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mardytoast · 4 months

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besides tolkien being the 'boring one' in high school fics he's usually the designated party man because RICH. only exists as the rich black dude who everyone crashes the mansion or other rich residences of, and then sometimes tweek is the resident high school coke dealer (and not the drink).

omg i forgott about that.

'only exists as the rich black dude who everyone crashes the mansion.. of' i definitely agree, it's like people only want him as an npc with a mansion when hes really so much more. with the whole being rich thing, and then he's literally one of three black people on a little redneck mountain town?? come onnn.

yeah so tolkiens not allowed to be a normal teenager (drink, do drugs, commit crimes, be generally irresponsible) but he throws all the parties? talk about double standards. like do people in the fandom want him to be wild or boring.

tolkien being rich is something I feel like writers don't take advantage of. from the one episode where the kids were having a go at him for being rich he got hurt and tried to get other rich kids to come to south park. he obviously doesn't really know how to handle his wealth among the mostly lower middle class population of South park. is it that he IS responsible and let's people take advantage of him and his house to host parties? or is it that he's pretty humble and chill, and even though he doesn't really do.that stuff he's happy to host. or he simply likes partying so he hosts.

anyways im not sure if you've seen my other lil coin posts where i advocate for rascal tolkien, I'd say this ask is from my fanon post. but im using it as another way to keep talking about tolkien because he doesn't receive enough attention. your ask is more of an observation about his fanon so im kinda just talking about my own thing sorry😔. if there's anything else on his character you'd like me to talk about id love you to send another ask.

as well for tweek, i haven't really seen him being depicted as an actual dealer, more of just a meth head. kennys usually resident dealer to my knowledge. I feel like tweek being a drug dealer could honestly be good for his character. that sounds so bad and addiction is obviously not good but it'd be cool for his character to be more than just anxiety. maybe being a well known (i use that loosely, well known to buyers) druggie would garner a bit more respect as for some reason ppl think you're tough when you're into that kinda think, even though it suggests the opposite. im tired of seeing tweek getting bullied and pushed around when we know he's actually pretty fiery. he's well able to hold his own in any argument and can manipulate situations in his favour (oh yeah? and who's michael). there's so many fics where tweek is the main character and it's his perspective but writers still seem to write only one type of tweek. I've seen: social wreck bc he's just kinda like that, social wreck bc of all his medical conditions and bad parenting, and maybe a wild card here and there. consider that the meth has done one thing 'good' and make him chill.

so im pretty sure i didn't relate to you're ask at all and honestly i wasn't even planning to talk about tweek but my mind just kinda runs away from me. I love character analysises so asks are always open of you want me to spill my opinions on your favs

#give him dreads and call him lil coin #south park #tolkien black #ao3 #fanfic #tweek tweak #sp tolkien #sp tweek

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kadeuxhyeonju · 3 years

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‘Tis the Year

Kadeu, Hearts Territory, The Vega Gem

13 Sunday, 2020 0600-1000

Though the sun had yet to rise properly and greet the citizens of Kadeu, Hyeonju was already up, preparing for the day. Opening the curtains of his apartment windows, the Heart looked out into the darkness. It was quiet as always. He hadn’t been getting much sleep as of late and his bouts of insomnia were leaving him restless. Itching to keep himself busy and his mind away from darker thoughts, he’d taken to spending the evenings (or rather the wee hours of what could hardly be called morning) arranging and rearranging the Vega Gem and going over his books. It seemed this day would be no different.

With hardly a thought, Hyeonju dressed himself, plucked his favorite bladed fan from the shelf that housed his collection, and made his way down to the shop. Prepping the shop for opening was as second nature as shifting into a fox; it hardly required thought or energy. Displays were wiped down, shelves were dusted, jewelry was polished to a pristine shine. He switched out specialty pieces for others—to keep the interest of his customers, naturally; they loved shiny new pieces. He glanced at his pocket watch—0530. He had plenty of time before opening. Alexei and the rest of the staff wouldn’t be in until 0800, an hour before opening. Hyeonju strode toward his office, deciding to move on to the paperwork and financial records that called for his attention.

Hyeonju paid little attention to the time, focused on responding to his stack of inquiries from business partners and customers alike. He was hardly finished with his fourth letter when he heard what he could only describe as a rumble that seemed to shake the air around him. In the distance he heard shrieks and shouts—unusual considering how thick the walls of the Vega Gem were. Before Hyeonju had a chance to process the sounds of panicked citizens and the growing thickness of the air around him, a deafening crash broke through his thoughts.

Something almost like dread pooled in the Heart’s stomach, but rather than succumb to it, his former Spade training kicked in. Hyeonju pulled a gilded blade from a hidden alcove under his desk. His fan was tucked against his side. With quick, determined, silent strides, he made his way to the front of the shop where the noise had come from.

And froze in shock.

“What the fuck.”

Two winged demonic creatures were hopping around like apes, smashing through his expensive displays and—

“Like hell you’re running off with that you lil’ shit! That’s worth more than even half your worthless life!”

One had taken notice of a particularly shiny crown embedded with the highest quality diamonds, garnets, and lapis lazuli. The other had taken notice of the Heart and was emitting what he could only describe as something between a growl and a screech. Hyeonju’s combat training kicked in. He could feel the change overcome him both physically and mentally. Bodily, his fox burst forth in all its glory. His nine tails fanned out, bristling with unrestrained rage; his black-tipped fox ears were flat against his head, canines were fully displayed, claws elongated to sharp points, and eyes glowing a deep amber.

Mentally, Hyeonju was watching the demonic creatures—for that is all they could be, though he’d never seen their like in his century and a half of life—looking for an opening. The one holding the crown was trying to make off with it, but the hybrid moved quickly, bounding across the show floor with an agility not usually seen. He gripped the knife in his left and reached out with his right, digging claws into the creature’s back. It howled in pain and fury, twisting to retaliate, but Hyeonju was already moving, blade sinking deep into the ugly thing’s eye socket. Turin poured from the wound and the creature flailed. Hyeonju was about to strike again when he was batted away and across the room by the other creature.

Hyeonju slammed against the edge that marked the wall from the ceiling and down onto the marble floors back first—hard. “Fuck. I think I just cracked my ass,” he growled through gritted teeth. He tried to lift himself from the floor, but the creature that had hit him threw its full weight onto his chest. Hyeonju let out a cry that was really a snarl even as the creature batted the hybrid with its gnarled hands. Hyeonju heard more than felt the give of his ribs as they snapped, forming blades of their own that sunk deep into his stomach.

The adrenaline was running strong and Hyeonju used that to his advantage. He no longer had the knife, it being embedded still in the other demon who he could make out in the corner of his eye. Flashbacks of his Spade training flitted in his mind and his body reacted on muscle memory. Ignoring the—severe—pain that wracked both his stomach and buttocks, the hybrid pulled one leg up to wrap around the creature’s leg while the other braced against the floor. His hands gripped the creature by the shoulders and in one fluid movement, Hyeonju used the creature’s weight to throw it up and over his head.

It was stunned, but only for a moment, Hyeonju knew. He blinked, mind racing, before settling on creating a handful of illusions that looked like him, though perhaps a bit less clear, fuzzy around the edges. Seeing as they were human-sized and human-like, Hyeonju wouldn’t be able to keep the illusions going for very long, but he didn’t need them to—he just needed to make sure he could land a decisive blow or hope help arrived before these disgusting creatures hit the correct Hyeonju.

He didn’t know how much time passed—fifteen minutes, perhaps, twenty tops—before he heard the tell-tale signs of swords clashing just outside. Hyeonju was panting now, even as he dodged blow after blow, swinging his fan down and out in attempts to land a hit, but the creatures were too fast and he was too injured. His illusions were fading out and he knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he did too.

His moment of distraction cost him.

Seeing an opening, the demon with the crown lunged at Hyeonju’s blind spot. Hyeonju tried to dodge, but a bout of dizziness made his steps clumsy and he fell across the shattered glass of the shop’s front window. The hybrid let out a weak, but angry snarl, but the creature merely bounced around on the displays before pouncing on the one nearest the Heart, knocking the large unit over—and towards Hyeonju. The hybrid tried to scramble out of the way, but the other demon was in front of him ready to rake its claws at him.

A resounding crunch filled the Vega Gem—and Hyeonju howled in agony as his left hand was flattened by the display case.

Hyeonju was hardly able to see past the red that filled his vision, but he could see Joui’s soldiers piling through the entrance of his shop. He saw the demon creatures scramble to escape the Fae and their weapons, spread their wings and fly off with a handful of his most expensive pieces.

SHIT.

One of them was Joui’s commissioned piece. How in the gods’ names did they get ahold of that? It didn’t matter now. Joui would have to get to him first before the Heart’s wounds offed him and he didn’t think that was likely given the state he was in. All Hyeonju could do was flop against the marbled floors that were now coated in glass, jewels, turin, and blood and let the last of the adrenaline seep out of him. Exhaustion overtook him and the pain was now hitting him full force. The Fae soldiers were approaching the hybrid, ignoring the instinctive growls that emitted from low in his throat. He could only imagine how he must look to them, though he was sure they hardly cared.

“Can ya take me to the nearest and best healer? Or put me in a carriage and send me off to them. Think I’m dyin’ haha! Fuck. This is such bullshit. 2020 is FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT! Can’t even end the year on a sexy note. I’m all bloody, I’ve got a stomachache, my ribs are cracked, my fucking ass is cracked, and my shop, my precious shop--look at my shop--LOOK AT IT. My hand, dammit. How am I supposed to do my work like this?” Ah, the shock was kicking in. Good thing the creatures hadn’t swiped the heavy pouch of coin sitting nestled in possibly the only spot that hadn’t been torn to shreds by them. He was going to have to pay a pretty coin to get patched up and fix his shop.

A-FUCKING-GAIN.

#kadeuxhyeonju #self-para #self para #'tis the year #juju is going THROUGH IT #HAPPY YEON NEN AND NEW YEAR \OJO/#he most definitely did NOT say

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crowleyellestair · 4 years

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Drunken Confessions - Geralt of Rivia

AN// just a lil blurb. I’m thinking of making a Regis blurb, but I’m not sure if anyone else wants one...

The legend was that Witcher’s didn’t have emotions. The Trial of the Grasses was supposed to wipe them, allowing the Witchers to be passive in all situations outside of monster hunting. Geralt had yet to decide if he was grateful or not for not having that part of him wiped. It made him feel human. He’s lived enough to not desire to be human, but it made him more comfortable about being around Y/n. It made him think that he was less of a monster- less of what he killed to protect her from every day.

She had worked hard to wipe his notions about himself that revolved around calling himself a monster, and it was only recently that he finally had an inkling of finding truth in her words. Y/n often made him forget about the struggles of the world and who he was whenever she was near. She was the match in a dark, bottomless pit that he had to fall through. It made him not dread anything that could be sent his way the next day. Y/n had wiped the night terrors from his sleeping form, bringing peace and merging it with his past. She had found bright outlets and pure, fair options to every crossroad they face.

Y/n was his weakness.

He could be broken physically, and often is when overpowered. But, if Y/n was taken from him in good health, he would be lost. He had forgotten how to live without her or living with the thought of not meeting her again. Geralt had decided she was his endgame. If she was taken from him for good, he had lived long enough to be okay with leaving the living world with her.

And Geralt would laugh internally at the prospect.

It was an action only found in one of the bard’s dramatic love stories- the ones that usually annoy Geralt, but he knew it was true. He didn’t want to live in a world without the sun.

Despite all of that, Geralt has never been able to figure out how to express it.

At first, he thought that he was cursed, never being able to physically say the words ‘I love you’, but he practiced on Roach one night and found he was perfectly fine. And the mare had been floored, so it had turned out to be a plus for the man. He had thought maybe it wasn’t a curse that impaired him from saying it all together, but telling it to whom he truly loved. One night, when they laid next to each other on a dull cot, he tried.

To save coin they’d share a room, and since the blankets were thinner than paper, they would share body heat. Y/n was cuddled into his chest, his arms wrapped around her. They were both on their sides, curled into the other, living in their own world. Y/n was a deep sleeper, so he knew he’d be safe, even if he was silently hoping she would, in fact, hear him. His nose brushed her hair as he moved to whisper into her ear. Geralt’s voice was quiet, but firm, pushing the three words past his lips. At first, he thought she had heard as she shifted seconds later, pushing her nose as deep into the crook of his neck as she could, but her slow heartbeat said otherwise. Even after finally deciding he wasn’t cursed; he still couldn’t voice his thoughts.

It was decided soon after, that he would try and show her. Turns out, that was just has hard.

Jaskier pushed him to go out of his comfort zone and character by getting her mountains of flowers, or by bringing her back her weight in black pearls. Geralt would always push down the notions, however, deciding that she wouldn’t like them almost as much as he didn’t, but there was always that nagging voice in his head telling him that maybe she would like it. And for a preacher of love, Jaskier was useless to his problem.

Though, it wasn’t for long as the bard had noticed something one night in Novigrad.

Y/n made her coin by being a prestigious Gwent player. Novigrad was known to have the fiercest players on the continent, and it seemed that she had started quite the rally in the tavern. Jaskier was playing tense yet triumphant sounds to give ambience to the game. Y/n was going up against the leading player of the game, and the room was flooded with onlookers. Geralt had been coming back from claiming his reward when he noticed Y/n was the center of attention. At first, Geralt had stood on the sidelines, not finding a reason to push through the crowd. It wasn’t until Stergion, her opponent, started to throw out insults. Y/n had remained collected and quiet, never speaking except to announce her moves. He didn’t know what came over him, but he pushed through the large crowd, standing behind her. Geralt couldn’t do anything, and he didn’t understand why he was there, but he thought it would somehow help. He raised a hand, placing it on her slouched shoulders.

Her face unraveled from it’s tight, concentrated look to push up and find his eyes. When their gazes met, a smile plastered, and it hadn’t left till the game was over. She looked to Stergion, straightening her posture, and found a new confidence. The game was over the moment Geralt had showed his support. It was an easy win for the woman, even acting the loser, fooling Stergion and his followers.

The three of them celebrated, having won an immense amount of coin. Though Jaskier was smart to do so, he bet all of Geralt’s coin on their match. Five hundred orens turned into two thousand, and the trio was in paradise. It was on top of the thousand she had made from just Stergion himself. Jaskier and Y/n drunk themselves to a point of no return, but it seemed the rest of the tavern had as well. Jaskier was flailing around, losing his lute, but continuing the songs. There had been a large crowd of people who had begun dancing around the tavern, and Y/n had easily coaxed Geralt to join her. The two didn’t join the crowds large dance, only doing their own thing in the dark corner of the tavern.

Geralt wasn’t really dancing, but just standing and holding her hands was enough to convince her that he was. A gentle smile never left his face as he stared down at her.

“You know,” she leaned back, arms wrapping around his neck. She paused, staring into his shining eyes who would never stop staring back. Geralt was half convinced that she wasn’t as drunk as she let on, the clear look she always gave him showing better than ever before. A look he could never place, but had Jaskier laughing anytime he saw it. “I can’t ever let you go. You’re like a personal lucky charm!” Her voice was quite loud, but she then leaned in close, as if the next part was a secret. As if she was conspiring about Geralt to Geralt. “I might have to find a fairy or something and ask them to shrink you down. I could carry you around in my pocket, and never let you go. You’d never have to worry about anything again, and I wouldn’t have to worry,” she paused to hiccup,” about you leaving.” His brows pinched at the end of her rambling. His hands had found a home on her hips a while ago, but he squeezed them as if to make sure he had her full attention.

“What do you mean leave?” Y/n laughed a somber tone before resting her head on his shoulder. She swayed back and forth, hearing a slow song in her head despite the faced paced music around. A hand that rested on his chest came up to gently touch the bridge of his nose.

“You know what I mean, Galivanting Geralt.” Y/n laughed again at her own nickname, but it faded. Her gentle touches moved to his cheek, then traced over his lips. Her fingers stayed there a moment as she said, “You wished for it. Won’t you always find Yennefer?” Anger gripped his heart, but only at the thought of leaving Y/n.

“How do you know about that?”

“My best friend Julian told me.” Her hand dropped, and she leaned in further to him. “It’s ok. I wish you would stay. I’d love if you’d stay. But I get wrinkly in the tub.” A confused chuckle leapt from him as he tilted to meet her eyes. He spoke as gently as he could, starting to sway the two when she stopped.

“We all get wrinkly in the tub.” She shook her head, finally breaking their gaze.

“I’ll still be wrinkly out of the tub. And cranky, much like you, but I won’t have time. You have soooooo much time. I wish for you to stay. But that’s selfish! But my heart,” she whispers, as she argues with herself. “My heart begs you to stay-.” Her sentence was finished by Jaskier jumping and wrapping his arms around his two friends. Y/n immediately lit up and started laughing along. As much as Geralt wanted to be upset at the bard for jumping in on their moment, he knew they were both drunk.

With a heavy sigh, and throbbing heart, he wrangled the two into their rooms.

The next morning, Jaskier’s head never left its pace in his hands. The boys sat in the tavern, eating a free meal given by the Tender as thanks for the coin brought in the night before. Geralt looked to Jaskier, smirking at the now silent form.

“You two really had fun last night.” Jaskier grumbled, looking to his companion.

“I hate drinking.” Geralt rolled his eyes, then continued to eat his eggs. After a long moment, Jaskier stared at the stairs. The Witcher’s gaze followed, but found nothing there. “Where’s Y/n?” Geralt’s brows pinched again at the bard, as if the answer was obvious, and giving it was too much effort.

“She’s sleeping off her ale.” It was Jaskier’s turn to look quizzical, and it threw the larger man off for a moment.

“Y/n’s first three rounds were just water. There’s no way she’s hung over.”

And that just floated in the air for a moment.

And then another.

Until he realized that her clarity had been questioned for a moment. And everything she said could have been things she wholly meant. And Jaskier caught his surprised look, laughing for a moment as he figured out why. He remembers seeing the two embracing from the night prior, and laughs even more as Geralt all but sprints up the stairs.

Jaskier knew he wasn’t going to do anything when he got to the woman’s room, his emotions being too much for him to express. The bard could only speculate, thinking that he’d stand there, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. Y/n would brush it off, and they’d all be on their way. He did entertain the thought of his friend actually going through with it, but he won’t know till the two came down for the rest of breakfast.

#geralt x reader #geralt imagine #wither imagine #witcher x reader

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gingerwritess · 5 years

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hiii

sorry i was in the mood for some pining so here’s this angsty lil thing. i’m going to continue it don’t worry and just imagine this is with thor 1 loki, smol lil greasy weasel who doesn’t know anything about love ugh

also just think. this angstiness ends happily in love with beautiful children, elliot and baby 2 ;) i just want to explore how we got there!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Let’s play a game.”

Loki leans forward on his forearms—you find yourself drawn towards him, too.

“Let’s touch each other,” he murmurs, and you immediately push away from him in disgust.

“Every time I think you’ve changed—”

“No, that’s not…that’s not what I meant.” He rubs his eyes with two fingers and a sigh. “We should touch, as in we should try not shying away from each other’s touch.”

A cold hand moves to cover your clenched fist.

“Let’s not refuse each other’s hands,” he continues, “let’s welcome arms around our waists, let’s…speak sweetly and kindly to each other, touch our lips together. Frequently.”

You swallow hard. “Sounds like you’re saying we should date.”

“No.” He shakes his head, something scarily close to fear crossing his eyes. “No, this wouldn’t be dating, courting, committing, love…this would be just another game for us to play.”

“What’s the prize? How do I win?”

“First one to fall loses.”

“That doesn’t scare you?” You can’t help it and lean in closer to hear his almost-whispered voice. “Living like that? So close to each other? So close to being in love?”

He bares his teeth in something between a scowl and a pained grimace. “If its a game, then I can win. I can beat you, best you in another competition and then everything that we…” his voice falters as he gestures between the two of you. “Everything that w-we might have been can be buried in the past, and the both of us leave each other better off.”

“Better off,” you repeat, casting your gaze to your connected hands. That feels scarily right. “We’d be better off without each other, right?”

“Absolutely,” he breathes. “I’m a disease in your blood, and I don’t want you.”

“Alright.”

You stand, a stoicism to your face as if you were marching into a war. Loki has to remind himself you are.

“Three days to win,” he smiles, lacing your fingers together. It’s an empty smile, just another illusion as he ignores the warmth of your hand in his. “Three days and we part ways all the better. As unlikely acquaintances. Agreed?”

In that moment, staring down at him smiling up at you, you bury the last fragment of Loki that you allowed to take hold in your heart—he doesn’t want you, he’s made that clear, and it’s true. He is toxic for you, he’s an alien, for god’s sake, nothing about the two of you could work.

Unnatural, misfitting, just wrong, horribly tempting as it has been as long as you knew him. Three days and you’ll never have to see him again, just…win this competition.

It’s easier, I guess, to acknowledge a sin and keep doing it, knowing you’ll fix yourselves in three days time.

* * * *

“I don’t like this,” you whisper, welcoming his tongue once again into your mouth.

His grip on your hips tightens and he pulls away, staring up at you with dark eyes and parted lips still glistening from you. “You don’t?”

“Don’t stop.”

Mouths meet once more, hot and cold, ice and fire thrashing and burning and freezing over again and again and this time it’s your hands in his hair, rough and pulling his head back to better reach his lips.

“You’re stupid,” you groan when he gently bites your bottom lip, “I hate you, Loki, despise you, I really do. I don’t like this.”

For the first time, you’ve got him gasping for breath along with you, and he grins against your exploring tongue. “Am I winning?”

”I’m—trying—” you kiss him harder, rocking your hips and running your hand down his neck “—to make you lose.”

Those dreaded hands, something now that seem straight out of your nightmares, slide under your shirt, ice against your bare skin.

“Stop that,” you seethe, jolting at the new sensation. “Stop, Loki, I’m not crossing that line for this stupid game.”

His hands return to your hips—he curses himself, that wasn’t supposed to happen. He almost slipped.

You take that as your cue to roll off of him, a hand on his chest pushing him away until your lips break apart with a pop. Arms cross over your chest and you throw a sideways glance at the young god, noting the flush on his cheeks and heaving of his chest, the hands over his groin undeniably covering something he’d rather not confess to.

“I think I win today,” you tell him as you stand, a hint of smugness in your voice. You adjust your shirt, wipe off your mouth with the back of your hand. Grab your bag and head to the door, as if making Loki wish he could have you is just another errand you run.

“You’ll want me tomorrow,” he calls out before you leave, voice hoarse and strangled.

Bastard.

I want you today.

You give him a cold smile, thin ice that’s already cracking. “Good luck with that.”

* * * *

He knows he’s losing—three nights in a row he’s lost sleep because of you, and tonight it’s making him livid.

Gods, he wants you.

Badly.

For selfish and vain reasons, he knows, but that doesn’t change anything. He wants you, and Loki Odinson does what he wants.

It’s the only power he’s been given his entire life, just the power to control what he gets, what he does; the only way for him to feel a sick control of himself is to stop at nothing to get or do what he wants.

But he wants you.

He’s tired of wanting.

Loki won his stupid game today. You played to his rules, you called him your sweetheart, he called you his darling, he pushed aside his more carnal desires long enough to win…but today when he kissed you, you broke down in tears.

Victory is sour.

It was supposed to work—give in to the clearly wrong desire to be together for three days only, try it knowing it’s a guise, just to empty your systems of each other before Loki leaves for Asgard once and for all.

He’s back in his chambers, alone, noticing too much: too big of a bed, too big of a shower, everything is too big just for him. After a painful shower trying to scrub your touch out of his skin, he lays in his too big bed and lets himself slip.

It’s a pipe dream, the fantasy of a child, but he dredges it up from the pits of his mind before he can stop himself.

A hand intertwined with his, soft lips against his own. A smile for him across a room, chiming laughter at his doing. A home, just for him and the blank face that’s filled this spot for centuries, a home with a bed that wouldn’t feel so empty.

You start taking that blank space and suddenly it’s you, all you and you’re holding a child, a baby that looks like him, you’re smiling for Loki, laughing with his child and holding out your hand to him. Then he kisses you and you don’t cry.

Oh gods above, he wants you.

The god rolls onto his stomach in the empty bed and buries his face in the pillows; you’re kissing him with gentle lips, whispering in his ear as he shows you the Asgardian night sky, softly touching him with warm hands that only make him crave more of you.

He needs to stop thinking about this—his eyes close and you’ve knocked his book out of his hands to take its place, straddling his lap and kissing away every last trouble or insecurity he’s ever felt in all the years he’s been alive.

Stop. this.

The worst part is that now he knows you want him, too.

The projection of you in his mind reaches for the hem of your shirt and Loki’s eyes fly wide open—NO.

Not crossing that line, you said. He has to respect that.

“I want you,” Loki whispers aloud, hating himself for actually forming the words in the air in front of him. “I want you, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”

* * * *

You’re no better off, back on earth, but when Loki materialises on the sidewalk on your walk to work, the last thing you’re even close to feeling is happy to see him.

“You won,” you snap, taking another bite of your half a bagel and not slowing your pace. “Leave me alone, Loki.”

“Please listen to me.” He’s walking like royalty, a cool and collected facade, but you can hear the desperation in his voice. “For just a moment, please, give me a chance.”

A shake of your head and you cross the street, followed close behind by the persistent god. “Your coffee’s gone cold,” he hums after a moment, hands clasped behind his back. “Let me get you a fresh cup, ten minutes is all I ask.”

A sip of the coffee that you just bought for upwards of five dollars tells you Loki definitely turned that cappuccino ice cold just now.

Asshole.

“I’m only doing this for the coffee,” you tell him as you stand in line at the nearest coffee shop, Loki next to you trying to count bills and sort a handful of coins.

Disgustingly domestic, he notices as he drops a couple coins, this is practically a date. Standing in line together, buying each other things. You grabbing the money out of his hand and counting it for him, calling him an idiot.

His heart swells.

Of course, it’d be nice if you felt the same. Or would give him even half a smile.

But…your brow stays furrowed as you shove past him after ordering, flopping into a seat by the window and taking an angry bite of your bagel. He follows cautiously, wishing he could understand you.

“Well?” You wave a hand at the chair across the table. “Start talking.”

“You want me.” He sits back in his chair, looking so damn sure of himself. “And I’m not going to be the one to keep you from what you want.”

“No.”

“What?”

You grab your fresh cup of coffee, nod to the god across the table, and stand to leave. “I don’t want you. Thank you for the drink, I’m leaving now.”

“No!” Loki shoots to his feet and grabs your arm, making you jump and wrench your arm from his grip. He quickly drops you and holds his hand up. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, please…please stay. Just a second longer.”

Against your better judgment, you slowly sit back down.

“You say you lost the game,” Loki starts, carefully stepping around his words. “Which means you admit to falling in love with me. Yes?”

“Those were the rules.” You drum your fingers on the table, unamused.

“If you have fallen in love with me…then you want me.”

“No.”

Loki’s fist hits the table with a loud thud. “Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Why not?” The facade cracks and Loki slumps in his chair, shoulders sagging like a defeated man. “At least tell me why, what you mean. Please.”

“You made me a game, Loki.” You can’t help but laugh, humourless and cold. “You literally made any feelings we had for each other into a game, idiot, and now you think that made me fall for you??”

He gives a tiny shrug. “I…competing allows me to win.”

“So you’re afraid of losing?”

“No,” he snaps, and you raise an eyebrow at him that makes him scowl. “No, I’m not afraid of losing. Don’t make me into a child.”

“Look,” you sigh, dropping your forehead to your hand. “If you’re just going to deny everything I say then there’s no point in us talking.”

Arms cross. Lips press together. A wave hitting a seaside cliff, unmoving.

“I just don’t understand,” he finally mutters, and you take a drink as he searches for the right words. “I…I want you.”

“You admit that?”

He hesitates and looks down at the table. “Yes.”

“You made me a game,” you remind him, finishing your breakfast and picking up your bag again. “You made me a game and said you won, but I guess we both lost. Thanks again for the coffee, Loki.”

You’re halfway out the door when a cold hand grabs yours and spins you back around. “Loki, I’m going to be late…”

“I get it.” He brings your hand to his lips and you try not to cringe. “I understand. You’re not a game, and that was my mistake.”

“And?”

The god smiles, a desperate and pleading attempt to show himself to you, getting nothing in return. “You’re not a game, you…you are the prize, coveted by many but won by few—”

“Go home, Loki.”

You’ve pulled your hand from his grip and walked out the door before he can even process what just happened.

* * * *

“I want you!” He’s running, for the first time you’ve seen, he’s running after you and dodging people on the busy sidewalks as he calls after you. “I admit to it, I want you, please—”

You turn on your heel and he nearly crashes into you, chest to chest for a blissful second before your finger is in his face, sharp as your words.

“Why would I want someone who wants me??” You jab your finger into his chest. “Someone who wants me all to themselves, as a prize, a trophy, someone so selfish all they can think of is wanting me—”

“What are you talking about??” Loki feels on the verge of tears; disgusting.

“I don’t want you, Loki.”

“You said you fell for me, said that I won, what is that supposed to mean then??”

“I don’t want you,” you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief at the young god raging in front of you. “I want to love you, Loki, I don’t want you.”

People around the two of you keep pushing, the throng nudging your shoulders as you stare at each other, Loki’s mind racing.

“I’m not a prize for you to win.” You give him a small smile and shoulder your bag. “If all I am to you is something you want, then I don’t think I can love you. Go back home.”

He can’t tear a single word from his throat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you laugh and rest a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But you need to grow up. Maybe stop by when you’re mature enough to separate wanting from needing, lust and love, and maybe we can talk.”

Want and need, lust and love...his head spins and the god feels faint.

“I can’t wait for you, though.” Your smile turns sad, at least he likes to think it did. “Go home, Loki.”

Watching you walk away might be the hardest thing Loki has ever had to do.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @little-scintilla @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai

#loki reader insert #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader angst #loki imagine #boyfriend!loki #loki angst #loki love #young loki #loki requests #loki drabbles #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson

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lumiereswig · 5 years

Text

hey all so i just saw ‘hadestown’ and feel duty bound to tell you fools everything about it because i, too, remember what it is to be lonely and on the internet and too poor to see some snazzy broadway shit

there’s no fanfare or anything. the show opens with all the cast coming on—and obviously the audience is going buckwild, especially with amber gray. (u can tell there’s a lot of great comet fans in the audience.) only once everybody is settled does hermes really TAKE THE STAGE.

and boy does he take it. sassy lil shit knows he owns it and just stands there taking in his audience, before flipping his jacket back with dramatic flare (to show his SNAZZY-ASS SILVER THREADED VEST) and starting to sing. (cue noisy wah-wah trombone.)

the setting is p. clearly a bar; orpheus p. clearly works there. he’s like being artsy with the napkins and shit, blossoming them into roses. eurydice is a traveler; she carries with her, wrapped in brown silk, an alter candle that she lights. (after sassing hermes into giving her a match to light it with.) eurydice balances her candle with the paper rose orpheus later makes and gives to her.

orpheus is pretty childlike and dreaming in this version. (not the cocky boy from the off broadway production.) he comes off as kind of lanky and awkward and not quite there; naive is definitely a defining adjective for him. everything about him is soft and gentle and in a dreaming world.

eurydice is kind of a classic tough girl but she’s got a strand of helplessness to her. she puts on a show of not being impressed by orpheus until he sings her the song he’s working on, and manages to bring a rose into his palm.

environmental collapse is a HUGE theme thru this—bigger than i thought it would be. eurydice’s first lines are about how there’s no spring or autumn anymore; everything is winter or summer, too hot or cold to live. the fates sing of the winds—the fates sort of torment her throughout this—but climate change looms as a dread through the show. orpheus hopes his song will bring back summer, put the seasons back in tune.

anyway, everyone’s hanging out at a new orleans style bar. even hades and persephone are there, though above it all in a balcony of their own

did i mention bradley king is a god among lighting designers?

because that will come back a lot

anyway hermes is sort of an uncle figure to orpheus; he was friends with orpheus’s mother, a muse. as soon as orpheus sees eurydice he wants to talk to her, and hermes advices him not to ‘come on too strong’—

and well that plan goes immediately out the window : ‘come home with me!’ [eurydice: ’what?’]

orpheus is just intensely awkward. skinny pale child doesn’t know how to interact with the world

they have kind of an argumentative relationship from the start—they don’t face each other very often; there’s a push and pull as he longs for her and she, kneejerk tough girl, tries not to go for this. but the rose from his palm enchants her, and she holds on to it. ‘you have to finish your song.’

GODDDD AMBER GRAY IS JUST LIIIIIIIFE. her persephone is a total lush and frequently staggers through act 1. she also has a fabulous white coat that gradients to green at the sleeves. when she dances you can’t tell if she’s about to pass out or float up to the ceiling.

when orpheus gives the toast he’s just so awkward it’s appalling

(and everyone toasts except eurydice)

hades wears sunglasses when he comes to the world above to bring persephone back to the world below. he descends from his balcony to get her, and brings her to the center of the stage—and then, oh, SHIT, there’s a fucking perfect round trap door right where they’re standing, and they descend below. (amber gray looking up to the slowly disappearing sky with the face of a martyr who’s used to the gig.)

winter’s hard. eurydice has to bust back out her old ass coat (instead of the winsome black slip thing and brown vest thing she was wearing), and the Fates, bitches as they be, try to fuckin rip it off her. (and succeed. the choreography looks like wind! also chairs and tables looked like they were floating earlier but i forgot to mention that.)

eurydice is trying to get ORPHEUS’S FUCKIN ATTENTION bout the fact they got no food and, uh, three bitchy old ladies dressed all in gray just took her coat, but he’s submerged in writing his song to bring back the weather. and while this is all going on, hades and persephone are having their age-old argument about how hell is too hot and too loud and IT AIN’T RIGHT, IT AIN’T NATURAL.

because, get this, after descending to hell they descended /back up/ into it, and u can tell cuz the lighting is fuckin genius. i’ll explain later except i won’t.

orpheus is just OUT OF IT and not hearing anything at all eurydice is tryin to fuckin say. (the tune keeps going wrong.) hades is sick of persephone not being with his electric shiny no-good shittiness and lays his eyes on eurydice as easy prey.

he puts on his sunglasses again and u know it’s bad news.

he talks her over and gives her her ‘ticket’—two silver coins that she momentarily holds up over her eyes as she looks at us, letting us know that this is some death imagery. she holds both hades’ coins and orpheus’s flower—and, making up her mind, calls out orpheus’s name one last time and descends into the underworld through that same miraculous trap.

and then, fuck me, the trap comes back up but just the red flower is on it. fuuuuuck meeeeeeee i may have wept.

orpheus finishes his damn song and hermes lets him know that hE FUCKED UP HIS WHOLE DAMN LIFE SHE GONE, BITCH, and orpheus sees the flower on the trap door and then he’s weeping, too.

and then we get to ‘wait for me’ and holy shit, y’all, i never been so fully into something in my life? it was so physically intoxicating i almost wanted to throw up. like, wonder as a liquid beverage. tHE LIGHTING? ? i fuckin felt awe on this earth today, i saw god and he’s lit by bradley king.

because! hades’ workers bring on these industrial metal lamps, and they hook them to the wires in the ceiling, and they SEND THEM SWINGING OUT INTO THE FUCKIGN AUDIENCE. they fuckin—they—they they they!—they fucking did! that! sent them swinging out in perfect rhythm and time, fully lit, swinging around orpheus and into the audience. and tHEN! THE FUCKIN SET! BEGINS TO GROW!!!

remember the first time u saw the nutcracker as a child and the growing christmas tree fuckin ripped ur world apart? it’s like that except times ten thousand

like it felt like. like the fuckin world was coming apart. the bar set is slowly ripping open and golden light is just searing into your eyeballs and the golden lamps are still swinging around orpheus and it literally felt like god had opened up a cold one and was just singing something horrible into being. it was wonder. i want to see it again.

like. stagecraft, babyyy

and u think act 1 will end on that because why would it nOT but no, we get ‘why we build the wall,’ which is a sort of chilling propoganda thing where everybody is facing forward and just telling back to hades whatever he’s yelling about, and persephone is there and i’m not sure why (like does she believe this? is she the unwilling consort? what’s the deal?)

and at the end eurydice comes in, and sort of picks up on the gestures everybody is doing—in that way everyone does when they come into a room and they want to vaguely pass as with it so they try to sync in to the general vibe. ‘uhh sure everyone’s waving their hands and talkin about walls so i guess i will too’, that kind of thing

hades shows her up to his office (the balcony door) to sign the papers. as soon as he’s gone, amber gray whips round to face the audience. ‘anybody want a drink?’

it’s intermission and i’m still trying to catch up on all the gasp-crying i started during ‘wait for me’

we also get an overpriced hadestown cup cuz get while the getting’s good, right?

back in act 2 and it’s our lady of the underground, ie amber gray in her exact outfit from above except instead of lurid green it’s savage black. (and instead of a bouncy curly brown wig it’s a black sparkly snood.) she dances and pivots and rivets her way through it, introducing the band, being winsome savage bite-your-face-off-and-offer-to-share-it-with-you amber gray. she’s got a neat little ring-shaped silver flask that hangs from her hand like a purse, and i want one.

eurydice emerges from the office dressed in the same overalls as the other workers—though she looks sexy af in them, ngl—and sings ‘flowers,’ and talks about how nobody down here looks at her, and how it’s like they don’t even see her. the underworld is not what she thought it would be. she wants to go home but can’t. she can’t remember orpheus’s name.

uNTIL HE SHOWS UP! Punk ass bitch made it, somehow, and stumbles onto the stage with guitar in hand. she knows his name immediately. but she can’t leave, because she signed her soul away.

u knew all this. it’s classic myth. did i mention patrick page as hades sounds like the combined harmonics of every rumbling truck on the george washington bridge every time he decides to sing?

orpheus has A Moment™ where it’s like, if this is what the world is, if people sign their names up for shit and i can’t save them, i guess i’ll just go home. but he talks himself out of it (apparently his magic vocal cords work on him, too), and actually talks himself (and the stone workers of the underworld!) into activism.

amber gray and patrick page share a duet i’ve never heard before, and it’s fine, and i think it still needs fine tuning cuz im not sure exactly how persephone feels about hades in this bit. it’s fine. what matters is that at the end of it, hades is FUCKED because rebellion is brewing.

he gets orpheus to sing his song. and holy shit, is it a doozy. holy shit, but were we all crying. hooooolyyy shiiiiiit.

holy shit.

when hades sings the refrain at the end, amber gray looks like she’s experiencing the most visceral, exquisite, heartfelt, heartbroken pain of her life. she literally bends as if she’s felt this pain in her stomach—this pain, this anguish over the song she hasn’t heard for so long from this one man she loved so well.

and when a rose blossoms from hades’s palm, persephone is both crying and laughing. it’s like the old times have bloomed again.

and then they dance.

also, should have mentioned earlier, it’s implied it’s not an og song orpheus is singing; he’s actually stumbled on an ancient one, perhaps one hades used to sing, and THAT’S why it’s so devastating—not just his talent and voice, but the memory of it, the memories it brings back. it’s an ancient song, almost a spell, that can heal the seasons.

hades and persephone hold each other close, nuzzling almost, and eurydice faces orpheus, and for a second u think it’s going to be ok because eurydice is so joyful and persephone and hades have healed. o & e think they’re gonna leave. they think everybody can leave.

but nope, hades can’t have that. damned if he does, damned if he don’t—so he sets the test for orpheus, but u really get the sense that he’s not doing it from a sense of cruelty any more. it almost pains him to do this shit. but the rivet of steel in his character won’t let himself become king of nothing.

hermes presents the challenge: ‘ive got good news, and bad.’ orpheus keeps asking hermes if it’s a trick; hermes keeps saying it’s a test, a trial. (it’s really a TRAGEDY.)

persephone is wooed by the fact that hades even let them try.

ugh, doubt comes in is. devastating. every single person in the audience audibly gasped—u FELT the air leave the room—when he turned around. we all genuinely believed it would end differently this time. we thought it would. i knew it was coming and i still was DEVASTATED.

eurydice is, too. she started as the doubter, and she had so much BELIEF they were gonna get out of this. ‘it’s you—it’s me—’ she says. she’s already sinking through the trap. fuckin hell, they were on the last few steps. i’m still fuckin emotional about it

orpheus just crashes to the edge of the trap, staring down into the abyss. hermes is singing, softly, about how it’s an old song—it’s an old tale—it’s a tragedy. and then he roars—in a way that cheers me up—WE’RE GONNA SING IT AGAIN.

because that’s the power of it! it happened, it was horrible, but we’re going to SING about it—and maybe change the ending this time—the way orpheus tried to, when he sang his way to hades and sang his way to the stones. it’s the singing of the event that matters, that might matter.

and eurydice is back at the bar, wanting matches—orpheus is back at the bar, seeing her for the first time across the room—and the story goes on, like the seasons .fuckin incredible. everybody in the auditiorium now is tear-stained.

APPLAUSE APPLAUSE APPLAUSE

lasted for like.....seven minutes?? it took ages and the actors were just soaking it up, looking exhausted, because DAMN it is exhausting to chart anguish and joy and victory and determination and love in two hours and 25 minutes

and then hermes shushes the house—because of course he does—and amber gray leads the final toast. it’s acoustic—it sounded to me like she wasn’t even using her microphone? it wasn’t brash at all, just raw—and a simple, honest, kind of homespun way to end the show. and it finally ended, and we cheered one last time, and then we went home sobbing and shaking and wanting to do the whole damn thing again

it was great and the stagecraft was some of the best i’ve ever seen and i’ve literally felt maybe only 3 productions like this, where this emotional shit is actually sitting in your lungs, and u should go, the end

#hadestown #rachel chavkin #anais mitchell #amber gray #patrick page #reeve carney #broadway #oh also there was a revolve that was pretty neat and used well

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alvaar-aldaviir · 4 years

Text

Wondrous Tails: Conflict

Time Frame: Post-Stormblood(?) Could be anywhere after that really. No Spoilers

Warnings: For implied/referenced underage sexual abuse and thoughts of violence.

Notes: Oh boy, first time having to puzzle out trigger warnings.

Bear with me, this ones a tad darker than the rest, as it touches a little into Alvaar's backstory and childhood. Alvaar did... not have an easy early childhood. It's not quite Yotsuyu levels of bad being sold into a brothel and all, but it's still pretty bad and in the same vein given he was an orphan doing whatever he could to survive. It is however, implied and not explicitly detailed. Not any worse than daytime TV these days at least.

Also of note, Alvaar does have some degree of anger management issues. They are mostly under control of ARR, but it is something he lives with. One day I'm going to post how Halatali and Ilberd went down...

“Hey... don’t I know you?”

The question comes with a hand gripped around his wrist firmly and if Alvaar Aldaviir, famed Bard and renowned Warrior of Light, had not spent the last several years clashing with Gods it might have pulled him off balance. Instead he abruptly shifted his footing to face the man and a swift turn of his wrist had him free, slipping into a ready stance that was now second nature.

The old Highlander blinked slowly, frowning a bit and studying Alvaar’s face with a drunken intensity as the Elezen stared down at him silently. A tense few moments passed before Alvaar eased a bit when no ensuing brawl began, loosening his fingers from the snaps of his hunting knife.

“I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else,” he murmured, turning to continue through the street after the twins, who had noticed his absence and were trailing back for him.

“Nah! I know you. I know I do...” the man insisted.

“I get that a lot,” Alvaar returned noncommittally.

“Tch! Just cause you may be some Twelves-damned hero don’t change what you were, boy,” the man spat.

It made the Bard hesitate for just a moment; expression still stoic even as a flicker of dread pierced through his stomach as he stopped.

“Alvaar? What kept you?” Alisaie called, pacing back to him and glancing warily at the stranger still leering at him.

“I remember that mouth Alvaar... you still have those pretty lips made for dick sucking. They might laud you as a hero, but that ain’t the truth. Truth is you’re still just a beggar whore ain’t you?”

“Oh? What respectable gentleman is this?” Alphinaud asked, pacing up beside the Bard, tone neutral but gaze fixed and calculating.

“A whoreson that’s going to lose his tongue if he keeps talking,” Alisaie snarled from his other side, fingers curling around the hilt of her rapier.

He was about to speak, or he wanted to at least. Trying to find words that could form on his tongue through the faint buzz of static in his ears and the flashes of old memories like a knife in his stomach. The cold and the gnawing hunger and the promise of coin for just a little favor, right? What was the harm?

There are the first warning flickers of adrenaline twitching in his fingers and the steady whine of irritation starting to drip over his brain. Signs he’s felt countless times before when he was younger and more volatile. When violent outbursts and rage induced blackouts were more commonplace.

No, he told himself with a slow sigh. Not today. Some old drunk wasn’t worth self-destructing and causing them all more trouble instead. No matter how nice the thought was of grabbing that old wooden board or loose chunk of cobble off the ground and smashing it into the side of his head. Over and over until red cloaked his face and he wouldn’t ever breathe a word of those dark and bitter days again…

No.

If he could make it through the damnable Bloody Banquet without harming anyone, some sorry old leche wasn’t going to get the better of him. He wasn’t.

“Scuse ye lady. We was havin’ a conversation, wasn’t we? But I suppose ya always were someone’s pretty lil bitch weren’t you boy?” he taunted, raising his voice as he ignored the Red Mage. “Whose lap are ya warming now eh? Always did look real pretty choking on highlander cock but must be nobles is easier to take.”

“Let one more treacherous lie slip out of your foul mouth and I’ll gladly alleviate the condition!” Alisaie snapped, rapier and focus flashing into her hands as she dropped into a ready position, sword point dancing in front of the man’s face and making him stumble backwards slightly once it finally registered.

“Alisaie.”

The woman paused, glancing over at Alvaar at the stern tone.

“We have important business to attend. Besides, if I wanted to stand around and listen to people be wrong, I’d sit in with the Syndicate. Let’s go,” he stated firmly before walking away.

“You ain’t any better than the rest of us Alvaar! You’re still nothing but a damned whore!” the man yelled after him.

“Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” Alisaie seethed a few minutes later, fingers drumming on the hilt of her sword. “Yelling lies in the middle of Ul’dah like that? You should have let me silence him the old-fashioned way I’d be doing the city a service, or in the least we could have called the guards.”

“Sister, using violence to settle a dispute only lends credence to slander. It is best to not add fuel to the flame and let it snuff itself out,” Alphinaud chided, glancing at Alvaar as the man continued to pace in silence.

Tsking under her breath she shot her twin a heated look. “So instead we should just stand around and let someone call our friend a whore? Speak such detestable things? There may be no truth to it but it’s hardly fair to expect Alvaar to grin and bear such insults,” she returned.

“And what if it was true?” Alvaar asked softly, plodding to a stop as they reached the end of the Sapphire Exchange, the hum of the crowd behind them.

“But it isn’t,” she returned simply, arms crossing over her chest as she stopped as well.

Alphinaud paused, again studying Alvaar for a moment before a spark of understanding lit in his eyes, shooting a look at Alisaie that the Red Mage missed in her upset.

“But if it was?” Alvaar insisted.

“Then why would it matter?” she tossed back, gesturing flippantly. “What a person was doesn’t change what they could be else what would be the point of trying to save Eorzea at all? If that were the case, there would be no hope for the Alliance, and hardly a hope of a better future. But you weren’t ever such to begin with, so I don’t see why...” Finally turning to stare at the Bard her expression grew faintly puzzled as he continued to stand in silence, face shielded under the brim of his hat as he’d ducked his chin in thought.

“... Alvaar?” Alisaie asked, voice softer and edged in concern.

“Mmm, a fair point. What would it matter...?” he mused aloud before lifting his head and fixing his gaze ahead into the city. “But there’s that meeting to attend. We shouldn’t tarry any further.”

He made it all of two steps before he felt hands close over his, again automatically shifting his stance though he didn’t wrest himself free.

“It doesn’t matter,” Alisaie insisted earnestly, meeting his shaded eyes as her hands squeezed over his.

The Bard remained silent, only giving a faint start and tilting his head as Alphinaud patted at his arm on his other side, offering a reassuring smile.

“Alvaar’s right. We shouldn’t tarry on needless things. Shall we?”

Beginning to let go, Alisaie paused a moment as Alvaar squeezed back gently before pulling away. Sighing with relief under her breath she squared her shoulders as they started off together. “I suppose Alvaar and I were due for a nap while you talk in circles for an hour...” she stated offhandedly.

“Alisaie...” Alphinaud sighed in no small measure of exasperation.

“I wouldn’t sleep through it,” Alvaar piped in, glancing down at the Scholar’s relieved look with a faint smile. “Just don’t check my notes. I’m definitely making notes and not writing a song.”

“Alvaar...”

#no fluff only near misses of past trauma #wol #warrior of light #oc #wondrous tails of ffxiv #ffxiv #ff14 #platonic #alisaie #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud #alphinaud leveilleur #alvaar aldaviir #writing #mywriting

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lady-olive-oil · 5 years

Text

Work Out: Chapter 1

The moment you’ve all been waiting for; chapter 1 of Work Out. It took a lot out of me to finally get this out and im glad it’s here. The song in this is My Love For You by Sevyn Streeter, and I’m having it to where Geneva sings a few songs and have written some. Hence why it’s so long and the lyrics are in it, i recommend you listen to it while Geneva sings. So without further ado, here we go! If ya wanna be apart of my Lil Nasties Tag Squad, let me know!

Warning(s): nothing but language and a few heated moments

Word Count: 3,009 [i snapped]

Lil Nasties: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @themyscxiras || @sparklemichele || @designerwriterchic || @honeychicana || @chaneajoyyy || @jojolu || @dc41896 || @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove || @jozigrrl

-3 Weeks Later-

“What in the pink Himalayan salt, is this shit?!”

The year barely started and I was already in deep with issues. With trying to open up my own gym; moving and trying to spend time with my friends, my soon to be ex husband just had to add more things to his side of the divorce settlement.

“Genevieve Leona. Language.” Her father had the chance to look over the new settlement that she has given, checking to see if there were any plausible loopholes.

Placing a gentle kiss on her father's graying cheek, she handed him a glass of water, before sitting across from him at the island.

“Sorry dad. But you of all people should know how difficult this is. You've handled cases harder than this.”

“Sweet pea, I get it. I do, but I need for you to calm down please?”

His hardworking hands were placed on top of my delicate one's, trying to ease my pain. Who knew that going through a divorce was so time consuming and dreadful.

“He just works my nerves. I’m glad I went with the prenup before hand, because he would've gotten half of my building space. Which I’m not having that.”

Opening my own space is a dream of mine, something I've always wanted since I was 12. Whether is was going to become a gym; a skating rink or a combination of both, I was going to have it. Jake knows about it too, but he doesn’t like seeing me succeed more than him.

“We’ll get this all straightened out soon enough. In the meantime, don’t work yourself up over this clown. Like ya mama says ‘he ain’t worth hella beans.’ She’s wise you know. Imma head on home, and we’ll talk more later.” A hearty chuckle escaped him, as he kissed my head before heading to his car, to make it home before the sunset.

“I know, I know. She was right about this one, maybe. Call me when you get home, pops. Ok?” Giving him one more goodbye kiss, I waved at him before making it back inside.

“Operation: Get Jake out of my Life, is a go. All I need is some wine and dancing. I know just who to call.”

Picking up the phone to dial the FaceTime group chat, I was greeted by the other two angels in my life.

“What’s up golden girls. Y’all busy this weekend?”

“Nah not really no. We could go out tonight, I just finished up the schedule for the upcoming comic con in July. Gotta have costumes on deck to win. Ryan and I are good to go, his work thing ain’t till Thursday right?

Destiny never stopped working, even after college she made sure her coin was on point.

“I’m free this weekend too. Yeah him and John have this medical convention Thursday, which I clocked it to be 15 min away, so we all good to tag along as a group. Whatcha have in mind?”

Cynthia, our resident spy, could never be too careful when it came to men she dated. But Johnny never gave her a reason to doubt him.

“Skate night at Roller Jam. I need to get loose for a few hours to some Cool & The Gang. Besides it’ll give y’all a chance to see ya girl get down on some wheels.”

Roller skating has been in my blood since I was in the womb. My parents met at a roller skating rink and they’ve been groovin ever since. I happen to be the captain of my own roller skating team called Roller Queens. Best team to ever roll into Staten Island.

“I can get down with that, be like old times.” Destiny agreed.

“Great times. Oh what about Mr. Tall, blonde and gorgeous? Have you talked to him lately?” Cynthia changed the subject.

“Ha ha. No I haven’t. But he has been blowing up my Instagram like crazy. I have replied a bit though, nothing too drastic. Some chicks have been messaging me like ‘get away from him’; ‘he doesn’t want a hoe like you’ or ‘you’re not his type. Step off’ These little girls man, I’m telling you.”

It’s not like I don’t want Florian, I mean who doesn’t? Have you seen him lately? All jokes aside, I’m not looking for anything serious right now no way. I’m too busy trying to get my divorce finalized.

“We know you clapped them back. No time for the girls, this is grown woman ish.”

“What Dede said.” Cynthia chuckled a bit, candying is all to join in and I saw her man in the background. So I gave him a wave before looking at the time.

“Speaking of time, it’s getting late. I have to go get Leilani from the recording studio today since Lucas has their car and his game ran late. Plus Donny is on a date so, Older sister to the rescue.”

“We’ll see you at the rink Friday, ok?” Destiny said as she moved around the kitchen only for Ryan to say hi to me as well.

“Yeah. At like 5 ish, it’s late skate so it’s better. See y’all later. Mwha!” Sending then both my love and kisses, we hung up and went on about our business.

As I got ready to head downtown, I got a text from Michael saying he’s still in town for the next few weeks. That could only mean one thing: it was for business. Which also meant that Florian would be with him too. Maybe my week we starting to look up. I texted him what studio I’d be at, kill two birds with one stone.

Walking into the studio, I heard the smooth R&B sounds of Leilani’s voice through the speakers. This is where she’s always in her element, she turns everything out and puts her all into her vocals and practices. I couldn’t be more prouder of my siblings for going for their dreams.

“Good job little bird. Come out real quick would ya?” I smiled happily as she walked out the booth, proceeding to give me a hug in return.

“You really think I’m good? I know I need more practice, but I know I’m getting better day by day. How’s life going for you? Jake still being a little shit?” Leilani arched a brow, sitting in the chair across from me.

“As always. He added more “demands” to our divorce settlement, and I’m pretty sure I can’t meet them at all. So he’s stuck with his shit, and I keep mine.” I shrugged a tad, spinning in my chair and Leilani gave me a look.

“Well I hope he gets what he’s asking for cause all this is too much on me, and I ain’t even the one divorcing him. Let’s get your mind off of it, why don’t you go sing in the booth one time?” She suggested and the look turned into a smile.

“Me? In the booth? I haven’t done that in years Lei.” 6 years to be exact, but who's counting.

“That’s just it. Give it a shot and try it. That one song you were working on for the talent show, back home. What was it called?” She really wanted me to sing for her once. Anything for my sister I guess.

“My Love For You. It’s called My Love For You.”

“See?! Please sis? I want to hear you sang one time. I got Marcus here and we can cut it real fast. Nothing like a side hobby next to skating right? Please!” Leilani held my hands and gave me a puppy dog pout.

“Fine! Fine I’ll do it.” I broke down and earned a squeal from her, as I went into the booth. Putting on the headphones I saw Michael and Florian walk in just in time.

“Oh snap, cuzzo going in the booth.” Michael received a hug from Leilani, before he introduced her Florian who was a smitten kitten over seen Geneva again.

“Yeah yeah. Mike, don’t distract me please I’m in my zone. And you brought Florian too. Now I gotta show out.” I shook my shoulders a bit, receiving some laughs from the group before getting the signal from Marcus.

“Yes I’m here too. Michael didn’t tell me you could sing. So I am interested even more now.” The smirk that etched his perfect face wasn’t helping the fact that he looked good in his red track suit. Jesus be a fence.

Did it get hot in here? The heat must be on cause my face was feeling warm, when he smirked at me. I can not lose myself over this man.

“I’m ok. Been a while but maybe it’ll all come back to me soon.”

With a slight nod, I opened my phone to the lyrics I had saved in my notes, and just went with the rhythm. I had to think of something that made me happy in order to do the song. At the time it was Jake but, now I just had myself.

The track started off and Leilani was already vibing to the beat. Michael was too, with Florian soon falling in line. Controlling my breathing, getting the hang of it all over again. Hearing the background vocals, I got into the groove.

I, I'm saving all the

I'm saving all my love for you (to you, I)

I'm saving all the love (whoo, oh)

I'm saving all my love for you

Looking straight at Florian, I decided pour all my emotion into the song to practically let him know what i was feeling without being direct.

Ridin' round town in your black Impala

With my baby, yeah, that's my partner

Look the other way when they tryna holler

So unbothered, we're so unbothered

See I got niggas slidin' in my DMs

Stevie Wonderin' if I'ma ever see 'em

But I don't pay that shit no mind

No, I don't give that shit no time, no time

I just curve 'em from the a.m. to the p.m

Oh, baby, you're the reason

That none of these niggas can touch me

Ain't none of these niggas get lucky

No, no, no, no, no

Florian’s POV

“Man, I think she’s singing to you.” Michael lean over towards me, mumbling about something as a smirk appeared on my face.

“Maybe so. Remember the bet I told you about, that we set at the New Years party? I still have to prove myself to her a lot if I want to make this work.” I mentioned while leaning against the wall. Entranced by her voice.

“Yeah yall both told me about it actually. You think you can do it? I mean she’s pretty persistent with whom she dates. Last guy only lasted 3 weeks, on top of her on going divorce cause Jake plays too much.” Michael had informed me about her future ex husband and how much of a moocher he is. The faster he leaves, the better chance I have.

“Better me than him.” I knew i had to make a good impression on her at least, because she hasn’t been treated right in so long from what I’ve been told by her friends. Giving her my undivided attention, I know she felt the sudden shift in change.

Geneva’s POV

Whatever the boys were talking about must’ve been important, by the way there were engaged in the topic. Once Florian looked at me again I got back into the zone, hitting those notes.

Only you, yeah, it's only you that get my attention

Only you, swear it's only you, ain't no competition, no

'Cause baby, you give me everything that I've been missin'

That's why I'm saving all my love for you

yeah yeah, saving all my love

Saving all my love for you

(I'm saving all my love)

Saving, saving all my love, I'm saving all my love for you

It ain't with nobody else, you got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do, baby

And I'ma keep saving all my love for you

Oh oh oh

Saving all my love for you, saving all my love for you

(I, I'm saving all the love I'm saving all my love for you) Yeah

I felt the rhythm all over my body while moving to the beat, imagining what it would be like to be with someone who might actually love me for me.

Yeah, if I had a hundred, I would break you off a fifty

Yeah, I know you'd do the same, I know you'd split it with me

Yeah, on ya team, Micheal Jordan, Scottie Pippin

Long as we got each other, I ain't trippin'

You the one, you the realest, you the realest (I, I)

Only you, yeah, it's only you (only you) that get my attention

Only you, swear it's only you, ain't no competition, no

'Cause baby, you give me everything that I've been missin' (oh)

That's why I'm saving all my love for you

“Oh shit, sis is snappin on the vocals.” I could hear Leilani through the cracked door with one headphone on my right ear. It felt good seeing her vibe to me singing, it was something we do growing up. To get that opportunity again was amazing. Florian kept smirking at me, with a sudden lovey look in his green-gold eyes. He was leaning by Marcus, on the soundboard just in tranced by everything. I gave it my all and even hit a high note in there.

Saving, saving saving all my love

Saving all my love for you

I been saving (saving it for you)

(I'm saving all my love)

Saving all my love, saving all my love for you

You got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do, baby

And I'ma keep saving all my love (all my) for you, oh (oh yeah)

Saving all my love (my love) for you, saving all my love for you

All (you) my (you) love (you) for you

(You) all (you) of my love saving all my love

You got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do baby, yeah yeah

You got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do baby, doin' what you do baby, yeah

You got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do baby, doin' what you do baby, yeah yeah

You got it all to yourself

Just keep doin' what you do, baby, doin' what you do, baby, hey

Oh, what you do to me, baby

I, I'm saving all the

I'm saving all my love for you (for you, I)

I, I'm saving all the

I'm saving all my love for you

Sending a wink in Florian’s direction, the game had started for us both. I had remembered that skate night was this weekend, the perfect opportunity to get this bet started. Coming out the booth feeling giddy about myself, I received a hug from my sister gaining my confidence over tenfold.

“You my dear, have a gift.” Florian took my hand and placed a kiss on top of it, trying to sway my way.

“Thanks. It’s one of my hidden talents, that I let you see without an ulterior motive.” with an arch in my brow, I gained a few laughs in the room. Looking him up and down, he eyed me too.

“You plan on giving me a show with your other talents, love?” He arched his brow as well, biting his bottom lip. Michael and Leilani were eating up the commentary.

Leilani took a picture of me for a split second, along with getting one of Florian with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Now yall both can either kiss already or do the first challenge. Am I right?” Mike reminded us both, setting the whole mood in motion.

“He’s right. Listen, this friday there’s a skate night at my old stomping grounds; Roller Jam in Staten Island. If you can skate to the beat, with some rhythm, I’ll go on a date with you.” crossing my arms across my chest, I felt confident in myself and always up for a challenge.

“Roller skating? You may have to help me out then. I’m tall enough but willing to learn.” Florian nodded in agreement and smiled genuinely at me. He handed me his phone to plug his number in, to set the game in motion and vice versa.

Sending the directions to the skating rink to him, I managed to take a picture of myself for the contact, and he did one for his in my phone. Before I left with my sister I set the tone of the challenge, standing on my tippy toes in my vermillion Nike Air Maxs, and placed a sweet kiss to his cheek. Looking into the reflective mirror on the wall I saw his cheeks turn red. His scent caught my senses, and it was intoxicating. He smelled like a warm fire and cocoa, something I wouldn't mind snuggling up against. Pulling away, I saw him look into my eyes for a split second, drawing me in but I had to be strong.

“Let the games begin, Munteanu.” With a gentle whisper against his ear, I grabbed my things and left him there speechless. Watching him watch me walk away with a sway in my hips.

“Let the games begin indeed, Shaw.” he was biting his plump bottom and giving me a once over one last time.

“You got it bad for my cousin bro. Let’s just hope for your sake, Jake doesn't come around and try to win her back.” I heard my cousin say to Florian as they left as well.

“I’d like to seem him try. I never lose.” the confidence in his voice stirred something in me, awakened the desire in me to finally be happy.

If Jake thinks he can mess up my fun, well he’s got another thing coming.

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