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house-of-stone-at-sunrise · 1 month

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Fortnight - post mortem

"Fortnight"

(feat. Post Malone)

"I was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me

I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic

All of this to say, I hope you're okay, but you're the reason

And no one here's to blame, but what about your quiet treason?"

To be sent away is to be committed to the psych ward, or sent to jail. From the music video (MV) it seems that in this case it's a reference to an involuntary stay in the psych ward - she's chained up in a bed being made to take pills, however, asylums and prisons are a theme throughout the album as a whole.

In the opening scenes of the video she is dressed up to look like 1920s movie starlet Clara Bow (who is referenced directly as a song title later on the album.) Her hair is pinned up with an extreme number of upside down bobby-pins which on the right side of her head make the roman numeral for 13, and she is wearing a wedding gown.

Clara Bow is known to have engaged in lavender marriages while having secret affairs with women during her stardom. "dropping hairpins" is a piece of historical queer slang, meaning dropping hints that one is queer, and the inverse, having your hair pinned up means that you're pretending to be straight. Hair pins reference back to the lyrics of Right Where You Left Me "Dust collected on my pinned-up hair." I read this scene as "maximum closeting," by force.

The entire room is shown to be upside down and at an angle which reminds me of the classic Emily Dickinson poem "tell all the truth but tell it slant" Given Emily is a favorite poet of TS the Dickinson reference is likely intentional and it's fair to assume that there are red herrings and metaphors in abundance throughout this song and this album. Remember the 'redherring' error code on the website pre-release.

This song and video also reference A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, which tells the story of a person released from prison who has mental health issues due to being tortured during their prison stay, who is then taken by their family from Paris(!) to London (!!) Book 2 of A Tale of Two Cities is titled "The Golden Thread" which reminds me of Invisible String "one single thread of gold tied me to you," and in the second book we're told the tale of how the golden haired daughter provides financially for her family in addition to repairing and maintaining their good reputation. A Tale of Two Cities feels oh so very appropriate as a touchstone for listening to this album.

"I was a functioning alcoholic" is this metaphorical, literal, or both? Other mentions of use and abuse of drugs and alcohol in her discography include Closure "I'm fine with my spite and my tears and my beers and my candles" Clean "Ten months sober" and Don't Blame Me "My drug is my baby I'll be using for the rest of my life" I think in this case I think it might be both metaphorical and literal. The loss of her love drove her to drink, but also, she was addicted to her illicit love and maybe got away with it until others noticed-?

"All of this to say, I hope you're okay, but you're the reason. And no one here's to blame, but what about your quiet treason?" reminds me again of the song Closure "It wasn't right the way it all went down looks like you know that now. Yes, I got your letter, Yes, I'm doing better. I don't need your closure" It's just as direct, but less aggressive in tone. She hopes her muse is well but they are the reason that she is where she is.

"And for a fortnight there, we were forever

Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather

Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors

Your wife waters flowers

I wanna kill her"

A fortnight is two weeks, though, it may be a metaphorical stand-in here just meaning that for awhile it seemed like they were going to be together forever, but now they are acquaintances who make small talk.

"Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors" reminds me of the ever so quotable line "Good Fences Make Good Neighbours" from Robert Frost's poem Mending Wall, the irony of the poem is that while setting clear boundaries with a wall prevents petty disputes over property lines the constant need to maintain the wall they've built brings the neighbours together to talk. The line is often quoted by people who've never read the poem without heed for the irony. As a reference here it seems very sarcastic - we're good neighbours look how polite and appropriate we are with our boundaries set in stone.

There are many references to gardens and flowers in the TS back catalogue but for me this in particular recalls the lyrics from Clean "The drought was the very worst. When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst." and this line translates to me as I hate your partner because they're growing a relationship/family with you, whereas ours is dead.

The MV shows TS wiping her face to reveal tattoos that almost match those of Post Malone who plays the part of love interest in the MV. The differences are the addition of two tattoos that spell out DDP, an extra heart, and a change from a playboy bunny to what looks like a diamond. The tattoos seem to have been covered with make-up while she was chained up in the asylum, and they disappear as soon as she steps out into the other room - only to reappear onto the face of Post Malone. I don't have any theories about what DDP stands for I would love to hear other peoples. Seeing TS with secret tattoos reminds me of Dress, "made your mark on me a golden tattoo." another song about secret love.

"All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February

I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary"

Mondays being the most notoriously hated day of the week because it's the start of the work week for many people, and Feb being post-celebration winter in the northern hemisphere, I read this as - all I do is work I'm stuck in a bleak winter that won't end. I've tried every option available to get over you but it didn't work.

When she enters the writers room she's wearing a mourning dress, which could lend another layer i.e. all my mournings are mondays i.e. all of my break-ups are work/business.

The whole video is in black and white except for the sparks that fly off the pages into the air between their desks, and the fire once she sets things ablaze.

"And I love you, it's ruining my life

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you

But I touched you"

This is pretty direct but in context I read it as - I'm still in love with you, I feel stuck, I can't move on and my public image won't let me let you in, we may have only been together for a short time but we were together and I can't/won't forget it.

In the MV there are an endless array of masked figures also in black mourning attire, all with masks and hats sitting at identical desks disappearing into the horizon. Are these the other tortured poets from history, made to mask and hide behind their typewriters in a black and white world?

"And for a fortnight there, we were forever

Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather

Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors

Your wife waters flowers

I wanna kill her

And for a fortnight there, we were together

Run into you sometimes, comment on my sweater

Now you're at the mailbox, turned into good neighbors

My husband is cheating

I wanna kill him"

"My husband is cheating I wanna kill him" This could be literal cheating, however, she is not literally married so maybe that's a hint - maybe he's violating the terms of a contract? After all she's probably not in love with him since she's pining so badly after the muse of this song-? So, why would she still want to murder him? Maybe they were supposed to get lavender-married but he cancelled the wedding and now everything is in upheaval?

She is laying on the ground with PM in the middle of an image of herself made up of pages reading from "The Story of US" book, "So many things that I wish you knew. So many walls up, I can't break through" they seem to be stuck there and then they break free, pages flying in the air, and hold each other laughing. The tattoos are now gone from both faces.

"I love you, it's ruining my life

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you

I touched you"

In the MV she's back in the asylum now, hair undone/pins gone, strapped to a table surrounded by men about to have electro convulsive therapy (ECT) administered, a black dog runs through the frame. The ECG read-out is showing "I love you it's ruining my life" in the read out of her heart beat. One of the panels in the background reads "Master Control." In literature The Black Dog represents depression.

So, when her hair is unpinned she wants to be publicly out as in love with a woman, and the men who surround her and control her and her music deem it inappropriate, they want to 'fix' her. But, when the ECT runs sparks fly, the machinery overloads, she screams, and PM runs over to release her from the table.

"Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up

Another fortnight lost in America

Move to Florida, buy the car you want

But it won't start up till you touch, touch, touch me"

"Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up. Another fortnight lost in America" You won't answer my calls so we've lost another fortnight of our lives to the American culture wars - reminds me of Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince and Paris, which are also songs about running away.

They are now outside in a raging storm stuck on top of a mountain with treacherously steep sides, TS sits atop a phone box in a dress that looks like chain-mail, while PM is inside the box making a call begging..

"Move to Florida, buy the car you want but it won't start up till you touch, touch, touch me." TS has said in interview that moving to Florida in this album is a reference to people running away from their mistakes and starting fresh. She's telling the muse to ditch their partner and runaway with her, this ties back to Getaway Car which opens with "It was the best of times, the worst of crimes" which is a direct reference to A Tale of Two Cities which opens "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way".

"Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up

Another fortnight lost in America

Move to Florida, buy the car you want

But it won't start up till I touch, touch, touch you"

TS is back in the writers room, tearing open the draws, letting the pages fly into the air, crying, then stone faced in her mourning dress while the pages swirl around her burning. It reminds me of Dear Reader "Dear reader, burn all the files desert all your past lives" The version of her in the asylum smashes down the window.

And finally the version of TS on top of the phone box reaches down and holds hands with PM. She's created imagery of herself stuck inside cages, boxes, glass boxes, etc over and over through the years and this is the first time we've seen her outside and making contact with another human.

Conclusion: our protagonist has been held by force in the image of a virginal heterosexual bride, going slowly insane while she pretends that the woman she truly loves is just a friend, and she's now completely fed up and her bearding situation has gone to hell, she's asking her love to runaway with her and she's willing to metaphorically set fire to her history/her body of work to be with the one she loves.

#gaylor #lgbetty

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mythrae · 8 months

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Invisible String

Part One: Time, Curious Time

Summary: Divya is surprised to see Dammon at the tiefling party, he’s surprised she’s even speaking to her at all. And they're both surprised they have feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), things get a bit frisky, slight blood mention, otherwise just fluffy (Dammon understands consent!)

Author’s Notes:

Divya (pronounced Dih-vee-yah) is a Zariel tiefling monk. She’s also pictured below until I can find a better pic of them together.

The work title is based on the Chinese legend of the Red Thread of Fate, that there is an invisible red cord around the finger of those that are destined to meet one another, regardless of place, time, or circumstance. The magical cord may stretch or tangle, but cannot break.

Thought it was interesting how we interact with Dammon in all three acts of BG3, almost as if it was fate that brought us together 👀 so enjoy. This man needs some lovin’ and I’m gonna give it to him whether you like it or not!

Read it here on ao3 :)

“Looks like you’ve saved us once again, our noble hero.”

Dammon raised a chalice from his place at the campfire, cheering to Divya and her party on a job well done. It was no easy feat infiltrating to goblin camp and taking down its leaders, but with the fearless tiefling monk as their figurehead, anything was possible.

To celebrate their triumphant success, Zevlor had wanted to throw a proper party back at their camp, and invited all the tiefling refugees to join in on the fun. They knew there was still trouble ahead as they made the dangerous trek to Baldur’s Gate. But for now, they drank, they danced, they reveled in their own company.

They’re anticipated darker days ahead once they left the grove. But for the first time in a long time, the tieflings felt a sense of peace.

“I know I would have loved to see you take those goblins down.” He continued, “especially only using your fists. It’s remarkable what you can do without a weapon, you know.”

“Ah, thank you, Dammon.” She replied, taking a seat in the spot next to him, leaning back against the boulder behind her. “Hopefully things stay quiet for now, though, and we don’t have to battle any more goblins off. I’ve had enough adventure to tire me out for a lifetime.”

“Agreed.” He said, swiveling his red wine in his hand before taking a languid sip.

Divya looked out at the rest of the party-goers. Rolan was showing a few new tricks to Cal and Lia, Alfira was performing her newest song in dedication to Lihara, and she spied Lakrissa getting a little friendly with one of her own party members. There were a few that chose to simply watch, but everyone was smiling, happy for the first time in a long time.

“Seems most everyone’s having themselves a good time tonight. Are you?” She turned to face Dammon, his gaze watching the flames flicker in the air.

He grinned. “Hm, well now I am.”

In that moment, she thanked the Gods it was dark enough that he couldn't see her blush.

“Y’know, I’m not really one to attend gatherings like this.” He continued. “I usually like to keep to myself, if you couldn’t tell. But, well…”

He didn’t even think he’d get the chance to speak to her tonight. With how popular she had become amongst the tieflings in the grove, there wasn’t anybody who didn’t want to speak to her, to sing her praises, for giving them a second chance at life after the fall of Elturel.

Yet, here she was, sitting next to him by the fire, a smile creeping across her face as she pulled her chalice away from her lips. Full, plump, a deep maroon…

Dammon couldn’t help but wonder what her lips tasted like.

“… I wanted to see you again, before we left for Baldur’s Gate.” He finished, his eyes still gazing into the fire.

“Oh, really? And why’s that?” She playfully nudged him with her shoulder.

Though he tried to play it cool, he was burning redder than all of the Nine Hells combined.

“I’ll just... miss seeing you around the grove.” He confessed, “You have a face that few could forget.”

She chucked a bit to herself, “Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.”

She had definitely drank a little more than her usual fill of wine tonight, giving her some more confidence than she usually had. Plus, she knew he hadn’t seen her in her usual camp attire, which was a bit more revealing than what she usually wore. Seeing the way his eyes gazed upon her form made her want to be more bold, more forward with him. There were many things she wanted to say to the infernal mechanic right now, but she knew if her tongue slipped too much, she’d regret them in the morning.

She sensed Dammon move a bit closer to her, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hand.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.”

She took his hand in her own, gently rubbing his worn, dry knuckles with the soft pad of her thumb.

“I don’t mind it a bit.”

For a moment, Divya and Dammon locked eyes. His piercing blue gaze, glowing with Hellfire, felt as if it was cutting right through her skin, staring deep into her soul. The warmth in his smile made her heart nearly jump out of her chest — if she didn’t calm down, she just might burst. It felt weirdly intimate, for him to look at her this way. Like they were soulmates who had fallen in love ages ago, raised a family together, and intended to spend the rest of their days as each other’s lover, no matter where life took them.

Something about him felt… right.

But the moment was over as quickly as it started.

“Oi, Div!” She heard her fiery tiefling friend shout, startling them both, “You two should kiss!”

Divya’s hand moved from Dammon’s as her eyes darted over the roaring campfire. Above the flickering flames, she saw Karlach, joined at her tent by Wyll and Astarion. They were watching quite attentively, waiting to see who would make the first move.

“Gods above…” she muttered, her tail twitching in embarrassment. “Have you been watching us this whole time?”

“We’ve been watching for long enough,” Astarion chimes in. “But we want to see some action, darling! Put on a show for us!”

Chucking a bit, Dammon played along with the pale elf. “Hey now, we can’t get too hot and heavy out in the open, or else Karlach’s engine might explode!”

Gods, help me...

“Please excuse my companions here,” Wyll calls out, placing his hands on Astarion’s shoulders. “They’ve had a few too many tonight. I think it’s time to get them some rest.”

“What are you talking about?” Astarion retorted, shrugging off the warlock’s touch, “I haven’t even had anything to drink yet!”

Dammon laughed as he sipped the last few drops of his wine. “They seem like a wild lot.”

“You don’t even want to know the half of it.”

He looked up at the twinkling night sky, the full moon rising higher and higher above camp. “Seems it is getting a bit late, though.”

“Sad, isn’t it? We haven’t had a single moment to ourselves.” She tutted, taking another sip from her chalice.

“Well, I’m happy to share any moment with you.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

“Well…” she hesitated, realizing what she was about to ask him before actually saying it aloud. It had been a long time since she had been with anyone, in that sort of sense. Especially since Elturel had fallen, and her whole life got turned upside down.

But the way Dammon looked at her — Gods, the way she felt herself melt under his gaze — made her feel excited, anxious, and lustful, all at once.

“… if you’d like, you can come back to my tent later, once things have settled down a bit.”

She couldn’t take the words back know, she just had to hope that he was feeling the same way about her.

“I’d love to.” He says, giving her a wink before standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

***

Divya was usually calm and collected while in battle. Escaping the Nautiloud? Easy. Fighting off hoards of goblins? Not a problem.

But right now, for the first time in a long time, she was anxious.

When was the last time she shared a bed with another? Sure, she’s had a few partners that got so lucky, but she had known these people more than a tenday. Sure, she felt close to the handsome tiefling, but there was so much she didn't know about him. What if he tried to slit her throat in the middle of the night?

She was already feeling nervous about him visiting her tent tonight. But she was also worried about him not showing up at all.

Rejection from anyone feels awful. She's dealt with it, she's also given it. Hells, she had to reject Gale's advances just the other day. But a rejection from Dammon would hurt worse than getting a stake jabbed through her heart.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she heard the rustle of grass further out in the trees, then the light tapping of footsteps in the dirt of their camp. Soft, as if not to disturb the others. The sounds came closer and closer to her tent, until she saw a familiar shape standing at the entrance.

“Div?” Dammon whispered, “Are you awake?”

She opened the flap to her tent, her nerves rising as she saw him actually coming to see her. He has changed from his apron into a much more comfortable shirt and pair of trousers, which clung to his body in all the right places. He wasn’t even wearing his green scarf, her cheeks warm from seeing his chest peeking through the neckline of his shirt…

“Dammon!” She said softly, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “I’m surprised you actually came.”

“And miss out on seeing your beautiful face again?” He replied, dipping his head into the entrance of the tent as he sat across from her. “Not a chance.”

“Beautiful?” She nearly laughed out loud, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me beautiful after defeating an entire goblin camp before.”

“I s’pose there’s a first time for everything.” He smiled, reaching and cupping her face with his hands. His hands were rough, cracked from years spent working in the forge, but his touch was delicate, soft, like he didn’t want to break her.

Holding Divya’s face so close to his own, Dammon never noticed how many freckles she had, sprinkled across her cheeks like the stars above. He saw her spots where her skin lost its pigmentation, no doubt a bit of an insecurity of hers. Her septum piercing, one that he didn't see too often among other tieflings. And her eyes, that didn’t have the same Hellfire glow that many of their had, but glowed in their own way…

All of it made her who she is. And he thought everything about her was beautiful.

When he kissed her for the first time, he was gentle, careful, as if he could make her fall to pieces if he did too much, too soon. Her lips tasted like the wine she was sipping on through the night — red, rich, with a just hint of sweetness.

Absolutely delicious.

When she kissed him back, he craved her more, wanting to get drunk off her lips alone. Caution was thrown to the wayside as their kiss went deeper and deeper, as one of his hands moved to the nape of her neck and the other at her waist. Gods, the way the soft skin of her body felt under his touch nearly made him melt. It tugged at his loins so greatly, he was almost ready to burst.

Divya pulled on Dammon’s shirt collar, as if begging him to give her more. He obliged, shifting their bodies so she laid on her back and he was mounted over her. He broke the kiss to plant extra pecks along her jawline, her neck, until he bit her — hard, hearing her yelp in delight.

“Nine Hells, I could listen to that sound all day.”

His hot, wet tongue lapped at the broken skin, cleaning up the little drops of blood seeping from her wound.

“That is, as long as I’m the one making you sound like that.”

He moved up to kiss her lips once more, his hunger growing by the moment. She could sense his hands setting themselves at her waist as his lower body pressed into hers. Her breath hitched as she felt that his desire had grown for her, rather large and intimidating. One of his hands slid itself under her top, fondling the swell of her breast…

Stop, her mind interrupted her train of thought, her eyes going wide with panic, you’re not ready for this yet.

As much as her body had told her to give herself to him tonight, her mind was begging her to slow things down.

It wasn’t that she had a bad feeling about the infernal mechanic on top of her, not at all. But in her heart, she wasn't ready for this kind of divine intimacy, for their two bodies to quite literally become one. With him, she wanted to take her time.

She had real feelings for him. And over time, as long as they stayed alive, she wanted something real between them.

“Ah, Dammon…” she breaks their kiss, taking a moment to catch her breath.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can we… can we take this a bit slower, please?” She turned away from him, feeling embarrassed for interrupting him so quickly, “I’m, ah...”

“Are you okay?”

Her head spun back to look at his face, eyes glowing like baby blue stars in the midnight sky.

Fuck, he’s so handsome.

“I’m okay, promise. I just might… not be ready for all this right now.”

In the past, if she told someone she wasn’t ready to spend a night like that with them, they would usually get angry with her, sometimes even storming away like a child throwing a tantrum. It was something she was used to by now, with long term partners and late night trysts alike.

But Dammon? He was different.

“I understand, trust me.” He replied, shifting his weight back to give her some space to breathe. “Do you… want me to stay with you?”

She sat up in her bedroll, reaching to hold his hands in her own. “I do, please. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“Oh, it’ll be sooner than you know it, I’m sure.” He smiled, kissing the back of each of her hands.

“I hope so,” she sighed. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Can… can you just hold me?” she asked sheepishly.

“Your wish is my command.”

Divya shifted in her bedroll, giving Dammon space to lie on his back. As he settled himself on the wool blanket, she rolled to her side, resting her head on his strong, sturdy chest. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling the two of them close together, keeping them warm as a cool breeze blew through their camp.

“Mmm, this feels nice,” she whispered.

“Haven’t had a good night’s rest in a while?”

“Oh, are you kidding? With this bunch? Definitely not!”

She shared with him stories of their journey so far — infiltrating a dungeon of massive spiders, meeting a devil (hells, multiple devils, actually), running into a bugbear rutting an ogre, and even taking down a hag in her own lair.

“We also met this mummy in a crypt named Withers who stays with us in camp,” she continued, “and I think he actually might be a God!”

“You don’t say?” He replied, nearly in disbelief. “Seems like you’ve got quite the party to share your travels with.”

“They sure are… different, but they’re great companions.” She concluded. “Say, have you done a lot of adventuring? At least, before Elturel fell.”

“Can’t say I have, honestly.” He answered. “I’ve spent most of my years working in the forge, getting better and better at my craft.”

“And it’s definitely paid off,” she said, “My colleagues have enjoyed using the weapons you’ve made for us.”

“Really? Well, that’s a surprise, considering the state of my shop.”

“Didn’t you mention having to work with wooden tools?”

“Yes, Gods yes! I don’t know what those damned druid’s were thinking.”

Dammon shared how he had to scavenge for metal, pilfering through the corpses of dead goblins to bring to his little forge. How the forge couldn’t get as hot as he wanted it to be, so he worried that the quality of his weapons he made had declined. And how the elderly human across the way, Auntie Ethel, had made odd passes at him and offered to give him as much metal he would ever want — until one day, she vanished, never stepping foot back in the grove.

As he drabbled on about his time in the grove, he realized that the female tiefling had fallen silent. Turning his head, he saw she was fast asleep in his arms.

Beautiful, even as she sleeps.

“Sleep well, Divya.” He whispers, his lips brushing the tip of her nose as he kissed her one last time before he dozed off.

***

Dammon woke up before the sun has crept over the horizon. As he slowly gained consciousness, he realized that in the night, the two had shifted positions — her back was pressed into his chest, his arm wrapped around her, fingers intertwined. Looking down, he also noticed the tips of their tails were wrapped together.

Carefully, he sat up in the tent, observing Divya as she slept soundly in her bedroll. He watched how her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, the curl of her lashes as they rested perfectly on the top of her cheeks, the way her lips were slightly parted while she slept, how she laid her hand to support her head, even with a pillow underneath…

He wasn't lying to himself when he thought that every part of her was beautiful.

He moved a stray hair from her face, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. She stirred lightly, and Dammon thought up a quick prayer to the Gods above that she wouldn’t wake up in that moment.

"Mmm... Dammon..." she mumbled, a soft smile crossing her face.

In that moment, he could feel her pulling at his heartstrings.

Hells, he didn’t want to leave her, not yet. But Zevlor insisted that the refugees begin their trek Baldur’s Gate as soon as dawn broke. If he didn't make it to the caravan in time, he would get at best an earful from their leader. At worst... he didn't even want to fathom.

But what if this was the last moment he would ever spend with Divya at his side? What if the tieflings didn't make it to the city? What if she was killed before he got to see her again?

I have to fight on, he thought. If not for my future, then for her to be a part of it. And just hope she does the same for me.

He leaned in one last time, pressing a goodbye kiss to her cheek. He wanted to savor this moment, for he didn’t know when he would see her again

"See ya soon, Div."

In the dewy morning fog, Dammon left the party’s campsite and began his journey to Baldur's Gate, to his new start at life. And he hoped that some day, Divya could share it with him.

Click here to read pt 2 :)

#mythrae writes #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 dammen #baldurs gate 3 dammon #dammon bg3 #mythrae's tav #mythrae's oc #bg3 #Dammon is a hopeless romantic #send tweet #Spotify

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polydeuces · 1 year

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𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the sequel to the beloved The View From the Afternoon !! fans curiosity about the suspected relationship rises when y/n posted lyrics from one the bands songs.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫: alex turner x fem! reader

𝐚/𝐧: knowing me it’ll be the new year or something by the time this gets published! so, happy holidays and cheers to a new year! 🥂

liked by arcticalex, cigarettesatthecornerstore, and 2,945 others

y/nlivesforrocknroll: Spotify Wrapped?

On y/n’s recent instagram story she shares her most listened to artist.. arctic monkeys. Later she shared the lyrics the lyrics to The Last Shadow Puppets (former English supergroup consisting of Alex Turner, Miles Kane, James Ford, and Zach Dawes.) song titled Sweet Dreams, TN.

It’s rumored that Turner and L/n are in a relationship and have been for a while, maybe even during tlsp era, though nothing has been confirmed. Fans have been analyzing the lyrics Y/n chose to share. Could this song be about her or resonate with her and that’s why she’s sharing it?Are they dating or is it just a coincidence?

view all 96 comments

cigarettesatthecornerstore: far too many coincidences to explain this one away; there’s something going on.

y/nsbabymama: she’s so real for this

alexturntable: we NEED a deep dive like twitter thread of all the things that connect them. ⤿ babyboyal: omfg wait a connect between them like maybe an invisible string?? 🥺 ⤿ alexturntable: SHUT UP what if she wrote invisible string about him please my heart can’t even take it

arcticalex: Or, and I know it sounds crazy, she just likes the band. That’s it. There doesn’t always have to be some crazy thing.

kindontheeyes: If y’all get my hopes up and they aren’t actually together its an unfollow for all of you

milesawayfromu: OH? fanof505:1 used to pray for times like this

b0dyp4int: someone sedate me

liked by matthelderz, littleamandablank, and 493 others

alexnotalex: The lights were bright.

view all 628 comments

matthelderz: no, you just wanted to look cool, grandpa.

littleamandablank: imagine coming home to Alex. ⤿ iamy/n: I do and let me shatter the pretty illusion; he stinks and is sweaty because he refuses to take a shower in his dressing room. He says it just isn’t the same… 🙄

ben_chappell_: it’s times like these that i wish you were public with the relationship because i so badly want to post y/n’s comment.. it’s so funny

myleshendrik: Always put on an amazing show

liked by reesewitherspoon, sadiesink_, estehaim, and 1,853,294 others

iamy/n: YOU ARE ANONYMOUS, I AM A CONCRETE WALL.

view all 294,824 comments

estehaim: you, me, champagne - tonight! 🥂

reesewitherspoon: 🥰

lizzobeeating: rockstar BABY I love u

blakelively: Omg the cat shirt!!

tovelo: instead of 32 it’s 33 and still growing up now 🥹

selenagomez: my shining star 🌟💞

sadiesink_: you’re so cute

matthelders: since when did you play chess

#the view from the afternoon #alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x reader #alex turner x famous reader #social media post #y/n smau #alex turner fake instagram #fake ig #y/n instagram #saturns masterpiece #anon request #taylor swift instagram #taylor swift fanfic #taylor swift fluff #taylor swift #instagram blurb

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tiffanylamps · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝑩𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍 (𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚)

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟏: 나타나다 Pals, I wrote this post months ago (maybe at the end of last year??? I don't know). I wrote it with the intention of rewatching the whole show and doing episode reviews/documenting my musings. But.... life got in the way (as it always does).

But as today is the two year anniversary of the first episode airing, I thought I might as well share what I wrote. Even though it only covers the first like... 20 minutes of the episode lol

Having said that, I will note that there's definitely an abundance of rambling, as well as me taking the piss out of Joo Won, and of course, me thirsting HARD for Shin Ha Kyun 😌 So, are you wearing your glasses? Cause, I am. fyi, you're going to need a drink and maybe a snack because this is a very long post. I hope you enjoy what I share. Please note: Do not read this if you haven’t seen the whole show. It contains major spoilers.

Part 1/2 (??) Okay, out of all 16 episodes, the first is the one I have seen the most. I have previously done a ridiculous review of it, which you can read here. ⬅️ Now for my unorganised thoughts (which have been organised more as bullet points than anything else):

I like BE’s intro/title sequence. There are some very sexy scene selections and colour grading. I’m personally a little fatigued when it comes to glitch art, so the little 90s-inspired glitch effects don’t “wow” me. But I still appreciate that they included this in the overall design of the show’s aesthetic

here are some of my favourite shots

⬆️ THAT'S GAY! Dong Sik looking down with his eyes open and Joo Won looking up with his eyes closed??? heaven vs hell, open mind vs closed mind. Bound together by cuffs (their version of the red thread of fate) on THEIR LEFT HANDS. resting their heads against each other????? Excuse me, but this has no right being so obvious

I didn’t like the soundtrack when I first watched the show… I know… I know. I did like a few songs but overall, I wasn’t too keen on the general sound. Now, however??

i'm grooving Also, does anyone else get... you know... in the opening scene when Dong Sik demands Ji Hoon to put his flashlight into the air so he can find him?? 😳 sir, give me a chance! I like a logical man (who canonically was just flirting with his future boyfriend)

Also, I like that Ji Hoon is wearing a yellow and blue raincoat in this scene. I wonder if this is a slight nod to the yellow raincoat serial killer, Yoo Young Chul?? Also, visually, it is an early indicator of Ji Hoon’s age, as he (out of the three men in the scene) is the only one wearing bright primary colours, which is often associated with young children/younger people. It could also be a subtle indication of his profession, as the South Korean police use blue, yellow, and red as a part of their emblem's colour scheme. It is also an efficient way of adding contrast to an otherwise very dark and semi-monochromatic scene.

"동식아"/ “Dong Sik-ah”- JUST YES. Through the power of honorifics alone, we are able to gauge the nature of Ji Hoon’s relationship with Dong Sik, before they've even shared the same space onscreen.

Including Dong Sik’s heartbeat during this part of this scene - told entirely from his perspective - is a very nice touch of immediately humanising him to the audience and indicating the gravity of this event.

Cut to the year 2000 and we're immediately shown the killer (1 of 2). Jin Mook’s van is shown passing through various locations throughout Manyang as a way to establish the location, the events of the era, and the personality of the town. But what the creators do so artfully here is they showcase to us how Jin Mook was able to go on for 20 years without being suspected by his fellow townsfolk. We, the audience, just like everyone else in the story, do not pay attention to him/his van. Instead, we focus on the people and locations he passes through. He is almost invisible, but he is like a poison or an air bubble passing through the bloodstream, you can’t always see him, but he kills the host either way.

This sequence of events also mirrors how Joo Won is introduced

We are shown Jin Mook delivering a bouquet of flowers for a funeral (belonging to the Lee family. Which I'm guessing Jin Mook maaay have worked for or at the very least, helped out), and then immediately to Yu Yeon’s fingers.

Then we are shown Yu Yeon in the glow of the hazy sunlight basking through the church window as if she is an angel or more of a memory than a living person.

“Even when injustice strikes our world. Even when mistrust spreads. We will only believe in our Lord.” “Our world is covered in darkness. Lord, please light our world.”

These are the lyrics to the song the choir is singing. How… yeeeeah… how appropriate for the rain scene in episode 16.

I love the tenderness we see in Kim Young Hee (Yu Yeon and Dong Sik's mum). Honestly, I adore her! What a wonderful mother that loved her children and tried to do right by them. I love that Dong Sik got his curly hair from his mother, and I love that he has her wide smile (it's a smile the twins share). I love that you can see how proud Young Hee is of Yu Yeon and that, even though Dong Sik is “bringing down the family name”, you can tell that she still loves him dearly.... even if he’s a little shit.

Also, we do not give enough credit to the makeup department for the way they transformed Park Myung Shin’s appearance.

Oh god. Not Dong Sik not turning up to his grandmother’s funeral service…. In a scene where they just brought up the concept of karma, and how Dong Sik is bringing bad karma to the family… 🙃🙃

Here he is choosing not to say goodbye to a family member (in a church, no less), then later in the same day, he loses his twin sister, and then 3 years later, his father dies. He doesn’t go to the funeral of one family member and loses two family members by force…. Almost like he’s being punished for his “poor” choices. He was released from the army to attend his father’s funeral (where he was the “상주”/Sangju/Chief Mourner. He is shown all alone before Sang Bae came to support him), and then much later on, he is shown again choosing to go and to be the Chief Mourner of two more funerals (Kang Min Jeong and Nam Sang Bae). It is only when he completes this does he find out who Yu Yeon's killer is; almost as if he’s made up for his bad karma??? Am I pulling smoke out of my arse here? Probably

NOT DONG SIK BADLY SINGING ALONG TO A SONG WITHOUT A CARE! Nope. nope. STOP 😭😭😭

I find the way the three females in this scene interact with Dong Sik to be veeerrry interesting. There are no giggles, no exchanging of telling glances, no blushing, teasing, and definitely no flirting. None of them finds Dong Sik attractive (they have no taste) or believes that he finds them attractive. There is no indication of any romantic connection between him and them. They only view him as someone they can openly laugh at because he’s (in their eyes) an annoyance: someone worthy of their laughter. This scene could have been an easy way for the show to make Dong Sik het, but they didn’t do that, leaving his sexuality and relationship status during his younger years unknown to us. (Considering he didn’t go to church and that he has no romantic tension with any of the girls in his age group, it really says a lot👀)

I really like Bang Ju Seon… she’s so cool and a little mean but I respect her for it! Although....

This is uncool. But I do like that they interrogated this into the story and that it was subtly explored through Dong Sik's actions throughout the show

Young Dong Sik is really given way too much shit. They’re acting like he’s the worst kid on the block (i’m exaggerating), when in reality, he’s a 20-year-old hanging out at a music cafe in his local town. Yeah, he “starts fights”* (as noted in the church scene) but his face isn’t bruised or bloody. He’s not shown smoking or doing drugs; he’s not getting anyone pregnant. He’s just a teenager in a small religious town, who’s clearly feeling the pressures and restrictions placed upon him. He’s just trying to have fun. He’s not sure where his life is going next and honestly, that’s super okay. Poor baby, he really didn’t deserve what that town did to him. *throughout his childhood, Dong Sik would beat up bullies. But I do love how these small details of his teenage self are used as fuel for the fire. Because of his “bad” behaviour, the people in the town were quick to believe that he committed sororicide. The detail that Dong Sik is "nothing" in comparison to Yu Yeon was probably seen as a motive (he was angry about being second best and was jealous of YY, etc)

Yu Yeon has a picture of her and her mum together [top left-hand corner], just like Jae Yi.

Also, her room reminds me of Min Jeong’s

I like the detail of Yu Yeon sneaking out. It shows that she and Dong Sik aren’t as different as everyone makes them out to be. Also, I like that we’re led to believe that it was Dong Sik that “lured” her out of the house.

The Lee’s family home was so nice!! 😭😭😭😭

NO! NOt the camera lingering on where Yu Yeon’s fingers end up!

YU YEON AND DONG SIK BOTH WEAR PLAID SHIRTS. Do you think she’s wearing one of Dong Sik’s shirts??? Cause I do.

I also like that the camera focuses on Yu Yeon tucking her hair behind her ear. In visual media, this is often used to convey bashful/shyness/romantic feelings from young women. So, without words, we are being told that she’s thinking about/on her way to meet a romantic love interest.

ALSO!!! Due to the fact that the city council weren’t distributing funds equally throughout Manyang (it’s noted that they spend their budget on the densely populated areas), the lights are turned off on the road. This leads to Yu Yeon becoming scared and deciding to run to meet up with Jung Je. Perhaps, if the lights have been left on, she wouldn’t have felt scared, meaning she wouldn’t have run, and wouldn’t have ended up coming across Jin Mook murdering Ju Seon… meaning… maybe she wouldn’t have died that night.

I get shivers every time they pan down to Ju Seon's body

The religious imagery!!! The angel statue is first shown with Yu Yeon, then Ju Seon, Young Hee, Dong Sik, and then finally, Joo Won.

Okay, so this heartbreaking scene of Young Hee finding her daughter's fingers. Other than the obvious (and the way she stretches her hand out towards Yu Yeon, foreshadowing how even though she can no longer hold her daughter, she'll never let go😭😭), please note that Dong Sik and his mother have the same singing voice 🫠

Then we cut back to 20 years later/present day. But the show makes sure to show us that Seoul expanded and grew, but Manyang stayed the same/got worse (a.k.a became purgatory)

The female gaze is so sexy here. THIS IS ~THE~ INTRODUCTION SCENE OF ALL INTRODUCTION SCENES. Can you believe that Joo Won got to sleep with this man??? I honestly think about this scene every time I wash my face… that’s probably super sad but… here we are. Also, I know it doesn't need to be said but.... SHIN HA KYUN 😩😩😩😩

The shot of Dong Sik walking through his family home, with the camera following him to reveal the way the house hasn’t changed (has only been touched by time) is one of my favourite shots of the show. We are given so much information with a singular pan of the camera 😩

We are shown Dong Sik walking through his family home, stuck in time. Then the next introduction we are given is Joo Won, in his flashy sports car on his way to Manyang. It’s the equivalent of a slow-mo shot of a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun and the journey it takes before it reaches its destination. (Dong Sik is walking around in circles. Joo won is moving in a straight line, heading directly to Dong Sik. DS is shown wearing browns and reds. JW is first seen in a bright blue car. Dong Sik is shown as a person inside a family home, and Joo Won is shown inside a machine. What I’m trying to get at is that they’re shown as opposites)

NO. FUCK OFF! I JUST REALISED SOMETHING: jwds are both shown twice through glass/mirrors during their introduction sequence. (side note: I love that they're given equal attention during this sequence, it really establishes that this is their story)

Dong Sik is shown shaving- as in shedding a layer, preparing himself for the day, and getting ready for his next performance (which is something he has to overcome)

We first see Dong Sik through a fogged-up mirror, then through a completely distorted mirror. Further proving that the person we are being shown is viewed as a reflection of our perspective of him, and not the person he truly is

Joo Won is shown looking through the car window with the sun beaming on it- detailing to us that he is blinded (which is something he has to overcome)

His view is insular and dictated by the "bubble" he was brought up in/keeps himself in. He also looks out to the world through an unclear perspective.

Dong Sik is shown looking at his own distorted reflection, whereas Joo Won is looking out through the glass. Neither has a clear vision of what they're about to face. (And only when Dong Sik isn’t hiding behind his facade and Joo Won starts seeing with clear eyes are they able to unveil the truth.)

Am I making a mountain out of a molehill??? Or am I onto something here?

(Also, it should be illegal for a show to have two leads that are this attractive. That is genuinely one of the things I liked the most about BE, the first time around and even now😂 In my opinion, Shin Ha Kyun and Yeo Jin Goo are equally matched in their looks. Ngl, it’s a nice element to their partnership on screen haha)

When I saw Jin Goo’s face for the first time, I remember thinking, “gosh, he’s wearing a lot of makeup” 😂😂 But I will note that I like the way the makeup department decided to present Joo Won. He isn't too dulled up, he's not perfect (you can see Jin Goo's skin texture, his scars, and some spots/zits every now and then) and in comparison to other shows Jin Goo's been in, he looks way less airbrushed, and more like a person wearing makeup. It just looks like Joo Won is choosing to wear makeup, which I personally really like for his character. Basically, he's pretty but not perfect

[Cut to the salon scene] I like that it is noted that Lee Kang Ja’s husband is a cop, and how it’s understandable for the audience to believe that Dong Sik is her husband… but nah 👀😂 Also, I swear that Lee Kang Ja calls Dong Sik “Dong Sik-ah” (which… given her and Gil Goo’s involvement in his framing and the cover-up that ruined Dong Sik’s life, is suuuuper fucked up)

Also, I like that class and financial income is brought up in this scene. It adds substance to the kind of area Manyang is

I reaaaally like that we get to see Dong Sik doing his job without Joo Won making us believe that he’s guilty of something. We see that Dong Sik is observant, patient, kind, calm, and authoritative. He knows the law and understands when to apply it (👀😈)

Park Ji A... oh what I would give to be in your shoes right now. Also, thank fuck for Dong Sik that Joo Won never saw this… he may have gotten ideas 👀😂 (also tag yourself. i'm ji hoon at the window)

Honestly, this scene is kind of hilarious because it's like the only time the show dedicates this much screen time to comedy, and the way they chose to do it is by showing people disregarding Dong Sik's person 🙃 [cut to the station scene]

Up until the scene inside the station, we have been told by multiple people that Dong Sik isn’t/was not as accomplished as Yu Yeon. Which kind of implies that he wasn’t as academically accomplished, and perhaps, not as smart. But then we are shown Dong Sik resighting individual articles from the criminal code from memory, proving that these claims against him were false (it really sets up a precedent, doesn't it???)

Side note: Gwang Young is such a brown-noser and I really like that about him. He’s a bitch- a harmless bitch but a bitch nonetheless, and I fucking love it!! 😂😂😂 (I just wanted 1 bitch-off between him and Joo Won. Like a proper one! Where neither wants to back down)

This scene just proves that Dong Sik is the smartest in the room and is one step ahead of everyone and is sooooo bored. It’s the perfect time for someone smart and new to come into his life to shake things up, isn’t it? 👀 Also, the women from the salon were taken to the station with perming lotion on their hair… GOODBYE HAIR!! SEE YA! RIP. That hair is literally being burned off as they argue over their innocence

I love the first time Joo Won arrives (properly… aside from his stalking) at the station, we are shown him pausing to observe what is happening. Joo Won is highlighted as an outsider, looking in

Not Gil Goo wanting to break the rules and asking Dong Sik to let things slide!!!!!

💀💀 isn't that what he gets arrested for in the end???

🔊ATTENTION. ATTENTION. PLEASE MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION. HAN JOO WON HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING. I repeat... HAN JOO WON HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING 🔊 🚨 IN FUCKING SLOW MO!!!!🚨

The “sea” of women part, making way for him… kind of like how the Red Sea parts for Moses, js

Of course, Dong Sik doesn’t look up from the computer until he hears THAT voice… I get it, Dong Sik, no judgement here. I totally get it. 😌

Joo Won has the fucking AUDACITY to sigh before introducing himself! Girl, YOU SET THIS UP. YOU WANTED THIS. THIS IS YOUR BIG MOMENT. WHY ARE YOU SIGHING??? (maybe it’s cause he knows he can’t go back now??)

🫠Yeo jin goo’s voice should be illegal🫠 Them:

Me:

In case you were wondering… dong sik fancies joo won from the get-go 🤷‍♀️ i don't make the rules Note: This is also the last scene Joo Won has any resemblance of “coolness” or can be seen as “chill”, which is hilarious considering all the hoops he put himself through to get to this moment 😂

In the scene with Joo Won and Sang Bae, I’m really taken aback by how young Joo Won seems. I know it’s because Jin Goo was like 22(??) when they filmed this, but yeah… he seems very… unprepared for what he’s about to face (which he is) “Delaying things isn’t really my style” Well, you sure did delay arresting Dong Sik, didn’t you???? I guess with everything in Joo Won’s strict life, Dong Sik is the exception to the rule

Joo Won’s first question about his new job is “who is my partner?” and I’m just screaming. I wrote about this scene here (but I’ll sum it up now: I think he wanted Dong Sik to be his partner)

Sang Bae isn’t really the kind of person to care about other people’s opinions of him. But in his first scene with Joo Won, he seems almost embarrassed that his computer crashes. He has a nervous energy and keeps laughing to downplay that embarrassment. Do you think he knew Joo Won came from Seoul and was worried that his smaller substation (later referred to as “the worst” substation by Hyuk) may be looked down upon?? Or… perhaps it’s all an act to make Joo Won warm up to him???

One of my favourite scenes of the whole show is where Dong Sik is pretending not to listen to the gang when they're talking about Joo Won. I. LOVE. IT!!! I love how much he wants us to know that he “doesn’t care”, but then just ends up showing us that he really does, in fact, care. I personally think that he likes what he hears about Joo Won’s accolades (although he's singing THIS to himself😂), and only seems to sour once he’s informed of who Joo Won’s father is. His disappointment is soooo apparent. He cannot and does not hide it. That’s a super interesting detail to include… it says a lot. (it's also the first time in the show that Dong Sik shows any interest in someone). Dong Sik learns that HKH is Joo Won’s dad, and his first reaction is quiet disappointment, NOT excitement… He cares more about Joo Won, the person, and not Joo Won, the chess piece. Hmmmmmmmmm... interesting.

(it's okay baby, you'll get him in the end dw)

Note that the camera lingers on Dong Sik when Gil Goo points out that Joo Won is handsome and physically fit… 👀👀👀👀 Also, when Joo Won is put down on paper, he’s super impressive and almost untouchable. But through Dong Sik, we get to see that it’s bullshit. Joo Won isn’t the person his father wants him to be (i.e, the perfect student and police officer). I really like that we’ve been told to be impressed by him, without getting to know him, and it’s only when we get to know Joo Won, do we get to see that he’s a walking contradiction (and he’s as human as everyone else). We shouldn’t view him through the narrow lens he and his father put him in, because he is so much more than that Sang Bae lets Dong Sik process a missing person’s case, even if they technically can’t do it within the confines of the law!!! 😩 Fucking hell, they really showed that guilt from the get-go, didn't they??? This scene is so goddamn important for the whole show!!! I JUST!! Ah! and of course it’s Dong Sik who first highlights the restrictive nature of the SK's laws. Joo Won watches this whole interaction (and gets turned on). He listens to the difference between a “runaway” and a missing person… what does Joo Won’s job become at the end of the show?????? 😩😩 I'm fine, I promise Joo Won leaves the station after getting one last look at Dong Sik and then later on (how long was he driving around Manyang, cause it is daytime and suddenly it’s nighttime??) in his car checking Dong Sik out, are the first warning signs of the Inner Slut ™ begging to be unleashed.

Also, I guess Dong Sik walked to work that day???

When I first watched BE, I wasn’t a huge fan of Dong Sik popping pills for his leg injury*. I’m still on the fence about the fact that he bites the pills and seems to eat them, instead of swallowing them whole. But then again, this guy is severely depressed and a smoker, so maybe he doesn’t care about the taste… or for the health of his teeth and gums???? It doesn't matter. I'm convinced that Dong Sik was thinking about Lee Sang Yeob in this scene because Joo Won reminds him of him (they have glaring similarities) and that's what causes his leg pain *During my first watch, I immediately knew it was psychosomatic pain. It’s a pretty easy visual motif to show us that he’s dealing with unresolved trauma.

Gosh, Joo Won really did watch Dong Sik cross the road, getting all horny cause Dong Sik can recite the criminal code from memory… and then later uses it as a way to flirt, showing that he cares enough to listen and that he retains that information... that really is one of Joo Won’s biggest love languages

ugh. Gay people.

So, yeah... that's all I wrote and I don't have the brain power to finish it. But I hope that was entertaining for you all See ya!

#beyond evil #jtbc beyond evil #jwds #chatty lamps

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autisticlenaluthor · 3 months

Note

#3 & #36 Thanks in advance. Hope it helped a tiny bit to stave off boredom

3. how would you describe your writing style?

i feel like my writing is very character/emotions driven and less plot driven. i like to dive into everyone’s intentions and actions and motivations for things. ofc there’s focus on the big conflicts and obstacles too but i really like writing character driven things

36. how do you come up with fic titles? what’s the one you’re most proud of?

i am horrible at titles and normally hate my titles lol, they’re almost always song lyrics. the one i like the most is ‘one single thread of gold’ which comes from the taylor swift song, Invisible String

#ask #thank you for sending!!

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pepperonibread · 4 months

Text

My Little Darlin’ Knows My Nature

“Such a mysterious business, motherhood. How brave a woman must be to embark on it.” ― M. L. Stedman, 'A Light Between Oceans' READ ON AO3 or below the line break Title inspired by this song Vibes

A/N: OKAY, so I have a lot of feelings about this. I've been listening to a lot of different music lately, and been thinking about things in my head, and I have so much going on in my life right now. But I got an idea in my head at work the other day, and those that know my ADHD brain well knew the second I got on lunch I was on my phone ignoring the middle aged people I work with and WRITING. So I wrote until like 3am last night, dehydrated and crying internally. But here's the thing that makes this different (if it holds any significance at all, which it probably doesn't), I wrote this for me. Not with the intention of sharing it not with the idea of creating something for others to read, or bothering to care what people thing of it. I think a lot of the time we get so wrapped up in peoples opinions of writing and what others think, that we don't realize it could negatively effect our writing or our creativity. It's a hard realization, especially with imposter syndrome. Taking a break from actively writing for this fandom (and not jazzing up things I never posted) may have been a good decision for my creativity? I was able to focus on my original work, and really decide who I wanted to be as a writer, which is just someone who tells stories regardless of what people think of them. Also, I found you the illness I have could be passed down to any children I have, so maybe me being kind of bummed out about that may have been a little bit of inspiration for this. If you enjoy my work, please feel free to let me know. Also don't @ me, I don't know how horses work. As always, I suck at editing.

Kiran's mind wandered as she brushed her horse, Twister. She couldn't help but wonder how long horses typically lived, and if Twister was considered old for a horse. She hoped that he would outlive her, but she couldn't shake the nagging worry in the back of her mind.

She had asked Cooper about it before, curious if she could still ride him despite his age. How many years did horses usually live for anyway? What was their natural lifestyle like before humans domesticated them? And why was she thinking about this so much lately?

The more she dwelled on these thoughts, the heavier her heart felt. But then she remembered the advice of an old rancher: "You still see me walkin' around don't ya? No matter how ya feel, sometimes you just have to do yer job. Twister understands that. Trust me."

Cooper had been the one to gift her Twister, back when he wasn't as old, and the nickname "old man" came from his temper more so than his age. Cooper had also mentioned that the horse was just as stubborn as she was.

Despite this, she still took the time to talk to him and bring her young daughters to see him whenever they asked. She would lift up Beatrice or Adeline, depending on who needed it at the time; so they could reach out and touch the horse's nose or neck.

Evangeline was different. She didn't need help reaching out to Twister, for he would bow his head down to her. From a young age, the girl had an uncanny affinity for the horse. It was as if they shared an unspoken understanding, an invisible thread of connection that echoed the natural bond between girl and beast. But maybe Kiran had looked too much into it.

Despite his hot temper and stubborn nature, Twister always calmed down when Kiran's children were around. It was a pleasant sight for her, reminiscent of visits to her Uncle in Portia as a child. Her father used to lift her up so she could stand on the edge of the stable where Cloud, a mare, resided. She was tiny back then, but for a long time, all she could think about was how big she was compared to the animals; like her life had meant so little compared to theirs.

"Horses are great at keeping secrets," her father always said. And as a young child, she believed him. She was small and innocent, and no one ever suspected that she could be a reliable confidant. But they underestimated the horses, for they heard everything, even if they couldn't speak. The only secrets she had at five were her own. Even then, she wasn't sure if the horse understood or not when she whispered her hopes for the future: "I wish to be strong, brave, and smart like my Pop!" Of course, Kiran never learned how to keep her voice down back then, so her father heard every word from his spot right beside her. He chuckled at her words, a rich and hearty sound that echoed within the confines of the stable.

"Ah, Kiran," he'd said, placing a hand on her small head, his touch as familiar as the rhythm of a lullaby. "You’ll be stronger, braver, and smarter than your old Pop. You just wait."

Kiran let out a deep breath, placing her hand on the soft material of the saddle horn. As the desert sun slowly dipped below the horizon, its warm orange glow enveloped everything around her. She couldn't help but feel grateful for its beauty. If she could go back in time and tell her childhood self one thing, it would be that this color - this stunning sunset color - would become her favorite.

The passage of time often changed a lot of things, but the true beauty of the desert would never become irrelevant, even as the sandstorms proved to be an occasional annoyance. She urged Twister, who had decided to stop again for seemingly no reason.

Something's not right with this guy, she thought, perhaps a bit uncharitably, but nobody else could hear her inner monologue. And he was just a horse after all.

Maybe he was simply tired of it all. Perhaps he could sense Kiran's mounting frustration with her husband, which drove her to spend all day riding and trying to clear her mind. She knew deep down that Logan's stubbornness was a part of his core identity, and she found some comfort in that. He would never be able to change completely, no matter what they went through. This was his world, and they were just living in it. Just like Twister who, despite the wear and tear of his old bones and the passing seasons, seemed to exist in his own world. A world where he was king, reigning over the vast expanse of dry desert and arid grassland with an iron fist (or rather, hoof). He moved when he wanted to, snacked when he pleased, and didn't give a damn about what anyone else thought. In a way, Kiran found herself envying him.

She missed the simplicity of life that Twister seemed to enjoy. The freedom from family turmoil and husbandly disagreements. The ability to find solace in solitude and strength in stillness.

Andy, now almost a young man, surprised Kiran by expressing his desire to join the Civil Corps. She couldn't help but smile at his words as he explained that watching her work had inspired him to want to be someone people could rely on. Logan, who had been studying a map of the Northern Eufaula range at the table, suddenly looked up with interest.

"What did you say, son?" he asked curiously; even though he had clearly heard what was said. Andy had repeated his plan.

"Well, that's quite an ambitious goal," Logan commented in a calm manner. While Kiran tried to keep her face neutral, she couldn't help but feel proud as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

Logan leaned over his map, deliberately drawing attention to himself. "Who's been filling your head with these ideas, kid?" He looked at her pointedly.

Andy blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation as he glanced back and forth between them. Finally, he slowly inched towards the door. "Er, Pa, it's not what you think. We've just been doing a lot around here lately and I..."

Logan held up a hand to cut him off. "That's enough," he said with a stern expression.

Andy crumpled like a wilted plant without sunlight. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing at all." Logan rolled up his map, displaying an unreadable look in his eyes. Kiran watched him and couldn't help but be impressed by how easily such a simple gesture could evoke fear in others. From his posture alone, it was clear that he didn't want to admit his own opinions about Andy not following in his footsteps as a monster hunter. "Anything you want to do, Andy, you go ahead and do it. I'll have your back the whole way through, son."

Logan's tone carried an undertone that Kiran couldn't quite decipher. It could have been concern or fear, but she couldn't blame her husband for feeling that way. She knew it wasn't the work itself that was too difficult or hazardous.

As Andy stared at her with a pleading look, Kiran smiled and nodded, giving him a small smile in return. "Me too, kiddo."

Once Andy had left, Kiran let out a sigh loud enough for her husband to hear. She wanted him to know she caught on to the hint of disappointment in his voice. "Do you want to talk about it, hotshot?"

"What are you talkin' about?" He responded nonchalantly.

She dryly remarked, "I can sense that you're slightly unhappy about Andy's decision to join the Civil Corps."

"What gave it away?"

"Oh, just your body language." She pointed out. He snorted and leaned against the chair he was in, crossing his arms defensively.

"Kiran, you're being a little melodramatic," he grumbled.

"Am I?" She didn't miss a beat as she responded. He nodded.

"Fine then." She stood up. "What was I supposed to say? Tell him no? Because if you were serious about what you told him -"

"Kiran, I didn't mean -"

"That he can do whatever he wants and we'll support him." Her eyes narrowed as she noticed his slight shift in emotions, betraying his attempts to hide his true feelings. "Unless you were lying about that."

His face contorted and he shook his head. "I wasn't, alright? I really wasn't."

A small sigh escaped her lips and her body tensed. "But you didn't tell him the truth about what you were thinking. You just told him what he wanted to hear, without even acknowledging your own thoughts. He's probably not even sure if you're being honest with him." Kiran placed her hand on her face, staring at her husband with frustration. "Is it really so bad that he doesn't want to follow in your footsteps? Who are you to make that decision for him?"

He scowled at her, running his hands through his hair and giving her a disapproving look. "Kiran, I didn't say no to him. What are you on about? I'm allowed to have an opinion, you know. But I would never stop the kid from pursuing his dreams - even if it seems crazy to want to join the Civil Corps." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hardly," she snapped, pointing at him. "It's hardly an opinion when you make assumptions like that. Did you want to tell him no but then change your mind because you were afraid of hurting him or something?"

"What?"

Kiran knew that was the reason, she knew her husband well enough. "You did! You always do that. You have this complex where you pretend not to care so much, but you do it all the time." She spat out the words angrily. "You always find a way to twist things and try to save face with a stupid 'dad joke' or whatever it is you do."

"And you're doing that thing right now, twisting my words to fit your own narrative of me." He rubbed the back of his neck again, another scowl forming on his face - one that was almost endearing, but not the point.

"I don't care," she had mumbled, shrugging.

Kiran let out another frustrated sigh in the dry desert air as she kicked Twister with her heel. She knew she should head back to the house before it got dark and check on everyone, but right now she couldn't bring herself to worry about anyone else.

It was just her and her horse out here. That is, until a snake slithered into view, startling both Kiran and Twister. The snake lunged at them, causing Twister to rear up in defense. Kiran quickly tried to calm her horse down, but before she could even react, she was thrown off and hit the sand with thud. As she fell, she instinctively tried to protect herself from the impact, but there was no stopping it. It wasn't even Twister's fault.

"Ah, fuck." Her words could barely form, but her exclamation was clear nonetheless.

The snake slithered away, along with Twister.

"You fuckhead!" Kiran shouted at the horse, trying to catch her breath as she struggled to stand up. She brushed sand off her face and attempted to regain her balance on the uneven desert ground, feeling a sharp pain in her ankle. "This is just great!"

The sun disappeared from view, leaving the desert shrouded in almost complete darkness. The faint light barely revealed Twister's light brown fur, making it difficult for her to keep track of him. To make matters worse, he was gradually moving further away from her.

Shit. No no no!

Even if Twister did come back, she had no means of getting back onto the saddle, let alone ride the damn animal back home.

"Just hold on, old man," she whispered, pushing away the overwhelming urge to crawl over to some nearby rocks and give in to her fate. In the distance, the horse simply stared at her before nudging the ground with its hoof and trotting off in no particular direction, but still moving away from her.

"Shiiiiit."

Tears gathered in her eyes, but Kiran scolded herself. If she had been paying attention then maybe she would've caught herself.

Maybe she could make the trip back home on foot?

No, there was no way, especially since it was getting darker.

"Ah fuck!" Kiran cursed under her breath, looking around the vast expanse of desert sand around her. The wind started to pick up as she made a sudden decision, heading off in the direction she'd last seen Twister. "Hey, boy! C'mon!" Nothing. Just a slow gait away from her, always maintaining the same pace and keeping distance.

"Twis-ter." She sung quietly, hoping to catch his attention but also cursing him for still being able to pull away and basically run like that. Some old men could really put on a show.

"Why are you like this?" She hissed, watching as he went further and further away. "Fuck you, then." her voice cracked, tears spilling over now, threatening to blind her in the midst of trying to follow him. "I hate you! Fuuuuuuuuck yoooooou."

As she scanned her surroundings; noticed a cluster of rocks not too far away. If she walked towards them, she could find shelter from any strong winds that may blow in the night. Fire was what she needed now, even though it wouldn't completely protect her from the elements or ease the throbbing pain in her ankle. In her stubbornness, she hadn't thought about the consequences of walking such a distance, but she would just have to bear through it. And so she did, taking a deep breath before lowering herself to the ground and searching for sticks under the faint light of the moon. Building a fire was her only hope, and Kiran couldn't help but feel grateful to her late father for teaching her the basics of survival. It was a skill she rarely had to use, but one that was coming in handy now.

Despite her better judgment, she began to gather whatever scraps of wood she could find. Tossing them onto the pile, she struck them together with increasing force and frustration until they were beyond salvageable. A loud hissing sound filled the air, mirroring the anger building inside of her. Swirling emotions churned in her stomach like a ball of fire, coming in quick bursts before dissipating into a hollow feeling. It was a sensation she couldn't quite explain; almost like being deprived of all sensory input. But then, a single spark caught among the dusty ground and dry twigs, causing the desert to light up in a warm orange glow as the flame spread across the pile beneath her hands.

Kiran gazed into the flickering flames, her hand burning from the heat that radiated off them. She pulled back, but couldn't tear her eyes away from the mesmerizing fire. It was her only source of warmth in this vast desert where she knew no one would come to look for her.

No, she couldn't doubt it. Logan wasn't foolish enough to believe she was simply out for a ride. One of her daughters would stumble in, most likely Adeline, complaining about Evangeline once again stirring up trouble because, at ten years old, Evangeline always had to have the last word. And then Logan would ask "Where's your mother?" and they would all realize, oh, her horse is missing too...

They would surely figure out that she had gone on an angry solo ride. And Logan would definitely know to search for her. He wasn't as skilled at handling their daughters' arguments without Kiran there to mediate. He often chose sides based on what he thought was fair or funny--which the girls weren't interested in hearing; they wanted their mother's comfort. They needed their mother. And their mother was somewhere alone and vulnerable in the darkness. Because she had made a habit of neglecting herself and believing that she didn't matter. Sometimes...

She only hoped there was some type of argument to prompt this search in the first place.

The children were all well-behaved and kind. Occasionally they would bicker and tattle on each other, but at their core, they were good kids. However, when watching Evangeline interact with her younger sisters, one could never have predicted the outcome of their relationship. She was not only intelligent, but she also knew how to manipulate the system. Adeline was known for pestering her father, but he only had himself to blame for being overprotective due to her anemia. Beatrice was still young at five years old, so her personality was still developing. But she enjoyed spending time outside, often wandering off to a nearby tree or playing with the chickens in the backyard. As for Andy, he had a strong sense of family and treated his sisters as if they were his own blood. He taught them valuable skills like bug-catching, reading, and using a slingshot accurately - never once complaining about being the only boy in the household.

"Where are you, Yakboy?" She huffed. She knew she was alone, a good few miles from town. And it was getting pretty fucking cold. Cursing her own forgetfulness, Kiran adjusted the coat tighter around her, staring out to the vast expanse of sands before her.

It wasn't cold enough yet for her to completely freeze. Most would assume it wouldn't ever get to that point in the desert, and honestly she could barely remember if there had been a time, but she knew cold. Her fingers ached, as she rubbed them to keep them warm against the fire.

"I fucked up. As usual." She muttered, though, an almost proud sort of sound danced across her lips in a light-hearted chuckle that erupted in her. She looked out across the desert before her, and for a second the flames almost seemed to change in height, but the rest of the desert was eerily still.

She gazed up at the night sky, filled with twinkling stars and a crescent moon. Perhaps Logan would tell their children a bedtime story tonight, one of his many wild tales from his real-life adventures. The girls adored his stories; they never had to fear monsters under their beds because their father was the bravest man in the world. Always able to vanquish any foe.

"Alright, alright," he would say with a grin, raising his hands in mock surrender before plopping down on the floor and lifting up the comforter to peak underneath for any supposed monsters. "Aha, there he is," he'd declare with a smirk.

"Daddy, did you get him?" Little Beatrice would ask eagerly.

He'd snort and widen his grin, "oh yeah, I got him good. He won't be coming back anytime soon. One look at me and he scurried back through the vents."

With an exaggerated expression of triumph or accomplishment, he would entertain them and make them believe that he could conquer any enemy with just a glance. Maybe they didn't fully understand what an enemy was like their father did, but that was okay. They wouldn't have to.

Sometimes Kiran would look at her children and wonder if they were too young, too pure and kind to understand the darkness her and Logan had faced. They would grow up without truly comprehending the trauma their parents endured and how it shaped their lives. But she never voiced these thoughts to Logan; she had shared her fears of spiders and scorpions with him. But his fears never stopped him. And she knew they never would.

But each of the girls had their own struggles and challenges to face, and Kiran acknowledged that there were ups and downs to being a mother. But ultimately, she believed it was worth it to be able to give her children something Logan never had: a loving mother. A mama who truly cared for them.

She let out a deep sigh, leaning her body against the cold rock. Despite feeling exhausted and freezing, she knew she had to tough it out. If she gave up now, death was a very real possibility. The sound of something skittering by caught her attention, but she didn't bother investigating.

Her mind wandered to her regrets and her own shortcomings. She despised how much of a burden she used to be, and even now still felt like one. Logan had been similar to Twister in some ways - kind yet stubborn as hell. He never let anything get past him.

But she loved him for his kindness and thoughtfulness, always putting others before himself without outwardly showing it. It was almost ironic how different they were as a couple, yet also oddly similar. They both had the hearts of heroes, despite their differences.

She drifted off like that - the fire crackling and glowing slightly, but the noise not disrupting her. If anything, it comforted her, knowing it was slowly heating her skin and warming her bones and body.

She pictured those icy blue eyes. How passionate he was about everything he believed in - that was so admirable.

However, there were moments when he could be an irritating jerk, laughing at something that was actually just immature. But she would have to tolerate it - even though it annoyed her - because deep down, he truly was a caring and loving person. After all, he was her husband, her partner in mischief, and the father of her kids. She couldn't deny how much she loved him, despite his occasional flaws. The carbon copies of him were constantly around as well, the mischievous little fuckers who knew exactly how to push both their buttons. But she would not trade it for the world.

She jolted awake, maybe hours later, to the fire dwindling and a damp sensation on her forehead. Twister sniffed at her and nudged her gently with his nose. Kiran sat up quickly, almost pushing away her horse before realizing who it was.

"Twister!" She exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes as she leaned against the rock, brushing her blue hair out of her face with a sigh of relief. Then came a soft thud as Logan dismounted from the saddle. Twister seemed unphased, but Logan approached with a look of concern etched into his features.

"What happened here?" He asked gruffly, a hint of seriousness underlying his rough voice.

Kiran pointed to her ankle, which was swelling up slightly, and he noticed her face had traces of tears. He knelt next to her, rolling up her jeans past her knee to survey the damage. "Shit."

He removed his hat and placed it gently beside him. She could see the disapproving look in his eyes, and she hated it. It was the same look he always gave her when she did something reckless or foolish. He reached out to touch her ankle, trying to assess the damage. "You should have known better, Kiran," he said sternly, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Kiran couldn't help but wince as his hands moved over her injured ankle; it was probably a sprain, or maybe even something worse.

"Twister got spooked. I don't control how snakes work, dumbass."

A small chuckle escaped his throat, but it was clear that he never stopped worrying. That's just who he was. "Horses are instinctively flight animals," he said. "You were lucky the old man had the sense to find his way back home. Otherwise-"

"My family would have shrunk to just five members." Kiran interrupted, sitting up and causing Logan to sigh and adjust his position in the sand. "Sorry."

"I don't know what to say," he said, as usual, struggling for words. Instead of continuing, he simply closed his mouth monetarily. "Do you want some water?" Logan offered, pulling out his canteen.

Kiran made a face but then nodded her head. "I owe that old horse my life. He deserves retirement." She smiled, reaching for the canteen and unscrewing the cap.

"Sounds fair. Is your ankle going to give us any more trouble?" Logan examined her swollen ankle, gently moving it with his fingers. Kiran winced in pain.

"Yeah, it might. I don't think it's broken, but it still hurts." She took a long drink from the canteen.

"You had me really worried."

"Was it before or after you thought about being a single father?" Kiran teased with a smirk, taking another sip from the canteen before offering it to him. "But seriously, I appreciate you coming to get me."

"Couldn't exactly not come out here to get my damn wife," his voice sounded like he was offended but his grin showed a different story. "Got at least three daughters that'll be askin' where ya gone off too. And if anything, you know you're Twister's favorite. Let's get you up, darlin'." He stood, holding a hand out to her to help her up, but as soon as she attempted to put weight on her bad foot, she collapsed into him.

"Ow ow ow-" she clung to him, gripping his shirt tightly with closed fists. "Fuck..."

He exhaled a shaky breath and wrapped his arm around her, helping her to stand. Kiran leaned on a nearby rock for support, trying to relieve some of the weight from her injured ankle, though she still needed assistance. She shot Twister an angry glare, although she couldn't deny her affection for him.

"Stupid piece of horseshit - don't give me that look - ow, yes, it's your fault," she continued her rant, glancing to Logan to see him; a half-assed attempt to hide his amused grin. "Nothing funny about this. Asshole."

Logan tilted his head, his smile finally coming through. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time-"

"We agreed not to talk about the last time."

This caused Logan to laugh softly and shake his head. He came forward, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're something else, you know that?"

Kiran gave him a look. "Yes, I'm amazing and strong, Logan. You only tell me that every fucking day." She paused, mocking his accent when she continued and quoted him, "You're somethin' else, woman."

His grin widened even further. "Heh," he let his thumbs roll in gentle circles against her shoulders. "You could kill a man with words if you ever tried." He tilted his head, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead, thumb brushing through her hair that was swept by the breeze.

She smiled at this, leaning into him, tilting her head up towards him. "Don't underestimate my creativity. I can do great things," she murmured, her words a gentle brush against his collarbone that rose goosebumps on his skin. His blue eyes nearly bored a hole into her from staring, she blushed harder under his gaze, eyes meeting for only a moment.

"Right," he acknowledged her, bringing his lips to graze hers gently. It was only moments. It was barely a connection. A light touch that felt like a spark of electricity hitting a wire.

To say their relationship was an electric storm would have been the most accurate. Their lives had been entangled and turned upside down by storms and violent waves, and their energies collided when they met.

She smiled, breathless, into the kiss. All the feelings of loss and desperation that had drawn her to that fire had seemed to just disappear, leaving them both wrapped up in one another and longing for something. A mutual yearning that ran so deep and true. They had found something beautiful - something perfect - in each other, and to separate from that would have left them empty and starving.

Logan smiled, slipping a finger under her chin and tilting her face up slightly so he could see her clearly. "What can I do to make sure this doesn't happen again?" he rasped gently, running his fingers under the hair and to the nape of her neck.

She loved the feeling of his fingers against her skin, trailing delicately and feather light. The intimacy, the feelings and the emotions that bubbled up when they touched was inexplicable, leaving her to want nothing else.

"You could tie me down," Kiran laughed hoarsely. "Put a leash on my ankle. Chain me. Hell, you could've probably - you know..." She couldn't help it. Even teasing had its merits. And doing anything to get his blood rushing and make him angry (or something else) always had it's perks.

Logan chuckled. "Really? You've been in the desert too long," he smirked, placing a hand on her waist. Kiran's smile nearly matched his. She watched him, enraptured in their dance.

"I hate to make you mad," She poked at his chest. Kiran adjusted herself, pulling her hips closer. "But you get mad too easily."

He was listening, turning his head slightly to show he was focused, as much as his eyes seemed glazed over when he was just watching her. Her words struck him deep, sometimes, or so she supposed. Either it was her words or his own worries that would do it. As much as he ignored her teasing, Logan had proved to have a protective side. Everyday it showed more and more.

"Good point," he relented, but Kiran didn't reply. His lips formed a thin, straight line before continuing, "its just that," his voice deepened, rough and scratchy, a voice she'd hear more than often - a voice she had always heard when they were alone like this - when he was calm, and confident. Like his heart was beating just for her.

"I couldn't stand it if I lost you," the words were smooth, sincere, slow-dripping and raw like an open wound, the color and life dying out; like it had only been a taste of how much he really feared that. The look on her face left no doubt about how hard it was for him to admit that.

"You won't," Kiran took his face in her hands, eyes boring deep into his. She was smiling at him, in a way.

Logan smirked, a calloused hand coming to rest on her upper back. "Can't exactly plan a rescue out here. So I'd like to reduce your chances of becoming snake bait," he pulled her closer.

"Let's get me home," Kiran said with a laugh, their breaths mingling in the air. They both moved closer to each other instinctively. Logan leaned in first, followed by Kiran as their lips met in an urgent and passionate kiss. She melted into him effortlessly, a smile forming on her lips. He chuckled softly, reminding her to be cautious, but it was quickly forgotten as she eagerly sought to taste him again.

Kiran felt his hands on her body, gentle yet powerful, a perfect contrast to the rest of his strong physique. She deepened the kiss, feeling her heart racing with excitement. And she could feel his heart beating just as fast against hers, their frantic rhythms matching perfectly. She let out a soft sigh and pulled at his shirt, craving more contact for her burning core. He complied eagerly, pulling her closer with his arm around her back.

She moaned softly, trying to keep quiet lest anyone hear them in this open desert space. It made her blush to think about it - there they were, pressed together intimately as husband and wife in the middle of nowhere. Her good leg was able to support her weight as their tongues explored each other passionately. It was almost too much to handle.

But Logan maintained some sense of control and took charge of the situation. However, that didn't stop Kiran from rocking her hips against his thigh and sliding her hand under his shirt to feel his muscles flex beneath her touch. She had him right where she wanted him - smitten and helpless against her trembling body as she struggled to contain both her desires and her breathless gasps.

Twister made a noise.

Kiran broke apart, Logan let his forehead fall to her shoulder and her hand had moved to his head, fingers running through his silver hair. Logan moved, his breath hot and heavy on her, a steady drum against her throat. Logan was hot, too, face flushed as he attempted to remember his composure, muttering swears like a mantra as his grip on her loosened, his gaze landing on the horse, who only snorted.

She knew what Twister was telling them. To get a move on.

"Dammit," Logan whispered, clearly frustrated. He leaned into her, his shoulders falling slightly, slowly trying to remove himself from her but Kiran tangled her fingers into his hair and refused to let him go, trying to savor what she could. She let out a quiet, teasing laugh at his own cursing, glancing to her horse in amusement and smiling when her mind wandered. She hoped that maybe, if her eyes screwed shut tight enough, he would give up, tell Twister to go screw himself and he would fuck her mercilessly. Unfortunately, the universe seemed against them. Or fate was cruel. Or perhaps Twister was simply a horse of impeccable timing.

Logan ran his fingers through his hair and placed his hat on his head with a heavy sigh. He glared at the horse. "Don't you have anythin' better to do?"

Twister snorted, almost as if he understood. But it was more likely that he was just tired and wanted to go back home.

"Damn horse," Logan grumbled, causing Kiran to laugh in a hoarse cough. She stumbled away from him, managing to stand for a brief moment before nearly falling again. He caught her quickly, concern etched onto his face.

"Shit," he sprang into action immediately. Twister was quiet, as if sensing something was wrong and moving closer to them.

"We gotta get you home, woman."

"No shit," she managed, her voice slightly hysterical as he hooked an arm under her legs and his other supported her back, lifting her up against his chest. The movement silenced her suddenly, and for a few seconds she listened to the sound of his footprints against the coarse sand. Twister was waiting patiently, bobbing his head lightly, watching them. He kept going until he stopped next to Twister.

"Am I too much for you to handle?" Kiran asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I did have three kids, after all." Her admission caught him off guard, but he didn't let it show as he helped her onto the saddle.

"It's not polite for a man to comment on a woman's weight," Logan replied, trying to lighten the mood as he patted her knee reassuringly. "Just scoot forward a bit more, will ya?"

She followed his instructions, shifting as far forward as possible to give him room to climb onto the saddle behind her. "Okay, okay," she mumbled, gripping the reins tightly. The soft sound of leather rubbing against each other filled their ears as Logan settled into place behind her.

With a smirk, she said, "Just this once, I'll let you be in charge."

He chuckled softly and reached for the horse's reins. "Noted," he muttered before clicking his tongue.

Twister took a step forward, but only one.

Kiran wondered how Logan managed to get him back out here again. Perhaps it was Twister's instinctive knowledge of her whereabouts that saved her. But she didn't mention it - this situation was enough to deal with. It was a miracle that the old man even showed up, and both Kiran and Logan knew it.

She heard Logan huff behind her as he firmly grasped the reins and attempted once more to lead the steed home. Twister made a noise, almost as if he was annoyed.

"Listen to me," Logan's voice had an edge to it that startled Kiran. "You've done a lot for us today; you owe us just a little bit more, don't you, you old bastard?"

Twister seemed hesitant to move, even after Logan nudged him again. Kiran couldn't help but chuckle at the stubbornness of the beast, but she knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Come on, Twister," she urged, patting his neck gently. The old stallion finally obliged and began to move. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over Kiran, causing her body to relax.

Under his breath, Logan grumbled about the horse having an attitude, but Kiran simply smiled - the expression seemed permanently fixed on her face now. And as they continued their journey, that smile only grew wider and more intense.

"He's just mad two people are on him." She commented, looking down and watching the sand hit the horse's legs. "He's getting old, he's too picky with who rides him."

"He's always been picky, you're the only one he listens to anyway."

"I happen to have that effect on people," she heard his laugh and turned her head toward it.

"Sure." His response was cut short by the need to speak to Twister, asking the horse to hurry up just this once, as if the beast could understand them. Of course he did, in a way. But in Twisters world this meant taking his time. Eventually his hooves echoed on the railway bridge just before town.

"How long was I out there?" Kiran mumbled, noting that the lights were all off. The residents must have been in bed, or about to be, anyway. How long had she been gone? "What time is it?"

"Few hours," Logan muttered, exhaustion in his voice. Twister was obviously tired, his steps heavier, pausing every few feet to be sure where he was walking, his head bobbing. He must have been exhausted after carrying them. But soon they were at the gate, a familiar sight. This was where Twister could finally rest - so he halted and refused to take another step forward.

Logan looked over to their house, sighing and muttering about the horse. "At least we're not waitin' for him anymore. My ass hurts."

He reached out to pat Kiran and then dismounted from his horse, beckoning for her to come down as well. She appeared a bit bashful but still managed to smile, lowering herself into his waiting arms. He made sure to hold her securely as she alighted from the horse. She winced slightly, clearly in pain.

"Thank you both," she said, placing her hand on Logan's chest and staying close to him for support. She found her footing and pulled on Twister's reins with determination.

The horse shook his head, his ears pinned back in a sign of frustration. She affectionately ruffled his white forelock, noticing that he needed some grooming. His tail was tangled and his hooves were caked with dirt, but he seemed more interested in taking a rest at the moment.

Logan returned his attention to the horse, expressing his gratitude through gentle pets and pats on the neck. He then carefully picked up the woman, much to her disappointment as it meant no more freedom to move around. However, she was relieved to not have to hobble anymore. Once inside, Logan released a sigh of relief as he shut the front door behind them and gently placed her on the couch. Despite feeling uncomfortably warm, she smiled at him. He set his hat down on the nearby table and took a seat in the chair next to her. It looked like he collapsed into it more than anything else.

"My ankle," she reminded him.

"Right," he replied absentmindedly, looking exhausted and drained. But he had always been handsome to her. He tilted his head towards the stairs and called out for Andy. "Andy! Get down here!"

There was a mumble and shuffle from above before the silhouette of the young man appeared, rubbing his eyes sleepily in the dim light. "What is it, Pa?" The boy's voice was heavy with sleep, his hair tousled in a way that reminded Kiran of Twister's forelock.

"Ma hurt her ankle," Logan explained. His tone held an unquestionable authority yet a softness that only revealed itself when he spoke to family. Andy's gaze turned to her and widened slightly at the sight of her sitting there, obviously in pain but still managing to hold onto that ever-present smile.

"Oh fu - shoot, you okay Ma?" Kiran nodded, her smile calming Andy’s worry slightly. "Just twisted it a bit." she conceded. She glanced towards Logan, who was eyeing the stairs, no doubt thinking about finding their stash of bandages and painkillers hidden away upstairs. Andy, followed his gaze, nodded once before disappearing up the staircase.

"I talked to him, ya know." Logan admitted this like he was admitting to doing something he wasn't supposed to - something wrong. She looked at him, curious, and watched him try to hide his embarrassment in his hand when he rubbed his chin, clearly enjoying the reprieve for his poor knees that was being offered in his seat. "He made me talk it out," the slightest smile tugged at his mouth.

"You boys have been bonding?" She played it dumb, of course, knowing full well that the young man upstairs wanted, no, needed a father figure and a brother who didn't hide behind some film of not projecting emotions clearly.

"Naw, I mean, he just sat there. Told him I felt some way about him not taking after me." As he spoke, he got out of the chair, moving to where Kiran was on the couch and flopping down again. "Boots, woman. Take those damn things off." He pointed, but patted his thigh regardless. There was no question, he wanted her leg on him so he could check on her ankle.

She shook her head, mumbling that he was impatient as she shuffled her body on the old sofa until she got comfortable again. "And what did he say?" Kiran's ankle pulsed with an ache.

He grasped her boot gently, pulling at the laces and beginning to ease the article off of her leg. "He said he respects me, a lot. But," he laughed, "he's nothing like me. That if he has to be anyone he wants to be like you. I can't even be mad. He's a great kid, stubborn as hell, but-"

The sound of the boy's footsteps caught the attention of the two adults, who turned to see him returning downstairs. Andy carried an old, worn medical kit, with Evangeline and Adeline following closely behind him. The youngest child, Beatrice, remained upstairs as she was the deepest sleeper among them. With his brows furrowed in concern, Andy walked briskly towards them. His sisters trailed behind him, with Adeline appearing to be the most tired as she let out a big yawn and rubbed her eyes while leaning on Evangeline's shoulder for support.

As Logan continued to work on the boot, easing it past Kiran's swollen ankle, he shot a glance towards the gathering crowd of youngsters. The soft lamplight illuminated their concerned faces.

Andy took a seat on the armrest of the couch, opening up the worn kit with practiced ease.

Adeline rushed to her mother's side with concern, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Mama, did you hurt your ankle? I was so worried!"

"I'm home now, Addie," Kiran replied, hugging her daughter back just as tightly. She found comfort in her child's presence, not wanting to let go even when Evangeline joined them in the hug.

"We're so glad you're safe, Mama," Evangeline chimed in, kissing her mother's cheek. Kiran couldn't help but smile at her daughters' affection.

"Yes, I'm okay. Even though I took a little tumble."

Evangeline's surprise was evident in her tone. "You fell?" she asked Kiran, who looked up at her husband's cracked grin.

"Yeah," Kiran admitted sheepishly. "Right off the saddle."

Adeline, always curious, had her mouth slightly open, ready to bombard Kiran with questions. Logan quickly intervened.

"It was quite a fall," he explained. He delicately held Kiran's injured ankle as if it were about to explode. Adeline leaned forward eagerly, wanting to hear all about her mother's accident. But Kiran was not amused; she knew her injury was not life-threatening.

"Thankfully, I survived thanks to my hero over here," Kiran said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Logan couldn't resist exaggerating his role in saving her.

"I had to carry her... on the back of Old Twister!" he exclaimed, emphasizing each word for effect. Kiran couldn't help but scoff and pout like an offended five-year-old - except hers was asleep upstairs.

"Well, thank you very much," she said dryly, knowing that even if Logan hadn't been there, she would have found a way back home - maybe?

Logan's smile transformed into a cocky smirk as he refocused on the injured ankle. His thumb assumed a gentle, circular motion, massaging the exact spot where the worst pain was located. "Ice, anybody?" he asked nonchalantly, his voice oozing with confidence.

She would have kicked him if she could, but her injured ankle prevented any sort of retaliation, and she fought the urge to curse from the pain.

Evangeline spoke up eagerly. "I'll go get it!" she declared, causing Adeline to gasp quietly as she watched her sprint out of the room.

"What's my job?" Adeline asked, rubbing her tired eyes. "I want to help."

Kiran lovingly ran her hand through her daughter's beautiful white hair, gazing at her admiringly. "Go get Daddy some water, I think he's pretty thirsty," she instructed. As Adeline obediently jumped off the couch and scurried to the kitchen, Kiran turned her attention back to Logan. She couldn't help but smirk at his cocky attitude.

"How do you manage them?" He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Kiran countered, trying to stifle a laugh by biting her lip.

"Just-" He gestured with his hands, struggling to find the right words. "Handle them."

She couldn't contain her laughter any longer. He watched her with a slight chuckle, as if he had given up trying to understand.

"What's so difficult? They're just girls, not wild animals."

"Sometimes they don't seem all that different," he muttered, his brow furrowing again. "But then again, what if-"

"Comparing them to wild animals doesn't make me like you any more," her statement cut off his train of thought, which probably wasn't going anywhere useful.

Logan huffed and glanced towards the other room, where Evangeline now emerged.

"Here, Daddy," She handed him a bag of ice wrapped in cloth. "Be careful, it's melting," she warned.

"Thanks kiddo," Logan said, taking it carefully with one hand while keeping Kiran's ankle elevated and steadied with the other. His touch was gentle and comforting as he pressed the ice against her swollen ankle, causing her to let out a soft grunt.

"Thank you," she added sweetly, smiling gratefully at her daughter.

"I got the water!" Adeline chirped as she returned to the room. Kiran almost gasped at the sight of the tall glass filled nearly to the brim, with only a few drops spilling over the sides. The little girl her father without spilling a drop.

He played along and took it from her. "Trying to drown me?" He joked, but seeing Adeline's joyful expression and Kiran's disapproving frown, he didn't dare set the full glass down. Instead, he took a long drink from it, emptying some of the liquid. "There, now there's enough for me." He handed the water back to Adeline, who grinned and placed it on the table within his reach.

"Here Ma, take these." Andy handed her a pair of white pills from a small brown bottle, the light from the hanging lamp casting dancing shadows upon his face. The quietness of the room was shattered by the rattling sound when he put the cap back on the bottle.

"Light," Kiran said with a chuckle, "it's like a hospital ward in here."

"What?" Andy feigned innocence with an innocent shrug.

"I mean, what's next? You going to take my blood pressure?" she asked, taking the pills from his hand and washing them down with a sip of water Adeline offered her.

"Andy, see to Twister. Brush him off, he deserves it." Logan instructed.

Andy didn't care to object and nodded. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked towards the door, pulling on his boots. "Sure thing," he said, his voice filled with the carefree confidence of youth.

Logan looked up at Evangeline and spoke again, "I think it's time to call it a night, ladies. We've had enough accidents for one evening. I can't imagine sleepin' on the couch after all this excitement."

Evangeline's brow furrowed in confusion as she asked, "Are you going to move her?" Her face brightened with the thought of executing a daring rescue.

"Yeah, I'll take her to bed. She'll have a tough time tomorrow with that sprained ankle. We don't want her waking up in pain, do we?"

Adeline bounced on the sofa, watching her father closely. He met her gaze but held back from saying anything entertaining for her sake. However, before Logan could even consider playing along, Evangeline chimed in again.

"No, we definitely don't want that to happen, Daddy."

"Alright then," he rubbed his chin as he thought. He took a moment to stare at the floor, or maybe longer - too long for simply looking at an object without any significance. Kiran knew what he was doing; he was pretending to include their opinions so he wouldn't have to stand up right away.

She waited a moment before speaking up. "So, what's going through your minds?"

"Someone needs to help you move," Adeline chimed in, following her father's lead. She was just like him. Logan nodded, deep in thought as he rubbed his chin and tapped his finger against his lips in consideration.

"You are absolutely right," he looked up, his expression beaming. "Thank you, Addie, you think for the rest of us."

She giggled, bowing her head, rubbing her eyes and playing a proper little girl.

"Oh hush," Kiran muttered, offering him a hand. He smiled as he took it, pulling up on it gently - careful not to drag her with him as he stood.

"What're you on about?"

"She knows you're faking." Kiran claimed.

Adeline shook her head. "He only looks at the floor like that when he's thinking!"

Logan scoffed, as if this was a ridiculous notion, and shook his head. "Am I really that obvious?"

"No way," Adeline shook her head, looking to her sister for confirmation, who nodded and hummed quietly in agreement. It was their solidarity against him, and to his credit, he didn't seem all that offended. He wouldn't have had it any other way, really, even if the youngsters weren't aware of it.

He didn't continue the argument. Mostly because it was already losing his attention, and partly because his goal was to get Kiran to the bedroom - for the time being that was much more pressing than joking with the girls.

"I got you." He warned, though he wasn't cruel enough to do anything without her permission. Just having the option made her mouth twitch, annoyed, but she nodded and let him swoop in for the pick up. "No use fightin' it, honey, you're hurt."

She grumbled, frustrated with the current situation. She knew it was necessary, but still couldn't accept the fact that she had to endure it. Her husband's embrace did little to ease her discomfort from her injured leg and achy ankle. She concentrated on ignoring her children who were humming and giggling behind her, commenting on how ridiculous it all seemed. If she could block them out completely, maybe she could forget about the incident and enjoy the moment.

The journey up the stairs was quick. He gently placed her feet on the smooth hardwood floor and led her, one cautious step at a time, to the bed. She winced, wondering how she managed to get hurt again. As if she could ever forget the memory of falling from old Twister long enough to relax. She sat down slowly, his hands supporting her as she lowered herself onto the soft mattress.

"Careful, hun," Logan advised, just as he grabbed an extra pillow from the other side of the bed, fluffing it up briefly. "Think you can get your foot up here?" She obliged, placing her foot on the pillow. "Perfect."

"Glad it pleases you." She grumbled.

"How's it feel?" He asked, avoiding her ire, and took a seat at the end of the bed.

"It hurts, but I'll live." She gave the response as if nothing had happened. That was the intent, anyway.

"Had a feeling you'd say that." His hands moved to the sock she wore, which he began to roll off as gently as possible.

"No, it's okay. Leave it." She sighed.

Logan laughed and shook his head. "It's fine, Kiran." But he tried not to be rough about it as he tugged the material down the length of her foot. She bit her lip and sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth when he had it off.

"See, that wasn't so bad," he said, a note of triumph in his voice. Kiran simply rolled her eyes in response.

He examined her foot, studying the raised blue-purple bruise forming on her ankle. She watched as his face creased with worry. It was a look she knew all too well; Logan wore it often when he thought no one was looking, but she always noticed.

"Stop fretting," she murmured.

"It could have been worse," he mumbled, though she thought his words were a bit insensitive. She didn't often get hurt this badly. His hands gently traced over her swollen skin, his mouth twisting in sympathy. He reached up to hold her shoulders carefully. "Lie down. Let me know if you need to move, okay?"

She nodded obediently.

"Good girl." He couldn't resist the chance to tease her, his wink and faint laughter giving him away.

She rolled her eyes again. "Why don't you go check on the kids? You'll be back soon enough."

"Won't miss me while I'm gone?" he asked with a sly grin. She shook her head and turned over.

"Not a chance."

He snorted and gave her back a brief pat before leaving her alone in the room, lit only by the lamp on her bedside table.

The sound of shuffling footsteps echoed down the hallway, accompanied by occasional giggles. Logan was likely moments away from stepping in to settle things. Not that he minded the disturbance; some days, chaos was a welcome change. Other days, not so much. She could hear their incessant questions from the next room over as Logan expertly fielded them for the time being. She was so used to his voice that she could almost hear every word he said, even when he spoke softly.

"Well, Addie, that's a great question. Yeah, I think we should get him a carrot tomorrow." As Logan agreed with Adeline's request, Evangeline started to speak up, suggesting that Twister deserved two carrots instead. His response was hardly a disagreement with her opinion. "Alright, alright. He definitely deserves it after saving Mama. We'll get em for him bright and early tomorrow morning. Got it?"

Evangeline must have been satisfied with his answer because they didn't vocalize any further. A moment later, Logan entered the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind him. "Well, it's one o'clock in the morning."

"Well," Kiran smiled coyly, "That means it's technically not tomorrow yet. They could get him three carrots."

He chuckled and rubbed his eyes before speaking. "You'd think they would want to sleep in a little longer. Maybe they just enjoy being around you as much as I do."

Kiran returned his smile, tilting her head slightly. He perched on the edge of the bed. He didn't look as tired as she had expected. Most likely he was trying to appear strong for her sake, even now.

"Do you need help changing?" he asked, although his tone suggested that he knew she could handle it on her own. He was willing to risk her anger in order to take care of her.

She grunted in response and shifted, attempting to sit up. Logan leaned forward and caught her shoulder, stopping her movement. "What did I tell you?"

"You asked a question, I think I can handle a few seconds without you monitoring me," she retorted, pulling off her shirt - too exhausted to stand and not wanting him to see her from behind anyway.

"Yes, ma'am." Logan huffed, waiting until she removed the bra; tossing it aside while the loose gray sleeping tee replaced it. He glanced at her for permission before slowly helping her to the edge of the bed so he could pull down her jeans. His grin when she did was less than comforting.

"So this is how it ends, huh? With me stripping you?" He paused, pursing his lips in deep thought. "There is no right way to put this, is there?"

She pulled back and dropped the jeans into a heap. "I'd like to think that if this is the last time you take my clothes off, there'd be something more special in the air." She raised her eyebrow when she stared at him, waiting for his reply. It only got worse when she saw the color fill his cheeks.

"Oh yeah? You could have fooled me."

"Shut it." She warned, "What are you doing, trying to fight me?"

"Always," he teased, flashing another easy grin. She watched him close, trying to break down this look, searching for something from him. When he bent closer, trying for a kiss, she shoved him in the middle of his chest. She laughed heartily, using him for balance as she pushed. He grunted, eyes wide.

"Oh, you're just full of jokes tonight, ain't ya?" He gasped, touching his chest. "I should be offended, ya know," he crossed his arms, pouting. "My wife, shoving me away."

"You started it. If you want my kindness, you've gotta earn it." She replied quickly. "Can we go to bed, please?"

"Suppose we have no choice." He let the mock defeat slide through his voice, and even so she smiled.

"Careful," she mused. "You know. 'We.' Like we're old or something."

"Is there something wrong with 'we', Kiran?"

"Just calling it like I see it."

"Remind me to kick myself in the mornin', if that's what you'd like," he snickered. He didn't even wait to get permission to stretch out his aching body. Kiran was all the more amused, watching him move his weary limbs. She doubted he really could have denied her any request, even with as much work as he did - there was no way he would have turned her down.

"I hope it's better by the morning." She frowned at her ankle. The thought of bed-rest over several days was more daunting than she expected. Though, the more she turned it over in her mind, the more the feeling was giving way to guilt. Here she was complaining about something that wasn't as bad as it could be, which was her right, wasn't it?

He slid the window ajar - a cool evening breeze to help them sleep soundly. She leaned forward, fiddling with the light as he let the curtains flutter, though they soon settled back against the worn panes. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to focus and turned the light off, plunging the room into a dull glow of the small night light near the door. He came back to her, a hand moving to brush through her hair.

"Get comfy," he instructed. "That way the swelling will go down some, and you'll have an easier time in the morning."

His words couldn't have meant more, all that he was not telling her was clear to him. He smiled, tender, for once not forcing his charm. She snuggled down into the sheets. When she was sufficiently distracted with getting comfortable, she shut her eyes; feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight. His warmth was a comfort to her. In a whisper, she muttered quietly, "thank you."

The response was an arm wrapping loosely around her waist, a gentle pull towards him. Their heads brushed against each other, and his grip tightened. It was a silent cry, she felt, for her to stay with him and him with her. No matter what he had been through in these strange lands, and no matter what he thought about it, she was proud of him.

She knew who the real heroes were. He was all hers. And she knew he thought the same about her.

"You're welcome."

Nothing needed to be discussed, nothing else mattered. When the time came to wake, that would be an entirely different matter.

#mtas #mtas fanfiction #mtas builder/logan #mtas logan #mtas builder

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languajix · 4 months

Text

Also, I made Hold Every Memory As You Go into a series here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3951160

I figured, I am already swimming in ideas for where to take this thing, and it was such an incredibly nice experience to write. Might as well give people a place to subscribe if they're interested, since a handful have subscribed to the oneshot even though it's 1/1 chapters.

Fun facts about Hold Every Memory:

-The title comes from the song "See You Again" by Wiz Kalifa/Charlie Puth. The full verse goes: So let the light guide your way Hold every memory as you go And every road you take Will always lead you home, home (The 'lights guiding your way' being the glowing threads leading Don back to his brothers)

-I didn't go into detail about how the meetings worked exactly, and I'm still leaving it mostly in the air, but: --Don is the only one who can see/feel/use everyone's threads --Mike, Leo, and Raph can feel when he tugs, but only if they're either already in meditation or not distracted by literally anything else. --Physical stuff carries over from the astral plane to the physical plane, but only things that directly affect the body; bruises carry over, but nail polish does not. --Don does go to several mystic researchers and witches, and none of them can sense the threads. They are so innate to him (and kind of weak) that they are invisible to everyone else.

-Potential future stories in this 'verse include, but are not limited to: a Mike-centric story on lost arms, touch therapy, and grief. Leo talking to Don about his acceptance of his incoming death at that battle nexus battle, and scars. Don giving in to peer pressure and awkwardly expanding his social circle. A story about the Rise!kids and the uncles that they only maybe kind of believe exist. And a happy ending.

#my fic #jix stuff #hold every memory au

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ali-annals · 8 months

Text

5: isn't it just so pretty

Invisible String Masterlist PREVIOUS NEXT AO3

On June 24th, Red Robin popped by Lucky Charms, but it was closed.

He then headed to 195 Andes Plaza but saw Damian glaring at him from the window and left.

Marinette was finishing preparing for her upcoming album release/tour and didn’t need to deal with inquisitive birds and bats right now.

The second story had a large room for the kwamis to play around in. The spacious garden out back, tended by Tikki, Pollen, Nooroo, Fluff, and Wayzz, was lush and blooming abundantly.

Tomorrow Fairy would release the album cover and name, then in a week the tracklist and another MV for her second single, Threads of Time. With the new info released, there would be more interviews. One would be with Clark and Lois.

So Damian protectively shooed his brother away from Marinette.

Chloe and Icarus would be going on tour as well, in the States and Europe. At least Bruce hadn’t questioned him when he requested to not begin working at WE till January, taking a gap half-year. There was the tour, the wedding, and planning the functions to do. He couldn’t be there for Mari and keep an eye on her health while he was busy acclimating to working at WE as well.

~~~~~

June 25th the Waynes were stunned by the cover of Fairy’s new album, Golden Ties. It was different from her debut album, Gossamer Wings. Gossamer Wings’ background was an iridescent, shimmering background with golden lines like butterfly wings curving up from the surface. Black italics spelled the title.

Golden Ties was a black background with loopy gold letters all connected spelling the title.

Fairy’s picture on the back of Gossamer Wings showed her back, with fairy wings attached. (Actually, they were her Ladybug wings and the background of the cover.)

On the back of Golden Ties was her profile in black, wearing her signature red lipstick and a plain gold masquerade-style domino.

July second, the tracks –all sixteen of them– were released, plus Threads of Time (MV).

Damian, as Icarus, appeared in it.

One of the songs, Emerald Eyes, was about him, though no one except him, Mari, Jagged and Penny, and Chloe knew that.

~~~~~

Fairy began the American leg of her tour in Gotham with Jagged.

The Waynes came, of course, minus Damian again but including Bruce this time.

Fairy sent Chloe with a note inviting them backstage after the show.

Chloe reported that they were happy to join her and that they had all (minus Bruce) squealed in excitement.

Once the backstage fans left, Icarus escorted his family to Mari’s dressing room.

“Hi! How have my ‘biggest fans’ been doing?"

“Great! This album is even better than your debut, and the concert was amazing!!”

“Thank you! Icarus inspired a lot,” she smiled at him in a way that the Bats could *tell* was reserved for him only.

"Did you know MDC was engaged to someone?” asked Bruce, not foregoing his detective tendencies even in the face of his children’s favourite artist.

“MDC is engaged? I didn’t know she made a press statement,” Fairy played dumb. “I did notice a lovely ring on her hand, though. She also seems quite close with whom I believe is your younger brother...Damian?”

“That’s him. Unfortunately, he had a previous engagement scheduled and couldn’t come tonight. I do know he actually quite enjoys your music.”

“High praise! I’ll have to tease him about it if MDC brings her man around!” Fairy giggled like her namesake. She turned to Icarus. “Remind me next time we see him?”

“Of course, Cherie. ”

~~~~~

Gold was the color of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial Park

Damian asked Jon to cover for him while he followed Marinette around the US. In return, Jon got MDC clothing and signed Fairy and Jagged Stone merch.

Jon was introduced to the kwamis, and Trixx was enlisted to create illusions of Damian and Marinette as needed. Kaalki was the MVP, opening portals regularly so Damian could maintain his presence in Gotham.

At the end of August, Fairy headed to Europe for the next leg of her tour. She hit all the capitals, saving Paris for last. Luka, Jagged, and Clara all joined her at different parts of the tour for surprise collabs.

Finally, the day came when Marinette arrived in Paris again. She hadn’t been since she wrapped up her and her parents’ affairs two years ago, and she was glad she was only there for a short while.

Damian portalled over, thanks to Kaalki, and they disguised themselves to go sightsee.

Marinette showed him Master Fu’s shop, the Couffaine houseboat, her grandparents’ house, and at last, the park by her old house, where she used to sketch.

The sunlight filtered golden through the leaves, the warm air blowing Marinette’s hair in her face.

Damian brushed it out of the way and handed her an elastic off his wrist.

She took it with a smile, grateful one of them could keep elastics close at hand.

They came out at the other end of the park, standing facing the corner where the bakery used to be.

Marinette’s grip on Damian’s hand tightened, and she wiped a tear away from her cheek.

“Let’s head back, mon ange .”

~~~~~

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

“Bonjour, Paris!” called Fairy the next night on the catwalk. “As many of you know, I’m originally from here. It’s good to be back!” And it really was, as she thought about it. With Damian by her side, her return had been much less painful than she had originally thought.

“As I wrote Lady Luck to pay homage to the Miraculous Team, I’m proud to perform it in their city! If you’re watching this, I hope you know how much we appreciate your hard work and selfless sacrifices!”

She knew the Couffaines were in the audience, and Chloe was backstage. Adrien and Kagami were planning their wedding for the week she was back, so she was unsure if they would be too busy to come or not. She had sent them tickets anyways.

Her guitarist played the opening riff, and she started the song.

~~~~~

Adrien and Kagami were married with Marinette and Damian in attendance. They planned to honeymoon in Osaka, then fly to Gotham for Marinette and Damian’s wedding. Two days later, Fairy and Icarus returned to Gotham.

Marinette and Damian’s long absences had been chalked up to wedding planning, which was true. Mari only wanted a small wedding–just friends and her few family members– and Damian didn’t want lots of fuss either. His family attending was enough fuss, considering all their drama, he grumbled to her once. She simply giggled and told him she was sure they would be on their best behaviour.

Wayne Manor had much larger grounds than Marinette’s house, so the ceremony was set to be held there.

Tikki, Wayzz, and Pollen definitely never snuck over to encourage the lush grass and flowering blossoms, and Trixx never aided and abetted by illusioning them. The greenery was all Alfred’s green thumb.

In between concerts, Mari sewed her wedding dress and Chloe’s maid of honour dress.

Damian’s tux and Jon’s suit were already prepared, and she collected what had been Gina’s veil while she was in Paris.

The final touches of embroidery were added in the last weeks before the wedding, and all the preparations ran smoothly, thanks to Chloe and Damian’s combined terrifying ruthless efficiency.

October 10th dawned clear and bright, sunny for once in Gotham.

(Marinette bet it was something to do with Tikki’s luck and cleansing accumulating in breaking down the curses on Gotham.)

As Chloe helped her dress she reflected that maybe she should be nervous, but she only felt happy and content. She was marrying her romantic soulmate today, what more could she ask?

(The whole week before she carefully avoided even thinking of anything that could go wrong, lest Plagg’s bad luck jinx them.)

Marinette surveyed herself in the mirror by the door as Tikki and Pollen slipped into their Chosen’s bouquets.

Her veil was her ‘something borrowed’, Tikki’s earrings her ‘something old’, her dress her ‘something new’, and the sapphire necklace Damian gifted her for her birthday her ‘something blue’.

The dress was scoop-necked white tulle over white silk, the layers creating a slightly flouffy skirt. It was simple and understated, but when the light shone on it, gold threads embroidered throughout the fabric became visible. The patterns ran from her slightly pouffed sleeves, down her fitted bodice, and branched off in the skirt. Many little mementoes and details important to her and Damian were stitched in it. Ladybugs, the league of assassins and the bat symbol, a needle and thread, masks for Fairy and Icarus, dates important in their relationship, like their first meeting, the day Damian proposed, the day they found each other in her shop.

Damian’s suit was black, but another gold thread wound throughout it, spots and feathers trimming the edges. Plagg had taken a liking to Damian, and she had occasionally let him practice with the ring, just in case he needed to use it, so a tiny pocket for Plagg was sewn into his suit as well.

The car pulled up to the flower strewn aisle, and Marinette gripped her bouquet, preparing to step out. The door opened and Bruce extended his hand.

She took it with a smile, sad that he wasn’t her own father but pleased that she could incorporate Damian’s into the programme.

Alfred, as the officiant, was waiting at the end of the aisle with Damian and Jon, Damian’s best man.

Damian’s jaw dropped as he saw Marinette walk down the aisle like a pageant queen, but he quickly closed it when Jon nudged him.

His eyes fell briefly to Tikki, hidden in the bouquet Mari held. She and the other kwamis had given him the equivalent of a shovel talk, which he took quite seriously, as he should. They all walked away from that conversation satisfied (and a little unsettled, on Damian’s end).

Damian met Marinette’s love-filled gaze and smiled widely at her, causing Dick, Bruce, and Alfred to tear up a little.

Tim, Steph, and Babs were a little surprised at how outwardly happy Damian was acting, but were pleased for him. Cass watched closely as Marinette took Damian’s hand and joined him in front of Alfred. Her hypothesis was confirmed when a faint golden glow appeared as they exchanged rings. Soulmates .

Bruce eyed his new daughter-in-law’s bouquet. He was sure something in it was watching him.

Plagg cackled quietly in Damian’s pocket.

After a lovely reception provided by Alfred and Wang Feng and Marinette’s cousin Fei, the newlyweds departed for parts unknown on their honeymoon.

In reality, they moved into 195 Andes Plaza. Relaxing at home sounded much better than jetting off after they’d just been on an extended world tour. Now was the time to be quiet and put down roots.

(It also had the added benefit of keeping the Batfam’s prying eyes off them, as the Bats didn’t expect them to be under their noses, still in Gotham. After all, who decided Gotham was a prime honeymoon destination? Only Damian and Marinette.)

#daminette #DCxMLB #IbTS #fic #ali writes

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cheesysaggychick · 2 years

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Tailoring Music with Threads of Literature: A Comparative Analysis of the Anthology, “Lockdown Litanies: Countless Untold Stories” and Taylor Swift’s Masterpieces (A Song Association)

I have been staring at these blank pages for days now and I cannot seem to fill the blank spaces that need filling. I do not know if it is because I am still in the adjustment period coming from summer vacation to face-to-face classes or just the feelings I have felt after rereading this collection countless times. I believe it’s the latter. Honestly, if this were a physical, hand-written task, it would just be crumpled pieces of paper lying on the ground. As I was listening to music, trying to clear my mind, and rest my eyes, I was punched in the gut when I encountered the line “It's hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair” from the song Change by Taylor Swift. Like the threads that make up our clothes, coats, and masks, every prick of the needle of life is like death… by a thousand cuts, and yet we continue to live on every day as if we have no burns to hide, and bruises to cover. But what if the day comes when we just stop bothering about the blood and bruises? Stop hiding the cries and the curses. Become indifferent. Would that be a success or a failure in living life? I do not think it is the former nor it is the latter. Thus join me as I scour through the works of these two artists while I ransack my own mind.

First entry: “Dear Diary,” is a poem about regret and how the author is yet to overcome those regrets they wallowed themselves in. The persona discussed how the past two years have been a heck of a ride for them and that they have undergone several changes over the course of the years. Along the lines, “After a part of me died, over two years I froze inside, and locked myself unable to do things, I love the most.”, I cannot help but feel like in Taylor Swift’s this is me trying. Just the title says a thousand unsaid words of mine. When Taylor said at the beginning “I've been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting”, folklore’s ninth track could be the perfect parallel for this first entry. Both literary pieces have shown components of a letter written by someone that is only meant for themselves having no one to tell their feelings to. Both artists are on the verge of life, and they cannot seem to handle the pressure of things as a result of the inevitable passing of time. But at the very least, both are trying and are learning lessons as they move forward. The rest of the first entry ends with the persona showing a sense of acceptance. The author lets go and are ahead of a lifelong journey of healing as they move to discover their purpose in life and transform them into art, precisely like Miss Swift.

Second entry: The Tale of a Modern Sisyphus. Now, this hits close to home. As a bold young girl, there is always a moment when my views and ideals are questioned in a conversation hence there is a spur-of-moment decision about whether to speak up or not. This is no different, especially on social media. I believe this is because of the mindset of older people that when you are young, they assume you know nothing. Contrary to their beliefs, they might be bigger, but we're faster and never scared. This entry reminds me of two classic Taylor Swift hits namely Only the young, from Miss Americana, and The Man from Lover. Like the modern Sisyphus, these endless intimidations and expectations set upon us women, from the moment we were born, are something that only we can truly understand. Just as seen in the latest national elections, the invisible glass ceiling still exists and there will always be a barrier dividing men and women. However bloody a man’s hands are, a woman’s fashion sense will always matter more than that as said in the lyrics, “What I was wearing, if I was rude, could all be separated from my good ideas and power moves”. Now, what’s that like? Nevertheless, I happen to know an upstanding woman who is, as the poem describes “Not defined by her defeat, but of being gracious—, gracious to push the boulder up the mountain, and start once again like nothing happened.”. She would be the last man standing, whoever she may be. So, do not waste a moment and speak now.

Third entry: O’yayi is a prose poem that broke my heart a tad. When I looked for the translation of o’yayi, the prose made more sense since it means lullaby or an act of panghehele in Filpino. The narrator in the text took in and coddled a traumatized woman named Yayi, which was confusing, especially when he decided to marry her. What a godsend, some may say, but I do not. As the prose progressed, the persona professed his undying love and affection towards Yayi. It was evident in his flowery words how much he values her, it breaks his heart. Although they say true love hurts, I do not think this is that. He is imprisoned in his own mind and in the feelings he has for Yayi, and yet still, up to her death, his feelings were unrequited, at least it seems so.

The entirety of the prose, unfortunately, reminds me of 1989’s all you had to do was stay especially in the lines “All you had to do was stay, had me in the palm of your hand, then why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?”. In the end, Dante was left to fend up for himself while he cleans the mess he’s made, which was just himself especially after Yayi dies. He really has his way of picking in the litter.

(I am a child of divorce) (Disclaimer: I am happy for Tom having his first child okay)

Fourth entry: Two Red Laces on the Wonderwall. This exact poem ignites something in me among the rest. Its beat and words have some sort of wildness in them I cannot help but associate it with cruel summer from Lover. There is an obvious sensual romantic and erotic message conveyed in both passages. The narrator expressed their intoxication towards their partner in their entirety, especially when comparing them with wine. I cannot help but associate those lines with these lines: “And it's new, the shape of your body, it's blue, the feeling I've got, And it's ooh, whoa, oh, it’s cruel summer”. I know, reading the lyrics here may seem corny, but the giddiness both artists felt was comparable as it was tingling their insides.

However, in the poem’s lines, “I fell in your words. You, vindictive. I did what you said and leaned forward, I opened my whole to bare my soul.”, from tears of joy, the narrator’s tears ricocheted and became tears of pain and treachery. Don’t blame me talked about playing, and enjoying life fearlessly, and then one day it backfires. In both their works, they have expressed their lifestyles in lines wherein it was evident they did enjoy their lives. From then on, things went downhill for both artists as they were what seemed to be betrayed by their own objects of affection. What seemed to be a Wonderwall, was tarnished and tainted by laces of unfortunate phrases. This time, Taylor did the comparing as she compares her love with drugs. Just like Taylor, the narrator cannot help but feel a guilty pleasure for their choices because although a part of them is fulfilled and joyous, their relentless actions have caused the other side of them to be destroyed and become reliant on the cause of destruction. Well, I guess we cannot blame them, ‘cause don’t we all get too attached to someone at times?

Fifth entry: Umbilical, is a piece that talks about the narrator’s desperation to save their mother. This entry shows the narrator’s emotions which were generally pleas of gratitude and anguish. Umbilical began with lines of gratitude wherein they expressed them in lines like “The pain she suffered just for me to see” depicting how their mother resorted to different sacrifices just to provide them the life they deserve. It is undeniable that this is a sentimental entry that anyone who appreciates and loves their hardworking mothers can relate to. However, this is not about the glorification of suffering, it is about acknowledging them and how we think of paying back our parents. Along the lines “Hush, sleep tight. Everything will be alright., Lilom, Lilom, I beg. Spare her for me.”, this reminds me of the song soon you’ll get better. Not just by the lyrics, but also by the beat, tempo, and emotions, both literary pieces have shown agony from the authors. In the song, the line “you'll get better soon, 'cause you have to” was refrained giving me the impression that although we can get indifferent in life, we will always have a soft spot for those we love. As Taylor said, desperate people find something to believe in, which is parallel to the narrator’s tone in the poem wherein they were begging someone to spare their suffering mother who was never named but implied as a divine being. The poem and the song both end with a sense of hope as both accept their fate but still continue to hold on.

(a moment of silence for blondie’s hotness)

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okay, so...

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uhuh

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Sixth entry: RE: Paper (I’m Red, IMRaD)*, now this is a tricky one. It might seem obvious to assume that I would be using red for this poem, but I won’t, although I have considered it. Among the rest, this entry has to be the most intimidating of all. The entire poem is a descriptive reason, even though it has been years since the K-12 curriculum has been implemented, its efficacy has never been really proven. This is not just because of the shock core impact it has given the already inefficient educational system, but also the toll it has given the unprepared. Although the teachers are equipped with already excellent skills, in terms of the necessary ones needed for this system, they are not. As the poem states “Help teachers help students. After all, we cannot give what we don’t have.”, we may have hundreds and thousands of teachers, but if there is a scarcity of resources to help them perform to their extreme, we will achieve no more than a mediocre result. Just like what Taylor said in better than revenge, “And do you still feel like you know what you're doing, 'Cause I don't think you do.” With the wheelchair and neckbrace stunts, I do not think the system, and the authorities who run it will ever know what they are doing. And slowly, our economy, the teachers, and the students will suffer for it.

Seventh entry: 3 A.M. Awakening. As we reach the end, from here we take a sharp turn. As much as I hate to admit it, I think I have seen this before, and I did not like the ending. 3 A.M Awakening dwells on the narrator’s emotional state while experiencing what seems to be an emotional breakdown. In these first lines “Breathe as if it’s easy to do today, but I think much in a different way.”, this resonates with speak now’s innocent specifically in the line “Did some things you can't speak of, but at night you'll live it all again” as both have indicated struggles with their decisions and eventually overthinking about them in nights of day. I correlate one with another as both have shown symptoms of instability and indigency in emotional leverage.

Meanwhile, in the lines “Heaven spoke lies to me telling I’m sick, with people’s eyes daggering every inch.”, the narrator fights their loneliness as they try to break out of their intrusive thoughts. Among the rest, in my opinion, this has the most melodramatic and melancholic tone. The line resonates well with the lyric “I didn't have it in myself to go with grace” from the song my tears ricochet. Nonetheless, both were trying their hardest to live and not be swallowed by the depths of darkness as they used heaven, hell, and grace as metaphors for their experiences. For the narrator, “It's okay, life is a tough crowd…every one of us has messed up too”.

Eight entry: My Frail Lady is the one that truly broke my heart. As much as it is miserable, this reminded me of a lot of Taylor Swift songs however I will only cite a couple. The lines “Such frail, frail lady, bookkeeps her internal screams. soon she will be found— dancing on her own”, is in parallel with the song right where you left me from evermore as both the narrator and Taylor were seemed to be stunned by the situations they were placed in by the one they love. This is specifically demonstrated in the lyrics “Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it”.

(literally my soul leaving my body goodbye)

The entirety of the poem is a tragedy, a sad beautiful tragic love affair. This song resonates the most with the persona as they were both in love, and pained by their personal manifestation of their destiny. In parallel, both artists ended things, for the persona, it was their life, for Taylor, it was her love. They are still considered beautiful not because of the traces of cadavers dented in the car, or the pain and suffering turned into a song, but because despite everything, they were freed. The memories that were left behind will never be taken by anyone even if the ones who made them are already gone. That is the beauty of preservation, it will always stay there, right where you left them. Although I must say, Taylor was a frail lady herself, now she’s out of the woods, and I hope the same for the narrator.

Ninth entry: the last one is Major Arcana. I can say this last piece does live up to its title, it is major. To begin, the lines “I…see a tragic past. A heavy, draining aura has enveloped—…trace lines of broken heart and hopes on your hand, scathing—.”, have an enchanting feel to them. It has an upbeat tone to it that makes it willow in my ears like a cool summer breeze. I correlate this part of the poem with the lyrics of evermore’s first track “I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans. That's my man.” not just because both artists used the word hand as an element of showing affection, but because there is a sense of desperation in both texts.

In the same album, when Taylor said “I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it“, this can be tied to the next line of the poem which was “find your future uncertain. Six years of adjustments await” which goes to show how we can tolerate even the ugliness of things for people who we are not even secured in (editor’s note: you mean like princess diana?). This means, that we do sometimes settle for less unconsciously. As the poem ends, the persona accepts their fate after a straight flush in the cards deciding their endgame as it is in the song for she decides to just “sit and watch” as their future unfolds.

So, after everything, it is time to answer the first and last question, is indifference a success or failure in living life? After all the poems, albums, and songs I have dove into, I have come to the conclusion that it is neither a success nor it is a failure. I have understood that that is just the way life runs. Indifference is an emotion that is caused by other repressed emotions. The day will always come wherein we would lose every bit of care we have, but the fact still remains that we are in pain. It will never dry the blood, nor tend the bruise, it will just silence the curses and the cries, ignore all the pleas and the sighs. In short, indifference gives no difference. Defeating our demons is something that only time can do for us, with much effort and grace. Thus it is the one thing that we should feel and acknowledge. We shall not ignore those because each demon, pain, and suffering is a lesson. Nevertheless, it takes time and effort to heal enough to be able to begin again.

Alas! I guess I have finally filled the blank pages as I reached the end of this analysis. Although I must say I have gone through legitimate stages of existential crisis having finished this anthology which made me question my reason for living. Nonetheless, some pieces were affirming, they were affirming in a way I felt seen, and my feelings were validated and violated simultaneously but no worries for I have no bad blood towards either of the artists. I am ending this analysis with a line from the song Change, the song I started this analysis with,

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down It's a revolution, the time will come For us to finally win.

(ps. stream midnights!) (pss. eras tour in my dreams aaaa) (psss. read the anthology here)

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