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separatist-apologist · 10 months

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Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

Azriel was gone for three days. Three stupid days in which Gwyn found she missed him. Not at first—not that first day. He’d left a shadow behind, presumably to monitor her. She’d woken to find it slithering around her desk, likely looking for something interesting. Embarrassment flooded through her—had this been the same shadow that he’d used to pleasure her in the library? What kind of awareness did they have, anyway?

Maybe some things were better left unknown.

The only thing Gwyn truly had to worry about was Kai, who realized Azriel wasn’t around by mid-afternoon and began trailing her earnestly and Gwyn, who’d never been the subject of someone’s romantic desires before, found herself both uneasy and flattered by the prince's attention.

Sitting beside her in his pathetic library, Kai paid little attention to what she was reading. Instead, long, moon pale fingers found the bracelet on her wrist. She didn’t know what possessed her to put it on that morning. Perhaps she was missing Nesta and Emerie more than she realized.

“This is pretty,” he murmured, fingers finding the little rose pendant she’d clasped among the other gems. It had been a solstice gift, stuck on an unremarkable silver chain. Gwyn knew she’d never wear it, and so she’d discarded the chain in favor of the little red rose and fastened it to the bracelet, deciding it was a good omen. “Where did you get it?”

“A friend,” she replied, thinking of Clotho offering it to her with a delighted smile. It hadn’t been from Clotho—likely another group of well-meaning citizen from Velaris donating things to the priestesses locked away in the library. The fact that Clotho had thought of her at all was what mattered.

It had been the first gift Gwyn had gotten in a long time. Nesta and Emerie, along with Cassian, had also sent up gifts later that day—along with a very lovely blanket from the High Lady, thanking her for being Nesta’s friend and begging Gwyn not to tell her sister she’d said so—had really made that day special.

Gently, she pulled the charm from Kai’s fingers. “It’s beautiful. Like you,” he added, blue eyes bright with hope.

Gwyn merely smiled, scooting her chair a fraction of an inch away from him. “Thank you, but I’m here only to do a job.”

“And then leave?” he questioned, like her words amused him. “So they can continue to working you to the bone?”

Gwyn turned to look at him. He truly was handsome, in a very specific, limited sort of way. More than anything, Gwyn hated that she was comparing him to Azriel. That was unfair—no one was as beautiful as Azriel, and they never would be. Kai couldn’t help that and yet Gwyn was still doing it.

“I like working.”

“You wouldn’t have to here,” Kai said, as if that was meant to entice her. Gwyn only sighed, offering him what she hoped was a placid, pleasant smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Those were the wrong words, because Kai took them as a challenge. No one had ever tried courting Gwyn—the notion was, frankly, absurd. And yet there Kai was. Sending gifts and flowers, escorting her to dinner, and during one ill fated turn through the garden, draping his jacket over her shoulders.

Like she was a defenseless ornament for him to parade around. Seething, Gwyn marched back into her shared room with Azriel, hoping he was having far more fun than she was. And then, because she was pissed off and decided to make it his problem, took Kai’s jacket, with it’s too big sleeves and strange scent of citrus and clove, and slept in Azriel’s bed.

Just because she could.

By the time Azriel returned, Gwyn was close to begging Rhysand to bring her home, if only for a little peace. Maybe the shadowsinger could sense her frustration, because he strolled in casually right before dawn. She’d gotten very little sleep, curled up in the chair Azriel so often found solace in when his own nightmares plagued him.

“Miss me?”

Gwyn rolled her eyes. “You’re not dead,” she commented, noting a purple bruise gracing his neck just beneath the color of the black tunic he wore.

“Don’t act so disappointed. If I die, my cock goes with me.”

“And I’m sure tens of females will mourn,” Gwyn shot back as Azriel all but swaggered into his bedroom. She’d forgotten her little stunt with the jacket, rising to her feet intending to change into something clean and plod back to the library where she’d do fuck all for most of the day. The real work happened at night anyway. At this point, Gwyn’s sole purpose was to pretend she was building a bridge between the continent and Prythian when truthfully she was spying. Stealing their knowledge right from under them.

And Gwyn very much doubted Kai would want her as a princess when he learned she was actively committing treason and stomping all over his hospitality.

Gwyn had made it to her door when Azriel caught her. One hand gripped her waist, while the other found her wrists and pinned them up over her head. “What happened here while I was gone, Gwyneth?” he whispered.

Daring to look him right in the eye, she replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t smell arousal on that bed. Just your scent wrapped around another male. What happened?”

“Jealous?”

But that wasn’t quite it. She could see there was fear etched in lines of his beautiful face, half hidden under his anger.

“Nothing happened,” she said, wrenching her wrists from his hand so she could open the door and tumble backwards. Azriel came with her, falling to the floor in a graceless heap. Somehow,

Azriel managed not to crush her under his powerful body, hitting the ground with his elbows instead.

“Then why can I smell him in my bed?” Azriel asked breathlessly, wincing from what she assumed was pain.

“Because I slept in his jacke—”

A snarl ripped from Azriel, sending his shadows scattering for safety.

“Don’t you growl at me!” she snapped, poking him in the chest. Azriel’s wings flared around them before settling, blotting out the first rays of early morning light. Gwyn hated how much she liked when he did that—nothing and no one could touch her here. Looking up at him, Gwyn wished she could paint the gold flecked in his eyes.

Wished she could trace the curve of his mouth, the line of his jaw.

“Did you miss me?” she asked him, heart thudding. Say no, end this right now, tell me I’m crazy—

“Yes,” he replied, lowering his head to run his nose along the length of her neck.

Oh, she was in trouble and she knew it. “We’re even, Az.”

“Then let’s fix that,” he replied, sliding a hand down the side of her body. “Let me show you what I’ve been thinking about since I’ve left.”

She was going to let him. Right there on the floor, her bed only a few feet away—an impossible distance when he adjusted, settling his powerful thigh between her legs. “What were you thinking about?” she breathed.

Azriel’s tongue replaced his mouth, tracing the line of her collarbone through the rumpled dress she’d slept in.

“I want to know what you taste like,” he whispered darkly, his words eliciting a shiver. “I want to see you come again, Gwyn.”

“I—”

A pounding on the door saved her from making a fool of herself. Azriel snarled softly, but shoved up off the ground with the fluid grace he’d been robbed of when they’d fallen to the floor. She watched, rising to her own feet quickly as he stalked to the door, catching how he adjusted himself quickly in his trousers before he flung the door open.

Gwyn knew who’d be on the other side.

“Yes?” Azriel asked, his voice devoid of all emotion.

“Oh. You’ve returned. I suppose I thought you wouldn’t,” Kai said as Azriel plucked the bouquet of purple irises from his hand.

“For me?” Azriel asked, arching one of his impeccable brows. A better person would have put Kai out of his misery. Kai couldn’t see around Azriel’s massive body, which gave Azriel license to say, “Gwyn is still in bed. I’ll let her know you came by.”

And then he slammed the door in the prince’s face, turning to look at Gwyn with a deadpan expression.

“For you,” he told her, tossing them to the little breakfast table littered with her books and notes. “I thought nothing happened?”

“You sound jealous.”

Walking to his room, apparently content to abandon whatever had been about to happen on the floor, Azriel muttered, “When I’m jealous, you’ll know it.” And then slammed the door in her face.

Gwyn only smiled.

AZRIEL:

Azriel was going insane. Kai was constantly in his fucking way, interrupting every single time Azriel tried to get close to Gwyn. After three stupid days living in the ceiling of the Rask palace, all he’d thought about was her cunt on his face. He’d been so close that morning, and never again for the rest of the week.

Kai wanted to separate them. Azriel could guess why. The prince was too involved in the life of one foreign visitor, concerned now about her chastity, like Azriel was some mongrel brute that couldn’t keep his hands to himself or understood the word no.

Isolate Gwyn, make her vulnerable, and then take what he wanted. That was Kai’s little plan and Azriel didn’t need daemati powers or his shadows to tell him as much. Azriel had been alive for a long time and this wasn’t his first time around another territorial male.

Azriel was merely a threat to Kai, who wanted the same female Azriel had begun to guard, perhaps a little too jealously. Gwyn hadn’t complained, and he’d kept the snapping to a minimum. If it continued, Azriel thought it might be time to pull things entirely and take her back to Velaris.

Where he’d be barred from seeing her every morning, and would have no excuse to talk to her. That was the only thing that kept him from writing Rhys and demand his brother end this now. Azriel was selfish—but whatever was happening with Gwyn felt good. Something about her presence, even when she was bratty and snide, made Azriel feel seen. There’d been so much shame attached to Morrigan—shame he then transferred to Elain—that Azriel had always assumed that was just part of attraction for him.

He wasn’t good enough for either of those females.

But he felt good enough to be around Gwyn. Azriel wasn’t ready to go back to the way things were, even as he’d begun to suspect he wasn’t going to be able to easily exorcize her from his mind.

He’d told himself he just needed to get her under him to burn her out of his system, and it was the game of cat and mouse between them that was keeping him so wound up. And then he’d take her out training and she’d press her dagger to his throat, and Azriel thought he’d never be over it. He’d want more and more, until he had it all.

All he needed was to kiss her. The fact that he hadn’t wasn’t lost on him—they’d skipped right over it in favor of touching, and while he wasn’t complaining, he did want to know what every inch of her tasted like. He wanted to hear those breathless little sighs, wanted to see the well controlled Gwyn unspool just like he was.

And then, when she’d snapped, he wanted to be at her mercy.

Azriel knew she’d make him suffer for it.

Good thing he liked a little suffering, right?

Right then, the only suffering was Kai’s obnoxious voice six feet ahead of him. He was explaining plants to Gwyn, pointing out each little flower while Gwyn, eyes glazed, nodded absently. This was what she’d asked for, Azriel reminded himself. She wanted more time to translate her books, which meant by day, she was left to Kai’s attentions.

Azriel very much doubted the prince wanted to make her his wife. Despite the aggressive courting happening, of which Azriel had become an unwitting chaperone, Azriel guessed he merely wanted something new. Someone new. He’d waste a few weeks with her and then grow bored, picking a new lady at court he could toy with.

Azriel would never admit it, of course, but how often had he watched Rhys do the same thing? Before he became High Lord, Rhys had a cycle—every month, a new female. Azriel and Cassian used to take bets on who might last longer.

They’d never once dared to bet on Feyre.

Azriel wanted to barge in on the conversation and save Gwyn. If she’d been Elain, he might have—though, Elain would have enjoyed this stroll around the garden. Azriel kept catching little glimpses of Gwyn’s face, carefully arranged to seem interested. She had her tells. The flicking of her fingers at her sides, stretched far apart like she wanted to strangle him before she curled them into fists, attempting to get herself together.

Shaking strands of that cinnamon brown hair from her eyes.

“Oh? You don’t say.” Gwyn must have repeated herself twelve times. Azriel smothered a smile when he heard her say it again. Azriel had never been much for the outdoors. Maybe Gwyn was the same. There were things he had no business knowing, but wanted to all the same. But when he imagined her, it was always in the same places he imagined himself.

There was something strangely comforting about that.

“...I can have a dress sent to you, if you want to go—”

“Oh, I can’t dance—”

“I’ll teach you, then. You should see Montessere like this. You’d like it,” Kai was saying, his voice just a shade huskier than usual. Azriel glowered, unseen by the prince and the priestess.

Azriel returned to tuning them out, if only to spare himself and Gwyn a messy scene. He’d promised…but sometimes his temper got the best of him.

Gwyn wasn’t likely to thank him if he beat Kai into the dirt. Rhys, too, who’d spent days furious with him for doing the same to Eris. It had been worth it, and Azriel had never once apologized, even if his temper had resulted in Eris being a permanent fixture in the Night Court.

The thought of seeing Kai around Velaris was enough to convince Azriel to think about anything but Gwyn and Kai. That was a far harder task than he’d originally thought, and by the time he trudged back to their shared room—alone—Azriel was in a foul mood.

Gwyn returned later that evening with a garment bag. Azriel had fallen asleep in his chair, starting awake when she slammed the door loud enough to shake the overhead lights. Turning his head, Azriel dared to ask, “Bad night?”

“You left me out there,” she hissed, throwing the bag into a heap on the sofa.

“Did you want to be rescued?” he replied, well aware his tone suggested he wouldn’t have even if he’d known she wanted him to. That was a lie—Azriel would have cut right in had he thought she’d appreciate it.

“He took me around that fucking garden four times. I don’t care about plants!” she exclaimed. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

Azriel didn’t. He kept silent, waiting for Gwyn to explain it to him.

“This is a game,” she said, her exasperation plain. “He’s never met a female that didn’t want to be his wife and have his babies, and he’s trying to break me.”

“Good fucking luck,” Azriel mumbled. He couldn’t get Gwyn to smile at him, let alone be someone's sweet little house pet. She was going to make some male very, very miserable one day. Why did that amuse him? Azriel stood, drawing his wings tight against his body.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Bed,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

Muttering something that sounded distinctly like useless males, Gwyn turned on her heel and left him, slamming yet another door. So much for inviting her to bed with him, then. And so much for eating her cunt on the floor like he’d been trying to do earlier.

Melancholy, Azriel bathed and put himself to bed without touching himself. He had no interest in himself today. That happened a fair amount—he’d go through periods where everything felt gray, including himself. Sleep was easier, at least, and tumbled into the dark. There were no dreams, no nightmares to chase him awake.

But there was screaming. Loud, terrified screaming of a female he recognized. For a moment, he thought it might be his mother—maybe Feyre, or Mor, or— Gwyn.

Azriel started, kicking the blankets off his body. Taking truth teller with him, Azriel nearly kicked down his bedroom door to get to hers. He was certain he was about to find someone that shouldn’t be there, was prepared to end the night in a brutal murder that would chase them both back to Velaris.

He found her tangled up in her bed sheets while his shadows swirled in the dark, humming angrily like serpents prepared to strike.

“Gwyn,” he said, his dagger clattering to the bedside table. “Gwyn, wake up.”

She shot upright, body coated in a slick sheen of sweat, straight into his bare chest. Azriel could hear her heart thrumming with fear just as he could smell the thick salt of it. It made the hair on his neck stand on end, every nerve alive and primed for danger.

He expected her to shove him back, to demand he leave her. Azriel didn’t know if he could, and to punctuate that, let his wings wrap around them until the world was blotted out. Holding her, Azriel pressed his cheek into her hair. “You’re safe,” he murmured softly. “You’re with me.”

“Don’t go,” she replied, her voice thick from sleep and unshed tears. “Stay.”

His bed was big enough for them both, but hers was not. Was it better or worse for her to wake up in a strange place? Azriel decided to chance it, scooping her up and walking out of that sick smelling room. She didn’t protest for maybe the first time in her life, and by the time he’d laid her back in his own sheets, her heart had slowed enough that Azriel didn’t feel like he needed to fight.

Arranging himself to his arm was under her neck and her body, clad in a silvery night dress, was pressed against his own, Azriel exhaled softly. There was nothing inherently sexual about it, and yet the intimacy was enough to make him nervous. Gwyn pulled the blanket up to her chin and then turned to face him. “Will you hide me?” she asked. Azriel nodded, shifting both wings until they cocooned her within them.

Gwyn sighed.

Azriel was half asleep again when she whispered, “You forgot your dagger.”

He took a breath, a smile ghosting over his face. “That’s alright. I’ve got you.”

#gwynriel #shorter than usual this week #hopefully this makes up for it

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trevor-wilson-covington · 3 years

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What could have been...

//Saw that the site I use to make mood boards has a CD Cover option and thought it would be fun to do Sunset Curve’s Demo and Unreleased Songs (+Home Is Where My Horse Is) as they would look as singles!!! I may make CD Covers for the other 13 songs in the show...if people end up really liking these ones and if inspiration strikes!

**Gave an idea of what I think the other 7 songs would be about/why they were written (said what we know Unsaid Emily, Now or Never, and Home Is Where My Horse Is are about already of course too)!!

1. Unsaid Emily: Is of course about Luke’s rough relationship with his mom, which was never resolved before his death. It touches on how he knew he should have turned around and come back home but his pride stopped him. All the conversations he had created in his head about what they would say to each other when he finally saw her again stayed that way, thoughts in his head. Wondering if he had been able to say the right things to his mom or made up with her before dying, would time not have erased the memory of him?

2. Get Lost: I believe it is about the feeling of restlessness and wanting to just take off on an adventure somewhere new or unique. Similar to how Luke finds sleeves (zleeves) restricting, this song is about how life can feel suffocating sometimes and all you want to do is grab a bag of essentials and walk in the mist/ride off into the night to a freer life.

3. Long Weekend: Is about the band’s friendship/brotherhood/sense of found family and how over many weekends they find themselves going through a lot of struggles and heartache together. These are the weekends that feel the longest because there is so much the four boys help each other through and many times they find they don’t want the weekend to end so they can spend more non-band time together to just be four stupid teen boys navigating all the twists and turns of life.

4. Crooked Teeth: My thoughts are that it could have been written when he had braces/a retainer in the 90s & was self-conscious of it, so it was written to cheer Reggie up about his braces/retainer & pretty much say "hey, Reggie...people's smiles vary & they're all unique & beautiful"...instead of mocking him, like the show seems to tell us it was written to do.

5. My Name Is Luke: Is a darker, more introspective song about Luke’s struggle with an identity crisis where he feels he’s being pulled in different directions. One side is the Luke who loves his parents and wants to make them happy and have them be proud of him. The other side is the Luke. who is passionate about writing and playing music, who thrives off the feelings and energies of the crowd as they connect with him and his lyrics. Luke finds he can’t be one version of Luke without ultimately giving up the other and trying to do both is exhausting and soul crushing at times. The title is his way of saying ‘Hey, this is my name, it’s who I am, and I can be a loving son my parents can be proud of while also doing what I love and making a difference in the lives of people who listen to my music’. He just wishes his parents could come to understand that he loves music and he’s really good at it, so why can’t he continue doing it and make them proud at the same time.

6. Now or Never: Is, as we know, about Sunset Curve’s rise to fame and how they can dream as though they’ll never die but they’re going to live their life as though today could be their last day alive. They aren’t looking to the future, because all they need are each other and the energy that is coursing through their bodies in the present. They hear a voice in their heads saying you only have this one life, so make the most of it so when you die you’ll have had no regrets about the things you did or didn’t do. This is their time to shine and even when their lives were bleak or lacking, their days were still the best of their lives because they were making music and gradually making a name for themselves doing so.

Weaved in are of course lyrics that seem to foreshadow their 3 deaths with the mention of shock to their hearts (the defibrillators used to try to keep them alive in the alley or ambulance), clocks moving forward but they don’t get older (how for 25 yrs they were in limbo and didn’t age and are now 17-year-old ghosts in 2020), how they kept on climbing 'til their stars collided (floated up out of the ambulance to the dark place until crashing into Julie’s life (she’s a star as Luke says)), and how all that they left in the past was just the just the key to paradise (all the things they left behind once they died were just ‘stepping stones’ to the ‘paradise’ of heaven for most people or in the boy’s case the path to Julie and playing music again).

7. Late Last Night: Is about the late nights the four boys spent out at clubs/venues leading up to the Orpheum, gigs that helped them gain a decent following, and all the crazy things they saw and did. 17-year-olds out late partying, possibly drinking, on school nights. A higher energy song, similar to Now or Never to match the antics of a bunch of teens practically let loose on the music/club scene during the band’s rise in the Hollywood/LA music scene in ‘93/’94/’95. It evokes the feelings of being wild and reckless as a teen, while also somehow capturing the energy of the nighttime as you move from the crowded main strip into residential areas and how quick and jarring the change can be.

8. Lakeside Reflection: This is a tough one, but I think it would be about the individual experiences most or all of the boys have from going to lakes during summer with their families. There’s of course all the fun time spent with family, but in the reflection on the lake of those moments the boys only see the truth of their family dynamics, what was hidden behind a pleasant façade.

For Luke, it was the strained relationship and fights with his mom over the band and his dreams.

For Alex, it was the looks and offhanded comments made by his parents and the looks of sympathy from his sister, ever since he told them he was gay.

For Reggie, it was the nights spent keeping his brother and sister distracted as the walls practically shook from the volume and intensity of his parents’ almost daily fights.

And for Bobby, it was the truth that he kept up a façade even with the boys so they wouldn’t know that his family, that the others always believed to be perfect, wasn’t perfect at all. When rarely he saw his parents and they weren’t off on business trips or working late into the night, Bobby found them to be disinterested in his life and any affection or love was relegated to a pat on the back or a quick hand held before they rushed out the door once more.

The happy summer vibes at the lake could never truly make any of the boys forget their truths, but at least they could let loose for the extent of their trips and finally feel like a carefree teen again.

9. In Your Starlight: This would seem to be a certain kind of love song at first glance and for some people that’s what it may be, but to me it is a very specific kind of love song. This love song is about relationships each of the boys had, the very few of them, that didn’t turn out well for some reason or another. A passion for music overshadowing the passion to keep a relationship going. The fear of long-term commitment and a short-lived bliss, before the fighting starts, ending the relationship before it ever grew deeper. The smothering of a fire in the soul so outsiders can’t see one trace of its flicker, hidden behind a lie, in case they find out the truth and react with disgust or hatred. Or the overly flirtatious and, at times, clingy antics used to get a person interested in starting a relationship. To keep them invested in the relationship, in an effort to make sure they won’t leave out of boredom or for someone better. This song is from the perspective of those other people, how they saw the relationship, no matter the length, and what they see as the thing that ended it or kept it from growing stronger. How they all in some way felt like they were pulled in by light of each of the boys (the stars) and things were good at first, before the cracks started to appear and reality truly set in.

10. Home Is Where My Horse Is: It’s an expression of where and whom Reggie calls home. The horse had never really stood for an actual horse, but rather it represented Luke, Alex, and Bobby. The people Reggie considered his family, his home, more than he ever would the house he had grown up in. Horses symbolize freedom without restraint, because riding a horse makes people feel they can free themselves from their own bindings. There is no constraining a horse when it runs with the wind, but they also enjoy the company of family and friends. Reggie wants freedom from the stuff with his parents and his own personal demons that keep him held back. He finds with the band, his real family, he can run free and be himself...enjoying being around the boys and not having to worry about fighting and drama. His home is where he (the horse) is... able to be its true self and go where the wind takes it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #sunset curve #jatp fanart #jatp meta sort of #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #bobby wilson

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fangirlyah · 4 years

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✦kind queen of narnia - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

summary: a new prophecy for the narnia’s kingdom. a new member joining the kings and queens. but...who is it?

warnings: cursing

word count: 3,597

a/n: mi first edmund one shot, i’m so happy!

according to the books the ages of the characters should be different, but in this one-shot their ages will be those agreed by wikipedia reasoning with the actors’ age in the year of recording of the second film (it is an approximation):

Peter - 20

Susan - 17

Edmund - 15/16

Lucy - 12

Prince Caspian - 26

narnia, what a place.

anyone from england would look at y/n and the pevensie brothers in horror if they were told about this beautiful world full of fairytale creatures and landscapes.

they would probably be frightened if they were told that all narnians were preparing to face the telmarines; it would be their second battle in defence of their beloved lands.

they would also worry if they were told that there were prophecies dictating the fate of the teenagers.

the pevensies had been in narnia for a long time. they had grown up and reached adulthood there while time in england had barely passed. their first visit to the dream place had been when edmund was just ten years old and as the prophecy dictated he had betrayed his brother and sisters and then recomposed himself to follow the right path as a faithful ruler of narnia and become king edmund, the just.

when edmund was twenty years old in the narnian world, a gryphon passed over him and dropped a neatly rolled papyrus.

when his time on this earth comes to an end

a damsel with the purity of water and the sweetness of honey will get her start

if you listen well, attachment will flourish

if you listen badly, there will be pain

she is made to avoid pain in all

she is made to bring back peace

that doesn't even rhyme, he thought, and it doesn't make sense either.

even though the prophecy that had just arrived at his whereabouts was revealed to his brother and sisters, none of them understood, what girl was it talking about?

everything took on colour, when a thin figure collapsed against lucy at the train station.

"oh no! i'm so sorry, sweetheart" a girl of about sixteen years of age, apologized sincerely to the little girl who had been moved abruptly by the teenage girl's body. "i thought i was missing my train and i got terribly scared" the y/h/c outlined a sweet smile.

"there is no reason to apologise, we all make mistakes...my name is lucy and these are my brothers and my sister" the little girl stretched out her hand to shake it with y/n’s, while the other pointed behind her to three teenagers in uniform.

a pretty girl with striking eyes introduced herself as susan, while another slim blond boy said his name was peter. the third was immersed in his search for the train's arrival time, so he did not notice the conversation in front of him, the signs on the station walls seemed to be more interesting. "he is edmund...sorry he is half a fool" as he heard his name, the raven-haired boy looked up to meet a beautiful and delicate girl laughing at the comment his sister had made.

"my name is y/n, it is a pleasure to meet you" her gaze travelled through each member of the family leaving them with a smile; when it was edmund's turn her smile did not come down even though the one he showed her was hasty and if she had not been paying attention she would have missed it.

"where were you about to leave in such a hurry?" peter asked as the five of them move away due to some guards passing at full speed by their side, being all cornered against the wall the best decision they made was to take a seat, side by side, on a bench.

"my parents live in the countryside of england, and because of my school I haven't seen them for a long time so I didn't want to miss my train" y/n explained feeling the look of all the them.

"we were on our way there too! we must visit professor kirke, we haven't seen him for a long time"

that was their first meeting, the first meeting of many. y/n and the pevensies developed the closest and most faithful friendship in the world. they spent all their holidays enjoying the countryside together and when school resumed, they took several trains and walked several blocks just to see each other almost every week.

and although their meetings were frequent edmund did not always seem pleased by her presence. the months passed and although y/n began to develop a crush on the freckle boy he seemed to ignore her every move. even when she bought his favourite sweets to share with everyone or when she would sneak a compliment on his attire on some special occasion. y/n was good at hiding her feelings so only susan knew and she hoped it would stay that way.

it was not until the five of them were waiting for their train to leave for their respective boarding school that the action began.

the train they were to board disappeared and with it the whole station around them, leaving lucy, peter, edmund, susan and y/n standing on a paradise beach.

the brothers began to walk towards the white sand, leaving the cave where they had landed, followed by a shocked y/n

"where are we?” when lucy heard y/n's voice she looked at her sister with a smile and then started to run, getting rid of their school uniforms.

"come on, y/n!" peter shouted as he dipped his feet into the clear water.

she did not resist and followed her friends, leaving a few clothes to play in the water.

edmund saw her laughing, with her wet hair, in the sun and remembered how in love he was with the girl he ignored so much.

"what is it?" asked peter as he saw his brother stop having fun; edmund couldn't admit that the sight of y/n had knocked him out so he had to improvise.

"where do you suppose that we are?

"it's pretty obvious, isn't it? we are in narnia” by this time, the girls had stopped their water fight and were paying attention to the boys.

"well...i don't remember any ruins in narnia”

"narnia?! you must be joking?!" y/n exclaimed.

"yes, narnia" peter said, looking at her as if nothing was happening.

"but...narnia...the narnia you told me as a story from when you were children?"

"they are not stories..."

with that, the brothers began to tour the meadows where, 1300 years ago, cair paravel was located. where now only ruins remained of what had been their home.

the surprise of y/n was not erased and even less so when they found the prophecy that dictated their destiny.

"edmund! this was the prophecy that appeared to you” susan was right but edmund did not want y/n to know that for some magical reason the prophecy had come to HIS hands.

"what? a prophecy about me?" y/n posed her body next to peter who had the paper in his hands.

"no one enters narnia without a purpose" the little pevensie sister explained.

"there is no way i can be this girl! i have no talent, i am not so-"

peter interrupted her by placing his hands on the girl's thin shoulders.

"you may think so, but narnia and its magic is more powerful than ourselves and our supposed abilities"

edmund had to swallow hard not to go and take the girl from his brother's arms. he had no right to take her away. edmund did not know how to approach her so their contact was minimal, to the misfortune of both of them.

those days continued peacefully and then chaos erupted throughout the kingdom.

aslan disappeared and newcomer caspian caused maximum tension.

although the pevensie, caspian, and trumpkin had taken it upon themselves to make her aware of what was going on around her, she was still afraid. she had many people trusting her actions and that they would return the peace.

she had always been a leader and narnia was no exception. y/n was equal to peter and caspian in decision making as she was cunning and quick in making decisions but when it came to attacking came her weakness. there was no feeling inside her body that would leave her conscience clear if she killed or injured any human or creature.

although edmund kept his countenance neutral when it came to her, his heart melted whenever she mentioned her lack of courage to hold a weapon and go on the attack.

"y/n, you coming?" caspian turned on his axis before leaving for the battle on the castle of miraz.

"i can help with maps, plans and strategies but with this...i can't, sorry”

edmund had heard several creatures criticize the girl's lack of courage to confront a hand-to-hand fight; and he could not help but think that he maybe was disappointed by her attitude too.

"why is she here if she can't even pick up a weapon, of any kind, without shaking?" the freckled boy would adjust his armor before going into battle.

"don't be mean, edmund. she is too good to go out and kill someone" his older sister tried to talk some sense into him, especially because before edmund entered the room where susan was, y/n had retired just a few seconds before but susan knew that she was not far enough not to hear their conversation; and hear the boy who she liked talk so badly about her would not be a nice moment.

"or she's too much of a coward" was a fact, y/n was listening to the whole conversation, as she felt her heart breaking.

"if she bothers you so much that she doesn't fight, show her. you are the best at using the sword in combat in all of narnia"

"I won't" at the end of the day he wasn't so brave after all.

now it was y/n who ignored him. whether in meetings or in their free time, she did not even give him a glance and he noticed. because edmund was very attentive to what she was doing or not doing, so it was not difficult for him to see her practicing with prince caspian her fighting, on the beach, more than one afternoon while he went for his walks.

it hurt him but he knew that her distancing was his fault.

caspian did not question the reason for the girl's drastic change, he only offered to help her and she accepted.

they spent hours covered in sweat and sand but she did not seem to mind, she wanted to prove a point to edmund and herself. her days were divided into training, alone or with others, and creating plans and strategies. her rest was almost non-existent and her tired figure was beginning to show. her breakfasts were short and quick like any other meal of the day. she ate with her head down and conversed with anyone but edmund.

one cool night edmund tried to sleep in his large room but the sound of a sword moving and colliding with a shield prevented him from doing so. from the high window it was impossible for him to decipher where it came from but he assumed that it meant no danger as none of the guards seemed alert; but he still descended in search of the owner of the sound.

when he entered the courtyard below his room he saw her. covered in sweat and with her sword in her hand as she moved abruptly against an armament tied to a tree. edmund found y/n’s invention very ingenious and was even more surprised to see her move almost perfectly, it seemed almost natural to her.

"what are you doing here at this hour?" after minutes of watching her from a few meters away, the younger pevensie brother approached.

"I could ask you the same thing" y/n did not even move her eyes, she just approached the tree to accommodate the armor tied with leather.

"I was trying to sleep but an unbearable noise woke me up, Ijust wanted to know who was causing it...now I know"

“I didn't know it was so annoying" edmund still couldn't see her face.'' I'll stop now..."

gently, despite being preparing to go out and kill men and creatures, she put her sword in its compartment hanging from her hip, and then dried her face with a wet piece of cloth.

"why are you doing this anyway?"

"some people don't believe me strong enough to fulfill the prophecy...they think I'm a coward" y/n looked into his eyes for the first time and edmund understood what she meant.

"you should stop. you look exhausted, besides I didn't-"

"keep it to yourself..." already when she had passed the freckle boy's body petrified in the garden, y/n continue "and it seems that it is never enough, so yes. if I need to keep practicing"

edmund knew that she was absolutely right. before she started her daily combat lessons, she gave everything she had from what she could. she had taken risks and was adapting to being the future queen of a place, which until a while ago, was completely unknown for her.

y/n would not admit it but that night she cried like never before. she did not know exactly if it was tiredness, confusion, sadness or that she was heartbroken. but whatever the right choice was, that night she fainted in a tearful dream without managing to take off her sweaty clothes.

the next morning she appeared at breakfast as if nothing had happened. clean and unpolluted in a freshly washed and ironed dress that accentuated every attribute she had. lucy had heard her crying and was dying to ask what was so terrifying that made her cry like that, but seeing her serious countenance when y/n saw her brother sitting at the table, despite her young age, lucy easily put it together.

after preventing jadis, the white witch, return to narnia. caspian and his allies had no choice but to confront the troops of miraz in front of the altozano. meanwhile, lucy and susan were leaving in search of aslan. y/n did not go with them. she remained at the site of the battle.

when everyone was out ready to fight, so was she. edmund had seen her keep medical supplies anywhere in the armour she found space with the intention of helping any wounded being she might encounter. he felt extremely guilty; she did not want to be there and should not have been. she could have quietly stayed in the shelter ready to help anyone who came looking for a hand but he had pressed her with words he did not even feel.

to gain time the camp became a personal battle between peter and miraz. both begin to fight to the death. both armies gathered around the stone platform where the two men were fighting hand to hand. edmund looked at y/n who was standing next to a centaur with her perfectly placed weaponry; her serious countenance hid any doubt or fear that her brain was processing.

although the elder pevensie managed to have a dying miraz in front of him, peter did not kill him.

"you are too much of a coward to take a life, king peter?" miraz, despite being on his knees almost dead, kept on fighting.

"it's not mine to take"

with that said, the blond man stepped back to give the sword to y/n; who looked at them perplexed. she understood that she must do so to fulfill the prophecy. she had all eyes on her and her trembling hands that took the sword and stood before the wounded man.

edmund saw tears welling up in her beautiful eyes as she looked down at miraz. y/n placed the tip of the sword on the man's neck with her chest rising and falling violently.

the freckled boy wanted to run towards her to hug and kiss all her nerves and fears away but he couldn't.

as the seconds passed and the girl did not move from her place, a laugh was heard in the telmarine’s army and that was the limit.

edmund gently approached the girl and placed his hands on top of the sword taking it out of her hands

"let go, it's okay" he whispered as, with the help of his hands, he pushed her back to where she was before.

by that point the tears had already come out of her eyes and at that moment she felt like a real coward. she felt the disappointed looks despite her head being down and the tall stature of edmund in front of her limiting her view.

"stupid girl, this is not the girl of the prophecy! she is just an idio-"

when edmund wanted to turn around and finish the work that peter had started, an arrow pierced miraz’s chest and chaos began.

despite her blurred vision, y/n remained on the battlefield. she had escaped from edmund's side when the war cries were first heard.

although she did not use her sword she was fast enough to escape the attacks and manage to help those wounded in the meadows.

the two armies were facing each other in battle and when the narnians were about to lose, lucy found aslan. the lion awakened the narnian trees, allowing them to come to the aid of the narnian army.

amidst the screams and sounds of colliding swords, aslan called out to the water god, who drowns much of the telmarine army.

and the war is over.

in the midst of the destruction, everyone begins to celebrate with smiles on their faces despite the large number of narnians lost in battle, there was cause for celebration.

the pevensies had met aslan and on the seashore, they were enjoying a good chat.

"where is y/n y/l?" asked aslan curiously "she fulfilled the prophecy perfectly"

"but she was not who killed miraz, it was caspian who had to see the kingdom free" trumpkin seemed upset and the desire to kick his little figure flourished in edmund.

"you don't need to kill someone to restore peace and help your people"

with that said, edmund began to look for her with his eyes...and found her. sitting on a stone, passing a natural ointment on a faun’s arm.

at that moment the boy understood that y/n should not learn to fight and use weapons to save narnia. with her kindness, intelligence and healing skills it was more than enough. he wanted to tell her. he wanted to tell her what an idiot he had been in wanting to force her to do something she was not even meant to do.

without saying a word edmund ran off in her direction.

when y/n saw him quickly approaching her, she stood up from her place and watched him as he arrived and took her arm to walk into the forest.

"I know what you are going to say and I am sorry..." as soon as the boy slowed down his pace the two faced each other in the middle of the forest lighted by rays of sunshine piercing the tree leaves. they were less than a metre away and yet edmund wanted to be even closer "I know you are disappointed in me, I know you all are... but i could not, ok?! I just could not! I cannot be queen of narnia with this attitude, I did not make it. I did not fulfill the prophecy and now-"

edmund took his face with both hands and brought it close to him, silencing her hasty and nervous speech; in less than a second both were immersed in a deep kiss that y/n took a few seconds to reciprocate due to her surprise. her hands travelled to his chest covered by the narnian battle uniform as his hands caress her cheeks softly.

the kiss was quick but sweet, as if they were frustrated romantics who had not been able to kiss each other for centuries.

when the kiss broke both chests went up and down as if they had finished running a marathon, but despite this they could not let go. now edmund's arms were wrapped around her and her arms caressed his neck as they looked at each other.

"you saved narnia without the need to kill anyone, you earned narnia without using force if not kindness"

"you're not disappointed?" a slight surprise occupied the boy’s body.

"all your training and you coming out to fight today, was because of me?"

"I just...just wanted to be enough for you" y/n was sincere, there was no need to lie.

"the conversation you heard between susan and me was a mistake, I would never be disappointed in you and you are far, far away from being a coward and you proved that from the minute you set foot in this kingdom"

she rested her forehead on his as a response.

"I am so in love with you" he sighed realizing the chill that ran through the girl's body.

"today is your lucky day king edmund, because i am more in love with you" a small laugh broke out from both of them.

"impossible"

with that said, they both joined in another kiss. this time a slow one. they had all the time in the world.

after all they were king and queen of narnia, no one could rush them.

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #one shots #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #edmund pevensie x y/n #narnia #the cronicles of narnia #prince caspian #fantasy #queen #kings #narnia fanfiction

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mayraki · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER ONE

“where it all began: in prision”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

who is max belinsky?

concept boards for the new characters

summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.

What are the perfect words to describe Max Belinsky? Well, there’s many. The first thing that people think when they see her is: here comes trouble. Her attitude, humor and the ways to get into trouble gave her that reputation. Sometimes, she wasn’t even tying to get into trouble, but somehow it had it’s ways and it would always find her. She would be walking and then around the corner, there it was; trouble. But she got used to that life, she started to love it, always wishing for that feeling of rush it would give her. She learnt to carry the fame that the people gave her on her shoulders, with pride.

Living in the lovely Outer Banks had it’s ups and downs, more downs than anything else. For example, downs? It was far from everything. And you had two options, living in a huge mansion, having everything handed to you without moving a finger, or working your butt off every single day to have a decent meal on your table. Ups? It’s paradise on earth! Or at least for some people. But Max liked living there... well, it’s not like she had the money to get the hell out of there. But, in the meantime, she had her best friend, an island that she knew like the palm of her hand, and the desire to have the best summer of her life.

She made that pact with her best friend, Sam, since the two of them walked outside their classroom the last day of school. But, it had it’s consequences, for example, ending up on the back of a police car after a accident in an abandoned building. That’s specific, because that’s where Max was on that lovely night of Saturday.

“Max, there has to be a last time where I have you on the back of my car.” Officer Presley said while watching Max on the driving mirror. She was looking at the trees passing and then a little laugh came out of her mouth once the memory came into her mind.

“Well, it’s not my fault that Officer Johnson can’t keep himself straight.” Max tried to hold on a laugh while the face of the Officer was going on and on in her head like a broken DVD.

“You ran towards him! You jumped and that made him fall into the floor.” Officer Presley let out a big sigh to calm herself. She knew Max too well, and she understood a while back that arguing with her was not going to get her anywhere.

“It was an accident!” Max said defending herself. “I was running away, and then I tripped making me fall on top of him. It was not on purpose! That was not my intention in the begging, but, my plan worked and my friends are safe from you guys. So...” She let her back rest on the back of her seat satisfied with her actions.

“Still doesn’t make it right, Max. You’ll get in serious trouble one of these days, and it’s going to be in your record forever. You want that?” Officer Presley always tried to guide Max on the right path, which was keeping her away from getting into trouble, but Max never listened. She would always ask something to change the topic.

“How’s the wife, Jennifer?” Max asked with a smile. But when Officer Presley was about to say something, was cut off by her little radio.

“Officer Presley?” The voice spoke. Max recognised Deputy Miller’s voice and started to listen to the conversation carefully.

“Yes sr?”

“You have Miss. Belinsky with you?”

“Yes, ready to head back to the station.”

“There’s been a call about a young man showing a gun at a party. He’s in the main beach with Officer Johnson. Pick him up.”

“Yes, sr.” The car made an U turn and now they were facing the beach.

“You know, that Miller, I don’t like him. He seems like a douche bag. Is it that hard to say ‘please’?” Max said while slowly shaking her head left and right.

“He’s my boss, Max, he doesn’t have to say please.” Max rolled her eyes and then let out a big sigh, making Officer Presley look at her in the driving mirror.

“You can do better, Jennifer. Being boss around by a man that doesn’t know how to be a decent human being? Fuck that.”

“Language, Max.”

“I’m just saying! You’re so much better than those guys.” Officer Presley pulled the car over once they were on the entrance of the main beach.

“Well, you better keep that to yourself since Officer Johnson is coming.” Max turned her head to the window next to her and noticed two figures walking towards the car. It was dark, but Max was able to figure out that the tall man was the cop, and the one next to him was the freak who showed to a party with a gun.

“You want me to say to Officer Johnson what I really think? Because you know me, I will.” Max said after looking back at Officer Presley.

“Max, don’t.” She said before getting out of the car.

Max shrugged her shoulders and then went back to looking out the window. She was trying to figure out who was the guy next to Johnson, but the light outside wasn’t enough. All she could see was that he was wearing some old boots and a sleeveless shirt. Max lifted her eyebrows once the guy stretched and a piece of light made it possible to see it his arms perfectly.

“Well... damn.” Max let out a little laugh once the thought of her being attracted to a guy with a gun appeared on her mind.

Officer Presley got inside the car and Max turned to her. “Be nice.”

“What? I’m always nice.” Max said in her defence but Officer Presley gave her a serious look. “Alright, I’m going to be nice to the dude that waved a gun to a bunch of people at a party, sure!” Presley caught her sarcastic tone and then added;

“That’s not what happend.” Curiosity hit Max’s body, but couldn’t ask anything about it, since the opposite door to where Max was opened, letting the mysterious guy enter the car.

JJ Maybank. The other famous troublemaker, the one who would get himself into fights, ending up drunk and having tourons around his arms. The both knew who each other were, their reputation amongst the police and the Pogues didn’t pass unnoticed by anyone. But they didn’t say anything to each other, they turned to the front seats once Officer Johnson got inside the car and his head popped out and looked to where JJ and Max were.

“I should’ve seen this day coming, we have the two most famous teens that fuck things up in our car tonight.” Johnson said and then a little laugh come out of his mouth. It was like he was making fun of them for finally being caught, and that made Max roll her eyes. Presley got annoyed at that comment and Max let out a little smile once she noticed.

“It’s nice to see you on your two feet, Johnson.” Max said and he rolled his eyes.

“This two have been causing me headaches since they started to think for themselves.”

“Aw, I’m honored to be recognised for that.” Max said with a proud smile.

“Yeah, we should get a price or something.” JJ said and Max turned to him with a smirk. He winked at her, but she just turned back to the front seats, ignoring the wink completely.

“The only price you two are going to get are community service hours. Now, shut up and let the adults talk.” Johnson said and then closed the little window they had between the front seats and the back.

“What a lovely man.” Max said sarcastically. She turned to see the street passing on her window, but when she felt JJ moving on her side, she locked eyes with him.

“The famous Max Belinsky...” JJ said and Max furrowed her eyebrows.

“Huh?”

“It’s nice to finally meet the other supposed ‘troublemaker’.”

“Supposed?” Max asked. She felt a joking tone on his voice.

“Well, people like to call us that. But I just see two hot teenagers trying to have fun while they’re on this boring ass town.”

Max lifted an eyebrow once she heard the word ‘hot’ coming out of his mouth. “You think I’m hot?” Max expected JJ to get nervous and shy when she caught him calling her hot. But it was the opposite, JJ let out a smirk and then nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Unbelievable. You’re flirting with me on our way to the police station... I guess your reputation it’s not a fairytale.” Max turned her head to her window letting JJ know the conversation was over, but when she heard him laugh her head never turned so quickly. “What��s funny?”

“Nothing. I’ll just wait to see you in action, then.” He said and a little smirk appeared on her face. Like Max expected to see JJ nervous earlier, JJ expect the same thing once he started to flirt with her, usually that’s what the girls get when he does it on them, get all blushed, but Max rolled her eyes and then looked the other way, making JJ get even more interested in the girl he had next to him.

“Looking good Kelly!” Max yelled once Presley let her get out of the car and she locked eyes with the old lady that worked next to the police station. “Nice earrings!”

Kelly gave Max a little smile and then waved at Presley, but she was giving Max a serious look witch Max responded with an innocent smile.

They carried on walking up the stairs to the police station, and once they were inside, Max gained a couple of stares from the multiple people in the room, they all knew her too well, more than they would all like to. But once Jennifer took Max to the cell at the end of the long corridor, Max was out of their sight.

“Ah... the smell of fresh coffee. I’m never going to get tired of the smell in this room.” Max said to Presley, but she locked the cell and then walked away, without giving Max one of her famous lectures.

Max sat down on the bench at the side of the room and then let her back rest on the wall. She let her eyes went over the room, she saw it a couple of months ago when she ended up there after getting caught stealing some alcohol from some Kooks. The dark walls and the cold feeling the room gave off, even if it was one of the hottest days outside. She started to let her feet go back and forth out of boredom, when she heard the cell door open again and JJ Maybank appeared in front of her.

“Behave, or I’ll add you more hours to your community service.” Officer Johnson said and JJ saluted him, wich led to Johnson rolling his eyes and then locking the cell door once again.

“Well... I guess we’re going to be here a while, I guess it’s time for us to get to know each other.”

“Do we have to?”

“C’mon, you’re my cell buddy, we do!” JJ sat down on the floor across to where Max was.

She let out a little sigh and then crossed her arms around her chest. “What do you want to know?”

“Why are you here?” As soon as JJ asked that, the memory of Officer Johnson came into Max’s mind and a little laugh escaped her mouth.

“I went to the old building on the side of the road with a bunch of my friends, and I was the distraction once the cops came.” JJ gave Max an approval nod. He indeed was. He was starting to see the girl that everyone was talking about, even though they were already in a cell.

“Being the hero, nice bro.”

“Thanks.” The opportunity that Max wanted on the car came. “And I guess you’re here for waving a gun to a bunch of people?” She didn’t hesitate asking, since the words came out of the mouth faster than she intended.

JJ let out a little laugh and then looked down. “I didn’t waved the gun. It feel from my backpack after some annoying Kook pushed me.”

“Ah, the Kooks...” Max slowly nodded. “They never fail on making us angry.”

“Exactly. They are all a bunch of rich brats.”

Max pointed at JJ with a smile. “Now, the first time we agree on something.” JJ nodded and a little laugh came out of his mouth.

“Well, that’s not right though. We both agree that the other one is pretty hot.” He said and Max shook her head confused.

“I don’t think I ever agreed on that, dude.”

“C’mon! You were totally into me when i flirted with you on the car, don’t lie.”

“You’re not that good at reading people, bro.” A little laugh escaped Max’s mouth and JJ pretend to be offended.

“For your information, I’m pretty good at this stuff.”

“Mmm? Really? I don’t think so.”

“Are you coming to the Kegger tomorrow night? I can show you there how good I am.” JJ said quickly.

“I’m usually don’t impressed.”

“Well, you haven’t met me.”

“I just did.” Max pointed at herself and then at JJ. “And... I’m still not impressed.”

JJ nodded and then a little smirk appeared on his face. “Playing hard to get. Alright, I like a good challenge.”

“Don’t call me challenge, dude.”

JJ lifted his hands into the air. “Sorry, my bad. But seriously... are you coming to the party?”

Max lifted an eyebrow and a little smirk apoyos her face. “Do you want me to?”

“See now, you’re the one who’s flirting with me.” JJ said with a smile but Max shook her head.

“This is not how I flirt, believe me.”

“I can’t believe you, it’s really hard for me, why don’t you come here and show me? Like a demonstration.”

Max let out a fake smile. “Ha, ha. Very funny.” She said sarcastically and JJ shrugged his shoulders.

“Worth the try.”

Once both of them heard a couple of steps coming from the other side, they both turned their heads to the noise, finding Deputy Miller walking towards them with a arrogant smile on his face. “Having fun you two?” He said after opening the cell door. “Ready?”

After walking inside the Deputy’s office, Max and JJ sat down across his desk. Officer Presley walked into the room followed by Johnson.

“It was time these two got what they deserve.” Johnson let out a big laugh and Max rolled her eyes. She hated watching him so happy and proud with himself.

“Johnson, calm down.” Presley said annoyed.

Deputy Miller walked into the room and then proceeded to sit down on his desk. He wasn’t taking his eyes away from some papers he had on his hands, Max started to get impatient, but she didn’t want to show it. She had her natural little smile on her face and was looking around the room, but once she stopped on JJ, he turned to her and gave her a wink. Max gave him the ‘seriously?’ look, making JJ let out a little laugh.

Deputy Miller looked up from his papers and then sighed, taking his glasses from his face and then looking back at JJ and Max.

“You’re not going to get bored of this lifestyle, aren’t you?” They both looked at each other trying to figure out who he was talking to. “I’m talking to both of you.”

“Oh, that’s good to know.” Max said and Deputy Miller shook his head disappointed.

“We have two different cases here, but we’re going to handle them equally. You two are going to do 24 hours of community service. We’re talking cleaning beaches, docks, the water...”

“24 hours?” JJ asked surprised at the amount of hours they were giving them. Deputy Miller nodded.

“I have to work, man. I can’t do 24 hours.” Max said with the same expression as JJ.

“You should’ve thought that before going into that private property.” Johnson said but Max didn’t turn to him, she kept looking at Deputy Miller, trying to figure a way out of that situation.

“Is this or it’s going to stay in you record forever.” Miller said and then turned to Max specifically. “Now, Belinsky, I don’t think your parents are going to like this... am I right?” That seemed to had hit Max on the inside, since she straightened her back and then looked down. That caught JJ’s attention, for the first time since he knew Max, she didn’t respond, and that made JJ intrigued, but when Miller turned to him he looked away from her. “Maybank. I can say the same thing for you?”

JJ cleared his thought and Max looked up to him. “Yes, sr.” They both locked eyes but then looked away after a couple of seconds.

Maybe they had more in common than just their reputation.

“Dude! I seriously can’t believe we’re doing community service. This sucks!” Max said once they were out of the police station.

JJ followed her once she started to walk away. “That’s what you get for being the hero.” He said. She was about to say something but when JJ sat on the floor and proceeded to take off his boot, she stood there confused.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked looking down at him.

JJ smiled once he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the blunt and Max felt disgusted once she saw the little white roll on JJ’s hand.

“That’s disgusting man!” Max said, but JJ didn’t bother, he grabbed the lighter he had on his back pocket and then proceeding to light the blunt.

“It’s better than being caught with weed.” He shrugged his shoulders and then continued walking away. But then turned around to see Max still standing in the middle of the street. “You want one?” He let the smoke come out of his mouth.

“I’m good.” Max reached the back of his shorts and took the blunt out from her pocket. JJ let out a big smile after she showed him the roll, and then walked back to where Max was, handing her his lighter which she took gratefully.

“I guess we’re going to see more of each other now.” JJ said after they were both happy with their blunts and continued walking.

“I guess.” Max let the smoke come out of her mouth and she enjoyed the feeling of the slight wind that was blowing on her face. JJ turned his head to see her and noticed a little star tattoo behind her ear. He wanted to ask her about it, but the words weren’t coming out of his mouth, like he was mesmerised by her. “I’ll see tomorrow, then.” Max said before crossing the street.

“Tomorrow?” JJ asked confused.

“Don’t you want me on that kegger you’re throwing?” Max asked with a little smirk.

JJ took the blunt to his mouth and then nodded. “I’ll be looking for you!” He yelled since Max was now far away.

This time, she was the one who winked at him, leaving the poor boy with a head full of questions about the famous Max Belinsky.

CHAPTER TWO

here’s the first chapter of Don’t mess with the troublemakers! I’m so nervous to post this because I worked so hard on the story and I’m so proud of it. I hope y’all like it and let me know what you think of the first chapter! that would mean a lot :)

TAGLIST

@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @lasnaro @k-k0129 @x-lulu

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

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tarja-turunens-cheekbones · 3 years

Text

Tied Together (Sharja One Shot)

A collab between me and @your-local-metal-lesbian 😊

It was a sunny day in Vizovice, Czech Republic. The perfect festival weather, Sharon thought. But it wasn't just the weather that made that day perfect. It was something else. Someone else, actually. Tarja Turunen, her old friend, who made her feel emotions that she didn’t even know she had. She first noticed it during the video shoot of Paradise. She instantly felt this strange, but beautiful kind of connection. She felt like that woman knew her better than she did. Also, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Sharon had a hard time trying to not look at her constantly.

Every time they met, Sharon thought her feelings might change, that maybe her heart wouldn’t go into overdrive when she saw her, that she wouldn’t go weak in the knees at the sound of her sweet laugh. But instead, they only seemed to get more intense.

And now, she was sitting right next to her, a glass of wine in her hand, on the balcony of Sharon’s hotel room. They had a view of the little town and the rolling green hills beyond. The setting sun was reflecting from Tarja’s black hair and made her pale skin shine. Sharon thought that she looked more beautiful than ever and not just one forbidden thought was on her mind.

“I’m so glad we got to do this.”

Sharon was pulled from her thoughts by the voice of her friend.

“Me too,” she said, smiling. “Let’s not wait two years to perform together again, okay?”

“Deal.” Tarja raised her glass, and Sharon tapped it with her own.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the year?” Tarja asked once she had swallowed her sip of wine.

“Well, we’ll be performing at festivals for the rest of the summer still, and then preparing for our tour with Evanescence next year.”

“I heard about that! That will be so cool, and I’m sure the fans will love it.”

Sharon nodded. “Yeah, we’re really excited. And you’re going to be on the road for a while, right?”

Tarja nodded. “Yes, I have a couple more festival shows in the summer, and then I’ll be touring in Russia for most of the fall. And then it will be time for the Christmas concerts!”

By that time, both of their glasses were empty.

“Want some more?’’ Sharon asked.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.’’

She poured some more of the wine in the glasses and gave Tarja a light smile.

“You look really cute today, by the way,’’ the younger singer said. “Well, you actually look cute everyday.’’

“Oh, thanks sweetie, so do you, but you know that, right?’’ Sharon responded with a smile. Tarja smiled back, without making eye contact, and took a large sip of wine. She was definitely going to need it. Sharon, her secret crush, was flirting with her. Or was she? Tarja couldn’t tell. She finished the glass and got herself even more.

“Looks like we’re gonna be drunk even before it gets dark.’’ Sharon laughed before she chugged her entire glass to keep up with Tarja.

At this point, she could feel the wine doing its magic.

“What's the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you onstage?’’ Sharon asked.

“Oh, god, don’t even ask…’’ the other singer said, rolling her eyes.

A mischievous grin formed on Sharon’s lips. “Great, now you made me even more interested in it.’’

“Nope, that's just too… You know.’’

“Come on, tell me.’’

“No, I'm so not telling you.’’ Tarja started laughing at the memory.

“Please, tell me, or…’’

An idea formed in Sharon’s mind.

“Or?’’ Tarja asked and raised her eyebrows slightly.

“Or I'm gonna find a spider. You don't want that, right?’’

“Nope.’’

“So are you gonna tell me?’’

“No.’’

“Come on, what if I get us another bottle if you tell me?’’

“Deal,’’ she said.

“So, what happened?’’

“My pants broke on stage and I had yellow underpants.’’

Sharon started laughing, a lot. “Oh my god, that's horrible. What did you do about it?’’

“Well, I went backstage and changed during the guitar solo,’’ Tarja responded, giggling.

“You handled it well. Now let's get us a new bottle, shall we?’’

They walked to the store, hand in hand, laughing to everything the other one said. They suddenly felt like their worlds were complete. Tarja picked a random wine bottle from the liquor section, and they walked up to the cash register. Sharon had to let go of their linked hands when she pulled her card out of her wallet, but as soon as she had paid, Tarja reached for her hand again, and her heart somersaulted in her chest.

“What are we gonna do now? We can go back, or we can walk around a bit,’’ Sharon asked her.

“Yeah, let’s take a walk. I think there's a nice park nearby,’’ the other woman answered. “By the way, what is the worst thing that happened to you onstage?’’ Tarja continued.

“Oh, I don't know, probably when I confused languages and started speaking German in France.’’ She winced slightly at the memory.

“That's pretty funny as well.’’ Tarja smiled.

“Well, it wasn't at the moment,’’ Sharon said and giggled.

“Yeah, that's understandable.”

They had turned the corner from the paved street and onto a gravel path that led into the park. It was dark outside now, but the light blooming from the streetlights lining the path was enough for them to see by.

“Look, there's a really cool tree!” Tarja said, pointing to a large oak with low-hanging branches up the path a bit to their left. “How great would it be if we drank the wine under it?’’

“Yes, it's pretty cool. Not cooler than me though,” Sharon said, and they both laughed.

They sat under it, opened the wine and shared some more funny stories. Soon, the bottle was almost empty, and Sharon felt warm and content.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Tarja said, giggling.

“What?”

“We should climb the tree. Don’t you think this would be more fun if we were up in the branches?”

In her intoxicated state, this sounded like the best idea in the world. “Yes,” Sharon agreed. “We absolutely should.”

Still giggling, Tarja hooked her arm over one of the lowest branches and tried to pull herself up. “Can you help me?”

Sharon gave her a gentle push until she was able to get herself on the branch.

“Now you,” Tarja said, holding out her hand.

Sharon grasped onto it and pushed against the tree trunk with her feet until she was able to get the leverage she needed to make it up to the branch as well.

“Yay, we did it!” Tarja clapped her hands and almost lost her balance, but Sharon quickly reached out with one arm to steady her while keeping the other hand firmly on the branch.

“That’s the perfect spot,” Tarja said, pointing up the tree a ways to a divet in the branches that would have enough space for both of them to lean against the trunk.

It was easy enough to climb to it, and it was a tight squeeze, but Sharon didn’t mind that Tarja had to be half on her lap. The younger woman rested her head on Sharon’s shoulder. “This is perfect,” she whispered.

“Yes, it is.” Sharon looked down at her friend and couldn’t resist running her fingers through her silky hair.

They stayed like this for a few moments until Tarja looked up suddenly. “Where’s the wine?”

“I think we left it at the bottom,” Sharon said.

“No! We need the wine.” Tarja looked alarmed, and she started to climb back down. Sharon reluctantly followed her, even though she would have been happy to stay in that spot all night.

When she reached the base of the trunk again, Tarja was looking inside the wine bottle with a disappointed expression on her face.

“It’s almost gone,” she said. She held it out to Sharon. “You can have it.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t need it.”

“We can split it then,” Tarja said, and raised the bottle to her lips.

Sharon watched the muscles in the other woman’s neck contract as she swallowed, and she felt her throat go dry.

“Here.” Tarja held out the bottle to her, and she drank the last tiny sip.

When Sharon set the bottle down, Tarja was gazing up at the tree. “I don’t think I have the energy to go back up there.”

“Me either,” Sharon said. “Let’s just stay here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tarja said and sighed happily, snuggling closer to her friend once more.

Sharon put her arms around her and leaned against the base of the trunk. Within moments, she felt Tarja’s breathing settle into a slow rhythm. She knew they had to get back to the hotel soon, but she was sleepy and didn’t want to disturb the woman in her arms. Without meaning to, she let her eyes close and rested her head on Tarja’s.

Ruud watched with dismay from behind a nearby tree as Sharon and Tarja fell asleep. He had watched his best friend stare after the Finnish singer with puppy-dog eyes for the past six years and had watched Tarja give her the same longing looks when she wasn’t aware. He had hoped that tonight, when he had seen them leave the hotel holding hands and skipping down the street to the grocery store, that one of them would admit their feelings with the influence of the alcohol that they were clearly under. But it hadn’t happened.

“Idiots,” Stefan mumbled, voicing his thoughts, and he looked over to see his friend shaking his head.

“We need to do something,” Jeroen said.

“Like what?”

A mischievous glint sparked in Stefan’s eye. “We should play a prank on them.”

Ruud smiled.

“What would we do? Draw on their faces or something?” Jeroen asked.

“Hmm,” said Stefan. “I think we can do better than that.”

A moment later, Ruud held up his hand. “I’ve got it.”

After he explained the idea to his bandmates, they tiptoed across the path to where the two singers lay fast asleep. The knelt down and began carefully untying their shoelaces. They froze when Tarja stirred, but she just draped her arm across Sharon’s shoulder and made a soft noise before seeming to fall asleep again.

They glanced at each other again before continuing their work. Once the laces were untied, they began tying the laces of their shoes together, one from each foot. They had to move Sharon’s legs slightly closer, but luckily she didn’t seem disturbed. Once they had the laces of each of their shoes together, they tied them multiple, tight knots.

Ruud glanced to his right to see Stefan trying to stifle laughter, and he had to contain his own as well.

Once they were satisfied with their handiwork, they got up and dusted off their hands, giving each other silent high-fives before returning to the hotel.

Tarja woke up very confused. Her head was hurting and she had no idea where she was. This definitely didn’t feel like her hotel room. It kind of felt like she was outside. And there was someone with her. She opened her eyes and saw her friend sleeping next to her. It was still dark and there was an empty wine bottle laying near them.

“Sharon?’’

Her friend wiggled a bit next to her. “Yes, sweetie?’’.

Tarja couldn't believe her ears. She called her sweetie. That could mean something. Or perhaps she was still drunk.

“Where are we?’’ Tarja asked in a sleepy voice.

“I don't know, somewhere in Czech Republic,’’ Sharon answered, her eyes still closed. Tarja quickly looked around. She could see a high building with the word “hotel’’ written on it. Could this be their hotel? It was a small city, this could be the only hotel there. She got up to look around a bit more, but she fell on the ground immediately.

“Damn it, Tarja, what are you doing?’’ Sharon asked.

“Looks like some idiot tied our shoelaces together. Do you have all your stuff, or did they rob us as well?’’

Sharon checked all her pockets and sighed in relief.

“I seem to have everything. You?’’

“Me too.’’

“Good. Now, do you think you could try to untie the laces?’’

And Tarja was trying, unfortunately without a great outcome.

“Holy shit, that person really did a great job,’’ Tarja hissed angrily.

“Let me try it,’’ Sharon said with a little smile. “Oh crap, you were right’’

“I guess we're gonna have to walk back like this.’’

“It could be worse.’’ Sharon smiled and Tarja helped her get up. She hugged her tightly.

“We can do this,’’ she whispered in her ear.

They were slowly moving towards the hotel, just a few inches apart, both of them enjoying the closeness.

“See, it's not that bad.’’ Tarja smiled and placed a small peck on her friend's cheek. Sharon pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

After a few minutes, they entered the hotel.

“Is this even the right hotel?’’ Sharon asked, laughing. The receptionist gave them a strange look, but neither of them really cared.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I can remember it,’’ Tarja assured her.

“Can I help you, ladies?’’ the receptionist asked them, looking even more confused.

“No, you can’t. Unless you want to untie our shoelaces of course. Some jerk tied them together.’’

The receptionist rolled her eyes. Tarja pulled her keys out of her pocket and looked at them.

“Room 317. That’s probably the third floor.’’

They got on the elevator and Sharon pressed the button. The door closed.

“Did you see the look on her face? What the heck is wrong with her?’’ They both burst into loud laughter.

“I know, right, has she, like, never seen two people with shoelaces tied together before?’’ Tarja said, laughing again.

She unlocked the door and they both walked in.

“I'm still really tired… How about going straight to the bed?’’ Tarja asked.

“Oh, yes, sounds nice. Wait. I'm not going straight to the bed. Lets go gay to the bed.’’ Sharon said and buried her face in Tarja’s shoulder. She couldn’t believe that she actually said that.

“Yeah, definitely.’’ Tarja jumped on the bed and took Sharon with her. They were both laying on their side, face to face, just looking at each other, admiring each other’s beauty.

“You're so goddamn beautiful,’’ Tarja said after a minute or so of silence.

“Shut up, just look at you, do you ever look in the mirror? Don't you see it?’’

“Oh, honey…’’ Tarja said and leaned in for a kiss. They joined their lips, looking deep in each other’s eyes. After a couple wonderful seconds, Sharon leaned back with a large smile on her face.

“Oh, gay indeed,” she said.

“I love you,” Tarja whispered. “And not just when I'm drunk, I love you all the time, wherever we are.’’

“I love you too,” Sharon confessed quietly.

“Like, in the, you know, gay way?’’ Tarja wanted to be sure. She still couldn't believe how many good things had happened to them in the past few hours.

“Oh, yes, sweetie. In the gayest way possible,” she assured her.

“Oh my god, the guys are gonna freak out when they'll see us as a couple.” Tarja laughed.

“Yeah, totally. We gotta film it when we tell them. I can already imagine their faces,” Sharon agreed.

Tarja giggled and then rested her head on Sharon’s shoulder. Sharon gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and kissed her once more.

After a couple of minutes, they were already asleep.

#sharja #tarja #tarja turunen #Sharon den Adel #fanfiction #sharja fanfiction

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 6 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Lemon continues to cope poorly, Brooke Lynn, Kameron, and Vanessa realize that love triangles are out and triads are in, Nicky surprises Jan with a travel proposal, Jackie gets invested in Jaida’s OnlyFans, and Gigi is dealing with some unwanted attention (TW for mentions of stalking and sexual harassment).

ao3 link

Jan watched as Lemon packed her suitcases. “Maybe we should let the lease expire,” she remarked, hoping that distracting her friend with mundane conversation would keep her from getting upset again. “If you’re gonna stay with Rosé, and I stay at Nicky’s most of the time, it doesn’t make sense to keep paying for this place. And like, you’re always welcome to stay with us too, if you want.”

“No offense, but I don’t really wanna be around your beautiful, blossoming romance any more than I have to be. Also, don’t you think you guys are moving a little fast? I mean, it’s been like… a month. Vanjie’s a nut but even she waited a solid three months before rolling out the u-haul,” Lemon replied, throwing her body onto the suitcase to get it to close.

“You’re not wrong,” she conceded. “But her place is gorgeous, you can’t blame me for wanting to just stay there and get fucked for hours on end.”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. She couldn’t complain because she was the one that brought it up, but hearing how perfect things were for Jan and Nicky made her seethe with envy. “Guess we’ll just have to see if you guys can still stand each other once the honeymoon phase is over.”

Jan frowned. “Okay, I’m not gonna take that personally because I know you’re going through a hard time right now,” she murmured. “Is that everything?”

“Yep,” Lemon mumbled as she got up and dragged her suitcases to the front door. She then stopped and rifled through her purse, pulling out a flask and taking a swig, then offered it out to Jan.

“No thanks, not really up for day drinking today,” she said, then leaned over and sniffed the opening of the flask. “Is that straight vodka?”

She shook her head. “There’s sprite in there too,” she assured.

Again, Jan chose not to argue with her. She knew her friend was hurting and she hoped the worst of it would pass once she got settled in with Rosé. “Let’s get going,” she sighed.

Once Rosé had officially taken Lemon in, Jan’s nerves eased up, but her concern hadn’t. “I think this is the best place for her to be right now. Make sure she doesn’t fall off with her coursework, okay? This is her last semester and I’d hate for this to derail her entirely and–”

“Jan,” Rosé put her hand on her shoulders to try to focus her attention. “Breathe, baby. I love your love for her, but you don’t have to be her mom. I got it from here.”

Jan nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the remaining concerns. “Okay, I’m good,” she told her. “How are you, by the way? Things going well with Denali?”

“Yeah, there’s not much to report,” she shrugged. “We’re just sleeping together, and neither of us has a boyfriend so there’s no downside.”

“You say that now.”

——-

Brooke Lynn sat in an uncomfortable silence of her own creation, her gaze fixed down on her plate. It was so much easier talking to Kameron when Vanessa was sandwiched between them – being alone with her made her feel exposed.

“I’m not trying to take Vanessa from you,” Kameron bluntly broke the silence. “I like her, I like spending time with her – with both of you – but I’m not interested in creating drama.”

She blinked, taking in what she’d said. Had she come off as threatened? Jealous? She supposed it wasn’t the most outlandish thought. “No, no it’s not like that. I trust Vanjie and I trust you. I’m just still kind of new to the world of relationships, let alone serious ones, you know?”

Much to her relief, Kameron nodded in understanding. “Listen, I get it. If you don’t have a lot of dating experience, someone like Vanjie can be… a lot. But I know you guys love each other, though I’m not gonna sit here and claim that I don’t have any feelings for either of you… I can get a little clingy after sex, what can I say?”

Brooke bit her lip and looked down. “I can’t say I expected this, but I’m not complaining,” she told her. “And I know you haven’t told Vanj yet, or I’d have already heard about it.

“I kind of figured you’d be a tougher nut to crack,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I’m not oblivious, I know you weren’t thrilled with the whole open relationship thing at first.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “But I’ve honestly warmed up to it… I’ve warmed up to you, anyway.” She pressed her lips together as she thought. “I think the three of us should talk. Because I don’t think she ever wanted an open relationship, she just wanted you. And I don’t blame her.”

Kameron arched her brow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “So, what, you’re thinking of trying a throuple situation?”

Brooke smiled and shrugged. “I think it’s an option worth considering.”

But to consider it properly, they did need Vanessa. So, once they were all together in their apartment, they opened the floor. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” Vanessa started. “Can’t believe it took us this long to think of it.”

The other two girls laughed. “I think we were expecting that answer,” Brooke told her. “I don’t think any of us are opposed to it, it’s more about working out the details. For example… Do we move Kameron in with us? I feel like it’s a bit awkward to have two-thirds of a throuple living together with the third somewhere else.”

“I’m not about to say no to not having to pay rent,” Kameron laughed lightly. “I rent month to month, so I just have to be out by the end of it,” she explained. “And besides, if I get sick of you guys, I could just crash in the guest room. Which, by the way, is like half of my entire apartment.”

“This feels like a business transaction,” Vanessa remarked, a bit of an annoyed whine in her voice.

“You know what they say, baby,” Brooke hummed, “business before pleasure.”

——

“Would you like to come with me to Paris?” Nicky asked as she laid in bed with Jan. “I’m going over there for a long weekend and I think you could use a little holiday.”

Jan beamed brightly and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What’s the occasion?”

There was a hesitation before her reply that wasn’t lost on Jan. “I try to go and check in on my mother now and then. But I don’t want to trouble you with that, there’s plenty of things to do and–”

“Do you not want me to meet your mom?”

Nicky quickly shook her head. “It isn’t that. It’s just… I have never brought a girl to meet her before. She means well, usually, but she can be… judgmental. I don’t think she ever fully came to terms with having a gay daughter. It is like… she loves me, but not who I am.”

“And her gay daughter bringing home a stripper would give her an aneurism?”

“This isn’t about what you do, Jan,” she insisted, “she’d react all the same if you were a doctor or a lawyer or the fucking president. But I mean, come on, what do your parents think you do for a living?”

Jan frowned and crossed her arms. “They know I’m still trying to find acting work during the day, and they know I work at the club at night… They just think I’m a waitress.”

“You guys do not have waitresses.”

“But they don’t know that!” she pointed out, then quietly followed up with, “I get it, whatever, forget I said anything.”

Nicky sighed and sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you want to meet my mother that badly?”

This time, it was Jan who hesitated as she thought for a moment. “I mean, I don’t wanna make things more difficult or stressful for you…”

She reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “Come with me, we will burn the bridge after we cross it. But I need you to understand that I am not ashamed of you, okay? Not at all.”

Jan smiled softly, picking her head up and resting it on Nicky’s shoulder. Ever since she had started working at the club, she had made a promise to herself to never date anyone that made her question her self-worth. Truth be told, if her parents ever found out about her career, their response wouldn’t be one of anger, it would be pity. They would take her in, give her money, treat her like a poor, lost soul that needed to be put on the right path. And to her, that was so much worse. “I have always wanted to go to Paris.”

——

Having consciously been in the closet since she was sixteen, Jackie was well adept at keeping secrets. But this time, keeping a secret felt so much more difficult, because it involved more than just herself. And as inconsequential as the secret may be in theory, it weighed heavily on her conscience.

She had waited a couple of days before creating an account to subscribe to Jaida’s OnlyFans, lest it look suspicious. But once she was in, she was checking her page almost obsessively. Sure, she had seen Jaida in every state of undress, but this was different, more intimate. It came with the territory, but seeing Jaida’s body in ways she had only fantasized about drove her wild.

Then she decided to get bold.

Maybe it was the extra glass of wine, maybe it was an overwhelming bout of horniness. But something compelled her to send Jaida a private message, happy to pay the five-dollar fee.

NYCdude1985: Hi, do you take requests for personalized videos? How much does it cost?

Jaida: As in you want me to moan your name while I touch myself? Yeah, I do thirty-second clips for $20.

NYCdude1985: Done. My name is Jack. But I go by Jackie, so use that.

NYCdude1985: Please, sorry.

Jaida chuckled softly as she read the messages. Even through the brief exchange, she could sense Jackie’s anxiety, the trepidation she had. She found it endearing and she was proud of her for being brave enough to take that step, even if it was under a rather uncreative screen name.

How had she known it was Jackie? It was a simple oversight on Jackie’s end - she had left her laptop open in her office, where the girls would frequently enter if they needed to refill the snack shelves or replenish the bathrooms. Jaida had merely gone to see if she had any extra zebra cakes when she noticed the tab in the upper-left corner of her browser. Suddenly, snacks were the last thing on her mind.

And she had considered bringing it up to her but realized it would do more harm than good. Instead, she would give Jackie exactly what she wanted. She filmed herself rubbing her clit while she moaned Jackie’s name. She didn’t bother timing it, she decided she was going to give her the whole thing, start to finish. Her gaze fixed on the camera, wanting Jackie to feel like she was looking right at her.

When Jackie watched it, she felt the intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t even touch herself the first time she watched it, so utterly fixated on how Jaida’s body moved, how her name sounded spilling from her lips, how desperately she wanted it to be for real. She had to consciously get herself to get off during her second watch-through, though she was actively imagining being there with Jaida, with her head between her thighs, eliciting those moans herself.

“I have to tell her,” Jackie said to Nicky the next day. The two of them had formed a friendship since Nicky first arrived, Nicky, finding comfort in a fellow French speaker and Jackie appreciating having a confidant. “It’s gonna eat me alive until I do.”

“You should tell her,” Nicky replied as she took a hit off her vape. “You said it yourself, it is the only way you are going to feel any better. Besides, what is the worst thing that could happen?”

Jackie looked at her as if she’d sprouted another head. “I lose a close friend and incredible employee, not to mention the potential ethical ramifications of buying porn from an employee.”

Nicky tilted her head, thinking, before asking, “est ce que tu l'aimes?”

Her eyes went wide and her face went red at the question, at the mere suggestion. “Je ne pense pas pouvoir dire que… l'amour est un mot si fort.”

“Maybe so,” she conceded, “but consider that you could not say ‘no’.”

“I’d rather not,” Jackie chuckled dryly. “Listen, I gotta send some business emails out before the girls start coming in. You should go pack for your little getaway tomorrow.”

Nicky nodded and kissed the top of her head. “I will bring you back a souvenir.”

Jackie wasn’t left alone with her thoughts for long, not a minute after she finished her emails, she looked up to see Gigi walking in and sitting down on one of the chairs. But what caught her attention was their body language – they were looking down, fiddling with their hair, and swinging their legs. “What’s wrong, Geege?”

Gigi sighed and looked up. “Okay, like, this is stupid and whatever, but Crystal thinks I should tell you that I think a client I had a couple of weeks ago is stalking me. I made a composite sketch,” they explained, opening their messenger bag and pulling out a piece of paper. “Do you think if I give this to Kameron, she could make sure he stays out?”

“Gigi,” she said firmly, “that isn’t stupid at all. This is serious. Did he hurt you? What happened?”

They groaned, knowing this would happen despite any attempt to avoid triggering Jackie’s maternal instinct. “He kept asking about the VIP room and I decided I could use the extra cash. So, we were in there and I told him I’d give him a handy and he was like, okay cool. But after he paid for that he kept trying for more and was being really creepy about it, so, I left. He just… really didn’t like that I blew him off instead of blowing him. He found me on Instagram and started harassing me there, kept making fake accounts after I blocked them and he figured out where I go to school.”

Jackie’s eyes widened in horror. “Geege, this isn’t a matter for Kameron, it’s for the police.”

“But I hate the police,” they crossed their arms and whined.

“We all hate the police, but this is a serious safety risk. Kameron can’t follow you everywhere to keep him away. I need to know that he won’t get the opportunity to hurt you.”

Gigi sighed, chewing on their lip. “I don’t wanna give him that power over me, I don’t even wanna waste the time or energy,” they explained. “But fine, just for you though, okay?”

Jackie smiled graciously. “Thanks, kiddo.”

After Jackie had taken Gigi to file the report, she had offered them the night off, but Gigi defiantly insisted on performing, though after one set, they found themself tired, laying on the common room couch.

Jan sat cross-legged on the floor beside them. “You know, gorge, it’s okay to not be okay. That asshole put you through a lot. I had to take off a week after… you know, the incident. We’re in an industry that can attract real creeps, we gotta put our mental health first.”

Gigi shook their head. “Your incident was different, it got physical. The only time this guy touched me was to try to push down on the back of my head.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Denali chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s about boundaries. You made yours clear and he kept crossing them. And you don’t know what this dude is capable of, any of us would be scared in that position. I’ve dealt with a stalker too – he never touched me, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel safe.”

“I just don’t see the point in dwelling on it. Feeling shitty about it isn’t gonna make it go away,” they replied.

Jan frowned, putting her hand on top of Gigi’s and squeezing gently. “It’s not healthy to ignore your feelings either way. It’s better to work through it than let it manifest into some nasty shit.”

“Who gives a fuck about feelings?” The three of them looked over to see Lemon stumbling into the common room, setting a freshly-emptied glass on the counter. “And who gives a fuck about men? All they do is get in the way and think the world revolves around their ugly dicks,” she ranted, a bit of slurring in her voice.

“Speaking of what happens when you ignore your feelings,” Jan muttered under her breath, then turned to face Lemon. “You’re not getting back on the pole tonight, are you?”

Lemon furrowed her brows. “Why wouldn’t I? I still have one more set,” she scoffed. But when she started to walk towards the other dancers, she stumbled, nearly losing her balance on her already precarious six-inch heels.

Denali and Jan exchanged concerned expressions. “I’ll call Rosie to come and get her,” she said before Jan could suggest it, turning on her heel and going to get her phone from her locker.

Gigi, meanwhile, nearly got whiplash from how fast their head moved back and forth from Jan and Denali to Lemon. “You know,” they said to Jan, “maybe I should start working through my feelings. Even therapy seems like a better alternative to…” they gestured to Lemon, “that.”

“As her friend, I feel like I need to intervene, but I think anything short of breaking up Pri and her fiancé is going to be a waste of time,” Jan mused as she watched her sit on the floor and struggle to take her heels off, cursing and whining quietly. “Something tells me things are gonna get worse before they get better.”

“Maybe,” they shrugged. “Lemon’s stubborn and possibly a little unstable… she might need to hit rock

#rpdr fanfiction #taste of poison paradise #joley #lemyanka #brooke x kameron x vanessa #jan x nicky #jackie x jaida #lemon #priyanka #jan sport #nicky doll #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #kameron michaels #jaida essence hall #jackie cox #lesbian au #smut

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mischief-mage · 4 years

Text

Absolutely love the gifts the bird of paradise awarded to the Xiaolin monks. It follows the concept that your greatest strength is your greatest weakness, and it’s all connected to the yin-yang theory of maintaining balance.

When the Xiaolin monks start rejecting their finest qualities, the opposite effects them and those consequences can harm themselves and everyone around them.

Kimiko: courage/cowardice. Kimiko will always be the first to charge into battle and although Clay is seen as the brawn of the group he’s rather reserved in comparison, choosing defence over offence. Kimiko on the other hand is quick to strike an enemy in combat and has no problem giving opponents a verbal lashing too. Kimiko’s cowardice doesn’t necessarily mean being afraid and running away from danger, not physically for her anyway. Kimiko’s problem is established at the very beginning as an internal struggle. She stays on the offence in social interactions like she does in combat, covering her fear and insecurity with anger to keep up appearances. Her cowardice is the inability to be emotionally open with others and communicate her vulnerabilities. Kimiko would rather struggle on her own instead of asking for support, she considers emotional honesty as something negative, thus refusing to admit when things go wrong until it’s too late. The moments where Kimiko can’t deny that things have escalated her fears take over. Kimiko is scared of the results of her own actions the most, from hacking and accidentally giving information away to Hannibal and the incident with Sibini. Kimiko hides the evidence of breaking a Shen gong wu in Clay’s room instead of confronting what she had done. This causes Clay to be possessed and she finally manages to communicate with the group, knowing it will put Clay in danger if she doesn’t. Showing that Kimiko is able to overcome her inner fears if she uses her courage for protecting others.

Omi: loyalty/disloyalty. Loyalty is a quality that Omi admires and aspires to have, viewing it as a noble trait. Being the youngest of the Xiaolin he ends up naive about people’s intentions, and often falls into trickery since he wants to believe everyone is capable of good and loyalty. There’s a limit to this in the moments where he cannot deny deception. Omi will become hostile towards anyone that displays treachery and he finds it hard to forgive with his black and white view on the world. Its Omi’s high standards that cause him to turn on his friends easily and he starts to view people as inferior to him in order to avoid betrayal. He was the last to believe that Raimundo went to the Heylin side and also the last to believe Raimundo is truly Xiaolin again. He still does not forgive Raimundo afterwards, casting doubt that the other Xiaolin monks agree with, Omi convinced everyone to go as far as trusting Jack over Raimundo and falling into a trap in “pandatown.” Omi continues to mock Raimundo for being the last to reach apprentice. He attacks Jermaine out of jealousy, and starts to believe Kimiko is less for being a girl, he lastly feels betrayed by Jack Spicer. Omi tries to rationalise his own disloyalty by believing the other person must not have been worth his loyalty in some way. When Omi returns to Xiaolin side he becomes aware his of actions, less aggressive about perceived betrayals and improves on seeing that everyone has value and for that reason the bird of paradise says his gift is loyalty.

Clay: strength/weakness. The greatest strength for Clay is being able to face an adversity head on and also by how he can think outside the box to take down an enemy or get out of conflict when necessary. Clay unlike the other monks can see an easier way of rescuing the toy dog in training, figured out le mime’s weakness is replicating the others actions and creating a way out of the canyon trap by Chase Young. Strength for Clay is defined as both physical and mental because the bird of paradise saw his strength by avoiding unnecessary conflict. Clay’s weakness is how he’ll behave around others, he has a weak will and can be manipulated by people if they want something out of him. Clay doesn’t know how to act on his inner strength when it comes down to his family who pushes him around and unintentionally the friends he tries to protect. Out of all the monks he’s the most likely to put himself last and prefers to remain quiet and simply follow orders, he is nervous when he gets any of the spotlight put on him. The element Earth represents the steady rock of the group and the monks will expect more from Clay because of his dependability. Sibini possessed Clay without any issue which is different from every other encounter that happens to the rest of the Xiaolin monks when someone attempts to take control of their lives, showing internally he’s weak to spiritual manipulation. The gift of strength is Clay nurturing the ability to trust himself and his own inner resolve to forge new paths.

Raimundo: kindness/cruelty. Raimundo has a lot of compassion and is the empathic one of the group, ranging from saving a village from an active volcano, worrying for Omi when he went missing in the city and rescuing the drowning old woman who was the bird of paradise. Raimundo has good reason to avoid his good trait, his compassion for others often gets him into trouble. Raimundo went against Master Fung’s orders and tried to save the Xiaolin temple from Wuya. Instead of staying hidden with the other monks and he accidentally reveals the hidden location of the SGW. The other time is when Raimundo rescued the village and the Shen gong take control of his body as a result. Raimundo likes to do what he perceives to be the right thing without thinking of the consequences of his actions first. Without kindness though, Raimundo is at his worst, acting selfish and serving his own interests. Raimundo at the beginning was eager to bully the other monks, from making fun of Omi, laughing at Kimiko’s struggles, and picking at Clay’s mannerisms. On the Heylin side, the ways he mocked the monks had gained a malicious intent in hopes of pressuring them to join him. It is only after Raimundo rejoins the Xiaolin that he tries to be better behaved by being reserved around the team, and stops himself from lashing out when Omi is demeaning him and learns to take criticism. Raimundo still has rough edges as he continues to attack the Heylin side with too much bravado in order to look good rather than thinking about the longterm outcome that unnecessary violence creates. In spite of this Raimundo definitely makes vast improvements on knowing the limit and understanding the needs of others.

Jack: honesty/deception. Given from what happens to the Xiaolin monks when they reject their best attributes and how the opposite of their inner strength will inevitably turn against themselves, it’s possible that Jack’s gift would have been along the lines of reliability and honesty. “The bird of paradise” episode makes it clear that Jack got more things right when he would attempt to be truthful. The mystical leaf gives directions when he admits he needs help, and again the monks rescued him when he told them he was captured. Afterwards he quickly reverted back to trickery in order to mask his own feelings. Jack convinces himself that ‘sneakiness’ is the best way to go about things and will ultimately lose in showdowns by using deception as a go to tactic. He does this because he doesn’t believe in achieving victory the moral way, and to disguise his vulnerabilities. Though he’s certainly not ashamed to pretend to be defenceless to get his own way. The Xiaolin monks typically protect Jack and listen to him if he’s honest with them about a situation from the start. Or at least begrudgingly come to Jack’s aid if he confesses about a situation when it’s convenient to save himself from danger. In comparison Good Jack is overall more accomplished and better at problem solving unlike regular Jack, the only noticeable difference between the two of them is honesty. His counterpart Good Jack is ridiculously honest about what he wants and his own feelings, from being happy that Omi came back and commenting on how he will miss being good. Good Jack can figure out a challenge quickly and not draw out the situation by lying to himself and being upfront to those around him.

#xiaolin showdown #Kimiko Tohomiko #omi #Clay Bailey #Raimundo Pedrosa #jack spicer #hope this was a fun read #xs says hey lets throw in the ying-yang dynamics #because obviously it's too easy otherwise #long post #headcanon for jacks gift #cowboy misses that element today

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sunca · 4 years

Note

Hey congrats on starting your writing blog !! Could I request Narancia with 2 and 87 from the yandere prompts? Maybe in like a school setting of sorts? Thank you in advance!! 💕

"𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎"

Yandere Narancia x reader(Yandere Prompts)

2. "Please pay attention to me."

87. "What do I need to make you love me back?"

~~~~~~

Scenario.

Warning : Death, blood, gore, physical violence, curse words, kidnapping, mentioned of stalking, yandere stuff, a bit of lust.

Count : 4030

Thank you. I appreciate it. (•-•)\💖

Sorry for the wait. I've been busy these days but as soon as I finished those stuffs, I went straight down to writing and fixing this.

Please accept this art as my apology. Long hair, fancy Narancia is a must and reader as a small chibi.

Requests still open. Thank you and I hope this brings satisfaction to you.

Sadly, I couldn't post this with read more. ;-; Forgive me.

I almost forgot. Recommended song for this.

Anson Seabra - Stay with me

~~~~~~

Sleepless nights and those stares which hunted you in the darkness. You tried to sleep soundly as much as you could but those nightmares picked you like a marionette and made you dance as they willed. Traces of fingers on your skin offered the ecstasy of waking up. Only to have chills rushing on you. Sweats and tears tainted on the mattress. The warmth of another person, the breeze would steal every night. The welcomed window with a broken lock in your view. An orange wrist band disappearing into the leaves of a nearby tree.

You hid your yawn with your book from your teacher. She shot a glance at you but you just tried to hide between your shoulders. Dark circles lingering around your eyes as you tried to wipe your tears away. You once again looked down at your book to greet with an x and its long lost number. y and z waiting for their soulmates. Numbers running around on your page playground. A discontented sign falling down along with your tense shoulders.

Slender fingers rested on his cheek. His chin stood gracefully on his palm. His captivating purple eyes sojourned on your back. You who couldn't concentrate won't be able to detect his enthusiasm for you. He planned to open his heart for you today. He could only wish it would go well. He can only wish. The echo of the bell rolling into the class directed his attention to turn to his dear friend.

Fugo closed his book and let it rest for a period. His hand reaching for the lemon coloured lunchbox and water bottle. Narancia then get attracted to your magnet but blocked by a girl who stood between you two. Narancia looked up to see her lunch box held tight to her chest. She then build up her courage to ask him to spend his precious time with her. He leaned back. Creating more space between him and her. Showing uninterested body language. A single worded rejection. His feet walking on your yellow path. You getting up to get some space from people, stopped in your tracks when he came into your view.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Nothing to do at lunch. Right? Come join us! You've been busy with that club and activities. I missed you," he whined with puppy eyes. You being your dithering self because of restlessness. "Sure," You replied with a small puff and smile, blinking your fuzzy vision away. His gleaming smile blinding you so easily. "Great! Let me grab my lunch box fast! Wait here!" He gleefully replied and headed back to his seat. A soft smile staplered on his cheeks.

The three of you sitting under the unfixed clouds. A baby tomato rolling under your fork. You listened to the back and front between Fugo and Narancia. This bickering was bringing out more headache for you. Then suddenly, Narancia wrapped his arms around your torso and faked a cry. "(Y/N)! See? Fugo is making fun of me! I just don't understand math and he's calling me 'stupid' again!" You let out a tired sigh and patted his head. "I'm calling you stupid because you are! 33×12 is 36? Oh. What a genius! How many times do I have to teach you that?!" Fugo looked as if a strawberry now. His face all red because of rage.

"Oh, Fugo. By the way, did you heard-," Narancia looked up at you. His hands not retreating back from you but holding more tightly. You were focused on Fugo and letting him know about the new series he caught upon. The two of you would buy the book together or inform each other about the news related to that series. You and Fugo having interest in a same subject once in a while. Narancia was not getting any of it. His eyebrows fusing.

"(Y/N)! I burned my hand the other day!" He put his hand in between you and Fugo's eye contact. You just nodded and patted him again but didn't stop communicating with Fugo. Narancia's hand slowly drafted back to your shoulder. Tears welding on his eyes. His cheeks swelling. He then slowly fell onto your lap. His hands closest to his heart which was aching for you. Both Fugo and you stopped in track. You looked upon a teenage boy in tears, sulking like a baby and resting on your lap.

"Please pay attention to me, (Y/N)."

His voice shaking. You felt bad for not giving him the attention he deserved and run your fingers through his hair gently. Narancia has always been like this whenever you ignored him a bit. You didn't want to speak it out loud but it slipped through. "Aww~ my baby," you wiped his tears away. Narancia started sniffing and sobbing. You picked him up by his shoulder and he sat up. "Don't cry. Don't cry~," Mischief in your sugary voice. "Aww~ There. There," you comforted him with a hug and caressed his head. Fugo scoffed and focused on eating again. Turning his gaze away from the two of you.

After a minute or two, the door to the rooftop swung. A pair of canary preying you in. Burgundy hair combed back neatly. His sharp jaw ready to slice anyone in two. His flawless face shining like silver. Turtleneck white sweater revealing his ravishing physique. Black jeans hugging his slender and long legs. The papers in his grip rustled as the breeze flowed in.

Once he saw you, he stormed up to you. You looked up at Kevin, your club's president. Narancia, on the other hand, didn't want Kevin to come and destroy his paradise, and he knew Kevin would be a bad new for him. As soon as he saw Kevin, Narancia glanced to you. Narancia didn't expect and want this to happen but here you are, looking at a boy other than him.

"Oh, Kev! What brought you here?" You greeted him and drew back your hands. Narancia didn't bother to move from your side. Fugo twisted his neck to look up from his lunch to your target. Fugo repositioned himself since he saw who was it and listened to hear whatever Kevin had to say. "(Y/N), Mrs. Smith said you made some mistakes in the paper sheets for the club. You better get there now and I have things to do," Kevin stood beside Fugo and waited for you.

"I will go there once I finish my lunch," you glared up at Kevin. Narancia was also glaring at Kevin. "She didn't look like she was busy which is unusual," Kevin insisted. Kevin's demand irked you and you rolled your eyes. "Fine," you groaned as you packed your lunch back up. Narancia complained as he clasped your arm. "(Y/N), you don't have to go." Narancia's puppy eyes striking your week spot but you couldn't say no to the class president. "I'm sorry, Narancia but I have to. I will see you back in class when this is over. Ok? No worries," you gave Narancia a reassuring smile and stood up. Narancia's eyes were narrowing at Kevin. Fugo noticed this and observed him carefully. So then, he could step in if Narancia was to burst out.

You headed to the teachers' office and prepared yourself. Kevin was walking on the corridor of the old, abandoned school building. He just needed to grab some stuffs from there. He was on his way until he saw a group of people in a class. He pulled the door open and shouted, "Students are prohibited to come here withou-," he saw an adult looking like a street rat handing a bag wrapped in tape to a student. "YOU! Outsiders are prohibited here too and state your busines -" Before his sentence ended, —wham!— his unconscious body fell onto the dusty floor with a thud.

Narancia tried his best to keep his serenity but something clicked in him. He threw his orange juice and stood up. "That motherf*cker!! $&j#fc;h-e)g£sv%y!!!" He cursed as the bottom of his shoe stamped upon the poor lunchbox. Noodles flat under, the sauce splashed across the concreted floor, the plastic scattered into pieces and his shoe fouled by the mess. Fugo noticed the buzz in his pants pocket and reached for it. Checking the ID, he then picked it up. "Pronto."

"Damn it!" Narancia exclaimed as he rubbed his shoe on the clean surface of the floor. "They're always trying to steal my (Y/N) away. A*sh*les!" Narancia kicked the air and his feet yeeted his shoe. Narancia was too furious to pay attention to Fugo or his talk. He then let out a frustrated sigh and hopped. "Yes. We'll take care of it. Arrivederci," Fugo hung up and shoved the phone back into his pants. He then reversed his direction back to Narancia who was putting on his shoe again.

"Narancia," he calmly called him to see his fumming face almost as if a tomato. "They're making a move now. Gior- Boss want us to take action. Bruno said he will send the info in 5 minutes," Fugo's sentences were short but held engrossing mystery in them. Narancia's face was dark and occupied with a wide grin which would inject a chilling trepidation to everyone sane but Fugo wasn't bothered. The thought of finishing an order perfectly enraptured Fugo as he couldn't wait to spend more time with his beloved who was in a cage. "Go fetch (Y/N) after this," Fugo shot a smirk and encouraged Narancia. The two boys communicating with their eye contact. You who thought Fugo and Narancia were normal teenagers and not knowing anything about their past, didn't even notice the foreboding gift future has in store for you.

When you entered the club room, you couldn't find Kevin anywhere. "MuMu, have you seen Kev anywhere? I need him to check these sheets," you asked a girl who was filling in forms. "Ah! He went to that old building in the west. He said he needed some files from class B," she answered and you smiled at her. "Thank you!" You replied and headed to there. Looking over the papers in your fingers again. "This will be fine. I guess...," you spoke to yourself.

Narancia and Fugo were checking out the rooms at the ground level. They entered the 5th room when you entered the hall. You then zigzagged and stepped on the first step of the stairs. 'Class B. Huh. That would be third floor.' You thought to yourself and rubbed your temple. "Wait. This building has three stairs. Right? What if I miss Kevin? I can't let it happen! I must hand in these today," you talked to yourself and hurried your steps. "Nothing's here too," Fugo looked up to Narancia. He was squatting and checking for footprints or any sign of their target were here or the packs since the info showed they stored some in here. "Let's move on," Narancia replied as he head to the stairs.

You arrived on the third floor and everything was a mess. There were plastic bags, dry leaves and dusts. You looked up to the sign on top of an entrance. It read 'E' and you moved on to get where you wanted to be. When you passed through class D, you heard something. You stopped in track and paid attention to it. It was as if something was being beaten. You backed to the wall and approached the back door of the third room. You sneakily opened the door a bit and peeked in. A strange scent hitting your nostrils.

There was a group of students and some people in normal attire. Smokes surrounding their heads. Cigarettes in between of their fingers. Some were staring down at the centre. You followed their gaze. A fist rose and fell like a tsunami. You couldn't see who was the victim since the desks and some males blocked it. You keeled for a better view and in between legs, you saw a familiar male with burgundy hair. Blood rivering down on his lips and chin. His nose all red. His face swollen.

You questioned why he didn't fight back and you covered your mouth. His fingers bending back in. Blood stained on his white sweater. Two knives attached to his belly. You started to tremble and your breath hitched. You wanted to step in and help Kevin but it would be around 15 against 1. You don't even stand a chance.

You gotta get out of there fast and affirm the teachers. When you raised your head back, the door swung open with a creek. You looked up like a cornered prey under the gaze of a predator. To meet with a pair of eyes staring down at you. A grin sent chills down your spine. You didn't waste any time and sprang for the escape. The shadow behind you chased you down. You were pulled back by a hand wrapping by your waist. "HELP-!" Your mouth covered by a hand.

"Did you hear that?" Narancia glanced at his friend who didn't turn away from his staring towards the ceiling. "Hear what?" Narancia had a confused expression. Fugo then looked at Narancia. "Narancia, call out Aerosmith. They might still be in this building," Fugo commended him. "Okay?" Narancia raised an eyebrow and spread his arms horizontally. "Aerosmith!"

You were struggling against two males. The others were staring or laughing at your inadequate struggles. You kicked, wiggled your body out, punched and did everything you could but nothing seemed to work until you remembered a method. You kicked the male in front of you where the sun don't shine and curved in your spine to smash that nose with the back of your head. The grip around you loosened. Your feet trying to be your life saviour, betrayed by a hand grabbing on one. Your face came in to kiss the floor. A crack rang in your ears and a light flashed before you. You tried to get back up but restrained by a pull.

You rolled around and punched anyone who was in sight. Your hand captured in a grip but you used all of your force and took your hand back. Your other hand reached something and you grabbed it. Panic swung your hand and —Shluk!— crimson liquid spattered. A glass shard deep in the throat of a student. Blood trailing down from his mouth and nose. He choked out and a daub of red landed on your cheek, soon to roll slowly to side. Your eyes went wide. You brought up your hand to wipe the burning sensation on your nose and hide that glup. You were stunned. Your brain tried to reload what you just did but errors delayed it.

Tap, tab, tap, dab, dap, dab, dap, swissh, dab, swissh, dab, dap, zwish, dab, dap, zwish, Dap, zwish, Dab, Dap, zwish, Dab, BAM!

The door swung open, brining you back to reality with a flinch. Your head spun and you saw a ray of hope along with two boys. Narancia's scanning fell upon you as soon as you goggled him. Your nose red. Blood smeared on your philtrum, upper lateral subunit and upper lip. Your obscured tears failed on you. The look in your eyes begged him to save you. Your lips quivering. Your quietened sobs emerging. "What the f*ck!?" A wrongdoer swore out loud and they prepared themselves by picking up some chair, wood stick, spiked bat, and pocket knives.

"Na-Narancia...," You ran towards him but your legs gave out and you crawled. Clinging on his leg. He crouched towards you. Holding your trembling hand in his. Your poor body shaking like a leaf. Tears streaming down on your exquisite cheeks. Your state in this situation and a murmur of your voice turned on the insanity inside him. "Fugo, I will leave (Y/N) to you," Fugo took over his role and supported you to stand up. Narancia's face was hard to read when you glanced at him. Narancia stood tall.

Your back leaned on the dirty wall. Your breath hitching and you hugged onto Fugo tightly. Burying your face in his chest. Snivelling all your emotions out. Screaming were heard in the distance. Fugo patted your back and separated you by your shoulders. "(Y/N)?" He called your name and you looked up at him. "I need you to stay here and not going anywhere. Ok?" he waited for your answer. You nodded while sobbing. He set up a reassuring smile and left you there. You sat there and wiped your tears away. When you glanced at Fugo, you saw him walking into that room.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE S*HT!! YOU SHOULD GO DIE IN A S*HT HOLE, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING B*TCH!!" The dead hooligan lied flat under Narancia's shoe. Narancia's breathes were hitching, and veins were popping out on his forearm and the back of his hand. Blood painted the wall and floor red. The pool under his shoe sticky and thick. They deserved it. No one and by means that, not even a single soul is allowed to hurt his perfection whom he worship daily. Anyone who left a scratch on (Y/N)'s body will be left with a missing limb but made her bleed more than a drop? Haha. Ya gotta be kidding about it.

Fugo stopped him in track. "(Y/N) need you now. Go. I will take care of them," Fugo's hand on his shoulder, giving Narancia a proud smile. Narancia stepped back and cooled himself down. Fugo took out a glass bottle and a handkerchief. He opened the cap and enclosed the lid with the handkerchief. He then turned them upside down. Soon to be back in their position. He handed the handkerchief to Narancia. "Here. Take this just in case." Narancia took it and in a split second, there was a wide, merry grin on his cheeks. He put it in the skirt pocket. "Yea! Thanks, Fugo!" He exclaimed gleefully and ran out of the class with a jolly behaviour. Fugo chuckled at Narancia's usual behaviour and put the covering back on.

Of course. You must be waiting for him all this time. You need him like he needs you. You sinning his thoughts and nights. You who was defenceless. He who was resistless to you or your beguiling body. His hands not wanting to depart from your skin. His lips brushing softly on your throat. He was addicted to you. You who spellbound him, lured him in, ensnared him, planted a seed called possessiveness in him, seized his obsession only to yourself and inveiged him to come swoop your fragile soul from this heartless world. He's your knight in shinning armour after all.

"(Y/N)!" You heard a familiar voice. Your sugary name cloying him more and more. He was drunk upon the bewitching splendour of your beauty. Your voice ripping his stability bit by bit. His body towered you. Trapped you between his torso and the wall. You were in a daze. His tranquil smile avenging your cruel actions towards him. His loving gaze hypnotising the poor prey.

You turned your head to the source. A breeze revealing a dazzling boy to you. "Narancia!" You called your friend's name as you eyed him up. He who bathed in his enemies' blood. You wiped your tears again as you stood up. Observing the boy before you in terror. "I killed them for you~ (Y/N)♡," his voice sickeningly sweet. His usual cute smile inverted into a nightmare with blood staining on it. "Thi-This is wrong. So wrong...," you choked out. His eyebrows raised with disbelief. "What are you talking about, (Y/N)? This is the right thing to do! They hurt you! You are a perfection and I'm your guardian! If anyone try to corrupt you, they are devils and it's my duty to get rid of them! Hehe," he chuckled lightly. As if taking out the fire of life was nothing more than a joke to him.

"Naranci-" you were cut off. "I love you~" The grin not dropping from his face. "W-Wha-What?" You asked again not because you didn't quite catch it but because you didn't get what he meant by that. "I love you♡" An adorable giggle rumbled down his chest. "Wha- N-No! Liste-" you tried to speak again. "No? You don't love me?" The wretched look gushed down your throat like a blazing lava. Guilt's hands tightening around you throat. "No. No. That's not-" Your panic dragged and chucked you down the cliff.

"Then what do I need to do to make you love me back, (Y/N)?"

You stopped. You legitimately stopped. He wasn't trying to hear out what you had to spill. He wasn't even trying. It seemed as if he won't give up or drop that subject. No. He wouldn't and you have had it. You took a sharp breath in. Your legs spun and took a step farther away from him. Your back getting smaller and alarm bells rang loudly in his head. Your direction fixed on the stair. He pulled you back by your wrist and made you face him. His hand sneaking around your waist.

"Let me g-" your lips sealed with his. Your heart jumped like a rabbit and your mind reset itself. If you were just an innocent civilian, he wouldn't do anything to you but remember that time you helped him with that winsome smile? Remember that time when you let him rest on your lap? Remember that time you held him tight in your sleep? You have given him those blushes, those smiles, those giggles, those restless nights with only you in his head, those hushed moans and those vivid dreams. You have stolen his only heart and tried to flee with it. Did you think he was that stupid to let you go after everything he went through for you?

A white silk between the two teenagers sparkled under the orangy ray. The sun slowly dying on the horizon, letting his lover breathe and shine in the darkness with her small sparkling fairies. Your breathing uneven. Unable to leave his dusky purple soul. He fed upon your candy as his right hand flew up to cup your cheek. His thumb swinging left and right. Your cheek dough under his fingers. Your life like a droplet of rain in his palm.

His touches varied into needy ones. His desire asking for more as his lips once again sucked the life out of you. His tongue burrowing into you. Your hands constraining him away from you. Your head trying to break away from his grasp. Your brain sending red flags in your view. Your anxiety lining tears on your lower eyelashes. Your lung shrieking for the oxygen you needed. Him devouring on your sobs.

Your leg swung back to aim whichever part of his leg you can reach. —Wham!— he groaned and reached for his luckless shin. You didn't waste any time and hurtled wherever you can but far from this pitiful boy. Your legs wanting to give out under you but your brain forcing them not to. Your heart ringing in your ears. The stairs blurred in your vision.

You set your foot upon the second floor and aimed to make a U turn to descend more. Coincided with a yelp, your flimsy body was tugged back by a hand wrapping around your chest. Your nose and mouth were covered by a hand, linked with a cloth. Due to the intense exercise you had, you respired a small amount of chemical with a gasp. The sharp smell made you press harder into his chest, gratifying him more.

Your fists hitting his hands, pulling them away. Your body twisting in order to be freed. Your tears messy on your cheeks. Your limbs faltered. Your muscles relaxed. Your soul doors pulling the curtains. Your head rested on his shoulder. Your consciousness fell into the dark abyss. Pulling you along with it. A word echoed in the void.

"𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮."

#jjba #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo vento aureo #jojo golden wind #jojo #jojo fanart #jojo part 5 #jojo narancia #jojo fugo #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere narancia x reader #yandere prompts

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thefinalcinderella · 4 years

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 2 - The Mountains of Hakone are the Steepest in the World (Part 1)

I’m back for real this time! I’m aiming to finish this novel during the summer, hopefully that will happen.

Also I made a Ko-fi

Full list of translations here

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Kakeru jogged ten kilometers each morning and night. It was a habit of his since high school.

At the time of the summer tournament in his second year of high school, when his body was readied and he was doing the most training runs, Kakeru had forged a record of thirteen minutes and fifty-four-point-three-two seconds in the five-thousand-meter race. This wasn't just astounding for a mere high school student, but also a plenty popular number for Japan's track athletes, and various universities got in touch with Kakeru. Moreover, since he was still in his growth period, everyone wanted him as a promising athlete who could leave good results. That was until Kakeru, who had committed an act of violence, quitted his high school track and field team.

Kakeru had no lingering regrets or attachments whatsoever to running while carrying his school's name on his back, much less leaving records on the world's grand stage. It was more enthralling to run freely while feeling your whole body cutting through the wind and moving forward. He got bound hand and foot by the expectations and ambitions of an organization, and was tired of being managed like an experimental body everyday.

On the day he set the five-thousand-meter record, he felt ill in his stomach. Because it was a battle that included health management, there was no use making excuses about this and that later. However, for the sensation Kakeru was feeling, it was that he felt that he could still run faster. His record could be reliably reduced to less than thirteen minutes and forty seconds for the five-thousand meter run.

Even after he quit the team, Kakeru continued to train on his own. He wanted to finally reach the world of speed that still hadn't been witnessed yet. The flowing view. The sound of the wind that slipped through his ears. At the moment he ran five-thousand meters in thirteen minutes and forty seconds, how would his surroundings be reflected in his own eyes, and how much blood would his body let boil? No matter what it took, he wanted to experience that unknown world.

Wearing on his left wrist a watch that was crammed with the function to record time, Kakeru silently ran. Even without a coach to instruct him, even without teammates to compete together with, Kakeru had no doubts or hesitations. The wind that touched his skin taught him. His own heart was shouting, you can still run. Even faster.

Several days have passed since he had come to live in Chikusei-sou, and he was just about able to get the hang of the faces and names of the residents. Whether or not that brought calm to his heart, his legs fluidly kicked at the ground during that morning's jogging.

There still wasn't a lot of people on the one-way street that was lush with greenery. Occasionally, he would pass old people walking their dogs and salarymen heading towards the bus stop in the early morning. As Kakeru hung his head down slightly and stared at the white line, before long he was following the jogging course his body was beginning to get used to.

Chikusei-sou was located in a snug and traditional residential area located between the Keio and Odakyu lines. For large buildings, there was pretty much only the Kansei University school building. For the closest station, there was Chitose-Karasuyama for the Keio Line, and Soshigaya-Okura or Seijogakuen-Mae for the Odakyu Line, but it was somewhat far to any station. Since it took twenty minutes or more to walk, there were many who took the bus or rode their bikes to the station.

Of course, Kakeru did not use vehicles even to go to the station. Running was faster, and it became training. Thanks to being asked by Kiyose to buy groceries from the nearby shopping district, as well as running alongside the twins who pedalled a tandem granny bike to go and take a look at the bookstore in Seijo, he became more knowledgeable about the surrounding geography.

Kakeru decided on several jogging routes. They were generally narrow roads with not a lot of traffic and where groves and fields remained. There weren't a lot of chances for him to enjoy the scenery as he ran at tournaments, but during normal jogging and practice, he occasionally idly looked around.

A tricycle placed on the edge of the eaves of a house and a fertilizer sack that fell over in a corner of a field. Kakeru liked observing those sorts of things. On rainy days, the tricycle would be taken beneath the eaves. The contents of the fertilizer sack would gradually decrease and be changed to a new sack before long.

Every time he discovered remnants of the presence of people, he felt ticklish. The owners didn't know Kakeru ran this path morning and evening and had the tricycle and fertilizer sack weigh on his mind. Without knowing that, they spent their days moving and using those things. Thinking that, he felt somewhat delighted. It felt like he was secretly peeking into a peaceful paradise inside a box.

When he checked his watch, he saw that it was six-thirty. He would be going back to Aotake to eat breakfast soon.

As he was passing by a small park, Kakeru was drawn to something he saw in the corner of his eye. Running in place, he stretched his neck and looked into the park. Kiyose was sitting by himself on a park bench.

Stepping on the sand lightly scattered on the ground, Kakeru entered the park. Kiyose still had his head hanging down. Kakeru stopped near the horizontal bars and examined him.

Kiyose was dressed in a t-shirt and worn navy blue jersey pants. It seemed that he was in the middle of walking Nira, as there was a red dog lead placed on the bench. Kiyose rolled up the right leg of his pants and massaged his calf. Kakeru saw a scar that looked like something from a surgery extending from his knee to his shin.

Kiyose still hadn't noticed him, but Nira, who was playing in the breaks in the shrubbery, dashed to Kakeru's feet. There was a disposable shopping bag with droppings tied to his neck. Nira sniffed at Kakeru's shoes with his wet nose, and then perhaps finally convinced, wagged his tail vigorously.

Kakeru stooped, and stroked him so that he was enveloping Nira's face with both hands. It seemed that Nira was unable to control his excitement at seeing a familiar face outside, as he let out a wild breath that was close to a dry cough, like an old person with dried candy stuck to their throat.

At that sound, Kiyose finally looked up. He awkwardly lowered his pants leg. Kakeru called out "Good morning!" to him in a purposely bright voice and sat down next to him.

"Do you also walk Nira, Haiji-san?"

"I also run everyday, so this is just me taking the opportunity to do it. This is the first time we bumped into each other."

"I was getting tired of it, so I'm changing my route little by little."

Kakeru felt that he was aiming at shortening the distance between himself and the other person. It was like he was casting ultrasonic waves into the sea and trying to search for the outlines of fish with the reflections.

"…Are you running for your health?"

As soon as he said that, Kakeru secretly clicked his tongue. This was like intending to release ultrasonic waves but firing a torpedo instead. The fish might get scared and hide themselves in the deep sea. They kept their secrets in their bellies, let shine their dorsal fins and dived deep. Feeling impatient, Kakeru was the only one in a hurry. He was utterly sick of his personality of only able to directly say what was on his mind.

However, Kiyose didn't seem angry, only wearing a smile of bewilderment that bordered on resignation. Kakeru, who realized that he couldn't do strategy or tasteful leading questions, silently waited for Kiyose's move. Kiyose gently touched his right knee from on top of his pants.

"For me, running isn't for my health, nor is it my hobby." Kiyose stated plainly. "I think it's probably the same for you, Kakeru."

Kakeru nodded. If he was asked "So what reason is it?", he would be at a loss to answer. However, he wondered why he couldn't write "jogging" in the hobbies section of a resume submitted to part-time jobs no matter what, for example.

"I got injured in high school."

Kiyose took his hand off his knee and called Nira over with a light whistle. Nira, who had been walking carefreely around the park, immediately went to his side. Kiyose bent down and attached the dog lead to his red collar.

"But it's almost completely healed now. Now I know that my perception and speed are returning, and running is fun."

From the time he saw the scar, Kakeru somehow or other understood. Kiyose, like himself, was someone who was seriously pursuing running. Him desperately chasing him on his bike the night they first met was because he was deeply interested in his running.

Nira, with the dog lead attached, incessantly pulled on Kiyose to tell him to start walking now. While stopping that, Kiyose asked Kakeru, "What about you, are you coming back now too?" Kakeru leaned on the back of the bench and opened his mouth after hesitating for a while.

"Did you introduce Chikusei-sou to me because you saw that I also did track and field?"

"I chased you because your way of running was incredibly good." Kiyose said. "But, I took you to Chikusei-sou because I thought you were running so freely. Someone like a shoplifter was running so happily that it sent something like that flying. I really dug that."

"Why don't we go back now?"

Kakeru stood from the bench. Kiyose's answer did not hurt him.

The morning atmosphere, which was coming alive in earnest, was surging into the deserted park. The horns of the cars driving on the main street. The sound of a mailbox being opened and closed from a house somewhere to get the newspaper. The presence of people briskly heading to work and school.

If he took them into his lungs all together, the blood with increased freshness would circulate all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Kakeru left the park with Kiyose, and then they began running again back to Chikusei-sou. It was something Nira also understood well, and he steadily ran ahead. The sound of Nira's claws repeatedly scratching at the asphalt implicitly became an indicator of the speed of the two. For Kakeru, it was a pace that was markedly slower than his usual. However, he didn't mind that even a little bit. Kiyose, running beside him while holding Nira's leash, certainly seemed like he had a thorough understanding of how to carry his own body. It was a run that could only be realized from running every single time and continuing to put in the effort diligently.

"Hey, Haiji-san," While running, Kakeru asked something that he was curious about. "Why did you make Nira carry the bag?"

"It's annoying to hold it."

Kiyose answered as though it was nothing. There was never any hesitation in his words.

Even so, Kakeru thought, sympathizing with Nira. Even though he's an animal who possesses a much more excellent sense of smell than humans, to have his own waste products dangling before his nose, isn't that pretty painful for Nira?

Taking little notice of Kakeru's worries, Nira continued to run smoothly. His coiled brown tail was shaking over his behind, as though keeping a rhythm.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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its all you know

Run to Paradise & Charlotte Lee 'verse

Summary: Sometimes Nikki wonders what it would be like if their respective youths hadn't been a living hell.

A/N: @misscharlottelee said she missed my lola content and i was thinking abt a hs au for the pacl (which i still might write, i have genuine ideas for a legit hs au) so i wrote this on my phone on a whim. ft. mentions of Charlotte and Nikki and Lola's lowkey possibly joking possibly not crush on her (and TW for brief mention of suicidal ideation)

Nikki looks at Lola sometimes and wonders about how things would be if life had been kind. If her dad had been around, and her mom wasn't a bitch, and her whole life hadn't gone to shit, would she still be in his arms, telling him she loves him by telling she loves his songs, with that sincerity in her voice, in her eyes, that melts his heart's defenses without her even meaning to.

What if life had been kind to him, if his dad had stuck around, if his mom wasn't a raging cunt with a string of asshole boyfriends, that couldn't give a shit about Nikki. Would he still be here in this golden Thursday afternoon, tracing patterns on Lola's scarred back, telling her that she's beautiful with his lips against her shoulder when he can't look her in the eye for fear of her seeing his honesty.

What if they'd grown up together, white picket fences side by side, normal kids with normal lives; Nikki still plays music, there's no reality he can see himself in without it.

"Dad would have loved you," he remembers Lola once saying. She'd thought the world of him, sometimes Nikki would have liked to have met him. If he'd been around, Lola would be different, and probably more well adjusted. In this fantasy Nikki's created for himself, a childhood not stolen, her dad probably comes to Nikki's gigs; he would have liked their style, after all, if what Lola says is anything to go by.

Sometimes Nikki envies Tommy and Charlotte, who didn't have to grow up too fast, who went to prom, and on cute dates, and who got to have reasonably normal lives. Sometimes, in this fantasy world he's creating for himself, this youth that he was never allowed to have, he brings them all together, pieces out a life from the stories Charlotte and Tommy and Vince have reminisced about. He wonders about prom, about laughing at Vince in a white suit, who agreed to go with Charlotte when her first choice turned her down, and he thinks about Charlotte and Lola getting ready together, laughing and talking and smiling, still able to smile without reservation or hesitation.

In this idealised world, he thinks he might even work at Lola's dad's takeout shop; the old man takes a liking to him for his music after all. Tommy would complain that he's still unemployed, but somehow, even in this fantasy, Nikki's looking for excuses to stay out of his house. Old habits die hard.

And this Lola would be sweet, would still have a dad to idolise and teach her right from wrong, lead her on a better path than any she was destined for the moment he'd passed. But she's still Lola, a bit rough and tumble, a little bit rock and roll, but she doesn't feel the constant need to prove herself. She'd laugh at Nikki's jokes and call him an old fucker who likes dad music, but she'd be his favorite person to work with, because she'd always be the first to hype up his new music.

Nikki claims to be too cool for prom, but ends up driving the rest of the gang, and Lola stays by his side the whole night, and shares the flask of vodka she'd borrowed from her dad. He won't be too mad; he could never be mad at Lola. She rides shotgun on the way back and Nikki's got his hand on her thigh and doesn't move it, even when Charlotte, Tommy, and Vince notice and loudly tease them. He kisses her before she leaves, and it actually would give him butterflies.

But they wouldn't be the same people.

The world is unkind, even to those who don't deserve it, and if they had met bacm in high school, Lola wouldn't have looked him in the eyes, a frightened and downtrodden mouse of a girl. Nikki knows he'd only be interested in corrupting her, not caring what consequences it would wreak on her life when he got bored and tossed her aside.

"What do you think would have happened if we'd met in high school?" Nikki asks softly, and Lola shifts a little in bed in order to look at him.

"You probably would have terrified me," she tells him with a sharp smile, on her side, one arm reaching across his belly to pull herself a little closer to him, "mom wouldn't have let me think of you, let alone talk to you, and between supressing the urge to kill myself and piano lessons, I didn't exactly have a lot of time for new friends." And though her tone is light, Nikki's expression still crumples, sympathetic to her struggles, given his own rocky high school years. But Lola makes a considering noise, which brings him back to the present.

"Actually, I'm not sure," she admits, "technically we did meet in high school, at least for me." Nikki often forgets that she'd never even properly graduated middle school. "Why?" She asks, interested in his train of thought.

"Vince took Charlotte to prom once," Nikki says with a hint of a smile, and Lola pressed her laughter into his chest.

"Yeah I heard about that."

"I'm just thinking about what it would have been like if we had been normal too; what if we got to grow up together, all of us, with that whole happy families, white picket fence shit?"

"Do you think we would have slow danced?" Lola teases, poking him in the ribs, and Nikki snorts.

"I think we would have gotten drunk together -"

"Would we be a whole cliche? Take my virginity in the back seat of your beat up old car on prom night?" But she's grinning, her adoring little smile pressed soft against his skin as she looks up at him, falling more in love with him as she falls in love with the fantasy.

"But we wouldn't really talk about it, except that I'd come to your house in the week and throw rocks at your window until you snuck me in," Nikki leaned in and pressed a kiss to her hair. Lola sighs, tucks herself against him, warm and content in the moment.

"You'd be my backup date, by the way," Nikki teases, to which Lola made an indignant noise in the back of her throat, and Nikki elaborates on the verge of laughter, "I definitely would have asked Charlie, but she thought I was kind of gross and an asshole."

"You are gross and an asshole, not just kind of," Lola smirks, but continues with surprising sweetness before he can respond properly, "that's why I love you."

"How would we even know each other in this timeline? I don't know about you, but if my life had gone differently, there's no way I'd still be the same person," Lola asks, brow burrowing.

"Oh, we both work in your dad's restaurant," he tells her, like its the most obvious thing in the world, and Lola's whole being softens to something warm and fond at the mere mention of her dad.

"He really would have loved you," she confirms his suspicions with a soft chuckle.

"I don't think we'd be here," Nikki gestures to their bed, their surrounds, their life, "but we'd end up together. Somehow. In all my realities, I see you in the end," he admits.

"You've been blinded by love, you sap," but Lola's blushing, and Nikki can't help it as he pushes kt further, enjoying Lola's rare sweet and flustered state.

"Maybe I juat don't want to see a reality without you."

Lola's actually gone speechless, her fond smile and pink cheeks hidden where she's pressed her whole face against his chest. Nikki holds her just a little tighter, wearing his smuggest little smirk.

"Okay but what if Razz was in this little fantasy of yours?" Lola finally surfaces, resting her chin on his chest.

"I would make fun of his accent constantly," Nikki answers with probably too much certainty, "I am and I was an asshole," he reminds her, not that Lola's trying to correct him.

"Even if he was dating Charlie?"

"Especially if he was dating Charlie; you've seen her high school photos, Charlie was just as much of a bombshell back then. See she and Vince make sense going to prom together, both of them being hot as all hell, but that weird little English fucker landing Charlie while we're all in high school? I'm not even sure how he managed it as an adult." Nikki snorts, and Lola punches his chest and calls him an asshole.

"You're so mean to them sometimes," but she's smiling even as she rolls her eyes, "Razz is cute, you're just jealous."

"And you're not?"

"Every day, dude, obviously, but she's my friend and I told her I'd get you to be a little nicer."

"You can try," he says with his most shiteating grin before silence falls between them.

"Where would we end up, if not here?" Lola asks, so quiet her voice is barely a whisper, the hypothetical playing in her head on repeat.

"We'd be different people," Nikki muses quietly.

"Sounds like everyone around us would be different too, stable and shit, happy families."

"We'd probably end up just like them," Nikki says with a laugh that sounds a little hollow at the very thought, "you'd be a PTA mom and running your dad's shop, and I'd be teaching music, and we'd have Sunday brunch with the Lees."

"Not the Dingeys?"

"Charlie and Razz would move back to England."

Lola hums thoughtfully at the mental image, but something about the stale serenity of it all has Nikki's stomach turning at the thought.

"Is it bad that I'm glad we're in the reality where everything went wrong?" She asks softly. Nikki swallows hard, and in this moment, knows clearly, and with absolute certainty, that he is in love with her. She gets him, without even realizing, she understands him so completely.

"There's no reality I'd rather be in," he agrees.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx imagine #charlotte & lola #the angry lizard writes #the dirt #motley crue

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thedarkreichenbach · 4 years

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DARK : What did we missed, What Ifs and How it should've ended

S3 gave us everything, an ending to a beginning of the greatest time travel show to ever exist. While most of us were overjoyed with the climax, I personally thought it could've been better and here's how.

Human Triquetra Origin

Agnes should've been the daughter of Magnus and Franziska, thereby explaining her surname being Nielsen and closing the family branch with her instead of the couple being childless. It really did not contributed to the plot by her being Noah's sister.

This way it would've manifested as a human triquetra origin, the strongest symbolism ever - with Unknown, Agnes and Noah being the core progenitors of the family tree in Winden.

There should've been more backstory on these 3, especially Agnes and Unknown, how they met, their childhood, how did they became what they're now as adults. The creators did not do justice on the Unknowns after hyping up their characters so much. IMO the Adult Unknown should've been introduced way before in S2 maybe while having a philosophical conversation with Jonas or Martha or any of his relatives, in between his travels all while keeping his identity secret, which would've probably been a better pay off in the S3 opening scene, where he's accompanied by his young and old versions.

How did he turned out so dark like a psychopath ever since his childhood, how did he learnt how to kill, the knowledge of time travel and his opinions on Adam and rest of his family members, how his time travelling experiences made their way to his infamous personal Triquetra Diary, all these aspects seemed crucial to the plot besides him acting as a henchman to merely manipulate events by time travelling and following his predestined path.

The HOWs

The creators avoided the 'How' by always implying the question was 'When'. How did the time travel worked actually? What were the mechanisms of each of the time travelling devices, how do they differ, how does a person actually operates the devices to time travel to a specific time? I cannot fathom how and why did they left out such interesting concepts to explore and instead gave us random characters repeatedly telling each other about some apocalypse or drop of an ocean.

The splits in timelines

Every time during the final cycle due to the quantum entanglement, the timelines split. However, we are not shown if they converge. If they don't, we are not shown what happened to the timelines when Jonas and alt Martha die. Cause in one timeline/reality, Adam gets to kill young alt Martha in his world, and Eva gets to kill Jonas in her world via alt Martha 2 but in the other timeline/reality, maybe none of these things occur.

Predetermined path, Causality and Effect

Stranger Jonas knew that Adam existed in 1921 alongwith a fully operational Giant God Particle with electric Tesla control yet he only choose to follow (alt) Martha's letter given by Noah. If only Stranger Jonas had noted down what his previous iteration went through, he could've taken things into his own hands for once. Things would surely had been different in Adam's world had all versions of Jonas worked together, like alt Martha and The Unknowns in Eva's world.

If Adam had not cheated or manipulated his younger self into false pretences, young Jonas could've been on a different journey and might have formed a new quantum entanglement cycle from 2052 itself by travelling to 1921 and changing things.

The entire show runs on a really dark premise that even if humans were given choices to their decisions, they will still choose the exact same option infinite number of times, no matter what and thereby, turning free will into a mere illusion.

What Ifs

What if Unknown, Agnes and Noah had more than one child in their lifetime. Yeah obviously it would complicate the story further, but hey why not?

What if someone, preferably from Adam's world, maybe Noah, tried to kill the Unknowns at some point? Noah wanted answers and who could have it better than the Unknown. Most probably Noah would've ended up dying in this scenario.

What if Jonas did not choose to go to 2019 to prevent Michael's suicide? Maybe Michael would've still been alive.

What if Jonas had a child with his Martha? The Unknown would definitely be uncompromising and uncomfortable with a sibling.

What if the Unknowns had followed Jonas and alt Martha into the Origin World? It would've been thrilling to know how this would've turned out.

What if young Ulrich goes missing instead of Mads in Eva's world? I wonder how the change in genes, story and plotline could've worked out.

What if instead of Jonas dying in Eva's world, it's alt Martha who dies in front of Jonas? This would've played out pretty dark IMO with this Jonas having witnessed the deaths of both the Marthas. And having knowledge of the family tree from Eva's room, he sets out on his own journey to slaughter everyone who he believes is the cause of death of both Marthas making it the darkest timeline and quantum entanglement.

What if most of the incest driven family branch were to be non-incestuous?

What if instead of killing, people were imprisoned or seemingly sent somewhere out of the loop?

What if there was more than 1 ending to the show?

How It Should've Ended?

Baran and Jantje did a phenomenal job pulling this off with such grace, but maybe just maybe we could've gotten more than one ending.

Ending 1 : the original, won't wanna change that. It gave off an ever reflecting moral that living and dying infinitely in eternal time loops is damnation and the only way out of that is ceasing to exist, in death.

Ending 2 : After knowing about the Origin World via Claudia, Adam actually takes the entire Sic Mundus and maybe even all members of Erit Lux there to finally settle down and calling it a truce while playing with time.

This way Adam and Eva would've finally got to settle down with their son, Unknown with his little family of Agnes and Tronte, and Noah and Elizabeth would have got to see their Paradise. Everyone finally got out of the time loops and could choose to live their lives freely at last.

Ending 3 : Introducing the God Particle in the Origin World, maybe giving it to H. G. Tannhaus. This would've been a rather chaotic ending as compared to the previous peaceful one.

Tannhaus probably would have used it for good purposes though and could've researched it so thoroughly that he was able to make the process and formula to create the God Particles in a not so destructive way that requires the coherence of 2 alternate world's power plant disasters.

Maybe it would've given rise to new time loops and quantum entanglements, with respect to the other 2 worlds and this would've been proved to be a complex quantum puzzle to solve.

Ending 4 : Tannhaus actually operated his Quantum machine more times than we know, and has in fact created more than 2 worlds by multiple splits. Totally mind boggling.

Ending 5 : So far we know that based on intelligence levels,

Noah<Adam<Eva~Unknown<Claudia

But what if the Unknowns finally strayed a little from their obedience to Eva and started working with Noah, Tannhaus or Claudia OR maybe even with Tannhaus and Claudia from the Origin World. This way the Unknowns would've diverted from their predetermined path and started to think by themselves.

This would've been fun to follow as it would've put them directly in a sort of Mexican standoff with his parents. At this point, a sensible fanfiction about the Unknown wouldn't hurt.

Ending 6 : Exploring far future, maybe the farthest ever possible. We know the world doesn't completely ends after the 2020 apocalypse, not atleast Jonas's world and like a Futurama scenario, Jonas time travels to far future to find out answers and he finds a new descendant. Bonkers right?

Feel free to jot down your thoughts and theories or any other details I might've missed here.

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lifecftheparty · 4 years

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━ ☾ ✧･ﾟ “ he was full of light, in whom is no darkness at all”

ʻ / let me introduce you to a prized member of our environmental club , FAZIL IMANI . this CISMALE CANCER has been a student at our institution for 4 MONTHS and is currently a 21 year old JUNIOR. through the halls , he/him has/have always reminded me of aria shahghasemi , but there is always more than meets the eye , like the fact that he sells his dad’s pharmaceuticals to fund his own drug addiction . coral cape has made their future just as bright as their smile , i assure you . ʼ ( muse 15 , aubrie , 19, pst, she/her )

↪ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝕗𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕝 𝕟𝕒𝕫𝕖𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕚

BASICS:

nicknames: fazi

pronouns: he/him

age & dob: july 14, 1998 ( 21 )

origin: carnegie hill, new york

nationality: american

ethnicity: iranian

fluent in: english, persian & a bit of arabic

occupation: drug dealer freelance artist

height: 5′11

sexual orientation: ???

major: biology & art

clubs: environmental club

↪ *:✧ background

trigger warning ! drugs, drug abuse, car accident, death

IMANI PHARMACEUTICALS ━ a name you MIGHT recognize from the side of your zoloft bottle. from benzodiazepines to amphetamines, they specialized in at all -- A GREAT EMPIRE, built off of other’s sorrows and fazil was happily perched next to the throne. a family portrait, four heads adorning a thin-lipped line -- not a smile in sight. and just by glance, you could tell the family meant business. a serious group, all doctors, all their own achievements; a glistening image of PERFECTION, if not for the taint they liked to call FAZIL.

he didn’t mean to be a fuck-up, but alas, his body was completed with error and corrupted by bad decisions. THE FIRST BEING ━ his art. an adorable skill, at first. though, like a flower, it started to blossom into more than a childish hobby, and that was when they tried to uproot it from the ground. oh, how his family DESPISED his art ; oh, how fazil despised his FAMILY -- it was a mutual passage of hate. really, painting was the only thing he had ever felt ambition for, otherwise a foreign feeling to the sullied son. he could care less about doctorate programs, but it was the path he was set on since birth -- a forced burden he could NEVER get rid of.

he lived to reject everything his family represented; the happy-go-lucky, irresponsible, reckless boy mirrored the solemn and dignified imani clan. taking to extremes to separate himself from those around him, he dived head first into the deep end. he began to get involved with drugs -- and lots of them. cocaine, xanax, morphine, you name it ━ all were party favors in the new york night life, those in which he was more than eager to dabble in. the feelings of euphoria that would shine down on him where storm clouds once reigned, the wide smile that would stretch across his face, and the body, that almost felt weightless. the highs they produced were those of which he could not experience on his own, and like a foolish wanderer, he followed them down a rabbit hole -- their effects so tantalizing even fazil could not resist. OF COURSE ━ he could stop if he wanted, but what happens when the bleary-eyed teen refuses himself paradise? shivers, aches, pain so sickening it would spew from his mouth. no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t stay away. it held him in a choke-hold, ever-so slowly draining his life.

the result of making an already irresponsible boy forget the bounds of consequence? a totaled ferrari and a DEATH-- no, no, no, fazil wasn’t prepared for that. an unforeseen causality in the war with his family. god -- his family, how ENRAGED they were, his father noting that he had wished it was fazil that was the one lying lifeless on the ground. a plan had to be put into place, NOTHING could ruin this family’s image; not fazil, and definitely not a murder. a cover up was devised, could you be surprised? the imani’s were saturated with money, and with money, bought ignorance. and to save face, he was booted out to live with his brother in maine, and made to attend CAPE CORAL. nasty habits die hard though, and fazil’s fought back, refusing to lie dormant. no way could he be sober now, but how do you maintain your ever-growing addiction? WELL ━ it’s crazy what a last name and a forged signature can get you.

↪ *:✧ personality

on the outside fazil presents himself to be this happy-go-lucky, fun-loving guy. which, to an extent, he is. however especially since the accident he festers a LOT of shame, embarrassment, and remorse. he is so full of regret and it really does haunt him on how things went down.

as said, he has a lot of shame. not only for the accident, but also his addiction and how bad it is. he would absolutely hate anyone finding out about either of those, and would probably get really aggro with whoever did. especially if said person tried to take his drugs away or something of that nature?? would not be a happy camper.

speaking of, he cannot go without his drugs, and will literally do anything to obtain a high.

while he tries to reject his family, it does hurt him that he cannot appease them, insecure about the fact he really doesn’t live up to the family name.

on a happier note -- loves, loves, LOVES painting. really is one of the only positive things in his life, will gush on about it for days. if he shows you his art, he’d lowkey be so anxious for approval ( though he wouldn’t admit it ).

plant dad™ loves plants and the earth. if he sees you liter he WILL pummel you.

total flirt, has commitment issues and doesn’t realize it. kind of a fuck-boy but isn’t so brazen about...which is kind of worse?

in general, he’s a pretty laid back guy, doesn’t care too much about status. but really what you see is what you get, he will not let anyone past the front he puts on!

↪ *:✧ wanted connections

i want to say, first off, i am REALLY up for anything. pls feel free to throw any ideas my way i am sure we can work something out <3

best friend !! : someone that he just connects with more than everyone!! while he wouldn’t disclose much about his past, he’d probably let them in on more than he does with everyone else. and i mean lets be honest...there will be a point they find something out. imagine the angst....

someone he fools around with : i mean...im sorry he really is a fuckboy. he doesn’t mean to be though!! i think it’d be interesting to have someone he has a strong flirtationship with or something a little more ifyaknowwhatimsayin. i think it’d be cool for it eventually reach an unrequited love type of thing..whether that’s on his part or your muse. unless you just wanna keep it like they both kinda know what it is..and they’re both okay with leaving it like that. really up for whatever!

frenemies : yOU ALREADY KNOW!! the banter!!! the bickering!!! the annoying the hell out of each other!!! I WANT IT ALL

deep romantic connection : aka someone that really makes him tap into his feelings/emotions. really tests him as a person, and forces him to just really care?? this would be a slow burn thing but again....imagine the angst....

someone who knows/finds out about his secrets : this can tie into plots and doesn’t have to be just it’s own standalone ( if that makes sense ). but i think i’d really like someone just eventually figuring it out and kinda being like fazi ??? what are you doing ?? now this can come at an angle of concern OR maybe your character finds out somehow and hangs it over his head. I would also like to note that fazi came into the school randomly, showed up in the middle of the school year like nothing, and when asked about it he has a bullshit excuse. so mayhaps someone tries to really look into it and pesters him about it. and it makes him turn into the panic emoji

customer : someone he sells drugs to, which btw! would only be over the counter meds his father makes !! the harder drugs he buys himself for his own collection

anyhoot, that’s all i could think of rn but i’m sure i’ll add more in the future! and like i said, i am open to ANYTHING. please please hmu <3

#this was way too long i am sorry ;-;#about.#capecoral:intro #drug tw #drug abuse tw #death tw

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missholson · 4 years

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SHIP HISTORY MEME

Embrace your past and get to know your friends’ fandom origins!

Rules: Post gifs of your fandoms / ships starting with your most current hyperfixation and work backwards. (Bonus points if you share any stories about how or when you got into that ship! But not necessary!!) Then tag anyone whose fandom history you’d like to learn about!

Tagged by the sweet @unwillingadventurer, thank you girls! <3

Hoffmann & Tennstedt (Das Boot) The baby face & the stone face. :) The biggest reason for this series is my sister, who tried to lure me into the fandom already last summer by showing the first episode. Sadly it was a far too distressing experience. The story is about a WW2 German warfare, so it isn’t very light entertainment for Saturday night. The show seemed like a worth watching production, though, but I doubted if I could ever watch it completely. After visiting Berlin now in February 2020 there was no hesitation anymore. The story focuses on the Nazi German submarine, U-612, and the occupied city of La Rochelle in France. However, not everything is as black and white as one might expect. One of the biggest messages of the show is that war is always brutal, no matter which side you fight. The innocent are always suffering. It also shows how the ideal thoughts of warfare crumble, if it comes at the cost of greed, deception, health or life. There is disagreement among the leaders on boat, too. The new commander, kaleun Klaus Hoffmann, is young and inexperienced but kind-hearted and wise. Next on the scale, IWO Karl Tennstedt, is an experienced sailor and an glory-seeking soldier, who envies Hoffamann's position. He regards Hoffmann as incompetent and a disgrace to Germany. So, there is plenty of tension between these two!

Louis & Philippe (Versailles) I started watching the show sometime in 2015, but found it quite distasteful. It was more brutal than expected, and I was overwhelmed by people's greed and dirty behavior, so I stopped watching after a few episodes. Every now and then I saw pics/gifs on Tumblr, especially of Monsieur and Chevalier, that I finally wanted to give another chance in January 2020. This time the experience was the opposite, and I got a better grip on the story. I was surprised how little I liked the popular Monchevy pair and, instead, so much the quarreling brothers. I was very moved when they joked with each other and showed brotherly love. In the scenes of conflict, I missed their compassion. I haven't watched the rest of seasons 2-3 yet, so I don't know if they get better. I hope so because together they would be a powerful duo.

Matt & Cherry (Red River) I had recorded Red River (1948) on my set-top box, and the closing date was expiring in December 2018. It was Montgomery Clift’s breakthrough movie, so it was a must see. The movie was a refreshingly different western, where the hero is not a macho cowboy and John Wayne a bad guy for a change. But most of all, I was amazed how Cherry Valance's behavior towards Matt Garth was so heavily double entendre. At first they are presented as challengers and opponents of each other. Slowly Cherry starts to show admiration for Matt, and increasingly talks about his gun. In return, Matt needs Cherry's shooting skills to herd cattle. Eventually they become each other's trusted ones. I always find it fascinating, if tension begins to develop between the opposing characters. If the story has a couple that doesn't change, develope or lacks dynamics, it probably won't arouse interest.

Fritz & Dr. Frankenstein (Frankenstein) I had seen a Tumblr gif of Renfield crawling in Dracula (1931) in August 2018. It was Dwight Frye’s breakthrough role. The movie inspired me to watch other Universal monster movies, of which Frankenstein (1931) became my favorite. The work pair of the story, these two outcasts of society, melted my heart. For unexplained reason they have joined their forces and seem to be working well together. They have a mutual partnership, where they can act naturally without fear. Their work is unique, e.g. digging the graves or snatching hanged bodies, but they treat it like any other dayily job. Somehow, I like this way of approach. Actually I have written about Fritz already earlier, where I take a closer look at their relationship. The text can be read here.

Adrian & Antony (Sebastiane) Well, this couple is a specialty of its own. They are another ones found through Tumblr. I saw a picture of them in June 2018 which led me to watch the film. In terms of story or acting, it's not a very special movie but technically professional level. First of all, it was shot under the blazing Sicilian sun on 35 mm film. The light is a vital factor when using a film camera, so the pictures look very rich. The scenes, where these two are having fun together in slow motion, are breathtaking. I had never seen anything like it before and, in my opinion, stole all the attention of the story since they were just characters in supporting roles. It was like a gay paradise on earth. Here I realize the importance in the way how the characters are presented. The technical presentation can play a surprisingly huge role when we try to read and understand the characters. It can influence us either to share their thoughts or to move even further away from them. Bonus points I give for Latin, which the entire cast is speaking in the film. I would also like to clarify that this is not a p**n movie or a family movie either. It’s a gay erotic story with some full frontal nudity.

Reinhold & Conrad I’m not sure if this is a ship or fandom, but I feel extreme warmth and joy for this pair (the Berlin trip may have something to do with this). They are also the only people from real life instead of characters. I’d like to share my story about them, unfortunately it's very long (I've never been a fluent writer) but explains my interest in more detail. I got to know Conrad Veidt already in high school at the turn of the millennium, the time before DVDs. Near the school there was a buy-sell-exchange movie shop, where my sister and I visited regularly. Somehow we ended up with the idea that we wanted to see The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), so we went to the store again. There was no copy, as expected, but the seller said he would keep in mind if one came up. Months passed and after a long break we visited our regular place again. This time, the man had news for us: he had received a copy and kept it in safe for us. We couldn’t believe our eyes and ears. First of all, the kindness of the man made us speechless, and secondly, we never thought we would get our own copy of such popular rarity. At that time movies were not re-released as often as they are today. It was a VHS cassette, bw, not tinted like the original version, and its quality was far from the 4K richness and sharpness. My sister still has the tape and is one of the treasures she will never give away. For years the film was the only Conrad movie we saw, along with Casablanca - until the digital age and the social media arrived. Again I have to thank Tumblr, where I found the actor Anton Walbrook. One of his most famous films, Viktor und Viktoria (1933), is directed by Reinhold Schünzel, whom I knew from Conrad's film Different from the Others (1919). I began to study Reinhold's background more closely in December 2017, and it turned out that he is a forgotten multi-talent in the film industry: He was a versatile performer in comedies and dramas, a prolific director and an idea-rich screenwriter. He had an eye for creating stories that were told in the minds of people in addition to acting and lines. He questioned gender roles and built juicy plot twists around them. He loved theater and was a popular celebrity in 1920’s Germany. He was also a colleague and friend of Conrad. They began their film careers at the same time in Richard Oswald's films, shared the ups and downs, even their wardrobe, and reached fame. Eventually they both had to emigrate from the national socialist Germany, so their paths parted. The following reunions were always a joy, “like the meeting of comrades who fought in many wars together”. Reinhold was supposed to direct Conrad’s first film at MGM in Hollywood, but the plans were changed. They never got to work together since the German years, when Conrad died suddenly. “Part of my life is gone forever”, as Reinhold wrote in his tribute to Connie's death in 1943. He returned to Germany in the end of 1940s and died in Munich in 1954. This is why they are so precious to me and why I find it important to share the memory of these two lifelong friends. The picture is from Eerie Tales (1919), one of their earliest movies together with the director: Reinhold, Richard and Conrad. Reinhold’s full tribute can be read here.

I’m tagging: @wohlbruecks, @perfides-subjekt, @kennyboybarrett, @chapinfan69, @electricnormanbates, @ars-historia-est, @suchamiracle-does-exist and anyone who likes to do it. Would you like to share your stories behind your otps? :)

#tag post #ship history meme #ships & fandoms #personal #many thanks for posting this #unwillingadventurer #this was so much fun to do #it gave a much needed break to the situation we are living atm #i guess that’s why the text became so long sorry for that #i had to write it in finnish first #in order to get a proper structure #these are my current ships/fandoms #bbc sherlock & johnlock was the reason i ever started on here #own post

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Not Your (soul)Mate {8/15}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/N: This is in my top 3 favorite chapters for this story, so I’m more than excited to share it with you guys! I’m also sharing it a little (super) early for @thejollyroger-writer because she’s a sweetheart. And maybe because I think everyone deserves a little happiness, and I think this chapter will bring you guys some happiness❤️

And check out that new artwork from @captainsjedi! Isn’t it awesome? She’s also a sweetheart who deserves all of the love 💜

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Tag list: @initiala @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @xellewoods @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark@cssns

-/-

“Why are you sweating?”

“Because it’s hot.”

“Not that hot.”

“You’re pregnant, A. Your hormones are all messed up, so I don’t trust your temperature gauge.”

Ariel groans next to her and sinks down further on the swing they’re sitting on in Mary Margaret and David’s backyard. Their house is like some kind of weird farm paradise, and Emma loves being out here when she needs to relax. This fourth of July party has not turned out to be relaxing in the slightest.

That’s really not a shocker considering that crazy shit seems to happen on this day every year. Give people a few beers and the promise of lights exploding in the sky and all of the sudden they forget that today isn’t some bubble that doesn’t extend to tomorrow. There are always consequences to actions.

“Babe, doesn’t Emma look flushed to you?”

She hides her face behind her hands as Eric looks at her, seemingly peering into her soul while he tries to see if her face looks flushed. It does. It’s kind of hot and humid outside, and she’s honestly still a little hot and bothered by Killian from earlier. Damn him. Seriously damn him for purposefully riling her up in front of all of these people where she can’t sneak away and go hide in a corner somewhere while she calms herself down. One day the two of them are going to explode at each other, and she’s terrified to think about the consequences.

Because yet again, she seems to be the only one thinking about consequences.

It’s all fun and games until someone talks too much, and she fucks the absolute last person she wants to fuck.

No, wait, scratch that. Killian is not the last person. There are several people on that list way ahead of him, but for the emotional repercussions, she is not sleeping with him.

She is not sleeping with her soulmate.

(She is not sleeping with anyone.)

Even if she finds him funny and charming and very possibly nice. But that’s how every man is at the beginning, and she’s not falling for it again, predestined or not.

They can talk (kind of) and be in the same place, but she’s not dating him.

And she really needs him to stop messing with her, at least for today. It’s fine when they’re passing each other notes through food - even if his notes are obnoxious - or when they’re both riling each other up while they’re submerged in the water with a few people around, but when she’s got every single person she knows within a ten foot radius, Killian messing with her is not an ideal situation.

Two can play at the game and all that, but sometimes she’s simply not in the mood.

Today is one of those days.

“She does look a little red. You feeling okay?”

“Besides the fact that I’m on this swing with you guys while you treat me like I’m your child, I’m fine.”

“Fine is never fine.”

“You have got to stop saying that,” she sighs, leaning her head over on Ariel’s shoulder, fully embracing her role as their adult child, which kind of seems like it’s an oxymoron. It also kind of seems like it simply describes a hell of a lot of men she knows. “Sometimes fine is fine.”

“You sure? I know today isn’t a very fun day for you.”

Of course Ariel remembers. How could she not? She knows all even when Emma doesn’t tell her. Some kind of red-headed oracle.

“I’m just glad he’s not here. It would be a very Walsh move to show up at the Nolans’ party knowing that I’m here. He was such a dick.”

“The biggest dick.”

“Second biggest dick, but he definitely didn’t have the second biggest dick if you know what I mean.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be here for this conversation,” Eric groans while she and Ariel laugh a bit. Maybe she is an adult child if she’s laughing at small dick jokes. Maybe some people deserve to have small dick jokes made about them.

“Don’t worry, hon,” Ariel placates, patting her husband’s thigh, “we won’t scar you by informing you that other men also have penises. I know that must be shocking for you.”

“I have got to stop spending time with the two of you together.”

“Please,” she scoffs, blindly reaching over Ariel’s shoulder until she finds Eric’s, “you married one of us and knocked her up, so I’d say that bodes pretty well for how much you love us.”

“Or how much I love my wife.”

“Well, we’re a packaged deal, Fisher. A two for one.”

“What about Belle?”

“Oh you’re right. We come in a pack of three.”

“That could be both terrifying and incredibly arousing.”

“Hey,” Ariel groans, sitting up so that Emma’s head falls a bit off of her shoulder and onto the wood of the swing.

“What? If you can point out that other men have dicks, I can point out that your friends are capable of sex. I’d punch Walsh if he showed up here, by the way,” he adds on, almost making her forget how much she never wants to think about Eric thinking about her having sex again. If she had a dad, that would almost be like her dad thinking about her having sex. Then again, Ariel has definitely shared her sex life with Emma, and this all gets more disturbing the longer she’s left alone with her thoughts. “He was an idiot to ever think he could do better than you.”

Technically he could with his soulmate, but she’s not going to think about that. It’s not like he cheated on her with his soulmate or anything, not that it would have made the situation any better. It’s kind of a shit move to date someone knowing that they’re not your soulmate and then cheating on them with your actual soulmate instead of simply telling your partner that you want to break up. It happens all the damn time, and it’s like people have forgotten basic decency.

Walsh definitely had. They’d been dating since last January, and on the fourth of July last year she’d found him sleeping with this red-headed woman in Mary Margaret’s guest bedroom in the middle of this party. Apparently, it had been going on for two or three months, which was nearly half of their relationship, and he had the gall to cheat on her at one of her best friend’s houses during a holiday party with everyone in town just a few feet away. She didn’t even want to come today, the memories of it leading her down a dark path that inevitably always leads to Neal, but Belle had dragged her out of her bedroom and told her that they were coming to this party no matter what.

And it’s been fine. No one has mentioned last year, not even Leroy. At least yet. His mouth tends to get a little looser when he’s had too much to drink, but she hopes that being at a party with every cop in town will keep him in line.

She’s just going to avoid the guest bedroom at all costs. She won’t even sleep in there when she stays over. She’ll sleep on the couch or the bottom bunk in Leo’s bedroom.

But anything to avoid the guest bedroom.

Even if she really needed to go release some tension earlier when Killian was messing with her. She’d nearly dropped the coleslaw her legs were so shaky when they were putting the side dishes out. She’s glad that Elsa came by with Luca trailing right behind her because if Luca, who is so obviously in awe of her uncle, hadn’t been there, she would have very gladly told him to fuck off.

On another day she’ll give him a snarky napkin note like they’ve been doing, but she doesn’t feel like it right now. She doesn’t have the sass or sarcasm in her.

“Thank you,” she finally tells Eric, not knowing what else to say. “Is the sun ever going to set or are we going to be out here in this hot misery forever?”

“I think we might be out here forever. I need to pee.”

Ariel gets up off of the swing and wipes her hands against her dress, the curve of her stomach more obvious today than it’s ever been, and excuses herself to head inside while Eric does the same, claiming that he needs another beer. She could go for some of the whiskey that David keeps in the kitchen on the top shelf that she can’t get to without using a chair to step up on. She knows it’s so their six-year-old doesn’t accidentally get into it, but a part of her thinks that it’s so that she doesn’t get into it either.

Jokes on him because she’s smart enough to be able to get to it all.

Not that she’s going to. Instead she gets up from the swing and follows Ariel and Eric to the main part of the backyard where everyone is milling around. She grabs another bottle of water from the cooler and makes her way around the yard, speaking to everyone she knows...which unfortunately is everyone. When she was a deputy, she spent nearly every day talking to the people in town, and even though she still does that, her promotion which is only really half of a promotion even with the title change and pay raise, it’s not as much as it used to be. There could be new people in their little circle of friends, and she could have no idea.

Or she could have an idea and simply not see the people.

Killian is a great example of that.

She hates that she’s so drawn to him. It’s like he’s a flame when it’s dark outside, and she’s a damn bug heading toward the brightness and warmth of the light. That’s the worst metaphor she’s ever made (even if her car is a bug), but there’s a reason she was never an English major and wouldn’t have been if she had gone to college. It’s not her thing. She’s drawn to him. She knows why. It’s pretty much inevitable that she would be, but she’s never been one for sure things.

The inevitable doesn’t always have to be that way. She’s never been a fan of following the rules even if her occupation says otherwise.

She glances up and sees Killian sitting with his feet in the pool, his legs hanging over the edge of the water, and tossing an inflated ball back and forth between Leo, Luis, and Luca.

(Ariel better name her kid with something with a name other than an “L” because that is far too much for her to have to keep up with.)

She can hear the murmurings of his voice over all of the people between them, but it’s muted, barely a whisper above the crowd. It’s not usually like that, and she wonders just how loud it is here for her to not be able to hear him clearly when they’re within twenty feet of each other. She’s never tested out the range, but she thinks that’s a pretty good estimate.

He seems relaxed, carefree, and she bets that no part of him cares that he’s getting water all over his button up as the kids splash him. How in the world did he even end up over there when there are so many better things to be doing? Then again, she’s the one sitting on top of a portable cooler staring at him and working on her second bottle of water this hour, so it’s not like she’s got a lot of room to say anything.

He looks really good in that light blue shirt, and his hair has gotten a little longer so that these few pieces more prominently hang over his forehead even though the sides are pretty tightly cut. She likes it more than she’s willing to admit, and she bets it’d be soft to run her hands through.

Not that she’ll ever know the answer to that query.

“Whatcha staring at, kid?”

“You’re five years older than me,” she sighs, scooting over so David can have some room on the cooler as well, the hair on his leg brushing up against her thigh.

“Ah,” David groans, reaching over and taking her water from her before he takes a sip, “but I feel a solid two decades older than you some days because you often act like Leo. I mean, you sure as hell eat like him.”

“You’re always complaining about my food, but you’re always eating it. I mean, you ate half of that bread basket before I took it home.”

“What can I say? Killian knows how to pick out some pastries.”

That saying about jaws dropping and hitting the floor feels pretty apt right now as her jaw opens a little, her lips parting, and she kind of feels like she’s just been hit in the face by the ball Killian and the kids are tossing around. How in the world would he know that? There was no name on the note, and she made a point not to tell him. There was a whole thing. She knows. She remembers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You may be able to tell when others are lying, but you are the worst liar.”

“I am not.”

“You’re as bad as Leo,” David chuckles, knocking his shoulder into hers at the same time that she watches Killian throw his head back, laughter shaking his shoulders and his stomach moving. She can hear it a little more loudly this time, but she imagines that it’s because she’s trying to focus on anything other than David right now. “And Mr. French told me who sent the basket when I complimented him on the blueberry muffins. He went on and on about how Killian Jones bought out the entire bakery for that basket and how he must really like you.”

She’d like to go back to the swing with Ariel and Eric right now and die from the heat. That would be preferable to this.

Hell, maybe she’ll strip out of her clothes and streak through the yard so someone will have to arrest her and put her in jail for the night. That, too, would be preferable to this.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she sighs, wishing that she hadn’t left her phone inside to charge so she’d have something to fiddle with.

“What? You and Killian aren’t in some kind of secret relationship where he woos you with bread?”

“No, though I think all people should be wooed with bread or food. Forget jewelry. Food is the new romantic gift.”

“So you were wooed by the pastries?”

“I was not wooed,” she huffs, hitting her knuckles against his knee while she watches Mary Margaret walk around and offer everyone dessert. The woman really never stops. It’s insane. They should probably get up and help. “I’d like to make that very clear. Killian Jones is not wooing me or flirting with me or courting me. Killian Jones is doing nothing to me.”

Though she has dreamed otherwise.

Dammit.

“He’s staring at you right now.”

Her eyes find Killian’s across the yard. He could have stared at her this entire time, and she wouldn’t have cared as long as he wasn’t staring at her while David was paying attention. Their timing is just fantastic.

“I - I don’t…” she stutters, the heat on her cheeks rising again as her tongue seems to twist itself inside of her mouth, keeping her from forming coherent words. That probably stems from the fact that she can’t seem to form coherent thoughts, so maybe her brain is all twisted up too. That doesn’t seem quite right, but what does she know? “He’s like a friend.”

“So a friend?”

“No, like a friend. It’s different.”

“How the hell does that make any sense?”

“It’s,” she starts again, waving her hands around. “We are friendly to each other, but we are not actively friends. Like, we poke fun and tease at each other, but there are some mitigating issues that keep us from actually being friends.”

“Like the fact that you very obviously have feelings for the man.”

“Feelings of annoyance? Yes.”

“Feelings of appreciation, maybe. You know, Emma, it’s not a bad thing to have feelings for someone.”

“It hasn’t seemed to work that way in the past. You remember last year.”

“I had to burn my sheets. Of course I remember.”

She laughs a little and adjusts herself on the cooler, tapping her fingers against her own knee and wondering if she can wear jeans for the next week so that she doesn’t have to shave. It’s probably too hot for that, but this is summer in Maine. Tomorrow she could walk out of her apartment having to wear her jacket.

“I don’t...when I say it’s complicated with him, I really do mean it. It’s not like how you and Mary Margaret are. You guys have got some genuine love, even if it does make me want to vomit sometimes, and I think I’m biologically programmed not to have that.”

David’s arm wraps around her shoulder, and he pulls her into her side so that his lips can brush against her temple. Such a dad. “You have genuine love in your life. There are a lot of people who love you, and you have to know that. And maybe if there is someone out there who makes you smile or makes you laugh, soulmate or not, that could be some genuine love too. Not all love burns up and dies.”

“Can we talk about something else?” she deflects, her eyes trained on a few blades of grass that are not quite as green as the rest of the yard. Her heart is practically in her stomach at this point, and she would do anything not to think about relationships or her past or the man that’s sitting with his legs dangling in the pool.

“Sure,” David agrees. “I have just been itching to have someone to talk to about the propane tanks on the grill.”

“Oh my gosh.”

David does talk about his propane tanks for a little while, boring her to death, but he eventually moves on to the Yankees game last night and to some big philosophy talk on why baseball and sport in general is so important to the general population. It’s not at all what she was expecting, but it kind of cracks her up as David rambles on. He’s obviously had a few beers today, which is only a little worrisome since he’s in charge of lighting the fireworks tonight. Working with explosives seems like something only sober people should do.

It very rarely is.

As the sun starts to fully set, darkness finally beginning to cover the sky, she excuses herself from the party, grabbing a bottle of beer and climbing up the ladder to Leo’s treehouse. This has to be the best place to view the fireworks from, and she’s surprised that no one else ever comes up here to watch. It’s a bit of a loner habit of hers, not that she’s lacking in those, and as she stands against the open window with her elbows propped on the wood, she watches all of her friends move around the backyard, everyone that was inside relishing in the air conditioning coming outside, Wilby nipping at the heels probably looking for scraps.

Ariel and Eric have found their way back to the swing, the two of them chatting with each other, and she sees Belle and Will sitting at a table with Robin and Regina. Roland must have been with his mom for the first half of the party because he’s now here and running around with the rest of the kids, all of them still in their swimsuits. If only she could have that much energy. That would be worth piles of gold. Ruby is being predictably Ruby, standing at the center of a crowd making everyone laugh. She can practically see Elsa’s blush from here, and when she sees Liam standing with his arm over his wife’s shoulder, she realizes that someone is missing from the crowd.

“See anything interesting?” Killian asks from behind her, her skin breaking out into bumps at the sound of his voice.

Of course he’s up here.

She doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t necessarily dislike it either, which pretty much sums up a lot of things about her life.

She simply grunts in response, not feeling like talking or causing the two of them any issues. No part of her will ever be over this part of her life, and she wonders if this will ever get better, if it’ll ever be possible to be in the same room as Killian without being driven crazy.

(Like, if this is what the universe wants for the two of them, does it expect for them to never have any kind of meaningful conversation? She still doesn’t understand that part.)

She wonders if she wants that.

Mostly she wonders why she wants that.

And when Killian comes to stand next to her, the scent of sweat and chlorine obvious on him, she laughs when he puts down a notepad between them, a pen resting on top of it. Twisting her head to side, she sees that his lips are curved into a smirk, the right side higher than the left, and the same goes for his eyebrows, one practically in his hairline. That’s definitely his signature move. He nods down at the notepad, and her gaze finds the words written there.

I’m sorry that I’m an asshole and was messing with you earlier.

She puts her beer down and picks up the pen, scribbling on the paper.

It’s okay.

You didn’t seem okay.

Bad day.

Want to talk about it?

Or, write about it.

Independence Day is also the day that my last boyfriend took independence from me and cheated on me. At this party.

She has no idea why she wrote that, and if she had an eraser, she’d get rid of the evidence. But she doesn’t.

I’m sorry. He sounds like a wanker.

He is. Your brother is a sloppy drinker.

She hears Killian’s chuckle, and twists her head to look up at him and his smile again.

A bloody lightweight. It’s fun to get him drunk. He talks out of his ass and is genuinely funny for once in his life.

Oh I don’t know. I think he’s the funniest Jones brother.

That’s because you haven’t really been truly humored by me yet.

Your face does make me laugh.

Because you can’t handle its beauty?

She should have known that joke was coming with him, and she should have the strength to resist laughing at it, but she can’t help herself. She snickers, the sound passing through her lips, and she realizes that she feels lighter than she has all day even with the air getting heavier around her, the humidity increasing as the night goes on with the threat of more thunderstorms the next day. The fact that today was sunny still surprises her.

Killian winks when he sees her smiling, and she leans back to put a little more space between them. That wink doesn’t make her stomach feel some type of way at all.

“What?” he speaks aloud as he leans back again, resting his shoulder against the treehouse wall.

“Nothing.”

“If you’re sure.”

She’s not sure. Really, no part of her is sure about anything. But she’s kind of feeling good right now, feeling like maybe today isn’t all bad despite all of those lingering feelings and everyone bringing up her relationship status today and making her think about her past. The first boy she ever kissed was named Blake, and he was about as average in his name as he was in kissing. She’s sure that he’s gotten better, that he’s improved since they were fourteen, but she’ll always have the memory of that sloppy mess.

The first boy she ever loved, though, was Neal Cassidy. She was seventeen, and he was a little older. Looking back she realizes that a twenty-three-year-old should not have been dating a seventeen-year-old, but for the first time in her life, she felt loved and secure and happy that someone wanted to be her. Who she was then is not who she is now, and whether she likes it or not, a lot of that is because of Neal. He was adventurous and charming, always talking her into doing just about anything, and they dated for a little under three years.

He was...she loved him, and he thought that she was perfect. That’s something that he was always calling her, and now, when she hears the word, it sends chills down her spine. He called her perfect and wonderful and he made her believe that she was this person who he treasured being with. And then she peed on a stick and the word “pregnant” popped up, and suddenly that one word made every other kind word that Neal called her be replaced with things like “irresponsible” and “loose” and a “slut.” He was the only person she’d ever slept with, and he was calling her a slut.

Not that sleeping around makes anyone a slut. She’d just...that’s how Neal made her feel.

She wasn’t pregnant, though.

That’s the real kicker of the whole thing. There she was almost twenty years old taking a pregnancy test and thinking she was going to have a baby with the guy she loved only for him to lose his mind and scare her to the point that she didn’t feel safe. That night he packed a bag and left, for Tallahassee where his father lived, he’d said. He was running away, he was leaving, and he was abandoning her.

She thought he was her family, that they were making a family together, and he abandoned her.

Just like everyone else.

She’d say that her baby abandoned her, but there was never any baby. It was a cheap test, a false positive, and to this day she still hates to admit that she’s upset that she wasn’t pregnant, that she didn’t get to have a family of her own for once in her life. She knows how naive she was about it all, especially because Neal convinced her that they were soulmates because they didn’t have obvious signs.

Especially since her probable, actual soulmate is currently standing in front of her with pretty blue eyes and a kind smile that seems to happen whenever he makes her laugh.

Even when he frustrates her, he makes her feel good in a way that she hasn’t felt in awhile, and maybe she deserves to do something reckless for once. It’s been a long time, since she lived in Boston and before the police academy really, and she wants to feel good.

“You know, Swan, most of the time when women look at me like you’re looking at me, I get to know if their undergarments match. But you did say that I’ll never know that about you, and I guess I’ll have to be okay with that. I do have a vivid imagination.”

Cheeky asshole.

Why in the world is she charmed by his flirting?

She hesitates, not entirely sure if she wants this, but he’s been driving her crazy since April and she wants to know. She wants to know just what it would be like to steal the words from Killian’s lips, to make him stop talking and actually act on his words, but mostly she wants to take advantage of the fact that she is so turned on right now that she can’t think of anything other than Killian’s lips on hers.

Stepping forward, the wood of Leo’s treehouse creaking underneath her footstep, she grabs onto the collar of his shirt and slams her lips into his. It takes a moment for him to kiss back, which makes sense for how out of nowhere this must seem, but before she can think about it too much, his right hand is threading into her hair, twisting her head so that his lips can wrap around her upper lip, and his left hand is falling down to rest at her waist, nearly palming her ass. He tugs her closer, their bodies completely pressed up against each other, and she groans at the same time Killian does, his hardening length pressing into her hip through his jeans. Everything about Killian’s kiss is desperate, hurried, and she can’t get enough. There’s never going to be enough of this, and even though his lips are only on hers, she wears she can feel them on every inch of her skin.

She swears that she is on fire right now, and she wouldn’t mind going down in the flames.

When Killian’s tongue teases at the seam of her lips, she doesn’t hesitate before opening her mouth to his, letting their tongues tangle together in a slick, wet slide that has tiny fireworks exploding over her flesh and making every thought except more escape from her mind. She wants more of the warmth of his body, more of the softness or his lips, and more of the rough scratch of his beard against her skin.

She wants more of him.

There is nothing else, no one else, and as Killian’s hand firmly becomes planted on her ass and her fingers wander to his hair, finally feeling just how soft the strands are, all she can feel is him.

And all she can see behind her closed eyes are bright blue lights exploding into the sky and bringing her out of the darkness.

But then there’s a boom, a rather large one in fact, and she startles back when she realizes that it’s not one of the metaphorical fireworks that she can still feel flickering across her skin, especially on her chin where Killian’s scruff is rubbing into her. It’s a very real, very bright firework that she watches explode in the air through the window of the treehouse all the while her forehead still rests against Killian’s, their breaths intermingling.

He tasted kind of like rum, and she wonders where he found that.

It’s like everything comes back to her as blue and green sparks explode against the inky midnight blue of the sky, and she knows the light warm air in the sky will evaporate the moment her body is no longer pressed up against Killian’s, the heavy humidity enveloping her. But she moves back anyway, their hips no longer pressed together even as their foreheads stay the same.

“That was - “

“A one time thing,” she gasps, letting her hands fall from his hair and her feet step away, nearly tripping in the dip in the wood. She shouldn’t have done that. They shouldn’t have done that. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She’s not supposed to fall for him, and she tells herself that she’s not, that it’s simply because the universe is tricking them into it. She doesn’t care.

She’s emotional today and he was talking and he knows how to charm her. It’s...she doesn’t care, and all of her earlier thoughts about caring for him were lies.

(She can’t get hurt again.)

But that can’t explain why she can’t look Killian in the eye and why she has to look toward the ladder, her focus completely on getting away. “Stay up here for awhile,” she whispers, ignoring the swell of her lips as she moves toward the ladder. “I’m going inside. Don’t...don’t follow me.”

She doesn’t listen to see if he answers or replies, to see if he calls out to her, because she can’t hear a damn thing over the loud thumping of her heart as it pounds between her ears, decidedly not where it’s supposed to be. But as she’s climbing down the ladder, her legs nearly falling out beneath her for how unsteady they are, she hears another “as you wish” followed by the loud boom of a firework.

Only this time, there’s no light exploding into the sky.

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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theblackshit · 4 years

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Omsk Social Club / Unrealism 1) 58 days live work Part of the exhibition “Journey in a living Being” curated by Tilman Baumgärtel 2) Web: https://unrealism.live/ 3) Secret Location 18th May - 16th August 2020 Kunstraum Kreuzberg/Bethanien Mariannenpl.2, 10997 Berlin

Unrealism - A Concept Every second of the day, every day, billions of users log on and never before, has there been so much talk about the effect of culture on civilization. Not on one civilization but all civilizations because we live in an era of bleed. Even those unconnected feel the effects of connectivity. Be it from the physical electromagnetic waves or the trickle-down political heat stoked online and other clickbaitable lifestyles that become rogue and inevitably vogue. The latter examples are the latest public revelation in digital connectivity, the passionate transfusion of matter into mind, but can we state this as new, not really our minds have always been a hotbed of collectivity. Voluntarily or not, we are made up of others. Yet we declare ourselves singular souls in the west at least. “Unrealism” is the latest immersive project by Omsk Social Club to unpack the unique ontology of the digital being in relation to collective identity.

THE IDENTITY Today the carving of a digital identity becomes the foundational tool of knowing oneself, true or otherwise. Eastyn Agrippa - an unknown author became driven by this phenomenon and decided to begin to sculpt identities that could survive only online. This became an obsession for them and after a year of living multiple identities over 3 different time zones. Agrippa decided to live 58 days online, only using physical space for existing but never leaving that realm bodily. This would be their first book - their memoir of an online paradise. Agrippa, as a personality was by no means on the brink of hikikomori . Agrippa was, in 1 fact, a character who devoured experiences, this has been the latest in a long list of extreme behavioural patterns they had developed in the name of art. Agrippa was not shy of their experiments and one night started pitching this new line of inquiry to a friend who convinced Agrippa to take the piece to the next level - “let the collective hive mind help you live this, do this on Twitch”, an online video streaming platform that is mostly used for Esports, video game competitions. This new direction drove Agrippa further into a frenzy of gamifiying and tokenizing the life they were about to embark on. Agrippa then sent a telegram message to a curator they knew, asking if they might be interested in presenting it, naturally one needs an audience base beyond their own social circle for this experiment to really be interestingly Lived. 1 Hikikomori is a psychological condition which makes people shut themselves off from society, often staying in their houses for months on end. Its is estimated there are at least half a million of them in Japan. It was once thought of as a young person's condition, but sufferers are getting older and staying locked away for longer reports say in 2019. BACKEND Over the years many postmodernist theorists and thinkers have argued against an authentic self arguing that the self is a variable. A social construct created by cultural components and historical narratives. This has lead to a crisis of being rather than a celebration of self-flux. Digital technology has become an active test-bed potentially unknowingly for both sides of the argument. The traditional solid-state self, the authentic you was proposed as the foundations for such social networking platforms like Facebook, Myspace etc, you could build the true you, what’s on your mind so your “friends” could see your life unfurled in real-time rather than waiting to meet you IRL. This belief of the “true self” was so effective online through such nodes that the user on the other end rarely asked, “How do I know you’re the sentient being I wish to connect to and not just a simulacrum?” In recent years we have begun to acknowledge the use of simulacrum farms and individual imitation beings aka catfishing. Yet it is more likely we believe the other node to be of a sentient nature first and foremost. On the other side of the spectrum, the internet also gave birth to the avatar, a shadow being that the user or multiple users in the case of gaming could inhabit the skin of. The rise in the culture of avatars seems to declare human identity as a creative occasion for a long-overdue investigation into the notion of the self. Since the early days of online role-playing - stemming from the swollen world of the Dungeon and Dragons that took on a digital formation, the intensification of othering seems to have reached a new precedent. One 2 where the users do not only explore with the phantasms they create but they, in fact, become them inside this fresh layer of Maya3, the online world. One extreme example of becoming other is in the rise of the influencer a much-explored topic in both arts and theory. But a slightly less trodden path of investigation in this realm is the collective body behind the influencer or in fact any avatar. We can realistically argue that every influencer is shaped from an unseen backend of users, the likes and interactions create the architecture of the avatar. Types of behaviours are accentuated in order to gain attention and therefore interaction - after all, there is little fun in playing by oneself in a lonely chasm of your own making. Each character that is birthed is colonized by the actions of others. Attention is what is shaping these identities, even if it is a one-on-one case of interaction, a love story or catfishing fraud. These social spaces give way to virtual theatres and the avatar becomes the performer apart from rules differ from a traditional theatre because the audience can try to author the play as it is been played out and it can be dubbed as non-fiction to the viewer and by the viewer. This method of collective active narration is the root of our artistic practice, we call this technique Real Game Play4 (RGP) and it informs our practice wholly. Yet up until now we have worked with physical incarnations of our own world scenarios - Unrealism is the first time we will become written in real-time vulnerability. 2 The use of Othering is in response to Hegel who stated in The Phenomenology of Spirit (1807) that the concept of the Self requires the existence of the Other as the counterpart entity required for defining the Self. He introduced the concept of the Other as a constituent part of self-consciousness (preoccupation with the Self), which complements the propositions about self-awareness (capacity for introspection). The use of othering in this case is a radical othering of oneself by oneself. 3 Traditionally in Hindu culture and New Age Spirituality, devotees would seek to free themselves from maya, which references the deluding power of Nature. This is directed at the illusionary world that we are ultimately embedded inside due to the clutter of humanity. Such devotees aim to free themselves through sacred rituals such as meditation. 4 A live action role-playing game (LARP) is a form of role playing game (rpg) where the participants physically act out their characters' actions. Real Game Play (RGP) *mutation of rpg see above, is a combination of Larp and your own identity/lived experience – think of it like a meta-structure of you and the character given to you to act out. Source: A subjective rationale for LARP and RGP by Omsk Social Club 2017

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