I am also thinking so much about the strange dynamic that Oscar and Cosmo have: Oscar churlish, pessimistic, hating himself, and Cosmo who remembers, even as old as he is, who probably remembers everything that Oscar's forgotten.
And Oscar's repeated statement of, "It should be the other way around. I should be the one taking care of you." It sounds at first, before you know, like frustration of a young man who feels like too much of a fuck up to take care of his elderly relative, even though Cosmo clearly has plenty of help. But once you flip it, it feels almost more incongruous—Oscar feeling like he's failed as a father, perhaps because he hasn't been able to act as an example for Cosmo, perhaps because of the amnesia, perhaps because Cosmo has seemingly dedicated his entire life to helping Oscar, even to his advanced age. But it doesn't seem like Cosmo is concerned about that.
As old as Cosmo is, as determined as it sounds like he is to fix Oscar's plight, it almost feels like he's lived this long out of spite and force of will. This is his purpose and his life's work, and it's not finished yet.
But if they succeed at ending this ritual or curse, what becomes of either of them? Cosmo, certainly, can rest then, and Oscar can in theory live out the rest of his life in peace, but at that point he's no longer forgetting anymore. He'll live out whatever remains with the belief that Cosmo's life was dedicated solely to this, and unlike Oscar, he won't even have the chance to have a life beyond it. I wonder if Oscar, knowing this, is so pessimistic by this point because no matter the outcome, he's already failed Cosmo on a fundamental, irretrievable level.
There's very little chance, even if Oscar doesn't live for long after this ends, that Oscar won't be the one burying Cosmo, rather than the other way around. A father isn't meant to outlive his children.
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Sev + "I'm going to give you five seconds to take that back."
Sev x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Flirty (ish).
Word Count: 2,400
Warnings: discussions of medical concerns, references to missions, stimulant misuse, grandstanding, ill-planned bets, semi-flirtatious wrestling.
---
It had all started when you tried to talk your most recent set of charges into being more healthy.
Delta Squad had been a source of constant frustration for you since you were assigned to be their medic. Normally, commando squads weren’t overly concerned about having a medic on-board. However, Delta had a close call on a previous mission. One commando, Sev, had been in especially bad shape.
Some time in a bacta tank had fixed the worst of their injuries, but there were certain limits they shouldn’t push if they wanted to avoid a repeat. Sev needed to be particularly careful, since he had suffered damage to his ribs and many of the organs within them - including his heart.
Which was why you had been irretrievably furious when you found him downing a packet of stims.
“Are you trying to die?” you had demanded. “Because I know you’re not stupid, and those are the only possible reasons you would be using stims with damage to your heart. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I have a mission to complete and I don’t have eight hours to sleep before we get there.”
Honestly, you could have expected that kind of answer, but the nonchalant tone Sev had used was what pushed you over the edge.
“And when they wear off? You know, since you took them three hours before we even break atmosphere?” You had shaken your head, clenching your jaw so tightly that the muscles ached. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I would have advised you to sleep for that time, then take half a stim pack when we arrive.”
“I don’t need some vorpan baar'ur telling me what to do,” he had spat. “As long as I can do my job, the GAR doesn’t worry about the little things. Including my health or my life.”
You didn’t understand the Mando’a, obviously, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at the drama of his caustic words.
“Apparently, having someone tell you what to do is exactly what you needI” you had countered. “Do you know what kind of shape you’ll be in after another dose of stims? Even I would be able to beat you in a wrestling match! Some use you’ll be to your brothers then.”
It was a bit too far, and you felt bad as silence fell in the small ship. You had worked with enough troopers to know that they prided themselves on loyalty to their brothers above all else. In your defense, though, you recognized the signs of someone who wouldn’t be talked out of their nihilism. By meeting him head-on using the parameters of life as he saw it, you had hoped to shake him out of his stubbornness.
It was only bad luck that it hadn’t worked. Sev’s expression had darkened and you prepared yourself for a threat or a cutting insult, but Scorch had laughed, breaking the tension.
“Sounds like a good, old-fashioned bet,” he had said, chuckling in a way that could only be described as ‘gleeful’.
Sev had scoffed and walked away without another word, but your luck ran out.
Delta Squad had gotten a call from General Jusik, alerting them that the leader of the Separatist-controlled planet had opted for a peace talk. As a gesture of good faith, the GAR was withdrawing the commando squads who had been set to invade.
“We’ve been redirected,” Boss announced when Jusik disconnected the call. The sergeant stepped out of the small cockpit where he had been navigating with Fixer. “We’re to touch down on a Republic-friendly planet in the next system and settle in. We’ll be backup if things go south, so stay ready to go. Get some sleep if you can.”
“Those of us who didn’t already take a packet of stims,” you had muttered when Sev went back to cleaning his blaster instead of heading for the bunks.
Unfortunately, your sarcasm would prove to be your undoing. Scorch perked up at your quiet admonishment, visibly brightening. “Hey, didn’t you say you could beat Sev in hand-to-hand when he’s using stims?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, holding eye contact with Scorch, but trying to watch Sev in your peripheral vision.
“I’m going to give you five seconds to take that back,” Sev growled. When you looked over, you saw that he very much was not focusing on his blaster anymore.
“I don’t think I will.” The way you lifted your chin was nothing short of antagonistic, but you were angry. Clarity of thought while angry had never been your forte. Despite that, you clocked the gray undertones in Sev’s face and the way his fingers were trembling slightly. “In fact, I think I could beat you now, whether or not you take another dose.”
“You’re on,” Sev told you, a challenge thick in his tone.
“Wait-” How you hadn’t seen this coming, you weren’t sure, but your stomach was sinking. “I didn’t mean I actually want to wrestle you. I’m just telling you, as a medical professional, that-”
“Hey, you already said you would,” Scorch reminded you. “Too late to go back on it now.”
“Knock it off, Six-Two. It isn’t too late for anything,” Fixer told him, turning around in the cockpit to face you all. Before you could thank him, he continued as he eyed you directly. “It’s actually a choice: wrestle Oh-Seven or admit that stims aren’t that bad.”
“They are that bad, though,” you insisted.
“If you’re going to wrestle on my ship, do it in the cargo bay,” Boss said over his shoulder. “I don’t want to explain broken equipment to the GAR.”
“This isn’t enough of a challenge to break anything,” Sev decreed. He watched you as he set aside his blaster and stood. “Cargo bay. Five minutes.”
It was overdramatic to specify a time and place on such a small ship, but it still made the pit of your stomach tighten. You took care to offer him an unimpressed face and a simple nod.
"This is gonna be fun!" Scorch said excitedly.
You strongly disagreed, but that wasn’t going to help. It was far too late for that. So you stifled your misgivings and made your way to the back of the ship.
Sev had stripped off his armor by the time you got there. That hadn’t been a concern, but you wondered if it should have been. There was nothing at all you could do against plastoid armor. However, much as you loathed to admit it even to yourself… you were almost as disadvantaged anyway. The sight of Sev’s muscles swelling and bulging under the tightness of his body glove was enough to make the ship feel like it was lurching through the galaxy.
You were wearing comfortable clothes, having refused to change into your lightly armored medic’s gear until you were closer to your eventual destination. You were comfortable and didn’t have to strip off any clothing, but that was almost a pity. It was starting to feel distinctly warm aboard the small ship…
“Ready?” Sev asked.
You nodded, resigned to being decimated by the fully-trained commando. He didn’t attack immediately, choosing to watch you instead. You circled warily, already closer than you liked. The cargo bay of the ship was reasonably big and, as promised, you weren’t going to break anything. That should keep Boss happy, but there still wasn’t a vast amount of space.
So you and Sev circled around, watching each other. You were focused on his chest: all of the hand-to-hand training the GAR had offered told you that motion was typically forecasted in the torso, so that was the best place to watch if you wanted to avoid being surprised.
When you occasionally snuck a glance at Sev, he was watching your face rather than your torso. At first, you wondered if you should be doing the same with him, but then you started to feel flustered rather than wary at the weight of his eyes.
That was when he pounced.
You managed to avoid the first lunge, but you weren’t expecting him to recover his balance as quickly as he did. In half a moment, Sev was upright once more and diving at you.
A strong arm hooked around your waist and you were falling, cushioned from the ground by Sev’s body, but the impact still knocked the air from your lungs. Sev flipped you over and you made your move, rolling quickly out from under him before he had time to close the distance between you.
You got to your feet - or, you started to. Sev’s hand closed around your ankle and pulled. It wasn’t enough to put you back on the floor, but it was enough to bring you heavily to your hands and knees. Since you were already in the proper position, you kicked out with your foot and felt a surge of victory when your heel connected.
And then you were horrified, turning around as you gave a loud gasp. “Sev! Are you okay? I’m so sorry-”
There was a small smudge of dirt on his forehead from your boot, but Sev’s grin flashed bright. “I’m fine. Keep going.”
And then he grabbed both of your ankles, pulling hard enough that your knees went out from under you and you landed on your stomach with a soft, “Oof!”
Sudden heat at your back warned that Sev was getting ready to pin you, so you rolled again. He seemed to expect the movement then, dropping onto you in mid-turn from your side to your back.
With a sudden, surging need to keep your freedom, you pulled back a fist. Your goal was Sev’s recently injured ribs, but you came to your senses before the blow came too close to landing. You were a medic, and every bit of training you had received covered how to prevent injuries, not cause them.
Sev didn’t know that, however, and he winced sharply. He curled into himself in an effort to protect his ribs - a motion that only put more pressure on them. The flash of pain across his face would have made you stop even if you hadn’t already decided to do so.
“Are you-?”
Before you could ask if he was hurt, he had reached down, snagged your wrists, and pressed them against the cold metal of the floor. You were pinned.
You were on your back with a commando pressing you into the floor, but you both… stopped. Your breathing was heavy and - with more than a little surprise - you noticed that Sev’s was, too. Of course, his ribs probably still hurt and you would have to check him for a boot-borne head injury, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling anything other than pain.
You definitely were.
The chilly bite of the floor at your back faded into the distance as you and Sev studied each other from closer than you had ever been. Sev always looked vaguely angry, but you had wondered if that was his natural expression. That seemed to be true: if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would have taken his expression to be one of irritation and disdain. But there was softness in it, too. That was what left you feeling like you couldn’t get a full breath.
“Well, Sev, I’d say you won,” Boss remarked dryly.
The comment pulled you back into the moment and you realized that Boss, Fixer, and Scorch were all observing the scene. It felt vaguely ridiculous then, wondering what it would be like to kiss the man who currently had you pinned to the dirty floor. But as Sev released his grip and stood, you missed the warmth of him like it was something tangible.
To your surprise, though, Sev held a hand out to you in a silent offer to help you stand. You took it and he lifted you easily. The silence was thick.
You cleared your throat. “Well, I guess I was wrong. One stim pack isn’t enough for me to win a wrestling match. I still think-”
“Save it,” Sev ordered and you froze. No matter what you thought had changed between you, it wasn’t enough to save you from his sharp tongue. But when he spoke again, Sev’s voice was far more gentle. “It was closer than I thought it would be. Another few minutes and I would have probably lost. I’ll lay off the stims.”
“Aww, no rematch?” Scorch complained.
Fixer made a sharply derisive noise and left for the cockpit. “I’ll pilot us to the staging planet.”
“All of you, get some rest,” Boss ordered before he left as well.
Scorch lingered a moment, glancing between you and Sev. You were still standing close together, the tension palpable between you. Unlike most of your interactions, that tension was not actively hostile.
You were torn between wanting Scorch to leave so you and Sev could talk about what had just happened, and wanting him to stay so you didn’t have to. Slowly, like he was watching something interesting unfold before his eyes, Scorch turned and retreated to his bunk. Since the bunks were in the section just ahead of the cargo bay, Scorch was still in hearing range, but a sense of privacy settled thickly around you and Sev.
When you finally gathered the courage to look over, Sev was watching you. Neither of you spoke, and your mind raced in an effort to find the right words.
Your lips parted, though you didn’t have the slightest idea what you planned on saying. Fortunately, Sev spoke before you could say some muddled assortment of words that might mean nothing… or too much.
“We should sleep while we can,” he told you. After a moment, he added with a wry grin, “Some medic told me I need actual rest, not just stim packs.”
It was more familiar ground, and you relaxed enough to jibe, “What disappointing news.”
“Yeah,” Sev agreed. “But the delivery made it a little better.”
You could only shake your head as you followed him to the bunks.
---
Author's Note - I love Sev wayyyyy too much! I have written more fics for him than for any other member of Delta Squad. That being said, I'm going to focus on Scorch and Boss next since I haven't done much for them. If you have any great ideas for either one that you'd like to throw my way, feel free to comment, ask, or message!
Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist. As of a few days ago, I discontinued my taglist. You can find just fics on my side-blog, @wanderinginksplot-writes. (As soon as I work through my drafts on this blog, all fics will be posted there first and cross-posted here later.)
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To me, this sequence is the crux of why Xie Wei is the endgame for JXN in terms of suitability - in terms of someone who allows her to be most at peace with herself and live happily. It's not just because with ZZ, she will always strive for an ideal and hide the "uglier" parts of herself. It's because as others pointed out - she needs to learn to love herself and she is mired in guilt around him - but also, XW doesn't just see her the way she is and loves that, he is also someone who is determined, obsessed even, with looking forward not back.
In some ways, he's the most driven by the past out of all the characters (he wants justice/vengeance for what happened during the siege, this is his cause) but that's the thing - his attitude is "this horrific thing has happened, it cannot be changed, now we will figure out how to deal with this and address it" (which in his case is a lot of murder :P) is something JXN needs - she's been trying to change the past emotionally, as well as physically and I think she needs to accept that she is irretrievably changed, you can't unring the bell, you can't make her pure naive girl who (in her belief system) is worthy of ZZ (btw any relationship where you constantly work to be worthy of the other person is unhealthy at best and doomed at worst), you can just move forward, in whatever way possible.
In a way, what he says here is quite straightforward and in keeping with his "moving forward" attitude - if you can't let go, don't. Her guilt won't allow her to hear that.
Lady, he talks a good talk but he's already 85% to losing control over you.
And that is when all red flags that did not manifest before, manifested, in terms of that relationship. ZZ is a good man, probably the best of the characters. But any relationship where you are doing Jesus and Mary Magdalene imitation, viewing someone as literally flawless, as someone who shouldn't be touched by anything even if you tear out your heart, because you are so unworthy is not a romantic relationship, that's a medieval nun's attitude to her God. No go in real life. It wouldn't work and if somehow it did, would never make her truly happy. JXN should be in a relationship not even of mutual pedestals but being seen and seeing the other person as messy flawed being but still worthy of love.
I laughed. I adore XW but what he knows about people's hearts in terms of romance is equivalent to a turnip.
Time-out for haaaaaaands!
And despite my snark, it's not a turnip of an answer at all, it's perfect (I think he's terrible at telling his own heart but not others.) That is what she needs to hear - as I mentioned - not ignoring what's in the past but moving on.
I love it so much!!! And I love that he's genuinely heartbroken for her pain and just wants to fix it - there is none of that "my chance is here" attitude.
It's an angsty moment but I giggled because I remembered wailing after my first high school boyfriend dumped me "I am never going to love anyone like this! I could never find someone like this!" Spoiler - I was wrong :P (And probably wouldn't be able to pick the guy out of a line-up now.)
But, more importantly, I was screaming into my hands, when he said "find someone more suitable." Not just because this is XW in a nutshell - he accepts the situation as it is, no arguing with the premise and offers a different solution (nobody is better? OK, accepted, then how do we deal in this situation) but because this is the crux of the OTP. What JXN (and every other person looking for a partner) needs in this world is not the person who is the smartest or saintliest or w/e, they need the most suitable person for them, whoever that is, to be happy. Objectively saintly ZZ is not particularly suitable for her; goodness is not happiness, not always, and she needs to accept that and fully accept herself.
Yes, there will be!
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Irretrievable
Last night, I couldn't get this out of my head. So I wrote it. Thought I'd give Virgil a whirl this time and give Scooter a little break from emotional pain.
Bonus points to anyone who can guess which song inspired this one. It's not entirely subtle from the start.
Edit to add the AO3 link.
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"You're losing me, Vee."
That gut-wrenching pain that only came when hearts shattered into a million pieces tore through Virgil's entire being. This wasn't supposed to be how the night ended, it wasn't supposed to be how their story ended. He hated how he couldn't control it, how he had allowed it all to simmer under the surface and break apart this way.
"I don't understand..."
"I know you don't."
"Come on, Harper, let's just talk about this!" He would beg, he would plead, because he couldn't let it go. He couldn't let him go. The ache, the loss, the pain would tear him apart bit by bit. Virgil could already feel himself breaking.
Harper stood firm, retreating a few steps when Virgil tried to close the distance, trying to make it right. "I can't."
"Please don't just walk away. Whatever it is, I can fix it. We can fix it. You've just got to talk to me."
"Talking is all I ever try to do!" Harper snapped. The salty stream of tears continued to run but it was clear he'd turned his own heartbreak into rage. Maybe it would make it easier for him to deal with. Maybe it was truly how he felt.
Either way, Virgil felt baffled by it. Never had he seen Harper so enraged, and to think that it was his fault... if his heart hadn't already been shattered, it would have in that second.
"I always tried to talk." Harper continued, seemingly not caring for how Virgil would take his words. Apparently he was done trying to tip-toe around the subject. "You never listened. You were always busy."
That wasn't... entirely true, surely? Virgil would have defended that he was a brilliant listener. He was certainly the best out of his family, and he had worn that honour with pride. For Harper to claim he hadn't been listening to them.
"Do you know when we last had an actual proper conversation, Vee?"
The question very quickly had him stumped. Virgil attempted to answer but had to close his mouth quickly to avoid looking like a fish out of water — something he very much felt in this given situation — because the answer evaded him.
"Two weeks ago." Harper put him out of his misery with a scoff. "You don't even remember!"
"Hey, I've had a lot on my plate!" He didn't snap — Virgil never snapped — but he was beginning to get irrate. Harper accusing him of things Virgil would very much disagree with? It was ludicrous and borderline over-dramatic.
"With International Rescue? Yeah, I know."
Virgil bit back a retort as he watched Harper roll his eyes. That single action seemed hurt him more than any of his other accusations had thus far.
"When we first started seeing each other, you said you were fine with International Rescue."
"That was before I saw the truth!"
Virgil blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"
Harper, as though he was stating the obvious and Virgil was too dumb to catch onto his meaning, sighed. "You promised it wouldn't get in the eay. You promised you'd have time for me, for us. You lied."
"I didn't lie!"
"You lied, Virgil! Or, at the very least, you didn't keep those promises."
Harper was back to the heartbreaking crying now, the rage passing over like a dark storm cloud that was now content it had flooded a region.
"I didn't... It's not... International Rescue is important, you know that. It's important to my family, to the world, to me."
"You pushed me down the list." Harper accused sharply.
"There's never been any list! You're acting as though I've been cheating on you!"
"I guess it kind of feels that way."
"For fuck's sake, Harper, it's my job!"
"Well, maybe I don't think you should do that job anymore!"
The truth leaked out in Harper's yell, his arms perching on his hips. Virgil saw the pain in his partner's eyes, saw the raw, honest hurt that had clearly been pushed below the surface more than once to avoid such a confrontation.
Noticing it helped to dull the betrayal Virgil felt in his soul, but only by a fraction.
Harper didn't relent. "You'd cancel on me, go out on those ridiculous, death-defying missions and I wouldn't know if you'd ever be coming home. You'd say we'd rearrange our dinner, but I never knew if you'd ever make it back."
He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper that was broken up by uneven sobbing. "You're killing me, Virgil. You're killing me and the worst part is you don't see that."
Harper had been wrong earlier. Virgil wasn't losing him. Harper was already lost, because Virgil didn't know how to fix it.
He wasn't going to give up International Rescue. He loved the job almost as much as he loved to paint. It was his last connection with his late-father and was a pillar of his family.
Above all else, he saved lives and gave hope to people when every other resort failed.
No, he wouldn't give any of that up.
Virgil knew that Harper already understood that. The conversation would have taken a different turn had his boyfriend thought their relationship was at all salvagable.
"I love you." Virgil said, knowing it would be for the last time. He'd spoken those three words to Harper on so many occasions over the last twenty months. Never had they stung so badly.
He hadn't expected Harper to respond in kind, but the lack of hearing the words "I love you too, Vee" had Virgil's heart disintergrating.
There was no love left.
Harper had left that night with all his items stuffed into a suitcase and a dufflebag. They hadn't exchanged anymore words. Virgil watched as Harper exited the penthouse suite for the last time, not even looking back to offer him one last glimpse of those hazel eyes that would now haunt him for the rest of his life.
Alone again.
Without love again.
Virgil didn't sleep that night, too caught up in his mind. How had he not seen the signs? How had he not caught this before it had become too late? Was he truly so absorbed in his work to have so blindly stumbled down this path instead of his happily ever after?
He had seen the same story play out time and time again with Scott. Virgil had promised himself he wouldn't end up like his older brother. Then again, according to Harper, he wasn't the best with promises so why was he surprised he wasn't able to keep this one?
Virgil eyed his communicator. He was too emotionally exhausted to work out the time zones but if he called Tracy Island, one of his brothers was sure to pick up. He allowed the call to ring for what seemed like an age, and was about to hang up when John appeared as a floating image in front of him.
"Thought you were supposed to be grabbing steak at that new restaurant?" He asked by way of greeting.
"Harper... he left."
John's face fell. "Did he have a call-out?"
Virgil shook his head, hanging it lowly to hide the new stream of tears from view.
It didn't matter. John clocked on fairly quickly. "Virgil, I'm so sorry."
Comforting words were said, reassurances and love expressed, but Virgil still felt that gaping hole inside him. Harper had gone and he had taken what felt like Virgil's very soul with him.
"Do you ever question the point of what we do?" He eventually asked John once he was tired of hearing his brother's attempts of cheering him up.
"Not really. Our work is important."
"What's the point in saving the world if we have no-one to come home to?"
John didn't have an answer to that. He could have been a wise-ass and noted how they still had each other, but he didn't. Virgil appreciated that.
The question haunted him for weeks, just as the memory of Harper failed to leave him. Over and over again, he'd ask himself what the point was. Over and over again, he'd force himself to ignore the ache in his chest when he couldn't find an answer.
He felt like he was dying. In killing Harper's love, Virgil was certain he'd killed part of himself. The days grew longer and more wearisome, but he kept pushing.
One day, the pain would heal. One day, he'd find someone who understood the workload. One day, his heart would beat again for someone new.
He just had to keep holding out until that day came, no matter how long it took.
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December 21st: or was it?
The dwellers in Saville Row would have been surprised the next day, if they had been told that Phileas Fogg had returned home. His doors and windows were still closed, no appearance of change was visible.
After leaving the station, Mr. Fogg gave Passepartout instructions to purchase some provisions, and quietly went to his domicile.
He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. Ruined! And by the blundering of the detective! After having steadily traversed that long journey, overcome a hundred obstacles, braved many dangers, and still found time to do some good on his way, to fail near the goal by a sudden event which he could not have foreseen, and against which he was unarmed; it was terrible! But a few pounds were left of the large sum he had carried with him. There only remained of his fortune the twenty thousand pounds deposited at Barings, and this amount he owed to his friends of the Reform Club. So great had been the expense of his tour that, even had he won, it would not have enriched him; and it is probable that he had not sought to enrich himself, being a man who rather laid wagers for honour’s sake than for the stake proposed. But this wager totally ruined him.
Mr. Fogg’s course, however, was fully decided upon; he knew what remained for him to do.
A room in the house in Saville Row was set apart for Aouda, who was overwhelmed with grief at her protector’s misfortune. From the words which Mr. Fogg dropped, she saw that he was meditating some serious project.
Knowing that Englishmen governed by a fixed idea sometimes resort to the desperate expedient of suicide, Passepartout kept a narrow watch upon his master, though he carefully concealed the appearance of so doing.
First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room, and had extinguished the gas burner, which had been burning for eighty days. He had found in the letter-box a bill from the gas company, and he thought it more than time to put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to bear.
The night passed. Mr. Fogg went to bed, but did he sleep? Aouda did not once close her eyes. Passepartout watched all night, like a faithful dog, at his master’s door.
Mr. Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get Aouda’s breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself. He desired Aouda to excuse him from breakfast and dinner, as his time would be absorbed all day in putting his affairs to rights. In the evening he would ask permission to have a few moment’s conversation with the young lady.
Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing to do but obey them. He looked at his imperturbable master, and could scarcely bring his mind to leave him. His heart was full, and his conscience tortured by remorse; for he accused himself more bitterly than ever of being the cause of the irretrievable disaster. Yes! if he had warned Mr. Fogg, and had betrayed Fix’s projects to him, his master would certainly not have given the detective passage to Liverpool, and then—
Passepartout could hold in no longer.
“My master! Mr. Fogg!” he cried, “why do you not curse me? It was my fault that—”
“I blame no one,” returned Phileas Fogg, with perfect calmness. “Go!”
Passepartout left the room, and went to find Aouda, to whom he delivered his master’s message.
“Madam,” he added, “I can do nothing myself—nothing! I have no influence over my master; but you, perhaps—”
“What influence could I have?” replied Aouda. “Mr. Fogg is influenced by no one. Has he ever understood that my gratitude to him is overflowing? Has he ever read my heart? My friend, he must not be left alone an instant! You say he is going to speak with me this evening?”
“Yes, madam; probably to arrange for your protection and comfort in England.”
“We shall see,” replied Aouda, becoming suddenly pensive.
Throughout this day (Sunday) the house in Saville Row was as if uninhabited, and Phileas Fogg, for the first time since he had lived in that house, did not set out for his club when Westminster clock struck half-past eleven.
Why should he present himself at the Reform? His friends no longer expected him there. As Phileas Fogg had not appeared in the saloon on the evening before (Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine), he had lost his wager. It was not even necessary that he should go to his bankers for the twenty thousand pounds; for his antagonists already had his cheque in their hands, and they had only to fill it out and send it to the Barings to have the amount transferred to their credit.
Mr. Fogg, therefore, had no reason for going out, and so he remained at home. He shut himself up in his room, and busied himself putting his affairs in order. Passepartout continually ascended and descended the stairs. The hours were long for him. He listened at his master’s door, and looked through the keyhole, as if he had a perfect right so to do, and as if he feared that something terrible might happen at any moment. Sometimes he thought of Fix, but no longer in anger. Fix, like all the world, had been mistaken in Phileas Fogg, and had only done his duty in tracking and arresting him; while he, Passepartout. . . . This thought haunted him, and he never ceased cursing his miserable folly.
Finding himself too wretched to remain alone, he knocked at Aouda’s door, went into her room, seated himself, without speaking, in a corner, and looked ruefully at the young woman. Aouda was still pensive.
About half-past seven in the evening Mr. Fogg sent to know if Aouda would receive him, and in a few moments he found himself alone with her.
Phileas Fogg took a chair, and sat down near the fireplace, opposite Aouda. No emotion was visible on his face. Fogg returned was exactly the Fogg who had gone away; there was the same calm, the same impassibility.
He sat several minutes without speaking; then, bending his eyes on Aouda, “Madam,” said he, “will you pardon me for bringing you to England?”
“I, Mr. Fogg!” replied Aouda, checking the pulsations of her heart.
“Please let me finish,” returned Mr. Fogg. “When I decided to bring you far away from the country which was so unsafe for you, I was rich, and counted on putting a portion of my fortune at your disposal; then your existence would have been free and happy. But now I am ruined.”
“I know it, Mr. Fogg,” replied Aouda; “and I ask you in my turn, will you forgive me for having followed you, and—who knows?—for having, perhaps, delayed you, and thus contributed to your ruin?”
“Madam, you could not remain in India, and your safety could only be assured by bringing you to such a distance that your persecutors could not take you.”
“So, Mr. Fogg,” resumed Aouda, “not content with rescuing me from a terrible death, you thought yourself bound to secure my comfort in a foreign land?”
“Yes, madam; but circumstances have been against me. Still, I beg to place the little I have left at your service.”
“But what will become of you, Mr. Fogg?”
“As for me, madam,” replied the gentleman, coldly, “I have need of nothing.”
“But how do you look upon the fate, sir, which awaits you?”
“As I am in the habit of doing.”
“At least,” said Aouda, “want should not overtake a man like you. Your friends—”
“I have no friends, madam.”
“Your relatives—”
“I have no longer any relatives.”
“I pity you, then, Mr. Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, with no heart to which to confide your griefs. They say, though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, may be borne with patience.”
“They say so, madam.”
“Mr. Fogg,” said Aouda, rising and seizing his hand, “do you wish at once a kinswoman and friend? Will you have me for your wife?”
Mr. Fogg, at this, rose in his turn. There was an unwonted light in his eyes, and a slight trembling of his lips. Aouda looked into his face. The sincerity, rectitude, firmness, and sweetness of this soft glance of a noble woman, who could dare all to save him to whom she owed all, at first astonished, then penetrated him. He shut his eyes for an instant, as if to avoid her look. When he opened them again, “I love you!” he said, simply. “Yes, by all that is holiest, I love you, and I am entirely yours!”
“Ah!” cried Aouda, pressing his hand to her heart.
Passepartout was summoned and appeared immediately. Mr. Fogg still held Aouda’s hand in his own; Passepartout understood, and his big, round face became as radiant as the tropical sun at its zenith.
Mr. Fogg asked him if it was not too late to notify the Reverend Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone parish, that evening.
Passepartout smiled his most genial smile, and said, “Never too late.”
It was five minutes past eight.
“Will it be for to-morrow, Monday?”
“For to-morrow, Monday,” said Mr. Fogg, turning to Aouda.
“Yes; for to-morrow, Monday,” she replied.
Passepartout hurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.
It is time to relate what a change took place in English public opinion when it transpired that the real bankrobber, a certain James Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th day of December, at Edinburgh. Three days before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal, who was being desperately followed up by the police; now he was an honourable gentleman, mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey round the world.
The papers resumed their discussion about the wager; all those who had laid bets, for or against him, revived their interest, as if by magic; the “Phileas Fogg bonds” again became negotiable, and many new wagers were made. Phileas Fogg’s name was once more at a premium on ’Change.
His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three days in a state of feverish suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where was he at this moment? The 17th of December, the day of James Strand’s arrest, was the seventy-sixth since Phileas Fogg’s departure, and no news of him had been received. Was he dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he continuing his journey along the route agreed upon? And would he appear on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine in the evening, on the threshold of the Reform Club saloon?
The anxiety in which, for three days, London society existed, cannot be described. Telegrams were sent to America and Asia for news of Phileas Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the house in Saville Row morning and evening. No news. The police were ignorant what had become of the detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately followed up a false scent. Bets increased, nevertheless, in number and value. Phileas Fogg, like a racehorse, was drawing near his last turning-point. The bonds were quoted, no longer at a hundred below par, but at twenty, at ten, and at five; and paralytic old Lord Albemarle bet even in his favour.
A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neighbouring streets on Saturday evening; it seemed like a multitude of brokers permanently established around the Reform Club. Circulation was impeded, and everywhere disputes, discussions, and financial transactions were going on. The police had great difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and as the hour when Phileas Fogg was due approached, the excitement rose to its highest pitch.
The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met in the great saloon of the club. John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, the bankers, Andrew Stuart, the engineer, Gauthier Ralph, the director of the Bank of England, and Thomas Flanagan, the brewer, one and all waited anxiously.
When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, Andrew Stuart got up, saying, “Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the time agreed upon between Mr. Fogg and ourselves will have expired.”
“What time did the last train arrive from Liverpool?” asked Thomas Flanagan.
“At twenty-three minutes past seven,” replied Gauthier Ralph; “and the next does not arrive till ten minutes after twelve.”
“Well, gentlemen,” resumed Andrew Stuart, “if Phileas Fogg had come in the 7:23 train, he would have got here by this time. We can, therefore, regard the bet as won.”
“Wait; don’t let us be too hasty,” replied Samuel Fallentin. “You know that Mr. Fogg is very eccentric. His punctuality is well known; he never arrives too soon, or too late; and I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at the last minute.”
“Why,” said Andrew Stuart nervously, “if I should see him, I should not believe it was he.”
“The fact is,” resumed Thomas Flanagan, “Mr. Fogg’s project was absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality, he could not prevent the delays which were certain to occur; and a delay of only two or three days would be fatal to his tour.”
“Observe, too,” added John Sullivan, “that we have received no intelligence from him, though there are telegraphic lines all along his route.”
“He has lost, gentleman,” said Andrew Stuart, “he has a hundred times lost! You know, besides, that the ‘China’—the only steamer he could have taken from New York to get here in time arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of the passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them. Even if we admit that fortune has favoured him, he can scarcely have reached America. I think he will be at least twenty days behind-hand, and that Lord Albemarle will lose a cool five thousand.”
“It is clear,” replied Gauthier Ralph; “and we have nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg’s cheque at Barings to-morrow.”
At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty minutes to nine.
“Five minutes more,” said Andrew Stuart.
The five gentlemen looked at each other. Their anxiety was becoming intense; but, not wishing to betray it, they readily assented to Mr. Fallentin’s proposal of a rubber.
“I wouldn’t give up my four thousand of the bet,” said Andrew Stuart, as he took his seat, “for three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine.”
The clock indicated eighteen minutes to nine.
The players took up their cards, but could not keep their eyes off the clock. Certainly, however secure they felt, minutes had never seemed so long to them!
“Seventeen minutes to nine,” said Thomas Flanagan, as he cut the cards which Ralph handed to him.
Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was perfectly quiet; but the murmurs of the crowd outside were heard, with now and then a shrill cry. The pendulum beat the seconds, which each player eagerly counted, as he listened, with mathematical regularity.
“Sixteen minutes to nine!” said John Sullivan, in a voice which betrayed his emotion.
One minute more, and the wager would be won. Andrew Stuart and his partners suspended their game. They left their cards, and counted the seconds.
At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing.
At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, followed by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls.
The players rose from their seats.
At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened; and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg appeared, followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club doors, and in his calm voice, said, “Here I am, gentlemen!”
It is time to relate what a change took place in English public opinion when it transpired that the real bankrobber, a certain James Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th day of December, at Edinburgh. Three days before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal, who was being desperately followed up by the police; now he was an honourable gentleman, mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey round the world.
The papers resumed their discussion about the wager; all those who had laid bets, for or against him, revived their interest, as if by magic; the “Phileas Fogg bonds” again became negotiable, and many new wagers were made. Phileas Fogg’s name was once more at a premium on ’Change.
His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three days in a state of feverish suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where was he at this moment? The 17th of December, the day of James Strand’s arrest, was the seventy-sixth since Phileas Fogg’s departure, and no news of him had been received. Was he dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he continuing his journey along the route agreed upon? And would he appear on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine in the evening, on the threshold of the Reform Club saloon?
The anxiety in which, for three days, London society existed, cannot be described. Telegrams were sent to America and Asia for news of Phileas Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the house in Saville Row morning and evening. No news. The police were ignorant what had become of the detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately followed up a false scent. Bets increased, nevertheless, in number and value. Phileas Fogg, like a racehorse, was drawing near his last turning-point. The bonds were quoted, no longer at a hundred below par, but at twenty, at ten, and at five; and paralytic old Lord Albemarle bet even in his favour.
A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neighbouring streets on Saturday evening; it seemed like a multitude of brokers permanently established around the Reform Club. Circulation was impeded, and everywhere disputes, discussions, and financial transactions were going on. The police had great difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and as the hour when Phileas Fogg was due approached, the excitement rose to its highest pitch.
The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met in the great saloon of the club. John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, the bankers, Andrew Stuart, the engineer, Gauthier Ralph, the director of the Bank of England, and Thomas Flanagan, the brewer, one and all waited anxiously.
When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, Andrew Stuart got up, saying, “Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the time agreed upon between Mr. Fogg and ourselves will have expired.”
“What time did the last train arrive from Liverpool?” asked Thomas Flanagan.
“At twenty-three minutes past seven,” replied Gauthier Ralph; “and the next does not arrive till ten minutes after twelve.”
“Well, gentlemen,” resumed Andrew Stuart, “if Phileas Fogg had come in the 7:23 train, he would have got here by this time. We can, therefore, regard the bet as won.”
“Wait; don’t let us be too hasty,” replied Samuel Fallentin. “You know that Mr. Fogg is very eccentric. His punctuality is well known; he never arrives too soon, or too late; and I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at the last minute.”
“Why,” said Andrew Stuart nervously, “if I should see him, I should not believe it was he.”
“The fact is,” resumed Thomas Flanagan, “Mr. Fogg’s project was absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality, he could not prevent the delays which were certain to occur; and a delay of only two or three days would be fatal to his tour.”
“Observe, too,” added John Sullivan, “that we have received no intelligence from him, though there are telegraphic lines all along his route.”
“He has lost, gentleman,” said Andrew Stuart, “he has a hundred times lost! You know, besides, that the ‘China’—the only steamer he could have taken from New York to get here in time arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of the passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them. Even if we admit that fortune has favoured him, he can scarcely have reached America. I think he will be at least twenty days behind-hand, and that Lord Albemarle will lose a cool five thousand.”
“It is clear,” replied Gauthier Ralph; “and we have nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg’s cheque at Barings to-morrow.”
At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty minutes to nine.
“Five minutes more,” said Andrew Stuart.
The five gentlemen looked at each other. Their anxiety was becoming intense; but, not wishing to betray it, they readily assented to Mr. Fallentin’s proposal of a rubber.
“I wouldn’t give up my four thousand of the bet,” said Andrew Stuart, as he took his seat, “for three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine.”
The clock indicated eighteen minutes to nine.
The players took up their cards, but could not keep their eyes off the clock. Certainly, however secure they felt, minutes had never seemed so long to them!
“Seventeen minutes to nine,” said Thomas Flanagan, as he cut the cards which Ralph handed to him.
Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was perfectly quiet; but the murmurs of the crowd outside were heard, with now and then a shrill cry. The pendulum beat the seconds, which each player eagerly counted, as he listened, with mathematical regularity.
“Sixteen minutes to nine!” said John Sullivan, in a voice which betrayed his emotion.
One minute more, and the wager would be won. Andrew Stuart and his partners suspended their game. They left their cards, and counted the seconds.
At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing.
At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, followed by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls.
The players rose from their seats.
At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened; and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg appeared, followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club doors, and in his calm voice, said, “Here I am, gentlemen!”
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x [What do you think that Taissa ultimately wants for her life right now? She’s got her family that almost seems irretrievably broken, but now V.an is back in the picture. What do you think she ultimately wants to be happy and to feel fulfilled?] "As impossible as it is or would be, I definitely think Taissa wants to go back in time to before she ran for Senate and just have her happy life and her perfect family, and that’s all she wants. God, if she could just go back a few weeks and do it all over, she’d do it so differently. She wants Simone and Sammy. Not because they’re her family and she loves them, mind you, because everything she does comes to a selfish place. She wants that because that was perfect. It looked perfect. It was perfect. She was normal, and that’s what she wants."
[And what about V.an? Can having her in her life coexist with this family picture?] "Well, V.an, as we’ve seen in her youth, is the only one that ever, that we know of, who talked to the Other Tai. So in Tai's selfishness, she inserts herself back into V.an’s life in an effort to try and get rid of this Other Tai. V.an is her immediate future because she’s the one that’s going to help Tai get through this so that she can go back to her family. It’s all very selfish. She’s going back to her childhood love to have that love fix her life so that she can go back to her perfect life in Jersey City with her wife and son. It’s a horrible way to be, but V.an is the key for her. And she’s willing to do anything that V.an tells her to do."
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Hiraeth by cherrywhiskey
Beautiful, mesmerizing, heart-breaking, and restoring. This last chapter was absolutely perfect. It was human - which is often the hardest thing to capture. Loved it!
❤️🥰 Prepare to have MANY feels!
Quotes:
"Pleasant weather, isn't it?"
"Mn."
Well, okay. He admits his opening wasn't exactly what you'd call inviting but it deserved something more than a sound that can't even distinctly be considered a yes or no. He needs a conversation, something to occupy his mind with so his nerves won't be all over the place. The tension in the car is too thick and electrifying and without something to focus on, he's pretty sure he'll vibrate out of his skin.
"Do you remember me from school, Lan Wangji?"
This time, Lan Wangji turns to fix him with an unreadable glance before his gaze sweeps back to the road. Something flickers in his eyes in that fraction of a moment but extinguishes quickly.
"I do," he says, a bit too soft.
————
And then, there are times when Lan Zhan does things that make Wei Ying feel... some sort of way.
Like the time they had met on Lan Zhan's request and Wei Ying had whined about a headache. The man had refused to listen to reason and given him a massage before gently laying him in bed and ordering him to sleep. Wei Ying, too tired to argue had given in and then woken up feeling unreasonably chirpy.
Or the time he had brought him red bean steamed buns from the local shop that Wei Ying had once raved about in passing, among a hoard of his usual rambles, never meant to be remembered. He had handed him the box with a simple, "I happened to be in the same area," completely unaware of its recipient's surprise.
Wei Ying had blown him about it.
He had also refused to share the buns with anyone, gobbling them all down to the last morsel all by himself.
Lan Zhan is a thoughtful man. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. While Wei Ying does realize this isn't the sort of thing friends with negotiated favors should indulge in, he believes it's harmless. In fact, it isn't worth overthinking.
————
Lan Zhan never really acknowledged it as a crush but he always wanted to get to know more about the boy who saved that rabbit. He wanted to be his friend.
But Wei Ying was always a bit of a whirlwind, too fleet-footed for him to catch up with. Too much life in him for Lan Zhan to be able to grasp into his tiny hands. Too bright to look at.
And by the time Lan Zhan learned how to make friends – or rather, how to let people be his friend – there was already a demarcation between them. And Wei Ying was on the other side of it, too out of reach for him.
Perhaps if he had been a little more welcoming, they could have crossed that boundary.
Or in high school, instead of getting angry every time Wei Ying tried to get a rise out of him, if he had simply exerted more control over his thundering heart and been a bit more easygoing, they could have at least become friends.
But high school came to an end too soon and reality finally set in. They were no longer children. He knew Wei Ying was going to pursue engineering. He was ambitious for all that he was going to learn, all the difference he was going to make in the world. Lan Zhan didn't doubt it for one bit, Wei Ying was too brilliant a star to not shine. But this change also made Lan Zhan come face to face with his own reality. He had his own little dreams, not as ambitious but equally precious to him.
Wei Ying and he were on too different orbits to ever intersect and so, he had allowed himself to accept that maybe, an untold story with no beginning was all they were ever going to be.
E, 156k
Summary:
Hiraeth (Welsh): A deep homesickness; an intense, irrational longing for something irretrievably lost.
"And what becomes of us? The likes of me?"
Lan Zhan shrugs. "They just have to be loved till they learn to believe," he says, looking straight into Wei Ying's eyes, as if it's only the most blatant truth, as if he has no reason to avert his eyes, as if it really is just that simple.
"The likes of you."
The Jiang Tech CEO falls into an arrangement of mutual bedroom favours with his so-called nemesis, the second Lan heir, assuming the odds against them are high enough for complications like feelings to never rear their head. It takes a particularly wretched intervention for him to realize just how naive he had been.
OR: same old falling in love, losing it and getting back together.
@cheerywhiskey
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Lyric interpretation #2: In another world we fly away
So I also want to write something about what appears to be an eternal and recurrent theme in Noel’s songwriting. That is, the desire to run away. However, in my own opinion, it has different meanings in Oasis era and in NGHFB era. I’ll try to explain why I think it’s different and focus mainly on its meaning in NGHFB songs.
Disclaimer: It's just my own interpretation. I can’t prove any of that, because it’s just all about how these songs make me feel. But it makes sense to me, and I do believe every word I’ve written. And I’d like to share some of my thoughts here!
Noel has written a lot of songs about wanting to run away in the early days of Oasis. In fact, as I recall, he said in an interview that Definitely Maybe was about escaping and having a good time (of course he also said that it was just about life, about everything and nothing).
Here are some typical examples.
Rockin’ Chair
I'm older than I wish to be
This town holds no more for me
All my life I try to find another way
Half the World Away
I would like to leave this city
This old town don't smell too pretty and
I can feel the warning signs
Running around my mind
D’Yer Wanna Be A Spaceman
D'yer wanna be a spaceman and live in the sky
You got how many bills to pay and how many kids
And you forgot about the things that we did
The town where we're living has made you a man
And all of your dreams are washed in the sand
Take Me Away
’Cause me and my soul we know where we're goin’
We're goin’ where the grass is green
The air is clean and the good times are growin’
Slide Away
Now that you’re mine
We’ll find a way of chasing the sun
Let me be the one that shines with you
There are just too many. You can sense this kind of vibe in pretty much every song from Oasis’s early days -- if it’s not already explicitly written. And it’s always about running away from the small town, escaping their dull and boring daily life, breaking all the restrictions and regulations the world tried to force on them, trying to find a better way of living their lives, wanting to be free, to chase the sun and to achieve something incredible.
It was to be expected of a working-class lad from Manchester, who had nothing but music and a dream, to write all these songs about running away. And as Oasis grew bigger and bigger and eventually became one of the greatest bands in the world, this particular theme also seemed to have become less obvious and less frequent in their songs (that’s just my point of view and I just started listening to Oasis about four months ago so please correct me if I make any mistakes here).
But when I also start listening to NGHFB songs, it appears to me that this theme, this I-just-wanna-run-away vibe is all coming back. But this time it becomes sad and even somehow pessimistic. It’s about a dream that’s been and gone, a dream he used to share with someone he’s no longer with, and the only possible way for the dream to come true is to escape this reality and run away to another world.
At some point, he (as in the narrator) tried to find a way to fix everything:
Dead In the Water
So don’t walk away love
There’s never enough that could make me crash on the broken glass
Let the storm rage, I’d die on the waves
But I will not rest while love lies dead in the water
But the situation is already irretrievable, because the conflict between this dream and the reality is irreconcilable. It’s quite obvious in AKA… Broken Arrow, which contains lyrics such as:
If I die in a dream, then let me live my life
And
She died in a dream, so I could live my life
Remember like in the movies, if you want to wake up to the reality, then you need to die in the dreams? I think that’s what these lyrics are about. He (as in the narrator) has to give up the dream and a certain person to carry on with his real life.
But sometimes he would also think to himself: what if things could be different?
For example, what if they manage to escape from whatever or whoever can ruin them?
The Death Of You And Me
Let’s run away to sea
Forever we’ll be free
Free to spend our whole lives
Running
From people who will be
The death of you and me
Or what if there’s another reality, where the dream can actually come true?
If I Had A Gun...
If I had a gun I'd shoot a hole into the sun
And love would burn this city down for you
If I had the time I'd stop the world and make you mine
And every day would stay the same with you
I'll give you back a dream
And show you now what might have been
If all the tears you cry would fade away
First four lines of the lyrics describes some unrealistic scenarios -- “shoot a hole into the sun” and “stop the world”, and only then it’ll be possible for “me” to “make you mine” and “give you back a dream”. It shows that on one hand, he wishes there’s another reality; on the other hand, he knows better than anyone that could never happen. Such conflict creates a strong sense of sadness in many NGHFB songs.
I think the most obvious one is probably Wandering Star. I mean, if you really look at the lyrics:
All of the dreams you have, I have them too
And all of the songs I sing, I wrote for you
We can see that this person he’s addressing to is really special and important to him. They share the same dreams, and all his songs are about that person.
But ever since they were apart from each other:
All of the hopes I feel hang by a thread
All of the words I’ve got get left unsaid
All of my memories, they fade to grey
But there’s nothing he can do about it, and at the end of the day, all he has is his own imagination about a different reality:
In another dream I catch you falling from the sky
In another world we fly away
On the kingdom come I’m waiting for the sun to rise
On another sea we’ll sail away
The line “On the kingdom come I’m waiting for the sun to rise” is also a contrary to the final bit of The Death Of You And Me:
I’m watching my TV, or is it watching me?
I see another new day dawning
It’s rising over me with my mortality
In the reality where he’s not with that person, the rising sun only reminds him of death.
As for who that person could be, let’s just leave it up to interpretation :)
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Just some thoughts:
The dilemma, as I put it when I spoke to my therapist on Wednesday, is that I am so so tired of trying to fix and love and care for Alex as she is now. That there's this deeply ingrained belief that it's (I'm) not worth it and I'm irretrievably beyond having the chance of being happy with myself.
That no matter what, the bad things that happened to me and the way they marked me are never going away, not really, and I can't start from zero. There is no getting a second chance to do everything right (and is that even a fair thing to wish for? Nearly nothing of what happened to me was my fault). I have one life, no do overs, and it strikes me as incredibly unfair that only now when I'm 28, is when I'm starting to get the sense that it wasn't supposed to be like this.
No, Alex. It's not this miserable for everyone else (though sadly, it is for a lot of them).
I said to my therapist: "I'm not like this on purpose"
In manhwa, there's a very common trope. The villainess in a romance goes back in time. When you read through, it's clear these girls had a whole story of their own, and were set up to fail from the start. It's a constant race to avoid their literary fate, or to achieve revenge against those who set them up. When the "good girl" goes back in time, it's the same thing; usually a girl that dies after being bullied and used by those she trusted, armed with this knowledge now makes different choices, this time around. Sets boundaries, defends herself.
The reason I like the time travel fix it trope is that it soothes the need for this one thing I'll never have. It quenches my desire to say (all the time) "had I known back then, things would be different". The impossible wish that if I had at least known this much back then, I wouldn't have suffered so much, nor believed I was worthless, selfish, ungrateful, or any of the other awful words I was constantly given. Maybe, even if I'd gone again through everything while knowing what I know now, I wouldn't have been so hurt. I would have known it wasn't my fault, and I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve any of the violence. Not any of the hits, beltings and slaps, or the pulling of the hair. Not any of the neglect or verbal abuse.
Somewhere, I'm supposed to find strength in the fact that I was set up to fail and still survived, and mourn the fact that with the proper emotional intelligence, love, and support, I could have lived so much better. Find meaning in my life and eventual death as beautiful things that were worth of existence, despite the rocky path. To know all of this and still have to choose actively, every day, not to die. It's exhausting.
At 28, I feel both incredibly old, yet like a newborn.
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How to find a reliable repair company and what to look for
You want an expert who can fix your Smartphone and make it work like new when it breaks or stops functioning correctly. Iphone Back Glass Repair Dubai, many online and offline places promise to repair mobile devices, but determining whether or not they are up to the task can take time and effort. Some things to consider before choosing a mobile repair business are listed below.
Experience
When evaluating the level of expertise a service provider provides, this is the primary and most essential consideration to consider. Checking the age of a mobile repair store or company is necessary before hiring them; ideally, they should have been in business for at least five years.
Repair Guarantee
Repair shops specializing in smart phones and other mobile devices typically offer warranties on the components and labour they use. This is how they show their customers they stand behind the quality of their services. It’s a sign of professionally done Iphone Screen Replacement Dubai. If you encounter the same issue again, you can get free replacement components and labour thanks to the warranty. Some providers now provide an entire year of protection.
How fast work is done
Dependence on a gadget has become increasingly normalized in modern society. With a Smartphone, it will be easier to cope with the circumstance. Checking the estimated time, the smartphone repair company will take to fix your phone is always a good plan. Knowing how long you must deal with it will be a huge aid.
Verify the qualifications
If you are looking for a provider of Computer Repair Dubai services, one of the most important things you can do is make sure that the business you choose and the technicians working for it are qualified and authorized to perform the necessary tasks. It is always preferable to hire someone with more experience in this industry instead of someone who has yet to gain experience in it. Taking these steps will make the selection that much simpler for you.
Backing Up and Recovering Data
For example, you risk losing precious information in the event of a system failure or malware. Professional computer techs can often Data Recovery Dubai by tracking down information even if you can’t. Since this is a delicate matter, you should hire only the best possible service. Hiring a business solely based on its price could result in the irretrievable loss of crucial data and could even render the services of a skilled technician useless.
Conclusion
Take your time when looking for companies that offer services to restore mobile devices. Whether you need repairs done on your tablet, your Ipad Repair, or your cell phone, you will want to look for a service provider to place your confidence in. To ensure that you are getting the best possible bargain, it is important to compare the prices of the services, the amount of time it takes to complete the work, and the kind of warranty offered.
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY IAIN 🌹
And that's 60 years! You start to get old, but you do it so well... // 24 June 2021
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These are the Fics that I recommend and love for Chris Evans and his Characters. Divider by @firefly-graphics
Chris Evans:
Followed by @time-for-a-lullaby – Mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader
Summary: Chris sends you out with your best friend to do a little shopping while he handles business. On the way home you notice you’re being followed.
Desperate Affairs by @georgiapeach30513 – Multiple Chris Evans Characters x Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: Engaged to Andy Barber, and deeming him too safe, and only wanting to be intimate to get you pregnant, you start a sex only relationship with Ransom Drysdale. Nothing is ever easy, and you get yourself into a web of lies. Are you the only one lying? (Includes NSFW)
First Man by @toastedkiwi – Chris Evans x Daughter!Reader, Harry Styles x Popstar!Reader
Summary: You debut a song on stage at the AMAs.
Fading Spark by @alisonsfics – Chris Evans x Wife!Reader
Summary: Chris and the reader are slowly beginning to lose their spark in their relationship and become more distant as time goes on. (Includes NSFW)
Futile by @rocketrhap3000 – Chris Evans x Reader
Series Summary: You grew up next door to the Evans Family, but what you didn’t know is that reuniting with Chris after a few years would spark an unbelievable attraction towards him. (i.e. another typical age gap fic) (Includes NSFW)
Well Shit by @falcqns – Chris Evans x Reader
Request Summary: Chris and the reader had a stressful day so to calm down they have some much-needed alone time. Only one of their children walks in. (Includes NSFW)
What a Time… by @time-for-a-lullaby – Chris Evans x Actress!Reader
Summary: You and Chris dated for a few years during your time with the MCU. Sometimes things just don’t work out. You reunite at the Endgame premiere afterparty and spend the night reminiscing the good and the bad of your relationship.
Gentleman – by @lexiawrittings – Chris Evans x Reader
Summary: After an amazing and incredible one-night stand with the most handsome actor on the planet, you find yourself in a humiliating situation. Little did you know that Chris Evans is the kindest person ever. A grown man, who is a true gentleman. (Includes NSFW)
End of an Era by @celebtattletale – Chris Evans x Little Mix!Reader
Summary: Y/N Evans seen being comforted by husband Chris after Little Mix announce break.
Boston by @secretswiftymarvelfan – Chris Evans x Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: On a girls trip, boys are off limits. However, when a kind stranger gives you a helping hand you can’t help but break the rules (Includes NSFW)
Set Up by @time-for-a-lullaby – Chris Evans X Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: You’re close friends with Lizzie Olsen, she invites you to her birthday party where its pretty clear her and Scott are intending to set you and Chris up.
Fixing the Broken by @maemelany – Chris Evans x Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: People say time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worse.
You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.
Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken? (Includes some NSFW)
Steve Rogers:
Slow Like Honey by @heli0s-writes – Steve Rogers x Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: The gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet. Sensitive divorcé Steve Rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact. (Includes NSFW)
Love is Not Forced by @just-dreaming-marvel – Royal AU (Complete)
Series Summary: Y/N was never meant to be royalty. She always knew that. But when her village was destroyed one night when she was young, King Anthony Stark took her and her brother, Peter, in. Years later, she learns, that as Princess of Alexandria, she must marry a royal from another kingdom. Y/N is not happy with that, nor does she make it easy for her suitors, Prince Thor, Prince Loki, King T’Challa, and King Steven Rogers. Where will her heart fall? Where should it? Or will be torn between doing what’s best for her kingdom and the man she loves?
Reckless by @kinanabinks – Widower!Steve Rogers x Divorced!Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: Two hearts in pain, recklessly finding comfort in each other with no care for the pain they themselves are the authors of. (Includes NSFW)
By @fluffycutecevans – Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve and the reader are in love, being friends since they were younger, after prom they started dating. When they got to University two people tried to pull them apart =, making them question everything. (Includes NSFW)
Coward by @lovelyavengers – Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (Complete)
Summary: A time travel incident strikes the Avengers Compound when Peggy Carter seemingly walks right out of the past, married and definitely not expecting to see Steve alive. In order to show her that he has in fact moved on, Steve enlists the help of his best friend to pretend to be his wife until Tony can send everyone home.
Unwelcome Partnership by @lovelyavengers – Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Summary: It was just your luck to run into your least favourite avenger on a mission, and its especially awkward because he’s the one who kicked you off the team. Having to work with him to complete the objective is just insult to injury.
Always and Forever by @vanillanaps – Brother’s Bestfriend!Steve x Wilson!Reader (Series of Oneshots and Drabbles)
Series Summary: Adopted at the young age of 9, Paul and Darlene Wilson took you in. You quickly became close with Sam and Sarah, becoming the sibling they’ve always wanted. Growing up being the same age as Sam meaning his friends became your friends. But you took an extra liking to Steve. Crushing on him throughout your childhood. Now, your 18, in college and well – still crushing on him.
Always you by @fangirlovestuff – Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: You’ve met Steve and Bucky in middle school. Now, at Bucky’s wedding, some important information is revealed, and some important realisations are made in its wake. Steve was your first crush; Bucky was your first boyfriend. You three have stayed friends through it all, but now, when your best-friend-with-benefits Steve asks for your help, will the dynamic shift? (alludes to smut)
Nightmare Barns and My Girl by @jadedvibes – Neighbour!Steve x Reader
Nightmare Barns Summary: You take up your neighbour’s offer to do laundry at his place and end up with a great friend to go to the haunted pumpkin patch with. Tons of adrenaline, a crappy run-in with an ex, and pumpkins lead to confessed feelings and fluffy times.
My Girl Summary: A quiet night of baking with your new boyfriend turns into something extra steamy when he finally gives you what you want for the first time. (Includes NSFW)
The good are never easy, the easy are never good by @fairyevans – King!Steve x Fem!Reader
Summary: The king and the reader start an affair. (Includes NSFW)
Misunderstanding by @marvel-stufff – Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: You are undeniably in love with the infamous Captain America, and he feels the same. What happened when he overhears a conversation and confronts you? Will it ruin your relationship or is it all a big misunderstanding?
Used to Be Overlooked by @justkending – Steve Rogers x Reader (Rosalyn Embers / Y/N?) (Complete)
Series Summary: After a rough mission, Steve likes to decompress with a walk around his home town when he can. But after saving a beautiful dame from a near death experience, he can’t seem to get her off his mind. Something about her was familiar. After some intensive research, he learns the truth about her that leaves him and some of his co-workers in shock. Who is she? How does he know her? And was it even from this decade?
Flustered by @fqjth – Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Knowing Steve her whole life, y/n is shocked to see his transformation after taking the super solider serum. (Includes NSFW)
If Only You Knew by @kayteewritessteve – Steve Rogers x Reader Modern AU (Complete)
Series Summary: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day would come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friends and secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened that horrible night . who would have known that your prom night would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? You certainly didn’t, that’s for sure. (Very Mature Themes)
Andy Barber:
Our Family by @labella420 – Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: Your wedding day is full of surprises!
A Different Kind of Love Verse by @river-soul – Andy Barber x Fem!Reader x Jake Jensen
Summary: A universe where you eventually bond with both an Alpha and a Beta. (A/B/O Dynamic, Includes NSFW)
Under the Suit by @simplystevies – Ex’s Dad!Andy Barber x Intern!Reader
Summary: You knew it was wrong.. but you always fantasised about what was under his suit (Includes NSFW)
Stay by @geminixevans-stan – Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: Each want out… but at what cost? (Includes NSFW)
Help You Though by @jbreenr – Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: You were nervous about introducing your boyfriend to your parents. Well… actually, the other way around.
Pick Me and Beautiful Stranger by @dbnightingale24 – Andy Barber x Reader
Pick Me Summary: You’ve always done your best to make your family proud and avoid drama with men. However, Andy comes into your life and turns your world upside down. What happens when sin is too tempting to resist? (Includes NSFW)
Beautiful Stranger Summary: You old yourself that the choice you made was the best possible choice. So why does doing the right thing hurt so much ? (Includes NSFW)
Endings, Beginnings by @0mrs-evans0 – Ex-Husband!Andy Barber x Ex-Wife!Reader
Summary: Your Mum sets you and your Ex-Husband up.
Hey Mom by @spiritualchange – Andy Barber x Wife!Reader
Summary: Laurie can’t get around what her son calls his new stepmom.
Holy Ground by @buckyownsmylife – Andy Barber x Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he is not ready to give up.
A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why couldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than once. (Includes NSFW)
Mr. Barber’s Assistant by @breezymichelle99 – Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: After Jacob’s trial everything had changed for Andy Barber. He lost his wife, almost lost his job and his son. Nothing seemed right in his life. Nothing but YOU. (Includes NSFW)
Ransom Drysdale:
Royal Love – by @fluffycutecevans – Prince!Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader (Medieval Royal Au)
Summary: Being the future Kings personal attendant is a hard task. But at least you get along with the Prince. How close will you get?
When We Were Young by @likeahorribledream – Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Summary: You and Ransom used to be best friends, then something changed, and you weren’t good enough for him anymore. You finally see him almost 10 years after you graduated high school and you come to learn that things weren’t as they seem.
Girls Night by @ilovefandoms102 – Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader
Summary: Making Ransom jealous backfires… (Includes NSFW)
Phone Sex by @nellblazer – Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Summary: Visiting your grandfather in prison, you spot a lonely inmate and strike up a pen pal relationship. (Includes NSFW)
Daddy Issues by @buckyownsmylife – Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Completed)
Series Summary: The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before seeping with a complete stranger.
When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to be a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child. (Includes NSFW)
Roi de Coeur by @sylvie-writes – Prince!Ransom Drysdale x Villager!Reader (Complete)
Series Summary: One fateful day, Prince Ransom, under the order of his mother, comes to visit your village where the lower class resides. For years, your people have protested that the village and its residents are becoming forgotten. Going to hear their pleas once more, Prince Ransom meets (y/n), a young, and very opinionated woman. Looking to finally listen to the cries of despair, the Prince enlists her help, as she represents her people in front of the nobility. Over time will her anger for the prince grow, or will it blossom into something more?
Jake Jensen:
My best Friend, Jensen by @drabblewithfrannybarnes – Jake Jensen x Female Best Friend Reader (Main Series Completed, One Shots Ongoing)
Series Summary: You and Jensen have been best friends since you were kids; growing up together in a sleepy town in New Hampshire. When Jensen entered the armed forces it was only a matter of time before you followed.
Years later, after The Losers’ narrowly escaped death, you’ve joined the team while they take on contracted missions, making their way around the world as they continue their search for Max.
It is on one of these missions that your realise that you might kinda, sorta be falling for your best friend. But could he possibly feel the same way? Or would one drunken night ruin your friendship forever?
Under Pressure by @beefybuckrrito – Jake Jensen x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s all fun and games until the wrong song comes on at karaoke night. (Includes NSFW)
Baby Boy by @starryevermore – Omega!Jake Jensen x Alpha Fem!Reader
Summary: All you want is to make your omega happy.
Curtis Everett:
Yours to Keep by@the-iceni-bitch – Curtis Everett x Fem!Reader
Summary: Curtis has been fond of you for a while, but he doesn’t think he deserves you. (Includes NSFW)
Ties That Bind, Debts That Burden by @mypoisonedvine – Curtis Everett x Reader
Summary: you didn’t expect the man who bought you to be so kind. You didn’t expect to fall for him, either. (Includes NSFW)
Miscellaneous:
Changes by @labella420 – Colin Shea x Female Reader (What's Your Number)
Summary: Colin asks you a really important question.
The Man You Knew by @starryevermore – Frank Adler x Fem!Reader, Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Summary: Frank doesn’t realize he lost something good until it was too late, and Andy isn’t the kind of man to give you up.
After We Met by @fluffycutecevans – Nick Vaughan x Reader
Summary: An old flame threatens your relationship with Nick.
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The Keeper of Hearts | l.e
lily evans x fem!reader
requested by two anons — req. 1 sapphic lily and req. 2 using prompts ‘stop crying. why can’t i stop crying?’ + ‘i let you hurt me because i thought it would make you hurt less’
warnings; angst, mentions of drinking, swearing, fluff, she/her pronouns
word count; 2400+
Lily Evans. How can one describe her and do her true justice? Well, you couldn’t. There was no possible way for one to describe her with mere words and even come close to encompassing her beauty, her kindness, or her wonderful and vibrant personality.
To you, she was the sun peeking through the clouds, the breeze kissing your face at dawn, the moon shimmering on the water's surface at midnight, the gentle caress of your sheets in the morning, the rainbow after a storm. She was as she always has been — your unrequited love.
For years you’d kept this secret, hidden it within the secure walls of your heart. But when your heart beat, it beat for her. When it broke, it broke for her. And break it did; it shattered, leaving millions of fragments to fall to the ground to be blown away with the breeze and washed away by the rain. But over the months and years, you’d learned exactly where the fragments drifted away to, and how you could retrieve them. All you had to do was wait for her to smile again, wait for her to touch you again, and the broken pieces would reunite, forming your patched up heart.
But when it broke, there was always a piece that was lost for good — irretrievable. And the more it broke, the more pieces were left to be missing. It would only be a matter of time before your heart couldn’t fix what little remained.
With your most recent heartbreak, you weren’t sure that it would persevere — that you, as you knew yourself, would endure. Lily had just recently accepted James Potter as her boyfriend — after years of rejection and hostility, she finally gave in. Perhaps it was her plan all the while. But the more she rejected him, the more hope it gave you that your feelings were reciprocated. How torturous it was to watch her accept him as what you wished she would accept you. Yet every rejection James had earned from her, could not match the rejection you felt watching her walk away with him, hand in hand. Heart in heart.
“Stop crying,” you whispered to yourself in anger as you nursed an empty bottle of fire whiskey.
“Rejection is a bitch, I get it,” Sirius sighed, sitting beside you on the sofa and offering you another bottle.
“Shouldn’t you be taking it away, not giving me more?”
“Are you really that far gone that you’re seeing my beloved Remus right now?” he retorted.
“Piss off,” you smiled.
Black and his idiot jokes could always bring a smile to your face, no matter how much you wished they wouldn’t. And as soon as it came, it faded, as you thought back to the ethereal red-haired girl, frolicking around with James Potter. Why couldn’t it have been you? But, after all, you can’t help feelings, of that you knew something about.
“Ugh, why can’t I stop crying?” You asked out loud as your face distorted with excruciating suffering.
“Come on, Y/N, it won’t last forever,” Sirius consoled, rubbing your back.
“Doesn’t matter, not if it feels like forever, does it?” You bit back, standing up and leaving him behind without a bottle for company.
Of course it wouldn’t last forever, but it had already been two months and the pain wasn’t easing up thus far. In fact, it was only getting worse. It was seeping into your bloodstream, making every limb ache from the absence of her. Who was Sirius, who were you, to define forever? Is infinity simply infinity?
Lily had barely spoken to you since she began dating the infamous marauder. It was as if you’d dropped off the face of the Earth, when really, you were right in front of her. Right in front of the reciprocal glass that allowed you to see her, and Lily to see her own reflection. At times you began to wonder if she ever really saw you, or if you were always tinted by the shaded glass or a cracked image by the shards you’d smashed in frustration.
But Lily was never so shallow as to only see herself; perhaps she was just unwillingly in her own way.
Walking away from Sirius had led you past the Great Hall, but you were too scared to enter in case Lily and James were there, feeling and parading happiness you could never feel. You continued walking, unaware and uncaring of where it might lead you, as long as it was far and distracting. Into the night you were led by aimless purpose, through the halls of Hogwarts and out into the courtyard, still unable to stop your wandering. But you let yourself wander, for what bad could it do that hadn’t already been done?
---
Lily perked up, watching her former best friend walk past the Great Hall that evening, her head seemingly in outer space, and her face in despair. Seeing her look so hollow distressed Lily, knowing she was the cause of it and that there was something she could do to fix it.
She’d only just started dating James. He was safe, known and easy. Y/N was frightening and wild in a life that was already filled with fear and danger. But to deny herself true desire seemed rather selfish in a world where such love was rarely offered. To not grasp it firmly in her hand seemed as if she was cheating everyone else, cheating herself, cheating Y/N. Love should not be born by one single being, it was meant to be shared.
“James, I can’t do this,” Lily decided abruptly, fearing if she did not say it immediately, it might not come out at all.
James looked up, startled and confused at first. But his face slowly turned from confusion to an unreadable or unrecognisable expression. It looked like sympathy, rather than anger. Those doe eyes behind his wonky glasses simply stretched with a light smile as he nodded curtly.
“I know,” he replied, reaching out his hand and gently placing it on hers in a simple act of understanding.
James knew, more than he cared to admit. But he wasn’t angry, if anything he was happy for her. Maybe one day he would be lucky enough to be so fortunate. Lily smiled, grateful tears reaching her eyes, for she did love James. But she wasn’t in love with him. She was not the first, nor would she be the last, to mistake the two feelings linked so closely together, separated only by shameless desire.
Instead of reaching, clawing, running for the happiness she so craved, she stayed with James in the Great Hall. And it was James who asked about Y/N, James who let Lily talk so fondly of the one who’d captured her heart. He didn’t mind; it was nice to see Lily so happy — her eyes lit up in admiration he’d not seen before. And he knew Y/N had been melancholy since he and Lily had begun dating.
It would be a nice change to see her happy too, he thought.
---
Almost a week had gone by, and Lily had yet to speak to Y/N. Something was preventing her and she had no idea as to what. Every time she got close, she fumbled, her heart retreating back into its burrow where it only had itself for company.
She hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks. How could she approach her now as if nothing had changed, when really, everything had changed? She and James were together and then they weren’t. She had hidden her feelings for Y/N from her and herself, and then she hadn’t. But Y/N had yet to hear them, she had yet to have been told the truth.
How should Lily know if that was the truth she even wanted to hear anymore?
“What are you waiting for?” Sirius asked, pulling Lily from her own head.
“What?”
“Don’t use the innocent act with me, Evans. A guilty sinner can easily single another out,” Sirius winked.
“That was a bit rude,” Lily scoffed, intentionally failing to mention whether it was the truth. She did feel awfully guilty.
“Just tell her,” he said, nodding over to the girl walking past the Great Hall.
Lily thought about it, probably for a moment too long, but not everyone could gather their feelings and intentions together within seconds. But that didn’t mean they felt any less deeply. No, Lily loved her and she scolded herself for admitting it, potentially, too late.
She got up, nodded her head, and rushed after the person who’d stolen her heart.
“Y/N!” she called, before being met with her flawless features.
You turned around to Lily calling your name, the first time you’d heard it from her lips in weeks. She stood there, a little out of breath, her hair flaming and wild. The smile she wore seemed forced, but it was a smile in some sense.
“Yes?”
“Can I please talk to you?” Lily started, “I know I’ve done little to deserve it, but please?” She requested, so pitifully it almost caused you to wrap her in a hug.
“Yeah,” was all you managed to voice in reply. Apparently your head had overruled your heart. Or was it the other way around?
She nodded appreciatively, walking closer and falling in line with you. She didn’t talk for a while as you walked through the halls of Hogwarts, a place you’d learned to call home. Instead, she shot you the occasional glance before looking back to some scenery after you caught her.
You supposed if you had something important to say, you wouldn’t want to be rushed, so you fought through the awkward silence. It seemed to last quite a while, sticking to the air surrounding you, suffocating you.
“Alright,” she started out of nowhere, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you these last months. I got caught up- well, actually, that’s not entirely true,” Lily admitted, “I tried to drown myself in it so I could forget you. I thought- I thought you were just my best friend, and that James was more. But really, it was the other way around.”
You stopped walking.
Lily continued on, forcing herself to get the words out. She stood in front of you, her eyes closed and hands raised to her torso as if she was steadying herself.
“I’m not in love with James, I’m in love with you. It hurt so much to let you walk away, to grow away from you as if we were strangers. I was stupid and I never should have let it happen. But most of all, I’m sorry it hurt you too,” she explained, allowing herself to be so vulnerable in front of you.
Her name really was quite fitting in that moment. Though she never seemed fragile — she could hold her own and bite back as viciously as her greatest predator — in that moment, it felt as if one wrong move and she’d wilt like a flower exposed to winter greetings.
“I- I don’t know what to say, Lils,” you confessed.
“‘Lils’ seems like a good start,” she breathed.
“I was hurt, I am hurt. But I can’t say that I’m blameless, I let it happen too. I could blame you for not being more in touch with your feelings, but then that would be terribly hypocritical of me. It would have been easier if you really were in love with James,” you scoffed.
Lily stood there silently, knowing what you had to say was nothing but the truth. She couldn’t deny it, she could only atone. If you would grant her the opportunity. But whatever your decision, she wouldn’t blame you.
You sighed. “I forgive you,” you conceded, and Lily took a small breath of relief, “But if it hurt you to let me go, why did you? Why did you let me hate you?”
“I let you hurt me because I thought it would hurt you less. Once I’d done it, it felt like the damage was already done. And if I let you hate me, then maybe it would make you feel better, to get it out and move on,” she revealed.
You scoffed in sheer disbelief. “That’s-”
“No,” she interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut, “I know it sounds bad. I know it does. I just didn’t know what to do. I should’ve done, for both our sakes. And I don’t expect you to forget or forgive me just like that. But I need you to know that I’m so sorry and I love you,” she laughed, throwing her hands up in the air, “I love you,” she repeated, it coming out as more of a whimper the second time.
How wounded she was, and how wounded she had made you. Yet both of you knew the remedy lie within each other — the only obstacle in your way being the task of forgiveness. True forgiveness, not just words spoken in lies so you could let yourself forget.
You stood there, watching her façade break, watching the perfect smile she wore, the fake happiness she presented, fall away. Beneath it was human, beneath it was raw emotion that cradled her being. Knowing it had been tearing her up inside as much as it had been tearing you up only made it harder.
How could she have done it to both of you? But you couldn’t stay hateful, you just couldn’t. Admitting mistakes, admitting wrongdoings, to those you loved and admired was incredibly humbling, extremely difficult. You want them to see you like you’re the epitome of perfection. But they don’t, and that’s the best part, because they love you anyway.
No one loves true perfection — it’s not real.
“Oh Lily,” you shook your head, “What am I to do with you?”
She laughed, a small tear running down her cheek to her chin. As she shrugged, you caved and pulled her into you. Her warmth engulfed you and reminded you of what it was like to be loved by her. You’d never known that that’s what it was before, but you knew it then.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered between her sobs.
“Don’t worry about it now,” you consoled, rubbing her back, keeping her tight against your frame until she pulled back.
She looked deeply into your eyes, asking the question over and over again, almost desperately, without speaking a single world. And in answer, you cupped her jaw, moving in slowly. When your lips met, it was as if bit by bit, the world slowly crumbled around you. Everything faded away in the moment Lily was truly yours.
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Some of my favourite quotes from my beloved Jane Austen's most famous novel Pride and Prejudice.
"He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said."
- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
"There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well."
- Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
"A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment."
- Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice
"The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it;"
- Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
"loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable; that one false step involves her in endless ruin; that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful;"
- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
"how little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue."
- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
"He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal."
- Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I HAD begun."
- Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice
‘I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly.’
- Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice
"The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never felt before;Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the
expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable."
- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
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Hi, I've been reading through your posts and I was wondering where you stand on Luke and his interpretation of the Jedi beliefs/culture etc?
I gotta be honest, I haven't watched the OT that many times, I certainly haven't dived into it the way I've done with the Prequels, I have virtually wiped the ST from my memory and don't recognize it as part of the continuity I'm into - which is Lucas' only and whatever fits with Lucas', so OT+PT+TCW and whatever doesn't contradict those - and I have not examined the OT characters a whole lot, so I may not be the best person to ask.
If I had to try though... Here's an old ask where I said that I didn't believe Luke was ever meant to be understood as a 'gray' or rogue Jedi.
I also can't think of a single time in the OT where the old Order was criticized in any capacity (and in good faith) by any character. I can't even recall Vader saying to Luke that the Jedi were 'corrupt,' or 'bad' or whatever, even when he gripes about Obi-Wan. Can't recall Yoda and Obi-Wan saying anything of the sort to Luke, and I can't recall Luke arriving to that conclusion himself at any point, or voicing that in any way.
Luke embodies traits that the Jedi eminently valued, such a empathy, compassion, courage and craftiness, so he is absolutely a true Jedi in that sense.
He grew out of his headstrong "gonna rush into this thing and ask myself if it was a good idea only after getting my ass kicked" mindset just as Yoda urged him to, and just like we see Padawans and younglings be taught, so I don't see his disagreements with his teachers as proof that he was better than they were, or in opposition with them, but as the normal path of a Jedi student who has to question things and get a few harsh lessons from life before graduating to chill and wise Jedi Master.
As for the cultural aspect... I'm afraid Luke can't embody that. What the Jedi were as a society/culture before Order 66 is irretrievably lost, so Luke and his New Order (be it in Legends, Disney canon, or the secret good ST where he gets to be his real self) are necessarily different from it. Luke's Order can do just as much good and be just as fulfilling as the old One, and whatever changes in traditions and Codes don't have to mean any sort of rejection of what was before, but rather practical changes based on completely new circumstances.
So yeah, basically I see no indication in the OT that Luke stood apart from the other Jedi, or wanted to be better than they were, or perceived huge issues in who they were and was seeking to fix those, and I think that the ways he was significantly different from the PT Jedi wasn't about personal belief, but just the situation.
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new friends and new info || dsmp become human
word count: ~1,070
notes: howdy :] sorry for how fuckin late this was, i scrapped half of my plans for this chapter because i just couldn’t get them to work, so it’s shorter than i’m used to lmao. hopefully it’s alright! i didn’t proofread it too much so tell me to fix whatever i need to :D enjoy!
first // prev // next
taglist: @spider-shoes @pindl3
4:02am, November 12th
Ranboo laid on his back on the floor of the motel, staring blankly at the ceiling. He’d heard people talk about how quickly things could change, but he hadn’t known just how right they were until that night. He sat up, stifling a groan, and leaned against the wall of the room to look around. Two beds sat comfortably against the wall, and in them were his two new… friends, he supposed, Wilbur and Techno. Wilbur had told Ranboo that the three of them would talk more in the morning when he and Techno weren't half-asleep. Ranboo rubbed his hands together, bothered. He was anxious to be out of the motel as soon as possible. Ranboo didn’t like sitting around, especially since he knew he was considered a criminal now.
The android peered up at the bland-looking clock above the beds, listening to its gentle ticking. Only four in the morning, Ranboo frowned, laying back down on the carpet. It’s gonna be a long night.
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Ranboo was absently blowing a strand of “dyed” dirty-blond hair from his eyes when the other two awoke in the morning. The android had taken off his mask and glasses at some point during the night, and he was thankful for the privacy of the room keeping him safe. Ranboo watched as the curly-haired man blinked sleep from his eyes and glanced around the motel room.
“So it wasn’t a dream,” Wilbur yawned. He stretched as he sat up and looked at Ranboo sitting on the floor. “What are you doing down there?” He sounded amused, a look of confusion and entertainment painting his features.
“Uhh…” Ranboo glanced down and patted the carpet beneath him, making a popping noise with his mouth to fill the silence. “It was… comfortable?”
Wilbur grinned at the android, a small huff of laughter escaping his throat. “Okay then,” he said between chuckles. “I take it you’ve been awake all night then?” He threw the linens off himself and stood up. “I mean, machines don’t exactly have to sleep, I assume.”
Ranboo shook his head, tracing circles on the carpet. “Not really. I might have closed my eyes for a bit though,” he admitted.
Wilbur raised his eyebrows and nodded but kept quiet. A silence fell over the duo as the curly-haired man began to freshen himself up, and Ranboo laid back down on the carpet while he waited. At some point, Techno hauled himself out of bed as well, and soon the trio was awake and ready to start talking.
“Tell me what they looked like, show me some photos, do whatever you want,” Ranboo suggested as they all sat on the edges of the beds. “I just wanna make sure I know as much about them as possible before I start investigating or anything.”
“Well, the android was a short-ish brunet kid, blue eyes, a buncha commons stuff like that,” Techno joked as Wilbur pulled out his phone and presumably began scrolling through photos. “His model number was, uhh, TU880, if that means anything to you. I always wondered why dad chose that, of all things, but I guess the old man had his r-” he interrupted himself as he noticed Ranboo’s agitated expression. “Uhh, are you alright?” He asked hesitantly. “You don’t look too good over there.”
Ranboo shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness from it. TU880, TU880, where have I heard that before? He bit at his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. Think, Ranboo, think! You know this! Why can’t you remember? The deviant wracked his brain, searching for the answer, but no matter what he did, the memory was irretrievable. He let out a shaky breath, clutching the bedsheets as he attempted to ground himself. “I- I’m alright. Just… just a memory, is all.” Or lack thereof. “What else?”
The twins exchanged a worried look, and Ranboo silently begged for them to drop the topic. Fortunately for him, the older brothers seemed to be more concerned about their brother and his android than to a random deviant they’d picked up off the street. Wilbur held out his phone to show Ranboo a photo of who he guessed was TU880 and the younger brother.
The two were smiling, the human boy with curly hair like his big brother, but golden blond rather than chocolate brown. The android had long bangs that fell over his eyes and almost covered his LED. He had a wide grin on his face that made Ranboo’s heart leap as he stared at the picture. He wasn’t sure why, and if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know why. Taking a deep breath, Ranboo ran a scan on the photo.
Thomas Craft
Also called Tommy
Age: 17
Height: 6’1”
Tommy… Ranboo nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He wasn't sure if he would remember that when needed, but he didn't voice his concerns aloud.
TU880
Name: Tubbo
Serial#: 129 111 616
Created and Registered by: Phil Z. Craft
“Tommy and Tubbo, huh?” Ranboo asked, sitting back on the bed. “They seem like they’re close friends,” he noted, perhaps a little sadly.
Wilbur smiled fondly. “Oh yeah, they’re best friends,” he murmured. “It’d take a war to separate them, they’re so clingy.” His tone was teasing, and Techno and Ranboo both smiled at Wilbur. “I know they haven’t been gone long - it’s not even been a day yet, actually - but… I guess I miss them.” Wilbur tossed the phone aside. “Whatever you have to do, Ranboo, I want you to do it. We promised our dad we'd find them safely, and we can't let him down.”
Ranboo nodded solemnly at Wilbur but stayed silent. He pondered over his options in his head quietly.
X Ask for more information
O Leave motel and ask others
☐ Memory loss [UNLOCKED]
Δ [...]
Ranboo wrung his hands together, fidgeting. The two probably passed through here overnight, he guessed. Maybe someone in the area knew the duo’s whereabouts.
O Leave motel and ask others
“There’s a good chance they stayed here somewhere,” Ranboo muttered, half to himself. “It might not hurt to talk to some people around here, right? Someone had to have seen them at one point or another.”
“We could give it a shot,” Techno nodded, pushing a strand of hair from his eyes. “What d’you think, Wilbur? It can’t hurt, I guess.”
Wilbur stood up, and Techno and Ranboo quickly followed suit. “Why not? Let’s go.”
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