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#i’m always like ‘damn if i just walked around more. if i wasn’t so sedentary. if i just got out more’
motheyes · 1 year
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my hips hurt from sitting and laying. they’d hurt if i was walking more. they always hurt regardless
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g-kat423 · 2 months
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Just chatting about my day
My day was actually pretty good other than being in a weird mood. PMS be damned. Went on 2 walks because it was sunny, but still needed a winter jacket due to the wind. We also go back into a winter storm warning in 2 days. Ugh. I just want Spring. This winter air is killing skin. The walking I’ve been doing is really the most I’ve done since surgery because I had those few weeks I had to limit weight bearing, then weight bearing as tolerated, and then I was totally cleared in January after my last appointment with my surgeon. That was the dead of winter though and I was in a deep depression, mostly sedentary and only leaving the house for appointments apart from a couple times where I saw friends. Anyway, the walking around the neighborhood is still a lot for my hip. It doesn’t feel as bad as it did pre-surgery, but I think I’m always going to be limited and it will never be the way it was since before I became symptomatic. It’s just weird because the problem with my hip was something I was born with, but it wasn’t an issue until I was 23 and then it plagued me for years until a doctor finally listened. I believe I still have nerve damage down my leg from how long the issue was left without being addressed because I still get some burning/numbness down into my foot but I don’t have that localized calf and knee pain from my sciatic nerve constantly being irritated by my fucked up hip joint literally pinching it. Now it’s mostly the issue with my cervical spine and my right shoulder that’s always subluxing. The one surgeon who would see me with my insurance though refuses to fix it because he says due to my hypermobility, my shoulder would just dislocate again and the surgery would be useless 🙃 My hip surgeon said there is a risk of my hip having issues again, but he was still willing to do the surgery and I am thankful for that because I will take feeling good for now with only a possibility of an issue in the future vs how I did feel because I probably would have killed myself if I got turned down by a 2nd surgeon with how bad my mental state was last year due to the pain. Idk at least the pain I have in my shoulder/arm/neck is more tolerable though it can still be unbearable at times. I wish my connective tissue wasn’t like this so my body would stop tearing itself apart from every day things.
Idk got sidetracked but yeah I want to try to be as active as my body will allow. I wish we were truly in a post covid world so I could work towards getting my independence back, but it’s still a threat, one way making does not work, and my first covid infection gave me lifelong health issues so I’d really rather not risk more infections if I can help it because surviving the acute infection doesn’t mean you’re safe.
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soaronmywings · 4 years
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Burro (Coco x Reader)
A/N: So this is a little OOC for Coco, but I honestly just went with the song. I feel like it gives it more drama this way. But at the same time, seeing what he did to his own mother, I could see him behaving like this (especially with what happened to him at the end of Season 2). And I swear that I don’t write this kinda stuff all the time even though it may seem like it.
Warnings: Angst. Drama. Toxicity, Language for sure. Degrading. Violence. POSSIBLE SPOILERS.
Inspired by this song~
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I've been a mess since you stayed
I've been a wreck since you changed
The phone calls began to get shorter. His visits became sparse. The light that once shined in his eyes dimmed, before eventually completely disappearing. You began to gradually decompensate. Thinking everything was your fault. You weren’t even sure how to feel when after two weeks of no contact, he walked into your apartment like nothing happened, lathered in the blood of a man whose name you would never know. When you tried to ask what happened, if he was okay, how you could help, he shut you out.
That’s Coco for you. You never knew what side of him to prepare for, although these days you could almost always await a fight or even worse nothing at all. Coco becomes a turtle when he doesn’t want to interact with people. He pulls away, tucking himself away into his safe protective shield of silence. What the fuck happened to the two of you?
“What the fuck Johnny?” Why did I have to hear that this-” You pointed to the patch over his eye and the burn covering his arm. “- happened, from fucking Creeper of all people? Do you think I wouldn’t give a shit, huh?” Your arms crossed over your chest in a defensive state. He sits on your couch, not paying attention to a damn thing that you’re saying, just smoking his cigarette like he always does.
Don't let me get in your way
I miss the lies and the pain
The fights that keep us awake
I'm telling you
“I don't know why I try anymore. Not like you do, pendejo (stupid). Just get out of my house. Take your shit with you too. I’m fucking done Coco.” You scoffed and walked away from his sedentary demeanor. You had enough. The constant fights, not knowing anything, and getting treated like a damn landlord. The two of you haven’t even touched each other with an ounce of love in months. He comes back to your house, and crashes in your bed. He never made it a point of making his space a shared space, so you didn’t either. This was your house, giving you all the power in the world to kick his ass out.
“What the fuck you want me to do Y/N? You wan’ me to come here and spill all my shit at your feet? You want me to tell you how this-” he pointed to his eye in pure rage “-happened? No. That’s not what I do.” He rose to his feet as stalked over to you. You knew something was up as of late, but you never expected him to become this ferocious with you. Never expected for him to get nose to nose with you like this.
I miss the bad things
The way you hate me
I miss the screaming
The way that you blame me
“Yes Johnny. I know this isn’t ‘’what you do’ ‘ight? But maybe if you didn’t sit and drown yourself in booze, weed, and self pity every hour of every goddamn day you’d realize that you don’t have to do this alone! I’m not asking you for a fucking itinerary, burro (Jackass).” you placed your hands on either shoulder and pushed him back.
Coco’s eyes went dark as he locked his hand on your wrist and whipped you around, pinning your arm behind your back and pushed your face into the white wall. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to puta (Bitch)? Huh? Because you best not be talking to me that way.” His fingernails dug into your wrist as he shoved you deeper into the wall.
“Get the fuck off of me you stupid son of a bitch.” You sneered at him, venom dripping off of your tongue, thrashing against his grip. All you got from him was a sinister laugh, before shoving you into the ground. “Watch your mouth, perra (Slut). I’m sick of your shit.” He spit at you, making you see red.
Miss the phone calls
When it's your fault
I miss the late nights
Don't miss you at all
You stood up in fumes, balling up his shirt into your fists and socked him right in the jaw. “This what you fucking wanted Johnny?-” Your connection to his jaw sent him back a couple steps, giving you the chance to land another jab in his ribs. “-This the only way you can feel something?” The rib shot caused him to go breathless, hunching forward. You figured that he would get the hint and just leave.
But boy, were you wrong.
You turned around to retreat into your room, but Coco grabbed you by your hair and yanked you backwards. His free hand wrapping around your throat, propelling you into the hardwood floors. He lifted your head up just barely, before pushing you back down, causing a rather painful blow to the head. He raised his hand and gave you a powerful backhand across your cheek, a dangerous, bloody grin spread across his face.
I like the kick in the face
And the things you do to me
I love the way that it hurts
I don't miss you, I miss the misery
“Get the fuck out. Now. I never want to see your face again.” You seethed as you took your free hands and tried to push him off of you by his neck. He took his hand and wacked you again.
Your vision started to go black, and you dug your nails into his neck in response. Johnny hissed in pain, increasing his pressure as he stood up, jerking you back into the floor. “Estúpida puta de mierda. (Stupid fucking bitch)” He gathered his bloody spit in his mouth before spitting on you, leaving his blood splattered across your face.
“You get your wish bitch, one thing you forgot to add is how i’m ‘bout to go drown myself in pussy too.” He snickered as he swaggered toward your front door. You scoffed as he walked away. “Not the only one with options douchebag.” You spat back.
This entire encounter, while it may have been a little more extreme than normal, it wasn’t completely dumbfounding. You two always had a love hate sort of relationship. You would scream, yell, and say some pretty awful shit to each other, but normally ended up back in each other’s arms before daybreak. This time though, something felt different. It was the end of his and your ropes, making this fight that much more explosive. 
“Makes sense. Eres un tornillo fácil. (You’re an easy screw)” His words stung.You grabbed the nearest item in your immediate vicinity, and threw it in his direction. “Keep walking Cruz. Hope you get HPV!” You called after him after he slammed the door shut behind him.
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I think both Magnus and Alec have a big part of their lifes that have nothing to do with eachother. Okey, they are happily married and the live together but anyway... What about their hobbies? What about their own personal projects? Friends/queerplatonic relationships? I want to know who they are, besides of great politic leaders or someone's husband
i mean, i agree. i hate it when ppl reduce magnus and alec to malec or just generally care more about the romantic relationships than the other ones, nevermind bothering to develop other aspects of their lives that are just... theirs
to be fair i feel like we got a reasonable amount of that for them (for shadowhunter’s standarts of giving us content anyway). i mean, less for alec but that kinda makes sense considering that he’s spent most of his life avoiding any kind of close relationships that weren’t with his siblings like the plague and generally being, like, raised in a military based society with the weight of the world on his shoulders and also gay. but i totally agree that we should have gotten more of him getting out of his shell and finding hobbies and friends beyond just a romantic relationship. and for magnus, well, we know that he likes physics and science and studying magic as a whole, and dancing, and we know about his friends aka catarina and ragnor and raphael and dot, we know about his found family and his club and that he likes parties and good food and drinks, travelling, and meeting new people and cultures. you know?
but anyway, other headcanons with little things about their lives:
alec is totally the workout gay who likes fucking, idk jogging every morning and shit, and for some reason i can see him being into mountain climbing???? and magnus is like No Thank You. I Will Do Literally Anything Else because yikes the amount of effort and sweat and it’s just generally unpleasant. magnus is far from being sedentary, but also, no. yikes
he’s more into taking long walks in nice places and admiring the view and shit like that and he’s all like “isn’t it great? :)” and alec is like “haha yeah how far are we” because he’s just... goal-oriented and when he’s doing sports he likes to have a clear goal, something to achieve, or to push himself to his limits and all that bullcrap. while magnus likes to do it for the sake of doing it and enjoying himself and getting in contact with his own body & mind & soul and shit. they find some sort of enjoyment in it with the way alec always makes magnus laugh with his grumpiness + inability to truly understand what this whole thing is about + just general himboness, but as a whole, magnus likes to take his walks alone, so he can get that space for himself. and he’s definitely not joining in when alec is doing his weird sportsman training gimmick whatever-thing, either
same with tai-chi! magnus tried to get alec into it (altho somewhat awkwardly since magnus does magical tai chi and alec very much does not have magic) but it just, didn’t work out. one second into it and alec was already making that painfully concentrated face and he’s stiff as a board and it’s the opposite of what it’s supposed to be and magnus breaks down laughing and alec is all offended and they just can’t get past a few seconds and end up giving up. alec is the bitch who sits down to medidate and is immediately like BOY I AM GONNA GET IN TOUCH WITH MY INNER SELF SO FAST AND HARD FUCKING WATCH ME I’M GONNA BE THE BEST MEDIDATOR THIS SIDE OF THE PACIFIC FUCKING OOHMMM BITCH. introspective arts are just not for him
i like to think that alec gets closer to aline, and i can see him and helen hitting it off, too. like seriously guys let alec have friends who aren’t just magnus’ friends (and let magnus have friends that are HIS friends, too)
i know underhill is implied to become his friend but also, like..... he’s so boring i just can’t have any hcs for them as friends daoijsdaiouja i think they have more of a solidarity, nodding when walking past each other in the halls thing than actual friendship you know
obviously there’s alec’s siblings as he will always be the one izzy loves the most and she will always be one of the most important people for him, and even as magnus and izzy totally are friends too, she is still alec’s sister and they make it a point to see each other, just the two of them, at least once a week. izzy always smiles and loops her arm through his and alec’s immediately huffing but he loves it and she knows that he loves it. she was like, his only source of physical contact for so long, and god he really needed it and he loved her for giving it to him even as he pretended it was something he hated. neither of them want to shake that habit, so it stays
but there’s also a particular brand of friendship magnus has with her that alec doesn’t. like when they get all weird about dead bodies or go shopping? alec’s out 
magnus does a lot of studying (mostly languages, physics, and chemistry, as well as magic) so he has his own study room (plus the apothecary) that’s a whole damn mess filled with books and notes scattered around and shit and alec is not allowed in because he always wants to organize it and GOD FUCKING DAMN IT IT’S NOT DISORGANIZED I KNOW WHERE EVERYTHING’S SUPPOSED TO BE and if alec moves a single pen, magnus Will Know About It
in exchange he always keeps the door closed or spelled so alec doesn’t have to look at it
obviously there’s archery, which is something alec loves to do and practice, especially as he starts to get more into the bureaucratic parts of shadowhunting. he needs his bow and arrow to feel connected to himself and his body and safe, and he also has his own practicing room. magnus can do archery fine, but it’s not really among his interests
magnus of course has his regular meetings with the immortal squad and his breakfasts with raphael :) not that raphael isn’t part of the immortal squad but they also enjoy having a time just for the two of them. they are father and son after all, and besides, they lived together for quite a while, and the dynamics of them versus them + ragnor + cat are different
while magnus loves taking alec with him in his trips and to art galleries and out to eat in great restaurants and shit, they both know it’s something that alec, while very curious to know about, does not appreciate the same way that he does. not more or less, just, differently. if they go to an art gallery, magnus is gonna be looking at every piece and musing and maybe talking about the painters of x and y movement that he knew, and analyzing the technique or whatever. alec is less interested in the paintings themselves and more in the artists, what their life was like, what the period/place they lived in was like, how that shaped their art, you know? like he’s just not a very visual person haha me projecting never so what interests him is more outside of the paintings than inside. so even when they go to these places together, they’re just having completely different experiences? and a lot of the time they end up straying and meeting each other later, where they’ll chat and generally be ridiculous. but the both of them also enjoy going to those on their own or with their friends who Get It, you know? because again just completely different rhythms and interests and stuff
i feel like they both enjoy trashy television, but like, in completely different ways? like magnus loves him a terrible sitcom even if he’ll never admit it, where alec is more into like..... really bad and dramatic mystery shows
they both enjoy watching reality shows though. magnus wasn’t that huge on it before, but with alec? man, that’s a riot. he’ll judge absolutely everyone and make faces and just generally be fucking hilarious
ok i know that i’m talking about things they do together but my goal here is to talk about like... who they are and what their interests are individually, even if they are together, you know? and not like, As An Unit
magnus loves music and recitals and dance shows of all kinds. also, street art! i feel like that’s something him, cat, and maia have in common
speaking of cat; there are always His Cats. like sure they like alec fine but as soon as magnus is home they all immediately flock to him. it’s like alec never existed. goodbye, tall person
tbh i feel like raphael is totally an animals person and soon the dumort kind of turns into like, a sort of animal shelter? like magnus gives him the idea and all the vampires are naturally drawn to the idea of the dumort becoming a place for the strays of the world, especially if it means they get some company.... and maybe warm cuddles. anyway, my point is, magnus loves to visit the dumort and play with the cats and dogs that are there from time to time and he’s so proud of raphael and what he’s doing with the place and i just aaa :’) 
i feel like alec would have an interest in technology? like he’d be that bitch who Knows tech (probably started because of his job, but soon he found that he like, actually has an interest in it?) and who cleans his keyboard every day and only gets licensed programmes and takes care of his laptop like those guys who are weird about cars
lmao for some reason i can totally picture him and aline bonding over that? 
oh man alec would be into PUZZLES. word puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, the whole grandpa shit. he doesn’t do it often but when he does, he’s just At It. him and madzie can play with jigsaw puzzles for hours and wouldn’t remember to eat. she visits one day and is like I Got A 3D Puzzle and alec is just like neat! and they just sit down and do it until they have to be forced to bed or something. then at like precisely 6AM their eyes snap open like It’s A New Day, Puzzle Time and it just keeps being like this until they’re done
also there’s magnus’ morning routine, of course, especially since he doesn’t really have a schedule, and as sociable as he is he does enjoy some alone time to make himself some breakfast, do some tai chi, maybe read a book or comic, and all that. alec is just snoring the whole time completely passed out when it’s not a work day, tbh
okay that’s all i have actually doasdiad i hope it isn’t too much or disappointing or whatever. also, if anyone else wants to add their own headcanons for alec’s and magnus’ hobbies, feel free to do so :)
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spaceskam · 4 years
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hello, sweetie
day 3 of my 12 (actually 13) days of gifts! This one comes from an anon who sent me the following prompt awhile ago. This story is a lot of set up for an au that I hope to delve into a lot more into the future. Hope you enjoy!
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ao3
Alex Manes had dealt with a lot of shit in his life. Somehow, working with Private Max Evans was proving to be worse than it all.
“You’re going to lose a hand if you don’t stop,” Alex said with as little irritation as he could manage. It was still a lot. Max was trying so, so hard to be a macho strong man which Alex should’ve known would happen.
When Alex had been appointed this mission, he’d also been given the chance to reject any partner he’d been given. That was the whole benefit of being highly ranked. Still, he always felt bad whenever he saw the excited faces of the young Privates that so badly wanted to learn from him. He never wanted to steal it away. Even if that meant working with Max fucking Evans.
Currently, he was holding up a massive metal beam that was bolted down on one side and didn’t really need to be held up by the other side. Alex had tracked down the ambiguously titled Target beneath the beam that was covering something that looked like a locked submarine hatch. The beam didn’t need to be held up until after Alex figured out how to open the lock that was beneath it. Which meant, if Max’s arms gave out, he’d not only crush his hands but the lock as well. 
Basically, he was an idiot.
“I’ll suck it up, Sir.”
Alex sighed, “You know, when people tell me to ‘suck it up’, I feel the urge to break their legs and say ‘walk it off’. Are you going to walk off breaking your hands and ruining the mission, Private?”
Max looked up at him for a moment, hesitation all over his face. Then he very carefully put the beam down once again.
“I’m just trying to help, Sir.”
“I know, just… pace yourself,” Alex said, doing his very best to be patient with his shitty partner. Max somehow managed to look up at him while also being nearly a head taller. How were they the same age? “We don’t really know what’s down there, only that the Commissioner wants it brought back and safe and in one piece. We can’t crush the latch.”
“Yes, Sir, sorry.”
Alex ushered Max out of the way before carefully crouching down. The hatch was rusted and looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. It didn’t make sense. If there was something hidden in there for years, then why in the world was he only put on the case now? 
Or, perhaps it was one of those things that hadn’t been there until now.
You see, time was a funny little thing in his field. While most of the world didn’t notice little inconsistencies that came with time travel, his line of work involved years and years of training to spot the things that were inconsistent. Whenever most people recognized, it was simply a funny little thing that they remembered wrong. To him and people like him, it was a red flag of a Traveler fucking up.
Private Max Evans was a Traveler. It was a breed of human that could hop time at their will. People who couldn’t, Sedentaries, weren’t aware this was possible unless they went into the field of it. They wanted to keep it that way.
Centuries ago, or perhaps less, perhaps more, a Traveler named Henry Conleth had realized that things were impossible this way. Sedentaries were confused, things were changing, everyone was reckless. He, along with almost all the other Travelers, agreed to create a league of both Travelers and Sedentaries to protect the concept of time.
Now, centuries later or perhaps not, Alex Manes, a Sedentary, was working with a Traveler who had never traveled to look for a Target that was most likely a product of a far too experienced Traveler. 
“Max, what are the odds that this is actually a buried submarine?” Alex asked. Travelers in their Private stage were taught to memorize everything needed through history and the future which were simply the same thing in wrong directions.
“Um, unlikely,” Max said, “We’re in the middle of the midwest. There’s no bodies of water anywhere, nor have there been any bodies of water in this area since long before submarines were invented.”
Alex ran his finger over the rusted lock and then looked at the metal beam that seemed bolted and also partially buried. It was two separate things. Or, maybe not. Maybe it was deliberate. Or maybe the beam was always there and then something went awry with a rouge traveler. 
“Mm, and in the future?” Alex asked even though he already knew the answer. Max licked his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, searching his mind. Somehow, he got the one damn Private who didn’t find the future more interesting than the past. “Should I request someone else?”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head, “I think there might be a body of water here, but not for, like, centuries. Like a very long, long while.”
“But it’s possible?” Alex clarified. Max shrugged before nodding. “This thing probably popped up in the wrong place in time. My guess is a young Traveler got a little too excited.”
“You can travel with something as big as a submarine?” Max asked almost wistfully. Alex chuckled and decided not to answer. They didn’t teach them that. That led to crazy ideas.
Whoever moved this had one crazy idea.
“Alright, can you tell me, by this hatch, where this vessel might’ve come from? What year? What country?” Alex quizzed. Max’s whole face morphed into confusion.
“I’ve never studied submarines, I have no idea, Sir” he answered. Alex huffed.
“You should.”
Alex reached in his back and pulled out a small chisel, chipping away at the rust that covered the ridges and the locks. He tried his best to get the parts that even the beam was covering.
“From the looks of it to me, it’s a World War II era U-Boat,” Alex explained.
“I thought they were all sunk and raided,” Max said. Alex looked up at him and felt that very familiar chill of excitement that had been the exact reason he’d gotten into this field.
“They were,” he agreed, “And some Traveler went back and stole it.”
Alex chiseled away at it for a few minutes before Max got the hint and grabbed his own chisel. It took a while, but they eventually got all the rust out of the creases in the lock and the opening port. Alex dug in his bag for a screwdriver.
“So, whenever you learn how to travel, this part will be easier,” Alex said, “You can just go back, steal the key for it, and then bring it back to the precise time you stole it from.”
“I can’t wait, Sir.”
“Yeah, just don’t get caught.”
He fiddled with the lock for far too long, more trying to will it open than actually being successful. It was an old lock and wasn’t a fan of being tampered with and Alex could see the way the thinner metals around the lock were bending to his efforts. It made him a bit anxious about the insides.
But then they heard a click.
“Hurry, move the beam,” Alex instructed, preparing to wedge a flashlight between his teeth. Max did as he was told. “I’ll be down there for five minutes at the most. Can you hold it up for that long?”
“Absolutely, Sir,” Max said, nothing short of 100% dedication in his eyes. Alex believed him.
Carefully, Max lifted the beam and Alex opened the hatch as high as it would go. He had to slip in between it, holding too many things at once in an attempt not to fall or crush his hand. It was annoying at best.
Still, Alex made his way inside the dark sub and started his mental clock. Five minutes.
Alex took the flashlight out of his mouth and turned it on, searching the U-Boat for sign of, well, anything. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that he’d know when he found it. He moved quickly, looking for anything that screamed Traveler.
And that’s when he saw a body.
It was curled up in a ball on the floor, pressed into the wall. The person had a head full of dark curls that seemed wet and was wearing clothes that also looked like they were drenched. They also looked perfect for the time of a boy in 1930s Germany.
“Hello?” Alex called softly, “Are you conscious?”
Slowly, slowly, the boy lifted his head. His face was bruised and bloody, but his eyes held an all-knowing look Alex had only seen in very old Travelers. 
“Alex,” he said, his voice something so familiar that it was shocking to know that he had never heard it before. He took a step back. It was never a good sign for a stranger to know your name.
“Do I know you?” Alex said authoritatively.
The boy, as beaten and battered as he was, smiled.
“Not yet.”
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Reconnecting (Chapter Sixteen)
Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor X Reader
Word count: 2703
Summary: (Y/n) and Roger have been friends since the cradle. When they’re suddenly pulled apart and reconnected years later, they both can tell that the relationship has evolved. They lead very different lifestyles now. Can they continue what they had, or go for something more, with this gap between them?
Warnings: Cussing, drinking, I think that’s it? 
A/N: SORRY OMG this hasn’t been updated in forever. I think you’ll like this chapter though! Enjoy! 
Master list is in my profile description! You can find the previous part of this story and my other works there :) 
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~~~
“(Y/n)!” Roger screamed, throwing the door to his flat open, slamming it against the wall. He’d been at the studio all day, and you were this close to falling asleep when he arrived home.
You shrieked, shooting upwards. You held your hand to your heart, panting. “Roger Meddows Taylor, don’t fucking do that!”
“Sorry!” He plopped down onto the couch next to you, excitement evident on his face. “I figured it out!”
“Figured what out?” you asked, still trying to deal with the dump of adrenaline into your system.
“How you can stay with Queen!” You couldn’t think of a time you’d seen him this excited before.
Blinking, you repositioned yourself painfully. “Okay, let me hear it.”
“So you know how Paul is supposed to be a band assistant, but he’s mostly just Freddie’s assistant?” Roger was fidgeting around almost anxiously. You nodded. “Well, what if you were my assistant?”
You let out a small laugh. “Rog, that sounds great, but would everyone else be okay with it?”
“The only person who wasn’t thrilled at the idea was Paul, and his opinion is invalid.” Roger pulled you into a tight hug. “We’re gonna work together again! And you’ll be getting paid this time!”
“Roger I…” You stopped, putting your hand over your mouth and giggling. “This is great. I don’t know what to say.”
“Obviously you don’t have to go back to work tomorrow.” Roger ran a hand up and down your arm soothingly. “Whenever you’re ready, all of us will welcome you back with open arms.”
“Except Paul,” both of you said simultaneously. You both laughed, holding onto each other in happiness.
“Thank you, Roger.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek. Working with Queen was one of the greatest things to ever happen to you, and you were glad it didn’t have to end. “You’re amazing.”
He kissed the top of your head. “Learned it from you.”
You blushed, snuggling your face into his chest. “Stop, you know you’re great all on your own.”
“True, but I’d still be kind of sucky without you.” You laughed, pulling away and smacking him in the arm.
“Stop talking down on yourself!” you exclaimed.
“Okay!” he replied. He slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he looked at the TV. “What’re we watching?”
You shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. It just came on after Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”
“I missed Monty Python?!” Roger asked, pretending to be extremely upset. “Well damn it!”
“It’ll come on again.” You snuggled into him. “I’m really tired.”
Roger rubbed your arm. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”
You giggled. “Thanks Rog.” You yawned. “I’m gonna take a nap, don’t move. You’re comfy.”
“I don’t have anywhere I need to be.” Roger pulled you a little closer. “I’ll be here when you wake up, or if you have another nightmare. Just sleep tight.”
You closed your eyes, slipping off into the most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.
---
A week later and Roger couldn’t keep you home any longer. You were too restless and excited to get back to the studio. With an ice pack in hand, you slowly made your way out to Roger’s car, leaning on him to make sure you didn’t fall. The scar still hurt like hell, but it was much more manageable.
You walked into the studio, noticing the other band members all milling around, plus Paul. “Hey boys,” you said, already making your way over to the couch.
“(Y/n)!” they all shouted. Freddie ran up to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “Darling, it’s so good to have you back!”
“Good to see you too, Fred.” You gave him a pat on the back. “But this really hurts, please let go.”
“Oh!” He released you quickly. “Sorry dear. I’m just so happy!”
You smiled. “It’s great to be up on my feet again.” You looked around. “So, what are we doing?”
“More music.” Roger leaned against the wall. “You know, the usual band thing.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You gently sat down on the couch. “Tell me what I should do.”
“Just sit there and look pretty.” Roger bent down, placing a kiss on your forehead before walking into the sound booth.
“I’m capable of more than that!” you snapped. You knew he was right with the implications of his statement; you shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous, you shouldn’t even be out of bed. But you were done feeling so useless.
Freddie sat down next to you. “He just cares about you, darling,” he said softly. “He knows your capabilities, one hundred percent, he’s just worried you’ll hurt yourself again.”
“What exactly am I going to do in this studio that will horrifically injure me?” you asked jokingly.
Your best friend shrugged. “I don’t know, ask Deacy, he always seems to have things happen to him.”
At that moment, a loud crash was heard from across the room. You and Freddie swung your heads in that direction, seeing John standing there with his bass on the floor, the neck broken. He grimaced in pain. “That landed on my foot, but it’s fine.”
You chuckled. “Okay, I’ll stay away from John.”
“Good plan.” Freddie stood up, giving you a pat on the back.
---
Since you were finally back in action, the band decided to take you to dinner with them to celebrate. You all thought a cute little diner down the road sounded good, and that’s where you ended up once recording was done for the day.
Roger had his arm around your shoulder, holding you close. He was warm and a little sweaty from drumming so much, but you didn’t mind. You were just unbelievably glad to be back with everyone. These people were family to you; you loved all of them with your entire heart.
The diner had significant American influences, so most of the food was traditionally American. Freddie ordered cheeseburgers for everyone except Brian, who got a veggie burger. Once the food came, you began to scarf down the burger and the fries that came with it. You’d turned down lunch because you were in pain and weren’t hungry, but now you were starving.
“Slow down before you choke,” Roger joked, putting a fry in his mouth.
“Whatever,” you managed to say through a mouthful of food.
Roger chuckled. “You’re cute.”
“I know.” You smiled, your cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s.
“Oh!” Freddie exclaimed. “We forgot to tell you. We’re going on tour again!”
You blinked in surprise. “Wow, okay. Can I come?”
“We wouldn’t want to go without you.” You gave Roger a loving look.
You swallowed your bite of food. “When do we leave?”
Freddie thought for a second. “I believe it’s in two weeks, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it.”
Brian facepalmed. “This is something you really should know, Fred.”
The singer shrugged. “We’ll leave on time for this tour, I promise.”
“You said that last time and then we missed three flights.” John recoiled as Freddie smacked him in the chest.
You laughed. “Okay, Rog and I will head home after this and start packing.” Then, it hit you for the first time that you were, basically, living with Roger. You had no desire to go back to the flat you shared with James. The thought of being able to room with Roger for the rest of your life made you happy. You knew it likely wasn’t going to work out like that, but a girl could dream.
---
“Do you plan on shitting yourself twice a day?” Roger asked, staring at all the pairs of underwear you’d decided to pack.
“I don’t know, I could be on my period the whole time,” you reasoned.
“If you are, we’re going to the doctor.” Roger walked back over to his suitcase. “And we’ll be able to do laundry at least once a week, so don’t pack everything you own.”
You nodded, stuffing more underwear into your suitcase. “Duly noted.”
He rolled his eyes, staring at you lovingly when he knew you weren’t looking.
---
Everyone boarded the buses to Liverpool a few days before the show was actually scheduled. Freddie wanted to get there with plenty of time to spare, mostly so they’d have time to relax or go to bars and party.
“This bunk’s mine!” he exclaimed, throwing a large suitcase into one of the tiny top bunks. “Don’t touch.”
You chuckled. “Whatever you say, Fred.” You tossed your much smaller suitcase into the bunk across from his.
“And I guess I’m here,” Roger said, claiming the bunk below yours. “Brian and John can fight over those last two.”
Brian and John did not fight, but chose their bunks calmly before heading back out into the general kitchen area. Roger lay down in his bunk, sighing loudly.
“And now, we get to take a four hour drive to Liverpool.” He chuckled. “What are we gonna do in that time?”
You climbed into his bunk, snuggling into his chest. “Oh, I don’t know. I could use a nap.”
“You nap so much,” he joked, running a hand over your hair.
“It’s the injury,” you replied, yawning. “That’s just how it is. And I’ve been sedentary for over two months, so that’s also it.”
He nodded, closing his eyes. “I guess I could nap too.”
You shifted, getting a little more comfortable before closing your eyes as well. “Wake me up when we get there.”
“No problem, love.” He wrapped another arm around you. “Sleep tight.”
---
“What is he doing?” you asked, watching John dance in the middle of a throng of people.
Brian sighed. “You know, I’m not entirely sure.”
Roger returned to the table, holding several beers for everyone and a soda for you. “It’s party time!” he exclaimed.
You rolled your eyes. “You guys can’t get shit faced, we’re staying in a hotel tonight.”
Roger sighed. “A beer or two isn’t going to kill us. And we’re not going to trash any hotel rooms, don’t worry.”
You gave him a look. “I don’t believe you, but okay.”
“Smart choice,” Brian commented, earning a smack on the back of the head from Roger. “All right, all right. Roger only sometimes trashes hotel rooms.”
“I try to clean it up!” he retorted.
“No you don’t!” Freddie responded, chuckling. “You just take more shots in the morning and leave an even bigger mess.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Well, this time (Y/n)’s here, so I have to behave myself.”
Brian smiled. “Thank God the band mom’s here.”
You shook your head, chuckling a little. “If I’m band mom, your bed time’s at 10:00.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “On second thought, maybe you’re just the good mom friend that brings snacks to us when we’re still awake in the early hours of the morning.”
Roger huffed. “Nice.”
You nodded. “Sure, whatever.” You took a sip of soda. “But we’re leaving before midnight.”
“But that’s when all the fun begins!” Freddie exclaimed.
“Then I’m leaving before midnight,” you amended.
“And I’ll leave with her,” Roger said, setting down his half-full glass of beer.
You gave him a small smile. “You don’t have to.”
He gently placed a hand on your cheek before retracting it quickly. “But I want to.”
You grabbed the hand that touched your cheek, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you,” you said quietly, so only he could hear it.
Blushing, Roger placed a soft kiss onto your knuckles. “Anything for you.”
---
A few hours later, right before midnight, you walked with a tipsy Roger back to the hotel. It was a short walk, but the still-tender muscles in your abdomen were already sore by the time you reached the lobby.
“All right, let’s just get the key and go to bed.” You made your way up to the counter, leaving Roger to look at a large fish tank and giggle at the goofy things the fish were supposedly saying to each other. You gave the desk worker an apologetic look before speaking. “I think they made a reservation, probably under the name Mercury?”
The worker looked down at her book of reservations. “Yes, there are five rooms reserved?”
You nodded as Roger came up behind you, still giggling. “Ma’am, we’re only going to need four rooms,” he said.
You frowned. “Who’s sharing a room?”
“We are.” He grabbed the key from the woman, making his way down the hall towards the elevators. You hurried to catch up to him so he didn’t press all the buttons.
Once the door closed, you sighed. You didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of having a room to yourself was terrifying; what if James escaped from prison and found you? You knew the thoughts were irrational, but you couldn’t help but think about them.
“What’s on your mind?” Roger asked quietly.
You shook your head. “I’m just...glad we’re sharing a room. Should be fun.”
He nodded, smiling. “We can watch cartoons and order room service and steal the little soaps in the bathroom.”
You smiled back, rolling your eyes. “Roger, we can’t steal from the hotel.”
The door to the elevator opened on your floor. “It’s not stealing if they leave them out like that in plastic packaging! That means they can go in suitcases!”
“Okay, you can take a bar of soap,” you conceded.
“Yessssss,” he hissed as he put the key in the lock. The door swung open, revealing a beautiful suite with two queen sized beds, two couches, a desk, and a television.
“Wow,” you said. “Freddie outdid himself with picking the hotel.”
“Nothing less for one of the best music groups in the world.” Roger flopped down onto one of the beds, holding his arms out to you. “Come here. Snuggles.”
You happily obliged, laying down in his arms and placing your head on his chest. “My favorite pillow,” you murmured.
He kissed the top of your head, seeming contemplative. “Hey, (Y/n)?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
You felt his heart rate go up. “Can I kiss you?”
You moved your head up to look at him. His pupils were dilated, either from the darkness of the room or endearment, you couldn’t tell. You nodded slowly, biting your lower lip.
Roger cupped your face and brought it to his, pressing his warm, lovely lips to yours. You splayed your hand across his chest, pushing yourself up into him further. He pulled away shortly afterward, wrapping an arm around you and placing his hand on the small of your back, holding your body against his. “Will...will you be my girlfriend?”
You gasped quietly, surprised by the sudden question. Logically, you figured it would be coming, but it still threw you off. But only briefly, before you grabbed his face and collided your lips against his, causing his new sentence to die in his throat. He wrapped his other arm around you, rolling over so you were completely on top of him. You used your fingers to explore the features of his face, his sharp jaw, the curve of his nose, the orbs of his eyes, covered by his soft eyelids. You dug your hands into his hair, twisting the blond locks around your fingers. He held onto your waist, never wanting to let you go.
You pulled away eventually, breathing heavily and blushing greatly. You never thought you’d be in a position like this. Sure, you’d kissed Roger before, but you’d never allowed yourself to enjoy it like this. This was the first time you’d kissed Roger and were able to think about doing it again.
“Yes,” you whispered. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
Roger held you close to him, burying his face in your hair. “I’m so happy.”
“I am too.”
The two of you lay there for hours, placing soft kisses onto each other every once in a while. Eventually, you heard the other boys stumbling down the hall, drunk off their asses, but it didn’t matter. It was almost as if you and Roger were in your own little world, oblivious to everything outside of the luxurious hotel room where the next step of your relationship began.
Taglist:
@thessxoxo @roger-bang-the-drum @slavsher @sabbrrriinnaa @i-ship-it-ironically @blissfully-queen @oyoke @borhapqueen92@girlpluto @secretsweetscollectionblog @bentaylorrogerhardy@16wiishes @emmieliabedelia @onevisionliz @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @cosmicsskies @thewinchesterchronicles @florenceivy @benhardyseyes @letmelivetaylor @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @holding-onto-cas (I think that’s everyone???) 
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rayonfrozenwings · 5 years
Text
Waiting in the Freezing Dark: Chapter 8 - Illyrian Blades
Spoiler Alert: Contains references to ACOFAS.
Authors Note: So it’s been a very long hiatus, because Kingdom of Ash destroyed me and stole all my creative energy. But I have 5 new chapters that I will post soon. :D
A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS. The story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court. 
Chapter 8 - Illyrian Blades 
Previous chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 7 and Masterlist here.
I have also put this on AO3: Series Link  :)
WC: 2538
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Chapter 8 - Illyrian Blades Nesta
Nesta awoke slowly, sleep clinging to the edges of her eyes and assessed her surroundings, her bedroom stared back at her, that voice inside asking her, ‘where else would she be?’ It had become a habit, never sure of what was a dream and what was reality. It was surprisingly comforting to know exactly where you were and that you were safe.
Stretching like a cat in the sun, Nesta rose, grabbed her clothing and headed for the bathroom. She would avoid a bath today, using her washcloth instead, no point in torturing herself if she didn't have to. The small stash of perfumed soap she had acquired in Velaris was lasting well, one of the perks of leading a sedentary lifestyle - she needed ways to avoid being submerged each day and the zesty smelling soap did the trick. At least for now, she had an eternity to figure out how to have a bath.
Ready for the day, Nesta walked into the main room and remembered - he was gone.
The hollowness entered her again.
He was a big dumb bat! She didn’t need to feel this way. Grabbing her bag and book she took off and walked up the winding road Emerie’s.
Nesta had been reading the illyrian history book well into the night and early morning. Surprisingly it was more interesting than she thought it would be. A lot of statements rang false to her ears, but she couldn’t explain why except to say she knew that they were wrong. They say history is written by the victors and it seemed the illyrians won more than they lost, but the ways they won didn't seem to be accurately recorded. Lies fought for freedom, jumping off the page like they had been held against their will. A convenient facet of her power, finding things that didn't want to be found; taking notice of things that didn't want you to take notice, seeing the truth behind a glamour. The history book was captivating and something she would keep looking into and something that she would listen carefully to, find out what the truth really was. Maybe it was just a fantasy novel hidden in between the pages and had no history to it at all.
Female Warriors walked down to the training ring, Nesta eyed them up and down, chin raising in disapproval as she passed - a seemingly late start for them since they were supposed to be training with the males and they started at dawn. She couldn’t help but think that they were wasting an opportunity. One of them smiled at Nesta and the second one crashed into her shoulder while passing as neither her or the illyrian had given way to the other.  Nesta watched them go, silently cursing them and hoping they received their due in the training ring.
Their illyrian leathers appeared to be of an older style; older than anything she had seen Cassian or Azriel wear, clumsy and large. Possibly even made for the males as they didn’t seem to fit their bodies quite right. How on earth were they meant to train if their armor didn’t fit correctly? Nesta could feel her anger rise, females being treated as less than the males. Temper rising with the bile in her throat at the injustice.
The world tipped and the ground came up to meet her, a hand shot out and grabbed her, the smell of leather taking over her senses, protecting her from falling flat on her face. Nesta turned and looked to her saviour. A beautiful illyrian with warm brown skin and golden eyes was holding her still, the muscles corded in her lean arm from the effort. Nesta blushed and stood quickly, brushing her skirts down.
“Thank you,” she quickly huffed out, her heart still racing from her fall. The female just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Next time you really should look ahead - you know,” she made a pointing gesture ahead of her with her hand, “at where you are going.”
The smile she wore was brilliant, her perfect teeth gleamed and a pair of slightly elongated canines caught Nesta’s attention, like this warrior was about to devour her prey and Nesta struggled to take a breath.
“Or perhaps you rather like gawking at us all walking down the street? Are we really that damn attractive? I’ve seen a few good asses in my time, but none of these lot have what I would call a perfect one.”
Nesta’s shock flashed across her face, she hadn’t had the chance to meet many illyrian females as they were always busy with chores or training, Emerie was an exception as she didn’t train. It was the first time in a while that Nesta had no words. Her grey eyes wide and open trying to figure out the situation.
“Look, I can stand here and look stunning all day, but I actually have somewhere to be... and I’m already running late, so i’m just going to go and catch up with the others. I won’t mind if you watch me walk away.” She said with laughter in her voice and off she went down the street, with Nesta watching her go, still stunned in silence.
Emerie
Emerie had been waiting for Nesta to arrive all morning. She wasn't a gossip but needed to know how her talk with Cassian went, especially if she was going to ask him for a favour. Having Nesta and him on good terms would make it infinitely easier than if they were at war.
Mara had been in earlier, trying to persuade Emerie to join her in the training ring but it just wasn't convenient. Her friend just could not see it from Emerie’s point of view no matter how often she told her. She found it hard to see what held Emerie back, Mara had jumped at the opportunity to train, why didn’t Emerie? And although Emerie was technically in the same position, the shop and her ambitions meant she needed to bide her time. So Mara left and caught up with the others, Emerie tidied the shop and promised her that she would meet up later, which only made Mara grin as she skipped out the door.
The bell above the door rang and Emerie turned from her cleaning and thoughts, Nesta was standing in the doorway like a plank of wood. No expression and body rigid.
“It’s not that cold today Nes, it’s warming up. Stop being a drama queen.”
“I just… I’m just trying to think”
“Think?” Emerie laughed.
“I just, I don’t know what just happened.”
“What?”
Nesta blushed and shut the door, quickly coming inside and explaining what happened. Leaving out a lot of the details. In fact nesta really only told emerie two things, that she tripped and that someone stopped her from falling flat on her face.
“That’s it?” Emerie asked, with an eyebrow raised.
“It was mortifying.” Nesta calmly reiterated.
“Nesta, sometimes we trip and fall and we actually hit the ground, you should be happy someone helped you.” She shook her head at Nesta’s stubbornness, “Sometimes you don’t make any sense, so new topic, how did the talk with Cassian go?”
“I thought you were going to tell me about your blades?” Nesta replied calmly.
“Only if you tell me about your talk.”
“If I remember it correctly, you just said I needed to go home and talk to him, but he actually wasn't at home, so it was impossible for me to perform the task and therefore no longer a requirement for you to tell me about the blades.”
“So where is he?”
“I don’t know. Don’t change the subject.” Nesta snipped.
Emerie looked her friend over and saw the rawness there still. There was something more she wasn’t saying but Nesta was never one to give up secrets, especially her own.
“Fine, do you want a drink first? Or can I get you working for me while I tell you the story?”
“I’ll clean but the story better be good!”
So Nesta and Emerie cleaned the bookshelves near the fire where black soot from the flames had built up before escaping out the chimney, and Emerie told her about the blades. Blades that she had had commissioned after her wings were clipped. After she realised that a female might need more protection than that which was offered by males. Males who held no loyalty to her. The blades had not seen a war yet or even been used for protection but they had been used in training and polished to a high shine.
“I have two fighting blades, I trained with my friends Mara and Ceinwen in the forest near the north edge of town, there is a place right before the mountain ridges form. It’s quiet and no-one but us goes there,” Emerie continued.
“When did you last train? It’s just that I haven’t seen you leave the shop and I would like to think that I noticed if you stunk up the place.” Nesta’s tact needed improving, there was a reason she kept her thoughts to herself. When she shared them she was seen as blunt and unfeeling.
“Not since the war” not since her father died Emerie wanted to say.
“Do you miss it?” Nesta raised her chin and looked at Emerie with her grey blue stare, the frosty depths seeing the truth.
“Everyday”
“Why?”
“Why do I do it? Well, when I was clipped, there was a scene, I didn’t go quietly, and that is the short version.” a lump caught in Emerie’s throat, when she was usually so sure of herself, this was a story so few knew. Then she said very quietly “No one should be forced at the hands of another, and I never. Never will be again.”
Nesta’s eyes turned glossy and distant, then quietly she said,
“I meant why haven’t you been training?”
“It’s not easy now, to make time.” she gestured to the shop around them.
“I will help you.”
“How?” the word came out on a wisp of air.
“I will make sure you can train, and that you treat people the way they truly deserve to be treated.” Nesta’s eyes had milky swirls gliding over the grey-blue and her voice didn't seem to be her own. Like some god possessed her swearing an oath. Emerie would never admit it but she was actually a little in awe of Nesta in this moment. This side to her she had only heard about but never seen. A rumor that came back from the war. The warrior witch who fought Hybern.   “But how?”
Nesta looked up at her again, the silver shadows dissapaiting and Nesta’s eyes were left as they once were.
“I ask.”
Nesta
Nesta and Emerie spent the day together, cleaning some more, and discussing ways they might enable Emerie to join the training with the other females. The hurdle of “who would look after the shop” always remained. Nesta wasn’t illyrian and it was hard enough getting customers, so the shop would still be run by Emerie during the day with shorter hours of availability. After much discussion and back and forth they realised training would need to remain secret and occur in the early evenings, the sun was staying in the sky longer, laying the way for more daylight later in the day. It worked to Nesta’s advantage as well. Having had no training of her own she would learn from Emerie and prepare herself for the day when Cassian left her alone. It was great living with an illyrian warrior but she was under no illusion that it would last. Especially since their fight. Emerie thought she might also be able to rope in Mara and Ceinwen, her friends in the camp, to join their training. Giving them some extra practise, and passing on what they learned from their day practices with the males. It all started coming together. The best part of this plan was that is was all coming together without the help of a certain overgrown bat. Emerie closed up the store early and made dinner, Nesta deciding to stay because she never did make it to the market.
It was peaceful, and pleasant, and just like the easy calm she had settled into with Cassian in their own home. She missed him… or maybe she just missed the idea of him?
The ladies finished dinner and sat down with some port, the wine was too awful last night to try a repeat performance today.
“Do you know much about illyrian history?” Nesta asked.
“I know a little, why do you ask?”
“I was reading a boo- “
“Of course you were.” Emerie interrupted, rolling her eyes.
“Let me finish! I was reading a book about illyrian history and it just seems so wrong. It feels wrong.”
“Do you have it with you?”
Nesta went and got the book out of her bag and gave it to Emerie, Emerie’s eyes lit up and she opened the book with awe.
“Why are you looking at it like that?”
“This book is the High Lords book.”
“So?”
“High Lords have books that show things as they want them to be. I mean that the books are history according to them, if it feels wrong, then the history they are passing down isn’t an accurate history of what really happened.”
“I see, that would explain why it feels like lies are slithering across the pages. How do illyrians keep their history then, if not in books? This was the only one I could find on the topic in our house.”
“We tell stories. Pass them down. Talk about heroic feats and celebrate our greatness”
“That seems a little arrogant”
“Have you ever met an illyrian who wasn’t arrogant?”
Nesta looked back at her friend who had that same grin as the female earlier, lighting up her whole face.
“Maybe if you weren’t all so beautiful you wouldn’t be so arrogant!”
Emerie let out a great laugh, “Maybe” was all she said as she went back to drinking her port and picked up her own book to read. Nesta continued to flick through the illyrian history book, getting angrier at what she read. Time ticked on and Emerie was still immersed in her book when Nesta asked,
“Will you tell me?” looking up at Emerie.
“Tell you what?”
“The history?”
Emerie closed her book, “There’s quite a bit, and it’s not usually for the females to tell.” she evaded. “The storytellers get to share the exploits of great heroes, for us all to stand in awe and feel grateful that the mighty male illyrians who came before us have done such amazing things. I wouldn’t be able to share them here incase someone came in.”
“Tell me them at training, I feel like I need to know.”
Emerie looked at Nesta and smiled, tongue in cheek she said “sure, but just remember i’m only a female and I don’t know how to tell it right.”
Nesta laughed and put the history book back in her bag, and packed up ready to go, before the darkness well and truly descended.
Tagged by request: Sorry if some of the urls are wrong.. its been a while since I updated this fic, urls have changed its been so long lol,  just let me know via ask if you want to be added or removed from my tag list for this. :) @fucking-winchester-trash @rhysanoodle @velarxs @lorcanswife @my-fan-side @wolffrising @bellsqueen @aelinashgalathynius @booksaremymate@themoonunderstoodmynightmares @prxthian @nessian-girl @fuzz-dog @archeron-queens @acotar-feels @wickedfangirl99 @empress-ofbloodshed@ame233 @tswaney17 @kefeira @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @abillionlittlepieces@ofstarsanddreams @booksaremymate @ambrosemiller@saltydreamcollector @imfandomtrash-vi @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @pinkjem30   @urbisie, @howtotameyourillyrian, @illyrianbeauty, @fae-queen-of-the-easton, @faeriequeenofthewest, @aqueentorattlestars, @acoaas @nephelle-warrior-scribe @librarian-of-orynth @anoverstuffedkindle, @miladyaelin, @acoaas, @tntwme @photofeesh @theyretheirthere
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muses-of-creation · 5 years
Text
Thiefs
Our job was simple. Stealing magical artifacts from dangerous people and trying to not get killed or captured by a organization called Holy Trinity. Everything was going smoothly, until two devil hunters have butted in our job claiming we were demons. This is about a story about how a wizard and a necromancer got themselves into troubles with the two most dangerous devil hunters.
You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566482
Good reading~.
Dante had gotten a new job from Morrison. As much as he wanted to refuse it, Morrison again decided to cancel all pizza orders until he paid the bill in full. To add, Lady too had arrived, and made even more pressure, because of the debts Dante still owed her. With no choice, he went to the mansion Morrison had told him.
Much to his surprise, as he was approaching the mansion, he met an unexpected person. Nero was there, too. Dante greeted him “Hey Kid! What are you doing here?”
Nero sighed in a mixture of irritation and annoyance at the sight of Dante and said “A job. I hope you're not here for the same.”
"So it looks like we're going to have to work together because I have a job here, too." Dante announced, pointing to the mansion.
"Aren’t you too old to take jobs? You should be reforming soon.” Nero retorted not happy with the news.
"And miss all the fun? Do not even think about it. Rest assured I can still play with you. You don’t need to worry.” Said Dante back.
“Go back to sleep old man. I think you're already dreaming.” Said Nero, turning more and more irritated, walking to the gate of the mansion.
Dante laughed and followed him, ending up messing his hair up like Nero was a little kid. That was the end for Nero. If there weren’t so many people on the streets Nero had already started a fight there with Dante, which was what Dante probably wanted, but Nero wouldn’t let him win. He took Dante's arm by the wrist with Devil Bringer and warned him “You do that again, and I’ll rip your arm off.”
“You're in a bad mood, Kid.” Dante observed "recovering" his arm. "Kyrie is not satisfying you, or something like that?"
This made Nero very frustrated with such a question, especially since Dante was not ashamed to say such things wherever he went. Eventually Dante saw Nero’s face the color of his coat. To Nero's great salvation, a butler came to greet them at the gate, thus ending that conversation.
"Please come with me. My master is already waiting for you.” The butler announced with a bow.
Then he turned his back and began to guide them, first through the house, and then to the master's office.
"This rich people don’t have nothing else to do with money." Dante remarked as he watched the house, which was quite rich in pieces of art, but the architecture itself was rich.
“I just hope the work pays well.” Nero thought loudly, with little desire in having to share the reward.
Waiting for them was a man in front of a window. He wasn’t too tall, already old, probably in his seventies, almost eighty years. But he still had short brown hair, a little bald though. He was thin and wore round glasses with a golden wire frame. His eyes were already of a very dull green and he was dressed in a suit, leaning on a cane, which was equally rich, with embed designs and precious or semiprecious stones, like his collection and house.
As soon as he saw his guests, he smiled at them and asked for them to sit down, and they did it.
“Thank you very much for accepting my invitation. Can I offer you something?” Asked the man, in a sympathetic tone.
"If it's not too troublesome, we'd rather go into the details." Dante answered, trying not to be rude, which he failed miserably.
“Of course.” The man nodded, making a sign to the butler, who brought a box with a bracelet that looked quite simple with a pink stone in the center and the rest made of silver. "I got this recently, but I'm afraid about what might happen to it.”
"It sounds simple enough.” Nero remarked in his ignorance.
"That's because you don’t know the true value of it." said the man in a rather rude manner, as well as incredulous with his ignorance.
"Are you saying the bracelet is cursed?" Nero tried to figure it out.
“Nothing like that. And it's a bangle bracelet, not just a bracelet.” Corrected the man. "It may not seem so, but despite its simple appearance, behind it hides a great power. Because of this I fear that it will catch the eye of demons.
“As well?” This time it was Dante who asked, because he didn’t see where the man wanted to go either.
"Haven’t you heard of the demons who steal artifacts? Usually are two, but sometimes four.” Said the man. "I've heard several stories, and several of my friends have been stolen by them.”
"I'm sorry, but we kill demons, we don’t catch thieves. So… you should go to the police.” Commented Dante.
"I don’t think I'm explaining myself well then." The man looked a little unhappy. “Everything happens supernaturally.”
"You'll have to do better if you want to convince us that these thieves are demons." Nero announced.
“I can see it. Usually they’re never seen, very strange things happen when they steal the pieces, like sudden descents of temperatures...” the man began.
"Now it looks like we're talking about ghosts. Not yet our category.” Interrupted Dante.
"No. To solve this, they need an exorcist.” Completed Nero.
The man took a deep breath trying to not to get angry and continued his explanation, as if they hadn’t said anything. "The security systems don’t pick up anything, but the piece from one moment to the other disappears.”
"They still look like ghosts to me." Dante interrupted the man again.
“Can you let me finish?!” Asked the man already angry, eventually losing all his composure.
Both Dante and Nero were silent. The man cleared his throat and continued what he was saying "When they’re confronted, they usually kill everyone in a real bloodbath, or in a rather painful way, like burned alive, melted with poison, among other types of deaths, which have been recorded. No matter what you try, they always end up having what they want. And as they appear, they disappear without leaving any trace.”
“Registered? Are you saying they recorded all the deaths that happened?” Asked Nero, somewhat surprised.
"Yes, just like the robbery happened. If you want, I can give you those records.” Said the man.
"Then let us see those records, and then we'll talk." Asked Dante not believing the man's word.
The man gave the butler a new signal and he fetched a tablet with all the videos and files that had been spoken. The butler handed them the tablet and Nero picked it up so they could see. After watching the videos, they were practically convinced.
"I'll pay you whatever you need for your services. But please get rid of them. It has been very difficult to live in the Art Market in this way.” Asked the man again, half desperate for not being able to see if they would accept it or not.
“Worth trying.” Decided Nero.
“As long as I receive my reward in the end…It's fine by me.” Dante agreed.
And so, they sealed the deal there. All that was left was to know when the attack was going to take place.
 §§§§§
I was surfing in the internet when I got new information about a magical artifact that had recently moved. I saw everything that was accompanying the photograph of the artifact. As always came with the purchase invoice of the object, which ended up giving the rest of the information. From the invoice I looked for the rest and found the place where the person lived, only needed to do the rest of the recognition, including see if Inna was interested too.
As soon as she reached the cafe, where we had arranged to meet, I turned the computer over to her and announced “Just look at what just came.”
“Uh ~. New artifact?” She asked excited.
“Yup. I haven’t yet seen which artifact is, or what it does, but I’ve already found who has it and where it lives.” I told her.
"Then we must deal with the rest." Inna decided.
"I was just waiting to see if you'd be interested in participating." I said.
“Of course, I am. It's been a while since the last.” Said Inna clearly annoyed.
“Unfortunately, or fortunately this is how this market works.” I nodded.
“Tonight?” She asked, referring to the house of the new owner of the artifact to analyze the situation and how we would make the robbery plan.
“Sure.” I nodded.
“By the way. Do you think the Holy Trinity is also behind this one?” Asked Inna. "He seems to be one of those who, though simple, is very powerful."
“That's because it is. We'll probably have some fun.” I concluded with a smile.
“I hope so. I need to exercise a little.” Said Inna, smiling, pleased with the novelty.
I laughed and commented “I thought you had become sedentary.”
“Look who's talking.” She retorted. “Just because of this, I give up being sedentary. I hope at least someday I'll find that damn artifact.”
"I'm sure we'll find it sooner or later. Aside from that Catherine and Asura also have an eye on it.” I said.
"Yes. Although they prefer to go around killing demons, rather than artifacts.” Inna wasn’t very confident in them.
"In the end, we're going to be adventurers like Lara Croft, or Nathan Drake." I tried to cheer her up.
“Indiana Jones to by the way.” Added Inna.
“Of course. Who refuses such an adventure?” I asked.
We laughed and we still spent time at the cafe, not only to enjoy the excellent cakes they had, but also the drinks, because they’re divine. In the meantime, we also made more research not only on the artifact itself, but also on the man and his own house.
Ah! Do you want to know the name of the rich man? Fine. His name is Arthur Smith. A not very sociable man who lived basically from his large private collection of art, always looking for more. That's how he got the artifact. The artifact was going to be auctioned, but because he knew the auctioneer, he got it before it was even announced for the next auction, so there were no records of it.
The Magic Academy was where I got the information. It is an organization of protection of magical artifacts, that tries to find them and to surrender them to its rightful owners, or to whom they must belong. Trying to the maximum that they’re used by the wrong people, or even coming into the hands of demons, or the Holy Trinity.
The Holy Trinity is basically the opposite of the former. All that matters to them is to have the power and the maximum knowledge possible to serve their own ends. Thanks to this, we came across them a lot of times and things didn’t go very well, because usually they ended up dead. This made us targets for them. They aren’t only interested in artefacts, but also work with demons, even protect them. Nothing that seemed like the relationship of necromancers with their demons.
Usually the artifacts we steal are already in someone's hands. Even if someone doesn’t know the power he has in his hands. In these cases, the Magic Academy usually deals with these people and ends up giving you an even more valuable offer than the artifact has for these people, only when the Trinity interferes is when someone has to steal it.
Usually it's just me and Inna who do this, but there are two other girls who sometimes help us, Catherine and Asura. Sometimes we end up with the artifacts, because we liked them, the ones we did not like, we give them to the Magic Academy, just the way they wanted it, since they don’t know everything we steal.
We started this because each of us is looking for a specific artifact. In the case of the Inna, is one that is useful to her, because it is an artifact for necromancers that had been in the possession of her master / father, but eventually disappeared. And mine, is one that is specific to me, a wizard, that by chance my grandpa had been looking for him for a long time.
As agreed, that evening, we met at Arthur Smith's house and began to see how we were going to prepare the plan. See what kind of security the house had, how could we get into the grounds where the house was, in which part of the house was the artifact. That kind of boring stuff.
Unfortunately, it took us longer than we’d thought, and it took all night for that because it’s huge. The artifact was in what we took to be a secret mini-library. While I was checking the security where the box was, Inna began to walk, to see what could be there of interest to steal. She reached the desk there and saw an envelope on the table with a seal, which she recognized immediately.
“Rin-chan. Look at this.” Said Inna, showing me the envelope seal.
“Holy Trinity.” I said as soon as I saw the design of the seal.
"It seems that this gentleman here has connections with them." Inna concluded.
“Yeah. I just hope it gives us enough time to steal this.” I said.
"Unfortunately, I cannot say that. Only the envelope is here.” Inna observed. "But that just means we're going to have to steal it tomorrow."
I agreed and we finished everything we had to do there. Now that we had everything done it was easy to draw the plan and we could put it into practice the next night.
The next night we met at the point that had been marked as the meeting place. This time we were fully prepared to make the assault. We even had brought our firearms, which they usually have magical ammunition, because if there were human beings ignorant of the dark edge of the world, we could not use magic to deal with them. The most troublesome would be if the Holy Trinity appeared, after all the work we’d done to be the ones claiming the prize, but in a situation like that, we could use magic at will.
Inna had Lapuree with her to serve as a flying watchman, who was a dragon demon still small, but looked more like a butterfly demon. I did all the spells I knew so we wouldn’t be easily noticed and we could go into the woods and head for the house. Fortunately, everything was as before, which meant that we hadn’t been noticed the night before, and there was still no sign of the Holy Trinity.
We entered the secret mini-library carefully and there was nothing different from yesterday. I took the gadget out of the box and slipped it into a concealed coat pocket, where I was sure nothing was going to happen to it. After this we hastened to get out of there.
We were once again walking through the forest toward our exit, when shots were fired in our direction from our two sides. Luckily Lapuree was more noticeable than us and warned us, giving us enough time to get away. It wasn’t normal to leave anyone to tell the story, much less someone who had noticed us like that, which meant that they couldn’t be normal humans.
We changed our trajectory and shortly after we reached a glade, we stopped with our backs to each other, in the center. We grabbed our firearms, in the case of Inna a shotgun, and in my case one of the pistols, and each one of us pointed at his sniper.
They came out of the forest with their guns pointed at us, too, but they did not fire. They were two white-haired men, but one was older and had a very stylish red coat, and the other was younger and had a shiny arm.
Lapuree was sitting on Inna's head. She made a few sounds, which meant she had something to say, but only Inna noticed and understood.
"She said one of them is half demon, and the other is only a quarter." She translated Lapuree so I could understand.
That was in the minimum curious, and I bet Inna thought the same thing. But there was no time to think about it. They advanced toward us, until they saw a pleasant distance of safety. We watched them, trying to read what their next step was.
“Look that! It's just two girls.” Said the man in a red coat, clearly happy, but in a tone that seemed to degrade us.
"Let's see if these girls can’t be smarter than you”. Inna threatened, disliking his tone.
One thing was for sure, our main goal was to get away. We could not afford to take too long, otherwise the Holy Trinity would appear and make everything more complicated.
“Calm down, babe.” Asked the man, laughing at her attitude.
Inna liked even less than he said this time, eventually giving a shotgun shot, which passed close to his head, since the goal was not to kill him until he proved what they were.
“Don’t call me that!” She warned him.
In response the man whistled and made another comment, but was interrupted by the other man with the luminous arm "Yet they are demons and they are our targets.”
“Devils?” We both asked, clearly confused by the revelation.
But instead of someone giving us an explanation, the man in the red coat said “You're no fun Kid. Here we are. With two cute girls and you don’t care.”
"And one of them has already shot you and is still pointing a gun at you." He twitched the other rolling his eyes.
"I knew I should have shot him in the head.” Said Inna more and more annoyed that we were wasting time there. “Can I kill him?”
“No.” I answered. “That's not what we’re here for”.
"So, we created a new goal.” Inna tried again.
"That will only make us wasting more time." I protested.
"Let's try to do things well.” Said the man in the red coat. "You give us what you have stolen and you can come back to your life.”
"They are demons. You never can get things right.” Retorted the other.
“This is ridiculous.” I announced with a sigh because they continued to call us demons.
“At least we have two hot guys following us.” Commented Inna.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“What? We'll never have such handsome men behind us except for this.” She twisted, seizing the moment for a few seconds.
“Can we go now?” I asked already annoyed.
“Sure.” Inna agreed.
"No." said the two men.
“Fine.” We said both at the same time.
But we didn’t want to know what they wanted, or they didn’t want to. As a distraction we put down our weapons. Just when they were distracted by it, it was time for us to run again in different directions, to get out of there. Still they responded quickly, eventually intercepting us again.
“Already leaving us? The party is about to start.” Commented the man in the red coat to Inna.
“Sorry, but we have to attend another one.” Inna answered with a fake smile, bringing up her naginata, to see if she could make a way to go.
“I won’t let you go.” Said the other man who stopped me.
“Oh yeah? I want to see you try.” I turned back in a defiant tone and smiled, making my sword appear.
They also took each one their swords and we started a fight. If we did a battle of skill and strength, they won clearly, but that wasn’t our fighting style, either. Inna called one of her demons, Alvaro, who was a gunslinger, which made the man in the red coat protest “That's not fair.”
Except that the moment he finished speaking, he was shot in the middle of the forehead by Alvaro.
“Alvaro!” Protested Inna.
"Lady, I know that's what you wanted to do from the start” Alvaro declared with a smile.
“That hurts!” Protested the man in the red coat rubbing his forehead.
This was something that surprised her immensely, because he was supposed to be death, but there he was as if he’d never been shot in the head. They returned to fight each other, but this time Inna began to use also magic to fight, being able to stand better against him.
In my case I started to use the elements in my favor, starting with fire. He was avoiding everything, but my goal was not to hit him, it was too warm his sword hilt. It worked because he finally dropped his sword. This gave me the opportunity I expected, to make my next attack. What I wasn’t expecting was that he would defend himself with the luminous arm, as if it were nothing.
“Let's get this over with.” He said, opening and closing his hand, which now I could see it wasn’t human.
He was going to attack with that little hand from the distance we were, so I formed a shield, defending his attack still with some ease.
“Interesting.” I watched his arm with a smile. "That's really interesting."
“Do you want to taste it?” He asked as he attacked me again.
“If you can get it right.” I challenged him again, this time diverting.
We weren’t going anywhere if we continued this way. Unlike them, we were growing tired and we were already feeling the consequences of it, eventually being pushed back to where we started. Each of us picked up our guns again, but instead of firing at our opponent, we fired at our opposing opponent, which worked. Because the bullets we used were magical we did them some damage.
"How fair is that?" Protested the man with the luminous arm, a little irritated by it.
"You men do not swallow your pride and bow before the circumstances." Said Inna.
“We observe and execute what is best suited to the situation.” I added.
The man in the red coat snapped his sword on the ground and leaned on her, laughing.
“Because of this… it was worth the job.”
He was going to attack us again, but at that moment the Inna ninja immersed and threw one of her smoke bombs to the ground while I did a quick teleportation spell. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do it outside.
"Since our situation could not be better…" Inna began, looking at a spot.
I looked and what I saw there was demons.
“It's perfect.” I commented sarcastically.
“We'd better be quick on this.” Alvaro advised us. "They're already coming our way."
“Wow! How annoying!” I protested already without patience.
"At least they're handsome, but this time I have to agree with you." Said Inna.
We defeated the demons that were there, and we were on our way again, for new demons to appear.
"Do not tell me they smelled the artifact!" Protested Inna.
"They shouldn’t!" I replied. “I took all precautions!”
We got rid of the demons and we met again with our two stalkers.
“Seriously?!” Asked Inna, clearly irritated.
“Our luck is fantastic.” I sighed.
"If you want something with me, you first call me on a date, and then we can talk." Said Inna.
“They are more like ex boyfriends who never leave.” I retorted.
“Seriously? So, you wanna go out with me, babe?” Asked the man in the red coat with a smile.
“Enough!” Exclaimed the man with the luminous arm.
"Demons killing other demons. This is rare now.” Commented the man in the red coat.
“Okay. Now you're going to have to explain it.” Started Inna. "I know I invoke demons, but being one it's still going a long way. Or does this make me one?
"You aren’t a demon, but you have the personality of one, so ..." I said.
“I'll kill you.” Inna looked at me with a murderous look.
"Kill them, not me."  I asked innocently.
“Stop it!” He ordered clearly angry.
“Wait. Aren’t you demons?” Asked the man in the red coat, now confused.
"That's obvious!" Protested Inna.
"Just because we use magic doesn’t mean we are demons.” I added.
"But you killed humans." Nero retorted, not convinced.
"He must be speaking of the Holy Trinity." Inna remembered. "The time we went to one's house, remember?"
“Ah! That time. But how do they know that?” I asked.
"Stop talking like we're not here!" Exclaimed the man with the luminous arm.
“It’s all recorded on video.” Replied the man in the red coat.
“What?!” We both said both clearly surprised.
“That’s is impossible! That means ..." I thought, but I had no time for anything.
The next moment I was shot in the left shoulder, putting me on my knees on the floor. It had not been any of the men and Inna just didn’t take one either because Alvaro was faster, yet she carried one in the leg from another angle. We turned to see who the snipers had been, to meet some people in suit.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” thanked a woman with glasses and a ponytail. “Demon hunters Dante and Nero.”
"What's going on here?" Demanded the man with the luminous arm.
“Holy Trinity.” I said as I tried to get me back on my feet with one hand where I had taken the shot.
“Ruby Campbell.” Said the woman, turning to me with a sadistic smile.  “Do you like our latest bullets? They are made of iron, so your magical abilities won’t work. And the same goes for you Inna Walker.” She said, turning to the Inna.
"You ..." Inna was about to start cursing.
Alvaro was about to shoot them, but he eventually disappeared, making Inna extremely surprised.
"We have our own measures against necromancers.” Said the woman.  “Take them.”
"Why not kill us already?" Inna asked irritated.
"Because you’re useful to us alive.” Replied the woman.
The men who were with her were going to get us, but the man in the red coat gave a shot that killed one of them.
“What do you think you're doing?” Asked the woman, unhappy with his attitude.
“I'm so sorry, my finger slipped.” He replied.
Then the other man stretched and shot in the other. “Ups. My bad. He excused himself.”
"If that's what you want. You don’t even need to be paid." Said the woman, taking a whip.
The men who were with her also prepared to fight. But before they could do anything, they were all unconscious. And when the man in the red coat came to the woman's feet, which was already leaning against the trunk of a tree, he declared "We don’t like being deceived. Our job is to kill demons, not to kill humans.”
And then he put her unconscious. While Inna was in charge of killing some of the men with my pistol, I used my sword to form a spell that killed the rest, including the woman. This caused me to start bleeding from the nose because I was going beyond the limits I could get with an iron bullet on my shoulder. I took the rest I had to freeze my right shoulder so I could not feel any pain.
“Why have you done that?” Asked the man with the luminous arm.
"They're not human anymore. Apart from that it would give us a lot of work if they were still alive.” I explained.
The man in the red coat crouched at the foot of the Inna and went to take her in his lap, but she pointed the pistol at his head, asking "What are you going to do now?"
"We have no reason to kill you. You’re not demons.” He replied.
"If you'd heard us from the beginning, you'd known that for a long time.” I said.
“Yeah. That's why we have to help you now.” He said, carrying Inna in bride style, not caring about the pistol she was aiming at him.
“Get off me!” Inna protested, trying to shoot him, but he swerved.
“Let us help you.” Asked the man with the luminous arm.
"It's not like we can fight any more.” I gave up, managing to get up at great cost.
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Asked the man in the red coat.
“It's too far.” I said, almost losing my balance if it were not for the man with the luminous arm.
“Okay. Then let's go.” Said the man in the red coat, starting to walk.
“Where do you think you're taking me?!” Protested Inna.
"It's not on a date now, babe.” Replied the man in the red coat. “To my store.”
I followed him with the help of the man with the luminous arm. Fortunately, such a store was not far away. When we got there the man in the red coat sat Inna on the couch and I let myself sit on the floor without further strength.
“What do we do now?” Asked the man with the luminous arm concerned.
“That’s the question.” Said the man in the red coat, still thinking about it.
I remembered the artifact in the pocket of my coat and pulled it out to see if it was everything okay with it. Luckily it was intact and it felt good to have it in my hand. At that moment something occurred to me.
“Help me.” I asked the man with the luminous arm with a signal.
He was kind of confused yet it helped me to get up and get to Inna.
“What are you going to do?” Inna asked with a little fear. “You're dangerous.”
I laughed unhappily and then I said "I think you're going to want to bite something."
I put the bracelet on my right wrist and felt magic returning to my body, also lifting some of the tiredness. Inna was suddenly scared, yet there wasn’t much she could do. I placed my right hand over the bullet wound on her leg and created a kind of ice box around the bullet, since iron and magic do not mix. When I finished, I left a kind of handle coming out of the wound.
"Does anyone want to do the honors?" I asked.
"I think I'd better do it." Replied Inna after recovering from the pain created by the ice.
"Then whenever you want." I said. “Just pull.”
Inna picked it up and started to pull. It was better if it was pulled quickly, but the body wouldn’t respond as she wanted, although as she was doing so, I was using the magic of the artifact to drastically accelerate the healing process. When she had finished pulling, the wound was already closed.
“At least some luck in the middle of everything.” She said with some difficulty.
“It’s true. Who would have thought it was a supporting artifact.” I nodded.
The men were stunned to look at us. But I was still missing, which was going to be slightly more complicated. I defrosted my left shoulder and did the same thing I had done to Inna, the only difference being that I was feeling everything now. At the end of everything I fainted exhausted with everything that had happened that day.
When I woke up again, I was still on the floor, but there was a woman I did not know next to me, but she seemed to be taking care of me. She smiled to see that I was awake and announced “You’re awake.”
I sat down and checked the spot where I had taken the shot, seeing that it was flawless. I looked at her again and asked “Who are you?”
“Ah! Excuse. My name is Kyrie.” She said with a smile. “Your friend is awake too.”
I looked at the place she pointed out and saw Inna eating something that smelled pretty good, like she hadn’t eaten in a week.
“Ruby.” I introduced myself.
“Nice to meet you. Come on, you must eat too.” She said, taking my hands, leading me to the table where Inna was eating.
“Rin-chan!” She exclaimed, only realizing that I had woken up when I got to her.
“Heya.” I said back seeing what the food was.
“This food is fantastic.” Said Inna, eating more.
“Thanks.” thanked Kyrie.
I started to eat and saw that Inna was really right, that food was very good. We ended up eating everything that was there, which made Kyrie surprised, but at the same time very happy. That was also the time when the men arrived.
“We're home.” Announced the one with the luminous arm.
“Welcome back.” Kyrie said with a smile.
“Hey! Where is the food?!” Asked the man in the red coat, looking shocked at the table.
"They ate everything.” Kyrie answered.
“What do you mean?” Asked the man with the bright arm in disbelief.
We looked like two little children looking at them making innocent eyes, as if it were nothing to do with us.
"I've noticed that you two are already fine.” Concluded the man in the red coat.
“Ready for another.” Agreed Inna.
“Please no.” I asked.
We all laughed at each other, only getting Kyrie out because she wasn’t sure what had happened that night.
“We never got to introduce ourselves. Dante.” Announced the man in the red coat.
“Nero” said the Bright arm men.
“Inna.” Inna introduced herself.
“Ruby.” I introduced myself. "Thank you for helping us yesterday."
"Though that situation could have been avoided, if they hadn’t appeared.” Added Inna.
“We already apologized. Okay, babe?” Dante defended himself.
“My name is Inna. Remember it at least.” She asked.
“But it's true. If it was only me, I would’ve known at once you weren’t demons and none of this had happened.” Agreed Nero.
"Are you blaming me now, Kid?" Dante asked.
“I'm just stating a fact.” He defended himself.
"Just because you have an arm who can detect demons, doesn’t mean it illegals you from what happened yesterday. You're as guilty as I am.” Said Dante.
They started arguing there, if it had not been for me. Hearing that last piece of information about Nero's arm, I looked at Inna who had also been surprised. I went to his feet and took him by the hand and began to see the differences, causing him to be surprised.
“Excuse me.” I asked, dropping his hand. "Like I said yesterday you have a very interesting hand."
“Thanks?” He said, not sure what to say.
"Well ... Now that's settled. We can leave.” Said Inna, rising without further delay.
“True.” I nodded.
“Hey! What about my date?” Dante was shocked by the revelation.
“What date?” Asked Inna, confused. “Wait? Were you really serious yesterday?”
“Of course, Babe.” He answered without further delay.
"I'll think about it. It's just that I usually don’t accept invitations from guys who tried to kill me the night before.” Said Inna with a smile.
We all laugh at that situation, except for Dante.
"But what was that yesterday?" Asked Nero, still curious about what had happened.
We looked at each other, wondering if we should tell or not. But as they technically saved us, we thought it was the least we could do.
“Well ... If you ever need anything, call Devil May Cry.” Dante announced with a smile, sitting on his desk, putting his feet on top of it.
“Devil May Cry?” We both asked at the same time.
“That's where we are.” Replied Nero.
“Sure.” We agreed with a smile.
"And if you need…" Inna said, writing her number on a piece of paper.
“Babe! I mean, you don’t want to go out with me, but you give me your phone number.” Commented Dante.
"Just call if you have to, you idiot." She said, already a little irritated.
“Here.” I handed one with mine, too. "Usually we only steal magic artifacts, but whatever magic deals with, we accept."
“Even kill some demons.” Inna concluded.
We departed from them and left as if we had known each other long ago.
“Hey. Do you think he was really serious when he called me on a date?” Asked Inna on our way home.
“Who knows. Were you interested in him? For someone who wanted to kill him yesterday… it's a drastic change.” I commented.
“Shut it. He's hot.” Asked Inna.
“I know he is.” I agreed.
“And you, huh? Aren’t you interested in Nero?” Asked Inna.
“Even if I had. I'm sure that girl is his girlfriend.” He said without much ado.
“How do you know that?” She asked.
"The way they were looking at each other?" I replied.
"You're not so blind after all." Inna looked.
“HEY! If you already knew why you asked?!” I protested.
"You might not have noticed and said something like, He's so handsome I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” Inna explained.
“You ...” I was going to insult her.
“What? In love everything is worth. Never say no before you try.” She declared.
“Yeah yeah.”
And so we made our way to our houses, where we were still considering whether we stayed with an artifact as useful as that, or whether we would deliver it to the Academy of Magic.
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qethnehzul · 5 years
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The Night We Met
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[Conversations, presumably, are in dovahzul.
Nonvul (Krosis) and Miraak find some privacy away from the temple at a hidden hot springs. Miraak fumbles with his emotions, and ns/4w happens.
Characters: Nonvul [Krosis], Miraak
Warnings: NS/4W. For however long Tumblr lets this Exist]
The night air was pleasantly warm- a sure sign of summer’s long-awaited arrival. Crickets chirped and sung in the evening air, and the bright light of the auroras and the moons made walking without torches or magic possible.
Which was convenient for the two priest who had no interest in swaths of followers or servants flocking to their sides upon seeing the two outside. If someone really wanted to find them, it would be possible- but until then, they would be left in the most privacy their positions would ever truly allow. It was a rare moment neither Nonvul nor Miraak wanted to pass up.
The dirt crunched under their feet as they traveled down the rarely-trodden path to their destination- a well-hidden hot spring Nonvul used as his personal getaway when he had the chance. Few knew of it, and fewer visited it. It wasn’t a particularly ideal spot for more than a few people - the rocky pit wasn’t more than fifteen feet wide at its widest, and only got to be shoulder-deep for most atmorans. But it was a comfortable spot for Nonvul and a few others to relax and talk away from the prying ears of rivals or the constant buzz of followers.
“You’ve picked a fine time to visit, Sonaak Miraak. Though I must admit - I find the warmth of the springs most enjoyable in the depth of winter,” Nonvul mused, carefully stepping around some sharp lava rocks in the darkness.
Miraak carefully followed, his eyes locked on the ground in uncertainty. The last thing he wanted to do was make the wrong step and slip, or brush up against most of the rocks there. He’d done it already, and the blood on his ankles reminded him of how damn sharp the rocks were. Nonvul had clearly wandered this maze many times; he walked with confidence and hardly seemed to actually look at where he was walking. Miraak just wished the younger man would slow down a little, because he certainly did not know the area like Nonvul did. “Solstheim is still as cold as ever- if you wish to be in the snow, I’m sure we can arrange for you to visit my temple to the north. Even in the summer, you will find it remains quite cold,” Miraak chuckled in reply, trying his best to keep an eye on the ground through the slits of his mask.
Nonvul’s head turned just enough to peer at Miraak from the very corner of his mask slits, a smile appearing behind it. “I would be honored to visit your temple, Sonaak Miraak, for any reason. I have heard your temple is the most beautiful of them all - I would love to visit it if you would allow me to. I’m afraid I have traveled little, as you can imagine. Almost all of my priorities and work have been here since I joined your ranks, but I have heard that some of you travel quite often.”
Miraak ducked under a low branch, pushing it aside as well with the end of his staff. “Mm, some of us do. Dahmaan used to spend more time traveling than he did in his own temple I heard, before his health took a turn for the worst. Others do not. In the four summers Nahkriin has been in our ranks, I don’t think i’ve heard of him leaving his post besides to travel to Bromjunaar,” Miraak grunted.
Nonvul tilted his head a bit, picking up his pace for a moment so he could make a small leap up a rocky ledge. “Really? I cannot imagine wasting such possibility by remaining sedentary. If I wished to remain in one temple forever, I would not have taken such a position,” Nonvul paused. “If it isn’t wrong of me to say, of course,” he added, a edge of concern to his low voice.
Miraak waved a hand dismissively as Nonvul looked back and waited on the ledge above, swiftly following behind him. “Perhaps in the presence of the other priests, but I care not. Nahkriin dislikes humans as oil dislikes water. His interest and purpose aligns with the gods, and the gods alone.”
Nonvul let out a low hum of thought, turning back to the path. “Would you not say that our purposes align with our gods?” He questioned, his interest genuine.
“Not in the same way Nahkriin’s does. Nahkriin would see all of mankind burn with little remorse if it pleased our gods. You, on the other hand, perhaps care for your people as much as you care for those we serve.”
Nonvul paused, tightening his grip on his staff. Miraak almost bumped into him at the abruptness of his hault. “Is that wrong?” Nonvul asked with a pang of panic.
Miraak snorted. “Mm, it would depend on who you ask. Hevnoraak would say that it is - but that is why you should never listen to him on anything.”
Nonvul shifted, and Miraak could sense the uncertainty. “Do you believe that it is wrong?”
Miraak paused. It was clear Nonvul prized Miraak’s opinion and input highly - and he seemed concerned that his stance may not be what Miraak agreed with. Miraak lifted up his staff, swatting Nonvul on the thigh just hard enough to sting with the butt of the staff. “If I disliked how you handled things, I would hardly return to examine your progress, would I?” Miraak scoffed.
Nonvul yelped in surprise, jumping away to try to avoid another hit. “You could be moulding me!” Nonvul exclaimed, but his voice returned to its usual mirthful pitch that made Miraak relax again.
“If I were, I would be doing a poor job of it. I have hardly tried to steer you in another direction. I simply wish to see you succeed. You were chosen to carry the mask of honorable for a reason. I have no interest in turning you into something else. If I wasn’t interested in the gifts you had brought with you to begin with, I believe I would just…” Miraak reached out, pulling his staff around Nonvul’s front. He hooked the shaft under the man’s neck, pulling back just sharp enough to catch and pull Nonvul up to his chest. “Kill you now. Maybe bury you in a hole somewhere. Or leave you out for the wolves to pick at,” he teased.
Nonvul grunted, reaching up in mild discomfort to push the staff back. Miraak allowed him to, lowering his arms again as Nonvul reached up to rub his neck. “Would you really, Sonaak Miraak?”
Miraak lowered his staff again, dropping the end until it rested on the ground. He gave a noncommittal shrug, making the gold scales of his robes clink. “Perhaps I would. Perhaps I wouldn’t.”
Nonvul rolled his eyes under his mask, starting ahead again. “I… have heard rumors that Sonaak Hevnoraak was the one who removed Sonaak Viin from this world,” Nonvul said hesitantly.
“Do you believe it?” Miraak asked simply.
Nonvul furrowed his brow. Another question, as always. “I would say that it is hard to find a reason to discredit such a rumor,” he decided to answer.
“And I would have to agree,” Miraak replied. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure himself if the rumor was true or not - but Hevnoraak certainly was not trying too hard to deny it. Konahrik aggressively discouraged such in-fighting and treachery, but Hevnoraak was not the sort of person who cared about the rules.
At last, the two arrived at their destination. Nonvul pushed aside a few of the bushes before revealing the small, well-hidden spring nestled comfortably at the face of a small cliff. Between the boulders and the foliage, the hot spring was well protected from prying eyes, and at this time of night it was almost certain that nobody would be in the remote vicinity. It lacked many of the alterations some of the hot springs in Nahkriin’s territory had, but Nonvul had taken his time to fix it so that there were a few places to sit, a way to get in and out, and a way to funnel a bit of cold water into the pool from a higher up pond.
Nonvul turned to Miraak once they entered  the small clearing surrounding the pool, and Miraak could tell just from his posture that the man was smiling. “My personal getaway. I hope that it is acceptable to you, Sonaak Miraak. I know that you are used to far nicer places, so I must apologize for my rather humble hobble,” he said with a bow, moving his arm out to the side so that Miraak could go ahead of him.
“Privacy is a luxury that no bath in Solstheim can offer me, especially like this,” Miraak said, walking to the far side. He rested his staff against the gangly dead branch of a tree before slowly beginning to disrobe himself, gingerly hanging his mask and his clothing up so they would not get dirty. Nonvul did the same on the other side of the pool, and when both were done they carefully lowered themselves into the hot water.
Nonvul let out a sigh of relief, not at all bothered by the warmth of the water. It took Miraak a few more seconds to get in, and part of him had to just force himself into it out of pride. But gods, was it worth it. Miraak sunk down into the water, letting it come up to his chin with his own relaxed exhale. His long black hair floated out around his head for a moment, before he came back up and shook it out.
Nonvul chuckled, bringing a hand up to shield himself from the water. “Is it an acceptable temperature for you, Sonaak Miraak? I can bring some cold water down if it’s too hot,” Nonvul offered, motioning to the makeshift pipe that could be pulled down by a rather ragged length of rope.
Miraak shook his head, bringing his hands up to wring out his curly black hair. “It is plenty comfortable, I assure you,” he replied, sitting down on one of the ledges Nonvul had made. He paused for a moment, bringing his hair around to rest on one shoulder. “And… you do not need to be so formal with me here. It is just you and I. Just Miraak will do.”
Nonvul had been in the process of idly looking around when Miraak had spoken, causing him to whip his head to look at Miraak in surprise. Miraak could just barely see the younger man’s blue-grey eyes light up in a sort of bewildered reverence, before he bowed his head forward. “I-if that is acceptable to you. I apologize then in advanced if I say it anyways - i’m afraid i’m unused to such informalities, especially to someone as great as you.”
Miraak snorted, leaning back against the edge of the pool as he let the warmth sink into his bones. “You do not need to flatter me either.”
Nonvul lifted his head a bit, just enough to see Miraak past his hair. “I am not simply trying to flatter you, So- Miraak,” Nonvul corrected himself quickly, shifting, “I am saying that truthfully. You are, without a doubt the greatest priest of our time- perhaps that there has ever been.” Nonvul looked down again, watching his dim reflection in the water. “And I am so incredibly honored that you have continued to visit me. And I must give you a thousand thanks for offering me your tutelage, and for taking time out of your many important tasks to see to my progress. Truly, I feel as though a god has come to watch over me.” Nonvul bowed his head further, strands of his hair dipping into the water as he did so.
Miraak had… not been expecting that. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, pausing with one finger under his chin as he watched Nonvul remained bowed over the water. The sentiment stirred that same feeling Miraak had every time he’d seen Nonvul, and once more he wasn’t sure what to make of it. But the honesty Nonvul presented him was… truthful, and from the heart. And certainly, it was more than anyone else had given him. Slowly, Miraak shifted, sensing the tension of uncertainty again in Nonvul because of his delayed reply. “... When Sivaas had passed and it was time to choose her replacement, many of the lower priests were hesitant in placing your name for consideration because of your age. But, unlike others, you came with a rather… shining recommendation from your patron.”
Nonvul shifted, lifting his head finally from the steamy water. He leaned back with a heavily furrowed brow, shaking his head just enough to get the condensation out of his face again.
“I don’t believe even Sonaak Konahrik had known of anyone else who had warranted such a thing, and even without it, looking at your list of accomplishments and how highly regarded you were by your people the vote to choose you was unanimous. You had the makings of someone great. You had everything that would be worth nurturing, worth instilling my time in. I would be foolish not to see to your advancement, and others are foolish for not tending to it as well,” Miraak continued.
Nonvul’s fingers curled around the edge of his seat, fingers pressing into the warm rock. He stared at Miraak for a bit longer in silence, before hanging his head and giving another not. Miraak watched, tilting his head a bit at the action. “I cannot put into words how much that means to me,” Nonvul managed, sounding as if he might be fighting back tears. “It is a honor greater than can be described.”
Miraak sunk into the water a bit, closing his eyes. “I am certain that, should you listen to my advice and continue your current path, you will no doubt become as loved.”
Nonvul managed to chuckle. “I could only dream. I think it would be rather difficult for me to aspire to the status of being akin to a god.”
Miraak snorted. “Heretic’s talk,” Miraak scoffed, though his tone of voice made it clear he didn’t disagree.
Nonvul sunk down into the water himself, running a hand through his hair as he finally started to relax. “If such is heretic’s talk, then a heretic I shall be. Even if such blasphemies can only be spoken in the darkness of night, I dare say that you must be a god, and I must be blessed to have met you. And in truth, I think it might be hardly fitting that you serve under the others if you are kin to them. Should we not serve you as well?” Nonvul questioned.
“Enough,” Miraak said suddenly, stiffening. Nonvul flinched. “You know they would have you burn for such words. Do not say them again.”
Nonvul paused, frowning. “...Would you turn me in?”
Miraak blinked. “Of course not,” he grunted. “But I do not wish to risk your death. It would…” He trailed off. The thought of Nonvul’s death… made his chest hurt. Miraak’s green eyes darted off to the side, a sudden look of honest hesitation on his face when no word came up to describe the retching feeling that occured in his heart.
The pause caught Nonvul by surprise. “My death would…?” He repeated carefully, trying to watch Miraak’s face as closely as possible without outright staring at him.
Miraak felt Nonvul’s gaze on him, and it made him shift in visible discomfort. He turned his head away, hiding his face behind a curtain of curled hair as he turned to look out at the valley below instead. He focused on the stars on the horizon, on the dancing auroras, on anything else for a moment.
It wasn’t a good place to leave off, and he felt foolish for it, but he hadn’t realized that he didn’t know what to say about that.
Nonvul bit his lower lip, pulling his gaze away when he realized that it was making Miraak uncomfortable. “Don’t… don’t worry about it, alright Miraak?” Nonvul whispered. “I won’t. I won’t talk about it with anyone. I’m sorry if I’ve made you upset.”
Miraak watched the stars shimmer behind a curtain of blue and green. “...It…” He trailed off again. It made him upset to think of Nonvul’s death. Was that odd? Did he need to know that? The corner of his mouth twitched a bit. Others didn’t need to know that, if nothing else.
Nonvul tilted his head slightly. The single word it carried a tension to it Nonvul hadn’t heard in Miraak’s voice before, and it made him curious. But Miraak clearly did not want to continue the conversation, or at least needed a moment. So instead of prying, Nonvul resigned himself to the water. He slid off the edge of where he sat, moving to a deeper part of the water so he could dunk himself under it.
Miraak turned his head to watch Nonvul disappear for a few moments, before he resurfaced with a gasp for breath and a shake of his head. He wiped his face off with a hand, trying to get a bulk of the water off before stretching. Miraak had been trying not to pay too much attention to the other man since they’d removed their garments, but in that moment, Miraak found himself staring. Staring at the way the water rolled over his shoulders, the way the moonlight lit the muscles of his back, the way that he turned his head with that stupid look that he’d caught so rarely when he’d had a chance to see the man without his mask-
Miraak’s breath hitched sharply, pulling back in his sitting position when he realized what he was doing. He drew his jaw tight. He’d denied it plenty before, but the growing stiffness between his legs was a answer to a question he had been afraid to ask himself. Miraak adjusted how he was sitting, trying to feign disinterest as Nonvul returned to his seat.
Perhaps feigning too much. Nonvul frowned, noticing how Miraak was looking away to the valley below. “Are you displeased with this?” Nonvul questioned, a sadness to his voice that made Miraak angry at himself.
“No,” Miraak said, shaking his head a bit as his mind frantically searched for an excuse. Usually, it would take him no effort to play things off, but suddenly now he found himself struggling to come up with words at all. He was stumbling around like a buffoon, and it was very much… not what Miraak was used to. “I believe the heat has just gotten to me,” Miraak managed to say.
“I can cool the water. Or perhaps you should take a moment and step out. We can leave if you would wish,” Nonvul said quickly, worry now adding into his voice.
Gods damn it. Miraak tried not to look at Nonvul, desperately trying to ignore the twitch his cock just gave. He moved his knuckles up in front of his mouth, pretending to rest his elbow on the outer edge of the pool. “I’ll be fine. I just… need a moment,” Miraak muttered, berating himself for suddenly falling apart.
Nonvul had never seen Miraak so… distraught? Inconsistent? Uncertain? Nonvul slid off his seat again, wading over to Miraak. “Sonaak Miraak, what is troubling-” he began, reaching out to put his hand on Miraak’s shoulder in concern.
Miraak tried to flinch away from him, and Nonvul reached in to try to make sure Miraak didn’t fall or bolt. And somewhere in the sudden exchange of movement, Nonvul’s leg managed to brush against the stiffness between Miraak’s, and the two froze.
Miraak’s breath hitched sharply, and when Nonvul’s eyes widened and he too froze Miraak knew he was done for. He closed his eyes tightly, and now he was certain it was going to be the heat that got to him when the extra heat from his scalding blush added to the muggy spring air. Miraak wasn’t even sure what to expect from this, other then disaster. But there was no way that Nonvul hitting his shameful erection wasn’t going to lead to humiliation.
Nonvul… wasn’t fully sure what to think either. It took him a second to process what he’d brushed against, but the way Miraak’s body arched was more than enough to tell him. Nonvul’s face turned equally red, and he couldn’t bring himself to move away immediately.
The two remained frozen- Miraak seated while Nonvul stood almost uncomfortably close in front of him. Finally, Miraak managed to break the silence.
“Please don’t… tell anyone. I’m sorry,” Miraak managed to choke, grimacing as he turned his head away in shame. His mind reeled with shame and anxiety, already running through thousands of worst-case scenarios that would come out of this, scenarios that Miraak had never even considered until now - now that he realized his feelings towards Nonvul and immediately failed in hiding them.
“I-I won’t. I would never,” Nonvul replied back swiftly, a look of concern on his face. He pulled back slightly, his grip on Miraak’s shoulder loosening, but then he paused. “I... “ He paused, trying to find his words. “Did… I… Cause this…?” Nonvul dared to whisper. He doubted that, no matter how foolish he was, it would be as bad as what Miraak was going through right now.
The question made Miraak shrink in more on himself in shame, and he couldn’t even manage to provide anything but a small nod.
Nonvul wasn’t sure if the steam was just making it worse, or if he really felt that strongly to Miraak’s answer that he was starting to feel light headed. Nonvul looked away for a moment, nodding himself. He whetted his lower lip, his mind scrambling through his choices and their consequences, before he looked back to Miraak.
The other priest hadn’t dared to move. His eyes remained squeezed shut, just waiting for Nonvul to pull away so he could try to retreat in shame and figure out how to dig himself out of this. Instead of pulling away though, he felt Nonvul move closer. The younger priest carefully leaned into him, putting one knee at his side so he could lean on the ledge Miraak sat on before gently cupping Miraak’s face in his hands. Miraak’s breath caught, closing his eyes tighter. He couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t-
Miraak felt Nonvul’s lips press slowly, softly, against his. Miraak’s eyes snapped open, and the world felt like it fell still. His breathing stopped, and he felt like his heart leapt up into his throat.
Even after taking a dunk in the water, Nonvul’s lips tasted subtly like juniper berries. He was gentle, and everything about it felt… so much different than any kiss he’d had before. Nonvul’s eyes were closed, but there was a look of calm bliss on his face that made Miaak’s chest tighten. Nonvul gently tilted his head into the motion, making both of them inhale sharply for a moment. The softness of Nonvul’s hands on his cheeks, the way his lips parted and gently pulled over Miraak’s, the texture of his beard, the weight of his body…
Even after Nonvul broke away, Miraak had forgotten to breath. His wide-eyed gaze just lingered on Nonvul in shock, scanning the other priest’s features in the dim light for some sort of answer. Nonvul’s own eyes slowly opened, that damn softness in them once more as he gazed down at Miraak. The serenity on Nonvul’s face very quickly broke with a goofy smile, and Nonvul had to lower his head down to the side to let out a low chuckle. The grip on Miraak’s face softened, but nonetheless remained. “You look like I may have stabbed you in the back,” Nonvul whispered, his eyes crinkling at the corners with joy.
Miraak finally remembered to breathe, taking a ragged inhale. He closed his eyes, turning his head away in embarrassment. Nonvul let him, but he didn’t remove his hands from Miraak’s face. “I... I’ve… That was… new,” Miraak managed, hating himself again for bumbling over it.
Nonvul chuckled again. “A kiss? You’ve never kissed anyone before? Surely you’ve kissed a harem girl before-” Nonvul began.
Miraak huffed, looking back at Nonvul with a pout. “No, not a kiss,” he grumbled, cheeks searing under Nonvul’s fingers. “I have just never… kissed another man before… nor has any kiss i’ve ever had felt like… that.” Miraak looked away again, swallowing hard.
Nonvul’s gaze softened as he slowly settled himself in Miraak’s lap now that he had Miraak’s attention. Hesitantly, Miraak accepted his weight, nervously bringing his hands up to help balance Nonvul by holding his hips. He could feel his length brush up against Nonvul’s skin, and sometimes he could feel the other man’s member brush his leg as well. The sensation and thoughts made Miraak’s heart race and his insides curl. “Is that bad…?” Nonvul asked quietly, bringing a thumb up to gently rub Miraak’s cheek.
The touch made Miraak’s heart ache, and he couldn’t resist but to lean into it. He closed the eye on that side. “No,” Miraak managed to whisper back. “It’s not.”
Nonvul’s heart fluttered. He slowly moved his thumb down to run over Miraak’s lips, tracing one of the scars that traversed them. “Would you like me to kiss you again?” Nonvul whispered, leaning in closer.
Miraak’s gaze returned to Nonvul, his own reverence in them this time. “Yes,” Miraak replied, his voice hardly audible.
When Nonvul’s lips met Miraak’s again, Miraak kissed back. His fingers curled into Nonvul’s sides, leaning forward until their chests pressed together. Nonvul kept one hand on Miraak’s face while another slid down to his shoulder to support him while he deepened their kiss. His tongue darted out to see if Miraak would allow him access, and almost immediately he could feel his tongue brush over Miraak’s sharpened teeth. Miraak leaned back against the stone, allowing Nonvul to lean forward as the two broke into needy kissing. Nonvul let out a low groan as Miraak bit his lower lip, making him dig his nails into the other man’s shoulder. He could feel his own member stiffen, brushing every now and then against Miraak’s.
Miraak finally broke from the kiss, moving to kiss Nonvul’s neck passionately. Nonvul’s eyes fluttered, tilting his head to the side as Miraak occasionally scraped his teeth over his skin as well.  Nonvul’s hand slid up Miraak’s cheek to his hair, tangling his fingers in his braids and pulling him closer into the crook of his neck.
In return, Nonvul reached down between their bodies, fumbling until he’d managed to grab both of their members in his hand. Nonvul’s cheeks burned again upon feeling Miraak’s size. Miraak wasn’t the biggest of the atmorans, but he was certainly large, and his member reflected that. Nonvul could hardly fit his and Miraak’s in his hand at once, and if this had been his first time he doubted he’d had managed it.
Miraak hissed against Nonvul’s skin, his hips bucking sharply as Nonvul brought their members together. He pressed his face against Nonvul’s chest, digging his nails into the man’s sides. Nonvul couldn’t help but smirk a bit, slowly dragging his hand up their shafts with a low groan. He let his hand pause where his shaft ended, slowly swiping his thumb up over the top of Miraak’s to make up for the difference in length. Miraak’s eyes fluttered, grinding his hips back slowly.
Was this wrong of him? To lay with another man like this? To enjoy the feeling of Nonvul’s cock rubbing against his own?
Miraak furrowed his brow a bit, nuzzling his face between Nonvul’s pecs. The hand in Miraak’s hair pulled him closer, Nonvul’s thumb sometimes moving forward to stroke against his temple. Miraak slid a hand up Nonvul’s back, pushing his palm flat into the small of his back to hold groin closer. He moved to bite Nonvul’s chest, making Nonvul yelp in surprise. Nonvul’s hips bucked sharply, making Miraak grin before he moved to bite into Nonvul’s neck.
“Shit-” Nonvul cursed, almost losing his grip on Miraak at the spasm of pleasure.
The young priest closed his eyes, tilting his head back again as he gave their members a sharp tug. His curse turned into a moan tangled with pain as Miraak’s razor-sharp fangs sunk into his skin, and immediately Miraak could taste the sweet flavor of iron he’d become so accustomed to. Their hips rocked sharply in rhythm with Nonvul’s hand, both of them leaning hard into each other for support. Miraak left a trail of blood from the bite mark up Nonvul’s neck, leaving a trail of welts where his teeth scraped just hard enough to dent his skin.
“C-careful,” Nonvul managed to breath, his breath catching in his throat. “T-they’ll see that-”
Miraak let out a low growl, kissing the underside of Nonvul’s jaw. “I’ll heal it. They won’t,” he breathed, pulling away so he could kiss Nonvul deeply again.
Nonvul tried to ignore the taste of his own blood, focusing instead on sliding Miraak’s hand down from his hip to his ass. Miraak tensed, hesitating in their kissing. Nonvul pulled away, looking down in embarrassment. “I- I’m sorry if I’m out of place. I must remember this is… well, I assume your first time with a man as well,” he said lowly, biting the inside of his lower lip.
Miraak looked up at Nonvul with a furrowed brow, feeling a mix of hurt pride and simple embarrassment. Why was this so difficult for him? It wasn’t like he was a stranger to sex- he had plenty of woman who waited on him and were more than happy to share a bed with him. But he was feeling as ridiculous and naive as he had his first time. Miraak decided to swallow down his worries, taking Nonvul’s comment as a challenge. His hand slipped down over the other man’s firm ass, sliding his fingers down until he could press his index finger against his hole.
Nonvul tensed in surprise, not expecting Miraak to suddenly take him up on that. He leaned forward with a rather loud groan as Miraak pushed a finger in, giving their members a firm squeeze in response that made Miraak hiss. Nonvul pressed his face into Miraak’s neck this time, eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of Miraak’s finger sliding deeper within him. Miraak was hesitant, but each time Nonvul groaned against his ear a bit more of the hesitation melted away until a second finger joined the first. Nonvul bucked his hips roughly against Miraak’s, stifling another loud groan. Nonvul shifted himself closer to Miraak’s body, finally releasing their cocks so he could reach out and brace himself on the side of the pool when Miraak started to slowly thrust his fingers. Miraak listened carefully to Nonvul’s breathing, making sure that each movement was correct.
He was too slow. Nonvul finally cursed, unable to be patient any longer. Miraak allowed him to pull his hand away, grunting as Nonvul reached down and grabbed his length again. Nonvul stared down at Miraak with heavy eyelids, giving Miraak’s full length a few pumps before he lined him up with his entrance. Miraak reached up and gripped Nonvul’s hips tightly, and the second he felt Nonvul’s ass give Miraak pulled sharply down. Nonvul’s eyes widened in surprise, hissing and reaching out to grab Miraak’s shoulders roughly.
“Fuck- Miraak-” Nonvul gasped, closing his eyes in pain. He hunched over as Miraak tried to set him fully in his lap, biting his lip hard enough for his sharp teeth to pierce it. “Y-you c-can’t do that. N-not like this,” Nonvul managed, feeling his insides burn. If he’d known he was going to fuck his mentor, he would have brought oils or something. He had hoped that the hot spring water and Miraak’s fingers would loosening him up a bit, but they hadn’t enough for Miraak to be so rough.
Miraak stopped, his breathing ragged as he tried not to keep moving. “Sorry,” Miraak managed to rhasp, for once feeling displeased at the sound of his lover’s discomfort. He was so used to being relentlessly rough and uncaring about his partner, but Nonvul… Nonvul wasn’t one of his harem girls. He was… different.
Miraak pulled Nonvul close, pulling back to thrust slower this time. A deep, chest-rumbling groan escaped his lips, wrapping an arm around Nonvul’s back to hold him close.
Nonvul turned to nibble on Miraak’s ear, a grin on his lips once Miraak began to ease himself more into him. There was no doubt that Miraak was on the bigger side of things Nonvul had taken, but the way he stretched him and hit against his sensitive spots made Nonvul really wish he’d brought a actual lubricant. He started to roll his own hips, helping Miraak find a pace that suited both of them.
The water of the hot springs sloshed around them with each thrust, some of it starting to spill over the edge. Their low grunts and moans echoed off of the cliff wall, filling the small clearing with the lewd noises of their lovemaking.
Nonvul felt his cock throb, rubbing up against Miraak’s stomach with each thrust. He wasn’t going to last much longer, especially  not with how Miraak kept hitting his prostate. “Miraak…” Nonvul groaned, panting hard against Miraak’s shoulders.
Miraak closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to buck violently into Nonvul, but their position just wasn’t enough for him. Nonvul almost fell over in surprise when Miraak suddenly stood up, pulling Nonvul off of him before he moved and forced the smaller man over the edge of the hot springs. He pushed him down, pushing Nonvul’s stomach against the edge of the springs before pulling his ass back up again.
Nonvul’s face turned scarlet, adjusting himself so that Miraak could get behind him. He arched firmly back when Miraak re-entered him, pressing his fingers firmly into the stone. “Miraak…” Nonvul moaned again, feeling Miraak’s hot breath on his shoulder.
Hearing his name made Miraak smirk, pushing some of his wet hair out of his face before he took Nonvul’s hips in one hand and planted the other next to Nonvul’s head. Now the water really splashed out, sending small waves over the edge under where Nonvul lay with each thrust. The sound of splashing water was combined with the slapping of skin, and Miraak angled Nonvul until he could feel his balls slap firmly against Nonvul’s ass each time he hilted. Miraak pressed his face into Nonvul’s back, hot breath cascading down his spine as he picked up his pace.
Nonvul brought a hand to his mouth, biting his knuckles for a moment out of habit before he remembered where they were. This wasn’t the temple - this was their own private space far from anyone else. Nonvul pulled his hand away with a rather low, earthy purr, and even the discomfort of the stone scraping against his stomach and his chest was negligible in the moment. The feeling of Miraak, the great godly priest Miraak, bending him over and taking him in secret was just too much.
Nonvul’s body trembled before he let out a sharp groan, his body tensing as he came. He struggled to reach down to pump himself, pressing his forehead roughly against the ground with sharp ‘ah’s as he rubbed himself. The sound of Nonvul’s climax and the feeling of his ass squeezing around his length made Miraak snarl, moving to bite into Nonvul’s shoulder again. Nonvul winced in pain, but he bore it as Miraak’s pace grew erratic.
Nonvul’s cock had just finished spurting by the time Miraak came as well with another rumbling groan, eyes fluttering as he gave a few more rapid thrusts before stilling inside of his lover. Nonvul exhaled slowly as Miraak hilted, feeling his cock twitch hard inside of him with each spurt of warmth.
The two fell still, breathing hard as they remained hunched over the edge of the spring in the slowly cooling water they’d splashed over. Once Miraak felt himself soften, he slid out, shakily pulling away to let Nonvul move.
Nonvul pushed himself up, his body trembling. “Gods…” he whispered, carefully trying to settle himself back into the spring so he could clean himself. Miraak did the same, looking away as he finally took a moment to examine the situation- after the fact, of course. Nonvul glanced at him, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t entirely sure what this meant either - and with Miraak, he was having a hard time reading what the other man might be thinking. Nonvul carefully slid closer to Miraak, waiting until the other priest got the guts to glance towards him. Nonvul scanned his features, a look of worry coming back to his face. “...I… I won’t tell anyone,” Nonvul whispered, looking down. “I just… I want to know if this…” He swallowed, “if this is just…”
Miraak shifted. Was this… just a fling? Something neither of them would never speak of again…? Was that what he wanted?  
No. It scared him, but no. He did not want this to end here. Miraak stiffened. He wanted Nonvul. He wanted that. Uncertainties and paranoia clawed at his brain, but recklessly he reached out and grabbed Nonvul’s face. He pulled him in close again into a deep kiss, cutting Nonvul off before he could say anymore.
Nonvul relaxed, sliding up to him so he could wrap his arms tightly around Miraak’s shoulders until they broke apart. The look in Nonvul’s eyes as he gazed up at Miraak made the older’s priest heart feel like it might fall out of his chest. Such joy, such softness, such reverence. Miraak slowly leaned forward, resting his forehead against Nonvul’s. A smile curled at the edge of Nonvul’s lips again, and he reached up to put one hand on Miraak’s cheek as well. “Am I dreaming?” Nonvul whispered. “I surely must be. A simple man like me could not be blessed with the affections of a god like you.”
Miraak dared to make eye contact with Nonvul, and even found the courage to hold it. Nonvul did not make him feel like he was being picked apart, like every flaw and weakness that he saw in Miraak’s eyes could be a weapon used to slay him. Miraak saw only adoration. “Then I too must be dreaming, to believe there is any man out there who would look upon me as you do.”
Nonvul caressed Miraak’s cheek, before pulling him into a tight hug. “I pray we both wake up tomorrow and find that none of this was a dream then. Even if we can only share this in secret. I know… I know Sonaak Konahrik would not approve, but…”
“He does not need to know,” Miraak replied, his arms tangling around Nonvul to hold him tight. “Nobody needs to know.”
Nonvul felt a slight disappointment at the idea, but he understood it, and he understood that all of this had… come on rather suddenly. The idea of Miraak showing him any true affection had been but a daydream in Nonvul’s head, a fantasy he was fully accepting of never happening. And Miraak… Miraak certainly didn’t seem to have seen his own emotions coming. Or perhaps he had simply not realized their depth.
The two lingered in each other’s grip until the warmth of the water finally got to them, and the two found a slab of rock  above to stretch out over. Their robes provided just enough comfort, and the coolness of the summer air was hardly noticeable to either atmoran.
Nonvul’s head rested on Miraak’s chest, one arm slung across as well while the two watched the auroras dance overhead.
“...Is this why you were helping me?” Nonvul asked, shifting to glance up at Miraak.
Miraak did not shift his gaze from the stars, one arm propping his head up while the other held Nonvul close. “No,” Miraak replied, about the only response he did not have to think on. “I helped you for all the reasons I told you before. Though…” He trailed off, before grunting. “I suppose that I no longer can deny that I may have visited you to simply see you as well.”
Nonvul chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Does this mean that we will see each other more?”
Miraak hummed. “I should hope it does. At very least, it gives me an excuse to invite you to Solstheim, doesn’t it?”
Nonvul smiled, looking back out to the stars. “Is that the only reason?” he teased.
“Of course not,” Miraak said. “But it gives me time to work out more… privacy for us.”
Nonvul snorted. “I see, you just wish to lay with me.”
Miraak rolled his eyes. “I can have any man or woman that I desire. That is hardly the case.”
“Am I not good enough?” Nonvul laughed.
“You are the only one good enough,” Miraak corrected, stretching.
Nonvul relented on his teasing, nuzzling his face into Miraak’s chest. “It is a shame Sonaak Konahrik prohibits this. I would have prefered it if we did not have to keep it hidden.”
Miraak exhaled slowly. There would be a stage where he assumed he’d feel the same, but for now… keeping their relationship hidden was fine. He still was uncertain about it, stumbling over it and trying to fully understand it. The less people who could try to use it to harm him, the better. “Perhaps there will be a time after Konahrik is no longer in this world,” Miraak said idly.
“Now who is the heretic talking?” Nonvul said, before yawning.
Miraak finally shifted to look down at Nonvul. “We should return to the temple, before we fall asleep. We have been absent long enough.” He sat up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles from laying on the stone.
Nonvul pouted, finally pulling away. “A shame. I would have enjoyed falling asleep with you here, under the stars.”
The sentiment made Miraak’s heart flutter. He didn’t look at Nonvul, but slowly he reached out and gave Nonvul’s hand a nervous squeeze. “Another time,” he said quietly, before finally standing to put his robes back on.
Nonvul watched him from the ground before doing the same. Before either donned their mask, Miraak reached over to give Nonvul one more kiss. Nonvul smiled as Miraak pulled away, pulling his mask down to cover his features. “Our secret,” he whispered.
Miraak did the same, already missing seeing that smile once it disappeared behind the cool, emotionless expression of Nonvul. “Our secret,” he whispered back, before picking up his staff and turning to head back to the temple.
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ruckystarnes · 6 years
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Let Me Show You
Author: RuckyStarnes
Summary: Reader enlists the help of Bucky to get in shape 
Warnings:  swearing
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Chubby/Plus size!Reader 
Words: 1,671
A/N: I’m usually generic with my Readers, but this time she’s a run-of-the-mill girl who is average as average can be. Well, to me, what’s average.
Y/N didn’t know what possessed her into agreeing to run with him, but here she was running on the indoor track at the compound. Bucky kept her at a pace slightly faster than she normally would go, and he was barely breaking a sweat, encouraging her to keep going, that the mile was almost over. If it wasn’t for that, she would have quit before the first lap was over, and went back to her room to sleep or eat some godawful thing. She was thankful that Bucky was 100% supportive on her trek to getting in shape, since she wasn’t happy with the slight pudge that was her stomach. She blamed it on the analyst job and life style with SHIELD: long hours and a sedentary lifestyle. He wasn’t too lenient on her, but wasn’t a drill sergeant, which she was afraid of since of his military background.
“Only a few more yards,” Bucky said effortlessly as he turned to face her as he kept moving. His hair was tied back, barely a sweat was showing on the light blue shirt he was wearing.
They reached the end of the run and Y/N collapsed on the floor, lying on her back. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, and every nerve in her body was on fire.
“You alright kid?” Bucky asked as he stood above her, smirking.
“Yeah,” she breathed out, wincing at the effort. “Just — let me — catch my — breath.” Her attempts to catch it were fruitless, but eventually the burning in her chest succumbed and she sat up.
“You know, I could’ve slowed down for you,” Bucky said, offering his hand. She took it and he pulled her up to her feet.
“What fun would’ve that been?” she laughed, pushing his shoulder, making him smile. “My pace is like walking to you.” Making her way over to the bench where her water was, she looked over her shoulder, catching him taking off his shirt revealing his toned stomach and perfect pectorals. Her eyes roamed over each detail she could see, stopping at the scars once she realized he caught her. A blush crept up her neck as she bent down to pick up her water bottle. Bucky and her were just friends, but there was no law saying that she couldn’t check him out.
Y/N took a sip of her water then pressed the cold bottle against her neck to alleviate some of the heat built up from the run…or her blushing. She wasn’t ashamed of her attraction towards her friend, she just didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship that she strived to build.
When Steve brought Bucky onto the team, most people gave him space rather out of respect or they were afraid. It was mostly the latter reason. For her, she kept her distance out of respect to let him acclimate to the new surroundings at his own pace. She was never shy with him, and when he did finally start to be less tense around people, she would initiate conversation. Slowly, they became friends and she found herself hanging out with him whenever they had a bit of free time. Because of that, she procured his help.
She set the bottle down on the bench to grab her duffle but stopped when her ass went into something, two hands resting on her hips. She straightened and turned quickly to end up facing Bucky’s bare chest, his hands still on her hips. “Bucky?” she asked, her voice cracking due to the closeness. To say that Bucky was in her intimate space was not enough. She could feel his breath on her face and smell his essence that was truly him. His hands gripped her hips tightly and his metal thumb rubbed against her skin under her tank causing her to take a sharp breath.
“Bucky,” she said again, only this time it was practically a breathless whisper. Her eyes were hooded as she looked up at him, searching his face for any clue to what was going on. His blue eyes were intense and a small smirk played on his lips, and before she knew it, his lips were pressed against hers. Her eyes widened but closed once his hands found their way under her tank and up her back, her hands gripped on his biceps, pulling him closer to her. He stepped forward, making her step backwards, until her back was against the wall, his hips pinning her in place. It was a slow kiss, nothing too urgent, as she kissed back.  Y/N let out a moan when Bucky’s lips moved to her neck; biting, licking and kissing his way to her collarbone. The fingers found their way to his dark hair, and the expletives fell from her lips urged him as he removed her tank and discarding it on the floor. Y/N froze, then pushed him away, her arms covering her stomach, the only thing she was self-conscious about.
“Damn it, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands removing her arms away. He checked her out openingly, a smile spreading across his face causing the heat to spread down her chest as her head hung. “You don’t have to hide anything with me.” He tilted her chin for her to look at him and kissed her forehead before resting his against it. “You’re already perfect,” he whispered, his eyes looking into hers. She could feel herself blush, her eyes looking down at his trimmed chest, hands splayed across his pectorals, admiring how toned he was. Bucky tipped her chin up to have her eyes meet his again, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. He placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly, his face showed concern.
Y/N swallowed thickly and shook her head. “No, Bucky. I just don’t feel…”
“We can go to my room,” he interrupted, giving her that smile that made her weak.
“That sounds good,” she whispered, mirroring his smile. Bucky grabbed her hand and led her to his room, forgetting all their belongings at the track. She walked with her arms over her stomach his flesh arm around her shoulders. They made it to the corridor that lead to his room when he stopped her, taking her hand in his, forcing her to not hide. He brought her hand up to place a kiss the inside of her wrist before leaning in to claim her lips. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but she returned it with more earnest than he had thought she would. They were like a wrecking ball going down the hallway, barely keeping their hands to themselves, lips crashing against each other when they made it to his room.
Bucky pushed her up against the door, fumbling with the handle as his lips found Y/N’s sweet spot just behind her ear near her hairline. She let out a guttural moan, her hands pulling him closer to her, her need to feel him strong as ever. She stumbled back a bit when Bucky finally got the door open, but his grip on her kept her from straying too far from him. They shuffled into the room, Bucky kicking the door closed as his lips kissed along her jaw, pushing her against the door once again. “God, Y/N,” he murmured against her skin, “you’re fucking beautiful.” His one hand gripped her hip as his other slid up her side to her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze earning a moan from Y/N.
“Fuck,” she moaned as he pinched her nipple through her sports bra. The touch had her fingers digging into his back, her head falling forward onto his shoulder. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as he alternated between kneading and pinching, her body shaking with pleasure.
“I’ve been wanting you for a while now,” he murmured against her neck, his metal hand moved from her hip to slide a finger along the waistband of her shorts. He smirked when she let out a whimper and slipped his hand in, brushing his cool fingers lightly against her cloth covered clit.
“Damn it, Bucky,” she whined, his fingers circling the bundle of nerves causing her hips to roll immediately against his hand, her head banged against the door.
Bucky withdrew his hand causing Y/N to whimper which made him chuckle. “Patience,” he whispered, pulling her towards his bedroom.
“You’ve known me for years, Barnes. When did I ever have patience?” Y/N groaned, her eyes roamed over his muscular back, admiring each curve. Her gaze then went to his silver arm, biting her lip at how it moved. It always fascinated her, but she knew he hated the attention it got, especially the red star on the shoulder.
Bucky chuckled as he closed the door shut and cupped Y/N’s cheek; he leaned in and kissed her deeply. Not breaking the kiss, they blindly walked until her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she sat down. Bucky looked at her and smirked.
“You’re okay with this?” He asked, his hands rubbing her shoulders gently. She gulped and nodded, her arms covered her stomach, eyes fixed on his. Bucky stepped forward and stood between Y/N’s legs. She closed her eyes and her nose touched Bucky’s abs, his hands stroking her hair. “Y/N, you’ve always been beautiful,” he whispered, his hand caressed her cheek. “Everything about you is beautiful. So please…” He tilted her head to kiss her lips, and he knelt down. “Let me show you how beautiful you are to me,” he said, his face serious but he looked at her with a loving gaze. She nodded her approval letting Bucky push her down onto the bed. He gently moved her arms away from her stomach, pinning her hands above her head with his metal hand as he started to kiss her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
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akaiaowl-tales · 6 years
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Cloudy with a chance of silver lining (Modern Mileven College AU)
Cloudy with a chance of silver lining
Rating: T
Summary:  Only stupid people fall in love and if there’s something Jane ‘Eleven’ Brenner knows for sure is that she’s not stupid.
I.                    SANTA ANA
Thinking ‘bout the perfect sound.
Lately I’ve been taking my time just feeling the breeze of the sunny weather.
And it’s crazy.
 Her shoes barely scraped against the gravel as she walked fast through the street, taking her time to look around at the residential buildings on both of her sides and the nicely-kept gardens that decorated their entrance.
It was strangely quiet today, probably a symptom of the beginning of school season.
She was supposed to be jogging, after all, that’s what she’d told Max she would be doing.
Truth was, however, that she was half-heartedly attempting to power walk near Santa Ana beach, just listening to music and taking her time.
Lately, her roommate and best friend, Max Mayfield, had been pestering her nonstop because, apparently, she was a victim of what the redhead young woman called an “unhealthy sedentary routine”. Which, as it turns out, was something that could actually kill her early someday – Max, who was taking it seriously enough for the two of them, had even showed her a few statistics and a documentary about it.
Faced with such a dramatic situation and taking into account that her friend wasn’t taking it nearly seriously enough, Max had taken it upon herself to pester her daily into having what she called a “better and healthier lifestyle”. Which was something that, despite all her sarcastic jokes and grumpiness and annoyance, she actually appreciated. She’d never really had anyone caring about her eating or exercise habits and it was kind of nice to feel someone giving a shit about stuff like that, giving a shit about her.
However, Max – and her hyperactive demeanor – could be overwhelming at times, especially to someone as lazy and careless as her.
It wasn’t really that she hated exercising. No, it was more that she saw no real, practical reason to do it. Plus, she hated sweating.
She figured that exercise would finally come in useful if like, for some remote reason, there was a zombie apocalypse… or the Pacific Ocean suddenly overflowed. But since none of those scenarios seemed plausible enough, she’d long ago decided that dedicating time to stuff like that was pointless and therefore settled into her “sedentary” routine.
All of those years of barely any activity, nonetheless, did seem to have taken a toll on her. She remembered that she was a decent – not good but not humiliatingly bad either – runner back in high school. Right now, however, her calves were starting to ache, despite her walk only having lasted about an hour.
This sucks so much, she thought in annoyance as she turned up the volume of the random song she was currently listening to in an attempt to take her mind of the discomfort in her unused muscles.
She walked for a few more minutes before finally stopping.
As she slowly breathed in and out, she admired the pink and orange hues mingling together in the sky. It was a peaceful sight, a pretty one. Something breathtaking in comparison to the sunsets back at home. She’d never considered herself a cheesy person but, right now, all she wanted to do was sit for a minute and listen to her (awesome) playlist and stare out into the ocean.
She had to admit that this was definitely better than staying locked away at home, which she probably would be right now if it weren’t for Max’s stubbornness.
Reassured by the emptiness of the streets and the overall quietness, she climbed over the ludicrous brick fence that divided the sidewalk from the cliff. She was very well aware that, despite the fact that the “fence” was mostly there for decoration – seeing as it was barely as high as her waist (and she was rather on the smaller side) – what she was doing was most likely forbidden.
It had been quite a long time since she’d given in to her reckless impulses like that. It’d been years even.
The beach was a few good meters down and she smiled as she sat on the soft grass, at the least steep part of the slope. To her left, she could see a few people paragliding. The way the wind swayed their bodies like boneless rag dolls seemed so surreal from where she sat at the moment. She couldn’t help but get lost in thought.
“Is everything alright over there?” a faint voice asked.
It was way too easy to ignore it.
They are probably not even talking to me.
“Are you ok?” the stranger’s voice sounded a lot closer now, there was no way they weren’t talking to her.
She turned around, with every intention to tell whoever it was to mind their own business and leave her alone.
Concerned dark brown eyes were the first feature she focused on the second she turned around with an annoyed stance. Dark, observant eyes that somehow seemed to perfectly match the pale face of the worried boy who was currently staring at her from the other side of the rope fence.
She could actually feel all the anger and annoyance in her demeanor immediately dissolve, the bitchy remark dying on her lips.
“I’m just… I’m fine,” she answered with a weak smile, looking down and trying not to stare at his face like a creep.
But he was cute.
Cute in a nerdy way, but cute nevertheless.
He seemed the weird kind of familiar. The kind of familiar one would feel about an old preschool classmate, or about someone that once stood out to you as you walked down the street. She blinked a little in confusion. She was trying to figure out why his face ringed a bell while, at the same time, trying not to appear like a complete moron to him.
He climbed off his bike and hesitantly got closer to the fence – which looked even shorter and useless next to his ridiculously tall frame.
“Is it too nosy of me to ask why you are over there?” he wondered, looking warily at the beach and the cliff she was currently sitting by.
“Yeah, it is sort of nosy,” she blurted out without really intending to.
He’s going to think I’m such a bitch, she thought with concern.
She scoffed at her uncharacteristic thought shortly after, Why do I care? Let him think I’m a rue bitch.
However, Bicycle Guy blushed.
Cute, the uncalled for thought just popped into her head, catching her off guard and leaving her speechless for a moment.
“I was just taking a break from walking,” she finally offered with a hesitant smile.
Of course he wouldn’t want to know that the beauty of the sky drew me in during my fake jogging session, she thought darkly.
“So you sit in the verge of a precipice every time you take a break?” he joked.
She glanced at him and couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at her lips.
Why am I acting so fucking weird?
She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt this insecure –not even right before the interview before getting admitted to college, she recalled.
“It’s far enough from the edge, actually,” she said rather dryly, glancing at the beach bellow.
A few moments passed in silence.
There also was this weird sinking, tickling feeling in her stomach. It was unsettling.
Then she heard a clank metallic noise, as of something had dropped on the ground.
“It unnerves me to see you over there,” he confessed as he took a hesitant step in her general direction.
She was still looking at the beach ahead.
“How do you think those people feel?” she asked randomly, gesturing towards the people swaying several feet above the ground, the very people she’d been observing.
“Huh?”
“I always sort of wondered what it felt like to fly, isn’t that close enough?” she whispered, as she turned to glance at the rapidly darkening sky once more.
“Probably but, uh, I heard that wing suit flying is the closest,” Bicycle Guy said, scratching his jaw thoughtfully.
“If I had to choose a superpower, it’d be flying,” she casually said.
“Really? That brings up so many things!” he blurted out excitedly.
“For instance, do you mean flying because you’d grow wings like Archangel, The Wasp, or Pixie? Or flying because you could somehow manipulate gravity like Graviton? Or maybe by wind control like Stor-”
However, as he glanced at her and registered the look of utter confusion on her face, he abruptly stopped and cast his eyes downwards.
“I’m such a nerd,” he said apologetically, his pale freckled cheeks reddening by the second.
“Oh, it’s alright,” she answered with a smile, for the record, she had actually thought it was pretty damn adorable, “really.”
Bicycle Guy, however, did not seem to think the same. He was still blushing as he bent down to pick up his bike, which had lain forgotten down on the pavement.
Her heartbeat sped up in sudden incomprehensible panic.
What the actual fuck?
She didn’t want him to leave.
I don’t even know the guy!
Oh but maybe she did? What was that weird feeling she had when she first saw him? It was like she recognized him somehow… her gut kept telling her that she did, and if she trusted something it was her instincts (they were never wrong).
Say something, anything.
“I’d never actually thought about the mechanics of the whole flying thing,” she commented, “which one of those you mentioned is the best?”
At that, he stopped fidgeting with his bicycle and propped it carefully against the concrete fence as he pondered about all the choices. After what seemed an eternity, his excited dark eyes once again settled on hers.
“Well, flying through wind control like Storm sounds awesome, especially since she can control the weather,” he answered offering her a small smile.
She smiled back at him, finding his boyish excitement amusing.
For a while, he continued to ramble on about all the different powers that could allow people to fly. Surprisingly, and despite never having been a big fan of superhero movies or comics, she found herself hanging on to his every word.
She wished she could feel such passion for something.
“–but… I definitely think I’d like flying like Justice,” he continued, grinning at the very idea, “he’s a telekinetic and he can use his power on himself to fly really fast and even carry people and heavy stuff… it’s awesome.”
They went on to talk about what it would be like to have secret powers and, before long, the sky went dark and the lights of the street became the main sources of light. Absentmindedly, she glanced at the time on her phone and realized it was already late. Really, really late. Later than she’d planned on returning. Max would probably be worried if she didn’t make it in ten more minutes.
She hated the fact that she’d have to cut her conversation with Bicycle Guy short – it was the longest she’d had with anyone in a while –, but she figured it was best to walk home now rather than later.
“Do you have to go?” he asked, almost immediately perceiving it from her fidgety behavior.
“Actually, I do,” she answered getting up from her place on the grassy area.
All that time, he’d been casually leaning against the brick fence that divided the sidewalk and the broad edge of the cliff. He readily offered her his hand to help her jump down from over the rustic fence she had managed to get perched over. She took it without hesitation, despite not really needing the extra help (the fence was not even that high).
“I had a good time,” she smiled, still not letting go of his hand, “we should do this again.”
He blushed a deep red and just blinked at her stupidly, his brain trying and failing to come up with something to say.
Without waiting for him to answer, she turned around and jogged away.
--…--…--…--
She’s not easy to find and if I see her again
We should get together.
 His mind was working overdrive as he pedaled home.
What does it mean? Does she want to see me again? I didn’t even ask for her name, he thought thinking back to his conversation with the girl that had (in the span of a couple of hours) pretty much become the girl of his dreams.
Not only was she beautiful – probably the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen –, but she was really nice and overall his dream girl. For hell’s sake, she had even seemed interested in his nerdy chatter! And that was really saying something, since most girls he’d tried talking to about comic books and superheroes vanished faster than he could say “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters”.
…Well, thinking back on that one, he reckoned that maybe he and his overall weirdness (and not comic books and superheroes) were the actual reasons the girls vanished. His friends would probably agree on that, too.
He just wasn’t good at small talk and he was really, really awkward around girls… especially around the ones he considered pretty.
And man, had that girl at the beach been pretty. How could he even begin to explain it? She was pretty in a simple, unassuming way. Pretty in the way all of her features – despite their individual imperfections – fit together in the most breathtaking, perfect way.
In a daze, he remembered her soft, brown hair barely falling past her shoulders and those two cute dimples that appeared on the corners of her lips and mouth when she smiled. And the way she’d actually been enraptured throughout his superhero ramble, which was probably due to his amazing story-telling skills – something he’d never been prouder about.  
Plus, she was smart and funny too, he could tell from her witty remarks and sarcastic answers. And her lively almond eyes had lit up captivatingly when she talked about flying and when he explained why he’d choose his superpower to be telekinesis (he had ultimately managed to convince her that it was the best thing ever).
And she’d said she’d like to see him again.
But left without introducing herself, or giving him the chance to ask for her name.
What does it mean?
There was definitely a connection, he thought dreamily before mentally slapping himself for having such stupid and cheesy thoughts.
When he finally got to his building, the climb up the flight of stairs carrying his bike didn’t seem as tiring, long and tedious as it always did. He was dying to discuss this recent turn of events with his three best friends (who also happened to be his roommates); he was pretty sure they’d probably have a better idea of what the heck had actually happened and what he was supposed to do.
However, when he entered the narrow door of his shared apartment, the only one on the living room was Dustin. His curly-haired friend was currently playing a videogame and screaming at the screen in frustration.
“Mike you’re making me lose!” he said as a way of greeting.
“What?!” Mike exclaimed in fake indignation, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, “I barely even walked in.”
“Well you’ve jinxed me somehow!”
Mike smiled at his frustrated friend, as he made his way to his room.
“Son of a bitch!” he heard Dustin screaming at the TV before he closed his bedroom door and plopped down on his partially made bed.
It seemed that his talk would have to wait for the time being.
--…--…--…--
Baby we could stay in the sun, maybe if you want we could go downtown.
Baby I’ve been dreaming ‘bout you and I’m feeling naïve of the sunny weather.
 The first thing she did as soon as she got home was drink a lot of water. It was incredible just how dehydrated she’d become after the jog home.
Max watched her best friend from the living room couch she was currently lounging in.
“Was the workout that intense?” she asked, lifting a red eyebrow in amusement.
As an answer, she gave her friend a dirty look.
“Anyhow, I’m proud of you, El,” Max said honestly, “I knew you had it in you.”
“I won’t get used to this,” she replied miserably as she joined her redhead friend on the living room.
“You will, and you’ll feel better because of it,” the redhead said condescendingly.
El threw one of the nearby pillows at her.
The redhead easily dodged it.
“Stop treating me like a baby,” El complained loudly.
Max stuck her tongue out at her.
“I had been willing to forget that today is your turn to cook us dinner but since you don’t want to be treated like a baby…”
“Oh fine, but I’m going to take a shower first,” she said, getting up from the couch and rolling her eyes. Everyone knew how much she hated cooking.
As El stood under the hot spray of the shower, lathering her wavy hair, her mind couldn’t help but obsessively replay the moment Bicycle Guy and she had briefly held hands. She’d gotten weird tingles on her palm. It was uncomfortable. Now that there was no other distraction, the tingling seemed to only get stronger somehow. With a huff, she tried scratching her hand.
Weird.
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kpopkrappykraftbin · 7 years
Text
It Wasn’t the First Time
Chapter  3
Junhui x Reader
Mild Language
Word Count: 1517
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4
I’m on a roll, whether that’s a good one or a bad one I’m not sure, but here you go
   The informant ran impossibly faster than you had expected. Sure his long legs just about doubled your stride but you considered yourself pretty quick. Your job demanded it of you. But your employer whom you had only seen sedentary ran quickly just in front of you not showing signs of tiring or looking back. Trying to not let your paranoia distract you, you searched for the street sign that would signal the beginning of your act. Your new escapee companion must have saw it before you because he grabbed your hand to bring you closer to him without slowing. A few more strides and you saw the turn off.
   Stepping onto the populated street, you matched your pace to your employers now manageable strides. He flipped his hood up as he leaned towards you while still scanning your surroundings.
   “We’ll walk this way until the donut shop on Calico. Someone will be there to pick us up. Until then keep your head down and if we’re stopped, let me do the talking. If I say run, run. We can meet up at Calico, but do not approach the man waiting there, he will shoot. He’s expecting both of us but mostly me, he knows my face.” You didn’t respond as he straightened back to his full height, only staring forward head tilted slightly down. Your eyes still scanned about, trying not to let your heavy breathing bring any unwanted attention.
   ‘How was he not winded? Since when did the weasel have any endurance?’
   He looked relaxed, at least if you didn’t stare at him for too long. The lines around his eyes showed his underlying stress. His shoulders moved with his gait but the tension could still be detected. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, raising a single eyebrow. He was teasing you. He had caught you staring. Nice to know he hadn’t given up on getting on your nerves, even in such a stressful situation. You looked straight ahead again.
   “If I had known that all it would take for you to admire my heroic figure was to drag you out your apartment window after being shot at, I would have manufactured some scenario years ago. Enjoying the view of your savior?” His amused whisper sounded right next to your ear, almost making you jump.
   “We’re not safe yet. And I have a feeling you’re the reason I’m in this mess anyways so I wouldn’t exactly call you my hero.” you rolled your eyes. The man leaned his arm around your shoulders heavily, weighing you down.
   “Head down. You’re right, we’re not safe yet. And you didn’t bring a damn hoodie, so you’re vulnerable.” He hissed frustratedly at you. You tried to follow his instructions while catching a glance at his face. He had obviously seen something that set him off. “They don’t know your face yet, let’s try to keep it that way.” he continued softer, hurrying our pace along just slightly. “There’s a man following us on the other side of the street, make sure to keep your face down and angled away from him. We’re almost there.”
   You couldn’t tell why he felt the need to walk you through the goings on. The only idea you had was that he was talking off his own nerves. But to think that he was that shaken up was farfetched even in light of the day’s events so far. Maybe it wasn’t that unlikely, he was obviously more stressed than you had ever seen him. Like a wire ready to snap. But you didn’t want to think that something could actually make him that worried, he had always been carefree-- careless even but always cool, always collected, always in control.
   That was it. He, for once, didn’t have control of the situation, something neither of you were apparently accustomed to.That thought scared you even more.
   “This way.” your employer steered you right down the alley before reaching the donut shop. Slipping past the garbage bins around the back of the building you saw a taxi waiting. “Phone.” knowing his plans you handed over your mobile. He snapped it as expected. That didn’t make you any less bitter about it as you quietly huffed at him. You knew the reason but if they didn’t know your face, would they be able to get a hold of your phone to trace it? Looks like your male counterpart wasn’t taking the chance.
   Nonchalantly tossing the broken piece of somewhat dated technology over his shoulder, your lanky employer turned to look at the taxi; you followed his gaze to see someone stepping out of the car. He was slender possibly more than your employer, though he was a bit shorter, his face held a sharp expression as he looked between the two of you. You heard a large intake of breath beside you.
   “Oh my best friend, Ming-”
   “The8. Get in the car, dumbass.”
   The more lithe man cut off your companion’s over the top welcoming act. His arms that had been thrown wide in greeting drooped only slightly for a moment before letting them fall to his sides completely. Seemingly having decided that haste was the best choice he hustled you over to the car opening a door for you to get into before shoving his own body through the same door scooting you over almost roughly.
   The informant’s ….friend… The8, he called himself, silently opened the driver’s door to get in. As soon as he took a seat the taxi was speeding away to someplace at least unknown to you. You wanted to ask where you were heading but the aura coming from the front of the car bid you to not disturb the choking silence. While being in the car made you less paranoid of being jumped or shot at, it did little for your nerves, in fact you were pretty sure the silence of the car was worse than running from the gun. It left you to contemplate the mess you must be in. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the man beside you who was currently leaning his head all the way back against the headrest with his eyes closed.
   “The8, cool it with the deadly silence, you’re making the car ride unenjoyable.” the weasel spoke languidly if not a bit haughtily to his… friend.
   ‘Does the grease weasel even actually have friends?’
   This guy definitely doesn’t seem the type to voluntarily hang out with the annoyance you’ve put up with for years.
   “Oh, I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? Would you like a pillow to make the rest of your ride escaping almost certain death a little more pleasant? Can I offer you some complimentary peanuts, you selfish tyrant of an informant? Do you realize how much is being risked just to help you and your thief? Be grateful Boss hasn’t ordered you thrown in the bay with rocks in your stomach y-y-yet!” the driver’s voiced raised quickly over the course of his tirade as his foot pressed increasingly heavier on the gas pedal. His eyes never leaving the road. Heaving a big sigh before searching for the informants stare in the rearview mirror, he continued in an almost worried tone “You’re in some real trouble, man. It’s not a joke.”
   ‘Maybe they are friends.’ you wondered at the care in his voice.
   “I know. And I don’t take it as one, but there’s no need to worry about the details before we discuss things. I know your boss will be interested in what I have to say. This information is obviously sensitive, that’s why I came to your family for protection--”
   “Bastard.”
   ‘Or not’ you concluded.
   “But trust me when I say that S.Coups will want what I have.” he paused to emphasize his seriousness.
   You stared directly at your employer who had sat up to deliver his speech. He held gazes with The8 through the rearview mirror. It was when the driver broke contact to divert his full attention to the road that he turned his head to look you in the eyes.
   “You’ll be okay.” he tried to convince you, looking the most earnest you had ever seen him, or anyone for that matter. He grabbed both your hands in his giving you a nod of reassurance. Normally you would would have been grossed out by any sort of physical touch from your grease weasel. But this wasn’t the typical come on. For once having him close calmed you for some reason. You contemplated this, staring unmovingly at your hands lightly enclosed in his. He stared at your expression unbeknownst to you.
   For now you would have to at least bend your rule. Trust no one… except for the grease weasel… and only because this was a life or death situation!
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malyxsoulpersonal · 7 years
Text
It Wasn’t the First Time
Chapter  2
Junhui x Reader
Mild Language
Word Count: 1517
I’m on a roll, whether that’s a good one or a bad one I’m not sure, but here you go
    The informant ran impossibly faster than you had expected. Sure his long legs just about doubled your stride but you considered yourself pretty quick. Your job demanded it of you. But your employer whom you had only seen sedentary ran quickly just in front of you not showing signs of tiring or looking back. Trying to not let your paranoia distract you, you searched for the street sign that would signal the beginning of your act. Your new escapee companion must have saw it before you because he grabbed your hand to bring you closer to him without slowing. A few more strides and you saw the turn off.
    Stepping onto the populated street, you matched your pace to your employers now manageable strides. He flipped his hood up as he leaned towards you while still scanning your surroundings.
    “We’ll walk this way until the donut shop on Calico. Someone will be there to pick us up. Until then keep your head down and if we’re stopped, let me do the talking. If I say run, run. We can meet up at Calico, but do not approach the man waiting there, he will shoot. He’s expecting both of us but mostly me, he knows my face.” You didn’t respond as he straightened back to his full height, only staring forward head tilted slightly down. Your eyes still scanned about, trying not to let your heavy breathing bring any unwanted attention.
    ‘How was he not winded? Since when did the weasel have any endurance?’
    He looked relaxed, at least if you didn’t stare at him for too long. The lines around his eyes showed his underlying stress. His shoulders moved with his gait but the tension could still be detected. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, raising a single eyebrow. He was teasing you. He had caught you staring. Nice to know he hadn’t given up on getting on your nerves, even in such a stressful situation. You looked straight ahead again.
    “If I had known that all it would take for you to admire my heroic figure was to drag you out your apartment window after being shot at, I would have manufactured some scenario years ago. Enjoying the view of your savior?” His amused whisper sounded right next to your ear, almost making you jump.
    “We’re not safe yet. And I have a feeling you’re the reason I’m in this mess anyways so I wouldn’t exactly call you my hero.” you rolled your eyes. The man leaned his arm around your shoulders heavily, weighing you down.
    “Head down. You’re right, we’re not safe yet. And you didn’t bring a damn hoodie, so you’re vulnerable.” He hissed frustratedly at you. You tried to follow his instructions while catching a glance at his face. He had obviously seen something that set him off. “They don’t know your face yet, let’s try to keep it that way.” he continued softer, hurrying our pace along just slightly. “There’s a man following us on the other side of the street, make sure to keep your face down and angled away from him. We’re almost there.”
    You couldn’t tell why he felt the need to walk you through the goings on. The only idea you had was that he was talking off his own nerves. But to think that he was that shaken up was farfetched even in light of the day’s events so far. Maybe it wasn’t that unlikely, he was obviously more stressed than you had ever seen him. Like a wire ready to snap. But you didn’t want to think that something could actually make him that worried, he had always been carefree-- careless even but always cool, always collected, always in control.
    That was it. He, for once, didn’t have control of the situation, something neither of you were apparently accustomed to.That thought scared you even more.
    “This way.” your employer steered you right down the alley before reaching the donut shop. Slipping past the garbage bins around the back of the building you saw a taxi waiting. “Phone.” knowing his plans you handed over your mobile. He snapped it as expected. That didn’t make you any less bitter about it as you quietly huffed at him. You knew the reason but if they didn’t know your face, would they be able to get a hold of your phone to trace it? Looks like your male counterpart wasn’t taking the chance.
    Nonchalantly tossing the broken piece of somewhat dated technology over his shoulder, your lanky employer turned to look at the taxi; you followed his gaze to see someone stepping out of the car. He was slender possibly more than your employer, though he was a bit shorter, his face held a sharp expression as he looked between the two of you. You heard a large intake of breath beside you.
    “Oh my best friend, Ming-”
    “The8. Get in the car, dumbass.”
    The more lithe man cut off your companion’s over the top welcoming act. His arms that had been thrown wide in greeting drooped only slightly for a moment before letting them fall to his sides completely. Seemingly having decided that haste was the best choice he hustled you over to the car opening a door for you to get into before shoving his own body through the same door scooting you over almost roughly.
    The informant’s ….friend… The8, he called himself, silently opened the driver’s door to get in. As soon as he took a seat the taxi was speeding away to someplace at least unknown to you. You wanted to ask where you were heading but the aura coming from the front of the car bid you to not disturb the choking silence. While being in the car made you less paranoid of being jumped or shot at, it did little for your nerves, in fact you were pretty sure the silence of the car was worse than running from the gun. It left you to contemplate the mess you must be in. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the man beside you who was currently leaning his head all the way back against the headrest with his eyes closed.
    “The8, cool it with the deadly silence, you’re making the car ride unenjoyable.” the weasel spoke languidly if not a bit haughtily to his… friend.
    ‘Does the grease weasel even actually have friends?’
    This guy definitely doesn’t seem the type to voluntarily hang out with the annoyance you’ve put up with for years.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? Would you like a pillow to make the rest of your ride escaping almost certain death a little more pleasant? Can I offer you some complimentary peanuts, you selfish tyrant of an informant? Do you realize how much is being risked just to help you and your thief? Be grateful Boss hasn’t ordered you thrown in the bay with rocks in your stomach y-y-yet!” the driver’s voiced raised quickly over the course of his tirade as his foot pressed increasingly heavier on the gas pedal. His eyes never leaving the road. Heaving a big sigh before searching for the informants stare in the rearview mirror, he continued in an almost worried tone “You’re in some real trouble, man. It’s not a joke.”
    ‘Maybe they are friends.’ you wondered at the care in his voice.
    “I know. And I don’t take it as one, but there’s no need to worry about the details before we discuss things. I know your boss will be interested in what I have to say. This information is obviously sensitive, that’s why I came to your family for protection--”
    “Bastard.”
    ‘Or not’ you concluded.
    “But trust me when I say that S.Coups will want what I have.” he paused to emphasize his seriousness.
    You stared directly at your employer who had sat up to deliver his speech. He held gazes with The8 through the rearview mirror. It was when the driver broke contact to divert his full attention to the road that he turned his head to look you in the eyes.
    “You’ll be okay.” he tried to convince you, looking the most earnest you had ever seen him, or anyone for that matter. He grabbed both your hands in his giving you a nod of reassurance. Normally you would would have been grossed out by any sort of physical touch from your grease weasel. But this wasn’t the typical come on. For once having him close calmed you for some reason. You contemplated this, staring unmovingly at your hands lightly enclosed in his. He stared at your expression unbeknownst to you.
    For now you would have to at least bend your rule. Trust no one… except for the grease weasel… and only because this was a life or death situation!
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vestedbeauty · 4 years
Text
Midlife Rage: Because That Is Most Definitely NOT William Devane
New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/midlife-rage-because-that-is-most-definitely-not-william-devane/
Midlife Rage: Because That Is Most Definitely NOT William Devane
Beating this periodic midlife rage thing is going to take some practice. Or bail money.
Ever shock your normally even-tempered and rational self with the realization you’ve become a fire-breathing midlife rage dragon? Damn, I hate when that happens.
But there we were, watching bad sci-fi, my sweet hubby and I.
The bad guy had just revealed his devious plan for… well, I can’t remember what he was up to, really.
“Oh, that’s William Devane,” hubby said.
No. It was most definitely not.
Fight or flight mode hit me hard. Like when I watch a horror film (through the gaps between my hands covering my eyes), I begged myself to be reasonable. Do NOT go into the dark. Don’t do it, girl. You’ll be sorry. This cannot end well. It’s not too late to…
Oh, but go, I did.
“You’re crazy, that’s not him. You always think it’s some other actor than who it is. Can’t you just watch the damned show and not make bold proclamations that are utterly incorrect?”
I went. 
Only in my mind, thank goodness for small wins.
Yup, wearing my annnnngry eyes.
Why So Grumpy?
To be clear:
Do I give a flying hoot about William Devane? No.
About sci-fi filmology? Absolutely not.
About being right? Ooooh. Busted.
And about my sweet hubby’s feelings and the relationship we are so consciously, carefully building? YES. Definitely, absolutely, and emphatically, yes. 
This is the man I chose to marry, not even a year ago. He’s the man I admire, respect, cherish, and enjoy. He’s the one I’ll go from midlife crank to elderly crone with… assuming I don’t push the self-destruct button on this marriage with this ridiculous prickliness. He is kind, brilliant, creative, strong, handsome, funny, sexy, deep, daring, principled, and fun.
Yet for some reason, midlife me sometimes kind of wants to go all Daenerys Targaryen on him (of all people) and scorch his wrong-actor-guessing ass into next week. To be honest, sometimes I let some of the flames loose. Not a full vent, but snappish enough that it’s shocking to both of us. And enough that I feel devastated, shocked, and betrayed by my own midlife-mad self. At this moment, I TOTALLY get Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes.
youtube
Only You Can Prevent Midlife Rage Forest Fires
We’ve talked about this, hubby and I. It’s painful even to remember how I’ve shown up during these crazy-headed scorched earth moments. Of course, he thought it was him, that he’d disappointed me somehow. It’s not him.
I mean, sure, he misidentifies actors. But is that REALLY a scorchable offense?
No way. But I know that if I don’t figure this out, I will torch everything I love, everything I hold dear, everything I’ve worked so hard to create. And that kind of midlife crisis – of my own making – is absolutely not okay.
I’m no stranger to personal development – current midlife bizarreness aside. Though I’ve created a life I love, sometimes something’s not working right in my mind. Maybe it’s hormones, and I’m going to look into that. 
Hormones or not, this is an experience I need to look at and understand so I can be and do better. I want to show up like me, with my normal level of weird rather than this super-sized serving of crazy. It’s definitely not him. That means it’s up to me to figure this out.
A (Not-So) Shocking Discovery about Midlife Rage
Stick with me a sec here.
As an empty nester, it’s been a kick to design my life. Our life. We get up without an alarm because we both work from home and own businesses. Usually, it’s about six or so. 
We eat far more culinarily interesting foods than we ever did when we were raising our families. 
Bedtime is – don’t laugh too hard – literally when our flock of chickens puts themselves to bed, around eight. I read a while, then sleep and get a solid eight hours each night. (I know midlife women often struggle to rack up enough zzzz’s, and someday I’ll tell you how I do it.)
Our house is cleaner than any I’ve ever kept. It helps a whole LOT that we have a wonderful cleaning lady who keeps on top of it all. I putter and clean and tidy up more than ever, but she’s the one who does the real work.
Puttering, in fact, has become a favorite part of my days. It’s therapeutic for me to create and maintain order. It’s also one way I get more movement into my day (I’m super sedentary during my work hours – I’m a writer).
You wouldn’t walk in and go, “WOW, that’s a clean house!” but most days you also wouldn’t run screaming from the mess.
I’ve discovered that I like order. In fact, I thrive in it.
Everything in its place, and a place for everything. 
I’m ruthless about decluttering. As a minimalist, it’s easy to feel suffocated by too much stuff. I’m also not all that fancy. OK, not fancy at all. I despise shopping. So, we don’t have the mountain of stuff many couples have. 
But while I seem to thrive on routine and tidiness, there’s a dark side that shows up in my thoughts. It shows itself in the form of a control freak. That feels like a new one for me.
OMG, I’m Procrustes
So, in Greek mythology, there was a baddie named Procrustes. He was infamous for his bed practices. (Not that kind.) He’d force his victims onto a bed, then either stretch them to fit it perfectly – or cut off any bits that hung over. Nice guy.
Oh. Nice me.
Turns out, I’m cool as long as everything fits my notions about what should be, cool. Same with anything else that might need to sync up.
But if something sticks out – or in, really – into the bubble of my thoughts, especially if I’m concentrating, indulging in story-driven entertainment, or if I’m lost in thought while mulling a work challenge… it’s time to sound the smoke alarm. Danger, Will Robinson!
Unless I notice the warning signs and take action to extinguish the blaze.
Well, Whaddya Know
Here’s what happens when I catch those sparks before they go wild. Something happens. I perceive it. Then I have a thought about it that sure seems to be entirely valid and accurate. Next, there’s a feeling followed by a surge of energy that demands release. 
Are you kidding me? THIS again? This is the same freaky way my brain behaved when I had a binge eating disorder. How on earth do I not have this solved and beat it for good?
Oh. It’s the way the human brain works. OK, fine. At least I’ve got the tools that worked every single time I’ve ever actually bothered to use them.
Rather than fly off the handle (or eat two rows of Oreos while standing over the sink with a glass of cold milk), I can stop for a moment and go:
Hey brain, whatcha doing here?
Oh, you have a thought. Cool. Let’s hear it.
My, that’s an interesting one.
Is there possibly another way to look at this? Or do you really just want to go ahead and do that thing you think you want to do? I mean, you can but make sure you realize you have a choice in this.
That’s kind of the gist of it. It’s a matter of throwing the brake lever on the train long enough to make an intentional choice about what comes next. I’ve been up and down the tracks long enough to know where they head, and how hard it can be to stop that freight train if I reach a certain point.
And really, despite all appearances when I’m in the throes of a temper tantrum, I’m typically a very happy and chill person. I adore my husband and enjoy him thoroughly. It’s a delight to live in my skin, because I’ve chosen it to be that way.
So, if all I need to do in the heat of fury is to take a beat to breathe and choose, that’s pretty doable. That doesn’t mean I’ll always do it, or even remember to do it. But if I choose not to master my own mind and the experiences I create, life’s going to suck… by choice. Sounds worth it to me.
This Is Not Entirely Unfamiliar Territory
I have many, many, many happy memories of my grandparents, and I was blessed to have most of them around well into my 40’s. But I also have memories of incidents that were puzzling at the time – and now make sense – of my grandmother whipping out a dragon of her own. My grandfather would be telling a story. She’d interject corrections throughout. It wasn’t that day, that place, that person, that meal, that… Every single detail of his story was subject to her correction. I always felt bad for him when it would happen, and annoyed with her for creating such an unpleasant situation for everyone witnessing it.
Fast-forward a few decades, and I’m about to flip my shit over not-William-Devane. I am utterly grateful for this bad memory of Grandmommy because it’s like a canary in the coal mine for me. She did her very best, and did so without the world of personal development that I can access with a few clicks. She didn’t have podcasts, blogs, videos or books aplenty to help her sort her grumpy midlife self out.
I do.
And I will.
And if you’re also finding yourself baffled by your own sudden snappish tendencies and sudden midlife rage, maybe we can figure this out together. It might save lives. 
Want to Do this Together? (I promise not to breathe fire on you!)
If you were to examine this blog closely, you’d notice a humongous gap between posts. Before, to be honest, I had in mind to build an affiliate site and nothing more. I had several sites going, covering everything from gifts to health to pet rats to magical uses of marijuana (we’ll talk about that someday if you want). It was exhausting. There was no way to keep up. Shiny object syndrome had me in perpetual busyness, but it was like running on a treadmill – it went nowhere.
Now, there’s another driver. I’m realizing that maybe I don’t have to have this midlife thing sorted out. Let alone the whole midlife rage thing. But, there’s no need to be an authority. No requirement to have all the answers. Instead, I can just document this journey and report back the discoveries back to you.
Pretty much every midlife woman I know has a lot of puzzles to solve. (I’ve adopted that distinction – a very smart guy I work for says, “There are no problems, just puzzles.”) Being an alliteration addict, I’ve got a bunch of M’s that fit here. 
As midlife women, we’re sorting out our:
Mindset
Movement
Metabolism
Mind (like, how it functions)
Marriage
Money
Makeup and hair
Mission (why are you here?)
Meals
And a bunch more, like our kids, grandkids (someday), friends, etc. They don’t fit neatly into those M’s… though I swear I will find a way! (Darnit… Procrustes has ways but let’s not go there!)
Anyhow, if you’re up for taking a wild and all-over-the-place ride with me, let’s do it. I sure can’t promise it’s going to be smooth, consistent, or pretty. But that’s kind of alright, too. We can just show up as-is, be real, and grow together. 
Deal?
P.S. I just showed this post to my sweet hubby. He liked it. Then he muttered, “I still think it was William Devane.” Guess he’s a little pig-headed, too.
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newidaho · 5 years
Text
7.  The New Idaho Museum of Oddities
Don’t have the time/patience/desire to read with your eyes? Don’t have eyes? Well, have your friend read you this:  You can check out the audiobook for free on Apple, Google, Stitcher, or Spotify.  Subscribe for new episodes every Wednesday!
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20 December 2054
Johnna Johnson had only been at work for 5 hours, but time was moving quickly.  After all, she was getting paid to do essentially what she did at home.  That was the beauty of the New Idaho Museum of Oddities—they gave you a comfy seat, some snacks, and they didn’t ask that you do anything but show off your Oddity.
Like many in NIMO, Johnna’s ‘Oddity’ was her weight.  Truthfully, Johnna considered this rather offensive, but the ease of the job made it worth the degrading job description most days.  And at 375 pounds, Johnna was well qualified to ride in the trailer.
Most days, it wasn’t so bad.  Johnna sat down in her seat, watched a Virtual Movie through her Lenses, read a Virtual Book, or browsed the internet.  An entire Virtual World lay just behind her Lenses.  It wasn’t a problem to spend six hours without moving around.  Who liked to move, anyway?
Johnna had always been quite heavy.  She was born in 2024 to John Johnson, a single father in Southern Idaho.  Having grown up on a farm, Johnna had had every opportunity to eat healthy growing up.  John, however, had never enforced this habit, and by the time Johnna learned the health benefits to eating her father’s crops, she was already well addicted to the junk food that was always kept around the house.
Johnna’s father had scrapped together enough money to move to New Idaho in 2030, already sensing that it might be the next big thing, and he brought the 6-year-old Johnna with him into the mountain ring.  He only had enough money to buy a small plot of land in Southern New Idaho.  Though farming was a much more lucrative profession in New Idaho than it was in the rest of the state, the size of John’s land was good for hardly more than subsistence farming with a very small profit on the side.  
As a farmer in New Idaho, John was exempt from all taxes, and was therefore able to live comfortably.  Johnna, however, was still heavily bothered by her family’s lack of upward mobility and became obsessed with the rich Lucid Labs children at Sky High.  In her attempts to jumpstart her own social mobility, Johnna went seeking attention wherever she could get it.  
During this quest for recognition, Johnna wound up pregnant at 17 by a man who subsequently wanted nothing to do with her.  She was too proud to take child support (a move she later sorely regretted).  The last she had heard, the father had gone to University out of state, and had never returned to New Idaho.  This was probably for the best—she couldn’t imagine him coming into the MoF to see her now.
Johnna kept her pregnancy a secret from her father as long as she could, but after 8 months, and with no way to hide the inevitable physical manifestation of her mistake, she came clean to her father, who immediately expelled her from his house.  He hardly had enough money to take care of Johnna, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to pay for her sin.
Johnna found opportunity to visit her father a couple more times before his death in 2043.  Charlie, her child, was 2.  He would never know his father or his grandfather.  Charlie and his mother were all the family either of them had in the world.  
In search of a new family, Johnna stumbled upon FuTech Christian Church.  It was a beautiful opportunity—not only did their message provide her with hope going forward, but she never had to meet any of the congregation in person.  She could appear or disappear as she wished while she took in the messages.  She knew that many of those she saw in service were connected to the local network, but many also came from out of town, interested to see what a FuTech Service from New Idaho looked like.  This provided Johnna with a diverse community who only wished to build her up as she went through her always-difficult time raising Charlie.  They even offered him free enrollment on need-based scholarship to the FuTech Virtual Home School.
Thus, through her drive, her faith, and her gig with NIMO, Johnna had carved out a decent survival for her and her son.
The time was nearing 1400h, and there had been a good bit of traffic.  The New Idaho Mall was still rather busy with last-minute shoppers.  You could tell some of the visitors felt a little bad for staring at fat people, but it had been surprisingly normalized to a large extent in the New Idaho society.
Not everyone, however, was so tactful.  Johnna could sense bad energy as soon as the goateed man in the yellow polo stepped into the trailer.
‘Goddamn, Shelly, truck G is a heavy one indeed!’
‘Ricky, stop.’
‘I’m just saying, I’m just saying.  Look,’ he lowered his voice to a whisper that Johnna could still hear, ‘those two are even eating Oreos—it’s almost like you can see them growing as we speak.’
‘Ricky.’
‘No, really, I wonder if they get a raise in pay if they have a raise in weight.  Don’t you think that would just make sense?’
Johnna got up from her horizontal position and looked at the visitors.  A mistake— when you look into the eyes of a visitor, like staring down a vicious dog, you open yourself up to attack.
‘Hey there!’ Ricky said to Johnna.  ‘How’s the day going?’
Johnna nodded.
‘Do they not let you speak?  You’re human just like me—I can see that even if other people think there are four little men inside you pulling the levers.’
Johnna remained silent.
‘Come on, have a little fun!  Are you having a good day?  Getting paid a good bit?’
Johnna could tell she wasn’t getting out of this without a response.  ‘Yes, it’s been a pretty good day.’
‘There we go.  I knew you could talk.  So hey, then, let me ask you this—you happy doing what you’re doing?  You feel good about this stuff?’
‘Ricky, come on.’  Shelly hit her husband on the thigh.
‘It’s an innocent question,’ Ricky said.  ‘I really want to know.  Is this a good gig?  You like doing this stuff?’
‘Ricky, obviously she doesn’t.  And I’m sure she doesn’t like you talking to her this way, do you?’  Shelly asked Johnna.
‘It’s not obvious, Shelly.  If she didn’t like it, she wouldn’t be doing it.’  Ricky turned back to Johnna.  ‘So do you like it?  Wait, I have a question—were you always this fat, or did you put on the pounds to get the gig?  Can’t be that bad, huh, just sitting here doing nothing but talking to losers like me all day.’  Ricky laughed.  ‘No answer?  Come on!  Do you like it or not?  I won’t judge.  Oh, and follow-up to my last question—cuz Shelly’s gonna hate it, but I really want to know—how did you get that fat?’
‘Rick—We’re leaving.’
‘Come on, wait, give her a minute to answer.  You gonna answer?’
Ricky was looking at Johnna with a smile on his face.  It almost seemed like the man meant well—like he was genuinely curious and truly didn’t care about how rude he was being.
‘It’s not a bad way to make a living,’ Johnna said.
‘Not bad, huh?  Well, I’m glad you like it!’
‘Okay, Ricky?’  said Shelly.  ‘Now can we go?’
‘Wait wait, though—she didn’t answer my last question—how the hell did you get that fat?’
Johnna didn’t want to answer this man’s question—it was downright mean, though the innocent look on his face somehow communicated otherwise.  The question was, at the very least, objectively rude.  But for some reason she felt she owed him an answer.
‘Honestly, just what you would guess,’ Johnna said.  ‘My diet and a sedentary lifestyle.’  He had made her admit it to both him and herself.  She pushed down the emotions bringing tears to her eyes—she had affected an attitude to herself and others of pride in her body, and she did not care to admit that it could have been different.  She preferred to believe she had little to no agency.
‘Aw, damn, I guess I could have guessed that one,’ Ricky said.  ‘Oh, well.  I guess the rest of my questions will wait for another day.  Truck G!  Another one to check off my list, huh, honey?’
‘Alright, Ricky, let’s go.’
The blue-and-yellow-clad couple headed out of the trailer, leaving Johnna to herself for the rest of her shift.  Only an hour.  A six-hour shift altogether.  Based on the traffic today, her pay could very well come out to $75.  That’s 1/4 of rent in the Jungle.  Not so bad for a day’s work.  Three more days like this, and rent was covered, then just some extra money for—for—
Dammit.  That man, Ricky, had opened a wound.  She was now feeling guilty for thinking about the type of food she knew she would spend the extra money on.  But her weight—it wasn’t all just food, was it?  It was her genes, it was the fact that she couldn’t afford a gym, it was the fact that she hardly had any money, and the money she did get went to the survival of herself and Charlie.  And adding on to everything, she just didn’t have the time.
Yeah, screw him.  Johnna stuck out the rest of her shift, received her tips for the day, and walked down 11th street to Slick Business, the coffee shop across from the Government Building on the New Idaho Mall.  She went to the desk and ordered a Large White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream.  The coffee shop was still busy at this time of day, but she found a spot to sit on the second level.
As she sat down with her coffee, Johnna flipped through different news articles on her Lenses, but her mind kept coming back to that man in the Museum today.  He had asked her if she liked working there, and if she had tried to get fat so she could have that job.  He had a point—if she lost weight, she would no longer be an Oddity.  The Government was basically paying her to stay unhealthy.  And if she was unhealthy, she wouldn’t have the energy to get another job.  When she looked at it that way, it seemed the Government was basically keeping her captive.
Johnna did a quick search for “New Idaho Government” and looked through the most recent news articles—nothing she wanted.  She tried “New Idaho Government Terrible”.  Now she was getting somewhere—certainly someone had thought like her.
One of the first hits caught her eye:  a website for a group called “NIANS”—New Idahoans Against New Slavery”.  She opened the page.  On the left side of her lenses, hovering over the table in front of her, was an image of a black stone fist raised into the air.  On the right side was a sort of manifesto.  She skimmed through it.
NIANS, apparently, was taking a stand against what they believed to be a new form of slavery or indentured servitude—the low-income government work programs, also known as Guaranteed Basic Income.  They argued that most of these jobs were demeaning (something clicked for Johnna when she read that one) or traumatic.  After that was a long paragraph explaining the negative effects of Mineshaft on the population, specifically the youth.
At the very bottom of the page, Johnna saw a call to action:  “NIANS hopes to eradicate poverty through common sense solutions.  We plan to force the New Idaho Government to raise our minimum wage to the federal level, something that should have been done a long time ago.  Additionally, we plan to ask for an increase in wages for those serving in such traumatic and degrading programs as MineShaft and the Museum of Oddities.”
Johnna’s eyes lit up.  she hadn’t known what she was looking for, but this was it—a way out for her and her son—a chance to never work again—NIANS.  As she drained the last of her Mocha, Johnna waved her hand over the link:  “How Can I Volunteer?”
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First, I would not deny the fact that I have been privileged in every aspect, especially when I was a kid. By privileged, I mean it most on food. Since I was a child I was always told that it was okay, it was okay to have an extra serving of this and that – of everything. It was awesome back then; I can always get that extra pack of Skittles, of M&Ms, and of almost all my favorite food to eat and it was okay to do just that, until it was not. Until adolescence hit me, until I can no longer look at myself on the mirror without cringing, without being disgusted, without hating myself for how I looked. Until I started being conscious of how people see me and what they see when they look at me, at adolescence it was scary.
I got my period a little too early on, but it was normal for a teenager I was told. Until college came the same time hormonal imbalance slipped right in, it was severe in a sense that the monthly cycle began to be a twice-a-year-thing. And I think that has been one of the many reasons I started gaining weight. College was a constant cycle of starting a diet and losing track of the goal, putting another day of exercise off, talking myself out of doing the things that will help me feel better about myself, just because I know I can always do it tomorrow. Yes, the magical promise of a new start brought to me by tomorrow was not as magical as it sounds every time the fact that I lost another day of progress flaunts its face on the mirror the morning after the night of full procrastination.
I love food. It is not a shocking revelation but I do! I even eat when I’m not hungry just bored. I love snacking. I love meat, and rice was a staple in all of them big meals. That was the reason why I found it really hard to find the type of diet I can stick too. I’m always too scared to let go of my usual, I mean, aren’t we all? (It’s just me! haha) Anyway, I know I’ve lacked will and discipline in college because I always have an excuse to eat out or just eat. There’s always dad’s cooking, a hangout, an overnight project, a classmate’s birthday treat, a four to five hour break in between subjects and all the excuse you can use when you’re mentally stressed and physically exhausted. That took a toll on me and it wasn’t pretty because I started stress eating then I’d feel bad about myself for stress eating that usually ends up with me snacking – unhealthy snacks. On top of that, I lived a pretty sedentary life, the only ‘workout’ I get in a weekday is walking around the campus, which wasn’t much either and none on the weekends. (Not with all these series and movies to watch and books to read. Another lame excuse I know that too.)
I was a year through my first job when something in my brain clicked, I can’t remember exactly what made me decide to give up my usual ways to be healthier, maybe it was all because of the added struggles that came along being overweight (That word stung and every now and then it still does). Around April 2017, I summoned every ounce of courage and discipline and will I have in me to actually turn my back to rice and snacking, my two guilty pleasures.
It was hard. It took more than a dozen times of explaining to my officemates and friends and family that I’ve completely blocked out rice in my daily meals. At first, they thought I was joking and believe me, I thought I did too. But the burrowed guilt from years of living unhealthily (at least for me) is no longer bearable. I know guilt isn’t something that should be a constant part of my dealing with food but I couldn’t deny that for the first few months guilt, fuelled the fire of staying in track and finally working out.
I must admit that I became a calorie-restricted-person and a calorie-counter. It used to drive my officemates and my parents crazy until they got used to it. I know it doesn’t work the same with other people but I like implementing rules on myself and calorie restrictions and calorie counting has become my golden rule. My daily routine of breakfast-lunch-snacks-snacks-dinner was suddenly just lunch & dinner.
After cutting all the bad habits, the next thing I worried about was the relapse. So instead of being bored, which I know would get me to thinking about food and eventually eating, I focused on researching about other types of diet, until I came across intermittent fasting. I started on intermittent fasting a month after I gave up rice, fast food, chocolates, candies, chips, cookies, biscuits, fruit juices, sodas, and any other types of food I deemed indulgent.
I started on a 12-14 hour fasting to 16-18 hours, and of course, hunger was a great distraction in the first few weeks so I gave in and inserted coffee instead of water to pacify it and that actually worked just fine for me. My routine was to replace breakfast meal with coffee, eat my lunch at around 1pm and eat my dinner no later than 8pm.
Aside from that, I started working out after work everyday. I used various apps like Walking, SWORKIT, and STRAVA to help me with what type of workout I should do everyday, and to keep track on my health and the activities I was able to perform. I also keep MyFitnessPal handy to monitor the foods I eat every day, like a diary. Only it tells me how much calorie I’ve already eaten, how much more I need to fulfil my healthy goal of 1300 calories, and how much calorie I’ve burned through out the day.
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During the first two months, I thought I was just being ridiculous because I can’t see any changes yet, the last time I weighed in by this time was the one before I went into the whole diet and I was scared of weighing in again and see that not much has changed. My brain really does the trick on me, with all the overthinking about what my parents and friends and officemates who came to know about me going on a diet would have to say. You see, until then I was concern about what other people has to say like it mattered and I know it’s a bad thing but I can’t just stop at least not at that time. Because it was also a driver for me to do better and prove them wrong.
And then June came, when I told myself ‘fuck it, I’m just gonna do what I have to do and not wait for the results to come fast’ because by then I knew waiting impatiently on seeing the results right away would just waste the energy I can use for other more worthwhile activities. So I stuck with my intermittent fasting and calorie counting and added a new workout that includes a pair of dumbbells instead.
By this time, I’ve already proven that being in this kind of journey having friends who actually support you (despite the teasing and occasional temptation they brought) helps a lot. Because I had to decline a few hangouts here and there, I wasn’t easily persuaded to have a lunch out, happy hour became a no go, and all other social gathering that involves eating a lot. All with a secret promise that when I reach my weight goal, I’d eventually come around, they just have to be patient to me while I do what’s best for myself.
Third month brought me confidence, although not that much but I felt it. It started when I decided to buy a of pair pants, which I dreaded doing before because I know I’ll have to look on the bigger sized ones and that was exactly what conked my self-pity before. But not that time when I was welcomed by the fact that my waistline was actually 5 inches down from the original. This month also made me feel healthier, that a few flight of stairs didn’t scare me anymore because there was no laboured breathing. Although the sweating was still there, I didn’t mind because I’ve already fallen in love with sweating, it’s scientifically proven to release toxins from the body and that’s how I felt, and it felt great.
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July was the three-month-progress report month. It is the month I started feeling and actually slightly seeing the changes in my body. It was also the the month I braved for the first time in my whole damn life to wear an actual swimsuit. I haven’t reached my weight goal yet but this milestone for me that time was worth celebrating.
I once read a quote about working out before in one of the fitness blender accounts on Instagram I follow that, in the first few weeks of working out you’ll feel the progress, in a fews months you’ll hear it and a few more you’ll be able to see it for yourself. And I guess they’re right, because July was also the month when I started hearing it, mostly from my officemates. They were starting to notice and they sometimes wouldn’t shut up about it. But compliments didn’t stop me from pushing myself harder, because I know I was only getting started and I still have a long way to go.
In August, I had my first ever check up with an OB, because I found a lump in one of my breasts and it was actually alarmingly big. I got scared, my overthinking got activated (not that I ever stop overthinking but I developed a special one because we have a family history). Aside from the ultrasound (that thank God told me that it was benign but needs to be monitored), I was also requested to have my ovaries checked because maybe the lump was caused by my hormonal imbalance. The results came and I was diagnosed with PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome), which is the main reason why I don’t have a regular monthly cycle. I was given a pill prescription to correct my PCOS and was asked to lose more weight. I told my OB about the effort I was doing for the last four months but she said that I needed to be in my healthy BMI and that means I’m still a bit far from it but she said at least I was closer than my original weight.
The trip to the hospital, brought me a renewed cause to shed off more weight. It wasn’t just a simple looking good on a mirror or for myself anymore, it weighed heavily on my health. Because of hormonal imbalance women with PCOS are prone to gaining weight that could cause high blood pressure, sugar, and cholesterol levels. That I knew I was too young to have but could be in the immediate future if I wasn’t careful.
Being on pills made it a little harder to gradually lose weight, because increasing or normalising my estrogen levels has certain side effects, it’s either I’d lose weight or gain more. For me the side effect came in the name of plateauing. So I had no other choice but to push myself harder again and it actually made me achieve another milestone on birthday month. I was at 69kg when I started my regimen, when I weighed in again on the day of my birthday I was at 59kg and I couldn’t be happier turning 23 for that.
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2017 has been a whirlwind of every exciting and life changing events I’ve had in my early 20s so far. It has put me into perspective, helped me to always see the goal waiting for me on the other side and I don’t mean it only about the whole getting fit.
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In the last months of 2017, I started drafting my 2018 list of goals and looking back to everything I’ve done the whole year the first few things to fill the list were, be healthier, self-care, self-love, and self-improvement. I thought after all the physical work, it’s now time to take on the bigger job of being the person I really wanted to be. So here’s to you 2017, thank you for helping me finally start living my life the way I’ve always wanted it to be.
2018, we got some serious work to do and we’re so ready for it!
Here’s to you 2017… First, I would not deny the fact that I have been privileged in every aspect, especially when I was a kid.
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