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#it will sneak up on you quickly! and it is still considered Quite Young
starswallowingsea · 9 months
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"I'm not in middle school anymore I'm actually a year out of middle school and married so HA" is not the flex you think it is man
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dreamsontheirway · 1 year
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Cardigan | S.R.
Summary: the cold AC in the building causes the reader to have a... bodily response, and Spencer is protective. Warnings: nipples? Word Count: 0.7k
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It was a hot, summer day for Virginia, whose climate often didn’t exceed the high 70s. Today it fell around an unusual 85, and the BAU was clearly not used to it. The AC was turned up to max cool in the office and although it felt nice, you had the occasional shiver spike down your spine.
You had chosen a short sleeve maroon colored top today, and it was on the tighter side. You always felt warmer with additional fabric, so you thought the figure-hugging top would cool you off as opposed to something loose-fitting. It certainly had done its job, but your lack of a jacket or cardigan had resulted in the amplification of a certain feature on your chest.
You had noticed, obviously, and shifted uncomfortably each time you saw them. That’s something women unfortunately are forced to think about. Additionally, not that you had to wear a bra, but you were wearing one, it just happened to be quite thin. Once again, your choice was determined by the temperature outside. You couldn't have guessed that the BAU would choose to have the AC on its fullest blast.
Luckily for you, you worked with professionals. Even if they noticed your compromised situation, it wasn't like anyone was going to say anything. Or even care all too much, for that matter. You decided to let it go, and continue your work. They were just nipples; everyone had them.
Spencer Reid felt differently about the situation. He had first noticed the fact that you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Then he noticed the occasional shivers on your bare arms. After that is when he caught sight of the small peaks protruding from your chest as a direct result of the chill air.
Spencer had blushed, despite having seen that area of your body with less clothing on than now. He felt uncomfortable thinking about the intimate moments he shared with you whilst at the workplace. Further, he found himself feeling protective of you, as well as those precious moments. The thought of someone else merely considering these private parts of you left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.
At first, Spencer observed the situation, not wanting to make a scene and embarrass you more than he could assume you already were. He would have lent you something to cover up with, but he too dressed minimally for the weather.
Spencer continued his work, occasionally sneaking a glance at you just to make sure you were still okay. As Spencer looked up once again, he noticed an intern walk through the bullpen. The intern was young; he must have been in his very early twenties. Spencer didn't recognize him and he assumed he must be from a different department.
Spencer blatantly observed the young male practically gawk and drool at your chest as he approached you. He stopped and began chatting with you about something Spencer could not see. The young genius could feel his face heat up with irritation and annoyance.
Spencer was steadily growing irate and he seriously considered giving you the shirt off his own back. Then he remembered -- he had a cardigan in his bottom desk drawer. He had put it in his drawer of miscellaneous items back in the winter. Just in case, he had recalled thinking. He mentally gave his past self kudos for remembering to leave it there.
He quickly unlocked the bottom drawer and snatched the tan, knitted cardigan from its depths and beelined to you.
"Hi darling," Spencer cooed, and draped the cardigan over your shoulders. He took it a step further and pulled either side of the article of clothing across your torso, covering your chest.
You were taken aback. Spencer was typically too shy to use pet names to refer to you, unless it was just the two of you. His assertiveness in covering the exposed part of you filled your body with a familiar warmth.
Spencer stared at the intern, his jaw clenched. The young man got the message and politely said goodbye to you.
You turned around in your rolling chair, evidently unwrapping yourself from Spencer's grasp.
"What," you began, blushing. "What was that?"
Spencer opened and closed his mouth. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was bashful.
"I could tell you were uncomfortable earlier with your," he paused, "with your situation, and I just didn't like the way he was looking at you."
You smiled at your boyfriend, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He was right; you had been uncomfortable, and you cherished his ability to notice these intricacies. You pulled the warm cardigan across your chest again, like Spencer had done moments ago.
"Thank you."
"Yeah," Spencer murmured meekly, "anytime."
-----
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lightlycareless · 21 days
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I had the high school au on my mind and since Jujutsu tech has forms I was thinking what shenanigans can ensue. I can imagine maybe earlier in their relationship, Y/N would invite/sneak Naoya to her dorm after hours to watch a movie with her. Naoya is obviously excited to hang out with his gf so maybe he mentions it to his friends and they’re like ‘ooh you know what that means. And oh she just wants to make out etc’ something along those lines that puts that idea into Naoya’s head when in reality Y/N’s invitation had completely innocent intentions with the only desire to watch the movie, maybe even cuddle while they watched(I can imagine cuddling might fluster her bit at this stage). So when Naoya eventually gets there, maybe he’s been like prepped to the max expecting his and Y/N’s first make out session only to realize that she really only wanted to watch the movie(either to his relief or slight disappointment). I could see it either going with Naoya trying initiate and it causing problems with him getting embarrassed for his misunderstanding or each time he tries to initiate Y/N is like extremely oblivious to it to the point he gives up. I just wanted to share this with you since the thought kept giving me the giggles and I love young love stuff like this. It’s probably why I’m so obsessed with the high school au.(Feel free to write a little something to this though if you get inspiration from it 😊)
Heya anon!!
I'm sorry it took me a while to get back to you; with prompts that are usually a bit longer, especially those that I have an idea of what I want to write but don't know how to land it?
Though I have to admit that your ask by itself was perfect. It was so cute!!!! I didn't think I could add much, but I still hope you liked what I prepared for this occasion :>
warnings: naoya might be a pervert, no surprise there. fluff. highschool AU. he's a dork too. mentions of smut, very light. just implications.
Happy reading!!
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Naoya doesn’t like admitting it, and you’ll never catch doing so either—certainly not when it comes to you, the only person he’s ever tried his hardest to appear as confident, seemingly untouchable, above all problems regardless of their nature: a reliable man you could always lean on.
But the truth is, he still gets nervous. Very nervous, indeed. To the point you’d think he was about to attempt a life-or-death type of endeavor, not a silly thing! (it’s not silly, Naoya just says that in order to feel better)
“Do you want to watch a movie…” it’s how it started—at that point, Naoya wasn’t that flustered. Sure, he was excited to spend time with you, as much as any loving boyfriend would! If it were him, the two would be together, every day, every hour, everywhere!
“…in my dorm?”
It’s only when you say these words that he effectively becomes an utter mess, unable to do anything else besides allow heat to form on his cheeks, throat tightening as he squeaks a quick:
“Yes!”
Before going back to his class, to torment himself with what just transpired, and what wonderful things it actually represented.
Still early in the relationship, this would be the first time you and Naoya… saw each other in a more private setting.
Far from seeing each other at cafeteria to eat lunch together, training when the other’s usual partner wasn’t available, going on missions whenever teachers sought it necessary, studying if you didn’t get something from a class he already had (he’s a year older—before your being your boyfriend, Naoya was actually your senpai.), amongst other things.
In other words, his mind saw it was step forward in what he considered the rest of his life with you, and such statement brought him so much happiness, he literally couldn’t do anything else but spend his time imagining just what you had in store for him; undoubtedly something good, he quickly assumes.
Naoya prided himself for being quite reserved when it comes to personal matters, but such was his excitement this time around, that he was unable to hide it from his prying friends, the same ones that were always eager to tease him simply because he made it too easy, often entertained by his outlandish reactions…
Or amusing discoveries.
“What’s got you in such a good mood, Naoya?” One of his friends, Kiyotaka (probably someone he could replace with someone infinitely better, as you’ve once hinted.) says once taking a seat before him.
“What are you even talking about.” Naoya responds defensively, like he always did.
“Tsk, come on… you don’t really believe we’re going to fall for that, are we?” Another friend of Naoya’s, arguably of the same nature as Kiyotaka, Hideki, adds with a teasing tone.
“I don’t need to believe anything, you can do whatever you want.” He hisses, still avoiding the subject, if he wanted to push them away, he fails miserably.
Unfortunately, they knew it would only take a few more shoves to get Naoya talking.
And when it finally happened, oh, was he regretful he ever said anything.
“I’m going on a date with Y/N.” Is the sentence that pushes them over the edge, a smirk plastered on their faces as they seem to catch on to your “ulterior motives” way before him.
“Really? Where are you two going?” Kiyotaka asks.
“What do you care?” Naoya frowns, but they knew well to take his intimidation with a grain of salt. “…We’re watching a movie.”
“Oh, you’re going to the city?” Hideki wonders.
“No, not really—we’re staying in, at her dorm.”
With that, their theories were effectively confirmed.
“Oooooh, her dorm.” Kiyotaka teases. “Is that so?”
“What? What about it?” Naoya scowls, he never liked bringing you into his conversations with his friends for this precise reason—they always seemed to have something to say about you, or his relationship. And like the ever jealous, overprotective man he was, he simply couldn’t allow that!
But as experienced as he proclaimed to be, there were still things he had to learn, such as the obvious intentions behind your suggestion. So they were trying to hint.
“Come on, you can’t be that blind.” The other insists, Naoya’s frown (as well as intrigue) deepens.
“It’s so clear why she’s inviting you to see a movie in her dorm—” Kiyotaka continues.
“If it’s so obvious, then spit it out!” Naoya demands.
“She was to make out, of course! No, actually, I think she wants to do something more.” Hideki proclaims.
“Oh, most definitely! You guys have been dating for what, a few weeks? I’d say it’s long overdue!”
At the prospect, heat spreads across Naoya’s face, heart quickening as he carefully considers their words… before annoyance and jealousy overrules him once more, quick to demean them back, especially after they continue mocking him.
“Not that our virgin friend would know, too busy jacking off to anime girls— probably hasn’t even gotten his first kiss!”
“At least I have a girlfriend, losers!” Is what Naoya scowls before storming out the classroom and into the hallways, just before he did anything that he’d come to regret; their hyena-like laughs disappearing in the distance.
But nonetheless, their work was done, for their words would remain in Naoya’s mind for the rest of the day, those that were of any use of course.
Because jokes often harbored truth behind them.
Deeply enthralled by the excitement of spending an evening with you, maybe he did fail to recognize the true meaning behind your invitation.
A notion that the more he thought of it, the more he considered it to be… plausible.
Naoya didn’t think it was going to happen now—though he won’t deny he’s been longing for it. It’s just that… he hadn’t done anything in fear of scaring you. Up to that point, all you’ve done together is hold hands, kiss, hugs, and that’s about it. Nothing more, nothing less, and both seemed happy with it.
Until now.
Once these thoughts made way to his mind, and after placing these erroneous pieces together… Naoya can’t help but wonder, is this your way of telling him… you wanted to do more? Formalize this relationship?
If so, another insecurity arises within Naoya, one that stems from the erratic notion that as the man, he should’ve been the one taking initiative, not you.
He should’ve been preparing everything for that special moment, anything beneath that would only catalog him as someone foolish, and thus, undeserving of your affection—you can blame the Zen’in for those beliefs.
Because ever since meeting you, all Naoya has ever wanted to do is give you the world.
But in order to continue doing that, once you took the lead… what must he do?
“Do you really think she wants to do… that?” Naoya eventually resorts to the only other person he trusts enough to bring some clarity to the situation, though sometimes, for matters of avoiding getting too much information, wishes he didn’t. Yet, he’ll always stand by his side.
“I guess?” Ranta cringes, the thought of you and his best friend getting physical is one he wishes to erase from his mind!
On a more assertive approach, even when you’ve been dating his best friend for a few weeks, he has to admit he doesn’t know much about you. Or at all, really—outside of your excessive affinity for mochi, videogames, and wanting to be with Naoya at all times. Ranta rests easy knowing you mean well above all.
However, at this moment, he’s very concerned, simply because this is a delicate subject that if handled wrongly, could gravely wound his relationship… and all thanks to his supposed friends getting under his skin!
Ranta is tired of telling Naoya that he needs better friendships, that they’re only there because they want to get a rise out of him!
Though, a tiny, almost undetectable part of him does think they might be right. Because being invited to someone’s room is often an opening for something more private… right?
So, the possibility of you wanting more isn’t that farfetched, and considering how clingy the two are…
“Do you know what movie you’re going to watch?” Ranta suddenly asks, a necessary question in his mind.
“Hm? No, not yet. Y/N said that she’s ok with whatever, she just wants to spend time with me.”
Oh.
Oh.
It’s too obvious now, enough for Ranta’s mouth to fall agape and skin go pale, a reaction that startles Naoya, rushing to frettingly ask what was going on, why did he react that way?! Did he know something he didn’t?
Well, simply put… yes. He did. It’s just too obvious now to deny: the reason why you hadn’t chosen a movie, or even suggested something, when you were the one to invite him, was because that’s not what really matters! In fact, it never was!!
The only reason this date was happening was because you definitely, undoubtedly, clear as water, or like the sun rising, wanted to do something else!
And the movie was just an excuse to get him where you wanted—with Naoya taking the bait as soon as it was casted.
“What is it, Ranta?!” Naoya asks once more. “Will you speak up already?!”
The poor kid sighs.
He just hopes Naoya is prepared.
When the fateful day finally comes, Naoya can’t help but be all too attentive to your behavior, or more like the oddity of it.
Sure, you were still the giddy, loving, albeit a bit weird girl he fell in love with—but there was something… different about you. Almost as if you’d suddenly forgotten you were his girlfriend and got all shy with him.
And he didn’t mean the the adorable way he loved teasing—no, he meant the glance away from him whenever you’d catch him staring type of way, refusing to smile back whenever he’d do so, or straight up avoiding him in the hallways.
Naoya worried that perhaps he’d done something wrong without noticing, said some stupidity and angered you…
But that proved to be wrong when you approached him at the end of the day, rushing over to his locker and softly calling out his name, which he promptly responded to by swiftly turning around to see you, eager to fix whatever issues unwittingly grew between the two—
“Are you ready… Naoya?” it’s what you’d say, with the quietest tone he’s probably ever heard you use, after your confession of course.
“Huh? Oh; Ye—yeah.” He responds, swallowing. “I’m ready. …For the movie, right?”
You nod frantically. “Yes! Haha, what else?”
“I thought you’d… forgotten about it.” Naoya admits. “Since you hadn’t spoken to me at all.”
“Oh, no—it wasn’t that! I… didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just… actually preparing some things between classes and all that.” You confess, his shoulders relax, tension leaving his body alongside one of his worst fears. “I’m sorry.”
“Had me worried there, mochi. Thought I did something to anger you.” he says, you don’t notice it, but he tightly clenches his fist, an attempt to ease his nerves.
“…No, you could never.” You pout, looking away embarrassed. After a few seconds of silence, you return to him. “I already got snacks for the movie, by the way. I made sure to bring your favorite’s too, so need to worry about that! Though I was still hoping we could get something to eat first? Or if you want, we can also get some other snacks if you don’t like the ones I—"
“I don' I’m—I’m ok with whatever you picked.” He frets back, you blink. “Just getting to spend time with you is enough for me.”
“Oh, well then—” you blush. Looking around and noticing no one was near, you proceed. “Do you… want to go… now?”
Naoya nods before taking your hand; it’s only then that he notices the first symptoms of your anxieties: through the warmth of your skin and the dampness of it too—seems he might’ve miscalculated how nervous you’d be, yet he was not surprised, because if his assumptions were to be true, it was only natural you’d be in such state prior doing… that.
Well, it was good to know both were on the same page. If only it helped him to not feel as nervous as he did.
Or at least, make him realize not everything was what it seemed.
Naoya didn’t know what he was anticipating when arriving at your dorm. That his anxieties disappear? Perhaps. Should he have expected that? Probably not, if anything, he should’ve foreseen that his emotions were to spiral even further once getting there.
It’s as if the notion of what was happening finally settled into his mind! Turning him a nervous, sweating mess that you couldn’t help but notice as well—though it was more likely that you were on the same page as him.
Your boyfriend mentally scolds himself for his reaction, thinking that he was supposed to be ready for this moment, he did all the preparations, after all! (don’t ask)
But when he’s here, before you, in your room, alone—it’s like it was all for nothing; efforts thrown out the window as all he can do is look at you oversee the last details for the date in a seemingly assertive manner than makes him feel even smaller.
Oh, but if he only knew…
“You can change out of your uniform in the bedroom, if you like. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You suggest, face bright as a tomato as you gesture to said location. “Get comfortable, and all that…”
“Don’t be silly, I’ll use the bathroom.” Naoya responds immediately, his instinct to please you still intact. “It’s your room…”
“Oh—okay, then. I guess I’ll just wait over here…” You then turn around, heading over to the bedroom.
On Naoya’s way to the restroom, he’s able to get a peek into your room, the place the rest evening was to be spent in, taken aback by the sight that received him, demonstrating just how serious you were to have a perfect date:
After moving the bed to the corner, you’ve set up various blankets on the floor to work as some kind of futon, alongside some fluffy pillows to comfortably sit down and lean back on. After that, you place a neatly folded blanket by the corner to use in case either ran cold, though Naoya doubt’s it’ll be used at all…
Nonetheless, Naoya was impressed by your commitment, giving him the impression you were most definitely striking to achieve something more—in for the kill, as some may say.
He should’ve assumed you capable of so, considering how this relationship came to be. If anything, he should be wondering if he even has the means to keep up? And if he doesn’t… what will this mean for the relationship?
Naoya doesn’t want to lose you.
“What snacks do you want?” you’d ask him once he’s out of the bathroom.
Naoya notices you to be out of your uniform as well, dressing in a matching sweatsuit he normally would’ve considered you looked adorable in, as usual— if his mind wasn’t threading into something a bit more… private.
He made sure to freshen up in efforts to distract all intrusive thoughts, but once again, it was all for nothing when it comes to you; it has always been that way, and it seems will always be.
Attempting to push down his nerves, Naoya eventually makes way towards the makeshift futon, taking a seat there before you join him soon after, bringing along popcorn and sodas you remembered to be his favorite.
“Here, for you.” You say, inching closer to him to the point where your arms are touching his. Naoya tenses up, doing everything in his power to prevent his mind from going somewhere it shouldn’t be, such as holding his breath, or focusing on…
“Is that my hoodie?” Naoya notes, which immediately makes you blush, looking away embarrassed.
“Oh—yeah, I—I guess that’s where it came from.” You chuckle nervously; though it’s not like you didn’t know it was his. In fact, might’ve lied to Naoya about it’s whereabouts that one time he asked you just to keep it around for a bit longer… but could he blame you? It was soft, comfortable, and most importantly, it smelled like him. “…Do you want it back?”
“No!” he shrieks. Your eyes widen in surprise. “I mean—it looks… good on you.” Perhaps a bit too good. “Keep it.”
You turn impossibly redder.
“Th—Thanks…” you whisper, returning your gaze to him, staring at him absolute silence, as if processing the closeness in which the two were, the privacy of it all…
But once it finally settles, oh, does it fluster you even more. Breath hitching to your throat the moment you realized you spent too much time staring at him, quickly turning around and reaching over for the remote control, turning the TV on and attempting to move the evening forward—yet your thoughts would remain behind.
“What movie are we going to see…?” Naoya manages to ask, as if your reaction didn’t affect him further.
“Just one that Shoko… suggested.” You quietly admit; the CD was already set up on the player, all that was left to do was… press play.
Once the movie begins, the two are quickly captivated by it; Shoko wasn’t lying when she said this was something you’ll definitely like, the type of film that won’t let you peel your eyes away from the screen due to its epic storytelling (her words)—and it had been that way up to that point, if it weren’t for the occasional reminder of the other being there.
Whether through a quick exhale, a whine when stretching their legs or arms, or even the warm pressure of your head resting on Naoya’s arm… even with an intriguing movie as that one, neither could refute acknowledging the other’s presence.
Or the supposed reason behind this invitation, which only grew heavier in his mind the same time his insecurities flourished, ignorant of when to take the next step, trying to make out if this was your way of telling him to hurry up or perhaps, something else entirely??
You’ve taken liking to the position you were in, with your head over his shoulder, intertwining his arm with his, occasionally reaching out for a handful of popcorn and asking him if he’d like some before going back to your previous comfortable position, attention completely focused on the movie once again.
Naoya commends you for being able to appear this calm, completely unaware of his turmoil. In a way, he was happy you were.
But your boyfriend knew better than to rely on comfort, and once motivated to act, he was able to quickly intercept the true motives behind your insistency, a wake-up call for him to act and do what he must—as a man, he’s the one responsible to provide a solution to your desire; anything less than that is shameful.
And so, after mentally uttering few more encouraging words to himself… Naoya finally proceeds.
It starts slowly, carefully, with him releasing the arm in your hold to drape it over your shoulders. You don’t seem to put much of a resistance at first, though you did seem startled—but when you realized you could be more comfortable this way, with your head resting over his chest and his arm hugging you, you quickly accepted your new disposition, a smile on your face (alongside a bright blush) as you continued watching the movie.
Naoya remains that way for a few more moments, torn between enjoying your closeness or continuing, perhaps hoping you’d tell him something. But when you don’t, he simply takes it as you being shy.
Thus, he pushes forward, for your introverted sake.
He senses you tense up the moment his hands finally trail down your arm and onto your waist, yet you don’t stop him. Naoya quietly sighs as he keeps his hand there, occasionally giving you soft squeezes here and there, before leaning further and further down, ending by your hips.
Naoya swears to feel his heart (and yours consequentially) to be just a few minutes away from bursting out his chest when doing this—this contact being the most intimate he’s gone with you. And yet, his mind can’t help but wonder why you hadn’t reciprocated his advances, because at that point, his intentions had to be nothing but clear!
But you remained quiet, reserved, with the tightening of your grasp over his chest whenever he moved closer to a particularly sensitive area, softly whining in response, being his only indicative.
Did he need to be more assertive with his actions? Or perhaps he wasn’t doing the right things? Not… touching you the way you liked?
You must excuse him from not knowing, this was… the first time he’d do such a thing with you, and naturally, he’s bound to make some mistakes—but he still wants to make it right.
So, he goes with the one thing he knows won’t fail, considering how you’ve left it clear countless times before that you always enjoyed his kisses—whether through verbal and physical reassurance.
The answers were always there, Naoya just… needs to be bolder about it. Secure. You must enjoy having an assertive boyfriend, right?
Taking another deep breath and in one swift movement, Naoya uses his free hand to grab your chin, carefully turning you to him, leaning forward to take your lips into a kiss before you could even react.
The action undoubtedly catches you off guard, enough to have you tensing, eyes widening as you try to process why the sudden approach—not that it would take you long before you succumbed to it, but still. It had come so out of the blue, you almost felt like it wasn’t truly happening, that perhaps you imagined it, always desperate to dive in Naoya’s gestures.
And it would’ve been quite wonderful too, if only he’d remained in the realms of what he knew, stopped his fingers from travelling up to your stomach and hooking around the edge of your hoodie, gently nudging it upwards in what he thought a clear understanding of what’s to happen, leaving no room for anything else—
Just your shock, which immediately prompted you to place your hands over his chest and push him away from you, with great unprecedented force, so different from the gentle touch you always use on him that Naoya almost didn’t recognize you.
Nor yourself, for that matter.
"Wh—what are you doing, Naoya?!" You breathe, trying your best to hold back the pounding of your heart from deafening your ears, alongside the scrambling of your thoughts, failing to understand what just happened, or more like why. "Why did you—why did you do that???"
"I'm— I'm confused, Y/N" Your boyfriend quickly responds, voice trembling upon seeing the horror in your face, a sight he never wished to see on you again, less be on the cause of it. "I thought you—I thought you wanted this."
“I wanted—wh—what??” you fret. “What are you even talking about?? Want what?!”
“You know…that” Naoya murmurs, and for the first time that evening, the notion that he might’ve miscalculated your intentions invades his mind, bringing along great sorrow that only worsens when all you do is continue to stare at him, surprised. “The…. The thing couples… do…”
“What—…What gave you that idea?” you dared to ask, and then, at that precise moment, is when realization finally settles inside him, making his heart sink to his stomach and his worst fears come true.
“I'm so sorry, Y/N. I thought—I thought you inviting me over was for something else!” Naoya the takes you into his arms, pressing you tightly against him as he continues to mutter endless apologies, silent prayers that he hadn’t hurt the only relationship he has cared about in his entire life, beyond repair."I’m so sorry, please don't break up with me—"
"Huh?! Naoya?? Why would you even say that?!” You cry, whatever you felt for his unusual actions folded immediately in favor of your confusion. “I’m not going to break up with you!”
“Are you not… mad?—Hurt, because of what I did?”
“I mean—I am startled.” Naoya frowns, ashamed. You try to reassure him with a tight smile, he does not budge. “But… I wouldn’t leave you. Never!’
“…Then… what’s going to happen?” he fearfully asks, unwilling to believe that no punishment, no reproach was to occur—you can blame the Zen’in for that.
… Were you truly not angry, not one bit?
“Well, I guess we should… talk about it.” You say, fidgeting with your fingers. A conversation you didn’t think would occur so soon, and like this too—but it did, and with it, came along questions (or more like insecurities) about your own standing in this relationship.
Guess now is just as good as any other time.
“…you don’t want to do it, isn’t it?” Naoya assumes, your eyes widen.
“That’s not true, Naoya. Of course I do!”
“But…?”
“…Not like this.” You murmur. A question crosses your mind. “But… you wanted it… right?”
Naoya remains silent, guess after all that happened, the teasing of his friends, Ranta’s suggestions… he eventually came to hope that maybe you did want more. He would’ve definitely liked that, but then, who wouldn’t want to be intimate with the love of their life?
“You did.” You breathe; now it was your time to lament. “Oh, Naoya, I didn’t mean to confuse you—”
“No, Y/N. I was the one that misunderstood your invitation.” He says, hugging you tighter against him. “I guess I was too excited to spend time with you, that… I might’ve gotten ahead of myself. Might’ve allowed others to that too…”
“What do you mean?” you ask, curiously lifting your gaze to his.
“… I guess… I might’ve… let my friends influence me on what was going to happen…”
“You mean—did they tell you this was for something more?”
“Well—I mean—it’s not every day that you invite me to your dorm, you know??” Naoya gasps.
“Because it’s not really permitted, Naoya!” you cry back. “…and because my room is a mess most of the time, and I don’t want you to see that...”
At the silliness of last, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, invertedly lifting some of the tension that had begun to weight heavy on your shoulders, allowing you relax soon after.
“Is that what you’re most worried about?” Naoya jests. “That I might not like what your room looks like?”
“I gotta look good for my boyfriend, after all!” you fuss. “…and that’s not the only thing I worry about. I don’t want you to get in trouble for sneaking in either.”
“…I’d be more satisfied if you were… well, happy with me.” Naoya silently admits, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“It was just a misunderstanding, nothing more.” You say, leaning into his touch. “…And a reminder that you need better friends too…”
“Yeah, that’s definitely something I have to do.” Naoya frowns, but he doesn’t let this issue take much space in his mind. “And make it up to you.”
“Naoya—I’m just happy that you’re here with me!” you grin, wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him. “It’s been soooo loong since we last had a date, it’s going to take much more than that to ruin it!”
“…But I was pretty close, wasn’t I?” he laments.
“Don’t torture yourself about it.” You lean to kiss his lips, the gesture warming his heart as his worries begin to disappear. “It’ll happen, in time, I hope… and when it does, it’ll be special, for both of us. Because it’ll be just how we want it!”
“It sounds like you already had something in mind, though.”  Naoya recalls, mentally preparing himself to take notes. “…Do you mind… telling me… what?”
“Well, you’ll definitely have to take me out on a date—somewhere nice for dinner. From there, I’d like to go for a walk around the city, or maybe a drive, I don’t know. We can go to a viewpoint and watch the stars, or to the park and just… relax. After that, we can go back to anywhere but a place we could be caught.” You shiver. “I’d rather die than let that happen!”
Naoya laughs, finding your enthusiasm to be both refreshing, adorable, and informative in two matters:
One, that you are just as eager as he was when it comes to that, effectively removing any doubt he had about the ordeal. It was just a matter of being ready, that’s all.
And two, just how silly it was to even consider you wanted to do it in a place like a school, where strictness was only expected. It was difficult as it was having to sneak him around the dorms just to spend this evening together, now imagine that? Some were shameless, amongst them Naoya, but you were out of the question.
What was he even thinking?!
Naoya feels like an absolute idiot for having trusted his supposed friends. Perhaps he should’ve taken Ranta more seriously, take it slow as he suggested.
But there was no use in agonizing about that when he had more pressing matters to tend to, such as…
“…Do you still want to watch the movie?” Naoya asks, hopeful. But you give him a smile that erases all doubts.
“Yes. Of course I do! I still want to spend time with you, you know? With the boyfriend I love very, very much.”
Naoya blushes.
“And you’re the girlfriend I love very much too.” He stammers, verbal affection is something he still struggles with, but it does not abstain it from being genuine. “I’ll make it up to you—whatever you want. Don’t hesitate to tell me.
…And once we get to do that too, it’ll be special; beyond anything you imagined—I promise you.”
“It’s not necessary, Naoya—just spending time with you is enough for me.” You lean forward once more to peck his lips. “With you, I don’t need to worry about anything because I know everything will fall into place by its own.
….
Though there is one think I want you to do, if you really wanna make it up to me.”
“Anything, it’s yours.”
“…Do you think… you can spend the night here, with me? My roommate is going to be away for a few days, and my siblings are out on a mission; I normally wouldn’t mind staying on my own, but tonight… I don’t feel like doing that.” you shyly ask, and while it’s a far cry from what Naoya initially anticipated, it’s still enough to rile him up.
“Su—Sure, Y/N—I just… I think I just need to go to the bathroom first.”
You don’t say anything else, too flustered to do so, aside from reassuring him you’ll be there when he comes back, understanding that this was a situation that, well, honestly speaks for itself.
And yet, you didn’t think much of it—because at the end of the day, one way or the other, it just showed how much Naoya wished to be with you, and how eager you wished the day you were ready to give yourself to him eventually came to be.
Until then, you’d worry about enjoying the rest of the evening, wondering if Naoya would be thirsty after coming back, perhaps wanting to eat something else than popcorn—you sure brought lots of snacks just in case, highly meticulous for a simple movie night. You shouldn’t be blamed, though; it was your first date in a setting like this!
While Naoya tended to some personal issues—but the most important one was the final acceptance that he needed better friends, deciding to drop them soon after this miscalculation almost cost him his relationship (Not really, just a very upset girlfriend) and God knows what else; Ranta being the only one that remained, because he was the only genuine friend he ever had, that much he could still asses.
But when it comes to your happiness, though he’ll sometimes go to him for suggestions, Naoya decides to only trust his heart—no one else.
The rest of them could disappear, for all he cared. Because the moment you stepped into his life, you were all that mattered to him.
All that will continue to matter, until the end of his days. Luckily, he has a lifetime to prove that to you.
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Naoya's growth from dorky boyfriend to husband will be satisfying journey to observe.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this little something I did!!! Whenever I get HS AU stuff I get really excited, I literally couldn't stop thinking about this!!!
Either way, it was fun to write awkward Y/N and Naoya, this is way before the latter grew up to be the arrogant bastard we all know; and though he does end up like that, I like to think that because of Y/N he's not as bad lol.
Now, I don't have anything else except that I really do hope you liked this :> Thank you so much for sending in this ask; take care, and hope to see you soon!!
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melonminnie · 1 year
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Hello love 💕 I have a little request for: My mother got Married by contract !
Lyrica x Older!Cousin!Reader || First meeting ||
A little scenario of Reader and Lyrica meeting for the first time!!
Reader is the Older sister of the crown prince
How I imagine her:
Calm voice
Elegant
Free spirited
Cheerful
Always with colourful dresses
Lyrica x older!cousin! reader
-tysm for requesting!! <3333i tried my hardest to meet the requirements reader has the same appearance as the crown prince hope you like your request this too a little while to publish I’m sorry!
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“Your majesty did you hear?, the emperor got married!” One of y/ns maids entered, her tone slightly excited when speaking, “Oh!, I heard she’s really pretty too, and that she has a daughter” the said girl added to her maids talking.
“Yes I heard that too, would you like to see her?” She questioned hoping she would say yes, “Not at the moment, I’d like to keep it a surprise!” She clasped her hands together.
“A surprise what do you mean?” The maid questioned, “I mean a surprise like meeting her without knowing,like at the garden or sneaking out at night” The girl leaned back in her chair, “that would be way more exciting then arranging a meeting to me” she added.
“B-but don’t you think that’s maybe a little informal?” The maid fidgeted with her skirt slightly, “I don’t care she’ll be considered as my younger cousin from now on right” she glanced at the floor “ I won’t do it in a practically informal way” she added “besides, I’m a nice person!, I won’t act mean” she reassured. “Yes I know that young miss but maybe she would think otherwise?”.
the maid yet again protested, y/n knew her maid didn’t have bad intentions, as she just wanted to make her look presentable, “fine!!” The girl sighed before standing up, “I don’t get why your so worried”.
The maid left the conversation at that returning to her duties thinking that at least she got so,e sense into the princess, as much as she’d like to think she did, y/n was known for never listening to anyone unless it was her uncle, or her teachers.
So she wouldn’t listen to her servant either no matter the cost, she had to look at the empires new forum of rumors!.
A few weeks had passed, to the girls dismay she wasn’t able to find a good proper moment, so she opted to her first plan!, a complete surprise.
Y/n was known as an elegant person threw out the entire country, so she had to put on her best act for her young cousin.
Step one for her plan was to find out as much as she could about lyricas schedule, her age, appearance, and appropriate timing so that it doesn’t seem too awkward when she met her.
Step two, Suprise her, in a friendly way of course, maybe bring a gift with her or sweets!.
Step three, putting her plan into action!!!.
The perfect timing was on a Friday night, which was sort of creepy but that’s okay!, sorta?, she didn’t care meeting her the brown haired girl was her top priority at the very moment, But sneaking into her room, might consider her to be an assassin, she didn’t want that either.
New plan!, find a new and suitable timing to not look like a creep <33333
After going threw the hassle of going threw all the procedures to meet lyrica, it finally worked out!.
One night, it was awfully hot, for no reason too as it was in the dead of winter, the blue haired girl(?) ( I don’t know what the crown princes hair color is it’s confusing sorry!) decided to go get water, admittedly it was quite risky as the kitchen was in the other side of the palace, but nonetheless she went anyway!.
Grabbing a candle and lighting it up, she walked out of her room, as quietly and quickly as possible, again it was a stupid idea, but she still did it, as she walked and walked and walked, until she heard a gasp, who’d be awake at this hour? She thought, before searching around to find the source of the gasp.
While searching around she noticed, a much timer girl with brown hair and crystal like eyes starring right at her, the brunette noticed when the person she’d been admiring starred directly at her before she walked up to her revealing herself, of course lyrica knew who the girl was she’d heard many thing about her, from her intelligence, elegance, and bright dresses that were eye catching to the normal noble.
Among many other thing she’d heard, the part that resonated with her were the dresses, sure she’d grown up poor and lived in poverty for the whole 8 years of her life, but even in the slums people would talk about the princess, when she got the castle she’d wanted to become friends with the said girl.
Of course this wasn’t an appropriate timing, she’d wanted to go to the crown princes bedroom to check on the items she’d given as a gift, once lyrica came to her senses she quickly bowed to the girl and said a quick greeting, “you really don’t need to do that” she explained making the girl stand up “her voice is so calm!!” She thought, “but my teacher told me I had to bow to anyone with a higher ranking status then me that’s including you” she mumbled fidgeting with her hands, “yeah I know but you don’t really need too!, I told you myself, if we ever meet by ourselves you don’t need too”
The girl starting playing with her hair softly, “what are you doing out here though?” She questioned kneeling to lyricas height, “I was going to see if the items I added in the crown princes bedroom were okay” she chirped, “items…?”, “I gave the prince items as a welcome gift!” She replied again, “Ah!, can I see” teh blue haired girl pleaded, “of course!” Lyrica replied grabbing onto the older girls hand and pulling her softly, “Ah wait I need to get water first it’s really hot” lyricas hand was still holding onto hers, “okay~ I can come with you” the brunette turned around to the way of the kitchen, and headed to the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, y/n quickly grabbed two glasses and filled them with water, after she gave one to lyrica and one to herself, “thank you!” She smiled drinking the water, “your welcome” y/n replied also drinking the glass of water, “can I call you big sister?” Lyrica quickly asked nervously, “hm?.. of course” y/n replied, “really?” Asked again, “of course!!” She chirped grabbing lyricas tinier body into a hug.
“I’ve always wanted a sibling…” she trailed off, “I’ll be your sibling yeah?, we can even try getting my brother to become yours” she added “I’d like that..”
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httpsbearily · 8 days
Text
☆*: Lost Time
[D.C.]: @thepathofpain
[Tags]: brutus x reader | GN reader | fluff & smut
Minors Do Not Interact
[Author’s Note]: I absolutely loved writing this piece, I had to cut some parts out because it was becoming a whole ass book…rip. Anyways, reader displays physical characteristics of a kit fox because I needed a desert animal [mauler] for the plot and I just so happened to have written a research paper on these guys a few months ago. two birds, one stone. too easy!
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A life in the desert was not for the weak or incapable. This was a lesson you had learned the hard way when growing up. You were born into a clan of fierce warriors, strong fighters, and battle champions. To the members of your clan, dueling was the highest honor, only triumphed by victory of said duel. Strength, prowess, skill…these were all qualities that were revered by your clan and any who didn’t sport all three would be lucky to be considered decent at the very least.
It was with the luck of being born on a red moon that had you lacking two of the three characteristics. While you weren’t weak, you couldn’t be said to be strong, not when you considered a victorious battle to be one you found your way out of. And your prowess…even you could admit that it was a good thing hunting for a meal was old school, taken over by vendors and restaurants who did the work for you. Skill was the only trait you could said you had more than enough of. You hosted a cunning mind that fostered curiosity for and interest in creation. It was perhaps the only reason why you had stayed put in the desert; Where there were warriors, there were weapons.
Of course, you didn’t find this path of life until you were much older so your childhood was filled to the brim with frustration. There was one memory in particular that stuck with you even to this day:
You were years younger than you were now—still a kid at the time, only having just celebrated your birthday where your age finally reached the double digits. At this age, the clan held a tradition of introducing battle mechanics to the children in hopes that they could foster warrior spirits into their young hearts. So you were sent off to spend an hour or two training at the area the really just looked liked an oversized playground. Along side you there were three other kids who’d just tuned of age same as you, so together the five of you trained and sparred.
In reality, this is when your struggles had begun. With the clan favoring the strongest, naturally a friendly competition had settled amongst you and your group mates. Or, well, as friendly as shaping a fighter could get. Only after half a year, your peers had already seen a big jump of improvement in their abilities. Quite quickly you realized that you were already being left behind…the others noticed it too.
“Why dont you go help the cooks make us a meal instead of trying to learn that skill set. You’ve been doing the same practice for months and still haven’t moved up, ha!”
At first, they’d only tease you like that. Telling you to just go home because you would never become a warrior at your learning pace. And you wanted to, you really did, but you worried how that would make your parents feel. They weren’t exactly frontline warriors themselves, but they were still warriors nonetheless. They excelled in sneak attacks and underground movement, an art that had actually allowed them to meet each other. You on the other hand, had wasted six months practicing basic defense moves.
It wasn’t due to your inability or some lack of skill, really, you just didn’t really care. Why advance to harder levels when the basics were good enough for you? You were honestly more drawn to the wooden sword you practiced with than the movements it made. It seemed that none of the others could relate to you, or even understand you, though because they made jabbing comments and snickering remarks.
By the time a year had passed, they had taken to asking you to spar with them knowing full well you didn’t have the training. You were always quick to dismiss them, instead focusing on whatever it was that you were doing, but on one particularly day, your peers had taken their teasing a step further. All it took was for one of them to pull your arm to encourage the other two to get involved. You felt one flick your ear while another tugged your tail, the third one pulling your arm. Unused to their physicality, you tried to push yourself away, more caught of guard than in actual pain. But they only gathered closer around you.
You told them to go be a bother elsewhere, that you weren’t in the mood, but they didn’t seem to listen. Or care. Poking and prodding, they messed with you relentlessly and you had fought the urge to cry as they ganged up on you. When you resulted to closing your eyes and protecting your ears with your hands, their touch fell away suddenly. You heard their surprised cries and opened your eyes to see the three kids struggling against another.
“Beat it,” the kid growled, “bullies have no business becoming a warrior.”
You recognized the intruder, you’d seen him with the group that was two or three years older than your group. It seemed the other three recognized him as well because they scrambled to get themselves together before rushing away, not even daring to taunt you as they passed. You watched their backs until they disappeared behind one of the training walls before turning to look at the older lion before you. His face appeared stony, his arms crossing over his chest imposing a strong presence. You lowered your hands from your ears slowly, not sure if he meant for you to go away as well.
“Thank you,” You said awkwardly, “for helping me.”
The older lion tilted his fluffy head, “are you okay?” he asked with more concern than you’d anticipated. A stark contrast to his appearance, his voice could almost be described as gentle. It reminded you that he was still a kid too, not just the strongest warrior of his age group and two above.
Nodding your head, you dusted yourself off, “I’m okay. They didn’t do much aside from tugging at me.”
“Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked, “Isn’t that the whole point of training?”
“Oh…I’m still learning. They’re more advanced than I am so even if I tried, I don’t think I could beat them,” you responded honestly.
The lion boy gave you a confused look, “you don’t seem upset by that.”
You smiled, giving him a small laugh and another nod, “yeah, cause I’m not. Not really. All this fighting, winning, and losing is boring! I’d rather get it over with than participate whole heartedly, I could go back home sooner that way.”
His expression flattened, as if he were suddenly disinterested in you. “Oh, you’re just lazy.”
“Hey! Just because I don’t like punching people around doesn’t mean I’m lazy.” You huffed, copying him as your crossed your own arms over your chest, “I’d just rather be doing other things. Cooler things. Like making my own axe. Look at this dagger—I made it myself.”
You held out a dully sharpened rock out in your hands with a mischievous grin, looking down at it with pride and joy. The lion boy was…unimpressed to say the least, but he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, really. He moved his hand to take the rock knife from you, lifting it up to inspect it in the light.
A few moments passed with him turning it over in his hand before he returned it to you, saying, “why do you train if you don’t have any interest in fighting?”
You shrugged, “I wanna make my parent proud.”
Pocketing your beloved knife creation, you didn’t elaborate any further making a silence fall between the two of you. Shuffling your feet, you look over the lion’s shoulder.
“Won’t you get in trouble for skipping lessons?” You finally asked.
The boy looked back at the direction of his training area before turning back with a nod; “Only if I have no good reason. But I do. I’ll be heading back now.” He waved goodbye to you as he turned to leave, getting a few steps in before looking back at you, “if those kids bully you again, come look for me. I’ll set them straight.”
And with that he jogged away. You waved at him enthusiastically, even if he couldn’t see you, making you take a few seconds to realize something. “Wait,” you yelled out to him, “What’s your name?!”
“Brutus!”
That encounter led the two of your together from that moment on. Unexpectedly, your group mates hadn’t given you any more trouble—physically that is—so you hadn’t had reason to seek out the lion boy. Luckily for you, that opportunity had come with tournament week. The two of you reunited amidst the competition and completely hit it off. The more time the two of you spent together, the closer you became, growing together until even the clan recognized the two of you as best friends.
Eventually, you quit battle training all together, much to Brutus’ dismay, but you promised him that you guys could still hangout after he was done with his. In the mean time, while he trained on the field, you had taken to becoming familiar with weaponry. Your parents were much more encouraging of you becoming an artist rather than a fighter than you’d expected; Their logic had been that every warrior needs a weapon. So quite soon after, you begged the old iron worker to let you apprentice under him. When he finally agreed, it felt like your life was finally on track.
It went on like this for years: you learned how to forge a blade from raw materials while Brutus honed his skills on the battle field. When evening fell, the two of you would meet at the stack of boulders overlooking an oasis a small distance away from the clan grounds. Stories were shared about both your days, what you learned and who he beat. You spoke about the future and how you would make him the best of the best colossal sword, sharp enough to cut through rock yet light enough to carry around. He would only chuckle at your demonstration of how easy it would be to swing the weapon, telling you he looked forward to that day the most, and promising he’d never use any-other’s forged blades.
Alongside each other, the two of you grew—him growing much taller and much faster than you but you accounted it to his laborious daily training. If he noticed that you never reached past his shoulders, he didn’t mention it. You tried to ignore it too, but it was much harder to do when he could quite literally cast a shadow over you whilst standing. As a rule, you made it so that he could never stand within three feet of you while you worked. You had once thought him to be a wall in your peripheral vision, so you tried putting a searing red sword on him. This experience was all it took for you to make that rule. But aside from height, Brutus developed into a strong, capable warrior with a soft heart that did not match his appearance. You often joked that he’d scare his own children to tears with just his stoic expressions, and end up crying with them. On the other hand, he’d consistently remind you how much you’ve changed as well—in a good way. You were no longer the “weakling puppy” he’d first met you as, but now a sly fox. Of course, you’d push him for calling you a puppy, complaining loudly as you did.
“I’m not some dog! Put some respect on my genetics you overgrown cat!”
“‘Overgrown cat’?! Do you want to fight?!”
You two got along great. Really.
But eventually the day came where Brutus was needed for battle. You knew that it’s what he’s been training his whole life for, and that he was the best warrior in your clan, but you still got hurt when he made the announcement to you.
“The northern clan needs our help. They say hypofiend activity has increased, even stone golems are invading their lands. We have to stop them before they find themselves here,” he explained to you as the two of you sat in the traditional spot on the stacked boulders overlooking the oasis.
You didn’t know what to say. One part of you was supportive of him and his desire to be out protecting those around him…but the other part was deathly worried. Other mauler opponents were one thing, but hypofiends? Stone golems? An army of the two together?! The chances of not only defeating them, but surviving the process as well, were lower than you’d wanted to bring up. He called out your name, and you turned to him with a blank look. How could you ask him to stay? How could you tell him to go? How could you be okay in either situation?
“I…” you started, blinking rapidly as your tried to gather your thoughts, “don’t know what to say…”
Surprise filled his expression, “I thought you’d be a little more happy.”
“Happy?” You repeated, “How can I be happy when you’re literally going off to war against unliving beings? I’m nothing but scared.”
Brutus furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest as he usually did when he was standing his ground. “Living or not, I’ve been fighting battles since I was 10. I’m more than capable of keeping myself alive.”
You turned away from him, looking down at the oasis beneath your dangling feet. You didn’t mean to offend him, or to make him think you doubted him. You were just worried, and you didn’t know how to express yourself. Fighting was never your strong suit, disinteresting you to the point of avoidance. That included fighting with Brutus, emotionally. Your fingers clutched the stone dagger you had made all those years ago, dangling on your chest as a necklace that Brutus himself made. It was his contribution to the best friend tokens that you suggested the two of you did, just for fun. Your token was one of the beads he wore in his mane—a lighthearted joke that was an insider between the two of you.
A sich left your lips, and you hugged your knees. “Alright then,” you said, “be safe.”
Brutus didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected you to behave so detachedly, but it put him off anyways. Why did you seem to believe he couldn’t do it? He though you of all people would know his strength and congratulate him for his upcoming battles. After all, the pride of the lions was the victory of duels. Just as it was for the clan. Wearing a cold expression, Brutus didn’t respond as he turned to head back to the grounds. That was his biggest regret.
The next morning, the clans fiercest warriors were gone, including Brutus. You were still sore from your argument last night, but there was nothing you could do now. All that was left was for you to hope and pray that your best friend would make it back.
You were left praying for 8 months. During that time, you immersed yourself into your forging; Day and night you crafted creating metalwork after metalwork to distract yourself. In working so hard, for so long, it was inevitable that you soon became one of the most highly skilled blacksmiths in the clan--not that there were any to begin with, aside from your teacher; Another reason why your work had soon become sought after. There were many reasons behind all the passion you poured into each individual piece you made but regret was never one of them. While you dearly missed your best friend, you were more dejected by the realization that the two of your paths were fated to run parallel to each other, never crossing. Where you were uninterested in the heat of a fight, Brutus only cared about his weapons when he was using them to strike down his opponents. There really wasn't any space for the two of you two to walk together.
So, you devoted your every breath to chasing the one pleasure you knew would never leave you. And it was worth it--almost. Your handcrafted weapons grew in demand, even the most notable of warriors wielded your art. It had gotten to a point where custom requests were given to you to forge a weapon unique only to its master. Over time, your old teacher weened you off his guidance until you were able to run his shop on your own. Of course he was still around, stocking resources and keeping records, but he had all but given you ownership. All things considered, you would almost deem your life perfect.
Now, during the winter, the amount of orders you had lessened slightly as compared to other seasons. You had closed shop early to work on commission designs. As you made your way to the stack of boulders overlooking the oasis, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.
Where was Brutus? Was he okay? When would he return? Would he return?
Your ears twitched on your head as you walked and you reached a hand up absentmindedly to rub it soothingly. Reaching the spot, you silently sat down, dangling your feet over the edge, and pulling out the blueprints of ideas you had for some customers. Digging out a pencil from your pockets, you went to work, filling the silent atmosphere with scribbling noises. You kicked your feet without much thought unconsciously releasing the stress that blanketed your body. It wasn't unusual to find you here, alone, doing nothing but drawing plans or staring up at the sky. You enjoyed the peace that came with the isolation out here, but there were times when you couldn't help but reminisce that company you once had. Another twitch of your ears had you poking them with your pencil to get them to settle down.
"The purpose of reflexes is to keep you aware of your surroundings," a deep voice spoke from beneath you. You startled at their words, immediately perking up as you looked around. "They keep you alive."
Looking down to your right, you finally saw him. He stood tall, taller than you remember...bigger than you remembered too. The leather body armor he wore before had been replaced by metal; A shoulder guard protected his left while a fur pelt adorned his left. On his wrists were metal goblets colored brown with gold accents. Only a leather strap covered his bare chest, but his bottom clothes remained the same. His mane was wild, fully undone with only two braids--one of which was held together by a familiar bead. You were speechless.
It felt like minutes had passed in silence before you jumped up and hurried off the rocks. Like some old married couple, separated by a war, you ran to him and leaped up throw your arms around his shoulders (you feel short quite a distance, but it didn't matter. Brutus had picked you up with strong arms).
"You're back?!" You shouted rhetorically, face burying itself into his coarse fur, "When did you get back?!"
"Not to long ago. When I didn't find you on the grounds, I figured you would be here."
Suddenly you pushed yourself away from him, making you land on the ground, " You asshole! What took you so long? It's been almost a year--was the battle too seductive for you to look away long enough to at least send me a letter?!"
Brutus sighed, his lion ear twitching as he did so, "I had no time. There were more enemies than we anticipated, and they seemed to continuously pour out from the earth. If it wasn't for a mage we encountered, I would still be out there fighting."
You sulked, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded him. Angrily, your tail swished behind you.
"I apologize," he finished after a momentary pause.
At that, your resolve crumbled a little, enough for you to let out your own sigh before you leaned into him for another hug. With his front exposed as it was, his fur tickled your face lightly making you pull your head back slightly.
"I like the new look," You told him, "you look really different."
Both his arms wrapped around you, engulfing you in an embrace that consumed your. "Bad different?" He asked.
"No," was all you said. Relishing in his grasp, your mind raced as you processed that your best friend was back--he was right here, standing Infront of you after almost a year. A million emotions ran through you and you struggled to find just one to focus on. Brutus didn't say anything else either, just allowing the two of you to grow reaccustomed to the other. You were surprised you hadn't started crying.
When you pulled away once again, Brutus said, "So...I've heard your smithing skills are a clan pride."
A shy smile appeared on your face, "You could say that. I think I still have a lot to live up to in comparison to Teacher Arlo, but my work is out there."
He made a thoughtful noise and turned to eye his colossal blade that he had stabbed into the ground. "I could do with a new blade. This one is dulling."
Out of habit, you had noticed his large blade immediately after spotting him from above, but only now did you have the chance to fully inspect it. He was right, all along the edge of his weapon there were chips and dents in the metal--the metal itself seemed of lesser quality but you figured he didn't have many purchase option out on the battle field. The handle was well worn, the fabric that lined the grip slightly torn and miscolored. It was...a pretty sad sight to see. Letting out a click of your tongue, you poked the metal with your finger; "I think dulling might be an understatement...But no worries. I haven't forgotten my promise to you when we were kids. I already have something back at the shop."
Brutus looked shocked, "you remember that?"
"Of course, I didn't forget everything just because you ran off to war--still upset by the way, you didn't even say bye to me. Jerk."
Your words made his surprise morph into a soft expression, his normally stone expression tainted with something you couldn't recognize. It made your heart flutter, and just like that you were reminded of the old times. Turning away from you, he uprooted his blade--his arms flexing with strength but you definitely weren't looking--before looking back, saying, "On my honor, I will make it up to you."
With that, the two of you set off on the path back to blacksmith shop you lived in. Stories of all that happened were exchanged between you two, catching the both of you up on all the important life events that transpired in the other's absence. If you let yourself feel it, you could almost swear the two of you were a year younger acting like nothing would ever change. It scared you to understand that a few things had.
You would never, ever, tell Brutus, but during his time away you had been forced to sort through things on your own...including your understanding of why his departure had left you so sore. It took weeks of not hearing from him to realize that you were so worried, much more than a friend. Why? Because you didn't just love him, you were in love with him. Needless to say, that made you spiral, but on the bright side, some of your best weapons were created during that time. Your teacher had praised you saying he had never seen such a balanced arrow before. Admittedly, that made you feel a little better. However, now that you knew the fluttering of your heart whenever you were with Brutus wasn't because you were just having a happy time but because he was your happiness.
This much couldn't be said to be the same for your best friend though. He had never shown any signs that he reciprocated your feelings. Right now, you were too focused on the excitement of having him back to face the struggle of keeping yourself sane around him, but you knew later on would be different.
"It took me a while to perfect the ideas I had in my head, but I was so proud of the way it came out. I hope you'll like it because you never gave me any ideas to go off of. I was basically going in blind!" You warned him when you finally reached the shop and lead him to the back room.
"It'll be fin--omph"
You whipped around at the thud that resounded, reaching out in the darkness to light up a lantern. Brutus held his forehead, bending down as he walked into the room after you.
"It's lower than I remember..."
Laughter bubble out of you once you registered what happened, "Haha, no. You've just grown. Inflated like a muscle balloon. Seriously, what happened. Oh look, here it is!"
Using all your strength, your pulled on the large wooden box that rested vertically on the wall. Grunting wit effort, you dragged it to the lion who walked crouched to meet you halfway. Taking it from you, Brutus lifted the container on the table and dropped it with a thud. Impatient, you lifted the lid for him with a 'ta-da' and exposed the giant silver blade inside. It was silver in color, and double edged with an opening along the middle as if you had stuck two swords together. The end of the blade flattened out into a curved geometry that would allow easier swinging motions. The handle was covered in a thick leather that was wrapped around sturdy metal, allowing for a secure handle that would never break. You explained all your designed choices to the lion as he took out the weapon to examine it in his hands.
"It's even--whoah! Don't swing it in here, you're going to cut off my tail!" You yelped, taking a step back to avoid his movements.
Brutus admired the craft, flipping it over and looking it tip-to-end with a sharp gaze; Then he looked back to you, his tail flicking side-to-side intensely. "It's marvelous," he commented.
You preened, putting your hands on your hips with a big smile, "Of course it is! I promised you the best, didn't I?"
"You did," he agreed, slowly putting the blade back in its case, "And you honored your promise. Please, let me honor mine."
He stepped towards you, reaching his hands out to gently pull your body into his. You gladly accepted his invitation, letting yourself fall against his large body. This really wasn't safe for your infatuated heart, but you couldn't help but nuzzle into him, taking great pleasure in the way he oversized you. If new fantasizes arose from this, you couldn't be blamed. Wait, what were you thinking?! He was your best friend! Your body tensed at your thoughts and you moved to pull away, but Brutus' strong hands kept you in place. His face leaned between your ears atop your head making them tic as his breath fluttered over them. Out of your control, your tail flicked behind you with a mind of its own but responding to your emotions. All you could do was hope Brutus didn't connect the signs.
Your fingers buried themselves into his mane, scratching lightly and received a tightening grip around your waist in response.
"The battles I fought were easier than this," Brutus grumbled into your hair. Why did he sound...disgruntled?
"With them I knew what to expect. I've never been defeated in a fight," he continued. You made a sound of agreement with your throat to show him you were listening. "But now, I only expect defeat."
"Defeat in what?" You were confused, wasn't the war already over? Unless this was a dream, there was no battle that he was currently fighting. Did all that sparring with stone golems mess with his head...
"Us."
You chuckled, "Us? What, are you breaking up with me?"
He didn't respond for a second making you think your joke might not actually be a joke, but then you remembered you weren't even in a relationship. So you called out to him, "Brutus?"
Suddenly, he pulled you away enough to look you in the eyes. "No. The opposite actually," he said vaguely, a cold expression on his face, "If this spurs you, then I have twice as much to ask forgiveness for."
Before you could question just what on earth he was talking about, he leaned down and kissed you. Stupidly, you froze, completely stunned by the turn of events. His kiss held force which was reasonable for him but at the same time it was gentle, cautious. You didn't process the situation until he was already pulling away from you; Pulling on his mane, you lured him back to you in a chance to redeem yourself. Overflowing emotion filled your lips as you tried to convey your emotions to him. His hands covered your back as he held you tightly, pulling you flush against him so that he could kiss you harder. It felt like months--no, years--of repressed emotions were drowning the two of you and it was enough to make your heart break.
His rough tongue lapped at your lips as the kiss quickly heated causing you to open your mouth to grant him entry. Just like the rest of him, his tongue was sizeable and quickly filled your mouth as he tasted the inside of it. Desperation was quick to settle amongst the two of you, stroking both of your hearts as you took, and took from one another. Seemingly making up for lost time, Brutus picked you up effortlessly and guided your legs to wrap around his hips. He didn't move away from his spot despite what you thought, acting rooted to the ground as his hands began kneading your body. You could feel his sharp claws through your clothes which made a shiver run down your spine, the danger he held in his body made your heart race with thrill. Careful not to hurt it, Brutus gripped you tail with one of his hands, stopping it in its wagging movement to tug at it lightly.
You moaned softly into his mouth, squeezing your arms around him as a bolt of electricity shot through you. When you felt that the small barbs of his tongue were licking your mouth sore, you pulled away from the kiss. Brutus was displeased by this and let out a faint rumble in his chest before moving to lap at your neck. You could feel his ears twitching at the sound of your soft moans near them, and you almost felt bad that you were irritating them, but then Brutus flexed his claws out to tear the back of your shirt.
"Brutus!" You scolded, turning your head to see your naked back. He only licked a stripe up your cheek as he pulled your shirt away to toss on the ground. Like this he was able to access the skin on your shoulders and chest so the end justified the means. Unlucky for you, that top was the only thing that had been separating you from skin to fur contact; With it gone, and Brutus shifting your body around to lick at different spots, your nipples were vulnerable to the friction against his coarse fur. Stimulated by his tongue lapping your skin, his hand tugging your tail, and your nipples rubbing against him, your moans increased in volume. You began to rock your hips against his unconsciously. He growled lowly again, using the hand that tore your shirt to grip your ass tightly.
From your peripheral vision, you saw his own lion tail restlessly flicking behind him and you yearned to pull on it the way he pulled at yours. Instead, you moved your arms to undo the armor he wore on his shoulders. He let you work, too busy nipping his sharp teeth into your neck and groping your behind. Your moving hips only encouraged his to rut up into you faintly.
With a disruptive clang, his metal shoulder guard fell to the ground, soon followed by the pelt he wore. Like this, you had much more access all around his completely bare chest and experimentally scratched your fingers through the fur. Granted, you weren't sure how much pleasure he gained from your exploring movements, but he seemed content enough as he didn't stop you. Instead, he hoisted you up higher, no longer interested with the skin of your neck, to drag his rough tongue over the erect buds on your chest. You moaned out loudly at the sensation, arching your back to push your nipples further into his face to chase the feeling.
"I've spent nights just imagining what you would sound like," He spoke, voice just above a growl. He took one of your buds into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it before sucking on it harshly, releasing it with a pop. Mimicking his actions, Brutus did the same to the other, finishing his thoughts, "My dreams could never amount to the real thing."
Breathlessly, you considered his words to understand what he meant, "How long," a sigh of pleasure, "how long have you felt this way?"
"Years, maybe. The teenage ones were the worst. I'll never understand how you never realized how much I craved you."
Another tug at your tail and a rut of his hips into yours made your head fall onto his shoulder. "You never said anything," you mumbled into his mane.
But he was too busy to respond. With one last harsh lick to your sensitive nipples, he raised his head again to kiss you. You felt his hand leave your rear to push down his pants and you had a moment of clarity; "Don't tear my--"
The sound of ripping filled the room. You lifted your head to give the lion a highly unamused look but he only, once again, licked your cheek to soothe you. Cats, you thought pettily. Just like with your shirt, Brutus--quite literally--tore away the remains of your bottoms to leave you completely bare. Not wanting to waste any more time, he held his member against your entrance. You sucked in a breath; It made sense to assume that he would be big...but this seemed too big. You squirmed against him and he placated you with a kiss on the forehead.
"Be brave, little fox," he said. Then he was pushing into you. The deeper he went the more it felt like air was punched out of you; Stretching out your walls like you'd never experienced before, you held onto him tightly, gasping for breath. Much like the rest of him, his tip was was a sharp point with a bulbous ridge, but still slimmer than the base. Mercifully, he gave you a few moments to adapt to the intrusion, nipping and lapping at your jaw as he waited. Once you no longer struggled to breathe, you tugged at the fur around his head to signal him to move; He lost no time in accepting your sign.
A deep purr like rumble vibrated in his chest as he began to move inside you and you could feel it with your own. His hand returned to your ass you grip it tightly, guiding you as he lifted and pulled you down with it in rhythm to his thrusts. Muffled cries fell from your lips and he stuffed you with his cock, doing nothing but already hitting your G-spot with his thickness. When he pulled on your tail again, the sensitivity mixed with the pleasure and you leaned back in an arch, convulsing with gratification. Brutus shifted his weight, spreading his legs a bit so that he could push better inside you standing up; Pretty quickly, wet noises filled the room, accompanied by measured slapping. As a warrior, Brutus was firm by nature, and as a lion, he was lead by pride--both of these together were a dangerous combination for you.
His sharp canines sank into your skin, making you cry out and tug harder at his mane. His tail whipped to his side, wrapping around your waist and making you feel completely engulfed in his grasp.
"You asked why I didn't tell you," he grunted out with shallow breaths, "But you never told me either."
He gave a particularly hard thrust into you, making his balls press against you, and he gruffly huffed. Your mind was reeling from the pleasure of it all which made you take more than a few moments to respond.
"I--was afraid," you confessed with a shudder as the tension in core core built. You gyrated your hips shakily to match his movements and whining out loud when it only served to add friction against your sensitive groin.
"I never gave you reason to fear me," Brutus complained, squeezing your ass, "I've always protected you."
"Th--This is dif--erent..." You wished this conversation hadn't come up during this time. Seductive pleasure was wracking your body, destroying your ability to think clearly which only barred you from properly communicating with him. Brutus lifted his head, enough so that he could take the tip of your ear into his teeth in a light bite.
Your ear twitched in his caging nip, but he didn't let go, fully riding out the possessive feeling that drowned him from consciousness. When the base of his cock began swelling, stretching you even further, you took it as a sign that he was close. Trying your best, you rocked your weight against him, expending the last of your energy in your legs that helped keep you hoisted up on his hips. But the extra movement helped. With you slamming down onto his cock over and over and over, Brutus growled loudly, and you felt the way his knot moved inside you to lock you in his hold.
With a final tug at the base of your fail, and a tight grip on your rear, Brutus came inside you. His seed was hot and plentiful, effectively warming up your gushy walls and plugging you full to make sure you accepted everything he gave. His hips were pushed impossible deep into yours, the head of his dick making a bulge appear on your stomach. You moaned out wantonly, going stiff in his arms as his orgasm triggered your own; You came hard, contracting around him is sporadic motions as you coped with the large mass sitting inside you, still pressed against the oversensitive bundle of nerves. You hadn't realized how hard you were pulling on Brutus' mane until seconds later after your high faded to a reasonable level. With sore fingers, you released his fur and slugged against him, letting him do all the work in holding you up.
"It's not different," Brutus finally said, his voice much deeper as the lust from essentially breeding you flowed through his veins, "I am your warrior. I'll always stand by your side. Either as a friend, or as a partner."
He then kissed the top of your head, softly releasing his hold on your tail, and moving to find a spot to rest with you still in his arms. You were too gone to garner a reply, already feeling beyond sleepy as you nestled into his warm chest. You mentally promised him that the two of you would talk properly once you rested; Brutus seemed to understand as well.
"Rest. I'll take care of you."
As you dozed off into a sleep still tied to the lion with his knot inside you, you felt him murmur: "I love you".
17 notes · View notes
jupiterwrites99 · 1 year
Text
You're On Your Own, Kid
Chapter 3
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Waking up alone in the quiet room wasn’t exactly what the young girl had expected. Sage thought that they would have a guard dog on her at all times after she had tried to escape. She sat up, noticing the chair Paul had been sitting in was still in place beside her bed, but he was no longer there. A full glass of water, however, was next to it on the side table.
The wolf cooed at the gesture.
Sage made her way into the living room to find Paul's sleeping figure on the rustic couch. He looked so peaceful. No angry lines, or locked jaw. He looked much younger asleep, though she had a tough time deciphering his age.
Clenching her fingers at her side, her inner turmoil worsened. As much as she wanted to leave, to be on her own again where it was safer, she can’t leave him. Not with the way her wolf was whining so loudly. If it trusts him, then she should too. They’ve never been on the same page on the topic of trust, now's a good time to start considering her wolf hasn't let her down yet.
Listening to the soft sounds of his breathing, Sage sits on the floor next to the couch. She had decided that sleep wasn’t needed, she had practically slept all day anyways. But there was no way she was going back into that room where she could easily be locked away at Sam or Sues account. She didn’t trust them. She couldn’t.
It's better than the bed, she decided as she laid down. She pulled her knees to her chest, curling up into a ball.
Another thing she had to learn quite quickly, don’t let your weak spots be exposed when relaxing. One claw to the stomach and she’d be a goner. That, she knew from experience.
She purposefully listened to the sound of Paul's heartbeat, the steady rhythm providing more comfort than she could understand. She enjoyed knowing he could relax and sleep peacefully, even if it meant being on a couch that was two sizes too small for him.
Though, the wolf made it clear why it wanted to stay, humming one word she never thought she would hear again.
Mate.
Blinking her eyes open, the morning sun stunned her eyes.
Sun? Here? In La Push?
She stretched her limbs only to be tangled up in a blanket. She noticed she was now on the couch and Paul was nowhere to be found.
Great. He left me alone, she thought.
Sage could hear Paul and Emily bickering on the other side of the wall, though she was confused at the context of their conversation. She tiptoed around, if she’s quiet enough she can sneak out the door without either of them hearing. Or so she hoped.
“Don’t be an insensitive klutz, is all I’m saying. That's the last thing she needs right now.” Emily mused, it didn’t sound like an insult. Whatever an insensitive klutz is. It sounded like a mother reprimanding her son. 
Emilys so young though, there's no way she’s his mother. 
Sister, maybe?
She could hear as Paul scoffed in annoyance, “I’m not.”
Emily was quick to put him in his place again, “Paul, you know you’re intimidating, you revel in it most days.”
“Not with her,” He stressed out.
Who is he talking about?
Sage tripped over her feet and put her hand on the wall to stop herself from falling. A small thud sounded on the impact she had made.
Fuck.
I can still make it, she thought.
She moved quickly in the direction of the open door. Do they always leave it open? 
A large figure rounded the corner, causing her to stop in her tracks. Looking up at Paul, his hair dishevelled and tired eyes. She let her eyes continue to travel down, still no shirt and sweatpants that hung low on his well defined hips. Very low.
Was she purring or was that the wolf?
Looking at her amused, Paul purposefully blocked her exit before he asked, “Hungry?”
Sage shook her head no.
He sighed, running his fingers through his black, cropped hair, “You barely ate yesterday, come eat something.”
Growling, she dug her heels into the ground like a little kid. All she wanted was to go outside and breathe some fresh air, away from these people who refused to let her leave. She could tell from the open windows that the sun was shining, a rarity in Washington. She didn’t want to be stuck indoors.
Taking a deep breath to clearly hide his annoyance, he muttered, “Sage,”
“Air,” She croaked out. Not knowing what else to say, she had never been much of a talker. Talking always got her in trouble. His intense stare made her nervous.
“Air?” He looked confused. What was so confusing about needing air? Everyone needs it.
“Fresh air, Paul.” Emily chimed in.
“No.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Not after what you pulled yesterday.”
Sage frowned at his response. He’s gonna lock her back in that tiny, suffocating room.
Panic mode, activated.
Sage whipped her head around the room, looking for an alternative exit. Her breaths began to become shallow as she realised he truly was blocking her only real exit.
Try hurling yourself through the window, the wolf taunted.
“Calm down,” Paul said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder which she immediately jerked back from.
Now he’s frowning, “Fine. But just know, I am faster and stronger than you if you try to run.”
Wasn’t planning on it, buddy.
She sighed in relief as soon as the sun hit her skin, a smile gracing her face at the warm feeling. She hadn’t felt the sun on her bare skin in years. In wolf form, she liked the sun in small doses, overheating was easy and when you can’t find a consistent water source, it was deadly.
Sage was aware of the older man watching her every move, with each step his eyes followed.
She crouched to the ground to touch a small flower that had grown in the grass, or maybe it was a weed. Plucking it with her fingers, she used the pad of her index finger to feel its texture. Everything felt so foreign.
She wished she had pockets to stuff the tiny wildflower in.
Pauls got pockets, maybe he’ll -- Her thought was cut off as Emily began speaking to him in hushed tones. She turned to look at them and realised he was no longer watching her.
She watched them interact curiously as Emily handed him a piece of paper before scruffing his hair and heading back inside. Definitely his sister.
“Emily suggested I take you grocery shopping.” He said to her, his eyes flicking down to the small flower in her hand before looking at the paper in his, muttering,  “If you’re up for it.’
She walked towards him as she made a sound on content. Though she really just wanted to scope the town. Which roads lead where so when she did decide to leave, it wouldn’t be that hard.
Paul's eyes travelled down her body, making her squirm before he brought his eyes back up to hers, “You’ll need some pants.”
----
“What about these?” Paul asked, shaking a box of sugary cereal. They had been doing this for nearly ten minutes. He would point out a food item, ask if she wanted it and when she said no, he would bite back a groan while putting it back.
Sage shakes her head,
“Okay” He stopped abruptly, leaning against the card that was still empty even though they had been down nearly every aisle,  “What did you eat before you phased?”
“I don’t know.” She mumbled, looking away from his hard gaze.
“Come on, kid, give me something to work with.” Paul muttered.
Sage scowled at him, “I’m not a kid. I ate whatever I was given, I didn't have a choice.”
His eyes scanned her face as if he was thinking before looking down at the list in his hands, “I don’t know if you’ll like any of this, Sage.”
“I can find my own food.” Sage brooded, “I always have.”
“Always?” He asked shocked.
“Well, yeah.” She started “We’re wol--”
Paul's eyes widened as he realized what she was about to say. He quickly reached over and covered her mouth with the palm of his hand to cut her off. Sage glared at him before roughly pushing him away from her.
“What is your problem?!” She asked, annoyed by his actions.
“What is my problem? We’re in public, Sage. Keep your mouth shut.” He snapped back at her.
The younger girl huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, “You’re a fucking jerk.”
“Yeah, I’m a jerk,” Paul jeered, shaking his head with a laugh of disbelief, “Nothing new there, princess.”
“Fuck you,” Sage sneered before turning on her heel and walking out of the aisle. She could hear the string of curse words that left his mouth as she rounded out of the aisle, beeling it for the exit of the small grocery store. She ignored her wolf's voice in her head, pleading with her to turn around and go back to him but she had promised herself five years ago to never be somebody's doormat. She was stronger than that.
Stepping outside into the fresh air, she only made it a few steps before a warm hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Sage turned to see Paul. She couldn't read his expression, angry lines framed his already dark features but she could tell it wasn't just anger, there was something more.
“I think I liked you better yesterday.” He started.
Sage scoffed, “The feeling is mutual.”
The older wolf's jaw shifted at her response and she smirked, she liked that he was on edge around her. He was so much bigger and intimidating than she was but she was the one in control of her emotions making her less predictable.
“I'm sorry, Sage.” He apologized, though she could tell that it left a bitter taste in his mouth to be the one conceding, “Can we please finish grocery shopping before Emily wrings my neck?”
“Only if you stop calling me stupid names. I’m not a kid, and I’m not a princess.” She spoke harshly. She was a runt, she knew that. She had been told it for years by her own father. Sage wasn’t going to let her own mate treat her like one, not after how hard she fought to survive out on her own.
He nodded in response, “Won’t happen again.”
The two wolves walked silently next to each other as they re-entered the grocery store. Paul asked for a second time what she liked to eat, and to stop him from questioning her again, she picked the first thing she saw off the shelf and tossed it into the shopping cart. A bag of marshmallows.
Satisfied that Sage had picked out something that wasn’t on the list Emily had given him, he dragged her back down the aisles to fulfil the list. Grabbing heaps of vegetables and fruits, before stopping in the meat section. Though she didn’t understand why. They were a house full of wolves who could easily go out and catch a deer and she told him exactly that, “Why are we buying meat? We can just catch it.”
“That's true, but we don’t know how to skin it or whatever butchers do.” He said placing the different meats from Emily's list in the cart.
“So?” She squinted her eyes, looking at the weird meat.
“Humans can’t digest raw meat.” He told her softly. The softest he’s spoken to her since finding her in the woods. She liked this side of him.
Right.  Forgot about that.
Paul crossed off that last of the items before ushering her in the direction of the cashiers. As they waited, the sounds and smells around her began to become overwhelming. One smell in particular nearly made her snap the handle on the cart from how tightly she was holding it.
She knew that smell.
“We should leave.” Sage spoke quickly and quietly to Paul.
“Hm?” He mumbled, looking down at her, His face turned from confusion to concern quickly at the now antsy girl beside him.
“I need to go.” She rushed out.
He grabbed her hand as she let go of the cart, telling Sage in a hushed tone, “You're okay.”
She calmed at the touch but shook her head, turning her body into his so that all she can sense is his cologne and scent. Breathing deeply as he rubs soothing circles on her back. She was so comfortable in his arms it made her nervous, though she had bigger issues to avoid at the moment.
To the average person in the grocery store, they looked like your typical young couple. Unaware of the fact that the trembles running through her weren’t from the frigid air, but the cusp of a panic induced shift. Sage wasn’t sure what scared her more, the familiar scent that she loathed to catch a hint of again or the fact that she might get stuck on four legs again if the cashier didn’t hurry up.
Sage admired Paul for keeping his composure as he paid for the groceries before whisking her away and out of the store underneath his arm, tucked into his side. She can’t help but feel guilty for making such a mundane thing so difficult for him.
They crossed the parking lot together and as he opened the trunk of his SUV, he glanced at her, their eyes meeting for a split second before she turned away. Shame and embarrassment written all over her. 
Paul placed his hands on her shoulders and she instantly relaxed into him, as he whispered, “Breathe.”
Sage grimaced. It’s not like she's not trying. She focused on the warmth emitting from his palms and onto her shoulders. Warm and cosy like a blanket. She acts before she thinks, wrapping her arms around Paul's torso. A sigh escapes her lips as her entire body is enveloped in his warmth. Breathing feels easier as all the panic subsides.
“You’re okay,” He reminds her, bringing a hand up to her hair and holding her against him.
“Can we go?” Sage pleaded quietly.
The drive back to Sams was quiet. Sage was acutely aware of his hand on her hand that she had resting on her thigh as he drove back to Emilys. Sage fought the urge to slot hers completely into his much larger hand. She can’t help but wonder how he knows exactly how to comfort her. She barely knows what comforts her. Sunsets were her only true comfort for the last five years. It meant the hunters were leaving, very rarely did she come across any during the night. She could sleep through the night without the lingering anxiety of human threats.
“Hot chocolate.” Sage said out loud, almost as if she had a revelation. And maybe she did. Her grandma would always make her hot chocolate, for any occasion, happy or sad. It was a comfort.
“Hm?” Paul hummed, glancing at her before looking back to the road.
She smiled softly to herself, looking out the passenger window as they passed a bunch of little shops,“I liked hot chocolate before.”
He squeezes her hand gently, “Sue’s got a great recipe. We can make some tonight.”
A blush formed over her cheeks at the gesture, before she gingerly said, “I want to go to the beach.”
A smile formed on his face, softening all his hard features, “Yeah, whatever you want, Sage.”
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iladkaren · 2 years
Text
THE CONSIGLIERE: Chapter I
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Pairing: Mafia!BTS x Reader
Summary:
An internship gone wrong.
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
"Work for you?" That was the first time you met Ji-Hye. She had a soft voice that reminded you of your mother, but her bright eyes held an intelligence behind them.
You were looking through the new paintings for this month's art fair when she came up behind you. You nearly dropped your drink, but managed to save it without making a fool of yourself.
"I guess so," you said awkwardly. A little nervous under her gaze, you fidgeted before realizing you should offer your hand.
The Hwan Ji-Hye. Beautiful. Smart. Kind. An overall perfectionist who cared deeply about how things worked. The perfect girlfriend. The perfect fiancée.
Dionysus Museum's Founding Director and Curator. Well-known for supporting avant-garde performance art. She has repeatedly provided a stage to aspiring performance artists at the beginning of their carrers, launching many a brilliant career. She believes that artist must be activists, and that Dionysus Museum provides a venue for fruitful, challenging debates through a fresh, boundary-breaking art.
She is also a great teacher, an incredibly kind person with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. And, while some have argued that she lacks creativity, she has proven countless times that there is a place for all creative ideas.
Her father, a prominent lawyer and judge, had been among the founders of the museum as well.
She was amused by your reaction. "Yes, we have an open internship this month. You should consider applying. I see you have an artistic eye."
You blushed slightly. "Oh, thank you, I didn't know they offered internships. It seems a bit odd though."
She smiled sweetly. "Well, no one else from other schools applied here, which means you may actually get in. But don't go jumping into things too quickly!"
"Uhm... that's... I just enjoy painting." You uncomfortably denied.
A sly smile spread across her lips. "Is that right?"
Your face felt hot. Why did she make everything sound so seductive? It was probably the makeup. No wonder you were having such trouble keeping your eyes off her. She was breathtaking. You were completely lost, and you hated it.
"Exactly what we require. Are you, by chance, a Fine Arts student?" She inquired, but you had a sneaking suspicion she already knew.
"Not exactly. I'm taking a year away to get my master's degree in Fine Arts, but, uhm... I haven't completed the semester yet." You nodded.
"That's fantastic! We are now seeking for additional help. We're a touch short on employees." She pointed in the direction of the ushers and guides who worked behind her.
You noticed that each guide wore a red buttoned shirt underneath their suit jackets. Each had black trousers and shoes, and carried a clipboard.
"Are those… your ushers?" You asked.
Ji Hye gave you an enigmatic smile. "We prefer to refer to them as guides, yes."
You did the math. There were a total of seven, which was obviously insufficient for a museum of this size. "I'd have to think about it."
The young woman leaned forward. "Don't think too hard. Just say the word."
You were silent for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. Your eyes darted from person to person before settling back to her.
"Oh." She seemed depressed all of a sudden. Nonetheless, she persisted in asking, "have you ever accepted an internship before?"
"Uhm... no. I'm still on the lookout." You replied. You thought the conversation was over until her face suddenly lit up again.
"At the very least, consider it. It would make me quite delighted if you chose this internship." She softly held your arm to reassure you. "I can tell you're one of a kind."
Her smile made you feel special somehow, which surprised you. It wasn't like you were a pretty girl or anything—in fact, you thought that you looked more like someone who had spent three years playing tennis than anything else. And yet, something made you trust her. Maybe it was her confident demeanor, or her gentle manner.
It would appear that an angel had gone past. The uneasy pause seemed to go far too long. In reality, it had taken less than a minute. "Ah," you finally said, "thank you."
She squeezed your arm in reply. "Let's hope that it comes true. If not, it's okay. I'll find another way to attract new interns."
"I should probably leave." To avoid the embarrassment, you gently moved backwards, but not before saying, "but thank you for offering. I'll think about it." You instantly turned around and raced through the museum's front doors. When you realized you had made it back to your car with only seconds to spare, you stopped dead in your tracks. This entire afternoon had been a mess, and you felt utterly stupid. You were usually quite good at improvising on the spot, but nothing prepared you for Ji Hye.
Maybe you shouldn't have done that? What if it got her angry? Then again, what if it didn't? Would you have any chance of working for them then?
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
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boldlyanxious · 1 year
Text
Robinhood
reposted from ao3. Was supposed to be a one shot but as it neared 20k I broke it into chapters
Masterlist
Chapter 1
She had a plan.
There was a way to get out of this situation with no one being hurt. At least not any more than they already were. Too many were suffering in their attempts to protect her secret. She wasn’t sure she had earned that. True, she was using what she had to help those in need but she was hiding her true self and not standing up to those in power to actually make things better. She wasn’t sure that she could but now, Lord Gabriel had found out and he intended to stop her.
She couldn’t face him but hopefully she could find someone who would stand up to him. He had positioned himself as her helper and protector but so many others were left suffering. She couldn’t just watch it happen.
That is why she had devised a plan to sneak out. But that would take time. There were still too many things not in place. Tonight would not be a good night for that.
But the circumstances demanded that she do something.
They were coming for her. They claimed it was for her own protection but they only wished to control her. With her parents gone and all the others on the run, she would have to solve this herself. She regretted denying the supplies to those in need, but it was the best thing she could come up with on short notice. She would try to still give them as much as she could by taking up the smallest space possible.
She heard the steps coming as she shoved the blankets into a cupboard. It was either that or the food. Hopefully she was guessing right in the food being the more urgent need. She pulled the lid down just before the guards entered in search of her. She could hear her lady's maid being threatened. There was a slap when she froze instead of answering their questions immediately.
“She was in the garden,” Alya said. “She always wanders in the garden after breakfast. Every day.”
Lady Marinette bit her lip to keep from yelling out for them to stop as she could hear them still being rough with her. It would not help for her to show herself now. Alya would be treated the same and Marinette would be trapped, unable to get away.
“Lord Jason,” the man said, with a mock bow. “It's so good to see you finally fulfilling your purpose.”
When he was young, his adoptive father had been proud to give him his name and Jason had considered it a badge of honor but most of the other nobles had deemed him unworthy. They said he would put a stain on the Wayne name. Perhaps he had been, but the stain from the Agreste was far worse. He had called himself Robin when he left. He had left to find out who he actually was. It wasn’t until he came back that he learned about himself.
His father and brothers were gone, banished by the criminals who had taken over. They may be noble by birth but that didn’t give them the right to lord themselves over all the rest. He would put a stop to it. He wasn’t the only one. He had heard many whispers about a Ladybug who would show up in the desperate towns with food and supplies. She would arrive and hand everything out and be gone without any of the nobles discovering her.
He raised a knife to the man’s throat. “I hate to disappoint,” he said simply.
He wouldn’t be able to convince the man that what he was doing was right even if he wanted to. But he really didn’t care. He would do anything to stop the corruption that had infested Gotham and that included blocking all the trade lines. All the food was redistributed and the money went to those who were hit hardest by the current state of things. Stealing a few trinkets from Agreste’s son didn’t bother him in the slightest. It actually pleased him quite a bit.
Adrien was sent on his way after being deprived of all their opulent valuables as well as the many trunks of food and blankets they were hoarding. They didn’t harm him or even take all his money, just the jewels and supplies.
The crew quickly set about getting the loot to the storage. They were excited to be able to head to a nearby village tomorrow to pass out the food. They had recently been hit by the thugs working for Lord Agreste and would definitely need some help. He hefted the trunk onto the shelf with a loud sound followed by a small grunt. He looked around and no one else was in there with him right now. No one was visible. But the trunk he had just put away had definitely made a sound.
Adrien had helped her hide. He was the only reason she had been able to keep giving as long as she had. He had warned her where the guards were going and which places would be safe. He always told her where his father’s men had been and then he warned her when he found out she was in danger. He didn’t know details of her other plans to escape. Everytime she mentioned wanting to leave, he just got quiet.
That was probably for the best. He had difficulty when it came to choosing anything over pleasing his father. She knew he didn’t want her to leave but when he found out that his father had discovered her Ladybug secret, he told her right away. The method was not ideal, but he visited her nearly every day so it looked perfectly normal. The guards would never suspect that he was hiding her.
They had been friends since childhood and it was one of the few times he had been able to stand up to his father. Gabriel had always been cold, but since the death of his wife Emeilie he had become someone entirely different. She and Adrien had bonded even more after the accident. They had been with them but had not been harmed. Her parents had died immediately but Emelie had hung on through the night before she succumbed to her injuries. After the accident, Marinette had stayed with the Agreste’s for a few months but eventually she returned home. Her people still needed her even if she was still grieving. They would mourn with her as she had through all their hardships.
The trunk she had hidden in was very cramped. She had left one blanket along the bottom to cushion it, but that had been a mistake. It had bunched up under her with all the shuffling and was not just in the way. She could feel every shift and she was certain she was covered with bruises. But that was not her immediate concern when the crate was opened. She was supposed to be relieved when it opened because that would mean safety. But she wasn’t sure that was what she found because she recognized the man standing there.
She scoffed at the idea that so many of the people considered Robin Hood a hero. She knew he was doing things that benefited them; she was as well. But she was certain that he was doing it for a purpose of his own. She had known Jason most of her life. Selflessness was not a trait he had ever possessed. He was one of the three families once considered to be the caretakers of this region. But his family left in disgrace after the death of her parents. There were questions asked about what had happened to make the carriage veer off and not stop. The questions were unanswered when they fled rather than responding.
Jason had escaped the fate of being banished because he had been traveling at the time of the accident. Gabriel Agreste had pointed the finger at the Waynes after the accident and their response was to flee. Jason had been away before this had happened and avoided banishment but he had returned and the people immediately flocked to him. But he had brought anything but peace to the region already suffering after having lost so much. With the shift in power, Gabriel had become the only dominant power in the region. Marinette was unable to stand against him as Lady Marinette. She had created Ladybug to give them help and support. There was no one else to fill the void left by the Waynes so Gabriel took the power.
Marinette often wished she knew what her parents would do in the situation. The changes had happened so quickly and she was still young then. Gabriel had been so kind in offering to help her manage for the past few years. But one day when she looked beyond those she saw regularly she realized they were failing. They were her responsibility and she didn’t know how to help them. Gabriel sneered at her explanation of the problem and said they had all they deserved. They could work harder and get what they needed. She disagreed but she was still inexperienced in how to run the entire estate on her own. Whenever she tried to make a change, he fought her on it until she made adjustments to do it his way.
“Well, if it isn’t the little princess running from her failed kingdom,” Jason said when he opened the chest to find Lady Marinette.
She eyed him warily without responding. She was looking for a way to escape but he wouldn’t allow that. She had already been making off with a huge supply of food for herself. He figured it would be a good idea for her to see how the rest of them lived. She finished looking around and seemed to realize that there would be no way for her to get out of the trunk and past him so she opened her mouth to plead with him. He didn’t give her the opportunity. He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her out of the space.
She barely had her feet under her before he pulled her along, causing her to race to keep up or risk being dragged. A crowd had gathered cheering the haul they had just managed to secure with no risk to themselves. Jason moved swiftly to the center of the crowd and deposited Lady Marinette on the ground before them.
“We not only gained supplies but a chance to further teach those in charge about how we live under their boot,” he glared down at her on the ground before him. “She was trying to escape with all the food she could collect and a sack full of jewels.”
He pulled out the bag of jewels she had on her and dumped it over her while the crowd was muttering. He was surprised that they did not all sound as angry as he felt at her obvious wealth. He agreed with what he heard about her clothing. It definitely was not what he would expect from someone of her station, but he had seen the carriage that went by with the one who was aiding her in running away. They pulled out many crates of food along with the trunk she had hidden herself in. Looking down at her, she definitely looked broken but she pushed herself up from where she had been laid out on the ground and looked up at him defiantly.
He remembered her from when she was young. She was a few years younger than him so when he came to live at the Wayne estate he hadn’t been very interested in the same things. But he remembered her bright smile. She would follow him and his brothers around, trying to do the same things as them but she would often get left behind. Whether they did it on purpose to not have to be around a little girl or whether she got distracted by finding a field of flowers, the result was the same. Even if she was eager to follow after them and do the same activities, she would end up turning back when she lost sight of them.
It was one day when they returned back far too late and Bruce had chided them since they had company for dinner. It was nearly dark and they were in dirty clothes from the sports of the day. They were headed up to clean up for the delayed dinner when her parents asked after her. She had followed them, but they had long since ditched her for their own interests. They had been closer to the woods on the property and further from the house than they had abandoned her in the past but none of them thought that she wouldn’t make it back on her own. She had always returned long before them in the past.
They rushed back out with lanterns to search for her, concerned about why she hadn’t returned. Jason had been the one to find her. She was further in the woods but caught on the thicket. Her hair had fallen down and her dress was torn. Tear streaks went down her face making bright paths through the dirt that had covered it. It was bright in the light of his lantern. But no matter how cold and scared she may have been, she looked up at him with defiance.
“Here, let me help you,” he said as he approached her.
“I don’t need any help from you. I would hate to be a nuisance.”
Her voice wobbled a bit but her chin stuck out firmly. Jason remembered as they ditched her earlier they had laughed and he had said that very thing about her. He would never have said it to her but she had apparently heard him anyway. She pulled back and looked away from him but he just stepped closer and worked on detangling her from the snared branches.
The defiant look on her face when she refused to accept his help even though she was clearly unable to get herself free was the same look she was giving him now. Many of the others had treated him differently because he had been born low class. That was the day she changed. She never tried running after them again. She avoided them and hid in the gardens or stayed inside. He felt guilty every time he saw her look out longingly at the unexplored area before she went into the gardens alone. She looked every bit the young lady she was born to be now. But he suddenly felt as he had that day, as if he had wronged her.
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roses-and-grimoires · 9 months
Text
Prompt #1: Envoy
Characters: Keldrin
Tumblr media
The young duskwight holds his breath as he carefully opens the window, wincing a little at the telltale creak. This one didn't lock quite right, making it easy enough to get open--if one didn't mind risking a little noise.
Keldrin did, in fact, mind a bit of noise, but there was little to do about it now. As quickly as he dared, he reaches up and clambers onto the windowsill, then drops down into the room beyond.
It's dark, mostly; the only lights are the gentle red of a entertainment console set dormant and idle. A cheeky grin snakes over the teenager's face as he creeps around the sleek furniture that filled the sitting room with practiced ease; maybe he had gotten away with this after all...
And then the overhead light flicked on.
Shit.
Closing his eyes, he draws in a deep breath, then reopens them, affixing an appropriately innocent smile onto his face as he does so. The same smile is not shared by the two duskwights that look back at him; in fact, if he had to put an adjective to their expressions, it would be 'cross'.
"Mother, Father," he begins. "I wasn't aware that you were still up; it's very late, after all. In fact, I should probably be getting to bed--"
"Sneaking out again, Keldrin?"
He can't help but wince at those words, or rather, the way that they are said; his mother had mastered the art of communicating quiet disappointment, and, unfortunately for him, she was the one who was more immune to his fast talking.
"I--Look, I just wanted to go to the concert with everyone else, they aren't going to be back in the Capital for a year at least--"
"We know that, but it's a school night, son. And you've been neglecting your studies."
His gaze swings over towards his father as he speaks up. It's like looking into a mirror in some respects; he had inherited his mane of floofy white hair and dark skin from his father, though the bright blue of his eyes was definitely his mother's doing.
"And you know--" his father continues.
"'That I have to be an example'." Keldrin intones the words at the same time as his father, as if he knows them by heart. And considering the way that he rolls his eyes at them, he very well might.
"It's not fair though," he continues, folding his arms and continuing on before his parents have a chance to speak. "I'm a citizen as much as anyone else! Why should I have to work extra hard just to prove I belong here?" he demands, looking back and forth between the two.
"It's not fair, but that's how it is for us--" his mother starts, but Keldrin speaks up once more to interject.
"For you, maybe. But I was born here! They like me! Mostly." Once he had proven how good he was at getting into trouble, anyway. "But whatever. I'm going to bed."
A sigh leaves his mother's lips. "We'll talk about this in the morning," she says, or perhaps more accurately, warns.
"Yeah, fine," Keldrin mutters as he shoulders past the looks of concern and disappointment towards the stairs leading upstairs, towards the room whose walls were a collage of posters of motorbikes and rock bands, and where a guitar hung next to a bow.
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complete-in-ix · 6 months
Text
Statement 20233003 - The Tricky House
Rated: G
Warning(s): Unreality, Manipulation, Kidnapping, softcore psychological torture. Basically if the Tricky House mv was a TMA statement
Description: A sneak peek into the recorded archives of the KQ Foundation, dedicated to researching the paranormal.
(Read on Ao3)
[Click]
Minjae
Statement of Kim Gyuguk, regarding a suspected dokkaebi attack on his nightly commute from work on the Seoul Metro. Original statement given March 30, 2023. Audio recording by Kim Minjae, Apprentice Archivist of the KQ Foundation, South Korea. Statement begins.
Minjae (Statement)
I'm no stranger to the consequences of working overtime. The lost sleep, the sickly feeling that comes with eating too much too late at night, the amount of staggering that it takes to get back on my feet in the following days... Well, it's not like it can be helped. Business is business, and my boss would have my head if I didn't finish this project by tomorrow. I know I'm not young enough to keep shaking off these consequences for much longer, but at least the overtime pay can carry me over for now. Last night was no different than usual. 
I arrived at the office before the sun rose to get a head start on my work, but that still didn't prevent me from being unable to leave until well after it set. Thankfully I was still able to catch the last train home, and unsurprisingly it was empty. I couldn't help but notice as I sat down that the absence of other people seemed to highlight the amount of graffiti in the car that I had chosen. Teenagers these days have too much time on their hands, I suppose. At the time, I was really too tired to care and started to drift off the instant the train started to move. It was while I was nodding off that I noticed the train car wasn't as empty as I assumed it to be. 
There was a young man in the corner seat next to the door that connects the separate train cars together. Half his face was covered by a hat, but even then I could tell that he was quite handsome. His attitude seemed to leave much to be desired however, considering how he was sitting with one foot up on the seat next to him—then again, I'm sure all the young ladies that surely flock to leave love notes in his locker have no regard for that. Sometimes I worry for this generation. Well, whatever, I was much too tired to give him a scolding and he seemed to be minding his own business as well aside from giving me that look that all teenagers like to give adults, so I was content to stay in my seat until one of us reached our stop. He, however... Was not. 
I heard his footsteps coming toward me while my eyes were closed, stopping just in front of me. I really wasn't in the mood to entertain him, so I paid him no mind when it just seemed like he was standing there. I then heard a slight rustle of clothes, and then the headphones that he had been wearing were placed over my head. I braced myself for some screaming noise or nonsense, but it was actually quite pleasant. He hadn't been listening to anything, just some white noise at a low volume to drown out the noises of the train. I could have fallen asleep, until the very noise I had been expecting began to blast into my head! 
I stood up to confront him, but he just backed away with this... Cryptic grin on his face. In my headphones, I could hear something like "Let me show you around our mysterious Tricky House"... Whatever that means. The boy managed to lipsync to it perfectly without even hearing his own music. I would have grabbed his shoulder to ask what he meant, demand that he explain himself or apologize, but he just stepped through the door connecting our train car to the next one before I could even think to move. There were two other boys beyond that door, one who greeted this little troublemaker with an embrace that was quickly hidden from my view by the other boy stepping out to block me. 
He was dancing in my face, somehow lipsyncing along perfectly to the song blasting in my ears despite being unable to hear a word. The song was asking me to look around, to pick what was real... I didn't quite understand why he seemed to be following it along so closely until he threw out his hand and nearly struck me. I managed to avoid his arm by sidestepping him and turning around, but perhaps the motion was too fast for me to handle. No matter how I try to reason with my own memory, I clearly saw three wisps of blue flame fly out from this second boy's hand in the direction I was now facing. I could only watch as they fanned out in front of me and disappeared in a blinding flash. Where the flames were, there were three more boys standing in front of me, also dancing to the music that they surely couldn't hear. Then again, it was playing so loud in my own ears that it might have been leaking out of those headphones. The leader of this little squad asked me if I was "feeling their game", whatever that means. I'll never understand young people and their slang, but I do know that I did not want anything to do with this game! Then, I... 
I'm really not sure what exactly happened. I know I took a step towards them to push my way through and leave for the next car, only to find myself already in the next car down in the blink of an eye! When I regained my bearings, there was another little group in this gang of troublemakers blocking my path! There must have been four or five of them this time, one that I recognized as the second little trouble maker who threw the flames. He and the rest of this group were led by a foreigner, who asked me—well, I can't be sure if it even was his voice playing in my ears, but he lipsynced it very well—in perfect Korean if I was worried about losing. I wanted nothing to do with this game to begin with, so I took a step back to the car I'd started my ride in. 
Again, I found myself thrown backward to the car past it! Someone threw a hand over my shoulder from behind, then, and a voice in my ear—the same one playing in my headphones, though I have no idea how I was still able to hear it over the noise—welcoming me to their "playground". By this point I was quite stricken by motion sickness, so I didn't dare move again. The troublemakers did it for me, flashes of blue fire flying out from behind me and disappearing to reveal a boy with strikingly red hair in front of me. He said... He said many things to me, though it was so fast that I had trouble hearing any of it.
His companions appeared and disappeared in blinding flashes all around him and me, pushing me around and dazzling me until I started to feel much more than a little sick. I did my best to keep it down while these boys flashed and danced around me—despite how terribly mannered they were being, me throwing up on them would be much worse—but it eventually got to be too much, my stomach flickering with an unbearable heat until I was forced to retch. It was the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. Blue-hot flames ripped their way from my throat instead of bile that left a burning sensation behind like no other. I felt as if my entire torso were being emptied, and although I was already hungry as I stepped onto the train, my hunger was pulled out from me as well. Those flames had burned me numb. Even though I must have been under some kind of influence because of this gang—whether they had secretly drugged me or there was some kind of subliminal frequency imbedded in those headphones that I still hadn't taken off, that wasn't even the strangest part about this entire thing! 
No, what unsettles me the most is that after I had vomited up those flames, the movement... Seemed to make the entire train expand , somehow. I highly doubt one human who had spontaneously thrown up blue flames could ever be capable of that, but the timing of it all seemed to match up. The whole train car split down the middle and widened until it would have been impossible to fit inside the tunnel, though that didn't seem to impact it at all. The floor looked all the same, but where the door and walls had split there was only a sickening distortion like someone had stretched it with an editing software. The ceiling had gone through the most dramatic change, now opened up to reveal a mess of gears and machinery that shrieked and sparked against itself; all lit up in blue. The flames I spewed flashed into place in the center of it all, now taking the form of a whole gang of ten boys, all still dancing circles around me.
One boy gave an absolute roar of a rallying cry, and the entire train just... Exploded into a mass of scrap metal. I don't know how I managed to get out of it all unharmed. The oddest thing about it wasn't even my survival or how I was still moving as if I was still on the train even while it was falling apart around me; it was how the world outside looked. Instead of seeing a dark tunnel scattered with sparking metal, I just saw pure pitch black. It was like the world hadn't yet formed around me and consisted of only me and these hooligan boys.
The next thing that I remember is coming to in a shopping cart at my usual station. The weight of those headphones was gone, but my ears still buzzed with noise. My head did as well, I was operating as if through a dream. Before I could move to pull myself up from the cart it was seized from behind, and I was helpless to resist my being pushed all around the station. I at least still had my briefcase—I was clutching it for dear life at this point—while on my chaotic ride. I didn't even have to look behind me to know who was pushing me. I could hear their whooping and jeering echoing all along the station. I flew along the tunnels at a dizzying pace, the blue light of these creature-boys flashing around me all the while through. There was one pair that I noticed seemed to dance around each other quite a lot, colliding in the air before me and sending off showers of blue sparks. At one point I could have sworn that one exploded into a puff of flame shaped like a heart... Well. I certainly hope it wasn't directed towards me!
They pushed me clean through the gate to leave the station. I'm past questioning why I got out unharmed or how no one came running to investigate the noise of my cart crashing past. I just wanted to know where they were taking me. We zipped through the back roads, where no one could possibly witness this chaos. I remember trying to jump out on multiple occasions—often helped by the chaotic steering of whoever or whatever was pushing me—to no avail. Everything from here is a sort of blur. I remember faces; more young men laughing in my face and running circles around my prison in the cart. If they were still singing that song, I wouldn't be able to tell you… My whole mind was just a mess of noise. 
I vaguely remember coming to a stop at the arcade near my station. They tipped me out of the cart quite rudely—and directly into the closed door! I braced myself for impact, but… it never came. The door swung open just ahead of me before I could hit it and I instead collided with a short but solid body. This one said… Something along the lines of "Follow me" and dragged me into the arcade. It was all lit up as if it were the middle of the day; cabinets lighting up with noise and flashing in our wake. I was surrounded by the time we stopped. They had cornered me in front of a claw game full of stuffed animals, each of them cheering and begging me to win them one from their respective places at the other machines. 
"If you think for a second that I'd be willing to spend a penny for you rascals, you're sorely mistaken!" I scolded. They just laughed harder, all their voices overlapping until I could barely make out a word. The short one who had dragged me into the arcade raised a hand and they all stopped; he must be their leader. 
"Money won't be an issue, mister," he said, and then he pointed to the bag I still had clutched in my arms. "Look inside." 
I didn't trust any of these boys as far as I could throw them—and I'm not nearly as strong as I used to be—so I kept my eye on them all as I reached into my bag. I half suspected this was some kind of trick until my hand closed around an unfamiliar weight. 
"Go on, sir! Take it out and give your wallet a good whack!" The leader's eyes unsettled me as he spoke. They gleamed with a deep, bright blue light that didn't come from any of the arcade machines; it seemed to come from inside his body. The others' eyes shone too but it was more of a reflection; all their gazes trained on the leader whose stare pierced right through me. 
I was hesitant to follow his suggestion until I felt the heft of whatever they had put in my bag. It was dense and solid, vaguely long. Perhaps I could use it as a weapon if push came to shove. I took it out with the express intention of this only to find… A microphone. What was I supposed to do with that? Instead of the laughing and jeering that I expected, I was only met with stares of nearly tangible anticipation. 
"If you’re nervous about taking out your wallet in front of us, just hit your bag!” their leader said. I had half a mind to just scold these boys and leave until I just… Couldn't. There was something in the gleam of his eyes that held me still. I knew I had no choice but to obey, so I raised the microphone up and brought it down on my bag as if it were a drum. 
It immediately swelled to near bursting with coins; so quickly that I heard the seams creaking. I nearly dropped it in my surprise. The other boys roundly started cheering for me and resumed their pleading for their plushies—why they couldn't just steal them on their own was beyond me—and I had no choice but to turn around and start playing. 
“Showtime!” their leader cheered as I loaded the first few coins in. At this point I’m really not sure if I was fully in control of myself. I remember thinking “How can I keep letting them do this? I’m not even being threatened into this, I should just leave!” only for my legs to refuse to move. I must have been in that arcade for hours winning toy after toy for this gang—what a strange ransom to demand from strangers—until I finally had full control of myself again. 
I turned around to give them the scolding they all deserved only to be met with the leader pointing a gun from one of the point-and-shoot games directly into my head. He fired it with a “Pow!” and suddenly I was in an empty parking lot somewhere underground. Every plushie that I had given to those brats was now cradled in my arms and overflowed to the floor, but I really couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to that because of what was in front of me.
Blocking the exit to this garage were five mascot costumes that I vaguely recognized as life-size versions of the plushies in my hands. How they got there to block my exit was beyond me; I was more unsettled by their presence by anything. There had to be people inside for these costumes to be even standing; were they in league with this boy gang? I remember my bag having to be refilled by that microphone wand multiple times while I was in the arcade and it was still heavy with coins now; could this all have been a ploy to rob me?
I had no time to think of an answer before I just… Dropped everything in my arms and started dancing. It was like before; I didn’t feel in control of my body at all. I thought perhaps I could just be finally starting to snap under the sheer absurdity of my situation until I tried to resist my own movement. Something pulled tight around my arm and in the opposite direction of my resistance. It didn’t stop pulling even when I let my arm go slack again; I nearly thought this force was going to tear my arm off! Thankfully it just resumed dragging me around in that oddly intense dance that it initially puppeteered me into doing just a second later, and I was helpless to resist. Unfortunately my endurance isn’t nearly what it used to be; whatever was controlling me only seemed to be working on my movements and I found myself growing exhausted within moments. The mascots were upon me by then, all dancing around me and getting closer and closer with every move. Soon the proximity grew crushing, and I blacked out yet again.
The next time I came to was back in the shopping cart, and we were stopped in an alley where the back street racers park all their bikes. The boys were all dancing in a ring around me, chanting something. Once they noticed I had woken up, there was a great shouting and they all scattered. I tried to sit up only to be pushed back down by that first boy I had seen on the train. He spun me around to face an area of the wall that was still somehow blank of any graffiti and then disappeared from view. Another boy took his place with his fingers lit up in blue sparks… Which boy this was, I can't say, I was far too dizzy to make anything out. He signed the wall with a rather strange word… Perhaps it's a new slang that the kids have come up with; I think it was… xikers? Whatever that means. Another boy was covering my eyes before I could process it fully.
His face appeared before me only a split second later, lit up in all directions by a carnival. This unsettled me deeply; not only was it still far too cold for any carnivals here, I didn’t recognize this one at all! It was all… Off. I’m sure I’ve been someplace similar, but this wasn’t it; not exactly. My blood started to curdle as this boy was telling me that “We like it like”... something. I couldn’t quite hear him over the blaring of the rides. I remember being on one—a merry-go-round that was going far too fast for my liking—but I have no memory of getting on or off. I only remember my legs feeling like jelly as I held on for dear life. At this point the boys’ lighter and that booming music from when this night began was permanently ingrained into my head; I hear it even now, actually. It still rang in my ears even after I was transported off the ride—I really don’t know how I did it—back onto solid ground. The microphone was back in my hand instead of the merry-go-round pole; now extended on a short stand. 
I don’t remember what I wanted to do with it. I just know that the boys were trying to wrestle it from my grip and that they weren’t supposed to have it. Still, an entire ten against one is hardly a fair match, so I was struggling quite a bit. Amid their pushing each other for a hold and shouting words I can’t recall into the receiver, I managed to shake them off with a strong swing—directly into an ATM next to me.
Like my bag, it exploded with riches. Bills flew every which way and I’m not above admitting I tried to catch a few. The boys seemed to have no interest in them, just dancing around me and taunting me about how they like to play their game. I couldn’t help but notice the first boy from the train and the boy who received him when he switched with the second were staying awfully close throughout all this… Well, it’s none of my business. I was more preoccupied with the chaos around me to care; the lights in this carnival all started to go dark all at once amid the flurry from the ATM. It’s not like they turned off—no, they just changed. 
Yet again I found myself surrounded in a deep ultra blue while the carnival just melted away from around me. It was like I was in the train again being pushed through the entire train without feeling any of the movement; illuminated only by the blue wisps of fire that I had since come to understand were the boys who had chosen to terrorize me. Now that there was no background noise to torment me I could hear their words more clearly; something about a strange and beautiful dokkaebi house. I was beyond confusion at this point; the things that these boys had subjected me to throughout the night could be nothing else but the work of a trickster spirit. I would have honestly believed that they had gone extinct since modern times, however this clearly proved me wrong. 
It was then that I noticed my arms felt much lighter than before. I checked my bag in a panic; everything was there. The coins that it had been overflowing with at the arcade were the only things missing along with the microphone and its stand. I'll be honest, I was glad to have them gone. I only worried for what it was about to be used for in the hands of the dokkaebi boy in front of me.
"When the bat hits, what will it become?" he asked me, twirling it about in my face. I didn't have the slightest clue what "it" he could be referring to; I just hoped it wasn't me. I was then surrounded by echoing cheers of "Tell me what you want" and "tell me what you need". Were they asking me? All I wanted or needed was a way out of here, seriously… 
I must have said it out loud; for the boy then smiled at me and beat the microphone against the ground. 
In a puff of blue smoke, my tormentors disappeared and were replaced by a sleek, red Ferrari in front of me. My surroundings were pitch black; that car was the only thing remotely illuminated. Finally, my way out! At the time I didn't think to question why I was given such a gaudy ride out, nor did I wonder why I suddenly had the keys to such an expensive car just lying there in my pocket. In hindsight, I really should have. 
Once I opened the door, the chaos that I assumed had ended began again. I entered in blessed silence and just took a moment to breathe, to take in what I thought was my escape. I had grown so accustomed to the booming music that had been beating my ears since the train ride that I had almost forgotten what peace sounded like… I missed it. Perhaps if I had never turned the key, I could have just walked away and found my own way home. Unfortunately I was so tired that all I wanted to do was enjoy a comfortable ride home. 
The music blasted through the speakers as soon as the engine turned over. I was so startled that I stamped down on the gas instead of the brake; never mind that I hadn't even shifted the car into gear yet. That didn't seem to matter to it; the parking brake released and it slammed itself into gear without my hands even leaving the steering wheel. Speaking of the wheel I could hardly get a grip on it; any direction that I was able to pull it in was the result of all my strength and as a result had no real control whatsoever. On and on in furious circles I swerved until I was certain that I would be sick again—perhaps if I was any younger I would have found this fun, but as it is I've grown out of that phase quite thoroughly. It's a miracle that I didn't crash in all the darkness that still surrounded me. All I could see past the windshield was headlights glowing ahead of me—though I occasionally caught flashes of shapes in their beam before the car swerved away again. I did everything I could to stop; slamming the brakes, pulling up the emergency brake, even removing the key from the ignition; all to no avail. I got to the point where all I could do was beg and cry for someone to come stop me, for my captors to have mercy, anything! 
No such solace came.
The next thing I remember was waking up in an empty lot all the way across the city with a pounding headache, surrounded by burned-out tire marks and an entire supply closet's worth of brooms. I still had all my belongings—though my phone was long dead—and as far as I can tell my physical condition was fine save for some fatigue. They hadn't even taken any of my money; everything that had been spent at the arcade came from that mysterious magical microphone. Thankfully I was able to regain my bearings without too much struggle—this was near where I used to attend university—and I made my way straight to this place to give my statement. It's a wonder you lot are still open that late—or early—given how secluded your building is. Well, it's none of my business, I'm just glad I was able to give my statement. Surely the police would have me detained and tested for lunacy. I wouldn't blame them; even now I can still hear that song echoing in my mind… 
"Shanti, Shanti, ya-ya-ya, Shanti, ya-ya-ya," over and over again. Perhaps I should just get some rest.
Minjae
Statement ends. 
Well! It sounds like this Kim Gyuguk-ssi had a fun night! Honestly, I would be more inclined to chalk this up to a bad trip from some shady drugs that the boy on the train gave him that he's just in denial of—if it weren't for the corroborating evidence that Hunter was able to dig up for me. While digging through transit status updates for March 30th—last night, actually—he found a "strange disturbance" on the last train of the night. Security officers at the time reported what looked and sounded to be an explosion followed by a significant delay in the train's arrival, however when it did get to the final station it was perfectly intact—with no passengers. 
He also managed to get his hands on the security footage from that empty lot that Gyuguk-ssi woke up in. There was indeed an unexplained outage early this morning for nearly an hour, only for the cameras to come back on with a clear view of him lying unconscious in the middle of the lot; indeed surrounded by unexplained tire tracks and a large arrangement of old brooms scattered all around him.
During my own research—actually it was during my commute to work here—I did pass by the arcade that Gyuguk-ssi mentioned. The staff were gathered around having a heated discussion with each other; it turns out there was some kind of break in—even though there was no evidence of tampering—and one of their claw machines was stocked full of coins but no prizes. Those had all been found in a pile in the parking lot along with the mascots they use for children's parties. Seems like an awful coincidence…
Well, all the research that can be done on this subject has been done; Junmin suggested that we let Gyuguk-ssi get a little rest before we contact him again. All the better for me, maybe I can ask my boss to let me off early. Kim Hongjoong is no slouch, but he knows it's useless to hold people when there's no work to be finished. 
Maybe then my friends and I can welcome another guest to our house~
Recording ends.
[Click]
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sea-owl · 2 years
Text
Okay first one shot for the older Penelope Au posted on AO3. I do have it under the read more as well if you don’t want to go to AO3. 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43407499
Tell me if you heard this one before. A maid enters a brothel searching for a gentleman, well wait, that's not quite right.
A gently bred lady disguised as a maid enters a brothel looking for a gentleman.
"Ben get up!" Penelope hissed kicking her best friend.
Benedict groaned from where he laid. Groggily he squinted up at the red head. "Pen?"
"Yes, it is me you boorish man. Get up or I shall leave you for Anthony to find."
Benedict glared up from his spot on the floor. "You wouldn't dare."
"Would I not?" Penelope challenged; arms crossed.
"I am your dearest friend!" Benedict argued as he sat up.
Penelope smirked. "That is why I found you before Anthony did. Now get dressed. Your mother’s masquerade is tonight, and you are nowhere near ready."
Benedict groaned but proceeded to look for his shirt. "What are you doing this part of town anyway?"
"In part looking for you."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, but neither of them asked nor offered the information of the other reason Penelope was near the brothels. Five minutes later the pair loaded up into the hired hack that was waiting for them. Once safely tucked into the hack Penelope began taking parts of her maid's uniform off such as the ruffled neckline. Then adding a jacket to have the dress appear more one a lady would wear.
"Quite the scandalous scene you're making Ms. Featherington," Benedict smirked. "Undressing in front of a gentleman."
Penelope rolled her eyes and then tossed a small bag of coins at Benedict. "We've known one another since we were both in leading strings Benedict, propriety left screaming years ago. Besides if we are counting scandals your family currently holds the record."
Benedict snickered, until he weighed the pouch in his hand again. "This feels heavier than normal."
Penelope shrugged. "Consider it a bonus for being my longest employee."
Benedict pretended to look touched. "What an honor my dear lady."
They managed to get back to Mayfair without being seen. Now they had to sneak Benedict back into Bridgerton House without Anthony taking notice. 
“Benedict Bridgerton where have you been?” 
Well shit, Anthony never waited at the door before. 
Benedict was distracted. 
“Ben are you okay?” Penelope asked. 
Benedict blinked out of whatever daze he was in before turning back towards her. “Yes, I am perfectly normal.” 
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you’ve nearly stepped on my toes three times since the dance started.” Penelope quickly moved her foot back from Benedict’s oncoming boot. “Make that four.”
Benedict looked away guility. “I am sorry Pen.” 
“What has you so distracted?” Penelope, finally able to look in the direction that had held her best friend’s gaze. 
Oh. Well the lady in silver is quite beautiful. 
“Ben,” Penelope said, her voice teasing. “Do you happen to fancy her?” 
“What Pen . . .I-”
Oh, Benedict was tongue tied, just like a schoolboy with his first crush. It was adorable. Penelope led their dance off the floor. Ending it by shoving Benedict in the direction of the lady in silver. “Go talk to her, or I will tell Anthony where I found you this morning.” 
Benedict didn’t need much more encouragement before he took off. 
“Did my brother really just leave you here alone for the wolves?” 
“Colin?" Penelope did a double take. "My how've you have grown during your travels! What a fine young man you've become."
She starts to reach up to ruffle his hair, just like she used to do when he was still shorter than her and gripped her skirts for her attention. Colin bends down a little, leaning into her touch ever so slightly.
He looks down at her other hand, her left hand. No ring. So, his rake of a brother had still not proposed yet. Why was he keeping Penelope waiting for so long?
"It's good to see you again Pen," Colin greeted her. "I just got back actually.”
"Just in time for the masquerade," Penelope teased. "What a devoted son.”
"Anything for mother" Colin said, leading Penelope’s arm through his as they began to take a walk around the room. If he sounded a little desperate to have Penelope's attention on him even for just a moment longer, well she didn't need to know that. "How have you been?"
Penelope nodded. "I have been well. Well other than Benedict practically dragging me all over London to save him from Anthony’s wrath” Penelope giggled. "And since I'm officially a spinster-"
Colin stopped walking. "Pen! You've been declared a spinster? But you're only five and twenty!"
Penelope shrugged, like she's resigned to this fact. "I've never had suitors; everyone knows I'd be a spinster in the end. Why delay in declaring it?” 
Everyone believes you are waiting on Benedict to finally mature. We all thought the two of you had an understanding. 
Colin wanted to punch his brother, especially after seeing Penelope watch his ungrateful self dance with another woman. 
“If it doesn’t trouble you Pen, would you honor me with a dance later this evening?” Colin asked her. 
“Of course, Colin,” Penelope said, holding out her dance card. 
Colin looked down at her card, only one other name was on in, Benedict’s. Good, that means Colin has no competition and can take as many dances as he pleases. Colin quickly signed his name off on three, one of the dances being a waltz. 
“I shall you find when the next dance starts,” Colin promised before taking off to find Anthony. 
Colin had to find Anthony.
How dare Benedict allow the ton to declare Penelope a spinster! What was he waiting for? He's finished university, is talented enough with his art that he could make a living off it, and he knows there is a piece of property that is practically Benedicts out in the country. Is he that much of a rake that he'll let Penelope suffer?
He doesn't deserve her! She has waited years for him, and this is the thanks she gets?
Luckily Colin managed to find Anthony just as he was finising up a conversation with their mother.
“Anthony!”  
"Colin-"
"Come next season I am participating in the marriage mart."
Benedict had his chance, now it's Colin's turn to court Penelope. But first he needs to plan. 
Benedict pulled Penelope aside after the ball. “Pen I’m in love! You must write in Whistledown that I wish to find my lady in silver.”
“Benedict, what the fuck?”  
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nuttytani · 5 months
Text
Celestia's Cruel Thesis
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli
Premise: Childe gets isekai'd to a Liyue where Rex Lapis still rules over it.
chapter 1 link
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Chapter 2: It’s Childe not child
The Milleliths around the area made sure that Childe had completely left the premises of Yiyan Temple before they finally relaxed and stopped tracking him sneakily. There were many curious and shocked eyes on him as he walked down the stairs. He could even hear some giggles and stunned gasps. Though Childe appeared to be unaffected from being literally dragged out of the temple, he was in fact, quite angry. Sure, he was hurt as well but mostly angry. He didn’t ask to be thrown into this strange Liyue. He didn’t want to seek help from the gods nor archons, particularly not from the very archon he considered a close friend, whom he was eventually betrayed and deceived by. Childe knows it’s not the same person, yet he can’t help but feel–
“Young man, would you care for some tea?” said a warm raspy voice.
Startled to hear someone speak right behind him, Childe turned around to see a familiar face; Madame Ping. In all her grey-haired glory, warm dark eyes and her signature sweet smile. He wondered how she could sneak up on him without being noticed. Perhaps he was too deep in his thoughts. 
“You look like you could use something warm, my dear, come, sit down with me.”
Childe started, “Oh… I’m not sure if I–”
She slipped a warm teacup between Childe's hands, anyway. “My granddaughter purchased a new moli cha. It would be a waste to drink it alone, you see. And besides! It’s the perfect scenery to indulge in some hot tea and good company.”
He simply blinked at the cup between his hands. Indeed, the sky before them was breathtaking. Liyue was known for its sunsets and ruins. Plenty of tourists would line up at the docks and Yujing terrace to have a look at the so-called “golden hour moment”. As for the latter… more famous amongst historians and treasure hunters, and sometimes his fellow fatui. But, nevermind all that, he did not know that Madam Ping had a granddaughter, at least not from his intel back in the other Liyue. 
As if able to hear his thoughts, Madam Ping’s shoulders shook as she chuckled, her dark eyes glinting behind those round spectacles, “yes, I have a granddaughter. Wouldn’t it be strange not to? I’m already so old! She was but a tiny sapling few years back and now she’s all grown up. Time passes quickly, don’t you think so?”
Childe took a sip from his cup and replied, “it really does, sometimes you wish it would stop.”
“Indeed, but nothing is eternal, except for change. Even stone erodes and dissolves bit by bit, no one can stop it, not even the gods.”
Childe chugged the rest of the hot tea down his throat. “Thank you, Madame Ping, for the tea. But I’m afraid that I must take my leave now.” 
He’s got some house hunting to do, it’s been half a month, and he still sleeps on the steps of Heyu teahouse, and Master Liu Siu is gracious enough to not say anything. The man even feeds him free food day and night. It doesn’t feel great taking advantage of him like that, but unfortunately, no one dares to give him a place to rent. Not even the famous Baiju Guesthouse would allow him in, something-something looking like a low class qigai… He doesn’t even look that terrible. He looks just fine, normal. Maybe normal is weird for the people in this Liyue. Who knows, he’ll never know. 
Madame Ping placed a hand on his arm, stopping Childe.
“Dear, do you really have somewhere to be? Now, I have eyes and ears, don’t think I didn’t see you practically get thrown out of Dijun’s temple and see you sulking in the corner?” She flashed him a toothy smile. “Why don’t you give this poor old po-po some company instead...” 
To disguise the growing flush on his cheeks and ears, Childe coughed into his fist, “well… I suppose I can stay longer, thank you for the tea, Madam Ping. This is some good stuff, your granddaughter has excellent taste.” 
“Please, you may call me Ping po-po or granny. Madame sounds too stiff!” 
“Alright, granny, I’m Childe.”
“As in a kid?…. Hmm… how about haizi, you don’t mind that do you?” 
“Uhh…”
Before he could even turn her down, Madame Ping smiled her toothy grin again and resumed, “so, my xiao haizi, have some more tea while it’s hot.” The elderly lady extended her hand that grasped around the handle of the teapot, which had the painting of a white glaze lily on its deep blue surface. 
Madame Ping was, in fact, a good conversation partner. He didn’t even realise how quickly time passed until it was already dark. She was also very fond of her granddaughter, who was actually the famous legal adviser, Yanfei. Who knew? Not him at least. They didn’t really resemble each other, but he would not think too much about that. The old lady was also kind… perhaps too kind since she was extremely insistent about him staying at her place. It shocked her to know that Childe had been sleeping on the streets for the past two weeks (“Granny it was on the stairs–” “Same difference”). 
“Why didn’t you tell me before!…This won’t do at all… Let this po-po give you a place to stay.” 
He opened his mouth only to get interrupted.
“I will not take no as an answer. I insist!”
And that was that. Her words were final and set in stone, as the Liyuens like to say. 
He was incredibly skeptical, however, when he was met with the same teapot that she poured tea out of. The same teapot with a beautiful white glaze lily painted on. 
“This is your house?” Childe asked.
“Correct,” Granny replied.
“And I’m supposed to go inside this?” he asked again, just to be sure.
“Yes, come on now, I didn’t pin you for the shy type.” She raised her brow at him.
Childe wasn’t sure if Granny Ping was making fun of him or this was actually real. Perhaps anything is possible in Liyue. He heard about worldscapes or mirages that were built by witches in Mondstadt. Maybe a house inside of a teapot isn’t that far fetched. 
“Before I go inside… your house? Are you sure you want to let in–” Childe points to himself, “a stranger called a low class qigai by basically everyone.”
Granny Ping frowned at his choice of words.
“My dear, you are anything but that. I’m an excellent judge of character, and all I see is a troubled grandchild of mine trying to find a place to stay,” she paused and looked at him from head to toe, “and someone who needs proper clothes.”
Ouch.
Madame Ping instructed him to touch the teapot, and he did as told. Before he knew it, white mist surrounded him, he felt dizzy and a bit light as if his feet were in the air. Childe opened his eyes once he felt stable enough and could feel his feet touching something solid. He was standing on a grassy field with a bright blue sky and a classic Liyuen mansion in front of him. 
Adeptal magic can be really scary with all the things it’s capable of doing. 
“No need to look so speechless, my dear.” 
.
Now that Childe has a place to stay and absolutely no idea what to do, he keeps doing what every person who has too much time on their hand does. 
Lay on their bed and contemplate life. 
He’s unemployed and has no proper place of his own. Granny Ping was kind enough to let him stay at her house–teapot…her abode. But for how long? He can’t take advantage of every old person in Liyue. First, it was Master Liu Siu and now Granny Ping. If his coworkers were here, they’d be laughing at how low he fell. 
And fall he did.
To another universe.
So hard. 
He doesn’t know how to stand up from that fall, how to recover from it, where to start nor what to do. He’s completely clueless. 
Childe is (or should he say was?) her majesty’s vanguard. A warrior. A sword. Now that he is no longer hers, he’s left alone with no purpose, his fate is to become a dull and rusted weapon.
Once again, he regrets being nonchalant about superstitions. He’s never going to take lightly about any elderly’s words from now on. 
“Tsk…Should have checked that damned hourglass for traps. Speaking of which…” Childe jumped up from his bed and rummaged through his dark satchel. 
He still had one bag of mora, a heavy bag, in fact. Some knick knacks like dirty bamboo sticks from the tigerfish he ate, a pair of spoon and fork, a dagger like knife, his grey uniform and voila! The hourglass. 
It was quite the delicate looking thing with a golden frame. But the sand inside it was still. He flipped it yet the sand was stuck. It wouldn’t flow. He flipped it twice or thrice. Yet nothing happened. The hourglass stopped working. Possibly because of the humidity in Liyue, but it was working fine when he first received it. 
With a sigh, he carelessly tossed it onto the bed. But the hourglass seemed to have a mind of its own, rolling faster than ever down the bed and before Childe could even catch it, he watched the oh so delicate looking thing fall down to inevitably shatter– 
It was safe and sound, clinking as it rolled slowly towards his feet.
He picked the hourglass and stared at it. How did it not shatter from the impact? It was strange, the bed’s height was around his waist, and anything made of delicate material such as glass or ceramic would have shattered. 
There was a knock on the door and Childe’s thoughts came to a halt. 
“My dear, care to have dinner with me?” Madam Ping said from behind the door.
Quickly he placed the hourglass on a nearby table. “Of course! Just a moment,” he replied and quickly wiped his hands on his pants and roughly fixed his hair. Opening the door to see Granny Ping standing outside with a smile. 
.
Days passed, but it felt as if months and years went by. Childe grew more anxious and aimless by the day. He mostly stayed in Madame Ping’s abode, helping her around the place with cleaning, cooking and laundry. Sometimes fixing up the furniture, which she said he didn’t need to, the house could do self repair, thanks to the teapot spirit called tubby who guarded the mansion. 
His days were pretty domestic. It felt like he was back home, spending time with his younger siblings. Except, there was this constant voice in his head that would not stay quiet. Reminding him every minute, every hour of the day that he was taking advantage of a poor old lady, that he was stuck in this strange Liyue, and he was as useless as a broken sword. Those haughty-taughty Liyuen nobles weren’t wrong, maybe he is a qigai. 
Madame Ping likely noticed his restlessness and on one of the days, sat him down with a cup of tea. It worked wonders honestly. Today's pick was juhua cha. According to her, it was good for sleep and to ease nervousness. Either the old lady was extremely perceptive or he had less than stellar control over his emotions than he initially thought. If it was the latter, then he partially blames it on Granny Ping’s warm presence.
“Xiao haizi, sometimes I see you staring off mindlessly and other times I see you pacing around back and forth. This old one is good at listening, if you want to share your troubles.” Granny Ping picked up a sunflower seed from the plate filled with a variety of nuts: melon seeds, sunflower seeds, dried fruits, raisins, peanuts and many more.
Childe let out a troubled laugh, “am I that obvious?”
“I may have glasses on but that doesn’t mean I’m blind, my dear.”
Guess he can’t keep avoiding the perceptiveness of an old lady. 
“I’m afraid those are the rules, haizi.” 
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did. Don’t be so dumbfounded now, it’s becoming a permanent face of yours these days.”
“And you’ve been getting sassier by the day.”
“Oh, hush now! Don’t chug the tea! Have some snacks with it too.”
.
Later, Childe signed the recruitment form for the Adventurer’s Guild (suggested by Granny Ping because of course she had her 2 mora worth of thoughts to say after his spiel of “I’m taking advantage of you”) and they were happy to provide him with the handbook and a few beginner’s commissions. 
What’s funny to him is that…The fatui appeared in the “enemy” section of the handbook. Knowing that the Adventurer’s Guild main branch was in Snezhnaya, he wondered how the Mayor overlooked this.
He briefly went over his commissions and was supposed to: 1) clear out a few hilichurls groups 2) kill a ruin guard that was terrorising a nearby farm 3) Grab some bamboo shoots and… 4) a cooking commission. Nothing challenging, nevertheless, he had something to do other than laying in bed. 
First, he started off with the ruin guard, which was in fact a ruin hunter–whoever gave the commission had potatoes for eyes because ruin hunters differ greatly from ruin guards. One shot to its eye and the automaton came crashing down. He could do this with his eyes closed. 
The A-yi living nearby the farm seemed thankful for its disappearance and gave him a few pieces of zongzi. 
Next were the hilichurl groups, they were also decimated within minutes. Childe had to make a run to Qingce village though, to grab some bamboo shoots, which he assumed was part of the cooking commission since it came from the same place. He got back into Liyue harbour before it was too late and dropped the bundle of bamboo shoots to Wanmin restaurant. Chef Mao, who also thanked him by giving some free food, greeted him. 
“I’m wondering if giving out food to strangers is a common practice in Liyue,” Childe asked while eating his chicken skewer. 
Chef Mao quirked his brow. “Consider it something we do out of love, and maybe it’s also because you need some more meat on your arms, young lad,” he paused before yelling, “AIYAH! Xiangling, my child! What is that terrible smell?”
Pots and pans clattered and a faint “am okay!” could be heard from the kitchen. 
“This daughter of mine…” 
Xiangling, the troublemaker, the title given by her father, rushed out of the kitchen with her trusty partner in crime, Guoba. Noticing his presence, the little fellow gave him an enthusiastic wave. To which the little guy received an aggressive pat on the head by Childe. It was hard to resist the urge, Guoba was too adorable and he always wanted to pat the little guy’s head. It looked so soft and fluffy!
“Ehem, are you here for the cooking commission?” Xiangling looked at him with sparkling eyes, so bright that he could turn blind just by looking at them for too long. 
“Yep, here’s the list if you want to be sure.”
“Perfect! I’ve got just the thing for you.”
I don’t like the sound of that. 
The cooking commission…wasn’t cooking. They needed someone to be a guinea pig for Xiangling’s new recipes. Now, Childe was not some fresh meat, unaware of the young girl’s questionable choice of ingredients. He’s been through it many times. Like when he would go for a quick lunch after work from Northland Bank or a friendly dinner together with Zhongli. Xiangling would always sneak in a few work-in-progress recipes in his order. 
Here’s the thing, he’d eat all those slime condensate spicy stir fry… a thousand times over vishap horns ground to powder and used as a topping on his golden shrimp balls. 
“Hey now, it’s not that bad,” the young chef frowned, her sparkly eyes turning watery as Guoba, her trusty partner, patted her on the back. 
Meanwhile, Childe was too busy keeping a few bites of Xiangling’s food down his throat. 
At least he earned some more freebie food from Chef Mao, who felt apologetic for his daughter’s antics. 
.
“Oh there you are, boy! Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Master Liu Siu fusses over him and pushes one steaming basket into his hands. 
“Freshly made crystal shrimp, eat them. You look like you haven’t had a bite of food. Tsk-tsk,” the old man clucked his tongue and put on a hard face. “All of us were terribly worried, you na~ xiaozi. Worried sick wondering whether you dropped dead on some street or got robbed by some thugs. At least you could have dropped by to say hello!” 
Childe opened his mouth–
“Gone for days! The entire teahouse grew grey hairs from the stress! We didn’t know your name nor your whereabouts!”
Then he closed his mouth–
“At least say something, boy. You look like a carp, opening and closing that mouth of yours,” Master Liu Siu sighed dramatically, and if he didn’t know any better, there’d be a few wrinkles forming on his forehead alongside some grey hairs.
“Aiyah, he’ll talk if you let him speak first, you big old fool,” an elderly man said from the back before standing up from his seat. “Don’t mind him, he just misses his old cat, Huo. A stray, like you. Actually, you look a bit like him.”
“Do not bring Huo into this,” Master Liu Siu huffed, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket but was completely ignored by the old man.
He slowly walked towards Childe with his arms behind the back and continued to speak, “I’ve heard that Ping has been taking care of you, hmm what was it she calls you?”
“It’s Childe… Mister?”
“Ah child yes! Haizi.”
“That’s not–”
He was interrupted, again. This was starting to become a trend here in Liyue. “Well, I don’t blame you for not recognising me. Who cares for old men? I’m Fan Er’ye, the owner of this teahouse.”
“Again, Sir, It’s Childe—”
“Yes, yes, child-not-child. Drop by here once in a while, or Liu Siu will go mad from worrying, he loves picking up some strays, you see.” 
Alright that’s it. I give up.
Right then, many pairs of heavy footsteps advanced rapidly up the stairs of the teahouse. A handful of Milleliths surrounded the area and blocked entry. They crowded around Childe. 
One of the Milleliths spoke up, “Sir Fan Er’ye, we request you to step away from the foreigner.” He took a scroll out of his breast pocket and flicked it open in front of Childe.
“You, named child, are under arrest for violating the laws of Liyue and Teyvat, for the production and distribution of counterfeit mora.”
The entire teahouse gasped collectively, the lively atmosphere abruptly turned into a grim one. Most of the customers were too stunned to say or do anything other than look at Childe with utter shock. Most likely they were all clucking their tongues and staring at him with judgement filled eyes. 
“Follow us quietly or you shall be forcefully taken to the Qixing.” 
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First off, shout out to my fav jiejie again for helping with the cn part of this fic. I swear yall have no idea how I spam her dms day and night. Love her so much <3. And for some reason whenever I tried to take this fic in a serious direction, it ended up turning into comedy– HELP. I also tried (keyword tried) to do linking footnotes but… I can’t… too troublesome.
[1] Moli cha - jasmine tea. A friend suggested it, since they hc that Madame Ping has a similar personality to Iroh (from ATLA) and he drinks a lot of jasmine tea. Anyways, I was searching up how it is prepared but it was too complicated for me to understand and gave up. I’m sorry TT
[2] Po-po - granny / grandmother.
[3] Qigai - beggar
[4] Haizi - kid / child.
[5] Xiao - small or little in this context (the word on its own)
[6] Juhua cha - chrysanthemum tea
[7] Zongzi - glutinous rice with different fillings and is wrapped in bamboo leaves.
[8]Na xaiozi - It basically means brat or rascal affectionately. You’ll see it being used a lot in dramas. I was suggested by my jiejie to put them together as it'll look less strange for English speakers buuuut it makes it sound a little weird in the sentence altogether, so another friend suggested to actually separate them!
[9] Huo - fire
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scenetocause · 2 years
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my austrian grand prix highlight is maxf sounding like he's actually about to come when lando overtook four cars
Omg imagine. That is such a good idea for an oneshot. Max actually coming but masking it somehow. Someone sends Lando the link and he immediately knows and teases him a bit and when they meet up the next time fucks him so good
oh, go on then
Lando is a menace. Max knows this, all the time but right now he's the reason Max is shuffling around like he can't get comfy in his chair, only half-paying attention to what Isaac's telling him over Discord.
Why on earth Lando was half-naked 30 minutes before a grand prix, let alone sending Max photos of it, is probably Jon's problem to worry about. Except that it's Max's boner it's prompted and now he's got no chance of sneaking off for a wank.
It feels like it's been ages, which is really hasn't except that Lando was busy over the British Grand Prix, inevitably, so Max had to wait until the Monday for all-too-brief, if amazing, post-golf sex and he's a young man with needs. Like wanting to pin Lando down and bite the hard nipples he'd been showing off in the selfie he sent Max fifteen minutes before he had to go live.
He almost considers shuffling off to really quickly get himself off and pretend he's ...doing something else, somehow but he can't think straight enough to come up with an excuse, just scoots forward until his crotch is out of shot, palms himself through his shorts a few times to take the edge off.
Inevitably, it does no such thing. Max tries to get into his usual sprawl, comfy for streaming but he can't really sit still, has to channel into making it look like he's way more actively into the grand prix than usual.
To be fair, it's a pretty exciting one and Lando's in with some good chances. His papaya man, the one who's coming home to him later for some spooning and blow jobs, the one who takes care of Max, lets Max take care of him. His annoying little goblin.
Max knows it's fucking weird, the way they love each other but also even now, when nothing in his life is certain, he's sure about this. About how much he can't wait for Lando to be a horrible bitch for twenty five minutes solid, complain about everything, then lovingly press Max into the mattress and take him apart in the best way possible. For him to kiss all the places on Max's body - his inner thighs, the curve of his biceps, the spot just behind his ears - that only Lando does. For Max to get his tongue in Lando's mouth, run it over all the words in there, as sharp as his teeth.
He might - might - have lost himself a bit in his own head, for a minute, letting PieFace carry on nattering and only throwing in the odd affirmation. Because suddenly Lando's setting up the most insane overtake, like something out of GP2 and Max's breathing has turned extremely shallow.
He scoots forward again, presses himself against the leg of the desk because fuck. It's incredibly hot when his boyfriend does the kind of racing Max knows he's capable of. No one's better than Lando, it's why Max is ok with thinking he isn't, either and in that dogshit McLaren, with an engine that's done about a million kilometres already, he's going to fucking overtake three people at once.
Max doesn't want to trust himself with saying anything, knows he sounds breathless and whiny and that the only thing coming out of his mouth is Lando's name and nonsense. And he really isn't quite expecting it, when Lando makes the move on Magnussen to make it four cars but sitting up jolts his dick against the desk just enough and he has to pretend to be coughing for a second.
This is, he has to admit, extremely embarrassing. Even at the same time as he knows he's glowing and grinning. Fuck, Lando's so sexy, sometimes.
"I nearly hyperventilated? Yeah, chat. That was a proper move, go on Bob." It's not like they'll ever know. He's a good little cam boy really.
-----
Mate Did you actually come on stream???? Max does not want to know how Lando's found that already. Don't call me mate, you fucker It's your fault for being stupid and sexy on track like that The reply is way too fast and excited, takes Lando a few goes to form some coherent words.
Ohymhgod Max?????? What the fuck God I rally want you right now
Max wants him too. He's changed, had a shower to get rid of the shameful evidence of sitting for half a grand prix with spunk in his boxers, so now he's just sitting in soft sweatpants and a hoodie, sprawled on his bed. Lando'll be there soon and then they can - god, it's shameful how much Max wants Lando inside him
But seriously you came on stream
There's no real way to respond to that so Max doesn't, watches the dots going back and forth that say Lando's typing.
you fucking came because I overtook Kevin I can't believe this You better of been thinking of me not him
Max texts back 'obviously you' - like he'd come in his pants over Kevin Magnussen, for god's sake.
Lando types and then deletes and then types and Max can tell this is going to be something he shouldn't find sexy but inevitably will.
I want to fuck you in your streaming chair So you think about me
God that's high risk on any number of levels and Max is suddenly really hard. One good thing is that his streaming room's safely away from everyone else in the house, justified in case he's on really late but that'd work pretty conveniently for this, too.
Aww Do you watch my streams just to look at me?
Lando sends back the eye-rolling emoji and 'obviously' and Max kinda knows because Lando is always asking him for photos, always wants to see Max but it's nice to hear him say it, too.
He lies on his back, staring at nothing really, for the rest of the time until Lando arrives. Max needs to stop letting himself fall into inactivity but this doesn't feel like that, he's just chilling before Lando arrives, letting himself think about how much he wants Lando there, how waking up with Lando's arms around him tomorrow morning will feel so much better than any other week. How Lando will call him 'baby' while they're fucking and Max will love it.
Max lets Lando in by the back door, taxi already pulling away and it's not like his parents don't know about them, haven't been fully aware of it possibly longer than Max and Lando were but it feels safer, more hidden, kissing in the dark hallway. Lando threads his fingers through Max's hair, sighs and leans his full weight on him, letting Max hold him.
"Missed you, Bob," Max kisses Lando's hair, cheek, temple. They're allowed to be soppy with each other when no one can see. "It's gonna be good to sleep next to you tonight."
Lando squeezes him in reply, somehow makes himself even heavier on Max. But the spell's somehow been broken, too and Max knows there's some gremlin energy about to come out.
"So can I fuck you on your streaming chair?"
Max mutters something about 'gross' but also presses his hips up against Lando's leg, lets him know he's hard already.
They abandon Lando's suitcase in the hallway because he'll just steal Max's clothes anyway, make more noise giggling about the way they're sneaking around than they would have if they'd just walked normally, before Max manages to click the streaming room door shut and Lando's already sprawling in the chair.
"Oi," he says, bending down to kiss, both hands on the back of the chair. "Thought you said you wanted to fuck me in this."
"Mmm," Lando hums it into his mouth. "I want you like this," he pulls Max down on his lap, straddling one thigh. "And you can tell me how you got so horny about my driving that you came on stream."
Max's brain is slightly jumbled for a few seconds, has to resort to distracting Lando with kissing. When he's worked out what he's gonna do, he grinds down on his thigh for a second, feels Lando hard against his own leg.
"Yeah? You started it, sending me that selfie."
Lando grins, one of his borderline-malicious ones that's only saved by how genuinely happy he is to have made Max horny. "Oh yeah? I knew you'd like that, you're obsessed."
Max pushes his shirt up, thumbs one nipple and watches Lando immediately lose the game they're playing. "You love it."
"Yeah, I do." Lando mumbles, shameless, stretching his arms up to get out of his shirt and let Max put his mouth all over his pecs, lick Lando's collar bone, drag his tongue up his neck.
Once he's given enough attention for Lando to be a squirming mess that's rubbing Max's own dick on his thigh so good, he tries speaking again.
"You've gotta give me more time before I go live, Bob. I nearly tried to sneak off first but Isaac had me on a call and I couldn't get away," Max nips at Lando's neck, when he throws his head back and moans, pushing his hips up and jostling Max. "You know we haven't had enough time for this, lately and it's summer, I'm fucking horny."
Lando smiles at that, grips his hands tight in Max's shirt. They got together in the summer, doing something pretty similar to what they are now, making each other come with clumsy kisses and sweaty hands. Max had held Lando for hours afterwards, both of them talking and excited that they had a whole new thing to do together.
"You're so hot," Lando's opened his eyes a bit, looking at Max through the slit of his crinkled, grinning expression. "Tell me more."
"So I'm sitting there with a hard-on, obviously, fucking trying to remember what we're supposed to be plugging or whatever and who I'm speaking to and you were - well, you were away on the formation lap, probably but then I guess I started thinking about us-" Lando pulls him closer, drags Max until he's straddling Lando properly and they're just fully humping each other.
"I couldn't wait for you to be home, to get you like this. Get you hard and get you off and then get you in my bed."
Lando moans brokenly, into Max's neck and Max presses a hand between them, gives Lando a palm to fuck into. "And then you started doing stupidly sexy shit like overtaking like that. You made me want it so bad Lando, it's so fucking hot when you show how good you are."
It's not like he doesn't know drivers are inclined to a praise kink but Max is still surprised quite how fast Lando goes over the edge, clearly worked up before they even touched. He shoves his hand into Max's sweatpants, in the aftermath and jerks him until he comes all over Lando's naked chest, smears it across his abs. Until they're just grinning at each other, not exactly sated but ready to move it to the bed for the next round.
Lando fucks him with Max bent forward on a pillow, propped and comfortable to just get railed and then Lando doesn't even pull out while they're spooning, just wraps his arms around Max.
It's a little bit disgusting, when they wake up in the morning without having done any clear-up but it's just them, so it doesn't matter. And Max would prefer to wake up with Lando pressed against his chest, snoring quietly, than any other way.
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starsarefire824 · 1 year
Text
I depressingly don’t have much in the way of work for Byler Week. So here’s a chapter from A Certain Slant of Light where Will sneaks his actor agenda into the boys’ movie night with a little Max and Lucas interaction thrown in the mix. :P
John Cusack- Byler Week Day 2: 80s Films
It’s the way her still slightly milky blue eyes flash brightly when he enters the room that makes Will’s heart flutter with excitement. The curtains are open and Max’s room has been recently mopped, making it smell clean and sterile, and there are flowers all around her, allowing Will to almost forget he’s in the hospital. Until he notices the floor where the stains wouldn’t come off and the wires that snake in an out of Max’s body and the unrelenting beep of the monitor in the corner. He tries to ignore them. Will beams at her shyly, shoving his hands in his pockets and standing next to the bed. She still has one cast on her right leg, but everything else has healed these past few months. Will’s unsure she’ll walk again. Lucas told him there’s a chance with intense physical therapy, but the injury to her spine and pelvis had been extensive. Her vision returned at least, even if they never returned to their original color; fully in one eye and partially in the other.
“Hey man,” Lucas greets him groggily as he stirs from a chair in the corner, sitting up quickly and glancing over at Max as if she might disappear at any moment. He settles back in the chair, more relaxed once he realizes she’s exactly where he left her.
“Hi,” Will says quietly, smiling at Lucas warmly and his gaze flitting back to Max. She smiles up at him, shy in a way he isn't used to. He thinks she must hate being stuck in a bed. “Hi,” she says, pulling the oxygen tube from her nose and taking a deep breath in.  
Max is paler than usual and her lips are cracked, her hair has lost its luster slightly, and there are dark purple circles under her eyes, but the spirit is bright in her blue-silver eyes and her mouth is pressed in a determined line. It feels strange, knowing what happened between them, to finally see her in person. Considering Lucas isn’t freaking out, he thinks that Max hasn’t said anything and maybe that’s for the best….for now anyway.
“How do you feel?” Will asks, pulling a small chair from the wall and sitting at her side, across from Lucas.
She smiles again and nods. “I feel okay.  A bit strange . Like I woke up from a dream I can’t quite remember.”
“Do you remember what happened to you?”
She hums. “Hmm, I remember bits and pieces. I remember Vecna finding me in my memory, I remember seeing El. I remember the vines strangling me and his eyes. But then it just goes dark. And then suddenly I was stuck—” she interrupts herself, glancing nervously over at Lucas, but then swallows, and brings her brows together, seemingly making up her mind to continue. “I was stuck….inside this memory, one that was so buried I never remembered it before.” Lucas perks up, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his hands over his mouth as he listens to Max.
“Like a repressed memory?” he asks.
“No, it was more like a memory from when I was so young, that it just was lost or something, you know? Like one of those flashing memories you have from when you were really little? The ones that are so vague you aren’t even sure they are real or made-up? It’s like that. Except this was even further back, like being a baby. But it wasn’t bad. It was warm and happy and I felt safe. I think that’s why I ended up there.”
Lucas’s brow creases as he thinks on it. “Vecna couldn’t find you there,” he states.
“I’m not sure anyone could find me there at first, but then El did....” Max replies. She shoots Will a pointed look, raising her eyebrows and silently gesturing to Lucas.
Will’s heart jumps in his chest, and he shakes his head at her quickly.  Not yet.  
“What?” Lucas asks, straightening his back and his eyes darting between the two of them with confusion.
“Nothing,” Will says quickly, smiling at him and scratching the back of his neck nervously, feeling like a complete asshole. Friends don't lie.
“Will? What’s going on?” Lucas presses.
“Nothing,” Max replies reassuringly, resting her hand over his. “I’m awake, and I’m getting the hell out of here tomorrow and I can tell you guys all more about it then okay? El’s planning a meeting.”
“A meeting?” Will questions, suddenly mortified.
“Yeah. She said it’s Code Red. Everyone has to be there. Nance, Robin, Steve, Jonathan, The Party. Everyone.”
“Did she say what it was about?” Lucas asks, squinting his eyes and his lip curling up, flashing white teeth in that funny way he does when he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Max’s eyes dart to Will before she smiles and says, “No, I don’t know. She just said it was important. I think it’s about Vecna.”
Lucas’s turns his mouth into a serious line, and he looks at Will with worry in his eyes. “This can’t be good,” he murmurs gravely.
“I know. But maybe El has a plan.” Max doesn't take her gaze off Will as she says, “Or maybe she’s figured out a way to beat him.”
Will blushes, sliding his hand down away from where he’s been gently rubbing her arm.
Suddenly, Max looks at them like she’s suddenly realized something. “Wait, where’s Mike? Everyone else has been here. Except for him.”
Will’s chest flutters with the mention of his name. Lucas rolls his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. He got suspended two weeks ago. I  finally got a hold of him last night on the radio. He said his dad is letting him out of the house later today so he can visit. He’s such an idiot. He beat the shit out of Troy the other day.”
Max’s eyes widen with shock, her mouth opening into a surprised smile. “Mike??! Beat the shit out of Troy?  Why the hell would he do that??”
Will’s cheeks burn. “It was because of me,” he murmurs, embarrassed.
“It wasn’t your fault, Will. Troy was being a total asshole from what Mike told me. But  honestly I don’t know what’s up with him. He’s being even more of a dick than usual recently.” Lucas pauses suddenly, resting his hand on Max’s wrist, his tone softening. “He did visit you though, while you were asleep. He’s not that much of an asshole.”
Max rolls her eyes, but one side of her mouth turns up with humor. “Well, I’m not sure what I was expecting when I woke up from a coma, but I’m glad to hear Mike’s still an idiot.” She looks at Will. “But at least he’s a loyal idiot.”
“Oh!” Lucas exclaims, making Will jump. “Also, El dumped his ass again.”
Max’s eyes grow round as saucers. “What! She didn’t tell me that!”
"Yeah ,” Lucas sputters in disbelief, his eyes widening exaggeratedly. “I think it’s for real this time.”
Max crosses her arms over her chest and huffs. “Why is he such a moron? I mean, I know I’m out of the loop, but they seemed fine when he went to Lenora.”
“Yeah—I have no idea. Mike got totally weird after California. I think it might have something to do with Eddie. He and Dustin were extra close with him.”
Max’s face falls and she bites her lip and swallows the emotion back. She’s only just learned about the state of things. “Yeah. I guess that could be it.”
“Okay –,” Will announces softly, suddenly feeling an immediate need to leave the room. He slides the candy bar he’d snuck up from the vending machine under Max's starched sheet to hide it from the nurses. “I guess…I’ll see you all tomorrow at your house. I really should get home. El’s expecting me back. She wanted to hang out.” His brows come together and he frowns, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes as it registers. “Which I’m realizing now probably has something to do with tomorrow,” he grumbles.
“Aah, it’ll be fine, Will,” Lucas says cheerily. “I’m sure whatever plan she’s thought up is a good one.”
Will stands up and gently puts the chair back against the wall. He smiles at Lucas, who looks extremely happy for the first time in forever. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agrees, avoiding the way Max is suddenly staring at him. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
Will makes his way out to the parking lot, trying to ignore his heart racing his chest. El wants a meeting.  With everyone. It’s all going to come out now, whatever is going on with him, and Will isn’t ready. No one besides El knows about what he saw, what he will do. He’s been avoiding this for weeks, acting like it wasn’t happening and it was easy to do that because he had Jamie and all the fucking issues with Mike.
And now Mike knows part of it. He’s already seen it . Will keeps thinking about how his mouth fell open into a pouty “o” and his wanting black eyes widening with shock as his light softened the harsh angles of his face. He was actually GLOWING!  In front of Mike. Because of Mike! Will’s mind can't stop incessantly fixating on Mike’s hands roaming over his back, his fingers gently gliding along his face and neck, his lips upon his, softer than he ever imagined and his kiss timid, but needy. And it doesn’t seem real.
It’s a scenario he only ever allowed his mind to wander towards when he was alone in his bed at night but now that it’s actually happened he can’t stop thinking about it; Mike’s hands on him and the way he responded when Will swiped his tongue across his bottom lip.
Will had been surprised by how nervous Mike looked, how he pulled away suddenly, his eyes round with the shock of all that had happened that day, all that had led them to that point, and his hands were shaky as they caressed Will’s cheek. He was so nervous,  and Will didn’t know what to do with it, his own thoughts racing. Maybe he was being too forward, trying to lift his shirt up, maybe Mike was just taking it all in, or  maybe  he realized it was a mistake?
Will couldn’t be sure, but then the light came, and struck away whatever might have happened in the basement as he sat atop that washer; one thousand little fantasies that Will could conjure up, all whisked away with the wind of the storm that raged outside, because Mike froze, staring at him like he had just lifted into the air.
Will still doesn’t even really know what exactly happened. Mike said he was glowing, but it didn’t feel like anything, he wasn’t aware it was happening, but he definitely saw the light, he definitely saw the way the room lit up in a soft glow and the specks of white shining in Mike’s black irises.
Will was so caught up in the moment: the feel of Mike between his legs, their kiss, his pulsating need, the emotion, as deep as Lover’s Lake, that swelled up in his chest like high tide on the beach. All of it was so unbearably overwhelming that there was nowhere for it to go.
Nothing could have prepared him for what transpired between them that day. It wasn't just the kiss, it was how Mike made him feel. It was how it confirmed that Will's love mattered. Yesterday, in the lake, on the beach, in Mike's basement, it was better than the million scattered daydreams he had lived in since he was thirteen. A million moments that played over and over in his head for years.
In the beginning, when he’d awoken for the first time, sheets sticky wet and a strangled groan startling him out of sleep, confusion and hot shame burned his cheeks. He tried to push the thoughts away, and after brooding over exactly what he had dreamed about, who he had dreamed about, then couldn’t look at Mike’s eyes the next day at school.
Of course Will had always known he’d been different, but somehow, which seems so stupid to him now, he hadn’t guessed that  that was what it was. It wasn’t until a little while later it became just a little bit clearer, like chipping away at a block of marble. It was when everyone started getting girlfriends and he felt like his friends were finding their own way and their own place to fit, finding girls that they loved and leaving him behind.  That Mike was leaving him.
But even then, that hot Summer when the Mindflayer’s monster stole Billy and he and Mike fought, Will had such a vague awareness of it, a fuzzy impression that his feelings for Mike were not what normal best friends felt for each other. It was the first time in his whole life that he thought his love for Mike might be wrong.
Then in ninth grade, he started noticing the older boys, who’s shoulders had filled out, he became aware of the fact that he couldn’t help but watch the way they moved in their jeans, or glimpse the fleeting flash of skin beneath their shirts when they lifted their arms. That was when it dawned on him, in an independent way from the way he felt about Mike. It hit him like a ton of bricks if he was being honest, that he didn’t look at girls the same way all his friends did, the same way anyone male he had ever met did. Sure, he thought some of the girls at school were pretty, or he liked the way they did their hair, or how their mouths were full and pink. He enjoyed hanging out with them, and could admire the way they looked in their clothes. He liked talking with them and being their friend. But he had never met a girl he wanted to kiss. He never met a girl he felt like he had to be next to all the time.
The person Will wanted to be next to was Mike. Mike was the person Will thought about in his dreams at night and he was the person Will wanted to  kiss . But Mike was a boy. He was his best friend?
And for a while, Will thought, it’s just a phase . Maybe his wires got crossed from all the tests they’d done on him in Hawkins Lab when he was thirteen. Maybe he was just feeling left out and discarded by his friends so his body was making up for it. But as time went on it never went away. He still watched the boys in gym class, not the girls. It was the men in all the romantic movies he looked at, not the women.
Will wanted to BE Molly Ringwald, not kiss her. When he watched all the romances it was John Bender and Zack Mayo he was looking at, not the leading ladies. He started to realize when he cuddled up on the couch with El and his mom watching all these romantic films they liked, that he silently oohed and aahed over the men just like they did out loud. Even though he never said it to anyone, he became aware of the fact that tall, dark, and handsome meant the same thing to him as it did to El and Joyce.
One night when they were sixteen, about a month before he left for California, the Party sat spread across the couches in Mike’s basement taking turns playing Nintendo and passing around a joint Dustin had procured from Steve. All three of his friends struck up a lively conversation about movies, interspersed with giggles and snorts, which inevitably led to debating over the actresses they found attractive: Phoebe Cates, Geena Davis, Demi Moore, Jennifer Beals. Each said their piece, fighting over who was right and who was wrong and eventually they looked towards him.
Will thinks it was their direct question, that abstract thing he’d always been internally aware of suddenly flooding over him with a terrifying clarity. He had to confront it head on in a moment where he was caught off guard. He had no prepared answer. Mike sat up from laying beside him on the couch to pass him the joint, his face squinting through the smoke as he held in a hit. Will took it from him and sank back into the rough sewn cushion and his mind went completely blank. Well not blank exactly. His friends sat there staring at him expectantly. Will tapped his foot in response, frustration bubbling up in his veins because the only person that came to mind was John Cusack.  John Cusack . John fucking Cusack. Or maybe Jeff Goldblum in The Fly with his long limbs and dark curly hair (that kind of resembled Mike’s).
So since he couldn’t open his mouth, Will raised his eyebrows at them, trying to hide his panic by taking a long hit. Too long of a hit for his own good. He waited so long to answer that Lucas had to prompt him. “Will?”  
Jesus it was embarrassing. His cheeks grew hot and when Will’s glanced nervously at Mike, his eyes flashed with a strange sense of terror, and Will knew he’d be no help. Mike nudged his thigh with his knuckles, urging him on just like he did at the Snow Ball in eighth grade. Will thought and thought and thought until finally his internal panic produced a coughed up, strangled, “Julia Roberts!” to which Lucas and Dustin laughed and hooted. “ Jesus , Will!” Dustin teased. “Had to think about that one, huh!”
At least they were laughing. Then suddenly, Will couldn’t contain the absolute absurdity of the entire conversation. His mind was racing with terror and his heart was beating in his chest and the couch was too rough and the wall was too orange and he was sure he could feel every hair on his head. And all he could think to say (which was true he might add.) was,“I'm serious!” his voice cracking mid-giggle, “I really like her hair.”
Well that made Lucas spit out his drink, and Mike looked at him like he was insane. Dustin paused and thought seriously for a second before replying, “I like her hair, too.”
That made Will snort, unable to contain the laughter that poured out of his chest. It was a close one, but he had done it. And so he laughed and laughed, laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe right along with Dustin. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and joyous tears caught on his eyelashes. Lucas slapped Dustin’s head so hard his hat fell off his head and landed in the pizza box. “You’re an idiot Dustin,” he scolded good-humoredly.
“DUDE!” he complained. “I just got that hat! Shit!” Mike, who was laughing, but otherwise had been unusually quiet after what Will had said, grabbed it for Dustin, and Will watched the long length of his back as he sat up. Mike threw it at Dustin’s chest, and plopped back down on the couch, his body heavy against Will as he did so, their shoulders overlapping, thighs pressed together. Mike looked over at him, but there wasn’t as much humor on his face as he originally thought. At the time Will didn’t know what to make of it. He bit his lip, his good humor sucked out of him as Mike’s dark gaze watched him. Will noticed his eyelashes and how his freckles were still darkened from the summer sun. He noticed how he suddenly couldn't think of anything but how the warm skin of Mike's thigh brushed against his.
“Alright, well what’s the next movie then? Juliaaa Robertss for Will?!” Lucas teased, startling Will and Mike from their staring. Will sucked in a breath and lifted his hips, nervous fingers tugging at his shorts from where they rode up.
“Mmmm,” Will hummed as he collected himself, thinking about the movies that he knew the Wheeler’s had on tape, still hyper aware Mike was still right there. “Maybe something else,” he suggested lightly. “What about Better Off Dead?” John Cusack , he thought happily. They’ll never know the difference.  
“Right on. I love that movie,” Dustin agreed, getting up to fetch it from the basket of VHS tapes underneath the table.
Will thinks of that strange little moment now, on his way home to El, and it is the first time he is able to make sense of Mike that day. There are endless tiny moments like that, just like the one million daydreams Will’s had, moments that would make his cheeks burn or his fingers tingle or his body shiver. Things that he thought only ever meant something to him. And now, he could look back over his whole life with Mike, and see that whether or not he was aware of it, that they had meant the same thing to Mike too. Maybe Will had made Mike's mouth go dry with nervousness, maybe he made his heart race, maybe Will had made Mike’s skin burn when he touched him. Maybe, just maybe, he really does feel the same way.
Will brushes his fingers over his lips as he daydreams, smiling into his hand and swearing he can still feel Mike there. Will has no idea what happened after he ran out into the rain yesterday, but he can’t imagine Nancy telling anyone about it. He hopes anyway.  Jonathan loves her, and Will can’t see him loving someone who would be nasty towards people like himself. But Will will get to see Mike tomorrow, at the meeting. His heart quickens just thinking about it. He has so much he wants to tell Mike. He has so much he wants to  show him. He thinks this will be good. El is right. He needs to stop hiding himself away from his friends. He needs to tell them the truth. And even if he can’t share  every  part of him that he wishes, at least he has Jamie, El, and now Mike that he can confide in for that. As for the rest of his friends, he’ll be able to share his light. And maybe they may just be the key to helping him figure out a way to use it for good. Will wants to be good. He wants to believe that the nightmares that haunt him every night aren’t true. They’ll be there for him. Right ? They accepted El for all that she is. He hopes they’ll be able to do the same for him. El is the first step. She’s waiting for him at home, and Will smiles again and pushes his shoulders back. He’s finally ready.
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rhinestonerainbow · 2 years
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If you’re still up for it, maybe younger Hannibal and Murdoc watching whatever Sebastian left on the tv (ie. Something definitely not appropriate for a young child) // or Murdoc stealing some of Hannibal’s old clothes :]
I want to do both of these. And this is my blog. So I will. Thank you for asking! :D
•Hannibal and Murdoc being able to watch TV was a very, very rare occasion. Usually, because the couch in front of it was blocked by their drunken father watching whatever was running right now, and they were better off without crossing his ways when he was drinking.
•However, today, their father had actually managed to carry his drunken self up the stairs and into his bedroom, probably because he had another woman over he wanted to spend the night with. Since it was Friday, Hannibal decided to take the occasion to watch TV and drag Murdoc with him. Not that the seven year old would've really been able to object, that was.
•"Okay let's see, maybe he left some cool movie on!" Hannibals twelve year old self had cheered before turning his head to the TV. It was, indeed, a movie. Just not exactly one that someone their age should've been watching in the first place, nor be exposed to.
•"Hanni?" Murdoc quietly asked as he pulled on his brothers shirt 'Is what the woman is doing there the same thing dad is doing with the woman upstairs?" The small boy had asked, almost too innocently giving the contents that they were witnessing right now.
•"I... would assume so" Hannibal said, his eyes being practically glued to the screen. Of course they were, he was beginning to hit puberty, such things peaked his interest. But he also knew that his brother was too young for such things, and so he quickly looked into switching the channel. They ended up watching some cheap horror movie, which wasn't much more appropriate either. "Do you think that monster is coming to get me?" Murdoc asked as he sat down on the floor, eyes glued to the screen now too "Nah, those are just cheap effects. You're a baby if that scares you" Hannibal had answered. Followed by a bitter "The only real monster in this house is our father"
•They both fell asleep on the floor together, nobody of them bothering to turn off the TV either. When their father returned to the living room in the morning, he rudely woke them up, complaining about how this was his TV, how they were supposed to keep their hands off of what was his, and how the living room was forbidden for them anyway. They had their rooms, they didn't have to annoy him here too. It ended with a slap for both of them, but that had been worth it.
//
•Murdoc looked up to his brother. Of course he did. Hannibal was stronger, was older, was talented, everything he did was cool, from the music he listened to, the way he cut his hair, to his clothing style.
•The 11 year old wanted nothing more than to copy what his brother was wearing, but hell, he could consider himself lucky if he had something to wear at all. The clothing he owned was either too small, patched up beyond recognition, or too big. And just thinking about asking his father for new clothing made a shiver run down Murdocs spine, and not a pleasant one. "If you want new stuff, you're gonna have to steal it. That old bloke will never give you money, over his dead corpse" the words of his older brother went through Murdocs head again and he got an idea.
•Quickly and quietly as could be, he left his room and walked over to his brothers, opening the door and sneaking in. Luckily, his brother was out with some friends, so Murdoc had no trouble getting in and opening the closet.
•Woah. His brother had a, from the looks of it real leather jacket? No way! That alone was enough to amaze the young boy, but he knew it would be too big and heavy for him. Let's see, what else could he find. Some jeans, bandanas, all not quite what he was looking for.
•And then he spotted it. A pile of clothing that was, as a small note explained, 'for the bin'. So his brother wouldn't need it anymore, correct? Greedy hands dug into the pile, searching for something he could wear.
•When Hannibal came home later that day, he noticed someone had been in his room. The closet door wasn't fully closed, and someone had scattered through his pile of old clothing. He already suspected who that someone was, and when he saw his brother sit across him during, what they called dinner, his suspicion was confirmed. "Is that my Ramones shirt you're wearing?" "Your old Ramones shirt. It was for the bin, correct? So you surely don't mind me wearing it." "You can't just steal my clothes, you are supposed to ask me little toad!" "But if I'd ask you, the answer would be no" "Very correct! Because it doesn't suit you! You don't even listen to them!" "You told me, if I wanted to have nice clothing, I should steal it. That's what I did." "But not from me!"
•In the end, Murdoc had kept the shirt and continued to steal shirts from his brother every once in a while even when he got a black eye from it. It was worth it. 2-D has once said, that he sometimes still spots an old Ramones shirt in Murdocs closet that he has no idea where it comes from.
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torirocksonhere · 1 year
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walk-in review; An Cailín Ciúin | part one
DISCLAMER: i work in a large retail cinema here in ireland. part of my work is doing temperature checks inside of the screens, and whenever im assigned to that duty on my shift, i do just that every half hour (while sneaking in a minute or two of watching the movie). the first part of these reviews comes from whatever i happen to see when i walk into the screen every half hour.
i dont get to see a whole lot, thus this first review comes purely from ~5 minutes of watchtime in random intervals of the movie, and talking to people before and especially after the movie. as you can imagine, it isn't really comprehensive
however i dont watch trailers for movies, even ones that i already want to see, mostly because all of them edit together the best bits of the movie, leaving me disappointed at the shortcomings that they hid behind the big moments. so i count this first review as a sort of "trial-by-fire trailer" for said movie. essentially; "can a couple minutes of watchtime and word-of-mouth alone convince me to watch a movie?"
first i want to preface this with the best thing to come from this movie; the people who come to see it. to put it simply, most of them are quite old, and they are so adorably sweet it makes me so happy ! they always have something nice to say, they never spend too much, and theyre so chatty and lovely and i love old people and WILL DIE FOR THEM.
anyways, the actual movie.
An Cailín Ciúin, from what i can tell, is a movie about all the joys of growing up in rural ireland in ~early 1960s. including, but most certainly not limited to;
abusive and compliant parents
abhorrently obvious middle child syndrome
extensive breaks to your grandparents
cars driving on what can barely be considered as roads
in all seriousness though, this movie has everything to do with observation. (An Cailín Ciúin is irish gaelic for "the quiet girl" and oh boy is our main girl siobhan quiet ! ) our story follows siobhan, a young girl growing up in ireland. if im getting this right, then her parents had a child, needed a break away from minding all the kids at home so they could focus on just one, and in a standard Irish parenting move, sent one away to live with relatives for a while. siobhan is initially scared by the prospect, considering how shy she is, and how scared she is being in a completely new place (autistic coded characters??? in MY irish indie film?????), but she does agree to go, i believe in large part to her abusive father. really standard bad dad. y'know the type. "arent i allowed to have a drink after a long days work?" type beat. it helps the negative connotations that he's the only one who cant speak irish out of everyone in the house.
as an aside; i do believe the father is an allegory for ireland and the irish still feeling the effects of british rule, a time of history that has irreversibly destroyed our culture; a culture that this movie attempts to keep alive, and which it does beautifully. talking to the people who've seen it right after, they said how they felt taken back to a time that was much simpler, a time that was in many ways much better than present time. it's such a shame this movie is being written off by the larger public as "old people movie for old people only no younguns allowed", when in reality this film is trying to show everything that we as the Irish are best at, and where we as a culture shine, and how that's very very quickly being completely eroded to make way for the English way of life. if anything, this movie needs to be shown to the younger generations. it needs to be shown to people that have never experienced the feelings of community that came with being irish, and the incredibly beautiful language that gaeilge is. this movie is the perfect time capsule of Irish culture.
i frankly never got to see a lot of the middle of the movie, there was a plot of siobhan going to a funeral for the first time, and her struggling at school? but the middle of the movie is something i unfortunately have not caught a lot of, and understood less of.
the end of the movie is absolutely heart wrenching, even to me as someone who hasn't watched the entire thing start to finish. essentially, siobhan goes home, her trip is over. her, her siblings, her mother, and her grandparents are all in her house, talking and waiting for her father to get home. when they hear his car pull up, siobhan's mother gets very spooked, with a very worried look on her face. (look if it wasnt obvious at the start that the dad is abusive it really should be now). her grandad tries to reason with her mother, asking her to seek help, which of course the mother refuses. after all, it could take away her children, it could make him angry, it could do all host of things she doesn't want. its easier to just be complacent and suffer. one thing leads to another, and siobhan's grandparents leave. she, along with her mother and father, watch them leave. as soon as father is satisfied, he just heads back in, but mother talks to siobhan, asking her what happened while she was away. they share a stare with each other. mother's filled with dread and despair, and siobhan's with desire. then, siobhan runs down the road, attempting to catch up to her grandparents.
this... hurt to watch. how much she clearly loved and enjoyed life with her grandparents, and how much she hates life at her house, how she just wishes she could stay with them forever. however, as she embraces her grandfather, she sees him. father. she just repeats that, over and over. father. father. father. father. and then the movie ends. the pain in my heart from watching that ending was... unparalleled. it knew exactly how to tug at my heartstrings and did it so well and i hate it for that !!!! (i love it for that)
now that the stuff about the story is over, i wanna talk about close second for the best part of the movie; cinematography!!! and oh my GOD THE CINEMATOGRAPHY
first, most of the movie is shot lower than typical, which is done for two main reasons; to reflect both siobhan's physical and emotional height. obviously because she's a child, she sees the world shorter than most of us, but she's also really, really timid, and shooting low shots further strengthens that feeling of anxiousness that comes from a child, especially a child as quiet as siobhan.
second, the film is in 4:3, which i think is used as a passive reminder to the audience that the film is set in an earlier time frame, since most CRT televisions of the time period were in 4:3.
third, film grain. it isn't present in every shot, but the shots it is present in provide this super lovely and cutesy vintage feel to the movie, which just adds to how much i love the art direction of this film
fourth, focus. focus is barely used in this film, and when it is, it's usually in a shot that siobhan isn't the focus of, which i believe is used to remind us that siobhan is just a child, and children take in a lot more information than us. plus, it adds to one of this movie's greatest strengths; discover, don't show.
...and to be honest, thats all i have about the movie. essentially a girl just wanting to get away, but being scared to. i really like this movie, how it looks and how it sounds and how it feels. it makes me proud of being irish, it makes me want to preserve Irish culture. i love it and i will go and see it. i will either update this post or make a new post when i go to see it, to see if anything about my review changes, what i got right and wrong, and any more tidbits i have to add
(ignore the poll i can't get rid of it im sorry)
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