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relishredshoes · 3 years

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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello CorvusDraconis and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you so much for sitting down with us to chat.

You’re a well known and beloved figure in the SS/HG community for your many stories - including a personal favourite of mine, A chance for happiness.

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name?

I have always had a fascination for the shiny things and the Northwest Coast depictions of Raven the Trickster/Creator, and, I tend to hoard (and get super protective) of my art supplies. Corvids have always been a positive sign in my life. They tend to show up when I’m feeling down and engage in funny antics in the yard. As for dragons, I’ve always had a love for them and think the Western depiction of them as dangerous beasts with no mind but for hoarding treasure and killing people only to be slain by a knight quite despicable.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Severus, actually. I see a lot of my life in his. Hardships, challenges, bullying— trying to be something better and later wondering about unwise decisions. I have a very similar dislike for dunderheads, but I do not share his inclination to denude rosebushes of their petals. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) I have always preferred fantasy and sci-fi.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

I am not sure if you would call it a classic novel, but grew up on all things Tolkien (and even puzzled through the Silmarillion at the grand age of seven), and have a special place in my heart for Watership Down. While I’ve read pieces like War and Peace, Iliad, Ulysses, Pride and Prejudice, Grapes of Wrath, Moby Dick, Great Gatsby, Little Women, Catcher in the Rye, Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn, Scarlet Letter, Don Quixote, To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm, Jane Eyre, Lord of the Flies, Tale of Two Cities, Heart of Darkness, Robinson Crusoe, Alice in Wonderland, Great Expectations, Odyssey, Frankenstein, Dracula, Crime and Punishment, Heart of Darkness, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Anne of Green Gables, Les Misérables, Peter Pan, Gulliver’s Travels, all things Jack London, 20000 Leagues, etc.— they never captured me as aptly as Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern or Mercedes Lackley’s the Last Herald Mage. Though, if I were to pick classic stories I read more than once (litmus test for things I like) it would be things such as The Secret Garden, Call of the Wild, Wild Fang, The Hobbit, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and The Last Unicorn. At what age did you start writing? The moment I could pick up pencil and paper, I was writing. I had notepads full of stories I wrote as a kid. Alas, my dad found them one day when I was off to college, made fun of them, and I came home and burned every single one in mortification.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

The moment TV shows did “stupid things” to their characters. I used to write things about Beauty and the Beast (the old CBS show) when they killed off the main character, Knight Rider, Robocop, Transformers— there are probably far more that I just don’t remember now. I was writing it long before there was a fanfiction dot net or a term to even call it. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? I am a shameless romantic for the beauty within and sometimes the quite literal love for a monster (not just some person who acts like a monster and changes into a better person.) The misunderstood monster is perhaps my most favourite theme, and it shows up in my stories often if not always. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I ship SessKag from Inuyasha, Lucard/Sophie from Dracula: The Series, and Loki/Hermione when I’m feeling crossover-y. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Other than my favourite fanon that Severus lives/survives/finds a better life free of two masters and his guilt, I would say I would want Harry to wise the heck up and realise his father was a swine, his godfather was an almost successful murderer that used his own best mate to try and kill off another student, and his mother wasn’t all that hot either. I would want him to find value in himself without having to make stuff up about his “perfect” parents. Then again, I would want Vernon/Petunia to be arrested for child abuse and put in gaol, but— then the story would have been very different XD Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? Sometimes quiet, sometimes music. But usually, I am best mates with Spotify.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

In the HP universe: I honestly don’t read many of them because I’m always writing my own stuff XD, but when I really feel like I need a good Ron bashing SSHG HEA, I read just about anything by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse. However, that being said, I often return to “The Sun is Often Out” by Hannah-1888 for just the right amount of angst and HEA to make me happy.

In the Inuyasha universe: A Trick of Fate by PristinelyUngifted

In the Marvel universe: Mutual Respect Sends His Regrets by moor

In the Star Trek universe: Gratified By Your Company by starfleetdream

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I go by the seat of my feathered rump, to be honest. Inspiration is a fickle, unpredictable beast, and I usually don’t know what is going to happen until it does.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Fantasy

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Chance of Happiness because it was my very first publication. It may not have been my best, but it was my first, and it very well could have been my last yet somehow wasn’t.

Looks Can Be Deceiving and One Step Forward, Two Decades Back are two epic tales that seemed to demand being written. The fact I finished them was something I think deserves a little pride.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Looks started off with me attempted to write Dramione just once. It failed. Draco demanded to be her brother of the heart, Viktor came in and said “nope she’s mine,” and no one was more surprised at the outcome of that story than me. The characters did what THEY wanted.

I learned that trying to plan a story from start to finish is useless when the characters decide what they want. The story demanded more, and I was just a conduit that typed it down. For me, at least, attempting to outline and plan is utterly useless

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

I think every story I write is personal in some way. The inspiration comes from somewhere inside, and I often have no idea what it is until I go back and read it later. I think the story wrote itself in a lot of ways, which made it easier in a way, but there are a lot of things I can’t say were from personal experience because as a high fantasy of talking gryphons and such I can only imagine it. There is no basis in real life on how any of that would go down. There is a freedom in that but also many challenges in making it real enough to identify with despite how alien and fantastic the idea is.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

Dragonriders of Pern introduced sentient dragons and the idea that despite a vast difference in species there could be teamwork and love between the two as they teamed up against a greater threat.

The herald-mage books by Mercedes Lackley were also important staples in my childhood because it impressed the values of responsibility despite having powers others did not, and that people were fallible despite greatness and potential.

Gandalara Cycle by Randall Garrett and Vicki Ann Heydron: I cannot tell you how often I read this story. I had dog ears on these novels because there was so much I loved about them. It was a search for humanity when displaced in a seemingly alien world, societal clashes, and the great sha’um (the giant rideable cats) that were the main characters’ partners for life.

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede: A princess rebels against her arranged marriage by running away to be a dragon princess.

All of these books had creatures in it that chose to partner with a human and be with them for life, not as lovers that you find in the more modern supernatural romance blender out there, but the ultimate friend for life— the family you choose.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Oh heck no. Hah. They have their secrets, and I have mine. Personally, I think mine are more healthy than theirs.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

Very.

I write for myself. Sometimes I’ll write a story for one of my betas or a sshg friend, but for the most part, I write for my own entertainment because nothing like what I write is out there. There is a lot of SSHG out there, but mine is almost always a creature feature story. I blame X-Files growing up. It tickles me that others enjoy my stories, but in the end I write to get things down and out of my head. They just so happen to entertain others as they do me.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I will often engage in A/N talk at the end of chapters, but I really don’t engage in the fandom. I loathe social media. That being said, I read every review, and while I don’t reply to everything because FF dot net is a horrible platform for messaging anymore (or ever was really)-- I appreciate every single one. Sometimes it helps to know people are enjoying the story for the story’s sake.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Get a beta, even if you are pretty good at writing. Get one because a second pair of eyes will catch things you don’t. Read your own stuff out loud. If you trip over it, your audience will too. If you stumble, so will they.

Get a beta who isn’t afraid to tell you that your shite stinks in places and you make no sense. You may want a cheerleader, but what you need is a beta. If you are super lucky, you can have both at once.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I play computer games and sew things. I’ve sewn a lot of things lately. Scrub caps and masks for work—

There has been a lot of writer’s block lately due to the times, and I will not write when I’m uninspired. I will not force inspiration. That’s not fair to me or those unfortunate enough to share in the reading. I want to be able to go back on a story I wrote and enjoy it and not curse at myself. XD

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Sometimes certain catch phrases and things from real life friends have trickled in as a sort of Easter egg (unbeknownst to them since I don’t tell them I write fanfic). Sometimes random news stories or whatnot find their way in. Lessons of the day. Random events. Things that are too odd not to stick in my brain somehow. I can’t say I always do it on purpose, though.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

No, I have a goal this year to finish off the unfinished stories. This is made harder because Dragon and the Rose keeps adding more and more bunnies into the idea bin, and my brain wants to run with them, but I’m like NO DANGIT, I HAVE STUFF TO FINISH STILL! It’s a hard thing trying to finish what you start when so much interesting stuff pops up and waves at you like “heeeeeyyyyy I’m cool too!”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Keep writing but remember you can always be better. You can always improve. Writing isn’t a popularity contest. It isn’t about how many reviews you get or how many fans you may or may not have. Write because you want to write. Write what you like not what other people like. Write for you because in the end, you are the one who goes back to read it and say “I wrote this story, and I still love it” instead of forcing yourself to write something just because the topic is “popular” and gets a lot of visitors. Write something you’ll be proud to go back and read and enjoy. You’ll find when you write something genuinely, readers will come. And if only one person leaves you a paragraph review on how much your story meant to them out of someone else’s hundreds of “great!” (with nothing else)-- think of what you value more.

If my story helped someone through a dark time.

Just one person—

Then it was a good effort.

Maybe that person didn’t have the bravery to leave a message. Maybe they are ashamed. Maybe they send you a PM instead of a review.

That is, to me, the ultimate reason why I realised that despite writing stories for myself that there are people out there that needed to hear my story at just the right time in their life. If my story can bring a little joy to someone else, then it doesn’t matter how many reviews I have. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have thousands of reviews like “that other author.” What matters is that I told my story; someone out there read it and it spoke to them.

I love hearing from people and what they liked about my stories, but I also am glad that there are some people out there who secretly like my stories but do not feel safe enough to review.

So, I would say to the aspiring author: write for yourself but share it. You never know whose day you will make with your story. They may never tell you. They may tell you years later (happened to me!). There is a good chance that someone out there needs your story as much as you need to write it. That being said, find yourself a beta to share your journey with you. You may find a few friend in the process.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

You are quite welcome.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ss/hg #snamione #writing

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

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Beyond Broken - Chapter One

Summary: Thor struggles with his failure after losing The Infinity War to Thanos. He spirals into depression, leaving both The Avengers and his Asgardian kin behind. He is unable to cope with the scale of his loss so he seeks solitude in a small seaside town in Connecticut, where no one recognised him. There he meets a woman (Jess) who has also lost everything. Their connection leads to happiness but something looms on the horizon and threatens everything Thor holds dear. Just as night is to day, light follows darkness, but as the couple learns in an all-too-bitter twist of fate, darkness comes right back around again to finish the job.

Famdom: MCU, Thor, Avengers

Words: 30k WIP

Warnings: Survivor’s guilt, depression, self-loathing, angst, sexual content (explicit and fluffy), mild/hinted homophobia directed to secondary character, violence of the canon-typical variety, bit of stalking, and probably some bad language (as standard).

A/N: This is the first MCU fic I ever started writing, and I hope to do the characters justice. It’s an angsty tale with feels but it’s likely to have an unhappy ending, so you have been warned. There are spoilers for Endgame in here for those who still haven’t seen it, and eventually the story will come to be an alternate plot for Endgame. Once again, it’s going to be dark at the end, but there are other universes than these and this is but one of the fourteen million possible endings spoken of by Dr Strange in Infinity War ;)

For more chapters see my Thor Odinson Mobile Masterlist

The Life of Jessica Walker

It had been ten months to the day when a once happy-go-lucky girl lost her whole world. Jess Walker remembered that day as if it were only yesterday. Each day since had felt the same; hollow, broken, desperate. The emptiness was ravenous. It engulfed and ravaged, sapping all but the bleakest of emotion from her. Ten months without him.

Will Tanner had been the love of her life. He’d been with her through the loss of her father and then, soon after, the loss of her mother. They’d made a life together. Had a nice house in New London. Good jobs. Pet iguana. Holidays around the world. And an engagement ring with an open-ended shelf-life; they’d been married in every way other than the piece of paper that confirmed their status. Eight years of love and commitment lost in a finger snap.

She’d awoken that morning to the blaring ringer of the bedside telephone. Groggily she’d answered to a hysterical David, Will’s younger brother.

“Jess. It’s David. I need Will. Mom’s gone.”

Confused and still shrouded in the slovenliness of sleep, it took her a while to realise that David was saying that their mother had passed away.

“Oh my god!” She gasped, tears instantly springing to her eyes. Turning quickly on the bed to rouse Will she saw he was not there. “Hold on, he must be in the bathroom.” She said to David before calling for Will to come to the phone.

There was no response.

She shuffled out of bed quickly, taking the cordless phone with her out into the hall. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. None of the lights were on. Had Will stepped out for a walk or to get some breakfast takeaway. The clock said 9.15am. Shit! They were late for work.

“David, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say.” Jess returned to their bedroom. Will’s suit hung on the wardrobe door where he’d put it the night before, ready for work. “He’s not here. Let me try his cell and call you back.”

David sobbed as she hung up without waiting on a reply.

Jess had been frantic after ringing Will’s personal and work phones to find them both in his briefcase. She’d scoured the counters and bedside units for a note he may have left. It was then that she noticed the dust. It was all over their bed, under the covers, swirling in the air as she moved the blankets.

What in God’s name was going on? Maybe Will had somehow heard the news of his mother and left in a hurry, but both sets of car keys were still on their hooks. Her panic increased.

It wasn’t until later, after an hour of stressing and crying, consoling David, speaking to friends and co-workers that she finally understood what had happened. There’d been some kind of alien attack and half of the population had been disintegrated. She didn’t know the ins and outs, she never kept up with the news because it was depressing but she turned the TV on now to see all channels reporting the horrors that had happened in the night.

Numb, and with the heavy lump of despair sitting in her chest, she stared but didn’t really see the TV as the news caster described the events.

They were saying the effect was world-wide, fifty percent of all life on earth, at random, all gone, turned to dust. And her William had been one, his mother too. Her friends and co-workers also, she’d not gotten responses from some, had they been vanished as well? And Iggy? She looked over to the large vivarium but that too was empty.

She sobbed again, even their pet was gone, she truly had nothing left of their life save material possessions and memories. She was alone.

Ten months on she still felt the pain of loss but she knew Will would not have wanted her to spin out in a downward cycle of despair and depression. In some ways the world had moved on, in others it was impossible to fully accept the catastrophic changes. Jess continued to work as a Dentist, she was lucky that the practice had not folded like so many other businesses, although she was just going through the motions each day. It was difficult to plug away day in day out when you knew life could be sucked away in the blink of an eye.

Ever since that first day, she’d been as supportive to David as possible. He took it very hard, losing mother and brother in the same day. It gave her peace to know that she could help them; David and William Sr. were the last ties she had to the life she’d thought she had secured. She’d found a purpose in this new world of broken things.

Jess finished at the practice and gathered her things to meet David. The sky was overburdened with ominous dark clouds and the air was thick with the tension of an oncoming storm. She walked the three blocks to the little coffee shop on Neptune where she and David met five days a week. He was waiting for her outside with a cup of her favourite tiramisu hot chocolate, a genuinely warm smile, a soft kiss on her cheek and a yappy Papillon called Daisy Duke.

“It’s nice to see the weather has changed.” She raised a sarcastic eyebrow, accepting the warmth of the paper cup in both hands. It had been weeks since she’d seen the sun. She sipped and sighed. “How are you?”

Today was Tuesday, the first day in her David support week. Sundays and Mondays she had to herself, but Tuesdays were usually his worst. They walked towards the park.

“Not good.” He shook his head, hunching his shoulders against the chill carried off the ocean by a strengthening wind. “Dad’s pretty demanding, I can’t deal with his disappointment. It’s like, even now, he can’t accept that his other son died and to treasure the one he has left. To him, the wrong son died. It’s crippling me, Jess. You don’t even see it! He acts differently when you’re there.”

“It’s hard for you both, you’ve lost so much.” She gave him a reassuring squeeze on the forearm. “Is he still going to that support group for survivors of Disintegration Day?”

“Yeah, he is.” David looked at the ground.

“Well that’s great! That should help him loads.” Jess beamed, her enthusiasm dropping away when she saw the look on his face. “Why do I get the feeling that it’s not though?”

They crossed the street to Ocean Beach Park where David let Daisy off her leash. The sky had darkened further with the downward progression of the obstructed sun and the thickening of the clouds. He kicked pebbles as they walked the paths of the park.

“I dunno, Jess.” David sighed, defeated. “He’s great when he’s getting ready to go out. Sunday afternoons are nice. He’s chipper, you know? Almost happy. He goes to group in the early evening and it’s like he’s how he used to be when mom…” He swallowed hard. “But then he comes home, sees me and it’s like he’s disgusted. Like maybe he knows. But I’ve been so careful. I dunno what to do anymore.”

She drew him into a hug and squeezed him tight. His arms tightened around her back as he sniffed into the shoulder of her jacket. Jess once thought, if she closed her eyes, it almost felt like holding Will again. After all, they were the same height and build, slim and lean. She knew then, just as she knew now, that she couldn’t ever go down that road, no matter how much she wanted to keep Will alive it could only be in her heart.

“It’s not you.” She crooned. “You’re only trying to be happy, David. No one can blame you for seeking something bright in times as dark as these.”

“I know.” He nodded, pulling away.

“You’ll feel better once you’ve blown off some steam and that hot man of yours.” She wiggled her eyebrows comically, grinning the goofiest smile she could muster.

Her reward was a genuinely abashed laugh that burst from him involuntarily. It both soothed and pained her heart. He reminded her so much of Will sometimes it nearly killed her.

“You’re terrible!” The blush suited him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and settled into a slow walk at her side. “So what’s new with you since I saw you on Saturday?”

“Oh nothing much, you know me. Same shit, different day.” It was easier for him if she didn’t burden him with her feelings. She knew he struggled enough with his own issues, and for the time being she was coping. The mantra I can do this chanted over and over in her head each morning seemed to work enough to get her moving, and once she had momentum it was easier to follow it through the day.

At seven o’clock on the dot his phone rang.

“Got to go.” He handed her the leash. Daisy was still sniffing around the shrubberies and grasses nearby. “I’ll meet you back at Neptune’s at ten?”

“Yep, the usual.” She offered him a weak smile.

“Thanks so much for continuing to do this, Jess. I dunno what I’d do without you.” He grinned and dashed off in the direction of amazing sex and short-lived happiness.

It wasn’t that Jess resented being David’s wingman, so to speak, or that he was essentially living a lie. She didn’t even mind that she’d put everything else in her life on hold to be his anchor, or that five days a week she was out in the cold being a dog-sitter. It was that he’d made no effort to help himself. No counselling, no psychiatrist, nothing but her; he’d latched onto her almost immediately and she’d gone with it. She wasn’t exactly one to talk about self-help, mind you, she’d gone to therapy two, three, and four months after Disintegration Day. She’d got to a point where she couldn’t see past the emotions she had, couldn’t see anything else for herself and she’d accepted that as her reality. Accepted this as her life now.

Daisy came back with a stick, which she threw for the dog again and again. She seemed to have boundless energy and be completely care free. Jess wished she could feel the same but the sickness of loss had settled too deep, so deep in fact, that she thought she’d never feel any different. But that was all on the inside, and she covered it over with a warm smile and a bright disposition. Smile even when the inside is nothing but ash.

Walking the boardwalk with the wind buffeting her hair into a wild mess, Jess was alone. It was well after nine, all of the people had left save for a few coming and going from a gym up at the top of the park. She’d been strolling and playing with Daisy for hours, thankfully the dog loved her so it wasn’t a hardship.

Jess hummed a tune into the wind as she walked, it was the most peaceful she felt on any given day. Just her, the ocean, the briny air, the sting of the wind on her cheeks and in her eyes. The tears that welled up could have been attributed to the blustering wind but they weren’t. When they fell hot on her cheeks and chilled instantly she swiped them away with her jacket sleeve. She’d cried enough. The next droplet to land wasn’t a tear. The rain had begun.

Urging herself forward she picked up her pace, heading back to the café before the rain became a deluge. Ahead there was a man sat on one of the benches. The lamp above illuminated his large form, hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. He wore a grey jersey hoodie with the hood up, grey jogging pants and a pair of running shoes. The peak of a baseball cap poked from under his hood.

The rain had darkened his clothing over his head, shoulders and the tops of his thighs already, and he showed no sign of moving. As she passed she felt a jolt of fear. Muggings were rare in New London, but there were still those who sought a thrill in harming or terrorising defenceless women. She wasn’t exactly defenceless. She clasped the can of mace in her pocket tightly until she felt safe. The man hadn’t even looked up at her as she’d passed and several glances behind her told her what she needed to know; through sheets of slanting rain he sat there alone, unmoving.

David was apologetic and late. The barista in Neptune’s had patiently allowed her to remain in the shop even after ten o’clock closing on account of the rain. He accepted his, now cold, latte with pleading eyes. A large hickey low on his neck told her that he’d well and truly enjoyed the unplanned overtime on his secret tryst.

With Daisy stuffed inside his jacket they ran the three blocks back to the practice. In the underground parking garage David babbled about how amazing Silas was, how in love they were, how he wished they could just run away together.

Jess nodded and ahhh’d in all the right places, listening to the happiness bubbling out of him. It was nice to see him smiling for more than a brief second. Something must have really happened tonight to make him this excited, but she didn’t pry, he’d tell her eventually, he always did.

Home alone Jess flopped onto the cream leather couch still in her wet coat, where she fell into a troubled sleep.

The rest of the week things panned out in much the same way. The storm that had blown in on Tuesday night was gone by Wednesday morning only to return again on Wednesday night, Thursday night and also Friday night. By the time she got home on Friday Jess had taken the hint and packed a long waterproof ponceau and some knee-high boots into the trunk of her car, for next time.

David had been late every day that week, leaving her waiting in the rain when the Neptune’s staff had inevitably had to leave at well after eleven o’clock. Jess had been less than impressed with him, it had felt disrespectful. She soon felt guilty for being annoyed with him, and her frustration hadn’t lasted long.

Each night, on her walk along the boardwalk she had encountered the ‘lonely man’, as she internally named him. It was as if he sat awaiting the rain, watching as the sky blackened and the air filled with cascading torrents.

On Friday the park emptied earlier than usual, the regularity of the rain driving people away back to their homes. Jess had no such luck, having to wait on David and his booty call.

“Don’t be bitter.” She muttered to herself. “He’s happy.”

She’d paused midway along the wooden decked walkway, watching the last of the light die, shrouding the rolling clouds in night.

A noise behind her made her jump. The lonely man sat on his usual seat, in his grey hoody and jogging pants. Maybe her talking to herself had disturbed him, maybe her presence distracted him from his meditations, but he looked at Jess with one piercing blue eye. The other was in shadow under his hood.

Daisy was pulling on her leash to go sniff the man. He didn’t seem phased at all, or indeed amused by all the huffing and puffing the little dog was doing, straining to get closer. He was stoic, troubled even, obviously wanting solitude. She could relate.

“Don’t mind us.” Jess offered a quick smile and a nod before scooping the dog up in her arms and turning back to the waves crashing on the beach.

Half past nine came and there was no rain. Thunder grumbled in the distance but the sky did not weep. Jess could almost feel the electricity in the air. When this storm came it was going to be massive.

AC/DC Back in Black played from her pocket, shocking her out of her daze enough that she nearly dropped the dog over the railing onto the sand. Fumbling for her phone she swore bitterly.

“Hello, David is everything alright?”

“It’s ten, where are you?” He sounded stressed.

“Still down by the beach, I lost track of time.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I keeping you waiting this time? Shoe’s on the other foot is it? At least it’s not raining.” She snapped.

“Ok I deserve that. Where are you, I’ll come down?”

“I’m by marker twelve. See you in a few.” She stuffed the phone back into her pocket and repositioned the dog in the cradle of her arms.

David approached at a jog, breathless when he arrived, planting a hasty kiss on her cheek before accepting Daisy into his own embrace.

“I was worried.” He said with gravity.

“You don’t get to lecture me on punctuality, David, you kept me waiting for hours in the rain three nights in a row.” Jess let her annoyance flow into her tone.

“I said I was sorry!” He pushed back.

“Yeah, let’s just go.”

Jess turned to leave. The lonely man met her gaze with an amused half-smile, he acknowledged her with a slow blink and a nod. She returned the gesture and looped her hand through David’s arm as they left. Part way up the pathway lightning crackled its way across the sky and thunder boomed gun-shot loud overhead. There was a pregnant pause, a long sighing sound of rain rushing over water and sand, before the curtain closed around them and they were soaked.

Jess glanced back at the lonely man. He occupied her spot at the railing, his hood down now and face up turned to the sky. There was beauty in the sadness displayed there, in the way he sought to connect with something bigger than himself, maybe the rain washed away that which he wished to be free of.

They hurried to the car and were silent on the drive to drop David at home. Jess packed waterproofs in her trunk before turning in for the night. Her bed just didn’t feel right, almost like it had those first weeks without Will. She tossed and turned fitfully late into the night. Sleep was just beyond reach.

#thor fanfiction #thor odinson #marvel #marvel fanfiction #thor x ofc #post infinity war #avengers #pre endgame #angst #thor angst #survivor's guilt #depression #kindred spirits #my writing #beyond broken #thor fanfic #thor fic #cloudy's writing

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