit of a scandal. That’s why I’m asking for your advice.”

Being the pragmatist that he is, you had thought that Five would be more averse to your plan. He himself had done things that he did not want to do in order to help his siblings, so you had assumed that despite his immediate dislike of Lord Harold since the night of your coming-of-age celebration, Five would tell you to endure a few years with the noble before disposing of him and collecting your dues. It’s the easiest way to get what you and your family needed, after all.

The fact that he’s so accepting of your decision makes you curious …

“First of all, even if he recognizes your refusal – and you’ll probably have a hard time with that, which will be an issue all on its own – your mother will try to find someone else to ship you off to,” he states, eyebrows pinched. “Preferably within the next year or so, right?”

“Yes.”

“How likely is she to push back your marriage by a few years?”

“… Not very likely,” you admit.

The boy pauses, thinking, then sits back.

“I could propose to you,” he offers, “if you’d like.”

You accidentally laugh out loud, you’re so taken aback. Five? Proposing? “Come again?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“We’re practically penniless. Would your father even give his blessing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Penniless or not, you’re an aristocrat with a title. If nothing else, Dad will accept that.”

“Neither of us want to get married.”

“And yet it’s your most realistic option thus far.” Five pins you with a serious gaze, and it finally hits you that he’s genuinely, actually asking. “Are you okay with it or not?”

“I …” You fumble over your words, staring at Five with wide eyes. “I mean, yes, I’d be okay with that, but … are you sure? You’d marry me just to get me out of another marriage?”

(Your question is not born of a doubt that he’ll go through with it. Five is a person of his word. But this is a big deal, and you’re both young, and most importantly of all, you don’t want this to be a mistake.)

“Let’s just say that I’d rather it be you than anyone else,” he mutters, shrugging softly. “This is your back-up plan, anyway. And if the marriage goes sideways, we can have it annulled after a few years and you’ll get a settlement too.”

He says it as if he’s discussing the weather. You chuckle, inexplicably reassured and amused by his bluntness. “Not even ten minutes into your proposal and you’re already thinking about an annulment? I fear for our future, Five.”

“There are worse things to be afraid of,” he replies sardonically. “Bring it up with your mom when you go back. If you can’t get out of a marriage, write me and I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Alright. You should bring Allison with you, though.”

“I suggest the same with Lila. Make it convincing.”

That won’t be too difficult. You nod, and with that, the deal seems to be sealed. Although you’re still processing what just happened, and Five is likely realizing just what he and you are potentially getting yourselves into, the two of you share a small smile nonetheless. It is hard not to.

“Thank you,” you murmur after a while.

Five glances over at your hands, then down at his. “Don't thank me yet."

"Alright, then. If you insist."

As your friend twists the steel ring on his index finger, you think to yourself, yes, you do want more time to grow up. But if the world won’t give that to you, you figure that a life with Five would be the next best thing.

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ssspringroll · 4 years

Photo

DOWNLOAD (sfs, no ads)

UPDATED AGAIN! NEW AND IMPROVED MAY 17, 2022!

I’ve done my best to improve eye-popping issues, and also reshaped the eye slightly to make the seam look a little nicer so you have a little more sculpting freedom without having to worry about making things look odd. I also finally fixed the preset thumbnails, so you don’t have to look at the ugly ea-generated ones anymore :) If you redownload and replace the old package, your cyclopses should update to the new version just fine. The eye shape should be very close to the original, so they most likely won’t need any fixing after you update. If you’ve used an older version of these presets, you may need to clear your caches for the thumbnails to show up.

Whoa! Not a piece of cc I expected to make, but when I figured out I could, I knew it was my duty.

This is an eye preset that contorts your beloved sims’ faces into that of a cyclops. Because its a preset, it still moves and uses sliders, opens/closes like a regular eye.

However, because it’s one very large eyeball taking up 2 eye sockets, stuff gets a little fucky sometimes. In a lot of ‘normal’ facial expressions, the eye looks perfectly fine. But if they turn it too far, then the eyeball pops out of the eye socket a little bit. I think I’ve minimized this to the best of my ability without sacrificing the Look. It also might look a little wonky if the sim winks.

It should appear near the top of your eye presets, and all three sizes have a custom thumbnail.

It also doesn’t always look great out of the box, you gotta play with the nose sliders usually and the eye sliders a bit.

I recommend using them with a monobrow/unibrow, but like. Obviously make your sims however you want!

Enabled for all ages, genders, and occults. It should be genetic? I haven’t tested

**UPDATE**: Now it comes in three sizes! Original, larger, and extra large! These are included all in the same package. If you already downloaded, please redownload! The bigger eyes have slightly more noticeable clipping, but it’s not too much worse! (Note: you will likely need to do more face tweaking the larger the eye, I had to squish my models nose so it didn’t poke through)

‘But how does it look with makeup and glasses?’

Makeup looks shockingly good. The eyelids merge in just the right spot, though on some eyeshadows there is a bit of a noticeable seam. One of the images shows an eyeshadow where each eye is a different color, so you can more easily see the seam in the center.

It doesn’t change any glasses as far as I’ve seen, so they may look a bit silly, but I have some custom-made glasses available here. But the 3d lashes that I’ve tried DO work.

Anyway, I think that’s all! I would love to see the cyclopses you all make, so feel free to tag me if you post screenshots of this preset!

Look below the cut for images of in-game eyeball pop outs

#s4cc #sims 4 cc #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 alien #the sims 4 alien #ts4 alien #sims 4 cyclops #sims 4 occult #sims 4 supernatural #sims 4 preset #sims 4 presets #sims 4 eyes #my cc

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diyeoracha · 4 years

Text

IwaOi Fanfiction Masterlist with 90+ Works

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 290 bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi, Haikyuu S4 part 2, and @haikyuuweek2020 (Day 7 - Free Choice), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite Iwaoi fics in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic for those works! Works are split up into genres such as alternate universe (either not childhood friends or set on Earth), angst, canon compliant (post timeskip with spoilers), canon divergent (childhood friends but divergent timeline post timeskip), high school, and university au

Formatting update: Jan 13, 2021 (spacing is wonky on the mobile app!).

Fic update: Jan 7, 2021

This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! I really do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos! Please reblog and like so more people can enjoy

Titles marked with (♡) are my absolute favorites and there’s a chance I cried while reading them but otherwise they’re in alphabetical order

Alternate Universe

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.” Reincarnation AU

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.” Royalty AU

Built a Temple in Me

Word count: 55k

Summary: Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast. God Oikawa AU

Quote: It fills his heart anyway, heals the hole in his chest that had been bleeding since he cut Tooru so forcibly from him.

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends AU

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Quote: Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll."

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there. Modern AU

Desperado

Word count: 82k

Summary: Clearly Iwaizumi had a checkered past. Kyoutani has never asked about it, nor has Iwaizumi ever brought it up. He knows it’s a sore spot for his mentor, just like the gorgeous Monte Carlo he keeps hidden away is, so he leaves it alone. Out on the streets, you learn a little something about when to turn a blind eye in order to survive; Kyoutani knows better than most to leave the past of men like Iwaizumi well alone. Heist AU

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet. Superhero AU

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying. “It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.” Edge of Tomorrow AU

In Defense of Reptiles

Word count: 9k

Summary: In their seventh year, Oikawa is chosen to be the Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Iwaizumi suffers. Harry Potter AU

Quote: “You are so spoiled,” Iwaizumi tells him, but lets him shuffle down until Iwaizumi’s hand is now running through Oikawa’s hair instead of rubbing his shoulder.

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru. Harry Potter AU

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime. Prison AU

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul. Pacific Rim AU

Quote: Quiet settles between them softly, like the warm pressure of the blanket, or Iwaizumi's fingers curling to lightly hold the fabric of Oikawa's shirt.

The Long Light

Word count: 36k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there. Harry Potter AU

Magic Man

Word count: 12k

Summary: Oikawa is named the most desirable wizard in France. Iwaizumi is not impressed. Harry Potter AU

Quote: You keep saying partner or them. Is it rude of me to ask you to clarify?

Meet me in the grey area

Word count: 24k

Summary: Set in a hero/villain AU with Iwa as our trusty hero and Oikawa as our charming villain

Saw You at the Fish Market

Word count: 14k

Summary: In other words, Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

♡♡ (sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow. Historical fantasy AU

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.). Escort AU

♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right? A/B/O AU

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed. Astronaut AU

Stop the Time

Word count: 10k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Hospital AU

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself. Yakuza AU

These Flowers I Stole For You

Word count: 3k

Summary: ANBU don't cry. They tear themselves apart, bit by bit, and then they stitch themselves whole again. Naruto AU

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally. “You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.” Detective AU

Page 305 of 304

Word count: 53k

Summary: “…she called you ‘papa’,” iwaizumi managed. oikawa just stared for a moment longer before relaxing in a smile. “yeah. cute, right? but you can call me ‘daddy’ if you want.”

Temporary fix

Word count: 12k

Summary: “And you’ve shampooed his hair how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” A/B/O AU

Tokyo Boy

Word count: 16k

Summary: He has feelings for Iwaizumi Hajime, who probably has casual lovers just like him in every major city he visits on business. Oikawa is just his Tokyo Boy, just another pit-stop on Iwaizumi’s travels. Businessman AU

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Watch Me

Word count: 32k

Summary: Oikawa's a cam model. It’s been a month since Iwaizumi first spoke in his chat. When they meet in person, things get complicated. Cam model AU

Angst

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart

Quote: “ ‘it’s just—I’m just trying so hard—’‘What, and I’m not?’

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Canon Compliant

Are You Listening?

Word count: 4k

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

Quote: “Iwa-chan, watch out for the log—!” Oikawa looked on in horror as his best friend tripped and fell flat on his face.

Edge of the balcony

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.

How can this loser ever win

Word count: 2k

Summary: everyone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no idea

♡♡♡Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

maybe we could be enough

Word count: 9k

Summary: iwaizumi hums in reply as the car goes silent, frank ocean crooning from the speakers. they stop at a red light when iwaizumi feels eyes at the side of his face, and turns to look at oikawa.

Most people never even get a single high school rival

Word count: 5k

Summary: Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer.

Primavera

Word count: 8k

Summary: They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Quote: Did you know that distance is only me, growing towards you?

♡♡♡rest on your laurels

Word count: 4k

Summary: In Iwaizumi’s heart of hearts, untouched by time, they are young and alive, burning with the hearth of home and bright as winter light. Unbreakable. Invincible.

♡♡♡Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

‘Til Infinity

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey,” he says, “that cloud looks kind of like a dick.”

Quote: “I got you ladybug”

♡♡♡ You Set Off a Dream In Me

Word count: 15k

Summary: In which Oikawa is 41 and ready to retire. He's at the top of his game and ready to find a new challenge. Turns out his new challenge is pretty familiar. It's high school, round 2.

Quote: A past with an Iwaizumi that wasn’t on the opposite side of the net, monsters on all sides, guiding a setter that had lived the dream left behind in the ruins of Tooru’s past self.

Canon Divergent

a world alone

Word count: 60k

Summary: Iwaizumi has his medical books on the musculoskeletal system. Oikawa has his research papers on parallel universes. It isn't until much, much later that they realize they have each other.

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Kapan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Quote: There are only two things that have ever broken Oikawa Tooru’s heart. Iwa-chan would say Tooru has no heart to break, but that’s simply untrue.

Count your blessings, it goes 1,2,3, me

Word count: 7k

Summary: He's unsettled by the undefined boundaries of their relationship so it's all his luck that he accidentally wins three wishes to be granted just for him, and all that comes to mind is Iwaizumi.

Quote: Now, as an adult, past convenience of circumstance and the haze of hormonal lust, exactly none of his feelings have worn off

♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

♡days fall away

Word count:17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Quote: “You and Tooru,” he begins, and then shrugs. “I was just thinking, you look at each other a lot.” And he walks away, leaving Hajime winded, and sort of aching, somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever that means.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3 Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties. Doctor AU

♡♡In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Quote: A flare of pride lit in Oikawa as he watched Iwaizumi's eyes crinkle with mirth and in that yawning second, it bloomed into a warmth that bordered on a burn, forcing a bittersweet inhale.

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Quote: Iwaizumi blushes even more. “That you’re here, I mean. I’m happy that you’re here. With me.”

♡♡♡Mint

Word count: 19k

Summary: It's the December after Iwaizumi’s last year in university when Tokyo welcomes him with a new ad campaign for Bright Days toothpaste, and Oikawa Tooru—fresh off a run at the 2016 Summer Olympics—has decided to grace the city with his signature grin, a flip of his wayfarer sunglasses, and the most irrepressible tag line for the signboard above.

Quote: "To be able to tell him, in the new year." This comes under Oikawa's breath, so low that Matsukawa and Hanamaki can't hear, and the game continues.

Six-Month Lover

Word count: 89k

Summary: Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Special Relativity

Word count: 22k

Summary: Time moves differently for people in different inertial reference frames. Oikawa goes on a two-year exploratory mission in space. Iwaizumi's been waiting for a lot longer than that.

♡♡sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Quote: Oikawa’s grin in the last set of the morning’s game. Oikawa’s grin as they sat on their asses on a golf course. Oikawa’s grin when they were in college. When they were in high school. When they were twenty-two, seventeen, fifteen, twelve, six.

High School

Bet On It

Word count: 13k

Summary: Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Quote: The whole instant-compliance thing was seriously creeping him out. Oikawa from a week ago would have made a crack about how if he'd wanted something cold, he could have just put his face on Hajime's shoulder.

Betweens

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iwaizumi is asleep in the club room. Oikawa is blindingly awake in the club room. The sun moves slowly across the sky, and Iwaizumi’s skin is gold underneath it. Oikawa watches the changing shadows on Iwaizumi’s face and thinks about nothing in particular.

Don’t think too much

Word count: 6k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a confusing, drunken encounter and then deal with the (sticky) consequences.

Quote: As soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Oikawa did what he always did: exactly the opposite of what Hajime wanted

Gates

Word count: 12k

Summary: The day after their graduation ceremony, they drive to the beach at Shirahama. Iwaizumi drives, because it’s his car, and as he has told Oikawa on multiple occasions, he’d rather die than let him touch the wheel.

Quote: ‘Yeah,’ he says, because they’re on a beach, and they’re supposed to be on a metaphorical journey, and they’re supposed to be growing up, and completing rites of passage, so it’s honesty, today - just for today, at least.

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Quote: But Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa laughing with that girl in the low light of the gym, a particular kind of quiet intimacy that Iwaizumi’s only ever read about in books hovering in the air, and all it makes him feel is small and petty and spiteful.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Make sure you cross the line

Word count: 4k

Summary: With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

Quote: He’s been asking Iwaizumi to go out with him every single day this past week, increasingly panicked about getting his time and attention now that they’re nearing the end of this season of their lives.

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation. That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

static

Word count: 6k

Summary: Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

Quote: It's fate that brought them together and choice that keeps them that way. The closest description in Hajime’s vocabulary is partners, but only because Oikawa taught him what its true definition is.

Told before and told again

Word count: 3k

Summary: This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

Quote: When Oikawa lets out a long, heavy breath, Iwaizumi looks up at him and frowns, and flings a towel over Oikawa’s head to cover his face. Then, he tugs, once, on Oikawa’s fingers, and leads him down the hallway, Oikawa walking quietly in tow.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Quote: Because Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa nearly all his life and never felt anything more than vague affection usually followed by intense irritation for him. But then suddenly at eighteen years old and nearly two weeks into a very badly planned road trip, it’s like someone flipped a switch somewhere inside Iwaizumi

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

reassemble it

Word count: 15k

Summary: When Tooru was six years old, he discovered—unbeknownst to him at the time—two of the most important things in his life: volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. It was ironic that he had stumbled upon them hand in hand—quite literally, too.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Quote: Iwaizumi’s expression right now is less terrified than it used to get back then, but he’s tight-lipped with concern, and his broad body blocks out other passengers as if their stares might be a danger to Tooru too.

University AU

An Archaeology of Affection

Word count: 23k

Summary: For Hajime, it is a riddle and simultaneously so evident. It fills his chest, surging like water, paints heat up his neck. In retrospect, it eats up his days, makes them its own until it feels like his heart has always been in his throat at the smile thrown over Oikawa’s shoulder, the stilling of his fingers on Hajime’s sleeve.

closure

Word count: 22k

Summary: In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one. Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Quote: “On the first day of his university career, Oikawa Tooru walks into his dorm, spots his assigned roommate, and turns one hundred and eighty degrees and walks right back out. He dials a familiar phone number - the first one he ever memorized - and starts complaining before Iwaizumi even gets the chance to say hello. “Iwa-chan,” he says, “tell me why Ushiwaka is in my dorm room.”

♡♡♡galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

Quote: I AM A HEADASS

Hands to yourself

Word count: 11k

Summary: He missed his parents, and he missed Takeru, and Takeru's badly behaved puppy. He missed Aoba Jousai, and he missed the volleyball team. He even missed Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just a little.

Home, and how we made ours

Word count: 3k

Summary: “No, I like it here.” There’s a rustling as Iwaizumi shifts, inching closer. “I like it here, as in this crappy apartment—with you.”

Quote: “Do your fights end up being like—you know, about actual things and then extending into toddler days and suddenly you’re accusing Iwaizumi of kissing the girl you used to like in preschool?”

in progress to you

Word count: 6k

Summary: The eventuality of Oikawa and Iwaizumi falling toward each other is dramatically lackluster. Still, it's a process to go through.

Quote: “But what if you didn’t eat my pudding all the time?” Iwaizumi asks flatly, ignoring the way Oikawa is slapping his thigh to get out of his chokehold. “Do you think I buy them for you, huh? I buy them for me, you turd.”

Like we’re made of starlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: (a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

Ninety nine percent

Word count: 14k

Summary: more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Quote: Their ace was lining up for the ball, knees bent and arm pulled back, just as Tooru tosses the ball……to Hajime.

no sleep in the city

Word count: 7k

Summary: Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Quote: “I was only telling Hanamaki literally yesterday that your personality isn’t as vile as before,” Iwaizumi informs, slightly stiff from the way Oikawa’s got an arm looped through his own. “Why do you make me such a liar to people I care about?”

Out of nowhere

Word count: 8k

Summary: They move in together after graduation and it's doing weird things to Iwaizumi's heart. He's a little in denial about it.

Quote: Oikawa excitedly ran up to him when Iwaizumi came home with groceries the other day. Not about the food but just to say how boring everything is when Iwaizumi's not there, eyes shining, and he couldn't meet his gaze after from blushing down to his neck. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

♡♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Quote: “I’m in love with you,” Oikawa tells him three days after they graduate junior high, head in his lap and hands gently folded over his chest and completely and totally unconcerned that he’d just shattered Hajime’s world.

Terpischore

Word count: 38k

Summary: They’d ended up going to different universities, Tooru and he. The distance was good for them. The confession Hajime dropped in both their laps wasn’t. That’s how it’d ended – a lifetime of friendship crumbled to dust in the space of five minutes. (Or, a lesson in learning to move on from things you can't have, in finding old loves in new ways and in understanding that life is never truly simple... till it is.)

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

these foolish things (remind me of you)

Word count: 3k

Summary: Oikawa helps Iwaizumi move into his new college dorm.

Quote: He’s desperate for something to happen. It must show on his face because Iwaizumi blushes and looks away. The thing is, Oikawa always looks at him like this when Iwaizumi isn’t paying attention.

They say it rains diamonds on Jupiter

Word count: 35k

Summary: "You're in love with him. "Hajime considers denying it. "Yeah," he says instead.

Quote: “Share the weight of your feelings with me, Hajime wants to beg when he hears Tooru's first hitched breath. Let me carry some of your burdens”

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Undecipherable

Word count: 4k

Summary: "Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

Quote: Because for all the bravado, for all the flaunting Oikawa does, he wants Hajime by his side, and no one else.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Where you are (I’ll be)

Word count: 6k

Summary: Theirs is a love that starts out like a seed and it takes two sets of hands tending it for a shoot to appear. There are no dramatic declarations of love, only a pair of hands that find each other again and again and again.

Quote: Oikawa broke off into giggles as Hajime slowed the descent of his hand from a slap to the back of Oikawa’s head to a gentle ruffle of the taller boy’s hair

♡♡with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

Your love is sunlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.

Quote: But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

#haikyuuweek2020 #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #i spent more time on this than all of my edits combined pls appreciate this

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padfootagain · 3 years

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (VIII)

Part 8 : How You Fooled Everyone

Here we go for a new chapter!!! This is a little bit angsty at the beginning BUT it takes another turn completely in the second part and… feel free to come shout at me because… I reckon the end of this chapter will make you want to kill me, indeed :) (but in a good way, you'll see!)

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, no warnings to be applied except for a little bit of angst, but you know me, nothing too terrible!

Tell me what you think of it!

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count : 3913

Holmes Chapel, 2011

10 months.

It was snowing in England. It was the late afternoon and the sun was setting already on Cheshire. The first snow of the year was but a thin layer barely covering the grass, leaving patches of colours amongst its pure white shade. It would probably be gone in the morning, melted by either the weather turning to rain instead of snow, or simply by the temperature not dropping low enough during the night. For now though, lazy snowflakes floated downwards, freefalling softly to land in silence upon the houses of Harry's neighbourhood.

It would be the last Christmas he would spend in this house with his mother and sister. His musical career was growing more and more successful by the day, and with the money he had made during the past year, he had bought his mother a new house. Larger, more comfortable, and one that would be hers for good and she wouldn't have to pay for.

As he looked through his window to your house, he noticed that your light was on. You were there. It was your last year staying here as well. He knew you wanted to go to University to study history. It had been your passion for years. He guessed you'd be off to Manchester, or even London, in a few months.

But ever since Valentine's day, Harry and you had barely spoken to each other. It was such a strange thing to get used to, when, despite the distance, you had always remained close during his first year away from home. Although everything around him was changing, you were still there, answering your phone and telling him about school and all those other people he had grown up with. It kept him grounded. It kept him as himself, somehow.

But then he had gone to your door with this bloody rose and a heart full of lovesick hope, and everything had changed.

10 months had passed since that night, and now that he was back in this room that had seen him grow up, he didn't feel like it was such a long time ago.

After that night, he simply couldn't be around you the way he used to. Somehow, his feelings for you were only more visible since he was aware that they were not reciprocated. He had this aching strumming in his heart everytime he saw you or even merely heard your voice, that reminded him that you didn't see him the way he saw you. It was easier, then, to avoid you altogether so it wouldn't hurt anymore.

Which didn't work so well, because when he didn't talk to you, he missed you. So, he guessed that he had only a choice to make between hell or high water.

But the distance between you made it harder to stay in touch anyway, so it was easier for him to choose this path rather than staying by your side. He fully embraced music, and he embraced the life in the band even though it still seemed crazy to him, and he embraced the truth that he had to forget you.

Finding someone else to love seemed a good way to do so.

And he did. He found someone else to fall head over heels for, and the pain waned slowly with a little time. But it wasn't the same as having you.

Harry grabbed an empty box and started to empty the drawers of his desk. He would probably not be home before his mother would move to the new house, so he wanted to pack as many of his things as he could now, while he had a break from the busy schedule of the band. And he also expected to throw away some of his old stuff he would never be using again. His mother would take whatever they could bring to charity, and he expected to get rid of a lot of useless items thanks to this forced cleaning up.

And he did. He put aside some old toys he would never be using again and wasn't emotionally attached to enough to keep around.

Until he found a certain shoebox that he recognized in the blink of an eye, at the bottom of his closet, under his warmest jumper.

It was old, a shoebox of his mother's size, he remembered now Anne giving it to him years before, picking her new shoes out of it and handing it to him. He remembered the way he grinned and hurried in his bedroom to store a messy mix of items, and he had kept filling up the box along the years.

There were souvenirs from his holidays with his family, a bunch of old toys he loved. Family pictures with his parents and Gemma. He had a smile on his lips as he went through his memories, silly little trinkets he had gathered along the years since he was a little boy. But out of all the memories, he lingered longer on the objects that reminded him of you.

This piece of red glass he used to call you, a piece of paper where he had learned how to write your name, some pictures of you as well, green marbles you had once used to decorate a snowman. He smiled as he picked one up making it twirl between his fingers. It was cold against his skin, glimmering with green hues in the electric light of his bedroom. He remembered that day perfectly. You and him playing in the snow, and fighting in a snowball fight with Gemma and your mothers. Shaping snow with you to form a snowman that, now that he thought about it, was a little wonky-looking. But it looked great to your two childish minds. And he remembered you running from your house with the marbles. Placing them in the snow. Saying that he could keep them as you were going to leave for the holidays. Harry wasn't sure why there were tears in his eyes now, after all, his smile was still there too. But for some reason, holding this tiny token of his past with you, summoning back these happy scenes before his eyes, he felt both happy and sad. Happy about the memories, sad about the present.

He reckoned that he should let you go altogether. That he should throw away the pieces of you that remained in his life. Maybe, getting rid of those memories was the first step he ought to take.

His mother called for him from downstairs, tearing him away from his thoughts. He answered that he was coming, an automatic response that he barely noticed making. His eyes were still fixed on the tiny marble, that seemed much smaller than he remembered. But then, he had grown, and his fingers now were much bigger than when he was but a child.

Maybe throwing it all away would be the first step to forget you.

But did he really want to forget you?

He must have remained stuck at the same place, without being able to move, for a moment too long, for his mother called for him once more. This time, he shook himself out of his thoughts, closed the box, and put it back in his closet, where it belonged.

And as he opened the door to his bedroom, he slipped in the pocket of his jeans the green marble you had given him such a long time ago.

Loch Lomond, 2020

It felt strange.

A good kind of strange.

Harry had listened to your plea, without a doubt, and made a point of staying right by your side during the entire lunch. As everyone settled on their blankets and chatted merrily, Harry didn't let anyone distract him from you. When some of Amy's cousins offered him a drink, he declined, and remained at his spot on your blanket instead.

And when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him, it wasn't really a surprise when your heart skipped a beat.

His sweater was soft and warm against your cheek, and you felt so cosy in his embrace as you chatted with your cousin.

But once the dessert was devoured, and Cassie was pulled somewhere else by your aunt, and your uncle had disappeared somewhere, and your parents were busy as well, you and Harry left alone, he didn't release his hold on you.

Not even a little bit.

He kept you gently pressed against him, a strong arm wrapped around you as if to protect you from the cold. He stretched his long legs across the colourful blanket, his feet resting on the orange and red leaves covering the muddy ground, while he held himself up with one hand thrown behind him. And you followed his movements, your head like glued to his shoulder, readjusting your own position to fit his.

After all, you felt so peaceful in his embrace, why would you want to pull away?

There was no one around, and nobody paying any attention to you. So, considering your agreement, you expected Harry to put more distance between the two of you again. But he didn't. And you wondered why, but didn't complain.

There was no one watching when he bent his head to drop a soft kiss to the top of your head, but he did anyway. Although, you wouldn't have known if anyone was watching, as you had closed your eyes by then, too engulfed in the warmth of his chest against yours, too soothed by the silly patterns his fingers gently traced across your arm, too lost in the scent of his cologne.

You hesitated to rest your hand on his thigh. Because, after all, no one was paying any attention to the two of you, so it was rather useless. But on the other hand, you wanted to touch him, to simply break the physical barrier that had stood between the two of you for so long. You thought you heard his breath get caught in his throat as you finally did so, but then, he didn't move his leg away, so maybe you had been imagining it all.

Still, you looked up at him, slowly turning your head to study his expression, as if half-afraid of what you would read in his green eyes. When your gazes met though, you read the same uncertainty in his coloured irises.

Your heartbeat was less and less steady as seconds passed by, both of you staring at each other. You wanted to say something, but no words would form on your tongue. It was as if your brain had gone blank. You saw his lips parting, as if he was about to say something, but he remained silent as well, merely letting his lower lip tremble for a second, before clenching his jaw instead.

You noticed the way his Adam's apple bobbed more than usual, but again, none of you seemed able to speak, or to move, or to even think...

"Y/N!"

You jumped as your mother's call pulled you back right down to Earth. You pulled out of Harry's embrace in a hurry, quite embarrassed, although you were not sure what had triggered the feeling. You turned to your mother, who was folding a blanket nearby.

"We're going back, let's go, lovebirds!"

You let out a grunt at the silly name she had called you and Harry, but still got up, straightening your clothes before turning back towards your spot to clean up the space and gather all your items before leaving back for the lodge.

Harry, meanwhile, seemed to need a little longer than you to come back to his senses, but he did so anyway. You silently gathered everything, folded the blanket, and joined the rest of the guests back to the shore to use the little boats again.

Harry left you for mere seconds to help someone load a bag in one of the rowboats. But mere seconds were enough for Patrick to have appeared out of nowhere and start a conversation with you. And your fake boyfriend didn't like it at all.

He was jealous. Again. Nothing new. Out of all the feelings he had to control around you, jealousy had always been the hardest one to tame, and your fake relationship wasn't making things easier for him.

There were so many feelings bubbling under his ribcage again, resurrected, it seemed. Feelings he tried to bury as deeply as he could in the darkest parts of his heart, that he tried to forget, that he tried to live without. But this whole plan was making things hard for him to keep going. It was making things hard for him to keep his feelings in check now, he thought he had gotten rid of them a long time ago, but maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it wasn't so. Maybe it wasn't so at all…

Harry heaved a frustrated sigh while he strode back to your side. He was beginning to be particularly annoyed by Patrick and this whole situation, for that matter.

He slipped his hand around your waist, and the gesture seemed familiar, as if he had performed it absentmindedly, as if he had done it thousands of times before. And you couldn't ignore how easy it was for your body to fit perfectly against his, like two pieces of a puzzle locking together.

"Everything's ready, darling," Harry smiled at you, before turning towards Patrick. "Need any help with your stuff?"

"Oh! No, no, thank you," Patrick answered uncomfortably, clearly displeased by Harry's reappearance.

Harry shot him a bright smile, and turned to you once more.

"Then, we should go, my love."

You hated yourself for letting your heart make such a leap into your chest at the pet name, but really, there was nothing you could do against it. The words, spoken in Harry's deep voice, with such a gentle and delicate tone, that hadn't it been for the circumstances and for the fact that you were aware that he didn't mean it at all, you would have even dared to call loving.

He dropped a quick peck to your cheek, before turning his attention to the boat behind you, and you followed his lead, almost forgetting completely Patrick still standing by your side.

You climbed in first, and Harry soon joined you. He spontaneously took the oars, and you didn't protest. You leaned back instead, your face thrown back to face the shy autumnal sun. Despite the cold wind that blew onto the lake, making ripples and tiny waves shake the surface of the quiet loch, the sun was still warm enough to spread across your face a peaceful feeling. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling, and Harry was grateful for it, allowing him to admire you without being noticed. Or at least, not by you, which was all that mattered, really.

"I think we're doing better," you said after a while, more than half of the loch being already crossed, at last turning your attention back to your friend.

"Yeah? More credible?"

"I think so. We should stay on that path."

"Very well, then."

"I hope it doesn't make you too uncomfortable."

"Not at all, it's fine, Y/N."

"Good."

There was a short silence, while you let your eyes roam across the rowboats around you. But then, your gaze settled on Patrick who was in the boat next to yours, alone.

"What do you think of Patrick?" you asked out of the blue.

"What about him?" Harry mumbled.

"What do you think? Do you like him?"

"He seems… nice."

"Yeah, I think so to."

"A shame I'm in the way then. The bridesmaid isn't going to get laid during the wedding."

"Harry!" you frowned, kicking his shin. "What on Earth was that for! You know it's not my style."

You seemed offended. He hated it. Hated seeing any form of hurt across your features. Hated even more himself for being the cause behind it. But he couldn't help it. He was bitter too, and it didn't bring the best in him.

"Come on! It was a joke."

"A bad one."

You heaved a sigh, and remained quiet. But Harry was not done with the conversation, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little deeper than usual, a little hoarse, and surprisingly serious.

"Seriously though, do you like him?"

"Yeah… I think I do," you nodded, after considering the question for a few seconds.

"Do you love him?"

You laughed at that, shaking your head at him.

"Harry… only you are romantic enough to imagine that I could fall in love with someone in just a couple of days!"

"It's not impossible!"

"That kind of love exists only in fairytales. And if it does exist for real, I am immune."

"How can you say that? Ever heard of love at first sight?"

"I can't fall in love with someone like that! In just a moment, without knowing them. I need… time for that kind of stuff."

He considered your answer, and was reassured that your feelings towards Patrick, if you had any, were not serious yet.

"Anyway, I'll see after the wedding, maybe I'll give him a call then. A date could be nice," you went on, and your friend's heart dropped again.

You went on to talk about something else, but Harry had lost his focus on the conversation at hand. You had almost reached the edge of the loch again, and Harry's attention was drawn to Patrick on the boat nearby.

He was handsome, and he was nice, and Harry should have encouraged you. But your friend was jealous, and he was selfish sometimes, like everyone could be, and he simply couldn't help but think that you deserved better. Better than Patrick, and better than himself.

The anger that was slowly yet steadily burning more and more vividly through his veins made him work with the oars faster, not really caring in what direction he was going. He didn't notice that he was heading towards an area filled with fallen branches and large roots of trees that grew along the shore. He didn't notice either the rock that was barely grazing the surface of the water, and neither did you, as you were lost in a one-sided conversation.

It's only when you started to be rocked left and right by the branches you bumped into that you frowned.

"Harry, look out where we're going!"

"I am paying attention."

"We're not even close to the lodges, you went too far to the left."

"In case you hadn't noticed, my back is at the shore," he snapped, and you wondered why he was so grumpy all of a sudden.

Because he had been so fast at pushing the boat forward, you were the first boat to arrive close to the shore, but the obstacles in your way made your progression more and more difficult. And when your boat hit the rock and was pushed in the opposite direction, you lost your balance, falling to the side, and dragging the boat with you.

And the boat turned over.

The water was freezing cold, enough to knock out all the air in your lungs. Enough to make you unable to move for a while. It was the feeling of Harry grabbing your forearm and pulling you upwards that brought you back to the moment, and you broke the surface again, taking in a deep breath.

You found out quickly that the water wasn't deep, and you could stand on your feet, the waterline only reaching your stomach then.

"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" your friend asked, all signs of annoyance now gone and replaced by worry.

You turned to Harry, your teeth already chattering, but shook your head.

"I'm alright. You?"

"Fine. Just… drenched, and very, very cold."

He helped you making your way to the shore, and at each step the two of you took, the angrier at him you became.

"Couldn't you be careful?!" you accused him.

"Sorry."

"Sorry?! Look at us!"

"Well, I didn't do it on purpose, obviously!" he fought back, clenching his jaw, and you weren't sure if it was out of anger, or to prevent his teeth from chattering as the cold wind got caught in your wet clothes, making you feel even colder than before.

Your fingers seemed pierced by hundreds of needles at the contact of the cold air, and your cheeks tickled with the freezing wind too. But you turned to Harry instead of hurrying to shelter.

"I can't believe you! You crashed our boat! I'm freezing!"

"Well, if you were so good with oars, why didn't you take charge, huh? As I'm clearly not capable of doing anything?"

"Certainly not of handling a boat, no! Here is the proof!"

You were interrupted in your rant by a sneeze. Harry had always found it absolutely adorable, the high-pitched sound that you let out when you sneezed. And all of a sudden, his anger subsided, just as quickly as it had formed across his frame. And he wasn't angry. His eyes changed the way they stared at you, with fondness instead of wrath. And a wave of laughter started to bubble in his chest.

And finally, he laughed. Loud and bright, and ridiculously contagious.

You were stopped in your tracks for a moment, staring at him as you were readying your next argument, but instead, were caught off guard by this sound you had always found the most radiant in the world.

And suddenly, the situation didn't anger you anymore either. You realized, on the contrary, how ridiculous the two of you were, drenched and with your jeans covered with mud, as you had fallen into Loch Lomond. It was funny. You had to admit that the whole situation was hilarious. So, helped by how contagious Harry's laugh was, you started to wheeze and then laugh yourself.

"I can't believe you've managed to make us fall," you struggled to let out, bending over in laughter, your arm now clenched over your painful stomach.

"I have no idea!" he doubled with laughter, taking a step towards you, and resting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself. He was laughing so much, he was ready to fall over.

You finally calmed down as you noticed the other guests coming closer, starting to reach the shore as well. All of them were looking at the two of you.

And then, the idea struck you.

They were all looking at the two of you.

When you turned to Harry again, you were not laughing at all anymore.

He dried his eyes where tears had gathered, and he struggled to catch his breath.

"That's one you're gonna use against me for a while!" he chuckled some more, before looking at you again.

"Harry."

"Hmm?"

"I have an idea."

"An idea? What kind of idea? If it involves us getting inside and out of the cold, sign me in."

But you shook your head.

"No, I… Please, don't freak out, and don't push me away. Everyone's looking, that's perfect."

He frowned.

"Y/N, what are talking abou…"

But before he could finish his question, you had taken one more step towards him, and in doing so closing the distance between the two of you. Before he could register what was happening, you were closing your lips upon his.

And you were kissing him.

*************************************************************

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

I’m thinking about writing a short OC piece about Windclan and I’d love to see your notes about its culture and the hymns you’ve written so far, everything you’ve done for Windclan appreciation month has really inspired me :)

hello anon!

alright, first things first: please send me ur piece when ur done if you're comfortable doing so! i will publish it from you, or if you don't want to be associated with it in Any Way, i will also just read it and add it to the queue with no indication why it's there. or if you don't want me to share it at all, i'd still like to read it.

as for your ask,

hymns?

i'm working on it. however, underneath the read more, i'll include a few snippets for u.

culture

alright, i'm just going to post links with some commentary as i go. feel free to ask any more questions you have.

windclan (search) | windclan (tag) | wcam tag | five clans (narrative essays)

i would link the elders den, but there's no windclan stories in there ATM.

moving on, i'm just going to go through posts in reverse chronological order.

tallstar taking a mate admittedly, this is more about cats and sexuality than windclan, but i provide the commentary that windclan...has a particular view on sexuality and fluidity. one thing i haven't explored but should is the role visiting cats have in windclan.

whoops that's a code word, my plug for solacefruit has been activated. okay, as you may be aware, based on the fact that i have a whole tag for it, i'm obsessed with solacefruit. now, i love everything they do, but i would like to point you particularly to "make a mighty sound" for a fantastic exploration of this idea.

i don't want to spoil anything, but i do think windclan, and maybe cats as a whole, but windclan has a certain view towards relationships that very much breaks them into pieces. i'm a "love is a verb" person, so the idea that you can grow to love someone romantically by going through the actions of love makes sense. not to say you will, but you can.

(to be clear i'm not out advocating for arranged marriages just saying that they can work, they're not destined to be bad, and there's a difference between forced marriage and arranged marriage.)

anyway.

this was a lot of words to say, cats do not have a human (and particularly, western/american) understanding of relationships, which makes analyzing them in those terms difficult.

early hymn talk i'll probably say more below, but it is here.

general ibtwicm notes might get you into the headspace for some of my choices in ibtwicm.

i don't have a ton to say because this pretty much all holds, but uh, yeah.

poetry and language this isn't strictly about windclan, but it does explain some of what i think about when writing hymns.

obviously, i'm writing english translations, but these general themes are what i have in mind. it's also part of why i say i don't think i'll ever release a "full hymnal" for windclan, because i don't know if my weak worldbuilding heart could take it if i only had translations.

names part two very much not about windclan, but just some thoughts on names. as i've said before, i support all names and worldbuilding equally, but if you want my thoughts on names, go buckwild.

clan culture fic rec list just stuff i think does a good job, if you want other sources of inspiration.

general clan culture notes this is really old, but it mostly holds.

i've obviously expanded a lot on windclan since i wrote it, so shrug? idk man.

alright, i'm going to move into hymn discussion below the cut, but best of luck! and i hope u have a good time. it makes my brain shut down to read that i inspired you, straight up got brain juice pouring out of my ears, but i'm really, really happy to hear that.

windclan holds a special place in my heart. (i know my oc avatar is from skyclan shhh it's because of the backstory he sees ghosts.) but i grew up in this super sporty household as a lil asthmatic klutz, and running was a sport i couldn't mess up, so of course windclan appealed to me.

they're actually third on my list of favorite clans, but they. it's a special place in my heart that they hold, especially after reading dawn of the clans and moth flight's vision, where i got an asthmatic cat and an adhd cat, both in windclan.

god i should reread dotc it's good.

alright, here's the deal on hymns: i am not going to fight to get duets to post correctly. there's a 0% chance i can in tumblr's wonky ass new editor with no markdown, not to mention how difficult it would have been in the old editor. so i'm going to talk a lil about what i've got, and post some stanzas that i think don't get explored a lot in ibtwicm.

we're discussing these in the order that they go in. a reminder that these are all sections of one epic poem. that said, i don't know where the gaps are. like, i don't know what's between these, if that makes sense.

the wind

the wind, the very first hymn. this is an ode to, well, windclan. it's a song about everything that makes them them. it's filled with poetry about the wind, about the seasons, and it's just...well, it's a bit of a genesis, in a way.

The wind — like the rain, like the river — calls the name of each star in its breath. The wind — like the earth, like the stone — anchors us to our home. The wind — like the sun, like the sky — is knowable only by name.

i wanted to share this stanza because the last line doesn't show up in ibtwicm (at least so far, i cut the reference), and it really, really, makes a difference imo.

anyway, windclan is basically tying the wind in with every other fundamental part of their life here.

they are the wind, and that's that.

the hare

okay, this one has a line that comes up a lot in ch1, but i already talked about that, so instead, i'm going to talk about this stanza

Speak of the earth and the dens, and you will be answered: By the call of the howling gales, the open earth singing in response. But speak of that which grows above, of the grass and field, And you will be answered by the softness of the buds and the roots.

okay, we get deadfoot thinking about this when he's talking to yellowfang.

i like this stanza because it really tells us what the hare is about. now, hares are not something windclan catches. hares are huge, y'all, there's no way they take one down. i take liberties with ecology, but not that many.

(i.e., a team of cats definitely could take one down, but i know too much, and would prefer letting team hunting stay a plot thing, and not fundamentally alter the environment in the way it would.)

now anyway, all of these hymns come from the time of the tunnelers. and the point of this is, even though the work of tunnelers and moor runners is disconnected, they fundamentally affect each other.

a moor runner must trust the hollows of the earth beneath them won't collapse, and a tunneler must trust that the prey they chase up will be caught.

it's all very symbiotic and is, well, in a way, a love poem. plus i really like the line "the open earth singing in response"

of the warrens

so this has one line, one you might not even know is a hymn, in ch1, but i'll share the whole stanza.

And as for the subject of fallow fields: Fallowed fields make for hungry prey, Yet hungry prey makes desperate rabbits, Who leap into our claws.

and ig my big point is, the hymns are a cultural artifact. just like many of the rules in the old testament have to do with hygiene things being codified into religion, this whole hymn is about hunting advice.

the moon on the river

okay, out of all the hymns, this is the most complete, and because ashfoot and deadfoot sing it together, and deadfoot discusses it, i only have one stanza to share.

Under the coldness, you shine back at me, And I do everything to keep the clouds from threatening you.

now, this poem is about love, grief, and being separated. it's a particular kind of grief, and windclan discourages grief, so this is one of only a few ways to really, fully express it.

and this section, in particular, is about love in times of hardship.

i don't have. a lot to say here. but the way hardship changes how you love someone can be particular and intense.

(temporarily, this happens sometime before "Spare for my chosen few / All I have is given towards the distant ground.")

the gorse in the wind

oh shit! i have so fucking much to say okay first.

the series title does not come from this hymn.

second, this is a challenging hymn okay. fuck. i have so much to say. where to start so! moors are actually relatively wet. think british countryside, not, like, a cool desert.

this is something i always knew? i read the secret garden a lot as a kid. but. i've seen stuff about moors being dry, and it's just one of those things that really...starts to eat under your skin. anyway.

okay, so. gorse is a dry plant. it does not like rain. it grows in sandy soil, etc etc, and yet. aside from everything we know about gorse and warriors, it also grows in this moor. because i say so.

okay, so. so so so. the lines quotes here are really deceptive, and i bet no one understood why, and that makes me just a little sad, but i couldn't find a good way to explain it in text, so uh, yeah, anyway. there's an exchange between ashfoot and deadfoot: "THE GORSE: You called me the heather and I grew stronger. / THE WIND: I called you the heather and brought rain for you to grow."

so...so do you see? do you see the point? it's about communication, needs, challenging each other. fadskj;l i love this. okay, so. the point is that heather is fragile, soft, pretty, and gorse is the opposite. the part of the wind is trying to be kind and complimentary, but the gorse is saying, fuck that, you are not being kind to me by undercutting my strength.

anyway, this passage is sung by the gorse:

In what good company have I set down roots, That even through snow fall I flower. You called me the heather and yet I've weathered, Far more than your sweet-named love.

so uh, yeah, this adds context. gorse! gorse is a hardy plant that continues to flower basically all season round. it's cool. it's cool. gorse is super cool. fuuuck y'all it's such a small thing and i've contained talking about it until now, but now it's too much. the floodgates are open, and i thought about this small detail too much.

okay. deep breath. gorse is a really easy plant to grow, but it's still adapted for dry environments. so the "even through snow fall I flower" part is a little tongue in cheek: gorse itself will flower in the cold, but snow is a type of precipitation, which as we've covered, is not gorse friendly.

then we have some rhyming and puns in the next line, and finally, "yet I've weathered, / Far more than your sweet-named love." like. yes. love as a form of softness is not necessarily helpful.

i mean, consider the damaging "soft trans boi" problem. same energy.

right. okay. so we've got all that? now if you remember, this is sung when deadfoot thinks ashpaw doesn't respect him, and ashpaw says she'll sing with him if she can sing the gorse, so in essence, she's telling him...not to back off, per se, but that...she is the "hard part" of the relationship. like, okay, i refuse to even bring up gender roles in human relationships, but uh, her point is very much, "i am the gorse, and you are the wind," and it's a very monumental moment.

it's anchored, i believe, in the other scenes, but this is a small thing that matters a lot to me.

like a lot.

okay, now that i've talked about like four lines for the length of this entire post, moving on.

the heather and earth

okay, this is the last hymn i have in concrete terms, and i cut a bit of it from the latest chapter, so yeah. it's also, uh, okay everything i have for it is only a line or two, but i wanted to share this closing line (sung together):

Sing a song of forgiveness, of growing together, and we will make madness, And madness from hence will everything beautiful grow.

and i just like these lines. they got cut, it was initially part of an exchange between ashfoot and deadfoot, but i can't share the part of it they talk about, because i'm reusing it for a later chapter and i'll 100% spoil shit if i try to talk about it.

but these lines? mmm they speak to me.

i don't have a ton to say about them, but i just. i like it.

if we apply the same ecology discussion from the gorse and the wind, we see heather is a plant that grows in acidic, infertile soil, and heath (which is not the same as a heather, but also kind of is) is a defining quality of heathland, which is...i'm not kidding, it's hot discourse about the difference between moorland and heathland.

i'm not getting involved, but my point is, if the gorse in the wind is a hymn about finding a working relationship, about mutual respect, etc., then the heather and earth is a hymn about working well together in a terrible situation.

god.

uh, wow! can you tell i like plants? because while parts of my ecology are dubious (see: everything regarding the rabbits in ch1), the plants part are well thought out. this shit is carefully detailed metaphor.

and that's why i won't be releasing a full hymnal. it's hard to as on top of this as i want to be. i'm not kidding, writing even four lines of a hymn usually takes me about twenty minutes, because i pull up a lot of research about how things work, how they interact with each other, etc., and then there's wordsmithing, cat worldview filter, etc.

but i hope this overview of what i've got is a good insight into my general thoughts. and i will eventually release more and more of the hymns i've got written.

#ask #anon #mine #txt #windclan #wcam #essay #long #warriors #warriors worldbuilding #windclan hymn project #mateo fanboying over solacefruit again

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snkpolls · 3 years

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SnK Episode 68 Poll Results (for Manga Readers)

The poll closed with 146 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Manga Readers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll, click here.

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RATE THE EPISODE 140 Responses

The anime continues its positive streak with just over 90% of respondents rating the episode a 4 or 5. MAPPA appears to be blowing this season out of the water for most of us!

Noice

Good!

I liked it

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 144 Responses

We got a pretty mixed pie chart this week. To be expected, given how many moments were in this episode. At a tie with the largest pieces of the pie were Hange’s eccentric attempt to greet the Marleyans and Eren’s gunshot figuratively hitting Sasha. Behind that two more options tied in each with 10.4% of the vote - EMA’s conversation at the shooting range and Sasha appreciating Nicolo’s cooking. This is followed closely by Eren’s mirror scene with 9.7% of the vote. Onyankopon explaining why he looks different when Sasha asks him about it took a solid 9% of the vote.

WHAT WAS THE MOST EMOTIONAL PART OF THE VISIT TO SASHA’S GRAVE? 144 Responses

This was almost too close to call, but Mikasa sitting alone managed to edge out just slightly over Connie’s “I’ve lost half of me” moment at Sasha’s grave. Trailing behind the two were Nicolo’s grief and the agreement between Papa Braus agreeing to a free meal from Nicolo.

AFTER SEVERAL TENSE AND ACTION PACKED EPISODES, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE TRANSITION TO SOMETHING MORE CALM? 138 Responses

The larger chunk of respondents are feeling relieved to get a break from the action for a few episodes. 21.7% prefer the action but don’t mind a break here and there, while 21% state that they enjoy the exposition more than the action anyway, so they are content. A small handful don’t care either way.

We needed this for another build-up to more action

I like the action but it’s important to move the story along

These just feel mandatory fillers to me.

I miss the warriors

I feel fine with it. I thought that was going to be some happy-go-me episode, but gladly it still had a serious tones.

This episode felt like a very welcome respite after the absolute shitshow that was spoilers week and....whatever the fuck chapter 137 was.

Nice breather of sorts, I always like seeing characters from action-heavy series in their downtime.

WOULD YOU RATHER GET A SURPRISE GREETING FROM EREN & HANGE, OR ARMIN & LEVI? 141 Responses

The vast majority of respondents would prefer the slightly less lethal greeting given by Hange and Eren at the beginning of the episode. We’re not sure if the other 29.1% are masochists or just really love Levi and/or Armin that much more. Or perhaps they’re intrigued by the pig piss from the filthy island devils.

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW HAPPY ARE YOU TO BE BACK ON PARADIS? 139 Responses

Overall, fans are happy to be back in familiar territory and put into the perspective of the Survey Corps again. Let’s get ready to rumble!

MAPPA HAS SPRINKLED IN ANIME-ONLY ADDITIONS THROUGHOUT THE EPISODE. AS A WHOLE, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THEM? 139 Responses

Though subtle, MAPPA did include some anime filler (such as Eren’s, erm, mouth breathing). 51.1% enjoyed the noticeable additions, while 37.4% are completely confused by the question and didn’t realize there were any. A handful generally don’t prefer additions but enjoyed what little ones we had this episode. A small sliver didn’t care for them.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SCENES FROM CHAPTER 107 THAT WERE PEPPERED IN BETWEEN THE MOMENTS FROM CHAPTER 106? 139 Responses

MAPPA is shuffling things around to pick up the pacing of this arc, and 48.2% of respondents are feeling very positively about it. 38.8% also feel that both the order of events in the original manga and the anime work out just fine regardless. A couple of smaller groups either felt that things were a bit off from the manga, or didn’t really care either way.

I think it's great because it allows an episode to start and end on the same chapter if mappa ever wanted it, allowing the right twists or cliffhangers to be in the right episodes, all WITHOUT having to slow down, which I wholly appreciate.

I'm fine with the changes. Mappa is doing good job.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE CHANGE OF GABI BITING HER NAIL AND ANGRILY SAYING EREN’S NAME IN HER JAIL CELL? 142 Responses

Nearly half of voters feel that both MAPPA’s take and Isayama’s original take work just fine for Gabi’s character. 28.9% prefer the anime’s take on Gabi’s reaction to all that happened, while 14.8% feel that her more defeated posture in the manga makes more sense for her character.

I'm a mix of both? Her defeated posture implies that she's not happy with the way things worked out with them in jail and Zeke betraying them. On the other hand, her angry face is realistic to the scene too because it implies she really blames Eren for their current predicament.

She looks like some female version of young, angry Tarzan. This time Mappa should have kept the original postures, because the defeated Gabi feels to be more realistic, than the crazy anime one.

I think they both work but the anime's take might be the anime team beating us over the head that she's just like Eren when he was young.

Makes it clear to the anime-onlies that she really is psychotic

Gabi sucks

HOW WELL DO YOU THINK MAPPA NAILED THE TRANSITION OF EREN SHOOTING THE GUN, TO SASHA TAKING THE HIT? 141 Responses

The response to MAPPA’s take on Eren’s shot inadvertently hitting Sasha was overwhelmingly positive, with only a few people saying that they could have done better with it.

Eren shot linked to Sasha's death was awesome. Mappa is nailing it!

THE PART WHERE JEAN, SASHA AND CONNIE ARE TRYING TO GUESS WHAT A PORT IS WAS CUT OUT, WITH ARMIN’S NARRATION INSTEAD CUTTING INTO THE SCENE. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT IT? 140 Responses

Exactly 50% felt that while having that JSC characterization would have been very much welcome, they’re okay with that small detail missing from the manga (granted, it was at least acknowledged by one panel being animated). 25.7% have a more nonchalant response, stating that if it helps with the pacing, they’re fine with small cuts like this. 10.7% are just let down by JSC’s lack of characterization in the anime overall and didn’t appreciate even more being taken from their characterization in this episode.

I was more so interested in our Paradis Peeps talking about newly discovered technology but I’m happy with what we got.

Not dissappointed since I understand you can't show everything but I love them so sad

Why was it animated then?! I’m so confused

Normally I don't like it when they cut corners like this, but I wasn't fond of that scene in the first place so it's okay.

If by "anime" you mean the entirety of it including the past 3 seasons, then option 3. I'm always going to be salty about how much they took out or changed for these three during the uprising arc. So far mappa has done okay with them, I guess.

Would have been a funny JSC moment, but it was really absolutely pointless. In manga format it works as just background words on a panel. Animating it takes seconds of an episode that could be used elsewhere. So I'm fine with it being cut out.

SOME HAVE COMPLAINED THAT THE ENDING SCENE OF EREN REPEATING HIS MANTRA INTO THE MIRROR LACKED THE IMPACT IT HAD IN THE MANGA. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT? 138 Responses

43.5% were receptive of the anime only shots, but favor the way the scene was portrayed in the manga more. 34.1% felt that both versions were done well, with only 9.4% feeling that the impact was largely the same (if not better). Based on the write-ins, the main complaint seems to be the lighting/color scheme of the scene not quite meeting expectations, or that MAPPA made Eren’s back look weird.

theyll make up for it when eren screeches at hange next ep

Impact was there, art just felt a bit wonky and toned down the scene overall. 9/11

This goes into my criticism of the color palette and shading style mappa uses, which is far more subdued. The contrast is lowered and the scene is very dark, and there is little rim lighting, so while the actual lineart has far more detail, the detail in the lighting is reduced. Damn I really am writing a wall text aren't I? I prefer Wit Studio's art style a lot but Mappa has honestly been doing great so I couldn't care less, manbun Eren is hot.

I prefer the manga version. I think the anime version have weirds shadows in eren's back. Plus the mirror don't have the same energy, less impactful

Cool scene in the anime, an unforgettable blow to the brains in the manga

Idk

Most of the time seeing things for the first time is what's really impactful. Feel this way towards Armin's transformation in the boat as well. It was definitely less impactful than when you first read it in the manga.

I understand the fandom because this moment was very popular when the chapter was out. I think that in the anime Eren lacks the anger he had in the manga. His voice was too calm while repeating his mantra. .

WHY DOES HIS BACK LOOK LIKE THAT

I didn't care for it in the anime, it was really underwhelming.

I think most people are annoyed about the lighting than the impact. It’s a bit too dim and the lamp hides Eren’s new hair.

Didn't like the anime version at all

The animation wasn't good and they totally fucked his hair, face, and body up. Although the added shots were definitely welcome.

Eren could've been sexier/animated better, I hope they do better next ep 😭

WE WILL ASK YOU AGAIN. HOW WILL THE ANIME DEAL WITH MIKASA’S HIZURU TATTOO/SYMBOL? 135 Responses

With Mikasa meeting Kiyomi presumably being inevitable in episode 69, we wondered if any opinions had changed on this. 34.1% feel hopeful that the tattoo will be retconned into the anime and that we will see this scene faithful to the manga. 28.9% think that Mikasa will happen to have some kind of embroidery on hand already. 25.9% don’t want to make a call either way, and a small handful think Mikasa’s going to just pull out an embroidery kit and go with it, lol.

The embroidery will be on the inside of her bandage.

Japanese are very taboo about tattoos because of the Yazuka... it will 100% be the embroidery.

I don't know but I hope it gets retconned. Never liked the embroidery thing.

It won't be included

Let’s just... ignore it..

I really really hope MAPPA retcons Mikasa's tattoo next episode. This will be the one retcon I will absolutely celebrate. Plus, it's not really a retcon if they're just amending Wit's changes.

WE WILL ASK YOU AGAIN, AGAIN. WITH THE PACING CURRENTLY UTILIZED BY MAPPA, WHERE WILL EPISODE 16 END? 137 Responses

Uncertainty continues to loom over exactly how far MAPPA will get into this (first half of the?) season. Nearly 40% don’t want to make predictions one way or another, while 23.4% feel that it won’t make it quite to chapter 122. The rest believe it will make it to chapter 122, with 17.5% feeling there will only be minor cuts, if any, and the remaining 13.1% feeling that there will be major cuts to make the feat to chapter 122.

116 (?) when the allied force attack paradis

122 with the amount of cuts being somewhere in between. They can cut a lot of the Gabi and Falco plotline and still have the story remain intact.

See, I'm not sure buy I'm also worried and curious about it all. It brings up the question of will the story continue in a possible second half of the season? With the manga ending very soon now, it makes sense to have the story wrap up in its anime medium as well. Fees like there's some kind of uncertainty surrounding this, it's unnerving tbh.

119 with Eren's head being blown off.

gabi no scoping eren, ending creds is eren entering paths and we see ymir standing behind him, s4p2 starts w the ymir backstory

121

No idea and I don't think about it. I just enjoy the show.

Your guess is as good as mine, I'm still fearing major cuts.

119

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT NICOLO’S PORTRAYAL? 138 Responses

With Nicolo now formally introduced in the anime, we were curious how you felt about his portrayal. Overall the reaction was positive, with 48.6% agreeing that he’s a “cutie pie chef”, and another 45.7% feeling that his design and seiyuu are absolutely great! A small handful were less happy with the voice, but happy with the design, and a sliver went in the opposite direction, preferring voice over animation.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE ADDED DETAIL OF THE FLOWER BOQUETS AND THEIR SYMBOLISM ON SASHA’S GRAVE? 140 Responses

Respondents vastly appreciated the flower symbolism from MAPPA with 82.9% of the pie. 12.9% aren’t really sure what symbolism there even was, and a small amount either don’t care or felt the effort could have been spent on something other than flowers for Sasha.

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 143 Responses

This pie chart wound up being almost eerily even. 42.7% are most looking forward to the 104th discussing Eren (hopeful for the train flashback?). 39.9% instead are looking more forward to Hange and Eren’s tense conversation at his jail cell. The remaining three preview moments were pretty evenly split as well.

DO YOU THINK WE’LL GET BLUSHING!104TH NEXT EPISODE? 130 Responses

71.5% feel that there is a chance we will get the train flashback of the 104th in this episode, but don’t want to say for absolutely certain. 18.5% feel that it is a guarantee based on what we saw in the preview. 10% feel it is instead guaranteed that we will NOT get the scene in 69.

WE WILL LIKELY SEE PREGNANT HISTORIA NEXT EPISODE. THOUGHTS? 140 Responses

The plotline that continues to be a frustrating mystery in the manga - Historia’s pregnancy. 34.3% aren’t particularly looking forward to seeing her in the rocking chair and aren’t very stoked about having to relive this plotline all over again. 33.6% mainly just care about seeing how the anime only fans react to the scene. 17.9% just miss Historia altogether and will take any scraps they can get. And a small handful, at 9.3%, are actually looking forward to seeing anime!Historia with a baby bump.

Don't really care about historia

It's in MAPPA's hands now. I just hope they can add a little more of her screentime somehow.

I hope so. I want to see the design of her adult self.

I honestly wouldn't mind if Historia's entire arc, which consists of equal parts pregnancy, irrelevance and uselessness, is just completely cut in the anime lol

not interest

I'm not interested

I've hated this fucking plot line with all my being and what it's done to Historia since the leaks for this chapter were revealed years ago. So I'm not looking forward to anime-only people jumping in with their hot takes too. 🤮🤮

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

mikasa was shown in sasha's grave in the morning/afternoon and then she was shown again at dusk. SHE SPENT THE WHOLE DAY THERE. and annie... what a queen. and hisu's few scenes? so pretty.

Really glad the pacing was well done

nicosasha ship just flew in and took the spotlight

fantastic!! maybe it's just because this isn't my first time going through this arc anymore, but i feel like the anime feels chronologically less confusing than the manga—I remember being very confused my first time reading these chapters.

The lack of score by Hiroyuki Sawamo is negatively impacting my relationship with the anime. The depth of the emotion that could have been evoked was not present. I also did not get the sense that Nicolo and Sasha were in love, which was a major disappoinment. There were other aspects that weren't so bad, though; specifically, Levi's portrayal and Onyankopon's philosophy.

It felt a bit all over the place, but just seeing things from the manga being animated, I ain’t even mad.

I think that the scene between Sasha and Nicolo was made better in the anime. Isayama has problems with writing romantic moments, so in the manga the whole moment looked like it was taken from some light romance. Mappa made this scene more serene. I liked it.

I think MAPPA is doing so great tbh! I just need them to hurry up and explain if there will be a part two to this final season or what?! I need to know if we get more anime or they'll diverge into movies or.... just tell us! Lol!

How DAREEEE they not give Levi his black steed!!!! .....Although knowing what happens ummm yeah maybe his pony gets to live another day this way lol

Here comes the train wreck, choo choo!

I'm really sad I didn't get to hear Sasha call Jean a perv. I was really looking forward to that. LOL I love them. When EMA were at the shooting range, it looked too much like Mikasa wasn't wearing any pants.

VERY solid. Not the biggest fan of the War for Paradis arc but I'm here for the ride.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 128 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who participated!

#snk poll #snk polls #snk spoilers #snk s4 #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

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Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today.

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults.

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet.

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off.

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder.

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again.

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply.

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown.

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it.

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window.

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind.

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is.

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes.

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls.

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately.

God, why do I have to have a conscious.

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head.

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression.

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you.

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.”

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes.

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?”

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too.

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face.

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little.

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?”

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.”

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her.

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her.

“What do you miss about him?”

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining.

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?”

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.”

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?”

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.”

“Thats sweet.”

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.”

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.”

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder.

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it.

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you.

“Yeah...thanks.”

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?”

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.”

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces.

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.”

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her.

“The bin...in the cafeteria.”

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.”

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor.

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.”

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised.

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.”

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up.

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before.

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.”

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen.

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out.

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs.

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him.

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle.

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom.

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?”

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you.

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?”

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.”

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-”

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.”

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed.

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.”

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies.

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees.

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically.

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.”

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes.

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.”

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology.

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.”

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms.

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-”

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.”

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica.

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him.

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh.

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her.

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.”

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up.

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.”

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl.

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject.

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands.

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before.

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother.

“Hi.” She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down.

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?”

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter.

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.”

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes.

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.”

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating.

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off.

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you.

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out.

“How old are you?” You huff.

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”

“Shut up!”

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you.

She liked you.

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you.

And you? Well, you were none the wiser.

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them.

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet.

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies.

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.”

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.”

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.”

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.”

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them.

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face.

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.”

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade.

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?”

“Ye-”

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you.

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom.

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.”

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.”

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips.

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little.

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again.

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be.

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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hillnerd · 4 years

Note

(for the ask meme) I'm a huge Romione shipper, but a little part of me ships Ron x Luna - any thoughts about it?

He’d always been a bloke who was a good time, who was there to cheer people up, and generally wasn’t much for exploring the darker deeper recesses of his mind if he could avoid it.

Every time he did it was like falling into a deep pond, arms tied behind his back. Eventually he’d be able to struggle and kick his way to the surface, but it was a hard slog and one he’d rather NOT do, thank you very much.

He couldn’t help but fall into that pond after the war. It would happen at the oddest times. He’d be at a park and a girl would scream out and laugh as her boyfriend grabbed her from behind, and all he could hear was Hermione’s screams when she was being tortured. Someone would approach him from behind and he’d be half a second from hexing them. Watery sadness kept encroaching, only instead of a pond, it felt like a great ocean.

He found a tsunami bearing down on him at Hogwarts. He’d gone there to help clean up and rebuild the school. He’d once known every hallway of Hogwarts, but with all the spell damage and blasted apart walls, he found it a lot harder to recognize where he was. He was alone when he turned a corridor and felt the air whoosh out of him. The rubble and detritus was mostly in the same places they’d been that night. Behind that piece of armor was where Percy and Harry had stowed Fred’s dead body. And right where the wall was caved inward were giant blocks and a dark stain that had once been crimson blood.

His knees felt weak and his stomach lurched. Without thought he ran for it, not stopping until he was next to the lake splattering sick on the ground. He gasped until finally his breaths finally evened out. He was about to stand when he felt something nuzzle at his side.

He gave a start and fell over as he saw a tiny skeletal creature with vacant white eyes. It looked like someone had taken a grey baby hippogriff, plucked it, and mummified it. Its skin was slightly reptilian and clung to its bones in a disturbing manner. With a ‘whoosh’ it opened its leathery wings and a current of air pushed Ron’s fringe back.

“It’s a baby Thestral,” said an airy voice. He whipped his head over to see Luna Lovegood. Her long blonde hair in a plait with some sort of onion tied on at the end, and her large grey eyes were fixed on him with more piercing clarity than he was used to from her.

He turned back to the tiny Thestral and saw a full herd of them milling about near the trees. He’d not been able to see them as he rode them to the Ministry, and he’d not been able to see them when he’d flown beside them last summer. Now he’d be able to see them the rest of his life.

“They probably came out because of your cut.”

“Cut?” he croaked.

The thestral foal came forward, sniffing at Ron’s arm. Sure enough he had a small wound on his left arm. It wasn’t terribly deep, but a good amount of blood was beginning to pool down to his hand. He hadn’t even noticed. The foal gave a tentative lick along Ron’s arm that he twitched away from the creature.

“Thestral spit doesn’t do anything bad, does it?” he asked her.

“Not that I’m aware of. Though if they drool a lot it can be hard to get out of your robes,” she said coming forth to look more closely at the foal. “Would you like me to heal your arm?”

Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he did want Luna Lovegood to heal his arm. He liked her an awful lot, especially since she seemed very capable of trouncing Death Eaters as well as anyone, but he knew nothing about her spell work beyond that.

“I’m rather good at healing spells,” she blithely explained. Her smile had ever so slightly hardened. She had done that when he complimented her after she did the Quidditch commentary his sixth year. His doubt in her must have shown on his face.

“Sorry,” he apologized, holding up his arm. “Yeah, heal away.”

She nodded and quickly healed his arm, before turning her large eyes back to the thestral. The dozy little beast looked disappointed, despite its pupiless eyes, and scuffled away towards its herd.

“Thanks,” said Ron, flexing his arm and finding it healed almost as good as new. “Would have been a real cinch to have you with us last year. We never knew healing charms besides Episkey.”

“None of you did?” Her large grey eyes somehow were wider than usual.

“Er, not really. Bottle of dittany was the go-to… The thestrals would have loved me when I got splinched.”

“Your fingers?” she said pointing to his missing fingernails. Most people didn’t notice his mangled fingers, it was so subtle. The topside of his fingers had been sliced clean off, and hadn’t grown back. It was all flesh and a bit sunken where his nails used to be.

“Yeah, and my shoulder,” he said, giving it a shrug.

“Do you have trouble picking up things?”

“Why’d you ask that?” he asked, tone sharper than it should have been. Ron stood to his full height and squinted his eyes at her. He’d had a lot of trouble with his left hand not working well since the splinching, but so far literally no one had noticed. He’d done a good job covering it up.

“Well, I use fingernails to help me pick up fine things, and you’re right handed.”

Ron let out a breath. Good, no one knew about his left arm being wonky.

“Missing fingernails mostly make scratching itches a pain. I keep forgetting and having to change hands,” he said, before looking down at his arm again. “How’d you get so good at healing spells anyways?”

“I had to get good at them with the Carrows in the school.” She said this as if she was commenting on the weather. She and Ginny didn’t have any scars that he could see, but Neville had a good number. If he had to guess, they’d been the ones doing a lot of the healing spells for the DA. He had to wonder how she could be so blasé about her experiences at Hogwarts when she’d been through so much the past year. She’d been that way at Shell Cottage too, though he hadn’t been of a mind to notice her much then.

“So, er… How’s your house coming along?”

“It’s still exploded, but Daddy’s got a tent he’s been staying in for now.”

“You in the tent too?”

She shook her head and gave another of her seemingly serene smiles. Ron was catching a bit more onto what that meant.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. We can clean up a bit here,” he said, spelling some more splintered trees into a pile. The pile was a bit unstable, then suddenly righted itself. He glanced over to Luna who was gracefully waving her wand.

They quietly worked side by side, moving rubble, trees and large divots of dirt the size of his father’s feral Ford Anglia.

He looked over to Luna’s pile and gave a snort before all-out laughing. She’d managed to make one that looked an awful lot like Hagrid, branches comprising his beard and hair.

He had a lot less artistic finesse than Luna, but made a passable Harry, using a literal birds’ nest for the hair. She gave a lyrical little laugh.

They made a whole slew of figures, one more grandiose than the last.

By the ends of it they were smeared in dust and sweating, but the grounds were looking something like they had before, beside the silly dirt clod figurines. He grinned over at her.

“It was nice to have your help.”

“It’s nice to see you smile again,”

It was nice to have a reason to.

#Anonymous #ron weasley #luna lovegood #can read as friendship or shippy #you choose

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