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breserker · 4 months

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The Rest of IWRY p.1 - Chapters 19 and 20

So hey, some background and context; I'm the original author of IWRY I just swapped accounts due to some pretty hefty baggage associated with the last account in no small part because of IWRY - nothing so dramatic as a scandal so much as I deeply injured myself emotionally and physically working on IWRY, and have a chronically deconditioned wrist now. Emotionally I was severed from my art in a severe burnout fashion especially when I couldn't get those emotions out thanks to the injury even when i wanted to do art--which was never.

So that's why it was originally dropped. I've decided to share what I've written and the rest of my notes, maybe some scraps of illustrations that made it through. I initially wanted to just dump it in one post but there's a lot! and a lot I want to say, so here's how this is gonna work: In this post there'll be the entirety of chapter 19 AND chapter 20 (also unillustrated. my pic notes are actually terrible because I always worked in close proximity to them I always figured I knew what I was saying arrrrgh). I'll dig up what I can find of chapter 19's art. Next part will be chapter 21's beginning and from there it'll be sharing scraps of notes and outlines, plans, and commentary.

If you've stuck around or remember me in any way, thank you. My relationship to art has healed after a lot of recontextualizing and being kinder to myself than I was before. You can (obviously) find me here, and my current project is a book series. First book is out here, but please be warned it is definitively an adult series. Still messy and dionysian though, of course.

Okay, without further ado:

design concepts for chapter 19's cover:

scattered early illustrations (i was rereading archie sonic at the time you'll have to forgive me the echidna oc)

Chapter 19: Prince of a Failing Empire

What...

[pic – hands....are clean?]

What in the world...what the—

[pic – mirror mirror on the wall who's the most SCARLESS of them all]

What the fuck?? What the...fuck...

[pic – touch the blank spot on your face]

“Good morning, champ!” Odd cheered as he entered the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder. I gaped at him, “Today's the big day!”

“Wh...wh...,” work, mouth, work, speak, “What?”

Odd's laughter filled the bathroom to the groans of the other, still-sleepy boys, “Don't tell me you forgot! Are you kidding me?”

My hand slipped on the edge of the sink and my stomach turned inwards. Odd seemed nonplussed and started to whistle. I heard the showers going but there wasn't the rest of the buzz that usually comes with the morning rush to get ready for school.

“O-Odd...,” I murmured, “What's...wrong with me?”

He turned and cocked his head, “Apparently a lot, if you forgot! Humph, grumpy-pants, I'll let you figure it out for yourself. At least it'll be a nice surprise!”

“N-No I mean...,”

I looked back to the mirror. Smooth. Scarless skin.

“My face...,”

“Uh, what about it? Got a zit? Haha!”

I stared hard.

“...Nevermind.”

Odd didn't seem to notice and he was gone. I got dressed and walked outside. Simple, plain, normal movements. People didn't seem to look at me one way or the other. Rather, they did, but only because I was the one looking at them in a weird way, not the other way around. I shivered. It felt like a horror movie, but it was so normal, was normal supposed to feel like this?

“Hey,”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning on my heel to see her there. Her. Yumi. Her jacket seemed bigger than normal, or maybe she just looked...softer in it. Still there were studs on her shoulders that shone in the mid-morning light. She looked nervous, occasionally biting her lip. I noticed then that she had firmly stuck her fingers into the joint of her elbows, keeping herself from gnawing on her thumbs as she usually did when she was anxious. Hence lip-biting. Win some, lose some. My face fell, and I tried to sneer at her, like I usually did, but the sneer wouldn't come. It couldn't come. All I could feel was an awkward smile on my lips which made my heart beat faster.

“Uh,” I grunted. Yumi smirked, still shy. Why was she like this?

“I missed you.”

Oh god, oh god not one of these, not again, not this—

“I missed you, Ulrich.”

I staggered.

Ulrich.

Ulrich!!

My hand went up to my cheek again, pristine, perfect, scarless.

“Wh-What did you say?” I gurgled, “Wh...What did you call me?”

“Ulrich...? Are you alright?”

“N...No, I...,”

[pic – she embraces him]

I stiffened. How many days? Weeks? Years? Four? Four. Four years without me. Four years without her. I missed her. I missed this. Just...being here with her. As a friend, as anything. Close. So close I had begun to believe there wasn't a word that had been invented to describe the relationship we had.

Close. So very, very close.

“Yumi...,”

“I missed you so much. Ulrich, god I've missed you.”

Pain welled up in my chest as her grip turned tight. Tight but not painful. She started to tremble, I steadied her by grasping her arms. Yumi pulled her face away from my chest and stared up at me, her eyes never straying to the cheek that should've been marked, that should've had the scar. No, all she wanted to see was me, and all I wanted to see was her gazing at me without any hatred.

It had been my fault. But god I missed this and I didn't realize it. And then I started to feel guilty. And then she held my smooth cheeks, and then she kissed me.

[pic – exactly that]

And then she kissed me.

[pic – bre you are going to hate yourself for drawing so much kissing]

“Ulrich,” she was speaking in a whine now, a sad, desperate little whine that only constricted the pain in my chest. I was pulled closer. I missed her. God I missed her.

And she missed me.

And I wanted everything to stay like this so badly.

[pic – more kissing I hate you bre I hate everything]

So, so badly.

It had been a nightmare. Reese Anders was a nightmare.

[pic – getting a little passionate there]

Please.

“Ulrich,” she gasped again. And again. All she could say was my name, my name, over and over and over in a steadily rising sense of urgency. She said it so much that it stopped hurting to hear her say it the way I thought it always would, and I kept begging her in my mind to never stop saying it. Ulrich. Ulrich. Ulrich.

Ulrich.

Ulrich!!

REESE!

[pic – wake up from that near-wet dream]

“Yo, you okay there, buddy?”

Sweat plastered hair and clothes alike to my skin. I couldn't yet tell if I was hot or cold—maybe I had been flashing between the two. At first I could barely move, which shot waves of panic through my body that forced a spasm. Odd flinched involuntarily.

“H-Hey, whoa, it was just...a dream, I think. Just...you know...,”

A dream? A dream.

[pic – noooo]

Of course it was a dream.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Didn't sound great.”

I shot him a look that would've killed a cockroach then turned, wrapping the blankets so tight around me it hurt. Necessity demanded it; I could feel the build up behind my eyes, stinging and unwelcome. Spend another minute looking at Odd, looking at the scrawny, wild teenager he had become, and I wasn't sure I could hold everything back. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Odd to give up on getting a coherent answer from me, and when his breaths began to have rhythm I allowed myself to cry.

Even though it was just harsh, hitched breaths in a fetal position, it counted as crying. There was nothing else it could've possibly been.

Dawn broke. The birds sang, groggy students found their way to the showers, cars in the city started to move, and the school bell readied itself to ring. I laid awake in bed, no different than the day before that, and the day before that, and every day before that. Nothing was different.

Nothing would be different until my feet hit the floor.

Odd woke up late, as usual, and though everything was going as routine as it normally did, he seemed to sniff the change in the air. He wouldn't stop glancing over at me. Part of me wished he could just dismiss it as the shock of finally becoming a warrior, but he knew better than that.

What an awful feeling. Odd knowing better.

His voice was cordial but too soft. It was never like Odd to walk on eggshells like this. Was my demeanor that different?

I didn't want an answer.

Back in Germany school days would end up fading to the background as my mind set on autopilot. Especially if it was after a bad night—everything became gray as it was a matter of the physical body getting through the day and nothing else. It was the only way to find comfort when I was in pain.

I wanted the same to happen here, but there are some wishes that couldn't come true.

[pic – blank reese on a bench]

[pic – blank reese in class]

No matter how hard I tried.

[pic – struggling to go back to blank in cafeteria]

Worse, it felt like everyone's eyes were on me. I tried to pretend I wasn't acting different, but when I was staring ahead instead of glaring, ignoring instead of snapping, and most of all, when I was pretending that Yumi didn't exist instead of antagonizing her...

[pic – she sat down next to him]

When neither of us acknowledged this...

A white noise of buzzing gossip filled the schoolyard. It would be impossible to believe that every voice was whispering about me, but I had a habit of thinking about the impossible. If dreams were any indication.

And then, in between classes. Yumi had been heading in the opposite direction.

[pic – passing by]

She didn't say a word.

I felt like throwing up. Throwing up because my stomach did a cartwheel the likes of which I hadn't felt since I was thirteen. I staggered on my feet, pushing into some random kid I barely remembered from way back then. I didn't realize I had stopped cold in my tracks until Aelita's hands pressed on my shoulders.

“Reese!”

Jarred into reality, I awkwardly stumbled in the direction Aelita was pushing me. Face after face of kids passed by like schools of unidentifiable fish. My shoulders hit cold stone as she pushed me against a pillar, trying to act as though she just wanted some affection from her boyfriend. But she was too focused on the crowd, making sure they paid us as little mind as possible. Hiding me away from all of their faces.

When the rush of students became a trickle, Aelita finally looked up at my face. She was breathing heavily. I'm not sure I was breathing at all.

“Reese,” her voice was urgent, maybe even annoyed despite the hushed tone, “Reese, what's going on, what happened?”

I stared at her.

“Reese...,” Aelita tried again, annoyance turning to pure worry. I felt like stone, and because of that I felt unnatural when I started to move. My lip quivered and my vision blurred.

“Is it her?”

Aelita was smart. Really damn smart. True that it wouldn't take an Einstein to figure this shit out, if you knew me. But Aelita—there was something else about the way she was smart. Something about how she understood without asking. Something about how she trusted me more than I trusted myself.

[pic – oh god here comes the waterfall]

[pic – complete flooding]

I couldn't stop it. I couldn't even tell if I had tried or had just let it happen like some fucking idiot. It rushed over like a wave, overtaking me from the gut upwards. Before I knew it my textbooks had crushed my feet and my hands were desperately trying to dam up the tears.

“Oh...,” Aelita cooed, pain lacing her voice, “Oh, Reese...,”

I cried. I cried and cried and cried. Everything was painful. Each breath, hiccup, and tear—it was all in pain. I wanted to be small, wanted to hide myself away and disappear. Maybe just for a little while. Maybe forever.

But I wasn't small. Aelita's soft hands on my chest reminded me of that. And when her hands moved to my sides to pull my aching sternum to her ear, there was no way to even pretend that I had ever been small.

“It's okay, Reese,” No, it wasn't, “It's okay.” She rubbed my shoulders, soothing or at least attempting to soothe. I blubbered, tried to speak, as if there was a way to explain away all this stupid crying in some sort of cool, collected manner. Aelita was quiet save for the occasional hum, trying her damndest to radiate compassion as she let me sob. The gloves on my hands were soon soaked through, tears trickling down my wrists.

Face pressed to my chest, Aelita finally asked the question I was dreading.

“Reese, what happened?”

Something snagged in my throat and my voice cracked, “It wasn't supposed to happen,”

“What?” Aelita whispered, her fingers clenching at how I sounded. I shook my head.

“It wasn't supposed to happen. And it did. It wasn't supposed to happen but he was there—and I—and Yumi—,”

Aelita's hands moved from my shoulders to my collar, gently pressing me further against the pillar in a way that was somehow comforting.

“Hey—wait, Reese, I don't understand,” she said, “You're going too fast. Slow down, tell me everything.”

I shut my mouth, bit my lip, and tried to force myself to calm down. Immediately I could tell it wasn't working. All it did was build up each sob so that when it was finally released it was ten times louder and less human than it should've been. I knew that Aelita had some sort of right to know—no, more like I wanted or needed her to know. But this didn't just happen to me, it happened to Yumi as well, and I had no right to tell what she probably didn't want me to say. The darkening of her face if she found out I had tattled everything appeared in my mind and I physically recoiled, much to Aelita's dismay. Maybe Yumi figured that Aelita would find out eventually, but it wasn't fair...it wasn't fair...

All I could keep saying was “This shouldn't have happened.”

Frustration lined her voice, but still Aelita kept calm as she kept me against the pillar, “Then what did happen?” She shut her eyes and made a small noise, recanting her words, “What did you want to happen?”

“I...,” I felt myself shrink, deflating with the realization that I couldn't envision that night happening in any better way. The reality that imagination couldn't patch or paint over my raw memories, not even in the slightest...

Over the enfolding sense of disillusion I felt a twinge of jealousy over Vivi. Maybe it was just because she was six and she was allowed to have a talent for imagination, but I yearned for a way to erase and replace what I couldn't change. Even if it was just in my head, it would make my mind a better place to live, even though nothing could make it okay.

“I don't know,” I quietly wailed, “I don't...God I don't know...,”

Aelita exhaled, pulling away to stare at me. Her face was solemn, sympathetic but, ultimately, unable to help. I tried to shake out of it, to look back at her, meet her gaze. My eyes felt red and puffy, nearly swelling up to the point where I wouldn't be able to see whether my hands were in front or not. Tears continued to trickle out, constantly a reminder that things had changed and nothing I had done had prevented any of it. I breathed, trying to follow Aelita's lead.

“I—I think I love her again...,” I blurted, and then, with what I just said stabbing me in the gut, I shook, renewed sobs exploding with each heave of my chest. Fear gripped every part of me, eyes widening as I stared past Aelita, trembling and coughing.

“I love her again...?!” I squeaked, terrified. Oh, oh Reese. This. This was not supposed to happen. This was the last thing you wanted to happen.

You know that.

It wouldn't be a lie to say I reveled in the fact that I didn't feel anything for Yumi anymore. I'm not sure if that made taunting her easier, but I'd like to say it did because now the thought of throwing her under the bus and laughing was the most heinous crime I could think of to do to her now. Hell, each match against Yumi was probably me gloating about how much I didn't care for her now. Strutting about like I owned the place because I foolishly thought I owned myself. Ha. Hahaha.

“Fuck...!” I squeaked again, unable to bring it any power to make it a shout. My voice cut off and I buried myself again, fingernails digging into my scalp as if they would find salvation there, “No...!!”

“Reese,” Aelita soothed, “Reese, it's okay. Feeling things is okay. Trust me. Whatever happened that brought...this along...I don't blame you for it, and I won't. Okay?”

My eyes snapped to her. What she said reached my ears but my crazed mind fixated on only a few precise words, shaken up in my shitty brain and coughed out. A thought hit me that I hadn't considered before, staring at Aelita while I was on the verge of a panic attack.

It took watching my father hurt Yumi in order for me to love her again.

That was it, wasn't it? It was the catalyst. It brought this all back around to where I didn't want it to be. Guilt seized me and nothing was working properly anymore. I heard Aelita said that she didn't blame me for it, but as far as blaming myself...

[pic – losin' it]

“H-hey!” Aelita struggled to help support me as I all but tried to give up in that moment, “Reese, it's okay! Reese! Reese...,” Over and over. Reese Reese Reese. Even I was calling myself that in my head, chiding and lecturing. Last night's dream echoed, but it was like I could no longer recall Yumi calling me Ulrich—as if she had always said Reese and I was just remembering it wrong in the first place. Reese, Reese...

“Reese...,” Despite everything Aelita still somehow seemed calm. Petting her hands through my tangled hair, she helped me balance myself back on my feet, taking a deep breath. She let the silence be for a while, occasionally slipping her lip between her teeth to bite in worry and thoughtfulness. The far-off sound of Jim's whistle made her blink a few times, and she sighed heavily.

“Can you make it to class?”

I stared at her dumbly, and she concluded for me, “Okay. Go up to your room, I'll think of something to tell Ms. Meyer.”

She bent down, pulling my fallen textbooks into a pile to hand to me. Frankly I'm surprised my numb arms reached out to take them from her. My stare was blank, ceasing to follow her as she started to move out of my vision.

“I wish this would stop,” I muttered.

“Class?” Aelita gave a fake smirk, “Sorry, for as much as I can do on Lyoko, I can't—,”

“I wish I would stop,” I interrupted as if she hadn't even said anything. Aelita stopped, mid-sentence, mid-step, and turned to contemplate me with a worried expression that she was trying to hide.

“I mean...,” Aelita struggled to say, “You...you could, you know...tell. You know. Tell at least the rest of them.”

“That's not the kind of stop I meant.” I whispered.

[pic – aelita scared and staring at him]

“Please text me while I'm in class,” she whispered back, “Please come out to meet me after class.”

I turned my face away. Aelita had no choice but to leave.

I did the same.

What I wouldn't give to never see her again.

Funny that when I first left four years ago it was all so painful. Repelling meant pain, not relief. Now it was the opposite: repel from her and there was relief, there was peace. Well, peace in a way that I could pretend that nothing had changed because if I let my mind wander it became haunted and full of dread. Full of dreams. I tried to stop myself from dreaming, but that never worked. I tried to turn the dreams to nightmares, to have something awful to feed off of in hopes that I could turn our relationship back to the way it was; always warring, always fighting, full of hatred.

It was so fucking futile I didn't believe for one second that it gave me any hope. But still I tried.

God I tried.

I just wanted to leave her behind. Move on with my life. Get away.

[pic – remember when reese was angry and scary well thats not him anymore]

And all that had happened was that she infiltrated my mind. I don't even know if she was aware of what was happening to me. I was all so caught up in everything I don't even know...I'm not even sure if I could tell if the same thing was happening to her.

[pic – neutral yumi]

She looked...normal. Almost terrifyingly so. Like nothing had happened, to the point where it was like she was pretending that my presence didn't exist or that I didn't affect her. I knew her better than that; I knew she had buried the events of that night to deal with later on her own time, to not show her struggling to anyone else. She had had enough time by this point to put it all behind a mask. Nothing could bring her down, really.

But then, nothing seemed to cheer her up either. Not for Odd and Aelita's lack of trying, even Jeremie too.

[pic – memories of laughing fit]

Thanks, Ulrich. You really know how to cheer someone up.

[pic – his hand over hers]

Nope. I'm not even going to try.

I'm just going to...disappear. If I couldn't get rid of her, then it would be better to get rid of myself—at least of the premises. Get out, go away, clear my head in the woods for a bit, as I always did. The woods always helped. The woods always would help.

No matter what awful things happened between the tree trunks.

Desperation fueled me, but I tried to force whatever panic it induced to the back of my mind. Peace wouldn't come if I was too desperate to find it, after all. Sure, it was a lesson I was still struggling to learn—but Aelita helped a lot, taught me the way the doctors told her how to breathe so she wouldn't upset her heart too much, talked about how the aftermath of a seizure always made her feel and though it was exhausting it was a strange sort of calm after the storm, even if it had been scary.

Breathe, Reese, breathe.

That's right. Keep calling yourself Reese. Do you even know what that means anymore?

“Anders!”

[pic – FALCON PUNCH]

[pic – what the FUCK JUST HAPPENED TO ME—it was me, william!]

Pure shock covered up the initial pain. Then it stung. Then I felt it grow hot with blood. I gingerly touched my face, barely aware that my fingers were trembling from being shaken so bad. Confusion soon turned to scorn and I furrowed my brow, twisting my body so I could better see William. Fuck, he had come out of nowhere. Well, rather my brain was too preoccupied to have any semblance of focus on anything but...

“What the fuck,” I gurgled, rage boiling up my throat. I didn't even do anything this time, I swear! Fuck, I haven't even really done anything in like two weeks! I nursed my aching jaw, stumbling onto my feet as William stared me down, “Jesus Christ, what was that for?!”

William's eyes gleamed as he tightened his fist. I narrowed my gaze, trying to discern what he was doing as I curled my body, ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

“Don't play dumb. The whole school has seen it.”

My knuckle brushed swelling, heated skin, and the heat transferred to it. I closed my fist, ready to retaliate—but something in me softened my grip and I bit back the urge to fight, to beat his shit to pieces. I was too fucking tired and had no time for this.

“Seen what.”

“You,” he glared, accusing, “You and Yumi.”

My heartbeat quickened—two issues of Milly and Tamiya's gossip paper had come out and hadn't had any pictures of us, but I guess I hadn't actually read anything. Did...something get out? I grit my teeth, and William took this as confirmation of his suspicions and continued.

“Yeah, that's right. Everyone knows something's up, except I know Yumi the best. She wouldn't just bow down to shitheads like you.”

“Who the fuck said she bowed down to me?” I snapped. William rolled his eyes in disgust but I kept talking, “What, did she send you after me?”

As soon as the words left my mouth I severely doubted them. The way she had talked about William that night, and the...complacent way she had been treating me recently...There was no way she had confided in William and made me out to be the bad guy. That was something I expected from Sissi back in the day—hell I didn't even know or suspect Sissi would do that now, and that was saying something. But still, I had to make sure. I had to know that she wasn't double-crossing me or took advantage of what I had told her, even if one look at William made me sure she hadn't done anything of the sort. Sure. But not sure enough, apparently. Fuck my head.

“She's too fuckin' proud to say anything, and besides, I know you fucked her up,” he scoffed. White-hot anger stabbed like needles down my spine. No, that's totally fine, William, just bypass Yumi and go straight to me, it's so much easier to beat the fuck out of me and try to make yourself the hero than getting in a public argument with Yumi for the same result, isn't it?! The whole school didn't see me as anything but a fucking asshole, and with this recent development with Yumi every kid had their eyes on me, just waiting for me to make a move. Even William. Especially William.

Except William apparently had gotten tired of waiting for me to abuse Yumi's existence in front of everyone else and decided to take up the mantle of knighthood behind the scenes. No one needed to see St. George slaying the dragon so long as he came back with the dragon's head, right?

What was the dragon really doing, anyways? All this dragon wanted to do was crawl into a cave and die. I don't have time for this fucking bullshit. I shoved my fists into my pockets, ground my teeth to revel in the awful noise they made, and swallowed the anger with a harsh breath.

“Why don't you fucking ask Yumi?” I glowered, “Leave me the fuck alone, Dunbar.”

I turned, desperate to just get away to some quiet part of the woods. Hell I wouldn't even mind finding myself at the creepy Hermitage. Worst comes to worst I could always use the passage to the sewers to slip away unnoticed if William tried to follow me there. Although leading William to one of our places was probably not a good idea, it was still something I could turn to as a last resort.

William's hand clamped onto my shoulder and spun me around. I jerked, trying to shrug his grasp off.

[pic – another punch to reese's face]

“Yeah, motherfucker,” William panted, “That one was for Yumi. And so will be the next one. You're not going anywhere.”

[pic – blazing anger]

For Yumi?! Really?! Yumi can and had protected herself against me multiple times without a second thought! She won our fucking sparring match, she won my training session, she kneed me straight in the balls, she fucking pressed me up against a couch and choked me, who the fuck did William think he was defending?! Yumi wasn't even here, and if she was, god, I could just hear her voice, loud with anger and disgust! I was sure of it—but even if I was wrong, I knew that Yumi wouldn't ever want someone else to rally and fight her battles for her. Gurgles turned to growls and I stared William down. Anger blazed in me, but I still didn't really want to fight.

Funny, that. I didn't want to fight.

Once upon a time I wouldn't have hesitated to come at William fists swinging, in the name of Yumi's honor, for my own pride, whatever the reason. But here, now, even though William threw the first punch, all I wanted to do was fucking leave, still.

Actually, maybe it was because William threw the first punch that I didn't want to fight. Or maybe I just didn't want to be a part of this anymore than I already accidentally had. Fuck, I wasn't trying to be a part of anything! Shit! Leave me alone! Leave me the fuck alone!!

[pic – another punch and reese goes swinging backwards]

“Man, you're a pansy motherfucker, I would've thought you'd at least do something. Jesus, what are you trying to prove? The whole school knows what you are, so why even try to hide it?”

I cupped my hands over my nose as hot blood spilled out. There had been a hard crack as William's knuckles smashed into my face. I tried not to cry out to save some shreds of dignity and ending up choking on blood going the opposite direction of my nostrils. Breathing loud and harsh, seething hot air through my teeth to work through the pain, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on anything but William as he spoke.

“How'd you do it, Scarface?” he asked, squatting down to taunt me, “How'd you get her on her knees? A soon-to-be former ex-boyfriend would like to know.”

[pic – you broke my beautiful nose]

Three strikes and you're out, Dunbar.

[pic – reese socks william in the gut]

You wanna keep using the metaphor to get Yumi on her knees, you heartless fuck?

[pic – fight club cringes]

I was on my knees first.

[pic – williams def takin a beating now]

I was pinned to the ground on my back first. And Yumi decided to get on her knees instead of push me down further.

William's yelp was cut off as my elbow slammed into his cheek. I followed up with two punches right in the sweet spot my elbow made. He tried to fight back in the only way he knew how; brawling and swinging without discipline. Even if he managed to hit me it was like he was hitting a brick wall; the dragon had been taunted into retaliating, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to backpedal and explain his mistake. Blood and spit flew between the two of us as we fought, a goddamn mess in the middle of the woods. This would all hurt in the morning, but for the time being the only thing I could feel was the righteous anger as I pushed William back.

Some part of me was surprised that I didn't enjoy it the way I thought I would.

There wasn't anything but instinct, some sort of animal way of trying to fend off a predator. I wanted him gone—out of my goddamn life. Not dead just gone. Send him off to a different country for four years or more, I certainly wouldn't miss him.

The thought suddenly made me sick and sullen. Wishing, actually wishing that on someone. Just for thinking it, I should've let William get a few free punches in. I slammed William against a tree, fists twisted into his jacket as I glared at him. He coughed, I spat out blood. Regaining himself, William began to kick and snarl at me. My glare became a stare, and the sullen feeling seeped into my bones, replacing the adrenaline. I didn't want to be there. I was so, so done.

[pic – totally not gay]

“I would've thought...,” I rasped, deep, “I would've thought you'd be the better man for her.”

It made sense in my head. Even back when I was Ulrich, blinded by jealousy. Jealous because William seemed so perfect next to me. Tall, dark, handsome, had a network of friends outside of Kadic that he did things with, cool, suave, knew how to talk to girls...He had his fuck-up moments, sure. There is no way in hell Yumi would ever see past him figuring that she was just like any other girl, but those were mistakes that could be fixed, unlike my mistakes. William was perfect, with a perfect life, probably with a perfect future. Just enough bad boy to be alluring with an (annoying) idea of what was the right way and the wrong way the world worked. A go-getter. Of course he'd always be the first to confess his feelings, and I was afraid that Yumi would just go for him simply because he would do everything right—according to his plan anyways.

I would've thought Yumi would've wanted that. I would've thought he'd be the better man if only because he'd at the very least try to be her man. At least try to be with her, stay with her and comfort her like I couldn't, wouldn't, because I was too stupid and insecure to face potential failure. I was scared of her, William wasn't—ergo, William was better.

“Better what?” he barked. I loosened my grip on his jacket. His eyes grew wide for a second, then he dropped his jaw open.

“Holy shit...you actually like her?!” William exclaimed, his voice screaming victory even though I had beaten him, “Holy shit. Holy shit. Are you fucking serious? You?!”

Hunching my shoulders in a lame attempt to hide myself in the collar of my jacket, I tried to skulk away. William's voice, interspersed with cruel laughter, only grew louder the farther I got.

“Really? I can't fucking believe it. You? Do you think she'd ever go after you?! Yumi fucking Scarface, that'll be the day you'll never see! You're fucked up, Anders! You're so fucked up the scars don't even do it justice!”

[pic – ouch...]

“Keep walking, Scarface! And if you ever go near her again the newspaper will love to hear about what you did to her!”

[pic – walkin']

I didn't even do anything this time...

I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, but my feet certainly had an idea of where I should be. My face throbbed, swollen and hot. Blood was slowly coagulating, becoming sludge in my nose and around my busted lip. Breathing through my mouth as I walked, I alternated squeezing my eyes shut too harshly and blinking rapidly to force the pain into the background. I tried not to think about what William said.

Tried.

There was something weirdly appealing about one of my eyes swelling shut. Rather, I wished that both my eyes would swell shut so I'd stumble around the city blind for a while. Close off some senses, just...just exist in the lowest form possible. The lower the life form, the less processed thought it had, right?

I didn't...I didn't even do anything this time.

That's what I kept wailing to myself, but the wail was quiet, almost inaudible. In a way I didn't believe it, because if I thought hard enough I could think of all the ways it was my fault. There were so, so many, after all.

Yumi fucking Scarface. I wanted to vomit at the thought. After what had happened? To think that Yumi could ever see me in such a light was stupid, not hopeful. And as for me, looking at her...I felt dirty. The kind of dirty you can't wash off of clothes. A bruise you don't remember getting but now it hurts like hell and you won't be able to get rid of it. Something had viscerally changed. I could name it if I wanted to, but, fuck that. To have her reciprocate my feelings—I wouldn't wish that on her in a million years.

And if you ever go near her again the newspaper will love to hear about what you did to her! I knew what William thought I did to her, and the worst thing about that thought was the knowledge I could do that. Easily. Even if Yumi defended herself and fought me off, the hideous taste of what was intended to happen would stay with her forever. That was easy to know. The real question was, would she fight against the rumor? Did she even know that this was possibly one of the rumors running around? (Considering William's mouth, if it wasn't a rumor before, it'd be a rumor now...) No, stupid; the realer question was would I even care...? Do I care?

I guess it's not like I thought too far ahead into my future enough to really contemplate my reputation outside of...this. Whatever the hell this was.

You're so fucked up the scars don't even do it justice!

[pic – periwinkle's]

It was hard to believe in justice in the first place.

My feet approached Periwinkle's front door, my mind following them complacently. I reached up behind the old porchlight, fishing the key out of the metal latticework. Technically I wasn't supposed to be here this late, but to jump a little too far from that simple thought, I wasn't supposed to be a lot of things. I briefly wondered if this would count as breaking and entering, or if Periwinkle would even file it as such, but that thought was in the background as my hands turned the key and the satisfying sound of an old, heavy lock clicking comforted my ears. I opened the door and stepped inside. Autopilot.

The foyer was dark. I didn't quite know what time it was, but for sure Vivi was supposed to be in bed, and if Vivi was in bed Periwinkle wasn't far behind. The old woman didn't do much outside of the orphanage, which was both a blessing and a curse. I was going through the careful motions to gently shut the door behind me when I smelled smoke.

Cigarette smoke.

Something was off.

As the door shut I blinked my one working eye rapidly. Down the hall a singular lamplight from the living room shone through the archway. I must've not noticed it right away due to the black eye. I took in a breath, sliding my feet forward on the old rug that ran down the hallway. The pounding in my chest resulted in a resurgence of heat and pain in all of my bruises. As I moved, ever so steadily, I tried to think of what to do. Should I say something, ask if anyone's there? Should I turn around and phone the police, without even knowing what was going on?

I swallowed blood and saliva, and crept forward. The arrhythmic creaking of a rocking chair was the only indication that someone was still alive, still moving. Pausing just before my face hit the warm light, I gathered whatever courage I had and peeked into the archway.

[pic – periwinkle's thousand yard stare and a cigarette]

“Mrs...Mrs. Periwinkle?” I breathed. The only acknowledgment I got was a blink; she still stared out past the lamplight into the dark window panes. Tapping cigarette ashes into a dusty tray, she drew in a lungful of smoke and let it release over a long period of time. Normally there should've been a sense of relaxation to breathing that deeply, but nothing about her changed.

I stood, filling the archway with my shoulders and beaten face. She still didn't look at me.

“Did you ever wonder why I let you near her?” Periwinkle broke the silence. Her voice was raggedy, making me feel her age for the first time since I ever heard it. I stood, quiet, letting the old woman speak. The question didn't exactly catch me off-guard, but it was not something I was prepared to hear. Of course I had wondered, but I tried to not let wondering get in the way of what I had been given. Given. A rock formed in my throat. Vivi. Where was she.

Periwinkle tapped the cigarette again even though there were barely any new ashes since the last time she tapped it, “Every other time she would run away the person who brought her back would bring her back in tears, screaming. The girl didn't know where she wanted to be, all she knew was that either option was something she didn't want. Then you come along, and suddenly she doesn't want to leave you.

“It was a risk. You could easily break her arm, hold her down; throw her in the woods near Kadic injured and alone. God knows why you were walking around the city that day when you live in a boarding school. Perhaps your after-school activities were less than favorable. I called Kadic Academy about you. Did you know that?”

I stared at her, busted lips pressed together. No. No I didn't.

“A gruff man answered the phone, said he was substituting for a sick secretary. He told me the other students didn't like you, but you hadn't yet done anything of note for detention or otherwise. I let you come back. And you did. You kept coming back. Week after week. Loyal, even when you had no reason to be. I told you to not come here after dark, to leave before evening. Yet here you are.”

My throat throbbed and my head swam. Shit. It was after dark. Was this her ritual, after Vivi had been put to bed? Stay up in the late evening hours, seeing if I would come around and let myself in for whatever fucking nightmarish reason she could dream up? I pressed my hand against the archway, fingers trying to dig into the drywall as I opened my mouth to protest. First William, now Periwinkle—first Yumi, now Vivi. I didn't really mean to come here tonight, didn't mean to intrude or hurt Vivi, I was just—I was just lost, just look at my fucking face, I don't have a place to go! Anything, anything to make Periwinkle believe that I wasn't trying to hurt her! I swear, I swear I'm good!

A sound left my throat, and Periwinkle kept talking as though I wasn't struggling to say something.

“What a curiosity that you chose tonight...,”

The old woman still hadn't looked at me this entire time. I sucked in a painful breath, waiting for her to bring the hammer down on my head. She took a long drag of the cigarette, snuffed it out, lit another one. I glanced at the tray, finally realizing that the corpses of three cigarettes laid there.

I didn't even fucking know Periwinkle smoked.

“Vivian's mother came back.”

A freezing hand closed on my chest and the only vision I had blurred, readying for the news that this was it, Vivi was gone, someone had come and taken her and I hadn't been there and I didn't know and she was just fucking gone.

“Were you to show the slightest sign of harming that girl I could've had you tied up so tightly you'd never see the sun the same way again. Her mother—for example—I will not let her near a child again.”

I couldn't listen to her. The icy hand tugged at my heart and I instinctively cocked my head towards the second floor, where Vivi was supposed to be resting. Vivi. Vivi Vivi Vivi. She had to be there, she had to be safe, I had to check up on her! I started into the room, hellbent on racing through and up the stairs, tearing the bedroom door off the hinges if I had to just to make sure she was there, she was safe. Periwinkle hadn't mentioned where she was, and if she was gone, and if what I thought she was saying was true...

The old woman sighed and finally deflated from her rigid stance, mottled skin and rickety bones struggling to find comfort in her failing body. The hot blood in my veins stopped to let me take her in, her weary oldness that betrayed her constant facade of a crotchety hardass.

“Mrs. Periwinkle...?” I said again, slowing to a creep. Her eyes were shut in pain, physical or emotional I couldn't tell.

[pic – kneeling in front of her]

When she opened her eyes they focused on me, grayed and thick from their previous, unknown color. I couldn't tell what she was feeling, if she was okay, if there was something she was holding back from telling me.

“I am old, and I cannot do this anymore.”

I glanced just behind the old woman to where the staircase inevitably was. Keeping my mouth shut but feeling my throat tremble, I looked back to her, trying not to overthink.

Periwinkle regarded me, actually regarded me for a moment. Still she didn't seem to notice or care about the puffy bruises and blood that had already dropped in globs on her carpet. She blinked.

“Vivian—Vivi is upstairs.”

Relief washed through in a heavy hot breath that seemed to take part of the pain with it and I moved to stand up and leave that exact moment. Something stopped me, though, and even though I had turned to face the hall to the staircase like a compass pointing cardinal north I couldn't move any further. Vivi was upstairs. Vivi wasn't going anywhere—and if she was going to run away again she would have already done so. Inhaling, exhaling, I looked back to Periwinkle. She had not moved, even to watch me leave.

Curiosity overcame me and I knelt down in front of her again.

Her chair continued to creak with no steady rhythm. The cigarette that was barely halfway done was snuffed, and without a second thought she lit another as though she hadn't just wasted half of one. She did not take a drag, simply let it burn over the ashtray, tucked into her knobby knuckles. Smacking her parchment lips together, she began to speak again.

“She was the last. She had to be the last. I don't care for children like I used to. I cook. I clean. The roof stays over their head. And that's all I do.”

There was a matter-of-factness in her voice that I was used to hearing, but what I wasn't used to was the pain. If all of the pain I was feeling in that moment, the blood, the bruises, the broken fucking nose, was ground into a paste and put into a pill, a bottle of those pills would equal what I was hearing from Periwinkle in that moment. The harsh vault doors had opened, and all I saw was a frail, overworked woman receding into her worn rocking chair. She laid her head back against the faded cushion of the chair and sighed.

“I'm too old,” tears clouded her voice, “And that child knows it. And I know it. She needs to go, because I can't care for her the way she needs to be cared for. I don't love her. I can't love her. I'm in pain every day and I know I can't keep this up. I've known for a while. Then you came along...,”

Periwinkle stopped rocking and righted herself to see me again, “And you were everything I couldn't do. Alone, I bet you couldn't tell a toilet from a sink,” she snorted, yet I didn't take offense as she became soft and pained again, “Alone, I wouldn't help Vivian—Vivi, from one year to the next.”

Periwinkle sank. It was strange, to hear herself correcting Vivi's name to what she wanted to be called, what I and everyone else should call her. Normally the old woman didn't give a shit, didn't even pretend to. I continued to gaze at her in strange awe. She still didn't give a shit, not out of strictness or cruelty but because she fucking couldn't.

Couldn't give a shit about Vivi like I couldn't give a shit about myself.

Yet she still cooked and clothed Vivi, she still sat here as a sentry against unwanted and dangerous people. Dangerous like Vivi's mother? I found myself looking at the staircase again.

“Go.” Periwinkle muttered after a while, “I haven't heard her make a peep since her mother came two hours ago.”

I stared at her. After a while I gave her a small dip of my chin in respect. Periwinkle's loose wrinkled face scoffed at me, dismissing it. I stood up to go to Vivi's room. Once I passed out of her vision Periwinkle finally brought attention to my beaten face.

“You look like hell beat you to the ground. But I suppose when kids have the misfortune of having hell find them over and over again they eventually find each other,” she grunted, “Vivi does not know that was her mother. You'd do yourself many favors by keeping that a secret from her.”

My shoulders blocked the light in the archway as I moved into the hallway and up the creaky stairs. Second door to the left. I hesitated, my hand dwarfing the ancient knob. A glob of blood hung at the rim of my nostril. I sucked it up, shuddering as it hit the back of my throat and slid down, cold and slimy. Steeling myself and swallowing, I shut my eyes before opening the door.

“Vivs?” I called, cautious. The room was dark. Faint light from the street struggled to break from behind the curtains. The sheets of the bed Vivi liked to sleep in were rumpled and empty. There was no way to tell if she had simply refused to make the bed that morning (a common occurrence) or she had clambered out in a crazed rush to hide. I crept into the room, keeping it dark.

“Vivi, are you here?” I stood in the middle of so many empty beds, nothing answering me. Each window was closed; nothing indicated that she had run away again. Somehow that was less reassuring than it should have been. I would not have blamed her for running; in fact I almost wish she had.

[pic - check under the bed]

Nothing. I sat back on my heels and let out a low, hurt breath.

The closet door creaked. I turned my head. For sure it had been shut before, but now it was slightly ajar. Standing up, I quietly walked over and pulled it further open.

[pic - there she is]

[pic - relief and pain]

Oh god.

I squatted, bent knees pushing the threshold. For a while I was quiet, though not because I was unsure of which phrase from the list of false comforts I should pull out of my ass to say. This kid damn well knew it was all bullshit. Moreso I didn’t say anything because I knew I shouldn’t, knew I had no reason to pull her out of her sanctuary so soon. My chest hurt, burned as I gazed at her in what was probably compassion.

“I’m here."

Soft. Assured. Definite. Kind. How the fuck could someone like me say something like this, in this way?

"I’m here.”

Vivi turned, curling her legs even further into her stomach, looking at me expectantly. I had figured she would scoot aside to make room for me, but it seemed she barely wanted to move in her catatonic state. Carefully, I crawled over her to the other side, nestling between the wall and her small body. The hand-me-down, donated clothes that hung from hangars were too small to even brush the top of my head. I tried to relax, tried to ignore the dull throb of pain in my face coupled with that horrible sinking emotion. The one where I knew I had done all I could, and it had all still gone to shit. Such absolute shit.

Vivi nudged into my side. Ignoring how sore I was, I forced my muscles to try and be a cushion for her. Anything, anything to make up for it.

She nudged me again. I swallowed a gasp of pain and looked down.

[pic – a really shit plush]

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. She offered it...whatever it was, to me.

[pic – a really SHITTY plush]

“Did you make this, Vivs?”

I more felt than saw her nod.

“Periwinkle help you?”

Another nod. I considered it for a moment.

“This is...this is kind of amazing, Vivs.”

“It's yours,” she croaked.

[pic – you what]

“Mine?”

Vivi shifted, unsettled, “For the sweater.”

Oh. Oh...

I wrapped my beaten hands around the lump of fabric and stuffing. Making a quick mental note to ask Aelita what the best way to clean blood out of fabric was, I inhaled, stuttering on breaths. The swelling and bruises around my face became a dam of tears that I had to keep at bay. Vivi already knew that things were bad, she didn't need me to break now when she needed me.

“Thank you, Vivs,” I earnestly whispered. Tucking the plush into the curve between my stomach and my hip, I reached my arms around her and pulled her close.

“There's a woman who yells. All she does is yell. Mrs. P gets angry but she doesn't yell.” Vivi finally began, face buried in the canvas of my jacket. I squeezed lightly, remaining quiet for her, “Sometimes I want to listen but I already know what she wants. Mrs. P tells me to go to my room and not come out when she's here.”

“How...,” I rubbed her shoulder, “How often does this happen?”

Vivi shrugged, “Dunno.”

Quiet. She shifted uncomfortably and hid the lower half of her chin in her knees, making her next words mumbled.

“She always comes back.” Lost and unsure, Vivi stared, catatonic, at the dark corner of the closet opposite us as her small hands kneaded her pants, “Always...,”

Quiet again. It was hard trying to figure out if it was the kind of quiet that needed to be so, or if she was waiting for me to break it for her. On one hand, the quiet had a soothing effect. After such violent incidents, the both of us were finding (a little bit unexpected) solace in the cozily enclosed space. But at the same time, keeping what happened in the dark felt...wrong somehow. Maybe not wrong, but something that could potentially erupt later in horrible ways if left unchecked and unspoken.

Not that I really wanted to tell a six-year-old girl about what had just happened to me. Sure she could see it, even hear the winces through my teeth and blood-clogged sniffles every so often. I mean. I could tell her. Tell her anything and everything. Some part of me wanted to, not because of any ill-intentioned desire to traumatize her, but more like I wanted her to be a confidant. Someone I could tell and teach everything to, watching her grow under my guiding hand. Or something.

But she was six. I was seventeen. I had a duty to not overfill her with knowledge she shouldn't have, had a duty to not treat her like an equal, because she wasn't. I loved her, I think. Yeah, I loved her like a sister, and I wanted to protect her from everything and show her everything at the same time. But I couldn't do either, not to the fullest, at any rate, no. No. Protecting her from everything would alienate and constrict her. Showing her everything would force her to grow up too fast.

I already knew what it was like to grow up too fast. I couldn't do that to her. I wouldn't.

For the moment she didn't ask about the blood and the bruises. She accepted the scars as if they were an intrinsic part of me—like I wouldn't be me without them, but in the most innocent way possible. I guess it could be called blind acceptance, but that seemed too harsh and derogatory a term. She didn't want me to be different towards her, and I wasn't going to be. I was going to be Reese.

The questions would come eventually. And until then I was just gonna be Reese.

[pic – siblings]

“Are you scared?” I asked her. Vivi straightened up and puffed her chest out, trying to make her voice strong but it was still wavering.

“I'm not afraid of anything!” she boasted, but quickly deflated into my side, “I'm not scared...,”

She swallowed air and dug further into me, willfully ignoring my involuntary wince of pain for the sake of her own comfort. I didn't care, clutching the plush closer to me.

“I just...don't want her to see me. I don't wanna go with her. I don't want what she wants,” Whether or not Vivi could articulate reasons beyond 'because I don't want it' was something I left up to question. I shifted my arm, allowing her to burrow further if she needed to despite the pain.

“What do you want, Vivs?” I asked, soft and open. It didn't take long for her to come up with an answer.

“Wanna go to school. Go to school and have friends, like you.” Well, friends was such a complicated term for me, especially right now, but I could see what she was saying. She wanted an expanded life. She wanted what she liked to think I had; freedom, friendship, security, an easily destined future. Something simply different than...than knowing that she needed to be adopted and it was taking too long, different than knowing there were people that wanted her that she knew she didn't want in her life.

She was absolutely scared. She had every reason to be.

“I know you're not afraid of anything,” I murmured, “I'm not either. But...,”

Vivi adjusted her position, perking her head up to hear me better.

“I think I'm scared.”

She stared at me, the wheels in her head furiously turning to calculate what I said into something she could understand and accept. An encroaching wave of frustration twisted her small face and she gripped my jacket and plowed her face into me. I let out the strangest, strangled cough of pain, akin to some obscure bird call that catches hikers off-guard. Of course she didn't seem to care, and to be honest, yes it hurt, but I didn't either.

“No you're not,” Vivi protested, “You just said, you're not afraid of nothing and you're not!!”

“Urgh,” I failed to fight off the wheeze in my voice, “I think...what I mean is I can't be afraid. Gotta keep going, even though I don't even know how I'm gonna get from point A to point B. D'you understand?”

“No!”

That was more a refusal to understand than whether or not she actually did, but whatever.

“I'm afraid of a lot of things,” I confessed as she continued to worm her way against me, causing me to squirm and wince and push the words out in between shrill gasps and spitting too-hot saliva, “But they're things I should be afraid of, like—like m-monsters,”

“Mrs. P says monsters don't exist!” Vivi continued, extremely indignant. For a moment I saw her (through blurry vision) pull her head up and glare at me, right before burying herself again. (Thank god the closet wall was at my back because I'm sure she would've flattened me into a fetal position. Against me: William, 0; Vivi, 1.) From the depths of my jacket I heard a confused, possibly betrayed sob. Yeah, this was too painful on several levels. I tried to pull Vivi away from my side to get a firm but gentle grip on her shoulder, but she shoved my hand away. I persisted, she shoved me away again. Pressing my palm flat against the wall, I heaved deep breaths to try and regain myself and blink the spots away from whatever vision I had left.

“No,” I had to breathe through my teeth as she clamped down her hands like a vice on my side, “No, monsters exist. They just...don't look like you think they do.”

Finally she released me, at least partially, and looked up again, still somewhat hurt and absolutely baffled by what I was trying to say (really I didn't know what I was saying either) but ultimately too curious for her own good. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders again, I let out a garbled sigh of relief when she didn't push me away and began to speak.

“They look like...you and me. And Aelita. And Odd. And Mrs. P. They look just like us, some way or another. And to some people, they aren't monsters, not at all, but to others, they...are.”

[pic – memories]

“Some way or another...,”

Vivi adjusted herself, sliding her legs out so her feet stuck out from the door frame of the closet and rested against me in a much less aggressive way, her round eyes turned up towards me in growing wonder. I hadn't realized I paused until I shook my aching head. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, talking to her so candidly like this. It was a possibility that I was developing a concussion—at the very least I could fall back on that if I came to regret this later.

“Listen, I...,” Memories kept flooding me, memories of twisted emotions—fear, disgust, anger, and a continuous yearning to flee. I looked down at Vivi, meeting her eyes. Inadvertently I smiled. Couldn't help it. It was probably for the best, too.

“You got a good gut on you,” I poked at her sides, and she squealed, biting her lip to try and stifle her giggles. She tried to furrow her brow to look at me disapprovingly—tried. I simply poked her again, gently. Spittle flew from her mouth in her failed attempts to stop the giggles before they happened. My smile grew wider as my voice softened more, “Listen to what your gut says. It says you're hungry, then eat something. It says you're tired, then go to sleep. It says you're scared...then be scared. And get out, run away from what's making you scared if you can.”

“I'm not—,” Vivi sputtered, but fell silent and guiltily stared across my chest to the darker corners of the closet. The canvas of my jacket wrung in her small hands as she turned the confusing words around in her head until she finally whispered, “I just don't wanna be scared...,”

“It's okay to be scared, Vivs. If I can be, then you can be too.” I whispered, trying to sound strong. Big tears, glistening in whatever light they could squander, rolled down her round cheeks and dripped off the bottom of her chin.

“What're we supposed to do, then?”

I brushed a thumb over her wet cheek, wiping a tear away and resting my head against the wall. The best my face could do for a smile struggled to show as I gazed down at her. Actively ignoring the hollowness digging deeper in my gut, I felt a tired warmth seep into my chest and I closed my eyes.

“Get up tomorrow, I guess. And the day after that. You know. Keep going. Run if you have to.”

“Are we running?”

Despite how badly my ribs ached, I leaned down and kissed the top of her head before pulling her under the protection of my injured bulk.

“I think we're trying to.”

Vivi was quiet, kneading my jacket like a cat for comfort.

“G'night, Reese.”

“Yeah. G'night, Vivs.”

I love you.

[pic – them sleeping in a pile in the closet]

//////////

((Cannot seem to find if I ever sketched this out but Ch20's cover concept was Jeremie's glasses underwater beneath a XANA storm above the factory))

Chapter 20: Perfection in Pride

“Well, you won't take the advice I want to give, so in the meantime, why don't you just avoid William like the plague?”

“Gee,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, “Thanks. Will do. I totally wasn't planning on that.”

“Don't lie,” Aelita glanced up in her mirror, looking at my reflection in a fairly stern manner, “You were planning on clocking him the first chance you got.”

“Yeah!” I retorted, as though I hadn't just sarcastically implied I didn't want to do that, “Before he clocked me out first!”

I scoffed, loud and clear for her to hear, but I glanced down at her plush blanket poking between my fingers as I sat on her bed. Wait. There was something I was distinctly missing, and if I didn't bring it up Aelita would let it slip away like it was my own damn fault. (Well, it would be, but, whatever.)

“Wait. What was your advice, then?”

“Oh? Well if you're actually considering on taking it, then be my guest!” Aelita grinned at me in a way that was wholly unsettling before her smile dropped along with her voice into something far more serious than I was prepared for, “Tell Yumi.”

The plush blanket was about to become a lot less plush by the time I was done choking it.

“What? No. Fuck no. Why the fuck would I do that? What? What?!”

“I don't know,”

[pic – aelita standing up to face him, she's getting dressy for something]

“You two just seem so close as of late, after all,”

I stuck my lower lip out in a disgruntled pout, making sure that Aelita knew it was directed entirely at her and her actions even though she was the only other person in her room. Chagrined, and not exactly able to hide it in front of Aelita, I leaned back and tried to seem casually arrogant.

“What, you jealous or something?”

Aelita traced arcs on the floor with her socked feet as she approached me, her voice comically sultry, “Oh no, Reese, I know you'd never cheat on me. You know I'm such a good kisser!”

[pic – snrk]

I snorted, the both of our acts dropping immediately with short but genuine bouts of laughter. I laid back onto her bed, arms stretched out, as she turned around and continued rummaging around her drawers for accessories.

“Man,” I slapped a hand to my face and dragged it down, “Apparently I'm a good kisser too, y'know.”

“You? With what practice?” Aelita shot as she snapped punk-ish bracelets on. I snorted again, but instead of laughter it became a pained, embarrassed wail.

“Okay, I don't know about now—but, jeez, you weren't even on earth for a lot of this,”

Aelita was nothing but fire and sass today, and it took her all of nanoseconds to respond, “Oh, sorry to hear that coming to earth cockblocked you to this day.”

“Yeah, you keep stealing all the girls,” I shot back, kicking lazily towards her. She snorted too, but it was a little reserved even though she was smiling, “No, okay—ugh, I had to...bargain a lot. To um. Get Sissi to do things for us. Like uh, get Yumi out of detention.”

“Wait, alright,” Aelita paused in the middle of brushing her hair, turning towards me again, “I know you bargained with Sissi, but kissing her? With the way she was back then?”

“It was my only option!” I protested, “We ran out of time and I had to think fast! It was just down payment, I didn't want to date her for two months and have to pretend to do that all the time!”

Aelita raised an eyebrow, still fucking with me, “Alright, Casanova.”

Back to brushing her hair. I grumbled to myself, unfortunately recalling that exact month of being dragged along to places I didn't want to be with people I didn't want to be with. Movies I didn't want to see. Sissi's elbows always dug into my side when we held hands at the theater, and I could never tell if it was because she didn't know how to be tender or if it was because she was constantly reminding me that I was on thin ice and I had to pretend to enjoy myself. Man, and I thought pretending to smile hurt back then. Look at me now.

Anyways, both during and after that Sissi started trying to find excuses and 'accidents' to get me to kiss (read: smash lips together) her in the most roundabout ways possible. She tried to coax me once, saying that my lips were soft and sweet and that it really felt like I knew what I was doing. That, unsurprisingly, still haunts me even though she meant it as a compliment. As far as I'm concerned, I put nothing into kissing her unless I really wanted something out of it, like getting Yumi out of detention. Thinking back on that, it was creepy. It was creepy then, it was creepy now—and considering that I only had Sissi's words to go on, I guess I didn't really know if I was a good kisser or not, because it's not like I was going to believe her for a second.

“Hey,” I asked, resting one leg on the other's knee and folding my hands behind my head. I counted patterns in the ceiling, feeling lazy for the first time in a while, “What did you mean by 'with the way she was back then'?”

Aelita was quiet again, and it felt like it was the same quiet that cut her laugh into a snort when I joked that she had been stealing girls. Keeping focused on the ceiling but losing my count on the patterns, I listened intently as Aelita kept brushing and styling her hair.

“Well...you remember how she bullied me when I first got to Kadic,” she started slowly. I shrugged, assuring her that I did. She ran her brush through exactly five more times before she continued, “After you left it got particularly bad for maybe two months. She was devastated, and she took it out on us, as if we weren't also hurting. But because we were on the same floor, and at the time our rooms were right next to each other...I got the brunt of it. I had to start twisting my schedule; sometimes I'd wake up an hour early so I wouldn't see her in the showers that morning, sometimes I'd take the risk in being late to class or skip breakfast all together to miss her. Even when she calmed down and started to ignore more than antagonize, I kept avoiding her. At that point I had gotten used to it, so there was no harm in keeping it up. I must've been doing it for close to a year, and one day...I woke up early and I felt weird. Something different, and not good different. I stumbled into the shower late, so I was there the same time Sissi was.

“I remember getting in the shower and turning the water on. The next thing I knew I was in the infirmary, wrapped in towels. They told me I had a seizure, I hit my head, that a doctor was on the way to talk to me, figure out if it was an indication of something more. The start of problems, in other words.”

She set her brush down, staring at it like it was a mirror instead, “When they finally released me, and the others escorted me upstairs, and once I was alone in my room, I heard a knock. It was Sissi. She was the one who heard me fall in the shower. She dragged me out, while other girls froze in terror. She wrapped me in towels and told the others to get help. I asked her why.”

I sat back up, staring at the profile of Aelita's face.

“She snapped 'I don't know' and slammed my door shut. But she didn't say anything to me after that, even when I cautiously let myself be around her more. About a year ago, I was starting to realize that what Jeremie felt for me and what I felt for him were two different things. And I was trying to figure out why I wasn't able to see what he always talked about with literally anyone. One day I heard Sissi crying in her room so I knocked on her door. She was crying over being rejected, or maybe she broke up with her boyfriend; it was really hard to understand her. But at some point she hit her pillow and screamed that she wished she didn't like boys anymore. Before I could stop myself, I said 'oh'. You know the kind...the oh where you involuntarily say too much. Sissi stopped, and we stared at each other. Like she had just realized she had let me in. I started to get scared, because all I had done beforehand was google that 'why don't I like boys' you teased me about, and I didn't know what to make of the results—after all, they all had scary stories of coming out. I didn't want to think that was me.”

[pic - ...]

“We didn't say a word, but Sissi seemed calm and opened her door for me to leave. She hasn't...said anything since, not pertaining to that. She doesn't look at me weird when there's another girl at my door, but—,”

“But if it's a guy at your door, she makes a big fuss,” I finished for her, “Believe me, I know.”

Aelita smiled, a little pained, but it was clear that her pain was in the process of healing, “I think I hate that I tricked you into fake-dating me, sometimes. Like, it wasn't fair, you didn't know.”

“Yeah well,” I scratched the back of my neck, ruffling the end tufts of my hair, and grimaced, “It's not like I don't know what it feels like to trick people, huh. Besides, I don't really care that you did. I'm alright.”

Aelita still didn't look back at me, her voice darkened and sad, “Alright that I'm stealing all the girls?”

[pic – hey whoa]

“Whoa, hey now, that was a joke, I didn't mean—,”

“I know, I know. I just...have no one to talk to about this.”

[pic – aelita in foreground reese in bg]

Oh. Right. I felt guilty that I hadn't realized that sooner. Even if Sissi did know, and there's no evidence to support that she really did, I felt weird about anyone confiding in her over—literally anything. She might have changed for Aelita and everyone else in the group, but all I remember were her dirty tricks, betrayals, and bullying. It would be best to play it safe, close to the chest.

Funny that I qualified as close to Aelita's chest.

“So...which girls, exactly, have you been stealing?”

[pic – REESE I SWEAR TO GOD]

“Reese! Shut up!! Let's see you talk this big on Lyoko, you two-bit sonic boom!”

I heard every word over my laughter, and each word just made me laugh more. Aelita pulled the pillow she used as a cushion for the back of her chair out from behind her and flung it at me. It did nothing to stop me, but I did welcome it and propped it up behind my back as I leaned back against the wall. Watching her struggle to glare in frustration at me, I crossed my arms and smiled.

“Oh, that's right, you love me too much to be stealing girls.”

“You are really testing that love right now, Mr. Anders,” she huffed, ignoring me as she fixed her hair until she was satisfied. Picking at her nails for a bit and staring at them as if she could change the color she had applied an hour ago, she stood up and began crossing her room, pulling boots out from the back of her closet (perhaps hand-me-downs from Yumi) and flipping through what little she had for jackets and vests.

“But...no, to answer your question,” Aelita quietly said all of the sudden as she pulled out a short, bleached denim vest. A few studs had been jarred loose. She sat on the floor, crossing her legs, and began to fix them as she spoke, “No, there haven't been any girls.”

I cocked my head to the side, “Really? Wasn't that Emily in your room last winter?”

“Well, yes.” Aelita then yelped and shook her hand, sucking on a few fingers that had been pricked and pinched by the back of the stud she was fixing, “Yes, that was her. I have a thing for glasses.”

“Do tell.” I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands. Aelita smirked with a glance up at me as if to say of course Jeremie left her with something to be attracted to.

“It's just that...no one stays. That's all.”

My smirk dropped to quiet concern as I watched Aelita bend the spokes of the studs back into place, her fingers red and sore. She lightly shook the vest, then laid it out flat, smoothing the studs and looking forlorn.

“Whether they're all just 'experimenting', or they don't know who they are yet, or they're too scared, or it was all fake to begin with—no one stays.”

“Princess...,”

Aelita bit her lip, hard, until I couldn't see the color anymore. At the very least she hadn't applied lipstick yet, if she was even going to. But even though she was biting it I could see that she was quivering from her chin to her brow, her cheeks flushing red and her eyes watering as she tried not to sniffle.

“A-All it really boils down to is no one wants to stay. If they even could like me like that, they don't like me enough to try to stay.”

I opened my mouth to call her princess again, but nothing came out. Anything I could've said I realized she would have already thought of. Clenching my jaw, swallowing, and unclenching, I stared at my friend, barely able to keep it together with her shaking shoulders.

I had always been used to people pursuing me, I never gave any thought that it wasn't normal. Like, sure, I barely even thought about many of the girls who had schoolyard crushes on me (I didn't want to think, and at times it was a complete nuisance, I just wanted to be alone and I didn't reciprocate what they felt or thought they felt) but in my case it had always been a constant. Moving back to Germany did something to quell it, since I became the weird quiet kid with no friends that warranted a bubble of space around me. But I had almost never been actively searching for reciprocated feelings. They were just always going to be there if I decided to accept them—like I briefly did with Emily, far before Aelita came to earth.

But here, even if Aelita and another girl kissed, there was no guarantee of reciprocation. And here, I had no idea what that felt like. All I could do was look at the way my friend's face contorted like it was made of ash.

No one ever stayed. Not for her.

And I was the only one to know about this.

I slid down from her bed to the floor, placing a hand over the studs she had just fixed so she would look up at me.

“I know it's not what you're looking for, Princess,” I assured her lowly, “But, I stayed. Even after you tricked me or whatever.”

[pic – small aelita smile]

“The others are also here for you too, you know,” I said gently, knowing that it still didn't mean she would tell secrets to them.

“And...that's what I'm afraid of, in a sense,” Aelita shrugged, swallowing, “I mean, the others stay too, you're right. But you know very well that I'm driving them insane with this—you and me. Especially Jeremie. I wasn't expecting it, but all this fake-dating you and I have been doing forced some of Jeremie's...colors out into the air, you know?”

She sighed, slipping the denim vest onto her shoulders. As she stood up I moved back up to the bed, watching her.

“Right now, he's...banking his decisions and actions on the idea that if you just weren't here, he'd still have a chance with me. He may be incredibly immature and stupid about it, but in his mind I'm still a possibility, right?”

I was afraid to answer, but I did so.

“If this is how he acts when I'm taken...imagine what he would do if he found out he never and no longer has a chance.”

Fuck.

“There's...there is a slight chance that he might lighten up, once he knew,” I spoke past the lump in my throat, made of the same ash that her facial expression was made of.

“Do I want to take that chance...?”

I took my time thinking about it, weighing the options first from Aelita's view, then from Jeremie's, and finally from my own. If it went badly, would the group split? If so of course I would be on Aelita's side, and if so the brief confrontation in the factory when I pushed Jeremie against the wall would turn into a daily all-out war. Splitting the group was the last thing we needed when our common enemy would always really be XANA, drama or no drama between us. For fuck's sake, just the simple act of letting me into the group split it down the middle enough; Odd and Aelita with me, Yumi and Jeremie more or less against me, even now.

Then I thought about all the time and nights I would spend with Aelita, more likely than not watching the back of her head as she sobbed and screamed into her pillows. I thought about the words she'd spew, calling Jeremie an idiot but moreso damning herself for being the reason for the civil war in the first place. Maybe Jeremie wouldn't do anything physically dangerous or harmful to her. Maybe.

But the fact that we had to have this conversation was harm enough.

I finally answered, “I wouldn't. This...isn't important for him to know. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

“Fuck...,” Aelita swore, then pressed the back of her hand to one eye, catching bubbling tears, “I used to be able to talk about anything and everything with him. With any of you.”

Stab. Twist. And it wasn't even me she was talking about.

Her phone buzzed. She leaned over her desk, picking it up and reading it without retracting. A small sigh that was disgusted but nowhere near the emotional intensity of the conversation we were just having left her, and she straightened up, replying.

“Christophe broke his collarbone body-surfing over the weekend, so he needs help setting up tonight—but apparently Jim doesn't know half of what he's talking about, so I guess I have to leave earlier than planned,” Aelita inhaled, recollecting herself, and made last-minute adjustments in the mirror.

“You look fine,” I tried to provide as she fussed. She didn't glance back as she pulled simple lipstick out.

“Shut up,” she retorted, “I will be the judge of when I look the way I want to look.”

“Oh-kay,” I gave in, standing up since she was going to be leaving soon. Aelita kept staring at herself.

“Going back to your room?” she asked.

“Dunno. Do you want me at the concert?”

She sighed, “Up to you. It's not like it's homecoming or prom or something. Just a three day weekend.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Odd is out on a date with Sam at the movies, Yumi is taking the time off to spend with her family, and Jeremie is being Jeremie. You sure?”

“Yes,” Aelita said flatly as she smacked her lips, “I'm sure. You do what you want—it just means that I let my friends do what they want to do, so if Jeremie wants to refuse to come to my concerts time and time again because he thinks it's a waste of time better spent throwing feathers at a brick wall to fight XANA, then so be it.”

“Has...has he ever come to one of your concerts?”

Aelita capped the lipstick and put it away, “No.”

[pic – ready for the show]

“He can't just say he's lonely, he always has to have an excuse of needing help with something or other. And he always makes a point to ask me about it when he knows I want to do the concert if there are no obvious interruptions, setting himself up for disappointment. Then, of course, he complains I've changed too much. To me, it'd be a nice change to see him at the concert but...That's fine. He does what he wants. And I do what I want.”

[pic – reese blocking her from the door]

“Just a sec,” I stopped her. She looked at me, expectantly. I took a thumb and brushed an eyelash from her cheek. Then I smirked, looking at the pained but staunchly independent person she had become. She was a long way from Lyoko, and by missing her growing up I got to appreciate how far she had come in my absence. I let her through into the hallway with a comical bow that she certainly didn't miss. Throwing my arm over her shoulder after she locked the door, I walked her to the stairs, still smirking.

“Sure you changed, but you're still a princess, no matter what Jeremie does.”

Aelita smirked back with a small chuckle, “See, this is why you're still him to me.”

“Hey now...,”

Aelita reached up and eased her hand around my shoulder, tilting her head into me, “You were the first to call me princess and you still call me princess.”

“Tch. Fine.” I accepted.

[pic – the two of them]

“Good luck out there, princess. Maybe I'll swing by,” I called down the stairs after stopping at the boys' dormitory floor. Aelita paused, her hands still on the railing as she turned to smile up at me.

“I'd like that.”

I waved and retreated back into my room.

It was a hard choice. Odd was out for the evening, leaving me with some actual peace and quiet in my own room. But then, Aelita was DJ-ing for the concert, or at least half the concert, trading off with Christophe whenever she needed lest she accidentally induced a seizure. Pills could only do so much after all. If anything it just showed how much she was absolutely determined to keep doing what she liked doing, no matter who said what about anything.

Just ten minutes of rest, then. I didn't have anything particularly great to wear to the concert, but that wouldn't stop me from showing up anyways. Ten minutes.

[pic – jeremie SMASH]

I forgot that ten minutes was fifty in Jeremie-time.

“The absolute fuck, four-eyes?!” I snapped, “I—what the fuck?!”

“Where's Odd?!” Jeremie demanded, the only regards he gave me. Pitching myself up on my elbow, I dug a pinky into my ear. I'm sure it would ring for a bit, since the door slammed open right next to my head.

“He's out at a fuckin' movie with his girlfriend, why the hell do you want to know?” I kept the comment that Jeremie should've known from the get-go to myself.

“He's not answering his phone and there's a XANA attack!”

I grumbled, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, grumpy despite the emergency, “Yeah no shit, he's at a movie theater.”

Jeremie huffed indignant and impatient, “I promised Yumi I would let her have the weekend!! She's been needing one for ages, I just can't call her instead!”

I squinted at him.

“Aelita literally just left early for her concert to help set up and probably hasn't even done anything yet.”

It was like flicking a light switch. Jeremie became rigid and pale with repressed anger, clenching his jaw and swallowing hard. Leaning forward and giving him an even more scrutinizing gaze than before, I raised my eyebrows to encourage him to speak his fucking mind.

“No.” he replied, curt and dark, “She's busy.”

If I really wanted to, I could've laid into him then—calling him every name in my book of swears, shouted things that I knew would deeply deeply hurt him since I used to know him so well; I could've really stuck a knife in his gut and watched him stare at me, dumb. But instead I opted for the other route, and smirked like a bastard.

“Well, guess that just leaves you with me, huh, four-eyes?”

He tightened his lips to a tight purse, a tell-tale sign that he was absolutely furious. But he held back his words and snapped his agreement. Apparently no matter how bad I was to him, it was not nearly as bad as Aelita.

Not that I didn't believe Aelita when she told me, but seeing his resentment first-hand was a little...staggering.

Einstein was too silent as he marched and led me through the woods and the sewers. Not once did he look back in my direction or hesitate as if he was contemplating to pick Aelita up along the way. Not once did he answer any of my innocuous questions—what's the attack, what is XANA doing, are you sure we can handle this on our own? Nope. Nothing.

Absolute silence.

That's what that feels like, huh.

XANA worked fast. By the time we reached the bridge the sky was dark and the clouds thick, moving with wind that blew my jacket horizontal as we approached the bridge of the factory. Part of me wanted to grab Jeremie's shoulder, lest his weak ass get shot off across the country. Instead I trudged forward, keeping my feet firm and planted as I stepped ahead of him to block the wind from his frame. Water from the river crashed and swirled, threatening to reach up and swallow us whole. An undercurrent from that would be a death trap for sure.

[pic – looking back]

“Should I hazard a guess this is XANA's doing, or is that too obvious?” I called back over the roaring wind as if he was a hundred paces away instead of just two steps. Jeremie, still struggling even though I was blocking half the wind, somehow managed to glower at me before gripping his glasses to ensure they didn't fly off and tried to push forward.

[pic – the bridge gets struck by lightning and crumbles]

[pic – jeremie falls away]

“Jeremie!”

[pic – no choice but to go in after him]

Even if it had been the smoothest dive in the world, hitting the water was like hitting a brick wall. Immediately I was shoved to the side more like a conveyor belt than a river, the current unwrapping my limbs and pinwheeling me forward. Fuck it hurt like hell, but I didn't have time to muse. If Jeremie had hit anything on the way down, or if a piece of the bridge had hit him, he was fucking dead. Boom. Just like that. He wouldn't even be awake to drown.

The water wasn't exactly clean to start with, and the harsh currents billowed up silt from the bottom making visibility poor. Goggles would've hardly helped. Coupled with the dark sky above, I had no choice but to stay under and pray I could find him.

[pic – water hazards make the tensest of scenes]

No. Shit. There was no way. Not without going deeper, into the point of no return. I flipped around.

Shit.

[pic - surfacing]

Shit.

I swam with the current, angling myself to scrape against the concrete embankment until my stupid hands caught onto the broken slab, slicing my fingers open. Unable to feel the pain from the sheer cold of the water and the panic in my chest, I pulled myself on shore, panting, heaving, ignoring the bright red flowing out of my hands. Pulling my sopping ass onto level ground, I turned and looked frantically at the chaotic water, lips shivering. Barely able to form words.

“Jer...J-Jer...,”

No. No. Just like that?! Just fucking like that?! After everything we had all been through, here or there, every close call, just to crash down all on a fucking split-second?!

“Jere...Jeremie...?”

All this for nothing?

No, there had to be something I could do, something else. There was always another way, Jeremie always believed so. I don't know what it would do, but I was already preparing myself to get up and fucking run as fast as I could to the factory to launch a return trip, activated tower be damned. Doing so couldn't have been as bad as having it happen with a clone still active.

But I was on the far, far side of the factory. The lab and everything else was under the main hall, and I wasn't even sure there was a way to get there from here. Surely not a time-efficient way, at that. No. No...

I stared at the shifting water, eyes blurring up.

What would I tell the others? Sorry, he just fucking fell in the river and died? Nothing I could do? Just let the guy who considered me his rival, no big deal!

Belpois.

Stern.

My foot slipped, rolling my leg to the side and making me feel pathetic. The more I sat there the less time I had to do anything about it, but then there was nothing to do about it. Gone. Just like that.

Cough.

[pic – Reese perks the fuck up]

Coughing. A choke and a gasp for air cut short by more choking and coughing. I scrambled to my feet, slipped on the wet concrete, ignored the scrape and started running. There, gripping a partially submerged drainage pipe, was a soaked blonde head of hair. Jeremie threw his head back against the current, desperate to keep it above water and try to breathe. My eyes widened as water crashed against his head and lapped up into his mouth despite his best efforts, and I slid down making sure to keep a death grip on the embankment.

[pic – grab him by the hair]

Jeremie wouldn't let go of the drainage pipe but his half-choked throat made it very clear that perhaps yanking on his hair wasn't the most comfortable of ways to rescue him. But I couldn't afford to care. Knowing XANA, the water would keep rising and the storm would worsen so long as he had one of us on death row. I glanced down the river at the destroyed bridge, wondering if the others had realized what was going on by now and were on their way.

“Jeremie, come on, you gotta get up!” I shouted over the roaring water. Jeremie coughed and spat, shaking his head in my grasp. There were several incredibly pathetic attempts at speaking before he finally managed to blurt, fully indignant and voice cracking.

“I'm stuck!”

Fucking...Of course.

“Stuck,” I said, incredulous, “Stuck how.”

Jeremie stuttered, struggling to fix it without my help, “M-My leg...,”

“Alright,” I looked at the monstrous torrent around the drainage pipe that must've been kicking Jer around mercilessly, “Alright, shit.”

Slipping my feet along the concrete in hesitation, I tried to calculate how to wrench him free. Jeremie continued to cough and sputter, blind both from his lack of glasses and the murky water. How much did he swallow, how much pushed its way up his nostrils? How long would his strength last? Fuck it. There was no easy way to do this.

Taking care to secure my arm around the drainage pipe, I fell back into the water opposite of Jeremie. The river was colder than I remembered and I gave a cry of shock. Shock? Well if we didn't drown maybe we'd die of that instead. Thanks, XANA. I reached down, floundering until I felt Jeremie's shoe. To my dismay his leg was definitely stuck, but it was stuck beyond his foot—past his ankle to the lower portion of his shin.

“How the fuck,” I griped, trying to pull his shoe off. Jeremie didn't answer; I wasn't even sure he really heard me. Fine. Work now, complain later. The shoe came off and I let it be carried away by the current. Sucking in a breath, I ducked into the water to push against the flat of his foot. It wouldn't budge. Resurfacing, I gasped and looked across at him.

“Jer, Four-eyes, can you hear me?”

He coughed and spat water, “I lost my glasses, I'm not four-eyes. And don't—,” wave of water, choking fit, “Don't call me Jer.”

“Fuck off, Four-eyed Jer,” I snapped, “Also, this is gonna hurt.”

Jeremie redoubled his grip on the pipe despite my rampant desire to do exactly the opposite of what he wanted, lifting himself to try and visualize what was going on, glasses or no. Sniffing in neither approval nor disgust as I curled my leg, I took in a breath of preparation. Ducked into the water to line it up properly. Released.

I kick hard, no matter if it's out of or in the water. Jeremie's leg barely had a chance, jarred loose by the force of the kick. He screamed bloody murder, and I'm sure the roaring sound of water and storm drowned out a resonating crack from the bones in his leg. Water rushed into his mouth as he screamed, silencing him as his eyelids frantically fluttered and he slid limply into the river.

[pic – catching him]

I pulled him snug against me and kicked against the current to help bring the both of us to shore. Jeremie flailed, having clearly been shocked back to life as every time his mouth came above water he pierced my ears with screams of pain. Didn't matter that the river would inevitably fill his mouth to quiet him for my sake, he still screamed when he could. I would've loved to have called him a crybaby were it not for his one leg not kicking like the other. There was no way it wasn't broken—maybe even shattered. I grit my teeth and dug my fingers back into the concrete embankment, pulling us both flush against it. Summoning the last of my strength from the adrenaline that was quickly fading due to the icy water, I pushed Jer through the last of the current and up onto the concrete. He looked like an absolute drowned rat, and a fairly upset one at that. Uh. No hard feelings about breaking your fucking leg, right, Jer?

Out of nowhere, once the water was only to his waist, he started struggling against me with his puny arms. Scowling, I pushed harder to get him out faster, thus causing him to seethe through his teeth as he scraped against the embankment. Yeah, yeah, you hate me, whatever, I just saved your ass so just—

“I can do it myself!!” he screeched, swatting at my hands with more fervor than before now that everything but his legs were ashore. His nails clipped the skin of my arm, and that combined with his screech made me let go in shock, watching with wide dumbfounded eyes as he dragged his weak body onto the patches of grass beyond the concrete. Realizing I looked like an idiot, I hardened my expression and pulled myself up after him while he nursed his broken leg.

[pic – dang that really hurts there huh eh]

He was crying. I'm not sure if it was just because of his leg, either.

Deciding to let him have some semblance of decency, I looked out to the storming river, rain finally falling from the swollen, angry clouds. Neither of us cared much, already soaked and shivering to oblivion. Jeremie tried to hide the fact that he was crying, but there were cold sniffles and there were crying sniffles, and I knew the difference pretty damn well.

“You're welcome, by the way,” I said once I determined he had had his moment of privacy. Jeremie scowled, the expression looking painfully comical on his face.

“I can swim just fine. I didn't need your help!” He spat. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah you were swimming just perfectly with your foot stuck.”

“You broke my leg!”

“I saved your fucking life! You're welcome!”

“If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to have had my life saved!”

I scoffed, waving my arms incredulously, “Oh, so, what, you're saying I struck the bridge with lightning?!”

“No! I'm saying we all would've gone to the factory and managed to get to Lyoko, together, and we wouldn't be fighting anything but XANA, which is how it should be!”

“Sure, yeah,” I sneered, “And then all four of you would've wound up in the river and for sure someone would've actually died.”

Scoffing again, I stretched my legs out to reach the edge of the concrete, which the water was quickly rising to meet, “But I do agree with you on one thing. If XANA's such a bigass problem, then yeah, that should be the only thing you're fighting.”

Jeremie mimicked my sneer, “Are you dense? Trying to be wise like that?! You're the problem! If you were gone, everything would be back to normal!”

Normal?

Right now, he's...banking his decisions and actions on the idea that if you just weren't here, he'd still have a chance with me. He may be incredibly immature and stupid about it, but in his mind I'm still a possibility, right?

If this is how he acts when I'm taken...imagine what he would do if he found out he never and no longer has a chance.

Do I want to take that chance...?

Or what Jeremie thought was normal?

My face darkened, and eye-rolling was replaced with threatening glares. Too bad Jeremie's vision was so fucked he couldn't see the intensity—which probably was a good thing, but I wanted him to feel how angry and disappointed I was with him. To the point where I could feel heat in my hands as my fingers curled inwards into fists to match the guttural darkness of my voice.

“Normal, huh,” I glowered, “Guess she wasn't the kind of normal you thought she was.”

“I know everything about her!” Jeremie was quick to defend, “Or I did, until you! Why she went with you, I'll never understand—and people agreed with me, until Aelita had a seizure and you helped her in front of everyone!”

“Uh,” I twisted my mouth, failing to see the relevance, “Fucking anyone would've helped her?”

[pic – JEREMIE YELL]

“I'm not just anyone!! I told you I could've saved myself and I would've! I'm a good swimmer!”

“Jer, you are not making any goddamn sense. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

His legs shifted like he wanted to stand up and tower over me to prove his point, but he quickly remembered that one of them was broken, so he had to settle for sitting in a pathetic puddle of muck-water and rain, pretending he wasn't adding tears to the mix.

“Her head! Her seizures! She fell into the pool during class and I had to save her!!”

[pic – a bad memory]

The seizure at the pool. I furrowed my brow in concentration, cocking one upwards after a moment and regarding Jeremie eye-to-eye.

“Alright. She mentioned that, but if it's so damn heroic of you why don't—,”

Oh.

Jeremie's wrecked expression said it all as it dawned on me. A return trip had to be launched. No one remembered his heroism, and when they went back in time Aelita was prepared and didn't fall into the pool unexpectedly. And since it happened in class, Jim would've been the one to tend to her and would've pushed other students away—which didn't happen the first time around because Jeremie was used to acting on his feet.

“Four-eyes...,” Despite the bullying nickname my voice had softened in sympathy, although not exactly losing the darkness behind it, “None of that was my fucking fault.”

Jeremie breathed through his teeth, bits of saliva and rainwater spitting out in time to his rising and falling shoulders, “It wasn't until you came here.”

“Again, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“Do you want me to just tell you why you screw everything up, or do you need it in chronological order and in list form?!” Jeremie snapped.

[pic – ugh for real]

“Oh, please.” I said, monotonous to Jeremie's obliviousness, “I'm so unaware.”

He opened his mouth as though he was going to start telling me all the ways I was fucked up, but the tone of my voice finally hit him and he shut it, glaring at me the best he could with his nearsightedness. Crossing his arms like a sulking child would, he turned away, pushing his lower lip out. I assume that it wasn't supposed to look comical, that it was supposed to be taken more seriously than it looked, but, y'know. Maybe I was just more of an asshole than I thought.

“If you're so aware why don't you do anything to fix it?”

“I don't know,” I mimicked him by pushing out my lower lip even though he couldn't see, my gaze sharp as Aelita still hung in my mind, “If you know everything about Aelita, why don't you fix any of the problems you have with her?”

Jeremie whipped his head back around, “That's none of your business—!”

His sentence ended with a small gckt of shock as I grabbed his shirt and whipped him far more forward than he was planning on. Face-to-face, I could see his eyes focus and him shudder in fear as I finally became clear to him. Not finding the need to bare my teeth, my voice came out smooth like the steel of a sword. Dark, cutting deep.

“Aelita's my girlfriend, fucker. If you have problems with her, you make it my business.”

I had no idea where any of that came from, why it came out so easily, or how I could create that tone of voice. It was one of those things where you don't realize your heart's racing until everything is said and done and things feel marginally safe again. An action drawn out of righteous fury that you can't control but it drove you to do the right thing as if it was simply instinctual. Jeremie froze in my grasp and I held him like that, breathing through my nose like brimstone smoke was curling out of my nostrils. It had truly been the first time any of my original friends had seen anything remotely resembling any sort of protectiveness over Aelita when she wasn't around—Odd included. Hell, I vaguely remembered telling Odd we weren't dating, just to avoid the subject so I wouldn't have to defend us together. This, however—this was a different matter.

Jeremie moved, more akin to a twitching cricket than a human being, and gulped before he finally gathered the courage to speak, “S-She's the one who has problems with m—,”

“You've got two options,” I continued, my tongue still steel, “Either you think of a way to rephrase that, or you tell me in detail what her problems are with you.”

He went silent, trying to contemplate. I was through being patient and tightened my grip on him until he made a pathetic little sound. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened. Closed it in a wet squiggly line that pulled towards the ground. Eyes pulling from me and dropping to the puddles of water in the grass, Jeremie bit his lip. Thought kept him from doing much else, and I watched his gaze slowly go down to his broken leg, then to the encroaching river, and finally to the far shore. He sniffed—crying again. I loosened my grip, regaining some patience. If I wasn't careful I would simply be intimidating the answers I wanted to hear out of him. That would put him in a position I'd been in far too many times to feel comfortable at the thought of inflicting that on someone else. Suddenly wary, I let him go completely. His ass sat back on the soaked ground with an almost inaudible plop.

[pic – staring out]

There were a few times where it looked like he was going to talk, where his face contorted in anger like he had found a fallacy in what I was forcing him to do. But after more thought it soon evaporated and he went back to simply staring out. Rephrasing his words into a different sentence was easy, but Jeremie had a penchant for taking the harder route. Plus, listing all of Aelita's grievances against him should've been working in his favor.

But every time he opened his mouth, it shut again. Rain continued to pour, turning into sheets. Soon we'd have to be yelling to be heard, so I kept my eyes on his mouth, counting the times he tried to speak but never did. Waiting.

“...No,” Jeremie mumbled after a while, ducking his chin down to his soaked shirt, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”

“You're goddamn right it doesn't,” I grumbled, “And trust me, the more you make it matter the more it hurts Aelita,”

“I'm not trying to hurt her,” Jeremie protested, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, “I've only ever tried to help her!”

“See, that's the difference between you and me, Jeremie,” using his full name made him flinch like he had been bitten by a horsefly, “I don't make fucking excuses when I hurt people.”

“You're wrong. The difference between us is you want to hurt people.”

“Sure,” I rectified, “That means I know when and how I hurt them, instead of telling them that I'm only trying to help and nothing else.”

I knew we were already freezing, but Jeremie considerably blanched at my words. My voice was soft, dangerous with the knowledge that I was correct, “Sound familiar?”

Jeremie dropped his face into his knees and over the rain I could barely hear him retort, “What do you know?”

“Apparently I know Aelita more than you do, now.” I brought my gavel down much more gently than I thought I would. I didn't have to be harsh to be so direct, because the pain I was causing—pain without harm—was clear to see in front of me as Jeremie squirmed, looking up at me with his blonde hair plastered over one eye and pouting lip collecting rainwater and tears alike. He tried to retort, fight against it, but he couldn't. He could only stare, with his blurry, practically useless vision.

“I-I just...,” he tried to protest, jamming a clumsy thumb into the corner of his eye to wipe tears away to be replaced with raindrops, “I wish she'd talk to me...,”

“Maybe you could try listening,” I answered gruffly. Jeremie's hand dropped into the muck, completely defeated. Everything that I had forced him to think about was raging behind his porcelain-still features. Fragility was Jeremie's claim to fame, I just wished it was only physical fragility instead of emotional fragility.

“I j-just...,” his voice was barely a whisper above the storm, “I want things to be the way they were...before all this happened. Happier. And not...Not this,” Jeremie pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, folded into a loose fetal position, “Whatever this is, I want it to stop.”

Staring at him, I found my own vision crossed and blurred as if I was subconsciously trying to see where the boy had come from. See that scrappy nerd leading me through the sewers on a madman's expedition to an abandoned factory, see him turn to me to make sure I was still there, his chin scraping against a sweater his mom surely bought for him that he was scuffing up by being in such derelict places. See the boy that eagerly showed me Aelita's face for the first time on the monitor of a computer straight from science fiction. See the boy whose only goal was to get the girl out and shut the evil down.

Perhaps he had twisted himself in some way, but there must've still been that boy alive inside of him somewhere. I could barely see it, and I'm sure Aelita saw it too. That's what made her hurt so much, seeing him become this puppet of his former self. Fanatical over her, fanatical over his role in XANA's defeat, real world be damned. Real world be damned for him and whoever was in his crusade.

Good intentions pave the road to hell, huh.

I stood up.

“You want this to stop? Then do something about it. This XANA of yours attacks, you put a stop to it, right? Because if you do nothing, nothing will change.”

[pic – offering his hand]

“So? Wanna go save the world?”

Jeremie looked at my hand, then up at me, skeptical, “And? You're not really the inspirational type, what's in it for you, why even tag along?”

I gave the hardest glance at his broken leg that I know he couldn't really make out, and looked back at him, smirking, “C'mon, Four-eyes, what if you get attacked by a hairdryer and I'm not around? Not being able to walk aside, I wouldn't want to miss that for the world.”

He gave me a long, unbroken stare. Some rusty old wheels were turning in his mind, way in the back of it. Wheels he hadn't given a turn in quite some time. My smirk grew as I saw him trying to work out why what I said was making him think harder than usual. Strange to have a weird phrase blast you from the past, isn't it, Belpois?

He blinked, shaking his head. It didn't seem like he had come to the correct conclusion, or what I had said was too much of a coincidence to be a direct quote of something I said to him years ago, right before he showed me the factory—if he even remembered it as where that had come from anyways.

[pic – take my hand if you want to live]

[pic – slinging him around the shoulder]

It took some doing, walking Jeremie around the embankment looking for an entrance into the factory. He had studied the maps before, sure, but they rarely if ever came to this area. The longer we searched, the higher the river got. Finally we found a small staircase leading upwards and to a door that had long since been bolted and rusted shut. Setting Jeremie down on a stair, I kicked the filthy glass of a window until it shattered, nearly losing my balance in the process. I crawled in first, dropping to the floor and opening my arms to catch Jeremie. After a small threat that I would just drop him if he didn't hurry his ass up, Jeremie dragged himself over the ledge and ungracefully flopped over.

“Right, now what?” I asked, slinging him around my shoulder again.

“You're gonna have to be my eyes,” Jeremie muttered, just as happy with that prospect as I was, “There's two ways to get over to the other side: above the river, or below it.”

On cue, a clap of thunder rippled its way over head, shaking shards free from the broken window. It echoed and reverberated in the factory, the ghost of abandoned machinery singing in response. I shuddered a little, water dripping from my skin as I did so.

“Call me a pessimist,” I grumbled as I located a rickety staircase leading down to the ground floor and looking for faded signs for an entrance to a basement, “But I don't wanna have lightning strike us twice and fall into the river again.” Jeremie looked for a moment like he was going to agree with me with a small smirk, but he quickly hid it and swallowed the urge. I shrugged him onto my shoulders better and trekked onwards, finding the tunnel we needed.

Unfocused eyes occasionally glanced up at the scar on my cheek. Occasionally became frequently, until Jeremie was staring at me. I glanced over once. Very impolite of you, Jer, I was starting to feel self-conscious; especially with the hairdryer comment I made earlier.

“Keep staring and I'll have to start calling you No-eyes,” I warned, echoing down the tunnel that was becoming pitch black. Jeremie took a moment, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I assumed it had been waterlogged, but he must have had a special case or modification, because when he pressed the home button it flickered to life. Well. Wasn't surprising that this wasn't the first time they'd been tossed into the water. Without bringing attention to it he turned the flashlight on, shining down the long, damp tunnel. Once that was done, he again looked up at me.

“Nothing,” he muttered, “Just starting to see why Aelita likes you,”

[pic – let jer's body hit the floor]

I looked down at Jeremie, the flashlight from his fallen phone blinding one of my eyes. Frowning until it was almost a scowl, I watched him hiss and scrabble to hold his broken leg. Gingerly massaging the muscle above the break, he breathed through his teeth. Once he had gotten his shit together and was probably able to listen I spoke.

“I'm not doing this so you have a better impression of me,” I growled, low and waiting for Jeremie to glance back up at me before I continued, “This isn't for you, either. It's for Aelita. And only Aelita.”

Jeremie frowned.

“Capiche?” I asked. He looked down and nursed his broken leg more.

“Capiche...,” he answered after a while.

“Good.” I reached down and helped him back on up onto his good foot. Black dust and bits of mold clung to his wet clothes from the floor, and he struggled to brush it off as I started moving without his consent. Hopping awkwardly to try and meet his pace, Jeremie eventually gave up and resumed his position as a flashlight.

Neither of us said more than necessary as we navigated the bowels of the factory, Jeremie giving directions and me figuring out that describing what I was seeing was a much more difficult task than I was prepared for. Maybe it was just because Jeremie was so meticulous and specific, but even though we had a few hiccups we made it work without blowing up at each other. Once we were out of the tunnel I could dimly hear it start to collapse, water pooling at our feet. No time to lose. Einstein guided me to the console room, having me shut the flood doors before leaving him for the scanners.

Joint deactivation.

Alright.

[pic – forest sector]

I can do this.

[pics – reese foiling but not destroying a chimera via a net of vines]

[pics – jeremie guiding reese on joint deactivation]

[pic – reese + code lyoko]

A return trip launched. I found myself in Aelita's room again. This time, she told me what happened at Kadic. Water had began to flood the gymnasium, causing electrical shortages and sparks everywhere. They had to stack whatever they could on stage and start feeding people up into the rafters, knocking down lights wherever they could in order to avoid as many shocks as possible. I was incredibly thankful I wasn't around for that. Extreme heights over electrified water sounded like a less fun time than usual. Nothing seemed very different from a normal attack, with the exception that Jeremie and I had managed to work together to deactivate the tower. Aelita smiled at that, small, reserved, but a genuine smile. I put my hands on her shoulders.

“Hey. It was for you more than him. I promise I gave him a piece of my mind.”

“God forbid,” her smile softened, “Imagine Jeremie trying to pull half the shit you pull.”

“He was already tryin' to,” I smirked, “I mean, until the real deal shut him up.”

“Don't get too full of yourself,” Aelita teased as she already texted Christophe that she was coming down to help before he could ask for it, “You're only able to pull this off with my help, and don't you forget it.”

Before she opened her door to leave I pulled her into a hug that no one was allowed to see, “You know I won't.”

Next stop, Jeremie's room.

Maybe it was strange for me to do so, but it's not like I forced Jeremie to do anything he wasn't going to do. All I did was show up at his door and stand in the doorway, crossing my arms and staring at him. The concert started in one hour. He didn't have to go.

But I was going. For Aelita more than myself. There wasn't going to be a brighter opportunity for Jeremie to show that maybe he was willing to promise something more to her than just his wishes. It wasn't a guarantee that he would change, in fact it wouldn't guarantee anything.

So long as it made Aelita happy, even for just a moment, it was worth it.

[pic – the concert]

[pic – jeremie standing a safe distance from reese]

“It's loud,” Jeremie complained in monotone, “There's too many people.”

“Nobody's asking you to like this,” I said, watching Aelita perform on stage. A smile was on her face, one that the others rarely saw. A smile of passion in creativity. Homeliness she could only find within herself. None of us were qualified to be able to bring it out of her, but there was no harm in cheering her on when it did. I looked over at Jeremie, wondering if I needed to elaborate in order to get it through his thick skull. Colorful lights from overhead danced on his glasses, but looking just behind the lenses I could see that he was mesmerized by Aelita's presence on stage.

He swallowed, and I imagined his pride going down with it.

With a small, jagged and stuttering nod, Jeremie turned around and left. There was no way to know just how much he understood, if he even understood any of it at all. But at least he had seen it. I turned back to where Aelita was still on stage even though her song was wrapping up. She had picked me out from the crowd and was beaming at me in a way I didn't know she could.

She had seen that Jeremie was there.

Barely giving Christophe a nod of acknowledgment as he took over for her even though he was wrapped up in a brace, Aelita bounded off stage, weaving her way to me. Her hands clasped my arms and her eyes shone from the strength of her smile.

“You stick out like a sore thumb here, you know that?” she shouted over the crowd. I tensed up, suddenly awkward.

“Aw c'mon, I came here to see you, not to dance,” I tried to squirm my way out of it, but Aelita was too high on the moment. Though she let me go, she laughed as though I was joking.

“Well, I'm here to dance—so can I ask you to a dance?”

“Uh—,” she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the thicket of people.

“Don't lie! I know you used to dance!” she laughed back at me.

Well. She wasn't wrong, as usual. No time like the present.

[pics – dancin!!!!!!]

Oblivious to anyone else, we ended the night with the stragglers of the party, pleasantly exhausted and picking up enough of the pieces so that there wouldn't be so much of a mess for tomorrow's crew to clean up. Aelita (gently) hugged Christophe good night, and we escorted each other back to the dorms, hushed from sleepiness but smiling all the same. It had been too long since I had felt and accepted dim, warm happiness like this. Hell, it had been so long that it was more like I didn't allow myself to feel this way. From the warm, proud look in Aelita's eyes from seeing me in such bliss, that was probably the right assumption to make. I ruffled her already unkempt hair for a good night, and retired to my dorm immediately, flopping onto my bed to pass out without even checking to see if Odd had made it back from his date with Sam or not.

It was good.

Waking up late the following vacation day was dream-like. The sun was warm but not hot, the breeze cool but not too strong, and the leaves were broad enough to cast mottled shadows in the sunshine. Despite how good the past day went, I had a need to avoid people. For once it wasn't even malicious or anti-social, I just felt tuckered out and I needed a day to rest—back in my forest where it wasn't night and it wasn't dark and I could just sit and doze undisturbed. Odd was halfway off his bed, face down and snoring from the poor position anyways—I was aching to get out and away and spend some time to recuperate in the fresh air.

I walked, mildly enchanted by the day and relieved that for once I was relaxed enough that I wasn't thinking about anything other than what was in front of me at that moment. Give it time, maybe an hour or two, and my thoughts would turn back on themselves, which meant that I had to savor the relief as much as possible.

Something too big to be a woodland creature scrambled and crashed through the undergrowth, struggling to stay on its feet. I swiveled on my heel, confused more than annoyed. I hadn't even gotten that far from the school grounds yet, I could still hear the sleepy buzzing of the courtyard if I strained my ears enough. In fact, it hadn't been too far away from where I had taken Vivi to talk with her soon after she ran to Kadic, crying and scared she wouldn't have a place to call home. (On the second rendition of the day, of course.)

The fact that that's what I recognized the place as became a sort of cruel irony as Vivi herself pulled her small body from the undergrowth. Blinking rapidly to clear the shock from my mind, I dropped to one knee, offering my hands for her to grasp and pull herself up, swinging her away from the courtyard if she was being pursued. Another crying spell? Why didn't she call first?

[pic – the kind of primal fear you only feel when you're in mortal danger :) ]

“Vivs—,”

WHUD.

My head exploded with pain and stars, lasting only the heavy seconds it took for me to crumble to the ground.

[pic – black]

#code lyoko #ulrich stern #iwry #reese anders #yumi ishiyama #aelita stones #aelita hopper #jeremie belpois #brewriting #god it's been forever #i legit thought chapter 20 wasn't even done #but that would be counterintuitive to how i wrote IWRY so #yeah you get two whole chapters. jesus....#i haven't touched this file since 2018

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

Note

Hi Kit!

First off, I've really admired your writing, Lavender is one of my favorite things I've ever read. I even made a Lavender friendship bracelet so I can have Lavender Joel with me whenever I want.

Second, I've been getting into writing FF lately, starting with a Jackson Joel story. I'm about 12K words in and I've been struggling a lot with thinking my writing isn't suitable for posting and a lot of self doubt. I was wondering if you have any tips you wish you had known before you started writing FF, or even how the heck do I find someone to be a beta reader? Do you have an editor or beta reader, is that something I even need?

Thanks Kit!

OMG Hi Bestie!

I'm so sorry it took me a bit to respond to this. I wanted to make sure I thought about it before replying. You are so so kind to say such lovely things! And a LAVENDER FRIENDSHIP BRACELET?? That's AMAZING! I love that this story meant so much to you that you want to carry it with you out in the world!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE that you're writing! Jackson Joel is so special, he's such a gorgeous character and I'm sure your writing is doing him justice in exploring these sides of him.

Self doubt is a BEAR, I tell you what. I'm riddled with it, personally! Every day I'm on this site or on AO3 and reading things that are better than what I write and I spend a LOT of time comparing my work to other people's in my head. It's part of why I don't really reread my own work, I think. I know I won't be as happy with it as I am with other people's writing and it'll just get me down. But... I share it anyway! It's hard sometimes, especially if a chapter feels really good or really personal, and I always have this underlying fear that "this is it, this is the chapter where everyone who reads my work wakes up and realizes that I'm shit, actually, and they decide to let me know it." But that's never happened.

Part of fic, for me, has been pulling me out of that shell creatively. I've written stories for years - decades! - and I can count on one hand the number of people who have read them before I started writing and sharing fic. These stories just live in my computer or in notebooks in my basement and that may be all they ever are. Overall, people are remarkably kind and supportive and it feels really, really good to share something I made with other people.

I think some things I wish I knew is 1) that the sharing part of writing can be a really fun - if anxiety inducing - part of the process and 2) negativity isn't the end of the world. While almost everyone has been insanely lovely (probably kinder than I deserve tbh) I have gotten a few negative comments and whatnot and yeah, they definitely sting. But ultimately, it's just one person's opinion. It doesn't change the satisfaction I felt writing these stories or the fulfillment I found in telling other people about these characters and the lives they're living inside my head. People can dislike what I made - you can't please everyone! - but it doesn't take away from how it felt to create and share it. I think, as long as you're telling stories because you want to explore those characters or themes or what have you, you'll be satisfied in it and readers will, too.

As far as beta readers and editors go.... I don't really use either one! My process is write the chapter, read it to make sure there isn't anything too egregious, share it. If I sit on it too long, I go back and rework and rewrite and it'll never see the light of day. But that's me! Everyone is different, I don't think any two people have the same process. And if you're interested in connecting with other writers and are comfortable, feel free to DM me! I'm happy to help and there are some Discords I'm in that have other, fabulously lovely writers who do things like beta for each other and give feedback on plot points and all kinds of beautiful collaboration that I'm so lucky to be a part of.

I do have some tips for editing, as a former copy editor, though! I recommend reading the chapter twice, once for overall story and flow (basically, does this chunk of the story make sense?) and then once for the nitty gritty stuff. Highly recommend the second read be done out loud, as silly as it might feel. It will force you to slow down so if you left a word out, you're less likely to gloss over it, or if a sentence doesn't make sense, you stumble over it and have to think it through again. Stuff still definitely slips through - it's bound to when you edit what you write! - but it's helpful.

Anyway, I hope this answers your question!! I really really hope you share your story with us. It's always great to see the community grow and give more people outlets to share their stories with us!!

Good luck, Bestie! Love you!!!

#fanfic #send asks #kit answers #writing

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brellhal96 · 3 years

Text

It’s... pretty complicated

Summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.

Okay the GIF is not very related to the subject, but this man dressed in black has me at his feet.

Notes: This is quite cliché actually, but what does it matter, it is worth dreaming. It is planned to be written in several chapters, so the first is mostly to give context to the story, I hope you like it.

I base myself on Loki's physique, although I will mention Tom Hiddleston as the star of the scene, but my perfect image is in the essence of Loki in a black suit.

I study a completely different area to numbers and physics, don't be rigorous with me on the subject, only I think it an excellent area to show Loki's personality, I do not know why.

I will show at the beginning of the series a somewhat possessive relationship, but with the outcome I promise to shape this. It should be noted that not in a toxic sense.

I didn't mention a specific university, country, or geographic location.ical location.

It's the first time I've written anything obscene, I hope you like it.

Precautions: 18+, mention of fear or anxiety, unprotected sex, a relationship at the beginning somewhat possessive.

CHAPTER 1

I NEVER SAID I WASN'T INTERESTED.

Notes: Okay this chapter is kind of weird honestly, I didn't really put so much emphasis on the obscene, but I feel like it ended up fine, I hope you like it.

Word count: 6389

You had gotten used to the hot weather of the beginning of the year, in fact you had always preferred that climate. You spent the summer with your parents on a beach, sometimes you missed them too much, but your father's job and the university of your dreams were right at the opposite ends of the country. The first year was quite complicated, but then you got used to living alone, you actually lived two blocks from campus so your bike was the perfect means of transportation.

You made some friends here, Jared had become your best friend, his bond of trust scared you a bit as you could tell him anything without fear, but it was quite comforting to have someone like that by your side.

You had earned a scholarship for academic excellence, your studies were your priority since you were a child and you loved that. The only unpleasant thing about this scholarship is that it restricted your choice of teachers in half of your subjects since you were supposed to be with “teachers of excellence”.

When you compared your subject strip to Jared and Diane, they only shared one class the three of them together, Diane another, and Jared two more. In the end you weren't going to be alone in all the classes so that calmed you a little, studying physics wasn't so complicated, it was easy for you, but socializing wasn't much for you.

You went to building C, your first class was analytical mechanics and later thermodynamics, the teacher in the second was assigned to you by the institute, a Doctor Hiddleston, you've never heard of him, you just hoped it wasn't a headache. Your mechanics teacher was a love and with the first class you knew it was going to be one of your favorite subjects.

When you finished you went to your other class, you sat right in the middle in the third row, several were in groups apparently with their friends from previous years. You took your computer and got ready to take notes. Suddenly the door closed tightly and everyone sat a little scared.

A very good-looking man came in, tall, thin and dressed completely in black, I honestly he caused you curiosity why for some reason you felt that you had seen him before.

Without seeing the class began to write on the board quickly "I am Professor Tom Hiddleston and I will teach the subject of Thermodynamics" His voice was strong and deep and you immediately recognized it. You frowned when you remembered last year's science fair, you won first place in the area of electromagnetism prototypes against a fourth-year kid, which made you feel completely proud, yet two of the judges had not been what we call nice to the two.

When you remembered Professor Hiddleston's deep look at you that day, the judges asked random questions to the fourth-year kid and you, but apparently your future thermodynamics teacher was one of those who enjoyed making students nervous with difficult questions. His sidekick on that occasion was your freshman professor, analytic geometry, Professor Scott Lawford a fucking genius, you had cried with his subject, but passed with an A +.

They both enjoyed seeing the nerves invading you and your opponent, whispering to each other with their answers. At one point Professor Hiddleston asked you and you remember perfectly well that when you finished speaking he only looked at you and smiled mockingly for then wrote something on his ballot. In the end you won by three points of the total vote and the fourth year boy, currently fifth, became your friend, both came to the same conclusion, the two teachers were crazy.

He began to write down on the board the evaluation and the issues that are always mentioned at the beginning of the year. For a moment you panicked when he wrote that one of the exams was oral, you could not imagine the martyrdom he would create just to get a passing grade.

He took 20 minutes to explain and let us out to start the next class with the course. When you came out unintentionally you stared at him while he was erasing the blackboard, but apparently your look was uncomfortable enough for him that for a second he turn and he stared at you, you rushed out of the classroom after that. When you told Jared about this future journey that you had to go through you felt immense despair, but then you remembered that, if you could the previous years with teachers equal or worse to him, this was only one step more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first three weeks of class were pretty normal, you made two more friends and breakfast in the cafeteria with Jared and Diane made you forget about the pressures of school, but just the moment you felt like you were fitting in perfectly with your new year, the thermodynamics class became strange.

The classes with Tom were very pleasant, he was kinder than his body language showed, only he was certainly of a very volatile character, there were days when he seemed angry and others when he seemed happy, it was weird, but it was even weirder that you were attracted to him.

Your previous class had lasted longer than expected and the teacher extended 5 minutes out of her time which translates into being late for thermodynamics. You panicked when you saw the locked door of the classroom, wondered if it was better not to enter the class and pretend a headache straight to the infirmary, but in the end you breathed for a second and you'd decided get ready to knock the door.

“Can I help you with something?"You had never noticed that he was quite tall, it was the first time you were quite close to him.

"Sorry my mechanics teacher accidentally spread...”

"You were able to leave her class to get to mine on time, don't you think?"His gaze was quite penetrating up close.

“I really sorry, won't happen again,” Your hands were shaking, but in reality, not for fear, but his presence so formal, so rigid and secure made you feel strangely attracted to him, when you thought that, you actually invaded the shame, how do you fall in love of a teacher as strange as him.

He just opened the door and walked aside to let you through. "I asked them to work in pairs, look for your partner and ask him to explain what I already explain”

On the board were written several formulas, you wondered how he managed in 7 minutes to score so much.

You asked several guys over there, but apparently the whole damn world already had a partner, in the end you decided to do it alone, you just hoped he wouldn't flunk you for it. A girl explained the instructions to you, apparently you had to pick up one of the sheets that the professor had placed on the desk and solve it with the formulas on the blackboard, you even had to sit up to the top rows because all the other seats were occupied.

You started cursing internally while taking one of the paper sheets from the desk. "Who are you going to work with?"The professor asked you without seeing you while making notes with a rather nice pen of Indian ink.

"I'll do it alone, I already asked ... ”

"Don't you understand what couples are?"He interrupted you and this time he gave you a rather intimidating gaze.

"Yes, but apparently all my companions already have one and I figured I could do it alone then" Your hands trembled again with the paper sheet between them.

"Who doesn't have a partner?"he looked back at his papers and yelled at the whole group. It was pretty funny for you because he himself proved you were right, no one was missing a partner. When he looked up and saw that no one answered he saw you again and then looked at the blackboard behind his back.

"Well, I'll do it with you then" He got up and brought a chair that was at the end of the living room for you right next to his desk.

For a moment you wanted to run out of there, you knew you shouldn't make a mistake or say something stupid because otherwise you'd die trying.

"Get your stuff and start working it out, just let me finish a few things. To be fair with your colleagues and with you I will let you do it alone and answer any doubts you have, because obviously I know how this is solved, but I also consider that it is a lot of work for one person, do you agree?" His gaze became a little kinder.

"Yes, thank you,” you smiled faintly, but felt an internal shock as he winked at you and continued to write with his fine pen. You sat right in the corner of his desk, they were just three problems but they really left you with little desire to live. The first one, you felt was quite easy to solve, even at one point you felt the professor's gaze on you when you were so focused on your operations.

"Don't you have any doubts?"His eyebrows were puckered and his gaze was no longer mocking but rather with bona fide interests.

"No, not really, well I go in the second exercise, possibly I do" You smiled as you watched your operations with inner pride.

"Can I see?"He extended his hand to give him the leaves you had carried until then. You gave them to him, just hoping he'd tell you you had everything terribly wrong.

As he watched your leaves you watched him, he was quite attractive now that you saw him without fear that he would not let you into class, his hair was dark and apparently a lover of black to wear, his eyes were cute and quite tender while they examined your answers.

"Go on, I don't want to confuse you” He put the paper sheets on the desk and saw you with a small smile on your lips as a sign that you were on the right track.

Just 10 minutes before the class ended you finished all three exercises, you had only asked him one question and it was about whether it was a 4 or a 9 in a formula that wrote the board, so you felt pretty happy that you did it alone.

"Ready" You smiled broadly, you were the first to finish and the only one who had done it alone.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah, well, I hope it's not a 0 at the end of the day,” you laughed to yourself, and in the end you wondered if you had thought about it or said it.

”Then let's see " took his pen and began to review your work. You froze when you saw that he framed something in your results, but he didn't tell you anything. "Well, I really didn't expect less from the winner of last year's science fair, maybe punctuality, but what does it matter”

You smiled when you saw that your grade was an A, only that he kept the papers, apparently he had to register them on his lists or something. Just as you were about to get up to leave, he asked you to stay at the end of class.

You sat back in the seats vacated by the peers that have already gone, but for a second, remembered what you said I didn't expected less from the winner of the science fair last year, he remembered you, you know that he remembered you, sonreíste for yourself when thinking that.

When the whole room was half empty, he started putting away his things. ”Come with me, " he said as he walked out with a firm and fast pace, so much so that you had to walk faster than normal. You wondered where they were going, it was pretty strange since you'd never been through the labs where it went.

“I've noticed that you're pretty good in the area, actually amazing, I even remember your answers about your prototype against the fourth year kid, former student of mine, you were much better than his” he opened the door of one of the labs and with his arm gave you a signal to enter.

“Thank you, I actually always dreamed of doing this, " you said as you walked into the lab, quite big, you assumed they were the ones that grad boys used.

"I want to propose you something” You sat at one of the practice tables and he leaned with both hands on his desk. "Would you like to work with me on a project I have?, is related to thermodynamics”

For a second you saw him with an expression of if he was joking with you or if he was serious and he seemed to read your mind.

"It's seriously, I'm working on a model related to the second law" he approached you sitting in the chair in front of yours.

"I would love to then, but I do not know how I could be of help”

"In many things" he smiled

For a moment you wondered why suddenly the man who seemed bitter about life was being so kind to you.

“You do not have to tell me your answer now, I will send you the files I have of my progress by mail if you like and you could think about it”

"Sure, I will" You smiled and he too, for a moment everything was silent, somewhat uncomfortable to be honest but his look no longer caused you fear, but somehow attracted you to him.

It was quite strange because they both got up at the same time so you were right next to him and his height difference was no small one.

"Well I think I have to go, I'll see you the next class”

"Wait, I wanted to give you something that I kept here," he went to the back cellar of the lab and came back with a bun that said first place. "I'm sorry, I was supposed to give it to you that day you won, but I honestly didn't remember where I left it, so this belongs to you.”

When you saw the bun with your name on it, you were very happy. "I thought they didn't give anything," you laughed as you put it in your backpack.

"Yeah, excuse me, I tend to be a little clueless about those things.”

"No problem," you smiled and shyly walked out of the room.

The weekend you started to question why Professor Hiddleston made you feel so nervous, now you knew that you were one of his star students, to the degree that you could be his future colleague, but why couldn't you even hold his gaze? you know, for a moment you thought about flatly refusing his project if you couldn't even see it in the eyes, but after you thought about it, you figured it would possibly be a good idea, you could even learn more things by being his apprentice.

It was Monday's class, you didn't know why, but you were in the lab on Friday, apparently you were doing an experiment on the tables with some microscopes on. ”You did it " There was Professor Hiddleston next to you, his command was on your waist and suddenly he began to approach you to kiss you on the lips and it was even stranger because it was quite nice for you, to reciprocate.

Right then you woke up, you're fucking in love with your thermodynamics professor, "Excellent Y / N, that's all that was missing."

Monday's class didn't even look him in the eye and you sat up to the top rows, you felt pretty uncomfortable with yourself thinking of a teacher that way.

"Y / N wait" Just when class ended you rushed to pack your things and run out of the classroom, but it still didn't work. "Did you think about what I told you?"The professor actually looked pretty excited about his own project.

"Yes, I just wondered if the meetings or the times we work could be on Fridays, that would make things a lot easier for me" You said without seeing the professor in the eyes, it was somewhat uncomfortable after that strange dream of the weekend.

"Sure, then it's a deal,” he held out his hand as if they were going to close the deal with a strong squeeze.

"Deal" You shook his hand and when you saw him you felt that his look was not only kind, but he was actually trying to tell you something.

The classes went on normally, you felt a little excited being sincere that you went to work with the professor who was now at the same time your impossible love, but you had to be careful for him not to notice. They agreed to meet after your last class at the lab on Fridays, at 15:00 hours. You knew it wasn't right, but from the moment you were attracted to the professor every time you saw him, you started using lip gloss and curling your hair.

For several weeks they worked on their project, now you understood their sudden mood swings, it was quite frustrating to feel that you had advanced in something and then realized that something did not fit with the rest of the procedure.

One Friday when you arrived he was making notes on the blackboard, had taken off his coat and tie and folded the sleeves of his shirt in a way that looked spectacularly attractive.

"Y / N pass," he smiled when he saw you in the driveway. "Did you read the documents I sent you?"On Wednesday he sent you a very interesting document about some theories related to the project.

"Yes, I just made some notes from some parts that I honestly didn't understand" You left your backpack in one of the buckets at the ends of the room " I'm not very good at some things”

"Neither do I, but don't worry,” he winked at you and you felt like you were melting internally.

For an hour they tried to solve one of the most difficult equations within the theory they chose, it was quite fun as sometimes you would collapse and sometimes he, but both tried to cheer up so as not to erase the whole slate of despair.

”Ready," you said when you finally managed to solve the equation.

”You did it!" saw the board quite surprised and so did you. "Your boyfriend is lucky" For a second he himself kept quiet knowing that the last thing he said wasn't quite right.

"Boyfriend? that species is extinct within my social radar" You laughed trying to keep him from feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He saw you trying to analyze your expression.

"Well sometimes the unconscious makes us a bad move" You smiled broadly "besides I guess the lucky one is his girlfriend" you returned the same move trying to tempt the ground.

"It's also an extinct species to me," he smiled, but he avoid your gaze.

"Well, then we're free to go looking for it.”

"I thought you had a boyfriend," he said as he started writing the equation on the board on the computer.

"Why?"you sat at the desk, watching him write on the computer quite nervous.

"Nothing else" You knew he was lying to you.

"Nothing else?”

"Well you're a very cute and smart girl, I figured a lot of guys are interested in you.” He didn't even look you in the eye when he said that.

”I'm not really interested in anyone" You saw through the window as you answered" well, only in someone, but it's impossible” Oh God, now the unconscious had made the wrong move to you talking too much.

”Nothing is impossible" he looked up and seemed to know what you meant.

"Well, it's just that if I just had a sign I could know it's not impossible" You started fiddling with your wrist bracelet nervously.

"How what a sign?" he stopped writing and stood right in front of you, you were still sitting at the desk.

"I don't know" You felt the adrenaline start to accelerate your pulse as it approached you.

"A date, a kiss, or even invite you to work on a project?" He placed his hands on the edge of the desk rubbing your legs.

”Yes, that sounds good " Clearly you knew what he meant, his look and yours were fixed, you appreciated that the door was closed and it was the third level, the windows were facing nowhere, so no one could see what was happening.

"Well sometimes it is necessary that you also give signals, don't you think?" His gaze and yours really seemed to be completely fixed.

"Yeah, that sounds fair." You started breathing deeper.

Slowly, he tempting the ground, began to approach, for a moment you knew that this was not right, that it was not right, but fuck, your body wanted it as you have no idea. Slowly he started to kiss you, he was nice and actually a very good kisser, then he started to get a little rougher, but both you and he knew you wanted him, his arm held your hip and your hands hugged his neck holding on to him.

"Dr. Hiddleston, I bring the copies you ordered." Someone knocked on the door and immediately the feeling of running out overwhelmed you.

"Sure, I'm coming" saw you and he wiped the lip gloss you had left on him. You packed your stuff fast and when I was going to close the door again you walked out without seeing him in the face.

"Until Monday" You started walking fast.

"Y / N wait" was the last thing you heard when you started going down the stairs two at a time.

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You, Diane and Jared planned to go out that weekend, you weren't feeling well, but you also didn't want to leave them after you had planned this for days.

"Hey, you look pale," Jared saw you worried as they waited for food at the mall.

"Do you feel well Y/N?" Diane picked up a lock of your hair as you looked at nothingness.

”I'm a little worried," you said looking at the table now "Can I ask for some advice?”

”You know you can Y/N" Jared saw you even more worried.

"What should I do if I like someone I shouldn't like?" Dress up Jared.

"Does he have a girlfriend or is he a fuck boy?" Diane asked pretty quickly.

"None, it's just...”

”Then I see no reason why you shouldn't like it."

”It's not that, but, he's like, I don't know how to say this" You didn't want to tell them that he was your thermodynamics professor, you would never actually do it. "I met him some time ago in the cinema, he's cute and kind to me, but he's older than me” you lied a little about it.

"How much are we talking about?”

"14 years, I think" you've never actually asked him about his age, but on one occasion while you were typing on his computer you saw his college professor card that had all his data on it by the way.

”Look at that, my best friend a whole league men" Diane actually got excited, started asking you what he was like and if you had already had something with him which was pretty strange, but Jared's expression wasn't really emotional.

"I can only tell you to be very careful Y/N" Jared took your hand " Do not let the pretty words lead you down a path other than the one you seek. And well, if he like you and you like him, I see no problem”

The weekend you thought about the kiss his gave, it was quite nice really nice, you had only had three boyfriends before and honestly their kiss had been better than all the previous ones. The problem was what were you going to do on Monday when you see him? Well that day you decided to wear a pink dress that your mother given you at Christmas, you never wore this type of clothes so it was going to be something quite new, you combed your hair differently even, you knew that if you were at least going to talk to him and he told you that it was a mistake he would miss something great.

Your legs started shaking when you walked into the classsroom, you sat as usual in the third row, Tom wasn't there yet, so that calmed you down a little more. You noticed that in this class you had not made friends, so to avoid the panic of seeing him in the eyes when he entered in the classroom you preferred to start talking to the girl who always sat next to you.

"He took a while, didn't it?" you smiled so you didn't look crazy.

"Yes something, but for me no problem" the girl smiled as well

"My name is Y / N, and you?”

"Meghan, you're going with the teacher Fox in relativity, aren't you?”

"Yeah, you too?”

"No but my boyfriend does, I've seen you come out of there when I expect it”

"Well, I don't really know many people.”

"Well, college is exhausting," they both smiled, actually Meghan seemed like a pretty nice girl.

"Speaking of the king of Rome, he's arrive." When she said that and you heard the door shut, fear invaded you, so you didn't look at him. You just focused on your computer monitor, but you knew he saw you.

The class felt as if it had lasted 20 minutes and not an hour and a half, the desire to leave was enough.

"Hey if you want we could have breakfast together today, apparently you don't have class now either, do you?" Meghan waited for you to put your things away.

"Of course I would love to and no, I don't have class” You fully appreciated that Meghan will not leave you in the classroom, without looking at Tom you went out with your new friend, you felt that had been a bit cruel, but the nerves were worse.

At the end of the day you didn't do anything about it and neither did Wednesday and apparently Tom wasn't interested in asking you to stay and talk either, or so it seemed.

On Friday you returned to the usual routine with the usual clothes and hairstyle, honestly you no longer felt in the mood to waste time on those things. The class went on normally until at one point you crossed eyes with him, it was a bit strange, but you pretended you didn't care and ignored him after a few seconds. At the same time in the classes you talked with Meghan, even going out to eat the cafeteria.

"Y/N can we talk for a second?"Back to being alone with him in the classroom at the end, Meghan said goodbye and whispered you in your ear that she will waiting for you in the cafeteria.

"Hey I didn't want to overdo you, let alone bother you, I apologize for it and also if you no longer want to work on the project I will fully understand it” His face seemed that he was really sorry about last week.

"I really don't know what to say." You were completely honest.

"I'm sorry I should have known that you're not interested in me at all and it's okay”

"I never said I wasn't interested”

He calmly checked the hallway and closed the classroom door

"You ran away, that tells me otherwise”

"Yes, but that's was I panicked, I didn't want to bother you”

"For God's sake, that doesn't matter anymore.”

"It does matter and quite”

"You want to talk about this then?”

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner”

"So am I, excuse me too” he hesitated for a second when he finally asked," Do you want to continue with the project?”

"Of course I do" You got a little closer to him.

"See you at 15: 00 then" He too approached and carefully kissed your hand to leave the classroom.

This time you arrived early, your teacher had let them out forty minutes earlier, so you decided to be somewhat punctual to your appointment. You read while you waited sitting on the chairs in the hallway, when you saw him come you smiled and he when saw you, smiled too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to arrive so early” he closed the door carefully and just as he turned around you gave him a pretty long kiss and he reciprocated broadly.

"I'm sorry" You saw that he was actually happy about it "I think last time we couldn't finish it"

He held your face in his hands for a few seconds "I like you Y/N, I know what's not right, I know this not right, but fuck, I like you a lot”

”And you me" He kissed you again, this time a little rough, it seemed that he wanted to make his statement clear. ”I really wanted to kiss you in front of everybody on Monday in that cute dress."

"If you like it I can bring it more days," you winked.

After that day working on the project was much more fun, and even in the classes they shared gazes from time to time, it felt good, had passed enough time that you did not date someone. On the other hand, sometimes fear invaded you, you knew that if anyone found out about whatever it was you and Tom had, it was the end of your scholarship and even your college life.

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"Do you like lobster?"He asked you while making notes on the computer and you cleaned the board.

"I've never eaten it"

“What? How can you live without eating lobster in your life?" He came up to you and, holding you by the waist, turned you towards him.

"Well, we're not all millionaires so I can't buy lobster." You inadvertently smeared chalk in his hair when you touched him.

"Then I'll buy you lobster dinner. What do you say?" He caressed your face as he waited for your answer

"Mmmm, when?”

"Tomorrow, I'd wait a few blocks from here, you don't want anyone to see you getting in my car, do you?”

"I'd love for them to, but yes, send me the instructions and I'll see you there then.”

"Why would you love it?"He kissed your neck calmly.

"That they might see that you are mine" You smiled mockingly.

"Well, I mean you're mine too, so it would be a fair deal.”

For weeks now both were texting, it was interesting to see that teachers also have a life apart from teaching.

You dressed up, not so formal or so casual for the occasion, it was the first date you had, it felt a little strange, you wore on a low-cut black dress, something daring for your tastes, but it was the most suitable thing you found. When you arrived at the rendezvous point, you immediately identified his car.

“I can't believe how perfect you are, " he gave you a sweet kiss while you fixed your skirt so it wouldn't wrinkle. He came as always very formal.

The dinner was perfect, you did not know that the lobster tasted that way, you liked it a lot, the place was beautiful, the waiters very attentive and well, talking with Tom about things that were not thermodynamics was pleasant. In the end he invited you to his apartment, which you sincerely hoped was not just with the intention of kissing you.

When they arrived his apartment looked like a palace, it was very nice, very cozy, his kitchen was comfortable enough to cook anything, your apartment was too small for a kitchen like him.

He told you that he should make some calls, that you could explore the house if you wanted and you took his word, it was very nice place, in the hallway to the bedroom had his medals and recognitions, you did not know that he studied chemistry too, he's a genius. When you finished walking, you looked in the fridge for something to drink.

"Want some wine?"Because of its height it was much easier to reach the shelves above where it seemed to have the bottles of wine.

”I would love to"

He served two glasses in half, it was red wine with a very good smell, you knew it because your father was a wine lover, so much so that he had even taken you to vineyards to see how they did it.

"May I?"You asked, pointing out if you could play something on the record player in the room.

“Clear”

When yo put the pen on the record a fairly quiet song began to play, he took the cup out of your hand and put it on the ledge next to his, placed his hand on your waist and with the other he held your hand, you placed yours on his neck.

“Would you laugh if I told you it's the first time I've danced with someone? well, that someone who is not my father invites me to dance”

"Really?”

"Yeah, well I had a boyfriend that I took out to dance, that's why it doesn't count,” you laughed as you remembered that.

"Well, what an idiot, you are beautiful Y/N and I will dance with you as many times as possible”

You felt a lot of peace in his arms, he was much stronger than you, that was clear, but even just seeing him in the eyes you felt that everything was going to be okay. You weren't very good at dancing, but he gave you the confidence to even make a mistake.

For a moment he began to kiss you slowly, slowly while the music echoed to both of us, then he began to kiss your neck which in a way tickled you, but at the same time made you want it with all your soul. After a few seconds as his hands ran through your hips and yours his hair whispered into his ear: "Take me to the bedroom" you stared at him and he understood completely.

He carried you so easily that it seemed that you did not weigh anything, carefully put you in bed and wait for you reaction.

"For God's sake, I want to make you mine from the moment I saw you at that fucking science fair contest.”

"Well now is your time" You bit your lip slightly.

He knew you were too small in comparison to him, so he was very careful when touch you, first he started by your dress, very slowly unbuttoning it. He look you in your underwear the moment he managed to take it off you. On the other hand, you, in a somewhat desperate way, started to take off his belt.

"No, until I say so" Their gaze turned a bit dark, they could see the desire for each other in your eyes.

He started kissing your crotch carefully, you moaned slightly, you had no intimate contact with anyone for a long time, so you somehow didn't remember how glorious this feels. He kept kissing getting closer to your entrance, the heat began to flood your body, after walking your thighs he began to lick your entrance a little desperate, but at the same time touching the exact points to make you see stars. He put two fingers inside you and immediately your back curled, when he entered the third in you pulled his hair as you began to feel the heat in your stomach increase more and more.

”Tom, please, I'm almost there" you moaned as your eyesight began to blur completely.

His fingers began to move faster and for an instant you felt like the heat flooded your whole body, it was the first time that someone managed to make you come with oral sex. You pulled his hair back, but it didn't seem to bother him, even taking it as a way to know where or not to continue. Your legs clenched at the feeling and he proudly began to undress. When you saw it you felt that you really needed to have he inside you, his axis was quite large, more than you imagined and its well worked body made you feel needed.

"Fuck me like there's no tomorrow," you whispered as you recovered from the first round.

You felt the desire going between your legs, again you were so wet just to imagine he inside you.

"You know that if I hurt you or if you want me to stop I will do it immediately” He placed on you and spread your legs with his knee.

You just nodded, he was staring at you as he began to insert his shaft into you, it hurt a bit, tears started running down your cheeks and Tom's face looked worried, "Do you want me to stop?”

"No!" To drown the groans you hid your face on his shoulder as he began to take a rhythm in his onslaught, at one point the pain ceased and he took a stronger rhythm, one after another, you felt as your body began to attach quite well to its axis, to the degree that you glued more your hips to his, demanding more. When he noticed it one of his hands took the headboard and with the other placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give you what you needed. At some point he also started moaning, loud and deep, which made you feel even more excited in the middle of it all.

”Fuck, why are you so perfect?" he whispered into your ear as you began to feel your orgasm was about to bloom.

"Make me yours, only yours" you moaned almost without strength.

"You are only mine" His onslaught, although it seemed that you could not, began to be faster and deeper, you knew that sitting was going to be a challenge for you in the following days.

To drown your groans he gave you a very deep kiss, his tongue did all the work in the kiss, honestly for you it was a sea of sensations that would end you unconscious of pleasure. Just as they both reached the climax he saw you in the eyes and felt you fade away in sobs and moans.

”I'm almost there" he said as he clung even more to you and your legs began to close with pleasure.

"Me too" Didn't know if you understood what you meant, but at least you were trying.

"Let me feel you" His words were your release and his, you felt the heat of his seed inside you and it was enough for your orgasm to reach the necessary point of feeling a deep warmth throughout your body. The veins on her neck were too marked and you could also feel her breathing so heavy as she enjoyed her release.

He was over you for several minutes, the only thing you could hear in the room was his busy, deep breaths. You hugged him fondly and he hugged you, when he came out of you you felt a pretty weird void, but fuck, it was the best sex you'd ever had in your life.

After his breaths managed to take a moderate course he saw you in the eyes as he groomed your hair carefully.

”I didn't want to be too brusque the first time" His hand caressed your stomach, internally you told yourself that if this was not brusque you didn't imagine the next time how sore you would end up, but it's something that really excited you, in every way.

"We'll have many more times to do it" You smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Many more" smiled in the middle of the kiss which made you adore him even more.

Thanks for readign me

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #marvel loki #marvel tom hiddleston

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alia-turin · 3 years

Text

It has really been forever, but work kind of kicked my ass the last few weeks and writing has ben really really hard. In any case I am determined to finish that (just one chapter left, yey) and I also have bunch of hot requests to work on.

Fic Title: Somewhere in Time: Chapter 9 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 Rating: Explicit [NSFW around the end] Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s) AO3 Link

“Caranthir?” Aine looked at him confused and afraid, he pulled the blanket over her knowing they won’t be alone soon. Of all the possible days and times now would be the one, of course. He knew Avallac’h probably had no idea Carabthir was not alone, but that did not make the situation less annoying and frustrating. He was not a child anymore.

As soon as Avallac’h stepped through the portal, Caranthir got off the bed and started walking to his dresser, ignoring the man. The clothes he was wearing were downstairs in his study and he was not going to talk to his teacher naked. Avallac’h moved his eyes between him and Aine, she had the blankets pulled almost to her eyes level. Caranthir could feel the anger building in him. Of course his mentor will come now, if there was one thing Avallac’h had ever achieved regarding Caranthir was to ruin the few good moments he ever had in life.

“Get out of the room.” he said as his teacher was shifting his gaze between Aine and him. “The door is there, Avallac’h.” Caranthir pointed angrily as the older elf just smiled politely, acting as if just teleporting in someone's bedroom was the most normal thing in the world. His teacher walked out of the room, Caranthir followed, considering pushing him down the stairs.

“Why are you here?” Caranthir asked as they walked in his lab, Avallach had already lit the place. “Actually, I don’t care, leave.” He was having a good moment, for the first time in his life he was actually enjoying the closeness to another living thing, going through emotions he thought for a very long time unable to experience, and it was all cut short.

“I need to ask you something.” Avallac’h pretended as if that whole thing was absolutely normal. It wasn’t, it had never been normal.

“Make an appointment.” all the serenity was gone and he was pure rage right now, he couldn’t believe something so simple bothered him so much and was able to destroy all the tranquility he felt just a moment ago. He couldn’t show his feelings to Avallac’h, he would not give him the satisfaction. He did his best to look calm, but the winter storm outside the Tower started howling. “Leave.” Caranthir snarled.

“I understand that your absolute inability to build meaningful intimate relationships probably makes you very uncomfortable being seen in bed with someone, but I really need to speak to you.” he was talking to him, but Avallac’h’s eyes were not on him. Caranthir turned and saw Aine standing on the stairs wearing one of his shirts. He turned back to his teacher, Crevan’s eyes narrowed as if trying to determine how serious this thing was. No...he was thinking if he could use her to get to him. He was staring at her in the way Caranthir would stare at a horse he found interesting. He didn’t feel jealous because of his teacher’s gaze, he was concerned.

“Aine, go upstairs.” she hesitated and he raised his voice. “Now!” This time she did it, her light steps echoing as she climbed up the cold stairs.

“Free advice, from personal experience, snapping, especially when there is no need to do so, will result in unfortunate consequences.” Avallac’h forced a smile and Caranthir’s anger only grew. That patronizing, always knowing better than him...

“Despite my inability to build meaningful intimate relationships, do I look stupid enough to follow the advice of the man known for driving the one woman he loved away.” Caranthir chuckled, he had learned from the best. If Avallac’h wanted a fight, he was going to give him one and Eredin was not here to stop them.

“Lara might have left me, but at least she knew who I was.” Crevan pointed toward the stairs even if there was no one there anymore. “Tell me Caranthir, how long before your arrogance and impulses drive her away? How about everything in you that Eredin has corrupted? How long before your true colors show and she walks away for real this time. What will you do then? Let her go?” Avallac’h made a fake laugh. “I saw the marks on her skin, you will not allow your possession to just walk away. I would know.”

Silence fell between the two of them. Deep down Caranthir knew they were just two elves trying to hurt each other without doing it physically. They knew each other far too well, despite how much Avallac’h had tried to hide his pain through the years, Caranthi had seen it. Avallac’h was wrong however, she was not a possession, or maybe he had sensed that was using the words to push him further?

“I need to know where Eredin keeps the girl.” Avallac’h finally said, his voice soft, no trace of the frustrated tone they both used.

“What girl?” It has been days since he has been in Tir na Lia, he had no idea what Eredin or anyone was up to.

“Cirilla.”

“I don’t really keep track of where Eredin stores his toys.” Caranthir smiled. “Now, the door is downstairs, or use a portal, I don’t care.” The storm outside calmed, but so high in the tower, the wind was still whistling against the stone.

“Caranthir, I know you messed with the potion for Auberon.” Avallac’h added without hesitation. “I also know Eredin asked you to.” pause, he did not respond, just looked at his teacher. “I also know you have cast a spell to prevent me from finding Cirilla, I would have located her by now otherwise.”

“Maybe you should try harder.” Caranthir didn’t speak in anger, but he knew the words would hit home. That was what Avallac’h would tell him every single time he was unable to cast a spell or do something that was expected of him.

“You need to look beyond your selfishness.” Avallac’h added. “You have responsibilities.”

“I do.” Caranthir smiled. “To my king.”

“He is not the true king.” Avallac’h did not raise his voice, but the anger there was obvious. “I need to find the girl, she is a key to something more important than whatever Eredin wants to use her for. He will ruin everything…”

“Everything what?” Caranthir laughed. “All your life you have believed that there is a great purpose for you Crevan. Be with Lara, be the power behind the throne, father the child to save us all. Look at you. Ended up with Lara death, me as a replacement for your child and now even the throne is not yours. You are not as special as you think you are, Crevan. You think everyone to be more stupid than you are, but Eredin knows exactly what is at stake here. As do I. We are all aware and don't need you to remind us.”

“But I'm the only one who knows how to help.” There was malice in Avallac’h’s smile now, an emotion he had not seen on the other man’s lips before. “You think you are stronger than me? You can do a lot, but we still need Ciri and your ability might be enough to keep Eredin happy, but they are not enough to save us. All of us.'' A pause followed, Caranthir was ready for an attack, but one did not follow. “Tell me, how good of a mage is she?” Avallac’h pointed up the stairs. “If I am to...collapse the roof of this ugly tower, how long do you think she will last? A minute? A second?”

“Your issue is with me not with her.” Caranthir spoke through his teeth. “Besides, it doesn matter how good she is. I can protect her.” Avallac’h was bluffing. He would not do that...wouldn’t he? The man was pragmatic, logical, in his mind the life of all of the Aen Elle was more valuable than whatever might happen here, Caranthir understood that very well.

“Protect her? Like that other one? The one that the human mages killed? Did you tell her you will protect her too? Or there was no time for that.” The tower shook and Caranthir had just a second to stop his teacher's spell, before he found himself flying across the room and hitting the wall.

“The same way you promised Lara to protect her.” he got up, clearing blood from his mouth. “How did that work for you?.” he cast a spell, Avallac'h saw it and avoided the ice falling from the ceiling, but Caranthir knew that would happen, he moved the table behind Crevan and hit the small of his back forcing him on his hands and knees. They were even now.

They looked at each other, the anger in Avallac’h’s eyes softened, there was still displeasure, but the malice was gone.

Avallac'h stood unsure why he even did that. Why was he going so far? He did not come here to threaten Caranthir or that poor girl that had nothing to do with their past. He was happy Caranthir found someone, the kid deserved to feel something other than anger.

All he needed was Ciri's location, Caranthir must know something, otherwise he would be able to sense her. The logical explanation was he had cast a spell, he could walk for days through the palace, assuming she was in the palace and look for the spell, but he did not have days.

“I should have been kinder to you.” Avallac'h changed his approach. This was how he should have started. Tell him how he really felt, apologize, especially knowing that after today they would certainly be enemies and one of them would end up dead. Hopefully not, but it was a possibility. “I should have taught you how to love.” A pause followed and the navigator did not speak either. "I am not threatening anymore and I will not hurt her or you, unless you provoke me. Where is Ciri?" the young man laughed at his words.

“You should either continue with murder attempt or leave.” Caranthir finally said calmly

“I wish you could look beyond your own hatred.” Avallac’h sighed. “Lara taught me things I didn’t know. About myself. I think you have learned something about yourself tonight as well, my boy.”

Avallac'h couldn't believe how much alike the two of them were. Not in everything, and he was to blame for all of their similarities and differences. Ironically, he was not his biological father, but judging by their characters he might as well be.

“Avallac’h, it's too late to be my father.” Caranthir finally said as if reading his mind. It was a mix between regret and pain. "I will not tell you where she is. I will not betray Eredin."

Avallac'h nodded. That one was on him. He could have been smarter but his emotions took the best of him. He opened a portal and walked away. He was going to find her himself.

Caranthir stood there not sure what happened or why. He just stared at one point on the wall, his mind numb.

"Caranthir?" Aine's voice came from the stairs, he turned his head just to see her standing back at the stairs. The look on her eyes made him snap. She was scared and she was worried. For herself or for him? "Are you okay?" She asked and he stood there...for him? That was the first time…

"I'm okay. Let's go to bed." he walked to her and wrapped his around her shoulders.

Carathir woke up sensing his spell broken. Avallac’h finally found her. He knew it was just a matter of time after their conversation yesterday he just hoped it was in more time than that. Going back to Ti na Lia wasn’t something he wanted to do right now. Aine was still asleep, her small back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms a bit tighter around her, he had never woken up next to someone in his life, nor had he ever had the desire to do so until now. He couldn’t believe how his entire life he had missed that. Sure, until now he had the need to be someone for more than a night only once before, but the whole feeling of having someone in his arms...he buried his face closer to her, inhaling the smell of wild flowers and pine from her hair. Caranthir wished he didn’t need to go to Tir na Lia now, he could spend the day here in bed just...holding her. That was new as well.

He felt her shift a bit and he released his grip not wanting to be clingy. Funny, he managed to sleep the whole night without moving at all, that was a first as well. She rolled over looking at him with sleepy eyes. Caranthir just stared. Even half awake she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He felt bad for waking her, probably it was his tight embrace, but he could just not control himself, he needed to feel her so badly against his skin.

“Good morning.” she said as her eyes were pinned on his, he couldn’t stop admiring all the color on her. The red hair, such a contrast to the paleness of his, the vividness of her eyes, compared to the dullness of his...

“Last night...I promise that won’t happen again.” she looked at him puzzled, again he realized what he said was stupid and he should use more than three words to describe things. “I don’t mean...I mean with Avallac’h and the tower. Not what happened before that.” what happened before that he hoped would happen again. More than once. “He was out of line.”

“He is your teacher, right?” she asked as she pulled herself closer to him. Caranthir just nodded. Avallac’h was more than a teacher to him and less at the same time, but now that was not his problem. He had to tell her that he needed to leave despite not knowing for sure yet. Truth was he had no idea what was going on in Tir na Lia, he knew someone broke his spell, probably Avallac’h no one else had the power to do so, not now. Maybe Eredin captured him...he had to go.

“He was my teacher.” he finally answered, realizing that silence lasted too long. “He is something else right now.” he had to tell her, but how to do that without making it sound as if he was abandoning her. Last night she told him this was what she was afraid of, being used and then left. “Tell…” he stopped and her eyebrows raised in curiosity. Did he really want to know? “Tell me about that man. The one you said...left you.”

Aine stared at his pale eyes not sure she understood the question. She understood the words, that was not the problem, but why was he asking about that all of a sudden? Then again, she had seen probably some of the most intimate moments of his life, it was just fair.

“Well...not much to say...he was someone close to my half brother, but wanted to be closer, get more power.” That happened years ago and it still hurt her in a way. It had been a valuable lesson to learn her place. Not that much because of what he did, but because it was such a good reminder for her she had no place, neither with humans nor with elves. “He thought my father valued me more than he actually did, and he was not entirely wrong, he encountered him at a time when he was somewhat affectionate to me. We spent months together, I was happy because I felt like finally I had found my place. Finally I wasn’t neither here nor there, I was a part of something, accepted by someone...a few months passed he finally understood that my father used me to show off to elves who were sympathetic to humans, parade how generous he was to me, and ignored me the rest of the time. He tried, he asked my father if being with me makes him part of the family, my father ignored him and there was that.”

“Did you ever…” Caranthir started and then stopped half way. It was curious how hard these questions were for him, but he was the one asking, she did not share that on her own. Aine could feel his body being tense around her, his embrace a bit stronger. “Did you ever have that with him?”

“That?” she had to try to suppress a laugh. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘that’.”

Caranthir felt the air just stopping in his lungs. He knew jealousy as a feeling, but that was the first time he felt it in a romantic way. He wasn’t even sure why, whoever the elf was, that was in the past, he didn’t even know his name, and that was probably for the best as otherwise he would find him and kill him. Not for what he had done to her, but because they had something, no matter how fake it might have been. No, the real jealously came from the fact that he probably held her in his arms, the way he was holding her now, but he had not done that with anyone else.

“Held you in his arms?” he finally asked, knowing the answer.

“Caranthir, why are you asking?” she pushed herself away from him a bit, placing a hand on his chest and looking at him concerned. “Does it really matter what happened years ago, with someone who does not matter anymore?”

Why was he asking? She was right, it didn’t matter.

“We need to go back to Tir na Lia.” he finally said. He just didn’t want to sound like he was leaving her, but he was leaving her, even if it was not in the same way. “And I will have to leave with the king on a hunt most likely.” he saw the confusion and pain on her face. He reached quickly for her cheek and cupped it with his hand. “I did not plan for that to happen.”

“Can I stay here?” she finally asked, the concern in her eyes not disappearing but he could feel her body being less tense.

“No.” he laughed. “I might be gone for a day, but I might be gone for months. You can’t open a portal on your own, not even to move yourself downstairs. There is no way out of here but through a portal.” he kissed her forehead. “In Tir na Lia, you will have all of my servants, everything you’d ever need.”

“Caranthir, no…” she grabbed his hand from her face and held it in hers. “My place is not there, I’m neither human nor elf, I have no place in the palace. Not as an elf…”

He placed his finger on her lips making her silent.

“You have a place. Here and in Tir na Lia.” he opened a portal under the two of them and suddenly they moved to his rooms in Tir na Lia. They fell on his bed, the warm blankets from the Winter tower with them. “This is your place.”

Before she could protest again there was a knock on the door and one of his servants walked in, an elderly man who usually looked after everything.

“My lord, I was not aware you will be coming back.” the man bowed as he spoke, he looked at Aine for a second and then his eyes were on Caranthir again.

Aine pulled the covers closer to her chin as Caranthir got off the bed, the servant still standing there. That dynamic was not unfamiliar to her, the man was most likely trained all his life to do exactly what he was doing right now and Caranthir had grown up knowing humans were nothing but servants. She was the odd one in the situation. He got off the bed and walked around it, the servant's head bowed down but he followed his master’s movement as he went to the window on the other side of the bed. Aine used the chance to study the room, it was at least twice as big as the bedroom in the Winter Tower, the bed was softer, there was a small table with chairs, dresser next to the wall and vanity, but the mirror was covered with a sheet. That was curious, she realized just now that there was not a single mirror in the Winter Tower.

“I will be leaving Tir na Lia for a hunt.” Caranthir turned toward his servant. “In my absence, her word is my word.” The man did not answer to him, just gave her a quick look, almost as if trying to understand. Aine did not blame him. His life was easily defined. Humans served elves and there was that. She was neither. She wasn’t his mistress, nor wanted to be, but she was not his equal either. “Make sure you find her some clothes. We left everything at the Winter Tower.”

“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed and shot another look at her, filled with confusion as if he was trying to make sure he really understood his master’s commands. He nodded and walked out.

“You don’t need to do that.” she said as the man walked away. “I don’t need servants.”

Caranthir walked toward the bed and sat at the edge, the morning light from the window reflecting in the white lines of the scars on his body.

“You said you don’t have a place.” he ran his fingers through her face. “I’m giving you one. But you will not have a place, among the Aen Elle, or among the humans, unless you decide if you want to be Aen Elle or human. It’s yours.” he made a gesture with his other hand pointing at the vast room. “There is a study next door and all the books you need on magic...hopefully I will be back soon.”

He looked at her face trying to remember all the lines, how her red hair contrasted with her skin, the mismatching eyes, the curve on her nose, the fine on her cheekbones...he hoped that would take no more than a day but he knew Avallac’h he was clever and he had already seen the rest of the Red Riders preparing in the yard. It was a matter of time before Eredin came looking.

“Why are you doing that?” she finally asked him and he was taken aback. What sort of question was that? “You don’t need to.” she added. “You can leave me in the rooms where you kept me imprisoned, they are perfectly adequate, but you are giving me your rooms. Why?”

Caranthir could not answer these questions. He could, but not actually voice it. She made him feel good, she made him forget how bad he felt about himself, she made him feel wanted for something else than being Eredin’s Navigator. He also liked holding her in his arms, just having another being that accepted him for who and what he was. Someone who in a way was as lonely as he was, someone just as him, could never find their place, because he was not a warrior like Eredin and Imlerith, but he was also different from Avallac’h. Or at least wanted to be.

“Come.” he took her hand in his and walked with her to the window where he was standing just a moment ago. She hesitated for a moment to step closer, she had nothing covering her body. “It’s okay the rooms are high enough, even if someone looks they can’t see you.” He pushed her closer to the glass and wanted her to see what he was looking at just a moment ago. Eredin and the rest of the Red Riders rushing around the yard, preparing to leave. He had not spoken with him, but he already knew what was going on. “I’m doing that, because you are doing something for me.” he kissed her neck where he could still see the marks he left on her last night. “Something to me.” He placed his hands over her belly and slid them up to her breasts, but she stopped him.

“A payment?” there was hurt in her words and Caranthir stepped back, she was not turning but she could see his reflection in the window.

“No.” he wished he was able to express what was going on in his head. The fact that he did not want to leave, not now that he actually felt good for the first time in many years. “Gratitude. Appreciation.” yes, that sounded closer to what he was feeling, probably not an accurate description but as close as he could allow himself to admit aloud. He wrapped his hands around her again, but this time sank his teeth in her skin, pulling her closer to himself trying to remember how her skin feels against his. One hand sliding between her legs, the other reaching for her breasts but she stopped him again.

“Not like that.” she turned around and faced him, placing a hand on his chest just over his heart. “Gentle.”

“I’m not sure I know how.” it wasn’t a lie. Last night was the nicest he had ever been to someone in bed and he still wasn’t sure that qualified as gentle.

“I can help you.” she stepped on her tip toes and kissed his lips. Caranthir didn’t even need to think about it, his whole body was just responding to her.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” It was partially an excuse to hide his lack of experience in being kind, but also truth. It was a matter of minutes before Eredin asked for him. He wanted to treat her differently than everyone else and he was far less ashamed of himself around her, he wouldn’t be standing naked in front of her now if that was not the case, but he had no idea where to start from.

“You don’t need a lot of time.” she kissed him again, this time he was trying to memorize the sweetness of her taste.

Aine wasn’t even sure where all that courage came in her, she knew she wanted him, just this time she wanted to look at his face, all the time. As much as she liked last night, that was different. He said he could be away for months, so she wanted to remember him.

“I will try.” he groaned as he reached down and lifted her, placing her on the window sill but still supporting most of her body. He moved one hand between her legs running a finger through her entrance feeling that she was already wet. Redness crawled trough her neck and cheeks having herself for a second day spread like that for him.

“Slowly.” she moaned as his finger was replaced by the tip of his cock. He listened, he pushed slowly in her, his hand grabbing her chin and made her look at him as he was slowly pushing in her. He was careful and gentle, trying to be. The hand that was supporting her was still digging in her skin, probably leaving bruises and she could see the lust in his eyes.

As he pushed all the way in he leaned forward and kissed her, moving the hand that was holding her chin to where they were connected, his thumb easily reaching for her clit.

“I don’t have time.” he whispered in her ear as he picked up the pace. She kissed his chest trying to silence her moans. Despite his faster and harsher pace he was trying to be kind, his lips were on her neck, but this time kissing not biting. She wrapped her legs around his urging him to go faster even if he did not really need the invitation. He moved his lips to hers just before she came around him, as his own moves became more frantic and needy. Couple of thrusts later and he came slamming his hand at the window behind her to find support.

Neither of them moved for a second, she couldn’t until he did, and he was just leaning over her looking at her unfocused and trying to catch his breath.

He didn’t step away from her but grabbed her and threw her on the bed, her back hitting the softness of the mattress.

“How was that for ‘nice’?” He did not follow her in bed, but watched her naked shape over the covers.

“We need to practice.” she teased him, as she was trying to memorize every inch of his body.

“When I am back.” he leaned forward and kissed her. For a second she thought he would follow her in bed, but he stopped over her. He pulled one of the rings from his hand and handed it to her, it was different from the one he used to teach her. This one was just a band with runes marked on it. “Keep that with yourself. If something happens, I can find it.”

“If something happens?” she could sense concern in his voice. Happens to her or to him? “No more tracking spells?” she teased, not wanting to even imagine what ‘something happens’ could mean. Not now.

“No tracking spells.” he touched her lips with his thumb. “If you are to walk away now, and leave the ring here, I won’t be able to find you.”

She wanted to tell him that she wouldn't leave, not unless he asked her to, but a knock on the door prevented that.

“My lord.” it was his servant. “The king is asking for you.”

#my writing

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years

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Hi y'all!

So I realized today that it's been about three months since I started cross-posting my stuff to ao3 (those of y'all who were here for After Each Midnight while it was still a wip will know that I've been writing for longer than that but anyway). With the latest fic I just posted, I now have 30 works published to ao3 within those three months! Which is wild to me!

Since that averages out to ten fics a month and I like round numbers, I decided to celebrate by listing my 10 favorite fics...of my own lol. Narcissistic? Maybe! But it's fun anyway!

This is a really long post as each rec includes a summary, an excerpt (or a few), and some personal notes/anecdotes about the writing process or what inspired me to write the fic, etc. so I'm putting it all under the break. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then of course please just skip over this one, but for anyone who wants to revisit some of my older works with me, or if you're curious about which fics I personally like the most, or if you want to talk about your favorite fics of mine in the replies or anything, then that's cool too! I just wanted to find a way to mark this down because it feels like something of an achievement ^_^

Thank you!

1. After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, (54,401 words, Rated E) Ship(s): 3zun, Wangxian Summary: When Lan Xichen wakes up the morning after the fifth anniversary of his life crumbling to rubble around him in Guanyin Temple, he's shocked to find both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his bed, both whole and alive and...married to him?! (A time travel fix-it in which the time traveling and fixing of things has already been done by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen accidentally gets dragged along for the happily ever after.) Excerpt(s):

1. “Poor da-ge,” [Meng Yao] teases again, this time with a bit of an edge, and Lan Xichen cracks one eye open just enough to see him stripping first out of his shoes and socks, then his third layer of robes, then his second, until he’s dressed much as he had been the prior evening - in nothing but a black under-robe so sheer that it actually almost looks gray. It clings to all the petite, lithe curves of him and the sight makes Lan Xichen’s mouth practically water. “What if I want my turn with you now? What if I’m jealous that er-ge got to have you all to himself for hours , while your poor A-Yao had to go have a drink with Xian-didi just to pass the time.” “Oh gods you’re a beast too,” Nie Mingjue groans as Meng Yao slips on top of him gracefully to lean down and pepper kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. “Get off of me, foul creature. Go tempt our husband, I’m temporarily immune to your wiles.” “You’re never immune to my wiles, da-ge, and er-ge is meditating oh so diligently. He’s certainly not smiling and watching us through his lashes as if we’re not well aware of his tricks and what he likes to watch.” - 2. “It took years of practice, you with your painting and I with my answering, but when you were a teenager I finally decided on the best advice I could think to give you: Do not seek for every answer in this life all at once, Xichen,” he instructs with a smile as he returns to painting. “Let them come to you gently and in their season, and trust that all will be as it should in the end.” Lan Xichen takes another breath and returns to his painting with a slightly trembling hand - a trembling that ends up creating a lovely branch on the tree he is painting that, when he turns his head to look, is modeled almost exactly after the one growing in the garden behind the Gentian House, just beyond the window. “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree,” he whispers and Qingheng-Jun hums across from him in clear understanding. “And yet it flows from your brush all the same. Now we can all know that you have nothing to fear, your memories will also come to you in their season. Until then, allow yourself to rest, and remember that you have the support of your family whenever you need it.” “Yes, father,” he replies with a whisper and a tremulous smile, feeling lighter than he has in days. - 3. “I will go into seclusion.” The statement is a stone dropped into the gently rippling water of a spring-fed pool. The stone is jagged and pitted with all that the world has done to chip away at it, to make it rough and painful to the touch. It is sharp in his hands, heavy with all the hurts he still carries in his chest, all the grief he has no more room to hold. He feels lighter with it out of his grasp, the words settling into the ensuing silence with some bittersweet relief.

Notes: I know I've said it before but it bears repeating: this entire fic exists solely because of the smut scene in chapter 1. I thought of the smut first, and then the lead-in to it, and I intentionally left the end of chapter 1 ambiguous - it could have ended right there as an angsty one-shot with Lan Xichen believing that it was all a hallucination, and there's nothing really in the text to say that it's not because Lan Xichen is a very unreliable narrator in this fic. But then I wanted to write the backstory for the smut if, in fact, it wasn't a hallucination - and everything kind of...butterfly-effected out from there to become what it is now, along with all the extras in the series that's now roughly 120k long altogether and still not finished. Oops. Oh and also: this fic that started the ball rolling only exists because for some reason the servers for Omegle went down for months where I live, and prior to that I used to spend hours rp'ing. Without that creative outlet, I filled the vacuum with writing fic instead and now here we are. So if you're grateful for my fics then thank Omegle for sucking for a few months lol --//-- 2. Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs (7386 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Xuanli & Gen (kidfic), 3zun (briefly) - an extra for AEM Summary: A brief look at how in this kinder world, Jin Zixuan managed to find and legitimize his three siblings as well as a snapshot of the chaos of love and fun that is his family with his siblings, his beloved wife, and their seven children. Excerpt:

He had listened to [Madam Qin] and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could. [Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao] return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind. “No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli's chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister. Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...” He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.

Notes: This fic is actually a request fill for someone and I had some trouble ending it because there's a lot more I want to write with this wild family, though I did eventually find what felt like a good place to cut it off with 3zun arriving in Jinlintai for the visit they leave for at the end of AEM. There is something of a follow-up floating around my wips that - if it ever gets written - is a direct sequel to AEM that continues where this extra leaves off, with 3zun getting to spend time with their hoard of niblings in Jinlintai. No promises about if/when that will get written though. --//-- 3. Performance Art (8106 words, Rated M) Ships: 3zun, Wangxian (briefly) Summary: A Modern AU inspired by the 'Hysterical Literature' performance art project. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao take turns doing their best to read aloud from chosen written works as they're filmed. The twist is that they're trying to do so as they're being pleasured with a vibrator controlled by one of their partners off-camera, each of their turns ending when the partner being filmed/played with has an orgasm. Excerpt(s):

1. “Engage people with what they expect; it is..- it…it is what they are able to discern and.. ngh.. confirms their projections. It settles.. ah settles them into predictable-“ He cuts off suddenly to set the book down flat and slap one hand down sharply on the tabletop. Meng Yao simply clicks another button and Nie Mingjue groans as his newly unoccupied hand twitches back to rest on the edge of the table closer to himself, as if about to drop down beneath it. Lan Xichen and Meng Yao both shift forward in their seats but Nie Mingjue catches himself before they have to intervene, returning his hand to the middle of the table and forcing a deep breath into his lungs so he can continue. “-Predictable patterns of..of response, occupying their minds while you w-wait for the ex- extra-“ he huffs out a sharp breath and curls his hand into a fist as he tilts forward and forces out the rest of the sentence in a rush. “Extraordinary moment — that whichtheycannotanticipate. FUCK!” - 2. It’s a few hours of quiet, peaceful work later when Lan Wangji shifts his weight in the way that means he wants Wei Wuxian’s actual attention and not his ‘ I’m sculpting so I’m periodically looking at you ’ sort of attention which he is, of course, quick to grant. He pauses in his muttering half to himself and half to Lan Wangji to say, “Hm? What’s up Zhanzhan?” “From Xiongzhang,” he says by way of explanation, holding his phone out for Wei Wuxian to squint at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the small black and white video that’s playing after having spent hours looking between Lan Zhan and the clay form taking shape under his hands. “What is this?” he asks as he leans in closer and squints a little harder. He blinks and his eyes go wide in the next moment as he realizes what’s happening on the screen as the woman’s tension climaxes ( literally ) - and then it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to figure out just why he’d been asked to create an eerily similar setup in his own studio the previous afternoon for three men he might as well consider his sort-of brothers at this point. His next exhale is a wheeze as his ears go hot and Lan Wangji is instantly shrugging into a robe to stand from his lounging position and approach, concern written all over his features. “Wei Ying?”

Notes: I don't really have too much to say about this one except that it brought me so much joy and laughter to write and it honestly kind of surprises me that it's one of my less popular fics - it's nothing but a fun, sexy time! But I'm also terrible at guessing trends/what people will want to see so that might be on me haha. Oh! Also - a minor thing but something I'm very mildly proud of: the narrator voice is dependent on who's behind the camera! I wanted a way to make the person filming feel just as involved as the other two and I thought that was a fun way to do it since within the narrative it's technically going to be their perspective used for the video they're recording. Just to give y'all a little insight into my decision-making when it comes to my writing style for this one. --//-- 4. Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu (6411 words, Rated E) Ship: NieYao - pre-canon (just barely) Summary: Meng Yao is Nie Mingjue's trusted right hand, intelligent and valued by his Sect Leader, at least, who has learned lately to appreciate him a hell of a lot in private too - and for much more personal matters than the minutiae of running the Nie Sect. Seeing as Nie Mingjue trusts him so much, he finds it in himself to ask for something new - for Meng Yao to top him. [Technically an extra for AEM but can be read as a standalone] Excerpt:

“Am I to play into this boorish act you’re putting on tonight?” he teases instead as he steps closer until he’s near enough to feel the way the steam from the bath has turned the air sticky and humid. Nie Mingjue finally looks up at him and Meng Yao is internally crowing with triumph as he watches the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth fall away, his expression smoothing into quiet contentment. He did that. His presence alone is enough to help Nie Mingjue relax. It feels nearly as good as the day the man had angrily defended him to his own disciples and promoted him on the spot. “It’s not an act, I’m plenty boorish,” Nie Mingjue gruffs, returning his gaze to the letter, but this close Meng Yao can actually watch his eyes do nothing but try to glare a hole through the center of the page. “Of course you are, Zongzhu,” Meng Yao allows, his tone openly humoring - as is the smile tightening the corners of his mouth. “Therefore I can only suppose that you would prefer it if I returned to my walk and left you to continue your...correspondence in peace.”

Notes: Once again not really many notes on this one! I just love NieYao, I think their dynamic during Meng Yao's Nie Sect days has so much potential and I love exploring it every so often. --//--

5. Bite The Hands That Feed (1590 words, Rated E) Ship: XiYao Summary: After being forced out of the Nie Sect, Meng Yao has to come to grips with the hunger that's been chasing him his whole life, and he finds temporary satisfaction over and over in Lan Xichen, who is always so generous with his time and his body and is willing to help him feel less empty even just for a night. Excerpt:

He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body. If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.

Notes: So I wrote this one when I was getting a little tired of the straight narration style of all my other fics and I wanted to try my hand at something looser, a little more prose-like but also a little darker than my usual fluff. I'm not sure how successful I was - this is actually one of my absolute least popular fics, number-wise! - but it's one of my favorites anyway. --//-- 6. A Figure, A Mouth (2788 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A quiet, intimate evening spent in the comfort of the Four Seasons Mountain Manor sometime between their arrival/fixing up of the place and the confrontation with Ye Baiyi. Excerpt:

After a while of warming each other up Wen Kexing urges him back up to push the bed under the window just as he’d said he would. Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to blow out the candles before he rejoins Wen Kexing in their bed, the sudden darkness leaving them free to admire each other clothed in nothing but broad swathes of cool, sweet blue light bisected by deep black lattices of shadow from the trees out in the yard, the shadows from the contours of the wall and decorations around the window blocking and revealing them in turns. Lao Wen is, of course, as beautiful like this as he has been in every way Zhou Zishu has ever seen him, and he takes the time to savor it, to indulge in the decadence that Wen Kexing presents for each of his remaining senses. He’s a feast for the eyes, all hard muscle and skin glistening with glittering diamonds of sweat along his shoulders and the soft curve of his cheek. He’s a symphony for the ears, breathless desire and tender calls of his name that Zhou Zishu never lets go unanswered when they’re like this. By now Wen Kexing is an expert at drawing pleasure from him in every unlikely way there is to make sure that the effects of the nails don’t keep him from reaching his peak at least once, occasionally more in spite of his fading sense of touch.

Notes: Wenzhou makes me so soft and emotional, y'all. The next one on the list is also a Wenzhou fic and I just can't seem to stop writing them in fluffy/smutty situations because it's what they deserve. I really don't have anything more interesting to say about this fic, I just love them haha. --//-- 7. Tease Him Just Enough (2537 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A possible outcome if the conversation post-face reveal in episode 6 had gone differently - i.e. if Zhou Zishu had called Wen Kexing out on all his flirting and challenged him to do something about it - and then he does. Excerpt:

They don’t need words to communicate that at least right here in this particular moment there’s no one else they would rather have in their arms, pressed up against their bodies, no one else’s tongue who would find a new home in each other’s mouths or any other body their hands would rather explore. Wen Kexing has already known that they’re fated, but for the first time it feels like they’re agreeing to be so. Even if it’s just for a night. (Not that he thinks it will be just one night for them, but getting Zhou Xu to agree to anything remotely of the kind is like trying to drag a stray back-alley cat into a bath so he’ll take what he can get.)

Notes: My first fic for Word of Honor! The whole time I was watching the show (read: obsessively binge-watching) I was like 'Okay I like this show a lot but it's not nearly as compelling as The Untamed, idk if I'll be motivated to write anything for it'. Then I got to the end and I was like NEVERMIND YES I AM. I played myself. --//-- 8. You Need Tending (12,108 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren & The Jades & Wei Wuxian (this is a kidfic so nothing romantic!) Summary: Wei Wuxian is alone and homeless on the streets of Yunmeng, unaware of the presence of his parents' old friend so nearby. Lan Wangji is a child grieving for the loss of his mother in silence, overwhelmed by the world his uncle keeps dragging him out into. It takes their paths crossing more than once for Lan Qiren to realize just who Wei Wuxian is and that he needs their help, but he gets there eventually. Excerpt:

He watches on as the man comes to a stop next to the boys and squats down to check over the one who had been lost and suddenly he remembers lying on the ground and looking up at a stern-faced man with gentle hands and a ribbon across his forehead. The man who had given him medicine and bandages after a small boy had defended him from dogs, and an older boy had talked to him so kindly and helped him to sit up off the dirt. Wei Ying gasps as the memory hits and he scrambles back down off the roof, landing on the packed dirt of the space between the buildings with an oof, excitement bubbling in his chest. Along with the memory comes a name and it flies from his lips as he scrambles up off the ground to push his way into the crowd again. “Master Lan!” he shouts, his tiny voice lost in the din of the market. He tries to shove closer but the little family is already walking away, their backs to him as he strains against the flow of people much bigger and stronger than him. “Master Lan!” he tries again, desperation lending extra strength and emotion to his cry. Wei Ying stops struggling as he watches the two boys in white walk away, the pair of them flanking Master Lan in his sky blue robes as they move through the market, radiating serenity in the midst of the chaos. His vision blurs and he scrubs his forearm against his eyes angrily to dry them, trying to keep the three of them in his sight for as long as he can just in case they turn around and spot him. Just in case they remember him and maybe want to tell him to come with them.

Notes: Baby Wei Ying T-T He just hits me right in the heart, and so does baby Lan Zhan! And baby Lan Xichen. All the babies. This fic was actually completely inspired by an utterly adorable fanart of Lan Xichen giving a grumpy baby A-Zhan a piggyback ride! I'd been wanting to write a kidfic type fix-it for a while and that art was the spark I needed to come up with something workable. (Edit: here’s my reblog of the art I’m talking about!) --//--

9. Familial Circumstances (5393 words, Rated G)

Ship(s): Lan Qiren & Original Characters, Lan Qiren & Jin Zixuan, Lan Qiren & Qin Su, Lan Qiren & Mo Xuanyu - An extra for AEM

Summary: Another kidfic extra for the horde of children in Jinlintai, this time as seen through the lens of their beloved Great Uncle Lan. It's a simple relationship-study-type look at how all the children love their Great Uncle and how much he loves and treasures them in return.

Excerpt:

An unusual stillness accompanies [Jin Ruhai's] playing. Jin Lu stops fidgeting with her fingers, the twins slip into the perfect stillness of those who are utterly aware of themselves at all times - a trait [Lan Qiren has] noticed in every skilled fighter he’s ever come across - and even Jin Ye relaxes, slumping further and further backwards until she’s slouched down against his stomach, legs dangling over his crossed shins.

The piece isn’t a terribly long one, nor as complex as the next score Lan Qiren intends to teach the boy, but Jin Ruhai’s mastery of it is impressive. Again, Lan Qiren is forcefully reminded of Lan Wangji, always most at peace when behind his instrument to play with and/or for the people he loves.

There’s silence in the room until the last note fades with a shiver into the air and Jin Ruhai pulls his hands back from the instrument. The stillness lasts for one more moment before it’s interrupted by Jin Lu sneezing suddenly and her siblings laugh as the quiet breaks.

“I had to hold that in the whole time !!” Jin Lu laughs as she rubs her sleeve under her nose, one eye screwed shut as she giggles. “I didn’t want to mess up A-Zhuang’s song, it’s so pretty!”

Notes: I'm definitely biased because they're all my oc's except for Jin Ling, but I genuinely love all of the Jin children in the AEM AU. If anyone is ever interested in knowing more about their individual personalities and the like please don't hesitate to ask me, I've actually put quite a bit of thought into all 6 of the kids I created wholecloth and I have a lot of feelings about Jin Ling getting the chaotic siblings and loving parents he was robbed of.

--//--

10. Opportunities To Practice (5710 words, Rated M) (*WIP)

Ship: Xuanli - An extra for AEM

Summary: Jin Zixuan is nervous for his..marital activities with Jiang Yanli - after all, who could he possibly ask for advice? His father? No thank you. Thankfully Jiang Yanli is sweet and patient and knows her husband well - he just needs a bit of time and he'll get it figured out.

Excerpt:

She shivers with an interesting combination of want and intense vulnerability as she stands there, feeling bare in spite of her remaining layer. It’s of a material so sheer as to be practically nonexistent, nothing more than a delicate veil of a red so pale it’s nearly pink that sits on her body like a second skin. Until it falls gently away at the knee to flutter around her ankles, it clings to every curve, every contour, and as she watches Jin Zixuan doesn’t even bother to hang the robe he had just removed on the screen. He lets it drop into a soft pool around her bare feet, his gaze roaming her newly exposed figure - she would perhaps feel strange about it did he not look so devoted , so in awe of seeing her practically naked in front of him.

Yanli gasps softly as he suddenly drops to his knees at her feet and oh - that’s heady. Her body, which she hasn’t really thought of too much in the past beyond the occasional irritation that it’s weaker than she would prefer, has put the man she loves on his knees. He’s looking up at her now, his eyes wide and his hands reverent as he raises them to rest on her thighs, thumbs caressing her too-warm skin through the barely-there robe that bunches up softly under the pressure of his grip.

“You’re right,” he finally breathes, sounding slightly strained. “I’d like this to stay on. If that’s - are you alright?”

“I am,” she reassures.

Notes: This last fic is technically a wip, the only one in the list! However! - it's going to be a collection of one-shots centered around Xuanli and their sexual exploits that lead to their seven children, and possibly also the ones that are just for fun (horny Yanli rights forever). It's not currently high on my list of priorities or anything and the one chapter that's up so far can stand on its own so it's a wip but it's not? I just love Xuanli so much and I want to explore their relationship in my happy fix-it AU whenever the mood strikes, and whenever that happens this is where those one-shots will go.

--//--

And that's it! My personal top 10 favorite fics of my own as of right now. I thought about doing my top 10 according to statistics like hit counts or kudos, but I genuinely love some of these unpopular fics and I wanted to give them some love and attention even if it's just for me. I know there's a lot here to sift through but if any of y'all enjoyed the list or any of the specific fics on it let me know! I liked taking this little pause to take a look at what I've actually been producing these last few months.

Thanks for reading!

#the untamed fanfic #gonna tag the main romantic ships listed:#3zun #NieYao #XiYao #Wangxian #Xuanli #Wenzhou #y'all I legit spent hours formatting this and writing all this out #I also went looking for the fanart that inspired You Need Tending so I could link it and my page refreshed #which I suspected it would do so of course I hit Ctrl+A and copied it all -#only to find out that doing that doesn't extend past the readmore break which I had already put in #so I lost the whole introductory bit and had to rewrite it #T-T I didn't even find the fanart I'm gonna look for it again on mobile cuz it's easier #ANYWAY - literally no one asked for this and I don't even know if anyone was curious to begin with but I wanted to make this anyway soooo #It's also lowkey one of my goals to write something one day that becomes popular enough to end up on rec lists #So this is me kind of indulging that in a very 'tooting my own horn' kind of way that I refuse to apologize for #No shame in my game #Also if you see any typos or formatting weirdness No You Don't :) I've been doing this for 5+ hours and I'm hUNGRY

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oohnoniall · 3 years

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Hawk & Sparrow [Rowan Whitethorn x OC] - Chapter 2

WARNINGS; Fantasy violence, cursing, Mirima doesn’t have self-control and that leads to her burning out a Lot, Rowan avoiding his feelings, Mirima having no idea about her feelings, there’s a lot of feelings being avoided, power dynamics in the relationship.

Prologue.

Chapter 1

A crooked smile stretched on his lips. She could see his sharp canine teeth, see the feral look in his eyes as he peered down at her. There was a bite of cold steel against the tender flesh of her neck. She could feel it digging into her pulse point. The coppery tang of blood in the air.

"I was right," his voice was a whisper. "You weren't good enough. You've never been good enough."

"Rowan," she hated the pleading tone in her voice. Hated the way her eyes burned with tears that she refused to shed.

His forest green eyes peered into hers, a look of malice and something else. She hated it, hated to know that Rowan was looking at her with anything other than his normal cool indifference. This wasn't her Rowan. Not the man who had pushed her and pushed her but a monster that she didn't know.

"Goodbye Mirima."

There was a hot stinging sensation at her throat, his hands on her shoulders like when she was burning out. He shoved her and she fell. Over and over, falling down into the darkest abyss. One that she couldn't see the bottom of.

It was then that she realized what else had been in Rowan's eyes when she had pleaded with him. When he had killed her.

Joy.

Mirima shot up from her bed, gasping for breath as her left hand went to her throat. Nothing. No blood. She wasn't falling off the edge of something. She was still alive. Still in Doranelle, waiting for her one and only opportunity.

The nightmares had been happening more often. She hadn't spoken to Rowan about them. Hadn't wanted to bother him with how useless they were. He would have been too concerned or acted like they were another reason to keep her out of the cadre. He wouldn't have been kind or understanding. Hardass Whitethorn would have been annoyed. Yet, for some reason, the knowledge had calmed her. She didn't feel as though she had to say anything about her problems.

His training was harsh enough that she often forgot whatever was bothering her besides what muscle hurt the worst.

How was she going to deal with any of it while he was away? She had never had to train with someone else. Never had to think about how someone's training might differ from Rowan's.

She had met Fenyrs in passing but that didn't mean she knew him. She thought he was funny and much kinder than Rowan, which wasn't saying much, but she doubted his training would be anything like what she was used to. There was a high chance that he wouldn't know how ... Prone she was to overdoing things. What if Rowan had left that key information out?

Mirima tried not to focus on her anxieties as she readied herself for the day. Her hands were shaking as she brushed out the white blonde of her hair. Her eyes focused on the scar on her left arm as she slid her tunic on, counting each breath as she stared at it. One of the ways Rowan had tried to teach her control. One of the ways that had only worked to calm her mind and not her magic.

She would end up dying by her magic. It would drown her, it would take her under and never release her from its grasp. She didn't mind that. If she was going to die she wanted it to be from her lack of control rather than an enemies' sword. If only so she knew she wasn't a completely hopeless fighter.

She swallowed once, letting it take all of her worries into the pit of her stomach. Another technique of Rowan's that had never actually done more than making her feel stupid. She sometimes wondered if all his techniques were just ways to make her look like a fool.

Mirima slipped a few knives into her belt before making her way out of her bedroom. Her head held high, a haughty smirk on her lips. Everyone in Mistward was used to seeing her as the cocky would-be-warrior. There had never been a reason to let anyone see her differently.

The morning sun had yet to rise over the hills. The clearing that was normally used for her training was flooded with the grey light of early dawn. Before the world changed and turned into something beautiful, something better. The grass was dewy and wet, the world looked as though it had been reborn that morning.

Mirima loved being out there before anyone else. She loved it when she could breathe in the fresh air and not worry about it being polluted by other people yet. Everything felt fresh, clear. She could clear her mind for once. Let go of everything that bothered her. She didn't worry about not being part of the cadre when she was focused on how beautiful the morning looked, how she wanted nothing more than to just be present.

She took one of the knives from her belt, flipping it once in her hand. It was a perfect weight. She could balance it on the tip of her fingers. Rowan had given it to her years ago, on a birthday. One that he'd actually remembered.

The blade itself was made of steel and was almost as long as her forearm, just lacking an inch and a half. The hilt was the most stunning feature. Gold and onyx entwined to create small flowers with tiny rubies making up the center of each. Rowan had said nothing when he gave it to her but she liked to think that it had just reminded him of her in some way. Wishful thinking but Mirima didn't care.

She had to be making some impression on Rowan.

She gripped the knife, her hold mimicking the one Rowan had been trying to drill into her head for years. He often grew frustrated with the way she would go back to what felt natural, showing her just how wrong she was with a sharp tap on her wrist. At that point, she was certain that she was fucking it up if only to see the annoyance in his eyes. She liked that look on him. When he regretted ever giving Mirima a chance when he debated throwing her in a lake because of her mouth.

It was better than when he was fully angry with her.

Her body moved in the fluid motions that Rowan had taught her. Her eyes closing, her knife another part of her arm, her breaths even, the world right for once in her life. Her thoughts were no longer cluttered, just going through Rowan's instructions in her mind had been enough to calm her. She'd never tell him so. He would have been proud of himself or annoyed with her.

Up. Down. Guard your left. Right. Dodge. Roll. Again.

She heard his voice in her head almost as though he was standing right beside her. She relished the feeling, the sensation of knowing that she was doing something right. Something that she would do every single day of her life when she was in the cadre. She would have to thank him one day.

It just wouldn't be any time soon.

A low whistle brought her back to reality. She did not know how long he had been watching but she knew he had seen enough. Mirima straightened her spine, a smug look painted on her face as she turned on her heel.

Fenrys was more handsome than Rowan had ever dreamed of being. His hair was pulled up, with two strands falling pleasantly into his face. His skin was dark and he was slight of build, but the muscles on his arms were well-defined and she could imagine them in the middle of a killing field. While Rowan's face was covered with his tattoo, Fenrys' was mostly clear, his eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked as though he was part of an inside joke with himself.

Mirima hated how much she wanted to impress him. Hated how fun he seemed to be with just that one look.

"I don't see why I'm here," he stated as he peeled himself off of the tree he had been leaning against. "Rowan's got you training on your own already."

A slight blush crossed Mirima's cheeks at this. "Actually, he doesn't know how early I start my day. I didn't think he'd like knowing just how much I tend to ... overexert myself."

"Trust me, Rowan already knows everything that you do," Fenrys stated as he stepped towards her. His eyes trailed from the top of her head to her feet. He was scrutinizing everything that had ever made Mirima. She tried not to think if he was impressed by what he saw or if he was certain that she was useless. A waste of his and Rowan's time. She often feared that they would all see her as a fraud. As someone who would never be welcomed into their ranks. "Rowan's told us all about you. How quick you are to anger, how you refuse to listen to him and go home. He said you've had more burnouts than anyone he's ever met before.

"I know that he thinks you're reckless and that you don't have any sense of self-preservation," Fenrys walked around her, his eyes never once leaving her, as he spoke. There was a tension in him that she didn't expect. "I'm sure that he's found every single weakness of yours and used it against you at this point. Am I correct?"

She bristled at the accusation, her spine straighter than what should have been possible. "He has. Multiple times, in very different ways."

Something sparked in his eyes, something that she had seen once before. When she had looked in her mother's eyes before she had left to deal with the raiders all those years before. It was a mixture of pride and determination. Mirima had never been sure what it meant. She still wasn't.

"Good," Fenrys stopped circling her. "That tells me you don't scare easily. If you can handle quality time with Whitethorn, you're bound to be something. Perhaps not a fit for the cadre, but something we need."

Need. That one word brought forth a strong feeling of hope in her breast. She had never been told that she was needed before. Not for anything that mattered. Doranelle would need her. Maeve would need her. Hellas, even Rowan would need her if what Fenrys said was true. She was going to be exactly what they needed, who they would look up to. Mirima would be the hero that would be in all the stories. She'd show everyone just what a woman could do.

There had been warrior queens and lost princesses but there had never been someone that other girls could look up to. All her life, Mirima had heard tales of men gaining glory and victory. They saved damsels, fought wars in the name of what was true and just. Queen Maeve had always celebrated those men while ignoring the women who could do the exact same. She knew that she could be just as good as any of those men. She could rise up from the bottom and show just who a girl could be.

It was the only thing she'd ever wanted.

"However," Fenrys brought her back down to the world with just one word. "We do need to work on your control. Burning out in the middle of a battle will do you no good. We can't have our sister dying on her first outing."

He grinned at her. Not the feral dangerous grin that she had come to associate with Rowan. It was kind, bright even. Something that made her feel as though she were at home. She wondered what Rowan would say if she told him that she preferred Fenrys' smile. It was perhaps better to keep that conversation in her head.

"How do we do that?"

"Stand in the middle of the clearing," Fenrys instructed her, heading back to his tree. He sat down at the base of it, still and unblinking as though he were just another part of the forest that surrounded them. "I don't want you to do anything. Just stand there and listen. Take in every wingbeat of every insect, every beat of your heart. I want you to try and focus on your heartbeats while you're doing this. Slow, steady. You should be able to make yourself still."

Mirima looked at him for a moment. What in the hell did any of that mean? It sounded like nonsense. Focusing her heartbeats? Slowing them down? How was any of that supposed to help her with her control issues?

While she did question the whole thing, she knew better than to question her trainer. If he told Rowan, she was certain to have a punishment of some sort. Probably laps. Rowan knew how she hated them. She took a deep breath through her nose, disregarding her thoughts of Rowan Whitethorn and the laps he could potentially make her run.

Her eyes fluttered to a close. Every part of her body felt as though this was wrong. She shouldn't have just been standing there. She could have been working on her swordplay. She could have been working on the footwork that she was supposed to be learning. Listening for the bees that were fat with the pollen from the summer flowers was not something she had wanted to do. Why should she care about any of this? She was a warrior, not a farmer.

"Don't think negatively," his voice seemed to float through the air to her. "I can feel it from here. Just relax your mind and do as I've told you."

Mirima did not answer him, knowing it was not what he wanted. She focused on the sound of the wind in the trees. The way the leaves gently rustled together, the branches making a soft creaking noise that she normally wouldn't have noticed. She could hear the sea. So far away, yet always calling to her. The waves crashing along the shoreline. Pebbles scratching against each other when the water moved them. Sand turning to mush, the cry of a seabird. Mirima craved being there, craved feeling the water on her bare feet. Not a day went by that she didn't crave the ocean.

Her fingers twitched, her knife falling to the ground beside her. The water rushing in her ears and making it hard to hear the insects busying lazily by her head or the trees swaying gently in the breeze. Her heartbeat followed the motion of the waves. She could feel it slowing to match the lazy tide of the early morning. It was not an uncomfortable feeling but one that she welcomed.

She had often felt as though her home was the sea. The ocean breathed life into her. She had been blessed with the gift of water and yet, she still didn't know how to control it. Perhaps it was because one could not control water. The sea did not like to be tamed. Just as Mirima hated for anyone to try and control her. It had been so hard to learn to listen to Rowan. To learn to do as she was told. She still hadn't learned that lesson.

A voice spoke softly from somewhere. Her name, softly as though it was poetry. Rowan's face flashed briefly in her mind before being drowned out by another crashing wave.

Her fingers twitched once more. Something cold crept through the leather of her boots, touching her toes.

None of it mattered though. All that mattered was the way the sea was calling to her. The currents dancing for her and her alone. She wanted to be in the middle of it all. She could control the ocean. She could feel it in her bones. She ached to use the power that was deep inside of her. It was as though she could not breathe unless she was in the water, as if her lungs craved water instead of oxygen.

"Mirima," that voice again. Persistent this time. Repeating her name again and again. "Mirima."

"Rowan," she breathed out as a hand grasped her arm. It was not tight enough to be Rowan. It was loose, as though they were afraid of touching her.

"Mirima, come out of it." The voice didn't match Rowan's. Didn't match the person she had put all of her trust in.

It was too much effort to open her eyes, to break her connection to the sea. But she did it.

Fenrys stood in front of her, his hands on her arms and his face more amused than concerned. Her feet were freezing, the breeze smelled differently. The sky had begun to lighten, pink marking the sky in the place of the grey that had filled the valley just a few minutes before. Had it only been minutes? She felt as though she had been there for days.

Slowly, she glanced down to see what was causing her feet to be so cold. Water had seeped up from the ground, a few inches covering the ground that surrounded her. Mirima had no clue how she had done it without thinking. She had no idea what she had done.

Maybe Fenrys was right about something. Maybe his techniques just worked better than Rowan's.

"Well, you weren't supposed to do that," he said, one of his brows quirked upwards. "But I can't say I'm surprised. Maybe next time Rowan makes you do something stupid, you'll be able to channel it."

Mirima rolled her eyes, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "Rowan's training isn't stupid."

"You're making shields of water, aren't you?"

"Yes. But that's integral to keeping control!" Mirima protested. Fenrys only shook his head.

"We don't use our abilities as shields. Well, Lorcan does on occasion but Lorcan's also the worst," he stated as he led her away from the drenched grounds. "Rowan's trying to prepare you for something but I doubt it's the cadre. He has your interests in mind, don't think otherwise." She watched as he grabbed a low-hanging tree branch and hauled himself up. "But that doesn't mean he's going to actually help you get what you want. No one should strive to be one of us."

"What is with the two of you?" Mirima demanded as she hoisted herself to sit on the branch beside him. "It's like neither of you can deal with the idea that a woman can be just as good as you."

"This has nothing to do with your gender. You've got more fight inside of you than most soldiers I know," Fenrys stated as he looked at her. His expression was too full of pity for her to stand. "You could do so much better than all of this."

"No, I can't," Mirima stared out at the clearing, watching as the water drained away slowly. "My gender has everything to do with this. When they see me, they see a woman who should be at home. Having children and mending socks. They don't see a warrior. They don't see me."

He looked at her then, looked at her as though she was something other than a woman sitting beside him on a tree branch. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Mirima had never felt exposed before. Rowan certainly had never looked at her as though she were anything. Fenrys was making her quite anxious, scared that he would run back to the others and tell them all about the woman who assumed she was good enough to be welcomed into their ranks. She doubted any of them would find it within them to want her after her show.

"I should go," she cleared her throat as she moved to drop down from the tree. Mirima landed on the balls of her feet, the squelching sound revealing that the ground had turned to mud. "Kitchen duties."

Mirima did not wait to be released from her training. She turned on her heel and headed back to the fort. She spent the entire walk thinking over everything that Fenrys had seen, everything that he had heard. She was mortified. Speaking like that in front of Rowan was one thing. But Fenrys? That was another. She knew better than to speak her mind around her superiors. She knew better than to leave before her training was over. Yet she had done both. She'd never live this down. She'd just proven that she would never be the type of person they welcomed into their ranks. Fenrys had said they didn't want her.

What was the point of continuing to fight? What was the point of trying to be someone she wasn't? Would Rowan even notice if she was gone when he came back? She doubted it. He'd probably use her absence as an excuse to return home.

As the would-be-warrior walked away from him, Fenrys watched her closely. Even with the sting of humiliation, she never let her shoulders droop. Her hand remained on the hilt of her blade. Her head was held high, no one would ever be able to tell that she was spending her day questioning herself and her choices.

"I see you."

#rowan whitethorn #rowan x oc #rowan whitethorn x oc #rowan is running out of patience #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass oc #mirima floros #mirima is trying #soulmate #are they soulmates or are they both just depressed #fenrys moonbeam

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goneseriesanalysis · 3 years

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Astrid Ellison

So here are my opinions on Astrid Ellison from book 1. Astrid was the character on which my opinion changed the most, which is why it’s taken me so long to get my thoughts together. Sorry for the length again but it seems I have a talent for ✨rambling✨

Spoilers for Gone by Michael Grant down below

Original Opinion: Astrid was one of my least favourite characters. I remember finding her irritating and self-righteous and honestly couldn’t think of a single good thing to say about her.

New Opinion: Astrid was my favourite character in this book. She had moments where I found her slightly irritating - but I think that was Michael struggling to right a smart character more than anything else. She was so kind and brave and not at all like the emotionless and manipulative girl that I remember hating at the grand age of 14.

1.) Astrid’s appearance - Astrid is one of the better described characters in Gone. In the first chapter we find out that she “had shoulder-length blonde hair, and liked to wear starched white short-sleeved blouses that never failed to catch Sam’s eye.” This description immediately establishes her as Sam’s love interest, from her being the first character to get a proper description to Sam’s clear infatuation with her. This is perhaps one of the reasons why I’m not a huge fan of their relationship – it was obvious from page 3 that they were going to end up together. We get three other main descriptions of Astrid throughout the book that really stood out to me:

“Her normally sharp, discerning blue eyes were wide, with way too much white showing” – Chapter 1

“She sat in the big white wicker rocker with her feet propped up on the railing. Her bare legs were blazing white in the sunshine.” – Chapter 20

“The starched white blouses of the pre-FAYZ had given way to t-shirts” – Chapter 28

What really stood out to me in these descriptions is the repeated use of the colour white. Now, in religion white is symbolic of faith, innocence and sacrifice, all of which really seem to fit the characterisation of Astrid. She has a lot of faith in the beginning, not only in God but also in herself. She is relatively confident in who she is and in her place in the world. As the book continues, however, she begins to lose this faith. As she sacrifices more of her time to the care of Little Pete (I really don’t like how Michael constantly treated him as a burden but that is a topic for another post), she becomes less and less confident in her faith and begins to resent what she has become.

As for Astrid’s innocence, I believe this is more of an insight into how Sam views her as opposed to how she actually is. Astrid is intelligent and brave and caring (although a lot of the time I think she struggles to show it) – but is she innocent?? I don’t think so, at least not in the traditional sense. She has grown up as a parent, been forced to mature faster than other children her age. She is Little Pete’s constant defender, and I think in this way Sam underestimates her. As the book continues, he begins to see this, with her staple white blouses transforming into t-shirts, he begins to see her for who she is.

2.) Astrid’s Personality and Character - Aside from Astrid’s intelligence and religious beliefs, Astrid has a very well-rounded personality. She is brave and kind-hearted but seems somewhat socially inept, meaning that the softer side of her personality is often hidden by her cool exterior. (I think there is a possibility that Astrid is autistic-coded but I don’t know enough about the topic to develop this point past mere observation). She takes on the role of a mother to Little Pete and this calmer, kinder, and more protective side of Astrid is often shown in small moments throughout the books. Astrid is the first person to offer comfort to Quinn when he realises his parents are missing, and it is only once she does this that Quinn finally allows himself to fall apart (Chapter 2). She places a hand on his shoulder and for the first night is the one who hears out Quinn’s wild theories, instead of shooting them down (cough cough Sam).

Her relationship with Little Pete is a complicated one. While she often seems resentful about her new position as a guardian, it feels like her resentment towards Little Pete is a way for her to mask her anger at things that are beyond her control. She is furious that the FAYZ has left her without parents, and is even more furious because she can’t truly understand why it has happened. So, to stop these feelings of helplessness, she targets her resentment towards the person she is closest do (as most of us unfortunately do when we feel this way). But despite her anger, her unconditional love always wins out. And this is one of the things I absolutely adored about her when re-reading. Despite her often feeling trapped by her new role in Little Pete’s life, she is still willing to distance herself from Sam, Edilio and Quinn (who are, as far as we know, the closest thing she has to friends) in order to keep him safe. She realises that Little Pete caused the FAYZ in chapter 11 and, even when Sam confronts her, her first move is to defend LP – she is not concerned with what they think of her, only with the safety of her brother.

Further on in the book, after Drake forces her to call Little Pete a slur, she is horrified with herself. She gives almost no thought to the pain she went through stating that “now she was far more angry at herself than she had ever been at him.” I think this really just shows how devoted Astrid is to her brother and, when you remember that she is only 14 it really is amazing how strong she forces herself to be for him. I began to notice on this read through just how much she neglects her own emotions and wellbeing in favour of protecting others (she even shields LP with her own body when the church collapses on top of them and we get no indication as to how injured SHE is). Once again her thoughts are only on her brother. While I wish she had made more of an effort to communicate with Little Pete in a way that he could understand (the few times she does this in the book, he does respond well and it would have been interesting to develop this side of their relationship more, rather than just the one sided protector/protected dynamic), when you think about her age and the trauma that she must be experiencing, I think she does exceptionally well to stay so kind, patient and collected for the majority of the time.

One thing that really surprised me the most when revisiting Astrid’s character was her immense bravery. This is a huge part of her character that I had completely forgotten about, leading me to remember her as little more than a typical damsel in distress. While she often uses her intelligence as a defence mechanism, such as in Chapter 15 when she stands up to Diana, in times when a verbal smack down is inappropriate, she is perfectly willing to put herself in danger in order to protect those that she cares about. We first see this in chapter 10 when she breaks up the fight on the highway. We see it again when Panda and Quinn attack Little Pete, with one of my favourite quotes of the whole book, “Did you throw a rock at my brother?’ Astrid yelled. Fearless in her outrage.” It reminds me so much of the Frankenstein quote “I am fearless and therefore powerful” and was the point in the book where my past prejudices got completely wiped away and were replaced by my new love for her. She cares so much about people, and gets hardly any recognition for it. I just want to give her a hug 😥

Another thing I noticed about Astrid, which I thinks fit’s in really well with the idea of her being this awkward social outcast (I mean did she even have any friends before??) is that while many pop culture references are made by a variety of characters, Astrid makes multiple references to historical figures:

“Patrick was named for Patrick Star, the not-very-bright character on Spongebob” – Lana’s pov Chapter 2

“It’s like a roadrunner cartoon” – Quinn Chapter 9

“I’ll bet you’re one of those brainy Lisa Simpson types” – Diana Chapter 14

“Let me guess, you’re secretly a wizard who was raised by muggles.” – Sam Chapter 21

“And this isn’t exactly the time for me to consult Yoda on how to use my power” – Sam Chapter 26

“..an ornate, heavy iron thing that Coates kids joked was the tenth Nazgul” – Jack’s pov Chapter 32

“Too bad Dr Phil’s not around.” – Diana 39

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” – Astrid Chapter 5

“To understand this you’d have to be Einstein or Heisenburg or Feynman, on that level” – Astrid Chapter 13

“Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I forgot who said it.” – Astrid Chapter 17

I don’t have much else to say about this other than I find it quite interesting and I think it perfectly highlights how Astrid never quite fits in, no matter how hard she tries.

3.) Astrid’s Intelligence - Astrid’s intelligence is mainly used for world building throughout the first book. It is from Astrid that we learn the full story of the power plant incident, learn that the barrier is a dome and are introduced to the idea of animal mutations, as well as many theories about the outside world/ what caused the FAYZ (although those last theories are a misdirection on her part). This works well for the most part as it means that important information can be spaced evenly throughout the book, without the need for info-dumps. However, sometimes Michael’s attempts to showcase Astrid’s intelligence were, I think, a little on the nose and took me out of the story. The worst offender for this, in my opinion, is in chapter 2 with the line “Is that meant to be a pro forma reassurance or a specific commitment?” This is a really nit-picky complaint but this line just really bugged me as it seemed like he was making her smart for the sake of being smart and it kind of came off as annoying. I know one of her character flaws is her social awkwardness but this just felt too much. I love the way she over-explains and over-analyses things when she’s nervous, and I think her constant referencing to things that the other characters just don’t understand perfectly demonstrate this flaw, but lines like this seemed a little irritating and obnoxious.

The secondary use for Astrid’s intelligence in this book is as her primary line of defence. Her intellect is something that she prides herself on, but it is also something that separates her from everyone else. People are intimidated by her, and, as a result, she has learned to use her intelligence as a weapon when necessary. This is clearly seen in chapter 14, when Diana tries to intimidate her and Astrid immediately starts asking Diana questions about the cause of the FAYZ (questions that she knows Diana has no answer to). It’s later seen in chapter 22. When Drake begins to bully Astrid into calling LP a slur, she fights back by explaining that said slur is outdated; explaining the meaning of it; and then explaining how it does not fit LP anyway. While she knows that she cannot use her physical strength, her intellect is something that she can weaponise in certain situations in order to protect herself and those she loves. Her proficiency in this tactic also leads me to believe that Astrid has probably been in similar situations before. Everyone in Perdido Beach seems to know about LP. Is that why she has no friends?? Has she distanced herself from her peers in order to protect LP from their ignorance, whether consciously or not??

4.) Astrid and Religion - I don’t have as much to say about this, as I’m not religious myself and have very little understanding of Christianity (Or Catholicism – I’m actually not sure which Astrid is meant to be so if anyone knows I would appreciate it), but I feel like this is a such a huge part of who Astrid is that I had to at least mention it. One thing that I do like is Astrid’s seemingly constant battle between her scientific beliefs and her religious beliefs. While she does believe in God, she won’t accept him as an explanation for the FAYZ, and still looks for a scientific answer. Her relationship with religion seems to act as more of a moral guideline rather than a fundamental belief system. She looks to God for guidance and support in times of trouble, such as at Bette’s funeral (Chapter 17), as she is being chased by Drake (Chapter 24) and when the church is collapsed on top of her (Chapter 45) and seems to be convinced that her morality is directly tied to her faith. However, she relies on facts (things she can explain and control) for true comfort, and doesn’t allow her faith to interfere with her action. I think these ideas are perfectly encompassed by this quote from Chapter 40 “No. I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out our own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will.” – And I am quite excited to see how her faith/ loss of faith changes her perceptions in the later books.

5.) Astrid’s Role in The Book - For the most part, Astrid has three main roles in this book:

- To act as LP’s protector

-To act as a source of plot-relevant and world building information to the reader

-To be Sam’s main motivation is becoming the leader

And this, in my opinion, is a phenomenal waste. Astrid was the perfect candidate for the leader of the FAYZ, and giving the role to Sam made no sense?? I think what Michael was trying to do was suggest that Sam had to be the leader instead of Astrid because, while Astrid is the intelligent one who knows how to work people, Sam is the one who people look to when things go wrong. (Think of Katniss and Peeta’s dynamic in The Hunger Games). But, it just doesn’t work. For one, we know that what the people of Perdido Beach think has very little effect on leadership. There was no uproar when Caine took over. Were people scared and upset?? Yes. Did they run to Sam’s aid and rebel against Caine?? No. So why should it matter whether they prefer Sam to Astrid – Sam could still be the hero without being the leader. In fact, I think it would have made both characters so much better if this was the case. Also we know that in times of crisis, people DO look to Astrid. Albert’s cat anyone?? Furthermore, Astrid’s ability to use her intellect to play on people’s emotions is a much better match for Caine’s easy charm than Sam with his flame throwers. I mean please. Astrid has a cool and intimidating exterior that actually hides a well of deep emotions that she can pull from and use to manipulate people into doing things they never thought they were capable of (we mostly see this work with Sam in this book during the fire, chapter 4, and the first time he controls his powers, chapter 28). Caine has an easy going and charming exterior that hides his lack of empathy, allowing him to use people for his own gain as he sees them as expendable. They are such PERFECTLY MATCHED OPPOSITES. But no. Michael wanted the leader to be Sam because?? Fire?? Ugh. Even when the question of who will take over if Sam poofs comes up in chapter 40, NOBODY EVEN MENTIONS HER. Astrid suggests that Edilio takes over and that’s that. (With that being said I do find it interesting that Astrid basically chose both the leader AND the backup leader but still. Let her live up to her full potential Michael.)

I think I’ve pretty much covered the first two bullet points in other sections but I’ll just quickly mention her part in Sam becoming the leader. It’s very clear from the fire onwards that Sam being in charge is Astrid’s main goal. Is this so that Sam can protect her?? Maybe. Idk. But it kind of frustrates me that she is broken down into Sam’s love interest towards the end, rather than coming into her own role. We are constantly shown that she is the main reason that Sam is becoming the leader, and this is even explicitly stated when Sam tells his mother/the gaiphage that he has “someone I have to stay here for” – chapter 46. I think the book should have ended with Astrid taking on her own role (as the leader obvs but I would have settled for something smaller or, you know, ANYTHING), instead of her just becoming Caine’s human shield. I do have more to say on this topic but I feel like it falls more into the relationship category so I’ll leave that for a later post.

And I’m not even going to talk about her powers past saying: what was the reason?? As far as I can gather Michael wanted a reason for Astrid being so insistent about Sam taking on the role of leader and so gave her a weird power and then decided hmm no.

Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear all of your thoughts on Astrid. I think I’m going to do Caine next but who knows.

#the gone series #astrid ellison #Gone

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witchofrvnswood · 3 years

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awwp rant pt. 2: the characters!

oh boy we’re finally back with part 2!

so in part 1, i discussed plot points that i found troubling and nonsensical. this time, i’m talking about the characters and how they each pissed me off <3

note: am only doing the ones i have beef with, everyone else is cool

let’s start with sophie:

sophie

i’ll be honest, i’ve been conflicted on her character in this book for quite some time. but i think i understand my opinion on her in book 2 much better now that i’ve really thought about it.

so this is the book where she’s probably at her most vulnerable (book 3 could be a contender too). she just lost her mind, killed many people, and is trying so hard to prove that she is good and deny everything that she had done the previous year. we also see why she behaves the way she does, with losing her mother at a young age and blaming her father for neglecting them. we understand why she goes so far to obtain love and why she ranks true love above everything else.

but her methods with dealing with this is toxic. she sees agatha as a tool for a happy ending, and it seems to come more out of desperation to belong with someone, then wanting agatha herself, as she easily dropped her for rafal and then tedros in book three. she does whatever she can to ensure agatha chooses her and only her much like tedros does in this book.

she sneaks out and follows agatha, makes agatha believe tedros tried to hurt her, comforted her and claimed she had “warned agatha” but also acted super forgiving as if agatha was the one who was in the wrong for doubting her and when the truth comes out, pins it all on agatha for trying to choose someone besides. her. now, agatha is not completely in the right in this situation, but what sophie does is so manipulative and cunning. without knowing her backstory and sympathizing with her, she would easily be soon as a cruel and toxic person.

her time as filip was very humbling for her and she realized what she did was completely wrong and she begans to sympathize with tedros and realize maybe he isn’t the villain of the story like she painted him to be. of course, this goes a bit far and she finds herself attracted to him.... which..... did not need to happen considering how toxic their relationship was in book 1.

at the end, she chose rafal out of desperation to be loved, showing she still hasn’t changed and ended up staying with him as he supposedly was the only person in the world who still loved her. (wrong very wrong he’s awful but we’ll get to that later-)

tedros

bro. broooooo. when i tell you i wanted to throw the darn book when i read his scenes in the first half of the book-

when dovey was explaining tedros’ actions after sophie and agatha left, i could not believe it, i thought she had to be joking because no way does an individual overreact to THAT point.

he literally wanted to murder sophie as revenge for taking agatha away from him?? what?? is he mentally okay? i understand seeing her as a barrier between them because, yeah, he’s always been insecure cause his dad’s best friend stole his mom away from him so that must’ve hit a nerve, but agatha willingly went with sophie. why does he need to hurt sophie over this? it’s up to agatha who she chooses, not sophie. and she chose him! she told him right to his face that she chose him and he’s still like “no we have to kill sophie first-” sir-

not to mention how generally messed up this message is? tedros claims that you can’t be in a relationship and have friends at the same time. what?? why is this in the book? why is this even a theme? of course you should be able to have friends and have a relationship, when did that suddenly become impossible?

“I let her live last time and she took you! I can’t make the same mistake, Agatha. I can’t lose you again!” (Chapter 12). this is basically tedros trying to cut off agatha’s friendship because he knows she’s close with sophie and is worried she’ll choose her over him and he sees his only solution to this to be killing sophie. honestly, if i were agatha, i would be fucking terrified of him, like when i was reading it i was thinking “run from this relationship please-”

which sucks because i’m a huge tagatha fan but they were undeniably toxic in this book for me.

in the second half though, that’s when i started feeling bad for him because he genuinely thought he got betrayed by agatha too and ugh that killed me bc after her, he had no hope for happiness left and that’s why he turned to revenge, but the moment he freed the teachers, he got locked up, starved, beaten, and tortured which is ??

i wouldn’t wish that on anyone (except aric lawl) and god he did not deserve that i felt so horrible for him. everyone turned against him, the entire school hated him, he fully believed his true love betrayed him, and he got beaten by aric every single night. as much as i despised him before this point, he did not deserve any of that and i’m so glad filip came when he? she? did because yeah it’s tophie all over again (yikes) but he REALLY needed a friend then and i’m so happy he got one.

ONLY TO GET BETRAYED BY HIM AGAIN RIP. sorry that was not needed but ahem

i was so so happy when he realized agatha never lied and ended up going home with her, as much as i hated the ending, i was happy for him and only him, boy’s been through too much.

but overall, i’d say i dislike him as a character in this book but i also felt super bad for him?? book 2 is so complicated y’all i have so many mixed feelings about everyone in this book.

agatha

okay. so. i keep going back and forth between being fucking annoyed at her and feeling bad for her which i feel is an understandable summary of how she is in this book.

her being scared of sophie - i completely understand that. i’d be surprised if she wasn’t. this is a girl who tried to kill her, tore her down, and went batshit crazy just nine months ago and is now suddenly calm but there’s still a bad vibe to her? and she chose her over someone who finally treated her well, finally saw her as an equal, and showed her that she doesn’t have to bear so much burden just to be loved back.

but i honestly felt kind of annoyed at how she automatically, no hesitation wanted to stay with tedros forever and never look back. um. honey. let’s break this down. we’re talking about a boy she has had no contact with for nine months, wasn’t even in a solid relationship with before she left, and said boy probably has beef with her for leaving him in the first place. and she feels completely fine with sneaking into his school and telling him she wants to be with him forever the SAME day she got back.

what??? is??? this???

this is the same agatha who berated sophie for trying to get with tedros the same day she met him without even knowing him well, right? the same agatha who you’d expect to be smart and think through emotional decisions like these, right? did they replace her personality what???

i get the coven pushed her to meet him immediately but this was just so poorly planned out and so tactless i can’t help but judge her sorry hun.

after that she makes herself believe sophie is good and perfect and maybe this is just her lying to herself because she’s mad at herself for choosing tedros but reading about her talking about how sophie is so amazing and perfect and loves her more than anything compared to being ready to bolt at the sight of her was just so fake. can we talk about how fake their friendship in this book? how fake it is in general? i think wbk.

at the end she finds out sophie lied despite the obvious clues (the scim suit (WHY WOULD BEATRIX USE IT), the spirick marks on sophie’s wrist yada yada yada) and she dumps her ass for tedros and decides they’re staying together forever despite barely knowing him as a person not to mention he just tried to kill her um-

(where is the logic in this book please help me i can’t seem to find it-)

the coven

i’ll be honest: they annoyed the HELL out of me in this book. well, specifically anadil and hester. they pressured agatha to choose tedros and go to him on the first day she got back (BAD PLAN) all so they could return to normal,,, which i guess isn’t out of character for them to do anything to get what they want but it really wasn’t their business? or at least they had no right to be as pushy as they were.

not to mention how HORRIBLE they were to dot. oh my god. the way they treated her in this book was disgusting and the lowest point in their friendship. at first i passed it off as them being hurt that dot replaced them and were lashing out because they had no better way to deal with their problems, which is true but also?? let’s not forget they BULLIED dot so bad in their first year and even kicked her out and replaced her with sophie and as far as we know, they never apologized for it. can we really blame dot for wanting new and kinder friends?

but even then they persisted to isolate her from others, shut down her book club which she used to make friends, and ended up forcing herself to gain weight if she wanted to keep their friendship. y’all i don’t even think anyone realizes how toxic the coven can be at times, the books spend a lot of time solidifying their frienship to the point that it ignores how awful it was at first. and not to mention dot is used to this treatment as she’s been physically and emotionally abused by her father, so as much as she dislikes their treatment of her, she still sees them as her friends and she will do anything to keep them.

i’m glad dot has learned to stand up for herself and gave it back to hester in tlea but god was her and anadil’s treatment of her sickiening.

professor dovey

i did not like her scene in the beginning of this book. she was awful to agatha and sophie and kept tossing blame for how the woods changed on them and yelling at agatha for not choosing tedros - um, she had a split second to decide and her friend literally died and came back to life a minute ago, how was she expected to leave her?

i dunno the way she berated them really got on my nerves because they’re just 15 year olds? they didn’t ask for their story to be told or for their personal relationships to affect the entire world? yes, if it had to be pointed towards anyone, it’s them, but instead of comforting them and trying to help them find a way to fix this, she goes all pointing fingers and straight up saying it would be easier if sophie was dead (not gonna lie i had a good giggle when i read this part but if you think about, that’s actually really sickening).

i’ll be honest, i love professor dovey as a character but she just seemed so cruel in book 2 i mean i get she was super frustrated but these children are confused and distraught enough already? she’s their teacher, she’s supposed to look after them but instead she just insulted them and stressed them out.

as for lady lesso, yes she did the same, but that was pretty in character for her. yes, it was wrong of her, but idk it’s something you would expect from her and she’s known to be the type to be tough on her students, while dovey is just not like that at all. and also, dovey was WAY more mean and short-tempered in this mean, i have to say.

evelyn sader

she was... an interesting villain. super cunning super devious i really admired her except for her doing all of this toxic feminism bullshit (which was honestly already bad enough!) for rafal, A MAN. WHAT. how does that make ANY sense?

evelyn: #kam2020 make them boys your slaves we got this in the bag girls

also evelyn: omg rafal senpai notice me uwu i did all of this for you *gestures towards girls annihilating boys*

anyways her death was um... shocking. rip. or maybe not.

aric

do- do i have to go into this one? killing yara, torturing tedros, being misogynistic, honestly pick one, i just don’t have the energy to rip him apart for the thousandth time.

#the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #sge #schoolforgoodandevil #theschoolforgoodandevil #TWO WHOLE DAYS TO TYPE THIS BYE I AM TAKING A LONG LONG NAP #sorry if these were a bit harsh/too salty/made absolutely no sense i was gonna edit it but then i decided to Not because #idk my full unedited feelings are infinitely superior?

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super-unpredictable98 · 4 years

Text

Hard Candy (~Misfits AU~)

Chapter 1: Suck My ASBO

Warning: strong language, sexual content, mention of infidelity and alcohol

- So what are you saying, Nathan? We'll never see each other again? You don't like me anymore?

- I do, I like you a lot, but I can't do this, it was a mistake what we just did.

- It was just a kiss... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it, I just couldn't help myself, I'm too drunk for self-control.

- I know, I'm not proud of it, but... I liked it. We've been friends for so long and I tried to ignore it, cause last time with Kelly was just a disaster.

- I don't wanna lose my best friend.

- I know, I don't want it either, but the problem is that I actually like you.

- Then be with me! It doesn't have to be like this.

- I'm married, I have a family! I used to say I'd be a screw-up until my early thirties, but what would I tell Marnie? She can't be alone with Junior...

- Look, I'm not a homewrecker, but damn it, Nathan! I love you!

- I think I might love you too, but I guess it's just a right person wrong time situation. We're in different moments of our lives, I know you're gonna find someone your age, I hope he's nicer and kinder than me. I’d say funnier, but that's a tall order... We both know that's unrealistic.

- I don't want just any bloke who's kind and nice, I want you.

- I want you too, Lollipop... That's why I think it's better if we don't talk anymore.

- So that's it? This is goodbye?

- I suppose it is. Maybe there's a life where we can be together, I'm sorry it didn't work out in this one...

- I'll find this life.

- When you do, please don't give up on me when I mess things up. I know I can be pretty stupid sometimes.

- Sometimes?

- Alright, most of the time... I'll never forget you, Lydia.

I shook my head trying to ignore that memory, it's already been two weeks since it happened, but I just couldn't stop thinking of how painful those words were.

I was heartbroken, but I would never say that out loud. I already hate myself enough for letting my guard down and falling in love, especially with someone like Nathan Young. I kissed him for God's sake! Why the fuck did I do that and ruin our friendship? Marnie was not my favorite person in the world, but I wouldn't want to hurt her like this... That's not the type of person I am.

It felt like he was trying to tell me something, one thing he said never stopped haunting me... "When you do", he didn't say "if you do", how was he so sure? That's when it hit me, I had no more tears left to cry, no more fucks to give, so I played my last card. Right person, wrong time you say? Then I'll make the time right.

Traveling back to 2009 was the hardest part. It took me a while to find someone willing to pass the power on to me and even longer to save the money for it. Once I figured that out, I just had to find a job, somewhere to live and, well... Get myself arrested and sentenced to community service.

I wish I asked Nathan more questions about his past, this way it would be so easy to just swoop in and have him fall in love with me. I don't know much about his life before we met, but if he fell for me once, I can make it happen again, right? Maybe it's better this way, no lies, no manipulation. If he likes me, he likes me.

I got into my orange jumpsuit and thanked God for my hair being teal and purple, at least the colors matched. I put on some lipstick and unzipped the suit just enough to show some cleavage, nothing too extreme.

- It's showtime... - I smiled at myself.

I left the locker room and followed the voices to the front door, everyone was already there.

- Sorry, I'm late - I made my way to the line of young offenders.

As soon as I came in, I recognized each one of them. I have been spending countless nights drinking, watching movies, partying, and talking to those guys in the future, they are some of my best friends. It felt really weird to be in front of these peole, seeing how different they look, knowing none of them has a clue of who I am.

Nathan was as handsome as ever, his hair was a huge mess of curls. Why the hell would he ever cut it? Don't get me wrong, he does look cute in the future, but this hair made him a billion times hotter. I couldn't stop myself from imagining how it must be like running my fingers through it.

His young, beardless face was like a breath of fresh air, every single part of my body felt his presence, longing for his touch... I wanted to hug him, to hold his hand, anything that could cure this abstinence, but it's not that easy.

I don't even know if he will like me! Maybe the only reason why he said he liked me was because he was entering his almost-30-year crisis or something and having a 20-year-old girl all over him made him feel younger.

- So thoughtful of you to join us - the probation worker said sarcastically - I won't tolerate this behavior.

- Alright, won't happen again.

- As I was saying, you can really make a difference in people's lives. That's what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you're scum, you have an opportunity to show them they're wrong.

- Yeah, but what if they're right? - Nathan asked.

I looked down, letting my hair hide the huge smile that took over my face, there he was... Just the way I remember, in all his mocking glory.

- No offense - he continued and looked suggestively at the kid by his side - but I'm thinkin’ some people are just born criminals.

I didn't know this one. Actually, I didn't even notice he was there until that moment.

- You lookin' to get stabbed? - He mumbled.

- See my point there? - Nathan looked back at the probation worker, I faintly remember his name being Tony, which his nametag confirmed.

- Hi - Alisha had just picked up her phone, typical...

- Doesn't matter what you've done in the past - Tony tried to continue.

- Doing my community service - Alisha mumbled.

- Hey! - He tried to get her attention.

- Boring as fuck...

- Excuse me, hello? I'm still talking here.

- I thought you'd finished.

- You see my lips still moving? That means I'm still talking.

- Yeah, but you could've been yawnin’, or chewin’... - Nathan looked up.

- He's got a point - I said under my breath, not wanting to get in more trouble after already being late.

Tony made Alisha end her phone call and went back to his ridiculous motivational speech. Honestly, I literally wanted to be there, I traveled nearly a decade in time to be there and that fucking pep talk made me wanna blow my brains out.

- You alright there, weird kid? - Nathan waved at Simon.

It bothered me slightly that he was being so mean for no reason. What did Simon even do? He was tidy and quiet, is that a crime? I remember when I used to be like that in secondary school, people would just hate me for the fun of it, not even caring about my feelings. I did everything I possibly could to change who I was after school, but Simon was braver, he stuck to his ways.

Nathan, not done with his tomfoolery, turned to the other guy, the one I wasn't familiar with, and blew him a kiss. It took every single ounce of willpower in me not to burst out laughing.

- I'll rip at your throat and shit down your neck - the new guys said.

- Isn't that just making him eat shit with extra steps? - I looked at him intrigued.

- I shouldn't be here, man... - Curtis shook his head.

- Look we need to work as a team here... - Tony started - Hey, that's enough.

I looked over Curtis' shoulder and saw the new kid had Nathan by the collar, he was yanking him while Nathan just kept making stupid remarks and teasing even further.

- Can I move to a different group? This isn't gonna work for me - Curtis looked at us with disgust and I rolled my eyes.

- What makes you think that you're better than us? - Kelly folded her arms.

- What is that accent? - Nathan turned to her, ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of a fight.

- Is that for real? - Curtis chuckled.

- You tryin' to say somethin', yeah? - She countered.

- It's... You... That's just a noise - Nathan kept pushing, one of his specialties - are we supposed to be able to understand her?

- D’you understand that? - Kelly flipped him off.

- I think she likes me... - Nathan waggled his brows and put an arm around the new kid.

The guy lost it and restarted the fight, grabbing Nathan's collar again. I gave up on trying to keep a low profile and laughed as I watched that ridiculous display. Nathan looked at me when he heard it and smirked.

Tony had to separate them and take the new kid inside, he had quite the short fuse by the looks of it. Both boys were screaming at each other, Nathan was pretending to throw punches and shit, but I knew deep inside he was glad the fight was over.

- You like that, huh? - Nathan looked at me - Lollipop.

I froze, my eyes teared up and goosebumps spread all over my body with the mention of that nickname. He used to call me that because of my colorful hair and my personality that, according to him, was too sweet for my own good.

- You're always like that? - I asked, already knowing the answer.

- Like what? Handsome and manly?

- Like a rooster in the middle of a cockfight.

- I'm takin’ that as a compliment - he bit his lip.

- Let's get moving! It's not a tea party! - Tony shouted from the door.

- What are we doing anyway? - I sighed.

- We're supposed to paint benches - Curtis rolled his eyes.

- Wow, exciting... - I scoffed.

I went to the storage room to grab some paint brushes, everyone else was taking care of the buckets and the cans.

- Hey, lanky kid! Can you help me reach that? - I called.

- What? Me? - Nathan pointed at himself.

- Who else here is lanky? - I teased.

- How dare you? I'm gracefully tall - he said, making his way to me.

Nathan reached with his long arm to pick up the brushes, it was too easy for him.

- Thank you...

- Nathan - he handed them to me and looked down to meet my eyes.

- Thanks, Nathan - I said, doing my best to sound unphased after his gaze essentially penetrated my soul.

Turns out painting benches is not as bad as it sounds, it's actually pretty therapeutic, I kneeled by Simon who was, surprise surprise, alone.

- Hi - I looked at him, it was really weird introducing myself to them - I'm Lydia.

- Simon - he couldn't look me in the eye, I don't know if he was scared or embarrassed.

- Nice to meet you - I offered my hand for him to shake, it took him a few seconds to take it.

- Nice to meet you too.

He was taken back by the fact that I was giving him the time of day. If only he knew how many times we sat by the river laughing and talking for hours and hours until the sun came up... He was probably the person that knew me the most out of them.

I looked at what the others were doing: Alisha was flirting with Curtis, which I guess made sense, at this time they are supposed to be a couple. Nathan was annoying Kelly, as usual...

- Aw, man! There's paint on my cap! This is bullshit! - The new kid stormed out, kicking a bucket and a shopping cart on the way.

- Wow - I looked at Simon - this guy has a fire under his arse or something...

- I guess - he muttered, focusing on the task, seems like it would take a little bit longer to get Si out of his shell.

- So I'm guessin’... Shoplifting? - Nathan pointed at Kelly with his brush - No?

- Don't act like you know me, cuz you don't - she replied.

- I'm just makin’ conversation, this is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swappin’ tips, brainstormin’...

- Great, I didn't know I was in the delinquent convention - I laughed.

- It could be! - Nathan seemed to actually consider the idea - I like your style...

- So, wanna be in charge of our first panel, Kel? - I held the brush in front of her as if it was a microphone.

- How'd you know my name? - She asked.

Oh, fuck... I knew I was gonna end up pulling some shit like this and blowing my cover!

- Um... You told me.

- What? - She furrowed her brows - I didn't even talk t'you

- Yes you did, how would I know your name if you didn't? - I laughed nervously.

- Well, I guess I might've... Anyway, a girl called me slag so I got in a fight.

Nathan raised his hand, presumably to ask a question to our first lecturer.

- Yes, sir? - I said into the "mic"

- Yeah, thank you - he pulled the mic closer to his mouth - was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?

- No, it was at Argos... - Kelly said.

- Sorry, I couldn't hear you without the mic - Nathan teased.

- It was at Argos - Kelly repeated while holding her own brush in front of her mouth.

- Argos... You know what? You should've gotten one of them little pens they have and jabbed it in her eye - Nathan brought my brush to him once again - what about you, weird kid?

- Moving on to our next panel - I announced with a game show host voice - Simon!

- Don't take this the wrong way or anythin’, but you look like a panty sniffer - Nathan joked.

- I'm not a panty sniffer... I'm not a pervert - Simon said.

Although I understand Nathan's humor is an acquired taste and it can feel very personal when he says certain things, I doubt he actually wanted to hurt him. I wish Simon would let loose more often, he didn't know this yet, but talking to Nate you should always count on a 90% ratio of jokes and shit he doesn't mean.

Just to make everything worse, Nathan started wanking his brush in front of his crotch and grunting, pulling silly faces. I didn't wanna upset Simon by laughing, but that was really funny...

- I tried to burn someone's house down - Simon snapped.

- Ah - Nathan let out a high pitched nervy laugh.

- I guess we should go to our next guest... Go on, what did you do? - I held the brush in front of Nathan, desperately hoping this uncomfortable haze dissipated.

- First of all, it's an honor to be here at the delinquent convention - Nathan pretended to be emotional - I should thank my family for this achievement, especially my dad! Without you, I wouldn't be here today... Essentially, I was done for eating some pick n' mix.

- You taking the piss? - I chuckled.

- No, I'm serious.

- You really expect me to believe you were arrested for stealing what? Five cents worth of candy?

- Well, life is unfair - he shrugged.

- That's bollocks... - Kelly said.

- Now it's time for our main panel, our guest of honor - Nathan held his brush in front of me - Tell us what you did, Lollipop.

- Any guesses? - I cocked an eyebrow.

- If I had to guess, I'd say... Public indecency? Like shaggin’ in the middle of a park.

- Yeah, that was it - I gave him a sheepish smile.

- Wait, really? - His face transformed.

- Of course not!

- Then what?

- I keyed someone's car and slashed their tires.

- Wow, your ex cheated or somethin’? - Nathan inhaled sharply.

- You can say so...

- Remind me to stay on your good side - Nathan joked - wouldn't wanna mess with a firecracker like you. I do like firecrackers, though... I think you know that.

- Is this a joke about you being Irish? - I narrowed my eyes.

- It is now - he cackled - shame on you! I'm extremely offended!

- Aw, I'm sorry... How can I make it up to you? - I put some white paint on the tip of his nose.

- Well, for starters, you can...

Before Nathan could finish, the sound of roaring thunder made us all jump. I instinctively held his hand, he held mine back.

- What is goin’ on with this weather? - He asked, seeing a very dark stormy cloud approached us at an alarming speed.

Oh, of course! The storm, that's supposed to happen now! I know about that... Wait, does that mean I was about to get electrocuted with the rest of them? Hell no, I forgot about that part!

- How did that happen? - Tony asked pointing at the spilled paint on the floor - you've been here five minutes, it's painting benches.

We didn't really have an explanation, but luckily we didn't need to give one because a huge block of snow fell from the sky, completely destroying a car in front of us. Even though I knew what was about to happen, it still freaked me out.

- What the hell was that? - Simon fell from the shock.

- Jesus! - Nathan held onto my arm.

- What's going on? - Kelly shouted.

- That's my car... - Tony mumbled.

Simon immediately grabbed his phone to record the scene, I had seen that footage, it was almost a historic document.

- Ha, classic...

Nathan's fear turned into amusement, only to be turned back into fear when another huge block of snow fell in the water, splashing us all. He gasped, drenched curls covering his forehead.

- Oh my God! - I screamed.

- Okay, so I'm a little bit freaked out... - Nathan looked around.

- What is that? - Alisha pointed at the unusual way the clouds were behaving.

- Right, everyone inside, move! - Tony tried to sound calm and collected.

At this point, lots of blocks of snow were falling from the sky, those things were huge! We all ran, screaming like crazy, trying to avoid the blasts, everything around us was being shattered, it looked like the end of the world.

Curtis was the first one to get to the door, but it was locked. What type of idiot would leave the door of a Community Center locked during the day? Isn't it supposed to be for the community? Tony grabbed his set of keys and fumbled with it, trying to find the right one, but I knew damn well he wouldn't.

- Open the fucking door! - Alisha screeched.

- Don't speak to me like that! - Tony matched her tone.

God, what a twat! We were all in danger and all he could worry about was maintaining his authority over us?

That's when it happened: lightning struck right in front of my eyes and being wet made us perfect conductors. If I'm being honest, it was not as bad as I thought it was gonna be... Though it was painful like a motherfucker, at least it was fast. I clenched my eyes shut as I fell on the floor with a loud thud.

When I opened my eyes, the storm was gone, like it never happened. Except of course for our new powers and everything that was destroyed around us.

- I feel really weird - Kelly sat up.

- That'll be the lightning... - Curtis said.

- We should be dead - Simon's voice was trembling.

- Shit - I chuckled - I hope no one here has a pacemaker or something.

- A little reassurance might be nice, y’know? - Nathan sounded husky - "you're fine", "lookin’ good".

- Wanker! - Tony blurted out,

- Did he just call me a wanker? - Nathan looked at me confused.

Tony told us we should all go home and I frowned, damn it! I didn't even have time to talk to anyone! This was supposed to be fun, you know? Discovering our new powers and our growing friendship...

I changed back into my heavily Avril Lavigne inspired look: black pleated skirt, with a Fall Out Boy shirt and a tie. When I was leaving the locker room, Alisha and Kelly were getting into a discussion, I thought about interfering, but they barely knew me.

- You know all about bein’... Mental - Nathan was mocking Simon again - wanker!

- Are we waiting for something? - Alisha asked.

- Probation worker - Curtis replied.

- I'm not waiting around for that dickhead - Alisha scoffed and turned around to leave.

I shrugged and followed her. I lived only five minutes away from the Community Center, so it was a short walk. I should try to figure out my powers before work... I hope it's something cool, like starting fires or mind-controlling.

- Wait up, Lollipop - Nathan called - you haven't told me your name yet.

- Lydia - I slowed my pace, allowing him to catch up.

- Oh, like that Beetlejuice chick! She's a hottie... Did your parents name you that knowin’ you'd become a hottie too?

- I doubt that... If that's the case I think your parents were being funny.

- What d’you mean?

- Nathan means gift from God.

- And that's what I am.

- Aham... Sure - I rolled my eyes.

- Well, if you unwrap me you'll see - he turned to me with a smirk.

Well, that was easier than I thought... But it wasn't a guarantee that he actually fancies me, Nathan is a professional at dicking around, you never know when he's flirting with you for real.

- In your dreams - I decided to instigate.

- Oh, please... I know you’re into me, you can't deny it. Every time I come around, your nipples get hard.

- What? - I looked down at my chest, that could very much be true, so I just wanted to check.

- Made ya look - he snickered.

That boy was a crude prick, an absolute shameless, disgusting dick, and that's what I love the most about him. I just seem to have a thing for funny assholes, there was no point in fighting it. All of the raunchy sex jokes, the oversharing, the innuendos... I just couldn't let him know I like that, not yet.

- The probation worker was right, you're a proper wanker.

- I can guarantee you somethin’, Lollipop - he raised his thick eyebrows - tonight before bed, I'll be wankin’ alright... Thinkin’ of this pretty little face.

- Wow, you really know how to make a girl swoon.

- Thanks, it's a gift - he bowed slightly - so does that mean you'd like to go out for a drink?

- I have work.

- Really? What do you do?

- I teach piano and guitar.

- Oh, so you're good with your fingers... - He was even worse than I remember, and that only made me want him more.

I simply shook my head, trying not to blush. I fixed my backpack and looked at him once more before we split.

- See you tomorrow... Lanky kid.

- If you keep talkin’ dirty like that I'm gonna spunk all over my pants! - He shouted behind me.

For the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was extra hard to concentrate on my lessons when that stupid smile and those stupid curls didn't leave my head. When I closed my eyes at night, it was almost like I could hear his voice with that cute little Irish accent...

#misfits #misfits fanfic #misfits imagine #fanfic #nathan young #misfits tv

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wovenstarlight · 3 years

Text

YWBK update: chapter 26 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 26 here, or start from the beginning here

as always, commentary below the cut

Yoojin🐉😊

watch this space....

In preparation for it, Han Hyunjae temporarily requisitions Yoojin’s laptop and combs through the internet looking for photos of the Hunters that he thinks his family should know about in advance. He goes down one too many internet rabbit-holes, takes way too many screenshots, transcribes a summary of the notes in his future diary, then painstakingly puts everything together into a neat little presentation for them.

picture HHJ reading his fifth article wondering where the sung family heir has disappeared to and being like 👁️👁️👁️👁️

had a little giggle to myself about “future diary” that phrasing was definitely on purpose. will exclusively be referring to it as this now

“Right,” he starts, clapping his hands together, after Yerim’s been sent off to play with Hohyoung.

LHH is so much of a background figure.... i want to see more of himself but he likes his privacy.... he’s got his girlfriend and his baby sister and yoojin who’s wormed his way into his good graces by way of Living In Same House but that’s kinda it....... he’s always lurking in the background instead of showing up on screen. come here hohyoung oppa i just wanna talk

Even if Yoojin’s right, Han Hyunjae still has to protest. [...] But he can’t keep it up when Jiyeon looks at him like that.

KJY has the world’s best Stern Mom Voice and Disappointed Mom Glare and to her great delight they work even on fellow adult HHJ. she will use this power For Evil

The other S-ranks are Moon Hyuna, leader of Breaker Guild, and Bak Mingyu of Hanshin Guild.

OK FOR THIS PART I STRAIGHT FORGOT ABOUT HANSHIN GUILD AND I WAS COUNTING UP ON MY FINGERS LIKE WAIT... IF YERIM WAS THE EIGHTH KOREAN S-RANK WHO WERE THE SEVEN BEFORE HER.... (for those curious they were 1. sung hyunjae, 2. han yoohyun, 3. moon hyuna, 4. song taewon, 5. bak mingyu of hanshin, 6. choi sukwon of MKC, and 7. yoon kyeongsoo of soodam. but. i forgot about the last three altogether.)

“Oh, blond guy,” Yoojin says, unimpressed. “Yeah, I’ve seen him on the news and stuff.”

Top 10 Funny Yoojin Moments (I JUST THINK IT’D BE REALLY FUNNY IF HAN “HAVE I MENTIONED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES HOW HANDSOME SUNG HYUNJAE IS” YOOJIN DID NOT GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT HIM IN THIS TIMELINE....)

Han Hyunjae takes a moment to double-check that he really doesn’t have Noise Resistance (L), and looks back in time to see Yoojin rubbing at his eyes and glaring at the screen.

HEHEHE...... A SECRET TOOL THAT WILL HELP US LATER

“Hyunjae-yah,” Jiyeon says, looking at the photo of Sung Hyunjae on screen, “this man looks—” “LIKE A PIECE OF WHITE BREAD,” Yoojin bellows. [...] “HYUNG THINKS HE LOOKS GOOD? [...] Oh, god, he kinda does, [...] but like, in a trashy romance novel cover way.” [... Jiyeon] gives the computer screen an assessing once-over. “He looks like the models in cologne advertisements.”

this part of the chapter was planned waaaay back in august 2020 and i actually crowdfunded these descriptions from the s-class server dshblksjdfkblsdfb. the original suggestions (thanks to server members for these):

“bland whitie potato with a slap-on seme personality”

“tacky valentine’s day/mom’s cologne advertisement”

“the face of the dude on the cover of all my mom’s trashy romance novels”

and tbh HYJ does think he genuinely looks good but like, disgustingly good, you know... also Hyung Likes Him so [19 gun emojis]

also me handwaving moment of mild homophobia because like. jiyeon doesn’t know yet AND homophobia is a thing in this world BUT i don’t really wanna do, All That (we already did it with HYJ once), so.

“Do S-ranks get rich?” Yerim asks as she enters, because apparently everyone’s coming for his life today. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes and lies down on the bed while Yoohyun calls out an affirmation over his head. “Then I think— oh! He looks nice!” He cracks open an eye just in time to see her nod. “I think ahjussi should marry him for the eye candy and the money.” She beams very wide. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes again and tunes out the loud conversation going on around him. And wishes, not for the first time, that he’d picked literally any other name when he first got here.

yerim says gay rights cuz she’s like 12 rn and she straight up does not really care. but says it in, like, the most frustrating way possible.

sometimes you just need to lie down even as the world keeps throwing shit at you. just lie down and nap for a little bit. especially when the shit in question is the alias regret you had literally back in chapter one of your 25+ chapter story. this is gonna come back to bite you in the ass Very Fucking Soon babe!!!!

You Oh this is like the 17th one I got wrong I swear this course is trying to kill me

me, flicking on that EPSON brand projector,

(i have. been having a Time of it.)

[Yoojin🐉😊 called you (21:35)]

that’s minutes and seconds babey... you can pretty much guess the content of call from context :(

well, uh. most of call. some internal plot and Realizations happening right at the end of those 21 minutes, 35 seconds. namely:

Yoojin🐉❤️

:-)

or i dunno you can be my roommate and we can both leech off my rich and prosperous baby brother!

[extremely sad voice] heehoo... they... care each other....

YMW’s parents are kinda shit ngl. they care about him, but unfortunately, that does not show through in their care for him, ykwim? if they just paid attention to what he was actually talented at and encouraged him in his efforts.................

well, he wouldn’t have met HYJ in canon. but he would also have been a lot happier!! and YMW deserves to be happy!!!!!!!! YMW fucking rights!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You When you came with me to drop off Jihui’s standee.

they finally remembered her name sjfbklsjdfbl

Yoojin🐉❤️ OH right i was talking to one of my new commissioners about their piece realized they were an old friend of hyung’s

HEEHOO.... HONKS MY LITTLE CLOWN NOSE yoojin forgot to ask about pronouns but that’s okay they’re figuring that stuff out still

Yoojin🐉❤️ it’s getting late the kids are going to bed i have to turn off the lights

you can take the caregiver out the role of caregiving but he will still think of his baby siblings as his kids

Part of that is changing his behaviour. Hyunjae and Yoojin sit side by side and watch as Suk Simyeong gently coaches Yoohyun on how to interact with others and present a neutral, if not friendly, exterior.

[same voice as ingredience] neurodivergence.....

try and look them in the eye, or at least look somewhere on or near their face, if eye contact is too much

yoohyun, who’s the type to look people in the eye without blinking until they inevitably look away because then they don’t try that eye contact shit again later:

tbh i kinda made up shit for the Training In Formality section i don’t know shit about being Formal and Polite. hope i got it right :pensive:

“He’s not good with touch,” Hyunjae cuts in. [...] “Sorry,” [Yoojin] says apologetically to Suk Simyeong, crossing the room and gently pressing a hand against Yoohyun’s back. The kid slowly stops rocking and leans into the touch as he talks.

he’s not good with touch, Usually..... there are exceptions :-) every time i think about this being canon i go insane. wow. love and trust and faith.

Suk Simyeong nods understandingly, giving the closed door a considering look. “If that’s the case, perhaps he can take over part of the preparations,” he offers.

SSM who’s frothing at the mouth wanting to know more about this dude who apparently did some killer business deal with the head of Dungeon Task Force who all the dungeon people are gossiping about on their phone calls while they cart around unassuming A-rank businessmen: PLEEAAASEE fucking involve him PLEEEEASE make him involve himself in business with me

Still, Yoojin’s work is fairly repetitive and boring, so Hyunjae and the women pull out a pack of UNO cards from somewhere and start playing while he works, not paying much attention to either of the boys.

plugging my Han/Bak family playing UNO art here, please reblog like and subscribe,

He stares down at Yoohyun’s hair. Yoohyun’s wavy hair sits there judgmentally. Yoojin bemoans his budding career as a stylist and admits, “This… isn’t working.”

i’m sorry sweetie... hair isn’t your forte :( you can still do fashion if you try really hard

(fun fact about this whole scene, yoohyun not being able to straighten his hair until he could control flame resistance is Certified Canon!)

“No, shit, don’t get up.” Yoojin flaps his free hand at him distractedly. Hyunjae and his need to do everything himself, jeez. “I mean, like. The iron is not. Straightening.”

“hyunjae and his need to do everything” says the man who a few paragraphs ago wanted to be hair makeup clothing and management all in one

“Okay, but why is it not working, though? Is the iron not turned on?” Wow. Wow! Yoojin wonders suddenly if Yoohyun ever felt as homicidal towards him as Yoojin’s currently feeling towards his big brother. If he ever had, then it’s frankly stunning Yoojin’s survived as long as he did. “Do you think I’m stupid,” he snaps. “It’s plugged in.” “Yeah, but did you turn it on.” “You know what, why don’t you touch it and see?” Yoojin unplugs the straightening iron for a minute so that he can take it over to Hyunjae, presenting it to him with a flourish. The heat will hold on for the few seconds this takes. “Come on, touch it right now. I dare you.”

zmur put this into words better than i can, she described this part as “the feeling when elder siblings doubt your intelligence”--

“What if you used a regular iron. Like for clothes,” Hyunjae says, completely ignoring Yoohyun. Yoojin hums thoughtfully.

--and this part as “THEY ARE RIGHT TO DOUBT IT !”

“Killjoy,” Hyunjae mutters so only he and Yoojin can hear.

(should doubt your elder sibling’s intelligence too, once in a while. keep them on their toes.)

“HAN YOOHYUN YOU TAKE YOUR HAND OFF THAT RIGHT NOW,” Yoojin and Hyunjae and Jiyeon holler in perfect unison.

parental instinct for particular phrasings of commands

“Flame Resistance,” Yoohyun reads out. “S-rank.” It’s not heat resistance, but it’s pretty close, so it probably still applies.

hum hum the flame skill works on heat as well, huh

Yoojin’s watching Hyunjae idly when the flickers start up at the edge of his vision again. He blinks, rubbing his eyes idly, and looks back up in time to see, just for a split second—

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE VISION PROBLEMS WAS IT? RUBBING HIS EYES WAS IT??

“Eh? It didn’t? I’ll… I’ll try it again, one second.” Nothing, for a second— but no, there is, pale flashes here and there. Yoojin shakes his head and blinks. They die down, then start up again. Fainter, this time. Why?

gonna say this here because i accidentally set it up as a Thing there’s. there’s no reason. whether the message shows up or not is pretty much random error.

“Ahjussi has an L-rank skill?” Yerim demands. “That’s so cool!” Jiyeon and Yoohyun and Yoojin stare at Hyunjae in silence as he returns Yerim’s eager high-five. He cowers when he notices them.

these three are already so mad and they don’t know that between S and L there’s SS and SSS. they’re gonna be SOOOOO mad. anyway yerim remains the chillest in the room

“So, say you needed to cauterize a wound in an emergency, and you didn’t have access to healing items or Hunters. You could drop the Resistance there, set it on fire, and just… sear it shut.” Yoohyun blinks, an intrigued look coming into his eyes, and looks down at his own forearm. “That’s true, I could probably…” “Yeah, food for thought, I suppose.” “What the hell?!” Yerim yelps. “Though it’s up to you if you want to try it. I still think your hair is fine as is, we don’t have to—” “That’s horrifying,” Yoojin blurts. “No, I should know how. In case something happens like you said. How do I do it?” “Now hold on a second,” Jiyeon says, voice rapidly rising in pitch.

sometimes i think about how dungeon stuff made yoojin significantly more chill with violence and murder and self mutilation in some cases. and how he comments specifically (i think this might be in a slightly later chapter, possibly unreleased) that people like myeongwoo who don’t have those extra years of immersion in the dungeon culture still reject and avoid violence and killing whenever possible. really makes you think

anyway! i saved some extra commentary for those okay with spoilers. continue reading at your own risk. extra large warning in case you’re skilling

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE BELOW CONTENT!!!! IT DRAWS ON INFO FROM UNTRANSLATED CHAPTERS, POST-170S AT LEAST!

“How many of these people did you personally know?” “Not many!” “So one, then,” Yoojin concludes. “You don’t know that!”

HE DIDN’T SAY THAT YOOJIN WAS RIGHT, THOUGH..............

“Why did you pick his name out of everyone’s! I thought you weren’t in touch with S-ranks. I thought you picked a friend’s name!”

they wanted some kind of bedroom decoration for a family member, counting sheep or something, i forget

a sheep, for a family member of one of han hyunjae’s old acquaintances, is it

#star.txt #work: yesterday will be kinder #writing commentary #my writing #some family antics to make up for what's next #more and more i feel like i need to write a timeskip. i'm so tired of early guild and dungeon management.#i need to write insanity. murder. kidnapping. classic s-class stuff #AND OF COURSE SUPERPOWERED FAMILY ANTICS WHICH IS SO CLASSIC S-CLASS STUFF IT'S BCE

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chrwrites · 4 years

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Take Me As You Please - Chapter 1

When Marinette’s worse dream comes true, she does everything she can to let her feelings for Adrien go, and Luka only wants to be there for her – that’s what friends are for, right?

A lot of feelings can happen in one summer.

read on ao3

Luka loved summer. Paris was less chaotic since most people were away for the holidays, the usually crowded streets were empty and this allowed him to enjoy his city more than he already did. Everything was quieter but more colourful, the world seemed to flourish around him and he allowed himself to fully absorb that energy. Summer meant warm sunny days, and the way the breeze brushed his skin and ruffled his hair inspired new songs, now that school was over he finally had time to focus only on his music. Summer was a chance to recharge before going back to the ordinary, he could let go of his worries for a moment and take things slow, free his mind. Summer tasted like freedom and sweet juicy fruits, and Luka loved and cherished every moment of it.

He sat on a couch on the deck of the Liberty, gently strumming his acoustic guitar while he waited for the rest of his bandmates to arrive at band practice. The Liberty welcomed his and Juleka's friends, they spent most of the time hanging out on the houseboat, some playing music, some writing, some drawing. They even managed to bring a table tennis table on board to everyone's delight. At the end of the day they would watch orange and red lights gleam on the Seine, the sun setting on the horizon painting the buildings in a warmer colour, and each sunset was so unique Luka wanted to capture them through music, but he struggled to find the perfect melody for the incredible arrangement of yellow, pink, red and orange in the sky he was lucky to see almost everyday. Not being able to find the perfect tune for something was more frustrating than he’d admit, he usually got it right at the first try and then he would start composing from there, that was the difficult part. But this time it felt like something was missing. There was only one time when he found difficult to find the perfect tune for something, or rather, someone –

“Luka! The guys haven't arrived yet?" Marinette's voice interrupted his thoughts, he looked up at her direction and smiled. She just got off the gangplank and was walking up to him, she was wearing a white sundress with small cherries printed on it and her dark hair were styled into a side braid. Oh, she was beautiful. And while he admired her, she stumbled on a cable on the floor.

“Woah, careful there” he let out a small chuckle.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!”, she said a little too loudly as she straightened up, tightening the grip on the bag she was holding. That was his Marinette. Well, not his in that sense¸ he wished she was, but her heart belonged to someone else.

She was the Marinette he learned to know so well during the last two years. The clumsy, sweet and joyful Marinette, the girl he fell in love with, and even though he knew that his feelings weren’t reciprocated, he was happy with being by her side as a friend, and he respected her enough not to push his feelings on her. Why should he, anyway? She was free to love whoever she wanted, even if this meant suffering and crying about it for hours in his arms. He hated seeing her like this, and he wished he could do more for her, and of course he could do more for her. He could be what she needed, he could treat her like she deserved, but it wasn’t him she wanted for that. The only thing he could do for her was being there for her, and that’s exactly what he did. They got close and hung out together, they learned to know each other, she allowed herself to be vulnerable around him and he was happy about that. He gave her the chance to be herself and nothing else, and she was happy with that. That’s the only thing that mattered.

“I brought macarons for everyone” she said, sitting next to him and placing the bag she was holding on the wooden deck “Where are they?”

“Oh, Jules and Rose went to get ice cream, and Ivan and Mylène are arriving at 4:30” he shrugged. They sat in silence as he plucked the strings of his guitar, the same melody he was playing before she arrived filling the air. She was looking at her sundress, gently pulling at its creases to straighten them a little.

“That’s a new one” she commented, a tiny smile forming on her face “I like it”

“It’s not perfect yet” he noted, and set the guitar aside, looking at her. She didn’t look her usual joyful self, her face was serious and her ocean eyes were dull. It seemed like something was torturing her mind.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

Marinette looked away and took a deep breath, she didn’t know where to start, she burdened him with so many of her problems and didn’t want to put more weight on his shoulders. Especially since this time she would’ve reminded him of when she asked him to go on a double date with Adrien and Kagami, the first time she chose Adrien over him, and he let her. Luka accepted it and he didn’t even start to behave differently around her. Marinette felt like she didn’t deserve to be treated so gently, but he did it anyway. He never made her feel wrong for her own feelings, even if he was hurt by them. Luka deserved much better than her crying on his shoulder for her unrequited crush while he felt the same way about her, but time has passed since he confessed his feelings to her, and after that he never made another move. Besides, didn’t he start seeing someone recently? What was his name again? Elliott, right? He had moved on. Marinette met him at band practice once, he was nice and pretty and definitely Luka’s type. Too bad they broke up right before school ended. Marinette was the first person to know, “We weren’t invested enough” was all he said, and she didn’t dare to ask him more about it, she just told him that she was sorry and he stayed at hers, they watched a movie and ordered pizza, just like friends do after a break up. Yes, he must be over her, she could tell him without being afraid to hurt him, it’s not like she has never talked to him about Adrien, anyway.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it” he said, catching her attention.

“Well, it’s just that – she closed her eyes, wincing at the thought of saying it out loud – Adrien and Kagami are dating”. It was awfully real now.

Luka stayed silent for a while, trying to find the right words to say, but he only wanted to hold her and comfort her.

“He texted me today” she continued “he told me she had asked him out. They went on a picnic at the park and when he walked her home they kissed. And he’s happy he’s finally found someone that fully understands him. – Luka put his hand on her shoulder – I lied. I told him I was happy for them too. They’re my friends after all, I should be happy for them, but...”

She finally turned to Luka, who was looking at her with so much care and understanding she felt like collapsing.

“I feel so stupid, I’ve spent the last two years trying to create the perfect moment for me to confess my feelings for him and it was useless. I kept making up excuses for my hesitation. I was never brave enough to tell him how I really felt. I kept stuttering and I never took a chance to express myself and I even complained about him considering me just a friend? I didn’t do anything to make him truly understand how I felt! Hell, I’m the one who suggested him to get closer to her in the first place! If I weren’t so insecure, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I des–

“Enough with the negative self-talk” Luka snapped, surprising himself and Marinette for the harsh tone that came out of his mouth. He sighed, looking at her in the eyes and getting closer to her. If it weren’t for the helpless and sad look on Marinette’s face he would've found this whole situation pretty ironic. Actually, he could see the irony in the situation. He was comforting the girl he was in love with because her crush unknowingly shattered her heart. The universe must’ve been laughing at him.

“Sorry” he whispered “I hate it when you put yourself down, you should be kinder to yourself”.

Marinette looked down and stayed silent. If she opened his mouth Luka would’ve scolded her again for being too hard on herself.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Luka asked, his voice softer than ever. Marinette nodded helplessly and looked at him.

“I think that everyone could see that you were head over heels for him, and he was completely oblivious because he was fine with having you as a friend, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I think that even if you have never been direct with your feelings, he could've understood how you felt. You behaved differently around him and he never noticed nor questioned it”. Marinette gazed at him, nodding hesitantly “Y-You’re right, maybe I should just try to let this go. I mean, when I talk to him as a friend I don’t get flustered that easily, it’s easier for me to be with him, I’m not afraid that something might go wrong. I care about him, but I have to face the fact that Kagami is the perfect match for him. They have a similar background and their parents work together. She’s smart and determined and everything I’m not, I understand why he’s fallen for her. I’m just –

“Marinette” Luka interrupted her with a glare before she could say anything more and made her face him. His eyes were fixed into hers and he cupped her face in his hands. Their faces were way too close and Luka could feel his heart beat faster for a moment. Concentrate, Luka. You're supposed to be there for her.

“You’re the most extraordinary girl, Marinette”. Clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the day we first met. He wished he could say it again, just to remind her how much she meant to him. “Whoever doesn’t see it is an idiot and you don’t deserve to feel bad about yourself because of them. I understand that now you feel hopeless, and you have every right to feel everything you’re feeling, but I don’t want you to feel like you deserve nothing. You deserve to feel loved and wanted, and you too deserve someone who cares about you enough to understand how you’re feeling even when you don’t say it and to be there for you.” Someone like me.

“Thank you, Luka. I – Marinette’s breath hitched, she was trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek and he wished he could take away all of her pain, he wished he could help her heal but the only thing he could do was hug her and try to ease her pain. Marinette held on his t-shirt and let out a small sigh, which turned into a soft sob and in the end she was crying on his shoulder, shaking and sobbing harder.

She let herself fall this time, and he was there to catch her, again.

One of his hands was lightly rubbing her back to comfort her, she let out all the sadness and stress she kept holding back, and when she calmed down, she whispered a faint thank you as he kept holding her close. He didn’t know how long they stayed like in that position; time seemed to have stopped for Luka.

It wasn’t until they heard Juleka and Rose giggle as they walked on the boat hand in hand that he reluctantly let Marinette go. Juleka gave him a knowing look “Aw, isn’t Luka a great cuddler” she commented while Rose by her side squealed in happiness. Marinette straightened up on the couch and looked at him. Her eyes were slightly puffy from all that crying but they had a bit of her usual brightness back and her cheeks had turned into an adorable shade of pink. He gave her a reassuring smile, he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, and glared at his sister while he put his arms behind his head, relaxing and changing the subject.

“Have you heard from Ivan?” he asked “He and Mylène should be here by now and I really wanna start playing”. Juleka looked at her phone, “He’s looking for a place to park his scooter, they’ll be here soon” and just as she said it, the drummer and his girlfriend got on board.

“Ah, finally!” Luka waved at the couple as they were welcomed by the rest of the band, and before going to get his electric guitar he turned to Marinette “We don’t usually take requests, but do you wanna hear us play something in particular?” Just for you?

Juleka shook her head but he ignored her and looked at the rest of the band. “We said we would've practiced new songs to cover, why not let Marinette choose for us?” he continued, that was the perfect excuse.

Marinette thought about it for a moment and then a sly grin appeared on her face “I want Taylor Swift” she announced.

“That’s why we don’t take requests” Ivan looked at her amused, and Luka couldn’t help but feign shock. “Marinette, we are rockers, what makes you think we would ever play crappy pop? I feel insulted” he put a hand on his heart in a dramatic pose and she let out a laugh “I’m sorry, I just thought you could handle a bit of change”.

“Of course we can, don’t’ underestimate us”

“I would never”

“So Taylor Swift it is, then” he took is phone from his pocket to look for the tabs he needed. He wasn’t going to play Marinette songs about high heels and sneakers or teardrops on guitars, no sad songs about heartbreak and comparing yourself to others. He tried to ignore the fact that he could relate to You Belong With Me pretty well. Luka considered singing about heartbreaks being national anthems but opted against it, he wanted something cheerful and carefree, not something that could make Marinette think about what pained her in any way. When he found the perfect song, he made the rest of the band look at the tabs for their instruments and they discussed the changes they would make for them to own the song and it not being just a casual cover, who knows, if it went well they could’ve even considered to play it live.

They got to the stage, and Ivan started banging on his drumkit. Juleka and Luka followed soon after, the sound of the bass and the guitar matching perfectly the rhythm given by the drums, every note came together to form the happy and upbeat tone of the original song, but with a heavier, guitar-driven sound.

“I stay out too late, got nothin' in my brain that's what people say” Rose’s deep voice joined them and Marinette smiled as she mouthed the lyrics back at the band, she looked like she was having fun too. Luka smiled to himself and then followed Rose’s singing “It's like I got this music in my mind, sayin' it's gonna be alright” and they continued playing the happy beat they created for the song. It was a fun song to play and they had been able to adapt it to their genre pretty easily. Rose let Luka take over the bridge of the song when he met Marinette’s eyes while she was pointing at him, “and to the fella over there with the hella good hair won't you come on over, baby?” he sang as he felt an unfamiliar warmth creeping up his face “We can shake, shake, shake” he continued, trying to keep his voice steady as he sung. She was just having fun with them and their eyes met. He couldn’t read into it something more, he really couldn’t. On the other hand, he felt a new melody forming in his heart and he let it flow through is fingers, the new joyful tune filled the song and he continued playing until their performance was over. The melody ended with the two-people audience applauding and cheering on them.

“I like what you did there” Ivan looked at him amazed and Luka ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the electric feeling that was running through his veins. Rose was delighted and clapped her hands as well “That was fun!”, Juleka smiled fondly at her enthusiasm.

“It was amazing!” Marinette roared happily, Luka felt that her heart was lighter than before and he smiled to himself, glad to have accomplished his main goal.

“Thank you” was all he could say in the microphone, even if he felt the same heat from before forming on his face.

He turned to the rest of the band and they started to discuss what to play next. They had a gig in the upcoming week and it was the first time they could play a whole hour-long set, but they had yet to decide the setlist so there was still some work to do if they wanted it to be perfect.

The group went back to practicing and Marinette took out her sketchbook to start drawing on a blank page, she felt better than the emotional mess she was in Luka’s arms but she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. She knew a heartache couldn’t be cured so easily, but a happy song and warm hugs had really helped.

Marinette had just finished sketching the croquis of her design when her phone vibrated, she decided not to check any message, she really didn’t want to think again about something that could crush her, it was better for her to keep it in the back of her mind. She continued drawing while she let the music her friends played comfort her “Candy-coat your problems if they’re bitter and they’re awful I won’t let this be a sad song or make this hard to swallow” they sang. Mylène complemented the dress she was creating, and she felt a tiny bit of satisfaction spark in her. It wasn’t until she heard her phone vibrate as someone called that Marinette reluctantly put her sketchbook aside and took it out. Alya’s name lit up the screen but she didn’t really feel like answering. Besides, Kitty Section were practising, and she wouldn’t have heard her through the phone. She declined the call and then decided to check the notifications she got; they were all text messages from Alya.

Marinette, how are you?

I just spoke to Nino and I really need to talk to you

It’s important

Marinette?

Please answer me

Marinette sighed, her heart started to feel heavy again and even though she was glad to see that her friend cared about her, she wasn’t ready to have that conversation again.

I can’t talk right now, but I know what you want to talk about

Adrien told me

I’m fine, thanks for checking in

I’m so sorry Mari, can I come over later?

I’m here for you

Thank you Alya, it really means a lot to me

I’d rather to see you tomorrow

Is that okay for you?

The truth was that all she wanted to do as soon as she got home was cry her heart out until she fell asleep hugging the pillow.

Yeah sure, take your time

You know where to find me!

Marinette closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to recollect herself. She put away her phone and went back to working on her sketch. She added a few details to the design before the band decided it was time to take a break. Mylène got up and sat on Ivan’s lap, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. Marinette felt something sting in her heart and tried to ignore it. She wished she had a love so sweet too, but all her hopes and dreams about love were shattered that same day.

Juleka and Rose sat on two deckchairs next to each other while Luka went below deck to get something to drink for everyone. He came upstairs with a jug of fresh lemonade and glasses, set them on the small coffee table in front of where Marinette was, and went to sit next to her. She reached for the bag and placed the macaron box she brought at the centre of the table. They all took a sweet, and Marinette sipped her drink quietly as he listened to her friends talking about the upcoming gig.

“Did you make any new design?” Luka turned to her and she put her glass on the coffee table.

“Yeah, but I’m not fully satisfied with the idea honestly” she sighed

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, can I see it?” Marinette nodded and flickered through the pages of her sketchbook, showing Luka the design she was working on. He got closer to her to have a better look at it.

“It’s really good, Mari!” Luka admired the unfinished sketch and then looked up at her “It’s gonna be even better when you finish it!”.

Marinette blushed at his comment, Luka had always been supportive of her and always motivated her to do better, he also helped her to find the motivation she needed when she was stuck in a project and couldn’t find any inspiration. “Thank you, Luka. If it wasn’t for you I would’ve probably thrown away half of the designs in this sketchbook”.

He closed the sketchbook handing it to her with a soft expression “You should give yourself a little more credit, Mari”. She took the book and put it on her lap, studying the decorations she drew on the cover. A small ladybug and an intricate flower design. Maybe he was right, he was looking at her with so much admiration she felt her cheeks heat up. Luka tried to contain a smile as he noticed her blush, and put a hand on her shoulder. He really hated the fact that she thought so little of herself, if she could see herself through his eyes, she would’ve completely changed her mind. This wasn’t because Luka’s vision of her was rose-coloured, she was actually really talented, and kind, and smart, and caring… He fell for her for so many reasons. He wrote songs about her for so many reasons.

“What do you think, Lukey?” Juleka’s voice made him get out of his thoughts. Everyone was staring at him.

“Uh- sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?” his sister rolled her eyes, her expression screaming that he was embarrassing, and Rose, who was a hopeless romantic and never lost a chance to remind Luka how he and Marinette would be the perfect couple, let out a small laugh.

“I was saying that we should just perform our original songs at the concert” she said, exasperated.

He thought about if for a moment, moving the hand that was on Marinette’s shoulder under his chin.

“You’re forgetting that not everyone will know us or our songs, a cover could lift up the mood. We just have to find the right song” ha answered. “I like Pâquerette. We could do Shake It Off, too. It’s funnier to play, but we’d have to practice it a little more”.

Ivan agreed but suggested to cover Ain’t It Fun. “Oh, I love that one! It’s closer to our genre, too!” Rose added.

“Yeah, we can do that” Juleka said.

“So we’re playing Ain’t It Fun, perfect” Luka concluded.

When the rest of the band got up to go back to their instruments, Luka turned to Marinette “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to ask you something”.

“Yeah?” the girl said a little too loudly, a whole range of possible negative outcomes forming in her mind. Did she do anything wrong? Please, don’t make today worse than it already is.

“How do you feel about taking commissions from someone who’s not us?”

Marinette let out a sigh of relief, she wasn’t expecting a simple question like this. “I think I can handle that” she smiled at him.

“Great! Because I might’ve praised your skills to my friend” Luka could see her slightly blush again, he was growing really fond of it “and she asked me if you would be willing to help her band with designing. They need a complete rebrand actually since – well, she’ll explain that to you, we’re playing with her band next week, and if you come you can talk to her in person, otherwise I can give you her Instagram username so you can contact her when you feel like it”.

Marinette was surprised at his thoughtfulness, considering her needs and boundaries before she even stated them. He has always been like this, gentle and respectful, but people like him were so rare to find that she found it difficult to believe he was real.

“Yeah, I’ll do it!” she beamed, excited to start a new project and concentrate on something else, maybe that would’ve helped with the whole not-thinking-about-it thing. The only thought she couldn’t control in that moment creeped from the back of her mind. What if they don’t like my work? What if I don’t understand them?

Luka seemed to have read her mind when he put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly “Marinette, I already showed her your site and she loved your work. And when I told her you designed Jagged Stone's album cover she lost it, it’s her favourite album, you know?” he giggled at the memory of his best friend freaking out about the fact that his crush worked for THE JAGGED STONE, and he didn’t consider telling her?!?!

“You’re gonna do an amazing job as always, and if you have any trouble working with her you can talk to me”.

Marinette didn’t seem so sure about it, but nodded at him slowly, grateful for his support. He squeezed her shoulder delicately and gave her a wink before going back to the stage.

Marinette relaxed on the couch and closed her eyes, the breeze tickled her skin as the music her friends were playing soothed her mind. She wanted to hold on that feeling for as long as she could, she could deal with the bad stuff later. Besides, she dealt with worse, didn’t she? What was heartbreak compared to saving Paris from evil forces, keeping her superhero identity a secret or being the Guardian of the Miraculous? It was nothing really, nothing.

If she kept repeating it she would’ve believed it eventually.

The air got colder as the sun set, and Luka was playing the same melody he was playing when Marinette arrived. The golden light shined on him as he looked so lost in the sweet tune. He had his eyes closed, like the rest of the world around him didn’t exist. It was just him, his guitar, and whatever inspired him. He continued strumming as the rest of Kitty Section put away their instruments and Marinette gathered her art supplies and placed them in her bag. It was only when it was time for everyone to leave that Luka put away his guitar and went to say goodbye to Ivan and Mylène “See you tomorrow!” he waved.

Rose was staying for dinner, and Luka asked Marinette if she wanted to stay too, to which she kindly refused “My parents must be waiting for me already”.

“Want me to walk you home, then?” Luka suggested.

“No, thanks” she shook her head, her heart got heavier as the sun vanished in the horizon.

“Are you sure?” he could see a hint of dismal behind her eyes and he didn’t want to let her go like this. He got closer to her and whispered something only she could hear “You don’t have to do this alone, you know”, the pain in her eyes was starting to hurt him too, Luka needed to take it away from her. He hugged her tight, she stiffened at the sudden gesture, but she relaxed into his arms hugging him back. He distanced himself from her and looked at her in the eyes, he couldn’t bear not seeing the usual brightness that inspired so many songs, he needed to do something to help her heal.

And he kissed her. He kissed her with all the love and sweetness he had reserved just for her. It was soft, healing and regenerating, the kind of kiss that would’ve soothed even the worst wounds. When she pulled away and gave him a small smile he was tempted to give in to her lips again, just to make sure she was alright…

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry” and with that, he realized that he was imagining this again, what an idiot. Be glad you respect her too much not to do this. Wouldn’t take advantage of her being vulnerable, would you? Idiot. Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings, looked at the girl who was still wrapped in his arms and let her go reluctantly.

Luka cleared his throat before speaking “Text me when you get home, okay?”. Marinette nodded, and with that she was gone, he watched her walk away.

“You’re embarrassing” was all Luka heard from Juleka.

“No, he’s just in love…” Rose chirped and let out a small laugh, tugging her girlfriend’s hand and leading her below deck.

Luka didn’t eat much; he was too busy thinking about Marinette and how he really needed to do something to comfort her, but what? He would’ve never crossed her boundaries, not without her permission. He was fine with having her close as a friend, after all. It was safer, this way he couldn’t risk losing her. But at the same time he knew he could do better for her as something else… He left his sister and her girlfriend at the dining table and headed to his room, took his notepad and started scribbling new rhymes that matched the melody forming inside his head.

“Why do you have to make everything sound so dark?” Rose commented when he asked her opinion on the new lyrics he’d written. She was pointing at a verse that recited I feel dead and a half but you’re making me laugh.

“I like it” was Juleka’s only defence for him “you aren’t planning on serenading Marinette, are you?”

“What?! No, it’s just… I had to let this off my chest, that’s all” did Luka really want to tell her sister that he was going to send the song to her as soon as it was done? No, he would’ve kept the lyrics to himself anyway so it wasn’t that big of a deal. He cared more about the melody, that was meant to comfort her.

Rose helped him fix some parts of the lyrics and sent him back to his room so he could work on the melody.

Chapter 2

#my work #my writing #fanfiction #lukanette fanfic #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #fic: take me as you please

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nell0-0 · 3 years

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One day (you learn to let go) #1

Idea adopted from Firehedgehog's Idea Factory!

A very long time ago, Fate grabbed a Sans and twisted him into Error.

Every 25-100 years, Fate's magic wanes and Error transforms back into his past self. The only thing this Sans knows is that he seems to be skipping through time.

Ink, meanwhile, is the only one that knows what's going on as Error doesn't remember when his true self, Geno, wakes up.

https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/244792587-one-day-you-learn-to-let-go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100618/chapters/66175066#workskin

The pair of forced gods

At the beginning, there were no deities, no Alternate Universes, nothing. It was just a huge expanse of white, with a glowing drop of color in the middle of it. The original Undertale of this Multiverse, awe inducing in its lonesome.

Intrigued, higher beings started to take notice of this world. They were interested, since the story could have so many different outcomes and so many secrets! Each bit was treasured, every dialogue appreciated, every friend cherished.

Every kill done mercilessly.

It was a fun game to play for them. Those were the Voices. The Voices grew curious, little by little. What would happen if someone took apart that original world's code? What if a situation changed just a little? What if they only did pacifist route? Or only genocide?

They didn't dare change it too much, since they didn't want to damage the original one. It had a special place in their hearts, after all.

But then, one Voice spoke up.

What if they made copies?

At first, the other Voices were hesitant to take up the other's idea. It wouldn't change anything if they just copied the original. Besides, the game felt perfect already for them. It was fun, charming and with just a hint of violence enough to satisfy even the more cruel of them.

That Voice tried to reason with the rest once more.

They wouldn't damage the original in any way, it would be preserved. But they would make copies, branches of the original, make it even more interesting! Mess with the codes, change some characters, change some personalities or even swap them!

After the reassurance no harm would come to their beloved original, a lot of Voices each eagerly made a copy of their own. At first, the changes were minimal. Just alternate timelines, different outcomes. Changing a crucial decision, which ended up changing everything else with it. They felt awed, this was something new and entertaining.

Some loved the characters too much to hurt them, so they made bright and happy worlds. Other Voices loved the characters too much to make them boring in their point of view, so they made them suffer, making harsh and violent places.

Soon, other Voices that were wary at first, tried joining in. It was truly a spectacular sight! They decided to keep the characters, but change the world itself. One made a pair of twins, so similar yet as different as night and day. Other Voice made a place filled with Gods and inspired in mythology, since they loved it so much.

Another one made a creative skeleton, way too constricted by his own world because of his feelings. Unhappy with the results, that Voice abandoned their world and abandoned all together. They were frustrated, they didn't like how their own world turned out. That Voice left forever, to never come back.

The original one, the entity that suggested this in the first place, saw this. They took the Sans of that world, so damaged and broken, as their own. Just in the nick of time, too, since they barely managed to save him before his AU crumbled. The skeleton's soul was damaged, but this higher being didn't see anything to fix, oh no.

They saw an opportunity.

They noticed that more and more higher beings were going away, either abandoning their worlds or letting them evolve on their own. They could use this for their own advantage, for their own amusement.

That higher being, that Voice, ended up dubbed as Fate.

With gentle hands that didn't add up at all with their intentions, they gave the damaged skeleton a way to keep living, a purpose. To create and help the other Voices so they wouldn't quit too. Under Fate's rules, of course.

It became a flawed system fairly quick.

Fate was ambitious. They never had enough of this original world's variations. Feeling empowered and curious, they forced the Sans to keep creating. Always keep going, no matter what. To make more, to create more. To the Sans, it was a nightmare.

There was a moment were another Voice, a much kinder one that sympathized too much to let their beloved characters suffer in such a way, tried to intervene.

"Fate!" screamed said Voice, Destiny as the other used to call them. "Your chosen is creating too much, tell him to stop!"

"Stop?" Surely, Destiny was joking. This was the more entertainment they had had in ages! "We have so many possibilities, so many worlds... and you want me to stop?"

Destiny looked warily at their friend. Their once kind friend, the one who held so much love towards the original Undertale that suggested this copy system as to not damage it. Destiny wasn't blind, the strings holding everything together were way too tight, stretched thing. It was just a matter of time before it was too much and it pulled, bringing everything down with it.

"I'm sorry, friend, but I can't let you do this to our beloved creations. You need to stop and you need to stop now, before it's too late."

Destiny kept going, trying to reach out and convince the other. Fate wasn't listening, though. They just stared at Destiny, as if seeing them for the first time in their life. That gaze was so cold it froze Destiny down to their very core.

"You don't let me do anything, dear Destiny, because I do what I want" Fate began, before whispering in a threatening tone. "And if you keep insisting on getting in my way because of too much Creation, there's an easy solution for that."

Destiny startled, not sure where Fate was going with this. Suddenly, they felt a tug from inside them. Destiny gasped, in pain.

"I just need a Destroyer to balance the Creator. And since my dearest Ink has his soul in such state of disrepair, fragments barely holding together..." and Fate smiled cruelly at their friend's pain, for they took something from them. Or rather, someone. "How about I use that Sans you're so fond of, the one with just a fragment for a soul?"

Destiny's begging words fell on deaf ears, for it was too late. Destiny's chosen, their darling Geno Sans, had been coldly snatched away from them.

Fate looked at the little fragment in their hands, their glowing white hands twisting it until it was barely recognizable as the being it once belonged to. Smirking, Fate ignored the desperate Destiny and dropped their new Destroyer carelessly on the Multiverse, without caring where the other ended up.

"Go now, little destroyer. You're an error, a mistake. So erase the worlds that are one as well, for they do not deserve a place in my perfect Multiverse." Disregarding their original name, as fitting as Genocide would be for such a task, Fate addressed them as their new God of Destruction. An abomination. A glitch. "You're name from now on, is going to be Error."

Destiny just watched, impotent as the being they loved so was made into something new, something corrupted, something terrible and full of suffering. Destiny has always been one of the kindest, always trying to ease the suffering of the ones they favored. But all the kindness in their warm orange being could never forgive what Fate, that horrid and completely white higher being, had done.

Destiny swore, just as they watched the newly dubbed Error awake for the first time in the white of the Anti-Void, that they would make Fate loose their hold on those two skeletons. Forced gods shouldn't exist, neither of Creation nor Destruction. They prepared themselves to fight Fate, even if the white one was the strongest of the two.

At the very least, Destiny would give both Ink and Error a fighting chance.

______________________________

Ink had been creating a copy as he usually did nowadays, too tired to keep up with the speed Fate demanded of them. Creating new worlds took time and care, it was a long process, so they made due with what they could.

The copies were loathsome, in his opinion as an artist. It was one thing to remake a work of art until you got it just right. It was another thing entirely to just copy paste said work in another canvas, like it was a chore.

Ink knew that this could very well be the Multiverse's doom, so he found solace in the fact that even if the copies died, at least the rest of the Voices who had been locked out from interfering since Fate's take over, could still enjoy what would be left.

He was doing such a task, another copy of bittytale since Ink wanted to ensure the survival of at least one copy when everything inevitably snapped, when he felt it. An AU had crumbled. It hurt a bit, his soul way too broken to give him the feedback he should have otherwise.

At least he wasn't soulless.

At least he could feel something.

He couldn't even imagine the pain he would be in had he still been whole. Worried, since it felt way too soon for their Multiverse to collapse, Ink went to check out what had happened. When he arrived, multiple copies of Ghosttale and Undermafia were missing, freeing up more room for the AUs to survive.

It didn't look like the destruction affected any original around, as Ghosttale and Undermafia still existed.

The first clue he got was the sound of static. The second clue, a flash of black and navy blue. A skeleton, similar to himself in a sense, stood before him. Both looked at each other with dead eye-lights, before both widened their own eye-sockets in realization.

Another being, just like them but not. An opposite, for them to fight and balance. Amusement for the cruel Fate.

Just another twisted being forced to do a job as a God they didn't want.

They nodded at each other.

"Name's Error."

"I'm Ink."

One, a Sans that committed suicide because his AU had been abandoned by their Voice, the one who created the Core Code of that world. Fate saved him just in time to suit their needs and while they would have preferred a soulless Creator, one with their soul in shambles and barely holding itself together would have to work.

The other one, who was just as fragmented as their chosen God of Creation. A glitch that had managed to beat impossible odds to survive and thrive, start a family and have a happy ever after in his own way. Snatched from his life and family to suit the needs of a cruel system that was tipped against him. Would this glitch manage to beat impossible odds again? And if so, for how long?

How interesting. To Fate, this was perfect. The stage was set.

And so, the strings of Fate started manipulating the stage behind the scenes. But the unhinged Voice that was Fate was too focused on the events of their new favorite playground, ignoring Destiny. The orange higher being decided then and there what their strategy would be.

They would drain Fate to the best of their ability, as that was the only thing they could do unless the Sanses they were trying to rescue did something drastic. They would free Geno from Fate's chains, then drag Ink along to free both. It was just a matter of time.

#undertale #undertale game #undertale sans #undertale au #sans #sans au #sans the skeleton #error sans #Errortale #FGoD Error #ink sans #FGoC Ink #my stuff #my fanfic tag #fate #GOD OF DESTRUCTION #multiverse #sans multiverse

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fredriks · 4 years

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❝ What I’ve learned from a mirror? Look too hard and you’ll find you a stranger. ❞ FREDERICK ‘FRED’ WEASLEY II looks a lot like that muggle, JUSTICE SMITH, right? Only 19 years old, that GRYFFINDOR alumnus works as a TRAINEE HEALER and is sided with the ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. HE identifies as a CISMAN and is a HALFBLOOD. [ PLOT ARC 23, PROPHECY 26, THE DROWNED. ] (cami, she/her, 20, gmt+1)

DEATH TW, PANIC ATTACK TW, ANXIETY TW

PAST

george weasley, entrepreneur legendary, and angelina weasley, quidditch superstar, turned ireland’s national team manager. the couple was a shining example of success and happiness, and that only grew at the news that they’d soon have their first child. a new generation of the ever growing family was on its way, and fred was to take a quiet spot within it - not the eldest, not the youngest, just right.

born to salt and mist, fred grew up by the sea, in a house his father insisted he must build himself (and constantly repair, due to all the flaws in the construction). the irish coast is carved in sharp cliffs, and some of his very first memories are the wind at the very top - which he swears would have blown him away if his mother wasn’t holding him - and the clashing of waves, making the ground shake. small as he was, frederick didn’t fear the powerful water, but was drawn to it instead. to the contemplation of how much stronger and destructive that natural force was, to the beauty of it, to a humble acknowledgement. in retrospect, he knows this should have been his first fear. sometimes it even feels like a confirmation that there was never a mistake, he WAS brave, but perhaps simply lost it along the way.

a couple years later, roxanne joined the family. fred was always rather close with his cousins on both sides of the family, but roxanne was different. he couldn’t quite understand it, but it was with her that he developed his role of protector. even though they were so close in age, fred embraced his big brother place, and soon that tender caring way of being was shown to most, if not all. he’d rush faster than all to whichever cousin took a fall, his eyes would fill up with tears at the sight of the smallest bruise on his mother, the result of the quidditch matches she won. he quietly understood melancholic states way before he had any business in knowing what sadness was - his father got unexpected hugs and gifts of drawings after bad days at work, and at a certain date every year. from a rather young age, fred had a knack for emotional intelligence. (this is obv likely to change when we finally have a roxanne, which reminds me - GIVE US ROXANNE)

as a way to connect them to the muggle part of their heritage, angelina made sure her children got as much of a non-magical education as they could before they headed off to hogwarts. with two hard-working parents, it was also the most practical solution. thus, fred’s days were constant tastes of both sides, and that was simply his reality: in the morning he’d be walked to school, just a few streets away. they’d play and learn the alphabet and talk about their favourite cartoons. in the afternoon he’d sit with grandpa arthur, who seemed to ask lots of questions about rather normal things, or he’d “help” dad and his uncle at the store, which mostly meant passing coins from customers to the cashier (a rather important task). george and angelina worried about the potential signs of magic fred should one day show, and how they might ostracize him and later roxanne in such a society, but they soon learned they had little to fear.

fred took a little longer to begin showing clear signs of magic. long enough to bring around some speculation of him being a squib, but it turned out that his magic, regardless of his lack of control or the height of his emotions, was simply subtle - flowers bloomed a little more, a mirror fogged up, a loose thread on a shirt for pulled a few more centimeters. it still isn’t a flashy sort of magic to this day - sometimes it’s like his magic runs on a very empty pipe, leaking a few drops at a time only. others, it’s as if he’s working with a rather fine thread, rich but fragile. he’s yet to learn if there’s an actual block in his system that he need to work out, or if he’s simply carrying a type of magic he’s hasn’t fully understood yet.

when fred was still rather young, his family showed concern about his lack of complex speech, which soon developed into a very clear stammer. caring as they were, the couple tried all methods, magical and muggle, to help their young son - after lots of trial and error, they settled on a dublin speech therapist, who stuck by fred for most of his early life in constant sessions. the little kids who copied his stuttering with mockery in the playground soon became a foggy memory and at age twelve he had his very last session. his speech was fluent. “cured”, he’d thought.

his speech was intertwined with his signs of magic at first. most emotional reactions, which lead magical children to show uncontrollable magic, were conveyed through his stammer. if fred was nervous or angry, it intensified, or his voice was simply blocked. it took close attention for anyone to notice all of this, and his subtle works of magic, and to this day that is how it works for fred. his spells are subtle, almost dimmed. he has an eye for the small touches and delicate work, but can’t make a single thing explode.

then, it came the time to pick a side. there wasn’t much choice, given how it’d always been expected that the year he turned eleven, fred would move to hogwarts and leave the muggle world behind, so he didn’t say a word. however, there was real anguish in saying goodbye to his school friends and realising that the following year there’d be no way back. he was a wizard, who’d lead a wizard’s life. he BELONGED somewhere else. doing what was expected of him, the boy said a tearful goodbye to his parents, after confessing once again his fear of living away from them; held his little sister for as long as possible; and took his cousin’s hand, joining them in the whole chapter of his life.

HOGWARTS

GRYFFINDOR. fred had no preferences, so he was silent as the hat pondered for a few seconds, just short to a minute. at first the decision made sense - his family had a longstanding reputation in the house of roar, so why not? his namesake, the war hero fred weasley, had been a brave man. his mother was stoic and valiant against everything. frederick had never feared the waves.

the doubts took a few months to set in. shy and simple, his housemates often overwhelmed him, and the natural feeling of belonging that his family spoke about was a promise that never came. the true sense of displacement came after his very first winter break. he’d returned home, to his house, family, and beloved muggle friends he’d left behind. his routine briefly returned to what it was before hogwarts and january was a cold and harsh reality check - on the second day back, he drafted a letter to his mother, asking her to let him go home. but he never sent it. instead, he made the best he could with the little tools he had, deciding to become a great wizard, rather than a great lion. after all, fred could not quit. the temptation would be torturous, but he had higher expectations of himself.

fred made few but intense friendships, mostly with kids from other houses. he accepted the narrative that he was not brave, nor noble, much less the hero type, but instead a gryffindor legacy (and that was the sole reason of his placement). he focused on his grades instead, his dream job adapting from doctor to healer - sleepless nights and migraines to achieve the one goal he had in mind, even if he’d stopped feeling the pull towards it by third year.

from the very start, fred’s relationship with his magic was complicated. he enjoyed it, surely, and was able to perform it, but his biggest aptitude was for the theory of it all. essays, understanding the mechanics, homework. at times, it felt like not much about him would have been different, had fred stayed in the muggle world. sometimes, he even revisited that thought of leaving it all behind - but he never did. after all, he was a driven young man, he couldn’t QUIT.

everything changed in his final year. there’d been commotion in the background, but fred had willingly shut it off until his uncle’s murder. after all, the aurors got it, right? the legendary order of the phoenix got it, yeah? headmaster longbottom got it. HARRY POTTER got it. long gone were the days where children such as himself had to worry about dangers outside the stone walls of the castle, and fred had nothing in common with the generation past, who’d begun their own revolution from within hogwarts. uncle harry’s murder changed it all.

fred knew his limits and fears, and he’d never think of himself as a revolutionary, a child soldier. yet, his heart belonged to a kinder place, and he was good. out of all the uncertainties that surrounded him and his narrative, frederick knew for certain that he was a good person, and that the world required more of him than he’d been so far willing to give. on his final year at hogwarts, a spark of purpose lit up after he made one of the few spontaneous decisions in his life, and joined the newly formed knights.

as far as he could remember, fred was a protector, so the decision made sense. it was an unexpected decision nonetheless, but soon the boy realised that at last, something clicked. whenever their work got hard or scary, he didn’t wish to quit, but was energized by a hidden fire. for once, that flame didn’t feel dim. his passion didn’t waver, perhaps because it was more of a necessary task than a hobby. taking the codename of LUCAN - a loyal companion to king arthur even after he’d been hurt himself - fred channeled the bravery he’d never seen in himself. he channeled the knights from the myths of his group. his father and mother. his uncle fred. pushing himself to the very edge just to accumulate a little more kindle.

his seventh year was a haze. like an adrenaline rush, it went over his head. fred felt larger than life and than himself, too big for his skin. while starting his time at hogwarts was harsh, leaving was much harder. how could he in good conscience walk out when they were so close to their goal, to bring back the bravest man he knew? how could he leave them to their own devices? and selfishly, not that he’d admit it - how could he break away from his newfound purpose and from what he so devotedly believed int?

PRESENT

the order of the phoenix, counting legends among its ranks such as harry potter, alastor moody, marlene mckinnon, fred and george weasley - and now him. his friends at school collected their cards. he knew their legendary stories, some directly from the players’ mouths.

it was the logical next step, but when he joined, just some days out of hogwarts, there was a clear distinction. he was a child once more, rather than lucan, a brave knight. the knights weren’t seen as a necessary part of the war, the order couldn’t yet comprehend the work they’d been doing. neither could fred.

he took up the codename HORTON, after his patronus, an elephant. the mighty size of the animal, he speculates, is due to his own fears and how much he needs a big protector that can shield him - he’d never consider the possibility that there’s more of him within his small body, or that HE could be that very protector. the codename was the first thing that popped to his head, a memory of horton, the elephant, a character from dr. seuss books he was read as a kid. a kind and loyal character that somehow always achieved his goals, quite a good parallel. did he casually tell the older order people he wished would take him seriously that his codename came from children’s books? yes. no regrets.

graduated with the soul-crushing requirements for healer training, fred had a ten year plan drawn and step one was taken care of. it was beyond competitive, everyone trying to climb higher and get the best shot - a shock to his system. fred would fall asleep over books, the work consuming him even at home, and yet it wasn’t enough. ‘your heart isn’t in it’, an older healer said to him once, after yet another failure to keep up. it made no sense. on paper, he was the perfect candidate: kind, caring, smart, high grades. hands on? he froze, it was as if his tongue was stuck once more, words and actions unable to get out.

his heart wasn’t in it. it was busy with the order, where he kept trying to prove himself worthy despite his youth and inexperience. it was busy with his fellow knights, who he couldn’t leave hanging.

frederick knew that to be taken seriously, he had to close the door on the knights. outwardly he did so, but his research on the resurrection never ended - it was the only logical solution, and one that would bring such joy to his family and himself as well, or so he thought. letters and patronuses, secretly sending research back and forth, maps and notes and order secrets signed with LUCAN at the bottom. their work was too important to stop, and he hyper fixated on it, until death did its bidding.

first, do no harm. he was not a muggle doctor, but his code of ethics was the very same. on paper, they’d done all the right moves, but it ended terribly. appalled by the results, he fell into a deep hole once the consequences of his actions hit him. as a future healer, he should have known better than to meddle on life and death. as older, graduated, an ORDER member, he should have known better. as frederick weasley, with all the standards he’d self imposed upon himself, he should have simply known better.

guilt is a consuming feeling, corroding one from the inside out, soul and body. headmaster longbottom was murdered. they’d murdered him. he’d murdered him. and uncle harry, after a life of war, deserved to rest. he’d murdered him too, taking away all that he was and knew. there was blood on his hands.

the order could not know. if they were made aware of the extent of his actions, how he’d used their resources and knowledge to do this, how he’d not broken away after graduating, they might just kick him out. sure, he’d fed his fire too much too fast, resulting in the predicament he found himself in, but he couldn’t simply put it out. there was too much of himself depending on it, and surely he could still do some work. some good work. when asked, he justified that “it felt right then”, but never that he’d kept on going. the shame over the hurt he’s helped bring about is too heavy. now, more than ever, his younger fellow knights are stuck in war, and he can do less and less about it.

fred sets clearer lines now. terrified of what war can do to him, and how much of a slippery slope the feeling of usefulness and purpose is to him, he tries to keep himself in check. it barely works, though. his attention is on his healer work now, and how it can benefit the war. perhaps he was always meant to be a helper, not a fighter, or so he tries to convince himself.

he’s trying to prove himself to the order and earn their trust and respect, but is petulant enough to ignore the experience of the battle-tried leaders. how can he not when at times he’s seen a better way, and been in the very center of it? his attempts to rise up fail when he constantly disagrees with methods and positions, but his voice shakes after one simple denial.

OTHER

“The Drowned will ultimately survive the war, but they will pay dearly for it. Doomed to outlive their loved ones, death might have been a much kinder fate for them.” fred wishes he could apply muggle logic to prophecies and such, but that’s a chance he could never take. the allocation of prophecies and people is a game he’s played many times - that drawer in his bedroom full of half-empty notebooks had a distinctive coldness to it. a mathematician getting equations in place. however, he’s never even entertained the thought that he could be a part of it. even though there are more fates than leaders, he’s just assumed that the war shall be longer than expected, that others will join and be found.

he’s avoided the topic of mortality within a war, despite it having been the cause of many a demise within is family. during his heyday with the knights, he feared it often, but quietly. he feared for others mostly, and that still applies. the thought of his family and friends getting killed in the conflict drives him into full-blown breakdowns, so he’s learned to lock it out of his head.

fred will develop a strong sense of survivor’s guilt alongside his already rather intense guilt. the fact that he sees himself as a minor background character, rather than even a small player, and that he constantly feels like whatever he’s done is simply not enough - it all adds up to him never believing he deserved the win that is surviving over all the fallen. every time he needs saving on the field, that someone must disarm his opponents for him or that he purely freezes - it just plays in his head in a loop. how could he consider himself worthy of surviving when he needs so much aid to do so?

death is always a trade. he’s learned that with neville’s death. so who is being traded for him?

he has inherited absolutely none of his father’s famous knack for pranks and being a class and family clown, but rather the bits of dry humour he gathered from both him and angelina. he’s also just too lame in general for it, i love him

his father’s shop in diagon alley is his safe place. after a bad shift at st. mungo’s or with the order, it’s always there that he returns to. it’s more impersonal than home, so bringing that heaviness with him there doesn’t stain the memory of the place. and, of course, being there simply brings his mood up, be it the contents of the shop or his uncle, father and other employees who’ve quite literally seen him grow up. sometimes even when george isn’t there, fred will sit around in his office, or just help shelf stock, marvel for a bit at the creativity that goes into some of the products. however, he visits the hogsmeade location much less.

it was always obvious he’d likely into end up working at weasley wizard wheezes full-time, that his ambitions lied in different places. that was never really an issue within the family.

his work with the order is a bit all over the place, when they do allocate him a task (there’s a deep frustration growing within fred, though). he’s been doing some healing work, some field as well - although he’s not very good at it; most of all, he’s been doing logistics. moving refugees, spies, soldiers and objects under the radar, organizing who goes where and how - but all under very clear instructions from above. however that flame inside of him craves for more, for the rush once more.

bravery can come in subtle ways. it doesn’t need to be a showy explosion of dauntlessness, but rather a willingness to remain somewhere terrifying, and to give name, body and soul to something worthwhile. he’s horrified every day, though.

fred has very much built a narrative about himself and his lack of importance and bravery in his head. no matter how often he proves himself wrong, it’s quite hard to change the way you’ve always been thinking.

there’s something very CONTAINED about fred. it always feels like he’s not giving people more than a surface level insight, or that there’s a bubbling underneath, barely contained by his skin. even his closest family struggles with this. he doesn’t quite have a reason for it besides expectations he’s placed on himself - who should fred be? what would fred say? how would fred react to this? or perhaps there’s just something wrong with him, a glass wall between him and the world.

he has trouble expressing himself. he’s also quick to quit explaining himself anyway.

he’s used glasses since he was eight! goes for a thin rounder rim currently.

fred has truly kept all knights secrets to himself. despite not being able to deal with the consequences of their mission, he doesn’t see them and the order as partner entities, and his loyalty is much stronger with his armored friends.

in the last year or so, the techniques he’s learned to deal with his stammer have failed him. perhaps it’s due to the stress he’s been under, but fred has found himself more and more often stuck on a syllable, or fully unable to get any sounds out. especially when he needs to throw a spell out.

he wishes the order and thus the revolution would be safer, not visible at all even. does think they should feel like they have something to hide. they’d have so much more of an advantage if the whole world didn’t just know them so easily - but his complaints get ignored at the order, especially when he puts them out in a very distinctively know-it-all tone.

which he has most of the time. fred is very much a know-it-all, a tad arrogant even in that aspect.

“tell the truth and run”

please make him stop with this ‘i’m not that significant, all people considered’ mindset

fred has a tendency to accumulate until he bursts. his family and close friends have seen their fair share of intense breakdowns coming from frederick. on a smaller scale, panic attacks as well. but he’s never made any push towards getting professional help, passing it out as a ‘thing i do. we’ve all got those, yeah?’

his name is actually frederick, just often shortened to fred. but truly, he prefers the full version. it has a smarter more classic feel to it, and it also helps him forget who he’s been named after and all the complicated feelings that come with that

raised in coastal ireland, fred spent a lot of time growing up at his grandparents on both sides of the family, and in diagon alley and hogsmeade, where his family owned shops. his accent was a tad confusing before he joined muggle school, and then the irishness really fixed.

growing up in a very halfblood sort of environment and still having to this day close muggle friends had made him develop some rather muggle tastes, especially when it comes to technology and entertainment. huge video games enthusiast, we love a gamer

also loves chess though. and as much as he loves muggle things, nothing beats the rush of wizards chess

he was already graduated when the knights divided and got their daemons, so he didn’t exactly go that route, but he applauded their commitment to doing no further harm. he fears that himself, very often actually. that there’s nothing quite as strong stopping him from falling down the same rabbit hole again.

really close with his parents and sister. still lives at home but is planning on moving out soon, although that’s quite a daunting step and he’d miss their house by the sea.

breaks his glasses often

has a baby face and that only makes it harder for others to take him seriously

messy gay

george dropped out and followed his dreams. angelina was highly successful and passionate about her work. sometimes fred feels like he's lacking that drive and that one perfect goal in his life-long plan.

he’s the human embodiment of trying too hard

loving quidditch was not a question. raised in the cheering crowds, he got quite a privileged look inside the famous sport, having pictures with loads of quidditch stars, some of them being usual dinner guests back home. he learned to ride a broom quite young, but only applied for the hogwarts quidditch team once, in his third year. he got in, but left during his fifth to focus on his studies and his new role as prefect. he still watches professional games religiously, and is a die hard holyhead harpies fan., although his main allegiance was always shifting to where his mum was playing back then

a very easy crier. tells everyone to just ignore it.

grandpa arthur got special tours of his muggle schools whenever the family got invited to events and plays. just frederick pulling him by his hand and showing him everything and adoring the curiosity. he always loved mixing both sides of his life quite a lot.

his wand wood (black walnut) doesn’t do well with inner turmoil and loses some of its accuracy and finesse. he’s been struggling with that a lot - always has, but in the past few months more than ever. catch fred throwing it against a wall and leaving the room, only to return and apologise 5 seconds later.

STATS

name: FREDERICK ( named after his uncle. meaning ‘peaceful ruler’. ) LLYR ( meaning ‘the sea’. ) WEASLEY II

age: nineteen

date of birth: 6th of july, 2006

hometown: lahinch, ireland

current location: lahinch, ireland

gender: cis-man

pronouns: he/him

orientation: so gay

blood status: halfblood

hogwarts house: gryffindor

financial status: upper middle-class

spoken languages: english and can read ancient runes.

occupation: trainee healer

sun sign: cancer

moon: scorpio

mbti: ISTJ-T

moral alignment: lawful good

four temperaments: melancholic

element: water

enneagram: type 1 (the reformer)

father: george weasley ( b. 1978 )

mother: angelina weasley née johnson ( b. 1977 )

siblings: roxanne weasley ( b. ??? )

pets: a dog named lando and a snowy owl named hugh.

wand: black walnut, phoenix feather, twelve inches, reasonably supple.

patronus: elephant

electives: arithmancy & study of ancient runes

NEWTs: arithmancy (A), transfiguration (O), potions (E), herbology (E), charms (O), DADA (E)

hogwarts extracurriculars: prefect, quidditch chaser (3rd-5th year), briefly in the charms club during 4th year

favourite subject: study of ancient runes

least favourite subject: astronomy

#rev intros #i love himw ith my whole heart

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