Tumgik
#now can the universe listen to my prayers again and give me an actual on screen interaction
astro-royale · 4 months
Text
How to “make it” when you live in a toxic environment
Tumblr media Tumblr media
‼️Disclaimer: This is my personal opinion based on what has helped me and is by no means professional advice. Please take what resonates according to your situation.
1. Drop your expectations. People who have shown you consistently that they don’t care will not change.You need to preserve as much energy as you can for yourself and your goals. Stop setting yourself up for disappointment. Yes, it’s sad. Do the shadow work and don’t tell people things YOU KNOW they will react negatively to.
2. Don’t expect people to be happy for you or support you. Move in silence. People’s subconscious fears will be projected onto you and your goals, why do you need those curses placed upon you when you have so much to deal with anyway.
3. Take what you can get. Accept whatever help you can receive that you know will have no repercussions. Sometimes people can help you with some things and not others.
4. Shift all your efforts towards being able to leave that environment. Do research on how you can expand your finances, and that may mean doing something out of your comfort zone such as creating a social media platform etc. Never compromise on your well being however.
5. You need to believe in yourself as much as you can, even if people won’t.
6. Take advantage of the free help and advice on the internet. Can’t afford something? Well you have time more than money at the moment so use it to research. That research can be used as an asset to help you now and maybe later it can be the reason you start a particular business or are inspired to help people.
7. BE SOLUTION ORIENTED. focusing on problems only creates more problems. You’re going to have to try over and over again in life. Focusing on what’s wrong all the time will not allow you to step outside of the box and see things from a detached point of view where you can actually see a solution.
8. Prayer. I cannot stress this enough. Prayer has caused miracles in my life. Rely on God/Universe whatever you resonate with as much as you can. Your connection to yourself and your higher power is something you always have access to and if you believe and have faith even in times of darkness your high vibration will cause the ripple effect you’re looking for and problems will be solved. I recommend praying and setting up an intention every morning and night.
9. Even if you’re in survival mode 90% of the time. That 10% you spend meditating and praying. Even a little 10 minute meditation, if you can do it and have that time to be in complete surrender and serenity it will still make a difference. It’s not about how much time is spent on something but rather the quality of that. Allow that 10 minutes to be sacred, profound.
10. Ask for all the help you can get from where you know you can. you may get turned down, life is about risks. But always keep going.
11. Create time if you don’t have it. Give something up in order to gain something else. You may need to compromise on something for the time being to be able to create a prominent change/shift in your life. But make sure it is something that won’t affect your health and well being. Example; less time watching tv, more time spent on cultivating faith
12. Be very consistent in your efforts. Consistency towards something is what creates that energetic momentum which will eventually lead to a manifestation.
13. Daily affirmations and listening to affirmations when you sleep is also a great method to reprogram your subconscious and set you up for success. Again, so many free resources out there you can use, you just have to consciously use your will power and pray to receive the strength you need so you can push through.
I’ve linked my energy healing playlist as well as another energy clearing I listen to. I will also be posting more energy healings , always listen with the intention to receive. You don’t even need to pay attention when listening to those.
The meditation I linked says “love meditation” but I’ve used it to manifest other things and I’ve received answer to my prayers immediately.
I hope this helps and I’m sending much love to everyone needing this.
youtube
youtube
185 notes · View notes
starrysamu · 2 years
Text
you’re just around the corner when you hear the crash. you pause for a second, and when you don’t hear any grunts or screams or wails or crying, you decide to continue strolling at your leisurely pace. 
it’s when you finally stand in front of the shop and peer your head in that you decide you should be the one screaming and wailing and crying and … perhaps, even grunting. 
“where’s your shirt?” you choke out. your saliva is thick and your knees are ready to give out on you any second now. 
“oh hey,” osamu says gruffly, shaking his hair out. 
he looks at you. you’ve forgotten how to breathe.
oh god, oh god, someone please call 911. please, someone, anyone, call a goddamn ambulance.
you tilt your head.
actually, should you pass out so he can give you CPR right at this instant?
you’re all about being resourceful, after all. you gotta make do with what you got, right?
“glad you could finally make it,” he continues, heaving a sigh and setting his hands at his hips. he takes a good look at the floor before looking back at you expectantly. 
you don’t dare meet his eyes. the corner of the ceiling looks rather interesting, doesn’t it? 
you wait for him to say something else, but you’re left writhing uncomfortably in the silence. 
(would he love you if you were a worm? because you sort of feel like an upright worm). 
“where’s your shirt, osamu?” 
“it’s like a million degrees outside and i just finished paneling the counter, no thanks to you.” 
“listen,” you rush out, “i didn’t decide to renovate the restaurant in the middle of summer and i set like five million alarms and none of them rang or something and anyways it’s not like you called to wake me up or anything - ”
you sneak a glance. it’s enough to blast you off of this universe. it might even be enough to send you into the next universe. would osamu be there too? would you get to live through this moment again?
maybe you should just be thankful instead - but by gods, you are not strong enough for this. you’re just not cut out for this work. your eyes trail to the ceiling again in a silent prayer. 
he rolls his lips between his teeth in amusement. 
“don’t you have any decency?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. he steps towards you and your body reacts instantly, the oxygen getting trapped in your trachea. 
he takes another step forwards and you slap your hands over your eyes. “my virgin eyes!” 
“are you slut shaming me?” 
this is too difficult. this is so hard. you can’t live like this. 
“i’m too weak,” you whisper dramatically. “god, i’m not your strongest soldier.” 
“would you have preferred god to send someone else?” 
you peek through your fingers to find him finally less than a foot away. 
“osamu,” you say breathlessly. you can’t handle anymore. you hold one hand out in front of you, the other clutching your stomach dramatically, “i’m about to faint. don’t step any closer.” 
he flicks your forehead. “you’re insufferable.” 
you peer at him through your eyelashes, flashing him a million-dollar grin. “you love me.” 
“i would love you even more if you help me finish painting the walls.”
224 notes · View notes
thestarsdiplomat · 1 month
Text
I can tell you that God and the devil sat down last night ... they showed up to hear 3 prayers ... 2 times they both present themselves. They were both listening , both made their presents known and both acknowledged.. The 1st prayer consisted of showing strength and kindness as well as knowledge . The 2nd prayer was made for everyone who needed help .. Prayed for my family, ME, my Angels and demons ( who prayers for thier demons ? Non the less they got prayer ) . Than helped someone in need just to get slapped in the face. Again offered advice that shouldn't have been offered but hey why not ... in those instances both GOD and Satan were told who I was . Didn't hide it ... I was Job in that lesson ... and a little bit of Jesus came out while I was giving advice .. but both of them understood. I can tell you that Neither of them believed me when I said who I was , but we met ALL in the same place , same time same surroundings , mind you I was Job and Satan was showing me how little my life was to him so of course it wasn't a pretty sight .. unfortunately I wasn't shown the same kindness that I show others actually my heart was broken 💔 purposely. By a man I respected , very successful man a Godly man ... so it was kinda like a slap in the face on both sides ... I can tell you that in my experience GOD and Satan can exist in the same relm together,, they do sit down and talk ... Both hear your cries , Both hear prayer 🙏.... they both will answer ... it's rare that they both answer the same prayer ... but when it happens it's because it's what NEEDS TO HAPPEN ... Both of them sat down with the universe and they ALL decided... this prayer needed to be answered .. it may not have been the answer I wanted but the answer was needed ... my last prayer was for bed time.. as you know I have been tested like Job for almost 3 years ... so of course we have free will and the right to choose , religion , who and how we worship , our spiritual job , our real job , our hobbies , our relationship, OUR life , we have our constitutional rights as humans . We have Freedom in the USA , and FREEDOM TO LIVE !! I can tell you that my rights have been deprived, and my life totally destroyed.. I mean this is shouldn't be allowed to happen to anyone like EVER .. and without actual justification. And honestly I see why the future spiritually is the way it is. So my prayer was for my nightmare to end , for the constant pain to stop, for the confusion to stop , for the abuse to stop , because a human can not constantly focus on spirituality alone. Human have to eat sleep go to work school and as for their spiritual job they make rules , regulations and boundaries and a human SPIRIT needs to be attached to that human vessel not without . Universal rules and regulations, time planes , relms ect.. so I prayed to take sickness away , I prayed to take confusion away , I prayed for Life , I prayed to have all this disrespect stop . And I mean come on . Do you really have to pray for the common sense? OBVIOUSLY RIGHT maybe GOD just isn't in the mood for helping ? Or maybe he isn't in the mood for common sense? And to be honest GOD and Satan are not respected anymore ... they aren't FEARED ... I can tell you I haven't lost my faith but sometimes I think that Satan would win in a fight just because of the lack of God's Presents, the lack of help , the lack of care , the lack of miracles , the lack of HELP .. because I use to think that God was All powerful and that one look from him would slaughter anything , but that miracles ... if anything miracles ... So I can tell you they both answered .. they both started moving, heaven and hell started to move ... I can tell you that hells gates are opened and armies are being deployed... I can tell you the first gate of heaven opened ... so again God hears my prayers... God bless America because I can tell you right now we aren't prepared for what's about to happen .
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
automatismoateo · 7 months
Text
My boyfriend(16M) is mad at me(17F) cause i told him i am not religious. via /r/atheism
My boyfriend(16M) is mad at me(17F) cause i told him i am not religious. I need some advice, I don’t want someone to tell me to become religious or to turn to god. I just need advice. Thanks. My boyfriend and I were having a discussion, I was watching something on YouTube where this guy had to break up with his girlfriend for the sake of his mom cause the girlfriend did not believe in god. So I asked him “do you think your family or someone you’re related to would be upset if I told them im not religious” he said “im not sure but probably” im like “oh okay. Well I don’t think it should matter if I am religious or not. I’m not religious so” and then he got upset, “why don’t you believe in god”, “I just don’t, overtime I have started to look into spirituality, and even when I was younger I didn’t really even think there was a god”, I said. “Well god is real I’ve seen him and angels are real” he said. “Okay cool, good for you but just cause you tell you’ve seen him or he’s answered your prayers doesn’t really prove he exists” I told him. Now he got really upset. He said, “that was very disrespectful. Why don’t you believe in god. He’s real”, I said “there’s no evidence of a higher power, maybe if I had some evidence to actually prove there is a higher power, then I will believe it. But I don’t think that there is ever gonna be evidence of a bald bearded man in the sky who seems like he grants wishes.” And yet again, he got mad and told me what I said was disrespectful. Yeah okay maybe it was, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna take it back. I don’t believe in god, I believe in spirituality. He eventually tried putting it all into me, “god created the universe blah blah” like okay but there is non-religious spirituality. I don’t believe there is proof of existence of a higher power, I told him that he can’t change what I believe nor can he be upset by what I believe, and vice versa. He still tells me that I should turn to god and god will fix me, but then I said “isn’t it bad for any religion to force their beliefs onto other people.” He told me that he’s not forcing me but he stills says that I need to open my eyes and pray for god to fix me. I have gotten feed back from Religious Reddit and they are pretty rude. I wanted a neutral advice but people are still telling me to just listen to my bf and become part of the religion i was born into. But I can’t, cause even with just the religious reddit, they seem like the type of people that gives me a good enough reason to not become religious Submitted September 20, 2023 at 08:22PM by Prudent_Sleep652 (From Reddit https://ift.tt/nMR9ljx)
0 notes
thatboybump · 1 year
Text
I find myself struggling more today for some reason. I'm not really sure why. I miss my fiancè. I miss my baby. And I'm starting to struggle with religion... again. My faith hasn't been this shaken for a while. Probably more so now than ever. I was raised with the word of God being drilled into me. I want to believe. I really do. I've seen proof, afterall. I've experienced things in my life that can only be described as holy encounters. Mostly it's the fear of Hell that keeps me believing. Just that what if, you know? What if God is real? There's ghosts, afterall. The bible says everyone will return and await Jesus' return. Some ghosts even claim holy and unholy apparitions themselves. Is that not proof? I have an angel baby. An ANGEL baby. I don't know if Heaven's real or not but I know me and my fiancè's baby is somewhere peaceful. But to say they're in Heaven, to call them an angel baby, all reflects a holy afterlife. Is that all the proof that I need? I've witnessed prayer work. Experienced miracles. History proved that Jesus did in fact exist. Scientists found the ark... right where the bible said it would be. Worshippers kept Jesus' blood. Why would they keep the holy relic if Jesus did not find a way to prove the holy afterlife? The universe was not created by a big bang. It's just not possible. Science is out of the picture. Asides, Science doesn't explain ghosts. It's not Hell's fire that scares me. No fire, no matter how hot, could make me suffer more than the mental, emotional and spiritual suffering I've endured and do endure. Especially when I know that fire can't kill me. I fear not being with my loved ones. I fear not meeting my baby. That's what I fear. So I want to believe, I really do. But how can I believe in something that doesn't seem to believe in me? If God is real, he has taken far more than he has given and I fucking hate it. I'm supposed to just believe... believe and Heaven will be bestowed upon me... that's what they say. But what is Heaven? The way Heaven is described doesn't make sense to me. If I gain Heaven, but my wife or children gain Hell, how am I supposed to be at peace? We're all supposed to just get along? Would anyone get along with Hitler if he was forgiven? And if our memories of Earth are wiped, what does everyone talk about? If this is Heaven, then the promised land doesn't sound so beautiful to me. It doesn't help that I've witnessed proof of other religions. Astrology seems to tell a story that seems mostly accurate, and astrology is a Greek religious belief. I've watched Mugin and Munin fly over me, hearing my name in a warrior like call as if Odin beckons it. Why did the Egyptians believe what they did in a time before Christ? What things did they see to give them their belief? Most of Christianity is actually Paganism and Jesus himself was a Jew.... all religions beg you to listen and join and.... WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE?! Do I just live life the best that I can and hope for the best? What if I am actually supposed to follow rules and in not doing so get denied meeting my child? What kind of God, in any religion, takes a child before they even have a chance at life? What lesson does that leave for the parents? THERE ISN'T ONE. All it is, is a glimpse of Hell at its finest. THERE'S NO FUCKING REASON FOR IT!!!!! Life shows us enough Hell as it... and whatever God is out there is just going to take away a child that could make life better?! I'm such a huge mental fucking mess right now.... I just want my wife to be. I just want my baby. Fuck everything else.... What the fuck even is life..... 😔
0 notes
conklin03 · 1 year
Text
back with a rant, it seems. apologies in advance if you decide to read this, it's barely comprehensible.
i've already failed the "make friends and find your place in the world" so the hope now is that i can actually be good at something so that i can feel like i actually deserve the space i am taking up in this world. it's really hard not to give up though. i see people i used to know living happy, normal lives, and all i can feel is jealousy. alas, if there are any gods listening, my prayers and crazed begs have not been answered. gods above, just writing this i feel so dumb. no self-respecting person writes "crazed begs". i used to have promise, and then i was broken, waiting for someone to fix me, not knowing how to fix myself. like a doll in an abandoned toy shop. but the thing is, i had, and have, the autonomy to fix myself, i'm just so scared, and it terrifies me to leave my illusion of comfort. the shop is warm, and it's a cold night. there are better dolls out there. i've no real use. at least i know what i desire out of life. i just want to make something that other people can look at and go "i like that". whether it's art, music, etc. but i have no idea where to start. and what if people judge me for it. there's so many possibilities, and i hate that about life. you're not supposed to consider every single possible situation, but i can't just not do that. does anyone truly find happiness in the knowledge they were born into this world? it's not like you can just pause life. you can't really just exit out either. this game doesn't save. if you quit, you're done, and all the other players you've met will miss you until they grow bored of the game as well, or eventually hit the limit for the trial. but who do i blame for my life? i can't just blame my parents. they didn't know this would be how it ended up. they tried their best, and i will forever appreciate them for that. it's not their fault i'm so dense. realistically, i should blame myself, but how much is actually my fault, and how much is the crushing weight of the universe doing it's work? you know, thinking on this, there's a reason i like souls games so much. i can be a force to be reckoned with. i can know no fear. i can face a threat with no worry for comfort, so that i can learn and face that threat again without a worry in the world. plus, they're just funny. i've been replaying through dark souls 2, and man the bearer of the curse would be terrifying from an enemy's perspective, especially with unga bunga builds (currently powerstancing a dark crypt blacksword with a dark sacred bell chime hammer and it's so funny to smash into things and do like 1600 damage in a hit). ugh, regardless, i hope one day i can come back and tell you all that i've carved a piece of the world out for myself. sorry for the rant.
0 notes
sehyix · 2 years
Text
June 14, 2022
You are at the beach and someone is talking to you about me to your left. You’re being dismissive and defensive, you don’t want to be convinced to give us a shot and come back to me. The ocean is refreshing and your new safe haven, you think, Why does my name keep getting brought up when you’re trying to escape me? Your childhood best friend looks up at you again as you frown, brows wrinkled and eyes thin. Your arms cross over your chest as Moon asks about me again and why you have been so eager to dismiss your dreams with me. The reflection of The Sun on the water is hitting your eyes behind your wet bangs, but you’re really just pretending you’re not listening to his case. You're hoping the sound of the ocean waves crashing against each other drown him out.
“What if this is The Universe showing you your soulmate?” Moon implores again, “so what if she’s engaged to someone else and you don’t know her in person? You think The Universe cares about those silly human things when it answers prayers?” You scoff, you too, also believe everything he is saying, but your fear isn’t having it. “You’re telling me I have suffered everything I have suffered in love to have me fall in love with the literal girl of my dreams?” you snarkily reply. You aren’t usually this nasty to anyone, but the panic is overwhelming.
You have felt yourself losing your mind over the past 18 months and want an end to it. It’s okay if you want this to be a fever dream you can forget, I can relate. Moon knows your cues and challenges your bluff. He knows you better than your fear does and he tries some more. “But You, when did you become such a close-minded coward?” he huffs, catching you off guard. “You’re telling me you’re uncomfortable being attracted to an international woman because she’s engaged? Didn’t you say in your dreams, you have both worked that out and are okay with it? Why is your waking mind any different? You know our souls are the ones that act and play out our dreams, not us. So obviously, you don’t actually have a problem with it, do you? You’re just pretending so you don't have to go out there and find her.”
You feel your chest about to explode. It’s not often that someone rips you apart, brick by brick, but if anyone can demolish your defenses, it's me and Moon, who's currently begging you to stop this nonsense. You know he knows you better than anyone in this world and is looking out for the real you, deep down, the one hidden behind your walls. You clear your throat because you have no good argument, crack your neck a bit and lock your jaw down. “-Can’t meet her,” you mumble angrily as your attention turns back to the waves you could be surfing on right now, if you weren’t having this insufferable conversation. It’s a stupid excuse and we all know it, even if I'm only watching this in 3rd person.
“Ho!” he rips back, “what, a common person? What is she? Like some 4 leaf clover or something? You, with all your resources, think you really cannot find this woman?!” Your ears are fifty shades of red and you grit your teeth and shut your eyes at his response. As you snap your head back to yell at him for calling you out on the infinite number of resources you know you can afford to find me, a person in the barrel catches your attention. Your friend is mumbling angrily to himself as your jaw drops open. That person is me, and I’m oblivious to what’s happening. He notices who you’re staring at and nods in amazement. “Damn, she’s good at surfing!” he exclaims and you feel like your heart is going to burst. “Oh shit, she’s amazing,” you think to yourself and the alarm blasts me awake. You don't dare tell him it's me.
Do you really think I don’t feel the same desperation and disbelief over this? Are you really dreaming about me and looking for me?
0 notes
alldrinkingaside · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
THIS 6 MINUTE READ IS WORTHY OF A 60 SECOND INTAKE.
Proceed from there. 14 Seeds are in your hand.
Explore.
Enjoy "A UNIVERSE OF RECOVERY VERSE."
*****
[In Alphabetical Order by Title]
“Addiction is godless, headless, insane…”
Addiction is godless, headless, insane.
It rejects faith, reason, feelings.
Addiction is heartless,
The blackest night.
No light. No sun. No stars.
In its nothingness,
We feel nothing
And accept that nothingness is acceptable
And true.
"Cunning. Baffling. Powerful."
*****
2. “Alcohol Replaced Me, Cell by Cell”
Alcohol replaced me, cell by cell.
Until none of me was left.
Or so it seemed.
My life,
A dream within a dream within a dream.
Merrily,
Then not so merrily,
Now merrily again.
Row, Row, Row your boat
Until you can no longer float.
That's how it went.
That's how it was.
But I have lived to tell the tale.
Adjust your sail.
Recovery will replace your fall from grace,
Cell by cell, alcohol will be displaced.
Pull up a chair. The table is set.
Welcome back to the Human Race.
*****
3. “Almost a Prayer”
All I have is now.
All I need is now.
All I am is now.
And that’s okay.
And that is good.
It’s understood:
The world is still and I am moved.
Now is a food and I am full.
*****
4. "Becoming Unbroken"
I am the shadow of the man
I once was
and he,
he is the shadow of me.
Together,
we are becoming unbroken
and clean and sober, I
am becoming me.
5. “The Drinking Life”
The Drinking Life
Evaporated me.
Each sip I took
Took some of me away.
Who could have guessed
One day I would be free?
I'm thankful for
This Sober Life today.
*****
6. "The Flow of Life"
The Flow of Alcohol is Beaten by
The Flow of Life.
(The River of Time is Slow & Deep)
*****
7. “Flying Rivers of Hope”
(Flying rivers, that's what some scientists call the massive clouds of moisture over the Amazon rain forest. They contain more water than the Amazon river below in all actuality, simply dispersed in the vapor trails we call clouds).
I live in the flying rivers of recovery,
not as noticeable as the flying monkeys
or the reptiles of the mind with snouts protruding
from the river of addiction below.
This cloud is hard to hold in your hand
or carry in your pocket,
but carry it with you.
Carry it with you.
Flying rivers,
let me live,
let me give and give back.
Flying rivers carry me,
carry me forward.
Flying rivers of hope,
fly me home.
*****
8. “Halfway to Nowhere and Another Drink”
There was a time when I was not there,
But I did not know it yet.
I would drink to forget,
Forgetting what I did not know.
Not yet.
I did not know yet.
Where was I then, when I was not there?
For years I lived somewhere between myself
And the next drink.
I would drink to forget what I could not think,
Halfway to nowhere and another drink.
I was grieving and I did not know it.
Someone was dying, but I could not feel it,
Feel my own dying.
I could not own it because it owned me.
Denial is so hard to feel,
Yet, there it is, standing next to you.
You: Halfway to nowhere and another drink.
*****
9. "Insanity’s Bouquet”
Insanity’s bouquet is not of different colored roses,
Or different flowers of various sorts.
It’s a bouquet of weapons, destruction, defense and offense,
All wrapped in lies and gin-soaked tears,
False laughter, hollowed-out bones.
This is insanity’s bouquet: Hot steel, cold steel, nothing.
I will fill the black holes of my memory with a retrained brain.
Live my way sober or lie my way drunk,
Powerless victim or sober victor. One foot
In front of the other.
*****
10. "A Silly, Happy, Little Poem"
We are the poorest among you.
We are the richest among you.
Whatever your yardstick or metric is,
We are those things and more,
At both ends of measurable and
Immeasurable.
We are Recovery,
Blessed and cursed,
Extreme, at the center,
Straight forward, reversed,
The Topsy in Turvy,
The empty in full,
The fool in the wise man,
The sparkle in jewel.
We are Recovery,
In Recovery immersed.
Thank you for listening to our little verse.
We are among you,
Silent no more.
*****
11. “The Tomb of the Anonymous Addict”
Sometimes
walking down the street
you think you hear the sound of leaves scuttling along,
but these are the plans, hopes, dreams of the dead.
Wind barely whispering over the green lips
of empty bottles,
syringes puncturing the silence in their stillness.
Sentences gasping for a last breath,
forever unfinished.
The Tomb of the Anonymous Addict
is really many tombs in many doorways, further down anonymous valleys than any still alive have ever ventured.
No such monument truly exists.
It's undedicated,
the dead remains unidentified.
It is truly unnamed and unguarded.
It tires me,
this Tomb of the Anonymous Addict.
It exists in my mind only.
And it makes me weary.
*****
12. “Tomorrow is the Apple Seed of Now”
Tomorrow is a storm coming over South Mountain.
The lightning's light will quickly reach us.
The thunder's rumble: an old man shuffling our way.
I thirst for rain, the hope for change.
I hold hope and turn it in my hand
like a hand holding and turning an apple.
Tomorrow is the apple seed of now.
I do not know where their branches might spread
or what bright wings of birds might land upon those branches
or if I will live to witness this.
Crunch! The apple in my hand.
Crunch! The memory of my footsteps in the snow.
Crunch! Eternity condensed into this Now.
Crunch! The illusion of my power.
More important than "What do you carry?" is "What carries you?"
Crunch! Tomorrow is the apple seed of now and nothing more.
Tomorrow is the apple seed of now and nothing less.
Crunch! I carry an apple. An apple carries me.
Recovery is my apple seed of now, my apple seed of now....
... Recovery is my apple seed of now.
13. "Trojan Horse”
Two-thirds cup of doubt in an empty cup.
That was my kind of luck.
No leap of faith would fill my drunken cup
or keep me sober.
My trust in my own recovery
is not yet complete,
has never been and may never be.
I have to be here fully, or close to fully,
belly up to my own Recovery Bar.
I am my own Trojan horse –
a full cup hidden inside an empty one.
*****
14. “Walk with Me”
“Here you are drunk and walking the halls
Of the Taj Mahal Casino,
Picking cigarette butts out of ashtrays.
You break off the filters and re-roll the butt ends
With new cigarette papers.
This is a way to survive, to think that you’re surviving.
This is when the only food is the juice in this vodka and cranberry.
This is when it takes you two solid hours to get out of bed
And put on a pair of shoes.
This is when there is no next drink,
There is just this one long drink that goes on forever.
This is where there is no up or down
And you can only move sideways.
This is where waking up is like falling through a stage prop wall.
This is where you carry your addictions in a cardboard box
As if you were moving to another location.
This is finding no location and the box is empty.
This is standing and not being able to move.
This is drunk and crashing, falling,
Falling through a bottom, tumbling.
This is where a hospital wakes you up and you do not know
Who you are or where you are….”
This is not you.
This is Alcohol.
Alcohol is that powerful.
Addiction is this extreme poverty of self.
This is where you scratch the surface until the truth runs clear.
Scratch the surface until the truth runs clear.
Until the truth runs clear.
*****
You may also enjoy ALL DRINKING ASIDE: The Destruction, Deconstruction & Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal
Find it on Amazon. Book it here: http://amzn.to/1bX6JyO
4. "Becoming Unbroken" is the frontispiece for my second book, BECOMING UNBROKEN: Reflections on Addiction & Recovery
(Find it on Amazon, Book it here): https://lnkd.in/dkF767RT
7,400+ Recovery Tweets: http://twitter.com/JimAnders4
Like
Comment
Share
0 notes
Text
ever since new york - a close reading
hs1, track 8
intro post - overview
Tumblr media Tumblr media
here is that first post i did ages ago, which is fine as a very superficial reading, but this is the full-on deep dive that i should have granted this song from the start <3
LYRIC ANALYSIS
Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do I need something, tell me something new
the other, "you", is the one who needs to relieve harry - harry is done looking for answers
give me anything, anything at all, even if it's pretend and not something i've heard a million times
Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote For this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?
"choose your words": bc you might offend me? bc pls don't get my hopes up?
no antidote for what? what's the curse?
"what's it waiting for": does harry want it to hurry up? why? - seems more like something you'd say while waiting for something to hit yourself, not someone else -> the curse will hit harry
impatience, just get it over with
"must this hurt you just before you go": was "you" already certainly going? passing away? or leaving? is the thing hurting "you" something separate from what's making them go or not?
Oh, tell me something I don't already know
Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news
specific location, is the story specific to nyc? what happened in ny? or is the memory just linked to that place?
There's no water inside this swimming pool
the key to harry's universe is water
~ "two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty"
comfort, answers in/around water: mvs for golden, falling, lights up, adore you, sott. now there is no water, no way for him/his emotions to escape or even find answers
Almost over, had enough from you And I've been praying, I never did before Understand I'm talking to the walls I've been praying ever since New York
almost self-indulgent in his sadness -> sad for something that happened to him? not "you"?
"had enough from you": who says that about someone who's passing away? -> could be, but very bitter
or "you" is multiple people in this song
"understand I'm talking to the walls":
praying feels like talking to the walls: doesn't believe it'll do anything
nothing he can say or do will change anything, despite his pleas
nobody is listening to him
he's alone, lonely
something changed for good while he was in ny
Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do Tell me something just before you go
"you" has the right words to say to h. no matter how true they are, h needs "you" to soothe him
could be that religious aspect again: tell me i'll see you again, tell me we'll be alright - and now i'm getting deep into it
SYNTHESIS
Alright, so. This song is an enigma that I'll never crack, and that's okay. It's about something deeply painful and personal to Harry, which is exactly why it's impossible to figure out. This one is for Harry, so he has a way to sing about his pain while still keeping the story to himself. Here are some of my thoughts, but feel free to throw them out of the window if they don't make sense to you.
My initial analysis zoomed in on the story that it was about Harry's grief about his stepfather's battle with cancer. I didn't leave any other options open, which doesn't do the song justice, because there are so many other ways to hear the song. This particular interpretation still makes sense, but not on its own. I think, just like any other meaningful Harry song, it's a web of emotions and things that cause him pain all connecting in the middle to create this work of art.
Reading the lyrics now, I see Harry as someone who is in pain, but also impatient, desperate but in the know that he is helpless, with that bit of anger in there, too, that is found all over HS1. Despite "you" going and also hurting, Harry is focused on his own suffering, loneliness and inability to find any answers. It's "you" who needs to give him the answers, to tell him something. The prayers, there, might actually be a red line in the song. Harry has never prayed, and doesn't believe it'll do anything for him, as he feels like no one is listening, but "you" might be able to offer some words that soothe his mind. Like a prayer, about a prayer, or something else entirely.
This religious aspect, with the notion of the "curse" that doesn't have an "antidote" (which makes the gears in my head turn bc however incurable cancer may be at times, there have been many successful recoveries, too), points me in the direction of sexuality again. It can't be changed, and it's seen, by many, as a curse, or a burden, especially in Harry's position. He's been told shit over and over again about his life, how he should live it or change it; he's heard it all before. And now, in New York, Harry hears news that makes him reach a limit. Even reach out to religion, which usually he wouldn't do, because of his sexuality. He doesn't think it would help him, specifically because of the church's famous phobic stance on homosexuality. Also, the fact that ESNY follows Kiwi on the album, reinforces this idea for me. The anger he has for what others tell him to do, decide for him, things he has no say in (it's none of your business - talking to the walls), due to his sexuality that doesn't fit their norm, flows from Kiwi into Ever Since New York, where the anger dissipates a bit and he expresses his devastation. The melodic parallel with Badfinger's Baby Blue hits hard here, when you know about that band's history (struggles with label, s*icide). (here is a post by @bluewinnerangel that deals a lot more with that subject matter and it's fucking sad so be warned. don't read if you don't like to read about what i crossed out in those brackets before)
So, connecting all of this, I hear the song differently every time. What I do know is that it's first and foremost about Harry's grief about what's happening to him. In some ways I still imagine he's talking to his stepfather, who he asks for help and relief; something he often did before. Perhaps because he's passing, and Harry needs to know he'll see him again, despite his sexuality that's labeled as a curse. And he's sorry that, right before going, he has to see Harry go through so much shit, see Harry in pain. Of course, I also relate this song heavily to Don't Let It Break Your Heart by Louis. Especially the specific line "you left a part of you in New York", again pointing to that location and something life-changing happening there that caused a lot of sadness and pain. And that song deals with mental health issues, those that can feel like they come and go, but stay with you forever. The mention of the age 27, there, as well. Just. yeah.
Maybe, Harry's just talking to himself. Praying, talking to the walls. Looking deep in that mirror, as he so often does when looking for answers. He's had enough of himself.
In any case, this is a deeply sad song where Harry expresses that he's at a point where he sees no way out. Any hope he has, like praying, seems futile to him. He keeps doing it, though. He keeps praying, he keeps asking for someone to tell him anything. To offer him solace, to talk him out of it. A lot changed with this experience Harry went through, but he got through it. Thank fuck for that.
64 notes · View notes
dayseternal-blog · 3 years
Note
Hi days! I know you're the best person to go to for some NH fic recommendations. Can you share with us really angsty NH fics? I've read White Lillies, that amount of angst is revitalizing I LOVE IT!!! big thanks!!!
HELLO
For how fluffy NaruHina is, there SURE ARE A LOT of shippers who LOVE NARUHINA ANGST.  I’ve been asked for angst recs far more than any other type????
I will now compile every angst fic rec I’ve ever made into one long list.  (folks can see if there’s anything I’ve missed 🤓)
NARUHINA ANGST
“A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her.  He’s not enough to save her, either.
“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage.  “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.
“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.
“if this is love (why does it hurt?)” by ClairvoyantDreamer1011 - Rated M, Friends with benefits Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata knew many things about Naruto Uzumaki. She knew that his heated glances meant ‘I want you’; that lingering touches whispered 'please’, and that the sight of his back to her screamed 'leave’. But she couldn’t tell you what they were to each other for the life of her.
“If You Said You Loved Me” by destiny’s sweet melody - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto begins to realize he took her feelings for granted and now he’s too late.
“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?
“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.
“For the Future” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata understands this better than anyone else. Naruto is easy to love.  (I actually just hate the ending a lot.  That’s what puts this on the list).
“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.
“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated M for smut, substance abuse, PTSD, and depictions of domestic violence and non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.
“Common Side Effects” (Naruto’s POV) by @katarinahime & “Medicated” (Hinata’s POV) by @szajnie - Rated E for smut, substance abuse, mental illness, and depictions of violence, self-harm, and attempted suicide, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.
“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.
“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.
“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.
“Hidden From Sunlight” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. How different could Naruto’s life be when the girl that seemed 'barely around’ is truly hardly around at all?
“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M for depictions of violence and character death, Mystery/Crime High School/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.
“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.
“April - Too Late/Missed Opportunities” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, College/Modern AU, One-shot. After her 3 years away for college, Naruto decides to confess.
“June - Honor/Sacrifice” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto marries Hinata, the girl of his dreams.  If only she loved him back.
“you totally almost killed me that one time (it’s okay I still love you)” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  Naruto, a promising baseball player, returns to Konoha Prep, and, without so much as even a “long time no see,” hits a ball into Hinata’s face. (This isn’t really angsty…but I get really upset in Ch. 4 and cry a lot every time.)
“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.
“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.
“Dreaming of AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M for implied suicide, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto dreams of her. He grows to love her. Dreams are nice. Too bad reality is a nightmare. (Most likely a continuation of the Asylum AU.)
“Memory Loss AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I LOVE YOU. Will I ever hear those words from your lips again?
“The Path We Walk” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. With his memory of the past five years missing, Naruto never expected to be married to Hinata, and now he must navigate through the maze that is their life together with no memory of how he got there.
“Easier For Me” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot, Complete. How will Hinata handle waking up with no memory of how she got there?
“My Escape” by @marimare-writes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto wakes up from a coma with no recollection of life after graduating the Academy. Hinata, anxious and with a secret that will change both of their lives, struggles with what to do.
“Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror” by mysterious intentions - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Her love is taken lightly, as if her heart could change so easily.
“Good Luck” By LovelyLori - Rated T, Flowers/Ballet AU, Two-Shot, Complete. A Japanese ballet company arrives in Naruto’s town.  Can love transcend language barriers? (I spent HOURS looking for this one, it totally breaks my heart.)
“On the outside looking in” by @char-lotteral - Rated E for smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s in love with his best friend’s girlfriend fiancee.  And he’s not moving on.
“Sincerely, Uzumaki Naruto” by @bkgsbby​ - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. After his wife leaves him a week after giving birth to their son, Naruto moves back to Konoha. He adjusts to life as a single father, with the help of his friends and surprisingly, his old crush.
“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.
“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.
Untitled by @randomprose - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Hinata finds out that Naruto told Minato that Sakura is his girlfriend.
“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.
“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.
“Duplicity” by GoldKing - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata’s children are blond.
“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.
“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.
“Blurred Lines” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Police / Cops and Robbers Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Detective Naruto Uzumaki is having a hard time staying focused at work due to an elusive, dark-haired beauty.  (Starts off fun and smutty, grows angsty).
“I want you to cry” and its sequel “Road of Tears” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.
“Absolute” by @ssa25 - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She was his kind, shy and innocent friend. Until she wasn’t. He was her pure, beautiful and unrequited love. Until he wasn’t.
I’m very glad that you enjoyed my “White Lilies” fic!!  Here’s everything I could think of for you to cry or stress out over.
SAD READING 😢
181 notes · View notes
collisiondiscourse · 3 years
Text
say amen (bkdk drabble)
(a little drabble based off of one of my favorite posts that ive ever made)
Katsuki’s not a religious man.
Yeah, okay, he believes in deities and goes to temples, the blond will admit that much. The existence of a higher power isn’t really that far from the realms of possibility when he regularly interacts with people who have the head of a bird or engines for legs. He celebrates the holidays, and on days where he’s feeling especially magnanimous, Katsuki even buys temple charms and sends out a quick prayer to whoever might be listening.
But he isn’t religious.
He doesn’t like feeling like he’s indebted to someone. That somehow, somewhere, there is someone Katsuki should be grateful to for giving him all his successes. He worked hard to get where he is now all by himself, thank you very much. The idea that everything is somehow predetermined or controlled by someone he can’t even see is one that makes the blond break out into hives.
A man with any dignity such as Katsuki’s is too proud to kneel to any god.
But then again… Izuku Midoriya is no such god.
He’s very much human, Katsuki would believe despite the seemingly endless strength his short and stocky figure possesses. He’s freckles and sunburns and scars and toothy smiles and everything that used to make the blond’s blood boil. Deku can’t dress himself nicely to save his life and sings All Might show tunes in the shower when he thinks no one can hear. Katsuki’s seen the boy throw up on his dumb red shoes and laugh so hard he scared himself with his own snorts.
He’s seen Deku at his worst. Crying and crumbling, body all bloodied and torn up after giving it his all. He’s seen him angry--borderline murderous even--with rage consuming him and leaving him gasping for breath as he saddles closer and closer to the line betwean life and death. He’s seen Deku broken and hollow, unable to eat for days and smelling like a decomposing corpse because the demons in his eyes had all but haunted him from even getting up to shower.
The point being, Katsuki knows that Izuku Midoriya is flawed.
He should, at least. Having seen these cracks and imperfections over and over should’ve cemented the idea that Deku was far from perfect. He sees sides of Deku that even their best friends, let alone the public have never seen. Bakugou knows that Izuku Midoriya is not a God--and is in fact very far from one.
But fuck if he doesn’t worship him like he is.
When Izuku confessed to him in their second year, Katsuki thinks that he learned what it feels like to die.
As dramatic as it sounds, it’s true. Watching those green eyes peel away from their locked gaze on his red ones to stare nervously at the ground causes Katsuki’s heart to jump. His palms were sweaty and blood roared in his ears, deafening him from all sounds except Deku’s voice. He’d initially thought that this was it. This was Deku preparing to tell him that he couldn’t stand being his friend anymore, that no matter how much Katsuki tried to atone for himself, Deku finally realized that Katsuki would never be worthy of his love.
It built up and up until Katsuki couldn’t breathe, willpower alone keeping him from gasping for breath as he awaited Deku’s rejection. The sun set in a brilliant cast of oranges and purples, but neither boy on the rooftop could stand to appreciate it when the sights in front of them were far more important.
“Kacchan,” he blurts at last. A sliver of his pink tongue peeks out to lick at his chapped lips. Katsuki’s chest constricts with want. “I like you.”
And it’s at those three words that Katsuki truly believes in an afterlife.
His heart clenches and stops for a different reason--a different feeling entirely. The world tilts on its axis and his breaths come up short, yet Katsuki’s never been happier to have been wrong. Parts of him shrivel up. Shudder in anxiety. Embers of raw anger and determination (leftover from years of scars and charred notebooks) tell him that he’s not worthy of Deku. That Katsuki is yet to even deserve to take the hand that has been waiting for him for his whole life.
Admittedly though, Katsuki Bakugou is a selfish, selfish man.
He stares at that freckled and blushing face like it’s a reflection of the universe itself. Green eyes that mistakenly take Katsuki’s silence as rejection grow watery, and yet as Katsuki stares into the molten pool of emerald and moss, he thinks he may see his entire life in those pretty eyes.
“...Kacchan? It’s okay if you don’t, uh, like me back. I u-understand if you feel uncomfortable or no longer want me be your friend even if it kinda s--”
“W-well really, it’s more of love. I... love you. Like, a lot. Have for a while I mean and I tried really hard to hide it but I’m sure it was obvious from the beginning and well, Uraraka said I was really bad at lying so I wasn’t really sure...” he mumbles. Stutters, because he’s human and very much not a god.
Katsuki Bakugou kisses Izuku Midoriya for the first time.
He kisses Izuku Midoriya because he wants all of him. He wants the sorrow and broken bones. The awkward laughter and nervous tics. Katsuki wants those green eyes to never stop looking at him and that mouth to never stop muttering the most inane nothings. He wants the beautiful and the ugly, the victories and the losses. He wants and he wants and he wants and he wants, and now that all of it is within his reach dear god is he never letting go.
The blond pours his soul into the kiss. Mouth harsh and unyielding, ever determined to prove to anyone watching that he’d throw away his life for this boy in a heartbeat. The desperation in their kiss practically daring anyone to try and pull them apart. Katsuki wants the kiss to say everything that he, in his weak and human state, cannot even begin to phrase. That somehow a single kiss could show the other that Katsuki loves him so much it breaks him inside. It’s so good that it’s painful. It’s painful and excruciating but fucking hell if Katsuki pulls away for one moment he thinks he might actually truly die.
They’re training to be pro-heroes, so of course their pain tolerance is higher than most. They’ve been taught to fight in any environment no matter what—could probably fight five people underwater for an hour without breaking a sweat. All of those hours of training somehow still mean nothing to Katsuki in the brilliance of the storm that is Izuku Midoriya.
Because as they kiss and breathe in each other’s air, Katsuki forces himself to pull away with a gasp.
Izuku thinks he’s hurt the blond accidentally, somehow. That he’d been too rough or pushed Bakugou into it or even just took his breath away from him in the literal sense. What the green-haired hero didn’t expect was the sheer devotion in ruby eyes.
(It would’ve scared him, if it didn’t make his knees shaky and heart rate speed up in exhilaration.)
Meanwhile, Katsuki’s drowning.
He’s drowning so deep in emotions that he’d never let himself feel until now. Drowning in his insecurities and greatest desires. Drowning in emotion and vigour. Drowning in the feeling of kissing Izuku fucking Midoriya. Part of him screams in agony, protesting this weakness as it fucks with his mind and squeezes at his heart.
The rest of him lets it happen.
Bakugou pulls away, gasping for breath. It’s too much and not enough, because he loves this boy so goddamn much that it actually hurts. He’s crying, and it’s kind of pathetic, really. So undone by a single kiss that tears streak down his face while white spots appear in vision of ruby eyes. A man so weak--so overcome with emotion that he can’t help but sob at the torrent of devotion that overtakes him. His heart throbs painfully and he struggles to take gulps of air, because Katsuki doesn’t truly love many people but there’s something about Izuku Midoriya that destroys him so thoroughly.
Ever understanding, ever patient, and ever too good for his damned, hell-bound soul, Izuku holds him close. He lets Katsuki weep into his jacket and runs scarred fingers through pale blond strands as the other boy tries to stifle his sobs. He hushes him with a light kiss to his temple and listens patiently as Katsuki whimpers every variant of ‘I love you’ under the sun.
Izuku Midoriya is no such god, but Katsuki Bakugou worships him like one nonetheless.
521 notes · View notes
trekkiepirate · 3 years
Text
Master of All
My Witcher Secret Santa gift for @motionalocean! @thewitchersecretsanta
Crossposted to AO3 HERE
nearly 9.2K of BAMF!Jaskier and Geralt being progressively more smitten. 5 Times Jaskier Is Good At Things Geralt Didn't Expect And The 1 Thing He Knew Jaskier Was Good At. PG-13 for bad words, canon-typical violence, and the +1 Under cut because it’s hella long.
1. Pickpocketing
“Well,” Jaskier huffed, “I sincerely hope you missed one of those ghouls and they come back and eat this whole rotten village. Starting with that alderman. No, starting with his appalling son who has the AUDACITY to claim he was a better singer than me. My gods, Geralt, I don’t even think I’ll complain of the lack of a roof and a bed this evening. Sleeping under the stars with my very dear friend-“
“-not friends,” Geralt huffed.
The interruption entirely ignored by Jaskier. “-who is twice, thrice, no no no ten, a hundred, a THOUSAND times the man that they could ever dream of being. Asking a man-“
“-not a man,” Geralt said, expecting, correctly, Jaskier would ignore this comment too.
Jaskier, instead, whirled and looked at Geralt like he had punched him. Actually, he looked more upset than when Geralt has, in fact, punched him. “Of course you’re a man.” Jaskier tilted his head. “Well, I cannot say for certain as I have not yet seen you… in a state of undress. Though not that the having of a penis makes one a man. It’s more about your own identity-”
“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, sliding two now-skinned hares onto sticks over the fire.
“You’re a man because that’s who you tell the world you are.”
“I don’t.”
It seemed only every other sentence was going to get through Jaskier’s tirades as he stopped speaking.
For a few blissful seconds. “Geralt,” Jaskier put his hands on his hips, voice exasperated as if he were a teacher who expected better of his pupil. “Geralt,” he said again, “you are the best man I have ever met. Smarter than any scholar, kinder than any priest, more noble than any titled twat.”
Geralt blinked. Jaskier seemed so sincere. “We’ve just met.”
“Right, well, we’ve actually been traveling together for four months, but I imagine time feels different when you’re basically immortal, so we’ll let that slide.”
A frown twisted Geralt’s face. “You’re young. You can’t have met that many people.”
Jaskier pursed his lips and put on what he called his Viscount voice. Though why he’d pretend to be a Viscount was beyond Geralt. “I studied for years at the most prestigious and widely attended university on the Continent. I have met plenty of people, Geralt. And you are still the best one I know.”
Geralt hmmed. “Your good opinion won’t buy us a roof and a bed.”
A grin like a succubus, pretty and dangerous, spread over Jaskier’s face. He reached into his trousers and produced a bag of coins. “It might do.”
The same bag of coins that the alderman had refused to give Geralt after he cleared a nest of ghouls from a field. He’d taken three crowns and told Geralt that it couldn’t be worth the whole bag if it only took him an hour.
As it was, most of that hour was building the bomb he’d need to destroy the nest. The ghouls had been sated by feeding on villagers who’d tried to kill them and were slow.
“Where-” Geralt shook his head, he knew the answer to that one. “How?”
Jaskier tossed the bag in the air and caught it. He continued doing so as he spoke. “Remember when I gestured around his, frankly gaudy and most certainly fake, prized vase?”
Geralt stared at the boy. “You distracted him by making him think you might break his vase and then stole his coin out of his pocket.”
“Exactly! Really it’s his fault for so blatantly putting the coin away while looking down his nose at you.” Jaskier grinned bright and extracted one coin from the bag before handing it to Geralt.
“Thief’s fee?” Geralt nodded at the coin.
Jaskier’s smile got even more mischievous. He balanced the coin on his thumb, then flicked it.
It hit Geralt in the chest and fell into his lap.
“Well, tossing a coin is the chorus of the song anyway,” he winked, then spun around, grabbing a cooked hare and blowing on it before taking a large bite. “They’ll see,” he said as he chewed, “my song will become a hit! ‘Toss a Coin’ will be sung the entire length and breadth of the Continent and men like that will be the pariahs, the outcasts. Anyone who denigrates a witcher will be spit upon in the streets. See how they like that!” Jaskier’s next bite was near savage, tearing the meat from the bone. But the next moment, he grinned over the fire at Geralt. “And until it does become a hit and you are lauded as the hero you are, and don’t say you’re not a hero, I see your mouth opening and you can very well shut it again for all the credence I’m going to give you saying you’re not a hero.” He gestured wildly with his hare, grease dripping slowly down his hand and forearm, on display since he’d rolled up the sleeves as his chemise on such a warm night.
Geralt found his next breath a little harder to take as he stared at the bare forearm. He hmmed and took up his own meal.
“So until that day, I will gladly make sure you are properly paid for your work,” he waggled the fingers of his left hand at Geralt. “One way or another.”
“Don’t get caught,” Geralt said. “I won’t break you out of any jail cell you land in.”
Jaskier laughed. “That is a bald-faced lie. You did the exact thing two towns ago and that wasn’t even me risking my freedom and safety for you to be given all you deserve.”
Geralt looked up at Jaskier, then quickly back to his hare when he found the expression on Jaskier’s face too… too much like something warm settling in his stomach. He ate the rest of the hare as fast as he could.
No one had ever said Geralt deserved anything. Not anything nice, anyway. But Jaskier seemed to think that Geralt was a kind of hero in a tale and wanted him to be treated as such.
Fool’s errand, he thought. Jaskier was young and didn’t know how the world worked outside of the high walls of a university. He’d learn. Until then…
“Fine.”
Having gone back to eating, Jaskier was silent for a moment as if trying to recall where the conversation was picking up from. “What’s fine? Oh! Me stealing when people refuse to pay you your just wage. Of course it’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head for a moment; I’ve never been caught yet.” He waggled his fingers in Geralt’s direction. “Dexterity is name of the game when one spends one’s life dedicated to possibly the most delicate and finnicky instrument known to man.” He looked down at his gifted elven lute like it was his flesh and blood child, so loving and soft.
When he raised his head and looked at Geralt, his adoring expression didn’t change in the least.
Geralt cleared his throat and threw the hareless stick onto the fire. ‘Go to sleep, Jaskier.”
A few more large bites and Jaskier did as he was told, snuggling into his bedroll. Which Geralt had bought him when Jaskier proved that no amount of silence or disinterest would keep him from staying at Geralt’s side, praising every deed in song. He picked up the bag of coin and wandered over to Roach to tuck it safely in her saddlebag.
The horse nickered softly and seemed to throw her head repeatedly in Jaskier’s direction.
“Don’t get attached,” Geralt scolded.
Roach tilted her head in Jaskier’s direction and kept it there.
Geralt sighed and whispered into the still night air. “Thank you, Jaskier.” He patted Roach, now seemingly satisfied, and made his way to his own bedroll, set a bit behind Jaskier’s so the bard was close to the warm fire and that anything that leapt at them from the woods would have to get through Geralt before it could get to Jaskier.
He laid there, thinking about how quickly making sure the boy warm and safe had become a priority.
2. Knowing Who The Nobles Are Everywhere They Go
“Nope,” Jaskier plucked the sun-faded paper from Geralt’s hand, ignoring Geralt’s exasperated expression. “Oh no, no, no, no. Nope, you will not be taking this. Well, you will not be taking this contract with Duke Hereward. He’s an absolute bastard and will quite surely stiff you of your deserved coin. No, we’d best find where,” he squinted at the ink, “Meadwood Farms is and go straight to the farmers themselves. Hereward will weasel his weasely way out of giving you anything. I’d gladly steal anything he might have of worth-“
Geralt glanced around, hoping no one who worked for the Duke was listening, as Jaskier did not seem to understand what the word ‘discretion’ meant.
“-alas the double-edged sword of fame means if something were to go mysteriously but deservedly missing after we took our leave, I’d find my lovely new position as a professor at Oxenfurt suddenly taken from me.” He smiled at Geralt. “I need something to do during the winter while you hide away in your Witchery mountains to do… mountainous Witchery things.”
Suppressing the urge to smile, Geralt nodded towards the inn. “I’m sure someone will know who owns the farm in there.”
Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and began to drag him (well, steer him as if Geralt had truly not wanted to be led, there was no way the boy, barely into his twenties, could move him) towards the inn. “Good people of Ellander!”
“Jaskier,” Geralt nearly rolled his eyes.
“Your prayers to the Great Meletile have been answered,” Jaskier continued. “Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf himself, has come to aid you with your monster problems. Merely point us to Meadwood Farms and you shall soon see why Geralt is the hero of the Continent.”
Geralt was strangely glad his body no longer had the ability to blush. Jaskier’s absolute faith in Geralt was steadfast and it made something heavy and warm settle in Geralt’s chest. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be able to feel this way, to be so… cared about.
A pretty-eyed maiden made her way over to them. She smiled brightly at Jaskier. “I work at the farm. I’d be ever so glad to lead you… and the witcher there.”
The eye rolling couldn’t be controlled this time, as Jaskier immediately brightened under her attentions. “Well lead on, good miss. I presume it’s miss?”
“It is,” she giggled.
Geralt was rather glad they barely paid any heed to him as they flirted their way across town to the countryside. “What is it?” Geralt eventually asked.
Both Jaskier and the young woman, Elzbet apparently, startled as if they’d forgotten Geralt was still there. They probably had.
“The monster,” Geralt clarification. “What is it?”
Elzbet shrugged. “I didn’t see it. I do not know. Master Prospero was the one who saw it. He’s in the big house.”
Jaskier grinned. “Yes, yes, Geralt head up to see Master Prospero. Elzbet has promised to show me a most charming little corner of the barn. Apparently, there’s an owl’s nest there.”
Geralt would turn over every coin he received for the contract if there was actually an owl’s nest anywhere in the barn. All Jaskier was likely to see was up the girl’s skirts. Stomping away with a little more force than he probably needed to use, Geralt found the farm owner and got the information he needed.
It was a nest of nekkars and Geralt has cleared them all out by that night. The reward scraped together by the workers was only a third of what Hereward had promised, but it was given in gratitude and with open hands. Prospero himself was so grateful, he offered Geralt and Jaskier a room in his home for the night, as well as their dinner that night and breakfast the next morning.
Jaskier spent most of the night trying to find a suitably dirty rhyme he approved of for owl.
“Howl. Or yowl, which I will make you do if you do not put that candle out.” Geralt said at last.
“Oh you,” Jaskier tsked as he quickly scribbled down a few more lines. “You know what that Witchery magic does to me.” He winked.
Geralt buried his head further into the pillow. “Didn’t get enough with your farm girl?”
Jaskier gasped, affronted. “Excuse you, Elzbet is more than a farm girl, she is the love of my life.” He sighed dreamily. “I might stay, you know. With her.”
“Better her than me,” Geralt grumbled.
“I know you don’t truly mean those words or I’d be heartbroken beyond repair to hear you say that,” Jaskier shrugged out of his doublet and pinched out the candle flame between his licked fingers. “But what if I did? Stay?”
Geralt huffed. “You’d make a piss poor farmer.”
Jaskier laughed lightly. “Probably true.” He sighed. “Would you miss me?”
“Go to sleep, Jaskier,” Geralt said in lieu of an actual answer. “If you’re to be a farmer, you must get used to early mornings.”
Humming thoughtfully, Jaskier settled down, the line of his back just an inch away from Geralt’s in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”
In the morning, Jaskier packed and took his place at Geralt’s side. He tried out lyrics and chords and by the time he and Geralt made camp that night, Jaskier had a new ballad. It was about love between a wanderer and a maiden, whom he loved but left to follow the open road he had long ago promised his heart to, his truest love.
Though he never actually sang the word road, Geralt realized as he watched Jaskier sing it a week later in a tavern. The song itself was called Walking The Path.
3. Gwent
“Dammit,” Geralt growled as he threw down his remaining card. A clear weather was useless when there were no weather cards in effect. The score was tied, but his opponent played with a Nilfgaardian deck and therefore won all ties.
The smarmy git was smiling at him like a smarmy git. “Fair is fair,” he held out a hand, “I’ll be taking your unique card now.”
It was lying next to the card the other man had anted up in the center of the table, but clearly humiliation was part of his winnings.
Geralt picked up the card and dropped it into the other man’s hand. “Here.”
“Better luck next time,” the bastard called out and he gestured another player to take Geralt’s place.
He still had all the coin he’d won, the cards had been the only prizes in that last round, so Geralt went over to the bar and ordered two ales and a glass of wine.
By the time he was picking up the second mug of ale, Jaskier had finished his set and bounded over, downing the wine in one go as always and ordering himself another.
“What’s this face? Is my singing truly that bad? Please know, if you say anything about pie, I will be forced to waste this lovely wine on your rude head.” Geralt grunted. “Singing was fine. Lost my game is all.”
Jaskier tilted his head. “You were winning when I last checked in on you.” He looked at his glass. “Do you need some coin? I got a fair amount tonight, people around here are very anti-Nilfgaard and my lovely little ditty went a treat. You must have heard the cheers.”
Geralt nodded. He had. In between games, he’d kept his eye on Jaskier. The djinn incident was two weeks ago, but this was Jaskier’s first performance since he almost lost his voice. And life.
The bard had been nervous and Geralt hadn’t even started playing gwent until the anxious scent faded into his usual confident burst of sundried linen and mint. The crowd was just as adoring, just as loud as always. Jaskier’s voice hadn’t suffered any permanent damage and Geralt was relieved. After all, his unthinking words had been the reason Geralt had almost lost… that Jaskier had almost lost his voice.
“Not coin,” Geralt said at last, draining his mug. “Lost my best card though. Drew an unlucky hand and couldn’t seem to bring it back around. Ended in a draw, but the bastard played as Nilfgaard so he took the tie.”
Jaskier frowned. “No chance to get it back?”
Geralt shrugged. “He plays here a lot, apparently. Has rules about only one match per opponent.” He shook his head. “Nothing for it.”
Putting down his half full glass, Jaskier nodded. “Right, well then.” He turned and headed towards the tables set up for cards.
“Jaskier?” Geralt blinked at the space the bard had occupied a second ago. “Jaskier?”
Jaskier was already standing in front of the bastard.
Geralt couldn’t remember his name, wasn’t even sure he’d been told who he’d been playing against.
Jaskier’s relaxed ease was gone, instead his shoulders hunched up, making him look for all the world like an angry cat about to take a chunk out of the next person who tried to pet it. “Valdo Marx,” Jaskier hissed out like the very letters of the name offended him.
Huh. Geralt looked at the man who’d defeated him.
Valdo looked up with a beatific smile. “Julian, is that you? I did think I heard your particular brand of empty words and trite notes in that boyish tenor of yours.”
Now no longer just upset about the card, Geralt’s fingers twitched towards his sword. Sure, he’d not exactly complimented Jaskier’s songs recently, but his insult was born of trying to offend the man into shutting up so Geralt could find the damnable djinn and get some fucking sleep.
Which, looking back, was a useless attempt as Jaskier had been drunk and Drunk Jaskier was even more prone to rambling than Sober Jaskier.
“Normally, I’d be quite glad to just punch you in the nose,” Jaskier smirked, “again.”
Taking a closer look, Geralt did notice that Valdo’s nose was slightly crooked. As if broken a few too many times.
“But if seems you have some pretentious rule about not allowing people to win their losings back from you like an honourable gentleman would.” Jaskier crossed his arms. “So I’ll play you for Geralt’s card.”
Valdo blinked blankly. “Geralt?”
Jaskier clucked his tongue as he sat down. “My goodness, you are out of touch. Everyone on the Continent knows I sing of Geralt of Rivia, heroic Witcher of legend and my very best friend in the whole world.”
Geralt didn’t bother to object.
“Then again, you rarely get to leave Cidaris, don’t you?” Jaskier produced his gwent deck and began to shuffle it. “I often wonder how you’d do in a town you didn’t grow up in? But then your father’s money wouldn’t be there to buy you a court position now would it? Has he bought you a title yet?”
Though Jaskier couldn’t see it, perhaps because Jaskier couldn’t see it, Geralt grinned broadly at that.
Valdo grinned back nastily, revealing he had a missing canine tooth as well. “If he did, at least one of us would use their title to make a difference to their homeland. Tell me, Julian,” he laid out his deck and dealt himself a hand, “when did you last visit Lettenhove? Or do you still think wandering amongst the common folk singing dirty songs in dirty taverns is the proper way a viscount should behave? Whatever would your mother day?”
Geralt watched Jaskier’s grip on his own hand tighten, just slightly. “Just play, Marx.”
Huh. Apparently Jaskier wasn’t making the whole viscount thing up.
“Oh now now,” Valdo laid down his hand, “we haven’t set terms yet. You want the Witcher’s card, right? This one,” he picked it up and flipped it along the back of his hand. “But what will you bet? I never play for anything as gauche as coin. Some of us get wages, not a handful of coins in a dusty lute case. Actually,” Valdo leaned forward, “that’s what we’ll play for. Your pretty lute. See if you can perform in royal courts without your maaaagical little instrument.”
“No.”
Jaskier and Valdo both snapped their attention to Geralt.
“No,” he repeated. Jaskier’s lute was his livelihood, his most precious possession. Geralt wanted his card back, but not at that price. Jaskier was a clever player, Geralt knew, but Valdo’s deck was evil, full of spies and scorch cards. “Not the lute. Choose something else.”
Valdo shook his head. “Don’t think I will,” he turned back to Jaskier. “You bet your lute or I walk away and your witcher never sees his card again.”
Geralt put a hand out to grab Jaskier’s shoulder and urge him up to their room, but Jaskier just nodded. “It’s a bet. Play, Marx.”
Worry came over Geralt and he found himself pacing behind Jaskier, trying not to look at his cards because then he’d know if Jaskier had a good hand and if he didn’t…
If Jaskier lost his lute, he’d be crushed. Geralt would buy him another; he’d have to. But to lose the lute Filavandrel had given him… Jaskier always said it brought him luck, sounded sweeter than all others, even when slightly out of tune.
“It will always remind me of the day my life changed forever,” he’d smile at it, then at Geralt.
Geralt still hadn’t worked out whether he meant the day he wrote the song that made him famous or the day he learned the world was much more complicated than his human-written studies might have led him to believe.
Geralt watched as Jaskier’s hand dwindled to two cards.
Valdo still had half a dozen.
It was the last hand; both had won a turn and this would decide the winner.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Geralt closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to meditate or at least clear his mind. He still had his winnings from the other matches he’d played tonight. He had no idea how much a lute cost, but he’s fairly sure he’d be able to cover it. Did this town even have a shop that might carry one? It was only just inside the borders of Cidaris, not a particularly large village now that Geralt thought about it.
“You,” he heard a hiss, “cheated.”
Jaskier was smiling. “I did no such thing. I merely used your same tactics against you.” He held out a hand. “The card. Unless you’d like to try and win it back?”
Valdo spit out some words in Elder as he threw the card at Jaskier and stomped out like a petulant child.
Geralt was rusty and only caught every few words. Something about Jaskier’s bedroom habits and something else about being a pathetic, he thinks the word was supposed to mean hound or something like that. One phrase that Geralt did catch, as he’d heard it assigned to him once or twice before translated to ‘unlovable’.
Jaskier sat frozen through the tirade and when Geralt rounded the table, he found Jaskier’s eyes to be far more full of wrath and pain than it ought to for someone who had just won a game against a rival.
His face schooled into a triumphant grin, though there was still a sheen of sadness in his eyes. “Your card, Geralt.”
Geralt took it gently, sliding out his deck into order to tuck it away. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, if I lost I was thinking of just stabbing him and making a run for it,” Jaskier waved a hand.
“It’s not that important,” Geralt insisted, ten minutes later as they readied for bed. “It wasn’t worth risking your lute. If you’d lost it. It’s more precious to you than everything, else you’ve said so yourself.”
Jaskier looked up from folding his doublet and smiled, not his cheeky performance grins but a small, genuine thing. “Not everything. Now,” he sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots, “may I see the card I won from Marx in what is going to be immortalized into an incredibly epic song as soon as I come up with a rhyme for ‘thrice broken nose’?”
Geralt took it out and handed it over.
It was a fairly new card for the Northern Kingdoms deck. An ashen haired little girl pouted in a frilly pink dress, clearly displeased at being painted.
“Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Princess of Cintra,” Jaskier read. He handed back the card but his hand hovered, as if he might reach out for Geralt’s shoulder or even his cheek. “Yes, this is something worth taking a risk for, no question. …15 points and all,” he said after a moment, when he realized Geralt wasn’t responded. “Course I missed the opportunity of stabbing Marx, but I’ve no doubt the chance will arise again someday.” He laid down and stared at the ceiling.
“Jaskier,” Geralt began, finding his words dry up when those beautiful (when did he start thinking of Jaskier’s eyes as beautiful?) blue eyes blinked up at him. “I… th- you played well.”
A pleased and nearly shy look came over Jaskier’s face. “I know how much you enjoy it. Just wanted to be sure I’d be a worthy opponent for you, dearest witcher.” He stared at Geralt a moment longer, as if looking for something in his face. He shook his head slightly as if coming out of a dream. “Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier turned and faced the wall.
“Hmm,” Geralt hummed as he laid down, facing the opposite wall. “Goodnight. Jaskier.”
4. Sailing
Geralt surveyed the people sitting around the table and frowned to notice one missing. “Where’s Jaskier?”
“Went fishing,” Eskel said off hand, jumping right back into his conversation with Coën.
“He what?”
Lambert looked up from his gwent match with Ciri, “He took my boat and went fishing. Said he wouldn’t be much help in a hunt, but this way he wouldn’t be and I quote, ‘useless’ and he could be a ‘worthy winter companion’.”
Geralt winced. He’d apologized for his harsh words on the mountain and Jaskier had forgiven him. But it seems some of the hurt from that day still lingered.
“Where did he go?”
Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look.
“I don’t know his coordinates,” Lambert answered.
“Dammit!” Geralt barely kept himself from hitting the table; he didn’t want to scare Ciri, who had put her cards down and was watching the scene with interest. “You know what’s out there. Drowners and bears and I’m not sure we entirely destroyed that harpy nest from last winter and-“
“And he assured us he could handle it,” Eskel said.
Geralt growled. “He’s human! He could get hurt.”
Coën piped up at last. “Jaskier went north from the lakeside hut.” When all eyes turned to him, Coën shrugged, “He wanted to know where the good fishing spots are. I told him.”
Spinning on his heel, Geralt headed for the door to the keep, grabbing a silver sword from a rack of them on the way. He had a location and a direction. He could pick up Jaskier’s scent from there.
Geralt hadn’t bothered to grab a coat and the winter winds bit through his leather and linen clothes almost immediately. It didn’t matter. Jaskier had been alone in the wilds for who knows how long and even without the monsters and the beasts, there were dangers. The bard could overbalance and tumble into the icy waters. What if he hadn’t thought to grab warmer clothes? Geralt picked up speed, wishing he’d thought to bring Roach. Wishing he’d thought about anything other than running to get to Jaskier and…
And he wasn’t sure what would happen after. He just… needed to know that Jaskier was all right. That he was safe. He hadn’t been safe, Geralt sighed to himself as he ran, after Geralt had snapped at him.
Geralt was sure it was just another spat; that he’d arrive back at camp and Jaskier would be there very pointedly writing a song about a heartless cad who was mean to his very best friend in the whole wide world. Jaskier had a good half dozen songs like it already, this would be one more.
Only he wasn’t there. Geralt arrived to find Roach eating the last of the apples Jaskier had packed just for her and giving Geralt a very judgmental look. “Leave off,” he growled at her as he packed up what was left and led her down the mountain. “We’ll pick him up in town and you two can whisper about how mean I am.”
But Jaskier wasn’t in town either. Nor could anyone say which way he went. Geralt cursed then like he cursed now, seeing the roof of the hut by the lake and yet no sign of Jaskier.
Bad things happened when Jaskier went off alone. Geralt shook his head to rid himself of the image of Jaskier, strung up by his hands, those beautiful talented livelihood-making hands threatened and Jaskier said nothing, gave no secrets away. Some because he didn’t know and some because he…
Geralt doesn’t know why Jaskier didn’t break, except he does. The man is brave, he’s stupid and criminally loud, but he is also the most loyal man Geralt has ever known. Steel dressed in silk.
Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Geralt picked up Jaskier’s scent. It’s his soap and sweat and Geralt knows it like he knows his own.
Jaskier has the only boat and Geralt doesn’t fancy a swim, so he sticks to the shoreline, eyes casting about for any signs of danger or Jaskier.
Geralt very specifically tries to avoid thinking about danger AND Jaskier, which means that is all his brain will show him. Images of Jaskier surrounded by drowners, of a boat floating listlessly because the man at the rudder had been torn to pieces by harpies, a bear raising its blood-covered maw with a scrap of bright fabric caught in its teeth.
The last thing he’s thinking is that he will come upon Jaskier peacefully hauling a net of fish into the boat, adding the larger ones to a bucket next to him. So of course, that’s how the story goes.
“Geralt?” Jaskier called, eyes as round and surprised as the fish wriggling its last throes in his hands. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”
Jaskier dropped the net thoughtlessly onto the boat’s hull and with a series of quick and efficient movements, had the boat floating over to where Geralt stood on the shore. The bard hopped over the side and hurried to Geralt, hands twitching as if he wanted to check the witcher over for any injuries. “Geralt?”
“What the hell were you thinking?”
A frown coming to rest on his face, Jaskier put his hands on his slim hips. “What was I thinking? What were you thinking? You’re going to catch your death without a coat, yes I know,” he said as Geralt opened his mouth, “witchers can’t catch colds, immune systems, mutagens, blah blah,” he went back to the boat and finished sorting the fish, “blah. What could possibly have happened that you hurried all the way from Kaer Morhen without so much as a single piece of armour or a cloak?” He turned, suddenly serious. “Is everyone all right? Is Ciri all right? She’s not ill, is she? Did she take a tumble on the training course?”
Touched by how much Jaskier cares about Ciri, despite having known her a relatively short time, Geralt shook his head. “She’s fine. Everyone is fine.”
“Then what in the name of Meletile, Freya and any other four gods you would care to name are you doing here?”
Geralt wished he’d spent less time thinking about the past and more time thinking about the future as he ran. He’s starting to get used to that feeling in general. “You weren’t there.”
Jaskier’s eyes widened, then softened. “Surely someone told you I’d gone fishing? I let everyone know. I didn’t,” he smiled sardonically, “think you’d even notice.”
“Why?”
Head tilted like a puppy, Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Why did I go fishing or why did I think you wouldn’t notice? I went fishing because everyone does something at Kaer Morhen. I don’t,” he sighed, “have anything but music to offer and I’m well aware of your opinions on that. I assume your fellow witchers share them and also your witcher hearing, hence my lute case gathers dust. I do, however, know how to sail a boat, catch some fish, and cook said fish. So I thought I would make myself useful. As for you not noticing, well, I’m hardly your first priority here and,” he quickly added, “I understand completely. I shouldn’t be. Ciri comes first, always, of course. Hell, I wasn’t your first priority when we traveled together. Roach was. Speaking of, where is she? You couldn’t have tied her up too far away now.” Jaskier looked at the tree line as if a large mare would suddenly appear.
“I… didn’t bring her,” Geralt said, shame slowly rising in him at Jaskier’s words. Geralt couldn’t refute any of them. He hadn’t noticed the lack of music, assuming Jaskier still played in his room. As for when they travelled together, it hurt deep in Geralt’s gut that Jaskier thought he wasn’t a priority to Geralt. His words were often harsh, but Geralt made sure Jaskier had enough food and hunted more to ensure that he would. He bought Jaskier a warmer, if less stylish, cloak that had seen the bard through most of his twenties.
Jaskier had hefted a bucket of fish in his arms and just stared blankly at Geralt. “You… didn’t bring Roach? You, what, walked all the way here?”
Geralt’s eye twitched. “I ran.”
“For Meletile’s sake, why?”
“There’s…” Geralt cleared his throat, “drowners around. Sometimes. And bears. There might be some harpies left over from a nest we destroyed last winter.”
Jaskier settled the bucket back into the boat. “Were you… worried about me?”
Geralt nodded. Words were awkward and he wished to use as few as possible.
A look not unlike something like wonder crossed Jaskier’s face. “Oh. I… oh. I’m,” he spread his arms as if presenting himself, “fine. As you see. I… guess we should head back.” He gestured towards the boat. “I’ve a decently sized haul. I can make use of this for a while.” Jaskier stood in the shallow water, “Climb on in, and I’ll take us back.”
Geralt didn’t move.
“Oh,” Jaskier looked abashed. “Unless you’d prefer to steer?”
“No,” Geralt shook his head. “You can steer.”
He could. As Geralt had seen, Jaskier clearly knew his way not only around fishery, but sailing.
Jaskier nodded again to the boat and Geralt stepped in, settling at the bow.
Proving him right, Jaskier shoved them into the water and hauled himself over the side, quickly settling at the rudder and turning them around to head back towards Kaer Morhen.
Geralt cast a glance into the bucket of fish, seeing a few other smaller ones surrounding it. Several fish stared unblinkingly at Geralt as he stared back.
Jaskier hummed then cut himself off when he realized he was doing so, with a nervous glance at Geralt.
He wanted to say something. Tell Jaskier the humming was fine with him. That he should get out his lute and play for them. That Geralt wanted to hear his music, his voice. That the fillingless pie comment all those years ago hadn’t been a slight to Jaskier’s singing but the content of his songs, so many full of dirty humour or exaggerated lies.
All he could manage was “You sail good.”
Staring just as wide-eyed and unblinking as the fish, Jaskier slowly said, “Thank… you… I, uh,” he looked back at the water, “grew up on the coast. Been sailing since I was strong enough to move a rudder. Fishing even longer.”
“Why didn’t you fish that day? You could have caught your own.” Geralt winced as his words were said. Jaskier wasn’t focusing on that day with the djinn. He’d need to be specific.
But Jaskier was already answering, “I was heartbroken and near blind drunk,” he laughed, light and slightly forced. “I’d have fallen in as soon as I bent over to grab the net, hence why I was hoping you would share your haul.” He pursed his lips. “Rather wish I hadn’t, looking back.”
Geralt found himself stuck for words again. They came easy with his brothers in arms. Even with Ciri, he found himself managing to find words of comfort or encouragement when it seemed she needed them.
But Jaskier had always made things complicated for Geralt, since the day they’d met. He could annoy Geralt like nobody and nothing else; Jaskier got himself into trouble on a fairly regular basis, was fussy about his clothes and hair, and could talk the hind legs off a donkey while never saying a blessed thing of worth.
But damn if Geralt didn’t want him there, in all his messy and loud glory. He wanted Jaskier safe and, as recent events had shown, Jaskier was safest at Geralt’s side, because Geralt would move heaven and earth, call upon any help and damn the cost, to keep Jaskier so.
Geralt was in love with Jaskier. The revelation felt both sudden and slow at once. Like he’d been falling in love so quietly and steadily, there was no way to point to the day or hour that he’d actually fallen.
“Fuck.”
Jaskier, lost in daydreams, started. “What’s the matter now?”
“I,” Geralt scrambled for something to say. Should he tell Jaskier he loved him? No, that was absurd. Jaskier, for all his lingering stares and the near constant scent of lust that used to surround him, didn’t love Geralt as more than a friend, if that. Lust was not love, Geralt knew that well. He was with him for the songs and the safety. Sure, Jaskier cared for Geralt, he said it often enough, but he didn’t love him. Like how Geralt was realizing he loved Jaskier.
Who was staring at him expectantly.
At least this time, Geralt kept his annoyed at himself ‘fuck’ inside his head. “I was thinking of all the times we could have taken the river, instead of the roads.” He found words, though he wasn’t sure they were the right ones. “If I’d known you could sail. We could have… sailed. Before now.”
Jaskier dropped his eyes to the bottom of the boat, then turned away as if needing to check where he was going, as if he hadn’t been steering blind for the past several minutes, instinctive. “Ah. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you. Though we weren’t often by the,” a slight hesitation, “the coast.”
“You’re doing very well.” Geralt twitched his lips into as big a smile as he could manage and still felt it came up short.
But Jaskier’s visible cheek rose in a smile. “Thank you, Geralt.”
5. Sword Fighting
A whirl of light green and silver flashed from Geralt’s side, a movement near dancelike in its fluidity, accompanied by a whisper that sounded almost like counting.
Geralt turned just in time to see the bandit’s surprised face before his cleaved straight through torso fell, leaving the remains of his trunk and his lower body to fall to the ground a couple seconds after his head and shoulders had.
Jaskier stood behind the now deceased bandit, blood splattered all over his outfit and his face, still twisted into a mask of wrath. The sword in his hand was red with blood, silver glinting through the drops.
Geralt thinks it’s possible he has never been so turned on in his whole life and he’s going to have a good long talk with himself about why that might be later on.
The moment passed and Jaskier lowered the sword, wiping it on the deserter’s trousers. “Oh blast, sorry about that Geralt, I’ll clean all the blood off properly once we get back to camp. No worries. I know it’s silver for monsters,” he sneered at the dead man and then at the others who had foolishly decided to try to rob a witcher and his companion, “but I rather think it’s still apt. I’ll pay for the repair at the next blacksmith we come across if I damaged it too much.” He held the blade at eye level and examined it. “I think it’s mostly all right and Geralt are you okay? They didn’t manage to knock you in the head, did they? You’ve been staring at me for the past few minutes.”
Geralt was trying to sear the image of Jaskier looking over the blade as if, as if he KNOWS what to look for in a damaged sword. A sword he had used to kill a man creeping up on Geralt. A sword he had welded with deadly and graceful precision. Geralt’s own sword.
A very, very long talk. Possibly in the cold stream they’d just come from before they’d been ambushed.
Jaskier leaned past Geralt to sheathe the sword into its place across the witcher’s back and the spicy smell of anger had dissipated completely into Jaskier’s usual chamomile and honey concern scent. Underlaid by the copper of the blood.
It took a good deal of self-discipline for Geralt to not outright whine when Jaskier laid a warm hand on his cheek, tilting his head to check for injuries.
“Your pupils are very round, darling,” Jaskier said, the endearment he used so often sounded like music to Geralt. “Are you injured? I could grab you a potion if you are. Or maybe you’re just tired.” Jaskier dropped his hand and turned back to where they had laid down their belongings when the first men broke through the cover of the trees, using speed and surprise over strategy.
Geralt was sure he’d had them all until… until Jaskier killed the man who had managed to sneak up on him. Who would have put a sword through Geralt if not for Jaskier’s quick action and Geralt circled back to the image of Jaskier, bloody and snarling like a feral animal as he cut the man down with no hesitation.
A very, very long talk in a very, very cold stream.
Jaskier whistled and Roach came from her hiding spot in the trees. He patted her neck and dug through her saddlebags. “Geralt, are you out of Swallow? We have the spirit and the celandine but I think we might need to head towards the coast so you can cut down some drowners for their brains.” He smiled brightly. “Maybe they’ll be a contract for them as well. And a tavern that appreciates fine music. We could have a va- a very nice day. Or two.” Jaskier ducked his head and pink bloomed in his cheeks.
Geralt found his hand lifting of its own accord and landing on Jaskier’s shoulder.
The bard turned expectantly, then frowned when after a moment Geralt didn’t say or do anything else. “Geralt?” His voice was soft, the scent of his concern drew stronger. “Geralt, are you sure you’re okay? You seem stunned or something. Are you sure you didn’t take a hit to the head?”
“Sword,” Geralt said at last.
“He speaks,” Jaskier smiled briefly. “He speaks nonsense, but he speaks. What about a sword? I already told you I’d take care of any repairs needed after my impromptu maneuver. I don’t think there’s any permanent damage done. It wasn’t even that difficult. You have very good moves, dear.”
Geralt blinked as he realized where he’d seen the move Jaskier had performed. It was one he’d been taught at the School of The Wolf. Jaskier used one of Geralt’s own moves. One of his Witcher moves. To save his life. “That was… that was a witcher move. How did you…” he couldn’t even finish his question.
Jaskier shrugged. “I’ve followed you for over two decades, Geralt. On and off, sure, but still. I’ve seen you fight nearly every creature you could come across. Including bastards like those,” he nonchalantly tossed his head towards the dead men on the ground, his fringe flicking back into his eyes boyishly. “I memorized the moves you use. Granted, I’ve mostly practiced on training dummies and sparring partners, but I’ve run across my fair share of evil and desperate men before.”
“That… wasn’t your first kill?”
“Gods no,” Jaskier tilted his head and scrunched up his nose as he calculated. “Maybe my… dozenth? Or so. Now I tried not to pick up a sword unless necessary but that gutless bastard,” he spit at the man’s bisected body, “was in your blind spot. You probably would have managed to parry, but I didn’t want to take the chance.” Jaskier smiled. “Good thing too, now that we know you’re out of Swallow. Here,” he held out a canteen of water, “drink this. Get your strength back.”
Geralt took the canteen and drank slowly to give himself time to readjust his worldview on Jaskier. “Did you… count? When you were…”
Jaskier nodded. “Oh yes. Your movements are so like a dancer’s that I memorized them to a beat.” He smirked. “I’ll make a ballad out of them some day. I’m still in the habit of the counting, but eventually I’ll stop needing that, I suppose.”
“Right,” Geralt said, nodding as if he wasn’t imaging Jaskier, in plain shirt and tight trousers, sparring with Geralt on the grounds of Kaer Morhen. A blink and it was a different kind of sparring. In a bedroom. “Huh.”
“Well,” Jaskier said, as he dug back through the saddlebag, “there’s some White Raffard’s if push comes to shove. Makes sense after that last nest of nekkars. Frightful creatures by the way, possibly my least favourite of them all. Though you’re low on White Honey as well, so hopefully we can find a herbalist and stock up a bit before you have to do any major fighting. ”I’m glad now that I all but raided Oxenfurt’s gardens before I joined you for Spring. Got plenty of honeysuckle in my bag and I’m sure we can find some white myrtle with no problem this time of year. Where’s your alcohest, dear? I’m sure Lambert didn’t let you leave Kaer Morhen without every type of spirit known to man.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt said, unable to take it anymore. “We need to get back to camp.”
Jaskier whirled around and looked at Geralt then up at the sky, the sun slowly descending in the late afternoon light. “Oh you’re right. Best head back now before we lose the light. Pity we had to have that fight after the nice splash we’d had in that stream. Do you think there’s time to wash again before we head back?”
Geralt nodded. “Yes. Let’s do that first, getting clean again. That’s a very, very good idea.”
“Hmm,” Jaskier hummed, “I didn’t expect that answer from Mr Uses Monster Guts As Shampoo.”
“We’re going to need to get very clean,” Geralt said, “because as soon as we get back to camp I am going to fuck you.”
Jaskier froze. “Whaaaat did you just say? Geralt, I think I misheard you.”
Geralt shrugged. “Or you can fuck me. After seeing you fight like that, I’m letting you choose how we do it.”
“Seeing me fight.” Jaskier opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find which of the many words he had at his disposal he wished to use.
“Or I could just suck you off, if you’d prefer that instead.”
“Geralt of Rivia. Geralt… Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde and I have never been more grateful for the night Vesemir got drunk and shared stories of your youth, I need you to be very, very serious about that offer.” Jaskier licked his lips. “Because I would very much like to take you up on it and if… if it’s just for the night, I don’t rightly think we should risk our… ye gods, you’ve never even called me your friend and here you are offering sex as if… is this just because you feel obligated? I’m sure you would have moved just in time but I couldn’t risk letting that man hurt you and-“
Geralt reached out and pulled Jaskier close, which shut the bard up. A trick Geralt was wishing he’d let himself try before. “I am very serious. If you want it to be for the night, it’s just for the night. It could be a more… formal arrangement if you’d prefer that.”
Jaskier dropped his head to Geralt’s shoulder and breathed out heavily. “I died, didn’t I? I misjudged the distance and the bandit killed me and this is heaven. I didn’t think I’d go to heaven. Huh.”
“Not dead,” Geralt said, lifting a hand to thread through Jaskier’s hair. “Not letting you die. Ever. Especially now that I know how well you fight. You’re living just as long as I am. Don’t know how. I’ll ask Yen, maybe she’ll know of some-“
“Okay,” Jaskier took a step back. “Now, now you’re just being… you want to ask Yennefer, a very very scary witch that you sleep with on the regular-“
Geralt shrugged. “Going to have to stop that now that I have you.”
A high-pitched whine issued from Jaskier’s throat. “I’m going to need you to stop saying things like that if you don’t mean them… how I… ho- expe- think you mean them.”
“I mean them how you think I mean them,” Geralt said. “Most likely. I mean that I would very much like to take you back to our camp and check at least a few things off the mental list of sexual acts we’ve both been compiling right now.”
Jaskier squeaked, “Both?”
Geralt nodded. “I would very much like to do so tomorrow night and for as many nights as you want me. And to extend your allotment of nights somehow. Yennefer has been searching arcane magic things for decades, surely she’s found some anti-ageing or immortality spell by this point. She wouldn’t have needed it, but I’m sure she would have made note of any.”
“Sure she can’t make me younger before she does that?’ Jaskier asked, relying on humour to help him deal with the inrush of information he was being given.
Tilting his head, Geralt looked Jaskier over very thoroughly, noting with some satisfaction what effect his assessing stare had on the state of Jaskier’s trousers. “I like you as you are now. Not the whelp that followed me when It was stupid and dangerous. You’re a grown man now. You’ve filled out. I like how you look.”
Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “Pardon me if this all seems very sudden.”
“Not sudden,” Geralt said. “I’ve liked how you looked for years.”
“You never said anything.”
Geralt smirked slightly. “I know you’ve lusted for me. I can smell arousal. You never said anything either.”
Jaskier flailed again. “You didn’t consider me your friend, so forgive me for assuming ‘Hey Geralt, you’re the most bloody gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my whole life would you like to bed me and then marry me’ wouldn’t go down very well.”
“I thought,” Geralt started, “you only wanted to follow me for the songs. For the fame and coin it earns you. It’s why you started following me.”
Struck speechless, Jaskier just stared.
Geralt continued. “I’ve thought of you as my friend, but I didn’t think you thought of me as yours. Until you saved me. Until you learned how I fight in case you ever needed to save me. Until you knew what my potions do and which ones they are. All the little things you’ve done for me throughout the years make sense now. I know friendship. That’s not friendship; it’s love.”
“I have loved you since,” Jaskier waved a hand theatrically, “since you told the elves to let me go. Since you let me stay with you even though you could have outrun me easily on Roach. You hunted enough for two and laid our bedrolls close so I wouldn’t freeze on cold nights and especially after the mountain, you’ve barely let me out of your sight and… oh my gods, I am thick, aren’t I? I am so thick! I am Mr. Thick Thick Thickety Thickface from Thicktown, Thickania. You don’t talk, you do. That was your way of… of… saying how you feel. Isn’t it?”
Geralt hummed and nodded.
Jaskier’s smile could have outshone the lovely sunset happening somewhere behind them. “You love me. Geralt, you… love me. Like I love you. Oh my gods, are you sure I’m not dead? Or having the most wonderful dream? This is real,” he took a step closer and reached out cautiously to pull Geralt into his arms. “This is real, right?”
“It’s real,” Geralt nodded again.
A laugh bubbled out of Jaskier, eliciting a smaller but no less sincere one from Geralt. “If I wasn’t covered in blood, I would be kissing you alre-“
Geralt leaned in and pressed their lips together, relishing the happy gasp Jaskier made against his mouth. “Hmm, I’m bloody too.”
Jaskier kissed Geralt, a small peck and then another. “Where was that stream again?”
Geralt pulled back and took Jaskier’s hand, guiding him in the dimming light. “I won’t be bedding you and then marrying you,” he said.
Confusion scrunched up Jaskier’s face before he realized what he had said before. “Oh bollocks, I didn’t mean that- necessarily- I don’t- where would we find a priest or priestess any- I wasn’t suggesting-”
“We have to have some courting time before we should even think about marrying,” Geralt continued. “it’s only proper.”
“Right,” Jaskier nodded so fast, it was a miracle his head didn’t fly away. “Right, right, right, right. Of course, of course, of course. Proper… proper courting. Geralt?” he asked as they arrived at the stream. “I love you. I just… can I say that now? Because I’ve wanted to say it so many times and I’ve been biting it back for years and I just… I just love you.”
Geralt smiled. “I love you too.”
+1
Wow,” Geralt said, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s how you manage to get away with those abysmal pickup lines. I mean… wow.” His heart was racing so fast it almost sounded human after the passionate, athletic and frankly innovative sex they’d just had. "I always did think it would be good."
He didn’t need to turn to see Jaskier’s smug smile, but he did anyway.
Jaskier’s grin was wide and stretched his cheeks even higher than normal. He tossed his sweaty fringe out of his face and kissed Geralt, deeply, slowly, perfectly. “You’re welcome.”
99 notes · View notes
officialwittek · 3 years
Text
pt. 3
Tumblr media
*gif is not mine* 
word count: 2,454
8:00 am.
The ringing of my alarm clock wakes me from my sleep. I grab my phone and scroll through the notifications. I look at the time and decide to get my nails done today, I call all my girl friends and ask if they want me to set an appointment for them to. Carly, Corinna and Erin agree, Natalie and Mariah were busy at the moment. I text them to meet at the apartment and call the nail salon. Thankfully they were open for 2 manicures, 2 full sets, and 4 pedicures.
I hop in the shower and rinse off before starting to do some simple makeup. Instead of my usual falsies I just curl my lashes and put some mascara on. I get dressed in a light blue tank top, a white cropped cardigan, and black yoga flared yoga pants with my white Air Forces. I went to the front door and unlocked it so Corinna and Erin could walk right in. I made some coffee and some tea for myself. After about 15 minutes Corinna and Erin showed up. Carly finished getting ready and we hopped into my car. Carly and Erin started vlogging while I quietly sang along to the music.
We finally got there and checked in. I showed the nail technician the photo, I got a medium length coffin shape with a glitter ombre. After about 2 hours our nails were finally done and we headed to get lunch with Nat, Zane, Todd, and Jeff. We grabbed a table at Olive Garden. Jeff “coincidentally” chooses the seat next to me. Jeff and I had always been touchy with each other, so it was no surprise when he instinctively puts his arm around my shoulder. I still felt bad about the other night, but I was fed up and drunk.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole. I understand that it was sort of a dick move to kiss you while I was drunk” I whisper, he looks at me in surprise and smiles
“I got my girl back” He exclaims, hugging me tightly as I laugh
We eat our lunch in relative peace, a few loud moments here and there. After lunch with everyone we decide to head to David’s house. Jeff, Carly, Corinna and Erin came in my car. We drove to David’s house blasting music with the windows rolled down. Our 20 minute journey ended and I parked my car. Corinna, Carly, and Erin exited to give Jeff and I some time to talk.
“Listen I’m sorry about snapping at you last night. I was drunk and upset. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. But please talk to me as soon as I put you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable. I just hate being ignored, especially by you. Do you forgive me?” I ask, holding my hands out and he quickly hugged me
“You’re right. I should’ve talked to you. It was unfair of me to leave you hanging” Jeff replies, pressing a kiss to the top of my head
“Now, I got my dick grabbers done. Let’s test it” I joke, his loud laughs ring through my car as I unbuckle my seatbelt
The two of us enter the house and Jeff quickly runs to David to tell him what I said. I knew from the wide smile slowly making it’s way across David’s face. He grabs his camera and quickly runs to me.
“Sage why are you so horny all the time? And please tell me you don’t actually call your nails dick grabbers.” He says, I shove my hand in the camera and laugh loudly
“I’m only horny for Jeff get it right bitch” I reply sassily, David laughs loudly and walks away to film some other bets
“Maybe I should make my own channel” I joke, Corinna quickly whips around and screams
“YES PLEASE!! YOU CAN UPLOAD COVERS AND EVERYTHING. I WANNA BE YOUR FIRST SUBSCRIBER” she yells, catching everyone’s attention
“I’ll literally buy you a camera right now” David says, my eyes go wide and I quickly nod
We all pile into our cars and run to Best Buy. David and all our friends walk me through everything. I grab a Canon EOS M50 camera and a tripod for now. I had music equipment at the apartment. David pays for my things as my friends endlessly talk about what kind of videos I should make. Ranging from get ready with me, vlogs when I go to the studio, covers, styling videos, and the occasional challenge. I choose to start with one cover, one get ready with me, and one vlog a week. All our friends offered to teach me everything having to do with running a successful YouTube challenge. We clear the podcast room and have a makeshift recording session. I quickly scroll through my phone and find a song. ‘Gut Feeling’ by Ella Mai ft. H.E.R
‘Something in the walls
Something in your walk looks different
Something deep inside
Got me wondering why I don't understand
Why I can't put my finger on what the fuck is up
What's missing?
You're distant, and I'm spinning...’
“I’m literally speechless because I forget you can sing” Todd comments, my friends clapping
“Private gig! Private gig!” Zane chants, I roll my eyes playfully and put my playlist of my favorite songs on shuffle
After singing for my friends for about 15 minutes we decide it’s time to get ready to go out. David thought it would be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone today, throw a party for me to celebrate me signing with a label and getting content out of our dumbasses. The girls and I squeeze into my car and head to my apartment to get ready.
“Oh my god Corinna I’m so fucking you tonight” I say, watching her try on one of my dresses
“Good, I’ve been alone for too long” she replies, I wink at her and pick out an outfit for Natalie while Carly and Erin raid Carly’s closet
“Nat this is so perfect for you” Corinna compliments, I agree with a nod and go to pick an outfit
I settle on something a little more comfortable since I’m pretty known to blackout easily. I decide on a red spaghetti strap crop top, a white pleated skirt, and my red and white old school Vans with a slightly oversized leather jacket. Natalie, Corinna, and I work on our hair and makeup. I decide on my usual look with my hair in a ponytail. After about an hour we head back to David’s to pregame.
We take shots and I’m pretty tipsy by the time we all get in David’s Tesla. I find my seat on Jeff’s lap. We loudly sing along to David’s music on the way to the club. We all get in and head to the section that David got us. Zane, Toddy, and I instantly gravitate towards the bottles already there. The loud music making me ready to act a fool for David’s vlog. After another three rounds of shots I become one with the music.
“Where the fuck am I?” I joke loudly, somehow I ended up on the floor while Zane danced on me and I smacked his ass
“Ow you bitch” He slurs, I laugh and Todd helps me off the ground
“OHH SAGE” Corinna yells, and there it is.. the familiar beat to ‘Back That Azz Up’
Corinna instantly gets behind me while I twerk on her. Everyone in our section forming a circle. I spot Natalie on the couch and I walk over to her before giving her a lap dance. David films her reaction while Jason hands her a bunch of singles. She throws it on me while I dance. The mixture of alcohol and music making me lose myself. The song ends and I’m a little sad. Although the universe instantly answers my prayers and I hear the beginning to ‘Panoramic’. This time I decide to dance with Jeff.
“You ready bub?” I ask, he looks at me nervously
“Huh? Oh my-” Jeff replies, I bend over and start dancing again
After a few seconds he quickly finds himself dancing with me as best as he can. Our friends scream as he gains confidence. He pulls me up by my neck, leaving a hand there as he pours the vodka in my mouth. I swallow and turn so Corinna can grind on me. I feel someone behind me and turn to see Natalie. The three of us forming a chain. Which we keep up depending on the song. After two hours David taps me on the shoulder
“Alright guys, let’s go back to my place. It’s getting a little stuffy in here” I nod and hand Jeff my things
I find myself in the passenger seat. Never a good thing in David’s vlogs. Somehow Zane had walked out with a full bottle of vodka and we were all passing it around. Before driving David turns his camera on and I’m too drunk to listen to reason
“David.. I’m so drunk” I yell above the music, he laughs and turns the camera so I’m more in view
“Is there anything we should ask Sage since I think she’s the most drunk here” David says, turning the music down as our friends fall quiet to think
“Sage what are your thoughts on Jeff getting a boner after you danced on him” Mariah asks, I laugh loudly and hiccup
“My thoughts? Head empty, no thoughts” I reply, they laugh and continue asking me questions
“Sage if you were a man for a day what would you do?” Jason asks, also recording me
“Dude I’d honestly try to have a threesome with Natalie and Corinna” I reply, he laughs before replying
“You try to do that now” He says, our friends laughing loudly
The car ride seems like it went on forever. Finally we ended up at David’s house, I quickly run to the fridge and grab water. Wanting to sober up a little bit because I felt too out of control of my body. I chug the water and throw the empty bottle into the recycling bin. Jeff walks over to me and hugs me from behind. I smile lazily and sway to the music David is playing.
“Can we get DoorDash please” I whine, the group instantly nods while Jeff and I walk over to the group
“Get a room you two” Carly jokes, watching me cling onto Jeff while he sat me down
“I fucking wish” I say, quietly sipping my water as Natalie takes everyone’s McDonald’s orders
I decided on a 20 piece chicken mcnuggets with sweet and sour sauce and a Sprite. I blush as Jeff’s hands find themselves on my thigh. It’s no secret that I’m high key attracted to Jeff, but it recently started becoming real that I actually have a crush on my best friend. I realize that all the girls were looking at me and my face turned bright red. They shared looks before pulling me off the couch and taking me outside.
“You have a real fucking crush on Jeff don’t you” Mariah says, the girls crowd around me as I laugh
“I need a fucking joint, yes I do ok” I confess, they scream and jump around and I can already see the guys heading out to see what all the commotion is about
“What’s going on out here ladies?” Todd asks, wrapping his arms around Natalie and Jeff came next to me and thankfully it was pitch black and he couldn’t see the blush spreading across my face
“God I need to smoke so bad what the fuck is wrong with me” I mumble, Jeff hears me and pulls a preroll out of his pocket
“Let’s go, princess” He says, asking our other friends if they want to join, Zane and Todd agree and we sit on the couch outside and smoke a little bit
After we finished the pre-roll I head back over to the girls. We continue talking and they encourage me to talk to him about it. Apparently he has an actual crush on me too. I brush them off the but the substances in my system were giving me too much courage.
“No no... I’ll think about it when I’m sober” I say, they all agree and we go back into the house
“Ok guys I think I’m gonna head out” I say, I had a few more drinks with Zane and Heath so I was back to being drunk and a little high
“You are not driving home like this” Dave says, I nod and look around. Carly left a while ago since her and Erin had a meeting in the morning and I didn’t want to disturb her because I knew I would be loud when I got home
“I’ll take her, I should head out anyways” Jeff replies, I grin and collect my things and grab a water from the fridge for the road
“Can I stay over? I miss Nerf and I can’t go to my apartment since Carly has something important in the morning and I don’t want to disturb her” I say, he nods with a big smile
“Sure thing princess. We’ll stop by the store and grab some makeup remover and face wash” He said, driving to the nearest CVS
After our quick run to the store we finally arrived at his apartment. We got in and I walk over to the fridge and get a water. I hear Nerf’s claws on the floor and crouch down. After petting him for about five minutes Jeff comes out with a shirt and some boxers. I smile gratefully and head to the bathroom.
I take my makeup off and wash my face. I change into the shirt and boxers and head out. I make myself comfortable on the couch while Jeff changes. He walks out and shakes his head
“No, your back and neck are going to be sore. Just share the bed with me” He said, I look at him skeptically but nod
“Finally, thank god I shaved recently” I joke, he laughs loudly as he shuts the door
“I’m not that tired, you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, turning the TV on I nod and let him pick while I make myself comfortable with Nerf
Halfway through the movie I start drifting off, resting my head on Jeff’s chest.
“Goodnight princess” He said, pressing a kiss to my head before turning the movie off
“Goodnight.. I love you” I mumble, not noticing the look on Jeff’s face
56 notes · View notes
mr-smith-wesson · 3 years
Note
(Long-winded anon warning. Seriously if I’m annoying you with these just ignore my ramblings). Ok, so I just found out that five years pass between 15x19 and 15x20, which got me super excited because as much fun as Jensen’s “put us back in coach” idea is, we don’t really need it. We have five years of stuff that could be explored where it is just the boys and Miracle. How fucking awesome would that be? Like to see the firsts of everything that they get to do without Chuck’s interference, where they know that it’s their choices, their decisions, their genuine experiences. Their first take-your-pick holiday, birthdays, date, dance, etc. The first time they get to watch a movie, read a book, listen to music and know that yeah, they do like it or no, nope, not anymore, and it’s them. The first time they realize that they are actually fucking amazing at hunting without a divine puppet master pulling the strings. The first time they eat food and poor Dean realizes that Sam weird, unnatural, completely inhuman if you ask him; hatred for bacon was all Sam and not Chuck. “It’s just damn unsettling, Sam. Damn unsettling.”
(I can’t find any information on when 15x19 would have occurred, so I’m going to pretend that it’s before July 4th.) Just think that after watching Jack walk away, seeing life restored on Earth, and getting food/supplies for Miracle, the boys head out in Baby for an open field. There, they just sit and listen to life. They play fetch with their newest addition until the sun goes down, and then they hop up on the hood of the impala and watch the stars. For the first time in their lives, it’s THEIR lives. They’ll deal with all the repercussions of that revelation soon, but for tonight they just sit for hours and watch the night sky. In fact, they stay out there so long that before they know it, the sun is rising, the beer has gotten warm, Miracle is snoring in the driver’s seat (don’t get comfy there, buddy), and their asses are numb from sitting on the hood for like six hours. They gather up their stuff and head home, and the only thing they have to think about right now is what they’ll do for supper tonight. There are no plans. No one is telling them what to do or, worse yet, making them do something. They aren’t pawns on the chessboard anymore. Everything from here on out is them. And that is great and so. So. Fucking. Scary. What if Sam actually does want leave me and back to school? What if Dean honestly does think I’m a freak? How much of our bullshit was our bullshit, and how much was Chuck? And do we, or this city, have enough booze to get us through the upcoming chick-flick-feeling-vomit-pass-the-tissue moments? (“What if I’m actually like just an angry, fuck the world guy Sam? What if I’m really just that person that isn’t good to be around people? What if…what if I’m actually like a secret cuddler or something?” “You’re not, you’re the best person I have ever known, and I promise I’ll let you be the big spoon like 43% of the time.” “You’re a fucking asshole, Sam. Stop laughing. Stop it!”)
The talks do come, and while they are not pleasant and do result in quite a few “I need to go shoot something” moments from Dean and more than a few “I just need to some time Dee. I’m just going to go for a run,” moments from Sam, they are needed. And so. Fucking. Cathartic! And by the time July 4th rolls around, while they are not entirely 100%, they are better than they’ve been in a really long time, maybe forever. They decide to celebrate their independence in style – BBQ, fireworks, sparklers, a fancy little bowtie for the dog (“What, Sam?! They were on sale. Don’t give me that side-eye.”), and a bottle of Bobby’s favourite whisky. While Sam leaves Dean to buy the BBQ, Sam goes and gets the fireworks. He practically buys out the store, but whatever, they haven’t done this in so long, and Dean’s not the only one who remembers that 4th of July in ’96 and this display will kick that displays ass.
They get themselves supplied up, and two days’ time finds them in the field behind the bunker. Steak and hot dogs and veggie burgers cooking on the grill, Sam and Miracle chasing each other and playing tug of war with one of Miracles new toys (“What Dean?! He had already slobbered all over it. I couldn’t just leave it in the store. That would have been rude.”), and Dean just soaking it all in. Nothing has felt this right, and this complete since before Sam left for Stanford. Sure, they miss everyone they lost, and yes, they will “Pour one out for their homies,” (“No one says that anymore Dean.” “You’re just jealously that I’m still hip and cool, Sammy.” “Your Scooby-Doo boxers beg to differ.” “Hey! No dissing the Scoob.”) but God-damn, -hmm Jack-damn? This will take some getting used to- they are content. And that’s not something Dean ever thought he’d feel again. And while Chuck may have been the biggest dick to ever exist in this universe, if Dean gives a little prayer of thanks and drinks a drink to him, well no one has to know. He may have royally screwed over their lives time and time again but without him Dean wouldn’t have Sam. Chuck gave Dean his little brother and while he sure as shit won’t miss him, Dean will be eternally grateful because Sam, his Sammy, his beautiful baby brother, is the best fucking thing in his life and that deserves a toast.
The 4th of July is fantastic, and if Dean got a little teary-eyed over the fireworks, well, Sam doesn’t mention it. He just wrapped his arm around his brother and tugged him to his side. This was just the first of the celebrations they were going to have. While Sam’s life is never going to be apple-pie-2.5-kids-white-picket-fence normal, he had made a promise to himself that he was going to give Dean and him whatever normal he could. And that meant holidays. All of them. But those plans are for another night. For now, all Sam has to focus on is the warmth coming off his brother, who unsurprisingly hasn’t moved from under his arm (Dean being a cuddler is only a secret to him, everyone else knows.*) and the smile on his face. A smile that Sam hadn’t seen since that night in the field 24 years ago.
*(Sam has decided to not to tell Dean that he had been winning money off their friends and family for years betting people that when they had to bunk together Dean would always snuggle up some point during the night. At least he’s not going to tell him yet. However, he really does need to get a copy of those photos from Jody and Donna from the last overnight hunting trip.)
YES TO ALL OF THIS!!!! I’m with you 100% the years between are so much more interesting to me like what did they do all that time??AND THEM BEING FREE AND NAVIGATING THAT IS SUCH A CONCEPT. THIS IS JUST SO WONDERFUL! I WANT TO SEE ALL THE DOMESTICITY, THE FIGHTS THE GOOD AND THE BAD JUST EVERYTHING!!!! I LOVE THEM BEING DOG DADS... I HOPE TO SEE THEM SETTING OFF THE FIREWORKS IN MY DREAMS TONIGHT. JUST...THEM AND MIRACLE THEIR LITTLE FAMILY IS SO SWEET I COULDN’T BE MORE FOND. I LOVE HOW YOU MENTIONED SAM AND DEAN BEING AFRAID THE OTHER WILL LEAVE THATS MY FAVORITE ANGST. AND can I just say I never mind your asks I actually love them very much. This is all so in character I can see it so clearly I’m in awe. I will re-read this over and over. THANK YOU DEAR ANON  :D
28 notes · View notes
veryvincible · 3 years
Note
Hey! 👋🏼 I was looking at Tonys panel with Carol and his AA panels. It got me thinking how can a person like Tony .. who is an atheist, a believer of science and a confident engineer rely on AA which has a religious foundation (the 12 steps) and place so power on God. I know secular AA have different takes on it and encourage a personal definition of God as any higher power the person may choose. But doesn’t that defeat Tonys belief? Because I don’t think he believes in a higher power regardless if it’s a deity or not.
This is a wonderful question. There’s a lot of nuance to the answer, in my opinion, because I think there are some things called into question here that Tony (very realistically) treats with a lot of complexity.
Firstly, Tony’s atheism is kind of... I don’t want to say it’s up in the air, because at this point, I think it’s kind of made its place in canon and fanon both. But, most likely as a result of the times in which he was created, he has been shown in canon (at least in the early stages of his life) to follow some sort of organized religion. This is from Iron Man Vol. 1 #164, and it’s... not strong evidence for him being a spiritual man, as most people who call themselves “not that religious” tend to be religious by way of traditions, but. You know. It is what it is.
Tumblr media
Of course, we could dismiss this as yet another thing that early canon imposed on a character who wouldn’t be like that at this point in time, but I think it brings up interesting beats in the way Tony’s character has progressed over the years.
Considering him as someone who may have been raised as traditionally religious makes sense in the context of defining events, as well, given that we watch him pray the Lord’s prayer in #14 of Iron Man Vol. 4, one of his Civil War tie-ins.
Tumblr media
Given the proximity to the alcohol (and the point he’s at in the timeline, here), one could also easily assume that even if he had no religious background, the very presence of the Lord’s prayer in AA meetings could have formed a connection in his head between this “worship” and sobriety-- at the very least, enough of one that the prayer strengthens the effectiveness of his willpower. It seems the little push he needs to pour a drink down the drain is borderline Pavlovian.
There’s actually a lot of religious imagery in Tony comics in general. He’s a man with a suit facing conundrums of cosmic proportions. It’s difficult for him to keep rationale exclusively within the range of earthly probabilities.
Point is, his atheism doesn’t come from his disbelief in a higher power. It’s quite the contrary, actually. His atheism comes from a belief that there’s no single entity that could claim the title of God, that any being willing to try has, just by being, already forfeited the title.
Which is a fair assessment to make, given that he’s fought many people claiming to be Gods, and they’ve all bled. He’s also watched people worship Gods that turned out to not... really be Gods, whether they were otherworldly beings, his buddy Thor, or, uh, himself. The idea of him, at least. In space.
Because of course that happened.
But Tony actually does have a higher power to give himself up to in these meetings. In Civil War II #1, he very explicitly states it:
Tumblr media
“I respect the future. I believe in the future. I worship at its feet.”
“The Future” to him is something he can affect, certainly, but he’s aware of just how massive it is, just how massive all of time is compared to the few decades he’ll spend on earth. This is his higher power, his cosmic deity of choice.
It can’t bleed. It can’t falter. It’s inevitable.
And this mindset is... pretty in line with everything else he’s done. He’s referred to himself as a “necessary monster.” He’s implied many times over that he thinks he’s rotten and potentially dangerous, but he’s also intelligent and capable and he wants to do the right thing, even if he doesn’t always know what that is. 
If you’ve ever been in a religious environment, you’ll probably recognize his mindset going into any problem: there’s always a solution, always information he’s missing, always a “right choice” he’s looking for with a domino effect that’ll be as favorable as possible for future generations. He trusts in the future the way people trust in God, with an awareness that he’ll never have all the pieces to make sense of everything, but he can have enough information to act. And he must act, or else his worth, his right to be alive, even, is at stake.
So, needless to say, he’s not praying to a mainstream God. But religious imagery isn’t and has never been off-putting to him, and though he certainly could seek out unreligious (is that a word?) alternatives to AA, I find it hard to believe that he would, given just how influential his higher power of choice is as it guides him through life. He puts everything at stake for it, going so far as to make choices that will destroy not only himself, but also his relationships with his loved ones if it means he’s doing what he perceives to be the right thing.
Secondly, even if he were a man who had no belief in any form of higher power, not even a stand-in for it, AA still might not be something he’d discard in favor of an alternative.
Religion serves as a guide. Most often, it has “do”s and “do not”s, certain beliefs it supports, and a kind of... basic explanation of what human life is and how it should be treated. One of the more common threads among most religions that I’m aware of (I am not an expert in religious studies; please don’t @ me) is the idea that human life is generally sacred, and as such, people should treat each other with respect. Yes, some texts can contradict this, but the general rule is “be nice to each other!” when you really look at the basics of what people are trying to teach. At its core, religion is linked to what we as humans already tend to for the sake of survival: compassion.
As such, though we might not always identify with religion as a concept, it’s not difficult to identify with some religious morals and teachings. Some people take to certain teachings better than others-- it’s super case-by-case-- but if you’re stuck in a religious environment listening to some preaching or anything, there’s probably going to be something you can relate to, and some way you can morph and adopt the message. This isn’t, like, all-encompassing, by the way. Of course there are some things that atheists and religious folk will never be able to relate to within each other, but.
You get what I mean.
I’m an atheist myself. I spent a chunk of my schooling at a religious institution. At best, there were messages that affected me deeply (as they were hard-hitting even when I stripped them of the God-worshipping aspects). At worst, I had to grit my teeth through some assignments, though I felt mostly indifferent (if slightly resentful at times, more out of frustration with the closed-mindedness of the administration than with the concept of religion itself). My experience isn’t universal, of course-- some people in my shoes were more frustrated and angry than I was, and I can see why. But my point is, being an atheist in and of itself (even one as strict as Tony) doesn’t render religious imagery useless.
For example, if you happen to pass by a pastor preaching about struggles with guilt, you might not identify with the sentiment of “Give your worries to God and know He’ll take care of you.” However, you could identify with the sentiment of, “Those little things, those side effects of decisions you’ve made? They’re here. Those decisions have been made. You’re allowed to swallow past the reality of what it is that’s passed and move on. You’re allowed to let go of it, so long as you’re better today than you were yesterday.”
It’s especially easy to do this if you’re listening to or being exposed to content from a religion you’re already familiar with; in Tony’s case, if we assume he was a Christian at one point or was raised with Christian ideals (not unbelievable in the slightest, given his circumstances and upbringing), then he wouldn’t have to do a lot of heavy lifting in order to get to “core messages” of certain Christian teachings that he could still identify with. Couple that with the higher power mentioned before, and... it’s not hard to see what might be appealing to him about AA, and it’s not hard to see why it was so effective at sticking in his mind all the way through his darkest periods in life.
Now comes the less healthy part.
There’s also an aspect of self-flagellation to it that I feel Tony might identify with on a deeper level. We’ve seen him hate himself openly, and we know how he regards himself. Even if he managed to find himself in a courthouse-like environment where the religious undertones were more about judgment than recovery, I don’t know that that would necessarily... push him away? He’s already told himself there’s something rotting and evil at his core many times over. He’s already committed himself to a lifestyle of atonement and progress, punishing himself when he fails to accomplish things no human reasonably could and barely praising himself when he doesn’t fail. Do I think these kinds of meetings would be totally sustainable for him, given that he clearly needs to feel pride or relief on some level for conquering his demons? No, not really, but. I don’t think he’d abandon them straight away.
Besides, every healing environment he’s been shown in has been more on the welcoming, open side, even if we only get to see a bare bones interpretation of AA (with deeper exploration happening more with Tony’s response to it, or his and Carol’s responses to each other) in canon. He’s in a good place with it, and it’s very nice to see.
Tl;dr: Again, great question. At the end of the day, I think the combination of self-loathing, his desire for progress, and his conceptualization of “the future” as his higher power makes AA a good fit for him despite his lack of a belief in "God” as an entity.
44 notes · View notes
scarlets-maximoff · 3 years
Text
of falling stars and crescent moons
a wandagatha oneshot (also on ao3)
pairing: agatha harkness/wanda maximoff
au - gods and goddesses
word count: 3472
_
In the beginning, there was nothing.
Nothing, however, was already something and, when the Elder Gods looked upon the blank canvas that one day would become the universe, they saw it was good. Life could be nurtured here, they would say. Their children would gasp excitedly, Papa, papa! Will you make me a star too? Ah, she already was. His little star.
Soon, my child, He would answer softly, bouncing his daughter on his knee.
And then, in the blink of an eye and a whispered command-
Nothing became everything.
An explosion. The Big Bang, some of the Elder Gods liked to call it.
Light flashed in unimaginable directions. Colorful waves of matter spread across space with unrestricted power and every once in a while the Gods would hear their rumble reverberating as thunders in the sky. All that was necessary for life to flourish was already coming together.
Nebulas and constellations now decorated the universe like splashes of paint on a black canvas. Stars colliding and galaxies being formed. Upon seeing part of their hearts and souls coloring their creation, the Gods rejoiced. Their creation was good.
But something was missing.
The universe couldn't be left barren. It was not made for that. What was the point of it all if not for life to be created and appreciated? To be lived? They needed a place where life could bloom and grow in all its glory. From birth till death. Where all creatures could exist.
So, hand in hand with one another, the Gods closed their eyes and imagined their second creation: the Earth. A small blue planet, born from the fire and blossoming under divine light. But darkness still lingered there, hiding just beneath the myriad of clouds and thunder. No living beings could settle in such an inhospitable environment.
He looked down on his child clinging to his legs. His beautiful Wanda. Running his fingers through her hair, he knew a decision had to be made.
"My darling, Papa needs to tell you something." His voice was deep but soothing and it reached the little girl's ears as if it were a breeze. She glanced up at him with curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"Yes, Papa?"
"You're my light, Wanda. You always have been and always will be. But this world needs you to shine on them. To guide them when darkness looms over their heads." Tears threatened to fall but He stood strong. A little hand grasped his in a surprisingly firm hold.
He pulled her up in his arms with a choked sob.
"You need to be their sun, little one." The girl tried to wiggle out of his embrace such was the excitement she felt. "I'll make you a star. Their star."
A tear fell.
Twinkle, little star.
The Sun was created.
Wanda sighed dejectedly.
Being the sun goddess was total, utter boredom. She had to wake up early every day to shine on those hideous living beings down on Earth—just a bunch of microbes, for dad's sake— and when nighttime came, there was no one to talk to! Not even a falling star! Asteroids were rude so she didn't even bother with them. It was lonely.
She knew her dad had been right. She knew how important her mission was and how essential for life to exist it was. In spite of all that… Wanda felt unbearably alone. Don't get her wrong, solitude was becoming to her. Even though she was an actual goddess, she only felt like one when she gazed down upon her kingdom. Her planet. And yet-
There was no one by her side. No one to share the sky with her. The days were bright and beautiful; the nights, dark and rueful. And it's been like that for the past 4 billion years. Wanda's lips trembled at the sudden realization.
4 billion years on her own. What kind of existence is that?
When the first tear fell, others soon followed. The night was silent if not for the sorrowful cries of the Sun. Up there, in the starry sky, the morning star wept. For her loneliness. For her family that wasn't there. For her heart, which thundered inside of her just like the rain that fell down on Earth. That night, Wanda prayed.
Her dad didn't talk to her much anymore. Until that moment, she hadn't tried to reach out either. There were no hard feelings between them—'Tis the right thing to do, my daughter— but after years of isolation, they grew apart. Or maybe, she just drifted away from him. A lost star in the endless void of the universe. How fitting.
Still, she prayed. A desperate plea from a chilling heart.
"Father-" Her fiery red hair fell like a curtain around her face. Shoulders heaving with each sob. "Please. Please, leave me alone no more, for I cannot bear it any longer. You said I would shine and bring light to this world. What world, Father?" Between sobs, Wanda screamed at the sky above. Each tear sizzled as they touched her skin. "How can I shine so brightly if there's no one to see me, dad? N-no one to share my light with?" Wanda, the morning star. Lost star. Dimming star.
Twilight in the sky.
From above, her creator observed the scene regretfully. How much He ached to be with her. To hold his daughter again. In an attempt to right what was wrong—Listen to my prayers, Father!— He waved his hand in a difficult motion, eyes swimming in tears that had yet to fall. As you wish, darling one.
"Let there be the Moon."
Bleary-eyed, the Moon rises.
What is she doing up there in the sky? It's quiet but eerily so. No star is close enough for her to speak with, only capable of seeing their light from afar. Glancing down, she notices her hands. They are pretty hands. Long fingers stained purple—why purple?— and pale skin. Agatha can almost see the little blood vessels underneath.
It is then that she notices her surroundings. The night is a lilac sky with drops of light in it, planets a million miles away and stars shining so brightly her eyes sting. Agatha herself is glowing. Or rather, reflecting the glow. There is a woman on the horizon. It's too far for Agatha to see what she looks like, but even from far away, she can see how much she shines. A beacon in the dark. Warmth sweeps through her in gentle waves. It comes from the woman too.
In a bout of courage, the Moon waves at her. She has no idea if it will work, given how bright is the space between them. She tries. There's something magnetic in this woman as if she was the Sun and Agatha, the satellite stuck in its orbit. But isn't that exactly what they are? And suddenly, as if heaven itself had illuminated her mind, she realizes that she is the Moon.
Agatha, Goddess of the night and the dark.
Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't notice the Sun wiping away her tears, nor does she hear the surprised gasp the other woman erupts. Father listened!
"Hello?" Wanda calls out, confusion present in her tone. Dark hair flails wildly as Agatha focuses her gaze on her. She is so beautiful, the redhead thinks as she watches her from afar. Raven black mane of lustrous hair gently falling down on lean shoulders; pale, almost silver skin catching the light coming from Wanda in a soft glow. A reflection. Not quite her mirror but her opposite. This is the Moon in all her glory.
“You there!” She has to shout if she wants the other to hear it. “I’m the Sun. Or Wanda, if you prefer.” The star feels ridiculous shouting at someone who’s so far away, almost unreachable in the night sky. “What is your name?” A hopeful smile lights up her face by the time she finishes.
“I’m Agatha, dear.” The Moon smiles back. “Charmed to make your acquaintance. Now, is there any way we can meet up without all this screaming?” As if to make a point, Agatha puts a hand around her own throat. “Give a break to these vocal cords, ya know?” If she squinted her eyes just a bit, Wanda would see a teasing smile gracing the woman’s lips. However, having heard what she’d said, the Sun laughed merrily.
Thank you, Dad.
They talked the night away. What was once a sorrowful evening quickly became a cheerful night. However, when dawn starts to break, Wanda notices the Moon beginning to fade away. She tries to shine brighter, stronger in her light, desperation clutching her heart at the prospect of being alone again.
“Agatha,” The Sun is set ablaze. “Will I see you again?” The Moon is almost gone now. Giving up her place in the sky for the sunlight to shine. It would be poetic if it weren’t for the pain in her chest. How come the Moon missed her already?
“Darling, you’re the center of the universe.” Her voice is but a gentle whisper in the forenoon. Despite the distance, Wanda can hear it as if it had been whispered right by her ear. “Wherever you go, I follow.” And with sad blue eyes and a wistful smile, the moon Goddess disappears in the aurora.
173 days had passed since their first and only conversation. For some reason, on each night they shared, it became harder and harder for them to hear one another. And each time the Sun had to see her friend disappear in the sky, she took a little piece of her heart with her. She knew she was being dramatic. And if Agatha were here she would probably make fun of her too. Now, did she care? No, she didn't.
Wanda yearns for the Moon. Craves her soothing voice and cheeky remarks. Teasing smiles and soft eyes. The Sun felt seen under her gaze. After billions of years with only herself as company, the sun Goddess can't help but feel attached to her. Even though moths still didn't exist and she was the actual flame, Wanda was attracted to the moonlight just the same.
A little voice, however, just hidden in the confines of her mind, tells her that there was a purpose to this. This distance that they always try to close but never do. Yearning for someone she could never hold in her arms. Maybe this is just another way for Father to punish me again, Wanda thinks bitterly. She'd never been so wrong before. This was no punishment.
It was salvation.
Brooding up in the sky, the Sun hadn't noticed when night started to fall. Nor had she noticed when—instead of the Earth blocking her vision of the Moon—the object of her thoughts suddenly appeared right in front of her.
It's during a solar eclipse when they meet for the first time.
"Agatha? Is it really you?" Jumping to her feet from where she sat, Wanda feels her heart skip a beat. Nothing could compare to the Moon up close.
"It is. Come here so I can see you, darling!" A delighted smile curls on dark red lips. The goddess reaches up to softly cradle Wanda's face, a thumb brushing the warm skin of her cheek. "You're really here…"
The redhead leans into the touch. "I am. You have no idea how much I wanted to see you, Agatha. To talk to you eye to eye." The black-haired woman revels in the way green orbs gleam under her light. Their light. "To touch you." Hands to her hips pulls her closer. The Moon buries herself in those arms. It feels like being hugged by the Sun but literally this time. She giggles at her own silliness. A husky voice laughs along.
"Why are you laughing?" Wanda whispers in the crook of her neck. Agatha gives a small intake of breath, and her laughing subsides.
"I just realized the Sun is hugging me. A strange metaphor, don't you think?"
"Perhaps. Do you want me to-"
"No!" Agatha says, startling them both. She speaks quieter, "No. S-sorry, I'm just too silly for my own good. Comes with loneliness, I guess." She gives a bit of a laugh but her gaze finds the ground. A finger under her chin lifts it up.
"Hey," A soft smile spreads across the Sun's face. "It's okay. Maybe we could be silly together?" And as if to emphasize her point, she makes a silly face. Agatha can't help the guffaw that comes out. They laugh together again.
Hand in hand, they walk through the night sky. Talking about everything and nothing, they discover little things about each other, such as Agatha's liking for the sea and her influence on the tides, or Wanda's love for early mornings and summer evenings. Both women feel at home with each other, their past sorrows all but forgotten memories in their minds. Day and night. Light and darkness.
Total eclipse of the Sun.
It didn't take long for them to realize that they only had time to meet in person during eclipses. Solar ones, in fact. As such, whenever they got the chance, the two goddesses would always try to get the best out of the few hours they had together. Today is no different.
It was also in each other's company that they discovered the ability to incarnate themselves. In their human forms—Dad needs to create them soon—they would head down to their shared planet and take walks on the small patches of land they could find.
They're laying side by side on the ground. "Dear gods, Wanda, whatever those poor things have done to you? It's just phytoplankton," Between giggles, Agatha tries not to let a full laugh come out as she watches Wanda turn and glare at her, the redhead's own lips twitching as if she too were having a hard time not laughing. "Why do you despise them so?" Agatha is actually curious about that.
"They're just so bland! Father said that He would create mankind when I was little but apparently He forgot." She says grumpily but with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Photosynthesis is the only thing they do all day. Not to mention under my account too!" Wanda puts on a serious face for a few moments, only for it to fall away as the twinkling laughter of her Moon hits her ears. It occurs to her, like a flash of lightning, how beautiful Agatha looks under the penumbra.
Their human forms came with the inability to display their god-like features, which was why Wanda didn't shine as the actual sun and Agatha didn't reflect her rays.
She is glad for it, really. Mortality looks heavenly on her Moon.
"You're a goofball!"
"Am not!"
"Yes, you are!" Agatha turns fully on her side, arms under her head and tenderness coloring her ocean eyes. Her gaze trails over the woman beside her. Without thinking, her hand finds Wanda's. Their laughter ceases to give space to a companionable silence. There's no need for words right now.
Despite knowing each other for months now—It feels like I've known her for years, they both think—it's at this very moment the goddesses realize how important and vital the other's presence is in their lives. Wanda found a friend in Agatha, something she had longed for as long as she could remember. Solace and understanding the foundation of their budding relationship. Yet, a flame started inside of her chest. It was small at first, barely there. A candle in the dark. Now?
Fire overtook her entire being.
The Sun burns for the Moon's touch and her smile; her azure eyes and sharp tongue, quick wit and soft words-
Wanda, the sun Goddess. The only morning star. The lost star. Once dimming but never giving out. Enters the Moon and she falls. A falling star in the dark night sky. And woe is Wanda, for she hopes Agatha catches her. Never to fade away. Never to let go.
"Wanda?" The hand Agatha holds trembles slightly. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, I'm just- it's nothing, really." There are tears in her eyes but she wills them not to fall. She is my only friend, I can't lose her for this-
"Honey, don't do this. I know there's something upsetting you. I won't force you to talk to me but know that I'm here, Wanda. I'm not going anywhere." She pulls her hand away to run her fingers through soft auburn hair. The Sun feels fire spread within.
"Promise we can still be friends?" Never in her life had she felt so insecure. But she had to know.
"Darling, how could I not be your friend? You're my sun, superstar. But yes, I promise you." Agatha tried to joke around to see if she could bring a smile to the woman's face. It is to no avail.
Wanda rests a warm hand on her cheek. Caresses the skin just beneath her eyes, brushes her nose. Ghosts over lips. With each touch, Agatha's heart plummeted in her chest. A crescent moon, thundering core.
"I've always wanted to be a star. When the Gods created the universe, I was there. I've seen things you can't even imagine. Whole galaxies colliding with each other, the death of a million stars." She closes her eyes briefly, and her voice cracks as she continues. "And when I became one, I felt completely happy. Excited even. I was to shine upon a whole world, the entire solar system. And yet… I was lonely. I was alone for so long, Agatha. But then- Then you came along. I prayed for someone, anyone to come and put me out of my misery.
My light was going out but you brought it back. You are my light, Agatha. You're the reason I still burn and will continue to burn until the end of time itself, if it means you're by my side." By the time she finishes, tears have long started falling. And by the time they fall, the Moon has already pulled the Sun into her embrace.
Black nails into her scalp. Murmured words of comfort in her ear.
The Sun sets and lays in her chest.
"Remember that thing I said on the day we met?" She waits for Wanda to nod, her mane of red hair tickling Agatha's nose. "Wherever you go, I follow. That's the truth, Wanda. Not only am I incapable of getting away from you, I also don't want to. And do you know why?" Green eyes red with crying look up at her. "Because I can't bear the thought of not being with you. The very prospect of not seeing you shine so brightly in the sky saddens me so much that-" Her voice chokes. "That sometimes I can't breathe. But when morning comes and you're up there in the sky being your sunny self," They both laugh tearfully. "I feel alive. You make me feel alive, Wanda."
It doesn't really matter who leans in first.
Day and night find each other's lips in a searing kiss. Wanda might have witnessed many things in her long life, but never had she seen the collision of a satellite and its star. What a spectacle it was. Lucky her for having the pleasure to participate in it.
They are a mess of limbs curling into one another. Not once separating from their kiss, Wanda manages to straddle Agatha with dexterity, her hands pining those of the woman to the hard surface. Tongue against tongue in an elegant and passionate dance. Total eclipse of the Sun, full Moon its only spectator.
Then, coming from the heavens above, a deep rumble sounded.
"No." A whispered command. Father had come back.
And the falling star and her crescent moon were no more.
Wanda opens her eyes with a silent gasp.
Sunlight hits her face lazily as if it had just woken up as well. Agatha sleeps by her side. Looking out, she sees the snowy mountain tops and the woods that surrounded their cabin being grazed by the morning sun.
Her girlfriend murmurs something in her sleep the younger witch can't quite comprehend. Trying to calm her rabbit-heart, Wanda pulls her closer and breathes into her hair. Feels her own breathing slow down. It was just a dream, it was just dream-
"Well, good morning, sunshine." Violet eyes hazy with sleep slowly blink at her. A soft smile on red lips. "What's with the long face?" Agatha taps her nose. The warm breeze coming from outside suddenly feels too hot.
Too much.
"Nothing, I- I just had the strangest dream…"
Up in the sky, the Sun wept.
18 notes · View notes