Okay, so let my imagination run wild, but this is what I imagine:
Mika is a young “merboy" who sometimes hangs out on the surface of a secluded shore. Incidentally, Yuu finds Mika’s spot purely by accident because he needed a quiet place to read and be by himself, until Mika unexpectedly pokes his head out of the water only to find this weird, adorable human thing sitting on HIS rock–clearly his territory–. Eventually, they kind of get to know each other; at first, Yuu’s kind of freaked out that there’s a kid living in water, but they bond anyway.
Mika doesn’t know how to read, so Yuu brings books and other junk to show him, and Mika is just BLOWN away at how fascinating the surface world is. Yuu can’t swim, so Mika takes it as his responsibility to teach him and show him the wonders of the sea!! At one point, Mika gets too excited and almost drowns his Yuu-chan. They are so attached to each other.
In 2x03 Daisy Goodwin parallels the mutual decline and death of two of Victoria’s favourites - Dash and Lord M. When she speaks of the one, she is also speaking of the other. And it hurts. Not gonna lie. I shed all the tears.
concept: we’re twenty five, i’m starting my diplomatic career in London, he’s finishing his PhD and living the high life around Italy. We saw each other the last time three months ago, for our engagement party in the French Riviera. We talk on the phone every night when the dinner parties we attend are over, I send him my books with love letters inside, he always sends them back with pressed roses hidden between the pages. We live our lives pursuing different kinds of success, living love with freedom around the world, but each other’s arms always feel like coming home. When I get off my plane in Rome, his elegant coat and his scarf welcome me back. He hugs me tightly, hiding his face on my neck, and we walk to our apartment hand in hand. We make love and go to the opera. I never feel trapped, but I’m not lonely.
You fling yourself in front of Damian, wrapping him tightly
in your arms, but you only feel the bullet graze your side. It still hurts like
a bitch, it feels like fire streaking through you, but it isn’t what you
“Connor!” Lex shouts
You whip around, your eyes widening in horror when you see
your cousin. Kon let out a wheeze, his knees buckling under him. Lex catches
him before he hits the ground.
“Nonono! Conner! Just hold on, son. Mercy!!” Lex whips around, “Get the OR ready! Y/N!” He
turns back to you, “Get ready for a blood transfusion”
You nod numbly, unable to really comprehend what happened.
Connor had jumped in front of a Kryptonite bullet in order to save you. Quickly
letting go of Damian you scoop Kon up and take off after Mercy.
Once he’s in the OR, you give three pints of blood, more
that you’ve ever given before.
You whip around, the rooms spinning around you, but
thankfully someone grabs onto you, leading you to a chair before you hit the
“I’m here, Beloved. Did you get your side treated?”
You shake your head, “Didn’t have time, everyone went to
help Conner, I didn’t want …”
Damian sighed, gently pulling your uniform up, reveling the
graze on your side, “You don’t need to lose any more blood than you already
gave up. Where does Luthor keep the medical supplies?”
“Down the hall, third door on the left. And can you let
Uncle Clark out of the fourth room on the right? He’s under a red-sun lamp, so
he might be a bit woozy”
Conner is in surgery for almost two hours, a lot faster than
it would have been for most humans, but still a long time. Uncle Lex sets
Conner up in a hospital suite, your blood hanging in a bag by his bedside. Even
though Conner has mixed DNA, your Kryptonian blood won’t hurt him.
“Y/N, you need to rest.” Uncle Clark gently puts a hand on
your shoulder, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Conner. He looks
so pale against the sheets. Damian is talking to Bruce, he isn’t happy with you
or with Conner right now, and you know that you need to talk to him, but you
don’t want to leave. What if something happens when you leave?
“I’m fine, Uncle Clark, I just want him to wake up”
Clark sighs, his fingers tightening slightly, “Go talk to
Damian. He isn’t doing so good right now. Lex and I will keep an eye on Conner.
We have a few things to talk about anyway”
“Alright. Please don’t fight. It messes with the healing
aura in the room” You give your uncle a small smile, and get up, “Don’t listen,
“Promise I won’t”
The walk to the hallway seems to drag on forever, on the way
there you realize that Uncle Lex had given Damian cloths to change into,
because he isn’t in his Robin costume anymore.
“… no. Father, I am waiting here until … I said no … Tell
Grayson … Yes, alright … Goodbye, Father” Damian yanks the phone away from his
ear and jabbing the end-call button. “Y/N? Did you need something?”
“I – I wanted to make sure you were alright” You whisper.
“Am I alright? You and Kon-El were shot with a Kryptonite
bullet protecting me. Your cousin might still die, and what am I to do? What if
he dies? Will you blame me for his death? I hate being uncertain, and you only
ever make me uncertain!!” Damian shouts.
You flinch away from him, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being a
bitch, I’m sorry for no knowing how to handle anything, I’m sorry for hurting
you, I’m just sorry that I’m not what you want”
Damian lunges forward, pulling you into a crushing hug, “I’m
so sorry I made you feel like you are inadequate. You will always be more than
enough. I love you. I love you so much that it is terrifying. I could not
imagine a world where you are not by my side. Will you forgive me?”
Tears streak down your face, and your arms tighten around
his shoulders, “I’ll always forgive you! I love you so much that it hurts! I
was so angry and so hurt, and I missed you so much”
“I missed you as well, Beloved”
“Promise me we won’t so that ever again, that we’ll stay and
talk everything out” you whisper
“I promise that I will never let you leave and we shall
never go to bed angry. I will promise you that”
“Can we go to sleep?” You pull away and blush, “I always
sleep better when you’re there”
Damian’s eyes soften, and his mouth twitches up in a smile, “Of
course, Beloved. I will wake you if there are any changes in Conner’s condition”
“Thank you, Dami”
Once Y/N is in bed, finally asleep, Damian pulls out his
phone and opens a new text. It’s to Jason.
Enough branches had been removed from the roof to leave a smoke hole; I could see the evening stars, as I cuddled against Jamie and listened to him criticize his workmanship.
“Look at that,” he said crossly, lifting his chin at the far corner. “I’ve gone and laid in a crooked pole, and it’s put the whole of that line off the straight.”
“I don’t imagine the deer carcasses will care,” I murmured. “Here, let’s see that hand.”
“And the rooftree’s a good six inches lower at the one end than the other,” he went on, ignoring me, but letting me have his left hand. Both hands were smoothly callused, but I could feel the new roughnesses of scrapes and cuts, and so many small splinters that his palm was prickly to the touch.
“You feel like a porcupine,” I said, brushing my hand over his fingers. “Here, move closer to the fire, so I can see to pull them out.”
He moved obligingly, crawling around Ian, who—freshly de-splintered himself—had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Rollo’s furry side. Unfortunately, the change of position exposed new weaknesses of construction to Jamie’s critical eye.
“You’ve never built a shed out of logs before, have you?” I interrupted his denunciation of the doorway, neatly tweaking a large splinter out of his thumb with my tweezers.
“Ow! No, but—”
“And you built the bloody thing in two days, with nothing but a felling ax and a knife, for God’s sake! There’s not a nail in it! Why ought you to expect it to look like Buckingham Palace?”
“I’ve never seen Buckingham Palace,” he said, rather mildly. He paused. “I do take your point, though, Sassenach.”
“Good.” I bent closely over his palm, squinting to make out the small dark streaks of splinters, trapped beneath the skin.
“I suppose it willna fall down, at least,” he said, after a longer pause.
“Shouldn’t think so.” I dabbed a cloth to the neck of the brandy bottle, swabbed his hand with it, then turned my attention to his right hand.
He didn’t speak for a time. The fire crackled softly to itself, flaring up now and then as a draft reached in between the logs to tickle it.
“The house is going to be on the high ridge,” he said suddenly. “Where the strawberries grow.”
“Will it?” I murmured. “The cabin, you mean? I thought that was going to be at the side of the clearing.” I’d taken out as many splinters as I could; those that were left were so deeply embedded that I would have to wait for them to work their way nearer the surface.
“No, not the cabin. A fine house,” he said softly. He leaned back against the rough logs, looking across the fire, out through the chinks to the darkness beyond. “Wi’ a staircase, and glass windows.”
“That will be grand.” I laid the tweezers back in their slot, and closed the box.
“Wi’ high ceilings, and a doorway high enough I shall never bump my heid going in.”
“That will be lovely.” I leaned back beside him, and rested my head on his shoulder. Somewhere in the far distance, a wolf howled. Rollo lifted his head with a soft wuff!, listened for a moment, then lay down again with a sigh.
“With a stillroom for you, and a study for me, lined with shelves for my books.”
“Mmmm.” At the moment, he possessed one book—The Natural History of North Carolina, published 1733, brought along as guide and reference.
The fire was burning low again, but neither of us moved to add more wood. The embers would warm us through the night, to be rekindled with the dawn.
Jamie put an arm around my shoulders, and tilting sideways, took me with him to lie curled together on the thick layer of fallen leaves that was our couch.
“And a bed,” I said. “You could build a bed, I expect?”
Felipe posted that picture of Valtteri with his cat on the instagram, and now I’m just imagining him browsing the internet for pictures of Valtteri, because he’s missing the time they were teammates and he didn’t have to carry the team all by himself.