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arrow-guy · 3 years

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New Friends (8/??)

Summary: It’s hard enough to make friends when you move to a new city, but even harder when you’re trying to rebuild your life at the same time. Bucky lived in NYC for most of his conscious life and now he’s back after years of trying to get himself right. He thinks he’s finally starting to figure everything out, but Steve takes him to a bookstore one day, and everything is turned on its head again.

A/N: Alright, we’re picking up directly where we left off, completely dedicated to the drama. I’m honesty really excited about where we’re headed with this story and I’m still having a lot of fun writing it, which is a Miracle lmao. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: BuckyxReader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part 7

"You know," Mordo calls, "it doesn't have to be like this, (Y/N)."

"It certainly doesn't," I shoot back, cutting down several projectiles. "You could give up on this bullshit crusade and crawl back under whatever rock you came from."

"You know I can't do that."

"Do I?" I peek out from behind what little shelter the Tower provides and flatten myself against the wall when another glowing projectile hurtles past. "Because this seems like something you've got direct control over."

Once I've pinpointed where Mordo is, I conjure a shield and charge him. I'm lucky enough to have caught him off guard and I ram the shield directly into his face. He stumbles back, stunned, and falls to the pavement. He tries to recover, but I hit him again and he stays down.

“I gave you a chance to back down,” I hiss. “I’m not fucking around now.”

He groans out something unintelligible, but I don’t stick around long enough to hear him repeat it. I portal myself home and text Bucky to let him know I'm okay.

Hey, I'm fine, I'm home. Mordo is unconscious on the sidewalk, so I’d honestly suggest you stay inside for a while.

I send the message and pause a moment before typing out another.

I don’t know if I’ll see you much this week, but please don’t come by the shop. I don’t know if he’ll be hanging around. I don’t want you to become more of a target than you already are. I’ll come to you, I promise.

I send the message and set my phone aside to charge.

I know he probably won't answer tonight. Either too stressed to read the messages or already in bed, though I'm sure it's the former. Bucky's not the type to just settle down when something might've happened to someone he cares about. Even so, I know that I can't allow this incident to stop my life. So, I get ready for bed and turn in for the night.

In the morning I wake up to Bucky's response. His messages came in about an hour after I sent mine. They read:

I'm glad you're okay.

Keep me updated.

Stay safe ❤️

The little red heart that punctuates the final message makes me smile. I respond:

Update: I'm opening the store as usual today. I'll stop by the Sanctum after work. We're gonna figure out a way to stop him.

I'll call you tonight.

Before I send the last message, I tap my phone against my lips as I debate whether or not I should add the same heart that Bucky did. I go back and forth for several minutes before ultimately deciding there's no harm in it. I had two red hearts to my last message and hit send and shove my phone in my pocket and ignore it for the rest of the day.

The work day flies by. Lena and Robbie seem to pick up on my mood and they behave perfectly their entire shifts. No doors slamming, no shouting or dropping expensive books. Nothing. Just a smooth day that ends exactly as it's supposed to. I send both of them home early and decide to do the closing cleaning in the morning so that I can leave earlier.

When I finish at the shop, I let Bucky know I'm headed to the Sanctum and leave immediately. Stephen has his nose in a book when I arrive.

"I'm guessing he came back?"

"Oh, he did more than just come back. He attacked Bucky and I outside the Tower last night."

That catches his attention.

Stephen closes the book and looks directly at me. "He attacked both of you?"

"In public, Stephen."

"What happened?"

"He attacked, I retaliated, I shoved Bucky through a portal to get him out of the line of fire, and put Mordo on his ass." I shrugged. "Then I went home to regroup."

"And you didn't think to bring him here?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me breaking down your door at two in the morning?"

"No, but it'd be a hell of a lot better than leaving him in the street."

"We have different priorities. Yours lie in keeping the public safe, and I’m more concerned with Bucky, Lena, and Robbie. The rest is up to you and your cohorts."

"Fine. What do you propose we do, then?"

“I’m not waiting for him to come to us anymore,” I say simply. “We’re going to him.”

"You're sure about that?"

"He wasn't going after the people close to me before. Now he is. And we know he has no problem taking people out when he decides they're in his way. I want to take him down."

“We’re not killing him.”

“No shit, Sherlock, of course we’re not killing him. It’s illegal.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Obviously that’s not what you meant. But I know what your conscience is like, and I’m not really into ending someone’s life. We can do this without stooping to his level.”

"True, but even so, we have to be smart about this. We both know how skilled Mordo is. There has to be a solid plan."

"Of course." I begin to pace. "But we don't even know where he's hiding. He could be anywhere."

"True, but he may be closer than we'd expect. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to track him."

“You think we could?”

“There’s very little that can’t be done with magic.”

“Surveillance could be risky, though. If he’s willing to attack out in the open, I doubt he’s just going to let his guard down when he’s alone.”

“That’s exactly why we need a plan.”

“Can we get Wong in on this? He’s been around the block, I’m sure he’d have a few tricks up his sleeve for this sort of thing.”

“You’re right.”

The three of us moved between the Sanctum and the library at Kamar-Taj, looking for anything that could possibly help. As wonderful as it is that none of us have been stalked like this before, it’s proving difficult to scrounge up anything of substance.

There were a few masters who heard us grumbling who offered assistance, and we wrote down everything they had to say. In the end, it doesn’t amount to much, and I lay on the floor beside Stephen, tired and frustrated.

“I wish this were easier,” I grouse.

“So do I.” Stephen turns the page in the book he’s skimming through. He’s already read it four times. “But we’ve got a few leads. Thalia had some helpful information.”

“True, but she hasn’t spoken with him since he left.”

“Just be grateful we have some kind of clue as to what his habits might be.”

“Did you not pick up on any of this when you were training with him?”

“Did you?”

“No, I didn’t train with him. I did better in group settings than one on one. Other than that, I had occasional meetings with the Ancient One for assistance with my leg.”

“Did you ever train with Master Hamir?”

“No. My disability is different from yours.” I hold my hands out defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s vastly talented and all that, but you’re the one who needed to quit bitching about not having use of your hands.”

“Don’t remind me,” he mutters.

I sing one arm over my eyes. “I don’t get him.”

“Hamir?”

“No, Mordo. Like I get that he’s lost and upset after what happened with the Ancient One, but in what plane of reality does that justify taking someone else’s life into his own hands? Because none of this is up to him. All of us made the choice to study magic. We all follow the same rules. Sure, our teacher kicked some serious holes in them, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t benefit from her lessons.”

“I agree. But it’s not like we can do anything about how he feels and thinks.”

“Well, I mean, that wouldn’t be productive anyway. I just wish there were some way to show him that he’s not doing the good he thinks he is.” My phone buzzes and I check it to find several texts from Bucky and a couple missed calls. “Aw, balls.”

“Hmm?”

“Bucky’s been trying to get ahold of me.”

“Ah. You two are together now, right?”

“Mhm, a little over a week now.”

“That’s great,” he says, no inflection in his voice. I’ve known him long enough to know he’s being sincere.

“It’s almost midnight, I should probably get going.” I haul myself to my feet. “I’ll swing by again tomorrow,”

Stephen just waves me off and I head home. As soon as I’m in my apartment I call Bucky.

“I was starting to worry.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I meant to call you earlier, but I got sidetracked.”

“Any luck at the Sanctum?“

“A little.” (Y/N) sighs and Bucky wishes he were there with her. “I’m going back tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll be able to find something I wasn’t while I’m not there.”

Bucky flops down on his bed. “Aside from that, how was your day?”

“It was fine. Lena and Robbie were incredibly well behaved, but I think it might’ve had something to do with my mood. I’m afraid I wasn’t as perky as I usually am.”

“I’d say you had a pretty good excuse for that.”

“Even so, I could’ve made an attempt to be a little brighter.” She sighs and he hears the creak of her bed as she takes a seat. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Mostly worried about you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about forcing you into the Tower. It was impulsive and I didn’t think before doing it. I just wanted to get you out of the line of fire and away from him.”

“I know. I forgive you.”

“That sounded a lot like an excuse. I promise it wasn’t. I just feel like I need to explain everything I’m doing.”

“I appreciate that. I’d rather be in the loop.”

She hums. “How was your day?”

“Aside from worrying about you?”

(Y/N) laughs. “Of course. What’d Avenging entail today?”

“Mostly paperwork.”

“Ah. Gross.”

“Very. But I’ll take paperwork over training newbies any day.”

“Ooh, can’t argue with you there. There’s something especially frustrating about beating the ‘i know better than you’ out of someone who definitely doesn’t.”

Bucky laughs. “Exactly that.”

“Would you… maybe want to come over on Friday?” she asks. “We could do dinner and a movie from the safety of my above ground bunker.”

“You think it’s safe?”

“As long as I bring you directly over, I think so.”

“Okay. What’d you have in mind?”

“Nothing set in stone for dinner, but maybe we could watch Willow?”

“What’s it about?”

“I’m not really sure how to describe it. A little found family, a little magic, a destined hero. All kinds of good stuff.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“I don’t know if you know this about me, but one of my favorite things is sharing movies I love with people I care about.”

Bucky smiles. “So you don’t mind watching it again?”

“Only if you’re here.”

“That was the cutest thing you could’ve said just now.”

“Does that mean I can pick you up on Friday?” Bucky can practically hear her smiling.

“Yeah, of course. I look forward to it.”

“Aw, yay!” Softer, she says, “I’m excited to see you again.”

“I’m excited to see you too,” Bucky murmurs.

“Under better circumstances, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

Bucky yawns and (Y/N) says, “I should probably let you go.”

“No, I can still talk.”

“We can talk tomorrow. You should get some sleep.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow. Earlier. I promise.”

“Okay. You’re done working for tonight, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. You should get some sleep.”

“I will. Goodnight, Bucky.”

“G’night.”

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Part 9

Another movie date at home? Groundbreaking. I’ll take twenty more, please and thank you,

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101-blog, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @buckysendoftheline, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @feelmyroarrrr, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound

This Fic:

@yourlittlestalkerlollipopgirl, @mia-j-333, @tailsoflightning

#buckybarnesxreader #readerxbuckybarnes #bucky barnesxreader #readerxbucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the boi #reader insert marvel fic

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minghaocouture · 3 years

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Title: By Moonlight Pairing: Implied Prince!Vernon (Seventeen) x (GN) Mage!Reader Prompt: CWC Valentines Event - “You’re Important too” Genre: Fluff, High Fantasy AU Warnings: Language WC: 2.3K+ Edits by: Me <3 A/N: Happy Valentines Day @elcie-chxn!! I hope you have a wonderful day, sweetie! Thankfully I wrote this all before the writing half of my brain shut down lol, so i didn’t get to edit this but I’m glad I was at least able to get it done <3 NGL i saw you liked fantasy stuff and just kinda ran with it, so I hope you enjoy!

“His Highness, Prince Vernon, requested your presence.” Those simple words seemed to send your brain into a spiral. You had been working for days on end with practically no breaks, researching and studying so that your work might possibly be seen by the mage’s collective. Sure, being an apprentice to the head mage for King Chwe wasn’t a terrible job, but getting to join the collective would completely change your lot in life. It was all you could focus on, to the point that you had potentially started neglecting your duties to the crown. So you couldn’t imagine that this was a good call.

You tore your eyes away from the documents sprawled out on your workbench, glancing back to face your teacher, Wonwoo, who stood at your door. He looked serious, as usual, but this seemed different and the look seemed to send a wave of anxiety to your gut.

“Of course, thank you for the message. I’ll make myself more presentable and be right out.” You declared. Wonwoo gave you a firm nod, looking as if there was something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say and yet he could not get the words past his lips. So he took his leave, pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind him.

You were lucky, having your own private chambers in the palace. Those that weren’t members of the Royal family usually slept in communal rooms, with 4 or 5 people crowded inside small spaces just so that the King could renovate the former chambers into better ballrooms, or something else that could leave his guests in awe. It was disgusting.

It didn’t take you too long to get prepared to go see the Prince. You hadn’t been sleeping regularly, so you were still in your work attire, the mage robes that had been assigned to you when you first arrived as an apprentice when your magic had first revealed itself.

Pacing down the quiet halls of the palace at night was always an eerie thing. Your footsteps echoing against the stone flooring, while the halls were only lit by moonlight and the small lantern in your grasp. You don’t know how the night guards managed to travel the halls every night without fear.

As you traveled down the twisting and turning hallways, you finally stood before the door to the library. It was a grand door, one meant to show that it was a room of knowledge, with beautiful etchings carved into the wood and made to resemble the tree branches that the mahogany used to be. While beautiful, you could only imagine it being insulting to the tree that the door had once been.

Pushing these thoughts aside, you eased the door open and cringed slightly at the loud creaking of the hinges. You would need to tell one of the maids about that later, the King would be furious if he heard such a thing.

Taking a step into the library proper, you called out for the young Prince that had desired your attention.

“Your Highness? You wanted to see me?”

No answer.

Strange. Taking a few more steps, you paced towards the back of the grand library and up the tall stairs to the second flooring. The second floor housed the more...intricate books, that involved things like magic. It was a place you were quite familiar with. As you crept up the stairs you felt your heart almost leap out of your chest as a rather loud sound ripped through the room. A gasp left your lips in shock, fear coursing through your veins, before it happened again and you, foolishly, realised what it was.

“He fell asleep. Bastard called for me, and then fell asleep.” You snorted, following the now softer sounds that were without a doubt coming from the sleeping Prince.

You finally stumbled upon his table, his head resting in the pages of an open book with thick wisps of his sandy brown tresses softly falling onto the parchment and exposing the slight point to his ears. Anyone in the Kingdom could tell he was beautiful, as one of the only known instances of a human and an elf having a child.

For a moment, you debated on waking him up. You knew that he had been studying hard as his coronation ceremony would be in a mere 2 months, but this seemed a bit excessive. Falling asleep in the library was dangerous for a Prince. Though you had to admit, you were a bit jealous. The exhaustion from your long hours of studying and magic use had worn you down, and you longed for a good night’s rest. Sadly, if you wanted to impress the Collective, then you would not see a proper night’s sleep in your near future.

“Your Highness,” your voice soft as air as you reached out to gently nudge his shoulder. A grumble replaced his previous snores, the reaction pulling a small chuckle from you. “It’s rather rude to fall asleep after calling for someone.”

Seeming as if he understood the words despite his exhausted state, he slowly began pushing himself up. An ungloved hand lifted to rub his eyes in an attempt to expedite the process of waking up, though it hardly did him any good. As he adjusted to being awake once more, you took the seat across from him with a small grin etched onto your lips.

“Enjoy your nap, your Highness?”

“I would have enjoyed it more in my bed, but this will do.” He let out a rather undignified yawn, throwing his arms up to stretch the muscles in his shoulders that had tensed from his uncomfortable position. Most people would never get to see this side of the Prince, and yet, you weren’t most people.

“And how many times do I have to say it, just call me Vernon.” He grumbled, his piercing eyes fixing yours with a rather unimpressed look lingering in their gaze.

You found yourself struggling to keep a yawn suppressed, he would just worry after all, if he could tell how hard you were pushing yourself.

“I suppose you’ll just have to keep telling me, your Highness.”

“Okay, that one was just to piss me off wasn’t it?”

You grin grew wider which gave him the only response he needed. He let out yet another, al bet, smaller yawn before closing the book before him and muttering something about drool. When that task was finished his gaze returned to you.

“You didn’t come to dinner tonight.” It wasn’t a question, obviously, he knew you weren’t there. It had been a rule that the head mage and their apprentice would be allowed to dine with the Royal family one night per week. You weren’t sure why the rule was in place and it seemed rather odd, especially with the King’s temperament, to allow simple mages to dine with him. Usually at that dinner you were given much better food than if you were simply going to the kitchens to dine, so you never complained even when the atmosphere in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

“I wasn’t feeling all that hungry. I was just going to grab a snack from the kitchens before bed,” Not exactly a lie, it was true that you were going to grab something from the kitchens but you weren’t planning on sleeping tonight, not when you were so close to a break through on your latest spell attempt.

“Or last week.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched for your reaction, examining as your eyes flickered away from him. It was as if he could read you like a book. Though that was to be expected with how long he had known you. It seemed just like yesterday you were arriving at the castle, your hands gripping tightly to your mothers skirts. She had been hired as a cook and because of that your little family was allowed shelter in the castle. It was a completely new experience for you, and was much bigger than the shack you had lived in while in the village. The stone walls seemed to climb on forever, so close to the sky that you had to crane your neck to even see the tops of them.

That was how you had met the young Prince. Your eyes had been glued to the sky, following the lines of the stone walling as you trailed behind your mother as the two of you tended to the castle’s gardens. As you had been walking, your frame rammed into none other than Prince Vernon himself.

Your mother had been beside herself with anger at you, and fear of upsetting the young Prince, but the boy laughed it off and invited you to play with him and the other royal children that had been visiting. You agreed, of course, and never looked back.

“I was working that night. Wonwoo had asked me to craft a particular potion, and I had messed it up right before dinner...so I stayed to fix it.”

A scoff left the young Prince’s lips, his eyes rolling at your lie. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest, as he fixed his gaze onto you. You had always had your suspicions that the Prince was teaching himself magic, but you weren’t too sure until you heard a familiar phase leave his lips.

“Veritas Patere.” His eyes flashed the familiar blue that you were so used to seeing in your own iris’ when performing magic. A cold rush ran through your skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake as the spells effects began.

“Why weren’t you at dinner?” His question was spoken confidently, his tone demanding an answer despite the fact that it didn’t need to. The spell was doing the ‘demanding’ for him.

“I was studying, working on a new spell to send to the Mage’s Collective.” The truth slipped from your lips without any hesitation, a stark contrast from before. You hadn’t expected the Prince’s magic to be this strong, usually beginner mages had a much more difficult time casting truth spells of this level. Yet it seemed to be nothing to him.

“Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

This question caught you off guard, he had gotten the answer he wished for so why didn’t he dispel the magic? Why was this even a question in his mind when he had much more important things to think of, his coronation being one of them.

“Getting this spell working is the only thing that matters right now. If I don’t get this spell perfected by the time of your coronation, then I failed as a mage and won’t be allowed to take over Master Wonwoo’s position.” Vernon’s face twisted in confusion at this answer, his eyes still holding the faint glow of magic in them. You could tell that the spell wouldn’t last much longer as the light dimmed, he didn’t have enough energy to keep it going.

“What do you mean? I thought the position would transfer to you once I was crowned?” Of course he wouldn’t know. The collective was a secretive bunch and didn’t give their secrets out to just anyone, not even royalty. There were certain rules in place though, rules you weren’t supposed to share and yet you found the words slipping from your lips at the behest of his spell.

“When a new King or Queen gets crowned, their old head mage will be succeeded by their apprentice and they will be sent on to a different Kingdom. The only exception is if the apprentice has yet to prove themselves to the collective.” You confessed, were it not for the spell keeping your eyes connected to his, you would have looked away in shame. It was like a magnet, keeping your gaze firmly connected with his and you felt your gut sink as you watched his expression change from confusion, into one of mild understanding and frustration.

“If I don’t do something to prove myself, then you will be assigned a different mage and I will have to follow Wonwoo to his next assignment before I can try again.” As the last words left your lips, you watched the glowing blue finally dissipate from his rich brown eyes. You usually loved his eyes, and could get lost in them as the two of you chatted with one another, but now you found yourself practically shrinking beneath his gaze.

“This is too important for me to mess up, Vernon.” He was too important, and you didn’t want to get taken away from him. Thankfully, with the spell gone, you weren’t forced to reveal such a secret to the young Prince. Despite this, it almost seemed as if he could tell what you were thinking at that moment.

His hands reached across the table to grasp your own that had been resting against the wood. His calloused thumbs gently rubbed circles on the tops of your hands as he squeezed them, trying to comfort you in anyway he could. It...helped your anxiety a bit, but couldn’t stop the sense of dread you had been feeling since the announcement of his Coronation.

“Well, you’re important too.” He declared, pulling your hands closer to him. His lips ghosting over your knuckles, causing your heart to practically stop in your chest. “What do you think will happen if you get sick because you’re not taking care of yourself? You’re not just some mage to me, you know that right?”

His tone was soft, and caused a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your belly. You weren’t quite sure he was aware of the effect he had on you, but you were almost certain he could hear the rapid pounding of your heart as he firmly pressed his lips to the top of one of your hands. Pulling away he looked up at you, his gaze hooded as he was practically set aglow by the moonlight pouring from the large windows.

“So you better start taking care of yourself.”

You weren’t sure if that was a threat or not, but you would do it. After all, if he thought you were important enough to take care of...then you surely must be.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kdiarynet #cwcvg2021 #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #vernon x reader #Vernon imagine #vernon scenarios #Vernon fluff

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warriorlid14 · 3 years

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So Gale and Delly. I had honestly never considered them at first, thinking they were far too different. Buuuuuuut.... I think it works? And is actually super cute when you think about for a second?

So here’s my take on how it would happen. It was supposed to be a series of short bullet points, but instead, you get a disorganized mini-fic. I’ll edit it later into an actual fic format, but for now, here ya go:

Delly goes to District 2. Gale is surprised to see her in one of their rebel/reconstruction/rebuilding/whatever their name was meetings two weeks after he had officially moved to D2. She had greeted him warmly and he supposed he had looked confused, because she suddenly had a sad smile and said, “There’s too many memories back in Twelve.” He didn’t have a response for that. He had too many ghosts back in Twelve, too.

He had never given Delly a second thought. She wasn’t in his grade level and he vaguely recognized her when he’d first seen her in D13. He supposed she was nice enough, what with the whole helping Peeta come back from... well, helping Peeta come back. But they didn’t interact, they didn’t cross paths, and he’d never had a reason to form much of an opinion of her.

But then after two days of her quietly listening in to the meetings, after Pike proposed simply demolishing the buildings near the square and rebuilding from scratch, Delly broke her silence and softly said, “Well, what do the citizens from District 2 want?”

There was silence, and then Pike said, “This will be the easier than attempting to repair every single building to its original standard.” And Delly said “But this is their home,” her voice going up a decibal. After some debate within the team, Pike had told her that if she wanted to speak to all 60k (now 50k) residents of D2, to be his guest.

Five days later, Delly showed up with 700 written testimonies with requests to not tear down the buildings as well as grievances the team hadn’t even considered. Everybody was fed and had some sort of shelter- even if it was mostly camps. That had been the team’s main focus. But people wanted shoes, and shower facilities, and actual funerals for the dead.

They decided not to tear down the buildings. And Gale decided that he had underestimated Delly Cartwright.

Two weeks later Gale decided he detested Delly Cartwright. Okay, so detested was a strong word, but she absolutely aggravated him. How, just how, could a person be so cheery? At seven in the morning? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to waking up at the crack of dawn, but that was to go to the forest. Their work place was a dimly lit, dampy building. Which also happened to house half of them, including the two of them. And if she chirpily asked him how his previous day was one more time on the elevator while he was busy trying to wake up, he would snap.

But she was from D12. The only other person from Twelve. And she meant nothing to him before, and in a way, still didn’t. It wasn’t like they were friends. But she was from home. And that counted for something.

One day, a woman asked Delly if there was any way to retrieve her dead husband’s wedding band from the moratorium. Which led to dozens of similar requests. So Gale and Delly and five volunteers found themselves trying to ID bodies and gather belongings. The rebels had started doing this at first, but the bodies had piled up, and there were simply too many of them to continue.

For the first time, Gale saw Delly lose her smile and cheery demeanor. He told her she didn’t have to go in. He’d seen enough corpses. Some of them by his hand. A few more wouldn't make a difference. But Delly shook her head and headed to the first corpse. Gale decided that she was growing on him.

That night, Gale wondered if the corpses littered across D12 still had wedding bands on.

The first time Gale saw Delly angry was two months in when she demanded that workers from The Nut be given food and shelter instead of being left to fend for themselves. Pike yelled at her and called her naive, stepping closer towards her and Gale instinctively stepped in closer as well, protectively.

Delly’s face was flushed and she had tears in her eyes- she wasn’t one for confrontations- but she looked at Pike in the eyes and didn’t step back.

It was funny, really, how not so long ago, he would have agreed with Pike. Not so long ago, he would have looked at the workers from the Nut, Capitol supporters, and said “No. You don’t get to work for the enemy for years, you don’t get to kill for the enemy, and then demand the same rights as those who fought for freedom. That’s not fair.” Not so long ago, he had stood by that mountain and felt the ghost of the fire licking at his feet, burning his side, seen the fire flash in his mind and burn down his home, his neighbors, children, felt the fire wrap around his chest, his heart, his soul, and said, “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. You killed my district. Now you deserve to die.” But now the fire he remembered the most was the one that had taken a blond-haired, blue-eyed, little girl that he loved like a sister. And for what? What had he fought for? Freedom. Protection. Justice. Revenge? But the war was over. And what had he fought for? All that loss could not have been in vain.

So he stepped behind Delly and loudly agreed with her. And when she smiled at him, it was almost contagious.

Delly left their department not long after they started looking for shelter for the workers at The Nut. She was now working on forming some sort of social program. Trying to build a community. Scrounging for resources outside of immediate survival. She was only two doors down from him, but Gale was surprised to find that he actually missed her constant humming in the office.

He supposed that this was why he accepted the invitation to attend the community dinner she organized a couple of weeks later. He kept his head down the entire time, focused on his meal. He had never been particularly quiet or reserved. He hadn’t been particularly outgoing, either, but he had never been shy. Now, though, he looked at his plate and didn’t offer any input to the conversation, weary of accusatory looks and swearing that he could hear people thinking murderer.

So he was quiet, until Delly loudly announced “I’m sure Mr. Hawthorne would love to play with you,” and he looked up to see a group of five boys aged eight to twelve holding a ball and looking at him hopefully. He gave Delly a half-glare and was about to say that Mr. Hawthorne would most certainly not love to play, but she smiled brightly at him, ignoring him. And so he found himself being dragged off to a game that included kicking a ball into a makeshift net.

When he sat back down half an hour later, hair mussed and actually smiling, Pike said, “I didn’t know you were any good with kids, Hawthorne.” Delly piped up, “Oh, Gale’s great with kids. He has three younger siblings, and he was always making them laugh back in District 13.” Gale was surprised that she knew this, that she’d noticed. He gave her a questioning look, but she just smiled in return.

He kept stealing glances at her throughout the night, mostly quizzically. Maybe it was that he hadn’t been looking closely at her, but he noticed that she had gained some of her old weight back, cheeks fuller. Hair shinier. He didn’t know her before, but he did know what had happened to her parents, and knew what grief did to a person. But she looked healthier now. Good. She deserved good things in her life.

The next time they saw each other was two days later when Gale was cursing at his unit’s jammed door that was refusing to open. He was so desperate for some sleep, having just pulled a fourteen hour shift, that he was considering just ramming it down when Delly walked by, saw his predicament, and offered to let him sleep on her couch. He was so tired, he agreed without much hesitation.

The next day he woke up to the sound of loud singing, a little off-key, and mentally groaned, shifting on the couch to try to find a comfortable position again. But Delly took this as a sign that he had woken up and brightly said, "Good morning, Gale! I hope you had a great night's sleep! Was the couch comfortable?" Gale mentally cursed, but responded and got up. He found himself sitting down across from Delly and eating some toast she had made, while Delly happily chirped on about how it was going to rain that day and how she loved the smell of freshly-water grass. Gale couldn't stop himself from asking "How are you so happy all the time?" She looked surprised, and said, "I'm not happy all the time." He must have given her an incredulous look, because she shrugged and said, "I just like to focus on the small things. On the brighter things." She paused, then said softly, "It makes it easier, on the bad days, to pick myself up again."

Gale dismissed this at first, thinking that it was just a Delly thing. But then one day he woke up with the image of burning blond hair and pained blue eyes and clipped mockingjay wings. And his heart hurt so much that it was hard to breathe, that he was sure someone had reached into his chest and started to squeeze. But that day, when he visited one of the camps with his team he caught sight of two children laughing, kicking around a ball. Saw their parents smiling, with a genuineness and lightheartedness that was hard to find before the war. He held that image in his head the entire day, focused hard on it. It had been for something. The pain, the destruction, the deaths. Selling his soul to the fight. It had been for something. And the pain in his heart didn't disappear. But he did felt the pressure lessen, just a bit.

It started with an invite to dinner at her unit. And then he reciprocated because it was the polite thing to do. And then they were at each other's places once, twice, three times a week after work. And suddenly he found that he was friends with Delly Cartwright. It had been a while since he'd had a friend. He had plenty back in 12, and there was Katniss of course, and a few in 13. But now half of them were dead or hated him or were back in a district he couldn't force himself to visit. He hadn't realized how much he missed easy companionship, how much he needed actual human contact, until he found himself smiling at Delly's animated retelling of a family her team had reunified the day prior. She was a breath of fresh air in a place that was still wounded, that was still bleeding.(But somehow, it was still healing)

Delly tried to pick up new habits and hobbies often. She told him about how she failed at baking, and was decent at gardening, but could never keep track of which plants needed more or less water. A week after they had started actually hanging out, she had taken up knitting and had dragged Gale along to practice with her. To his surprise, he found that he was actually good at it. It made sense, though, considering his ability with snares. Delly smiled encouragingly at him, but still seemed a little annoyed that he had picked up her new hobby much quicker than she had. Gale grinned at this, glad to see that Delly wasn't actually superhuman and also had normal, petty, human emotions. When she held up her poor attempt at a glove that inexplicably seemed to have a thumb in the middle of the hand, he but burst out laughing. He stopped when he saw her giving him a strange look, and asked "What?" She shrugged, and said, "I don't think I've heard you laugh since we were at District 13." But then she smiled and said, "It's a nice laugh, though. It suits you. I wished you would do it more often." And to his horror, he felt himself actually blush. It wasn't like he wasn't used to compliments. Oh, he heard "gorgeous" and "hot" and the occasional "sexy" and felt eyes looking him up and down, sometimes enough to make him uncomfortable, especially when the person was significantly older. But he didn't think he'd ever heard someone compliment his laugh. It was... nice, actually. He muttered a quick "thanks" and went back to his attempt at making a hat. There was an awkward silence for a bit, but half an hour later, he was lightly teasing Delly on her skills.

It turned out that laughing was easier when Delly was around. Maybe it was having a friend once more. Maybe it was just Delly, her lightness contagious.

Delly was ranting about Pike. Except that, because she was Delly, she wasn't actually insulting him. And kept saying phrases like "while I understand where he's coming from" and "he's a good man, really, but". So Gale said, "You can call him a dick, you know. We all do it." Delly hesitated and said, "But he isn't. Not really. He just doesn't understand that we also need funding for community building and healing." Gale shook his head, amused. "Call him a dick, Delly. You know you want to." Delly sighed, and said, "I think you want me to. Would it make you feel better, to hear me call him that?" Gale grinned. "Yes, it would. I need to know that you can physically curse." Delly rolled her eyes and said, "Fine." Then softly, hesitant, she said, "he's a dick." Gale burst out laughing and Delly rolled her eyes once more, but she was laughing too. "This isn't about my ability to curse, you know. I was talking about funding for mental health professionals. The community needs it." Gale, still laughing, said, "Delly Cartwright, defender of human rights." Delly shook her head exasperatedly, but then said, "that term applies to you too, you know." That stopped his laughter. He thought about a time, not long ago, when he'd stood by a mountain full of weapons and suggested destroying them along with everyone inside. Thought about the weapons that had ended the war- and taken dozens of innocent children with them. Gale swallowed. "I wouldn't say that." Delly smiled softly at him. "You risked your life everyday fighting for freedom. Don't underestimate yourself, Gale."

Spending so much time with Delly made him become more attuned with her emotions. Which was why a couple of months later, he began to notice the strain in her smile, the way it didn't quite reach her eyes. So he took her out to the woods one weekend in an attempt to cheer her up. He didn't hunt, though. He didn't think she'd appreciate the sight of dead squirrels. But she did appreciate the freedom of the woods and the wind in her hair and the sound of the river cutting through a valley. She had sat down next to it, picking out flowers along the edge of the river and talking about how maybe he could teach her how to swim. When she looked up at him, a warm smile on her face, her blue eyes brighter in the sunlight and blond hair glowing almost gold, his answer caught in his throat. For a second, he couldn't think about anything else but how pretty she looked, but quickly buried the thought down at her expectant eyes. He told her that it was getting too cold to go swimming, now almost November. But he could teach her once it was warmer.

They stayed there for a few more hours, and she slowly became more quiet. Finally, she admitted that it was her parent's birthday that week- their birthdays fell three days apart. She said that they usually celebrated with pastries and board games then became silent once more, wistfully looking out to the horizon, eyes tearing up pulling knees to her chest. He awkwardly placed an arm around her in an attempt at comfort, but she seemed to think it was enough, burying her head in his shoulder.

Sometimes, when he felt unbearably homesick he spent hours out in the woods. They weren't the same as his woods, but they were close enough. And if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was home. Delly didn't have something like the woods to comfort her, though. The only real connection she had to D12 in D2 was himself, and it wasn't like they knew each other before the war. He had an idea then, of someone who did know her before, someone who could help. And he hated that he suddenly felt afraid.

He and Peeta Mellark had never been friends. Not exactly. He had tried hating him once, long ago, but had quickly given up. He was too nice, too kind, too caring and never treated Gale with anything less than respect. Which led to Gale grudgingly respecting him on a bad day and actually liking the guy on a good day. In another world, maybe they could have been good friends. But in this world, he was the person closest to Katniss, at least according to Greasy Sae who he talked to once a month, and that thought filled him with dread. That Peeta could mention him to Katniss. That Peeta would know whether Katniss hated him outright or not. That he could ask Peeta to talk to Katniss on his behalf. That he could call Peeta and accidentally get Katniss on the line. And though sometimes he longed to at least hear her voice, to confirm that she was okay, he had left for a reason. And as much as he wanted to hear from her, he knew she didn't want to hear from him. But this wasn't for himself. This was for Delly. And Peeta was the one person who might be able to help. So a week later, he sucked up his fears and picked up the phone.

As soon as Peeta's voice came from the other line, Gale's mind went blank and all he could come up with as a greeting was "Um, hi." There was a pause, and then "Gale?" He swallowed. "Yeah, yeah it's me." There was another pause where Gale tried to sort through his thoughts, but before he could bring up Delly's name, Peeta awkwardly and reluctantly asked, "Do you want me to put Katniss on the line?" which caused Gale to practically shout "No!" into the receiver. "No," he said again, not shouting this time. "It's you I wanted to talk to, actually." Gale quickly explained his plan, and after a few seconds of silence, Peeta said, "That's a good idea. That's really kind of you, Gale." Gale said, "Well, she's my friend," almost defensively. "No, I know. I'm glad she's got you looking out for her," Peeta said. "Right." There was a silence, and Gale thought that maybe now would be the right time to hang up, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. "I really miss her," Peeta said finally. "She misses you, too," Gale said. Which was true, but he usually wouldn't be saying that. There was another silence, but Gale still didn't hang up. "Maybe I should go up there to visit her," Peeta said. Gale noticed how he said I instead of we. No Katniss then. Which Gale didn't know whether to be relieved it or not. Still, he said, "I'm sure she'd like that." Still, he didn't hang up. But he couldn't bring himself to ask either. And Peeta, ever perceptive, caught on to the reason for his hesitation and finally said, "Katniss is doing better, Gale."

Relief. That was the immediate feeling that overwhelmed him, followed closely by longing. There was once a time when he and Katniss lived in each other's pocket. When they depended on each other for survival, for their sanity. And no matter what had happened between them, romantic or not, Katniss was his best friend. He missed her. He missed her so much it physically hurt some days. And for a second he wanted nothing more than to hop on the next train to D12 to see his friend. But friends didn't kill each other's siblings. So he said, "Thanks, um, take care," and hung up. He desperately hoped Peeta hadn’t heard the lump that had formed in his throat.

His order arrived a few days later in some sort of container to preserve the baked books. Gale looked inside the box to find the invoice he had requested, but of course Peeta didn’t include it. He rolled his eyes and made a mental note to ask Greasy Sae how much she thought the food was worth. What he did find was a piece of paper with a phone number. Which wasn’t needed, really, because he had memorized that number months and months ago and every week got closer to dialing it. He knew he wouldn’t though. Peeta may have been closer to Katniss now, but that didn’t mean that Gale didn’t know her, too. And his presence would hurt her too much at the moment. But the fact that Peeta had given him her number meant that she probably didn’t despise the ground he walked on, then. And that was something.

When Delly opened the box to reveal an assortment of muffins, cupcakes, and cookies, all distinctly District Twelve, her eyes widened and she practically jumped at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. He pulled her closer towards him, inhaling the scent of cinnamon that was always present in her unit and lingered on her at all times. He felt a sense of loss when she let go and was tempted to pull her back into his arms when she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and said, “Thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. The feel of her lips on his cheek lingered for the rest of the evening.

Gale lay awake that night in his bed, heart pounding hard in his chest. He wasn’t dense. He knew what his recent thoughts about his cheerful, peppy friend meant. And the only coherent thought he could come up with about his predicament was Oh no.

It was his own little secret he carried around for months. He tried not to stare at her too hard and tried to avoid thinking about her lips or about how her smile seemed to light up the entire world in the darkest of times. His world, at least. Sometimes it felt like the war, the bombs, had extinguished all the fire and passion inside of him. That the fire that had one day burned so strongly had died, taking with it his friend and his sister and his soul. Sometimes it felt like he was running on autopilot, doing what was expected of him, trying his best to amend his mistakes but feeling... not much, really. Empty But one look at Delly who shone so bright and he felt the warmth back in his chest. He wouldn’t tell her, of course. He couldn’t risk losing their friendship, going back to being bitter and miserable and oh so lonely all the time.

He really needed to stop falling in love with his friends.

On the anniversary of the end of the war, the anniversary of Prim’s death, Gale didn’t leave his unit. He had every intention to, even got dressed and brushed his teeth, he had a job to do after all. But then he heard the sound of some kids laughing outside his window and he fell back down on his couch. He didn’t get back up.

The pain was sudden and intense, suffocating him, and for a second he thought he was back in D12, choking under the fumes and screaming as his shirt caught on fire. He wondered if that was what Prim had felt, what all those kids had felt, those last few seconds, and he laid down and curled into himself. But he knew that no matter how horrible he felt, somewhere hundreds of miles away, Katniss was feeling worse. He had never wished for anything more than to be able to switch places with Prim at that moment. Little Prim who wanted to be a doctor. Little Prim who risked her life to save her cat. Little Prim who wanted nothing more than to heal others. Prim. Dead. At his hand.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, but eventually the door to his unit opened. Delly. He had given her a key for emergencies ages ago. And suddenly Delly was sitting on the couch and his head was in her lap and she was running her fingers through his hair and whispering something he couldn’t decipher. So he closed his eyes and tried to let her voice and smell and the feel of her fingers on his scalp ground him.

He wasn’t sure what Delly saw in him, why she stuck around. But Delly was good and kind saw the best in everyone. And had decided he was worth her friendship. And maybe if sweet and kind Delly saw something good in him, that meant there was something in him that was salvageable.

District 2 didn’t abide to the laws of science and weather because there was a huge snowstorm in the middle of March. Delly’s team and his team worked diligently for days to get the last 500 people or so moved out of camps and into the newly rebuilt compounds. Hours before the three-day storm was to hit, they were finally released and sent home. He and Delly had decided that they would weather out the storm at her place and spent the first night huddled in front of the fire, retelling old stories and playing board games and laughing into the night.

The next morning Gale woke up to the sound of Delly bustling in the kitchen, singing loudly and a little off-key. He smiled to himself, and thought that he really wouldn’t mind waking up to her voice more often.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. If he had leaned in first, if she had. But on that third night of the storm, one minute snuggling and laughing under the blanket and the next wrapped in each other’s arms, they broke apart, grinning at each other and lips tingling.

Gale decided in that moment, that he had never felt more at peace.

#gale hawthorne #delly cartwright #peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg #gale x delly #warriorlid writes #excuse the formatting y'all #this was really only supposed to be a bunch of bullet points #whoops

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punkgrogg · 4 years

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Doorway Duo pt.2

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 2,456 words

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, this summer has been one disaster and tragedy (my grandpa, great grandma, and college friend have all passed) after another but I’m almost finished with part 3 so I’ll be posting that in the next couple of days.

Date posted: 7/26/2020

Pregnancy sucks. My back hurts and my feet are sore after just a few hours walking. Not to mention the overall discomfort of my body swelling up to accommodate the new human developing inside of it. Luckily I only have about three more months of this left and I could finally hold my baby boy. Yeah, Hobi was right. He claimed that it was his hybrid genes that made him privy to this information but Kook calls bullshit- he and Tae had been hoping it was a girl.

In the past two months of staying back home, I’ve seemed to bond super well with the two new hybrids. At first, it was easy to become friends with Tae, he was overly friendly and followed me around after our first-day meeting. Once my baby bump became prominent I could keep him away; he spent most of his waking hours cooing at my stomach. I had to work a bit harder to get Jungkook to open up to me and all it took was a few weeks of calling Taehyung his nickname. Apparently, he was just shy and wanted to be my friend also but he was jealous that Tae got to be called Tae. I called him Kook since then and all shyness flew out the door. He and Tae were both so energized all the time and both so caring. Today they insisted on accompanying me to the store because they didn’t want me to accidentally overwork myself. Hobi tagged along too, not wanting to be left behind at the house alone.

I was flanked by both Jungkook and Taehyung the moment we entered the store but this is something I've had to get used to. Another thing I’ve had to get used to is that Taehyung was very touchy. His hands are always in contact with some part of my body and today he had wrapped his arm around my waist and his fingers traced small circles into my side as we strolled down the aisles. Usually, I wasn’t someone who liked to be held all the time but with Tae, it never bothered me, it was actually comforting most of the time. Hobi strolled a few feet ahead of us while he was bickering with Taehyung over the chips that were tossed into the cart. The great chip debate happened every time we went to the store, Hoseok had a weird taste when it came to snacks and my other brothers and I had long gotten over it.

Jungkook was hovering on my right- so close that our knuckles brushed as we walked- his presence a constant that I’ve become accustomed to these last few weeks. He was back to his quiet guy persona, it probably would stay this way until we got home. Hobi thought it was funny when we went out in public together- said that Jungkook changes gear into high alert one I became a variable. It was hard for me to imagine him outside of the two versions of him that I knew, the quiet and shy versus the playful and relaxed. At home, Jungkook was the one to cajole me into chasing him throughout the house but whenever I turn a corner too fast he’s there with arms outstretched to catch me.

Taehyung too acted a bit differently when we went out, usually he was a bundle of energy and excitement that couldn’t be contained but in public, he seemed to change into a startling somber man who would then meld himself to my side once out the door. I guess this fed into his protective instincts as well. Tae was the one who was most concerned with my well being in the house. He responded to every grunt and whimper I’ve made since I’ve moved in. He forced me into weekly self-care nights and rushed to prevent me from overworking myself no matter the task. I would think that it was charming normally but because of him, I’ve been banned from dish duty after accidentally cutting my finger after moving in.

My parents had warned me that the three hybrids in the house might change a bit while the pregnancy developed but if I were uncomfortable then I should let them know right away. Hoseok was the same Hoseok as ever- a beam of sunshine in my monotonous life. He has spent increasingly more time outside of our house - going on dates with some mysterious guy. He has stopped teasing me a much this past week or two and instead teases Jungkook and Taehyung twice as much. Jungkook and Tae have obviously turned into my pseudo bodyguards and that can probably be chalked up to their hybrid instincts.

Why else would these two hang onto me so closely? I thought to myself as I focused on a sign for a buy one get one half off deal for oatmeal. Dad liked oats in the morning but there didn’t seem to be any of his favored cinnamon flavors. Taehyung suddenly ripped me out of my peaceful bubble by tugging me into his side abruptly. Jungkook stood in front of me while I could hear Hoseok apologize profusely. Both Taehyung and Jungkook had their faces twisted into scowls as they peered down at the man huddled on the floor. He looked familiar.

His curly blonde hair seemed to be what struck me with a name on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t quite place him, how many blonde men did I know? Not many other than that Jimin guy Hobi brought around since high school. I couldn’t place him until he glanced over where I was peeking out over Jungkook’s shoulder. His eyes were blue, an icy pale blue that was the same color as his. This was Henry’s little brother. Was it Darren? Or maybe David? It was hard to recall as Henry was coles with his family. Especially after their parents divorced and He had been the only child to go live with his dad. I had only met David a few times over the almost six years we had been together.

“Y/n?” He asked, his eyes lighting up in recognition. Hobi- who was interrupted mid apology for ramming into him with the cart- looked back at me with inquisitive eyes. Taehyung tried to pull me closer to his side but this once I resisted and stepped from the overwhelming protection of the Duo.

“David? Last I saw you, you were a scrawny little beanpole.” I teased light-heartedly as I stood next to Hobi. David’s cheeks flushed as he stood up and straightened out his clothes.

“Uh, well, I grew up. It’s been three years so how’s it been going? Henry said you guys split up.” His eyes seemed to be glued to my stomach. My stomach was big, especially for how far along I was at only six months of my pregnancy but I was already passing the size of a watermelon. My hands came up to cradle my stomach.

I forced a smile, “Yeah, we did. It’s been about six months, I think? I’ve been doing good though.”

It was then that my blood ran cold. Rounding the corner behind David was the man I never wanted to see again. Henry. These last few months haven’t fully rid me of the sting of abandonment and no matter how much I’ve been coddled - it could never erase the pain and loneliness that I’ve had to overcome. I could feel my brother tense up beside and his threats to ‘rip out his throat’ came ringing in the back of my head. I calmly reached out and held onto his forearm gently.

Henry’s attention was fully focused on the bakery box in his hands and he only glanced up at his brother. He quickly did a double-take when he noticed that there were five looming figures instead of just the one. He skimmed over the group of strangers until he locked eyes with me. His feet took root and held him back a few feet away as he gawked.

“Baby? That's my baby?” he managed to choke out while his eyes bugged out of his head. David’s jaw dropped and suddenly, with both their gazes trained on me, I felt so much smaller than just a few moments ago. I could feel panic clawing at my throat as it rattled its way out of my chest at the sudden turn of events. That’s until a warm firm hand grasped onto my elbow as the familiar towering presence materialized behind me. Jungkook. His hold quelled my panic almost instantly. I fixed a terse smile at Henry, my face changing a calm disposition.

“No. You were right: there was no way it could be your baby.” I could feel the acid dripping from my lips as I forced a saccharine sweet smile at the asshole.

Henry’s face quickly snapped out of the shocked expression, almost as quickly as his face took on a reddened hue. “So you were a fucking whore and got knocked up by some hybrid? Should have known, your family is way too close to those fucking freaks.” He kept his eyes trained on Jungkook’s hand holding onto me.

“Oh, I knew you were a piece of shit the first time she brought you home.” Hoseok laughed unamused. He abandoned the cart only to stalk towards Henry, stopping with barely six inches left between the two. “The only thing keeping me from tearing you limb from limb right now is the fact that she begged me to, One more comment from your limp-dicked self will be more than enough to break my self-control. This is the last time you’ll ever speak to her or her children. Understood?” Henry nodded quickly with a face painted in fear.

Taehyung stepped forward and turned the cart around. Jungkook tugged me along and rubbed his hand on my arm in comfort. Tae swiped a few boxes of snack cake of the shelf as we hurried away and a sudden ringing sound of a slap rang out through the aisle. No-one turned around. As we approached the lines for check out I could hear the squeaking of Hobi’s sneakers as he ran to catch up with us. His hands replaced Jungkook’s as he tugged me into his chest.

He tucked my head under his chin and held me tightly, so tight that he managed to squeeze out the few tears I was managing to fight back. He only tightened his grasp as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. He let go momentarily to wrench his wallet out of his back pocket so he could exchange it for keys from Jungkook. He pulled me out from under the judging stares of the cashiers and led me to the parking lot. As we neared the car he hugged me closer to his side so he could press his cheek against the top of my head.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No. I’m sorry I let you be with that asshole. I failed as a big brother.” he sighed despondently and I could feel the guilt twisting my stomach into knots.

“No, you’re the best one I got. I’m sorry he said that about you, I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. I love you Hobi, you’re my sunshine.” I cried as I held onto his shirt.

“I know you don’t think of me that way or the guys. I can remember you fighting punks like that at the park growing up. His dumbass will never affect how much I love my snot-nosed baby sister.” he pulled away and leveled me with a soft smile, forcing me to return one.

“Did you hit him? You could get in a lot of trouble.” I bit onto my lip as I imagined the terrible consequences. He could lose his job at the shelter. He could be marked aggressively by the government and taken away. He could be arrested.

His warm soft hands squished my cheeks as he made me face him. “Aw, is our little Y/n worried about her big brother? Don’t worry my princess, bubby didn’t hurt him. His brother slapped the socks off him. I was shocked.” His blinding smile finally returned and could hear a cart being pushed behind us. I turned to see Taehyung standing on the front of the cart with a big smile as he waved to us; Jungkook was running full speed at the handle of the cart.

I laughed at the two idiots as they barely managed to stop before crashing into my car. Taehyung’s hands flew forward to brace himself against the trunk. Jungkook laughed heartily as Taehyung started to yell at him for almost squishing him.

“Kook, are you driving us back?” I asked to save him from the snow leopard. He nodded as Hobi tossed him the keys. Kook popped the trunk while Hobi and Tae tossed in the few bags of groceries. Jungkook steered away from the cart and we all filed into the car wordlessly. I was in the passenger seat with Hobi behind me. There seemed to be a heavy curtain of silence surrounding us all.

“Taehyung, Jungkook, I’m sorry for what Henry said.” I pointedly kept my attention at the fast-changing scenery. They were both silent until I could feel hot breath against my neck. A chin rested on my shoulder while a nose pressed itself between my ear and jawline.

“Why are you sorry? Did you teach him to hate hybrids?” Tae’s deep voice was just barely louder than a whisper but it echoed in my heart. I whipped my head towards him, my eyebrows pinched together harshly, only to see the grin plastered on his face.

“You know I don’t think like that. Don’t tease me like that, I was apologizing because you guys don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. You’re people; kind, caring people.” I glared at him with no heat while his smile only widened.

“We do know, that’s why we weren’t mad. It's something that happens and we can’t help that we’re used to it. We were actually pissed at that asshat.” Jungkook harrumphed in agreement and I could feel the knot loosen in my stomach.

“I’ve been trying to join Team Hate Henry since we moved in and Hoseok hasn’t allowed it. I bet Namjoon will let us in now.” Jungkook smirked back at Hobi who squeaked in protest.

“Namjoon cannot know that we met with him. He would actually kill him.” I interjected, my fear helping me envision Joonie in an orange jumpsuit.

Jungkook side-eyed me before smirking at me, “ Would that be so bad?”

Tag list! just let me know if you want added.

@jelly-fishy-babie @nomimits7 @littlewolfieposts

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

Five Seconds (5/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 15, 2018

The leaves were beginning to change outside the window; the maples turning russet, the birch yellow. Scully felt pendulous and gravid, the child in her belly more active than her previous two combined. Sleep was becoming difficult, but by day they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, safe and unmolested from the dangers that were beginning to feel as though they had never existed at all.

She stretched and left Mulder, half his face obscured by his pillow, his lips soft and pliant in sleep. A fresh pot of decaf awaited her in the kitchen, its automatic timer set by Mulder late last night.

The kids were still asleep, as far as she could tell -- she'd heard Lily come home well after midnight. She'd been up reading anyway when her daughter had popped her head into their bedroom door and whispered "I'm home." The girl had been wearing a small smile and Scully recognized the look. Lily was falling in love.

Will shuffled into the kitchen sleepily, a palm rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He approached Scully where she stood at the counter and put an arm around her shoulder, leaning on her. He still smelled like the sleepy little boy who liked to cuddle into her side to watch nature shows when he was six.

"Morning Mom," he said, taking a snuffly breath. He leaned down and rested his cheek against her head (he was almost as tall as Mulder, though still as skinny as a maypole). Scully wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him in closer. Affection from her kids was getting fewer and farther between now that they were active teenagers. She was determined to enjoy whatever she got.

"Morning," she said, giving his back a little rub, "you're up early."

"Yeah," he said on a yawn. "There's an open rink this morning and a couple of buddies are going. Is it okay if I join them?"

Scully nodded. "Just make sure you tell your dad, too. Know the exits before you go and keep an eye on the crowd."

Will squeezed her once and then let go, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and holding up like James Bond. "Call me Double O Billy," he said and sidled back to his room off of Scully's bemused chuckle.

She spent an hour catching up on email that had been routed through the Gunmen and Darlene -- coded messages that they interpreted and sent to her mother, sister and brothers. Melissa was giving her a hard time about not letting her fly to Europe (where she thought they were) to be her doula when the time came to give birth. She was tempted to send Byers to her sister's house to explain exactly what was happening, but rejected the impulse. Their mother -- the only person other than the Gunmen and the X-Files triumvirate at the FBI who knew their situation (though not their location for her own protection) -- would talk her down eventually.

Mulder came padding up behind her as she closed the laptop and she felt a soft, drawn-out kiss on the side of her neck.

"Morning," he mumbled into her skin.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, then turned to receive his kiss.

"Morning," she said.

"I’ll be back shortly. I'm going to drop Billy off at the ice complex and then take Lil to campus -- she suddenly started liking football."

"I think it's the company rather than the sport," Scully said, turning in her chair to face him.

"...I'm going to choose to believe my version," he said.

Scully reached out and linked their fingers briefly. "Tell her to be careful," she said, "she's spending a lot of time out of the house."

Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. "I will," he said, "and when I get back, I have a few ideas for how we can spend our child-free afternoon." He waggled his eyebrows at her and let go, backing out of the room like the charmer he was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“So why UVA?” Travis asked her. He had his head propped up on an elbow and his other hand was wrapped loosely around her foot, his thumb rubbing circles into her arch. She was on the couch in his dorm room and he was on the floor -- she’d been helping him study for mid-terms. They had been officially dating for five weeks and had seen each other at least every other day in that time. He’d introduced her to a couple of friends as his girlfriend.

“What?” she asked. It was hard enough to concentrate while getting a foot massage, and she’d been staring at the index cards in front of her, trying to find a question that would stump him.

“Why are you going to UVA? Brain like yours, you could have gone anywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why there.”

“Other than the in-state tuition?” She had told him that they’d moved from Virginia, but hadn’t elaborated.

“Other than that,” he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to. When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally get called in to consult there and he would take me with him. I kinda fell in love with it.”

“What did your dad consult on?” he asked, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Travis tapped her other leg, and she switched feet, silencing a groan when his knuckle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She had purposely avoided mentioning her family much and debated how much was safe to share.

“UVA has a Department of Perceptual Studies,” she said, and she saw him tilt his head in question.

“A department of what?”

“Perceptual studies,” she said, smiling, “it’s a research group devoted to the investigation of phenomena that challenge mainstream scientific paradigms regarding the nature of the mind/brain relationship.” Travis stopped rubbing her foot and looked at her. She went on, further quoting her dad’s friend Dr. Stevenson: “Their mission is the scientific empirical investigation of phenomena that suggest that currently accepted scientific assumptions and theories about the nature of mind or consciousness, and its relation to matter, may be incomplete.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I shit you not.”

“What kind of phenomena?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tried not to smile, “ESP, poltergeists, near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, claimed memories of past lives.”

“And what did they want with your father?” he asked, sitting up.

She shrugged. “He’s a shrink,” she said, being deliberately vague.

“This is an accredited university?” He teased her. She kicked at him, and he ducked out of the way and laughed, then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I myself had an out-of-body experience with Trudy Carmichael under the bleachers when I was sixteen. Pretty sure I saw through time.”

Lily chuckled, then playfully challenged: “Do I need to worry about this Trudy Carmichael?”

“I doubt it,” he said, hanging his head, “I lost my virginity, and she lost my number. Not my finest hour.”

“A whole hour?,” Lily said wryly.

“One way to find out.”

He looked at her then and she looked back. The moment was charged and sat in between them. The truth was, Lily was still a virgin. She and Travis had messed around, but fairly innocently, and she’d demurred on action below the waist/under the clothes. “I’m not waiting for marriage,” she’d told him a few weeks back, but she did want to wait for love. If only she knew what that felt like.

“Hey, Frisbee,” Travis said when she didn’t say anything, “please don’t take this as a negotiation tactic -- you’ve been clear on your limits and I totally respect that -- and with the full understanding that you don’t need a reason, and you do you and all that -- but… do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asked, clarifying.

“When I say ‘no pressure,’ I mean it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her foot.

Lily looked around his sloppy dorm room. There were clothes strewn about, though mostly out of the way— socks balled up near the laundry hamper, a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair. The wooden loft that held his bed was posted around the couch, made of flimsy-looking two-by-fours, and did not look like it could hold his weight, much less hers in addition, and remained untried (though Travis swore it had passed inspection). His desk was more fastidiously kept, a reflection of his mind, a structured order in the midst of chaos. He was kind and smart. His smile could make her insides go liquid.

“Honestly?” she finally said, “it’s my parents.”

“Super religious?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from laughing. “No, it’s… My parents love each other. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Their love is like… romance film love. It’s practically written in the stars.”

He looked at her contemplatively. “That’s a lot to live up to,” he said. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, then, “no.” It was and it wasn’t. She didn’t know if there was a love out there that could compare, she suspected there wasn’t. Her real hang-up, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since she found her father’s first wedding picture in their attic -- was that her father had obviously made a mistake. What if she did too?

She laughed, annoyed at herself. This wasn’t Regency England. Sex didn’t mean marriage. It didn’t even necessarily mean love. Still...

“Come on,” she said, sitting up and grabbing for his class notes, “this bio exam isn’t going to take itself.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound woke her. Her hips were in agony and sleeping was difficult, so initially she was more annoyed than anything; she could rarely line up more than 90 minutes straight of deep slumber. And then she heard it again.

She reached over, squeezed Mulder's bicep until she heard him sniff sharply awake and silently, pulled out the sidearm she kept inside her bedside table. Mulder, slipping out of bed without a word, pulled out his own gun and went to the door. He held up a hand, trying to tell Scully to stay back, but she shook her head angrily -- she would have his back whether he liked it or not.

When he moved into the hallway, she stepped on the back of his heel and he ended up ramming his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore low under his breath. They were out of sync.

She watched as he put his head into the kids rooms as he made his way down the hallway, nodding at her that they were both accounted for. One more thunk from the living room.

He sidled up to the wall that led to the room and backed up against it. He mouthed one-two-three and they went in, but where she usually went low and he went high, this time they rammed shoulders and stumbled into the room. Mulder flicked on the light when she finally had her weapon aimed true.

There, sitting on a high bookshelf sat Apgar, her black tail swishing merrily. Maintaining eye contact, she swiped one more of the professor's knick-knacks off the shelf and onto the floor.

Mulder dropped his weapon and heaved a sigh, tipping his head back in frustration. "Fucking cat," he hissed.

Mission completed, Apgar jumped down with a thump and weaved a figure eight between Mulder's legs.

"She must be hungry," Scully said.

"Hangry was invented by cats," Mulder mumbled, reaching down to pet the cat with his free hand.

"Our tactical coordination was atrocious," Scully said, flicking the light back off and holding her gun at her hip.

"Yes," Mulder agreed.

"When was the last time you went to the range?" she asked.

"It's been months," he said tiredly.

"We're going tomorrow," Scully said. Mulder knew better than to argue.

XxX

There were more than a few Molon Labe bumper stickers in the parking lot. Scully had to remind herself that they were in Michigan Militia territory. "Michitucky," she'd heard it called by a few guys at the Bureau. Nevertheless, she pulled up to the firing range with fire in her blood. She might not share their politics, but she would share their space, and show most of them up to boot.

They signed in and bought ammunition. She got a few extra looks for being a visibly pregnant woman, but most of the men (and they were all men) who were at the range gave her begrudging looks of approval. Mulder stood, standing straighter and closer than normal, practically growling at anyone who got too close. She had to admit that his fierce protective nature was more than a turn-on.

The range was outdoors -- different than what they were used to at Quantico. And where there were metal tables and dividers and state of the art equipment at the government facility, here it was all beat-to-shit plywood tables and sunburnt grass littered with shell casings and old ear plugs. They took the lane at the end.

They both loaded and checked their weapons, snugged earmuffs over their heads.

"You want to go first?" Mulder asked, double checking the safety on his pistol and setting it on the table behind their station.

"I can do that," Scully said, looking down at her Sig.

"Care for a little wager?" her husband asked.

"You can't afford me, Dr. Mulder," she said, admiring the still-lanky line of his physique.

He raised his eyebrows, and leaned back against the tall wobbly table. "Oh-ho," he said, "I suppose that depends on the currency." He had a smug look about him that she wanted to wipe off his face. She was a better marksman and more competitive than anyone gave her credit for.

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Dishes?" he offered, "Laundry?"

"We had children for the menial labor," she challenged, "I can win this with one hand tied behind my back. Make it interesting for me."

He licked his lips. She had him.

"I liked the part about 'hands behind the back,'" he said, "Winner decides who wears the handcuffs."

"You're not exactly incentivizing this, Mulder."

He had a flushed look about him; his nostrils flared.

"Prove it," he said, and she felt a flush. Second trimester hormones could be a beautiful thing, she mused.

It took her several rounds before she got back into the groove. It actually had been too long since she'd practiced and she was rusty. Considering their current situation, she ought not to let it happen again. Her last few rounds were dead center. Once her clip was empty, she cleared her weapon and stepped back.

Mulder's turn.

He wasn't quite as out of practice as she was initially, which irritated her to no end. However, his fourth and fifth shots were a bit wide, and he ended around the edges.

When he was clear, she stepped back up and took a bracing breath. She raised her weapon and fired rapidly; all her shots were center mass except the last two, which she swung up and finished with perfect shots to the head of the paper dummy.

When Mulder stepped forward for his turn, she nudged him.

"How big would you say the back of the Yukon is?'" she asked casually.

His first three shots went wide.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 17, 2018

“Mom?” Lily asked. There was a hesitancy in her voice that made Scully look up from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner. “How did you know you loved Dad?”

Scully set the knife down and turned toward her daughter. “That’s a big question, Lil.”

“What’s a big question?” Mulder came breezing into the kitchen, shooting Scully an intrigued look.

Scully suspected something was up, but didn’t want to embarrass their daughter. Lily had always had an inquisitive streak and would occasionally come to Scully with problems or questions, but she was apt to clam up when pressed.

“Lily was asking me about how I fell in love with you,” Scully said, trying to catch Mulder’s eye.

“It was the day she met me, no doubt,” Mulder said. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and shined it on his sleeve before taking a snappy bite. “I’m catnip to the ladies,” he said around the mouthful. Lily smiled. Scully rolled her eyes.

“Suddenly, I’m struggling to remember,” Scully said with mock derision. Mulder gave her a cheeky grin.

“Did you know right away?” Lily asked.

Scully paused. “Not… Not right away,” she said thoughtfully.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents. “I guess it was a long time ago, huh.”

“Love in a time of sarsaparilla,” Mulder said dreamily. Scully shook her head and he caught her eye. “It wasn’t that long ago, Lil,“ he went on, and Scully felt the low bloom of feeling that always accompanied a look from her husband. For as long as she lived, she would always remember the first time she felt it; on the Tooms case, when he’d hooked his finger in her necklace and pulled.

“No, what I mean is… it was complicated,” Scully clarified.

Lily nodded and turned to her father. “You were married. Before Mom.”

“Yes,” Mulder said.

“Did you love her? Your ex wife?”

“I thought I did.”

“When did you figure out that you didn’t?” Lily asked.

“When I met your Mom,” Mulder said.

“So what you felt with Mom…”

“... was so much bigger than I was, that I couldn’t contain it.”

Scully felt her eyes well up. Mulder still sometimes had the ability to make her feel things all the way down to her toes.

Lily smiled, but looked pensive.

"But you thought you loved this other woman? I mean, enough to marry her?" she asked.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "What are you asking, Lil?"

Lily shook her head, her cheeks pink. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked out of the room.

“Oh boy,” said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Travis,” said Scully. “She’s trying to figure it all out.”

“Jesus, he didn’t propose, did he?” Mulder asked. The look on his face was enough to make her laugh, but she held it in.

Scully turned fully to Mulder and leaned back against the countertop, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked. Mulder nodded. “She’s trying to decide whether or when to...” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Mulder looked at her, still not understanding. Scully gave him the stare of the dotard husband.

“Mulder…” she said, glaring hard.

Realization dawned and Mulder swallowed. “I should have had that boy killed,” he said.

Scully turned back to the vegetables she’d been chopping. “Let’s refrain from wetwork while we’re on the lam.”

“I make no promises,” he said, and slid up behind her, stepping in close and putting his hands on her waist.

“I had the guys check him out by way of Darlene,” Scully said. “He is who he says he is. And he seems like a decent kid. Let’s let her navigate this on her own, huh?” She felt his fingers squeeze and then they drifted down to rest on her hips.

“I don’t like it,” he mumbled, and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” she said. “But you do have to accept it, and trust that we raised her to make these decisions for herself.” She remembered being nineteen and in college and in love for the first time. “You want to hear about Kevin McAvoy, my freshman year boyfriend?”

Mulder squeezed his fingers again and then started to turn her slowly toward him. She set down the knife on the counter and let him. His head was bent toward her and she felt his breath fan her face.

“No,” he said, leaning even more into her personal space.

“I was his Little Red Corvette,” she said playfully, tipping her head back in challenge. He smiled, but she saw something rough pass through his eyes. “He’d put on Prince and --”

Mulder leaned down and silenced her with a kiss.

XxXxXxXxXxX

In her room, Lily sat on the bed, the can of soda from the fridge sitting unopened on her bedside table. Condensation beaded on the side of it, sliding down silently to pool at the base, unnoticed.

Crusher liked to sleep on her pillow, and had left a black felted indent in the feathers, which Lily brushed away and fluffed. She looked about the room. Not much about it spoke of the young woman who slept there and had for months; no posters on the walls, no pennants hanging or pictures of friends. It was a sterile guest room decorated with the mute tones of an unmarried 60-something and lately it had been making her feel like she wasn't even herself.

She stood and walked to the desk, the one place she deposited her things. Her wallet, the phone Darlene had given her that she rarely used and usually kept switched off. Her purse was half hanging off -- likely knocked into such a position by a passing cat -- and when she righted it, she noticed the picture that sat under it. The photo of her father and an unfamiliar brunette, who's face conveyed confidence -- almost a smugness -- and a certain charm.

She stared at the picture. And she wondered.

XxX

October 20, 2018

Lily glanced over her shoulder when she sat, feeling as though she were doing something illegal, something fraught.

No one really used the computer labs anymore -- if you needed to, you could write an entire paper on your phone, though Lily found the practice ridiculous and immature. Nevertheless, there were one or two students sitting at the various desktops around the small library lab, and she checked to make sure no one was paying attention to what she was doing.

She tried to be careful. She had told Travis that she was hoping to log into the university's network to prep for some of the classes she’d be taking at UVA next semester and so she was using his password and login information. She'd checked to make sure there were no cameras on the area where she sat, and that her back was to the one aimed at the larger area.

With a bracing breath, she logged on.

It was surprising what you could find with a simple Google search, and the commonwealth of Virginia's vital records office would send you a copy of any marriage certificate for a fee of $45. Knowing better than to use a credit card, she'd opted for a more in depth search, and found what she was looking for in the Daily Press -- the local newspaper of record in Newport News, Virginia.

It was a wedding announcement, complete with two pictures -- one, the same picture she'd found in her parent's attic and the other of a similar style -- of Fox William Mulder and Lauren Edith Williams, married on August 17th, 1988. According to the article, Lauren had been a recent graduate of Georgetown University and had been employed at Schuster and McClure, a PR firm in the District of Columbia.

Lily looked at the new photograph on the screen before her. Her father looked so young. Only a few years older than herself. Lauren was pretty, had perfect posture, and was staring into the camera like a dare; her dress was all frills and white froth, the material of the dress ruched in large poofs at the shoulders, a crown of satin flowers around the lush brunette curls on her head. She looked like someone Lily wouldn't have dared talk to back in high school. She looked nothing like Lily's mother.

Lauren Edith Williams, she wrote down, and stared at the paper in front of her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 21, 2018

Lily was on the bus when she noticed him. It was his age that first drew her attention. Most everyone that rode this route (it went right into campus) was either a student or a professor, and something about him seemed the antithesis of scholarly. He had a sharp face, was dressed in loose clothing, a plain, black ball cap pulled low over his head. His knee bounced where he sat. She thought she could make out a tattoo curling onto the skin under the sleeve of his jacket. He could have been custodial staff for all she knew, but her parents had raised her to trust her instincts, and something inside of her pinged.

He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction, but she reached up and pulled the cord that requested a stop anyway, keeping him in her periphery when the bus rolled to the next stop. She was five blocks further away than she would have liked -- she was supposed to meet Travis just off campus for lunch. The man didn't move or rise from his seat. Nevertheless, she ducked out of the back door and onto the sidewalk, shouldering her purse and pretending to look at her phone. Only when the bus left with the man still on it would she exhale. The bus had just started to roll forward when it chirped to a stop and the front doors opened. The man in the cap trotted down the steps and onto the sidewalk, glancing briefly at her before turning and walking slowly west. Adrenaline awash in her bloodstream, she turned east.

The man had had a nondescript face. He was of average height and build, not someone you'd notice. She wracked her brain trying to remember when or if she'd seen him before, and had a hazy recollection of someone who might have been him: waiting outside of Travis's dorm when she'd come to visit him a couple days prior, or maybe even standing behind her in line at a coffee shop the day before. She should have been paying closer attention. Her parents had taught her to pay closer attention. Up until she'd done a search on her father and his ex-wife, she had. Lily silently cursed at herself.

She looked at her reflection in the shop windows along Grand River Avenue, trying to catch a glimpse behind her. She caught movement, but there were plenty of other people walking up and down the sidewalk. She needed a better look.

She swung up the stairs of the Student Union when she came to it a moment later, remembering walking in with her brother and dad only the month before, and felt the sharp pang of guilt.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped to retie her shoe, glancing back behind her as she did so. The man in the cap was there, and had paused a ways away, looking down at his phone. Lily finished fiddling with her shoe and casually walked to the door, holding it open for a girl who was coming out, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so. Through the large doorway was a wide set of stairs going both up and down. When the door closed behind her, she bolted down the stairs to her right. There were a number of study spaces and she could pass through each one fairly quickly -- the day was busy and there were students everywhere; if she was lucky she could get lost in the crowd.

She ducked through the main lounge and past the small coffee shop on the lower level, looking behind her. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean he still wasn't coming. Seeing the full racks of clothing in the Spirit Shop across the hallway, she went inside, bending down to pretend to look at a few items on the bottom shelf.

Peering through underneath the hanging shirts, she watched as the man in the black cap came down the hallway outside of the shop and paused, turning toward it. Her heart leapt to her throat. He did a slow turn and then turned to keep walking. She kept her head down.

From the corner of her eye she caught her own reflection in the mirror outside the tiny dressing room -- she was wearing a bright blue shirt and her hair -- as bright and reflective as a stop sign, and always a part of herself she was fond of -- would give her away.

She stood, scanning the hallway outside the shop, and then she hastily pulled a green knit cap off a nearby shelf and pulled the tag off, shoving it over her head and tucking her hair up under it as quickly as she could. She grabbed a large tee shirt off the rack nearest her and took it plus the hat's tag to the counter, pulling some cash that her parents always had her carry out and plunking it on the counter.

"I don't need a receipt, thanks," she told the young woman helping her, and turned away.

"But what about your change?" the girl called after her.

"Tip jar," she said, turning back and keeping her voice low.

Once outside the store, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and made her way for the lower level exit that emptied onto campus. Seeing no one behind her, she took the steps out as fast as they would carry her and ran.

XxX

Darlene narrowed her eyes at Lily, and opened the door. “Quickly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily said, as Darlene let her into the house, peering around the block. “I didn’t want to use the phone.”

“I get it,” Darlene replied as she ushered Lily into her kitchen, where Lily sank onto one of the stools that sat before the peninsula of the counter.

"You want a lemonade or something, kiddo?" Darlene asked, leaning forward against the counter herself and giving Lily an expectant look -- there was more to it than just polite hospitality.

"No, thanks," Lily said, feeling the weight of Darlene's gaze and her own guilt in equal measure.

"Did you do something stupid?" Darlene asked outright and Lily, taken aback, sat up straighter, but didn't answer, thus confirming Darlene's clear suspicion. "How bad?"

"I think they found us."

Darlene huffed a breath. "Elaborate," she said.

"I... I ran a search. A couple days ago, in the university library. I was careful, but maybe not careful enough."

"What did you search?"

"My dad's ex-wife."

Darlene gave a low whistle. "Kiddo," she said, a statement.

"I know."

"Have you considered just asking him about her?"

Lily hugged herself.

"I have. I did. But… I wanted to know. For me. I don't want his version of this woman. I wanted to see for myself who she was. Is."

Darlene moved to the window and peered out, lowering the blinds as she did so. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lily once again felt a pang of guilt. She looked down. "Not really."

Darlene moved around the counter to a sideboard table on the dining room side of the counter and began shuffling through a drawer.

"What makes you think they found you?" she asked.

"I think there's someone following me," Lily said, "I think maybe I’ve seen him a couple of times on campus, but I don’t know. I lost him and came here."

"Just one someone?"

Lily began to second guess herself.

"I think so?"

When Darlene straightened from the sideboard she was holding a pistol.

"Call your father right now, and tell him to get over here. Armed." Darlene's words were cold and calm. Lily's stomach dropped in her gut.

She reached for Darlene's phone, a relic from another time which hung on the wall, its cord coiled like a snake.

Darlene walked to the sliding glass door as she dialed the numbers, each tone sounding long and drawn out, Darlene pulled the long curtains closed with a snap.

"Dad?" Lily said, when Mulder answered.

"Hey Lil!" he sounded so relaxed, excited just to talk to her though he'd seen her that morning.

"Dad, I'm at Darlene's. She says to get over here. She said to bring your gun."

She heard his sharp inhale. “I’m coming,” he said, and then she heard a dial tone.

"Lily," said Darlene, walking over to her computer, which was booted up and sitting on her dining room table, cords snaking out of it and across the floor. She quickly typed hunt-and-peck with her right hand, the gun still clutched in her left. "I want you to go into the top right drawer in my dresser. In a small lockbox, code 9-10-9-3, you'll find an old Nokia phone. It should be fully charged. It’s untraceable. Do not turn it on. Take it. Put it somewhere safe -- your bra or your sock or underwear. Then get under my bed."

Lily walked to the hallway, her body on autopilot, her heart hammering and her blood roaring in her veins.

Darlene finished typing, clicked a few things with her mouse and then peeked an eye out the closed curtain toward the backyard, tapping the gun against the side of her thigh.

Pausing in the hallway, Lily turned back to Darlene.

"Is someone coming?" Lily asked.

"Kid," Darlene said, shooting her a look, "they're already here."

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #shits getting real for the mulder family #fanfic #XF #my fic

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mr-and-mr-dameron · 3 years

Text

Learning to love ALL of Star Wars

I’ve grown a lot the past few years, and with that I’ve came to appreciate a lot more things about what I love. I’ve went from bitter and spiteful about what I don't have to appreciating what I do have, and at the centre of that storm is Star Wars. A franchise I’ve only really been invested in the last year.

The beginning

So I was always a “fan” of Star Wars, sure. I grew up with the prequels and I was excited when Disney was releasing their new movies. But the past year is where I really got invested and found a whole new love for the franchise. And strangely enough, it was through the simplicity of Lego. You see, I started watching videos by Brickvault about Lego Star Wars minifigures, and something about seeing the toys I loved as a kid from a modern perspective took me right back to wooshing my Jedi starfighter around my room. From there, I started moving away from Lego and dipped my toe in theories, lore videos and eventually discussion and review videos, the turning point being Cosmonaught Variety Hour. Now, I have some opinions on the guy now, but Cosmonaught was perfect for me at the time. He was opinionated, entertaining, but most importantly knew his shit, and I liked that. His videos on Star Wars are pretty good, and really helped form my opinions back then... In a bad way... Now I’ll make this clear, this is NOT on Cosmonaught, it was just how impressionable I was as a person back then. I’m just saying how his video affected me on a personal level. Up to this point I didn’t really understand the hate for the prequels besides the fact they were “bad movies” and “people don’t like them”. Cosmonaughts video on the prequels gave me those reasons, and I finally felt like I got the distaste for those films. However, like they say... A little knowledge can be dangerous, and boy was I about to learn that lesson the hard way...

The fall

So here I am, knower of all things, the CORRECT things... I’ve watched my fair share of videos from a handful of sources, I know my shit. I’m making my opinions known, and I’ve become that friend. But whats this! A dissenting opinion!? My boyfriend actually likes the prequels more than the Original Trilogy!? SACRALAGE!! I must prove him wrong! And prove him wrong I...! Did not... In fact, something rather bizarre happened... He convinced me. I was stubborn at first, but I’ll admit, my wall got broken down at long last. He (bless his soul for dealing with me) managed to get through to me exactly what it was he loved about those films, and it wasn’t just the nostalgia. I had always seen the politics of the Galaxy like most other people did, some boring preachy nonsense that had no place in Star Wars, but I came around to it. Granted with a little help from the Clone Wars I managed to piece together just what it was there was to like about these films... I wont say they’re perfect, far from it. But internally they have so much more going on compared to the Original Trilogy. The Era has some of the most fun and expandable concepts and ideas in all of Star Wars, and while it may not be as iconic, the visual artstyle of it all is still its own recognizable brand of Star Wars. And almost like magic (or my phone spying on me) youtube started recommending videos that disagreed with Cosmonaught, and I got my first taste of how his video wasn’t as sound as I thought. Now as a side note: I still like Cosmonaught. He’s a funny guy who like I said knows his shit, but he obviously isnt the be all end all right and wrong which I hadn’t quite learned. I can enjoy his content while disagreeing with it, and I think thats just fine. I find myself disagreeing with a lot of creators I watch now and he’s just joined them. But hang on, we’re missing something here... A certain... Mouse? Perhaps?

The dark times... The Disney Empire...

So hop back to modern day for a sec, this timeline pretty much lines up with the end of the Disney movies right? So how do I feel about those? Well... When the first three came out, I liked them. Like everyone else I was loving new Star Wars. As a young art student, I loved Rogue One and TLJ for their stunning visuals, deeper themes and their attempt at something new and fresh. I loved the throne room fight scene, the light speed ram and how Rogue One had such a bitter sweet ending. But ho ho no one else felt that way! And whether it be peer pressure or my love of dumpster fires my opinions changed like that. I laughed at the Rose Tico and Snoke memes, I hated the Canto Bight subplot and poor Luke being butchered on screen like that, and then there's Rey... Solo came and passed. I refused to go see it, as I did with TROS which came out around the time I was getting back into Lego, and along with the prequels I was watching video essay upon video essay about why the sequels sucked and how to rewrite them. Some of them coming from a positive place, others... Not so much.. And so my hatred for them grew as I got back into the franchise and came to appreciate the originals for what they done great, and loathing the new films for lacking that same spark. And unlike the prequels, I didn’t really get enough pushback to change my mind. But what I did get was the full brunt of spite and hate the fans had for these new films, and honestly? It was depressing.

Hate leads to suffering.

I finally reached my rock bottom. I genuinely reached a point where I debated giving up Star Wars for the sheer amount of negative feelings I had towards the state of the franchise (which might I add is valid if you ever end up feeling that way about something you’re meant to be enjoying).

I struggled to get past how Disney “ruined” Star Wars, and clearly nothing was going to change. 40 Years of history had been wiped out and the new timeline was a contorted mess, and the amount of discourse and disagreements in the franchise honestly did not help at all.

Nothing was simple, everything had a catch. You like how Kylo was irredeemable in TLJ? Well he’s redeemed in TROS. TFA is a fun film but it sets up a lot of the things people hated about the sequels so you cant even just head canon that the other two never happened. And then...

Saved by Lego

There was Lego, making the best of a bad situation. It didnt care if you didn’t like that Palpatine was back (somehow), it didn’t care about the clunky prequel dialog, and it didn’t care about the thousands of retcons from the entierety of the franchises existence.

Whether by contractual force or not: It was pure, distilled Star Wars.

I loved how a set with Rey could stand beside a set with OT Luke and thats just how it was. It put into context that this was reality, and I could either be bitter about what could have been or accept what was, which wasn’t easy and I’m still not really over it. But I reached a place where I could accept the fun in all of Star Wars, that I liked how some of these characters looked, that these characters all existed in one Galaxy, and it was nice.

And it led me straight back into...

Learning to love Star Wars

One of the most important lessons I learned in the past year was trust your gut. Sure, hear out other peoples take on something, and if it changes your opinion all the more power to you. But don’t fight the fact you felt something in that initial reaction. I liked the prequels as a kid, so why don’t I as an adult? Is it because i outgrew them and see them for the disasters they are? Or is it because a someone who watched them as a fully grown adult that grew up with the OT was underwhelmed?

And to that extent... I rewatched TFA and TLJ with an open mind and an open heart. The result?

Im indifferent towards TFA. It has fun character moments and has a decent adventure, for what it is its good. But I actually found myself enjoying TLJ after all these years of hating on it. I liked their take on Luke, I liked the mutiny subplot, it didnt push the story forward leaps and bounds but it was a more methodical take on the franchise and for the I liked it. It wasn’t perfect, its biggest flaw is how bleak it can feel and its lack of doing anything interesting with its setting, but it does do a fair amount of decent things and I’ve come to appreciate it for that.

I’m planning to watch TROS at long last soon, so maybe I’ll update it here. But what I will say is that I hope Lucasfilm don’t give up on the sequel era and characters quite yet. There is still a lot to love here as much as you may not like it, and I hope that they can explore more interesting meaningful themes and narratives in external media that they couldn’t in mainline films cough cough Stormpilot cough cough...

I know not everyone will agree with how I feel now, heck a lot of my problems I had still stand, but I’m at peace with it all now. I just want to sit back and enjoy this franchise for what it is. While I might not forgive Disney for its severe mishandling of... everything (a rant for another time) I’m content just not them supporting to the best of ability.

Star Wars is in such a unique position where each generation has a different stance and appreciation for different parts within the franchise. The prequels were hated until its fans grew up and started defending it, The Clone Wars was hated until its fans grew up and started defending it, and the sequels ended last year, their fans haven’t quite got their voice yet. But I’m interested to hear what they have to say.

#star wars #star wars trilogy #self reflection #thoughts #meta commentary #star wars prequels #Star Wars Sequels #lego star wars #my post

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

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The Perfect Pair

Warnings: swearing, violence, angst

Pairing: Loki x OFC

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Chapter 6: Without You

(Loki POV)

I watched her slump down as she returned to her body; I ached to touch her, to feel her soft skin for just a moment. Months of only getting to see her have been torture, and all I wanted was to hold Violet, and it physically pains me not to sometimes. “That was surprisingly beautiful, brother,” Thor’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. “I’m not surprised you were listening,” I grunted, keeping my eyes on the floor. “It’s horrible to lie to her brother,” Thor said smugly, pacing outside my cell. “I’m not surprised you think I’m lying. At the same time, I don’t care if you believe it or not,” I shot him a dirty look. “Clean yourself up; we are leaving,” Thor sighed, crossing his arms. “I want to see her before we go,” I locked eyes with my brother. “Loki –“ Thor huffed but stopped talking when I raised a hand. “I don’t care; I want to see her once. End of story,” I got to my feet, blinking away my disheveled appearance. “2 minutes,” Thor sighed, irritation dancing through his eyes. Thor nodded to the guards, and a break in the orange barrier appeared; I met Thor at the entrance, turning towards Violet’s cell. The guard hesitated, but Thor nodded again; the barrier opened enough for me to slip in. Violet was passed out; the energy it took for her to sit with me was taking its toll. Her body tensed momentarily, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “I do love you, darling, in my own twisted way. I’ll find my way back to you,” I mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. My legs carried me to the door of her cell, away from the feeling of being home; I glanced at her one more time before joining Thor again.

***

(Violet POV)

“I do love you, darling, in my own twisted way. I’ll find my way back to you.” Loki smiled down at me; a gentle breeze tousled his hair, the sun reflecting off the striking green of his eyes. My eyes fell shut as his lips pressed to my forehead, a content feeling washing over me.

My eyes shot open instantly, and tears stung the corners of my eyes. It felt so real, and it felt like Loki was right here; I quickly turned my head, seeing his cell empty. Tears rolled down my cheeks, the sinking feeling that I may never see Loki again was flowing over me in waves. I sunk down in my bed, letting the pain loll me back to sleep, dreaming of a time when Loki was at my side. /// I listened to the low hum of the orange barrier around me; what seems like days had passed since I had seen Loki or Thor. The empty feeling engulfing me never subsided; one day, it got so intense, it felt like someone rammed a blade through my chest. My hours consciousness consisted of thinking about how I could escape while my dreams were filled with memories of Loki; I woke up feeling lonelier every time. “Violet?” I jumped at the soft voice. My eyes found Thor standing outside my cell a few seconds later; pain etched all over his face. The orange barrier opened, letting him slide into my cell, his towering form making me feel even smaller. “Hello Thor,” I hesitantly said, moving to a sitting position. “Hi,” he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly. “Where’s Loki?” I whispered, already knowing I wasn’t going to like the answer. “...he’s gone,” his voice cracked, a single tear rolling down his face. It felt like someone punched me in the stomach; I doubled over, my lungs tightening like someone squeezed the air out of them. “I’m sorry,” Thor whispered, moving to sit on my bed. He lifted his arm, hesitating before pulling me to his side; the small gesture broke the dam, tears started flowing. “How?” I croaked. “Don’t dwell on that. It’s not important; just know he loved you,” Thor mumbled, rubbing my arm. “You didn’t think he actually did,” I snorted, but it sounded more like I was choking back a sob. “He changed my mind. He died saving my love. He sacrificed his happiness for mine.” Thor’s voice cracked a few times, his head falling forward. “I always knew there was good in there somewhere. He isn’t...wasn’t, as evil as he insisted,” I mumbled, a sad smile tugging at my lips; tears falling onto my hands. “His funeral is tomorrow. I’ll come to get you before so you can get ready,” Thor sighed, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m allowed to go?” I looked up at him finally, his face a few inches from mine. “Yes, I convinced Odin to let you come. He wasn’t too happy, but he agreed,” Thor smiled slightly. “Thank you.” I smiled back at him, appreciating his kindness. “You deserve to say goodbye to your love,” he tried to smile again, tears rolling down his face again. “I don’t know how,” I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder. “You may have helped with the incidents in New York, but I don’t think you’re as bad as you make yourself out to be either. I’ve seen a softer side to you the longer you’ve been in here. I saw a softer side of my brother that you brought out of him. I may not have always been kind to you, but my brother loved you. I want to grant his dying wish,” I felt the vibrations of his words through his shoulder. “What was it?” I asked, staring off into space. “He wanted you to be happy,” Thor sighed. “So I was hoping you would consider working in the castle. Although Odin insists you have to wear something that cancels your magic. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the closest I can come to granting his wish. It’s better than being stuck here.” Thor’s breath hit my forehead as he spoke. “There’s no point. I’d rather you just kill me,” I stammered as another wave of sadness ran through me. “I can’t do that,” Thor sighed again, squeezing me closer. “Please, it’ll hurt less than this,” I stuttered, my voice breaking as my body slumped into Thor again. “I’m sorry,” Thor whispered again. We sat in my cell for what felt like an eternity, crying, hurting; Thor kept me pressed to his side the entire time, quite literally holding me together as my heart broke, something I never thought possible. “Get some sleep,” Thor whispered sometime later. “I guess I’ll take it. Working in the castle,” I breathed, a numb feeling settling around me. “I know,” Thor stated. “I’ll be back for you in the morning,” Thor whispered; he pressed a gentle kiss in my hair, surprising me. He squeezed my shoulder one last time before slipping out of my cell, heading back to the surface. I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like I was trapped underwater, struggling to pull air into my lungs as I drifted to sleep.

///

Loki’s funeral was short and straightforward; his body was missing, so it didn’t really feel like a proper funeral. I could tell Odin didn’t even want to have a funeral, but he couldn’t get away with ignoring Loki’s death. My soul ached as I watched the ceremony, unshed tears catching the flicker of the lanterns nearby. After Loki’s funeral, Thor brought me to a small room in the worker’s wing of the castle. “This is your room. Clothes are in the dresser, and please don’t try to take the bracelets off. Odin will throw you in a cell again if you even try,” Thor sighed, eyeing the metal clasped around both of your wrists. “Actually, I don’t think you can take them off yourself,” Thor mumbled to himself. “Thank you, Thor. You’ve been nicer to me than I deserve,” I sighed, giving him a tight smile. “Probably, but I don’t see the evil in you. Please let me know if you need anything,” Thor said before walking out, closing my door behind him. I changed into a simple maid’s dress, pulling my raven black hair into a tight knot on top of my head before finding the woman I was to report to. Before I could leave my room, a quiet knock pulled me from my thoughts; a small, frail woman entered a few seconds later. “Hello dear, you must be Prince Loki’s beloved,” she smiled warmly at me. “Yes, was,” I dryly stated, everting my eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss, dear; I know how hard it is. My name is Frode, you will report to me for your duties. I can also be a good listener if you need to talk. I lost my husband a few years back,” she gave me a half-smile, reaching for my hand. “Thank you. Where am I to start?” I asked, meeting her kind eyes again. “We are going to set up for dinner tonight,” she pulled me towards the door and into the hall.

***

(Loki’s POV)

Suddenly air filled my lungs; I shot into a sitting position, gasping raggedly, clawing at my chest. As my breathing evened out, I look around the Dark World, seeing a single Asgardian guard searching for something; perfect. The guard had his back to me as he shifted dirt around; I materialized a small dagger as I stepped closer. I slammed the dagger into the guard’s neck, twisting for good measure; the guard slumped forward, dying before he realized what happened. I waved my hand in front of myself, feeling the magic waft over me as I took on the likeness of the guard; I looked down at my arms, admiring my handy work. A smile pulled at my lips as I grabbed the guard’s weapon, calling for Heimdall to bring me home.

***

(Violet’s POV)

1 month later I finally collapsed on my tiny, lumpy bed; my muscles still ached from the sudden increase in activity. Sitting in a cell for months left me feel the effects of the lack of exercise; I groaned as I sprawled out on my bed. “Yeah, death would be better than this,” I grumbled at the ceiling. “I think you’re being dramatic,” Thor’s voice caught me off guard. I lifted my head slightly to see his imposing form leaning against the door to my tiny room, his arms crossed over his chest, golden hair hanging in his face. “Debatable. I went from sitting in a cell to suddenly working all day. My body hates me,” I said with a sigh, pulling myself up to sit against the headboard. “It will get better,” he snickered, stepping farther into my room. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his gaze moving to the floor. “Why are you asking? Thor, you don’t have to act like you care what happens to me. I did a lot of shitty things, just because Loki’s,”- I swallowed around the lump in my throat- “gone, doesn’t mean you have to care for me. I don’t deserve it, and you aren’t responsible for me,” I finished, my face emotionless. “Am I not? My brother loved you. I can see you love him too. But, in the end, he’s dead because of me; the least I can do is look after you. As I said before, you’re not as horrible as you try to make yourself out to be,” Thor had moved to sit on the edge of my bed. “Honestly, I thought we were getting along better too.” “I’m not that bad? I’ve killed more people than I can count, all over the galaxy, because they were in my way. I brutally murdered my father in New York, on top of helping Loki kill all those people in New York. I’ve almost killed your brother more times than I can remember, and I feel nothing. I don’t feel guilty. I don’t care,” I stated plainly. Thor had turned his face to look at me, his eyes locking with mine as I spoke; amazingly, I saw nothing, no fear or disgust. “Am I supposed to be scared? Do you know how many people I’ve killed? It doesn’t mean you’re evil,” Thor said, raising his eyebrow. “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. You did it to protect people. I did it because it’s easier, and I enjoy it,” I smiled slightly, raising my eyebrows. “So do I,” Thor said softly. I couldn’t contain my surprise at Thor’s admission; he looked away from me, but I could see the shame etched on his face at admitting his darkest secret. “Stop beating yourself up and work at being a better person if you want. Pity isn’t very flattering,” Thor said suddenly, quickly standing and heading for the door. “Thor?” I called before he left the room. He turned so I could see the side of his face. “I appreciate you telling me that; I could see it wasn’t easy. Thank you,” I whispered. “I told you we were getting along better,” he laughed dryly. “Get some sleep,” he said, a tight smile on his lips as he pulled the door shut behind him. I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling until sleep engulfed me, a dream pulling me in.

///

I sat on a bench in the castle’s garden, sighing at the warmth from the sun spreading over my cheeks. I heard the sound of soft footsteps coming closer; I already knew it would be Loki, but this was different. We didn’t spend time at the castle together, so this couldn’t be a memory; maybe my brain was just making up scenarios now. “Darling?” I heard Loki’s smooth voice to my right. I turned my head to find him; he stood at the end of the path, the sun bathing him in a soft golden glow. “Loki,” I sighed happily. My chest tightened at the sight of him; real or not, seeing him made me feel better. “I miss you,” I whispered, turning away from him. “I miss you too, darling,” his voice was closer this time. “I don’t have anyone to fight with,” I chuckled sharply, keeping my back to him. “Thor is always up for a good argument,” Loki laughed softly as he sat at the end of the bench. I looked up at him finally, locking eyes with him. “I never thought I’d know what heartbreak felt like. You fucking ruined that,” I grunted; Loki’s musical laughter washed over me. “Well, it won’t plague you for much longer,” Loki said, a smile spreading across his lips. “What?” I snapped my head towards him, but he was gone, and I started to shake violently.

“Lady Violet!” someone yelled, shaking me. My eyes shot up, falling on Thor’s face hovering over me, concern swirling in his blue orbs.

“What happened?” I asked; Thor moved aside so I could sit up. “Frode heard you yelling for Loki,” Thor said softly, sadness creased around his features. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I whispered, rubbing my hands over my face. “Do you need anything?” Thor asked, resting a gentle hand above my elbow. “No, not unless you want to put me out of my misery,” I laughed sharply. “Hilarious. Try and sleep again, and if you need anything, you know where my chambers are.” Thor squeezed my arm, smiling softly before leaving my room. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my reeling mind; that dream was so odd. So many things were off, and it was just making my head hurt; I slumped back in bed. After a while, I heard my door slowly open again; I sighed, glancing up to see Thor walking in. “Thor, I’m fine,” I grunted. Thor didn’t answer, so I pushed myself up on an elbow to look at him; he stood away from the door, just staring at me. “Thor, what are you doing?” I asked, my face pulling into a scowl. Thor still didn’t move or say anything, and now it was making me uncomfortable and, honestly, a little scared. “Hello, get the fuck out,” I said this time, hoping he’d leave. But, aside from his sudden silence, something else was weird about Thor, something that kicked up a deep pull in my chest, only making my head spin more. Thor stayed rooted in place, continuing to unsettle me; Thor has spent more time trying to get to know me over the last few weeks, but this new, weird behavior was making me uneasy. “I’m sorry, darling,” he finally said, his eyes falling to the floor. “Thor, don’t call me darling,” I shot back, ready to physically kick him out. What the fuck is wrong with him?? His eyes snapped up, meeting mine again; I gasped at the sudden striking green of Thor’s eyes. Seconds later, a green mist surrounded him, and Loki stood in his place. “Vi,” Loki whispered, his eyes looking into my soul. I almost collapsed at the sudden sight in front of me; I stumbled back, almost falling into my nightstand. “What kind of sick joke is this?” I spat, not believing he was alive. “No trick, darling. I had to make Thor believe I was dead,” he said, taking a step towards me. “No, no, stay away from me,” I stuttered, closing my eyes. This can’t be real, can it? I tried to clear my mind and take a deep breath; if this was some horrible joke my mind was playing, it should be gone. Then, finally, I opened my eyes, and the handsome trickster still stood in the same spot; pain etched on his face as he looked at his feet. “Loki?” I mumbled; his head shot up. “It’s me,” he smiled at me, taking a step forward again. Loki put his hand out towards me tentatively; I stumbled closer, being pulled towards him by some unseen force, until my fingers grazed his. The second I felt his slightly cool skin, I threw myself at him; I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Loki stumbled at the sudden force but quickly recovered, hugging me to his chest. For the first time in weeks, I felt whole instead of feeling like a shell of myself, trudging through the day. We stood like that for a long time; I wasn’t ready to let go, but he slowly pulled away, holding me at arm’s length. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Loki said, his lips pulling into a tight line. I clenched my fist, trying to refrain from hitting him but suddenly changed my mind. My fist connected with his face sending him stumbling a few steps; his hand came to his cheek, where I hit him. “You better be fucking sorry,” I growled, shaking my head. Loki stared at me in shock for a few seconds before a smile spread across his face, and he chuckled, standing up straight again. “Thank the gods you didn’t lose your edge, darling,” Loki snickered, rubbing his jaw. “I could kill you myself. Do you have any idea how bad that hurt!” I harshly whispered at him. “I never gave a shit about anyone after my mother dumped me on my own. I find myself caring about your stupid ass, and then you fake your death. If I weren’t so relieved that you were alive, I really would kill you,” I growled at him, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I will make it up to you. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, can we go?” Loki sighed, rolling his eyes. “Where the fuck are we going?” I grunted. “You’ll see in due time,” Loki mumbled, picking at his nails in boredom. “Well, I can’t do anything with these on.” I raised my arm towards him, showing him the metal band around my wrist. Loki reached out, running his fingers over the smooth metal; with a twitch of his fingers, he snapped the metal, it fell onto my bed. “You can’t break them, but I can,” Loki smirked, looking at me through his dark lashes. He grabbed my other hand, breaking the band with ease before pulling me towards him again. “Now, one more thing before we go,” Loki whispered. Loki pulled me against his chest, his face only a few inches from mine; his lips descended on mine softly. I was taken back by the tender nature of the kiss, but I kissed him back; I didn’t realize how much I truly did miss him. “Let’s go, darling,” Loki whispered against my lips. The air around me changed; Loki blinked us away with ease.

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Series Masterlist | Chapter 7

Taglist:

@criminalyetminimal @marvelfansworld

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80scartoonfan · 3 years

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My Review of Masters of the Universe Revelation - Better late then Never...

It has been two months now, and wow... Not, not many fans of the entire franchise like the Kevin Smith Masters of the Universe series do they? As an aspiring writer myself I can't say I blame them.

I know this comes literally on the heels of the LATEST series being released (obligations to projects, work, family and other things got in the way) and I have to say I wasn't all that impressed with it. If anything, compared to the dumpster fire that was Season 8 of Voltron Legendary Defender that season was more enjoyable than this first part of the mini-series.

And if I am being honest from the first leaks of Skele-God, to the drama with YouTubers like Clownfish-TV and others, to the "race swapping" of Andra and King Greyskull, to spoilers Kevin Smith himself even made, I would give Part-1 a GENEROUS D-Minus. This is a shame because I really wanted this series to exceed all expectations and be equal to the original like 2012s TMNT is or 2011s ThunderCats. But there is too much against it.

First, let’s talk about the animation. It was absolutely breathtaking! It was crisp, the world-building in just the scenery was a masterpiece. Out of what I saw of all of part 1, spotted one goof - dealing in episode 1 with Evil-Lyn's staff, which shows that their animators care of what they produce. I loved the animation so much that if the rights to my favorite anime were purchased by a studio to do a continuation from 2005 or a second reboot, I'd gladly give Powerhouse Animation my salary for the next 5 years!

The music, the music was gorgeous! But then I am biased towards Bear McCreary. Even though He-Man seems a bit knew to compose music to, he immediately got my vote of confidence when it was announced he was attached. Reason being, his work for the movie Godzilla King of the Monsters! His music made me actually tear up during that movie. Something I didn't do since another Godzilla movie.

With the exception of Mark Hamill - as shocking as it comes and Sarah Michelle Gellar, the voice acting was phenomenal! I loved Kevin Michael Richards as Beastman, Tony Todd as ScareGlow, even Liam Cunningham as Duncan! Chris Wood was spectacular as Prince Adam/He-Man for just being introduced to him. But the one who really stole the show for me was Lena Headdy. She killed it as Evil-Lyn, so much that if the Eternity War Saga or 2 part crossover event ThunderCats and He-Man/Injustice vs Masters of the Universe were made into live-action or animated movies, I'd pay whatever she wanted just to have her return.

I also want to applaud the effort of getting a diverse group of voice actors. Something which I noticed few if ANY have. Actors who are both known for their VA resumes and those who are new to voice acting. But also the actors themselves, besides the white and black VAs there were if I am not mistaken a Native American and I think 2 Mixed-Race voice actors. I don't remember if there were any Asian or Middle Eastern VAs, but it is always Part-2!

As for Mark Hamill, at first, I was excited that he was going to do the voice of Skeletor. But upon hearing him as Skeletor, I'm not sure anymore. Granted this is just the first part of the mini-series, but it didn't feel like Skeletor if that makes sense? To me, it felt like he was trying to mix Joker/Alvin the Treacherous/and Firelord Orzi all into one character.

Sarah Michelle Gellar is another one I wasn't sure about. I admit I found it hard going in unbiased because I never liked Sarah. Not as Gwendy Doll, or Andromeda, Daphne and certainly not as Buffy - mainly because I preferred Kristy Swanson as Buffy, but that is beside the point. She had some nice emotional spots, but for the majority of her performance as Teela, it just wasn't there for me. If the writing and script had been better than what it was, she could have won me over for Teela, but as I write this I am more excited for Kimberly Brooks to voice Teela.

Now let’s talk about the things I hated. This will involve anything from Characters including designs to the writing and other things. If you don't want to be triggered I advise you to stop reading this and move on. If you are still here and get triggered, like one person who always seems to be, don't say I didn't warn you. I am always open to engaging others civilly in talking and debate. But if you can't even do that, don't bother engaging. These are my opinions and MY THOUGHTS, and I will hold nothing back regardless of the topic. You have been warned!

The story, the story absolutely sucked! You can tell the writers, if you can call them that, just didn’t care about what they were doing. I’ll go into this shortly. But those writers should be ashamed to even call themselves that. Sure it was catered to be modernized and appealing to potential new fans, but they should have been more aware of what they were doing. Just in this first part, there are so many plotholes and questions I was asking myself that I filled 4 whole pages of paper asking questions and thoughts - which to the fanfic writers I will put in at the end of this if you want to explore them.

I watched the mini-series five times now, trying to be as objective as I possibly could as an aspiring writer and not as a MotU fan, and each time got even more painful. Let’s be clear on one thing, I wanted this series to succeed. But too many things brought it down, and like with Ghost in the Shell 2045, I’m not sure I want Netflix to release part 2 or that I would watch it if they did.

Let’s start with how it was advertised as a “direct sequel to the original.” It was not a direct sequel to the original. I have seen someone bring this up and I have to agree with him. This mini-series is more in line with Nickelodeon’s Voltron-Force from 2011. I remember watching that series when it premiered and then had to hunt down my VHS tapes that had them to get a feel for the series again.

Both played off their respective originals as direct sequels, but both are in fact pseudo-sequels/soft reboots. They have the characters we grew up with and we can identify these characters because they are close to their original counterparts, but that is as far as the “sequel” goes. They bring in newer characters who we know nothing about or characters who have maybe been unimportant to the main characters, but we have to accept them now. It was like that with Mona Lisa in the 2012 TMNT who I enjoyed WHEN they used her, Larmina of Voltron-Force being Allura’s niece, and Andra of Revelation who had maybe 2 or 3 appearances in the entire run of the Masters of the Universe franchise.

Like Voltron-Force, Revelation, had no real ties to the original. There were no mentions of battles, events, and characters who played critical roles in the original. Instead, it starts off with a narrative deposition to set the series up (not matching how the original ended) and just starts in with new adventures. For it to be a direct sequel to an original, you need to have more than just characters we can identify as He-Man/Skeletor/Keith/Lotor/Allura/or Teela.

Next, let’s talk about the length of this mini-series. This is still a bitter subject amongst Voltron fans because so much Netflix could have done more with it if they didn’t do four seasons that were 6/7 episodes. We can all agree that with the “story telling” they wanted to do, just five episodes just were not enough for the first part and potentially the second part. The amount of time needed to portray the journey from Adam’s death to Skeletor taking the power sword and becoming Skelegod could have easily been an entire season. Even 9-10 episodes would have been acceptable with the proper writing that wasn’t going for deliberate shock value goals or “shipping.”

With a 9-10 episode first part, they could have given everyone what they wanted. They could have had He-Man solidly in the first 3 episodes killing him off in the 3rd in such an emotional way it would leave us old-timers not only devastated but eager for more. Use episode 4 to transition into a dying magical world trying to survive with the loss of He-Man and Skeletor and set up the following episode where we see Teela and Andra meet, rather than “next episode we meet Teela and her ‘friend’ Andra on a practically dead world.” Hell, if this was supposed to be a series which wanted to emotionally cripple old timers like me, I’d have been fine if were three season 13 episode series where He-Man dies at the very end of season 1, season 2 picks up with the aftermath of his death, and season 3 is He-Man’s return to defeat Skeletor.

Let’s now talk about the plotholes in this series which tie together with the amount of episodes. These are the biggest things that damage the series the most! The biggest plothole and the most important one is “SPAN OF TIME!” How long has it been since Prince Adam’s death and we see Teela with Andra - days/weeks/months/years - WHAT?! When did they meet? Where did they meet? What happened to Eternos? Did King Randor go all Mad-King Targarian or was Eternos get sacked and destroyed now that He-Man was no longer there to protect its people? Did King Randor put a bounty on Teela’s head for leaving? Remember she was a sworn member of the guard to the King. I doubt he would have just let her leave unless he had a good reason not to go after her. What happened to all the other Masters - Clamp Champ/Ram-Man/Stratos/Buzzoff/Tusk Man and many others in the aftermath of Adam’s death? These are questions and things fans should have been focusing on rather than “will Teela and Andra be together?” Kevin Smith said this series had what others didn’t... STAKES. What are those stakes?

Speaking of Teela and Andra and I know this will be a touchy one for most. I feel that their dynamic is directly done to “queerbait” people. Now I am not saying we can’t have LGBT couples in series, it’s just that writers either need to commit to establishing these couples or not at all. Only doing glimpses or hints at, is for a lack of a better term a Kobayashi Maru - (a No Win Scenario for the Non-Star Trek fans) like it was with Shiro in Voltron Legendary Defender. And if and when this blows up in their faces, like it did the Voltron writers, they have no one to blame but themselves.

Star Trek Lower Decks like every other Star Trek since “The Next Generation” have no qualms in establishing certain characters as LGBT. It is how you do it, and many of these shows need to follow the example from Star Treks TNG/DS9/VOY/LD. This series are a clear testament that you can have Straight/Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual relationships without “queer-baiting” or overtly shoving it in people’s faces.

The writers have made it clear that there is something between Teela and Andra but while also making it clear there is still something between her and Adam. Which regardless of how part 2 ends is liable to upset the fans they “catered” this series to. Who do you make happy and who do you ostracize? And with today’s social media are you going to handle the backlash of giving one and not the other? I personally would prefer Teela and Adam to be what kids today call “Endgame,” but ever since the Keith & Allura tradition was soundly destroyed in Season 2 of Netflix’s Voltron, that when it comes to Netflix series I just simply don’t care anymore who ends up with who, I want a well thought-well developed story.

The character designs of Teela/Andra/Evil-Lyn I understand they wanted a more “modern” realistic feel to them, which I am neither for nor against. Because let’s face it spandex-clad or barely covered barbarian fantasy women with chainmail is a product of the 70s/80s/90s. It is alright to have modern designs for characters but not too modern. Especially when we have shows like Game of Thrones and others to draw references from.

I do admit, I am not a fan of Teela’s design. I understand the reasoning is to make her a “Strong Female Character” but there is more to being a strong female character than looking strong. Strength is also one’s character, how they grow and develop. Teela’s stubbornness, fear, and anger at her “past life” are preventing her growth. If this is the way they portray a strong female character then they have no business doing so.

Kimberly Brooks’ Allura is a far stronger woman than this Teela ever will be. The burdens she shouldered, admitting she was wrong and not gloating when she was correct, the forgiveness of a race responsible for the genocide of her’s, being a diplomat while also being a warrior, sacrificing her well being for others all contributed to her growth from “Princess who just woke up” to Strong Female Character by the end of Season 6.

Teela understandably was hurt by the lies that filled her life. Sure she built a life away from those lies, but she was running away from them. Rather than confront the reason why she became bitter and ran away essentially. She was only forced to confront those lies to save Eternia and the universe and even then there really wasn’t any humility about it. Instead, it is all about her. Not once in this series have I seen growth for Teela’s character like Legendary Defender’s Allura, and let me be perfectly blunt - I had no love for Allura after Season 2. Not once did she admit she was wrong or apologize. Not once was she willing to sacrifice her life for the greater good - instead she was willing to let the whole universe die because of the lies she was fed her life.

Now let me address the whole Race-Bending “controversy.” As with the new designs, I am neither for nor against them. I understand the arguments on both sides when it comes to Andra and King Greyskull. One side argues it appeals to young black girls and boys while the other argues they are being tired of being handed “Hand-Me-Down” characters. Both sides have valid arguments. But honestly, as an old Masters of the Universe fan, it took the so-called “race-swapping” of Andra for me to even remember her because she was never that important and even betrayed Teela for Faker in the Injustice vs Masters of the Universe comics and even then she appeared in maybe 5 panels at most.

Now King Greyskull, at first I was against, I’ll admit it but then I changed my tone looking at myself and my family. See I am Bi-Racial, my mother is white and my father is black. My father’s sister married a white guy and had 6 bi-racial kids. Two who in turn gave birth to white-skinned blond-haired blue-eyed kids. Had they gone the “bloodline” path Prince Adam could have been a representation of not just blacks, whites, but bi-racial and mixed-blood peoples.

I realize this is coming out on the eve of that new He-Man and the Masters of the Universe series, which as a He-Man fan since 1984 (when I was potty training) I will give it a shot, maybe even write a review of it. But I still have my reviews of Godzilla: Singular Point, Pacific Rim: The Black, Star Trek Lower Decks, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex 2045, and other series to write on top of work and my family life.

-------------------------------~ Question and Thoughts Time ~---------------------------

As I mentioned above, had many thoughts and questions which I believe were pivotal in the development of this series. Questions and thoughts should have been vocalized during the writing stage rather than fans asking them. These are of the first 3 episodes and some of episode 4. If you are a fanfiction writer who wants to explore these feel free to do so, I will be more than happy to read if they answer these questions and make the mini-series more enjoyable.

Keep in mind these are questions and thoughts I had because I am also an aspiring writer of my own fiction - that I am keeping close to my chest until I feel ready to release it.

Any true He-Man fan would question why is He-Man on a mechanical horse when he would be using battle cat

I do like the celebration happening at the same time quote-unquote He-Man is approaching Castle Grayskull it makes you think Adam is missing out on an important event

In the original series, Castle Grayskull had defenses that the Sorceress could call upon to confuse and combat an enemy who breached its walls how did Skeletor learn about the true secrets of Castle Grayskull when it should only be the Sorceress that knows of such secrets

If the Sorceress is so powerful and so smart why was she tricked by the faker He-Man he doesn't have the power sword?

I love that Orko is still a bumbling magician in Eternia’s realm. Shows how different realities have an effect on others

Adams entrance to “I have the power” let alone his playful jab at who “He is” should have been a hint to Teela

I do like the scene between Adam and Teela in the hall. It really makes you think that they actually are friends from childhood that grew up together and possibly have a future together.

My knowledge of the 38 years of the canon may be a bit shady now, but hasn’t Skeletor always needed the Power sword to get into Castle Grayskull like he always needed it in the comics?

They hinted that his mother knows he's He-Man and that she does reveal that he is He-Man after the battle. I know a mother knows these things about her child. But how did she learn Adam was He-Man and how did she not tell King Randor

Again how did Marlena know He-Man was her son and not tell her husband?

King Randor’s response is feasible but Teela’s response, because everyone lied to her is understandable - but she's a warrior. She is also a sworn captain of the royal guard, sworn to the King. She can’t just quit like that, can she?

How much time has passed between the death of Adam and when we see Teela with Andra

What has happened to the Royal Family in this time? What about Eternos? Has King Randor and Marlena revealed that he-man was their son Prince Adam? With He-Man out of the picture Has Eternos Fallen? Did Randor go all Mad-King Targaryen and become a ruthless tyrant?

What has happened to all of the other Masters? Ram-Man/Buzzoff/Clamp Champ/Fisto/Stratos/ and so many others? Were they killed off? Did they disband? Or were they exiled, WHAT?!

What about Snake-Mountain? What happened in the aftermath of Skeletor’s apparent death? Did Triclops and Beastman betray Evil-Lyn?

How did Teela meet Andra? What is the “When, where, and how” behind their meeting? What did she do to gain Teela’s trust when she felt betrayed by the world?

What is Andra’s background or history in this series besides being an engineer?

When old hag gives Teela and Andra their mission you can obviously tell it's evil-lyn

He-Man flashbacks are kind of nice but it would have been nice to have a build-up for such flashback or have a series season before his demise with such flashbacks that way it could be more poignant

I do like the idea of Triclops and Trap-jaw building a technical but what put them on the path for this techno cult

The cult kind of feels like the Borg as much as I like the idea of Trap-jaw and Triclops making a cult I don't know how I feel about it being Borg-like

This may be controversial but Andra feels like the stereotypical POC Rooky sidekick you see join the main character on their quest.

Like Grace Randolph said this whole Teela/Andra angle may come up and bite everyone in the ass later on if they don’t follow through which will piss off all the old-time fans and if they don’t follow through with the Teela/Andra angle and make Prince Adam/Teela are a couple then all the LGBTQ fans will be pissed off about that

I can already foresee it happening just like it did with Voltron Legendary Defender with Shiro being gay and his ex-partner Adam being killed in combat

We do get a hint of what the king did after the final battle but still what happened in that time after Prince Adam was killed? Did king Randor go off the deep end and become a dictator, what? These are questions that needed to be asked and answered during the writing stage

When did Evil-Lyn, Cringer, and the Sorceress make an alliance to save what little magic is left and in essence the entire universe?

I have the suspicion that was the Sorceress finally trying to tell Teela she's her mother Ford Shadows that the Sorceress is going to die and Teela is going to take her place

Did Teela really name Cringer, or was it something to boost her up in this mini-series?

Did cringer really tell Tela the Adam loved her?

Thus Begins the quest to reforge the sword to go to heaven and hell to get the parts and rebuild the Power sword thus queue Duncan

How much time has passed between the end of the previous episode and the beginning of this new one?

How is time measured on Eternia?

If Skeletor truly wanted to kill He-Man why didn't you take his power sword when he was shackled up?

Kevin Conroy is ma as Mermaid Man if he gets more roles as mermaid man he might grow on me

Instead of gloating, why didn’t they take He-Man’s sword if it was their prize all along?

Typical 80s cartoon ponds very nice

If Evil-Lyn preached that Man-at-Arms was the most dangerous man in Eternia why didn't they act like it why did they act like He-Man was the most dangerous one?

I do love the jobs both Teela and Evil-Lyn take at each other because they are pretty much the same. Evil-Lyn is Skeletor’s version of the Sorceress and Teela is practically He-Man sorceress when she accepts her destiny.

Teela has seen her father fight hundreds of times how could you not recognize his fighting style?

I like how beast man's loyalty never swayed from evil when I also like Kevin Michael Richardson parentheses? As Beastman I thought I would like him as King Grayskull but I I do like him as beast man

Orko like Castle Grayskull does provide a little hint as to King Randor’s reaction to Prince Adam’s death. I feel this is something they should have put into the series

I feel that all of Orko's scenes in episode 3 and my Following episode 4 are tainted because of Kevin Smith revealing he gets killed and why he decided to have Oracle killed

Why should Beastman show a little fear to Andra who is she to him?

I like that you can still see that Man at Arms still loves the Sorceress and I also find it funny that when it comes to that one huge secret something always gets in the way

Again I hate how they portrayed the span of time in this?

How did they go from a Forest Village so halfway across the world?

Something's been nagging me lately could Evil-Lyn be related to both Teela and the Sorceress somehow?

It could be a reference to how similar the Figures were in the 80s but in some scenes, Teela and Evil-Lyn’s facial structures look almost identical could you be separated sisters?

The further this point it's funny how Evil-lyn and Kela can just cut through the bullshit between their infatuation with He-Man and Skeletor

Again what time something happened between evil-lyn and Merman we don't know what just that he seems bitter that she didn't take over the land while he took a while he tried to take over the seat

It seems that there are undertones to a massive war and the wake of Prince Adam’s death.

I kind of like how even evil-lyn kind of shows that she may be afraid of subterranean

With half of part 1 ended could Skeletor have them influencing her? Why did she have to retrieve the Havoc staff head?

How does Evil-Lyn know so much about the Subterranea?

Teela facing a false He-Man could be a hint of her feelings for Adam. But I think it would be more of a visceral scene if it was Prince Adam and not He-Man.

Was that a hint of Teela becoming the new sorceress?

Scenes between Orko and Lyn were a nice touch. Maybe a better connection between Orko and Lyn than Teela, He-Man, and the others?

Orko’s sacrifice could be the beginning of the Dark-Orko storyline?

Was that the Sorceress’ most recent ancestor, Teela’s Grandmother or GREAT-Grandmother?

Why didn’t Adam finish the chant? If Kevin Smith borrowed aspects from everything relating to He-Man, then why didn’t Adam finish the chant? A few times Adam has been run through in which he could finish the chant to become He-Man.

If Teela is such a badass, why didn’t she attempt to stop a reconstituting Skeletor from stabbing Adam?

Really Andra? You are going to sass Skeletor? He doesn’t know you and would sleep like a baby dispersing you. You are nothing to him, you are lucky he didn’t decide to run you through with the power sword.

And really Skeletor? Because no woman could love a face like your’s? Thats your motivation?

#masters of the universe revelation #motu #he-man #teela #skeletor

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hridley21ahsgov · 4 years

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BLOG POST #3: POLITICAL PARTY ACTION

MY ISSUE: CLIMATE CHANGE

REPUBLICAN: They don’t have a clear stance on climate change. Many Republicans consider it an issue, and others might be in denial of it. However, even with the people who understand, it's a problem they can't speak out on. As I can’t entirely agree with this thinking, I can understand the thought process of not embracing this “democratic” view. Embracing climate change would change the parties’ morals, which the Republicans wouldn’t want as the party has extreme values in the economy, gun rights, and religion. Straying away from these values would be the first step in the collapse of the republican party. The Republicans know they are an outdated party from a moral standpoint, so having a democratic outlook on a significant issue like climate change would destroy their parties following.

DEMOCRAT: True believers in climate change view it as an urgent matter to the economy, national security, and our children’s health. They think that Americans deserve jobs and security coming from the clean energy superpower of the 21st century. They also push ideas and have been arguing about climate change since 1992 when the Senate approved the U.N. framework convention on climate change. Now 38 years later, a document that’s only 15 pages long lays out the framework for a new world. This document is called “The green new deal”, it talks about ideas such as no planes, one hundred percent clear air, and renewable energy by 2030. The democrats are the hardest battering ram to the door of the new world.

LIBERTARIAN: Like Republicans, Libertarians have nothing to contribute to the ever-growing problem of climate change. They are forced to acknowledge the issue, as Libertarians share many political views with republicans capitalizing on Economy, Gun rights, and national defense. The average Libertarian is a white male who might or might not be under the age of 50. When it comes to older voters in any political party, they are less likely to accept change, especially if forced upon them. In an article by “Students for liberty,” Libertarians would tackle climate change and or their a solution to climate change was idiotic. They said that we needed better property boundaries and that we should go by the idea that “anything that happens on my property stays on my property.” Meaning that you can pollute your property for months without caring for the environment. However, it is unacceptable if your pollution spills onto another property. If that sounds like any political party, you know, I might have mentioned them at the start.

GREEN: When addressing climate change, no party except for democracy can match the enthusiasm and policy that the green party has. The party was built off of the ideas of environmentalism, social justice, and eco-socialism. In a broader term, their view of their party could be summarized as “world peace”. However, the party was founded 19 years ago and is relatively small compared to the two dominating parties. However, their climate change policies are more detailed and thought out than any of the two parties. They had solutions to get greenhouse emissions down 40% by 2020. They had proposals of climate treaties to stop runaway climate change. They had plans to repay our climate debt by providing development cheaper than fossil fuels. And most importantly, they had well thought out jobs to help transition workers from coal and fossil fuels industries to renewable energy-based jobs. Which “The green new deal” took and attached and was shown in 2019 by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. To say the green party didn’t trail-blaze putting climate change on the political scale today would be an understatement. Right now, the green party’s ideology might seem very fairy tale-like and science fiction-like, but in fact, they are just before their time.

PEACE AND FREEDOM: When you hear the name “peace and freedom” in today’s political landscape, it is primarily associated with the conservative parties. However, for this party, that’s not the case. The peace and freedom party is considered a very left-wing and progressive political party. Founded on June 23, 1967, their main ideologies still stand today being Feminism, Pro peace, and Socialism. They also have strong policies on climate change that are identical to the democrats. They advocate for environmental jobs, condemn places with a rise in pollution, and march for 100% renewable energy. The only apparent difference that sets this party apart from the other parties is their dedication to job equality. However, this party is small on the political scale, especially when you compare it to the green party and the Libertarians, which are also considered small. In the end, though, this party’s views on climate change have shown great longevity since its origin and will continue to shine as they become more well known.

REFLECTION:

As a democrat myself, it’s hard to stray away from a party that you’ve followed your entire political career. However, the green party policies far exceeded anything I expected and truly impressed me on their evolution as a party in their small span of 19 years. With that being said, would I vote for any candidate that came from the green party right now, “No”? If the party got more prominent and more fledged out and respected and had more transparent and personal candidates, would I reconsider my statement, “yes”? Their party is in its infant stage, and even though I can identify with it the most, I can see a future where they are a popular party in a non-two-party dominated system.

PRESIDENTIAL DEBATE ASSESSMENT:

My civic action was brought up during the debate and was executed interestingly by both candidates. Trump said that he wanted to have clear water and clean energy. This is incredibly hard to agree with as Trump lifted massive restrictions set by the Obama administration for fossil fuel production and then thrashed “The green new deal” right in front of Joe Biden. On the other hand, Joe Biden talked about his nearly 2 trillion dollar climate change plan that would expand for decades. Creating active jobs for renewable energy and creating areas from clean energy. I agree with his plan, and I think it is a clear step in the right direction. His argument’s effectiveness was cut short as the other candidate kept interrupting him and kept repeating that Joe Biden’s 2 trillion dollar climate plan was the green new deal, which isn’t true. Both parties didn’t contradict themself entirely; Joe Biden went with a middle, not extreme left-wing plan on tackling climate change. And Trump talked about wanting clean water and clean air, which I think every human that’s ever lived could agree that’s a good trait to have.

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lllluka · 4 years

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A LUXY Conversation with a Debatable Amount of Eye Contact

Been doing assignments and exams all week, so I’m doing all my LUXY week content late. Here’s my day one (on day 5 lol). ‘Eye Contact’. @luxyweek .

This is the same Universe as:

1. ‘THIS IS WHY XY ISN’T ALLOWED TO WEAR SHIRTS WITH TEXT ON THEM’ - A comedy oneshot about a shirt selection gone awry.

2. ‘ ONESHOT ’ - In which Bob Roth and Anarka Couffaine are now ‘drinking buddies’ and XY stays over on the houseboat. Luka hates him. Luka hates him SO much.

3. ‘THIS IS WHY LUKA SHOULDN’T LOSE HIS MIND AND COOK DINNER’

- A chaotic comedy/unique horror crack-scenario from the POV of a 26 y/o Marinette.

From start to finish this experience had been living Hell for Luka, and as more and more time passed by, Luka began to mirror his feelings about this whole ordeal with his body language; leaning on doorways, brooding, with his arms folded- sitting near Bob and his mother as they attempted to play poker on the deck, with his guitar, but ONLY electing to ‘tune’. At some points it seemed as though Bob was about ready to say something in reaction to his purposeful intermissions, but Anarka somehow managed to grasp the old man’s attention back whenever his moustache-endowed lips begged to open.

The worst part about Bob and Anarka hanging out so much recently, wasn’t even the presence of the producer in his home space. For the most part, Bob just minded his business and didn’t really acknowledge Anarka’s adult live-in son. It was Bob’s OWN live-in son that was actually the problem, and this was specifically because the SOB (Son of a Bob) had not only brazenly stolen his band’s music, pissed off his former love, AND gotten him Akumatized on multiple occasions, but was now rubbing his decorated fingers all over Luka’s equipment. He figured, save from physical violence, the best he could do was try to drive the company away at the source, hence the live tuning entertainment, but… there was apparently no budging.

One particular night, after playing the same four-note riff about a quarter of a thousand times, Luka begrudgingly picked up his guitar and headed downstairs to call it a night. Now, as much has he’d been worried about XY snooping about and digging through his equipment, it hadn’t occurred to him until now just what an inattentive, easily distractible person could do to his bedroom. The air was suddenly deathly quiet, as his footsteps creaked the pastel floorboards, body allowing for an involuntary shudder as he approached the poorly-designed door handle to his bedroom. After hefting the majority of his bodyweight into it, he opened the door.

Luka just about had a heart attack when he realised XY was not there. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He worked out how to turn the doorhandles? He’d just figured Xavier was too stupid to consider turning it with both hands. So much for that, it’s not like that guy could not be trusted on such a delicate vehicle-slash-home. God forbid the asshole got into the controls or sunk the boat.

It was definite. He had to be found, and that was not an action Luka had voluntarily elected for in the past. Though there was an extreme sense of urgency, Luka, of course, did not forget to stop and gently tuck his guitar under the sheets of his bed—leaning over once the instrument looked cosy, to kiss it good night. The strings rung out in tangy appreciation, and that’s how he knew he did a good job. God, he’d make a great father- but that was a thought for later. NOW, at least, he should probably redirect his attention to finding the hidden celebrity.

Just as he rammed back through the door, he saw the guy. Xavier was just standing there, staring blankly, with a half-eaten cup of noodles in one hand, and chopsticks in the other.

“What are you looking for?” He inquired, twisting more noodles onto his chopsticks. Luka stared egregiously at the man, first thinking ‘he’s eating my food’, and then ‘he can use chopsticks??’. He would have figured, with the guy being XY and all, he would have just mistaken them for, like, rectal thermometres or something. …You know, after consideration, he should probably start hiding everything that a second-grader wouldn’t recognise. Especially eating utensils.

“You.” Luka replied cautiously, a hand lingering on the doorframe. To be honest, he was still completely spun from the situation, and watched at half-attention as XY continued slurping up the ‘dles.

“That’s sweet. Want an autograph?” After blowing out the steam of his last bite, XY pecked an air kiss in Luka’s general direction, although his eyes were still fully focal on the food. It irritated Luka a lot, that the guy didn’t even have the decency to look him in the eye when he mock-kissed at him. Like, really. Where is the etiquette? Didn’t XY learn this in bully school? Luka bit the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“No thanks, I’m fine.” The words were civil, the tone was tense. It at least earned a double-brow raise from the disk jockey, but still no eye-contact.

“You know,” Xavier began, “you’re really mean to me.” Luka was more than taken aback. He had never been called mean in his LIFE. Not by anybody, and not at any point. He felt his flesh freeze under his skin, stomach wobbling with tense anxiety. The worst part about it was that he couldn’t even say that it was untrue. He’d been nothing but a jerk to XY since he’d gotten there, and even before. …Maybe they had some old beef, and he didn’t care for Xavier’s taste, but… he had to admit, out of the two of them, the guy had been pretty civil this whole time.

‘Oh God’, Luka realised. ‘The asshole might have been me all along’. It was physically nauseating to him, and he struggled to find anything to say. All he could do was stare intensely at the guy.

At the silence, Xavier finally lifted his gaze, double-taking-in Luka’s stunned face with pleasure.

“See! You totally know it too! I knew I wasn’t wrong!” He seemed delighted to have struck a chord (haha). Luka swallowed, shaking his head through throbbing confusion.

“I’m not mean.” It was the only thing he could think to say, though it was tense, almost like a question. XY nodded, getting through another mouthful of noodles.

“No, I know. I didn’t say you were mean, I said you were mean to me.” He elaborated, moving to rest his shoulder on the doorframe, next to Luka’s hand. “And because I know that you’re, like, this SUPER goody-goody guy to everybody else, it’s kinda, like… twice as mean that you’re only being like this to me.”

The shock didn’t fade in Luka, but the already-seated distaste for XY caused him to swallow the guilt for a singular moment. “I’m just being myself. It’s pretty hard to get me to dislike somebody, but, yeah, someone being amoral is one of the things I can’t stand.” …He couldn’t forget. XY was worse, and in action. He was a thief, and a liar, and a senseless egotist who didn’t care about music, or other people. “You’re the one who’s… mean.”

Xavier didn’t flinch. His voice fluttered away, casual as can be.

“Yeah, I’m mean, but I’m not mean to you.”

The polar opposite of Luka, apparently. …And yeah, maybe there was a point there. He’d been suspiciously tame around Luka, despite being incredibly judgemental of everybody else. No where near what Luka had anticipated when he’d found out he’d be in the presence of XY again.

He wondered why that was.

“…Yeah, but why?” Well, that was an easy way to coax an answer. Maybe he was just too lazy to fight with him, or… maybe XY was, like, in love with him or something, like that lady that kept ordering pizzas at his last job.

He scrunched his face at the thought.

XY shrugged, draining the cup of its broth and then moving to place it on a barrel within arms-reach.

“That’s not an answer.” Well, not really. At least not one that satiated Luka’s curiosity. With a pained sigh, Xavier waved his hands back and forth like he was using his hands for invisible pinball. He seemed to be considering his reasoning.

“…I don’t know, dude. I just don’t feel like that toward you. …I mean, it’s not you, it’s me. I just need a little time to focus on myself-“

“You don’t feel... mean toward me? Wh---Are you using breakup lines?” Luka stared incredulously. A light in XY’s mind popped, and bright realisation appeared on his face.

“Oh, shaa! I guess I was just copying my old convos.”

It took all of Luka’s willpower to not slug XY right in the face. His fists balled, but he let out a long breath. One of these days, he really should to get back into meditation, lest he be in jail for hot-blooded murder due to some rage fit.

“…XY-“

“It’s because I respect you.”

Luka paused, opening his eyes to meet a strong blue gaze from the other artist.

“What?” Wire-pitched numbness took over the fuzz in the guitarist’s head.

“Your music, and stuff. …Like, it was good enough for someone like me to draw inspiration from.” XY shrugged once again. ‘Inspiration’, yeah, right. He tried that line years ago as well, if he recalled correctly. …Still, there was something weirdly flattering about it.

“Oh.” Thanks. Say thanks, Luka. “………What the fuck.”

That wasn’t it. …But still, the unexpected reaction made XY laugh out loud, chuckling hysterically in waves that he evidently couldn’t contain. Luka watched blankly at his reaction, his neck feeling itchy all of a sudden, and his face very red- a reaction surprisingly hard to evoke within him.

When he watched XY straighten his posture and finally wipe the tears from his eyes, a smile of his own peeked out, but soon faded to neutral in stubbornness; a natural response, whenever Xavier made eye-contact.

#luxyweek2k20 #luxyweek2020 #luxyweek #xavier-yves roth #luka couffaine #XYKA #writing #this was kinda nice to write tbh but it doesn't play around with humour as much as my other ones

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macbookpro-hard-drive · 5 years

Text

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.3

did you know that tumblr no longer has those lil.. lines that i liked to separate my notes from my fic with? i didnt. until now. unbelievable.

SO NOW I HAVE TO SUPPLY MY OWN and hopefully this is fine

anyway. ive been... dead for a while. summer destroyed all motivation to do Anything, but ive been forcing myself to write on and off and this part feels... shorter than it should be, but

anyway! i am alive! i have plans! i have things to write! some of them are never going to be on this blog bc theyre original works, but im always open to talk abt them skdfhdsfh

warnings: uhhhhhhh vague manipulation, and i think thats it? just general. squip. yea.

The last time you had seen Michael Mell as a friend had been the beginning of sophomore year. He and Jeremy sat on either side of you in his basement, clutching controllers and halfheartedly playing video games. Soda went untouched and unopened, snacks left alone, and too many times had Jeremy lost on games he knew like the back of his hand. The air had been stiff and uncomfortable, and the feeling had seeped into your nerves and bones to make your stomach turn at the thought of staying longer. Jeremy wasn’t quite there, and Michael was trying too hard to be extra present to make up for it. He became doting on the two of you - quick to refill a snack bowl that had barely been touched with Jeremy following him out of the basement. That was when you found your phone and called your parents, asking if they could come pick you up - bullshitting some excuse about how you felt sick. When Michael came down, he saw you packing up your things with a half-assed apology and a shitty acting job before you tore up the stairs and nearly rammed into Jeremy in the process. Your chest had tightened as you pushed past him with a quick apology and went to wait on the front steps outside for your mom to come get you.

That had been the beginning of the end. After that day, Jeremy had slowly stopped talking to you almost completely. Michael had tried to patch things up, to keep things going, and then he just stopped abruptly. To make things worse, you had broken down at school a few weeks after everything went silent, because you’d been alone. You wiped at your face roughly with the sleeve of your hoodie, and left the bathroom. Barely seconds after you had turned the corner to head to class, you ran straight into him - headphones on and head down - only for his gaze to find yours the moment you stumbled back. He opened his mouth to speak, and you stumbled through a rough, shitty apology before you pushed past him and onward to your class. And then you avoided him purposefully, not wanting to address that little moment of weakness you had.

And now you were sitting in front of him, eyes red and tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice. Your back pressed into cold metal, the lockers clanging behind you as you pulled away and tried to say something, anything to explain yourself. But Michael just stared at you, uncertain about what to say to you. Your legs were like stone, almost as if something was keeping you from darting away, from finding a safer place to land and cry and get over the tears forced from your body.

“[y/n]?” Michael finally said, still staring at you. The lights overhead gleamed off his glasses and headphones as he pulled them down and around his neck, music loud enough for you to hear. He gave you a quick once-over, his attention now fully on you. “You okay?”

You went to nod only for another sob to overtake you instead. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” you admitted after a moment, voice shaking and broken. And it was sort-of true.

“Are you sure?” He said, “hey, I, uh, I know I sorta stopped talking to you and that was kinda shitty but... I’m still here if you need someone to talk to, alright?” After a moment, he tacked on another thought, “do you need a ride home?”

Immediately, you didn’t want to say yes. It didn’t feel right to. But you’re already nodding before you can debate anything further. “Yeah,” you said slowly at first, reaching up and wiping at your eyes. Realization hit you quick. Your bag. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, kinda left my bag in the auditorium.” You hesitated to step away - you didn’t really want to go back and make an excuse to leave, to let anyone see you with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Michael... can you-”

“On it,” he gave you a small, two-finger salute, “I’ll be back in a sec!”

As Michael took off down the hallway, you felt a pit develop in your stomach while he disappeared around the corner. Nothing felt right. You looked around for a moment, acutely aware of how silent everything had gone. When your SQUIP materialized in front of you, you avoided its gaze as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself for a moment. The world felt a little colder, a little dimmer, and everything was off. The sound of Michael’s approaching footsteps minutes later played the steady beat for your incoming guilt-induced breakdown, and yet the boy smiled at you - as if nothing was wrong. Maybe that was because it looked like nothing was wrong. The strap of your bag was tossed over his shoulder, bouncing against his own backpack, and yet he looked at you like you were still friends.

“Thanks,” you finally said as you reached for your bag.

Michael stepped back, “I’ve got it,” he said with a smile, “don’t worry.”

You let your arm fall back to your side, only to then shove your hands into your pockets. “Thanks,” you said, avoiding eye contact for a moment.

The walk to Michael’s car was mostly quiet, with concerned glances thrown your way every now and then - that, when you caught then, were met with insecure smiles at the situation he’d been pulled into. Which.... frankly, threw you off a bit. Michael had always been the one who was better with all this feelings shit - you and Jeremy had the unhealthy habit of bottling everything up. And now Michael walked in step with you, still warm as ever - and still wearing that damn red hoodie you swore he showered in, but it still made you smile because of course Michael still took good care of it. When you hesitated for half a step upon seeing his P.T. Cruiser, he looked back at you before you shot him an uneasy smile and continued towards the passenger side. One of his moms must have given it to him - whether for his birthday or as a gift for passing his driver’s test, you weren’t sure. But the seats were still well-worn, a Pac-Man sticker stuck on the head-rest of the driver’s seat that Michael had stuck there when bored out of his mind. It was worn with age, like you’d expect it to be, but you suppressed a small smile at the fact it was still there.

If the walk to Michael’s car had been quiet (with the occasional snippit of Michael saying something about how he still feels bad about what happened between the three of you, or about how he’s kinda sorry about the walk to the back of the parking lot) then the ride to your house was dead silent. Music flooded through the car speakers, Michael’s phone resting in your lap due to him pushing it in your direction and telling you to play whatever you want, and his attention was fully on the road - the sound of his phone’s GPS spitting out directions every so often to guide him. You watched out the window, a small sense of dread resting in your stomach the entire way, and for some reason... you felt sick.

When the car started to roll to a stop, Michael reached up and turned the music down. “Hey, uh, you still have my number, right?”

You blinked at him for a moment, before pulling out your phone. “I, uh, think so?” You opened your contacts, flipping through them, “I don’t think I deleted it or anything-”

“Good,” he smiled at you, “if you ever wanna hang out, I’m, uh, pretty free since Jeremy’s busy with this whole.. play... thing.” He paused for a moment, only to follow it up quickly with “I mean if you aren’t doing anything, since - I dunno, you aren’t apart of the cast so-”

“Okay,” you cut him off, “yeah, sure - I’m only painting the set for it, so... I’ll probably try to do that during lunch.”

“I, uh,” he began, nodding towards your jacket, “I like your pin. Have you ever played the old shit?” When you shook your head, he was filled with excitement. “Dude. You have to come over then. I’ve got the classic Zelda stuff if you wanna play.”

Running a hand through your hair, you just sort-of nodded in response as you opened the car door, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “Thanks for the ride, Michael.”

You closed the car door, taking a few steps back as he pulled off and drove away, before you turned and head up to your house - pausing to notice your parent’s cars were missing. Right. Letting your bag fall down to your elbow, you began to fish through it to find your keys tucked away in the bottom of your bag, and you nearly sent the contents of your bag spilling when you went to pull it back to your shoulder. But with lightning reflexes that weren’t your own, you managed to snap into action and pull it shut before anything could spill - and when you looked up, your SQUIP was standing before you.

Huh. “... Thank you?” You zipped your bag back up, letting yourself into your house.

“You should stick to hanging out with Michael,” your SQUIP said, watching you head into your bedroom

Dropping your backpack onto your bed, you shrugged at the idea as you began to search for your homework. “I mean, sure, he’s still a cool guy-”

“Michael is close to Jeremy,” it said, as if the fact wasn’t obvious, “therefore, if you get closer to Michael, you’ll get closer to Jeremy.”

You stopped. “Isn’t that using Michael?”

“You were friends with him before. It’s rekindling your friendship that just so happens to mean you’ll rekindle something with Jeremy.” It said, “you aren’t manipulating him.”

You shook your head, setting one binder down and searching for another. “I don’t really like this,” you said, “I don’t want do hurt Michael or anything-”

“Why would you be hurting him by being friends with him?”

Thinking it over, you finally nod a little. “... I guess you’re right,” you looked down at the textbook in your hands. “It just feels wrong-”

“Don’t feel, [y/n],” it stepped beside you, turning your head to meet it’s steely gaze. “Just listen. I’m here to help you.”

Reluctantly, you nod. “... Right.”

So you did. The next day, Rich fell into step beside you - inviting you to stop acting like a loner and to sit with him and Jake and the rest of his friends. You debated taking him up on the offer for a moment, only to spot Michael sitting alone in a corner of the cafeteria. You declined immediately, not looking back as you crossed the room to join Michael. That became your routine - sliding into a seat near Michael, talking about video games and whatnot, and occasionally letting the topic slip to Jeremy as Michael had the habit of occasionally venting about the boy.

“I mean,” he started one day, pointing a fork in your direction, “you remember how he is. He’s just... so in love with her,” he shook his head, “and, I mean, yeah, it’s Christine, but he could, y’know... not abandon me every day.”

You nodded, “I’m sure he’s just blinded by his crush, Michael.”

He nodded, stabbing into his burrito bowl, “I know...” He trailed off, looking away for a moment, “I just... he’s excited about this and - and that’s great! He’s actually sort-of talking to Christine!” He smiled back at you, “every time he talks about her, he gets that stupid look on his face. He practically has heart eyes, [y/n].” He paused for half a beat, “but... y’know, I can’t blame him. He keeps talking about how she’s been helping him with his lines, and that she’s so passionate about theatre...”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. From your limited interactions with Christine, she seemed to be a complete sweetheart. No wonder Jeremy liked her.

“In time, he’ll like you more.” It nudged it’s way in between your thoughts, “as long as you do what I tell you to. I’ve got a plan-”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you busied yourself with your lunch. “Sure, buddy.”

The stern silence that responded to your tone spoke volumes. But like a knife through butter, Michael’s voice washed away the slight tension you’d begun to feel: “hey, do you still draw?”

You perked up at the question, turning your full attention back to Michael, answering with a far-too chipper “yes!” You immediately forced yourself to calm down, “yeah, I, uh, I still do. My art’s changed a lot, though,” you kind-of smiled, “I have a, uh, pretty decent following online now. I’m just glad I get to do what I love.”

Snagging his phone from his pocket, Michael went silent for a moment as he opened up his tumblr app. “There’s this artist that Jeremy and I discovered - they seem really fucking cool, dude, and they seem like someone you’d like-”

And then you were met with your own artwork, tagged with your online alias, and you had to resist the urge to immediately spill that he’d found you online after you remade your account. You could feel your SQUIP’s fingers gripping your shoulder, and you bit your tongue as you nodded, giving some half-hearted answer about how they seem cool, sure, before wondering why it had stopped you from saying anything.

You didn’t address it until later. Halfway through your homework, you looked up and pushed yourself away from your desk. “Hey.” You spoke aloud.

Within seconds, your SQUIP proceeded to materialize in front of you. “You’re speaking aloud-”

“I know,” you said with a hand wave, “my parents are still out. What was up with that earlier?”

“You shouldn’t go around saying things-”

“But it’s Michael,” you refuted, “I trust him. Besides - wouldn’t telling him that get me closer to Jeremy?”

It’s cold gaze made you shrink under pressure. “I have a plan. [y/n]. If you want to get Jeremy, you have to obey.”

“What about what I want?” You forced yourself to stand your ground, staring at the figure before you, “what if I want to do things differently?”

“You bought me for a reason.” It crossed its arms, watching you, “this is what you want, though. That’s why I’m here: to help you get what you want. And what you want is Jeremy. I’m going to help you get Jeremy, but I can’t do that if you don’t trust me, [y/n].”

Pressing your lips together, you mustered up a weak nod. Right. “Sorry,” you finally said, “I just - I’m scared it’s not going to work.”

“It will.”

When Michael invited you over the next day, you were more than happy to take him up on the offer. He began to reason it as well, Jeremy’s at play practice, before he ended up dropping the facade and admitting he still kind-of missed you and that it’d been a while since he’d kicked your ass at video games (and, fuck, the glimmer in his eyes when he said that was enough to make you agree, and you realized in that moment just how much you actually missed Michael). So he drove you to his house, letting you take complete control of the music, and then he left you in the basement to find any games you’d be interested in while he grabbed some snacks from the kitchen.

While the two of you played, you talked idly when the situation would allow it. About anything. About everything. About trips Michael had taken with his moms, about his and Jeremy’s brand new Halloween tradition of watching horror movies - usually the shittier ones - and gorging on candy, about how your parents always seemed so busy (and almost immediately Michael offered up his house for whenever you didn’t want to be alone, and you melted a little at the offer). The entire time, the room felt too quiet, even among the conversation and the music of each game. At first, you thought it was because Jeremy was missing. Things didn’t feel right without him. But it hit you, right as you were laughing at something Michael said.

“Hey!” Michael brightened up at his idea, “you should join us.” When you looked over, slightly confused, he continued, “the, uh, Halloween thing? You should join our marathon.”

You faltered for a moment, looking down at your controller. Your voice isn’t your own as you speak, saying some sort of confirmation that felt too distant for it to be you. The guilt built within you, as you pushed yourself to hide the feeling while turning your attention back to the game, back to beating Michael this round. But the thought lingered.

You were using Michael Mell.

#mj's writing corner #be more chill #bmc #be more chill x reader #bmc x reader #be more chill reader insert #bmc reader insert #jeremy heere #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine

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defdaily · 4 years

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[TRANSLATION] Ceci Magazine January 2016 issue x JJ PROJECT

[INTERVIEW] JB & Jinyoung: Ceci January ‘16

“If it’s really a drama, whether it’s a happy ending, or a sad ending, whatever the ending might be it doesn’t matter because we are the drama that never ends. I think we have to continuously try to be happy when we do the job we like.”

- What’ve you been up to? You must’ve been extremely busy with the national <If You Do> promotions and the activities overseas. JB: After the “If You Do” promotion we went on an overseas fan meeting tour. We’ve been busy, but whenever we had time we would compose songs and practice.

- You probably didn’t have a time to take a breather this year too; will you get a break after the year end festivals? Junior: That’s our freedom. Our company gladly accepts our proposals, so if we want to have a bigger bite and work more, we do that, if we want to take a rest, we can. However, we think that now’s the time that GOT7 has to work hard, so I want to continue working. I don’t want to rest (laughs).

- Personally, I think that <If You Do> is a song that marks the turning point for GOT7. What are your thoughts on that? Junior: Rather than a turning point, it was a challenge that could display a different image for GOT7. The colours of the seven GOT7 members are too different to carry on with the same concept all of the time, so even if it’s not something like <If You Do>, I think we will become a group that challenges various concepts in the future.

- You placed 1st at a music program for the first time since your debut, too. Did you feel rewarded for your efforts so far? JB: I think it was a chance that allowed us to feel to a greater extent that our fans have worked together with us. It’s not something we do for the reward, but it did become a driving force that pushes us to work even harder further on. Just like when you get scolded all the time, and then get praised and you automatically work harder.

- JB, you are the centre of the team as its leader, and if you were to grade your performance for the last 2 years, what mark would you give yourself? JB: Hmm, I don’t think I did that well (laughs). I wasn’t even that bossy as a leader, and I didn’t really take the initiative and set an example (laughs). It’s because we have this atmosphere where the members fix everything together by talking about it, in case something happens.

- Junior, what are your thoughts on this? Junior: Actually, I’m not the one to judge, but I think he’s doing really great because the role of a leader is not something fancy, it’s a silent role.

- You’ve been together since JJ Project days, when do you help each other the most? JB: When I need a serious advice with my worries? It’s just that, the topic is not something personal; we talk more about the direction or the path that GOT7 needs to take in the future. It really helps a lot. Junior: When I get a lot of complicated thoughts. It’s been like this ever since JJ Project. It’s not like I share my worries intentionally, it sort of comes out naturally while talking. When that happens, it helps me to sort out things. JB: We don’t say “Let’s now talk about our worries.” When we talk it just turns into counseling.

- When do you think that you really match well? Junior: (Our) serious character? JB: Yes, that’s right. (laughs) Junior: Some time ago, I used to be noisy, but now I have calmed down. When I need to concentrate, hyung adjusts the atmosphere next to me so that I wouldn’t lose my focus.

- Now that I think of it, you two seem to be really gentle. The gentlest out of all the idols I’ve seen so far (laughs). JB: That’s why we have decided to lighten it up. Both of us. Especially, if we feel that the interview is getting heavier, we tell each other to go “lightly, lightly!” (laughs)

- Your serious disposition may also become your advantage. Aside from that, what is your biggest worry lately? Junior: The worry of how I should live through the cold in winter? JB: Even though we decided to tread lightly, this is too light. (laughs) Junior: I really can’t stand the cold, you know. Was it too light? JB: In my case, it’s “what should I do to become real?” Junior: Isn’t that too heavy? JB: Every group, and every member of a group has an individual colour, right? How do I express GOT7’s colour, and the colour of JB in all that? How does the colour that GOT7 expresses shines to the general public? Rather than constantly following the trend trying to look cool, I’m thinking how we can become the “real” GOT7.

- When you are in a group of men, you also end up fighting, right? How do you solve that? JB: We don’t exchange blows. We solve it by talking. Even though the conversation sounds like an argument (laughs). Junior: We sometimes open a 100-minute debate with the members. JB: If, for example, some members start fighting over something, then we all gather together in one place and talk it through. Junior: If I get into an argument with Jaebeom hyung, then Jackson would say “I think Jaebeom hyung is right,” and another member would go “I think Jinyoung hyung is right,” and like that we mediate everyone’s opinions. Rather than pointing out who did wrong, we reach positive conclusion by saying things like, you should try and correct this point, or you should try and understand where each of you comes from. (laughs)

- I read your previous interviews, both of you seem to like doing something on your own. Is it because you always spend your time surrounded by people? JB: Even if there are many people around, I like doing something on my own in the midst of all that. I have a cat character, so even if you pay no attention to me, I’m the type to do my thing in my own way. Once on my day off I went to a foot of a mountain, but when I found myself in a quiet place with no people I got so frustrated I couldn’t stay there. Junior: I’m the opposite. I enjoy contemplation on my own, read, watch a lot of movies. I watched “Secret Sunshine” yesterday.

- Indeed. I’ve found a lot of talk about books and movies in your previous interviews. Junior: I’m growing to like all things analogue. JB: It’s really nice to read a book on your own with your notebook playing some music at some café in Hongdae.

- Don’t you get recognized if you go to a café? JB: We’re not of that level yet. Junior: And Hongdae is simply far away. It’s okay. (laughs)

- Ey, aren’t you too humble? It’s been almost 2 years since your debut, where do you think GOT7 is at right now? JB: If we compare it to riding a subway, it’s like we’ve just validated our bus card. Junior: That would be the T-money card. Bus card is just for a bus, subway card is for subway. (laughs) JB: At the MAMA ceremony, in behind cut, Big Bang’s Taeyang senior said that he feels like after 10 years he’s finally little by little doing the stages he’s been dreaming about. I also dream big. That’s why now it feels like I’ve made one step forward. Just as he’s said, I’ve just validated my T-money card. (laughs)

- When do you feel the best during your activities? Junior: When I get lost in something when I focus a lot. When I don’t even remember what I was doing, I feel catharsis. JB: When I compose songs. I don’t think I can concentrate this much on anything else.

- These emotions become your driving force, right? Junior: Of course. The moment you think you can’t focus on something you like, you have to stop everything.

- Do you have a role model you look up to? Junior: My father. I think about him a lot lately. Actually, my father will have had it tens of times harder than me. Then I wonder how he managed to go through it without giving himself away to his family, how he looked after a disobedient kid like me for over 22 years.

- But you have an image of an obedient kid who doesn’t cause problems? Junior: That’s just on the outside. (laughs) I always get the feeling that my father is great. I want to be someone like my father. I will become a superman-like dad to my children in the future, too. JB: Before, I used to think a lot who I would want to look up to, but now it’s really hard to pinpoint just one person. The number of people I’ve met and got influenced by has grown, and each of them had different strengths.

- Another year has gone by. What was the year 2015 like? JB: We had a lot of opportunities to stand on stage as GOT7. Personally, it was a year of growth that allowed me to sing, compose, and mull over various thoughts.

- Then, what would you wish for GOT7 in the year 2016? Junior: I hope we get more opportunities to try something new. We always have a team meeting where we talk about what we would like to try doing next year as a team and individually. Starting with the things already planned, I hope this will be a year where we face new opportunities. For example, making an album on our own, or each of us nurturing our capabilities in individual activities and thus making the team grow even more. JB: Since I’ve decided to tread lightly, I’ll go lightly. I wish for a warm year. I wish the year 2016 were healthy and great year full of fighting spirit! (laughs)

- Finally, if you were to say a word to each other? Junior: Let’s really become lighter in the year to come! (laughs) JB: The same. Let’s try to become somewhat lighter. No need to become super light, but it’d be great to become a witty person. Junior: I don’t want to refer to anyone in particular, but when we look at the great artists we admire, whoever that person might be, there’s an optimistic side to them, I think.

- Optimistic people are good with generating interesting and original ideas. (laughs) JB: Actually, I’m an optimistic person, but when I start doing an interview, for some reason, I get too reverent. Junior: Probably because an interview is a type of a “chronicle.” (laughs)

Scans: Jr. RAM

Kor-Eng: Seven Cookies

#got7 #GOT7 JB #GOT7 JAEBEOM #GOT7 INTERVIEW #GOT7 TRANS #JB INTERVIEW #JB TRANS #JAEBEOM INTERVIEW TRANS #DEFDAILYinterview

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Summary: Chloe and Lucifer are survivors in a post apocalyptic world trying to make it through life step by step. (The cause is not biblical, but still falls in the canonical universe of the show.)

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter and the little goodies within it! Comments are greatly loved and appreciated! (Sorry it’s been a year lol)

Chapter Five

Fighting one's instinct versus knowledge on the situation at hand was becoming very clear to Chloe as she ventured deeper into the brush and away from Lucifer. Together, the Devil was vulnerable to any injury he received. Yet, as crudely humorous as it was, the same could be said when she was separated from him. Vulnerability. Such a fine skill to hold during the end of the world.

Twigs scraped against the detective's skin as walked as silently as she could. Every time a dead leaf crunch underneath her shoe, the more on edge she became. Despite their remote location, it was never a bad thing to be on the alert for looters. Or worse. These dark times had really turned some into true monsters. The things she'd witness, the stories she'd heard. It was something she tried to never think about, pushed far back to the outer limits of her mind.

Not much further, Chloe. She said to herself. Soon enough you can turn around and go back to Lucifer and-

There came a rustling noise behind her, a very distinct, undeniable sound. Chloe's blood ran cold as she froze in place, mouth completely dry. It came again, closer now. Heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears, she tried to decipher the sound. Human? Animal? Before the next foot fall, the detective began to sprint.

Noise seemed to come from every direction as Chloe ran blindly through the dying forest. Blood pumping, breathing ragged, she kept going and going as what she could only presume was her hunter closing in on its prey. Just as she thought her limbs couldn't move any faster, someone grabbed her from behind.

"Detective," Lucifer tried to steady Chloe as she struggled against him, still in a state of defense. "Detective, it's just me. It's Lucifer."

"Something," she swallowed thickly, gasping for air as she pointed behind her. "Something-"

"It's alright," he soothed, letting her lean into him. "It was just a deer."

There, standing a few hundred feet away from them, Chloe could just make out the body of a doe. The creature seemed to meet her gaze, dark eyes staring back curiously. How odd it was to see such a thing out in this wasteland. A forest once teeming with life now stripped of its beauty. How the animal had survived this long, she wasn't sure. Before she could even make a remark, the deer bounded off, leaving both Chloe and Lucifer alone once more.

Embarrassment flushed in her cheeks as the adrenaline faded away. Months ago, or however long it'd been, she'd gone for her gun first. Fight versus flight. But just then, her gut reaction was to run. Flee into the uncharted woods and into a trap for all she knew. She was exhausted, strained from their days trekking through the wilderness. Sometimes it even surprised her that her sanity had somewhat remained intact.

"Shit!" She cursed, breaking away from Lucifer. Her foot connected with a small stone, sending it flying into the base of a tree. "I could've just gotten us both killed. If it had been...if I had…"

"Technically, you could claim that I was at fault since I'm the reason we're down here in the first place." He gave a tired smile, hoping she'd take to his crude attempt at humor. She didn't. "Everything's fine now," he reassured, moving to her side. "We're okay and that's what's important." Lucifer dangled his leg in front of her. "Good as new!"

Chloe's mouth twitched into a small smile, her head shaking at the gesture. Optimism at its finest. Inhaling softly, she reached over and gave his hand a small squeeze. The Devil's eyes flickered down to her fingers before flashing up to meet her gaze.

"No more injuries," she murmured, her smile weary.

"None," he agreed.

XXX

Even though she was expecting it, the sound of shattering glass still startled her as Chloe watched Nate ram a rock straight into the vending machine. It took a couple good strikes, and while she knew Lucifer could easily do it in one with his fist, she didn't feel the need to explain her partner's true nature to their group. So she waited hungrily, the desire to eat overpowering the guilt of stealing.

"Hell yeah," the young man chuckled, lunging straight for a bag of cheese puffs. "I love these damn things!"

But before Nate could even open his beloved prize, Lucifer quickly snatched it from his grasp. The man reeled around, a look of pure resentment burning in his eyes as the Devil held it just out of his grasp. Unlike him, the others had not immediately gone into a frenzy for the food. While each one of them wanted nothing more than to dig into whatever the machine offered, it was a silent agreement some sort of rules needed to be set in place.

"Give. That. Back." Nate growled, trying in desperation to retrieve his meal. "That's mine. I earned it!"

"Ha," Lucifer snorted, clearly amused by the other man's desperation. "If anything, you've earned yourself a first class ticket to Hell-"

"We need to ration," Chloe interrupted, throwing her partner a look. "Despite our luck in finding this before someone else, we need to figure out how to divide this to last." Her eyes flickered to the vandalized machine and the junk food it held. "Not that candy and chips are the best form of nutrition."

Though the machine was far from empty, it clearly hadn't been refilled before the chaos hit. Off brand chips, some chocolate bars of various kinds, gummies that looked a little stale even from where Chloe was standing, and a few packs of gum. That was it. Empty calories that would cause them to crash and burn energy. But it was all they had and anything was better than nothing.

"Come on," Nate groaned. "We've had barely anything to eat in the past several days. I'm starving. We all are!" He wildly gestured to the others. "What's one bag of chips going to do?"

"I'm with Chloe," Ruth spoke up, moving to the detective's side. "We need to have a plan. If we're going to make it far." She swallowed, her shoulders rising as she inhaled. "Before we turn on each other."

"You have my vote," Charlie agreed, throwing Nate a cold look. "Sometimes you have to sacrifice to get things done."

"Mine too," Kate added, her eyes focused on the ground. "It's for the best, I think."

All eyes fell on Lucifer, who, still holding the chips, simply shrugged. "You know whose side I'm always on." Chloe's smile only deepened Nate's scowl. "Especially when it comes to crisp eating pricks-"

"It's settled then," the detective cut in before Lucifer could finish. "We split things up. Divide and conquer." With a small smile, she reached in and grabbed a bag of old gummies. "So how do we go about this?"

After much debate, mostly on Nate's part, the snacks were gathered and split up. They had a good few days worth of "meals" if one would call them that. Chloe's stomach was already twisting at the look of all the sweets. It wasn't that she didn't like sugary foods-she really did, but for however long it would last, that's what her diet would consist of.

"Eat."

The detective was pulled from her thoughts as Lucifer continually poked at her with a chocolate bar. She eyed him carefully before taking the candy and breaking it in half. Handing him his piece, she began to nibble on hers, trying not to cram the entire thing down in one bite. She didn't have to look at the Devil to know he wasn't consuming his.

"Eat your own," she mumbled. "I'm fine."

"I'm not hungry," he countered. "You have it. I don't even like chocolate." Like a child, he obnoxiously poked her with it again. "Quick, it's melting in my hands and I don't want my clothes to get bloody chocolate stains on top of everything else."

Chloe huffed and shook her head. "You're being ridiculous right now, you know that?"

"And you love me for it," he smirked before forcing the treat into her hand. "Now eat, I'll be fine. I'll just have a few extra licorice whips later."

They both knew that it'd be a long while before they'd eat again, but neither spoke up about it. Instead, Chloe just leaned against him feeling his arm wrap around her waist. The wind began to blow, but only silence followed in its wake.

XXX

"Damn mosquitoes!"

Lucifer slapped the back of his neck as they trudged on through the woods. The air was sticky and the heat made Chloe's head spin. Despite the fact they were heading up north, the weather had turned out of their favor. Days had passed since they last saw rain, maybe even weeks. She was too tired, too thirsty to concentrate.

"Hey, hey," she hadn't even realized she was slipping down to the ground before Lucifer grabbed her. "Stay with me, detective. I know it's hotter than Hell, but we have to keep walking. We have to find water, yes?"

Chloe nodded her head weakly, her dry lips smacking together as Lucifer threw her arm around his neck. Weather seemed to be going from one extreme to the next. Maybe it was normal. Maybe it was from the bombs. But she needed to fight through this. Fight to stay alive. Survive for Trixie. For Lucifer.

"You know what I want," her voice slurred as if she was drunk. "A nice, big swimming pool of water that I could drink out of."

"I could go for a few shots of whiskey myself," he added, but a glass of water would be nice too I suppose." He chuckled, but Chloe could hear the worry in his tone. "Tell you what, we survive this and I'll build you the biggest bloody pool in all of Los Angeles."

"And we'll skinny dip," Chloe mumbled deliriously. "It's too hot for clothes."

"Ooh, you are quite the temptress, detective," Lucifer smirked, shifting to carry more of her weight. "I'll hold you to that."

They continued to walk on, Chloe growing more and more out of it as they went. Lucifer fear for her outdid his own concern for his well being as they pressed on. He knew if they didn't find some source of water soon, their outcome wouldn't be so pleasant. If running Hell was still a concern of his, he'd consider making this a torture option.

"Lucifer," Chloe murmured, bringing Lucifer back to reality. "If something happens to me-"

"Stop," he interrupted firmly. "It won't."

"But if it does-"

"It. Won't."

For a brief moment, his eyes flickered a crimson red. Though his anger was not aimed at Chloe. No. Literally at everything but her. As they moved on, almost painfully slow, suddenly the detective's voice broke through the silence.

"Lucifer, look," she nearly rasped. "A house!"

At first, he thought she was hallucinating, her hand shaking as she pointed towards the distance. He was going to ignore her words when his eyes did too catch a glimpse of something past a thicket of trees. By Father, she was right. There was a house. Right in the middle of bloody nowhere. The Devil couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face.

"Why my dear detective, I believe we found something much better than a pool," he breathed, looking down at her. "Much better indeed."

At least, he hoped as much.

#Deckerstar #Lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #Chloe Decker #Lucifer on Netflix #Through The Ashes

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babblable · 3 years

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23, Honestly:

On one hand, I never thought I'd be 23. On the other, I'm told I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm not saying their wrong but... it feels a little like it's invalidating the 23 years I've already lived.

And sometimes, I think I've wasted those years.

No. I know I've wasted those years. I wasted those years believing lies that I had been told about my dreams and followed the wrong one. It's only now that my real desire has been reignited and I feel an odd sense of shame in it for reasons I can't place.

I do a lot of art on this blog. Play a lot of dnd and reblog a bunch of random things. And I do a lot of drawings or doodles for those random things and dnd. This is because art was the One Thing no one questioned me doing, or told me that I "had to do/be x to be/do this thing." I spent decades drawing because of that, went to a college that screwed me over because of it. I have done so much sacrificing my own happiness for art. All because that was the dream everyone around me supported without giving me ultimatums that even as a small child, I knew I couldn't live up to. It was my freedom. And don't get me wrong, I do love doing it!!!! I love it a lot! The joys of creation never die for me!..... but it isn't what I want. It isn't The Dream that I wanted to follow.

No, that dream was sailing. My curious brain was enraptured the moment I laid eyes on her when I was 4 years old. The second I touched her, surrounded by her, swimming with dolphins, I was hers. Sailors love her, but they fear her all the same. I felt that since then. I have longed since then. Quietly. Every quieter with time passing, I have longed for the ocean.

I used to live in a state where the ocean was merely 4hrs away. Now I live in a landlocked state, due to parental reasons before I became of age. However, as I have no means of moving yet, I long still.

The funny thing is, I know it would be easier to achieve if I just. talked to someone about it.

But unfortunately, I have no idea how. You see, when I told my family, as a small 5 year old, that I wanted to be a sailor, they looked at me and said "You'll have to join the Navy for that. You won't last long." and desiring to prove them wrong, I pouted and waited.

Funny thing about that too. Military doesn't take people with disabilities, for a variety of reasons, some of which I can actually understand. Some. Not All. *Some*. Regardless, I was diagnosed with Autism at 7 and from the way they made it sound back then and family starting to tell me instead "You can't be sailor. They won't let you into the Navy, now.", I thought- I believed- that that dream was dead. So I chose something else.

Veterinarian.

They destroyed that dream instantly by telling me I'd have to put down animals. I understood the reasons it was such a necessity, but I knew myself well enough to know that no matter how much time went by, even if it was necessary and I understood why and AGREED with it, I would never be able to do it. It would hurt me too much and I'd be in constant emotional pain from the sadness and guilt. You would think that's a small price to pay, but I knew then that I wouldn't last long in that field due to all of that turmoil. Trying and then leaving in a field that involved? When I know I won't last? What an unfair thing to do.

I tried many different dreams. Constuction: "You're too scrawny, you'll need stronger bones for that". Scientist: "Your grades are terrible and it requires a lot of math. You'll need much better scores for that." Farmer: "You'll need lots of money and with your status, you'll have a hard time." Policemen: "You'll have to be ready to kill people."(No, I am not joking with you on this one. I wish I was. And looking back now, as someone Very ACAB? Catch me looking back at tiny baby me like: Just wait 3 more months and you'll never wanna interact with a cop again and your hatred for them will only grow with time)

I listed many dreams and interests until I finally threw up my hands and said "I wanna draw cartoons!" and was surprised when... no one said anything bad had to be done to do so. Instead of "You have to do/be-", I heard "Aw, that's adorable! What kind of cartoon do you wanna make?" and "I think that's great! You're already so talented for your age!" and "You can do it! I bet you'll be as famous as Walt Didney!"

It was. disappointing. It wasn't what I really wanted. But the validation I got. It was like a rush of relief and energy that I dove further into my art.

Right into a pit of depression.

Granted, my depression wasn't caused entirely by this. Nah, this was honestly a very small part of it compared to the other things. But it certainly has a weight to it and it definitely has done a number on me.

A number that I am only now realizing is actually.. quite large.

I've spent my whole life chasing a dream that isn't mine, all because people who don't know what they're talking about told me I couldn't follow what I wanted and me being young and trusting, believed them without question.

I'm 23 today. I question more. I question perhaps a little too much.

My love and longing for the ocean and to sail never died. It was just... subdued. I've had nautical/ocean themed rooms ever since I came back from swimming wjth the dolphins at 4. It changed sometimes, but it always went back to her. I used to swim like a fish until I nearly drowned at 13 bc an ex-friend fooled me into following her into her pool. I'd dream of it, almost constantly. Loved movies centered around it or marine life. Loved lakes and picking up shells and making things with them. Loved collecting sand from all the lakes I went. I may need to relearn how to swim, but I'm willing and ready now.

Still, I thought it wasn't possible for me to be a sailor. All because my birth family told me I had to join the Navy to do so.

It wasn't until recently that I learned that that was a lie. Perhaps it wasn't intentional and merely a statement made in ignorance, but I can never be sure, given my birth family's history.

And yet, here I lay, in my bed, age 23, knowing now that I can just. Be a Sailor. longing so desperately, the desire reignited and growing with each passing day.

but not knowing where to start. or how. I'll be the first to admit that I know jack shit about it, but I am willing to learn. I want to learn.

Google is always an option. But I don't think it's a smart one?

Perhaps when I am 24 I will achieve it.

#leeym talks #dreams #sailing #art #tw: depression #tw: drowning mention #tw: cops mention #tw: military mention #been thinking about this for months now #debating #its getting hard to debate and not just ram myself into it #the passion burns #which is ironic #but i want to be smart about this

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long-roads-travelled · 5 years

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Chapter 7 Part 1

I lit a fire in the fireplace, trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t bother Ossian and Deklan. It was just three in the morning, according to the clock in the kitchen, and I’ve only slept an hour. I sighed when the fire went and promptly sat on the floor in front of it, my hugging my knees in the otherwise dark and lifeless room. The few mounted heads of rabbits and rams Dek had killed long ago leered at me from the wall to my left.

Owl’s hooting and fox’s barks somewhere out in the woods kept me company in the dimness. The crackling of the fire did too, but it wasn’t living. The flame itself was comforting to stare into, but not enough tonight.

The scuffle I had with Duana a couple days ago hadn’t stopped bothering me. It wasn’t because of Duana herself, though. The way she gripped my neck… well, it brought back memories. Memories I’ve tried so hard to erase that wouldn’t stop trickling back now. I wasn’t yet strong enough to fight them back for good, it seems. Memories, distant shouts of my father’s neverending anger and the far-away shattering of things began to take me over, stomping down any rational thought I’d had beforehand.

I started rocking back and forth, biting my lip with my ears fully pinned. My da’s angry, whiskey-slurred voice rang out in my head nonstop, telling me about how I’d never be worth anything no matter who married me. My ma’s voice shouting, berating me for being unable to have a child most times, hating how I couldn’t keep a spouse. Both of them getting violent.

I began to breathe harder than usual, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to block out the voices, but to no avail. I couldn’t hear anything else. I felt like I was back there. I thought I was.

“You’ll never be worth shit,” I heard. “You’re a damn slag! It’s no wonder you can’t keep anyone you marry!” he bellowed, that gravelly, commanding voice erupting from his throat and echoing through the raggedy old house.

He finished the whiskey and threw the bottle at me with the force of the winter winds on the coast, but missed. I heard the shattering of glass on the wood floor. “Can’t have no kids, can’t ‘ardly weave. Wha’s the point’a ya?! Layin’ ‘round here, wastin’ me precious time!”

I could only sob. It wouldn’t stop.

“A worthless scanger!” He found a fag in his pocket and lit it. A puff of smoke came from his mouth soon after. “I ought’a kill ya. Feed ya to the hounds, out in them feckin’ fields!” I could see him get closer, pointing at me. “You are dead to me. A disappointment! I should’a had a wee laddie. I bleedin’ deserve one!” He threw his fist back, winding up.

I felt a large hand on my shoulder as soon as my father reeled back, flinching away from it hard. I heard a voice, but couldn’t register who it was. “Go ‘way, g-go ‘way!” I pleaded, wailing. “I haven’t d-done an-nythin’!”

“Connie! Hey!” went the voice. I finally recognized it was Deklan, whimpering quietly as I came back to reality, curled up and rocking.

“Connie, you’re okay. You’re safe. Ossian and I are here. Calm down,” he said with the softest voice, keeping a fair distance away and crouched. “Whatever’s got you panicking isn’t here anymore.”

“Mm…” I kept my eyes down, my tail thrashing across the rug. One of them draped a quilt around my shoulders and I basically hid in it. I grunted and rubbed my belly before crossing my arm over it.

“Back with us, mate?” Dek asked. His patience was unmatched.

“Y-yeah,” I muttered. I rubbed my eyes, sniffling. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It happens,” Dek whispered. He held a hand out towards me, an attempt to be supportive. I looked at it warily, then hesitantly took it. “There we are. Just calm yourself down, Connie,” he crooned, squeezing my hand with the most sincere gentleness. He inched closer, always making sure I was okay with it.

I sighed shakily and looked back down at the floor. I felt horrible for waking them up this early, but I wouldn’t dare say anything. I pulled the quilt tighter around myself, then rubbed my eye, still shaking like a wee leaf.

“Tea?” Ossian offered. I hadn’t noticed he was there, so I jumped, but nodded and took the mug, sniffing it before I sipped it.

Sterrin the buzzard flew out of his cage and landed on the floor in front of me, tilting his head. He’d been away for a couple days, so to see him safe and well again was a relief. I sighed quietly and extended my leg, letting him hop onto what wasn’t under a blanket, rubbing my arm as I took a sip of my tea.

The three of us sat in a comfortable silence for a good while, maybe an hour, Ossian and Dek knowing I preferred it like that when I was upset.

I stared into the fire, mesmerized by it. Who wouldn’t be? I got lost in my thoughts, absently running my thumb back and forth on my bicep. I didn’t pay any mind when Ossian told Deklan that he was going back to bed.

I knew my parents were miles away now—Hell, they were on the opposite end of the island—but for some reason, I still felt panic and dread when they came to mind. Would they come looking for me? Kill me for running? I don’t know. It was a hellish thing to think about, but it came up almost every night, even five years later.

“Hey,” Deklan whispered after the silence, “you wanna talk about it?”

“Uhm.” I shifted uncomfortably, flicking an ear lightly. I cleared my throat. “Not really.”

“That’s okay, I understand,” he hummed, his voice soft and comforting. “I’m here if you ever do.”

“Thanks,” I sighed. Eventually, I looked at him, understandably shy. “Uh. Would ya mind if I... slept in your room with you?”

“Sure man, whatever you think’s gonna help.” Dek got up, helping me up as well. Sterrin squawked and hopped off of my leg when I moved, going off elsewhere.

I followed Deklan back to the guest room he was staying in, rubbing my side, my ears still pinned back. He let me get settled in bed, saying he’d go put out the fireplace. I let him, curled up against the rickety headboard by the time he came back a few minutes later.

—————————

As the sun rose slowly over our patch of woods, a few birds chirped to welcome its presence, the rustle of woodland creatures outside providing background noise. It had finally stopped snowing and the clouds have dispersed. The measly rays of the winter sun peeked through the curtains, so Sterrin hopped out of the makeshift nest that was underneath one nightstand and fluttered up onto the bed, waddling over our legs. They must’ve seemed mountainous to him.

That combined with the sun hitting my face made me finally wake up. I’d slept better with Dek there than I expected, but I wasn’t complaining. I grunted and shooed Sterrin away, which made him squawk, but he did hop off and go into another room. Presumably to Ossian’s room to pester him for food instead. I chuckled at the thought of it; that scrawny bit of a stallion, being harassed by a buzzard! What a sight.

There was a squawk and a distant gekker of surprise from Ossian’s room, followed by muffled jabbering and hoofsteps towards the kitchen a minute later. Atta boy, Sterrin.

I moved to lay back against my elbows, looking down at the still-sleeping Dek beside me. The gargantuan bey he was could hardly fit on the bed, which was obviously made for the humans before us who were under 185 centimeters, so he’d curled up during the night. His hair was fantastically bonkers, too. The fact that I was friends with one of the most amazing beygir in town was astonishing, really. A lowlife runaway like me actually making friends was a shock on its own.

I debated whether or not I should wake him up. I did keep them up pretty late the night before, so I decided not to, as much as I needed one of his absolutely fucking stellar hugs right now. I guess it would be best to let him sleep. Mustn’t risk a cranky giant stomping around.

I stared at him, tracing his face with my eyes as I got to thinking about the question he’d asked me in the woods during our little walk back from the river ages ago. Were things better in Rosnya? Skies above, what a loaded question. I didn’t have a clue. Surely it’s better than this righteous hellhole. All the papers say that Rosyna’s a treacherous land, but knowing the Cotharian government, well…

Bah, I mustn’t get too down on that. I’ve already got myself to get me upset. I’m sure Rosnya’s just fine. I’ve heard that the Rosnyan Empress—Sarangerel, I think—is a bit aloof and awkward, but she seems like a good bey. She cares, or at least tries her hardest to. That’s got to be at least somewhat admirable.

Outside, a nearby bird chirped, snapping me out of my thoughts again. I sat upright again and leaned over Deklan to grab my sketchpad from my nightstand, pursing my lips at the effort it took to not topple onto him. Like I said, don’t want a cranky giant.

“Aha! Got you, bitch,” I muttered to myself upon grabbing the sketchpad and pencil. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed to face the window, then began to draw the usual, yet undeniably stunning, scenery outside. How could I not?

I sighed through my nose, pausing my hand for a minute to think and look up, which was when I also rubbed across my chest absentmindedly. A wee habit of mine, let’s say. I kept on with sketching out the low-lying shrubbery, twisting my hoof as I focused. It was a good time killer, this.

A good while passed—I don’t know how long exactly, but I was nearly halfway done—before I felt the bed shift. I closed the pad and looked behind me to see Dek grumbling with his arm over his eyes. He muttered something about the sun being a cunt, which made me snicker.

“Good mornin’ to ya, toss-head,” I said teasingly, putting my sketchpad up. “Slept in pretty late.”

“Ah, bugger off,” he whined, raising his hand to wave me off. I giggled again.

“I will never,” I grinned and tapped the white spot on the tip of his nose. “As long as you’re in my house, you’ll deal with me and my annoying ways.”

“Shite.” Deklan groaned and sat up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Do I gotta?”

“Yes. Now let’s go see if Ozzy’s made breakfast.” I hopped up, slapping his stomach with a cackle before scampering out to the main room.

“Oi! You—“ Dek huffed and chased me, grabbing me from behind. “Come here, squirt!”

“Lemme go!” I squealed, giggling and squirming around. “Noooo!”

“Feeling better from last night already, hey?” Dek commented, a laugh in his voice now too as he held onto me persistently.

“I might be,” I said through laughs. “Now lemme down, you gargantuan prick!”

“What’re you two gurriers doing?” Ossian chided lightly, peering in from the kitchen at us.

“Connie-boy here slapped my belly when I woke up!”

“And he won’t let me go!” I added, still wiggling around.

“Bozos,” Ossian chuckled. “As long as you aren’t killing each other, I guess.”

Dek and I laughed and went back to it, playful growls filling the the room. I gave up on wiggling and turned around in his arms. I climbed up him, swatting his hands away when he tried to pull me off. Cackling mischievously, I maneuvered around to perch on his shoulders, then draped my miniscule self over his head so my nose was against his beard. “Hello!”

“Bastard,” Dek giggled, lightly slapping his hands on my cheeks.

“Thank you. I take that as a compliment,” I stated confidently. I bit his nose playfully, then wiggled down to the floor while he laughed at me.

I sighed and rolled my shoulders once I was at ground level, running my hand through my wild hair, a smile still on my face. It was nice to get my mind off of things for a bit. I skipped over to see what Ossian was doing, wedging my face under his arm since he was so tall, although I did have to slouch over. He snorted at me in amusement and moved his arm to let me.

“Whatcha makin’?” I asked , grinning when he just giggled and shook his head.

“Ulster fry. Gosh, you’re in a fun mood this morning, huh?” Ossian poked my nose. I nipped at his finger, snorting ridiculously through my nose as I did so, which made him jump slightly and cackle.

“That answer your question?” I giggled, finally taking my head out from under his arm. Deklan was making tea now, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise.

“I guess it does,” Ossian chuckled.

I hummed softly, deciding to go get dressed while those two were busy. I popped into my room and closed the door, flinging off my pajamas. I opened my wardrobe and pulled out a cream-and-black chevron sweater, putting it on over my head before crouching down to find some pants, putting them on too. “Now, a final touch…” I muttered happily to myself, slapping on my old and worn leather flat cap with a grin just after. The black leg wraps went on before I left, going to sit at the kitchen table.

“Aye, the man’s clean on! Goin’ somewhere spiffy today then, mate?” Deklan erupted happily, looking at me.

Shyly, I grinned and shook my head, taking a seat in the chair in front of the window. “Nah. Figured I’d look nice for myself, you know. It helps with things like last night,” I replied honestly, looking down as I ran my finger along the grain of the wooden table. Deklan nodded in understanding and came to sit with me.

“Yeah, I get ya,” he sighed, watching my finger. “What was that about, anyway?”

I bit my lip at that, debating whether or not to tell him. Eventually I just shook my head. “I’ll tell ya later,” I murmured, my tail flicking from side to side rhythmically. “Right now I think it’s time to stuff our faces.”

“Agreed,” Deklan hummed, apparently not minding the change in topic. Ossian came over with plates for each of us and set them down in front of us, a smile on his face, as usual. Dek dove in immediately, and I chuckled at him as I ate in a decent manner, going for the sausage first. A pleased little hum came from my throat.

“By God, Dekkie, slow down. You’ll choke on somethin’,” Ossian chided and lightly gave him a pap on the head. Deklan looked up at him, his cheeks looking quite similar to a chipmunk’s and his fluffy ears pricked forward.

“Oh. Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the copious amount of food in his mouth. I giggled at him, which made him turn to look at me. “Wha’s so funny?”

“You— you’re— ha!” I snorted, laughing harder once I could see just how silly his cheeks were. He leaned closer to me, also smiling now, which just made me laugh even harder because of how ridiculous he looked. I hit the table, making the silverware clatter.

“Whaaaat?”

“Stop l-lookin’ at me!” I managed to get out through cackles, waving my hand at him. He giggled and swallowed his food, finally letting me catch my breath. Ossian was laughing at me now too, but mostly at our combined ridiculousness.

I kept giggling to myself anyway, in a drastically better mood than last night, which I intended to remain. I sighed eventually and continued on with eating my breakfast. We sat in a comfortable silence after that. Ossian finished first and got up to take his plate to the sink, his usual humming emanating from wherever he was.

“Lads,” Dek spoke up, “we should take a wee trip into town. See if we can find our mate Officer O’Driscoll,” he proposed, turning to look at Ossian when he said the last part. Ossian, unsurprisingly, perked up at that.

“Sure, I can do that. Let me get myself together,” Ozzy said giddily.

Deklan turned to look at me, his bushy blond eyebrows raised. “Whaddabout you, rawny?”

“I guess I can tag along,” I shrugged. “I still don’t like him much.”

“He’s a fine man, Connie.”

“Sure, but, well… I don’t trust the military,” I stated. I feel like I’ve said that millions of times in the past month.

“Give ‘im a chance, mate. He seems harmless enough,” Dek whined at me, his ears pinning and tail snaking about. It was hard to say no to him when he pulled that move.

“Ugh… Alright, fine. I will.” I rapped my fingers on the table before getting up. Deklan fist pumped in triumph, then headed off to put on better clothes, leaving me alone in the main room.

I looked around the place and sighed. My ears went back after a minute. I couldn’t help but acknowledge the feeling that something would go wrong today. Sighing, I shook my head and dismissed it just as the other two came back. They were pestering each other and laughing, as usual.

“Hey! Ready to go, pipsqueak?” Deklan chirped excitedly, stealing my cap to ruffle up my hair.

I snorted and turned to try and get it back, but he held it far above my head. “Really?” I huffed. Dek just snickered and nodded. “You’re forgetting something.” I jumped onto him, climbing up his tree trunk of a body, to which he squealed.

“Bastard! That’s cheating!”

“I’m getting it back fair ‘n square, shut up,” I snickered, giving him a pap on the head as I grabbed my cap back. I jumped down and put it back on with a victorious sigh.

“Whatever,” he chuckled, wiping off his shirt. He grabbed his canvas jacket and tossed me my trench coat, which I caught easily and put on. “No more climbin’ me.”

“Fine.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Ossian giggled as he put on his coat, shaking his head at us, making us giggle as well. He led the way out, Dek and I following him. Once we were on the path to town we picked up to a trot, but for me to keep up with their kilometer-long legs, I had to canter. Guess I didn’t mind some exercise.

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(this is labeled part 1 b/c i post from my phone so i have a paragraph limit and also it’s been too long since i’ve posted)

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