Tumgik
#just like the rest of us.... ill be waiting for similar pictures from day 3 and 4 ;;
taechnological · 2 years
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hobi wdym "????" the boy's obsessed with u what else 😭
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year in review woah
I posted 1,740 times in 2022
That's 1,333 more posts than 2021! remember when i would only post 3 times per day? yea that was pathetic
166 posts created (10%)
1,574 posts reblogged (90%)
Blogs I reblogged the most (i love how its only hermitcraft blogs)
@araccoonthatlikesmurder
@terrible-leviathan
@foryouthegays
@ghost-chi
@griancraft
Most used tags or smthn
#cameron monologues - 65 posts
#hhh - 55 posts
#hermitcraft - 49 posts
#[deadname] monologues - 48 posts
#mcyt - 33 posts
#grian - 22 posts
#dream smp - 21 posts
#relatable - 21 posts
#dsmp - 19 posts
#danganronpa - 19 posts
broo my mf tumblr tags deadnamed me
Longest Tag: 87 characters
#no wonder you don’t read that often mf you’ve never felt a single emotion while reading
that was me slandering ppl who dont read angst
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
MAGIC USERS AND THEIR DEFINITIONS (because i’m mentally unwell and needed something cool to research)
FOREWARNING: In this, I do say that “witch” and “wizard” are not gendered terms and witches are different from wizards. This is literally just my headcanon (for lack of a better word). Most fantasy media does say that they are the 2 magic genders, but it’s my post and i’m going with the definition that I like.
Abjurer: Specifically deals in protective spells and the suppression of others’ magic.
Alchemist: Focuses on potion making, chemistry and alchemy (I know, shocker).
Artificer: Magic craftsmen. They do not cast spells, and instead can infuse objects with magic (such as a sword or wand).
Bard: Casts divine magic using their music and charisma.
Cleric: Their magic is a favour from the Gods to them. They pray at the beginning of the day every day to get their powers.
Chiromancer: Specialises in palmistry or fortune telling.
Diviner: Uses magic to foresee or predict future events or to discover hidden knowledge.
Druid: Wields nature-themed magic. Like clerics, they get their magic from the gods.
Enchanter: A general name for someone who uses magic.
Hydromancer: Specifically focuses on controlling water or liquid.
Illusionist: Uses magic to create illusions. Also known as evokers or conjurers.
Mage: Similar to the sorcerer, but instead of relying on willpower and instinct, they are more uniform, while sorcerers are more on the creative side.
Necromancer: Specifically focuses on reanimation of the dead.
Oneiromancer: Specifically focuses on dreams and prediction of the future.
Pyromancer: Specifically focuses on controlling fire.
Sorcerer: Does not learn magic, and instead has it within them. This can be, for example, because it is in their bloodline.
Warlock: Gains magic from a divinity or higher power. The magic equivalent of fucking your teacher for grades.
Witch: Does magic that is particularly focused on plants, herbs, healing, and cooking. Witches mostly make potions and have familiars (most commonly cats, frogs/toads, rats or ravens)
Wizard: Learns magic from books and study. Many also have staffs, wands, or another means of casting spells.
Let me know if i missed anything!
585 notes - Posted August 24, 2022
ah, the magic gender discourse post
#4
LIBERAL WILL WOOD
THE DIFFERENT ALBUM
LAPLACE’S DEVIL
LOVE ME GAYLY
I/Me/Myself
BISEXUAL BOX WARRIOR
TRANGENDER LAWYER
TOMCAT DIVERSITY
886 notes - Posted August 18, 2022
i could have just put all the actual song titles
#3
every will wood song
[scatting] babygirl i am severely mentally ill
932 notes - Posted August 12, 2022
whys it always the will wood posts fr
#2
wait so you guys know how the hermit species is canonically short? and how they all keep calling bdubs short? i like to think bdubs is only a tiny bit smaller than the rest of them. like, not enough for an average person to notice but enough for the hermits to notice. i’m just picturing like
Grian (literally tiny compared to Joel): lmao bdubs is so short am i right
Joel (an 11-foot-tall god that can’t see the difference between them): uh. yeah lmao imagine.
2,026 notes - Posted November 6, 2022
this one was unexpected fr
My #1 post of 2022
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2,735 notes - Posted August 6, 2022
god every time i see this post i remember the person who said that scarian had more content than grumbo and i dont wanna engage in Shipping Discoure because im mature and have grown out of shipping wars but someone actually fucking hold me back. you come into MY house-
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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rosethornewrites · 2 years
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Wednesday & Thursday NR, E, & M reading
The usual
Finished
Not Rated:
Come Lay Your Head Down Beside Me, by Preludian_Staves (8 chapters)
“Enough of that now.” Shufu surprises him by squeezing his shoulder gently to quickly distract his spiraling thoughts. “You have been plenty useful, a-Ying. Now you must rest and let us do the work with your condition as it is. Trust that your husband and your family will take care of you, boy. We are here and we will not let you go.”
Cloak, Whip and Dagger, by Yen (3 chapters)
Jiang Cheng shows up at the Guanyin Temple, looking for Jin Ling.
This fixes everything.
Explicit:
sweetly restrained, by orro
“This looks so much easier in the picture,” Wei Wuxian mutters as he tries to reach for the end of the rope at his hips. His fingertips can barely touch it. He starts to fall and curses again as he lands on the floor.
Wei Wuxian rolls over onto his back and blows the strands of hair out of his face. He might have to wait here till Lan Wangji returns. But he wants to surprise him and this is just going to be a disappointment.
让我留在你身边 // let me stay by your side, by howodd5ever
In the aftermath of what they witnessed at Yi City, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian continue to skirt the truth of their feelings for each other.
Censer Driven, by tailor31415
Wei WuXian just can’t stop thinking about a moment from the incense burner dream and he finally works up the courage to ask Lan WangJi for an extended demonstration.
cartographist, by fruitys
“Ah, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying is trying to smile, but the line of his mouth is all wrong. “I know I was — different, before. You can say it.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Lan Wangji says. This is the only kind of lie he will tell to Wei Ying. He does know — Wei Ying thinks the way he looked before was better, preferable, more handsome, more desirable. “I like your body.”
“Then prove it to me,” Wei Ying says. He raises his chin, like a challenge. “Hanguang-jun, show me just how much you like this body of mine.”
Mature:
Dinner Etiquette, by diamondbruise
They were both adults, were they not? Lan Wangji did not know much about one-night stand etiquette, but he certainly knew what it meant when someone gave him a fake number. He would not push his company on Wei Ying, as it was unwanted. They could pretend, for this one dinner, to be perfectly normal adults with no sexual history, and that would be that.
or, lwj meets his one-night stand at an unexpected place
为温暖 // for warmth, by howodd5ever
“You were unconscious for three days. Someone had to check.” There’s a desperation in it, like Lan Zhan is begging him to please understand. Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “I did not tell anyone, but. Wei Ying. I had to check.”
Wei Wuxian wakes up after the final battle of the Sunshot Campaign.
Sizing him up…, by Liebing
This was it. He had finally pushed Lan Zhan too far. He had always wondered what would be the straw that broke the camel's back, would it be the piles of dirty dishes? The sketches carelessly thrown all over their shared living space? Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined the cause of his death would be bragging about the size of Lan Zhan’s dick to Su She of all people. Well at least he would die exactly the way he had lived…in the most ridiculous manner possible.
Unfinished
Not Rated:
In Which Soup is NOT the Solution, by such_stuff_as_dreams_are_made_on
Jin Zixuan reacts differently when it is revealed Jiang Yanli was making him soup. Somehow this leads to him bonding with Wei Wuxian.
Explicit:
Beautiful; The Flower that Blooms in Diversity, by Writer_AvenRose
Its been 13 years since Wei wuxian has gone missing. Presumed dead and in his place his followers erected the Yiling unorthodox sect. While the sect was the topic of much heated debate for the first five years, the unknown leader of the sect had quickly washed away any suspicion of ill will. Sending out advocates with gifts of peace and swiftly coming to aid of any sect that required it. Its good will had come to be known to be similar to the likes of the gusu lan clan.
As the yiling sect has finally agreed to participate in this year's sunshot tournament, relationships are tested. Dark memories and wounds are ripped open. Though in shallows of unsaid words yearning seems to be more an enemy then the old aching pain. When the final duel comes to an end where will wangji side. With his heart, or with the duty to his family ?
A tale of old wounds and new scarred opportunities; Of life past the bloody haze of death. A quest to mend festering misunderstandings. The true beauty of a love that blooms in the shadow of adversity along the bloodied mountain side.
Mature:
The Stages of Grief with Wei Wuxian, by Anonymous
Gusu Lan is renowned for helping the most troubled of spirits pass on. Wei Ying, however, would rather die than...well...die.
Butterflies In Love With Flowers, by inawritingfrenzy
Jiang Cheng brings back Wei Wuxian to Lotus Pier along with the Wen Remnants. The cultivation world is now on its toes. New alliances are formed and treacheries are revealed. In this time of crisis, they find love, second chances and much more.
(Un)Hidden truth, by Sarah_R
After watching his husband; his son; nephew; brother and little radishes dying in front of him one by one because of a source of resentful energy; Wei WuXian dies too as he destroys it.
But instead of darkness; he finds himself back in the past when he had just gotten kicked out of the cloud recess and everything looks so peaceful he can’t stand it. No…no no no he really can’t go through this hell again. Not again. Not after everything was supposed to be over.
Not knowing that Lan WangJi has been thrown back in time as well; he tries; and fails at taking his own life by slitting his throat open in the middle of lotus pier and so; he decides to show everyone the future.
If he’s going to live this hell again; he’s going to change it and if these people are suddenly so determined to keep him alive; then he’s not going to let them die either.
It doesn’t matter if they end up hating him just as much as he hates himself.
(Or; another time travel fix-it which happens to be a watching the show fic as well! With our favorite baby boy and his husband; all their ducklings and their very much alive family and friends from the past.)
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fanficmemes · 3 years
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Dear CB,
I am happy to hear you appreciated my last letter.
Your words are always kind and warm my soul in these dreadful days of deadlines and indecisive weather still not sure if the first blossom of summer is here or if the ice will return in our homes. It also made me rest easier in my bed to learn you are now better, after the sickly days subsequent to the medicine administration.
You are now free of the burden of the heavy cloud of sickness still cover our cities, and it make me happy.
You told me you would have liked to receive the recipe of the pie i told you about last time, so i will write it down in a paper to put in the same envelope of this one. I already excuse my persona for the verbosity i will submit you, but the power of synthesis is not something the sky gifted me.
Hope my letter will find you in good health and sweet mood,
With love,
Soupy.
Dear Soup, I'm writing this with the greatest of joys after receiving your recipe. It sounds heavenly, and am quite excited to enjoy it to the fullest.
Just as you say my words warmed you, so did your words keep me through those pale and cool spring days. I reread your most kind letter while in my illness, it helped greatly with recovery, I assure you.
If it's alright with you, I shall attach the recipe underneath my goodbyes, as I tend to lose things with great ease and it would pain me to lose such a gem as this. And never worry that chatter while baking would ever bother me, I find it quite lovely.
I hope this letter will find you far across the waters between us, and that it will bring a smile to your face and joy to your heart.
All love,
CB
Lemon pie recipe.
This doses are for a 22 cm diameter mold.
It is but a simple recipe, not so different from every other lemon pie you can probably find everywhere, but is the pie we always eat in my family, since sour lemons is something everyone of my affections love the taste. You can picture how much it make me silly laugh when i think about how my taste for the citrus extend also to my leisure reading times, but there are things we cannot tell properly in public, and i confide in the secrecy of our reading club.
The structure is the classic one, composed by a crust, a lemon cream and a sweet meringue.
For the base i am biased in using shortcrust, that better adapt to the type of cream and is quite easy to prepare, surely more than complex french pastry. Is of course understandable is a lack of time and desire to cook made you go instead for a modern storebought puff pastry.
For the crust you will need:
250g of all purpose flour
125 g of butter
1 egg
100 g of powdered sugar (also normal crystal sugar is good, it you prefer a more rough feeling)
A bit of lemon zest for taste.
Cut the butter and mix it with the flour, crumbling it till it reach a sable consistency. Add then the sugar, the egg and the lemon zest, and work with your hands till is smooth and workable. Is better to not strain it too much, or the gluten would form and instead of a crispy crust we would find ourself with an hard chewy bread. Let it rest in the fridge for at least an half hour. When rested, and remember to rest also yourself, work it in a flat disc or your preferred thickness and put it in an already buttered and floured mold. Cover with cooking paper and chickpeas to not let it rise in the oven.
The recipe would ask to cook it at a static 170 C° for 15 minutes, but experience always teach ovens are what of most similar exist in this world of hell work, so judge your oven history and control every couple of minutes so not to burn it to a crisp.
For the cream you will need:
5 to 8 lemons (and if your taste require it more)
3 eggs
150 g of flour and potato starch (usually i make half and half, but it can function even with all flour or all starch. All starch is advised if you will want to put the pie in the oven later to roast the meringue, since all flour will liquify the cream at strong temperature)
Sugar to taste
Separate the whites from the yolks. The yolks can be put in a pot, while the whites are to be put in another bowl to use for the meringue later.
Add the zest of all your lemons to the yolks (if you can find not treated lemon, if not this passage will be sadly skipped). Juice your lemons and add water till you reach 1 liter of liquid. Mix your lemon zested yolks, flour and starch and liquid, bit by bit, to have a smooth cream. Add sugar to taste, i personally add only two spoon, but i know the sour taste is not to everyone taste. Put the pot on low fire and mix till the cream become heavy and smooth and dense. Put it in the pastry shell. You can wait for the cream to cool a little, but be attentive at not waiting too much or it will solidify.
For the meringue you will need:
The whites of the cream eggs
200 g of sugar
I strongly prefer Italian meringue, being it faster to make and being myself in a strong enmity with the frenchs. Also, for a real french meringue it would be needed to whisk the whites with sugar and cook them for 12 hours at low temperatures. I know the latest kitchen programs make it seem like something faisable in a short time, and i will always resent them for this, but what they are serving in real is just raw meringue made with raw eggs, and for how much the raw eggs part can be solved with pasteurized whites, it would make for a more expensive ingredient.
For an Italian meringue, you have to put in a small pot 200g of sugar and a bit of water, just enough to wet it. It then have to be cooked till it make a boiling syrup. Be attentive at not making caramel instead, that would risk ruining the eggs. While the syrup simmer, start whisking the whites. When they start to be whipped add, while still whisking, the hot syrup. The boiling syrup will cook the eggs and give a nice shiny finish at the meringue, while the whisking will assure the sugar is distributed heavenly and the whites continue to whip.
When they are whipped enough to not fall out of the bowl if turned, distribuite the meringue over the pie.
If you like a golden finish it is possible to put in in the oven for some minutes, to toast the meringue, or pass it with a blowtorch.
My verbosity could make seem the recipe long and complex, but i can assure is quite easy to make, even in absence of big space. I do not live in a big estate like the ones of the nobles we are sometimes invited for a ball, as my preparing myself the sweet cakes instead of giving the order to a cook probably already made clear, and last time i prepared it i did it in a chopping board above my sink, and it come out quite good.
Hope you will find it as delicious as i find It myself.
With love,
Soupy
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violetnotez · 4 years
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SHE IS HERE. PART TWO. BY EXTREMELY POPULAR AND LATE DEMAND!!!!
This fic. THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. HAS BEEN FIGHTING SO HARD I AM DONE THIS HAS BEEN A STRUGGLE. If there are typos I AM SORRY- just msg me and ill fix it if its that bad im just tired!
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Kirishima x reader
⤷Genre: Angst, Fluff
⤷Word Count: 9k+ (-this has the weekly prompt for the @bnhabookclub​ discord -“Im fine” :)
⤷ Warnings: slight mentions of blood, cursing, suggested spicyness at the end
⤷ Synopsis: It’s been exactly 3 months since the last time Kirishima saw you, after you had abruptly ended things with him. He’s been trying to forget you, but it’s no use-he’s still madly in love with you, and wishes he could get the truth of why you two ended. What a shocker when he gets a chance to ask his questions-and he learns the truth about your villainous life.
Song Recs: ⤷ “Breakeven”-The Script ⤷ “Lucid Dreams”- Juice WRLD ⤷ “Scars”- Lukas Graham
PART 1
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Kirishima looked up at his calendar, a sad sigh escaping his lips. 
That number shouldn’t be such a big deal, that plain black “11” tiny and insignificant next to all the other digits, like little ants stationary on the page.
What it represented, though, was so much more: that day so many weeks ago was so full of heartache and misery, the feeling of being lied to eating at his core for days to come. 
Today, 3 months ago, was the day you confessed to him that you didn’t love him. 
Kirishima has never felt so betrayed and heartbroken in his whole life: you were his first real love after all, and hearing you say your love was a lie destroyed him.
He didn’t know what to do or how to even react to that news: he had felt so numb after, so incredibly empty, it was like he was a walking shell of himself once he left your room.
His friends had tried to cheer him up constantly, always putting in the effort to lift his spirits with laughter and comfort. But the warmth of their attempts of cheering him up didn’t help him at all: he always still felt so cold inside.
It also didn’t help that you had mysteriously left UA the day after the “breakup.” When Kirishima laid his tired puffy eyes on your empty desk the next day, his heart couldn’t help but beat feverishly. He knew he shouldn’t care that you were gone, but he couldn’t help it. No matter which way he spun it, He was still desperately falling for you, even if you had broken his heart. 
He had sat down, his back slumped as he eyed that empty seat with worry. 
How had everything gone so wrong? 
He couldn’t fathom what had gone stray-your love  had honestly felt so real to him. You had told him you had only dated him out of pity-but if somebody was being forced to do something, just to spare someone’s feelings, would they have given him his first kiss so perfectly, making sure to be soft and gentle? Would they have stuck with him late into the night to help study for tests? Or give him sweet kisses on his scars when he was feeling self conscious? 
It just didn’t add up-the feelings you two had were genuine and real. It couldn’t all be one sided like you had said.
He gave another look to that chair, just imagining the ghost of you sitting there, turning around and sending him that infectious smile that light up his whole day.
God, it wasn't even one whole day and he felt so incomplete without you.
Mr. Aizawa walked in, everyone scrambling to their seats and watching him intently, the room getting noticeably more quiet.
He didn’t remember much of that class-he had remembered Mr.Aizawa standing at the front of the class, his deep voice breaking his miserable thoughts when he said the class would be free of one student.
You had seemingly left in the middle of the night, your guardians notifying the school you would no longer be attending UA due to you moving. All of Class 1-A was incredibly confused, including Kirishima- you had never said you were moving, yet you somehow were just gone. As if you never existed.
It just didn’t add up to Kirishima-you would have said something about moving, or at least acted strange the weeks prior. All these events just didn’t make sense to Kirishima-the break up, your confession, you leaving-it all just didn’t add up. But he was too tired, too wrecked inside to think about it anymore. The more he tried to piece the story together the more it gnawed at him, making him feel so much more worse than he already felt. He slumped in his chair, knowing full well everyone was staring at him-you were his boyfriend after all, he should have known.
Oh wait-ex.
He slumped in his chair even more, barely the tips of his spiky red hair poking up from the desk table.
It was gonna be a long few weeks for him, he could already feel it.
Now he was past all those days of crying and breaking over you-some days he could actually forget about you and not have to worry. But on days that were permanently etched into his mind, like today, he couldn’t help but remember. 
Kirishima's phone began to ring, the vibration of the call making the phone jitter against the wood of his desk. He tore himself away from the calendar, his hands instantly swiping to take the call once he saw the Caller ID.
“Hey Fat, how's it going!” Kirishima forced a smile, his voice preppy and bright as if nothing had ever happened.
“Kirishima, thanks for taking the call,” his mentor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief hearing his bright voice on the other end.
Since Kirishima was in his 3rd year, he was required to do another work study, for an even longer period of time than before. So when he was asked by Fatgum to come join the agency once again, he couldn’t help but say no. He had loved his old mentor back from his 1st year, even if he did get pretty banged up at the end of his work study. He was more than happy to join his agency again, and wanted nothing more to learn and grow to be the best hero he could be.
“I know this is pretty late in the day for you,” Fatgum continued, “but I’m going to need your help,”
“Tamaki was supposed to be patrolling on the West side of town tonight, but he got called in to help with a robbery on the North side. I don’t have anybody else to take his place, so I was hoping you could take over his shift for the night,”
“Of course! I’ll do anything you need,” Kirishima propped his phone into the crook of his neck, already rummaging around his room for his hero suit.
“You're a lifesaver Kirishima!” Fatgum exclaimed, the toothy grin he was most likely sporting practically audible.“See ya for training tomorrow then!”
“You too, Fat,” Kirishima's cheerful tone waned, a sad smile replacing his bright grin as he stared down at his hero suit.
He had already known today was going to be a tough day for him, and the fact that he was off from any type of hero work that would make him forget about his sadness didn’t help. 
But now that Fatgum has given him a job tonight, he might be able to erase his mind of all the past heart ache for the next few hours. He gave himself a small smile, his hero suit beckoning him to put it on, the reds and blacks calling to him like ghosts from a dream.
He was gonna at least try to forget-just for the night.
It was now an hour before the end of his shift, and he was feeling practically tired.
The West side of town was relatively quiet, nowhere near the crime riddled areas of the North side of the city boulevard. He knew these streets well from patrolling them almost every night of his hero study, knowing each alleyway and path like the back of his hand. 
Tonight was silent, only a few late night joggers or the occasional fast food joint open for any customers getting the late night munchies. 
It was soft, provincial, and bitter sweet. 
He was trying his best to not remember, to not remember your face, or your smile, or the way you would laugh so warmly whenever he did something amusing. He was trying not to imagine you standing by his side, your hand grabbing his and your shoulder resting  on his, a happy sigh escaping your lips. 
Why were still haunting him, even three months later? 
why couldn’t he just forget about you? 
A crash and a yell snapped Kirishima out of his memory, an angry scream of a teen being heard from the late night restaurant. 
He shook his head to rid himself of those unwanted thoughts, noticing a black figure running across the parking lot into an alleyway at lightning speed.
“That-that Villian!” She shrieked, her friends trying to soothe her as she continued on her rampage, “She stole my wallet! My damn wallet! The hell-“
“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll get it back for you, don’t worry!” He yelled towards the group, his voice warm and assuring as he sent her a toothy grin. His feet began pounding the pavement, disappearing into the alleyway in the direction of the criminal.
Your breath came out in painful huffs, your hand fumbling to put the wallet into the jacket of your Villian suit. 
Damn Shigaraki and his “plans.”
Shigaraki has now concocted up his next bright idea  for the League, this time relying on you stealing an ID card from a college student that looked similar to you. 
While the LOV was going off stealing a bank for some extra cash, you were told to go find someone who looked similar to you in order to pass as them. for what you had no idea, but you knew Shigaraki would be extremely mad with you if you didn’t do what he asked. You shivered at the thought of him, those cold red eyes like bloody daggers ripping into your flesh. 
You slowed to a stop, your breath coming out in pants as you pulled down the mask on your face, your breath finally free from the constricting fabric.
God you hated running.
Nobody seemed to be following you though, footsteps inaudible to your ears. You slinked into a dark corner of the alleyway, your hands rummaging inside the wallet for the ID card you desperately needed.
Cash, credit card, a picture of her and possibly her boyfriend,a shit ton of gift cards-
You breathed a sigh of relief, flicking out the desired card with a flourish. In the low light conditions you were in, it was hard to see her details, but you knew that it matched your complexion just enough to pass by.
Thank God, now Shigaraki wouldn’t be on your ass-
“Hey, it’s not cool to steal, man,” you heard a familiar voice echo throughout the concrete walls of the alleyway, making your blood run cold.
Shit, please not be him, anybody but him-
You instantly tugged your mask over your mouth and nose, praying to God it wasn’t him.
Maybe it was another hero, or somebody that just resembled him-
“Just give me back what you stole, and nothing bad will happen to ya,” Kirishima continued, his footsteps slow and solemn as he walked over to you, as if you were a wounded animal that could attack at any moment.
You shoved the wallet hastily into your jacket pocket, looking around, desperate for a way out.
Damn it-you were completely blocked from the back, a tall cement wall blocking your escape. The only way for you to get out was to somehow dodge Kirishima and make a run for it, or fight him.
God definitely had his favorites, and it obviously wasn’t you.
This boy was so quiet-all that hero training made him extremely agile, like a cat going forward it’s prey  as he continued to walk towards you cautiously. 
It was a shock to see him-he looked so much older, his handsome face making your heart squeeze painfully. He still sported his iconic red hair to match his suit, the only thing really changing was the amount of scars on his body. When you two had dated, you were so close to him you knew every valley, ditch, and scar on his body like your own.
He was getting stronger and tougher, growing to his goal while you were stuck in your life, still just a little pawn in Shigarakis decaying hands.
You didn’t feel like fighting him-you still felt guilty for the way you had ended things with him, even though it was weeks after. You knew it had to be done in order to protect him, but you also knew it had hurt him to the point of no return.
 He had to have hated you now, and honestly, you didn’t blame him-it just hurt to know you lost a love you still felt. And it was your fault.
Kirishima watched your every move, not suspecting a thing-you were just another thug, another puny Villain he had to take down. Even though it was decent fun to take a criminal down, dealing with witnesses, the police, and paperwork was quite the opposite. But it’d get his mind off of his own misery.
The Villain seemed strange though-as if they were terrified by the mere sight of him. They weren’t even trying to bad mouth him, which was a definite first for him. It was hard to see in the dark alleyway, but he could make out the outline of the thief trying to quickly dodge him, trying to break into a run to get out of the cramped dead end.
Kirishima swiftly grabbed the arm of their leather jacket, pulling your squirming body close to his.
You were screaming internally-he needed to let go, he had to let go. Your heart felt like it was ripping apart, the sudden memories flooding your body as you remembered how it felt to be so close to him, to be so intimate you could see the flecks of brown in his vermillion red eyes. You didn’t want him to realize it was you, to see you as his enemy yet again. You couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak and disappointment in his eyes, your hands clawing to get away.
“Hey-just calm down a little-“ he huffed out, the words separated as he tried to keep a hold on your body.
It was strange to him though-you weren’t even talking, not a peep was spilling out of your lips. You seemed pretty young, and by your smaller frame, you were most likely female. You seemed 
so scared, your eyes bright with desperation and fright. 
His larger hands kept you close to him, his heart pinging with hurt-
There was no way this was you. He was going crazy-those weren’t your eyes.
But God, they looked so familiar-your eyes looked exactly like that the day you two broke up. Full of fear and sadness and guilt-
This wasn’t you, this couldn’t be you, but-if it was-
With one hand firmly wrapped your waist and another shakily reaching toward your mask, your body fighting desperately to get him to stop. Even through your attempts, he pulled the material gently off your skin, The flimsy black mask falling to the ground pitifully. your face looking down at the ground with embarrassment, now knowing your cover was blown.
Kirishima's heart beat painfully-it was you, this was you.
What had happened?
“Y-y/n?” He stuttered out, his voice caught pitifully in his throat.
You swallowed thickly, trying to shove the dry ball of embarrassment down your throat.
“H-hi Kiri,” 
He quickly let go of you, his body blocking your exit as he stared at you in disbelief.
You looked so different, so unlike you-you were wearing a completely black outfit, the material shiny like wet rocks near a dark river. Your hair was pulled back painfully tight, your eyes looking down at your scuffed combat boots in despair.
You looked so defeated and so sad, as if there was no happiness left in your body.
Who even were you?
“What happened to you? Why are stealing? Where have you even been?” He bombarded you with questions, his voice getting more and more authoritative and desperate as questions flooded his mind.
You couldn’t even think to comprehend an answer to any of them-you just needed to forget this encounter ever happened. For your and Kirishima’s sanity and, most importantly, safety.
“Just let me go Kirishima,” you dodged his question, taking a step forward to push your way out of the alleyway.
Kirishima's body was bigger and stronger though, and with each shuffle you attempted he would close the gap between you two, blocking your escape solely with his body.
“No, I-I need answers y/n,” he replied. His voice sounded so hurt, so full of anguished you felt your heart break a little more. He was still hurting, and now he was confused, seeing you all dressed up and committing crimes like a low level Villian. 
“I need to know what happened to you.”
You faulted in your step, staring at Kirishima with wide, mournful eyes. You made yet another attempt to surpass him, your shoulder a mere centimeters away from his as you tried to walk past him.
“Nothing happened Kirishima, please just let me-“
If you thought you were going to leave that easily, you were crazy. 
He swiftly grabbed your arm, his calloused hands rough against the leather of your jacket. Even through the thick material you could feel how warm he was-he always radiated such heat and brightness.
“Why did you leave UA?” He was abrupt with his question, but the hint of softness faltered his harsh exterior-he was still worried for you.
A deep sigh cascaded from your lips, your brow starting to sweat. You were tired of dealing with this heavy burden, this spider web of lies you had created for your own self. You still loved Kiri, yes, but your relationship was over and done. There was really no fear of judgement anymore. Hell, he just saw you steal a wallet like a low level thug-how much more could he judge you in this moment?
“You want the truth Kiri?” Your voice was blunt, and monotone, a shield from your true emotions. 
“You want to know who I really am? I-I’m a Villian. I work for the LOV. I only went to UA because I had to listen to Shigaraki. He needed info and I was the only one to do it.”
You sneaked a peek at Kirishima's face, a slight grimace on your lips as you anticipated the look of disgust on his face. Your heart thumped painfully, waiting for him to look at you with revulsion, but-it never came. His bright vermillion eyes still stared down at you softly, his eyes coated with worry and sympathy. 
“So-you were being forced?”
“At first I wanted to do it-b-but after I while, I started to change my mind,” 
he was so warm, his body heat seeping into your cold skin like a fire on a winter's night. Even now, in this dark alley, exactly 3 months from your terrible breakup-he still could make you feel safe. He was your home in the snow storm, so warm and comforting when the rest of the world was so unforgiving and icy. You relished the feeling of his calloused palms on your body, wishing those hands were on your skin instead of your jacket so they could  slowly  warm your whole body with their wonderful  heat.
“Then why did you leave?”
You gulped, licking your lips tentatively. Did you really want to tell him the truth? Tell him how weak you truly were? You honestly didn’t, a part of you screaming to just feed him a lie that would satiate you both-but the thought of living with even more of a guilty conscience made your mouth go dry. He didn't deserve another lie-after all you did to him, Kirishima deserved the truth. 
“I-I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t want you to get hurt. If Shigaraki found out I was considering leaving the LOV, he would have done anything in his power to keep me.”
“You don’t know the League like I do. When I mean he would do anything-he would do anything-including killing.”
Kirishima's eyes momentarily widened, the brutal words cutting the air like a knife. It didn’t surprise him, though-he was a hero in training after all. He had been in too many dangerous run ins with villians-hell, he couldn’t even count how many times he could have died just in his first year at UA. Death was a recurring threat in Kirishima's life, and , for better or worse, it didn’t scare him as much as it used to.
“Kiri-I-I lied to you to keep you safe. You meant the world to me-You still do. I still think about you all the time, and I know you probably hate me, but I still love you. I never stopped.”
He watched your eyes turn down in shame, your head hanging low as if you were carrying a great burden. It was painstakingly obvious you were feeling guilty and remorseful, and his heart throbbed at the thought that of you being forced to continue on with this life. We all made dumb mistakes when we were younger-you shouldn’t have to keep the burden of your past decisions still. 
As much as he felt sympathy for you, he couldn't help but feel so happy that you still had feelings for him. No matter how he spun it, he still cared for you and loved you with all his heart-hearing The same thoughts come from you just made him fall for you even more.
He gingerly took your chin in his hands, his calloused digits lifting your sullen head in order for him to look at you fully. Even when you looked so downtrodden, you were absolutely beautiful to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“God, take the words right out of mouth, huh?”
Kirishima's heartbeat feverishly in his chest-what he was about to do was so incredibly risky, but he had to do it. Too many nights he spent dreaming and remembering you, the memories bitter sweet. Now that he had you in front of him, he was going to take any chance he could go get those sensations back in his life.
Kirishima placed his lips gently on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You couldn’t breathe-it was like you were drowning on his essence-yet you couldn’t careless. Warmth filled your stomach, fueling all over your body like a hot flame. It was so comforting and surreal to be feeling this again, to have Kirishima's hot lips pressed against yours.
He parted from you, both of you buzzing with electricity. It was surprising how much truth that kiss held-it melted the cocoon you two had around your hearts, allowing you two to see how much you had truly missed each other.
“ Y/n, I miss you, I knew that night you said you didn’t love me, something wasn’t right,” he spoke, his breath fanning your lips gently. “I knew there was more than what you were letting on.”
Kirishima grabbed your arms suddenly, looking you square in the face with intense eyes.
“ Y/n, you should have left then and there! We would have protected you! I would have protected! I promise I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you-“
“Y/n, you need to leave them, please,”
You sighed, hating how quickly the air thickened with the remembrance of your current situation. 
“Kiri, I don’t want anybody to potentially get hurt because of my dumbass decisions, I’m fine, I can handle myself-“
“Y/n, no your not fine! Look at you-,”he motioned to your clothing and your sullen face, “this isn’t you at all! 
“Kiri, please, don’t give me false hope-“ you shoved him off, wrapping your arms around your body to protect yourself. If you didn’t get control of yourself, you would follow his words in a heartbeat. As much as you would love to run into the strong arms of Kirishima, for him to warm your numb body with his positive energy- you knew it was dangerous. You didn’t want anybody to get hurt over you.
“It isn’t false hope though….” He smiled sweetly at you, his hand stretched out to you, “please, just take my hand, Kay? Nothing bad will happen, I promise,”
You stared at him long and hard, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty-he was so genuine, so warm, so forgiving. He wanted to help you, he was willing and ready. He wanted to fight the world with you by his side, to protect the people he needed to protect with his loving energy. Kirishima had a way of making you believe anything that came out of his mouth, and you were falling for his spell. You didn’t know if it was the shock from seeing him after so long, his kiss, or just from wanting to leave so badly, but you stretched out your hand, ready for him to take you away.
a cruel, scraggly voice boomed from the shadows, “He promises to keep his little love bird safe.”
“How touching.”
You two spun your heads around at the sound of the ominous voice, your blood running cold.
“Shigaraki,” you gasped out, your eyes glued onto your leader. 
He was smiling a sick grin, his expression sadistic and cruel as he stood in a few paces away from you two. He was clothed in his Villain suit, his clothes tattered and dark like the Grim Reaper himself.
 Spinner and Twice were standing close by, surveying the scene from above as Shigaraki sauntered to you two. Kirishima's expression instantly turned from softness to determination, his body instantly turning to shield yours.
“Oh no need to act so heroic hero,” he grinned, his tone sickeningly sweet life cough syrup.
“Just give us our comrade and we’ll be on our way.”
“You're not going anywhere with her!” Kirishima yelled, his quirk activating in his arm as he shielded you from Shigaraki. “She doesn’t want to be with you scumbags anymore!”
“I’d watch your tone if I were you, especially for trying to defend a spineless traitor like her.”
Kirishima's face turned red in anger, his whole body now turning as solid as a rock as he charged your former leader.
“You piece of-“ 
Shigaraki continued the sick grin plastered on his face as Spinner and Twice instantly jumped from their positions, grabbing Kirishima's arms and roughly slamming him into the nearby wall. You heard the air forces out of Kirishima's lungs, his face contorted in pain. Your heart felt as if it was getting stabbed as you watched Kirishima struggle against their holds.
“Kirishima!” You screamed, your body yelling at you to help him-but you knew you couldn’t take on those two by yourself, not even including Shigaraki.
You turned to the villainous man in front of you, your eyes pleading.
“Shigaraki, please, tell them to let him go-let him go!”
He took a step toward you, his footsteps ringing slowly like the ticks of an old clock.
“Oh, I will,” he replied, his voice low and sadistic, “-when you rejoin the League.
“ I’d kill you right now for being such a selfish brat if I didn’t need you-so take it as a gift. I’ll spare your life if you just come-“
“Never,” you spat at him, fear filling your stomach with your defiance. You were surprised to hear how steady your voice was, but the slight Tremble in your fists said otherwise.
“Fine then,” he smirked, “suit yourself-“
With a wave of his decaying hands, Spinner and Twice began to use their full force on Kirishima-punching, kicking, anything to torture him. He was trying his best to block them, even with his quirk-but they were quite strong, especially once Twice used his quirk to produce more of his own body. It quickly began evident that Kirishima was having a hard time to fight off the villains, his Stance slowly becoming weaker and weaker as his face began to bruise and his arm dusted with his own blood.
You were hopeless to just watch, watching your worst fear come to life-people we’re already getting hurt over you.
Anger filled your stomach, licking up your body like hot flames as you turned to charge Shigaraki, fire in your eyes.
“Stop it you crusty ass-“ you yelled out, your fists out as you tried to land a punch on the Villian.
He seemed to know your exact movements though, his hands harshly grabbing your wrists and mouth, colliding your body with his.
“I’d watch that mouth of yours if I were you, unless you want it to disintegrate-along with the rest of you-“
Shit.
You had momentarily forgotten about Shigaraki’s dangerous quirk-one wrong move and you could be a heap on the ground, nothing more. The fingers around your mouth were delicate, knowing full well you wouldn’t try and escape. They drummed playfully against your mouth, as if taunting you to do something foolish. You felt how cold he was, the feeling of his chapped skin on yours disgusting as he toyed with your life in his hands. 
It was all a game for him-and he was winning.
“Look at him-“ Shigaraki ordered, the grip around your mouth suddenly tightening as he twisted your head to face Kirishima's misery.  
“You caused this, y/n. All this pain, all this suffering. If you leave, he will be the first we target. Well slowly go after each and every person you have ever loved, until we finally come for you.”
“Now, you don’t want that, do you?”  He asked, his face tilting in order to see your answer. You forced yourself to not look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the small tears running down your cheeks. 
All you could muster was a small shake of your head, the vibration of your movement going through Shigarakis finger tips.
Through the fists and clones he was trying to fight off, Kirishima could see you shaking your head, Shigaraki looking practically happy by your answer. A sinking feeling filled Kirishima's stomach as he saw your body language slouch in defeat. He Tried to call at you, to stop you from agreeing to whatever was coming out of Shigarakis lying lips, but at that moment one of the clones landed a solid punch to his stomach. Kirishima felt all the air leave out of his lungs , his knees wobbling and hitting the floor as his head spun from the pain.
Shigaraki still had his hold on you, watching how your face crumpled as you watched Kirishima fall and unable to help.
“Good, now, will you come and rejoin?” He asked one last time, motioning for his comrades to move away from Kirishima and back to their spot on the roof of the alleyway.
He knew now he had you under his finger, knowing the show he had just made you watched instilled enough fear for you to never leave his team again. He watched your eyes cower to give one last look at Kirishima's crumpled body, your shoulders tense with stress.
“I-I’ll rejoin the League,” you whispered out, feeling the hold Shigaraki had on you loosen. 
It was tearing you up inside to see Kirishima so bruised and hurt on the ground-you focused on the signs of him breathing, his broad chest rising and falling as he struggled to push himself back up. That small evidence gave you courage, your heart racing as you will yourself to continue with the plan you had secretly been concocting this whole time.
You grunted, a sly smirk erupting on your face.
“After I do this-“
You swiftly grabbed Shigarakis arm, twisting it in an excruciating position behind his back. He yelled out in pain, a string of curses filling the night as you rammed your fist into his chest, sending the air out of his lungs. He stumbled dramatically, dry coughs spewing out of his lungs as his knees hit the floor. 
“You no longer have power over me-none of you do,” you stood defiantly in that alleyway, watching your ex comrades stare at you in shock and awe. In all your time with the LOV, you had never defied them. Not once. You were always so obedient, which was why Shigaraki loved to have you around as a n asset to his team-you were so easy to keep around his finger. 
But now you were clearly being rebellious, your stony face telling the whole group you had changed-you didn’t give a damn about their threats and their rules anymore. You wouldn’t be coming back.
A burst of fear and extreme annoyance flooded Shigarakis' system, the pain of your kick aiding fuel to the flame. He growled, a curse directed at you dribbling from his lips as his thin legs wobbled his body weight up. His mouth opened to send you another string of curses, ready to unleash his full wrath on you for embarrassing him so much, until a characteristic siren filled the night air.
Kirishima propped himself onto his knees, a tried grin gracing his bruising lips.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“
His hand lifted, showing the whole group a small contraption in his hand. In the darkness of the alleyway it was hard to tell what it was, but it seemed Kirishima was holding a phone, a route to your location lighting up the screen.
“My mentor gave all us heroes-in-training a tracker, just in case we get into any trouble. While you were blabbering on about plans, I sent the heroes our location.”
Kirishima smiled triumphantly at the fearful faces of Shigaraki’s comrades, Shigarakis own fave contorted in rage. 
The sirens were slowly getting louder, the colors of blue and red dancing lightly against the stony walls of the alley way.
“So unless you wanna get caught by the heroes,” he added in, his tone surprisingly friendly, “ I suggest you go.”
Shigaraki seemed waver, trying to see if he could still get you back under the terrible circumstances. But the cops were practically here, the sounds of car doors slamming being heard. He had to admit it to himself-he lost this battle. He gave you one last scornful look, his bloody irises sending a shiver down your spine as he took off with his comrades, not leaving a trace.
You could already hear the police officers stepping out of their cars, fear flooding your stomach. Even though you had just defied the League, you were still a criminal. You had been doing illegal activities for months now-hell, you just stole a girls wallet 15 minutes ago and it was still in your damn pocket.
Even though a part of you was screaming for you to run as well, you fought off that flight response in order to help Kirishima off the floor.
His skin still feels warm, your hands making sure not to touch the tender parts of his skin from his fight. Even though he was smiling, you could tell he was in some pain. Your worst fear was already being realized-he got hurt over you. For you. You could never repay him for that, the guilt seeping into your core. 
“Kiri are you okay? Please tell me you are,” you pushed out, the tone of your voice desperate and pleading. “I’m so sorry-“
Kirishima looked up, his vermillion eyes as bright as ever as he caresses your cheek, sweeping the single tear off your face.
 “For what? You did nothing wrong y/n, you don’t have to be so sad over me-this is my job after all!” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as you began to help him stand up. He was slightly wobbly on his feet but seemed to be doing just fine. 
He gave you a small smile, a hint of worry in his eyes as he heard footsteps coming behind him.
“Just-let me do the talking, Kay?” He waited for you to give him a nod, his hands giving yours a gentle squeeze.
“Do you still have the wallet you stole?”
“The-? Oh, yeah, I do,” you stated quickly, the wallet resurfacing in your mind as you rummaged in your jacket, pulling it out and shoving it into his hand.
“Thanks,” he smiled at you, his cheeks warm as he faltered for the smallest second. 
It was evident he wanted to lean in and kiss you-the way he stared at your lips was quite evident and brought a blush to your cheeks. 
But Kirishima was still on duty, and couldn’t be so openly romantic when he was in his hero suit as well being approached by law enforcement. He instead opted to kiss your cheek, the smooth skin of his lips warming your whole body as he walked over to greet the police officer. 
Kirishima has spoke to the police officer for quite a while, a few others watching close behind as they surveyed you. You felt strange, standing there so alone as you watched Kirishima talk to the officer so warmly. 
You didn’t know what he was saying, or what he was doing, but you were hoping he was somehow sweet talking the officers. You watched him point to you at one point, his warm smile assuring your terrified face as the officer looked you up and down tentatively.
He motioned you to come over, as if trying to get a frightened animal to come near him. You followed his command, your steps hesitant as you approached the two men.
The officer face was hardened until he saw the look of terror on your face, his expression softening slightly.
“This is her?” He asked gruffly, turning to Kirishima.
“Yes,” he nodded his head in confirmation. “The LOV have been brainwashing her for their plans-she has intel the heroes could use to our advantage. Fat Gum’s agency needs her straight away in order to get that info from her. I promise we will get her in the system and any other information you may need on file.”
The officer gave you two a long look, sighing as he scratched his chin.
“Alright,” he complied, a huge smile erupting on Kirishimas face. “You two need a ride? You look pretty messed up.”
Kirishima gave a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Uh-yeah, THAT'D be pretty nice actually-“
After the small car ride to Fat Gum’s agency, you had helped Kirishima out of the car and to Fat Gum’s office at the top floor. It seemed like someone had already alerted Fat Gum to Kirishima's arrival, because you two were instantly met by the pro hero with worried eyes once you reached his office.
“God Kirishima you had me so worried for a second!” He yelled, striding over to the bruised hero, “that receptionist really made it sound like you were in need of medical attention or something-“
“I’m fine Fat, you don’t gotta worry about me!” Kirishima said good naturedly, his perfect teeth glistening in the fluorescent lights. “I actually have some things I need your help with-“
“You definitely do if you're bringing a civilian into the office,” FatGum stared down at you with a warm smile, your heart beating guiltily. It was strange to see the hero in normal clothing in not in his larger form, his stature so much smaller it seemed from his usually large frame.
“The names Fat, but you can call me Taishiro!” He held out his hand in front of you, his bright personality radiating off of him, “and you are-“
“I-I’m y/n, sir,” you said hesitantly, taking your smaller hand in his. He was just as warm as Kirishima, like a bright ball of sun. 
No wonder Kirishima interned with Fatgum-he was just like him. Bright, fun, kind. Everything you so dearly craved for in your life, but couldn't quite grasp.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a civilian-I’m a criminal, a Villian,” you muttered sadly, your head hanging low, “well, I was-“
Fat Gum gave Kirishima a confused look, his happy exterior dropping slightly. 
“She was being forced to be a Villain by Shigaraki,” Kirishima quickly stepped forward, his tone serious as he defended you. “She wanted to leave the LOV, but they were threatening her.
“She didn’t do anything wrong-she just wanted to protect herself and the people around her.”
Fat Gum scratched the side of his cheek, his eyes lost in thought.
“Well Thats a strange situation to be in-I’m assuming you two know each other?”
You looked at Kirishima, red blossoming your cheeks just like his. 
Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell his mentor that you had dramatically broke up with Kirishima over 3 months ago.
“We uh-“ Kirishima started, his voice wavering in uncertainty.
“We were classmates,” you chided in quickly, “I went to UA along with Kirishima, but the LOV forced me to leave the school.”
Fat Gum nodded his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “So-you’ve been working as a Villain, but against your will?”
You nodded your head, your breath caught in your throat as you awaited for the hero's reaction to this news of your true identity.
“This will get a little fuzzy legal wise, especially if people are looking for you-some may not trust what you say, even if you left the League and do everything in your power to change their minds.”
“Don’t worry though, I believe you,” the hero placed his hand in your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I believe Red Riot full heartedly in his perception of others and I’m pretty good at reading people too. I can tell youre not what the League tried to make you into.”
He sent you a warm grin, making you feel safe for what had felt like a long time.
“Would you be willing to answer questions about the League? about how they operate, how large they are, their plans-“
“Yes, anything to end them and help the heroes,” you answered quickly, your tone set in determination, “I’d be willing to do all of it.”
“Well that settles it!” Fat Gum said happily, the smile back on his face. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking to you about your experience with the League-but you two seem to need a well deserved nap.”
“Why don’t you keep her in your apartment Kirishima?” FatGum turned to the hero, Kirishimas dusted in pink by the proposition. “Shell feel
a little more comfortable since you're someone she knows, and she’s also close to the agency.”
Fat Gum gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with reassurance. “Heroes will be around all day and all night, so nobody can come in and out.”
It surprised you how intuitive the hero was-he knew exactly how you were feeling. 
Even though you knew it was foolish, you still felt that somehow the League would find you and try to bring you back. You had clearly defied them, and it scared you that they be trying to get their revenge. 
But Fatgums charming smile was so reassuring and welcoming, you couldn’t give him a small smile back.
“I think I can manage that arrangement.”
“Good then,” he gave you two one last smile, ushering you two out the door, “make sure to get some rest-tomorrow will definitely be a long day. Make sure those injuries are doing well too, alright?”
You both gave the hero a curt response, turning your backs from the now closed doors.
Kirishima's heart began to beat intensely, his stomach filling with butterflies.
You had agreed to stay in his room? God, if someone had told him a few hours ago you’d be staying the night with him, he’d wouldn’t believe it for a second. But now this was happening, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic or nervous.
He stared at your profile, not missing the dusting of red on your cheeks-you were nervous too? It made him feel a little better inside, a small smile gracing his lips as he stretched out his hand.
“You ready?”
You looked down at the outstretched sha s in front of you, taking his palm in yours tentatively.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” 
He lead you through the agency, taking an elevator a few levels down in order to get to the apartments specifically for the heroes in training.
It was a short trip, but the fatigue that wa a beginning to hit your body was making it feel so much longer. The adrenaline rush you had felt all night was wearing off, your eyes fluttering as you will yourself to stay awake.
Kirishima noticed your sleepy state, a small chuckle escaping from his chest.
“You feeling tired?”
“Just-a little,” you yawned out, wrapping your hands around your body.
“Don’t worry-were almost at my place,” he gave you a sweet smile, his hands outstretched for yours as the elevator door opened. You took it gratefully, letting him lead you to his door as he opened it with ease.
You stepped inside, adjusting from the darkness as you took in the sight in front of you.
The room smelled of him-the warm and musky scent ofhis cologne lingering in the air. It was almost teasing you with its memories, a wave of comfort washing over you as you recalled all the times you buried your nose into his neck and smelled his scent. 
His room was pretty neat, surprisingly, his desk organized and his walls decorated with a few posters. You recognized some from his old room at UA-a Crimson Riot, his favorite band, and even a calendar he used to use frequently.
Some areas of his room signaled the busy life of his work stidy, his unmade bed strewn with clothing he had hastily ripped off, a small pile of clothes in a pile and his laptop charging in a corner of the room.
Kirishima cursed himself as he looked around the room, painstakingly noticing every little detail and mess, hating how he hadn’t cleaned up his room that day.
“Sorry for the mess, I didn’t expect to have anyone,” he chuckled nervously, already going around and picking up his things.
“It’s fine-I like it,” 
You were speaking the truth when you said it-you liked how it was so him, showing a glimpse into his daily life. It was warm and comforting, even residential, to see him in his day to day life.
“You do?”
You hummed a “yes”, feeling your heart beat fast when Kirishima closed the gap between you two, his palms gently grasping your arms. He breathed in a deep sigh, holding you close.
“God, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he sighed out breathlessly.
“I missed you too Kiri,” you looked down, old guilt resurfacing inside you, “I’m still sorry for being so-so mean to you-I should have just told you the truth, I shouldn't have lied-“
Kirishima smiled softly, lifting your chin with his finger.
“Don’t worry about that! That was in the past-now it’s just you and me, kay? You don’t have to worry about any of that, now”
He gave you a long look, sorry buried in his brows as you ran his fingers along your skin, feeling the bags under your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, loving the electricity Kirishima set into your skin just from his touch.
“You really are tired, huh?” He asked quietly, his voice husky from exhaustion himself.
“And you're not?” You gave him a quirky smile, making him blush with a chuckle.
“Well, I didn’t say that,” he gave you a small grin, his hands returning back to their spots on your arms.
“Do you wanna sleep? You can take the bed if you want-I know it’s not made, but I can sleep on the couch if you’d like-“
“I want to sleep with you,” you replied softly, your eyes widening once you realized what you had just said.
You wanted to sleep with him? God, you sounded so perverted! 
“I-I mean I want to go to bed with you-I didnt mean-I just didn’t want to make you sleep somewhere else, since this your room-“
Kirishima's face was incredibly red, but the smile was still plastered on his face.
“Oh it’s alright, I really don’t mind either way.“
He pulled himself away from you gently, as he began searching through his dresser for some clothes.
“So-bed together?”
“Yup!” You replied back, popping the p as You sat on the unmade bed, your fingers dragging against the plus fabric as Kirishima turned around, sitting in front of you as he handed you one of his shirts.
“I know you don’t have any pajamas, so you can wear one of my shirts until we get you some clothes.”
“Mm, sounds good,” you smiled tenderly, loving how close he was as you ran your hands through his hair.
He sighed into your touch as he nuzzled into your skin, his breath warm against your skin.
He sat there for a few moments, finally rising sluggish and slow.
“Gotta move-or I’ll fall asleep right there,” he chuckled, walking over to the front of his closet. He began to take off the pieces of his hero suit, the large gears on his arms hitting the floor with a thud.
You admired how broad his shoulders were, the way his muscles rippled so evidently as he moved his bones to his will. He was so perfectly built, you could t help but drool at the firmness of his skin.
“Having fun over there?,” he turned around, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he undid the belt around his waist.
“Just a little,” you gave him a small grin, hear flooding your face as you held the shirt close to your chest.
“You can go change in the bathroom if you’d like-you don’t have to stay out here if you’re not comfortable,” 
“And what if I am?” 
You laughed at the clearly evident blush on his cheeks, his face trying to hide the rush of embarrassment.
“Your a handful,” he chuckled, his hand running through his hair nervously.
He knew you were joking, and you two had only sorta, maybe gotten back together lass than an hour ago-but damn if he wasn’t nervous and excited by you being so flirtatious-in his room. 
For the rest of the night. 
You gave him one last smile before you disappeared into the bathroom, your hands closing the door gently.
God, it felt so nice to be in his arms again, to feel safe and warm. You had missed the fluttering feeling Kirishima gave you, like you could fly away  at any moment and you could care less. You brought your nose to the cloth of the worn shirt, the powerful smell of his detergent and cologne washing over you. It was so comforting, a nostalgic feeling filling your body as you remembered how much you missed his scent. 
You quickly stripped of your clothes, happy to be free of the uncomfortable garments finally. Since Kirishima didn’t hand you any shorts to wear, you decided to only wear the shirt he had given you over your underwear. The softness of the shirt felt so relaxing against your tired skin, almost like getting a hug from the boy himself. You smiled a deep sigh, happy to see that the shirt was long enough to at least cover your underwear from plan view and you splashed your face with some cold water, rinsing away all the fears from tonight.
You would have a long day tomorrow answering questions about the League-you could at least give yourself tonight to forget and be worry free.
Kirishima was hastily changing before you came out of the bathroom, dreading the idea of you seeing him half naked as he swapped out of his hero suit. He opted to wear something comfortable, grey sweatpants and an old black tshirt, his body running frantically to clean his room. Now that he got the chance to properly clean his room, he was a mad man trying to make it to his liking. He shoved clothes into his closet, made his bed, even hiding cords under his bed. 
If you were going to be in his room, he was at least going to give off some impression of him being neat.
He was now laying on his newly made bed, his hands occupied with checking his phone as he heard the bathroom door opening, your footsteps soft on the carpet of his room.
He looked up, a question about to fall from his lips until his mind went completely blank at the sight of you.
There you were, standing in his room, looking as beautiful as ever wearing his shirt and nothing else. He couldn't help but stare at your legs, worshipping the curves as his mouth was agape from awe.
He didn’t fully prepare himself at the sight of you in his clothes, but god did you wear them so perfectly-
“You okay Kiri?” You gave a nervous laugh, striding over to the bed, settling your knees on the plush comforter.
The shirt road up from the movement t, showing more of those pretty thighs of yours that made him practically drool.
“Ne-never been better!” He tried to compose himself, his voice rising slightly.
God, he needed to get ahold of himself.
“You look pretty comfy,” he gave a small comment on your outfit, loving how bashful you look at the comment.
“Of course I am,” you replied back, crawling over to his side of the bed. He gulped at the sight of you coming so close to him, “I’m in your clothes after all.”
You sat your body next to Kirishima, your hand finding his as your other lightly rested on his stomach. 
“You know, I’ve always thought you looked good in anything,” he smiled, his eyes dark like wine, “but you wearing my clothes-you looked best in that,” 
“Really?” You gave the boy a shit eating grin, knowing full well you were playing a dangerous game now.
This night could end in two different scenarios: one could complicate things, and one could really complicate things.
You’d take the latter, if he was willing.
You shifted your body around him, straddling his waist as his shirt rode up, exposing your thighs even more.
“And what about when they're not on?”
Kirishima's heart beat at an insane pace in his chest-was this wrong to do? He didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t care at that moment.
He returned the smile, his hands traveling underneath the soft shirt.
“Even better.”
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Tagging (anyone who commented or asked for a part 2- I tried to get everyone!):
@cellotonin​ @bakugous-forehead​ @lgbtonystarks​ @marrypuffsstuff​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @kurinhimenezu​ @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @hot-pocket01​ @bubblegum-bee-otch​ @kai-charm​
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knittingdreams · 3 years
Text
Fireheart - Chapter 5
Hello, hello, hello!! :D
Dropping a new chapter today ‘cause why not? *-*
I can’t believe how far this story’s got, I mean, I feel like I wrote this so long ago D: 
If you want to read more, head onto my A03 were you can read up to chapter 20-something, and I update there at least weekly n_n
Otherwise, stick around, and here are the previous chapters in case you didn’t read them:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER 5
Kickstarting phase 2
It only took Celaena a couple of days to figure out the patterns of Lysandra’s moves and get in position to play the next part of her plan; infiltrating the school’s hive. There was no better way to do so, than by going after the queen bee herself.
She had looked up Lysandra’s schedule on the ghost program she had running on her computer, which meant she had all the information about every student only one click away. Once she knew where Lysandra was meant to be at all times, it was easy to figure out the places she was hanging out in between classes. Every day, like a clock, Lysandra went to the bathroom closer to the cafeteria between the second and third period, usually on her own.
On Friday, Celaena made sure to be in that bathroom five minutes beforehand. She was standing in front of the mirror touching up her burgundy lipstick as the queen bee walked in, just as expected. 
Lysandra walked in confidently, checked her perfect hair in the mirror, adjusted her headband so it was placed just at the right angle, and then looked to her side, noticing Celaena standing there. Celaena’s chin was held high as she perfected the last touches of her own makeup and looked into the mirror, staring at her own brown eyes. She was still not used to them, they seemed so dull, but it had been fun to play with eyeshadow colors that would have normally clashed with her turquoise irises.
“Hey,” Celaena said as she finished up and looked at Lysandra. She used the same sweet tone she normally used when asking Arobynn for a favor.
“Hi,” Lysandra replied, looking puzzled for a second, but then turning around to fully face her. “I like that lipstick color you’re using; may I?” She added, extending a hand towards Celaena.
“Sure.”
Lysandra grabbed the lipstick off her, rolled it over in her fingers, and then tapped her thin lips with it making their cream color turn almost the same shade as Celaena’s.
Celaena knew it was now or never, she had to swallow her pride and do whatever was needed to make things work, to get closer, to get inside the inner circle. As repulsed as she felt about being one of the popular kids, it was a needed part of her plan.
“I hear tryouts for cheerleaders are next week, are there any openings available?” Celaena asked, playing with her hair and trying to look as innocent as a sheep... As far from reality as possible.
Lysandra looked her up and down before replying.
“You look decent enough, do you go to the gym often? Or were you on the squad in your old school? This is no joke, we take cheering seriously in Adarlan Elite,” she said with a stern voice, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Give me the chance, and I will prove worthy,” Celaena replied, making sure to say as little as possible. The best way to keep up a lie was by omission, and saying as few untrue facts as possible always helped keep up charades for longer. Being in Adarlan's school was certainly going to be the longest time she had spent as someone else.
“Are you a base or a flyer?” She asked, her emerald eyes still looking Celaena up and down.
“Whatever you need, I can be either, but I will rather be a base.”
“Okay,” Lysandra said, and a little smile made the side of her lips tug up. “I’ll see you there next Tuesday, don’t be late, and don’t disappoint me. We actually really need new recruits, most of our best graduated last year,” she finished as she turned around to walk away.
“Won’t,” Celaena said under her breath. There was no way she could disappoint. It was going to be harder to keep her performance on the down-low and not bring too much attention to herself than it was going to be making it into the squad. She had absolutely no doubt that she’d be wearing a cheerleader's uniform by the time training officially started. 
As Celaena was left alone in the bathroom, she pictured herself wearing the uniform. The skirt was similar to the everyday uniform, but about half the length of it; and bright yellow with a black waistband instead of the dull grey. She could do that, showing her legs was no issue, she could always attribute the few thin scars to falls, make up a little story here or there about her years cheering back in Terrasen. 
No, that wouldn’t be a problem. The problem was going to be the top. The cheerleader’s tops were too short, and leaving her lower back exposed wasn’t going to be an option. Standing there alone, she wondered if there was a way to alter the uniform, or if she could wear a cardigan on top of it until she got enough information and excused herself from the team. After all, she didn’t need to be in the squad when the games came around, she most likely only needed to be there at training for a few weeks; she could always claim a sprained ankle after that.
Smiling to herself, Celaena walked out into the hallway and she heard the second bell was ringing. Annoyed with her own distraction, she started walking faster towards her math class. Her scholarship could get compromised if she got in trouble for being late. She could have paid for the fees and avoided the trouble of applying for the scholarship altogether, but there was no point wasting any of her hard-earned fortune on school. Arobynn would have never accepted paying for it, and she didn’t want to ask either. So she depended on her brain, her good grades, and her good behavior. 
She hid behind a locker as she watched a teacher walking around a hallway, hoping not to be seen. She needed an idea, and she needed it fast. There was no way she’d be caught in the hallway when classes had already begun, and she couldn’t really sneak into the classroom unseen. Her brain pulled up the blueprint of the school, and she came up with a plan in less than a second. 
Once the teacher was out of view, she jumped out and made her way to the end of the hallway as fast as possible, her feet barely touching the floor and making no noise. She looked to both sides before running through another corridor and making her way to the door of the infirmary. She sneaked inside as silent as a ghost and laid on a bed before the nurse would even notice she was there. She closed her eyes, propped an arm over her face, and  waited. 
It was only a few moments before she heard a surprised gasp, and opened her eyes, moving her arm down and making her eyelids flutter. She looked around confused, making herself blink slowly.
“Where did you come from?” the nurse asked, sounding a little jumpy.
“Sorry,” Celaena said in a pained voice. “I suddenly felt awful, I thought I was going to pass out. A freshman helped me here, I don’t know where he’s gone….” she trailed off, making her eyelids drop, and then reopening them slowly. “I think I just need some rest,” she added.
The nurse was already rushing around her, checking her pulse and putting a hand against her forehead to make sure she didn’t have a fever.
“Your temperature is fine,” the lady said, and Celaena concentrated on her breathing, making her heartbeat as slowly as she could. “Your pulse is a little weak,” the nurse said soon after, walking around to a little table and searching in the drawers.
“Let me guess,” the nurse said. “Is it that time of the month?”
Celaena opened her eyes a little as if hearing the greatest news but being too tired to do something about it. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it, you’re completely right. It’s meant to be tomorrow,” she said, wiping nonexistent sweat off her brows.
“Here,” the nurse said, giving her a glass of water, a painkiller, and a lolly. “The sweet will help get your blood sugar back up. You girls nowadays with your diets, you don’t ever eat enough! I will write you a slip so you can take it to class once you feel better. Stay here for now as I go over to inform the office of your whereabouts.”
With that, the nurse left the room, her wide hips swaying from one side to the other as she entered the room in the back. Celaena looked up at the white roof and sighed. It would be embarrassing to get to class too late, so she thought she might as well fake it till the bell rang. She wouldn't miss much as she probably knew everything in the math curriculum already.
There was still fifteen minutes left when the door to the infirmary opened up, and Chaol Westfall walked in. He didn’t look surprised to find Celaena there, and she wondered if she was the sole reason he had come around.
“Celaena,” he said as a way of hello.
“Chaol,” she replied, making her voice sound as flat as possible.
“Ms. Doranelle sent me over to check on you, she’s going to take the last ten minutes of class to do a surprise test and she’d want you to be a part of it if you’re feeling better,” he said as he stood with his back against the open door.
Celaena lifted her brows, not being able to believe that they would send over for her for something so trivial. She let her eyelids half drop, making her look tired again.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to go back,” she replied in a weak tone. Chaol didn’t look convinced as he took a step towards her.
“You shouldn’t fake sickness, what’s even wrong with you? Your stomach? Do you have any kind of illness?” He asked, taking another step towards her as if daring her to lie to his face. Celaena had wondered before about the weirdness of this nerd being Dorian’s best friend, but she could now see they shared their clear stubbornness. 
“I’m not that kind of sick,” Celaena said, a little smug smile tugging on her lips.
“Then, what’s wrong with you?” Chaol asked, his eyebrows raised again.
“It’s... That time of the month, you know,” Celaena replied, containing the laughter.
Chaol’s expression changed, his brows lifting higher up, and then dropping all the way down. He took a step backward and almost tripped as his cheeks flushed red and his lips went pale. 
“Oh, yeah, that... sorry,” he muttered as he took another step back and turned around, almost tripping with the doorframe as he bolted out of the room.
Celaena laughed then, a real laugh, and had to cover her mouth not to startle the nurse, who was still inside her little office.
The rest of the day passed in a breeze, and Celaena found herself content at the end of the day, realizing she had survived her first week of high school. She reminded herself that she was strong, that the years on the streets had taught her everything she needed to know about the world, and that if she could survive Arobynn, then she could certainly survive school.
When she jumped up on her bike at the end of the day, she was grinning from ear to ear. The ride to the mansion would only take a few minutes, so she took a detour and rode around town for a while, letting the wind mess up her hair. She was glad for the thrill, for the rush of adrenaline that made her feel alive, for the freedom of being able to ride the roads without worrying about prying eyes.
Once she made it into the mansion, she was surprised to find Arobynn and Sam in the foyer. Cortland still had his school backpack hanging from a shoulder, and his posture seemed a little tighter than normal. Celaena had learned to read his postures and expressions after spending so much of their time training together, and she could tell something was going on, something had happened.
“Afternoon,” Arobynn greeted her as she reached them in the middle of the foyer. She composed her face into a pleasant smile and stood a step behind Sam.
“You’re not one to wait by the foyer, what’s going on here?” She asked, her brows rising slightly.
“I was just sharing some developments and news with Sam,” Arobynn announced. Sam’s back was straight, and his chin was tilted up, looking right into Arobynn’s grey eyes.
“Spit it out, and tell me what’s happening, Arobynn. Does it have anything to do with my parents and my mission?” She asked, unable to keep her cool any longer.
“Nothing to do with you Celaena,” Arobynn dismissed her with a shake of his hand. “There’s a tournament coming up in a few weeks, and I know Sam here is ready to step up.” He said as he looked back at his subordinate. Arobynn’s stern posture wasn’t giving anything away. “Sam will be joining the guild.”
Celaena’s heart leaped, and she glanced at Sam without even thinking about it. His posture was still rigid and his jaw was clenched as he nodded once, his eyes fixed on Arobynn’s. She looked back to the older man, who looked barely a few years older than them with his long auburn hair, and she forced herself to smile. 
“Congratulations, Cortland,” she said.
Hope you enjoyed it! And thanks so much again for popping by! I’m loving all the support of this amazing community! :D
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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years
Text
Dodging Death Pt 15 (Proto Cu, Cu Chulainn, Rin, Ereshkigal)
Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
___
She’d come to this world with one intention: find the king that was supposed to die and immediately take him to the underworld.
That was it. Ishtar had already made this whole process a thousand times more complicated than it needed to be. She was supposed to be looking for a human and would have had a much easier time if Ishtar hadn’t butted herself into the whole affair.
Then again, she’d asked for Ishtar to help her.
She’d thought that Ishtar would be tying him down or casting a castration spell or simply tripping him before complaining that her feet hurt so bad and no one loved her. She’d expected something much more Ishtar-oriented. Instead, what had the woman done?
She’d turned Gilgamesh into a cat.
A golden, puffy feline.
They’d had to run to one of the other gods to be able to trail after the king through his tear through time. That had taken enough of an effort that he had actual time and adjustment to this life and world. He could have been anywhere, anywhere at all and they would have to go hunting him down like a beast in the wild.
“I know what we can do,” Ishtar had told her.
She didn’t want to know what the plan was.
Thinking about it now, Ereshkigal couldn’t think of anything she wanted to know less about. Her sister was going to end up creating a mess of trouble in this time and it would be entirely up to her to fix it all. Their father would hound her about it. Her brother would roll his eyes and return to worshiping his wife. Their mother would wince.
The one upside to the whole thing was that she was in the underworld.
She was at least able to distract herself with her audit of those who had died. Small favors were still favors.
“Miss?”
Ereshkigal looked up, noting the same lookalike that Hakuno had pointed out before she’d left.
“Miss, we’re about twenty minutes to close. I wanted to let you know so that you could find a good stopping point and make sure to check out your books before you go.”
The books she’d found were actually rather cute. There were lots of precious pictures of families and their feline friends. She had no idea what they said, but the pictures were worth looking at. It was like someone had frozen the people of this world in a still image, preserved forever more like a painting. She’d tried scratching at one of the pages a bit earlier in time and found that the images weren’t even made of paints.
These people were fascinating.
“Thank you,” Ereshkigal told the woman.
Turning back to her book, Ereshkigal pressed her fingers lightly to a cat with similar patterns to that of Gilgamesh’s cat form.
After this was all said and done and the great and noble king of Uruk was in the underworld… maybe she would have to come back here. She could spend a few days in this time, learning how to read the strange script of this world and spending more time with that girl from before.
Hakuno was so full of life.
There had been no malice or hatred. She’d shared no ill will or ulterior motives. When she had spoken of a cat, the woman had immediately assumed she had wanted one and had described the beauty of the beasts. It was thanks to her that she could see these beautiful images.
Her eyes strayed to the card that the woman had given her with a contacting method.
Her eyes drifted to the woman at the counter.
First things first, she needed an answer.
Ereshkigal stood up and hurried over to the counter.
“Are you ready to check out?”
“Umm. No,” the language of these people were a bit difficult. She’d used magic to learn, but it was still a challenge. She set the card on the desk. “Can you… Can you tell me how to use this?”
The woman, Rin, looked down at the card before laughing a little.
The woman brushed her hair back.
“This is a phone number. You’d use it on a phone. You must have been getting along really well for Hakuno to give you her number. She just got recently engaged.”
“I-I just came here from far away… Hakuno said she would be my friend.”
It felt so strange to say it to this woman. It was like confessing to her sister.
Rin raised a brow and smiled.
“You must have been getting along really well for Hakuno to give you her number,” she said again. “And your accent is really cute. You must be from somewhere near where Hakuno’s fiancée is from. You just take this card and go to type in the digits.” She pulled out a device and pressed the buttons, the woman’s name showing on the phone. “Click the green button and it will start dialing.”
“A phone…”
Rin frowned a little. “…Do you not have one?”
She expected a laugh.
Ishtar was always laughing and causing trouble like that. She would get the haughty, hip swaying retort a moment before one of them would get pissed off at the other making a comment. They’d begin fighting and there’d be another series of destroyed buildings for the rest of the gods to clean up.
“Miss,” Rin was still frowning. “Do you… Do you have somewhere to stay in town?”
“I’ve been wandering in the streets.”
“The streets?!”
“My sister um… she kind of abandoned me.”
Rin moved around the counter, her face in a mixture of anger and something else. She barely had time to flinch before she felt the other’s arms around her. She was pressed against the other’s chest, held tightly to the woman.
“Miss Rin?”
“Good god, no wonder Hakuno gave you her number. I can’t believe that. Do you know how dangerous it is right now? There’s an axe murderer out there right now!”
“I’ll be okay-“
“NO! No.” Rin pulled back, holding her shoulders. “I can’t allow it. If you can’t stay with me, let me at least get you a hotel room for a night. Or I have a couple friends that would be able to hole you up for the evening. My um… I have a guy that I sometimes spend time with for the sake of personal amusement that would be able to take you in… if you were okay with it. His roommate is a great cook.”
“I don’t know them though…”
“Or you could stay over with me? Or your own hotel room.  I don’t need to know the room number or anything!”
She was still being hugged.
This had to be the strangest day she’d ever had in her entire life. She was being hugged by someone that looked exactly like Ishtar, all the way to the voice. The only difference were those eyes. The deep blue eyes were so soothing.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Ereshkigal tried.
“You’re coming home with me,” Rin told her simply.
A voice drew their conversation to a stop. Rin’s head turned immediately before Ereshkigal found herself yanked over to the blue haired man nearby.
“Cu!” Rin smirked, “this is my temporary roommate.”
“My name is Ereshkigal,” Ereshkigal found herself saying.
“Right!” Rin smiled, hugging her again. The hugs were becoming addictive. “Eresh doesn’t have anywhere to stay and has been living on the streets!”
“Geez, are you tryin’ to die?” Cu stared at her in horror. “You got bags somewhere we gotta grab?”
“Bags?”
“Your things,” Rin explained. “That’s a good point, Cu.”
“I don’t have things.”
The two stared at her before Rin moved to Cu.
“I’m sorry! I just- I don’t really need things and my sister had what we brought,” she tried to explain.
“Your sister is going to get her ass beaten by me,” Rin snarled. “The first thing I will do when I see her is give her a good smack to the face.”
Cu was practically glowing at her words.
“Anyway,” Rin huffed. “Since you have nothing, I can’t stand for this. Eresh, you can borrow something of mine. I might be a bit small in size for you, but I think I have something.”
“I appreciate it.”
She didn’t know what else to say on the matter, but that was alright. The two began to talk and Ereshkigal found herself waiting with Cu as Rin went about closing the library. There was a little man that came out from the back to grumble and complain about Hakuno before leaving. There was a tall woman that looked like she would have been one of the more foreboding spirits in the depths of Kur. She followed the little man out.
Rin led them to the doors and locked up, testing the doors and waving to the strange little device near the doors.
“Hakuno out today?” Cu asked.
“No, we had her leave early.” Rin shook her head as they headed to a strange metal wagon nearby. Ereshkigal found herself ushered into the back before the two climbed into the front seats.
“How come?”
“Hakuno, in her great brilliance, brought her boyfriend to work with her. Hans got a bit hot under the collar. Kiara started making some little comments here and there. I decided I could use the extra hours.”
“Did they do something?”
“Hans says they didn’t,” Rin told them. Her eyes flickered between the two of them before her smirk became bigger. “Kiara swears up and down that she saw the two of them having a moment by the magazines. She made it sound like Hakuno was doing… less than appropriate behavior.”
That sounded more like Ishtar.
It was so weird to sit here, listening. Cu would keep the conversation going, earning more and more Ishtar-like gossip by the woman. The smug smile was so familiar that she had the need to almost ask Ishtar what she was doing here.
She was too similar.
“Welcome home!” Rin told her, the wagon coming to a stop near a quiet building.
“This is your home?”
“Our home,” Rin corrected. “At least until you can get on your feet again.”
“I’ll stay here with you both just to look after you.” The man grinned a bit, “Rin’s a good egg, but she is a terrible snorer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Terrible,” Cu went on. “You’ll see her pass out when watching TV with you and you just hear this sound. It’s like a loud foghorn, escaping straight from that mou-“
Rin smacked his arm, storming out of the car.
“She’s a great woman,” Cu told her. “I’m just here because Rin’s been having a few nightmares and you stayin’ gives me a good reason to both stop the nightmares and keep ya both safe.”
Ereshkigal simply nodded.
“Come on,” Cu nodded towards the doors, leaving her to climb out and follow him into the house.
The two led her to a room. Rin gave her a nightgown, beaming proudly at seeing her get excited. The nightgown was cute. Even better, it matched another that Rin had changed into.
They settled onto a large cushioned bench together, Rin and her both cuddled up next to Cu. Cu turned on the large portrait somehow, illuminating it with a great deal of light before he found-
“You mind?” Cu glanced over at her. “Rin likes mysteries and this is supposed to be funny.”
“It’s a play?”
“A movie,” Rin told her, like that explained everything.
Something buzzed a moment before Cu was feeling his pockets. He pulled out one of those phones, his name showing a moment before Cu held the phone to his ear.
“Ah, so you finished work?” Cu laughed at a small voice coming from the phone. “I’m over with Rin and our friend Ereshkigal.”
The sounds began again, but stopped a second before Cu spoke again.
“Ah… hold on.” Cu pressed his phone to his chest. “Rin? You mind if Proto comes?”
���Junior? Sure… but, don’t let him get up to too much trouble. If he does anything-“
“I’ll keep him on a leash,” Cu promised, brushing the woman’s hair.
He spoke on his phone a moment longer before they settled in. The two of them began to wait, with Rin going to the door and turning on the light. It didn’t take a great deal of time before there was another Cu looking guy there. He was younger, he had shorter hair, but he seemed nice enough.
“Oh… Hi.”
Ereshkigal smiled to the man. “Hi.”
“…Hi.”
Ereshkigal glanced over at the other two, finding Cu smacking the boy upside the head.
“Eyes on the TV, Junior,” Cu growled.
They settled back down to watch the strange movie, which, as it happened, was a strange and beautiful play. They paused it about halfway, with the main actress sobbing over an old man that she had given bad medicine to.
“I have to use the restroom,” Rin told them, pressing the pause button and hurrying towards the other room.
“I’ll be right back,” Cu told them, heading into the room with cooking things in it.
Proto looked around.
“I feel so bad for the apsu,” Ereshkigal breathed, looking at the frozen faces of the actors. “She loved the man. You can see it in her eyes.”
Humans were so astounding.
She could feel all that pain, all that terror and horror in her eyes was stalled. The wrinkles on her forehead were so prominent.
“I don’t think this is the truth,” Proto murmured.
“What? But she can’t lie,” Ereshkigal pointed out.
“Oh, no. She can, but she gets sick. She’s also a nurse,” Proto pointed out. “I bet you she’s taken something for it.”
“Do you think so?”
“We can look it up,” Proto offered, pulling out his phone. “It’ll take me maybe a minute to find out the plot to this movie.”
“…You can phone someone?”
“Ah, no, I was going to use the internet.”
“The internet?”
Proto began to laugh, “You sound like Gil when I first showed him how to use his tablet. Come here, I’ll show ya.”
Ereshkigal stared at the phone, her eyes widening.
The phone was a universe in a rectangle. The man looked up the actors of the play. He looked up a video of a cat when she mentioned cats. He showed her a video of someone falling off a wagon and into a lake, which he laughed about for several minutes.
She leaned against his arm, watching in fascination.
“You can look up anything with this?”
“Anything at all. I can buy things with this.”
“That’s amazing.”
Proto glanced over at her, his smile growing.
“…What?”
“Nothin’. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve had a girl tell me that somethin’ I’m doing is amazing.”
“You are amazing! I never would have guessed that a phone could do so much.”
The man’s face turned pink, making her lean in closer.
“…are you okay?”
“You’re name’s Eresh, right?”
She opened her mouth to point out that it was actually Ereshkigal, but… No one was here to really point that out except her. Ishtar had run off with the king’s axe in hand. Rin and Cu were already calling her their friend and was giving her nice things and a room. She had… friends.
The thought made her vision swim.
“Whoa, whoa!” Proto moved immediately, facing her more. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. Is it an insult or something-“
“M-My name is Eresh.” Ereshkigal smiled a bit, shaking her head. “It’s just… It’s really nice to be around people that are kind.”
“Ah, shit.” Proto shook his head, She felt his arms wrap around her tightly, pressing her against his chest.
“CU! YOUR BROTHER-“
“OI! LAY OFF RIN!” Proto yelled over at her. “ERESH WAS CRYING BECAUSE SHE’S HAPPY TO HAVE FRIENDS! LET ME GIVE A DAMN HUG!”
She felt another hug against her. Rin was wrapping her arms around her tight, tugging her away from a squawking Proto and against her shoulder instead.
“I’ve got you,” Rin murmured. “You’re going to be my sister and friend, alright? Remember I’m friend number one.”
Rin was amazing.
Hakuno had been so right.
She had been on the roads of this city for so long, hunting for that damn king that wouldn’t let himself die. She had been so cold and so tired. Her sister was doing something stupid no doubt. There was never anyone to talk to and, when there was, she was always at the short end of the whole thing.
Hakuno had let her have three friends.
She had Cu. She had Proto. Most importantly, she had Rin.
“D-do you want to watch the rest of the movie?” she asked her first and best friend and sister, Rin.
“Well,” Rin grinned, “we can, but I think we should make Proto and Cu break out the wine. If we’re going to cry, we’re going to cry because of wine.”
The next time she saw Hakuno, Ereshkigal decided, she was going to make sure that woman knew that she would give any favor, anything at all, to her.
Proto held her tightly after the wine was poured and the movie was resumed.
Rin cuddled against Cu, holding her hand as the film continued.
This was the best night of her life.
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daemyiel · 5 years
Note
prompts 36 & 3? :)) angst to fluff?
I'm so sorry it took so long but I decided to do this with Roger and I didn't want to rush the story I had in my head.
It was late. You had put your son Chavez to bed hours ago and had tried yourself to fall asleep. But your stupid mind wouldn’t let you rest. You were worried about your boyfriend, Roger. He had gone out drinking with his band. Again. You didn’t usually mind, he deserved to have fun, he worked hard, but he’s been going out quite a lot recently. Between going out and work you had only seen him drunk or nursing a hangover. His son had seen him less. That last thought made you angry at Roger. Chavez idolized his father. When Roger was on tour Chavez would get so upset if he missed one of Roger’s calls. On the last album Chavez cried so much that Roger ended up taking him to the studio almost everyday.
It was half three in the morning when he stumbled through your bedroom door. “Why are you awake?” He asked when he realised you wasn't asleep.
“Because I was wondering when you’d decide to come back.” You said with nearly no emotion in your voice. He managed to strip to his boxers and get into bed without causing any serious harm to himself.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked, crawling in her the covers. You were but if you said anything now he would apologise way too much and not go to sleep for a while, only to forget about it completely tomorrow when he is sober.
“No. I was just worried.” You lied.
“I didn’t mean to worry you.” He mumbled into your hair and wrapped his arms around you.
Roger had to be in the studio again, they had booked it for dinner time so everyone had enough time to get rid of their hangovers. The sun was shining and a soft summer breeze drifted through the air, it was perfect, so you decided to take Chavez to the park. But first you had to talk to Roger.
When you got up to make breakfast he was still in a deep sleep. When you were dressing Chavez you could hear him being sick in the bathroom. He came down stairs at eleven, looking like a zombie. “You missed breakfast.” You stated. Roger could tell something was wrong. He knew you were mad at him but you were trying to stay calm for the sake of your son.
“I’m not hungry.” His voice was raspy . His throat sore from being sick. He poured himself a big mug of coffee and mixed some sugar in before heavily sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.
“Have you had any Paracetamol?” you asked getting the toaster out again and putting two slices of bread in for your hungover boyfriend. You thought about letting him do it himself but decided not to.
“yeah.” He had both hands wrapped around the coffee mug like is was the only thing keeping him alive. The next few minutes was spent in silence as you waited for the toast to pop, then you buttered it and placed it in front of him . You even cut both slices in half.
“come on little man,” you said to your son, breaking the silence. “Why don’t you go play with the new toys uncle Freddie got you.” And you led him into the living room. Now Roger knew his was in trouble. Big trouble. You only took Chavez into another room because you wanted to talk to Roger. And not the nice kind of talking either. He sighed and continued eating his toast, there was no way out of this, he just had to wait for you to come back.
You walked back into the kitchen to find Roger finishing off his toast. He had been hungry, you were right. You sat down after him wondering how to start the conversation off. “Are you going out for drinks tonight?”
“Not that I know of.” Roger had no idea What you wanted to talk about. He thought you were going to row with him but this seemed normal, too normal.
“Look Rog,” there it is, he thought, he didn’t know what he done wrong. The best thing was just to let you say what you had to, and see what he could do, come to a compromise or something. “I know you’ve been working hard and you deserve to relax and go out and enjoy yourself with the boys. But does it have to be so often.” Your voice was soft but with seriousness woven in. “You can have a drink, but do you have to drink so much? You don’t have to get absolutely shitfaced to have a good time, you can have a few and still enjoy yourself. I feel like I barely see you, and when I do I’m only taking care of you, either helping you get to bed because your so drunk, or trying to help you with your hangover. And it’s worse for Chavez. He loves you so much and he rarely see’s you now.” Roger looked down embarrassed. You took a deep breathe and ran you hand through you hair. “I know we had Chavez young and neither of us were prepared. And I knew you were the type to go out and have fun, and that energy is what drew me to you,” Roger’s eyes met yours again. “But when I told you I was expecting you told me. You promised me you’d look after us. I love going out with you, I love the wild parties. But I haven’t been to many because I have responsibilities now, we both do. Chavez is the most important person in our lives right now, and he really misses you . For his sake just cut down on the parties, please.” You practically begged him.
“I didn’t realise. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.” Roger looked you in the eye and you could see how sorry he was. “I’ll do better I promise. How about I blow off the studio and come with you to the park?” Roger half smiled a thing he dose when he’s request something like this. Like the time he told the boys he couldn’t meet them because he was ill when he actually took you out.
“Roger no you can’t do that. See if you can get tomorrow off or something.” You smiled back. As much as you wanted him to come he couldn’t let the band down.
You were in luck however, not twenty minutes after, John rang to tell Roger not to bother to come because Freddie said he was too hungover and Brian had only just woken up.
Chavez never left Roger side all day. He didn’t let go of Roger’s hand on the way to the park, and they had a consistent conversation the whole journey. At one point they giggled at something said (their laughs almost similar) and when you asked what they were laughing about they responded with a nothing in unison in a tone that you knew meant the were planning something mischievous.
They were walking slightly ahead of you holding hands. Chavez looked so small in comparison to his father. You took this moment to take a photo with your trusty camera that you have with almost everywhere. Your memory tended to fail you and you find that pictures helped keep them securely in your mind.
When the trio reached the park Chavez instantly ran to the slide and Roger was in pursuit. They run around for ages , switching from one thing to another. They have too much energy, you thought as Roger was now chasing the mini version of himself to the climbing frame.
When it got to dinner time none of you wanted to leave the park so you ventured off and bought back some sandwiches, drinks and some crisps from the shops. You had to tell the boys to stop and eat and then they could run riot again. You watched with love as Roger helped Chavez eat and opened his crisp packet for him, all the anger you felt towards Roger had dissolved now. Within fifteen minutes they were up and running about again, leaving you to clear up the rubbish. You picked up their empty crisp packets and noticed that they both left the crust of their sandwiches.
You ended up spending the whole day at the park. Sometime after dinner Roger walked back to the shop to buy a loaf of bread to feed the ducks while you convinced your son to drink some more juice.
You managed to get a really good photo of Roger and Chavez feeding the ducks. They soon realised that if a while slice of bread was thrown in the ducks would swarm in and try to get a hold of the biggest piece. The lucky duck that did manage to get it would swim away as fast as it could. Your son and boyfriend found this highly amusing.
“Do ducks have ears?” Roger thought out loud, after all the bread had been used up rather quickly as they both kept tossing whole slices in the water instead of ripping it apart. You was about to tell him that all birds have ears, you just can’t see them. “They must do, otherwise how could hear the other ducks.” He answered his own question.
You started heading back home just as the sun started to set. Just like the walk up Roger and Chavez was walking in front of you. Well Roger was walking, Chavez was sat in his father’s shoulders after complaining about how tired he was. You let yourself get lost in thought as you gazed at them. The setting sun in front of the duo reflecting off their blonde hair cast the illusion of the pair having golden halos. You laughed at this thought because you knew of all people that they could be devil’s if they wanted to. Nevertheless, you picked up you camera and took a magnificent photo, that would become one if your favourites.
It had been two days since your little family outing to the park. Roger had to go back to the studio. You felt happy. Since the talk you had with Roger everything was fine. It had simply been a small bump in the road and one you’d both probably forget about and replace with happy memories, like the ones you had from the park. Everything was right again.
You should have known it wouldn’t have lasted long.
8:30pm
You put Chavez to bed. Made yourself a cup of tea and continued reading Lord of the Rings. The pages were soft and there was many stains in various pages that told that the book was well read many times. There was even a stain in the cover where you accidently spilt tea on it.
Roger and the boys had a few things to wrap up at the studio it wouldn’t take them too long Brian had mentioned the pub, but they wasn’t sure if they were actually going or not.
9:45pm
You shifted in the arm chair as you had become uncomfortable and decided that you would read in bed. You figured that with the boys not being in the studio for so long they probably had a lot of work to get done.
The band had gone to the pub in the end, the Nags Head their favourite. Freddie said that he couldn’t have too many because he was taking Chavez and little Deacons out the next day. Roger had also said that he was going to go steady tonight, but didn’t say that is was because he got told off.
11:14pm
You had reached the end of another chapter and your eyelids grew heavy so you decided sleep was necessary and that Roger would be back soon. They should be finished or finishing up by now, but the studio wasn’t exactly just around the corner for you and Roger, so he was most likely to be back late. Although it already was late.
They were a few rounds in and starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Freddie had now switched to soft drinks and starting to think about when he should leave. One of the other band members, Roger couldn’t remember who, had brought shots over to the table. “Rog weren't you going to go steady?” Freddie asked Roger, hoping that the would refuse the shot.
“I am, but one won’t hurt.” He downed the alcohol straight after saying this.
1:34am
You had been in a restless sleep all night. You rolled over to see Roger’s side if the bed untouched. Now you were beyond angry. You knew what he had done. He’d gone out and not even bothered to call you. You felt so stupid. He had tricked you into thinking that he would stick to his promise by being the ideal boyfriend and father for three days, then turns around and does what you asked him not to do.
Freddie had left to go home just before midnight. A couple of drinks for Roger had turned into many and if he continued at the pace he was going he probably wouldn’t be able to stand properly, let alone walk home.
4:23am
Roger finally makes it home. You were in a half sleep kind of trance, anger and worry not letting you fully rest. You heard your drunk boyfriend trip on his way up the stairs and curse. You heard his shoulder being dragged across the hallway, obviously trying to stay upright. You heard him fumble with the door handle before he was coordinated enough to actually open it. He stumbled forward nearly falling over. Kicked off his shoes. Pulled his shirt over his head. And passed out, face first on his side of the bed. You shook your head and managed to get some sleep now in the knowledge that he was home and safe. Well he wouldn’t be safe tomorrow when the felt the wrath of (Y/N).
You got up at nine. Chavez was tired so he had sleep longer in the morning. Freddie was coming soon to get him so you best get up. You glanced to your left to see Roger face down on top of the covers, in the same position he was when he stumbled home last night.
You got Chavez washed and dressed knowing that Freddie would be here any minute. (It was ten minutes past the time he said he would come, but you expected him to be late anyway) You was in the kitchen washing up breakfast, that once again Roger had missed, when Chavez run to his room to find the perfect toy to take with him today.
While Chavez was deciding between a red sports car that his dad got him or the fluffy duck that Freddie got him he heard his dad moving about in bed. The three year old didn’t see him at all yesterday, quickly making his decision he grabbed the duck and ran into his parents bed room wanting to see his dad.
Roger felt like someone had placed one of the massive speakers from tour in his head and any little sound was amplified way too loud making his head throb. The small amount of light sneaking in through the curtains was like sharp daggers adding to the pain in his head.
He heard Chavez coming. He could hear him running. He willed that he didn’t come in Roger just wanted to sleep some more and try and get better once the house was silent.
But it didn’t work. Chavez jumped on the bed next to Roger repeating his name. “Chavez stop.” Roger moaned at him. The three year old didn’t. “Chavez I mean it. Go to your mother.” Roger raised his voice slightly, getting annoyed.
“But daddy I haven’t seen you and wanted to sho-"
“CHAVEZ FUCKING LISTEN TO ME!” Roger’s temper had got the better of him, and for a moment there was complete silence. That was broke by the sobs coming from the small child that only wanted his father’s company.
You heard Roger shout from the kitchen. You knew Chavez could be a handful sometimes but Roger had never shouted like that at him. You opened the door to see Chavez crying his heart out and a guilty Roger trying to reach out for him. But Chavez ignored Roger and held his arms out to you. You glared at Roger as you picked up your son. He hurried his head into your shoulder as you carried him out.
He was sobbing whilst repeatedly apologising. Whatever happened it wasn’t Chavez’s fault. When he was in trouble he didn’t cry he tried to get out of it. He only cried if he was scared. “Chavez baby you didn’t do anything wrong okay, daddy didn’t mean to shout at you.” You lied. You had to he thought he done something terrible.
After a couple of minutes he stopped crying and Freddie rolled up to pick up his Nephew. He could tell something was wrong but decided against mentioning it.
Freddie had always said if you ever needed to you could stay at his, always. You never thought you would have to take him up on his offer. After Freddie took Chavez out you stormed up stairs with all the fury you would ever muster. You and Roger argued. And like any agreement things from way back in the past got dragged up, unnecessarily opening old wounds. You both cursed and screamed until You was blue in the face. The monstrous fight ended with tears from both parties and you with Chavez staying with Freddie still nearly two months later.
There had been a few calls from Roger that you ignored and he would ask Freddie about you when they saw each other, but the calls ceased and the meet ups with any band member became few. So much that the boys were worried.
Freddie had told you that he was going to Roger with Brian and John. You were fine with it, how could you not be. Freddie was still Roger’s friend after all, and you can’t control Freddie. But Freddie had been gone for a good few hours and you was starting to get worried.
When Freddie did come back he looked tried. He sat down next to you and sighed. Chavez was put in bed not long ago and silenced engulf the both of you. “Freddie what’s wrong?” you asked barely above a whisper, something had to be wrong, you had to know if it was this serious.
Freddie paused before answering, thinking over his words before speaking them. “He isn’t looking after himself properly.” He was looking everywhere but in your eye.
“What’s New? That was the problem, he doesn’t look after himself and doesn’t care about the effect on other people. People who care about him.” This time you adverted your gaze.
“No this is different.” You met Freddie’s eye. “it’s different this time.” He rubbed his eye and huffed out a breath. “He hasn’t been eating. He isn’t sleeping, I doubt he’s showered recently. We tried talking to him and he got upset and locked himself in the bedroom. Then he refused to co-operate .”
“what do mean refuse to co-operate?”
The conversation got interrupted by the phone ringing. Freddie stood up to answer it, almost glad for the excuse to stop talking. “Brian?” Freddie answered. “well that’s good... well, that’s not so good... just the one thing?... what’s he saying?... okay, give me a minute.” Freddie rested the phone on the table walked over to you. “(y/n) Brian stayed at Roger’s to keep an eye on him and he managed to get him out of the bedroom but he’s still not co-operating he keeps repeatedly asking Brian for...” Freddie was explaining this fast until this point.
“For what?” you were desperate to know.
“He’s asking for you.” Freddie watched your eyes, seeing the many different emotions run through them.
You had no idea What to do so many different thoughts was running through your mind that they were cancelling each other out. You acted on the only rational thought right now. You took a deep breathe and picked up the phone with a patient Brian waiting on the other end.
“Brian it’s (y/n) What's the situation?”
“I assume Freddie has already told you what happened when he was here?”
“Yes he has.”
“Well-“ there was a noise in the background, a muffled voice, “Roger just wait I need t-" Brian was interrupted by Roger snatching the phone from him
“(y/n)?” Roger’s voice was different. It wasn’t cocky or full of confidence, it was small and a little hoarse.
You hesitated. “Yes. Roger"
“Baby, please just listen, just once. I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I should have listened to you, I was stupid, I am stupid. You’ve always tried to do what’s best for me, for us and what I did was selfish. And I love you, I love you more than you’ll know. No, more than that I adore you and I’m a mess without you and Chavez. You two are my entire world. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. I just... I’d love for you to come home, but you don’t have to I want to give you time, as much as you need. But please, please forgive me. Please.”
Freddie didn’t know what Roger was saying to you but he could see the tears forming in your eyes and threating to fall. He gently took the phone from your hand, told Roger not to worry, he’d sort things out, and wrapped you in a bear hug.
“What are you going to do?” He quietly asked after you had calmed down.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about him. It’s not just the drinking it’s so many different little things before. But, that’s all it was, little things. I, I just don’t know.” You desperately looked at Freddie hoping he would have the answers to your questions.
“I think you now what you should do.” Freddie advised. He didn’t know at all, but it was the safest option when his friend desperately needed help and he had absolutely no idea What to do.
“I miss him.” You stood up. “I have to go to him, I have to go home.” You started running around packing a bag, then suddenly stopped and gasped. “Oh, Chavez.”
“Darling don’t worry, I’ll look after him until you sort everything out with Roger.”
“You are an angel.” You missed Freddie’s cheek, grabbed your keys and drove home.
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lgbtyrus · 5 years
Text
Two Exes on Mars
A Tyrus fic where they’re aged up + broken up :) It will have a ‘happily ever after’, I promise. Note: IDK if you know your Andi Mack lore, but just in case, Shadyside is in a fictional US state called Midwest.
Part 1/? (I’m thinking 3 or 4)
Words: 2,668
He kissed him goodbye. It wasn’t even rainy or cloudy outside, much less foggy. It was super bright and sunny, and Cyrus could hear every single bird in Shadyside chirping as his now ex-boyfriend walked out the front door of his house. He waited until TJ was out of his driveway to shut the door and break out in tears, pressing his forehead and fist against his door.
Why? he wondered. Why? Why? Why?
But he knew why. He knew why TJ had let him go in the worst breakup in the world. He had tried to a week ago which led to Cyrus breaking down in front of him and ended up with them back together. But the tension between them was so obviously, and it lead to TJ’s horrible mood swings and random outbursts he never apologized for. It made Cyrus feel like crap. Then in the middle of the week, TJ tried breaking up with him over text. Cyrus ignored it, and TJ went over to his house the next day like nothing had happened. Not even three days later, TJ came over to break up him a third time. For good.
That just happened two minutes ago, and Cyrus silently let him leave this time. He shouldn’t have ever let him see him cry.
“You have to go to California, Cyrus,” TJ had told him, his eyes red and his hands clenching into tight fists. All Cyrus could do was stare at the floor. It’s not everyday you get a chance to go to USC, but it also meant leaving everyone you loved behind- including TJ. Him and TJ had been together since the 8th grade, and he had included TJ in all of his future plans. For him, being in a long distance relationship was a possibility, and he never thought TJ would be against it.
“I want to go to MSU,” Cyrus shook his head, refusing to look at him. TJ was going to MSU on a basketball scholarship, and yeah, they had a theatre and screenwriting, but it wasn’t USC. It was one of the hardest choices Cyrus had to make.
“You’re clearly lying, Cyrus,” TJ let out a frustrated sigh, “I know when you’re lying.” It’s true, he did. His hands always instinctively went inside a pocket, and Cyrus has never been able to stop it. “Cyrus. I know I’m the main reason why you want to stay in Midwest, but I want you to go to USC. It’s what you want.”
“Does that mean we have to break up, though?” Cyrus asked him sadly, his voice quiet. TJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair and let out a deep breath.
“We’d be doing long distance for four years, Cyrus. I don’t want to hold you back from being at your prime if you’re moping around missing me the entire time.”
“Are you just saying this because you’re the one that’s not going to be fine?” There wasn’t even a pause.
“Yes, Cyrus!” TJ said loudly, startling Cyrus. “I can’t spend four years of my life being sad because I miss you all the time, but I also can’t live with the guilt I’m going to feel if you don’t go to USC. This entire situation is driving me insane, and I really think breaking up is the best way to go.”
“You honestly think that?” Cyrus frowned, looking right up at him. He didn’t want to break down like he did the first time. “You’re just giving up? Not even giving long distance a try. After five years, TJ?”
TJ shamefully looked away before saying, “I love you, Cyrus. But I think it’d hurt less to let you go.”
“How?” Cyrus’ voice started to tremble as he spoke in complete disbelief, “How can you even say you love me right now?” TJ didn’t say anything. He just slowly walking up to Cyrus, each step taking its own time before cupping his face in his hands and kissing him softly.
TJ pulled away, whispering, “Bye, Cyrus.”
Cyrus was now sitting on his bedroom floor, playing music louder than his occasional sob. Andi and Buffy were on their way, but until then, it was him, and a lone polaroid picture he had of him and TJ on their first Valentine’s Day together right in front of him. Him and TJ were sitting on one side of the booth at The Spoon while Marty and Buffy sat on the other side. TJ had his arms around him and was smiling in to his cheek, leaving a very fluttered Cyrus to be captured forever.
“Cyrus!” someone yelled out from downstairs. “We’re here.”
“Upstairs!” Cyrus yelled out, his voice slightly cracking. He hadn’t spoken since TJ left, and his throat hurt. He was glad he left the door unlocked for them because he didn’t have the energy to move.
Andi peaked her head through his bedroom door, frowning when she saw him, “Hi, Cyrus.”
“Hey,” Cyrus waved, “come in.” He hadn’t seen Andi in about three weeks was she was getting busy with her senior art project for SAVA. He loved her for being here during a busy time. Buffy trailed in behind Andi with two loaded grocery bags.
“We brought ice cream and pie,” Buffy held the bags up. “We stopped by your kitchen to get utensils.”
“Thank you because I was not going to move,” Cyrus said. Andi and Buffy sat down on each side of him and rested their heads on his shoulder.
“You can cry if you want,” Andi told him.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “we bought three tissue boxes.”
“I’ve been crying for like an hour, and I’m just tired of it at this point. But this is also probably just the start,” Cyrus mumbled. “How am I supposed to accept that someone I talked to everyday for five years is leaving my life?”
“I know it hurts, Cyrus,” Buffy whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’re going to get through this. Trust me. I’m always right.”
“I know you are,” Cyrus smiled slightly. “You know what sucks the most though?”
“What?” they asked in unison.
“We already have matching tuxedos from prom.” -
Cyrus and TJ showed up with new tuxedos to prom. Andi herself made Cyrus a brand new one. The according to different sources, both Cyrus and TJ had both begged Gus to cancel their Prom Court nomination. Gus thought it was funny until Buffy stepped in, and he got scared.
Cyrus and TJ didn’t sit together at lunch anymore or do homework together or visit the swing sets every Tuesday after TJ got out of tutoring. Cyrus submitted his paperwork to attend USC in the fall and according to Amber who was at Shadyside’s community college, TJ was going to go to MSU to play for their basketball team. Buffy and Marty would be seeing him at MSU seeing they got track scholarships.
Cyrus cried every night for the rest of the school year after finishing his homework because he worked to hard to have his GPA suffer over a boy who clearly didn’t care if he fell apart. He sometimes sat in the bathtub and let music fill his whole bathroom and no matter what, every single song would remind him of TJ. Of course, that was his fault for playing the playlists TJ had made him on Spotify. He wondered if he could see that he was listening to them. He hoped he did.
Cyrus didn’t have any communication with TJ since the last texts he sent him. It was a 2AM on a Saturday night, about three weeks since the breakup. He felt horrible and didn’t know how to stop crying. Even though Buffy had told him to call him whenever, he couldn’t keep dumping everything on her.
Cyrus: hey tj I hope im not waking u up idk if you still have your phone set so that u only get text alerts from me but I just wanted to say that I miss you.
Cyrus: I miss you so much tj idk what to do without you. Everything hurts all the time and I just want to talk to you and hear you voice even if we cant date anymore please talk to me. Please be my friend again tj we were best friends for 5 years we work so good together
Cyrus: I love you. I think that ill always be in love with you.
TJ: Goodnight Underdog.
Cyrus didn’t remember what time he went to sleep, but he felt like he cried for hours after that. The pain in his chest beat him up completely until he was too weak to flip his pillow to the dry side.
At their graduation, Cyrus gave a speech and then walked off stage to everyone in the auditorium clapping. It felt surreal. When he looked up smiling, out of all of the people he saw in the sea of graduates, he saw TJ clapping. He had his lip curled up in one corner which showed that he was on the verge of tears. That was the only time that night Cyrus wanted to cry.
-
A month into USC and without a doubt, Cyrus was homesick and probably depressed. He had made a great group of friends that were similar to him and super positive. He appreciated them, but 8 out of 10 times, they could never convince him to leave his room. He just stayed in and did homework and work on his script. It was about a man who gets his heart shattered and decided to move to Mars as part of a science experiment and when he’s already in space, he realize that his ex is one of the 100 people on board. Things quickly escalate. His friends loved the scripts and always asked to read updates, but he still sent snippets to Bex because he missed her.
It had been months since the breakup with TJ that happened late April. He should be over it now, he thought a lot of the time. But it still hurt. TJ really shot a hole in his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t cry everyday like he used to. But every other few weeks, he snuck into the bathroom to cry so his roommate wouldn’t see. It was embarrassing to admit.
Cyrus kept things in a rotation. Script, class, eat, homework, sometimes friends, and sleep. It was hard to stay happy and to enjoy himself. It was hard to feel like he was living through something when he’s been dead inside for months. With Halloween coming up, he felt even worse. He’s never not had anyone to match costumes with. For five years, him and TJ did a couple’s costume and before that, him, Buffy, and Andi always had something up their sleeves. He missed all of them.
Then one day, his roommate let one of his friends into their dorm room. His roommate was part of his friend group, so there was that. Cyrus was working on his infamous script and didn’t even get a text that he was coming. Usually, he said no, though. “Hey, Rich,” Cyrus said as he walked in.
“Hey, Cy,” he said. “I was in the building and wanted to drop by.”
“Why’d you text Karson and not me?” Cyrus asked.  
“You always say no.”
“True. Anyways, what’s up?”
“We need one more person for our Halloween costume. It’s Full House. We need an Uncle Jesse. You in?”
“Yeah,” Cyrus grinned, “of course.”
-
“Damn,” his friend Bogie said. “That TJ foo fucked you up bad, huh?” All eight of them were sitting around a bonfire before Thanksgiving break. It had been a long night of confessions and telling each other things not a lot of other people knew. Somehow in the moment, Cyrus spent thirty minutes telling them the becoming and downfall of him and TJ. Rich had convinced him to go to therapy on campus early November, and Cyrus wished he had gone sooner. It was getting so much easier to be around his friends and have open conversations.
“Yeah,” Cyrus admitted. “I cried everyday for months. I still cry sometimes.”
“Is that why you spend forever in the bathroom?” Karson asked him. Cyrus nodded.
“Damn, Cy,” Roxana mumbled, “no wonder you were so distant at the beginning of the school year. I thought you were just stuck up, but I guess I was wrong. I’m glad you trust us now, though.”
“Me, too,” Cyrus said.
“So, this TJ,” Bogie asked, “what’s he up to?”
“Besides knowing that he plays basketball for Midwest State U, I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since I last texted him after the breakup. I’m still good friends with his sister, but she never says anything.”
“Dang, so he’s a baller?” Bogie asked.
“Probably just getting fucked up at parties,” Mikhenna suggested. Cyrus didn’t respond. He just shrugged.
“Do you still love him?” Roxana asked him.
“I don’t think so,” Cyrus shook his head. “I’d be stupid to. But thanks for listening, guys. I feel a lot better. I feel like I belong and that I can finally move on.”
-
Cyrus didn’t see the point of flying all the way back home for a week long break, so he decided to stay behind in California and take a train to his aunt and uncle’s place. They had a daughter that thirteen and always had juicy middle school drama.
When he was laying down on the bed of the guest room, his phone started vibrating. Buffy was on Facetime, and he answered immediately saying, “Hey, Buff.”
“Hey, Cyrus,” Buffy grinned widely before switching the camera, “look who’s with me!”
Andi waved at the camera, “Hey, Cyrus!”
“Andi,” Cyrus grinned. “How are you? We haven’t talked in like four days.”
“I know right,” Andi laughed. “I’m fine. What about you?”
“I’m good, I’m good,” he said before registering completely that Andi was in Shadyside. “Wait,” he paused, “aren’t you supposed to be in Pennsylvania?”
“Yeah but a professor died, so they gave us two weeks off instead of three days and just postponed winter break.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I have no idea who he is,” Andi shrugged. “But where are you?”
“With my dad’s sister and her family. I’m just chilling and eating home made food before I go back,” Cyrus smiled. Andi moved over to sit next to Buffy and Cyrus noted that they were at the Mack’s place.
“So enough of that,” Buffy said and then looked at Andi who gave her a stern look. “Come on, let me tell him.”
“Well now you have to tell him,” Andi rolled his eyes.
“That’s very true,” Cyrus agreed.
“I know,” Buffy smirked. “That’s why I said that. Anyways,” she looked right at the camera, “we went to the mall with Amber in her car, but it broke down in the parking lot when we were leaving. She had to call TJ to come pick us up, which was already awkward enough because I always ignore him at school, but I was like whatever, it’s a twenty minute drive. Then in the car, literally, this man, I mean, boy, can ask any question. Any question in the world. Preferably, one directed at his sister, like you know, has your car been acting funky for a while? But he asks me and Andi, ‘How is Cyrus doing?’” Cyrus’ heart dropped. He hasn’t heard anything about TJ in so long he’s forgotten how to react.
“What did you say?” Cyrus asked nervously.
“I said that I charge $50 per fact,” Buffy said, “and he didn’t say anything else.”
“That’s weird,” Cyrus frowned. “I wonder why he doesn’t just ask Amber. I literally call her once a week, every Tuesday.”
“No idea,” Buffy said. “But maybe she just doesn’t answer him for the same reasons I didn’t.”
“Which are?”
“We love you.”
-
anyways follow my main @webarebares <3 thank you for reading! feel free to send asks if something was confusing or if a typo was horrible or just because. i luv u.
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realityhelixcreates · 4 years
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Lasabrjotr 45: Give and Take
Chapters: 45/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Makes A Nefarious Plan To Overcome Captain America By...Bettering Himself, Devious I Tell You, Devious Summary:  Loki gets a scolding for his privacy invasion, Reader gets a lesson in Asgardian Law, and Captain America gets to be in a calendar.  
Captain America posed in various states of undress for several months in each calendar, and each of those months you had simply covered in hearts. Cute little pink marker hearts, revealing an adoration he hadn't realized you had.
No, he'd had some idea of it, he simply hadn't allowed himself to accept it. He had deluded himself again, let himself believe that it was mere admiration for what the Captain stood for that you felt. But in the short discussion that you'd shared about him, you had spoken of him more highly, more positively than Loki had ever heard you speak about any other man, and you always seemed eager and excited for your little weekly check-ins.
Had you been flirting with him, during those secret meetings? Had he flirted back?
Loki's hands trembled. He could tear the calendar to bits right now, toss it in the fire, erase the whole thing. But what good would it do? Depriving you of these pictures would not remove your feelings. And your Tara would almost certainly ask if you had received everything she had sent.
Clever little wretch; he had the feeling that she'd had him dead to rights without even meeting him.
There was a little note within one of the hearts. “Doctor's appt today; 3:30” it said. And three days later, “No results.”
This was from eight months ago. You would have been deep within your mysterious illness, when you were still trying to figure out what was wrong. He flipped a few months earlier.
“Doctor's appt today; 12:00.”
“No results.”
“Doctor's appt today; 9:45”
“No results.”
“Doctor's appt today; 4:15”
“No results.”
“Still feeling sick. Set up Doctor's appt.”
“Sick today. Stayed home. Deduct from paycheck.”
“Felt sick today. Get medicine.”
“Something happened today.”
Any further back from that was merely noting when your payday was, or when you had a vacation planned, or when you were going to meet your father for dinner. “Something happened today”, was such a neutral, vague way to describe the moment your life had irreversibly changed. The day you took a god by the hand, and was bound to him, in body, and if the dreams were an indication, in soul perhaps as well.
“Something happened today”. Such a simple way to preface six months of suffering, a build up to your emancipation from an old life that did not suit you, to a new one where you would be adored and glorified.
“Something happened today.”
You'd been within murdering distance of a god who had killed perhaps hundreds of your kind, your hand burned, and you'd been banned from the tower, and that was how you had described it.
You really were something else.
He loved it.
But all these hearts, they was distressing. Every protest he could come up with for why Steve Rogers was entirely unsuitable for you was countered by his own existence.
Steve was technically an old man, old enough to be your grandfather, easily.
And Loki was old enough to have played tricks on your ancestors.
Captain America, as a member of the Avengers and a proclaimed hero, had many terrible enemies. He was not safe to be around.
Loki had enemies all across space. An immortal madman, an entire planet full of giants, whatever might still exist of the Svartalfari, many of the denizens of Earth, and even members of his own people. He was far more dangerous to be around.
The Captain had seen war. Horrors beyond reckoning. Death, and gore, and pain. Hopelessness and despair. He would be broken inside.
Loki could only wish to have gotten off as easily as he. If Steve Rogers was broken, Loki was shattered into dust. There was no reason you should chose Loki over him, with only those reasons to go by.
What about other reasons, though? What did the good Captain have that he did not? Strength? Power? Loki far outstripped him in both. Loki had bested him in battle once, but he doubted doing so again would impress you in any positive manner.
Was it nobility? Loki had him beat there too: he was true nobility, by birth and by upbringing. Steve Rogers had allegedly come from common, impoverished stock...just like you. Perhaps that had something to do with it, that shared origin.
Steve Rogers had probably never committed a crime against humanity, so that was something that he had on Loki. But he had killed other humans, and who knew how many? He was a soldier, he would know when it was and wasn't necessary. Maybe you felt the same. When the Captain did it, it was necessary. When Loki did it, it was flagrant and cruel.
They were weirdly similar in many ways. Perhaps it wasn't the deeds that mattered to you, so much as the reasons. The intentions.
How could he earn those hearts? Precious pink hearts to warm the winter month called November?
He glared at the picture. The hearts got wobbly partway through the month, before ceasing entirely. You must have been drawing them in with weak and trembling hands all the way up until you were forced to stop. Because Loki had kidnapped you.
There were even a few drawn on the photo itself, where Steve Rogers sat cross-legged on an American flag backdrop, barefoot and bare chested, a basket of puppies cradled in his thick, glistening arms.
Ugh.
Wait.
Was that it?
The softness? The vulnerability? The gentleness and care shown to creatures so much weaker? Knowing that he had power, but also knowing that he was safe to be with?
But Loki was already doing that for you. He was doing all of that. He wanted to do that. If those were the things you desired...he was already well on his way.
He could outdo Steve Rogers in everything. When the man showed up for his brother's silly party, he could observe, watch his ways, possibly even grill him for information; learn his flaws and weaknesses, and avoid being those things. Learn his strengths, his admirable qualities, and become better at them than him. In fact, if he could get on civil terms with the man, that might impress you even more, and he could gather even more information that way. The Captain was going to have to get used to him being here, just like all the rest of them, after all.
Meanwhile, he would show you every courtesy. If his power and prestige made you uncomfortable, he would have to show off his other qualities; the other things he could do that would impress you without frightening you. That must be the key!
You had shown him some of the things you valued, over these past few months. Innovation, frugality, compassion. Your love of animals and plants, your excitement over the possibility of being involved in conservation efforts, when he had held you by the sea, and become captivated by your lips for a brief moment.
Conservation and compassion...
He had an idea.
                                                                     *****
“So, what King Bor was saying in this speech is that he demanded the immediate abolishing of slavery on Asgard, not because it was wrong, but because he was afraid the Asgardians were becoming weak and complacent by having other people do all the work?”
“Got it in one.” Saga said. “And he wasn't exactly wrong either. Certain professions had become slave-dominated, whole industries without a single Asgardian hand involved.”
“That's pretty damn awful.” You said. “Why couldn't it have been because they were people?”
“Because the noble classes would have never accepted it.” Saga griped. “You ever tried to get a powerful person to willingly give up even a tiny fraction of their power? It happens on this world too, and it causes whole wars.”
“You're right.” You said, closing the folder and setting it on the table, next to a lead tablet stamped with pictographs so fine, they could only be seen under direct light. “There are people out there who treat all other life as change in their pockets. People so powerfully rich, it's almost impossible for someone like me to grasp.”
“You grasp the Prince.” One of the ladies cut in.
“I most certainly do not!” You protested.
“She means that you seem to understand him.” Saga said. “At least, she'd better mean that, or she will have interrupted both her work, and mine, and yours, for a snarky comment that doesn't do anything except waste time. Come on Lofn, you're better than that.”
“Not snark.” The other lady said. “Statement.”
You'd noticed that most of the other ladies stopped what they were doing when Lofn spoke, and looked at you. You weren't sure why it was so uncomfortable being the center of attention right now-possibly because they were all Aesir, or strangers, or because of their relation to Loki, or because he wasn't here, and you were alone in a very small room, with a bunch of women who were all better than you in every conceivable way...
And it wasn't like you could leave. You could spin your wheels well enough, but that heavy, wooden door would certainly provide an obstacle.
“I see you two. It is okay. I acknowledge.” Lofn said, a cryptic little smile curving her lips. The other ladies went back to their business, some of them also smiling.
“Lofn...” Saga groaned. “You are being Like That again.”
“I see what I see. If she does not, then give time.”
Saga huffed. “She's here to learn basic Asgardian law, not mystic hoodly-hoo.”
Lofn shrugged. “I leave hoodly to Loki, then.”
You opened your mouth to say something, when Andsvarr burst loudly into the room.
“I bring you lunch, my Seidkona! His Highness regrets that he could not deliver it himself, but some urgent business has demanded his attention. He got some of your favorites though.” He set the tray on the table in front of you with a flourish.
“Nope!” Saga proclaimed. “No food or drink in the conservatory! If it's lunchtime, then take it elsewhere, but it can't stay here!”
“Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize.” Andsvarr snatched the tray back up, looking around the small library, mystified. His gaze landed on a slab of stone in a sturdy, special case, its rough face scattered with faded, monochrome paintings of beasts and concepts you didn't recognize.
“Is...is that Ymir's Dreamscape?” He asked, awed. “You saved it?”
“The rest of the archivists and I smuggled out as much as we could.” Saga said sadly. “But we just couldn't get it all.”
“It looks as though you knew what was most important.” Andsvarr pointed at the stone.” That is the first known instance of art in the whole galaxy.” He told you. “It is almost eleven billion years old.”
You stopped breathing.
“Yeah, let's have lunch somewhere else.” You squeaked. The ladies tittered with amusement as Andsvarr handed you the tray and wheeled you out into the main library.
“Why did they even let me in there?” You gasped. “I'm just a huge humidity factory! I could have destroyed something!”
“Don't worry so much. Saga knows what she's doing.” Andsvarr assured you. “And those cases they are in are nearly indestructible. You could throw this chair at one, and it would bounce off.”
He brought you back to your room, pausing in the short hallway for a moment to comment that he thought Loki might be back from his emergency errand, then parked you in front of your desk and left to go check.
You briefly wondered what would happen if it wasn't Loki, but an intruder. Andsvarr would probably have to try and arrest them, or run them out, or even fight them. What was the protocol for that?
You set your tray of food on the desk, and dug in to the skyr, gazing out the window at the flowers outside. There was a fairly wide space around the complex that was untouched by construction. You didn't know if it would remain a native landscape, or if it was destined to be planted over as a garden, but it was lovely to look at right now.
Just as you were finishing your skyr, Loki entered your room after a light knock, carrying a large box.
“How are you feeling, darling?” He asked, sounding somewhat subdued. “Did Saga treat you well?”
“Oh yeah, she was really informative. I think one of the ladies was making fun of me though. I think her name was Lofn?”
Loki frowned. “Odd. That doesn't sound like her at all. I'll look into it.”
You probably shouldn't be snitching while Loki seemed like he was in a mood. What had gotten into him?
You knew something that might cheer him up a bit though. You placed the cup back on the tray.
“Maybe I just thought that because I'm so tired.” You said, feigning exhaustion. “There was so much to learn, and my head aches. I don't think I can walk right now. Can you help me?”
When you opened your eyes again to look at him, he was staring at you with a confused expression.
Oh right, he could tell when people were lying.
But he set the box down on your desk, and gently lifted you from your chair anyway, sitting with you on your bed and dutifully feeding you the rest of your meal. You knew he seemed to really enjoy being needed, and you couldn't deny the tiny electric feeling every time his fingers brushed your lips.
The tenderness of his actions and intensity of his gaze were hypnotic, and for a short time, you let yourself fall under the spell. Life had been far too eventful lately; and these slow, peaceful moments were gaining in value.
He spoke very little while feeding you, only to ask if you wanted more or not, reluctant to let the moment end. But your curiosity got the better of you eventually.
“What's with the box?” You asked.
“Oh, this is for you.” He said, whisking the food away, and plunking the box down on your lap. “It is from your friend, Tara.”
“And she sent it conveniently already opened, I see.” You said, a frost of sarcasm on your voice. Just a minute ago, you had been thrilled by the merest graze of his fingers; now, you were annoyed by how far he had been shoving his hands into your business.
“I had to check for possible dangers.” He said imperiously.
“From Tara? Come on, we've known each other since grade school.”
“Another school?” He asked. “There was no guarantee that it was truly her who sent it. And if she did, it could have been intercepted and tampered with.”
“And you don't call this tampering?” You gestured at the cut tape.
“There has already been an attempt on your life!” He exclaimed.
You crossed your arms with a huff. Sure, he was right about that, but he could have at least asked.
“Is everything still in there?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. “No.”
“Loki-”
“There were some foodstuffs, and I sent them to the healing wing to get them checked for poison. If they prove safe, I'll give them back.”
“This is ridiculous!” You snapped.
“Your safety is paramount.” He cupped the side of your head, light as a ghost. “Look at what my negligence has already wrought.”
You knew you shouldn't give up on being angry so easily, and a little knot of resentment did still remain, but his point did dampen your irritation. Of course he felt guilty about all of this.
“Look that's touching and all,” You said placing your hand over his. He froze in place. “But you understand that, if you keep treating me like a prisoner or a criminal, we aren't really going to be able to gel like we should. If I'm gonna be a...magic politician, or advisor or whatever, I mean. You understand, right?”
“I...” He faltered, appearing to debate himself for a moment. Did anybody else ever see him like this? It was so different from the way people described him: not cagey, not guarded, not in perfect control.
“It's more than that.” He finally said. “It's more than just the social importance of your position, and it's more than the responsibility I feel towards you as a ward of the state, and it's far more than just owing you for all the upheaval I have caused in your life. I just...I genuinely do not wish to see you hurt, and it is frightening to realize how easy it is to hurt you. To realize that you are in more danger than I initially thought and that I might not be enough to protect you.”
“And I get that.” You said, stroking his hand. He remained frozen, but shivered just a bit. Poor guy must be really eaten up about your injury. “Things have been more...adventurous for me than they have been for my whole life, and none of it has been a walk in the park for me either. But I can tell you right now, trying to protect me from everything will not work. There will always be something that can break through your defenses, no matter how good they are.
Even before we met, it wasn't like I was completely safe all the time, you know? I mean, there were genocidal aliens that threw my whole universe into turmoil. And even without that, without any extraterrestrial interference, there was still a level of...I guess you could call it normal danger? Like, there was always a possibility I would get into a car accident, or fall down wrong, or catch a deadly disease, or be bitten by a snake, or accidentally poisoned, or electrocuted, or-”
Loki was looking exceptionally pale.
“-Well, you get the picture. There's a million ways a person can get hurt, and there's no real way to prevent all of it without pretty much killing me. Like, locking me away might protect my body, but it would kill my spirit. So there's a level of protection that's fine, and probably a good idea, but if you go overboard, you can easily cause more harm than good.”
“I see...” He said anxiously. “Perhaps it would ease you ire to go through your things?”
He seemed reluctant to remove his hand, but you couldn't reach the box with his arm in the way so you pushed his hand away, a little reluctant yourself.
“Now, there is this strange plush creature...”He lifted it from the box.
“Oh, that's my Bulbasaur!” You cried in delight, snatching it from his hands and cradling it in your arms. “What? Yeah, I know it's silly, but I've had this little guy since I was a kid, and he's the perfect size for cuddling.”
“Is...Is that supposed to be a real animal?” He asked in confusion. “Is that something that could actually be encountered?”
“Oh, no way. This is a fantasy animal. It's too bad; I'd love a real Bulbasaur.”
“And this blanket...”
“Nanna Beth made that! I need to send Tara a present after this. Okay that should probably go over the chair, so I can wrap up in it when I'm working, or something.”
Loki draped the blanket over the back of your desk chair; its familiar pattern bringing a real taste of home to the room.
He proudly presented you with the clothes and cheap jewels Tara had sent, placing them in the dresser, and promising to have a jewelry box brought for you. Your books went on your desk, and the music USB went straight into your phone. Then there were all your papers; important identifications, milestones, memories. You had to explain to Loki what high school was, which brought up concerns about Asgardian public education. It existed and was supposedly top quality, but the population of children was currently very low, and most were in apprenticeship right now, while the schools were under construction.
You briefly brought up the idea of adoption, but it made Loki very twitchy. You dropped the subject and he went back to presenting you with your things.
Phil 2 absolutely thrilled you. Such a healthy leaf meant that Original Phil was being well taken care of.
“I'm gonna need a huge pot for this!” You gushed in excitement. “This thing is gonna get really big! Tall as me, easily!”
At the bottom of the box were your calendars. It gave you a good laugh to see them, and Loki's grumbled response just added to your amusement. He desperately tried to prevent you from looking in the new one, and you eventually agreed not to...until he had left. He hung this years calendar up on the wall, flipping to the current month-Banner, in an open lab coat and possibly nothing else-grumbling even more.
“He's not even that handsome!” He huffed.
“He's got a big brain, sometimes that's enough.”
“For a pin-up calendar? Isn't that all about looks?”
You shrugged. “Heroism is sexy.”
Loki harrumphed, cheeks reddening. Considering all the media speculation about him, it was rather unexpected and actually quite endearing to find out how shy and easily scandalized he could be.
Eventually he sat back down next to you.
“Buridag will be in a few months. There will be city-wide celebrations, and we will be building a courthouse, everyone participating, as per your suggestion. We will be allowing the camps into the city, so they might participate as well.”
“Oh wow! That'll be so exciting! I hope I can see Sofie again.”
“You might. This will also be when we will formally announce your appointment to Royal Seidkona. It's important for you to be aware that this will make you royalty yourself.”
“What?”
“It's a formal title. You won't be a princess or anything like that, but you need an elevated title to be able to properly perform your duties. The Buridag festival will double as a formal titling ceremony. Now, I do not expect anyone to take a shot at you in public like that, but just in case, I am having armor altered to fit you. Hold on.”
He hustled out of your room and back with a handful of papers.
“This is what Andsvarr has donated.” He showed you a drawing. “They will fit you well with a little work, and should protect you from most dangers. And this is something I have designed for your head.”
He handed you another drawing. You'd had no idea before this that he could draw at all.
“Loki...Is this a flower crown?”
“Yes. I thought it appropriate, since you seem to like plants. But this will be nornbein and steel, rather than petals and leaves.”
It was a beautiful design. Loki had incorporated several different kinds of blossoms, their petals spread wide to cover as much of your head as possible, the golden nornbein and silvery steel contrasting to give the flowers color. The skullcap and cheek guards were patterned like ferns, and he couldn't help but to add a few jewels here and there, probably very hard and durable ones.
Loki was going to make you into royalty, and he was going to give you a crown.
Wasn't that a dream come true? Why was it so frightening?
“I really don't deserve-”You began, but he cut you off by placing his hand to your cheek again, and leaning in close.
“Please, won't you let me be the judge of that?” He asked softly. “Trust that I know to whom I wish to distribute my gifts and favors.”
“O-okay.” You whispered.
He leaned away, and begin describing a Seidkona's duties to you again, going over things you'd already heard. All you could think about was that, for a moment, it almost seemed again like he was going to kiss you.
For a moment, you were disappointed that he didn't.
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she-is-tim · 5 years
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I love hating you | Elu enemies to lovers AU | Ch.10
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Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6.5, 7, 8, 9
Lucas is an angry, closeted and frustrated gay teenager, while Eliott is the handsome, smart and popular guy in school. They hate each other… but not forever.
It’s not your fault, it’s mine
Lucas started to get sick of all the teasing he got after that terrible party. Yes, he got totally wasted and yes, he totally embarrassed himself, but at least he remembered basically nothing of it. He didn’t needed others to tell him or remind him of what stupid stuff he had done that night. Thank god Eliott was avoiding the topic most of the time. First Lucas got worried that he crossed a boundary he shouldn’t have that night, but his boyfriend seemed to act normal with him. He was soft, touchy and flirty. 
They were a couple for almost two weeks now, things seemed to go really well for them. Sometimes they were together for a whole day, kissing and cuddling in bed, sometimes they were out in the park with the boys. It was wonderful, something Lucas had never experienced before. Sadly during the first week of spring break, Lucille decided to come back, she wanted to spend more time with her brother, which was understandable since Eliott had a bad depression not long ago. Still now they had no place to go for privacy, since Lucas only had a pull-out couch in the flatshare and Lucille stayed at Eliott’s place of course. 
It was a nice and sunny tuesday afternoon in the park. Lucille just arrived this morning, so the boys haven’t seen each other all day, they had to catch up on the missed out time. They weren’t alone though, both the boys and girls were there, chilling on blankets, listening to music and eating the sandwiches Manon made for everyone. Lucas and Eliott was a bit further, leaning to a tree, the short boy sitting between his boyfriend’s legs, back resting on his warm chest. His fingers were tracing on the veins that were showing through Eliott’s arms that were wrapped around him. It was a nice and pure moment. 
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Lucas rolled his eyes when he saw what Yann posted. He was so busy studying his boyfriend’s beautiful hands, that he didn’t notice him taking a picture of them. Eliott on the other hand was really happy and already asked Yann to send him the picture in private.
“What do you want with it?” Lucas asked, slightly looking up at the tall boy, still laying in his arms.
“I wanna save these pictures for the future, maybe even print them at some point.” he answered with a happy smile. “Imagine a whole wall full of photos of us.” 
“A whole fucking wall?” Lucas raised his eyebrows. 
“Of course.” Eliott smirked and kissed his forehead. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
“A few framed pictures on the piano and the wall is more than enough for me.” he chuckled and pressed his lips on Eliott’s hand softly. “I like your drawings on the wall more.” 
“You are way too perfect for me.” Eliott mumbled, burying his face into Lucas’ fluffy hair, sniffing it a little. “You really like my drawings?” 
“If I had a room, I’d put your drawings all over the walls.” he said honestly, rubbing Eliott’s hand with his thumb. “They are amazing.”
“You are amazing.” he chuckled, squeezing him softly. “You wanna do something this weekend?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“Of course, but no parties.” he frowned which made his boyfriend giggle. 
“We can both agree on that we won’t go to parties in the near future.” he said softly, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. “I was thinking of something chill.”
“Like what? We can’t hang out at your place and everyone will be home at the flatshare too.” he said a bit worried. It was so annoying that they had no privacy during the spring break. 
“I’ll figure it out.” he promised and gave a soft kiss on the boy’s hair. “I wanna spoil your sweet butt.” he added that made Lucas laugh.
“I accept that, anytime.” 
Lucas first met Lucille at a coffee shop, on Thursday noon. He was really nervous since Eliott told him through text that his sister wanted to meet him. He barely could sleep and spent the whole morning going through his clothes and trying to decide which would fit best to meet your boyfriend’s sister. He basically drove Mika crazy yet once again, until Manon, god bless her soul, interrupted them and told Lucas to wear his grey long sleeve shirt with black jeans and his navy blue hoodie. The boy kissed her on the cheek before he put on those clothings and left. 
Eliott gave him a place and time to meet, but he haven’t texted since then. He actually really missed his boyfriend, even if they spent most days together, it was a real torture to be apart. But he was also really nervous, trying not to bite his nails off while waiting in front of the coffee shop. It was a nice and cozy place, he had been here only once, when he had a morning date with Eliott before classes last week. 
He had been there for only like ten minutes or so, when he saw them crossing the street. Even if he stopped walking around, his feet kept bumping on the ground and his hands were shaking, so he hid it behind his back. Both of them were tall, their hair had the same color and their face was wildly similar to one another. The most obvious difference was that the girl walked like a model, head held up, back straight, flawless moves with confidence, while Eliott had his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, back hunched slightly, movements a little clumsy. Lucas still felt like his boyfriend was the most perfect and gorgeous human being on the earth. 
 “Hey, you look great.” Eliott said with a happy smile when they were close enough to Lucas, kissing him on the cheek, not on the lips. Noted. 
Hey, thanks.” he said softly and looked at Lucille now. She had a smile plastered to her face, but her eyes were screaming murder. The boy swallowed and held his hand out, hoping that it won’t be sweaty. “Hey, I’m Lucas, nice to meet you.”
“Lucille Demaury.” she said on a calm tone and grabbed his hand, shaking it just for a few seconds and pulling back. Eliott seemed to be happy.
“Okay, let’s go inside.” he said, grabbing both of their hands and walking into the coffee shop. They sat down into a nice booth, the siblings on one side and Lucas on the other side. He was really nervous that he couldn’t hold Eliott’s hand under the table at least, but this was an important part for their relationship to keep going. 
Eliott decided to get themselves coffee and some bakery, so he got up and walked away, leaving his boyfriend alone with his very angry looking sister. They were sitting in awkward silence for probably a whole minute, before Lucille decided to speak finally. 
“Listen, I don’t know how much Eliott told you about himself, but I won’t let anyone ever hurt him again.” she said seriously and Lucas had to swallow his nervousness to defend himself and his feelings for Eliott.
“He told me a lot of things, because he trusts me.” the boy started to speak with shocking confidence. “I know about his illness, I know about Sophie... He trusts me because he knows I trust him too.” he said seriously, looking into the girls eyes. Lucille accepted his challenge, staring right into his soul.
“Don’t be so cocky just because he shared some stories with you.” she said bitterly. “He is much more complex than that.”
“And I don’t care.” Lucas said a bit louder than he should be, so he took a deep breath. Lucille closed her mouth, deciding not to say anything to this and crossed her arms in anticipation. “Eliott is the person I care for the most, i told him things I never told anyone, I have feelings for him that I never ever experienced in my life and not you or anyone else can take this away from me now. If I have to fight for him, then so be it.” he said, determined look on his face. He could saw the ghost of a smile on the girl’s face before Eliott came back with two espressos and one latte for Lucas, also carrying croissants and some cinnamon rolls. 
“Sorry it took so long, but there was a few people in front of me.” he said and hopped down next to his sister with a bright smile on his face.
“Don’t worry, we had a nice conversation here with Lucas.” Lucille said, surprising the boy with an actual smile. “Right?”
“Y-yeah.” Lucas nodded quickly, adding sugar to his latte and sipping it slowly. 
“What were you talking about?” Eliott asked excitedly, he was happy that his sister was acting normal.
“Nothing special just yet. I was about to ask Lucas if he has any hobbies.” Lucille said on a soft tone and the short boy couldn’t decide it if it was real or fake. 
“Not much, actually.” Lucas shrugged. “I play piano, but other than that I have no special talents, like Eliott.” he said, flashing a soft smile at his boyfriend.
“Piano? Really?” Lucille raised her perfectly curving eyebrows.
“He is really good.” Eliott said proudly. “He even played some on the piano in my apartment.” 
“I needed to fix it a little, but otherwise he’s got a very nice instrument.” Lucas said honestly. “It’s a pleasure to play for him.”
“And he is an S student.” Eliott added with a wide smile, which made Lucas just a little bit embarrassed.
“It’s not a big deal, I’m better with numbers than with words.” the boy shrugged, trying to look cool about it, but he was watching Lucille to see her reaction.
“It’s interesting how you guys have nothing in common. I mean Eliott is an artist, has a really bad taste in music...”
“Okay, cut it off, Lucille.” Eliott said suddenly with clear irritation in his voice, turning his head at his sister. “What are you trying to say with all this?” he asked seriously. Lucille crossed her arms yet again and looked at him too, eyes narrowed. Lucas was fidgeting a little, hoping that they are not gonna fight because of him. 
“I’m saying that I don’t think this can work well.” she said it out now, being completely honest. “I won’t let you get your heart broken again.” 
“Oh, shut up! I was 15, when Sophie left me! I learned from it, and what I have with Lucas is nothing like that. This is so much more and I know he feels the same way.” he said seriously and the boy was really concerned now that they talked about him like he wasn’t even there. 
“I’m not saying this isn’t real, but you are volunerable...”
“Don’t talk like that about him.” Lucas started suddenly, surprising the siblings and also getting both of their attention. “Eliott is not more volunerable than anyone else. Yes, he is probably more sensitive, but he is just a human being like you or me.” he said seriously, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I am with him, because I know who he is and he also knows who I am. We doesn’t need anything else.”
Both of them were speechless after this, so Lucas tried to read the expressions on their faces. Eliott was just proud and happy, he had that beautiful smile and sparkles in his eyes. On the contrary, Lucille seemed impressed, a soft smile appearing on her face. She took a deep breath, drinking her coffee slowly before talking again.
“Okay, I kinda like him.” she said, glancing at Lucas over the edge of her coffee cup. The boy felt his cheeks turning red and he looked at his hands on his lap, fidgeting a little.
“Thanks.” he mumbled.
The rest of the day went on pretty well. Drinking coffee, eating baked goods, talking about casual stuff. Lucas told her about his parents spliting up, just slightly mentioning his mother’s problems, not really wanting to get into the topic too deep. Lucille asked about school, told some childhood stories about Eliott just to embarrass her brother. They laughed and had fun. 
When it got late, Eliott and Lucas said goodbye to each other. Some soft kisses, whispered words, then the older boy left with his sister, while Lucas also headed home, feeling much better now. As much as he was afraid of meeting Lucille, things went on quite well. They even exchanged numbers, while Eliott went to the bathroom, so they can get in touch if anything happens. Always prepared for the worst. 
After that both of the boys were busy, Eliott spending time with his sister and Lucas finally visiting his mother again. Sadly she wasn’t in the right condition just yet, so he decided to leave the boyfriend talk for another time. But he still enjoyed talking to her, even if she was mumbling bible verses randomly in the middle of the conversation. They had dinner together and walked in the park too, watching people passing by. 
When the evening came, Lucas was extremely tired, just wanting to eat and sleep. He made himself a cheese toast, since he barely had anything in the fridge or the cabinet and it looked like Manon hadn’t cooked. He sat down on the couch, watching some boring tv show, while munching on his sandwich. He got a little startled when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. It took him a few seconds to get it out without getting it dirty and he checked his messages. His heart started to flip-flop in his chest when he saw that Eliott texted him.
srodulv I have a surprise for you on saturday
lucallemant What kind of surprise? 
srodulv You’ll see It’s gonna be romantic
lucallemant I can’t wait I miss you so much
srodulv I miss you too
lucallemant Saturday when?
srodulv 17h30, I’ll go and pick you up at the flat Be your pretty self like always, no need for fancy clothing, okay? 
lucallemant Okay, I am really excited now Tell me where are we going!
srodulv That would ruin the surprise Be patient
lucallemant Fiiiine
srodulv ;)
On saturday Eliott arrived in time, welcoming his boyfriend with a long, passionate kiss. They were doing that for a few minutes, but then they had to break apart. The tall one walked to the road with Lucas, getting into a taxi with him. The short boy was concerned now, since they usually took bus or metro if they had to go somewhere. When he asked Eliott about it, he said that tonight is special, so he let it slide. He seemed to be more happy and touchy than usual, keeping his hands on his boyfriends thigh as they were in the taxi. They shared a few kisses, not being too affectionate in case the driver isn’t a tolerant person, but he said nothing. When they stopped at a fancy hotel, the boys got out and Eliott paid for the ride.
Lucas was too busy looking at the gigantic building in front of him. It looked wonderful, the entrance was huge, people walking in and out like ants. His boyfriend hugged him from behind, kissing his cheek softly. 
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“This was your surprise?” he looked at him still in awe. 
“Yes, we needed a place to be alone and this is perfect.” he said softly and kissed his boyfriend’s neck softly. “We can do so many things tonight...” he whispered into his ear which made the short boy shiver.
“Eliott...”
His mouth were quickly covered with the tall boy’s lips, pulling him into a long, passionate kiss right there in the middle of the street. Lucas wrapped his arms around Eliott’s neck, melting into his hold happily, enjoying the kiss, until his boyfriend pulled back and walked into the hotel with him. They were both giggling and smiling on the way up to their room. When they had the chance to be alone in the elevator, it was impossible for them to not makeout. 
The room was huge, with a big bed in it. Lucas could see the Eiffel Tower from the balcony, which was just breathtaking. He hugged Eliott happily, kissing him wildly. It was so incredible that he was standing in a fancy hotel, in a probably really expensive suite with a person he loved more than anything. He wanted to say it so badly. I love you. It’s a simple thing, but he felt like it’s not the time for it just yet. 
They sat down to a nice table that had candles and a boquet of flowers on it. Eliott opened a bottle of champagne, pouring some into glasses, giving one to his sweet boy. Lucas smiled happily, he never experienced such a romantic moment before in his life, so he wanted to save this moment in his memory forever. There were some cheese, ham, crisps, olives and tomato slices on plates in front of them.
“This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” Lucas said softly, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand that was resting on the table, intertwining their fingers. Eliott smiled at him softly.
“All I wanted is to make you happy and feel special. Because you are.” he said honestly, bringing their hands up to his face, kissing Lucas’ fingers. The boy blushed a little.
“I feel special for sure.” he mumbled and took a sip of his drink. “This is a really good champage.”
“Right? I chose it myself.” the tall boy said proudly, drinking some from his own glass. 
“Perfect choice indeed.” he chuckled and now grabbed a piece of camembert, placing in his mouth and enjoying the taste of the creamy cheese. He didn’t even notice that he was making inappropriate sounds until he looked at Eliott, who seemed to be really turned on by it. His face suddenly felt really hot. 
“Does that camembert taste so good?” he asked, eyes looking darker, focusing on the short boy’s mouth now. Lucas couldn’t help, but swallow and run his tongue over his bottom lip.
“You wanna taste it?” he asked, grabbing another piece and he opened his mouth, slightly sticking his tongue out to place the cheese on it. 
Eliott took a deep breath, predator smile appearing on his face as he leant forward, taking Lucas’ tongue between his lips, sucking off the camembert and then leaning back, chewing on it. The boy was speechless, just staring at his stunning boyfriend with a lovestruck gaze. Then it was Eliott’s turn, he placed a piece of ham on his tongue, waiting for his boyfriend to take it. Lucas never thought that a small piece of meat can be so intimidating, but his mouth started to water up. He swallowed before getting up from his chair, leaning forward. He parted his lips, taking Eliott’s tongue between them, sucking off the ham slowly, while they stared at each other intensely. 
Lucas slowly, really slowly pulled back, settling on his chair, feeling just a little bit uncomfortable in his pants. He swallowed the ham, eyes still locked with Eliott’s, who decided to lick his lips and shine him the most seducing smile he had ever seen. He decided to drink from his champagne now, trying to hide his blush, but then his boyfriend pulled out a joint from the pocket of his shirt, lighting it. He smirked as he took a drag from it, blowing out a cloud of smoke
“Fuck...” that was all that left Lucas’ mouth, but it was enough to make the tall boy look satisfied, raising his eyebrows to challenge him while inhaling more smoke.
Lucas decided to end this game right now, so he got up from his chair, walking to Eliott’s side and gently pushing away the table so he could sit down on his lap. The tall boy smirked, still keeping in the smoke until Lucas leant closer, their mouth just an inch away, lips parting. Eliott placed his hand on the back of the boy’s neck and blew the smoke into his mouth. When he was done, he leant his forehead on Lucas’ and sighed. The short one slowly exhaled, letting their faces be covered by the smoke for a few seconds.
It didn’t take long for them to end up in bed, clothes lying on the floor everywhere. Their kisses were wild, their touches were demanding, their voices were full of passion and need. Hands running up and down on sweaty skin. Moanings filling up the silence of the room, alongside some naughty noises their bodies made as they got more and more intimate. Eliott was extra careful knowing that this was Lucas’ first time, he wanted it to be special and painless. He did everything to make his boy relaxed, preparing him until he was basically begging for him to put it in. 
When they connected both physically and emotionally, Lucas felt like he’s seeing the stars. Waves of emotions were running through his body, making him shiver. This was the most intimate and sensual moment he ever experienced in his life. He only felt pain for a short amount of time, but then all was gone and the only thing he felt was pure pleasure. Their kisses were sloppy, sometimes teeth bumping into teeth, nails scratching soft skin. 
Lucas was laying in bed, the blanket only covering the lower half of his body, smiling like an idiot. Eliott was sitting not far from him, the other end of their blanket wrapped around his waist as he was drinking champagne staight from the bottle. He seems really happy, smile basically glued to his face.
“I really love this place.” he mumbled, looking at his boyfriend fondly. “I wish we could afford this more often.” 
“We can, we just gotta rob a bank.” Eliott said, smirking wildly. “Actually I can make the plan for that. You can be the distraction while I sneak in and get all the money we need.” he continued, which made Lucas a bit confused. 
“What are you talking about?” he tilted his head. 
“We could wear masks, I can be a raccoon and you could be a cute hedgehog.” he continued, ignoring the boy’s question. “Wouldn’t that be great?” he asked smirking. “Then we would be running away with the money and get married somewhere far from here.” he giggled and took a gulp from the champagne.
“We’re getting married?” he asked now, trying not to focus on the weird stuff.
“Of course.” Eliott answered quickly now. “I’m sure there are many Lucas and Eliott that are already married in parallel universes.” he smirked and laid down next to Lucas, rubbing his nose on his cheek. “Right?”
“Yeah, I’m sure there are a lot.” he said smiling now.
“Fuck...” Eliott mumbled, taking a bigger sip from the bottle, it was almost empty. “We should die tonight then.” he mumbled, looking at the ceiling for a moment and then back at Lucas with a smile. “While we’re at our peak.” he added. Now Lucas felt a little uneasy, pulling back to look down at the boy laying next to him.
“Why are you saying that?” he asked worried, but Eliott flashed him a soft smile, putting the bottle down, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his nose into his neck.
“I’m kidding.” he said giggling. “I’m kidding.” he repeated when he saw that Lucas is still not smiling and planted a kiss on his neck.
It got late, the sun was setting outside when Lucas woke up. He was alone in the bed, so he turned around, still half asleep. He felt better when he saw that Eliott was sitting by the bed, staring at him. His sleepy mind couldn’t really focus on the weirdness of the situation, he just loved to be around this beautiful person, so he rubbed his eyes a little and smiled at him. 
“Don’t you wanna sleep?” he mumbled, Eliott let a weak smile appear on his face.
“I can’t sleep when there’s such a hot guy in the bed with me.” he said on a soft tone, which made Lucas smile. 
He was too tired to continue this, so he just closed his eyes and let the sleep take over him for now. Next time he woke up, he heard noises coming not far from him. He slowly opened his eyes to see Eliott roaming in the room naked, like a headless chicken. When he noticed that his boyfriend woke up, he ran to him, giving him a sloppy, wet kiss, then he headed to the door. 
“Where are you going?” Lucas asked, not entirely sure if this was reality or just a crazy dream. 
“I’ll go and get something to drink. I’m so thirsty.” he said, opening the door. “Go back to sleep.” he said softly and walked out, still naked.
The upcoming minute was like an eternity until Lucas’ brain realized what was happening. He jumped out of bed in a second and wrapped the blanket around himself, running to the door. He looked out to the hallway, calling for his boyfriend, but he was already gone. He tried not to panic, to remember the things he read on the internet. 
After he put on some clothes, he grabbed Eliott’s and left the room, shoving the key into the backpocket of his jeans. He left the building and looked around for the boy, while he also called the police. It was almost midnight, not too cold, but it wasn’t a good time to run around on the streets, and his fear of Eliott getting hurt just grew bigger. When he explained the situation to the tired officer on the other side of the line, he was hesitating. Tears were running down his cheeks, panic starting to take over his brain. He needed someone to help him handle this situation, so he decided to call Lucille.
“What happened?” was the first thing she asked when she picket up the phone, her voice still sounding sleepy.
“We were in a hotel... he is naked... He ran away, he said he wanted to get something to drink.” he sobbed, holding Eliott’s clothes tightly in his arms. “I already called the police... but I don’t know where he went.” he mumbled, trying to calm himself down, but his mind didn’t stop showing him horrible pictures of his boyfriend being beaten up because he’s naked or getting hit by a car. He shook his head and sighed.
“Okay, it was a good move calling the police.” she said, trying to sound calm, but she was just as upset as the boy. “Send me the address of the hotel, I’ll be right there.” 
“I will.” he mumbled, still looking around on the streets, like he was hoping that Eliott will come back to him on his own. After he sent the message he slid his phone back to his jean pocket now, waiting for Lucille.
When he snapped back to reality, he knew something bad happened. He was sitting on a steel chair, wrapped in a blanket, but he wasn’t wearing anything under. His body felt cold, but sweaty at the same time, it was disgusting. Eliott wanted to just rip off his skin and threw it away. His last memory was Lucas, sleeping in bed next to him like an angel he is. He was playing with his hair... then full cut. His mind went blank and now he was here, what looked like a police station, sitting by a desk in a small office. No one else was with him, but he heard voices from the hallway through the door. He could see shadows out there through the blurry window. His stomach twisted and he had to slap his hand over his mouth to hold back a gag. His whole body was shivering, his feet hurt, but not more than his heart when he noticed a familiar voice. A third shadow appeared in front of the door, smaller than the other two with long, crazy hair. He felt like he can’t breathe, putting a hand over his chest, looking around when he noticed a paper bag that probably had some baked goods in it not long ago. He grabbed it, letting the blanket slip off of his shoulders in the process. He lifted to his mouth and started inhaling and exhaling into the bag, slowly normalizing his breathing. 
He startled when someone opened the door, peeking inside. He was scared just for a second, then he noticed it was Lucille. She looked exhausted, like she haven’t slept all night. Eliott wanted to know what was the time, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. A soft smile appeared on the girl’s face when she noticed that her brother was conscious again. There was an angry voice talking to her from outside, so she lookd back and answered quietly, so Eliott can’t hear them. She then turned back, squinting her eyes a little. 
“You don’t have to speak now.” she started softly. “Lucas wants to see you, do you want him to come in?” she asked carefully, studying the expressions on the boy’s face. Eliott felt a strong shiver going through his body and he really wanted to get rid of his skin now. He pulled back the blanket over him and shook his head quickly. He can’t let him to see him in a ondition like this. It was already embarrassing and terrifying enough that all this happened in the presence of his boyfriend. Lucas must be scared and he can’t blame him. This is not what he deserves. He deserves a boyfriend who won’t snap in the middle of the night, leaving naked and then end up in a police station. 
He felt streaks of warm tears going down on his cheeks, his chest kept hurting, making it hard to breathe. Lucille already pulled her head back, closing the door behind her. The loud argument from outside were getting on his nerves, making him feel even more bad. Lucas’ voice sounded worried and scared from what he could here, cracking sometimes when he was sobbing. Eliott could feel his heart breaking into millions of pieces. He did this, Lucas, his soft and caring boy was crying and yelling because of him, because of what he was. He deserved better, someone who is not crazy, like Eliott. 
After long agonizing moments that seemed like hours Lucille entered the room with an officer. He looked nice, smiling softly at Eliott, handing some papers and clothes to his sister before leaving them alone. He looked up, seeing the redness now in Lucille’s eyes which just made his guilt dig deeper inside him, eating up everything. She had a small smile on her face, but it was just her lips, her eyes were filled with worries.
“How are you?” she asked softly, holding the paper and clothes to her chest. 
“I feel like shit.” Eliott responded, voice slightly hoarse. 
“You wanna get dressed?” she glanced at the stuff in her hands and then back at her brother. Eliott slowly nodded and took the clothes from her now. 
It was hard to get up, letting the blanket fall back on the little chair he was sitting on. Lucille turned around, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable in the situation and he was really glad for the gesture. After long minutes of struggling, Eliott was standing there wearing black socks, dakr blue sweatpants, a grey shirt and a black hoodie. He had no idea where these came from, but almost everything was his size. When he got ready, he softly touched Lucille’s arm, not wanting to talk. She nodded, wrapping her arm around Eliott’s waist, walking out of the office with him.
Lucas was back at the apartment, walking up and down in the living room, grabbing his hair, pulling it just a little to keep himself awake. He was up since midnight and it was already nine in the morning. Mika and Manon were in the kitchen, drinking coffee and tea. They didn’t ask anything, seeing that the boy was too upset to talk to them and he was really glad for their understanding, because he was sure that all he could do at the moment is scream at the first person that talks to him. 
He already texted Sofiane, Idriss and Lucille multiple times, but got no response. On the station the girl told Lucas that Eliott didn’t wanted to see him, it broke his heart and he was arguing with her for almost ten minutes, but then he decided to leave. Since then he regretted his choice multiple times. He shouldn’t leave his boyfriend in times like this, he must feel that Lucas abandoned him. He was scared and worried about him, not knowing what to do with himself. 
He jumped when he heard the buzzing of his phone from the direction of the coffee table. He had put it there earlier to stop himself from texting to everyone that could give him information on Eliott. He grabbed it faster than lightning, unlocking it to see who texted him. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that it was in fact an SMS from Eliott himself.
From Eliott I think we should stop seeing each other for a while. I am sorry that I scared you, but I need time to recover and being around you wouldn’t help with that. I hope you understand. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.
In that exact moment Lucas’ heart broke into pieces.
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roswellroamer · 4 years
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Day 7. February 5, 2020. Owaka day rides. 245km.
Yeah, the sun has returned! In a similar fashion as to when you get sick, then when good health returns you seem to be much more grateful than before your illness... Today's sunshine was greeted with a warm smile of appreciation. The chickens (no rooster to wake you up early 👍) and the sheep kept right across from my apartment by the innkeeper looked especially bright and picturesque owing to the morning sunshine. We slated two nights in Owaka amidst the scenic south Otago and Southland coastline so that today we could explore every bay, cliff and waterfall along a 100km stretch and that's exactly what we did! We aimed for the well known Purakaunui Falls around 8AM. A ten minute walk took us through tropical looking forest with huge trees and ferns along the swollen stream bed. The massive bolus of rainfall had swelled these falls to probably 10 times their normal volume. Picture is below. 👇 We then had sights on a cafe in Papatowai but since nothing was open (before 10) we looped down to the beach and then aimed for the coast. We veered off the pavement as we wound down Tahakopa Beach road to find our first good look toward the Southern Ocean. Many don't count the waters north of 60°S as the Southern Ocean but we are at the limits of the Southern Pacific @ >46°S latitude and nothing between here and Antarctica. The South Island sports many rugged cliffs to the water with interesting rock formations trying to hold back the light blue waves. On our first foray to the south coast, we were met by a herd of cattle all looking curiously at us. Four of them abreast all with different coloring were an attention getter. A private resort and a farm fence forced a retreat before making it all the way to a bay or overlook but we had the rest of the day ahead of us. We then wound along gravel and dirt on Puaho road maybe 15kms back to the paved road. Next stop was the Florence Hill lookout. Here there was a Spouting Cave on an offshore island noted by a sign and visible as the waves crashed on one side and were channeled out a blow hole. There was also a mesmerizing view of the waves rolling in a long bay to meet a curved, pristine beach. Wow. It was breakfast time and rode to the Whistling Frog cafe/campground another 12 clicks down the windy road. More then one time it was said how beautiful the road/scenery was. Had a tasty hot chocolate garnished with a chocolate covered fish-shaped marshmallow cookie. 😋 Also enjoyed bacon and eggs on an English muffin and hash browns. Couldn't resist a raspberry white chocolate muffin also. Each item came garnished with a colorful, small edible flower for a fancy flair. We met up with our motel neighbors spending 7 weeks riding around NZ on their beautiful Aprilias. The woman has a fancy Tuono that made Ted a bit jealous (he has one). We also met a couple North Island riders on their way to Invercargill and the rally. We had met them briefly at Florence Hill and they shared some stories from their first Burt Monro visit, two years earlier.
The next stop on the South Coast was Curio Bay. Before we got there, we were abruptly stopped by a sizable herd of cows on the road. We didn't move forward and got some good pics as one of the nearby bulls eyed me warily as I eyed his horns... A car pulled up behind us and he said to go ahead. Since I am on a bike I invited him to lead the way. We followed as he slowly approached and they did yield but the road was narrow and the herd didn't have a lot of extra room. As we made it 3/4 of the way through we saw four dogs and a herder moving them up the road, eastward against our flow. Nobody was gored. I imagined that I might encounter sheep on the road but hadn't given much thought to cattle. A couple spots to date I had seen no fence for the sheep but all had steered clear of the road. Mostly all animals have been fenced in so far, however. I wish the Curio Bay pics did it justice. It is a campground and there are well manicured expanses of grass all the way up and along the top of the cliff/overlook. With waves and rock formations nearly 270° around you it is almost overwhelming.
Moving west, the next highlighted stop was Slope Point, the southernmost point in the South Island. A 20' walk through a breezy and grassy headland brings you to a lighthouse and a famous yellow marker sign. The end of our westward swing was the "town" of Fortrose. One cafe and it was packed. We settled in to two of the only empty seats. People were standing and talking and at least a dozen riders were there. After salmon and prawn salad was ordered we took in the atmosphere. Busy and fairly loud. Then, the noise reduced and we heard a woman's voice. She addressed the entire restaurant and wore a yellow vest and a walkie talkie. She was with the Dept. of Conservation and announced that we were being evacuated. She reported that roads both east and west of Fortrose were closed due to rising waters and that everyone was instructed to head to higher ground to the town hall of Tokanui. We tried to absorb this news. I imagined a cot at best, maybe a cushion if I was lucky to sleep on the floor of the town hall. We were told that civil defense was set up there with more information about the situation. In order to add gravitas to her proclamations, a helicopter then took off right next to the Fortrose Cafe. Turns out it was a news chopper looking to get footage of the disasters unfolding in Southland. I was not excited to spend the night. We talked and agreed to try to make our way back 90km to Owaka. She told us the road was closed eastward at Papatowai. Riding now with a purpose as it was 1:35 and the "wall of water" was expected by 4 we cruised with more silence than usual, wondering if the 60km ride east would just force a return to Tokanui or elsewhere. Each car stopped along the road at first seemed to be the police waiting to turn us away. As we approached Papatowai we rounded a curve and there they were. Sirens lit, parked obliquely and blocking our left lane completely. Ugh. We stopped and he started to walk over to us. Instead of telling us to turn around, he waved us through. Huge relief! We heard stories the rest of the day if people turned away at that same checkpoint and also at Balclutha. Having no idea why we were let through but grateful for our gamble paying off, we got gas and cruised into Owaka by our motel and took out our lunch and ate it outside the closed Lumber Jack cafe. A Dutch couple, a Swiss couple, and a group of four bikers all approached us to discuss the state of road closures and how/if travel west to Invercargill was possible. According to the news no travel to/from Invercargill is possible today. We must check out tomorrow AM and have an apartment rented in Invercargill the next three nights so fingers are crossed that the highest floodwaters have passed the Makarewa River there.
After lunch and a brief return to the motel, we headed east about 32km to Nugget Point lighthouse. Recent rains had caused a loss of roadway with some washout, some mudslides and some flooding but it was possible to make it to the parking area. We also passed a sea lion beached with a couple of intrusive cameras aimed at him as we passed by. A 900m walk hugged the sheer hillside where bushes and small trees sometimes grew completely over the trail in spots, like a vegetative cave. The white lighthouse structure appears after 10 minutes or so and it is connected by a narrow ridge line trail. Dropping off on both sides it is terribly dramatic to approach. The panorama at the lighthouse doesn't disappoint and this day was such a visual feast. A bit of a splurge on dinner. As all tables at the Lumber Jack were reserved, the proprietors accommodated us at the bar and the upscale fare was delicious. I got a cream of cauliflower soup followed by lamb lollipops and lamb shoulder with Israeli couscous, and some fruits and herbs I can't recall now but it was very good. Fingers crossed for tomorrow and as it is well after midnight I'm signing off.
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Text
The Secret
By: ModLennon & ModMcCartney
Rating: T
Pairing: John/Paul
Summery: Modern AU! John meets a boy with a secret, but will he ever find out what it is?
Chapter 3/?
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Tags: @the-beatle-queen
When Paul took off John got truly worried. Something was wrong! And Paul was saying he had to protect him? He couldn't let him run off like that, he had to at least try to stop him.
"Hey, woah! Paul come back!"
John took off after him. Paul wasn't really thinking about being careful and as he ran over a worn dip in the pavement he stumbled and fell to his knees. He couldn't find the energy to get up. He just stayed there, sniffling and not caring if he got funny looks. John was able to catch up to him quickly then. He immediately knelt down to check Paul over.
"Are you hurt??" He looked so worried, horrified at the idea of Paul hurting in any way, whether physical or emotional.
Paul just shook his head. He couldn't look at John. John carefully pulled Paul into a little hug.
"Cmon Paul.. what's all this business about protectin me? You dont have ta worry so much.. if ya don't feel the way I do.. I'll recover. I'm okay with bein friends, you know..."
John couldn't help but think it had to do with that. He simply had no idea what Paul was going through.
"N... no I... I'll hurt ya....I... I like ya f...far too m...much but we... we can't.... I can't.... can't..."
Paul would never be able to be just friends with John.
"Paul.." John spoke softly, lifting Paul's chin to look at him properly. "It's gonna be okay. Whatever this is about... it's okay. We don't have ta move fast. We don't have ta set any kind of expectations for the future. Just relax, yeah? I just wanna spend time with you, as much time as I can while I can, okay?"
"But when the time comes-"
"Then we'll deal with whatever this is about."
John had a sinking feeling, but he wasn't lying. If Paul was terminally ill or something similar, which it was starting to seem like what with how secretive he could be and the vague comments he made now, John still wasn't lying. He wanted to spend as much time with Paul as he could.
"For now, won't you let me take you home?"
"There... there can be no ‘we’ in the matter, don't ya get it? All I can do is leave ya behind an...an just...hurt ya."
Paul fell forward so his forehead rested against Johns shoulder. John's assumption was pretty much solidified by that comment. He hugged Paul tighter, feeling the strangest little ripping in his chest at the very thought.
"Then stay with me now, while you can." He spoke in barely more than a whisper.
Paul just nodded. How could he say no to John now? He understood the situation and he was still wanting to try for a little while. He was willing to have his heart broken to spend a little time with Paul. He knew either way John would lose him. If he didn't pick John he'd have to leave eventually. If he did...Paul swallowed and sat up.
"Alright... alright."
John relaxed a bit at that.
"Did ya hurt your knee?" He looked worried. He had seen Paul fall and wanted to make sure he wasn't too banged up from it before they got up to walk.
Paul gave a little nod. While he was sure he could probably walk on it, there was a nice lump forming. Besides he wanted an excuse to keep hold of John.
"Here, get on my back, I'll carry ya back." John insisted.
He knew he could just let Paul lean on him for support, but he wanted Paul closer. He wanted to show Paul he would carry him through whatever.
"Ya... ys sure?"
Paul knew he wasn't exactly fat, but he was pretty much the same size as John.
John nodded, "of course."
He smiled kindly and shifted so that Paul could easily climb on his back. Paul was unsure but still got himself settled on Johns back.
"Dya know where Forthlin Road is?"
"Yeah actually. That's right near me..."
John sounded a bit shocked again. Paul lived that close to him... and he had never seen him before today? It didn't seem possible. When Paul was settled he started walking. Paul relaxed completely. He didn't usually like others carrying him, self-conscious about his weight, but John was so comfortable.
"Now ya know where I live I suppose there's not a whole lot I can do ta stop ya comin round ey?" He sounded quite happy about that, despite everything.
"Not a chance. And I'm not the kinda guy who waits three days or whatever other nonsense people do these days. I'll be pestering you as soon as possible." He sounded very pleased with himself. He wanted to spend every free moment he had learning more about Paul.
"Well... this will be interesting to say the least." Paul commented.
"I can promise you that much."
John spoke with so much fondness in his voice it was almost even alarming to him.
"That and I have never taken a boy home ta meet dad before." Paul chuckled.
"Is he very strict?" John asked, for once actually sounding a little nervous. His own experiences with parental figures in his life had left him wary of parents.
"I wouldn't say strict. Just... protective."
Paul had a feeling it wouldn't exactly surprise Jim, to bring back a boyfriend. But anyone he brought back would be under a lot of scrutiny until Jim was satisfied they wouldn't hurt Paul.
"I can handle protective."
John could understand that, after all. He felt strong urge to protect Paul himself, so he was sure he'd get along with others who shared that feeling.
"And Mikes younger so he don't get a say in who I see." Paul joked.
John laughed at that. When he spoke again it was in a much softer voice.
"Dya think they'll like me?" More than anything, families made him insecure.
Paul had a little think, wanting to answer truthfully.
"Yeah... I think they will."
John seemed to relax a bit, though he'd been unaware of it he had automatically tensed up when Paul's father was brought up. Paul rested his chin on his arm. He could easily fall asleep like this.... he found he had dozed off a bit, only to be brought back to reality by John asking which number.
"Huh...?" He mumbled as his brain caught up. "Oh... 20... we already here?"
"Unfortunately, yeah..."
John really didn't want to leave Paul now, but he couldn't stay by his side forever really.
"Oh... well now I gotta decide if we should say bye at the door or if I should invite ya to my room."
Paul hated the idea of John leaving.
"Hmm.. dya have classes in the morning? I wouldn't wanna keep ya up, but if you're not doin anything else..."
Paul shook his head.
"Then I'll leave it up ta you," John smiled.
"W....well... would ya?" Paul asked almost shyly.
"I would love to." John said sounding so sure.
The more time he could get with Paul, the better.
"Ya just wanna be nosey ey?" Paul giggled.
When they got to the door, he carefully got off John and let them in.
"Oh, of course." John grinned. "I wanna see how ya keep your room. I bet ya keep it nice and tidy. And i bet... hm.. i bet ya alphabetize all your records and books or movies or whatever else ya got in there."
"I do not!" Paul gasped.
Paul shut the door behind them and yelled a hello to anyone around then led John up to his room. It was neat, but not so tidy. Paul hadn't exactly been expecting company so didn't tidy up. He blushed a bit. John looked very amused when he saw it.
"I guess I'm not always right. That's okay though, we'll get along even better than i thought."
He instantly went to look through Paul's record collection. It was obvious Paul took care of his collection. It was the tidiest thing in the room. On the shelf were various record and record player cleaning items. It seemed to be a little music corner, as Pauls guitar was on its stand near the shelves. His desk had a few scattered guitar picks of various thickness and colour. His favourite was stuck in the strings of his guitar. His desk was a whole other story. It was a creative mess. Not one thought was ordered, scraps of paper with drawing practise were laying mixed in with his actual collage work and some lyrics. A few of Pauls favourite lyrics that he wanted to really work on were pinned to a cork board above the desk. There seemed to be some kind of order there, with lyrics on the left side of the board while college notes were on the right. Other than that it was an ordinary room, a shelf of books and dvds, his laptop on his bed. A wardrobe with a few posters on, showing Paul did enjoy modern bands too. He had a muse tour poster, one for the American idiot musical, a small Elvis tribute act with a little signature in the corner and a clearly vintage Elvis poster in a frame on the wall. On top of some draws were various family pictures. It was a small room but had so much of Pauls character packed in. John took his time looking at everything. He didn't speak as he did, just silently walked through observing everything he could. The room told him so much about Paul and he wanted to learn everything he possibly could. Paul took his shoes and jacket off then sat on his bed.
"Well? Now ya here... did ya have any idea what ya would do once ya did?"
"I had a few," John looked over with a wicked grin. "But tonight I wanna keep things simple." He finished flipping through Paul's stack of books and finally went to sit on his bed. "When did you first start collecting records?"
John went right back to asking questions. He couldn't help himself. He just wanted to know everything. Even the things that might seem boring to others.
"Um... when I was about 11/12. Mum showed me a record she had and I liked it so much she said I could keep it. We used ta go record shoppin."
"Which record was it?"
John was very interested in that. His own mother was the one who got him into records as well. Paul stood up and went to the shelf. He flicked through until he found it. He carefully pulled out a best of Buddy Holly and handed it to John.
"She said she remembered Grandma playing it when she was younger. Probably not this exact record but... yknow."
"Ahhh Buddy Holly.." John smiled appreciatively as he looked it over. "So you've always had good taste then."
Paul blushed a bit. "W...well thanks ta her. Left ta dad it'd be jazz an brass bands."
"I'm sure she's quite proud of the collection you've got now."
Paul suddenly went quiet and turned his back to John, finding something to distract himself instead of responding to the comment. John wasn't too sure, but it did seem a bit odd. He moved so he could hug Paul from behind, resting his chin on Paul's shoulder.
"Paul... I want your whole life story. From the very beginning.. from your first memories.. tell me everything that led to you being this person, with those posters and those books... tell me about your favourite films and your favourite place to play as a child. I wanna know everything."
Paul quickly wiped his eyes.
"Well I... I can't remember /everythin/..." he mumbled.
"That's okay. Just tell me everything you do remember."
John wasn't stupid. He could tell something was a bit off after the comment he had made. He could only assume the worst.
"W...well I dunno where ta start... a lot of it is... borin growin up stuff yknow."
"I don't think I'll find any of it boring," John said with a smile.
"I can't think of anythin you'd really wanna know." Paul shrugged. "What I went ta school, rode a bike, hung out with friends?"
"Mmm.. tell me about your friends? Maybe favourite childhood memory?"
As John spoke he laid back on Paul's bed, making himself at home. He wanted to get a feel for Paul's life, see what he saw every night before bed.
"Oh... well I dunno... I mean I never had any like... really close friends. Coz we move around so much yknow? An kids ain't great at keepin in touch..." Paul paused for a moment. "Well... for a few years I did but... moved again so we fell outta touch." Paul found he never had problems making friends. But he did have difficulty keeping them. Mostly because he got secretive, hid away a lot and disappeared for months on end. Most of them just moved on. "Best childhood memory? Well... usually when we managed to go to a beach. Formby was the best but we would sometimes travel to New Brighton or Blackpool."
There it was again, a sudden fondness for water, specifically the sea. Which didn't add up to how he behaved around water.
"Huh, I was kind of under the impression ya didn't like water. Ya seemed so skiddish at the docks..."
John wondered briefly if something had happened during one of those beach days that traumatized Paul. That could explain the love and hate relationship with water he seemed to have.
"O...oh well.... the... the beach has other stuff yknow... playin in the sand an most have...the arcades..." Paul couldn't look at John. Instead he sat at his desk. "Anyway there was a reason you asked to know everythin. You wanna know somethin specific but ya don't wanna ask outright."
Paul raised an eyebrow. He had seen the behaviour before. He knew he could get funny when Mary was mentioned and people were so worried about upsetting him they would ask sort of vague questions in the hope he'd tell them. But Paul was careful with how he answered, only letting them know what he wanted them to. Sure if they asked he'd answer, but how much information he divulged would depend on how much he trusted them
"Actually I do just wanna know everything," John smiled. "But I am curious about somethin, yeah.. your mum.. she isn't around anymore is she?" He asked, his voice a bit softer now, sympathetic.
Really all the signs were there, the way Paul only talked about John meeting his father and brother, how he had said they used to go record shopping as a past tense. They were subtle clues but John was more attentive than most. Paul sighed and just shook his head. At least John made it a bit easier to answer, rather than the usual 'so what happened to your mum?' John didn't know what to say, so he just went to hug Paul again from behind, a bit tighter this time.
"Mine isn't either.." his voice was barely a whisper.
John just wanted Paul to see he understood, that /this/ was something he didn't have to feel alone in. He had lost his mother just a few short years ago, and he knew the pain all too well. Paul looked at John for a moment before turning to face him and just letting himself cry, hugging John just as tightly. He understood. He wouldn't expect Paul to be brave or tell him crying was childish. John held him tight, letting him cry. He had a horrible feeling that Paul had never been able to properly cry or show anyone how he felt about this. After a while, Paul pulled away wiping his face.
"S...sorry..."
"Ya don't have ta be sorry for anything." John said with a sad smile.
Johns own eyes were a bit puffy, as he had cried a bit as well. He was bad about Julia, he had never really processed it properly either. Without thinking, Paul gently wiped Johns eyes. It felt so good just to be able to grieve. He missed Mary so much, much more that the others just couldn't understand. Sure they missed her, but sometimes it physically hurt Paul to think she wasn't there. His future was so uncertain, there would be problems only she could help with. Paul bit his lip, looking at John carefully.
"I...do...are ya gonna...go home soon?"
It hurt less with John around. He felt so safe around him.
"I'll do whatever ya want me to. I'll stay however long you'll have me."
John closed his eyes at the feeling of Paul's hand on his face, leaning into the touch a bit.
"I just..."
Paul looked away. He felt so silly feeling like he did... he just met John a few hours ago.
"What is it?" John asked softly. "You can tell me.."
John couldn't deny their connection was quite odd, and it was all so sudden.. he didn't want to overcrowd Paul. He was worried that he might be, if the intensity was more one sided and Paul was just too kind and soft to push him away. Paul had a light blush across his cheeks.
"Ya just... make me feel... safe." He mumbled.
John's answering smile was so bright and pleased, the insecurity that had been bubbling up completely washed away.
"Good. I wanna make you feel safe."
Paul gave John a sad smile. He knew it couldn't be forever and one day, maybe soon, he'd lose that safety. Either way he couldn't resist cuddling back up, hiding his face in the crook of Johns neck. The only thing that made him pull back was the need to be a good host.
“Are ya hungry at all?" He asked. "Dya need anythin ta drink?"
He had no idea how long John did intend to stay. He wasn't sure if he would find it weird, staying the night, so he wasn't entirely sure how much to offer. Would he want to borrow pyjamas?
"I'm alright for now."
John was perfectly content just cuddling with Paul for the moment. He did hope that Paul might let him stay. He felt like he could stay with Paul forever and never get tired of him.
"W... well...dya wanna get more comfortable?"
Paul seemed a tiny bit bolder in his own room, but was still rather nervous about asking John these things. He didn't want to push it.
"I could go for that."
John was trying to take everything at Paul's pace and not be so bold now that he was in Paul's space. He didn't want to make a nuisance of himself. Paul moved off John then looked a little lost. He wasn't sure what to do now. They were clearly moving forward, getting closer, but Paul had never been in this situation.
"Here, why don't we put on a record?"
John suggested, thinking ahead a bit. There would be less pressure on Paul to say or do anything if he could just relax to music.
"Sure... what dya fancy?" Paul relaxed a little as he went over to the shelf.
"Maybe some Elvis?"
As John spoke he took his shoes and jacket off and settled in on the bed, leaving room for Paul to join him to cuddle. Paul nodded and put on a best of collection. Once playing at a nice low volume, he turned back to John. He carefully climbed onto the bed. Because it was a single he was practically on John, cuddling up. Outside it had gone dark and rain had started to fall. It was so cosy, Paul found himself quickly relaxing into Johns arms. John tried to make sure Paul was as cosy as possible before properly relaxing himself. He ran his hand along Paul's arm and back, stroking gently. The moment felt so perfect and surreal, he never wanted it to end.
"So um... this... this is pretty... not normal... for two guys who just met right? So... so what...uh...what...do we...what did ya... ya want...?"
Paul wasn't sure what John expected. He didn't know what was acceptable and what crossed a line.
"Well, to be honest I've kinda thrown normal out the window for this. I've never had a connection like this with someone before so.. I don't really know what ta do. But... obviously if anything I do makes ya uncomfortable... you can tell me yeah? Or if ya just get tired of me bein in your bed.." John smiled, "otherwise I'd just say do what feels right. I don't have any expectations, Paul. I'm just thrilled to be here with you."
Paul nodded a bit, but he was a little giddy after all this.
"So.... so you... ya my... friend? Nap buddy?.... body pillow?" He joked.
Maybe labels didn't really matter, but they did help set boundaries for Paul who was new to all this. John grinned a bit at that.
"Hmmm.. well I'm not big on labels, really.. but I was hoping for something a bit more than friend.." he mused.
John in as he spoke to gently run his nose along Paul's jawline, leaving a little kiss on his neck. Paul gasped a bit at what John was doing.
"I... I just...I don't know how ta... ta..."
Whenever John got near to his ear, specifically behind it, he would gasp louder and pull away. It almost looked like he was ticklish there. John had to bite his lip to hide the huge grin from that reaction. There were more serious things being discussed right now, though he did file that information away for later use.
"Have ya never dated someone before?" He asked, his tone gentle and understanding.
Paul shook his head.
"Like I was saying earlier... it could never be for long so... so I never bothered."
"Well... Paul... if you'll have me, I'd like to be with you for as long as you want me."
John's heart ached at the knowledge that that might not be long, but it only made him hold Paul a little tighter.
"I just... you'll be hurt. An... an ya ain't gonna understand why... I just... I can't say..."
Paul was so worried about this. He had no doubt Jim would make him leave when he had to, and eventually he would spend less and less time in Liverpool. Jim wouldn't let Paul do what Mary did. And even if he did, John would have to watch him die, like Jim had to watch Mary die. Knowing it was because she chose him, he was the reason, Paul saw it tear his dad up. How could he do that to someone he loved? Paul froze. Loved? He looked up at John and felt the flutter. Oh fuck...
"I know... you don't have ta tell me why, Paul. But like I said, I want this. I can't leave now knowin you exist and live in a world where I can't hold you, at least for now. I'm very...taken with you. And I want you for as long as I can have you... and the rest... I'll deal with it when its time. But that's on me, that's my choice yeah? So let me choose this."
"What if... hypothetically... ya... ya were the..." Paul sighed. He couldn't lay that on John just yet. "Nevermind. Ya right. It is your choice. An I suppose ya not gonna be that easy to deter right?" Paul gave a little smile.
John grinned, "ya got that right. The only thing that you could say ta make me leave ya alone is that you don't want me. So.. if ya ever change your mind.. I won't bother ya forever. But as for right now I happen to think you want me around just as much as I wanna be here. So lets steer into the skid and just live a little."
John had a triumphant smile, like he had won the lottery in getting Paull. Paul knew he should tell John he didn't want him. He should send him away. But he just couldn't he couldn't stand the idea of John going out with someone else. As selfish as it seemed, he didn't want to let anyone even consider having a chance with John. Instead he gave John a sweet kiss on the cheek. John turned his head to catch Paul's lips in a proper kiss, a bit more than the ones at the docks, but he was still very gentle and slow. He didn't want to rush things, but he was just thrilled to be able to kiss Paul. Paul felt a tingling through him as John kissed him. He could do it forever. However eventually he had to pull back to breathe. He looked up at John gasping a bit, lips red and swollen and a blush across his cheeks. John looked at him and felt his heart swell. Fuck! He had /no business/ being that hot! He had to look away or he didn't trust himself to not get carried away, so instead he closed his eyes and covered Paul's face in sweet little kisses. Paul screwed his nose up and giggled as John tickled him a bit. In the end he resorted to hiding his face in the crook of Johns neck again, still laughing. John finally gave up when he hid his face and just laughed with Paul. It felt so right to hold him. John tried to commit this moment to his memory, one thing he would never forget no matter what the future held.
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plague-of-insomnia · 5 years
Note
🍋 🍌
Thank you for the ask 💕!!
🍋 Your descriptions are transportive
Wow... 😶☺️🥰 Thank you.
🍌I want to pick your brain about your creative process.
This will be a long post, FYI.
Chaos.
Haha, I’m joking.
Or am I?
Honestly, I’ve tried a lot of different things over the years, including outlining, and it never works for me bc my characters control the story. I really am just their interpreter, putting their lives and words onto virtual paper.
I’m a “character first” kind of writer (as opposed to a “plot first”), and that means I could probably tell you what any of the main cast of my stories ate for breakfast on the morning of their 8th birthday, but I couldn’t tell you what happens in the end, or sometimes even in the next chapter, bc I don’t know until I “get there.”
I’ve done my best to break my process down into 8 steps.
Step 1: The Idea
When I first get an idea, it usually comes to me in terms of a really vivid scene, like the chapter in Where Demons Hide called “Spark of Madness.” Usually that scene ends up in the beginning of the story but not normally the first chapter. Sometimes it’ll give me some story/plot to help me begin to flesh out the idea more, like in that example, where the main antagonist/conflict is introduced, though normally I have to work at it a bit more.
Step 2: Flesh Things Out
This is where I brainstorm, usually thinking about the main characters, who they are and what their flaws might be and what they might want to help me “find” the story. Sometimes I’ll make a character sheet (normally I don’t if I’m working alone bc I don’t have to). I do normally make a file for notes where I’ll jot down possible ideas about the characters and where the story might go.
I’ll be perfectly honest and say while this process does get me jump started, most of the notes I jot down I don’t end up using bc as the characters and story formulates, they both tend to change from my original ideas.
Step 3: Research
This can often be tied in with #2 and it’s not as if it just stops here. But as I often write about disabilities, mental and chronic illness, I like to make sure I can get as much info about the disease/condition I want to represent as possible so that I can:
represent it appropriately and accurately and
so I can find story/character details along the way.
For example, in my novel UnConventional, I was able to talk with a friend who is not only an orthotic user (and has been for years) but is an engineer of sorts so he understands very well *how* they work. By talking with him about various orthotics and his own struggles with them, I was able to find new plot and character details that help make the story more vivid and real and also allowed me to drive it in directions I may not have been able to otherwise.
Step 4: Write, Write, Write.
Two things you need to know about my writing process:
I usually do better when I write out of order.
I need to visualize the scene in my head to write it effectively. My “writers block” comes from not being able to see things in my head
My method isn’t the most efficient, but it’s how my brain works, and I’ve learned to go with it rather than fight it.
I brainstorm with myself (or a friend or my husband if possible) when necessary, or sometimes I’ll just close my eyes in a quiet place to allow myself to “see” the next series of scenes. Before I can forget the vivid movie I saw in my head, I do what I call a “scene sketch.”
I call it a “sketch,” bc just like a sketch is usually the foundation for a piece of art, mine are the basic structure for a completed scene. I do this also if I have a pretty solid idea but don’t have the time to write or I’m too tired or something like that, bc sketches allow me to simply sit down and flesh them out to create a completed scene.
They’re kind of like what an outline might be for other writers but less organized. Sketches are like a little treatment of a scene, including the basic setting, an idea of POV, and even dialog and body language, but jotted down really quickly without quotes or dialog tags. Sometimes there’ll be things like “maybe this happens” bc once I actually write the scene I’ll know if that idea feels right or not.
Here’s an example from a rejected chapter of WDH (I ended up going in a slightly different direction):
Seb answers when room service knocks. Bard is hovering, maybe bc he heard Seb’s scream. He sees the bad bite on Seb’s bare chest, sees he’s trembling and drowning more than ever, his eyes almost pleading for rescue. But when Bard asks if he’s OK he smiles and says yes, sir. Takes the food from the room service person and says he’s been ordered to wait on the guests personally. Shuts the door in Bard’s face.
Sometimes these sketches can be very detailed, other times it’s more of a general, quick jot of what happens or the scene I want to set. It depends on my brain and the scene.
I like to set goals based on scenes (or sometimes chapters), and do my best to complete a scene in its entirety if possible before I stop. If I can’t bc of time, then I’ll write a really brief sketch so I know what I need to do when I pick back up again so I won’t forget.
I’ve been writing and editing long enough that depending on the project I’m able to self-edit as I write. That doesn’t mean I don’t revise or edit later, but it saves some time overall as I am more aware of certain things than I used to be.
Because I write out of order, my process often entails being a puzzle master and piecing things together. Especially for something like Where Demons Hide, which has a lot of flashbacks, since I write those separately from the main story, I then have to figure out where they “belong.” I’d say 98% of the time for this fic I have already written the flashbacks before the chapter(s) they end up in.
My original serial fiction I write in a similar fashion, where I often will write scenes out of order and then assemble them into chapters later. So sometimes I’ll make a kind of “outline” of plot points that I need to cover. It’s not so much a fixed thing as a memory aid and place for me to put notes of ideas that might come to me that aren’t completely fleshed out.
Step 5: Rest
Once I’ve completed a chapter, I try to let it “rest” for at least a few days, if not longer. Especially if it was a long chapter or something that was difficult to write and took me awhile so I’ve been working on it for days or even weeks at a time.
I do this for three reasons:
“In process” brain lies often and says a scene/chapter sucks and I should just burn my computer/phone and take up accounting instead, and that the pacing is awful and it’s boring and lots of similar untruths.
Especially if the chapter took me a long time to finish because it’s lengthy or complicated or has difficult subject matter or whatever, it means there’s a good chance I’ve been working on it for days or even weeks and I’m SICK TO DEATH of it and never want to see it again, so taking a break from it is a welcome relief. It’s like taking a vacation after you’ve been working overtime for months. Sometimes I’ll do writing-adjacent things during this time, like reading, organizing/typing my notes, jotting down things I need to work on, reading/watching stuff that will energize and inspire me. Other times I work on another project or other scenes/chapters in the same project. Sometimes I’ll just take a break if I’m feeling burnt out or stressed.
I can come back to the project with fresh eyes, so that I can read it and see what things are actually good (suck it, in-process brain) or what things may still need work in a way I couldn’t do so soon after finishing.
Step 6: Revise
I revise in different ways depending on how much I feel something needs fixing. The first revision is my chance to see how the puzzle pieces knit together, work on scenes that I noticed aren’t pulling their weight or that need to be fleshed out. Sometimes this means I will completely, totally rewrite—and by that I mean “retype.” I open a fresh document, and referencing the original, start over. This allows me to streamline and better hone my language and ensure each scene is working hard.
This is something I do if I feel like a scene isn’t working as-is or I have a shit-ton of notes and comments on the first draft and it’s so chaotic I feel like I can’t focus anymore. This is especially helpful for dialog.
Other times the revisions are less drastic. Sometimes I means moving a scene around or deleting one that isn’t working. Sometimes it means finding all the times I’ve repeated the same word and fixing that, or fixing places where I’ve used the same sentence type too often.
Revision can be a very long process, depending on the quality of the first draft and what my goal is. If it’s just fan fic I’m doing for fun, then I don’t obsess too much: usually 1-2 read throughs and adjustments are OK. If it’s something I’m going to submit for publication, then that’s a different story bc the quality of the edit of your submitted draft makes a good impression (or a bad one).
Step 7: Beta Reader
If I have one, which I don’t always, then this is where I’ll send it to them. Usually what I want in a beta reader isn’t stuff like proof or copy editing, but rather “big picture” stuff. I want them to tell me: “this scene isn’t working” or “this feels contrived” or “I don’t like the main character.”
It can be frustrating and disheartening to get feedback that means I have to go back and do some major revising, but that’s why they’re there, bc often it’s either things I couldn’t see bc I’m too close to the story, or stuff I was in denial about (lol). Listening to my betas always leads to a better draft.
Step 8: Proofreading/Copyediting
The last step. I’ve done this professionally so I’m usually pretty good at finding typos and inconsistencies myself, but some people will hire someone like me to do that work bc they don’t have the skill or the time. Even if it’s “just for fun,” proofing is important bc it affects readability, and it’s embarrassing to me if I post something with glaring proof errors 😶.
~~~Anyway, that is roughly how my brain works. I don’t know if this is what you were expecting or wanting, but here it is!
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geekprincess26 · 5 years
Text
Smarter Than Ned
I never thought I’d be writing a sequel to my “Smarter Than Robb” meta (here), especially not on the eve of the series finale of “Game of Thrones.”  However, that was before “The Bells” (at least in my opinion) broke the show’s streak of so-so to awful episodes that started somewhere in season 7.  It made me wonder and marvel and gasp and tear up and, above all, think.  So did the many articulate posts my fellow Jonsa fans have made about that episode, and in particular about Jon’s role both in that segment of the show and in the watershed overwhelming Westeros at the moment.  As I rewatched the episode and read people’s posts, I began seeing Jon’s actions in a slightly different light.  Then I realized how similar they were to Ned Stark’s doomed efforts to keep his family and the Seven Kingdoms safe and stabilized in season 1.
Ah, yes, Ned Stark, the original Northern fool – or, at least, that was how so many people, both on the show and off it, viewed him, much as they later saw his son nephew.  And what fools they both were, right?  Certainly they were such from a general perspective, but seen from Sansa’s viewpoint, many of those actions attained the very height of idiocy.  Let us count the ways, starting with Sansa’s father, Ned Stark:
1. HE LIED TO HIS FAMILY, HIS FRIENDS, AND THE WORLD He brought a Targaryen heir into his home under the nose of a king who had sworn to eradicate all Targaryens from the face of the earth and claimed that the boy was his bastard, without knowing if Jon would grow up to look like his birth father and therefore clue in Robert – and the rest of Westeros – to the truth.  He let his own wife think the worst of him, ensuring both a huge strain in their young marriage and her less-than-motherly treatment of poor Jon.  What a stubborn, reckless idiot, one could be forgiven for thinking.  And what an unnecessary sacrifice of his reputation as a man of honesty and honor, two of the things he valued most.
2. HE DISREGARDED HIS FAMILY’S WARNINGS AND HEADED STRAIGHT INTO A DANGEROUS PLACE Many years later, when Jon Arryn died, Robert Baratheon requested that Ned replace the older man as his Hand.  Ned, a devoted family man, did not want to leave his family, and especially not to live in King’s Landing with its politics and backstabbing.  And due to his friendship with Robert, he had a good chance to refuse the other man’s offer while keeping his head, family, and honor intact.  But Lysa Arryn’s raven arrived at Winterfell with its allegations that the Lannisters had murdered her husband.  That gave Ned reason to fear for Robert’s safety, and so he left his family behind him.  No one could fault him for his desire to keep Robert on his throne and avoid another succession conflict, which the Seven Kingdoms could ill afford.  However, he could have employed any number of better, smarter options to fulfill that desire, right?  How about suggesting another Hand, one who could play the Southern political game more effectively?  How about sending ravens to other loyal friends of the king, or even meeting with them in person, to gather more information?  Maybe then he could have discovered the truth about Jon Arryn’s death before his family antagonized the Lannisters.
3. HE DELIBERATELY SHOWED HIS HAND TO HIS ENEMY – ALL BECAUSE OF HONOR Speaking of the Lannisters, many would argue that Ned reached the height of his Northern naiveté in his dealings with them.  After all, what kind of idiot would warn the very enemy he’s about to rat out to the king?  We know that Ned did this with noble intentions.  He knew what Robert would do to Cersei and the children once he discovered Jaime’s affair with Cersei, and despite his dislike of Cersei, his honor would not allow him to stand by while her children died horrible deaths.  Still, if he truly wanted to serve the greater good, could he not have let five lives go for the sake of the greater good?  After all, wasn’t the greater good the reason he lied to everyone he knew about Jon, as well as his motivation for leaving his family to serve as Robert’s Hand?
4. HE PLOTTED AGAINST THE “KING” OF WESTEROS WITHOUT SEEKING HELP AND COUNSEL FROM HIS FAMILY AND TRUSTWORTHY FRIENDS Not a good idea, right?  Especially when that means the continent’s second succession crisis in two decades and it’s not yet recovered from the first.  Ned’s eventual aim was honorable and worthy, which helps to justify his dangerous and dishonorable actions, but he could (and should) have sought the advice and support of his wife, who’s clearly a canny woman with a lot of connections.  Moreover, he probably should have at least considered involving Stark or Tully bannermen whom he knew would be loyal to him, rather than counting on Stannis Baratheon and a motley crew from King’s Landing, all of whom had their own agendas.
Speaking of which…
5. HE IGNORED HIS GUT INSTINCTS AND PLACED HIS TRUST IN A DANGEROUS AND DEADLY INDIVIDUAL Littlefinger rubbed Ned the wrong way from the day they met.  It took less than one episode after that for Ned to slam the snake against the wall of his own brothel by his neck for his perverted remarks about Catelyn, Ned’s wife.  But Catelyn was convinced that Littlefinger would never harm her and therefore would not want to see any harm come to Ned because she loved Ned so much, so Ned ignored his first instincts – and Littlefinger’s own warnings – which told him the man was a snake waiting to strike.  Instead, he chose to believe that Littlefinger would see the nobility – or at least the intrigue and the reward – in Ned’s attempts to place the rightful heir on the throne and keep Westeros from being ruled by a beast like Joffrey.  But, as Ned found out the hard way, the most sophisticated strategy in the world doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t trust the people who are supposed to be helping you carry it out.
6. HE SACRIFICED HIS LIFE AND LEFT HIS FAMILY FOREVER – ALL FOR A MINUSCULE CHANCE AT KEEPING SANSA SAFE Granted, by the time Ned was brought out onto the steps of the Sept of Baelor, his options were very, very limited due to his own deliberate course of action.  He knew he would either (a) die, or (b) get sent to the Wall, separated from his family forever.  Either way, his life would essentially be over, and he would most likely be declared a traitor to the crown, which meant that unless his son Robb swore fealty to Joffrey (which he likely knew would never happen), his entire family would be considered traitors, and their lands and goods and freedom forfeit to Joffrey (and, by extension, Cersei).  Still, dying would be more honorable.  Accepting exile to the Wall meant lying abominably to earn a hollow life of shame – not an action the honorable Ned Stark would have taken lightly.  But he did it anyway, because doing it gave his beloved daughter Sansa a better chance at survival.  Of course, Ned failed to take into consideration the extent of Joffrey’s megalomaniacal cruelty, and he died anyway for his troubles.
Certainly, many of Ned’s actions, when taken at face value, don’t look too brilliant.  That makes his more intelligent and shrewd deeds, such as the conspiracy to place Stannis on the throne, even more confusing.  One sees a picture of a noble and even heroic man, one who clearly has a brain for military and even sometimes political strategy, who hatches incredibly detailed and sophisticated plans but then blows them all in bursts of idiocy.  
But what motives lie behind that apparent idiocy?  That is the crucial question, and one that many viewers have missed, although the answer should surprise no one.
Every time Ned Stark made a “stupid” decision, it was for one or more of the following three reasons: 1) serving the greater good of the realm (leaving Winterfell to become Robert’s Hand, taking on Littlefinger as a co-conspirator to put Stannis, the rightful heir, on the throne); 2) acting honorably (warning Cersei that he was about to reveal her affair with Jaime); and, most importantly, 3) protecting his family.  The motives are often intertwined, and sometimes one (such as honor) conflicts with one or more of the others (such as protecting Ned’s family), but every one of the decisions outlined above has involved some combination of these three reasons.
Twelve-year-old Sansa, of course, could not entirely understand her father’s actions or the complex motivations behind them.  All she saw was that he screwed up and lost his head for it.  When she got older, she had more of a capacity to understand why Ned did what he did.  As she says to Jon in episode 1 of season 7, “He was trying to protect [his daughters].”  However, that doesn’t decrease the trauma his death put her through, and she wishes he would have been smarter by listening better to both his own instincts and the wise counsel of his family and friends.
Sound familiar?  Good.  Let’s unpack some of Jon’s more questionable decisions from the past two seasons, which parallel his uncle’s to an uncanny degree, and see what his actions and mannerisms tell us about why he made those decisions:
1. HE LIED TO HIS FAMILY, HIS FRIENDS, AND THE WORLD During most of Jon’s scenes with Daenerys, he’s been uncomfortable, stilted, cautious, resigned, and even downright afraid, especially as season 8 has worn on.  His final “I love you” to her in the early scenes of “The Bells” is just the latest, but perhaps the most obvious, instance in which he uses what’s left of her romantic feelings for him in a desperate attempt to placate her and de-escalate her more violent tendencies.  The man is clearly not in love with Daenerys, and, based on his prior interactions with her, he never was (heck, he even looked uncomfortable while having sex with her!) – although that’s an argument for a different post.
But Jon never spells this out clearly to either his people (sorry, but “I gave up my crown to protect the North” is an ambiguous allusion, not a specific explanation) or, even more important, his family, whom he loves more than anyone.  He can bring himself to admit his true parentage to his siblings cousins, but not that he deceived Daenerys into thinking he was in love with her.  Instead, he keeps reciting the tired refrain that “she’s my queen; she’ll be a good queen; you just don’t know her.”  Ironically, of course, and as another meta that contrasted Ned’s circumstances with Jon’s noted, his family members could and would help him if only he would ask for it.  Sansa is a terrific leader with a keen political mind and the clout to call the Northern banners to defend Jon against Daenerys, if she wanted to do it.  Arya is one hell of a warrior assassin.  And Bran’s visions, as we’ve seen, can work wonders.  Furthermore, all three of them are fiercely loyal to him.  But he still won’t tell them squat about what he fears Daenerys is becoming, and even when Sansa figures it out during the battlements scene with Tyrion, you can see the wheels turning in her head over why the heck Jon didn’t just tell her about it in the first place.
What an idiot, right?  But remember Ned Stark’s three main motives behind some of his “stupid” decisions, and you’ll see that Jon truly is his uncle’s nephew.  Clearly, he sees Daenerys as a threat to the North in general and to his family in particular, especially Sansa (whom Daenerys threatened twice in the first episode alone).  The fewer people who know Jon’s true feelings about her, the less he has to worry that she’ll hear about them and go Dracarys on the people Jon cares about the most.
Ned Stark motives #1 and #3: CONFIRMED.
2. HE DISREGARDED HIS FAMILY’S WARNINGS AND HEADED STRAIGHT INTO A DANGEROUS PLACE Back in episode 2 of season 7, Sansa and the Northern lords between them listed every possible reason that Jon should rethink his impulsive decision to travel to Dragonstone and form an alliance with a Targaryen who, given the family’s history of madness and violence, might very well either listen to Jon or burn him on the spot.  Granted, Tyrion Lannister, whom both Jon and Sansa trusted, had vouched for Daenerys, and neither of them particularly wanted Cersei Lannister to stay on the Iron Throne, but to Sansa’s mind, Daenerys was enough of an unknown quantity – with three dragons to boot – that Jon should have considered his decision a bit more thoroughly.
But Jon, like his uncle, had a larger goal in mind that outweighed his desire to stay home with the only family he had.  Jon’s goal, though, was not the realm’s political stability, but its survival.  To his mind, the only hope he had of achieving that goal for his people and the people of the other six kingdoms was to bring Daenerys, her armies, her dragons, and her dragonglass back North.  That much he does admit to Sansa in episode 1 of season 8, but, as she points out, he hadn’t fully considered the price he was paying for her assistance.  Had he known ahead of time, though, I think our beloved, impulsive hero would have done the same thing all over again.  To him, every sacrifice he made on Daenerys’s altar was worth it to save his family, the North, and Westeros, in that order.
Ned Stark motives #1 and #3: CONFIRMED.
3. HE DELIBERATELY SHOWED HIS HAND TO HIS ENEMY – ALL BECAUSE OF HONOR When Jon first met Daenerys, he tried to convince her to join the fight against the White Walkers by every above-board means possible.  He asked her nicely.  He showed her evidence to support his claims (depending on what you believe about the cave drawings, but I think they were authentic).  He offered his support to her claim to the Iron Throne.  He warned her when he received the raven from Bran indicating that the Night King and his armies were on the way to Eastwatch.  Only when Daenerys refused beyond all reason to drop her demand that Jon bend the knee did his actions become more underhanded and calculated.  Only after he realized that his only other option was imprisonment did he agree to the mad idea of the Wight Hunt.  Only after Cersei had apparently refused to join with them at the dragon pit summit and Daenerys began to waver in her commitment to help save the realm did Jon play the false romance card.  He did the “dishonorable” thing, as Ned would have put it (sleeping with a woman he had no plans to marry and risking fathering a bastard), only after his attempts at honor, as he saw them, had failed.
Ned Stark motive #2: CONFIRMED.
4. HE PLOTTED AGAINST THE “QUEEN” OF WESTEROS WITHOUT SEEKING HELP AND COUNSEL FROM HIS FAMILY (Well, he plotted against Cersei Lannister, too, but that was a given from the beginning, so I won’t go into it any further here.)
By season 8, Jon knows Daenerys Targaryen well enough to be wary of her, at the very least, and by the end of episode 1, he’s clearly beginning to see just how applicable the “-[A]erys” at the end of her name is.  She threatens Sansa twice.  Sam tells him that she killed Randyll and Dickon after they had already surrendered on the field of battle.  She clearly expects the North to kowtow to her and loves it when her dragons frighten them.
As the season wears on, Daenerys’s paranoia and impulsiveness increase at lightning speed.  In episode 4 alone, she threatens Sansa for a third time, forces Jon into promising not to tell his own family who he really is, and pressures him to continue his sexual relationship with her even when he doesn’t want to do it.  Jon clearly sees the writing on the wall at that point, and he finally rebels against her in his own way by breaking his (coerced) promise and telling his cousins that he’s not Ned Stark’s son.  That would have been the perfect opportunity for him to enlist their help against Daenerys.  As mentioned above, they all have skill sets that could help him greatly in that endeavor.  Instead, he decides that it’s more important to “protect” them by giving them no choice in the matter and separating them from the threat Daenerys has become.  He swears allegiance once again to the Dragon Queen and heads south at her command with no clear plan to stop her oncoming descent into full-fledged villainy except to talk her out of it, and then maybe deal with any out-of-control actions on her part once Cersei Lannister has been defeated.  Sigh.
Ned Stark motive #3: CONFIRMED.
5. HE IGNORED HIS GUT INSTINCTS AND PLACED HIS TRUST IN A DANGEROUS AND DEADLY INDIVIDUAL Even though Jon was the one who insisted on heading off to Dragonstone in season 7 to persuade a completely unknown quantity descended from the craziest, most violent House the Seven Kingdoms have ever had the misfortune to host, he clearly has his reservations about it.  He’s rightly uneasy when the Dothraki confiscate his ships and weapons, and just as rightly indignant when Daenerys insults him and his family.  However, he persists in trying to obtain her assistance because she can help him with his goal of defeating the dead, much like Ned thought Littlefinger could help him with his goal of putting the rightful heir on the throne of Westeros.  He believes, at least for a time, that she’ll be a better choice as an ally than would Cersei Lannister, and that belief makes him overlook warning signal after warning signal: her threat to burn down the Red Keep, her insistence on imprisoning him on Dragonstone until he agrees to go on the wight hunt, her hauling him to King’s Landing against his will, her threats against his family (particularly Sansa) – all to defeat the dead.  Until the dead have finally been defeated, and he gets a full view of Daenerys’s true colors, just like Ned Stark got an eyeful of Littlefinger’s.  
Ned Stark motive #1: CONFIRMED.
6. HE SACRIFICED HIS LIFE AND LEFT HIS FAMILY FOREVER – ALL FOR A MINUSCULE CHANCE AT KEEPING SANSA SAFE Jon knew there was a high likelihood that he’d die defending Winterfell against the dead in episode 3, and a similar possibility that he’d die trying to take King’s Landing with Daenerys’s armies in episode 5.  Dying in episode 3 would have meant dying with some honor in defense of his home, but once he went south to die in episodes 4 and 5, he knew that his options were limited.  He could either (a) die in the service of a pyromaniac tyrant, or (b) live, but only under the terms she’d dictated to him in episode 4.  Either way, he knew he might never be able to see his family again, and either way, he’d brought shame and dishonor upon himself and his family.  As with Ned Stark, the greater shame lay in the second option, which in Jon’s case basically involved being enslaved, sexually and otherwise, to his cruel and unhinged aunt (yes, the great “Breaker of Chains” – oh, the irony!).
But instead of rushing forward to his death in King’s Landing, as he had in the Battle of the Bastards, Jon chooses to live.  He chooses to retreat with as many of his men as he can and risk living a life of slavery and shame.  If he’s dead, he can’t protect his family.  He can’t protect Sansa.  He’s promised to protect her, and that’s what he’s determined to do no matter what the cost – to his honor, his life, and his soul.  It’s beautiful, but incredibly tragic.
Ned Stark motive #3: CONFIRMED.
So, in the end, was Jon Snow really smarter than his uncle?  Unlike with Robb, I’d have to say no, and I think that Sansa, even as an adult and with the capacity and insight she now has to understand the proverbial methods behind both men’s madness – would as well.  Both men had significant military skills, and both men planned and executed fairly sophisticated schemes.  And both were willing to protect their families, with a special emphasis on Sansa, no matter what the cost.  But both had the same fatal flaws: (a) they were a bit too noble in some cases for their own good, (b) they held their cards too close to their chests, and (c) they failed to communicate with and seek the aid of the trustworthy people around them.  Only good luck – and the intervention of his family, however much he tried to avoid it – has kept Jon alive longer than Ned.  I participated in an interesting Tumblr discussion the other day (which I have tried and failed to track down for reference here), and one of the other posters put the difference between Jon and Ned in an absolutely ingenious way.  Ned, the poster pointed out, had a “pack” full of children, none of whom could assist him in the way that he needed.  (I’d add to that assertion that he had a brilliant asset in Cat, but she couldn’t be by his side to advise him moment to moment the way he needed to be advised.)  But Jon has a “pack” of peers – fellow young adults with the ability and the influence to help him defeat an enemy he has no hope of taking down on his own.  I absolutely agree with this, and I think Sansa would too.  In fact, she’s already correctly guessed (most of) Jon’s reasoning and begun taking matters into her own hands to help him.  I’d love it if she did even more in the finale, along with Arya and Bran.
After all, they remember, even if Ned and Jon themselves do not, that the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.  They love him even though he’s never been any smarter than Ned.  (Although, of course, he might do better in the future, after Daenerys has been dealt with, to choose a wife like the wife his father married – politically smarter than he is, unafraid to tell him the unvarnished truth when he needs it, and, of course, red-headed.  I don’t think Sansa would mind that, either.)
16 notes · View notes
obsessiveloverboy · 5 years
Note
Oh Bailey is yandere AND tall boy?? jUST TAKE ME NOW-
{{ If you like pale, tall, abusive boys, then he’s the man for you. But I really recommend against it. }}
1.      Anonymous said:
Yoooooo Bailey is so fucking rude. He ain’t
shit!
{{ Ah – Well, you are right? He is rude, but
only really when he knows you’re trying to be snide. }}
2.      Anonymous said:
(So how would bailey react if his s/o did the
ahegao while he was dicking them hard on the bed?)
{{ I see why Mod Alex cries now, these are
really uncomfortable to answer or think about. I think he’d be happy? Maybe
take a picture? Do it more often? }}
3.      Anonymous said:
ARE BAILEY AND MODS AUTISTIC ALLIES???
{{ Wouldn’t it be weird if we weren’t? }}
4.      Anonymous said:
@all mods, what’s your other favorite yandere
ask blog? My favorite is angryandereleon! Both the mod and the characters are
wonderful there. You guys and them are tied for first.
{{ I guess everyone can reblog with their own
answers, but personally, I don’t really like the Yandere trope, I prefer
Kuuderes or Oujideres. But just meaning the blogs, I like the one with Drystan?
I help edit the fanfics in the office and the ones with him are really cute. I
can’t remember the name of the blog though – I’m really sorry, pumpkin. }}
5.      Anonymous said:
Ok hold tf up how does Bailey’s victim clean
themselves? Shower an go to the restroom?
{{ Oh, they can definitely bathe or use the
bathroom, Bailey just has to take them to the restroom and back, if they’re
being really difficult then he’ll be in the room with them. I think when it
comes to bathing, he prefers to kneel by the tub and wash them. }}
6.      Anonymous said:
Bailey seems like the type to run away from
problems or anything that makes him think emotionally such as his past with
Emma. Most likely cuz he doesn’t know how to handle himself emotionally but
also he straight out doesn’t want to get in there he just runs away from it
thinking it ain’t gon bite his dirty ass one day. amiright?
{{ I think if he was forced into confronting his
past outside of a supportive professional setting, he’d be seriously damaged.
Might even block it all out or disassociate to try and cope.  So it’s just easier to run. }}
7.      Anonymous said:
Can’t we just… cancel Bailey and just ctrl-c
Seiichi to a safe place and ctrl-v him there far away from B?
{{ I don’t think you can do that for game code?
I’m not sure, but if you can access the game files, sure, you  can tinker around in there. }}
8.      Anonymous said:
Racheal sounds pretty af and so beautiful while
Issiah sounds like he look like somethings that crawled from the dirty earth
{{ I’ve met the irl inspiration for Rachael and
yes, she is very pretty and kind. Issiah is handsome too, but his living
counterpart is nowhere near as abusive. Just a little jealous some times. }}
9.      Anonymous said:
*Issiah, white male and american who kidnapped
Racheal* Goddammit it’s always an american and the whites who are crazy
{{Not always, but most of the time I think it a
white guy, not necessarily American. I don’t really have any solid statistics
though. }}
 10.   Anonymous said:
B smells so much can literally smell him from
here bring on the frebreze
{{ Mod P and Mod Puppet joke that Bailey smells
like salt and dead people. }}
11.   Anonymous said:
I can’t believe Alex has cried 11 times. God
bless hahahaha. So make it 12 while we’re counting, how big is Bailey in size.
Need dem details my man if ya’ll say 20cm Imma call out on that lie
{{ You’re all so mean to him. And none of us
really wanna answer this one, but judt to get it over with and delete any other
asks about it; He’s pretty average, about 5 – 6 inches. }}
12.   Anonymous said:
Are we gonna get a scenario with bailey being
caught and in trial? I’d love to see him coming together with his wrongdoings
and see the truth
{{ Hehe, no spoilers but we’ve got something in
the works for you all, I hope you’ll like it, it was a group effort. }}
13.   Anonymous said:
Bailey is so patient it’s making me sit and
wonder wtf I am doing. I have such thin patience, I just can’t wait for things
and am very impulsive which I can control a bit better now. But say I was in
love, I wouldn’t want to wait I’d go and just ask or flirt with them. The fact
that Bailey waited 2 years throws me off like why duuuuuuuuude just kidnap them
now. But it makes sense too since it takes time to know a person in and out but
still jfc 2 years you don’t need that much time
{{ I think the amount of time he waits varies
from target to target, someone who is pretty nervous would need more time than
someone who is naturally trusting. }}
14.   Anonymous said:
Who is crazier doe, monks or Bailey? I mean I am
100000000000% sure I’d bang monks and not the stink man. There’s not enough air
freshener for him
{{ I think they’re both different levels, I can’t
really compare the  two but considering
what Bailey does to willing people on the dark web, I think Bailey wins. }}
15.   Anonymous said:
Istg Bailey is so dumb he would most likely get
catfished don’t @ me on this
{{ He’s actually really, really clever! He’s a
nurse after all, but if he never copied human behaviour, he’d be pretty dumb
socially. }}
16.   Anonymous said:
When Bailey knows the truth about his mom and
Emma he’d most likely hate his dad. Like it was the dad’s fault Bailey is like
this, Emma died and his mom is mentally ill why wouldn’t he hate his dad. Yo
can alex write someday a fanfic where this happens to Bailey tho. I mean Bailey
failed at one thing he promised to do to Emma
{{ The promise between Emma and Bailey was that
they’d be together for the rest of their lives. Since Emma passed away Bailey
was technically with her till the end, but she wasn’t with him anymore. So he
takes that as a failure and shortly after, cut off his pinky finger. So you can
imagine how that plus childhood abuse would have affected him, couple that with
finally accepting what really happened – Well, you’ll see. }}
17.   Anonymous said:
Bailey is like a little bitch that went through
puberty but the puberty just never left the chatroom and decided to stay
{{ He’s the human version of Blood on The
Dancefloor. }}
18.   Anonymous said:
I totally feel like if Bailey saw someone who
looked like Emma and if lucky was named Emma he’d kidnap her but not for love,
for platonic sibling relationship. He’d most likely convince himself that Emma
has been reborn but is in the wrong family and needs to be saved and brought
back to her onii-chan again.
{{ Yep, that’s right, pumpkin! He’s a big
believer in rebirth so if he found pretty much a copy of Emma, he’d believe that
and try and make up for his mistakes, but – He’d try to convince that person
they are Emma too and constantly quiz them on what they ‘remember’ till they’re
perfect. }}
19.   Anonymous said:
Emma is such a common name, literally every girl
is named Emma. Here in Sweden, it’s so common. I have met so many Emma’s the
name makes me cringe ugh
{{ Some random named Emma isn’t going to do much
for Bailey, but the name and other similarities will send him panicking. }}
 20.   Anonymous said:
In the end the only reason people like yanderes
or the idea of being with one is because we are afraid of being alone. We don’t
trust ourselves or other people to conform and be with us forever, but a
yandere or anyone abusive we know for a fact will never leave us so it becomes
appealing because we are so sure that “forever” will never happen to
someone like us
{{ Forever is a very long time, I think its
natural to think we’re worth being with for that long. But humans have a
strange habit of taking anything they can get when they’re loved-starved. }}
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