#Meet me at the pillar is such a good song even if extremely call to action | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

x0401x · 4 years

Text

Animate Times Interview with Centimillimental

Discussing his journey so far and his love for this series, saying that he “felt something like fate” upon coming across “Given”! Interviewing Centimillimental, who did the theme songs and sound production of the summer anime “Given”.

The artist Centimillimental composed the opening of the TV anime “Given”, which aired in Fuji TV’s Noitamina and gathered a great amount of attention. Garnering comments about the sound production of the show’s band, Given, he released the opening theme “Kizuato” as a single on September 11!!

This is the debuting work of the solo unit Centimillimental, in which Atsushi-san does the vocals, keyboard, guitar and programming. In this article, which is surprisingly his first-ever interview, we shall introduce plenty of his journey until reaching this point and his thoughts regarding “Given”!

His current style was earned through “wanting to express joy and sorrow with music” as much as possible.

——Thank you for your time today!

This is actually my first time being interviewed (laughs). I will be in your care.

——Your first interview?! Please let us ask all kinds of questions. Firstly, could you tell us about the origins of Centimillimental?

Although it has the name Centimillimental, this is a solo unit. Rather than a singer and songwriter, I am more of a solo artist with a band stance. But it was originally a band. The band name remained just the way it was... that is all.

——What sort of band was it?

A four-piece one, with myself in charge of the vocals and keyboard. The band had a style close to pop, with a lead guitar, bass and drums, but the members pulled out one after another... Ultimately, I was the only one left. For that reason, people from the live concert houses were quite uneasy. Like, “Does the vocalist have a nasty personality or something?” (laughs).

——(Laughs) That is so not true.

Each one quit for their own reasons. But I had an obsession with the band, so I was like, “I’ll do this even if it’s just out of stubbornness” (laughs). And so, the band name stayed.

——Atsushi-san, what are the roots of your admiration for bands?

My root is Remioromen. I actually used to play classic music. I was so much of a classics boy that I would... turn off the TV whenever a music program was starting, but when (an insert song) “Konayuki” started playing in the drama “1 Liter no Namida”, which I watched back in fifth grade, it had an impact on me. Like, “So a singing voice can be this cool when it accompanies a melody”. From then on, I began looking up to bands.

——How did you handle classics from that point onward?

I continued playing for a long time, until I was around 20 years old. But then I was charmed by pop music and could no longer dedicate myself to classics (strainer laugh). I used to dream of becoming a pianist, but I felt that the mindsets of classics and pop were different, and then chose the way of pop.

——When you think about it now, what do you believe to have been the reason that a classics boy had his heart stolen by pop?

I had the feeling... that something more essential for my inspiration was set on fire, so to say. I think this something also exists for people who like classic, but in my case, I personally felt joy at the fact that “their singing voice is cool”, “their words pierce me”. So I was like, “This is what I actually prefer”. Also, I was drawn to the freedom of pop. The world of classics is devoted to music sheets, so in concourses, for example, it is important whether or not you can play true to the sheets, but I end up playing the way I want to on my own accord. Which is why the judges’ votes became worse year after year (bitter laugh). During this, there were also people who told me, “This is an insult”... But if I were in a world of originals where I could give birth to my own songs, wouldn’t my beliefs be justice? So I started to think that I was “the kind of person who wants to express himself freely”. To begin with, I have liked creating things since the distant past. I used to write stories of my own and making picture books with them in preschool, and from first grade on, I would be writing song compositions and poems. At any rate, I like creating things, so wouldn’t making them freely suit me better?

——So, if it is on the topic of “wanting to create things freely”, the way you are now is best, in a sense?

That is right (laughs). My degree of freedom has increased ever since I went solo. One of the reasons the band did not work was that my ideals and the image of my unshakable, inertial nature were very strong. I believe that so-called bands are supposed to get together in a studio and consolidate and gather up arrangements, but right as we formed ours, I would take the stance of writing down everyone’s parts and saying, “I want you to play this”. So I think that the current Centimillimental is what turned out from me doing everything I could, the place that I was supposed to reach.

youtube

——Nowadays, you are in charge of all parts, right? Did you play instruments other than piano from the start?

That is not the case. When our guitarist left the band, I did not want the quality of our music to be reduced, so I thought about supplementing it somehow, then learned how to play guitar. Also, I had to put my heart into it, but I started studying bass and drums when the others left, wondering if I could cover for them. The fact that the members pulled out had an influence on it.

——How was it coming in contact with instruments besides the piano?

The structures are completely different. Bands are formed so that each person can compensate for the other. When it comes to the beauty of such arrangements, I came to feel them more keenly the more I delved into them. And then I started obsessing with the arrangements.

——After these twists and turns, did Centimillimental become in 2015 what it is now?

No, there were actually twists and turns from this point on too... There was once a time when the band became just the bassist and me. Back then, the band was not doing too well, so we decided to do a different unit. That was the band called “Nee, Wasurenaide Ne” (“Hey, Don’t Forget”). In the end, I mostly had to do it by myself, but doing things separately from the main activities gave me a high degree of freedom. And then people started finding us interesting and we gradually earned their praise. For me, that was extremely frustrating (laughs

——So it became a “sub”-like band.

That is right. And then I thought about quitting, so I applied for an audience as a commemoration for quitting, to make one last memory... but then the work I had applied won a Grand Prix. I was like, “No way!?”. This happened in summer 2015. And that was when the main and sub switched (laughs). And so, only the band’s original name remained. The label respects us in the sense that we “can make the music that we always wanted to”.

——What is the origin of the band name “Centimillimental”?

“Remioromen” is a coined word, so I looked up to a coined word in katakana. I personally like katakana. Plus, I like “sentimental” things. That sentimental feeling when you are going home after a fun day thinking, “Today was a good day” and it suddenly makes you feel lonely, or that sentimental mood from when you are purely sad... I believe that sentimental emotions regarding anything are something that we should nestle close to. I had this thinking that I want to express joy and sorrow with music, so while using “sentimental” as the pillar, I added the “milli” with the meaning of “not being too caught up with it”.

——Come to think of it, both “Given” and “Kizuato” are written in katakana.

I guess I have a connection with katakana (laughs). If the words are in kanji or in hiragana, doesn’t that change the appearance and interpretation of each? While katakana has a coldness to it, it doesn’t feel too sharp. I have the feeling that these kinds of words are interesting.

“Gender doesn’t matter when you’re in love with someone.” – He also has experience with composing music having a BL series as the impetus?!

——How did you feel when you received the proposal about “Given”?

It was the first tie-up of my life, so I turned into a mess of nervousness, uncertainty and expectations. But “Given” is a series about music and the theme is bands, which was something I looked up to. Moreover, rather than just the sparkle and shine of a band, it also focuses on sadness, the tremor from losing something... these delicate parts of it.

I think music has a close relationship with meetings and partings, so I felt happiness to be involved with a series that faces this directly. It was like something that was supposed to come at me had arrived, and at the same time, I felt something similar to destiny. That was my first impression.

——The sensible portrayal is one of the charms of this series, right? I read on the topic that this series was the first-ever BL comic that Noitamina has adapted into anime, and there is an indescribable appeal in the words “boys’ love”...

It allows you to smoothly immerse yourself into their worldview, right?

I have bought a BL manga in the past. In my middle school days, buying a book after looking at just the title was trending. At the time, what I took in my hands was a short story collection titled “Saigo no Sangatsu”. I thought at first, “I might’ve jumped into a terrible world!” but turns out it was a really good work...

Gender doesn’t matter when you love someone; it’s all the same. It was a really good work, so I was quick to wrote a song for it (laughs).

——That is a good story. By the way, did you use to watch anime back then?

I was not the type to watch anime in-depth. But what I thought to be odd was that, whenever you finish watching a series, doesn’t the way that you listen to the opening themes, ending themes and insert songs change?

Through the filter that is the series, the tone of the music changes, and the story stands out instead as the music overlaps with it... While watching, I would find myself thinking that this way of snuggling up to the music was interesting.

——What were your impressions when you read the original work of “Given”?

Kizu Natsuki-sensei’s focused viewpoint on pain is quite sharp. Her poetic depictions, which sometimes get you caught in them, are impactful and sensible. I thought it was a series that cherished words a lot. Since it is a manga, I think the art is the main point, of course, but I felt a literary beauty in it that resides not just in the drawings. It also felt close to the world of songs that I take part in, so I truly had the feeling that it was fate.

——So the image of the song came readily to you?

Right you are. That is where I arrived once I wrote down my own perspective of romantic love and the ways that people become involved with each other. The sense of suitability was incredible. That’s why I was able to write it so frankly, managed to say what I wanted to, and got close to the series. I feel that the compatibility was really good.

But of course, there were walls. I write even the arrangements by myself, so I had to make changes over and over, and I had never had any experiences with being the producer of a band before, so there were things I was not used to. Also, my main instrument is the piano, but there is no piano in the show. That’s why I had to delve into the guitar, so there I had a hard time sound-wise...

“I want it to be an important song for everyone from ‘Given’ too!”

——Can you tell us about your particularities regarding the sound of “Kizuato”?

For the anime size version, I purposely sealed away the piano and classic strings that I had been specializing in until now. For the whole song, in order to nestle closer to “Given”, I cherished the band’s scene, with a guitar, bass and drums.

——I felt a big meaning in the fact that it starts with a breath. Is it something that you gave importance to?

I like the sharpness of songs that start with the singing. That feeling of getting taken aback without thinking. Same goes for sighing - I feel that people’s emotions mount on their breathing. Through “the drawing of a breath”, you can sense a beauty and strength unique of vocal songs. For that reason, I cherished the breaths from the very start.

I also think that the breaths are very important in “Given”. For example, in the teaser trailer, the video ends with a breath, and in the PV, the scenes change with breaths too. That’s why I think it was good to be able to start the song like this.

youtube

——I felt that the lyrics portrayed the sensible feelings of all four, starting with Mafuyu, but how was it made?

They are human beings, so I think there is definitely a part of their emotions somewhere that they can share. The loneliness and agony of losing something, the conflicts of loving someone... anyone has that. I looked for keywords that would connect everyone from “Given”, including me. For me and for all the characters that appear in “Given”, it could not be a lie...

——The “four seasons” bit in the lyrics was also a good keyword.

I think that is one of the main points of the series, and that this part of it can connect even within me.

——The words “I can hear it and it’s still real, so I’ll carry your heart in your place” from the latter half are extremely painful, but at the same time, it conveys resolve and determination. Were you conscious of the machinations of their hearts or something like that within the song?

I think it is wonderful when emotions get into motion as the song goes on. Aren’t there moments in everyday life where wounds heal little by little and changes of heart where we try to get back on our feet even if they do not heal? I like story-songs that head towards hope in this fashion. I also want everyone in “Given” to be happy. I gave importance to how they should head towards hope while sharing those wounds.

——The song changes dramatically after the aforementioned verse.

I finished it with a classic orchestra sound. That is one of the strong points of my music, so I had the desire to approach “Given” through it. If I sealed away my music too much and made it into just a “Given” song, it would feel like I was standing on formality. I am a person who gets hurt and even so lives on crying and laughing, just like them. I pieced together that part of the song because I wanted to convey this message.

youtube

——So you let your uniqueness show in order to join hands with “Given”. Indeed, both with love and friendship, getting close to the other person is not all there is to it.

Right. That alone is not a connection, and you end up concluding that your own love is too deep... I believe there is a 50:50 beauty to it. Isn’t that what acknowledging one another and joining hands means?

“Kizuato” is my debut song and an important song for me. That’s why I also want it to be an important song for everyone from Given (the band). I thought about intersecting that. After thinking a lot, I managed to change the charm between the anime size and the full size.

At the beginning of the A-melody from the second chorus, I tried changing the rhythm, transforming it into an electro loop, and did all sorts of approaches. I hoped it would be wide-ranging as music.

——How did you feel when you watched the opening?

I was extremely moved. I had gathered with all the recording members to watch it, and everyone shared their joy too. It was a really good scene.

Having my own music playing in sync with an animation was my dream, so I was tremendously happy, and I felt like I had connected with the viewers who had the same feeling... I was truly overjoyed.

When I looked on Twitter, people had written up several opinions, making me go, “So there’s this many people enjoying my music”.

“It’s exactly because the desire to protect someone isn’t something simple that we feel uncertain.”

——Other than the OP, you also did the sound production of the band Given, so what impressions did you have from the production work?

I already liked production work to begin with. Until then, I had been doing producer-like things, such as arrangements for the musical compositions of artists around me, but this was my first time doing production as a job.

I mentioned Remioromen earlier, but I also looked up to Kobayashi Takeshi-san, who was Remioromen’s producer as well, so I had also wanted to work on production one day.

——Given’s debut single, “Maru Tsuke/Fuyu no Hanashi”, was released on September 18 2019. “Maru Tsuke” is also included in Centimillimeter’s single as a self-cover, but what kind of route did you take to complete this song?

To tell the truth, I had a song called “Maru Tsuke” for quite a long time. I already had its base form since 2015, so the song was in a state similar to an accompaniment material.

“Maru Tsuke” came into light during the meetings, and I didn’t think this song would have made it into the topic of discussions, so I was surprised. I was anxious at first, but when I tried facing it once again, there were so many fitting aspects to it that it even made me say, “So it can get this close to the series”. I felt like it connected with “Given” on a deep level, despite not having written that song for it.

——Holding someone dear, becoming a coward because of it, shouldering all sorts of feelings, and continuing to live in spite of that... What you talk about in “Maru Tsuke” might be things that everyone thinks.

The moment you start loving someone, you feel fear at the same time and become fragile. It’s exactly because the desire to protect someone isn’t something simple that we feel uncertain, and there is not only light to it, but I think loving someone is something beautiful. I get the sense that this swirling feeling itself is beautiful. That is what I threw into the song, and it was also one of the themes of “Given”. The fact that I managed to connect them goes without saying, but it’s like being told that I wasn’t mistaken about the things I gave importance to, which made me happy. In order to connect even better, I reconstructed the sound making and structure one more time, aiming for higher heights as a composition for “Given”.

——What were you conscious of for the direction?

Yano Shougo-san (the voice of Mafuyu) is a workaholic, so he sings all sorts of songs, but I thought there was a difference between songs sung by band vocalists and songs sung by voice actors. So I figured that it would be good if I could share with him the methods of band vocalists and band sounds in my own way, thus I have him that kind of direction.

I was also very conscious of “conveying words”. I believe that the author, Kizu Natsuki-sensei (who is also a producer of Given), also cherished words a lot. I think this also reflects on the songs.

——Was there anything you felt when you actually conducted the production?

First of all, I was extremely happy that a song I made was sung. It was expressed in a way that I myself couldn’t do, and even if the emotions are the same, the way people view it changes depending on who’s singing. Seeing it hand-in-hand with the series, spreading up just like that and growing bigger made me happy.

——The other song, “Fuyu no Hanashi”, played during the show in episode nine.

From the very beginning, there was already a song titled “Fuyu no Hanashi” in the drama CD, but this song began from me creating a new “Fuyu no Hanashi”. “Fuyu no Hanashi” already existed for the fans, so I saw plenty of everyone’s love for it on Twitter and such, and also how it comes close to their daily lives. I dreaded painting over it, but... I believed it was fate that I had received this proposal, so I thought, “I’m going to do all I can”. While there was pressure, there was also joy, so it was a strange feeling.

To tell the truth, when I received the proposal for “Given”, the offer for “Fuyu no Hanashi” came first-thing. That’s why I actually started the production from there. Afterward, I received proposals for the session track that plays in the middle of the show and for the theme songs... That is how it went.

——Was that so?! The seed, the piece that would give you most pressure came first, so to say.

That’s right. But for me, this was a comfortable wall. I worked on it while thinking that, if I could make many people happy with it, then it would be a big step for me.

——What kind of feelings did you put into it?

I figured it would probably be used for the live concert scene in the middle of the show, so I read the scene and imagined the concert over and over. In the drama CD, it could only be portrayed with sounds and voices, so I think they probably gave importance to how they would insert the monologues into the lyrics. In the anime’s case, there would be an animation accompanying the song, so I reflected on what the “Fuyu no Hanashi” that I could compose was. Like a shout for a person who has been lost... It’s a requiem, but also a follow-up of one’s true intentions... I wanted to treasure those messed-up feelings. Also, I thought it was a song that had been preciously loved until then, so I had a strong sense of duty not to ruin this.

Being involved with “Given” changed his life!!

——Could you also tell us about the track “Sessions” (The Seasons) that plays during the show?

I received the proposal for this one after “Fuyu no Hanashi”. “There’s a scene in the show that goes like this, so if you’d like, couldn’t you make a track for it,” they asked.

I had never made an actual instrumental band track. Counting the fact that three pieces had already been decided for the story, it was quite a pressure on me.

When I actually watched the scene where they are performing it in the anime, my spirits went right up. Like, “So this is how the band will go”. The sensation that oozed from my hands and spread into me felt truly good.

——Lastly, Atsushi-san, could you tell us... about the things you have realized and earned through the music production of “Given”?

It’s a series that has several places where everyone can join hands. I think that is exactly why so many fans love this work.

Being involved with “Given” has changed my notions of life, and I feel that it was a huge feat, if only for my musical life. I am filled to the brim with happy feelings for being part of it.

——Thank you very much for telling us so many things today.

#given #dailygiven #givendaily #fyeahgiven #given anime #satou mafuyu #uenoyama ritsuka #nakayama haruki #kaji akihiko #centimillimental #interview #animate times #my translation

288 notes · View notes

kuroos-moon · 4 years

Text

S/o Loves Their Best Friend

pairing: Kenma x reader, Iwaizumi x reader

scenario: they realize how you’ve fallen for their best friend

warning/s: angst, mentions of sex (Iwaizumi)

wc: 1.9 k

Kenma

He may love games, but your relationship to him is anything but. You’ve had deep and honest conversations and talks about life— about your barest and truest selves— he knows that there’s no one out there who understood him and knew him as much as you did.

The same goes for you too, he knew you like the back of his hand, like the skill combination of his favorite character and the buttons he had to press on his console without even glancing down. He knows how your eyebrows would form a slight crease when you’re confused, how you would always hum your favorite song when you were happy, but most importantly, he knows how you are when you’re in love.

“Oy, Kuroo-san you’re disgusting get away,” he hears you laugh as you bicker with his best friend, not bothering to look up from his game to know that your eyes were probably alight and looking at him like he was your life’s joy.

It had been months since you’ve met Kuroo, he never missed how your interest peaked at the mention of his name and how you always wanted to come see them practice only to exchange banters with the said captain.

Kenma was never the type to lie to himself, so the moment he realized how you must feel about Kuroo, he had simply been waiting for you to realize it yourself too, holding on to what he knew was a lost cause— your relationship; your love.

“Ken, c’mon, let’s walk home together,” you call out to him, and just like a banished child who was told he was welcomed back home, he looks up at you, eyes filled with hope— only to be replaced by a bitter and cold helplessness as he saw you were at the gym’s doorway beside him.

How long were you going to drag this on? he thought, as he walks off ahead of the both of you, heart heavy in his chest.

“Goodbye asshole,” you stick your tongue out at Kuroo as he pats both your heads before he enters his house with a grin. Hooking an arm around Kenma’s as he continued to play, the both of you quietly continue down the road. For some reason you can’t quite point out, you were feeling so content and happy, as if something extremely good happened to you today, like you could take on whatever life throws at you. Was it because you were with Kenma, the love of your life?

“Y/n,” he says in a low voice, making you look at him in question. “For how much longer are you gonna keep me?” He asks you, his face blank of any emotion in contrast to what he was really feeling deep inside. “Wh-what?” You ask in pure shock, unable to register such a serious question he put out in the open so bluntly.

He sighs, finally looking at your eyes as the both of you come to a halt. “Are you deceiving yourself or do you really not know it yet?” He asks, forcing himself to swallow down all the harsh but truthful words that wanted to slip out. “What are you saying Kenma?” You ask him, ah, there it is, he thought, the slight crease between your brows— you’re confused.

“If I’m only stopping you from being free of who to love y/n, by all means, you could simply end it and get rid of me,” he nonchalantly tells you and he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed because you still looked so confused, why were you so oblivious about your own feelings? Why does he have to be the one to make you realize it when you’ve been hurting him enough?

“Fine,” he sighs, shoulders slumping slightly as if he was so tired— because he was— “Quick question, Kuroo or me?” He deadpans and you meet his emotionless look with wide eyes. “Kenma of course it’s you! What do you even-”

“This is tiring,” he cuts you off, another sigh escaping his slightly parted lips as he looks up at the sky in thought, trying to calm himself and keep his tears at bay. So this is what it had come to? He never said anything nor has he acted any different, patiently waiting for you to find yourself back to him.

But you didn’t, there’s nothing but distance between you two, a distance you made grow, all the while he patiently stood still, blindly trusting you to choose him; to stay. Or was it somehow his fault too? Should he have chased you as you got farther away? Should he have changed into someone more like Kuroo— would you have loved him again then?

“Kenma, look at me,” you say in irritation, not having a single clue as to why he was acting that way. Cupping his cheek in your hand, you guide his face to look down at you, but all you saw was a face you wish you’d never seen, a look you wished Kenma would never have to wear.

“Kenma,” you whisper, the sound of your voice breaking his heart even more. The tears that glossed his golden cat eyes finally rolled down his cheek, wet against your skin as you don’t take away your gentle hold. He offers you a small smile, “If you’re not ditching me then I will, for your own good that is,” he says in defeat, taking your hand off him as he looks sideways and away from you.

“Y/n, let’s break up,” he says, yet again, in a calm voice devoid of emotion as he turns and walks away from you; and you stare at his back, unable to grasp how your separation was decided in an instant but would be permanent for eternity. You knew for certain that those words, accompanied by the beautiful smile he only showed you, and the tears you’ve only seen once before when you had a huge fight— it was him telling you that he had finally let go.

Iwaizumi

“Baka,” he curses at you lightheartedly, a subtle curve at the side of his lips as he looks down at you— his pillar and his favorite dimwit. “But Iwaaa! it was cute! You moaned-” You were cut off by his palm pressing against your mouth, and you can’t help but laugh at his silly and embarrassed reaction.

“Shut up or I’ll make you regret it tonight,” he scowls, taking his hand off when you lick his palm. “Get to class and try to make do with that brain of yours,” he says with half a smile, kissing your forehead momentarily before pulling away.

You guys were happy, you’ve been dating for quite a while and had just recently moved in together in his new apartment. Never had he thought that he would meet his greatest love in college, but much more than that, your personalities were polar opposites so he never expected for you to be his; to have you cradled in his arms every night as you sleep or to have you beneath him as you moaned his name in pleasure, keeping you up ‘til sunrise.

He knows how much he loves you, he was fully aware that it was simply beyond measure— there was just nothing to compare it to. On his way to your usual spot to the cafe across your school, he can’t help but look forward to seeing you again as if he didn’t just drop you by your classroom this morning.

Upon his enter, “Iwa-san, y/n’s not dating him is she?” Asks a girl he recognized was from his class. He bites back a scowl, did she just ask him if his girlfriend was dating someone else? Following her gaze, he looks to the booth you always occupied and his heart deflates, he suddenly grows anxious.

“Iwa-san?” The girl asks again, wondering why Iwaizumi was frozen from where he stood. Clearing his throat, he continues to make his way over to you. “Oh, y/n’s my girlfriend if it wasn’t obvious,” he mutters at the girl.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa brightly greets his best friend, sipping down on his lemonade. Lemonade, he had just recalled that you both had the same favorite drink, “Surprise!” Toru dramatically says, arms wide open making you chuckle. Not again, he thought. There’s that look in your eyes, the loving look that only his best friend could draw out from you, the look he wished to see when you were staring back at him.

“Babe, come sit down,” you smile up at him. The three of you catch up, his mood getting more and more brought down as you smile when he smiles, laughs when he laughs, and when you unconsciously brought your hand down to hold Toru’s when he told you about his struggles, he knew that the way you felt about Toru before, it was still there now; unchanging.

You guys met each other before he went to Brazil, would he really have been your boyfriend if Oikawa stayed in Japan? “Toru, let’s see each other tomorrow again, yeah?” you pout at him after pulling away from your hug. “Missing me already, y/n-chan?” He teases, ruffling your hair a bit. “Iwa-chan take good care of our y/n okay?” Oikawa bids with a smile, patting his best friend’s shoulder before walking out the cafe. Our y/n?

The whole time, his eyes don’t leave you, there’s that fucking look again, he thought, as you stare at Toru’s back while he walks away. You don’t even notice his down mood as you both make it back to your apartment. You were seated on your bed, looking at your phone with a small smile and he can’t help but just stand there as he watches you type away at your phone, oblivious to the fact that his insecurities once again resurfaced.

“Iwa-” he cuts you off with a hungry kiss, tossing your phone away as he gently pushes you down from your sitting position, hovering on top of you as his hands gripped your waist. “Ah, Iwa,” you let out a soft moan as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him to suck on your sensitive skin.

Your breaths were ragged and you were nearing your third orgasm for the night. “Iwa,” you moan his name, as he continues to pound inside of you, “I’m close.” Your nails dug themselves to his back, clawing at it as extreme bliss filled your head. “You love me?” He asks in a raspy voice, his forehead against yours, meeting your eyes with his as he continues to thrust in and out of you without slowing down.

When you don’t answer, he angles his hips and enters more aggressively inside of you as you whimper beneath him. “Y-yes, ah, yes I love you so much Iwa, so much,” you manage to say, earning a groan from him as your nails painfully dug deeper on his back.

You both cum together, your heavy pants filling the air as he pulled out of you. “I love you,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away and looks at your face. “I love you too Iwa,” you respond, looking back at him as you caress his cheek with your thumb.

His heart felt heavy; of course he will never doubt your love for him, but when you were made to choose, would he still be the one? The one to hear your steady breaths as you sleep, the name you call out when you moan, the person you’d share your life with— was he all that?

If Oikawa could stay by your side, if he was available for you, he just knows that it would be him with you instead.

You run your fingers through his hair as he settles his face at the crook of your neck, one thought running through his mind: could you ever look at him the way you looked at his best friend?

245 notes · View notes

fandomtrxsh19 · 3 years

Text

FINAL THOUGHTS ON FATE

I just finished Fate and.......... boy do I have thoughts about it. It wasn’t TERRIBLE, just meh. There were somethings I liked, somethings I didn’t like, and somethings I hated. This will contain SPOILERS.

Things I liked:

The sets. Some of the locations were really pretty such as the Greenhouse and outside of the school.

The performances of some of the cast were passable at best. Precious Mustapha’s Aisha and Danny Griffin’s Sky are among the standouts for me.

Bloom vs The Burned Ones: The transformation was a nice callout to the transformations of the original. The fire surrounding her and the fire wings were are really nice and cool touch.

Beatrix was an interesting villain to say the least. I like how she’s a bit of a mystery. I’ve noticed that she’s mostly like Darcy with some powers of Stormy.

The cast interactions: Watching behind the scenes videos and seeing their Instagrams, you can tell that the main girls are really close. You can tell in the Netflix interview that the cast really loved and cares for each other.

The music: I like how they used lesser known songs and others in the scenes, especially in the party scene.

The special effects: How they did the effects for the magic is pretty cool.

Things I didn’t like(strap in):

The Whitewashing: Of course this can’t be ignored or swept under the rug. The is a major issue on the directors and the creative team’s part. One of the things that makes the original so amazingly brilliant is in its diversity, having 3 of the main characters being WOC. This was and still is a bit step in representation on every shows. Winx Club is one of the first shows that I’ve seen where half of the main characters and lots of other characters didn’t look like me, and I LOVED that. The way they casted a white woman in the roles of both Musa and Flora is extremely shocking l and disappointing. Both Elisha and Elliot definitely tried their best with these characters, but this is still a huge issue. Netflix and the creators KNEW about this. The only reason why Flora’s name got changed to Terra is because of the backlash and the fandom calling them out on their bullshit. The way that Aisha’s role has been changed to a stereotype is simply disappointing but not surprising

The Characters: Not going to lie, lots of characters have been messed with and changed in many ways, none are really on a positive way. Bloom is extremely clueless and annoying. She only thinks of herself and whenever she’s on screen, it’s always like she’s internally saying “Everything’s about me. Let’s focus on me.” It just left a bad taste in my mouth. Stella’s just a bitch in this version. She just goes along acting like she’s above it all. This Stella acts like she doesn’t care about the rest of the girls and it’s really infuriating. She just insults these girls that are supposed to be her friends. She just fills the cliche of “ the bitchy blonde” and thanks, I hate it.

The Writing: Where do I start with this? It isn’t later seasons Riverdale bad, but, it’s still terrible. It’s like the writers haven’t even seen or heard of the source material. Just, the lines must’ve felt so awkward for the actors to say. The actors defientley tied their best with what they were given, but that didn’t really make it better in my opinion. They get old fast, especially the way how Bloom kept on saying “mansplaning” whenever she was taking to Sky was just so cringy. They referenced Harry Potter, Earth culture, and movies so many times and I didn’t like it. In the original, the Specilists, Winx, and Trix don’t know a lot about earth culture such as social media, and Harry Potter. I think this helps separate Earth with Magix. The Netflix adaptation decided to yeet that out the window and was like “Lets make this world like our own.” Part of the charm of the original is the even fusion between futuristic and fantasy aesthetics. Guess, they messed up....wow

The fashion: This is obvious. There’s no transformations, no cute and iconic outfits, just clothes that make the cast look bulky. The cast literally look like soccer moms omg. Stella? Wearing black? I don’t know her. Bloom? Wearing red? I don’t know her. Bloom is only shown wearing red ONCE. The whole reason why she mainly wears blue is to contrast her red head, and fire powers. Stella is APPALED, good sir, HOW DARE YOU!!

The character erasures: There’s no Winx Club without Tecna. Our tecnomagic icon is one of the pillars of the group. She makes sure descisons are thought through logically and comes up with amazing plans. Her powers are extremely powerful and useful in lots of situations. Also, the lack of Helia, Brandon, and Timmy disappointed me. Those guys are amazing characters and Brandon has an amazing personality and character growth that he goes through. Smh Netflix

The pace: The way scenes and storylines would progress was just awkward. The show starts off with Bloom at Alfea, then meeting Sky and I was just like......”What?” Scenes that are more “down to earth” and “chill went by kinda quickly to get to the “darker” and “edgier” scenes. It just weird and boring sometimes

Miscellaneous: The biphobia in Riven’s character and the fat phobia in the first 20 minutes. Seeing Elliot’s character constantly being bullied, not only broke my heart, but left a really bad taste in my mouth.

Now, these are just my opinions and scratch the surface of my feelings about this. As an adaptation of a preexisting property, I give it a 4/10 and as an independent show, I give it a 5/10. There were some good points and character growth, like the whole thing with Stella and her mom, but it was mostly disappointing.

According to Ignio, he and Brian Young think that animation is only for kids. He has literally said in an interview that this is “for the older fans who grew up with Winx” and “ They would like the darker and edgier version.” This makes me mad since I prefer animation to live action. These showrunners, creators, etc are in the wrong here. There are still lots of other cartoons that have a bright and colorful aesthetic and tell dark stories(I.e Madoka Magica). We don’t want another Vampire Diaries or Riverdale. We’ve already seen enough teens shows that are dark and edgy. What we need/want is a show that tells a story and honors the source material in an appropriate and special way. What we wanted and needed is a Winx Club adaptation that respects the source material, and keeps its fun, bright, and colorful aesthetic. Not, whatever Netwinx gave us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go rewatch the Nick/4kids/Cinelume dubs and WoW so I can cleanse my palette from what I just watched.

PSA: PLEASE don’t bully or harass any of the actors. They clearly tried their best with what they were given. It isn’t their fault at all.

#winx club #fate the winx saga #fate spoilers #final thoughts #world of winx

64 notes · View notes

neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

Heartstrings

❂ reader x mark lee (soulmate au, inspired by the film “Weathering With You”)

❂ alerts: fluff, angst, self-blame, mentions of death, drinking, making out, mentions of the dreamies, happy belated birthday to the greatest rapper, laugher, and watermelon-eating fiend ever! this was 40 pages- i’m so sorry

❂ song rec: raining in london by lana condor and anthony de la torre

Soulmates. Weather. Uncontrollable and unpredictable- yet they control your mood and your fate. It’s been this way ever since you’ve been born, even since the beginning of your parents’ time. Your mother and father called it a force of nature- a phenomenon when you’re connected to someone like an invisible string, a syncopation of voices, thoughts, and feelings. Luckily for them, they fell in love when they were just college students and miraculously became soulmates. You always thought it was lucky that they met and were destined to be together from that moment, forming a family by having you in the future. It made you think of the what ifs. What if they didn’t meet or if your mother had someone else when your father was around? What if they loved each other but weren’t soulmates? What if you ceased to exist? It makes you shiver when you think about it.

During middle school, you vividly remember a collection of memories. Happy ones and unfortunately, not so good ones. Your father had died when you were 14, a drunk driver had recklessly crashed into the family van on the highway when your father was driving to work. Even 4 years after, your mom became extremely frail at heart from the grief. She always had a wine glass in her hand, sobbing every night when she’d enter every room of your family’s home. You were just a kid when she told you she saw your father on every wall and every photograph. She missed him. She told you that she wasn’t able to heal so quickly. Understanding, you rubbed her back on the floor of their bathroom, dumping the remaining liquid out of her smeary glass. She just sobbed into your arms, shakes rupturing her entire body. It made you feel broken and somber seeing your own mother like this. Still, you had to be strong for her.

The weather outside was cold and dark. Rain crashed down on the window pane like a series of dashes and lines. The clouds seemed angry, lightning flashing like shooting stars and thunder roaring like a legion of lions. It was extreme and powerful, water flooding the streets and your front yard. You were sure the peonies that you had planted with your father were now washed away in broken stems. It seemed like you had an ocean of water outside and inside your mother’s bathroom. The feeling of hopelessness did not stop. That’s when you heard a pin drop. It was a subtle but also a loud sound, something possible to ignore- it was the sound of a realization: your father always loved the rain. No matter how chilly it was, he always enticed you to dance in the rain as he held his arms out, a grin plastered on his face. His smile always stretched from ear to ear. It’s something you never forgot.

You wiped your mom’s tears with your thumbs, “Mom?”

Your mother coughed, her eyes red and puffy, “Yes, honey?”

“Can I show you something?”

“What is it?”

“Just trust me.”

You took her by the hand, leading her through your dark and empty house. You made way to your backyard door, opening up to your water-logged lawn and a cloudy sky. Everything was a dull grey but was touched with splotches of periwinkle blues, it can’t be all that bad. Letting go of your mother’s hand, you begin to advance into the middle of the grass, spinning and twirling as hard as you can. You spread your arms out before sticking your tongue out to the rain above, droplets cold and fresh. You screamed out to the sky, “I love you dad!”

Your mother watched you with her lips pressed into a thin line, leaning on the pillar of your roof. You motioned to her, “Come on, mom- maybe dad’s up there watching.”

She pauses for a moment, reluctant of what might happen if she indulges in the thought. She decides that there’s nothing to lose. There’s nothing to do but own it anyway. She flies into your arms, your figure supporting her weight. You hear her sigh out when she feels the soft patter on her cheeks. Small water droplets litter her eyelashes, the cold soothing the puffiness of her face. She shuts her eyes for a bit, relishing in the icy, chilling feeling. Both of your shoes are flooded and covered in mud but it doesn’t matter. For the next several hours, you both laugh as loud as you can, running around your backyard. You both lay side by side on the wet grass, the green tufts under your fingers. Your mom turns her head towards you, smiling, “We will be okay.”

You nod, nuzzling your nose into your mom’s shoulder, “I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You hate the world. You hate how unfair it is. You wish you kept your word. That night, your mother had fallen asleep on the couch. Even though you had insisted on running a bath, your mother refused out of exhaustion. That one second has landed you and your mother in the hospital. The doctor had told you that your mother had come down with a severe case of pneumonia- it’s already scarred the lining of her lungs. The damage is irreversible. He’s also told you that your mother isn’t likely to survive due to her past conditions of frail health. You sit in your mother’s hospital room, clutching her hand as she sleeps. You think to yourself: Hasn’t the world taken so much from you already? Haven’t you experienced too many sacrifices? Your mind shifts into shadows. If you hadn’t suggested going out in the rain, would your mother be better? If your mother dies, isn’t it your fault? Soulmates? Do they even exist? You hate the idea of waiting for someone, pining for somebody that might never show up. The world is silly. You cry into her hand until you can’t breath. You let go of it, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Every doctor and patient that stares at you looks like a blur in your vision and your heart feels like it’s going to explode from it all. You can't stop rewinding your life like a broken movie reel, visions of your mother and you and your dad.

“Whoa there, slow down-”

A pair of arms catches you and an unfamiliar voice makes you bite your tongue on accident. When you look up, you’re met with the view of a boy- a cute one at that. You’re not in the mood to compliment him, to say anything. Still, through your blurry tears, you are wary of him. He seems like a boy that you could get to know but one that could wear the face of an innocent but actually be the devil in disguise. He’s too pretty to be average. His black locks are the color of ash, his eyes are dark and sparkly with innocence. Oh yes, he has sharp features too. His jaw and his cheeks are carved like seared gems, his eyebrows thin lines below his bangs. He wears a pair of denim jeans and a striped sweater. You take note of the annoyingly polished tag pinned on his sweater: “Mark Lee” it reads.

“Are you alright?” the boy asks again.

You just stare up at him, tears running down your cheeks like foggy waterfalls. You can’t smell, see, or feel. All you can do is lightly shake your head. Weirdly, he seems like he understands, “Can I help you find someone or a room? I’m a volunteer at this hospital.”

You shake your head again, a little too violently. You sniffle, your voice sounds small, “I just want somewhere that’s away from people.”

Apologetically, Mark nods. “I may be able to help. I just need to change first, yeah?”

“No, I- it’s alright. I don’t-t need help.”

Mark waves his hands around, “It’ll only take a few seconds, I promise.”

Why should you trust a stranger? Your mom always reminded you that your father was a stranger to her at first. Sometimes, you never know where it leads. You check the time on your phone before turning to see the direction of where your mom’s room is.

“Only a few minutes.”

You let Mark lead you to the bathrooms. He turns to you, frantic and he seems a little nervous, “Give me a few seconds. Don’t leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

When Mark comes out, he’s dressed in scrubs. He wears a grey shirt and matching pants, his tag now on the pocket of it. He looks like one of those hot nurses that helps the pregnant woman who’s screaming her lungs out in Grey’s Anatomy. You don’t say that to him though. He walks with you, “Follow me- uh.. what’s your name?”

“I-It’s y/n.” After passing a series of corridors, Mark unlocks some obscure door that’s a little ways down, shoving his ring of keys into the lock, “I come up here to think, maybe it could help you.”

“Is this even legal? Couldn’t you get fired for letting me up here?”

Mark rubs the back of his neck, his eyes on you, “Well yes, but I think you’re worth it.”

You make a face at him,“Why? I’m a stranger?”

“Not to be all sappy but my supervisor told me that in the medical business, you always have to take chances- this me taking a chance.”

You scoff, “Thank you for your charity, I’ll be going up now.”

Mark’s eyes widen at your brazen attitude, “I’ll wait down here. Just knock on the door when you’re ready to come down.”

When Mark opens the door, all there is a concrete staircase. But when you emerge to the top of the staircase, it’s everything in one place. Your breath hitches in your throat when you see it. It’s a rooftop. The sun sets on the city’s horizon, silver clouds rolling in to threaten waves of rain. Lightning flashes in it again, thunder booming just like that day. You walk around the rooftop, watching how high up you are and how the skyscrapers touch the vastness of the sky. When you turn around, you see something peculiar. A japanese-like shrine stands in your view, decorated with hanging lines of colorful lanterns and photos. Making your way to it, you recognize that the photos must be of victims that have died at the hospital. Flowers and bells hang from the red-painted posts. Under the arch, sits a small fountain that’s been collecting rain. It looks so old, covered in moss and grime. Though, if you peer hard enough, there are names inscribed into the stone. You step forward under the arch of the shrine, the bells ringing in the wind. But, when you do, it doesn't feel normal. It almost feels like all of your emotions and senses have been amplified. Somehow, you can’t hear anything. You can’t hear the twinkle of the bells or any wind. When you stare down at the fountain, you don’t believe it when you see water droplets floating upwards. You use your finger to touch the droplets, the small spheres floating into the sky in a stream. Gravity doesn’t work like this, does it? You try to grab the water droplets, they still continue to slip out of your hands and into the air above. How is this possible?

You dip your finger into the rain water that sits in the stone bowl, ripples forming. Something shocks your veins like electricity, it makes you clutch your heart through your chest. What was that? You run out from under the archway, suspicious of it all. Is it some sort of prank machine? Either way, you want to get back to your mother. You run out from under the archway, one prayer couldn’t hurt. It's silly, you don’t go to church much. Still, you clasp your hand together and you pray as hard as you can. You pray you can walk in the sun with your mom again, that your father is happy, and for everything you’ve ever known.

Opening your eyes, you run back down to the staircase before swinging the door open. You spot Mark tripping, his legs are a tangled mess, “Whoa- what the-”

You eye him suspiciously, “Why’d you lean against the door? I was clearly going to open it..”

“I thought you were going to knock! You just caught me off-guard is all.”

Despite having just met, Mark nudges you, “So, how was it?”

You eye him again, wary of him, “I’ll give you credit for the view- it was beautiful. I wanted to ask though, what was that shrine up there?”

Mark stops walking, cocking his eyebrow up, “What? There was a shrine?”

You stop walking as well, “The big red archway, fountain in the center? Colorful lanterns and photos? Can’t miss it unless you’re blind?”

Mark laughs nervously, his nose scrunching in mock-pain, “My eye-sight isn’t the greatest so..”

“There’s no way you could have missed it, I literally saw it the moment I got up there.”

“Maybe it’s new- I was just there last week and didn’t see anything like that. Maybe you need to check your eyes?”

“I have 20/20 vision, thank you very much.”

Mark raises his hands up in mock-surrender, “Yes sir- I mean, mam’’”

By the time you make it back to the hallway where you had run into Mark, you turn to him, “Well, this has been interesting. Goodbye, stranger.”

Mark giggles, “You know my name though- I know yours. Are we really strangers still?”

“Yes. We met like 10 minutes ago.”

You notice the pink blush that creeps onto Mark’s cheeks, his words coming out it a stuttering ramble, “I-I’d really l-like to ask-”

Before Mark can ask you his question, probably for your number, you're interrupted by your mother’s nurse running out to you both, “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you, it’s your mother. You need to come now.” Her facial expression does not look good.

You nod, “Bye Mark, thanks for uh- your time.”

Mark opens his mouth, “Y-yeah, no problem, uh- y/n, yeah- I’ll see you around?”

You follow the nurse, “Maybe.”

Later that night, your mom had passed away. And two years later, you had blamed yourself for it every single day. Not only did your prayer not work, your mind was absent of the boy who helped you onto the roof. You couldn’t didn’t want to even remember his name or why you had run into him.

2 years later

>I wonder if it’s raining in London

I wonder if the moon looks the same where you are

Still think about the sound of you humming

Singing to nothing in your car

Ever since your mom passed away, everything changed. You started to live with your aunt in her cottage home that was little ways out of the city. She had a rose garden out front, white and red bushes overgrown on the picket fence. Your aunt promised to invest in your parents’ property but thought it’d be good for you to spend the summer at the cottage. You could classify it as a time of healing, though most nights were spent thinking about your parents. You would spend the summer helping your aunt cook meals, plant flowers, and play with her beagle named Mosby in the wheat fields. At least, you weren’t entirely alone.

Eventually, it was time for you to apply for universities- a possibility that wasn’t even your orbit at all. Even so, strange things kept happening. Even when it was raining, no matter where you stepped- the weather changed in an almost too quick of an instant. If you wanted it to be sunny, the moment you stepped outside, the rays would emerge out of the obsidian clouds. If you wanted snow to play in with Mosby, it would snow even in the late June summers. It was odd, like the weather gods were at your beckon and call. This phenomenon only happened after that day you touched the fountain’s water, only after you walked under the archway of the shrine. You decided that there was no use fighting it. Of course, you were bewildered with your newfound power- though after a while, there was nothing to do but embrace it. There was something that your mother and father taught you since you were a child: help those who could be helped. Going around the city for errands, you observed people. For instance, a woman was telling her friend in the grocery store how disappointing that it would be raining during her baby’s 1st birthday. After collecting your items, you walked outside, clasping your hands together. You said in your mind, “Let us have sunshine for today.”

And of course, the weather forecast had announced that there would suddenly be no chance of rain. You could imagine the woman’s joy. You saw a young girl- about the same age as you running past you on the street as she tripped over her heels and fumbled in her tight office outfit, grumbling at how hard the rain was coming down. You wished for sunshine for her too. It was like the gods gave you a gift and it was your duty to use it for good- it’s what your parents would have wanted. Towards the end of the 2nd year, you told yourself that you wanted a change in scenery. It was time to do something worthwhile for yourself. Luckily, you got into the university of your choice and were on your way to moving to campus. There’s this erratic beating in your chest. Is it excitement? Anxiety? Fear? Probably a mix of all 3. As every coming of age movie, it’s all the same. Your aunt had helped you move into your dorm room, reassuring that you could come home or to the cottage whenever you wished. Thanking her, you press a kiss to her cheek before rearranging your boxes of belongings. Perhaps, this was the start of a new chapter.

First day of class

First period is english 101. The university looks nice, it’s very castle-like with high-rising towers and turrets made of carved stone. Students sit in the courtyards in their friend circles, coffees in their hands as they sit under the large juniper trees. Though it is a sunny day, the forecast shows that heavy rains will stir into a monsoon. You keep note of that. Walking into the lecture hall, you take a seat towards the middle row- not too close to be picked on but not too far where you can’t hear. The professor is some old guy who’s been studying philosophy for 3000 years and you hope that you don't fall asleep before he’s done. You rest your chin in your hand, twirling your pencil on top of the desk surface. Suddenly, the entrance door bursts open with a loud noise, causing the hundreds of the students in the room to turn their heads. A boy stands there, he drops his books recklessly. The professor pauses his lecture to lower his glasses, “Mr. Lee? You’re tardy, son.”

The boy scratches the back of his neck, doe eyes pointed at the man, “Sorry Professor Norman, the rain held me up.”

“Go take a seat.”

You hear the girls behind you giggle from the sight. All you knew was that he looked oddly familiar to you. The boy climbs the stairs, standing on his tiptoes to look for an empty seat. When he spots one, a grin is plastered on his face as he makes his way nearer and nearer to you. You realize that there’s an empty seat right next to you. It’s painfully embarrassing as you watch the boy fumble his way behind other students, murmuring I’m sorrys and pardon mes. One of his notebooks falls out of his worn down jansport backpack, a girl batting her eyelashes when she hands it back to him. Smiling charming at her, he whispers, “Thanks for that.”

Finally, after 4 years, the boy manages to make it next to you. You scoff when he accidentally swings his backpack into the side of your arm, “Oh god, I’m so sorry- “

You nod curtly, “You’re fine.”

Now that you can get a closer look at him, you feel sweat bead up on your back when you realize where you’ve seen him. It’s that boy- the one the night your mom died. He reaches his hand out, “Hi there, my name’s Mark. Mark Lee.”

You stare at him for a bit before reluctantly taking his hand, “Y/n.”

As much as you don’t want to admit, Mark looks as endearing as ever. His black locks are still the same, eyes shining from the dim lighting. He smells of the sweet rain, water droplets wetting his hair and his shoulders.

>I wonder if you look any different

And would I see the years that have passed on your eyes?

There’s still a little part of me missing

I no longer recognize

Mark turns to you, his eyebrow quirked when he says your name on his tongue, “Have we met before? You seem familiar?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know anyone by the name of Mark so, I guess you’re the first?” Why did you lie to him?

Mark nods, “Ah, I see.”

Mark ruffles the water out of his hair, opening his soaked notebook, “Ah shit, the rain got in my backpack.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “I can lend you some of mine?”

Mark’s eyes widen at you, you swear you can see a faint blush creeping on his cheeks, “R-really? I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“No need, here.” You proceed to tear some sheets out for Mark. His presence is kind of comforting- like some childhood friend. Wait, what? No- you barely know him.

You and Mark listen to the rest of the lecture in silence. When it’s time to go, he zips up his backpack before turning to you. He’s extremely red now. He bites his bottom lip, “Hey, I um, I was wondering if we could exchange numbers? I still want to pay you back for the paper and you’re new right? If you’re not, don’t worry about it but I don’t know, I just in case you needed me-ah, never mi-”

Before Mark can turn away, you look at him, “I’d like that. I could use a friend- being a newbie and everything.”

With that, Mark lights up, “Wait, really?”

“Sure.” You hand your phone to him, “Pick a good emoji.”

Mark’s fingers fumble with your phone, catching it in time before almost dropping it. He chuckles nervously, “Don’t worry, I got it-”

You smile, you’re sure your cheeks hurt from it.

“There you go Mark, you have my number now.”

“Cool. Good. Yeah.”

With that you wave him a curt goodbye, “See you around?”

Mark smiles back at you, teeth gleaming white in between his lips, “Yeah y/n, see you around.”

With that, you go home to your dorm room. When you look out the window before sleeping, you count how many droplets sit on the windowpane. The stormy skies angrily from swirls of obsidian and murky lavenders. You hope that Mark won’t be caught in the rain again tomorrow.

In class the next day, your professor assigns group projects during lecture. Because you happened to sit next to Mark, you were paired up together. You both didn’t mind though. Mark pulls out his notebook and fountain pen, yanking the cap off with his teeth, “So, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the project during lunch?”

You nod at him, “That works for me.”

When class is over, you follow Mark to the university’s cafeteria. It’s teeming with students and professors, lunch hour is always chaotic. Mark points at an empty table by the window, “How about over there?”

Before you can answer him, many voices call Mark’s name. He swivels around to see a group of boys motioning him over to their table. He glances at them before waving them off in refusal. You nudge him slightly, “We can go say hi if you want, I don’t mind.”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in some parts, “Are you sure? I don’t want to take too much of your time?”

“Let’s go, your friends seem nice.”

Mark scoffs, “Please, they’re hardly my friends.”

When you both make your way to your table, you’re greeted by a series of hoots and hollers. Mark introduces each of them. He points at a taller boy, brunette, and as handsome as hollywood’s greatest movie stars, “This is Jeno.”

Jeno smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. You’re sure your heart made flips at that. The loudest boy is named Haechan, jostling Mark by squeezing his thigh jokingly, “Is this your girlfriend?” he asks. You and Mark simultaneously shake your heads, refusing Haechan’s teasing. The next is Renjun, he seems more stoic than the rest. Similar to him, a girl whose hair is the color of burgundy plums sits beside him. Freckles dot her face, contrasted to the blueness of her eyes- you have to admit, she’s very pretty. Still, Mark introduces her as Lana and when you introduce yourself, it’s like daggers are being shot through her eyes. You suspect it has to do with Mark being next to another girl. When you’re finished introducing yourself to everyone, Haechan lets out a burst of laughter, “Y/n’s so sweet, if you don’t take her then I will!” as he slaps Jeno’s shoulder, Jeno rolls his eyes at the boy. Mark stares him down, grabbing your hand, “Y/n and I have a project to work on, we’ll be going now.”

You shout out a quick nice to meet you back to them, your eyes shifting to Mark’s fingers around your wrist. You don’t say anything as you let him drag you to the library- your hand becoming a little clammy. You hope he doesn’t notice it.

Sitting at some empty table near the shelves, he turns back to you, “Sorry about that back there. They’re rambunctious. They must’ve made you uncomfortable right?”

You smile at him, shaking your head, “Not at all really, they seem fun. You’re very lucky.”

Mark’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widening. You gesture to his fingers, “Mark, you’re still holding me?”

In a flash, Mark drops your hand, his palm flying to his mouth, “Oh god- I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize-”

You place your hands on his shoulders, “Mark. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He nods slowly, trying to fight the blush that creeps up his neck and his cheeks. He shakes it off, you realize how endearing he is. He sits down, opening up his philosophy books, “So, what should we do for the project?”

You twirl your pen in your hand, “Well, Professor’s prompt was we have to discover the secret of life right? What does that even mean?”

Mark knits his brows together, pouting his lips, “Good question. I think that’s what the assignment is- discovering it for ourselves?”

“How do we do that?”

“Let’s start making a bullet list. I do that when I’m weighing options.”

Mark starts to scribble on his notebook. “What does life mean to you?”

You look at him, your eyes instantly catching his. You have to look away. Life. Weather. Soulmates. Aspects of your world that you can’t fully understand. Your mouth feels dry. You think back to your parents, moments that you play in the dark by yourself, the things that you would do and experience but can’t. The words kind of tumble out from your lips, “Mark, do you believe in soulmates?”

Mark freezes. He sits in silence for a few seconds. He bites his lower lip, “It’s difficult to say. I mean, my parents are soulmates so I’ve just grown up thinking that I’ll have my own one day? But no, I don’t have anyone.”

You nod. You kind of mumble, “Yeah, I don’t have anyone either. I almost don’t want to believe in them.”

“Is there a reason why?”

“Not really, I just don’t get how two people can randomly become synched.” No, it’s because you’re afraid of love. You’re afraid of what will happen if you love someone so hard and they leave.

“Ah, I see.”

You clear your throat, “Anyways, back to the prompt. What does life mean to you?”

“I think it could be a variety of things, my family, my friends, school? But I’m assuming that Professor doesn’t want generic answers. He said the creative category weighs the most points.”

And then it clicks in your head. Your gift- it’s what ties you back to your mom and your dad, seeing people happy when you are able to bend the weather to your will. You’ve never told anyone before. You thought people would look at you weird if you told them. Should you tell Mark?

Mark scrolls through his phone, long eyelashes accentuating the hood of his eyes. His lips pursed when he presses his fingers to the screen, “Hey- sorry, this is off-topic but what do you think is going on with the weather? Like one day it’s a hurricane and then sunny the next. Everyone’s talking about it on Twitter.”

“Mark, can I show you something?”

Mark snaps his head up, “Is everything okay?”

You smile, “Just trust me.”

You hand him his belongings as he messily shoves them into his backpack, “Where are we going?”

“Just don’t freak out.”

Mark makes a face at you, “When you say that it makes me freak out.”

You lead Mark to the roof terrace of the university, climbing the stairs in the pouring rain. People below run under the canopies as they use their books to avoid the rain. Mark gulps, “You know, I’m not the best with heights-”

You plant your feet on the ground, clasping your hands together. In your head, you repeat the words like a mantra, “I want sunshine today, let the heavens be sunny upon us.”

And like instant magic, glowing white rays start to sear the blackened clouds, the rain starting to cease. In the middle of the dark ocean above, patches of deep blue begin to emerge. Mark runs to the terrace railing, “Holy shit- are you doing that?”

When the rain is completely dissipated, you glance at Mark who’s staring at you with utter awe in his eyes, “I’m going crazy right? Is this some weird trip or something?” Mark’s voice cracks, his fingers clenching the base of his throat.

You shake your head, “No, this is my gift. You’re the only person who knows about it.”

“You have the power to make it stop raining?”

“Not only that, but all weather forms. Whenever I pray.”

Mark clasps his hands together too, closing his eyes as he murmurs types of weather, “How come it’s not working for me? I go to church all the time with my family.”

You sock his arm, “No silly, it’s not normal for everyone. Just me.”

Mark lets out an elongated whoa, “How long have you had this gift?”

Suddenly, your throat turns hoarse, “Since my mom died.”

He stammers, his words coming out in a trail of apologies, “I’m so sorry, I didn't know- I-”

“It was a long time ago. Still, I think I was given this gift to carry on my parents’ legacy, their connection of being soulmates even.”

Mark nods quietly. “That’s so cool. I’ve never met a weather girl before.”

You laugh at his nickname, “Weather girl huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

“I’ll change that to your contact name, you can bet on that.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“So, what do you do with your gift? How do you know when to change weather patterns?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t. When I walk around and I see or hear that someone need’s weather for a specific day, I try to help them out. I thought I’d try to do something good.”

Mark runs his fingers over his hair, “That’s amazing. That’s so admirable of you to do that.”

“It’s what my parents would have wanted. I do it for them too.”

Mark stands up straight, his finger pointing at you. It looks as if a light bulb is going off, “Say- I have an idea for our project. What if we started a business?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hear me out- we can call it Weather Girl Service. We can talk about money management and leadership skills in life, because that’s what adults do right? Pay taxes and bills?”

You laugh at his silly idea, “But why Weather Girl Service?”

Mark hops excitedly up and down, “We can make job postings in the city and have people pay us by the hour if you change the weather to fit their occasion! We’d be rich by the end of it! But wait- only if you agree, I don’t want to make you do something like that if you don’t want to.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, “I’m up for it if you are. I don’t mind.”

“Really?! Are you sure?!” Mark looks like an overly-excited school boy, his backpack jumbled because of how fast he’s jumping. He scrunches his nose, fistpumping the air, “We’re so getting an A on this.”

“Yes, I sure hope so!”

With that, you and Mark plan to meet at your dorm room the next day to get started on the project. He texts you later that night, “3 pm sharp right?”

“Yes sir, 3p m- my room.”

“Alrighty, see you tomorrow!”

When 3 pm comes, Mark stands at your door, his hands full with a box of materials and supplies.

You giggle, “You sure got reinforcements.”

“I have to be prepared!”

For the next several hours, you and Mark spend time designing different posters and infographics to upload online and staple to bulletin boards. Mark’s got a mark cap in his mouth, brows knit in concentration as he writes on his notebook.

Mark snaps his fingers together, “How about this: Weather girl at your service, you call and we’ll be there to help you get the memories that you want- birthdays, grad parties, work events, you name it! Submit your info to this number here!”

You flash him a thumbs up, “It’s perfect. I love it.”

All day you and Mark run around the city- posting your posters and fliers from anywhere you can find. You post them on benches, town hall bulletin boards, and the street lamps that line the sidewalk. And the whole time, you never take your eyes off Mark’s wide smile and sparkling eyes. You don’t catch that whenever you’re turned away, Mark glances at you to admire your features, your hair, and everything in between. Around 6pm, you walk beside Mark on one of the bridges that extends over the river. The sun sets in the horizon, colors of sharp marigolds and blush pinks paint the sky above. There was no way that you and Mark were going to run around the city in rain. Sighing out, you watch the sun cast a faint glow on Mark’s cheeks and the slender of his nose, making him out to be a painting that belongs in the museum. It’s almost like if you took a paintbrush that you could paint him yourself just to memorize it.

Mark fists the air in victory, “We had a very productive day today, don’t you think?”

You nod, “Of course. I don’t think anyone can resist our offer.”

“Thanks for doing this with me.”

You’re suddenly caught off guard by Mark’s gratitude, though it is not too out of character. “I had fun today with you.”

Mark smiles at the ground, twirling when he walks like he’s skipping to the beat of his favorite song. You hear him mumble a cute, “Me too.”

For the rest of the way, Mark walks you back home to your dorm room. Even though you told him you were fine, he still insisted.

“Well, this is me.” you say.

Mark scratches his nape, readjusting the strap of his backpack, “I’ll see you tomorrow then. The grand opening.”

You nod, “Yes, bright and early.”

You turn away from him as he watches you enter your building. You instantly wish that you could’ve placed a hasty peck to his cheek. It seemed irresistible in the moment. Though, you remind yourself to not get too comfortable. Little did you know that Mark spent the whole night thinking about you.

>But if I had met you today

Would I have loved you the same?

And if I had known it would take

Ten years and twenty-two days to stop loving you

Stop loving you, no

First day of business

“Mark, is this yours?”

Mark sits in the driver’s seat of his sunny yellow van- the kind that you’d make deliveries in. It looks bright under the gloomy, rainy skies. He honks his horn obnoxiously once and twice as he scrunches his eyes together before saying, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Laughing, you launch yourself into the seat before Mark takes off with a faster speed. You shout, “If I die in a car accident today, half of the money we make goes to my aunt okay?”

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, “Stop it y/n, I’m the best driver in town!”

“Yeah, right-”

The first stop happens to be one of Mark’s dad’s friends. He requested that he was going to surprise his wife with an anniversary dinner and needed sunshine for that specific hour: Saturday, 6pm. When you arrived at the pretty farm home, the man greeted Mark instantly when you got out of the van. He shook your hand, eyes anticipating, “Is it true? You can really change the weather?”

You smile at him, “You need to see it to believe it and I’m here to deliver.”

The man puts his hand on Mark’s shoulder, “Here’s the compensation for your work today. I have to ask one favor of you.”

Mark quirks his eyebrow up, handing the wad of cash to you, “What’s that?”

“My wife and I want some private time, we’ve paid you extra so that you can watch our daughter?”

Mark’s jaw drops, “Watch your daughter? As in baby sit?”

“Yes, that’s right. We will give as much as you need.”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, his eyes widened, “I don’t think-”

Before Mark can answer, you cut in, “We’d love to. What time does she need to be back?”

“8 pm.”

“Deal.”

Mark stands next to you, his face utterly flabbergasted from your confidence of the deal. You can tell that he’s freaking out inside. He’s panicking and it shows on his face.

“Mari, please come out! One second-”

Through the front door, the man guides his 7 year old daughter to you both. And you’re sure that your heart does flips when you see her. She’s dressed in a princess dress, her eyes fluttering from sleep. She’s the spitting image of her father. She drags a blue blanket in one hand, rubbing her green eyes, “Daddy?”

Her dad motions to you and Mark, “You’ll be hanging out with Mark and y/n today. Mommy and I will be back in a few hours.”

“Okay..”

The man tells you about everything you need to know, when Mari needs to go to the bathroom, what she likes to eat, and every little thing she likes to do.

“I think we’re all set now, any questions?”

You shake your head, “No sir, we’ll have her back by 8.”

He nods at you, “Good, see you both later.”

With that, Mari is left in yours and Mark’s hands. You crouch down to her level, waving at her lightly, “Hi Mari, my name’s y/n. Me and Mark will take you out today okay?”

The girl slowly blinks, clutching her blue blanket even tighter, “Are you my mommy for today?”

How have you not exploded from her adorableness yet? “Yes, just for a little bit until your real mommy comes back.”

She reaches up to cling to Mark’s pant leg, plopping down to sit on his shoe, “And you’re my daddy today?”

Mark glances down at her and back to you. He squeezes his eyes in mock pain, running his hand over his hair, “Sure, I’m your daddy.”

You nudge him, whispering, “She’s a kid, try to be nice.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When you hop back in the van, you have Mari sit in your lap as you place the seatbelt over her body, making sure she is secure. Mark revs up the engine, driving slowly to the next location of requests. It doesn’t take long for Mari to fall asleep on your chest, you coo at her peaceful face.

“I’m not good with kids- what did we get ourselves into?”

“Don’t be such a worry-wart! She’s so cute, look at her!”

“Can’t, I’m driving.”

“Don’t be grumpy Mark, you’ll have a family with your soulmate one day.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates.”

“Agh- you know what I mean.”

“Will she be okay when we’re working? We have 2 more requests to do.”

“She’ll be fine, relax.”

The next destination you arrive at is a farmer’s market at the heart of downtown. When Mark parks the car, you wake Mari, “Mari? Mark and I have to work so you just stick with me okay?”

Mari mumbles a disoriented reply, her cheek still resting on your shoulder. You arrive at a fruit stand where an older woman approaches you, “Mark and y/n?”

Mark smiles at her, “That’s us- you called the Weather Girl Delivery Service?”

“Yes. The other farmers didn’t want to believe me but I swear, I wanted to take a chance with this. As you can see, we can’t have our market with all this constant flooding and rain. It’s like the weather’s been on steroids.”

Mark flashes her with a thumbs up, “That’s why we’re here, we’ll get to work right away.”

“Y/n?”

You step forward to Mark, “You’ll have to hold her.”

Mark’s eyes widen with surprise, “Uh, okay.”

He cradles sleeping Mari so awkwardly, you have to guide his hands to support her bottom, “Mark, you have to hold her up or she’ll slip.”

Mark fumbles with his hands before adjusting her so her chin is on his shoulder, “I got her, don’t worry.”

You nod before making your way to the center of the market. Clasping your hands together once more, you pray that the sunshine will blow away the cyclone of the shadows and falling rains. Miraculously, it does. When you turn around, the woman stands next to Mark in awe spreading her arms out in glee, “It works! Haha! Take that you old goons!”

The rest of the farmers stand under the shade of the fruit stand, grumbling at the woman’s victory. You give her a hug once she sends you off with a wad of cash and three freshly squeezed juices for all three of you. When you settle back into the car, Mari still stays rested on your lap.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Mark rolls his eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips, “Okay, you win this time.”

“By the way, is this your first time holding a child?”

Mark laughs, “Don’t even patronize me right now.”

The third destination is a bit more serene. You arrive at an elderly woman’s home, her home similar to that of your aunt’s cottage. It’s decorated with wood and bamboo shoots, bells and windchimes hang from the roof shingles. Knocking on the door, the woman greets you. She’s an elderly Japanese woman, hair tied into a loose bun as she motions you to come inside with her cane, “Come in, come in.”

You both slip off your shoes, Mari awake as if sleep was a distant memory. The woman leads you to her dining room, pots of orchids and perilla leaves grow all over the counters and sink. There’s colorful painted murals of people and sceneries on the walls, smeared from the passing of time. History moves within the walls in a series of blurred colors.

“Something to drink, kids?”

You and Mark decline, prompting Mari to mumble, “I’m thirsty.”

You hear the rumbling noise from Mari’s stomach, it is around lunch time. You ask for the woman for a glass of water but she waves you off with a smile. Instead, she cuts a slice of peach pie for Mari, the crust smells of cinnamon and nutmeg. She passes a pitcher of lemonade to you and Mark, sucking on lemon slices as she works.

Mark sits next to you on the bench by the dining table, “Thank you for the hospitality mam’, there’s no need to pay us for your request.”

You smile at Mark’s words, not wanting to take from the elderly woman either. When she’s done putting away the pie, she meanders over to you slowly as she pats down Mari’s silky black hair, “You kids are awfully young to have a child.”

Mark chokes on his tea, sputtering the liquid into his glass. It sends him into a coughing fit, “S-she isn’t our child- we’re just watching her for the day.”

You jokingly hit Mark’s back to get him to stop choking, “Oh no, we’re not married either- we’re just friends.”

The woman raises her brow like she knows some unspoken secret, “Friends?”

You and Mark glance at each other before awkwardly averting eyes. Even Mari talks with her mouthful of pie, “They’re my mommy and daddy for today!”

Mark mutters, “I’m not your real dad..”

The elderly woman is amused, her smile creating creases on her cheeks and on her temples, “Are you two at least soulmates?”

This time, you answer her almost too hastily, “No! We’re only classmates- friends- that’s all.”

Mark looks at you, the sparkle in his eyes dimming a bit. Was that disappointment? Hurt? His shoulders are drooping and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Did you say something wrong? It was a fact though, you and Mark weren’t soulmates.

You try to brush it off. The woman leans on her cane, “I need you kids for your strength. I would do it myself but as you can see, I’m not as young as I used to be. Help me move the orchids out back.”

Mark makes his way to the kitchen sink, roots overgrown on the counter top. You move Mari off your lap before turning to the elderly woman, “Could you please watch her?”

The elderly woman chuckles, “Sure, I have enough pie to keep her distracted.”

You politely thank her, making your way over to where Mark is putting the orchids into glass vases. He doesn’t say a word. You nudge him with your elbow a bit, “Is everything okay?”

His eyes are trained on his busied hands, “Mhm.”

“Mark, you don’t seem okay.”

“Nope, everything’s good y/n. Are you alright?”

“Well yeah, but..”

Mark bites his lower lip, “Good.”

He grabs both vases in his hands before walking over to the sliding door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. He definitely wasn’t okay, you don’t want to push him any further. Instead, you pot the rest of the succulents and flowers in the kitchen.

“You know, that boy likes you.”

You turn around to see Mari snuggling up to the elderly woman, her dimples popping out from smiling.

“Mark? No, we’re just partners for a school project.”

“That may be true but I’ve lived a long time, I know what love looks like. After all, I had a soulmate too.”

You lean against the edge of the counter, picking off the stray leaves off stems, “Let me guess- they left?”

“To the afterlife if that’s what you’re referring to.”

You stay silent. You’re not sure what to say.

“Child, have you been hurt in the past?”

You snap your head up at her, setting the flowers down, “Why do you ask that?”

She clicks her tongue, “Being ignorant to feelings doesn’t count as being oblivious. Don’t let your past rip you of your opportunities.”

Your eyes shift to Mark standing outside, he sticks his hand out in the rain, water droplets crashing against his palm.

“With all due respect, you don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“Shoot it at me. Guilt? Sadness? Grief? You forget I’m old. I’ve seen things.”

Mari pokes her arm, playing with the ribbon on the woman’s sleeve, “Can I have more pie?”

The woman frowns down at her, “You’ll be sick if you eat so much pie, wait for dinner.”

Mari huffs in response, brows furrowed in annoyance.

“My point is, y/n, you have to learn to accept outcomes and heal. Don’t be stuck on your mistakes and your missed trials. Learn and grow from them. Ask yourself of purpose. Why are you doing this project? Why with that boy?”

Before you can answer her, you’re about to say it’s for the grade, maybe for the extra money. Deep down, you know that it isn’t that. You turn to look at Mark outside. He’s standing in the middle of the woman’s Japanese garden, eyes shut under the falling rain. And you swear, you’ve never seen anyone who’s any more beautiful. He looks so peaceful standing there, hair becoming wet from it. It reminds you of that day.

She continues, “In my time, I’d normally enjoy the rain. But, my flowers are dying so I need you to bring the sun for today. I haven’t felt that ever since the city’s been raining non-stop.”

You nod, you know what you must do. You stroll over to the sliding door, opening it up to the garden. You approach Mark in the middle of the grass, watching him as he sticks his tongue out. When he opens his eyes, he jumps from being startled by you, “Whoa, how long have you been standing there?”

“Not long, I just wanted you to enjoy the rain about longer before I- you know.”

“Oh, right, go ahead.”

You do what you do best.The old woman steps onto her porch, Mari flying past her to catch up with you and Mark. You savor the coldness, the breeze, and the scents of drenched flowers. You want to try something new, something that you can see and feel all in one moment. In our head, you visualize a million colors. You think about the walls of the elderly woman’s home and the sunset glow on Mark’s face, your mother’s familiar smile. You think about Mari’s laugh and all the people you’ve made happy today. It paints tangerine oranges and lavender streaks, explosions of electric blues and sparkling greens. Clasping your hands together, you wish on the stars to send your vision into the sky. When you open your eyes, Mark’s holding Mari in his arms as her mouth falls open from the view. It worked. The sky above your heads has become an ocean of color strokes, clouds and stars swirling together. It’s the best configuration you’ve ever made. It looks like a real-life kaleidoscope.

“Holy shi-”

Mark stops his words when he feels Mari’s small finger poking his cheek, “Look at what y/n made!”

You smile, pressing your hand to Mari’s head, “I made it for you! Do you like it?”

Mari squeals, “ Yes! Yes! Daddy, lift me higher!”

Your eyes fall on Mark’s. He gives you a knowing smile, eyes soft with adoration and glittering under the shooting stars. He lifts Mari onto his shoulders, “Hang on tight!”

She yelps, placing her hands on his head, “I want to catch the stars!”

Mark begins to spin around lightly, making airplane noises from his mouth. You laugh at the sight, turning to look back at the elderly woman. She winks at you, leaning on the pillar of her makeshift watering station for her succulents. After playing around under the cosmos, you finally greet the elderly woman goodbye, thanking her for her advice. Though you and Mark refuse, she shoves her cash into your hands, telling Mark to treat you- she says you're both welcome to her home anytime. Afterwards, you and Mark drop Mari at home as promised. You feel your heart swell when Mari starts to cry, Mark pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her into her father’s arms. He assures her that you and Mark will come to visit sometime, inviting you both to dinner in the future. Of course you agree.

Mark drives you back to campus, walking you to your doorstep as always. He pulls out the money, splitting it evenly in half before handing it to you, “Your share as promised of course.”

You nod, taking the cash from him, “You know, doing this job- money is a bonus but I’m not doing it for that.”

Mark chuckles, his hands in his denim pockets, “I’m glad we can make people happy.”

A silent beat. “You know, uh, about earlier- I didn’t mean to come off weird. I think I was just in my head about something, I’m not sure.”

You’re not usually someone who makes the first move. The first leap. Mark doesn’t even have the slightest clue about what he’s doing to you, how he makes you feel. Do you like him? You’re almost certain of the feelings. You step forward, your nose almost brushed against his chest. Gingerly and slowly, your fingers find Mark’s hand, it makes him gulp from the sudden contact. His eyes are widened in confusion and you think he’s forgotten how to breathe. Looking up at him, you say, “It’s fun doing this with you- I’d rather not do it with anyone else.”

Mark nods but doesn’t say anything. His hands are shaking. You can hear the erratic beating in his chest and it takes every bone in his body not to grab your face and kiss you right on the spot. When he doesn’t say anything, maybe you think that you’ve scared him. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way. You step back a bit, the air becoming less tense, “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“Okay, yeah.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something more but you’ve already shut the door. In Mark’s head, he’s let out a string of curses. Why didn’t he do something? Why didn’t he say something? Why is he such a coward? He asks himself. Is it the right time? What if you don’t feel the same way?”

All night, he beats himself up for it, tossing and turning in his bed.

The next couple months in your university fly by. Ever since that night, you and Mark continued as if nothing ever happened. One thing that did change was a gloomy, ominous blanket over the city- it almost felt apocalyptic in a sense. Weather forecasters predicted that with such heavy and continuous rains- the flooding, the city would be underwater in the next coming year. There might be an evacuation.

Still, you took it upon yourself to savor the time you would have left in the city. One of the things on your list was you wanted to get to know Mark’s world better. You know that he can’t eat dairy, he absolutely hates the texture of yogurt and he’s able to eat watermelon flavoring by the shot. It’s gross but it sounds like him. You and Mark eat at all your favorite lunch spots, watch comedies in the theaters, and hang out in each other's rooms. The business is going well, more and more people submit their requests for sunny days and sunsets, sometimes purposeful rain to play in. Mark drives in his sunny yellow van, sticking your hand out the window as your favorite songs blare from the speakers. You even have dinner at Mari's house. Her parents are shocked to hear that you and Mark aren’t together yet. The blush on your cheeks are the shade of ripe cherries. At the school, you sit with Mark’s friends practically for every meal. Everyone is fond of you, except Lana. Every time Mark tells stories about wacky customers or talks about how excited he is because you both received an A in philosophy class, Lana gives you a look. Vice versa, Mark glares at Haechan whenever he gets too close to you, he doesn’t say anything.

You and Mark had started the business in the summer, the weather outside is more autumn-like now. You have to wear a scarf to class because of how chilly it is. Leaves change to shades of burgundies and browns, falling off trees when they’re ready- it almost signifies the start of a new season- a new chapter of your life.

Autumn

>Where did the time go?

You became someone I used to know

Where did the time go?

When you became someone I used to know

Used to know, used to know, used to know

Business Partner Mark Lee: “Y/n, the boys and I got tickets to the new amusement park. Wanna come?”

You text Mark back during your statistics class, “Of course, I’ll be there.”

Business Partner Mark Lee: “Meet us there at 6 pm. After that, can we talk? I need to ask you about something.”

“Okay.”

Going back to your dorm room, you walk with a pep in your step. You wonder about what Mark wants to talk to you about. Will he finally say something? Is it about the business? Does he think you’re too mean with your teasing? Anyway, you dress up in a cute outfit of your choice- nice shoes, a cotton knit sweater, and a corduroy skirt. You even tie your hair with ribbons that Mark gave you as a congratulation for 100 customers' gifts. You bought him a guitar pick then.

By the time you reach the amusement park, you meet up with Haechan, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung. Chenle had choir practice and Jaemin was on a date with some girl. Mark and Lana are nowhere to be found.

“Hey, guys.”

Haechan sees you first, swinging his arm over your shoulders, “There she is- beautiful y/n.”

You attempt to push his weight off, “Haechan, you’re heavy- you’re going to break my shoulder bone.”

Jeno laughs, “I don’t think that’s actually possible.”

Renjun jumps in, “What should we do first? Ferris wheel? Laser tag? Mini-golf?”

“We’re not doing rollercoasters, not the upside down ones.” Jisung rolls his eyes, chewing his mint flavored gum.

Haechan smirks, “Jeez Jisung, you’re no fun- you can stay on the ground and video record us like a grandma.”

Renjun shoves Haechan, “I’m with Jisung on that one, unless you want puke all over your expensive jacket.”

“Fine, me and y/n will be up there.” Haechan leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you get scared, you can hang on to me.”

You awkwardly pat Haechan’s chest, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, thank you.” Haechan raises his eyebrows, his lips upturned in a smirk, “Whatever you say, y/n.”

You know that Haechan has a crush on you. Jeno and Jisung had told you so out of curiosity but doubted it from the start- they knew you had your eyes on Mark the entire time. Haechan could never compete.

“Where’s Mark and Lana?”

Renjun snaps his fingers, his eyes lighting up, “Oh yeah- Mark told me he was picking up Lana. I think they were hanging out before this.”

Haechan responds, “I’m not surprised. I think Mark will ask her out today, their families have known each other since birth.”

Your heart sinks. Oh, so there was someone else. It’s probably why Mark brushed you off that day. Probably why he’s never said anything since. You feel a bit sick in your stomach and you haven’t gone any roller coaster yet. You had spent this whole time pining for someone who’s not going to like you even as close as you like them. It’s been one-sided.

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when Jisung waves excitedly at Mark and Lana, both of them side by side. You feel weird about it. Renjun straight up, his finger pointing to the air, “Let’s do laser tag first, I call dibs being team captain.”

Jeno laughs, his eyes crinkling when he does, “Then I’m the other team captain.”

“Hey, y/n.” Mark comes up from behind you.

“Hey Mark. Hey Lana.”

Lana says a barely audible, “Hey.”

Once you’re all split into teams, it goes like this: Jeno’s the captain of your team, you, Haechan and Lana are on team red. Team blue consists of Renjun as captain, Mark and Jisung. To compensate for the lack of team members, team blue gets a head start in hiding. When the game begins, you just try to have your best to have fun. You dodge around the glow in the dark pillars, aiming your gun at Renjun as he angrily fists the air from running out of ammo. Haechan and Jisung fight off to the death, freezing each other out. By the time the hour is done, it’s down to you, Lana and Mark. You try to devise a plan with her but she doesn’t seem to engage with you. All she tells you is, “I’ll get Mark out.”

Was that a warning? A phrase of double meaning? Maybe you’re just overthinking it because of envy. Down to the last three seconds, Lana and Mark face off in the middle of the playground. Before Lana shoots him, Mark fires first- the obnoxiously blaring alarm sounding off team blue’s victory. Jeno throws his gun down in frustration, you pat his back in comfort as you watch Mark laugh with Lana and Renjun. Who were you kidding?

Haechan shouts, “Let’s go on the dragon ball coaster next!”

When you’re all in line for the coaster, Haechan whispers a joke about the man who’s dressed as a clown a few feet away, enticing park-goers into the circus tent. You laugh at the joke. To Mark, he’s burning with jealousy. He watches when Haechan, his friend’s lips almost touch your ear, your giggle from Haechan’s flirting. Mark tightens his fist, averting his eyes from a scene. He has yet to tell you but he’s waiting for the right moment. He doesn’t want to come off as the overly-jealous boyfriend when you aren’t his. He snaps out of it when Lana tugs his arm, “Can we go in the tunnel? I’m not good with coasters.”

Before Mark can answer, Renjun jokingly gags, “The tunnel of love? You guys are bound to moochie mooch in there huh?”

When Renjuns says such a thing, you don’t hear any of Haechan’s jokes anymore. You don’t hear the sound of Jeno jostling Jisung and Jisung whining about it. You just wait for Mark’s response. He stares back at you in silence, Haechan even stops talking to look at Mark looking at you. Your eyes trail down to see Lana’s clutch on Mark’s arm, tightening when she makes eye contact with you, “Mark?”

You can’t hold it in. It just falls out from your lips, “You two should go, there’s limited seats in the coaster cars anyway since we have an odd number.”

It’s like someone’s fed you bitter medicine. You grimace at your words, almost regretting them instantly. Jeno and Jisung give you a knowing look, they know. Haechan laughs, “Very true point y/n, you guys can head along.”

Mark ducks under the cue line, Lana scrambling to follow after him. Everytime she tries to cling on to him, Mark removes her hands politely, declining. It makes you feel even worse. Jisung and Jeno carry on with their conversation. Haechan looks at the pair, “They make a good couple don’t they?”

You just nod. Maybe they do. After the roller coaster ride, you don’t feel any better. Jeno and Haechan are screaming to go again and Renjun and Jisung opt to go get snacks at the candy shop by the merry go round. Haechan nudges you, “Let’s go again?”

You smile at them, “Actually, I think I’m going to go home. I don’t feel well- I think I ate something that expired this morning.”

Jeno frowns, “Are you sure? We can take you home if you want.”

Waving your hands in refusal, “No, no, you guys have fun- I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

You begin to walk away from them, a rising feeling in your stomach. You dig your fingernails into the skin of your hands. Do not cry right now. Mark’s just one person. But you know that it hurts too much to forget about him. You almost don’t hear it when Haechan is shouting at you to wait up, grabbing your wrist.

“Y/n? Can we talk? Oh-”

It’s too late. The dam is broken, your tears are starting to blur your vision. Not right now, not in front of Haechan.

“Y/n.. what’s wrong?”

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes, “Nothing. I’m okay, I’m just tired and stressed about the business.”

Haechan’s face softens, he’s fiddling with the zipper on his expensive suede jacket, “I know this isn’t a good time but if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I can. I really, I mean really, like-”

You cut him off, “You like me. Right?”

Haechan becomes still. He freezes, slow blinking, “How did you know?”

“Any girl who can’t see it is more than oblivious. And, I appreciate it. I love you but not in the romantic way. I love you because you’re kind to me, you’re witty, and you make everyone in this group so happy. But I-I just I can’t- ”

“It’s Mark right? Jeno and Jisung told me.”

An awkward beat. You two don’t say a word. It’s just silence between you two, tears falling from your face and onto the pavement. Your nose is running and you’re sure that the other park-goers who pass by are staring at you two like some spectacle.

“I’m sorry, Haechan. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Hacehan sighs, looking up at the blush pink sky that’s being consumed by inky storm clouds, thunder beckoning rain in the distance. He thinks to himself, I knew it was Mark all along. Why did he even bother? At the time, he thought it was worth the shot. Now, he looks at your crying face, the way your long hair falls over your ears. He takes it upon himself to put one strand behind your ear, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb, “How could you hurt me? We’re friends and I’ll always care about you. I’ll be okay.”

You stare back at him, it makes the crack in your heart widen. The world is so unfair. It’s unfair to you and to Haechan, to your family. At least, Haechan has a chance of finding a soulmate who isn’t as broken as you. He’ll find some nice girl to laugh at his jokes, tease him when he whines, and buys him video games every holiday. You stand on your tippy toes because of how tall he is, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. You whisper, “You’re going to find a soulmate who will love you for eternity- I’m sure of it.”

>I think we must’ve known how it ended

When we wrote it on a napkin with tears and a pen

A couple of kids who pretended

Until it felt real in our heads

Haechan stares at the ground, not saying a word. You take off running, tears running down your face like it matches the hard beating in your chest. It always ends up like this. It’s like the world can’t give you one piece of happiness. You decide to walk home. Call it melancholy or stupid because you can catch a cold, but you’re not in the mood to ask anyone for a ride. You walk on the streets alone, rain coming hard on you. Your hair, your outfit, all of it soaked. And you’re sure that you’ve lost one of your hair ribbons from running. You don’t have strength in you to wish for sunshine. Concerned mothers ask if they can buy you an umbrella and you just decline politely. It hurts, the smell of the rain and mixing of your tears. Your feet are blistered and drenched. In your pocket, your phone vibrates continuously. Mark’s asking where you are and you don’t have it in you to see his stupidly dumb, dorky, adorable face.

Dragging your feet along the pavement, the rain only comes down harder. There’s barely anyone on the streets and cars zip by, splashing puddles onto the cement. Your lungs are choked up from your sobs. That’s when you hear it, a voice calling out to you from a distance. You don’t want to turn around but you can’t stop yourself from doing so. You can’t resist it.

>I guess I don't really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don’t know how to feel

I guess I don’t really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don't know how to feel

“Wait! y/n!”

You freeze in your tracks, your back faced to the boy who’s ran all this way to catch up to you. He’s got his hands on his knees, coughing from how fast he had to move. You still don’t turn around, you just feel it. “Let’s talk Monday, I’m not in the mood.” You speak slowly so he can’t recognize the cracks in your voice.

You feel Mark step closer to you, “Why’d you leave? I was going to talk to you, remember?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. You turn around, your tears blurring the vision of a rain-soaked Mark in front of you, “I can’t do this with you anymore!”

Mark freezes, his eyes trained on you. He doesn’t even blink. He stands a few feet away, a crushed and now wet gift box in his hand. “Y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, trying to breathe air into your lungs, “All this time, I don’t know what I feel. I’m so confused about all of it. You’re confusing me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“God, I’m so stupid!” You wipe your tears, the thunder roaring above your heads. The water doesn’t cease at all. The weather matches the burn in your heart. You heave, continuing, “I have to go. See you in class, Mark.”

Before you can walk away, you feel a firm hand on your wrist.

“Y/n. Look at me.”

You whimper, “I can’t,”

“I said look at me.”

Reluctantly, you face Mark, he’s still holding your wrist. You gaze up at him. His hair is matted against his forehead, cold droplets on his cheeks and trailing down to his chin. His jacket looks heavy and now, there’s barely space in between you. It all happens so fast, he drops the white gift box to the ground, clasping both of his hands on both sides of your face. He’s so close. You can feel the warmth of his breath, see every detail that makes him himself, every little memory and trait.

You search for some sort of sign, trying to calculate his next move, “What are you-”

He cuts you off by smashing his lips onto yours, powerfully and desperately. You melt and your mind’s being clouded by foggy thoughts, his arms supporting you by holding your body up. You’re surprised your knees haven’t given up yet. Mark molds his lips to yours, it’s a back and forth of wet, open-mouthed kisses under the crash of the rain. You both don’t mind. He continues to kiss you like that, eyes shut, pressing his lips harder and harder until you can’t breathe. Your fingers claw through his soaked hair, noses against cheeks, and you reel back to gain more access. His hands move to the make of your neck, his thumb swiping over your cheek. He groans when your tongue meets his, your bodies becoming hot despite the icy crystals falling down on you. You part from him, Mark chasing your lips in response, “Let’s go home and then we’ll talk.”

He swipes the remainder of your tears away, you nod. The whole time you walk home, Mark doesn’t let go of your hand. In fact, he holds your body close to his. You decide to go to Mark’s room tonight. He shuts his door, handing you a towel, “You shower first. I’ll go after.”

You protest, “I’m okay- I don’t really have anything to wear anyway.”

Mark throws one of his t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts at you, “Wear these, I don’t want you to get sick.”

You smile, “Thanks.”

After a nice long, hot shower- the rain seems more peaceful outside of Mark’s dorm room window. The only light source he has is a lamp that sits on his desk, the print on the lampshade covered with lions. He must’ve had that when he was little. When Mark’s down showering, he wears a grey hoodie and sweatpants and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to kiss Mark again. He sits on his bed next to you, moving his guitar out of the way, “So, what happened?”

You sigh, “When I saw you with Lara, I couldn’t, I don’t know, see you with someone else.” Mark chuckles, “Were you jealous?”

You look at him in the dark, punching his arm slightly, “No- don’t even dream of it.”

“What if I told you I was jealous of Haechan?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “You were?”

Mark rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding? He was practically whispering in your ear and being so close, you know he likes your right? He told me and I told him to go for it but I messed up, I shouldn’t have.”

You play with the frayed thread on Mark’s t-shirt, “He told me, I turned him down.”

“Why?”

“Ugh, you know why.”

Mark presses his finger to his eyes, covering his nose in embarrassment, “I like you y/n.”

You don’t even register when he says it.

You were still talking about something but you pause when Mark’s words echo in your head, “After that kiss? I was hoping that’s what you were going to say.”

You and Mark erupt into a giggling fit, shoving each other. Then Mark pulls out something from behind him, it’s the squashed white gift box. He bites his lip, causing it to glow pink, “I was planning on telling you today and giving you this but someone took off.”

“Sorry about that.”

Mark shakes his head, grinning. He pulls out a tiny, gold necklace that’s in the shape of a sun. Even in the dark, it glimmers. You touch it tenderly, afraid it’ll break in your fingertips, “You got this for me?”

Mark nods, “Can I put it on?”

You turn your back to him, holding up your hair in a ponytail for his nimble fingers to clasp the necklace onto your neck. The cold metal of it soothes your skin.

You touch it, running your fingers over the charm, “It’s beautiful, thank you. For the record, I like you too Mark.”

But in the back of your mind, there’s that shadow that always remains. It takes the form of fear, uncertainty- telling you that you do not deserve happiness or you do not deserve to love anyone. Still, it doesn’t stop Mark from leaning over to you and kissing you once again. He uses his fingers to trace your hair and the hollow of your neck, the side of your arm. It makes you shiver, it makes goosebumps rise in hills. You grasp his black locks, lips once again moving in a syncopated wave. Mark mumbles several hums, addicted to the taste of the way your lips feel. You want Mark. You want him so badly it kills you. You’re afraid to fall and it makes you want it even more. Pulling his hoodie, you fold your legs over his lap, straddling him. It makes him heated, blush spotting his cheeks and his neck. He runs his soft hands over the skin of your thighs and traces the waistband of your shorts. You’re trying your best not to lose self-control. It goes out the window when he removes his hoodie, his skin glowing under the lamp light.

You run your thumb across his collarbone and the curves of his abdomen and chest like you’re connecting constellations. You press your swollen lips to the base of his collarbone, rubbing your hand on the warm skin of his shoulder, “Have I ever told you that you’re gorgeous?

”Mark doesn’t answer, he’s busy tipping his head back, shutting his eyes from the feel of your lips on his skin. He opens his eyes before leaning over to move your hair behind your ear once again, nibbling on your earlobe. You accidentally moan when he moves to the juncture of your neck, it turns Mark on even more. He swipes his tongue by the base of your neck, “I.” A kiss. Don’t know if.” A kiss. “You remember this.” A kiss. Mark parts away to finish his sentence, “I remember you from that night at the hospital. Do you remember me?”

That’s when you snap out of it. You gaze back at him, replaying everything in your head. Your mom. The shrine. The gift. The sun and the rain. You slide off his lap, touching the area of your shoulder. The shadow in your mind, the voice in your mind telling you not to give in.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You nod, “Yes, I remember you. When we first met, I said that we didn’t because everything that day was so blurry that I cut it out of my memories. But for what it is, I remember you.”

Mark looks sad, immediately regretting he even brought it up. You mold your hand to his cheek, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad I met you back then, that will never change.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something but closes it when he finds a spot pinging, a tiny glow appearing on his hand. When you look down too, a glow appears on the same spot of your hand. After a couple seconds, the glow forms into the shape of a sun, Mark’s name glowing above it. Mark’s glow forms into the shape of a raindrop, your name glowing on his hand in cursive letters.

You both look at each other and back to your hands, “Does this mean-”

He lets out a breath he’s been holding, “You’re my soulmate?”

While Mark’s ecstatic, you feel a weight just drop in your stomach. No. Not right now. Mark realizes you’re staring at your hand, you look as if you had just seen a ghost. You almost wished you had.

“Is everything alright? Did I-?”

Instantly, you grab Mark’s hands, “I need you to listen to me carefully okay?”

Your hands are shaking now and you feel like you’re going to burst into tears again. This is the worst thing that you can do to someone, this is why you were reluctant to have Mark in the first place. You love him so much you can’t bear to hurt him like this.

“Y/n… what’s happening?”

Slowly and delicately, you lift off Mark’s t-shirt over your head. Mark’s expression is utterly, painfully blank. He stares at you, unmoving.

“What is that?”

Though you’re in the dark, it shines brightly clear. The skin of your shoulder is completely coated with this invisible matter, tiny bubbles floating through it. It resembles the rain. The thing is consuming your shoulder and gaps of your chest are missing. No person could tell if they didn’t see your naked body.

Mark leans forward, running his hand over your shoulder, his fingers go right through your body like it isn’t there.

“Please tell me this isn’t real. This is just a joke right?”

You place your head in Mark chest, your arms hugging his bare waist, “I found out my gift comes with a price. My body is becoming a part of the weather, a part of the sky above. Ever since that day I stepped into the shrine on top of the hospital, I saw water floating upwards- this is the consequence for toying around with nature.”

Mark doesn’t say anything. He thinks for a moment. He grips the comforter you both sit on top of. Then, he speaks, “Can’t I fix this?! There has to be a way- maybe if I go to the shrine and figure something out-”

You release him, putting your hands on both sides of his face, “You can’t. I’ve tried everything. I even went to a priest, a shaman, anyone I could find. You heard about the forecasters talking about the floods right? As long as I’m here, this city will be underwater. I’m a glitch in the system. I’m the virus in the code, blocking the world from being natural.”

>I guess I don't really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don’t know how to feel

I guess I don’t really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don't know how to feel

Mark begins to cry. Tears fall from his eyes, dropping onto the skin of your hand. All you can do is hug him as tight as you can, fearful that if you let go- you can’t have him back, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I’m so so sorry.”

Mark sobs into your shoulder for the next hour or so. When he’s tuckered out from crying, you put him to bed, standing up to walk towards Mark’s desk. You decide to write letters to your aunt, Mari, and your friends. You even leave one for Lana. When you’re finished, you slip under the covers next to Mark. You use your fingers to touch his eyelids and his nose, his cheeks and the ruffle of his hair because you know it will be the last time. Pressing a kiss to his nose, you settle against Mark’s chest, knowing the sky will claim you in the morning.

In the morning

The next morning, Mark wakes up from what he thinks is a nightmare. He sweats profusely, he feels dehydrated,and his throat feels like it’s being ripped open. The worst part is when his heart begins to settle, he sees his own hoodie and basketball shorts where you had lay next to him. Though he wasn't awake, he remembers it all. He remembers you sitting at his desk, you kissing his nose. He remembers your warmth. This can’t be the end. Mark takes the first morning train to the hospital. He calls his friends, Jeno, Renjun, and Haechan to the hospital. Over the phone, he tells them he’ll explain later, he just tells them that you need them. They drive there as soon as the train departs. From arriving at the hospital, everything is like a blur. The hospital staff doesn't want to let some random teenage boy up onto the room, warily suspicious of the request.

That's when Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun risk it all for you and Mark, tackling and holding back the employees even if they’re radioing security at that very moment. Mark races up the stairs after grabbing the keys to the door, he remembers when those were his keys. He talks to himself. Please. Please. I have to see her. I have to see her one last time. He even prays to whoever’s up there about it. To his dismay, when he gets up there- he doesn’t see a shrine like you had described. He kicks the metal railing out of anger, screaming into the air as he calls out your name. He demands the sky to give you back. No one answers and it kills him.

From up there, you wake up in an unfamiliar scenery. You sit up, groggy from sleep. Looking down at your hands, you don’t believe it. Water takes the form of you, replacing your skin with invisible liquid. You’re sitting on what seems to be like a cloud, fish made out of rain droplets flying all around you in schools. When you look above you, it’s another world. A whale made of thunder clouds lets out a bellow, voices of children laughing when lighting strikes. There’s a castle floating in the distance, each level of the castle painted with different hues of color. It’s all eerily beautiful. Despite its beauty, no one’s around. You’re all alone.

You touch your shoulder, only feeling nothing but water. Your body isn't real. It means the sky has completely and entirely claimed you. That’s when you feel a cold metal thing hanging around your neck. Mark. Mark’s still down on earth. You begin to hold onto it, the chain slipping out of your fingers and through the cloud that you sit on, you scream Mark’s name as loud as you can. You cry and you scream, sobs wracking your entire body. That was the last piece you had connected to Mark, your soulmate. This is your consequence. What good are soulmates if there’s only one half to the whole? What is the point? Even so, you love Mark so much. You miss him.

Mark screams at the sky, tears lining his eyes. He sees something shine above him, dropping onto the pavement by his foot. When he crouches down for a better look, it’s the sun pendant that he gave you last night. He squeezes it in his hand, screaming for you. There is no answer.

In front of him, some shape materializes from a blurry image. When it focuses, it morphs into a red archway just as you had told him in the library. He runs up to it, desperate for any sign of you. He asks your name. Still, there’s no answer. He takes it upon himself to do the unthinkable. Maybe he’s crazy, maybe people will think he’s insane. He doesn’t care, all he wants is to see you. He steps under the red archway. He feels it within his body. The bells that hang by strings chime, the water from inside the stone fountain begins to flow upwards like slow motion evaporation. Then all of a sudden, he’s falling.

Winds rip his clothes and rip through his hair, he’s screaming. Everything is a blur of white clouds and flying animals made of water. He hears the thunder and sees the lightning too, it’s all consuming and real. He knows he’s not on earth anymore. That’s when the clouds begin to part, he sees you sitting there. You’re crouched up on a cloud, head buried in your knees. He screams for you, causing you to snap your head up at the voice. It can’t be. It can’t be Mark. But it is, the boy who is your soulmate is falling out of the sky above, emerging from the clouds and reaching out for you.

The wind gusts him away from the cloud you’re sitting on, “MARK!’

“Y/N!”

You don’t care at this point. You jump off your cloud, the wind current carrying you to Mark before you’re free falling with him. You outstretch your hand to him, your voice can’t be heard in the screaming wind. He reaches to you, straining his face while doing so. When he manages to grab hold of you, he’s surprised to know it feels like he’s holding a person given your body. You fall together, hands enclasped in hands. You yell, “What are you doing here?! You shouldn’t be here!”

Mark holds on so tight, “I had to see you! I’m not letting you go, I don’t care! Aren’t you my soulmate? You have to stay with me!”

“Mark, if I go back down there, we all have to pay the price. Just let me go!”

“I’m not doing it y/n! I won’t do it! I don’t care! I choose you over the weather! I choose you over the sky! I just need you.”

You smile at him. Oh, Mark. Then, something else happens. Mark’s teardrop starts to glow golden, the light enveloping the entirety of his arm and spreading to his body. Even though your hand is made of water now, your sun starts to ping in syncopation with Mark’s mark. Golden light shimmers, rays exploding like sunshine as Mark holds you close. He’s there and he’s real, you can smell his scent of body soap that he uses, he’s so warm. The world blurs together in a series of colors and emotions, blues and yellows and silvers. It’s layers of rain and layers of snow, it’s as if you’re falling out of the cosmos and it’s endless.The sensation of falling ends. You open your eyes slowly, you find yourself cradled in Mark’s chest on the hospital’s rooftop. Your head aches and it throbs like hell, but still, you jump back when you realize that your body isn’t liquid anymore. Mark pulls your shirt down to check your shoulder, it’s nothing but human flesh and bone. You gaze back at Mark, “You saved me. You pulled me back down.”

It doesn’t take any time for Mark to kiss you the hardest he’s ever kissed you. You both sit there for a while, cradled in each other’s arms. Mark digs his nose into your neck, “I can’t live without you. You’re my soulmate, there’s no one else.”

You nod as you run your fingers through his hair, “You and me against it all then.”

1 year later

>Where did the time go?

Where did the time go?

When did you become someone I used to know?

Where did the time go?

After the day that Mark pulled you down from the sky, you thought that you’d spend every second with each other after. Instead, it was the opposite. Because you were on earth, the rains and the flooding never stopped. You weren’t able to control the weather anymore and the outcome that the forecasters had predicted became true. Almost 50 percent of the city was already underwater and still sinking, many people died trying to escape the floods or had to quickly evacuate. It disrupted everyone’s lives but at the time, Mark thought it was worth it for you. After that day, you told him you decided on something. You told him that you loved him and that you’d always find your way back to him, no matter what. After all, soulmates become linked. During your last semester of university, you wanted to spend time with your family and to travel the world with your aunt- in case the sky were to claim you once again. In case you were told that the world would end tomorrow, you wanted memories that lasted and time to tell all the people in your life that you loved them. You wanted to heal from your past, trying to find ways to connect to your parents like meeting their relatives or reading your father’s journal.

Somehow, Mark took it well. Though he was sad for several days, as were your friends that you were leaving (yes, you explained to them the entire situation, they still have a hard time believing it). You knew that things would change. You’d pick up small updates here and there, graduation was approaching and Mark had chosen to participate in a training program to become a singer. Haechan found his soulmate at his work, the other boys doing their own thing. You hadn’t seen Mark in almost an entire year. Now, today was the day that you and your aunt would be coming back from a backpacking trip in Europe. You knew Mark would also be coming home the same day. On the plane, you thought: Did he forget you? Would he have found someone else? Does he remember it all?

The moment you landed, you changed at home- walking over to the coffee shop where you and Mark had planned business meetings frequently back then. Walking through your city felt nostalgic to you, the way your younger self ran through the streets, praying for tomorrow’s sunshine or the way you and Mark would hang out together most weekends. Even the memories of hanging out with your friends before class, walking Mosby with your aunt during the autumn season, and pasting photographs on your dorm room wall felt like long ago. Upon entering the establishment, you closed your umbrella before taking a seat at an empty table. A barista took your order, who happened to be one of your other classmates from university. Even seeing them after a year, which isn’t too long- still felt surreal.

The bell on the cafe’s door chimes, the barista at the counter greeting the stranger. That’s when a familiar voice makes you snap your head up. There he is, standing in the flesh in front of you. Mark sports black dress pants and a button up, his figure taller, leaner- more muscular, has he been working out? Mark’s hair is gelled back, different from how he looked before. It looks good on him. His familiar smile spread across his face, a teardrop glowing golden on his hand, “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”

You nod, running into his welcoming arms.

@czennienet @neowritingsnet @dreamwritersnet

174 notes · View notes

so-i-dont-forget-again · 3 years

Text

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 163: Rito Village

It’s so incredibly eerie seeing Vah Medoh just hanging in the sky.

We ran into a stone talus on the path. Got lots of ore out of it. Perhaps I can ask Sidon or return to Gerudo Town to get the gems shaped so I can fit them into Sidon’s armor. I have jewelry pieces and such, but the gems have to be fitted to fit in the armor. Sidon only sent me away with on set of each of the gems I had on me, but what if they broke? It’d be good to have extra just in case. And maybe he could also make a set for Bossa Nova so he could get the powers of gemstones too.

We were also able to collect many arrows at a lizalfos camp.

We had to cross an extremely precariously thin bridge. The wind is vicious, it’s picked up so quickly over night. We almost fell off a few times and I actually did once and Kass caught me.

I keep seeing more and more shrines and towers off in the distance, and I’ve been marking them all on my maps. There are also a lot of wind… pin wheel things. They look like giant children’s toys. Kass told me that he once heard tales of how those were used to help with farming, like back in Hateno.

We ran into battle after battle getting to the village. Even the village entrance was surrounded by monsters. Turns out they’ve been practically flooding the area and the warriors have barely been able to keep up. It’s even more difficult with everyone fearing taking flight. I ended up spending the rest of the day trying to thin the numbers of the seemingly endless monsters. The warriors seemed impressed with my skill. They mentioned someone named Teba, about with my skill maybe I could knock some sense into him. If someone as skilled as me told him fighting the Divine Beast was impossible, surely he’d give it up and stop worrying his wife and son to death with how injured he’s gotten trying to fight the thing. Kass was oddly quiet when the guy was mentioned.

So Teba wants to fight the Divine Beast, perhaps he knows of a weakness I could exploit to get on the thing without getting shot… or how to even get up to it in the first place.

It’s freezing here at night; the village is right next to snowy mountains.

The village itself is located on a giant pillar like thing. There are smaller ones with little bridges connecting to them that lead to the village. The village goes up instead of being spread out on the ground and each level is a different district. The lower ones are shops, inns and the like, the one above it communal places for everyone to use such as kitchens and crafting tables and such, above that living spaces where houses are, and at the very top, the village elder.

We bought some warm clothes for me which has been so nice! Shedded Rito feathers are used in it making it so cozy, soft, and warm. The clothes are fashioned after the warriors clothing. I can see pieces of the warriors’ armor in Kass’ clothing. When traveling you need good armor, and what better armor than that of a warrior he told me.

He showed me a shrine in the village. When I was finished Kass was nowhere around. I asked Bossa Nova where Kass was, but he simply laid there as a yellow feathered rito child kept petting him, he did follow me as I went searching. Kotts was surprised, and glad to hear her father was back and she immediately ran off, assumable to go searching for him.

When searching I found a purple rito child running away from a green feathered rito woman. She was calling out to the child and begged me to stop her. I caught her before she could jump off the flying point. Kheel was miffed but understood she shouldn’t go out, but she couldn’t stand being stuck at home anymore. Amali thanked me so much. She has five daughters and since they were told to stay home because of the divine beast they had been getting needier by the moment and they were becoming a bit much to handle. Once Kheel was on her way home Amali wished aloud she could be a child again, but it was her children’s turn to be children and she was going to make sure they could do so and that meant her needed to be the bigger person for them.

She also wished someone was around, but as she said that Kass appeared, saying that he was here, and in each of his wings was one of his daughters, the others following him or riding on Bossa Nova’s back.

It’s so sweet seeing them all together, they’re just so loving and it’s lovely. Amali then recognized me, Kass had spoken much about me apparently, I’m his favorite person to run into when traveling.

It had been a hectic day and Amali hadn’t gotten the chance to cook dinner. I got to help while Kass occupied his children with tales of our adventures and played songs for them to which they sung along.

I really liked talking with Amali! She taught me several rito recipes and I taught her some of my favorites! When she cooks, she thinks of her daughters, and wonders what the future holds for them and the village. Her thoughts tend to get dark but getting something to eat usually helps. It’s nice, meeting someone else who finds comfort in food. I don’t know why, but it is. I asked her if anything else helped her when her thoughts got dark. Being with loved ones. But what if you couldn’t be with them, and their safety was exactly what scared you, if their safety solely relied on you and you don’t trust yourself to protect them. She told me it was okay to rely on others, it takes a village to raise a single child she said. When things are too great for yourself, you can rely on others, no matter how personal or great the task. Another, was trusting in their own strength some can’t protect themselves like her children but some can like Kass, so she trusts in his strength and love for them, that no matter what, no matter how long he would always return home. Is that how Hateno sees me?

She asked me if I ever cook for anyone, or if it was for me. She told me one of the greatest feelings is cooking for someone you care about. She then told me I should use the pot to cook something for my sweetheart. And she also hoped there was someone who would cook for me. Notts, Kotts, Genli, Cree, and Kheel burst in and hounded me, asking who my sweetheart is. Kass apologized for his daughters getting away from him. When I told them he was a powerful and kind prince from far away land they started chanting “It’s the fish prince!” Seeing my reaction Amali giggled a little and sighed, saying it was a young love.

Why must Sidon be able to tease me and get me to blush even when he’s not around. HE ALWAYS DOES THIS!

Kass and Amali set up beds for Bossa Nova and I and are letting us stay with them for the night. Well, they’re not really beds but they’re more like shallow, long baskets? I’m not sure how to describe them, but they’re comfortable.

I guess tomorrow I’ll go searching for that Teba guy and meet the elder for more information on the Divine Beast. Perhaps Kass knows a song about it? For now, it’s time to rest.

First Page , Previous Page , Next Page

10 notes · View notes

memory-mortis · 4 years

Text

For Whom The Bell Tolls [Bucciarati x Reader]

Hello there! First JJBA fanfic posted on this blog, let’s fucking gooooo- anyway, I feel kinda weird about this one, idk. It’s a mixture of fighting, then angst, then some fluff. Your Stand is named Parabola, after the Tool song. If you like rock/metal, I suggest putting it on when you rush in to help Bruno! CW: Graphic violence Word count: 4,777

Your leg bounced up and down in anxiety as you sat on the couch, a single meter of space between you and Bruno. The sounds of the motorboat from the outside filled the room inside the turtle, but you paid it no mind, too preoccupied with your thoughts running rampant in your head. The mission was nearing its end. Trish sat in the armchair across the table, hugging her legs close to her chest. You assumed she was nervous as well, and you could totally understand why. This was, after all, the first time she would meet her father and the fact that he was the boss of the biggest mafia in all of Italy did not help ease any of her anxiety. Or that’s what you guessed she must have felt like anyway. You would have been the same in her shoes.

You leaned back into the couch, spreading your arms over the back, but despite your efforts to look as relaxed as possible, your leg just wouldn’t listen. Fuck. It all felt too easy. The mission was going too smoothly. You hadn’t lost a single member of your team. That was a good thing, of course, but at the same time, doubt crept its way into the far back of your mind, gnawing at you, its whining for attention soon turning into a loud screech of nails against chalkboard. This is why you worked alone. The constant worry of losing someone close to you would hold you back and rapidly decrease your performance.

Was this a trap? Bruno had confided in you a couple nights back that him and the new kid Giorno were planning on taking over the mafia. But the boss was a huge enigma and none of you never really knew who he was - what if he had heard all of that? What if he knew? You bit your lip hard. Was he going to massacre the team - even if the only ones who knew about the plan were you, Giorno and Bruno?

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Bruno laid his warm hand on your thigh, stopping the rapid movement. Your eyes jolted to his face; brows furrowed in concern and deep blue eyes boring into your very soul. You exhaled a breath which you didn’t know you were holding back. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice as soft and caring as always. It was nearly impossible to keep things from him, but as your eyes ticked over to Trish, who was staring at you intently, you figured it would be best not to voice your thoughts. You didn’t want to give the girl any unnecessary worries.

You gave Bruno an apologetic smile before responding, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I guess I’m just anxious to meet the boss.” He continued to stare into your eyes and you felt your cheeks burn up under his gaze, but refused to break eye contact, as that would indicate that you were lying. A corner of his lips twitched upwards but he quickly forced the smirk back into a neutral expression. What was that about?

“How much longer till we get there?” he asked, finally turning away from you. You looked at Trish who was cocking an eyebrow at you. You huffed in response. “We’re almost at Rialto Bridge,” Fugo answered from above, “it’ll be at least another five minutes.” “All right. Keep going.” “Bucciarati,” Giorno joined the conversation, “what was the mission from the boss?”

Bruno inserted the disc he was holding into the laptop on the table and immediately a window popped up. “I’m reconfirming the mission from the boss right now,” he said as green letters appeared on the screen. You shuffled a bit closer to the capo, looking over his shoulder in curiosity. “I’ll read it aloud,” he announced from next to you, so close you could practically feel his breath. This was the only kind of intimacy you would get while on this mission, apart from the occasional disappearance into Sticky Fingers’ realm for a quick make-out. It was always small things like an arm wrapped around your shoulders, the back of his hand brushing against yours, or his hand on the small of your back while ushering you somewhere. You had learnt to appreciate these gestures in your time with Bruno. The two of you were very reserved and hated doing anything inappropriate in front of the others, especially since like half of your team was underage. But they were quick to catch on to the way the two of you looked at each other and would snicker to each other behind your back. At least Abbacchio was there to keep them at bay. You were very thankful for that.

Bruno went on to explain the instructions on the disc, such as how much time you had and all the strict rules that felt extremely paranoid to you. The boss wanted to meet only one of you and you immediately knew that Bruno would be the one to go. The rest of you were supposed to wait on the boat and stepping onto the island was strictly prohibited. You bit your lip once again.

“Giorno, Y/N,” the capo addressed the two of you when the boat came to a halt, “I would like to speak to you in private.” He stood up and walked over to one of the walls, creating a zipper on it. Giorno got inside the turtle without hesitation and all three of you stepped into Sticky Fingers’ void, Bruno closing the zipper behind you. The blonde raised an eyebrow at him in question. “I have a bad feeling about this. We need to have a plan B in case everything goes to hell.” You nodded in agreement. “Do you, um…” you started, blushing at the realization that Giorno was about to hear what you have to say, “do you have to be the one to go? Can’t Abbacchio do it?” Bruno’s gaze on you softened as he gave you a smile that could melt all the ice caps. “Y/N.” He cupped your cheek with his hand and you leaned into the touch. “I wish I could, but I’m the capo. I should be the one to do it, mia cara.”

You weren’t surprised. A little disappointed, yes, but you understood the gravity of the situation at hand. Sending an ordinary gangster could be viewed as disrespectful, who knows how the boss would react to that. And so you just gave him a sigh before bracing yourself, your expression shifting into its usual impenetrable hardness. That was the you that Giorno recognized, the strict determined glare you had when Bucciarati first introduced you to the gang.

“Then let’s make sure we’re prepared,” you said, all tenderness gone. Bruno let go of your cheek and also focused at the task. He loved that about you. The way you could separate your work from emotions in order to truly concentrate, although he would often have to remind you when you were not working anymore.

“Giorno, give me one of your brooches. We can use it as a tracking device. This is a chance for us to find out the boss’ identity.” Giorno did as he was told, giving his ladybug brooch life before handing it to the capo. “Now, if anything feels off, the two of you have permission to get off the boat, but do not let anyone else step onto the island. Got it?” You and Giorno nodded in unison. Bruno opened a zipper in his own jaw before continuing, “I’m going to hide a phone inside myself. If things go south, Y/N, I will call you, so be ready. Any questions?” This time you shook your head. He reached for the zipper to go back outside, but you grabbed his wrist and pressed your lips to his cheek quickly.

“Just for luck,” you mumbled and Bruno chuckled softly, stepping out. You and Giorno followed right after.

You couldn’t shake off the bad feeling as you watched Bruno and Trish walk away from the boat. You sat there, clenching the phone in your hand, eyes pinned to the bell tower.

“Jesus, Y/N, ease up a little. You’re like a dog waiting for its owner,” Narancia teased, poking you with his elbow and a grin plastered on his face. You gave him an annoyed glare. As much as he liked to remind Giorno that he was older, he sure acted way less mature.

“The mission’s not over yet. Sit back down and shut up,” you ordered and he listened immediately. Even though you were equal when it came to your position in the mafia, you still gave off the aura of a superior, not only because of your age, but also because of your dominant nature. The boys often argued who was more bossy, you or Abbacchio, and they always settled on a draw.

You looked over to Giorno. His brows were furrowed in concentration.

“What’s up,” you asked, scooting closer to take a look at the laptop in his lap.

“Bucciarati must have dropped the brooch down the elevator shaft. It’s… strange.” You clenched your jaw and once again pinned your eyes to the building. Biting your lip, you stood up and tossed your phone to Giorno who only managed to catch it in the last minute.

“W-Wait, Y/N, where-” you didn’t let him finish his question, interrupting him.

“It feels too wrong. I’m going. Pick it up if he calls.” With that, you stepped out of the motorboat, which made everyone else stand up and erupt into chaos.

“Hey, Y/N! The boss said to stay on the boat!” Abbacchio’s deep voice was the most prominent one out of the rest of the team.

“The boss can go fuck himself. Everyone stay here. No one except Giorno is allowed to get off the boat! And that’s an order from your capo!” That was enough to silence them all and you did not waste any more time, running inside the building.

Bruno skidded towards the unconscious girl, wary of his surroundings. The boss was nowhere to be seen, but he was definitely present. Things went south, just as he had expected. Picking up Trish’s arm, he sewed her hand back on using his Stand’s zipper. Disgusting. Doing all of this just to murder his own daughter and get away with it, an action so despicable it made Bruno want to throw up.

“I’d like to ask you why,” the boss’s voice suddenly echoed around Bruno, who instinctively destroyed the pillar nearest to him with Sticky Fingers. “What’s the meaning of this? I highly respected all the work you had done for me on this mission. Were you so happy to become a capo that you got greedy? Or did you overestimate your own powers and get cocky, thinking you could actually surpass me?”

Bucciarati did not answer any of his questions. Instead, he propped Trish’s head up, ready to flee with her body anywhere in case the boss attacked.

“When Trish wakes up, I’m going to tell her that her father didn’t even exist,” he said, his protective nature taking over him.

“Trish?” The boss sounded genuinely confused. “What about Trish? My daughter has nothing to do with you.”

“You could never understand my true feelings!” Bruno growled, unzipping his jaw to grab his phone. He promptly put it to his ear. “Y/N?”

“Bucciarati!” He was surprised to hear Giorno’s voice instead of yours.

“Giorno? Where’s Y/N?” He furrowed his brows. Why didn’t you pick up? Where the hell were you? Would he have to worry about you as well?

“Well, you see- she’s already on her way.”

“What do you-” Bruno gritted his teeth. If you were on your way there, it would be unwise to let the boss know. “Tell me his location,” he ordered instead.

“Yes! Right now, he’s at the bottom of the stairs to the charnel house. He’s right by the pillar that’s about two meters away from the stairs,” Giorno explained, “but wait, Bucciarati! Something is wrong!”

Bucciarati didn’t listen to his warning. He pinned his eyes to the pillar and called out Sticky Fingers, who pummeled it into pieces. A shadow stood behind the pillar, however as the pieces scattered, his eyes widened at the sight of himself. Sticky Fingers’ fist met his own chest.

“W-What…” was all Bruno could say, confused to find himself suddenly standing in the place of his copy. Nothing made sense. He was there, and now he was somewhere else? What the hell was going on? Was this the boss’s true power?

A deep voice boomed from behind him. “I decided to show you… as a parting gift. Since this is the end, I’ll fill you in. What you just witnessed and felt… was you in the future,” the boss clarified, “you from a few seconds from the past witnessed yourself in the future. This is my King Crimson’s ability! I erased time and leapt past it!”

The figure standing behind Bruno reached back, preparing to punch a hole straight through his chest. He was already swinging his fist–

But the contact never came, much to his dismay.

You rushed in at the last second. Seeing the position Bucciarati was in pumped adrenaline through your entire body and you leapt down the stairs, summoning your Parabola with her flaming sword. You jumped in between the two men, successfully chopping off King Crimson’s arm.

“Hands off my boyfriend!” you screamed, the fire of your Stand sparkling in your eyes, a true testament to your rage.

“W-what!” the boss choked out, stepping back just in time to dodge Parabola’s sword one more time, this time aiming to slice his entire body in half. Your cheeks were crimson red from the temperature rising both within and around you.

“Y/N!” Bucciarati called out from behind you. How glad was he to see you. Parabola stabbed its sword into the severed arm, twisting it around until it combusted into flames and turned to ashes. At that moment it dawned on Bruno just how angry you were. This wasn’t good, he knew about your temperament and how hard it was to snap you out of it afterwards.

“Bruno,” you tore him out of his thoughts, voice deep and venomous. “Go get Trish. Keep her safe. Get her out of here. I’ll fight him.”

“Y/N! He’s too powerful, you can’t take him on your own!” he refused, terrified just from what he had seen so far.

“I won’t. I suspect Giorno is already on his way here. Go!”

Clenching his jaw, Bruno turned and bolted towards Trish, only to suddenly find himself kneeling next to her. He froze. It happened again, the time skip. His eyes darted back to you, widening at the sight. King Crimson and you were in a draw, the enemy’s strong hand holding your arm, broken at the elbow, while Parabola’s sword was pressed tight against his throat. King Crimson chuckled.

“I like you. Your reflexes are fast. I was just about to punch a hole through your stomach, but you managed to dodge it, even despite the time skip,” he praised, however you did not respond, too focused on biting your lip to hold back your scream of pain. You weren’t about to let the boss have the pleasure of hearing you acknowledge the damage he did to you.

“Fuck you!” you spat, swinging the sword at his throat in an attempt to slice it. You were unsuccessful. It seemed like he already knew your next move and so he pulled back, taking your arm with him.

This time, you were unable to hold it in. A painful screech left your throat as your forearm disconnected at the joint and the muscles around it were forcefully torn apart. You took a few steps back before tripping and falling onto the floor, eyes pinned to the blood gushing out of your severed limb, and boy was there a lot of it. Your face turned ghastly pale, bile rising to your throat.

“Sticky Fingers!” you heard Bruno’s muffled voice and in mere seconds, the wound was zipped shut, the blood flow cut off. Unfortunately, it did not stop the pain. You took a couple strained breaths and growled, snapping yourself out of the shock.

“Y/N!” Bruno yelled, leaning over you and cupping your cheeks. He gave you a terrified look and you saw your reflection in his teary eyes. You looked like shit, to say the least. Your eyes widened once you noticed King Crimson looming behind Bruno, and you opened your mouth to scream anything, but a familiar sound stopped you.

It was the sound of Gold Experience’s powers, hard to explain, but very easy to recognize. King Crimson was pulled back and both you and Bruno watched as the ladybug brooch turned into a turtle, completely identical to Coco Jumbo, forcing the boss inside together with his Stand.

“Giorno must have put Coco Jumbo’s cells into the brooch before giving it life,” Bruno clarified. He summoned Sticky Fingers once again and opened a hole in the ground, sending the turtle down a water pipe. “Let’s use this chance to get away!” He looked at you and helped you get up clumsily, you were drowsy from all the blood loss, which pissed you off even more. Bruno hurried to pick up Trish and the three of you headed to the stairs, freezing at the sight of King Crimson standing at the top.

“Giorno Giovanna, huh,” the boss thought aloud, menacing aura all around him, “he must have joined this organization with the intent to betray me from the start.” You did not waste another second and called Parabola out. She was paler in comparison to just a few moments ago, but you weren’t going to give up just because you were missing a limb. That unbreakable determination was enough to feed her flames.

“Useless!” the boss cried out, King Crimson baring his fist and aiming right for Parabola’s weak point. He came to a halt when Sticky Fingers’ arm appeared right next to his head. Bruno was able to land a punch, when suddenly King Crimson stood a few meters away, this time coming for your boyfriend.

“Bruno!” you screamed in terror, your voice was already starting to get raspy from all the yelling. To your surprise, he did not show any fear.

“It wasn’t you that I was trying to attack,” he explained, and only then did you notice the zipper on a nearby column, “it was this pillar! Zipper, close!” He grabbed both you and Trish and once Sticky Fingers closed the zipper, you were pulled up, completely dodging King Crimson’s attack. You laughed at the enemy Stand’s angry expression as you continued going up, until the zipper closed around you.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Bruno asked upon setting you down. You stood on all four–well, three–and took laboured breaths, drops of sweat trickling down your face. The adrenaline had somewhat worn off and the pulsating agony in what was left of your arm returned. His soft warm hand tucked your hair behind your ear in order to allow him to get a better look at your expression. But you couldn’t allow yourself to ease up now, no, the danger was not quite gone just yet. You clenched your teeth and snapped at him.

“I’m fine. Let’s go. We can’t stop here. He’ll be here soon.” You struggled to get up and stopped as soon as Giorno’s voice reached your ears.

“Bucciarati! Y/N!” the blonde called out to you, dropping to his knees next to all of you. He noticed the state of your arm and flinched. “What happened?”

“We had a little disagreement with the boss,” you smirked, holding onto Bruno to stand straight. “Grab Trish and let’s get the fuck out of here.” Giorno nodded and picked unconscious Trish up, leading you all to the exit. The rest of the gang stood at the entrance.

“Bucciarati!” Abbacchio growled, approaching you.

“Bucciarati, what’s going on? Why is Trish still with you? Why is- why is Y/N missing an arm?” Narancia chimed in. You groaned, the constant reminder of your pain annoying you.

“I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” Bruno commanded, giving you a side glance. You avoided eye contact, focusing on the task at hand instead.

Bruno helped you sit down on the boat. You hated being pampered like this, but without an arm, your balance was off and the boat’s movements were making you unstable. Right after sitting down, he handed you Trish and you held her in your healthy arm, just to make sure she was alright.

“What the hell’s going on, Bucciarati?” Abbacchio asked. “We need an explanation. What the hell are you doing?” Bruno left a hand on your cheek and you gazed up at him with worry, before he turned around and stepped off the boat.

“All right. I’ll just come out and say it.” You watched the capo intently. “But I can’t explain everything right now, because there’s no time and danger’s right around the corner.” Everyone was silent and the atmosphere grew thick as Bruno paused. “The reason I brought Trish back is because I betrayed the boss just now.”

He just dropped the bomb like that, shocking the whole team. Well, except for you and Giorno that is, the two of you already knew.

“I’ll be leaving you guys now,” he announced. “If you go with me, you will also become traitors.”

“W-What…” Mista interrupted the silence.

“Bucciarati, you should explain. Some of them might want to follow you. We need people on our side,” Giorno added, which angered Abbacchio. The goth grabbed his collar, pulling him close to his face.

“What the hell is your deal, Giorno?!” he snapped.

“Abbacchio!” Your deep scolding voice made him freeze. All eyes were on your pitiful form now. Although it wasn’t unusual for you to scold Narancia or Mista when they did something dumb or got loud at the restaurant, there were only two or three instances in the past when you had raised your voice at Abbacchio. You did usually have deep respect for the man after all. “Let go of the boy. This isn’t his fault. It was meant to happen sooner or later.”

Abbacchio squinted his eyes at you in a scowl, but listened to your order and let go of Giorno, instead shifting his attention to Bucciarati, who took a look back at you and Trish.

Finally, he began explaining, “The boss had us act as Trish’s bodyguards so that he could kill his daughter with his own two hands. Because she shares his blood, she could have figured out his true identity. I found that out and… I couldn’t forgive him. I couldn’t just come back pretending I didn’t see that. That’s why I betrayed him!”

You managed to smile in spite of the pain shooting up your arm. That was the Bruno you loved. Compassionate, caring. He knew right from wrong, despite his years spent in the organization. And he was not going to continue ignoring the atrocities done by the boss any longer. You thanked Giorno for that. He was the force that started moving those gears inside your lover, the one thing that forced him to finally truly come out of his shell.

The rest of the team didn’t seem as excited about these news though. You understood their fears. The boss was ruthless.

“Are you insane, Bucciarati?” Mista was the last one you’d expect to hear that sort of thing from, considering his antics.

Abbacchio, on the other hand, sounded more composed, “You know exactly what happens to traitors, no matter who it is. The boss never lets anyone get away. Hell, Venice could already be surrounded by the boss’s elite guard!”

“You’re right, and that’s why I’m going to need help. If any of you are willing to accompany me, come down these stairs and get on the boat. But I will not order any of you to come with me.”

The decision was difficult, but in the end, it was only Fugo who remained on the island. For a moment it looked like Narancia would stay as well, but in the end he jumped into the water and swam after you like an absolute madman. The image made you laugh, but a jolt of pain stopped you, causing your laughter to turn into a groan.

“Right,” Bruno turned around after helping Narancia get into the boat. “Giorno, get Y/N into the turtle and fix her up.” You gulped. Giorno’s healing powers were far from perfect, he could fix about anything, but there was nothing to stop the pain. You weren’t about to back out just because of fear though, and so you got into the turtle together with Trish. You lowered her down onto the couch and took a seat on the other end, Giorno joining right next to you.

“Bucciarati,” he called out to his capo, “your zipper.” Bruno got into the turtle as well and took off the zipper around the end of your arm. You hissed as blood poured out.

“Fuck!” you yelled in a poor attempt to somehow relieve yourself. Bruno furrowed his eyebrows at the sight and crouched in front of you, taking your healthy hand into his.

“Hold on to me,” he said and you clenched his hand.

After five minutes of your hissing and yelling, Giorno was finally done with your arm. It was still very much sensitive and moving it around felt weird, but it was there and you were thankful for that. You would have thanked him, but you were exhausted, and it was evident in the dark circles under your eyes.

You were about to get up, but Bruno’s hands on your shoulders stopped you, pushing you back against the couch.

“You need to rest.”

You scoffed, “I can rest later. We’re still in danger.”

“Clearly he’s gone, Y/N, otherwise he would have attacked by now,” Bruno reasoned. You cocked an eyebrow at him. Giorno decided it would be better to give you two space and left the turtle.

“We can’t know that for sure, Bruno. He could be anywhere. We don’t know anything about him, maybe he has some other powers. We should be ready to defend ourselves at all times.” You grabbed his wrists and pushed him away, standing up.

“Stop,” he said, but you continued walking, so he hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind. You clenched your jaw.

“You can relax now, Y/N. He’s gone. The danger is gone. I’m here. I’m alive.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t want to relax. You didn’t want to, because you knew that you would immediately become vulnerable in front of everyone. So instead you opted for keeping yourself on edge constantly, distracting yourself with worrying about danger. But that was hard to do with Bruno’s warmth surrounding you and the sweetness coating his voice. You bit your lip, failing to keep the tears from spilling over.

“You could’ve died,” you whispered, voice shaky from the lump in your throat. The tension in your body dissipated and you hid your face in your hands. Bruno pressed his lips against the back of your head.

“But I didn’t. You saved me. You did well,” he reassured you and with that, your walls shattered. A sob left your lips and Bruno immediately turned you around, pressing you against his chest. Your hands clutched his clothes to remind you that he was there, he was well and alive.

After a while of him stroking your hair, your sobs finally subsided and the tears stopped falling. You looked up and he cupped your cheek with one hand, gazing into your eyes with a sad smile.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss into the palm of his hand.

“Do you want me to stay?” You decided to be selfish for once and nodded, which earned you a soft smile and a kiss to your forehead. “All right.” He laid down on the couch and you joined, lying down on him. Resting your head on his chest, your eyes fluttered close at the sound of his heartbeat. Bruno stroked soothing circles on your back and soon enough, your breathing grew even.

“I love you,” he mumbled, and you hummed in response right before falling asleep.

#buccellati x reader #bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo part 5 #vento aureo

54 notes · View notes

dawniebb · 4 years

Text

Closure

So...back again with another marathon I’m hosting (?) with @healing-winston-pratt <3! about our canon divergence because canon is for the weak :) however, this time you’ll only see me so...yeah, guys, I’m sorry, bEAR WITH ME LMAO AFSGHJADFGSHJA :’)))

I thiiiiiink this is...the last marathon we’ll do about this I think, and it’s a series of four fics called “Closure” which is...basically, what the name says :’) it’s about people finding closure for the ones they lost throughout the books AND before the books this is about Georgia hello darling you’re wonderful im sorry mm killed you because we thought it was..necessary after that half-assed Supernova epilogue uwu. So yeah. The first one in this Closure series is Georgia :’)

You can use this post as a masterlist for backround bc we don’t have one yet

And the tag list (If you want to be addedOR removed just notifiy us pls): @novadreamer95438 @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @novas-tunnel-of-anxiety @obsidianfr3sk

ALSO I NAMED THESE AFTER SONGS :) So the link will be in the lyrics I hope

Georgia

I Kill Giants

Heavier heels His mourning concealed On the saddest of days Why couldn’t we save you?

A couple days after the supernova, once all the funerals had passed and things were going back to normal, Adrian went to visit his mom.

Georgia Rawles was buried inside a very ostentatious mausoleum, located in Gatlon’s cemetery.

Nobody had ever confirmed that, but rumor had it, it resembled the structure of Pops’ old house, by the edges of the city, close to the abandoned train rails; it had similar dimensions and structure, but the décor was a hundred times better, with white pillars, stairs that led to the entrance and a wooden gate with a carved R; at some point in time, all members of the Council would be there.

Right now, it was only Mom and Evander.

The mausoleum was always surrounded by gifts that people left there. And right now, since Gatlon was grieving Blacklight, the fence was open to the public.

Though…

Well…

Whether the fence was locked or not wouldn’t have mattered under normal circumstances because, obviously, Adrian had his own copy of the key, though he rarely went to see her. Not because he didn’t love her (he did. A lot. And he missed her every day despite having been torn from him when he was just a kid), but because…

Because he liked to remember her as what she had been, not for the fact she wasn’t here anymore; he liked to see her in family albums and draw her, but the mausoleum was a very…sad place for him, almost depressing.

It was also a place where he liked to be alone with Mom. And sometimes talk to her. After all, they lived in a world where people had powers; everything was possible. Which meant that, deep down, Adrian still had faith she would answer someday.

But she never answered.

Not really.

But it wasn’t like that made Adrian mad, because maybe she was too busy doing something else; maybe she was very comfortable…wherever she was. And that made him feel rather happy.

To know she was at peace.

So, slowly, Adrian walked up the stairs, and then opened the gate.

The smell of candles and flowers greeted him, for the two headstones were being visited more often these days.

The Renegades’ slogan was written on top of the wall where the headstones rested.

Bold. Valiant. Just

Written in shining silver, so they didn’t take much attention from the spots where the two fallen Council members laid.

Right now, the bottom of the wall was upholstered with Blacklight and Lady Indomitable plushies, photographs, and tons of flowers.

So many flowers, that Adrian had to, manually, remove some of them to make his way to the wall; first, he left the bouquet he had brought for Evander; he had put some snacks in it, because it had seemed…funny in a bittersweet way at the moment, and also tons of polaroid photos Adrian had taken with him some years ago, when he was trying to entertain him during a Christmas dinner.

Evander had always been Adrian’s favorite Council member, because he…was young enough to treat him as brother; of course, Evander was an adult, but that didn’t change the fact he was younger than 14 when Adrian was born, and they had always shared a rather close relationship. He was annoying at times and, during the last months he was alive, he had fallen into a bottomless pit of madness, which deformed his personality until he almost acted like a dictator.

Of course, Adrian didn’t condone that, but he still had good memories regarding Evander and he doubted he would ever get rid of those memories. Mostly because…somehow, he didn’t want to.

“May the light guide your way.”

Evander Wade. Blacklight.

Brother, husband, father, friend and hero.

Adrian supposed the right thing to do would’ve been saying something, but he hadn’t come here today to talk to Evander, so he didn’t have anything to tell him. Not really.

So he just touched the headstone, but then he moved on to his mom’s, which was to the left of Evander’s.

And there she was.

There was Mom.

“When in doubt…fly.”

Georgia Rawles. Lady Indomitable.

Sister, mother, friend and hero.

And also gone too soon, like Evander, but nobody ever wanted to say that, because it was depressing.

Gulping, Adrian placed the bouquet of white and pink roses on the floor, and ran his fingers through his mother’s name.

“You can’t see it…but I have a lot of bandages beneath my clothes.” He told her, barely able to laugh. “…because I got a ton of tattoos. I don’t know if you would’ve approved that but…yeah. I already took them off, though…in the most violent way you can imagine. But I’m doing good.”

His sentences, like it always happened, were met with cold silence, as Adrian ceased caressing the name and hugged himself, feeling the bandages that were wrapped around his body; the wounds barely hurt anymore, though. After all, they had been treated by a prodigy healer; the process was supposed to be this fast.

“I hope you’re doing good too.” Adrian said, taking a deep breath, before staring at his feet.

If he had to find a word to describe what he had been feeling since the battle of the cathedral, that word would’ve been “shock”. Because, there in the cathedral, it had been the first time somebody had told him what he had done. And his heart had been feeling heavy ever since , and Adrian didn’t know how he was going to get up from this one.

Maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe it was something that would torment him forever unless he got help, which didn’t seem so unlikely, given that he had his dads were supportive and also willing to help him go through the process and everything.

But everything was way too heavy, just…

Knowing what he had done, even if it hadn’t been directly his fault.

“Something that seems…extremely weird, in the good sense…. Is that…” Adrian coughed. “I crossed paths with the little girl you were trying to save, and you would be happy to know she’s an amazing person…and…well…she’s my girlfriend now so, you know…she…she’s just amazing, and I love her; I guess you would’ve loved her too...”

His voice was starting to break, but Adrian chose to continue, adjusting his glasses using his pinky and sniffing.

“She’s also very broken. But she’s trying to get better, and forgive…” He said. “….I like to believe you would forgive me too, you know? Because I…I don’t know. We both know what happened. And I…”

I’m sorry.

“I loved you so much. I still do. I’m sorry my fear of losing you was bigger, until it took you away. You didn’t deserve that.” Adrian had no longer control over his shaking hands. “You were supposed to be here; to meet Nova; to be with me and I’m…I’m sorry I…I’m so sorry, mom.”

He shook and shivered, but he didn’t cry.

Not yet.

Because when he touched his mother’s headstone again, he just remembered the texture of her skin; it was always soft and warm, although her hands were a little calloused, and she smelled like violets and sun (even if people tended to insist on the fact that the sun didn’t smell like anything); he remembered how he wrapped his legs around her waist as she held him into her arms and danced with him around the apartment to Have You Ever Seen the Rain, although Adrian didn’t understand the lyrics back then and he was yet to have the guts to listen to the song again; he remembered how Mom spun around, kissing his nose, and at some point she got so lost in the moment, that her feet lifted up from the ground.

That had been a good day. And those had been a good 6 years. And while Adrian rested his head against the headstone, he almost felt the fabric of her pants, as he saw her taking out her Lady Indomitable costume and begged her to stay at home, just for today.

Now that he was older, he had grown to accept that had been her job, and he was her legacy, although not everything that was left of her.

This world. The whole twisted yet powerful everything this world had, was what was left of Georgia Rawles. And Adrian would forever be proud she was his mom, just like he was proud Hugh and Simon were his dads. Because he had fallen in the safest place he could think of.

Adrian remained like that for a while, pressing his forehead against Mom’s headstone until, through the thick blank noise, he heard knocking; three gentle knocks on the gates by the entrance, which made him jump.

And, when he turned around, all he could see was Hugh.

Which…didn’t surprise him at all.

He was wearing a jacket and jeans, but Adrian could see that his blue shirt was the one he often wore to sleep; besides, he was fidgeting with the car keys between his fingers, which only confirmed what Adrian had been thinking before leaving the house.

He should’ve had notified his dads he was leaving early; he had risen with the sun, only to be here in the cemetery before everyone else could. But he hadn’t told Hugh or Simon.

And, lately, Simon had been having trouble to sleep, so by the time the sun was rising, he often went to Adrian’s room and slept on the couch; he supposed he had tried to do that, and then he hadn’t found him, which led to immediate chaos.

Yet, Hugh didn’t seem mad.

In fact, once he put the car keys inside his pockets, he smiled.

“Mind if I join you?”

Adrian didn’t answer, but Hugh understood it was a positive answer anyway, so he went ahead; the sound of his steps created a faint echo, and when he was next to him, Hugh wrapped an arm around Adrian’s shoulder, gently.

Then, they both stared at the headstone in silence, as if they both were having their own private conversation with Georgia, in a crowded, yet very intimate scenario; a phenomena that went on until Hugh scoffed, laughing at his own thoughts, and looked at Adrian, saying:

“When your mother was pregnant, her baby bump remained hidden for quite some months; she only had a small bulge in her lower stomach…and we would always tease her about it saying that was just her abs..” He laughed. “…which would make her mad, of course. Georgia was such a mom. I feel like she really wanted to have a child, despite having acted as mom towards all of us…and she wanted to have a pretty baby bump, because she wanted to remind herself you were there….that, and cute maternity clothes, I guess.”

In response to the sudden comedy break, Adrian snorted, adjusting his glasses again.

“We can’t judge her.” He told Hugh. “We’ll never be pregnant, but we gotta admit maternity clothes are cool.”

“Oh, they were cool. And pretty expensive also. Geez, Adrian, thanks for forcing us into involuntary fasting.”

“Dad!” Adrian chuckled, punching him in the ribs, despite knowing Hugh hadn’t felt anything.

Hugh laughed with him, but his laugh, suddenly, became inexistent, and Hugh scratched his own chin, staring at the headstone. Smiling at it, and probably waiting for something that would not happen.

So he decided to speak again, although his voice sounded more hesitant, and the most…insecure Adrian had ever perceived it.

“Your dad was going crazy.”

Adrian already knew that, even if nobody had told him.

“…but I told him to calm down, because I just…knew you were here. It’s where I always come when things are rough.”

To that sentence, Adrian stared at his feet, but not yet pulling away from his father’s touch. He knew Mom and Hugh had been pretty close but, if he wanted to be honest, he had no idea he liked to come here to visit her.

“Adrian, you see…” Hugh didn’t stare at him either.

“Your mom was amazing. She was…one of the most amazing people I’ve ever meet, and I don’t think anyone that I happen to meet in the future will top her…she was an outstanding mom and just…the coolest best friend I could ever ask for.”

As Hugh’s body seemed to grow weak, Adrian felt the burning need to hold his hand, but it was far.

“…and I miss her every day, just like you; and your dad, and Tamaya, and Kasumi, and…” For a whole second, Hugh’s lips quivered when he came to the realization he had been this close to list Evander, before noticing he was also gone, so Adrian remained staring at him.

And Hugh stared back, his blue eyes looking vulnerable and just…

Weak.

So, so weak and tiny.

“You were her son. And she loved you more than I’ve ever seen a mother love her child…and I know how much you’re hurting, because I know Simon and I will never be able to fill the space she left…believe me, we’re not trying to replace her…but we’re doing our best to be enough.” He said.

“….and I understand your pain…and your grief and all the awful things you might feel when you realize you’ll never see her again…because, Adrian, I…” His lips quivered again, but this time Hugh didn’t mind to stop him.

However, Adrian could see he was choking and stumbling on his pride, which stood stubbornly in the way, until Hugh decided he was stronger, let go of Adrian and held his hand instead, tightly.

“…I need her too.” He said, almost relieved, as if a secret of a lifetime had slipped from his mouth.

“I need her so much, and I miss her so much…because she was...like a sister. She was my best friend and she’s gone, and I have to live without her and…Sometimes I feel so lost…and I just know...” As tears streamed down his face, Hugh sniffed and looked away.

“…I just know she would’ve known what to do; she would’ve known how to stop this world from falling apart… and if she were here, Evander would’ve met his baby.” Hugh stared at him again, hiccupping.

“And you look so much like her, Adrian. And I miss her so much.”

Unable to see through the fog in his glasses, Adrian removed them, as his own chest went up and down, and he barely had time to process this was the second time he had seen Hugh cry.

“I miss her too.”

And as they wrapped their arms around the other, they mourned Adrian’s mother in the most peacefully painful way possible, just the two of them, in a mausoleum full of flowers, in front of her headstone, coming to the realization that they were damaged; far too damaged, but since they were still sane enough to admit it, it wasn’t too late for them to get help; maybe they would get help, and things would finally get better when they escaped the stunted grief and all the pain Mom had left behind.

He hugged Hugh tightly as he could, feeling as if this was the first time he had ever hugged him, or hold him close.

And he felt something.

Through the dread and the pain, Adrian felt as Mom let go of his hand, leaving a cold emptiness on his wrist, which later turned into warmth due to his own temperature, and Hugh’s hold.

“Simon and you are enough.” Adrian sobbed.

“You’ll forever be enough, and I’ll never be able to put into words how much I love you.”

He meant it. Because, again, Adrian felt safe right there where he was; he felt safe in Hugh’s arms, just like he felt in Simon’s… but there were some things that needed some talking.

Things that needed some type of resolution.

Things that were awful.

Things that were broken.

Things that were shattered.

But when the world crumbled down, as long as people had the willingness to do it, it wasn’t too late to build it again.

And, after all, the first step into fixing something, was accepting the fact it was broken.

27 notes · View notes

warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years

Note

you mentioned your headcanons on when and if other finweans forgive maedhros... if you wanted to share some (or all) of them I'd be very interested!

Okay, wow, I have a lot of thoughts on this….it basically covers large parts of a fanfic that I’ve had broadly plotted out in my head for a long time but am completely incapable of actually writing.

This is going to be very long (EDIT: extremely long, apparently) - and rather messier and more scattershot than my usual posts - so I’m putting it under a cut. This one only covers events in the Halls of Mandos; I would need another one to lay out post-Mandos headcanons, if I can put it together.

Fingon is deeply conflicted and unhappy about Maedhros; he’s horrified by Maedhros’ actions, but he can’t stop caring about him even if he wanted to, and he doesn’t know what’s happened to him after death and isn’t sure he wants to know. For at least the first couple hundred years that Maedhros is in the Halls, he’s in extremely bad shape and is not communicating with or visible to anyone. (This is not unusual for elves who are wrapped up in their own thoughts or deliberately avoiding others.) And between Maedhros’ actions, and the manner of his death, and the Oath, Fingon can’t be sure of whether he’s even in the Halls, or if he refused the Halls and is a lost spirit, or even if he’s in the void.

Fingolfin is sympathetic to his son’s pain but doesn’t really see any hope for Maedhros, and tries to say that it’s hard, but that sometimes you have to accept that you’ve lost someone you love to evil and they’re not coming back. Fingolfin’s lost his brother (who he still has complicated feelings about. Aulë has lost people. Even Manwë has lost his brother -

That comparison doesn’t go over well and from that moment Fingon isn’t speaking with his father anymore.

When Fingon decides that not knowing is worse than anything he could know about Maedhros’ fate, he goes to Námo and asks whether Maedhros is in the Halls, and Námo tells him that yes, Maedhros is.

He looks for Maedhros. He seeks quiet corners of the Halls, and sings, and hopes Maedhros will hear him, and one day he senses in his spirit that someone else is present near him. He continues to sing, simple things, and then moves to the song he sang at Thangorodrim -

- and Maedhros is there, ragged and shaking and trying with all his might not to look at Fingon. Stop he says. Please, stop. Why must you torment me?

The last thing Maedhros wants is to be reminded that once, he had a chance to do right, that once, he had a chance to recieve mercy and he has thrown it away, to be reminded of the gaping gulf between the person he wanted to be and person he is. You still think you can rescue me? he says with a twisted smile, and holds out his hand. Across the entire palm and to the first knuckle of the fingers, it is charred black. Fingon’s expression goes stubborn and he takes Maedhros’ hand in his own - and then releases his hold in shock. The hand is hot - not as with fever, but as metal newly withdrawn from a forge. Maedhros gives a bitter laugh and disappears.

Fingon cannot find him again.

This brings the story roughly to the start of the part I wrote in response to your last Ask, where Maedhros goes to Nienna and recieves, beyond his hope, mercy and forgiveness and help and healing. That’s not the endpoint of his journey to recovery, but it’s the beginning; it gives him the knowledge that there is someone who can love him absolutely unconditionally, that he’s not beyond redemption. And that gives him the foundation he needs to start facing the people he knew and the people he’s harmed and answering to them and seeking their forgiveness.

The Halls have a will of their own, if you let them; their geography is as much spiritual as physical, and they’ll lead spirits to the people whom they need to resolve things with. Fingon isn’t the first person Maedhros talks to, but he’s one of the first.

*****

FIc snippet

It would have been easier if the Halls had brought him to the Teleri, or even the Sindar. He could bear condemnation from them.

He did not know how to bear it if Fingon turned him away. As he had every right to.

He wanted to flee to some abandoned corner of the Halls and never face Fingon again.

He wanted to lay at his friend’s feet for a year, for a yen, for an Age, and beg Fingon not to despise him forever.

He forced himself to do neither of these things.

Fingon had still not seen him; his eyes were shut, his head bowed to his knees and his lips moving wordlessly, and it was the evident misery in his hunched shoulders that gave Maedhros the courage to kneel down beside him say softly, “Fingon.”

He did not seem to hear. “Fingon. Fingon.” Fingon looked up, made a choked noise of surprise, and grabbed Maedhros by the shoulders, staring into his eyes for a long moment, and then pulled him into an embrace. “Thank you,” Fingon said, low and fervent, and Maedhros knew it was not him that Fingon was addressing.

“You’re all right. I mean - not all right, but - better.” A spirit’s appearance in the Halls drew on both their true condition and their perception of themself. Maedhros was clothed in rags, his hair matted, but his hand no longer burned and he could meet Fingon’s eye with a look that, though still deeply ashamed, was no longer tormeted.

“The Lady of Sorrows has been very kind. Far more than I could ever deserve. Though in truth even to be in the Halls is better than I deserve.”

“Maedhros, surely you cannot believe that you deserve the Darkness?”

Maedhros’ laugh was rueful. “Deserve it? I believe I specifically requested it. Demanded, even! What does it say, that the very worst anyone could do to us would be to take us at our word? But by the end I earned it more in keeping the Oath than in breaking it.”

The question refused to be suppressed. “Maedhros, why? We beseiged Angband for over four hundred years without attempting regain the Silmarils, and the Oath did not trouble you then, yet the moment one was in the hands of Elves - ” Fingon paused. “Maedhros, please tell me it was not because of my death.”

Maedhros’ words came halting. “I blamed myself. I blamed the Valar. I blamed the Doom. I told myself that abandoned you again, this time to your death. I told myself that if this was how I was repaid for trying to win the war, if the Powers had mandated that any attempt to do good could only turn to evil and the destruction of all that I loved, then they had no right to judge me for doing ill. I told myself that I had chosen war on Angband to avoid war on Doriath, and if they were going to punish me for that choice, well, then they were in no position to complain when I made the other.

“I was wrong. We were not wrong to fight Angband, but on my part the Fifth Battle was waged in service of the Oath, and everything done in its service turns to ill. Good becomes evil. Evil becomes…worse. The words we intended to drive us against Morgoth turned to his service, and we did his work.

“I am sorry for what I have done. I will spend the rest of Time being sorry for it. We should have thrown ourselves against the walls of Angband and died there rather than ever again raising our swords against our kin. You have every right to despise me.”

Fingon, lacking words, took Maedhros’ remaining hand and lifted the burnt palm to his lips. “I will not leave you. I hate what you have done - I would rather have seen you dead on my blade than do any of, though that would have killed me - but I will not leave you.” He wrapped his arms around Maedhros again. “Please don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

The dead have times of rest of thought, even if it not what the living would call sleep. A little time later found Fingon resting with his back against a pillar and Maedhros curled on the floor, his head pillowed on Fingon’s feet and an expression of deep contentment in his face.

*****

My thoughts on Aredhel and Maedhros are in the Halls are largely covered in this post.

*****

Turgon, in contrast, is exceptionally angry at Maedhros, especially about the Third Kinslaying, and not at all inclined to forgive or to care for apologies. This is also wrapped up in Turgon’s own guilt about the Fall of Gondolin. He feared that he had left the remnant of his people defenseless against Morgoth, but Ulmo found a way to protect them through the waters at the Mouths of Sirion; instead, they were defenseless against Maedhros and his brothers. And to Turgon, Maedhros’ renunciation of both the Oath and the Silmarils after his death is meaningless, because he did so only after he had lost any possibility of achieving the Oath or obtaining the Silmarils. How can it mean anything to renounce evil only after you’ve lost the ability to commit it or to gain anything from it?

Maedhros and Turgon have an intense conversation on these points (well, intense on Turgon’s part) while Maedhros is in the Halls. Maedhros, for his part, while he does want to apologize and beg forgiveness, does not really have any expectation that Turgon will forgive him; his hope in his early conversations with both Turgon and Fingolfin is mainly to arrange a detente where the Nolofinwëans can get back on good terms with each other by dint of all of them agreeing to just not talk about Maedhros (who is the primary subject of contention between them). This, he does succeed at.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #cliff notes for my unwritten fanfic #maedhros #fingon #turgon

64 notes · View notes

starlit-serenade · 4 years

Text

Along the Red Thread | Chapter 3

🧣 Summary: It is said that a red thread connects people who are soulmates and destined to be lovers, regardless of place and circumstances. What makes this difficult is that you stopped believing in love a long time ago. OR. You go to Korea to visit your father after several years. There, a mysterious red thread that seemingly only you can see shows up when you least expect it, and you meet a childhood friend you’d never thought you would see again.

🧣 Chapter 3: 4,342 words

🧣 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju/Xion; a couple of OCs;

🧣 Rated: T / Warnings: Mentions of divorce (Y/N’s parents); Mentions of abuse (physical); Instances of abuse (non-physical); Mentions of child abuse; Swearing / Genre: Angst; Fluff; Soulmate!AU (Red Thread of Fate); ChildhoodBestFriends!AU; Happy Ending;

《 Boy Group Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Series Masterlist 》

“Sunho, let’s go to school, alright?” you call out. Sunho runs out of his room, all dressed for school with his bag ready, and he grabs onto your hand. “Ready to go?” you ask. He nods aggressively.

It’s been just over two weeks since you arrived in Korea, and you’ve been adapting quite well to it here. You’ve spent most of your time reading to Sunho, who loves spending time with you. You’ve read him ‘The Kissing Hand’ about once a night as a bedtime story, and several other books throughout the week, and you have been taking him to school for the past week, while his mom and your shared father go to work. It’s easier for them, plus you feel helpful and you get to know your little half brother.

You and Sooyeon haven’t gotten along much since she yelled at you two weeks ago. Ever since she talked about and criticized your upbringing by your mother like that …

You’ve felt the tension between you and her ever since then. Your anger has gone down, but it’s difficult to see Sooyeon and not rehear those words she spoke. She hasn’t apologized, hasn’t even suggested that she feels bad for insulting you or your mother. You and Sooyeon have had quite a few disagreements like that since then, about stupid things like your screen time–you’re a college student on vacation and she isn’t your mother–and eating habits. Sooyeon started staring and watching you as you simply exist. It’s really as if she’s looking for something to yell at you.

You walk with Sunho to the bus stop you take to get to his school. The stop isn’t too far from your father’s apartment, so you hold his hand as you lead him onto the bus, and hold his hand throughout the ride.

After you wave Sunho off, and he waves goodbye back before joining some friends his age and disappearing into the school building. You hum as you head back to your dad’s apartment, hands in the pockets of your pants as you listen to music through your earbuds. As you walk back toward the apartment, something on the ground catches your eye.

You frown and move off to the side of the sidewalk, kneeling down as if to tie your shoelaces, and you reach over to pluck up the end of the red thread, lying on the sidewalk.

You stand up again, clutching the thread tightly in your hand. It’s been just over a week since you last saw the red thread. It’s a different day, different place, but it almost certainly is the same red thread. You look up, and watch as the thread, a bright red, runs down the sidewalk ahead of you and turns left ahead, disappearing around the block.

You frown. No one else seems to notice or see the string. No one did the last time you saw it, either. They continue about their days, stepping over and around it without even sparing it a glance.

You follow the red thread, coiling it up in your hand and rolling it into a ball as you walk along the path. Miss Sooyeon would probably be appalled by the fact that you’re picking up a random string on the ground. To be fair, you have no idea what this string is, where it leads and where it’s been. You have no idea how dirty it is. But at the same time, this is the second time you’ve seen this thread since you arrived here in Korea. Last time you saw it, it vanished mysteriously after you ran into someone at the store. How can you not be curious about this mysterious red thread?

You follow the string down the street, making sure to be much more mindful of your surroundings so that you don’t run into anyone on the sidewalk, and don’t get run over by a car or bike. You continue walking, and you see ahead that the string leads to a bus stop on the sidewalk, several people waiting in its shade. As you walk closer to the stop, you can see the string wound around the poles holding up the roof, and hanging from the ceiling. You stare up at the string, intrigued, and come to a stop beside the structure, observing how the thread is wrapped around the black pillar.

“What are you looking at?”

You almost jump at the deep voice beside you, and clutch your heart. You see a man next to you, around your age, black hair, eerily familiar. He’s looking between you and the bus stop structure curiously.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. He frowns, tilting his head to you. “Wait, you’re the person from the store the other week.”

Oh, that’s where you’ve seen him! He’s the man you ran into at the store when you followed the red thread two weeks ago!

Oh. Oh!

That’s embarrassing.

“Oh, yes, that was me,” you say. You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Sorry, again, about bumping into you.”

“No worries,” he says. “So how has your second week here been? Two weeks, right?”

“Yep. It’s been fine,” you say. “The city is beautiful.” There really is no other way to describe it. You’ve enjoyed reading to Sunho. You’ve enjoyed the small amount of sightseeing you’ve done.

“Excellent,” he says. “By the way, I’m Geonhak.”

He holds out his hand to shake, and you shake it.

“I’m Y/N,” you say. He tilts his head curiously.

“When I lived internationally, I had a friend by that name. Where did you say you were visiting from, again?” he asks. You tell him what city you come from, and his eyes widen.

“Your last name wouldn’t happen to be … Y/L/N, would it?” he asks. You nod.

“It is. How did you know?”

He laughs. “I lived there during middle school. If I’m not mistaken, we went to school together, and we were friends,” he says.

You frown, thinking back. There’s no way this man could be the Korean kid you were friends with, all those years ago. But now that you think of it, his name was Geonhak …

“Geonhak Kim?” you guess. He nods and beams at you.

“Yes, that was me!”

“Oh, that’s so … amazing that we’ve met again! It’s been so long,” you say, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“No worries,” he says. “It took me two weeks to recognize you. It’s been many, many years since we’ve seen each other, so it’s understandable. How have you been, Y/Nie?”

You smile at the name Y/Nie. You can almost hear it in his much younger voice, from when you were kids. His voice certainly has gotten deeper since you were thirteen.

“Not much. I just finished my freshman year of college, but as I told you, I’m here visiting my father,” you say. “How about you? How have you been?”

“I, uh …” He glances around before leaning toward you. “I’m an idol,” he says, his voice somewhat lowered.

“An idol? A K-Pop idol? A celebrity?”

He nods. “Yeah,” he says. He’s smiling almost confidently, but his rosy, blushy cheeks are telling you he’s a bit shy. “I’m part of the Korean idol group ONEUS.”

“Oh, that name sounds familiar,” you say, thinking back to where you recognize the name from. “Was it 'Valkyrie’?”

“Yes, that was our debut title track,” he says laughing. “Oh, have you heard of us?”

“Yeah, I listened to 'Valkyrie’. I liked it, it was nice,” you say. “So since we went to school together, you became a celebrity. If memory serves, you were into dance and used to sing. Nice to know it went to good use.”

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

A screech sounds as the bus pulls up to the bus stop. People line up at the now-open door and start entering, scanning their cards and finding a seat.

“Ah, that’s me,” Geonhak says. “Here, let’s quickly exchange numbers. Here’s my phone, just put in your name, and I can put my number on yours.”

You give him your phone and type in your own phone number, putting 'Y/Nie Y/L/N’ as the contact name. You give Geonhak his phone back, and he gives you yours back.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says, smiling brightly. “We should talk soon!” He waves before joining the line for the bus. You wave goodbye again as the bus departs before frowning to yourself. You came to this bus stop for a reason, didn’t you? What was it?

Oh. Right.

You look back up at the roof of the structure, but the red thread is nowhere to be seen. Not dangling from the ceiling, nor wrapped around the supports like before. You look down at your hand, but, once again, the thread has vanished. You glance around, but there is no red thread to be found.

“What … ?”

After glancing around for a moment, you settle with the fact that the red thread has, once again, completely vanished. Slightly disappointed by not figuring out the mystery of the red thread, you head back to the apartment.

You sit in your room, on your bed, working on your computer. You have a bit of summer reading to do for school, and so you’re getting a bit of a head start now.

You have your earbuds in both of your ears, playing all of ONEUS’ music on shuffle. After learning that your childhood friend is now famous and a member of a popular music group three days ago, you wanted to check out their songs. And you really like their music, their first album especially.

Bored with the reading, you take out your phone and open contacts. Geonhak hpad named himself in your phone as 'Geonhak 🐥’ when you gave him your phone three days ago, which you found extremely cute.

You and Geonhak have been texting back and forth since you exchanged numbers. Mostly just talking about school, life. You talk about hobbies and how you both have been since middle school. Once or twice, you mentioned living with your mother and without your father, but it was never a main topic of conversation.

It’s nice to think about meeting your childhood friend. Especially now that you think of how he was always so kind to you when you would come to school and tell him about what your dad did to you or your mom. He would comfort you, he would listen to you. And, from what you remember, he was generally just a fun friend.

“Y/N!”

You look up in surprise. Sunho stands in the doorway, carrying his favorite book 'The Kissing Hand,’ in his arms.

“Hi, Sunho,” you say. “Do you want me to read to you before dinner?”

“Yes please,” he says. You pat the spot on the bed next to you, and he comes and sits down there. He places the book down and smiles widely. You reach over to open the book when you hear the front door open. You swear your heart stops at the sound of the door slamming shut.

“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to slam the door!” Your father’s voice is loud, and you let out the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

You can hear Sooyeon respond in Korean from the kitchen. With your limited knowledge or Korean, she says something along the lines of, “It’s okay! I just made dinner! I was about to get the kids.”

A couple minutes pass, and then suddenly the door opens to your bedroom and Sooyeon pokes her head in.

“Hello you two,” Sooyeon says. “Dinner is ready.” She repeats it again in Korean for Sunho.

“Okay-yee!” Sunho jumps off the bed. “Let’s go!” he says in Korean. You follow him to the dining room, his loud footsteps echoing through the hallway as he runs to his usual spot.

The four of you take your seats at the table. You sit to the right of your father and across from Sunho, Sooyeon sitting diagonally from you.

Dinner passes by in a flash, and after you finish washing your dishes, your father pulls you aside. Sooyeon is washing her and Sunho’s dishes.

“Y/N,” your father says. You feel yourself stiffen a bit. “I heard from your Eomma that you’ve been being disrespectful these past two weeks.”

You frown. “Disrespectful?” You look over at Sooyeon, who was watching over her shoulder. She quickly looks back at the spoon she’s washing, and you look back at your father.

“She told me that you’ve been arguing with her,” he says. “You’ve been talking back to her.”

“She was talking about mom!” you exclaim.

Your father slams his hand down on the table, and you jump back, hands around yourself like a shield between yourself and him, your head down so that you’re looking down at his shoes.

A moment passes.

“Did I ask what she was talking about?” your father asks, his voice loud and booming. You don’t know if it’s real or in your head, but it feels like his voice is echoing off of all of the walls, both in your house and in your head.

“No,” you say. Your voice is so quiet. “You didn’t.”

“Right. Now, I don’t know what you’ve been arguing with your Eomma about. But I want you to apologize to her,” your father says.

You chew at your lip and turn toward Sooyeon, who is leaning against the kitchen counter. Sunho is nowhere to be seen. Your brain has gone fuzzy, and not in a good way like when you have your favorite food after many years. Instead, it’s like when your mind has gone blank in fear.

You stare at the floor, and watch as a single tear falls from your eyes.

Without even thinking about it, you rush to the doorway, shove your feet into your shoes as fast as you can, and run out the door, down the stairs, and out of the building.

You have no destination in mind. You’ve never been to Korea before. So you run down the only street you’ve run down before. Your arms are wrapped around yourself, protecting you from everything else. Once you feel safer and far away from the danger as possible, you stop and take a deep breath.

It’s dark out. The sun must have set only an hour or so ago. It’s also cold, because it’s night time. Not frightfully cold, but cold enough that a small gust of wind of wind makes you shiver. You look up at the moon in the sky, shining brightly. It’s awfully calming.

After inhaling the fresh air deeply, you look down. Lying there, you see–for the third time, a red string. One end lying at your feet as if placed there deliberately. You frown and pick it up.

It’s the same shade of rest as the last two times you found a red thread on the sidewalk. As you examine it closer, you can see bits of glitter between the strands that are twisted together to build the string.

You look up and follow the string. As you turn the corner, you see that the string leads to the bust stop right ahead. As you approach, you realize that this is the same bus stop you’d followed the red thread to two weeks ago.

The thread is strewn wildly about the bus stop. Coiling around the poles that support the rest of the structure, thrown over the roof and dangling over the edges. You can see the glitter on the string twinkling from the streetlight next to the stop. It’s pretty. It’s beautiful. But you’re still confused as to why this thread is here, why it was there before–twice–and why the thread keeps vanishing.

With one end of the thread still in your hand, you walk over to sit down on the bench within the bus stop. You look around you at the thread dangling around the exterior Of the structure. The glittering string is really pretty.

You hear footsteps nearing and look over to the side. Someone is approaching from down the sidewalk. You squint as they walk beneath the streetlight, until you recognize their face.

“Geonhak?”

The man in question is wearing a white shirt and a jean jacket. It is indeed Geonhak, and as you continue looking at him, you see that he too is holding an end of the string in his hand. He squints at you for a moment, then the bus stop covered in red string, then back at you.

“Y/N?” He walks closer, until he’s standing right next to the bus stop, and you can see he’s frowning. “What are you doing out alone so late?”

“Nothing,” you say.

“What–have you been crying?” he asks. You touch your cheeks and realize they’re wet from when you ran out of your father’s apartment only minutes ago. You quickly wipe away at the tears.

“Oh, no. I mean, yes I have. But don’t worry about it.”

“Are you alright?” He sits down on the bench next to you.

“Yeah. I just got in an argument with my father.”

“I’m sorry. Do you need anything? Can I give you a hug?”

You sniff. “That would be nice.”

He leans over and hugs you. You hum, and thank him after he pulls away.

“So what brought you out here?” you ask. “So late.”

He opens his mouth, then pauses. “You know, I’m not entirely sure. I went outside to get some air, and I followed this red thread … here?”

You look up at the string still dangling from the roof.

“Yeah,” you say. “I, uh … Is there a hotel that would possibly be open about now? I don’t feel safe going back to my dad’s apartment tonight.”

“I don’t think there’s anywhere you can go this late. However, you could come to our dorm,” he says. “We share a bedroom, but I could get you covers and you could sleep on the couch. I promise it’s comfortable. And I can help you get a hotel room tomorrow.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother to you and your members,” you say.

“Really, I don’t mind,” he says. “Please. I don’t want you staying out here in the dark.”

“Would your management be okay with that?” you ask. The last thing you want is to get him in trouble with his superiors.

“I could tell them in the morning that you’re a friend and you needed a place to sleep,” he says.

“Oh. I’d really appreciate that.”

He stands up and stretches his hand out for you to take. You allow him to pull you out of your chair, and follow him down the sidewalk from the direction he came.

“My members might be shocked to meet you, but I’ll explain to them that you just needed a place to stay for the night and that you’re a friend,” he says. You follow him, your hand in his.

“Okay,” you say. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Remember when you and I would have sleepovers when your parents got into fights?” he asks.

You nod. You remember you would go to his house, or less often, he would come to yours. Your dad never wanted any of your friends to come over to your house–you didn’t know why–but your mom insisted on letting Geonhak visit. You can vividly remember when he and you would try to play games and talk over the sound of your father yelling at your mother for things out of her control.

“Just like old times.” Geonhak chuckles.

You follow him to his dorm building. He takes you up using the elevator, and opens the door to his dorm. Your hand still in his, you follow him inside. You can hear chatter inside, and as Geonhak leads you further into the dorm, you can see the source of the voices.

One of the two people in the room is staring intently at his phone, a boy with wavy hair who looks quite a bit younger than yourself and Geonhak. The other person in the living room, a brown haired man, looks up as Geonhak closes the door behind you.

“Geonhak, how was your walk?” The man looks at you. “Oh! Who’s … who’s this?”

“This is my childhood friend, Y/Nie,” Geonhak says. “From back when I lived internationally.”

“Y/N? The friend you’ve been talking about?” The wavy haired boy looks at you and waves cutely. “Hi. I’m Dongju, Xion.”

You wave back, smiling widely. This boy’s smile is contagious, you can’t help but smile when he smiles. “Hi.”

“I’m Kim Youngjo, Ravn,” the brown haired man says. He smiles a warm smile, and you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter a bit at his smile.

“Yeah, this is my friend Y/Nie,” Geonhak says. “Y/N needed a place to stay tonight, so I offered. If that’s okay, Youngjo.”

“Sure,” Youngjo says. “Y/N, if you need anything, feel free to let us know.”

“Thank you,” you reply. “I don’t want to be too much of a bother. Hopefully I can get my staying conditions sorted out after tonight. I’ll get a hotel tomorrow or something.”

“No worries,” he says, standing up. He walks over and shakes your hand. “Our other members are out right now, still at the studio I believe, but they should be here any time soon.”

“Alright, I’ll get you some bed covers and pillows from the next room,” Geonhak says. “Youngjo, can you show Y/N around a bit?” He disappears into the next room, leaving you with Youngjo and Dongju.

“So that over there is the kitchen,” Youngjo says, gesturing to the area that is so very obviously the kitchen. “And that room is the bedroom that we all share. You can come in if you need anything, though you might not want to disturb Geonhak when he sleeps.”

You frown. “Why?”

Dongju cups his hand next to his mouth.

“He sleeps without his shirt on,” he whispers loudly. “You might not want to see that.”

You laugh a bit.

“So you knew each other as kids?” Youngjo asks. You nod, and he smiles softly. “That’s sweet. And you two didn’t plan on meeting here?”

“Not at all,” you say. “I’m here visiting my father. I actually ran into him–literally–at the store just after I arrived back here.”

“Oh? That’s quite a miracle that you ran into each other accidentally,” Youngjo says, laughing. He has a genuine, happy laugh. “Are you not staying with your father?”

You shake your head. “No. He and I … don’t really have the healthiest relationship,” you say. Usually you wouldn’t want to tell a stranger about this. But Youngjo and Dongju–who is sitting on the couch nearby–both seem friendly, and for some reason, it slips out.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjo says softly. “I know we’ve only just met, but I am her for you and am willing to support you. I’m sure Geonhak is too, as your friend.”

“If you need to stay here another night,” Dongju says from the couch, “feel free to do so.”

The door to the next room opens, and Geonhak walks in. He’s changed into a new white T-shirt and black sweatpants, and he’s carrying two large blankets and a pillow, stacked on top of each other.

“Alright,” he says. “I have two blankets and a pillow. I promise they’ll be comfortable, but if you need anything, you can wake me up at any time to ask.”

You nod. “Thank you so much. It should be enough for the night.”

Suddenly, the door opens behind you, and you nearly jump in surprise to turn to him. A very tall man enters, and freezes at the sight of you.

“Keonhee! This is my friend, Y/N,” Geonhak says quickly. “They need to stay here for the night.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” the tall man, Keonhee, says, sighing and placing his hand over his chest. “I thought you were a burglar for a second.”

Keonhee walks in further, and two other men follow, one much shorter than Keonhee with blond hair, and one with a much more normal height. They seem much less shocked at the sight of you, probably because they heard Geonhak’s explanation to Keonhee.

They all introduce themselves to you. The shortest one with light hair is named Hwanwoong, and the other man is named Seoho. They’re all kind and sweet and welcoming and friendly. You spend a bit of time getting to know them, exchanging numbers and talking about your time in Korea.

With it getting so late, they all eventually head to bed. Geonhak stays with you as they go. Once the lights in their bedroom have gone out, and the blankets have been set up on the couch, Geonhak smiles at you.

“If you need sleeping clothes, you can have this,” he says, holding out a large white T-shirt. You thank him, and hurry to the restroom to change. As you exit, you can see Geonhak leaning against the wall next to the couch.

“I hope this is comfortable enough for you,” he says smiling widely.

“It is, I promise,” you say. “Thank you, Geonhak. You didn’t have to do this. Your members didn’t have to do this. So thank you.”

He hums. “I sleep on the top bunk of the bed right across from the bedroom door. So if you need anything, please wake me.”

“I will.”

“Alright. Well, good night,” he says.

“Good night, Geonhak. Thank you for helping me.”

He heads to bed, and you watch him disappear into the bedroom. You settle beneath the blankets, and feel yourself falling asleep. You’ve had a long day, so it’s reasonable that you’re tired. Your eyelids are heavy, and you fall asleep in Geonhak’s T-shirt almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

#kdiarynet #oneus #leedo #kim geonhak #kim gunhak #oneus fanfic #oneus fanfiction #leedo fanfic #leedo fanfiction #kim geonhak fanfic #kim geonhak fanfiction #kim gunhak fanfic #kim gunhak fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #myfic

12 notes · View notes

fifteenskies15 · 4 years

Text

Kanae's Precious Doll

(Yandere! Kanae Kochō x Reader)

Summary: Kanae Kochō had never developed a romantical interest to her fellow pillars, but when (name) joined the ranks, it all changed... Kanae tend to get whatever she wants and she'll most definitely do anything to keep you herself.

Trigger warning: mention of necrophiliac, disturbing themes, sadistic Kanae, and mention of reader committing suicide by drowning.

Note: Mention of Sanemi and Mitsuri having a crush on reader

Admin's note: Oh my, oh my, a first fic of Kanae, this is all for you my fellow Kanae stans, fair warning that this fic consist a lot of disturbing themes and not compatible for you who had fragile soul, so please tread lightly and also this is rushed also it's long, I'm so sorry if you don't like it.

----

Oh what a good day today! Yes it is indeed a good day!

Kanae hummed a happy song as she make her way to Butterfly estate, the other slayers look at her slender and slim figure along with her long, beautiful black hair swayed by the wind in awe of her beauty.

"She looks awfully happy today"

"Well she's just succeeded in her mission of course she's happy"

"She's beautiful when she smiled like that"

"Whoever her lover is, they must be very lucky to have a beautiful lady like her"

Kanae overheard what they said, her smile goes more sweeter, of course, they were right, a certain person is extremely lucky to have faithful, loyal and loving girl like her.

Yes, you're very lucky indeed...

"Shinobu, Kanao! I'm home!" Her melodious voice said as she took off her zori sandal, Shinobu then greet her and bow her head respectfully at her "Welcome back, Nee-san, I hope your mission goes well today"

"It is~ How's Kanao doing?"

Shinobu shrugs and sighed wearily "Still same as ever... She hasn't eat her food yet"

"Oh my~ well, I'm sure she'll get used to it soon, have a patience, Shinobu~" she said as she affectionately ruffled Shinobu's hair, "Speaking of which, how's my beloved (name) doing?"

There's a smallest gleam of fear in Shinobu's face, but she immediately regained her composure "She's/He's doing well, nee-san" Kanae beam happily and clapped her hands "Waah~ that's good to hear! Excuse me, Shinobu, I must see her/him at once" Shinobu nods and step aside as she just watch her sister's back with a sigh.

"... Nee-san..."

"(Name), my darling! I'm back! Today's mission is a great success!" She said as she took off her haori and put her sword away "I managed to kill the demon and everyone is so very happy! It warms me to see them smile, don't you think it's great to see them so Happy, (name)?"

You were just sitting there in your (F/C) kimono and your hair done, your blank (E/C) eyes just staring at the ground, Kanae giggled and hugged you "Oh, I know you're happy too, my little butterfly! After all people smile shows that our efforts are worth it!" Kanae sighed happily as she settles herself on your lap.

Her nimble fingers traced around your neck and collarbone, smiling as she could feel your porcelain like skin against her fingertips "I'm elated that I could spend my time with you again, I have missed you! And now I'm happy that I can be in your arms again"

She sighed once more and snuggled closer "My love, doesn't it feels like yesterday we met?"

...

Two years ago...

"(Last name) (name) we're happy to know that you're enjoying our rank as a pillar! I look forward to work with you!! The flame pillar Rengoku Kyojuro said with a beaming smile on his face as you smile gently at him.

"Thank you, Rengoku sama, I'll look forward to work with everyone of you" a woman with long pink hair smiled and hugged you "AHH! You're so beautiful/handsome! And also you're nice! I hope we can be friends!"

You chuckled warmly "I'm sure we will, miss...?"

"Kanroji Mitsuri! It's great to meet you!"

"Likewise, Kanroji sama"

You then spot beautiful woman next to wind pillar eyeing you like she's looking at the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, you smiled warmly at her "May I help you with something?"

The woman blushed lightly and smiled "Ah, no, I think I'm just flustered to see such a beautiful woman/handsome man in front of my eyes"

Oh my! Did I just said it out loud?!

You stare at her unbelievably before you laughed warmly, the pillars thought your laugh is melodious so they stare at you with a slight blush on their faces, "A bold one aren't you, miss...?"

"Kanae, Kochō Kanae"

"Nice to meet you, Kochō sama"

Kanae smiled and blushed and tucked the strand of her hair behind her ear "Oi! I'm still standing here, (breathing style) pillar!" The wind pillar Shinazugawa Sanemi said, you looked up at him with a smile "I'm fully aware, Shinazugawa sama, are you jealous that Kochō sama got more attention than you did?"

You could hear Uzui letting out a whoop, Sanemi sputtered as he blushed and looked away "It's nothing like that!!"

You just chuckled at him and patted his arm and turn your attention to Kanae "I'll look forward to see more of you, Kochō sama"

Kanae's heart beating so fast as you smiled at her and she felt her face getting warmer, she never felt such things as this.

"I sure hope you will"

Kanae had never felt something like this to someone else before, is this how it feels to be in love? Her heart beating so fast, her beautiful face were streaked with nice shades of red and she felt like she's smiling like an idiot.

(Last name) (name) is a delightful pillar...

Lovely, kind, clever and compassionate...

Kanae loves (Name)

And (Name) must love Kanae too.

A surge of possessiveness and obsessiveness blooms in Kanae, she watched as you were smiling and laughing with Kanroji and Shinazugawa, why, her heart feel stings...

...

Her light purple eyes glared maliciously at the two pillars who just made you smile, the usual gentle Kanae suddenly replaced by a possessive and violent Kanae...

"Kochō sama, Kanroji sama and I are going to get some sweets, you want to join us?" You offered her with a smile on your face, Kanae counted in her mind as she smiled to both of you and Kanroji

"Why, of course!"

...

It's been a months since (name) joined the rank as pillar...

At night, Kanae can't keep (name) off her mind, she was wide awake and looking at the ceiling as she hallucinating your warm and gentle smile, and your melodious voice.

"Ah, (name) you're such a beauty"

Her mind wander about the thought of you and her living together as married couples, wives/husband and wife slaying demons together, side by side... Encouraging each other... Morning kisses...

Ah, what a wonderful thought.

Kanae sighed dreamily as she hugged her pillow, imagining you laying next to her

"Hmm, hmm (Last name) Kanae or Kochō (name)? Or combined? Kochō-(Last name) (name)... It sounds beautiful too"

She giggled as she thought of you had her last name or yours with her name.

Kanae sat up from her futon and looked at the full moon.

Luna...

Luna equals Lunatic...

Kanae's usual warm eyes turned empty with a streak of craziness and obsessiveness as a twisted smile cracked on her beautiful face.

"Ohh (name), how I long to hold you in my arms"

She giggled and looked at the moon again

"My love, one day soon, I will... Make. You. Mine..."

...

Awry and anxious that's what you feel recently, you don't know why, but you could feel a pair of eyes are always watching you, you were just sitting under the birch tree to relax after today's mission, but sometimes you still can't get rid of the feeling of being watched.

"What on Earth..." You mumbled as you look around and to see no one was there, you just lay down and close your eyes for a while until two familiar voices call out to you

"(name)-san!!~" you sat up and to see Kanroji and Shinazugawa approaching you, you smiled as she hugged you "Hello to you too, Kanroji sama" the pink haired girl just smiled and grab your hand, you looked up at Shinazugawa who just saying a simple "Yo" at you, you smiled at him in response "So what's up, you two?"

"Hmm, nothing much~ but we would like to take you to a nice teahouse in the city! How about it?? You, us, a cup of tea and plenty of delicious sweet? Besides you deserve a treat after today's mission!"

"And we won't take no as an answer" Shinazugawa said looking away with a slight blush on his scar face, Kanroji huffed and glare at the wind pillar "Don't force her/him, Shinazugawa San!" You giggled at both of them as you dusted off your uniform "Well, I don't have anything much to do, so why not?"

Kanroji squealed and take both of your and Shinazugawa's hand "Brilliant!! Now let's all be off!" You share a look with Shinazugawa and just chuckled at each other

Somewhere, Kanae watched as you and Shinazugawa share a warm smile together, she clenched her fist and glared at the wind pillar begrudgingly.

He shouldn't be the one to be smiled at....

Her knuckles turn white as she saw Kanroji hugged your arm with a smile on her face

Just because she's the love pillar doesn't mean she had rights to love you...

A warm tears threaten to spill out of Kanae's beautiful eyes, she couldn't breathe as she saw you and Shinazugawa being "friendly" to each other, her heart breaks as she saw you and Kanroji smiling and giggling to each other, she can't take it any longer so she ran back to butterfly estate.

Once she came back, she locked herself and cried, even when her sister asked her if she was okay, it's as if her ears turned deaf, when she run pass the butterfly sisters, it's as if she was blind because all she can see is you and only you and even the ugly picture of either Shinazugawa or Kanroji or worse, BOTH of them manage to win your heart, which was supposed to be hers.

"Nee-san! Nee-san!! What happened?! Please open the door!"

But Shinobu's concerned voice were replaced with other voice.

"I'm so sorry Kochō-sama, my heart belongs to another..."

Please, Don't go!

"She/he belongs to me, Kanae-chan..."

No, no!! She's/he's mine!

"Face it, Kochō, there's no way you can win, (Name)'s heart, try harder"

SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!

"...Goodbye, Kochō-sama"

"NOOO!!!" she collapsed and sobbed as she clenched her heart "No..no..." Slowly but surely Kanae's eyes flutter close and fell asleep due to exhaustion

...

Only a half of hour later, Kanae woke up, slightly haunted, she had bad dream of you left her for Shinazugawa and Kanroji and the sick smile on their faces...

Kanae clenched her fist, her eyes looked at her sword, she unsheath it and see the reflection of her empty purple eyes, she closed her eyes and take a deep breath.

One of the rule in demon slaying corps; never use sword against each other...

Kanae always obeyed the rule, she always has, but this time it's different "Forgive me Oyakata-sama, but I'm doing this for love..."

"thanks for hanging out with me! It was really fun to spend time with you two!" You said smiling brightly at the two pillars, Kanroji smiled and blushed as she played with her hair "Ehehe, We love spending time with you too"

Shinazugawa just looked away a blush on his face "You're okay, I guess..." You smiled at them and hugged him "You're okay too, Shinazugawa"

Shinazugawa malfunctioned.

"Eep! I want hugs too!" She said as she hugged both of you, you giggled at them and parted the hug "Alright, it's time I call it a day, good night, you two!" You said as you walk back to your estate.

Kanroji sighed dreamily "(name)-san is such a darling..." Shinazugawa just scoffed "She's/He's nice I guess..."

"She/he is, does she/he not?" The two pillars jumped as they saw Kanae with her usual smile "Damn it, Kochō, are you trying to give us heart attack?!" Kanae just raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence, "I apologise, Shinazugawa-san I tried to call both of you but you and Kanroji-san did not hear me"

"Oh! Sorry Kanae-chan, we don't know!"

Kanae just smiled as in understanding that, while Shinazugawa, knows the flower pillar didn't even call after him and the love pillar, he eyed Kanae suspiciously.

"So what is it do you want?"

"Oh, I was wondering if we all could talk, in somewhere secluded"

The two pillars looked at her, perplexed "Well, anything for you, Kanae-chan!" Kanroji said as she start to walk along with Kanae, meanwhile, Shinazugawa just follow them with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Once they're arrived at a field...

"So what is it you want us to..." Before Kanroji continued, Kanae unsheath her sword and point it at Kanroji's throat "K-Kanae-chan...? What...what are you doing..."

"Oh, it's nothing~ just to warn you both to not get too friendly with my lovely (name)"

"Wh...what do you mean??" Shinazugawa immediately get Kanroji behind him and glared at the other female "Your lovely (name)? What the hell, Kochō?! Are you threaten to kill us because of (name)?!"

"Shinazugawa, I ask that you don't say her/his name, what gives you right to do that?" Shinazugawa recoil as Kanae pressed the tip of her blade on his throat "Kochō, you seriously violated the rule of demon Slayer corps just because of (name)?! You're sick!"

Kanae pulled her sword away and laughed, but she didn't laugh sweetly like she always did, it sounded... unnerving.

"I'm sick?! I AM SICK?! Tsk, tsk, that's rich, coming from you" she put her sword back in her sheath, "Anyone would do anything for love do they not? And what I did is a prove of my undying love for her/him! Violating the rules for (name)? I would do that with no hesitation! Killing you both and the rest of the pillars? It would be my pleasure! And turning into a demon?? Yes! I would do that for (name)!"

"Kanae-chan, please snap out of it!! That's not how loves works!!" Kanroji said with tear in her eyes, Kanae glared at her causing her to wince "You don't know anything about love, Kanroji-san, an this is your last warning both of you... Get close to (name)... I will not hesitate to hurt you or hurt someone you love"

Kanroji said what seems to be "Not Iguro!" Under her breath, Shinazugawa even know she had capability to hurt Masachika, gritting his teeth and hating the thought of Kanae hurt his best friend irked him a lot he almost do something he'll regret.

With heavy heart, Shinazugawa cast a withering glare at the woman "Fine...we won't...we won't go near (name) again as long as you keep your word..."

Kanae smiled brightly and clapped her hands "I knew you would understand! Of course I wouldn't hurt those who you care about!" She then struts away purposely bumping her shoulder with them and whispered "Unless you disobey, then say goodbye to your loved ones" she giggled as she head back to butterfly estate.

Kanroji then burst into tears, Kanae's threat had impact on her and that goes for Shinazugawa too, the man had his heart broken when he thought that someone he had feelings on is going to fall on the hand of a lovesick pillar, he also hate the thought Kanae hurt his only friend, he clenched his heart and grit his teeth.

"(Name)..."

"Forgive us..."

...

Today, you're in gloomy mood, it's almost a month since you hang out with Kanroji and Shinazugawa, and all of a sudden they give you a cold shoulders, you don't understand, why? Why would they avoid you? Did you do something?

"(Name)-san? Hello? Is everything okay?" You looked up at Kanae, she's have always been around you lately, she's been there when you're sad and down, you just sigh and shook your head "I'm okay, Kanae, just...still sad with the fact that Kanroji and Shinazugawa have been avoid me lately" you say as you walk along with her, tonight you and Kanae are having a nightly stroll which is a thing you do everytime you need to clear your mind, and you invite Kanae since her presence comforts you.

Or so you thought, sometimes there's something bizzare about her, you couldn't just put a head or tails about it.

Kanae place a comforting hand on your arm before she leans in and hugged your arm "Everything is going to be okay, (Name), you have me don't you?"

"Well, I know but..." You sighed for umpteenth time "I just miss them, you know?" Kanae stayed silent when you said you missed the wind and love pillar, all that and you still miss them?

"Oh but, (name) I'm here for you" she said looking up to you with a smile.

Now you know what's wrong with her...

Her smile...

It's not warm nor genuinely sweet, it was sickly sweet... it's unsettling and unnerving.

"K-Kanae, I think that's enough for tonight, how about we call it a day?" Kanae raised her eyebrows and tilted her head "Why? We've been here only for a minute"

"I just...um..." You don't know why your instincts told you to run, somehow you can hear Kanroji and Shinazugawa voice saying "Run!" Inside your head, out of reflex, you yank your arm off her and start to bolt off.

"(Name)? What's wrong? Why are you running from me?"

You ignore her as you keep on running aimlessly with Kanae tailing you, now that you think about it, she always acting odd, she's always too close to you, and seem to always cling on you everytime and too much that it nearly invade your personal space.

Also the feeling of you being watched by someone? You realized that Kanae has been watching you all the time, she seems always around you with no reason and now...

Lastly...she always looked uncomfortable everytime you're with the other pillars and drag you away from them, could she be the reason why Kanroji and Shinazugawa avoiding you?

"(Name)?~ (Name)? Why are you running, dear? Are we playing hide and seek in this forest now? Fufufu"

Her voice calling out to you runs a chill down your spine, by the Gods, she lost her mind...

You didn't respond and just keep running, panting and your heart beating like crazy, you never feel this scared, what happened to that graceful and elegant flower pillar you knew?

"(Name), dear (name)~ I really wanted to hug you now~ where oh where could you be hiding?" She giggled as you could hear her rapid footsteps, she's hot on your heels "Don't be scared, my love, your darling Kanae just want your arms around her"

"She's obsessed of me, Gods, I can't believe this..." You thought as you run, your mind wander over Kanroji and Shinazugawa, hoping that they would save you now, but it's impossible.

You realized that you're nowhere to run, ahead of you, there's a big lake, you gulped as you hear Kanae's voice getting louder"

"(Name)~ please be a dear and come back to me, you know you can't hide forever, right? Hehehe"

You looked at the lake, the thought of you drowning in the suffocating cold water scared you but...

Death is better than spending a miserable life with someone obsessive and lovesick like Kanae...

With that you drown yourself in the lake, it hurts, it really hurts as water fill your lungs, your vision start to fade away and it's hard to breathe...

And the last thing you see is the smiling faces of two pillars you care about.

Kanae arrived at the lake and looked around as she hums "(Name)~ I know you're hiding somewhere" she looked around the trees and bush while constantly said "not here" and "where could you be?"

Her eyes then caught a lifeless body floating on the lake, her eyes widen when she realized it's you.

"(NAME)!!" She run towards the lake and dragged your lifeless body to the dry land, you were already a goner... The color of your skin has disappeared and there's no more sign of life, Kanae wailed and embraced your dead body "Why? Why would you do this?!" She cried against your chest, mourning over your death.

She looked at your face with tears in her eyes, but then her sadness replaced by something close to admiration, she then traced your face with her fingers, feeling your cold skin as a smile slowly spread on her face.

"Beautiful..." She then cupped your face and smiled "My Gods, even though you're no longer alive, you're beautiful, (name)..."

You're too beautiful to let go.

So Kanae decided to do something to keep you and your beauty stays forever, "(Name), I will make your beauty last longer, and not only that we're going to be together forever too!" She giggled happily as she carried your body to butterfly estate.

Needless to say, she secretly preserve your body along with Shinobu's help, the girl was surprised and don't know what to say when she came with your lifeless body and ask her to help her sister to do her job and keep her secret.

And to keep it, the flower pillar lied to the others by saying you were gone missing so that no one's suspicious of her.

"Ah, those were the days" Kanae said playing with your hair "And now, I'm just happy that you and I are going to be together till the end of the time" she said sighing happily and look at your blank, empty (E/C) eyes "Oh now! Don't be sad, I won't go anywhere! I will be by your side today... tommorow and..."

She giggled and hugged you.

"...Forever!"

And this is your fate now, whether you're dead or alive, You belong to Kanae and only Kanae.

Because you're her precious doll...

----

Admin 15: Whooo, I'm glad I managed to finish this after I abandoned this for like, idk, weeks, I guess, and I still had unfinished Mist route draft to finish, anyways, thanks so much for reading, I apologise for the errors in the story here!

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #kimetsu no yaiba fanfiction #Kanae Kochō #kny Kanae #Kanae x Reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny

129 notes · View notes

queen-of-my-goofball-army · 4 years

Text

Howard Ashman Documentary August 7th on Disney+

How many people do you know that have childhood memories sitting in front of a television with Little Mermaid, Beauty And The Beast or Aladdin playing on the television? If you are anything like me these films are some of your most treasured memories. I grew up in the sunny state of California and I was often sick with ear infections or migraines as a little girl. My most treasured memory is watching Beauty And The Beast. For years it’s been my favorite Disney movie, for me you can’t get any better. But did you ever wonder who it was that made the movies so good? Who was so opinionated and never backed down from a fight even though most people wanted to fire him? That man was the one and only “savior” of Disney animation in the late 80s up until his death in 1991 when he was 40 years old. His name was Howard Ashman.

Disney was having a rut just like they are right now back in the years of the 70s up until generally around the release of Oliver And Company. Their movie “The Black Cauldron” was said to be their lowest point yet. It was expensive and it didn’t even bring back half of it’s budget. It was beaten out by the Care A Bears Movie. Disney had hit rock bottom. But there was a shining light at the end of the tunnel. A man that would show them that music in animation was possible. It could be even better than possible, it could be great. Just like it used to be back when The Sherman Brother’s ruled the Disney sector.

Howard grew up in Baltimore Marilyn where all he did was theater. He was drawn to it the same way that people are to their biggest passions and life affirmations. It is said by Don Hahn the director behind one of my favorite movies Waking Sleeping Beauty that Howard was gay, Jewish and loved musicals. He was the last person that most people would have expected to work for Disney at all. But he would be the man behind the bringing about of the Disney renaissance period of filmmaking.

It all started with The Little Mermaid back in 1988. Howard stood by what he called the “I want song”. He claimed that it was usually about the second or third song of the evening and the leading lady usually sits down on something; sometimes it’s a tree stomp in Brigadoon, sometimes it’s under the pillars of covet garden in My Fair Lady, or a trash can in a show that he wrote the lyrics for one of my favorite stage shows Little Shop Of Horrors but the leading lady sits down on something and sings about what she wants in life. For the most part this type of song was in all of the films that he worked on. Most of us know the one that he did for Little Mermaid of course, Part Of Your World. But how many of you knew that the song almost got cut? During this time period when the movie was still being made they were showing the film in just pencil sketches. The audience just wasn’t resonating with the song like Howard insisted it would. Jeffrey Katzenberg was threatening to cut the song and if Howard hated anything it was people undermining his authority and the things that he worked hard on. He had a temper if you crossed his path and he was extremely opinionated. If he thought that something was good he would insist that the song stuck. He would only hand in his best work and nothing less. He lost his temper and came over to him telling him “Over my dead body you will I’ll strangle you first.” Thankfully Jeffrey relented and it became one of the biggest successes of the 80′s for Disney. It would only go up from here.

His work on Beauty And The Beast wasn’t initially what he wanted to do. He got some rather distressing news after the release of Little Mermaid. He had AIDS in the 80s. It was a rough time to be queer during those days because people were getting sick and dropping like flies. He was working on Aladdin and he was happy doing that. I think that if Jeffrey hadn’t have done the one thing I commend him for, he would’ve never worked on Beauty And The Beast at all. This story always makes me laugh whenever I watch the documentary. So the two directors were extremely naive and they didn’t understand the wrath of a lyricist if you piss him off. How many of you remember how that movie opens? When you pan forward and see the stained glass windows? That was Howard’s idea!! The entire idea of the Beast having a backstory at all was something that he stood by. In his mind he saw something tragic and beautiful. The directors couldn’t get this idea out of their head of how the Beast as a boy would look. During one of their first meetings they in their dumbass naivety decided to tell him “We think that the little Beast boy is kind of a cheap shot.” It is said by Kirk Wise that the word “cheap” really set Howard off. He ripped into them like he has never been ripped into before.

Howard was only able to work for about a year and a half full time on Beauty And The Beast before he had to take up residence in a hospital. It was here that he wrote Prince Ali for Aladdin. He died before Beauty And The Beast could be released and most of his songs got cut from Aladdin and into the scraping bin the day after he died because he couldn’t defend them anymore.

Why am I talking about this other than for my own please and enjoyment? I want to spread the word as much as I can about an upcoming documentary on August 7th and it will be simply titled Howard. It was supposed to be released on opening day of Disney+ but sadly that isn’t what happened. It got pushed back until next month. I worried that I would never get the pleasure of learning more about my biggest hero to ever work for Disney. This man did so much work in so little time and I took it upon myself to spread the word as much as I could so that people will watch it and learn more about his legacy and his work. I’ve idolized him since I was 14 despite there being hardly any information about the life he lived. I hope that this has been informative for everyone and that you’ll stream the movie if it sounds interesting to you even if you don’t have Disney+. I’m extremely excited and if anybody wants to have actual video footage of Howard you can dm me I have some Youtube videos of him that I can’t link from my laptop.

#Howard Ashman #Disney+#Musical Theater #Long post

17 notes · View notes

therunawayscamp · 4 years

Text

And here's something else that winds me up about people always blaming us for everything: yes, all right, maybe it we did cause the explosion near the Shrine of Azura, and maybe there wasn't anyone else involved, but did you ever stop to consider that we might have had a perfectly good reason for it? No, you didn't, so now I'm going to explain that very reason and you'll be forced to admit that we were justified, and also that you ought to pay us some sort of reparations for the slander against the good name of the Runaway Scamp.

Over the course of a voyage, there's always a bit of a rivalry that builds up between the two watches. Sometimes there isn't much of a contest. Obviously the Ald'Varay (my watch) is superior when it comes to the art of sailing.

It's areas like mage drills where things get interesting. I'm no mage myself, so far as I'm concerned, both Mr Oran and Mr Ethysil are equally talented in their field, and the same goes for the mages under their separate commands. By the end of a voyage, however, when they've had time to train them to their full potential, they like to settle the question for themselves and the best way of doing that is through a competition.

If Oran had his way, the competition would always be settled by whichever team can blow up the biggest rock, but as Ethysil argues, this doesn't bear much resemblance to their skill in an engagement. Any ship worth its gilt will have wards cast around the hull, something I haven't noticed very often on your average rock, and it requires a bit more thought than simply hurling magic around. R'khan came up with the alternative: both teams have a camp containing an idol, and whoever finds the opposing team's idol first is the winner. They signal that they've found the idol by blowing it up because Oran threatened to mutiny if explosions weren't involved somewhere along the line, but I don't think anybody could object to a few little explosions here and there. They keep life interesting. If the other team defend it properly and prevent it from blowing up, it doesn't count. The idea is it showcases their intelligence and creativity as well as their power, but personally I think they just like having an excuse to run around on land after months at sea.

I will spare you the boring details of the hunt for the opposing team's idol. The competition took place, as I say, near the Shrine of Azura in Winterhold, so mostly it consisted of sailors climbing halfway up icy cliffs then getting knocked down again into a snowdrift, to the mirth of their shipmates. They apparently enjoyed themselves. Personally I think R'khan, myself, and the rest of the non-mage crew enjoyed ourselves a lot more sat next to a campfire on the beach singing a few songs and sharing the rum around, but what do I know about the ways of mages? Instead we'll get straight to the point.

Ethysil was the first to find the idol. Presumably working on the basis of hiding things in plain sight, or perhaps because he knew it would piss Zannammu off, Oran had tucked it between the statue's legs, propped up against somebody else's offering so that it was staring up Azura's robe. Like all of us, Ethysil appreciates these little touches, but he had a mission to complete. His reputation was at stake. Magic sparked briefly in his hand and illuminated all life in the immediate area with a glow visible to his eyes only. Nothing but a fox tearing through the undergrowth. That in itself should have been a warning – even Oran isn't stupid enough to leave his prize totally unguarded – but victory was only an arm's length away. Ethysil reached forwards.

As soon as his fingertip touched the idol, the world fell into fire. He tried to reel backwards and found the ground was gone, his feet milling aimlessly in the air, tumbling and burning. If there was any noise, he couldn't hear it. His ears rang with the aftermath of the explosion and when he finally landed, with a thud that cracked the back of his skull against the ice, his vision shook for a few minutes. Moving was not an option. He lay flat on his back and waited to see whether he would die.

Ice melted and dripped across his forehead. Eventually the cold convinced him that actually he might be alive after all, and a little while later that maybe he really ought to move if he didn't want to be soaked through. He struggled upwards, blinked a few times, and realised that the rock formation towering over him was in fact Oran. In his hand was Ethysil's idol, which ought to have been hidden safely on the beach, buried beneath the tideline. He grinned, and the idol exploded into dust in his hands, shooting a pillar of flame into the sky.

'I win.'

Things still weren't entirely straight in Ethysil's head. He let Oran drag him back to the beach, telling everyone they met along the way about his victory, and accepted a bottle pushed into his hand without questioning the contents. It certainly took the edge off the cold creeping into his bones. When half of it was gone and when he could feel his extremities again, he jabbed his elbow sideways into Oran's stomach.

'What in Oblivion did you enchant it with?'

'Modified fire rune.'

I don't know what it is about Oran, but he can do a more infuriating smug look than anybody else I know.

Undoubtedly he treated Ethysil to it now and was well-rewarded by a huff. Ethysil's breath swept across the bottle and turned to fog in the frosty air.

'You, muthsera, are a bastard. Since when do you use runes?'

He expected a smart remark, an insistence that he ought to own up to his own fault and oversight. Instead Oran conjured up some flames in his hand, surprisingly modest ones for him, and shook them onto the sand, where they burned without fuel and formed a small campfire. Such a thoughtful gesture is practically unheard of for Oran, and Ethysil stared at him with the appropriate amount of shock, although not until after shuffling forward to feel the fire's benefit.

'Maybe I learned something from you,' said Oran, and cleared his throat in the way which means people in his vicinity ought to run for the hills if they don't want to be treated to what he thinks of as poetry. 'We've been sailing together for so long now, over the aeons, through tide and tempest, forging a bond in the darkest nights and the wildest--'

'All right, all right.'

'Something was bound to rub off eventually.'

'Are you saying is that it was my influence? I rather think that means it was my victory after all.'

The campfire flared into a bonfire momentarily as Oran scowled.

'Fuck off. I won fair and square.' The flames simmered down and their faces were half darkness once again. 'What I'm saying is that I may be no House Dunmer, but I think I understand what it means. Together through hell and high water. A bond of sheer courage and unshakable faith, as the learned Sera Ravel describes it. A clan of one blood, whom one follows unto death and beyond, if such is one's calling, for they cannot deny a shared destiny which--'

'Oran. Please. Have mercy. I've still got a headache from your blasted rune and this is not helping.'

Obligingly, for once, and I can only assume Ethysil cast some sort of enchantment or tame beast spell on him because Oran has never once been obliging for me, Oran said no more. They watched the magical fire twist against the sand in a companionable silence, the only sound the rest of the crew in their own huddles and the waves hushing along the shore.

Until Luca trudged up and, in her characteristic way, shattered the moment of peace. She dropped a pile of cloth, formerly draped over her arms, at Ethysil's feet.

'Here. R'khan said it's about time you put this back on.'

It was the cloak Ethysil wears when we're in Morrowind, to cover up his Tribunal tattoos from the more zealous brand of Reclamationists. Its warmth wasn't exactly unwelcome, sat outside at night in Skyrim, but as Luca went off scuffing sand behind her, Ethysil dragged it slowly over his arms.

'I suppose I shall be wearing this for the next few months.' He fingered the sleeve distastefully. 'You know, the disrobing ceremony is far more enjoyable than the robing.'

'You'll be taking it off soon enough.'

'Will I?'

The air was cold that night. I remember. That was all it was. That's what the little pause was, the chill, the shiver. Perfectly normal. Why wouldn't it be? Skyrim is always cold. Anyway, everyone always feel a bit strange at the end of a voyage, as if something is coming to an end. Which it isn't. Obviously. It's only a feeling, and feelings always pass, given enough time.

When this feeling passed, which it did, Oran grinned behind a swig from his own bottle.

'Yeah. When you meet a certain beautiful lady you took a fancy to last time we were home. One glimpse of her dark, lustrous locks and her buxom chest and that cloak will be straight off.'

'Closely followed by the rest of my clothes?' Ethysil laughed. 'I'll drink to that, serjo.'

#the works of master vilayn #oran #ethysil #luca

1 note · View note

valentines-in-london · 5 years

Text

I Need Fire (Part 18)

Authors Note: Please I encourage you to listen to Send Her My Love by Journey while reading the beginning of this chapter followed by Faithfully by Journey, both songs were huge inspirations for this chapter! I hope this chapter makes up for the last few!! As always any and all feedback is more than welcome<3 Word Count: 3,898 Warnings: a bit of angst and fluff Taglist: @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro @lauravic @oh-well1 @la-sorciere-fleur @anxious-diabetic @xdeath-soulx @fanofnightz If you’d like to be added please let me know!

Previous Chapter // Master List // Next Chapter

Chapter 18 December 23rd

One week, seven days, one hundred and sixty eight hours, ten thousand and eighty minutes. That’s how long Tommy had been gone. Rayne had tried everything to find out where he was, to no avail, so either he really was MIA or people were covering up for him. She was sure Doc was covering up for him, he claimed to have no idea when she called. Nikki was out of his mind on drugs but claimed to have no idea. It was frustrating and she was close to giving up. Rayne had fallen asleep outside on the back patio night after night on one of the lounge chairs. She would wrap herself in an oversized blanket and the brisk cool California air and the sound of waves swirled around her lulling her to sleep.

She’d been spending a lot of time outside for the past week, she felt such emptiness when she stayed in the house. So she would choose the chill of the outside world, than the emptiness of the home she lived in. It hurt too much to see the Christmas tree and the decorations around the house that they had put up when they first got back. Rayne hadn’t even turned on any of the Christmas lights all month, which usually symbolized such joy for her. To top it all off she wasn't even sure if her Christmas plans were still happening. She and Tommy talked about hosting Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas dinner with his family at their new home. She'd went out and bought all the food one day after work that week, she just hoped she had someone to feed it to.

There was some good news however, Rayne had gone to the doctor for a follow up and he said she was healing very well. She could go back to taking baths and more strenuous exercise. Rayne had gone to a kickboxing class every day since the check up. It was practically therapy going to the classes, which is why she always loved kick boxing. Her doctor also told her she could resume normal sexual activity which she did everything she could to not let out a laugh at that statement. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. But tonight she was going to go out and have fun. Journey was playing a show at the Forum and she was always in love with Steve Perry’s voice. Tommy and her had planned to go but since he was MIA she wasn’t going to miss out.

Rayne stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom. She wore a ripped up black denim skirt, black stockings, a leopard print top with her signature leather jacket and boots. Jo had always given her shit for liking Journey, saying that they were “corporate rock” whatever the hell that meant. And she knew she might look a bit out of place but she didn’t care. With a few tweaks to her hair and makeup Rayne was ready to head over to LA for the night.

When she got to the Forum, Rayne made her way through the sea of people tailgating. She always loved the atmosphere of the tailgate, the energy was always buzzing with excitement of fans before they saw a band they loved. Rayne headed to a bar down the street to grab a quick drink before show time. Of course since a show was in town was bar was booming. Rayne made her way to the bar sliding in to order a whisky neat. Once she paid for her drink she found a vacant space against a pillar. It was at that moment that she saw Doc sitting in a booth with a guy Rayne did not recognize. Doc locked eyes with her and waved her over.

“Hey Rayne, didn’t expect seeing you here.” Doc smiled up at her. As soon as she approached the table she could feel the other man's eyes on her.

“Yeah, I am going to the Journey show tonight and figured I’d grab a drink beforehand.” She replied looking over to the man in the booth, he was awfully handsome. Rayne extended her hand to him. “Hi by the way, I’m Rayne.”

The man took her hand and flashed a million dollar smile. “I’m Jon, nice to meet you Rayne.”

“Take a seat Rayne.” Doc offered.

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not, please sit.” Doc encouraged and Rayne took a seat across from Doc and next to Jon. “Jon’s a new signing of mine and his band is about to do some press and shows over in Japan so we made a stop in LA, he’s from the east coast. Which you’re from also right Rayne?”

“Yeah I’m from Jersey.”

“No shit so am I.” Jon smiled turning in the booth to face her.

“Really? Huh, small world.” Rayne chuckled. She was about to ask him where in New Jersey he grew up but Doc quickly spoke up.

“Is Tommy with you?” Doc interjected. Snapping Rayne out of whatever was going on with her and Jon.

“No.” Rayne sighed. “He’s still no where to be found. I kinda thought you might have been covering for him.”

“I’m not, I honestly have no idea.” Doc said honestly. Rayne shook her head, how could Doc not even know where he was? Rayne simply finished her glass of whisky before pushing it to the center of the table.

“Well it was good seeing you, I’m going to head back I want to catch Bryan Adams, he’s opening and I’ve heard good things.” Rayne smiled pushing herself out of the booth. “It was nice meeting you Jon, good luck with everything.”

“Bye.” Jon said softly watching as Rayne made her way through the crowd of people and out of the bar.

What she had heard was true Bryan Adams. He definitely wasn’t as hard rocking as what Rayne usually liked but his lyrics were amazing and his energy as a solo artist was great. You could tell that he was still learning about himself on stage and commanding a large crowd, but he had incredible potential. Once he had left the stage Rayne walked up to the concession stands to grab a beer, not her favorite but it would do. When she returned to her aisle seat the lights went down and the crowd erupted.

When Journey came on she was transfixed, they were just absolutely incredible musicians and Steve Perry’s voice soared throughout the arena.

Early on in the set the keyboard notes of one of Rayne’s favorite songs off the new record started emitting an excited squeal from her.

It's been so long Since I've seen her face You say she's doing fine

Rayne sang along to the words loving hearing the crowd sing the words back to the band. She hoped one day that would be what Motley Crue received every night on stage. They had been the opener for the tour with Ozzy and the crowds knew some of their more popular songs but she knew one day they’d be the headliner and the crowd would drown them out during every song.

I still recall A sad cafe How it hurt so bad to see her cry I didn't want to say good-bye

There was something about the way Steve sung the lyrics that night, it went straight to her heart. She felt the tears start to sting, it all just hit too close to home.

Send her my love, memories remain Send her my love, roses never fade Send her my love

The same hotel, the same old room I'm on the road again She needed so much more Than I could give

Rayne almost jumped out of her skin when she felt someone grab her hand. She turned ready to punch whoever it was that thought they could grab her. But was shocked as hell to see Tommy standing sheepishly next to her.

We knew our love could not pretend Broken hearts can always mend

Half of her was elated, and the other half was seething. Did he seriously think he could just show back up and be affectionate? Rayne unlaced their fingers and watched as Tommy silently mouthed, “I’m sorry.” She didn’t respond, simply turned her attention to the stage and the electrifying band on it.

The last song before the encore that night was Faithfully, and honestly the lyrics and song were completely too much for Rayne, halfway through the song she pushed past Tommy and began climbing the stairs up to the concourse. Rayne kept her head down, her hands furiously wiping tears away from her cheeks.

“Rayne! Rayne wait!” She nearly stilled at the sound of Tommy’s voice but kept moving through the arena. She was forced to stop walking when Tommy grabbed her hand and spun her towards him. “Rayne, hear me out.”

“What’s there to hear Tommy?” Rayne raised her voice. “You bail on me for a week and then you just fucking show up here and act like everything is okay?”

Slipping her hand out of his grasp Rayne turned on her heel and walked towards one of the arena doors. The crisp December air was a welcome feeling against her hot skin. “Rayne! I’m not trying to act like everything is okay. Just, talk to me!”

“I’m going home.” Rayne said as she reached her car. “So if you want to talk, that’s where I’ll be. If you can even remember how to get there.”

Tommy opened the passenger side door and slipped into the seat causing Rayne to lean down inside the car looking at him in shock, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going home with you.” Tommy said simply. Rayne sighed getting behind the wheel.

“I’m not saying a word until we get home. You just fucked with me seeing a band I really love.” Rayne said pointedly at Tommy turning the key in the ignition and cranking up the volume on her cassette player. Malibu wasn’t extremely close to Los Angeles and Rayne was seething behind the wheel. Eventually they pulled into the driveway and Rayne turned the car off and silently walked into her home with Tommy falling behind her. Rayne put her bag down on the kitchen counter and turned to Tommy, “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

“Rayne, I’m sorry. I completely reacted the wrong way. I should never have left that day, and I should’ve come back before tonight. I just, I didn’t know what to do, or what to say.” Tommy admitted. “So I’ll start with the beginning.”

Rayne crossed her arms and was all ears.

“When you told me about the baby, everything in my brain started to misfire. It was a lot to take in, I was excited to think we were pregnant, and then to hear that we lost the baby was heartbreaking. And then it was earth shattering to hear that you thought you had to bear the grief on your own to not hurt me.” Tommy’s words were coming out rapid fire, Rayne knew he was nervous. “I could only imagine what you were going through. And it made complete sense why you pulled away. But on top of all of that, I was still hurt.”

“You shouted at me Tommy.” Rayne said sadly. “You have never raised your voice to me the entire time we’ve been together.”

“I regret that as much as disappearing. I never should have done that, there’s no excuse for that. No matter how angry or hurt I was feeling, I should never have raised my voice. That’s not me.”

Rayne heavily sighed and looked down to the floor. “Where do we go from here?”

“We talk about how we’re feeling. What happened is no small thing baby. And this is the first time either of us have been able to talk about it with a cool head.”

“You hurt me Tommy. Do you remember what you said to me before you walked out?” Rayne couldn’t even look at him.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t.” Tommy said sadly.

“You said ‘it looks like you failed at that too,’ and you know that cuts me to the bone. When we talked about a family I told you my biggest fear would be that I would fail them. And I was already beating myself up about doing exactly that. So for you to say that to me…” Rayne began to get choked up. “It broke my heart Tommy.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Even in anger that is below the belt.” Tommy apologized. “How can we fix this? I know we can get through this as long as we’re together.”

Rayne looked up at Tommy with tears in her eyes, “Just get over here and hold me.”

Tommy let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding and rushed toward Rayne and tightly wrapped his arms around her, lifting her ever so slightly off the ground. Rayne wrapped her hands around Tommy’s neck burying her face in his hair, breathing in his scent. Tommy whispered in her ear, “I missed you so much baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

Smiling softly Rayne began to cry. It felt so good simply to have his arms wrapped around her. It was the first time since the accident that they had really touched or showed any physical affection to the other. “I’m so sorry Tommy.”

“What? Baby you have nothing to be sorry for.” Tommy pulled his head back in order to look at Rayne. Rayne just nodded her head.

“I do, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have. And I’m so sorry I was caught up with the craziness of life and completely unaware of the fact that I was pregnant. If I’d have know I’d have been more cautious.”

“No, baby. No. Do not apologize for any of that. You had no idea, and I think for anyone, not actively trying, that is probably normal to not know. Maybe we just have to trust in that everything does happen for a reason.” Tommy said softly, gently caressing Rayne’s face. “You are perfect, and you’re going to be a great mom, when the time is right. And I’m here for you Rayne, truly, I am here.”

Smiling softly at his words Rayne leaned in a kissed his lips tentatively. "I've been an emotional wreck for weeks Tommy. Just because you and I are alright it doesn't change that fact."

"I'm here for you baby, no matter what. My only ask is don't hide what you're going through from me. If you're hit with a wave of sadness I want you to come to me for support okay?" Rayne nodded her head. "I'll always be here to support you baby."

Rayne knew he was telling the truth. She knew he would support her through not only the emotions that may come up but also through life in general. Happy that they put that on the table Rayne asked another question that had been bugging her all week. “Where exactly did you go anyway?”

“I crashed at Mick’s house much to his dismay.” Tommy gave a light chuckle.

“Oh I’m sure he absolutely loved that.”

“I got a lot of shit thrown at me all week.” Tommy nodded. “So am I forgiven?”

“Am I forgiven?” Rayne asked for herself.

“There’s nothing to forgive baby.” Tommy kissed her.

“Ditto.” Rayne smiled. “Can we go to bed now? I’m exhausted.”

Holding his hand out for her to take Rayne gladly did and allowed Tommy to lead her upstairs to bed. Tommy took off his shirt as Rayne walked into the bathroom to take her makeup off and wash her face. Rayne looked at herself in the mirror to see she looked like a hot mess, mascara stains had run down her cheeks from her tears. “Jeeze Tommy, you could’ve told me I looked insane.”

“You don’t look insane, you look beautiful.” Tommy spoke from the bedroom. Rayne popped her head out of the bathroom to look at him.

“I love you babe, but I look like a crazy person.” Rayne chuckled taking a makeup wipe to her face and walking back into the bathroom. After washing her face, moisturizing her skin and pulling her hair up in a pony tail Rayne padded into the bedroom. She opened one of her drawers and grabbed an oversized t-shirt. She walked over to the bed, throwing the t-shirt on the mattress and began to undress. Of course Tommy rolled over on his side to admire his girlfriend.

“You are truly the most beautiful woman in the world.” Tommy said softly just before Rayne took off her bra, she playfully threw it at him. Grabbing it from the air Tommy smiled, “What? It’s true!”

Slipping her t-shirt over her head Rayne placed her clothes in the laundry basket. When she walked back to the bed Tommy threw the comforter and sheets down for Rayne to slip under. Rayne turned off the light next to the bed and slipped under the sheets, immediately Tommy wrapped his arms around Rayne pulling her close. He was home, not only in his physical home, Rayne was also his home. “It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home. Goodnight Tommy.” Rayne gave Tommy’s arm a squeeze.

“Goodnight baby.”

The next day Rayne woke up to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen. She rolled over to wake Tommy up only to be greeted with cold sheets. She sat up in bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes before pushing the covers off her to go downstairs. What she saw in the kitchen shocked her. Tommy was standing over the stove cooking, actually cooking. "What are you making?"

Startled Tommy turned to look at Rayne. "Well you're always feeding me so I wanted to treat you to some french toast."

"Tommy it smells amazing." Rayne said appreciatively taking a deep breath in. "Since when do you cook?"

"I mean, I wouldn't consider following the receipe anything special but my mom taught me a few things in the kitchen." He grinned shyly. "And besides I know you're going to be cooking a lot today, which I'll also gladly help with. But I figured one thing you didn't have to worry about would be helpful. Now sit down."

Rayne smiled at the gentle command and took a seat at the kitchen table watching Tommy work his magic. The food did really smell amazing and she hadn't eaten french toast in forever. "So everything is still going as planned for tonight and tomorrow?"

"Yeah. My mom is so excited to see you and the house and have your cooking." Tommy said enthusiastically while bringing a plate over setting it in front of Rayne. He then quickly returned back with a cup of coffee.

"Well I'm glad I did my shopping this week. I didn't know what would be happening, what with everything that was happening." Rayne teased Tommy, he took it well. "Anyway I hope you like seafood because there's going to be lots of it tonight."

Rayne's grandmother had passed down many Italian traditions to her, one of the ones the older woman was most passionate about was the Christmas Eve meal of the seven fishes. She had never really had the opportunity to do it on her own because it was usually just her and Jo, and Jo wasn't much a fan of seafood.

"I love me some seafood and anything that you cook. You know my mother is going to be flying around trying to help you right?"

“And I will gladly welcome the help.” Rayne took a sip of her coffee. “Also I’m just saying, if your cooking for other things is as good as your French toast, I’m gonna have to go to have to work harder at kickboxing class. Because food this good will make me fat.”

Tommy laughed and took a bite of French toast for himself. “I’m glad you like it. You always cook so much for me, I figured it was only right to return the favor.”

Rayne simply tapped her index finger against her pursed lips and Tommy happily pushed his chair back and leaned over the table to kiss Rayne’s lips. She tasted like maple syrup and cinnamon she was sugar and spice incarnate. When Tommy pulled away from her lips he couldn’t help how his heart soared. She was his person, she was his forever. He stood up straight and started to make his way up the stairs. Rayne called after him playfully, “Tommy where are you going?”

“Just, stay. Right there.” Tommy said enthusiastically as he disappeared into their bedroom. Shrugging her shoulders Rayne took one last bite of French toast before pushing the dish away from her and grabbing a strawberry to nibble on. Rayne heard him shuffling around before he rushed back down the steps until he stood tall in front of Rayne.

“Tommy, what are y…” she couldn’t even finish her sentence Tommy was down on one knee.

“Rayne Sykes, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my whole life. You make me so happy, and if you’ll allow me I’ll spend my entire life trying to make you as happy as you make me. Everything good that has happened to me and all the good that is yet to come, it all means nothing unless you are right next to me to experience for it. I wanted to propose at the perfect moment, I wanted everything to be perfect. But what I was blind to was that every moment with you is perfection.” Tommy spoke with a heartfelt passion and pulled out a red velvet box opening it to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. Rayne gasped when she saw it. “Rayne Sykes, will you marry me?”

Rayne was genuinely shocked. She knew Tommy had wanted to propose to her the night of the accident, but she didn’t expect him to choose this moment to do it. His words were beautiful and from the heart, everything Tommy did was from the heart. She didn’t know what she did to deserve the man kneeling in front of her but she would be happy to be his forever, and she would be happy to have him forever. Rayne began to frantically nod her head smiling wide before she happily replied, “Yes.”

Tommy took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto Rayne’s ring finger before standing up smiling down at her. Rayne stood up and onto her tippy toes to bring her lips to Tommy’s. Pulling away she looked down at the sparkling ring on her finger which the diamond itself was large but the band was also completely adorned with smaller diamonds. It was just completely stunning. “Do you like it?”

“Tommy it’s beautiful.” Rayne exclaimed breathlessly before meeting his gaze and giggling. “Holy shit, did we just get engaged?”

“We’re engaged baby.” Tommy smiled leaning in to kiss Rayne once more.

It was not how Rayne expected the day to begin, but it was a welcomed surprise. She knew she had to shower and get ready for the day and Tommy’s family but right now she wanted to stay in this little bubble that was just the two of them as long as she possibly could.

Take me to the next chapter....

---

Did I make up for making you all suffer the last few chapters? It’s not the end of angst in this story but for now we’ll live in the bubble of happiness. Did you listen to the songs while reading? What did you think? Any favorite parts of this chapter? Anything you’d like to see moving forward? Let me know!

#I NEED FIRE #The Dirt #the dirt fanfic #the dirt imagine #motley crue fanfic #motley crue imagine #Tommy Lee #tommy lee x oc #tommy lee fanfic #tommy lee imagine #engagement #couple #christmas #concert #fanfic #fan fiction #Original Work #original story #My Story

46 notes · View notes