#like do u pass a certain age where u can no longer talk to others as people. like is that it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonesandthebees · 10 months

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Okay longer review for glass ch18 time :DD man what an amazing chapter. Got duped waking up thinking im gonna get crimeboys, and then i got both crimeboys AND sandduo

Im gonna skim reread it as i review

hES USING WILBUR?!?#$ HELP BROO ITS SO SMOOTH AT THIS POINT

There was like one chapter where i caught it and i felt so proud of myself, but after that i just get so invested that i dont even notice until someone points it out lmaooo

I think I did notice when it switched to Pythia, at least subconsciously bc I paused at it and scrolled up a bit to see if it'd always been Pythia but ig I didnt scroll up enough lmaoooo

Ohkygod he switches to Pythia the minute Phil enters the room ohkgyfo u cant be playing around with the narrative like this bee, u are way too smart wtf... I'm still in awe with how flawlessly you play around with the change of name. It's always intentional, and yet it feels so natural when you read it. It doesn't feel like a conscious decision from Wilbur at all, ughh it's so good!!!!

Goddddd I love codependent crimeboys so much bro ohmgydo and u always write it Perfectly ty amen

I think ive said this before but ur just so good at characterization man like helloooo

Each fic!crimeboys are so unique to each other, but you could remove their names and I'd still know they were crimeboys. They still feel like them and ahhh i love them so much

Also bro i totally called Phil waiting for them 😭 it made me so tense LMAOOO

Wilbur fr was like "We're quiet we r chilling!!" Like no sir. No u are not

Its the fact that Phil knew the answer to all his questions, he knew Tommy left him alone aaaaaaaaaaa

I cant do this man theyre all so wheofidbekdhdlkflfek

The fact that neither of them told Phil about the sketchy guy who saw Wilbur is making me so scared tho like noooo guyssss ur already in trouble, just be safe about it and tell the truth noooooo 😭😭😭

Phil is such a dad in this scene ohmygod

Also im laughing, their punishment is they cant talk to each other 😭😭

“Then just close your eyes,” Phil said, almost in the exact same way Tommy had.

Like father, like son [bawls]

Although the Pythia was desperate to know why Phil had paused for so long after seeing his face, he simply nodded, and tried not to flinch when Phil’s free hand grabbed his chin to hold his head still.

Not my dumbass's first thought being "HES HIS SECRET LONG LOST SON" LMFAO FHFJFK

Then i was like "okay no its definitely bc of his age"

Brooo i just want the moment where they see each other without him closing his eyes rahhhhhhhhhssss

Also

I realize i said i was gonna skim reread this chap, but nope im just rereading it properly lmfao 😭😭😭 slow and steady pfff

Its so goood

Now I'll have 2 chapters from glass on speeddial for sure

God every moment of sandduo in this fic is just a parallel of their relationships with their gods im soooo 😭😭😭

When i first started this fic i was so certain that the majority of all Clara's things were just misinterpretations from her followers that got passed down century to century but now atp idek. Im skipping ahead and I'll probs talk more about it at the end of the chapter but like Kristin literally touched Wilbur- Clara's never gotten that close to him. Though maybe it's bc she's not as strongly connected? On both ends... Im rambling here as I theorize so I might not phrase this correctly but, like. My first thought was Phil said blood helped her connect better to the living world, so maybe that's why she can be physically here and not Clara, but I also thought about how maybe it does affect the relationship whether it's mutual or not, right? Cause Phil chose to be with her, there's trust on both ends. Wilbur got thrown into it, and maybe that affects the magic of the connection or smth. Or Clara's a bitch lmaoooo. I always appreciate seeing the god of life being the antagonist. I feel like it's not gonna be black and white though, things are not often with you hahahaha.

God that was a large paragraph whoops. I am certain though, that at least a large portion of the traditions they have (cough not being able to see the face cough) (just being treated as not a person lol), are things both misinterpreted or just plain ol made up to be able to better control the Pythia. Because, who wouldn't want to be able to fully control someone who can see the future? Idk how they'll ever find that out for sure but damn yeah, it's sad. Look at what you've done Bee, you've traumatized a perfectly good boy

Lmaoooo

Is there a limit to how long these things can get?? Spruce how do u separate them into diff parts, do u go by vibes or is there a limit LMFAOOO

Anyways

God. The way Phil knows what Wilburs thinking 😭😭😭 im gonna cryyyy theyre sooo ahdjfkfld

The way you describe all the tiny details, god, your writing feels so real. It feels like it breathes. I feel so immersed in it. I can not only see everything happening around me, I can feel it, as if I were there. I dunno, I just really appreciate all the tiny details you mention, and how you take care to remind us that his eyes are closed by describing the sounds around him, and how you mention him feeling odd when he winces bc of his face being numbed, like ik theyre not a big deal, but those details mean so much to me. They make everything feel so much more alive.

And the way you describe people's thoughts, they're so realistic rahhhhhhss. Your characters always feel truly human

I love your writing so much aaahhh

The cheer i let out when i saw the mate at their 2nd meeting when i read this chap for the first time LMFAOOO

It was at that moment vey knew they were getting a truck load of sandduo--

I had also already forgotten that Phil had told Wilbur he was gonna show him smth lmfaooo

I am starting to get tired fr (it's been almost an hour Oops) so i think i will pull a spruce and split this into two parts and continue after some breakfast or smth LMAOO (pst gang ftw 👆)

Dudududus away into the sunset

I was definitely debating whether or not to start the chapter with him using wilbur, but it just felt right so I went with it and I'm very happy with the tone it gave because it provided such a good tone shift when phil showed up and wilbur switched back to using 'the pythia'. it's such a fun narrative tool to use, though it's definitely a bit exhausting to remember every time i refer to wilbur in narration i'm making a choice with how i refer to him. fun, but a lot to keep in my head

ty I'm so glad my crimeboys feel that distinctive <3

lmao phil was so pissed when they got back. he figured a lot out on his own but wanted to hear it from tommy himself. they really should've told phil about the guy wilbur bumped into tho rip :/

yeah no phil is not wilbur's long lost father or anything. I only think those kinds of twists work in very specific stories, otherwise it just feels like a cheap way to be like "look now these two have a biological reason to care about each other!" and really gives off the vibes of found family being less important than blood family

the thing is regarding wilbur's relationship to clara is that when contrasted with phil's relationship to kristin, i want it to be obvious that it's a two-way relationship. you have to put in what you wanna get out.

LMAO spruce pls share with the class how you split up your asks

ldksjfkl aaa that's so sweet. I love including tiny details like those because I try to make my stories as easy to visualize as possible. I know that when I read something, I want to be able to see the scene perfectly in my head, so I try to emphasize the facial expressions and body language and the setting they're in and all that to really immerse the reader in it

tysm i'm so glad you enjoyed!

#ask #icyfox17 #through a glass divine

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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

hearts intertwined | t.s.

— You and Todoroki have been roommates for months now but have barely had more than a two minute conversation. When quarantine hits and everyone is on lockdown, you find yourself forced to spend more time with him and actually end up...enjoying it?

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader word count: 3,055 genre: roommate au, pro hero!shouto, fluff warnings: suggestive content, 16+, mc and todo are both mid-20s

a/n: this is written as part of the crackhead sanctuary’s server collab! (pls excuse my server name lmfdkgfdg i have terrible naming skillz) i hope y’all enjoy and pls lmk what u think!! xx sof

In many ways, Todoroki Shouto was the perfect roommate.

He cleaned up after himself, always made an extra serving of food and set it aside for you (though it may only have been because he sucked at measuring out ingredients rather than him intentionally planning on leaving you leftovers), and generally kept his volume to a minimum when entering the apartment at ungodly hours of the night.

There was also the fact that he was the most attractive person you had ever shared a living space with in your life, and seeing him shirtless on his way to his bedroom from the bathroom was a definite bonus.

But despite all that, he was never someone you considered yourself close to.

You needed help paying for rent and expenses and he happened to be a friend of a friend of a friend who was looking for a place in the city to stay. Call it a divine intervention, a gift from the gods, or even fate… But you still wouldn’t consider yourself his friend.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to befriend him--Todoroki seemed like a sweet person. It was more along the lines of neither of you having the time. While you spent most of your day in the lab studying and doing research, Todoroki was always working in his office or out in the field to fulfill his new hero duties.

This quarantine was probably the first opportunity either of you had to be in the same building for more than thirty minutes at a time. Which was why, as the two of you sat side-by-side on the living room sofa, no one knew exactly what to say.

“So, the weather--”

“Looks warm out--”

Both of you opened your mouths and shut them at the same time.

“Sorry,” Todoroki said with a small smile. “You first.”

“I-- Oh… It was nothing,” you managed, clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “Just trying to make some small talk.”

With a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes, you slowly craned your head away from his view. Who admits they’re trying to make small talk? That breaks all the rules of how to properly talk to someone.

The faint sound of the television playing old infomercials buzzed in the background while you and your roommate sat in silence. You never struggled to talk to him during those brief moments of passing, so why now?

Looking at the screen to pass time, you noticed an outdated commercial of an older Tamagotchi game playing and felt yourself breaking out into a grin.

“Aw, I miss that game!” you cried as you turned to Todoroki with an excited glint in your eye. “Don’t tell anyone, but in elementary school I used to play it in class and since I was such a goody two-shoes, the teacher never suspected a thing.”

He raised an eyebrow in response. “I see we have ourselves a rebel in disguise here.”

“It’s our little secret, though. To everyone else, I am the epitome of innocence.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze travelled down your body and lingered on where the fabric of your oversized pajama shirt stopped and the expanse of your thigh started.

“Sure. I believe you,” he said in what was almost a teasing tone.

You felt your face growing hot but you paid it no mind.

“As you should,” you sniffed, crossing one leg over the other haughtily. When he chuckled, you turned back to him. “How about you? Are you a secret bad boy who played with his Tamagotchi in the back of class?”

Todoroki shook his head. “I never had one. I actually never even knew what it was until high school, I think.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened. Sure, the hand-held game was marketed to girls, but to never have heard about it through your whole childhood? You weren’t sure how that was possible. “Not even your older sister had one?”

Now, you didn’t know much about his personal life (whether or not he was dating someone, if he slept on the left or the right side of the bed, which leg he put in his pants first, et cetera), but you did pick up on a few things about his siblings from the previous interactions you’ve had with him.

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, looking away thoughtfully. “My father never afforded us such luxuries.”

You frowned. “What about toys like Pokemon? Oh! Or Yu-Gi-Oh cards?”

“Yu-Gi-Oh cards?” repeated Todoroki slowly, as if he was unsure what you were talking about.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “You never played--? Oh, never mind. How about family games like Twister or Just Dance?”

As far as you were aware, Todoroki Shouto came from a rather affluent family. So it was a wonder why he never participated in at least one of these experiences that characterized a whole generation’s childhood.

Again, he shook his head. “Never did those either. I wasn’t exactly allowed to play with my siblings, let alone other kids my age. My father always made me prioritize my training.”

“That’s not right of him.”

You winced. Of course he never had the opportunity to have a “normal” childhood. How could you be so insensitive? It was no secret Endeavor had a troubled relationship with his family, but you weren’t exactly sure to what extent. You didn’t focus much on the whimsical world of heroes and, ever since you were a child, you know you wanted to pursue the field of research rather than use your quirk. The lives of heroes--even top ranking ones--was something you never paid much attention to. Still, even you have heard some gossip about the estranged Endeavor.

“Sorry for pressing you,” you said, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug and a small smile to let you know it was okay.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/L/N. You didn’t mean to,” he comforted. “Besides, it’s been a long time. It would be useless to hold a grudge against my father for this long.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Forgiveness, huh? That’s very mature of you, Todoroki. I think I admire you.”

His shoulders moved upward in silent laughter. “Thank you. I admire you, too.”

Ignoring the faint heat you felt in your cheeks, you beamed. “Thanks. Anyway-- You know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“You did not have a childhood.”

While his face remained passive, you could have sworn you saw his eye crinkle in amusement.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” he said in agreement. “My youth was spent quite differently than most.”

You nodded profusely. “Right. And while I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with that, per se, it could be beneficial to do these things you haven’t had the chance to!”

He examined you curiously as you bounced up from your seat on the sofa with an excited grin. After a few moments of silence, he craned his neck, prompting you for clarification.

“You’re bored on lockdown, I’m bored on lockdown,” you stated matter-of-factly. “What better time to reclaim your childhood than now?”

Todoroki didn’t bother to hide the small smile making its way across his face at your determined words. “Okay, then. Count me in.”

- - - - -

When you decided you wanted to help your new friend Todoroki reclaim his childhood, you expected your days to be full of cute Beanie Babies and Webkinz, as well as the presumed amounts of chaos that followed edible bubbles and candy kits. And while the first few days of the week consisted of that, the tone changed rather drastically when a certain game was introduced. Of all things, what you expected least was to be practically panting on top of Shouto as you braced your muscles and tried not to collapse onto him.

“Left hand, blue,” he called after flicking the spinner.

How he managed to turn the spinner with one hand and keep his body balanced with the other on a Twister mat without toppling over was a mystery to you.

Stupid heroes with their stupid, bulging muscles, you thought crossly as you relived your many previous losses. You tried to ignore the bead of sweat dripping down your face as you struggled to stay up.

Somehow, you turned your head just enough that you had the perfect view of Todoroki’s flexed triceps as he held himself in a modified pushup position of sorts. There was a look of concentration on his face and, while you found his furrowed brows to be rather cute, you still couldn’t help but focus your attention on his arms. He had a lean type of muscle that you thought would feel especially comfortable wrapped around your waist--

“Y/L/N, do you forfeit?”

You blinked, feeling lightheaded both from this game which you lacked the stamina for and from the lack of oxygen that travelled to your brain as you held your breath while staring at Todoroki.

Once your mind processed his words, you huffed. “Forfeit! Me? Never! Why would you think that?”

“Because I called ‘left hand, blue,’ minutes ago and you still haven’t moved.”

Blood rushed to your face and you were thankful you had the exertion to blame it on. It wasn’t your fault Todoroki’s arms were so toned and strong and...distracting.

“No,” you said, unsure if there was even a question asked for you to reply to. “I don’t quit!”

Your eyes scanned the mat feverishly, looking for a blue circle to place your left hand on that would cause the least amount of strain. Shouto had already won the first two rounds and you’d be damned if you were to let him win again. (As much as you loved witnessing him succeed, your pride would simply be too hurt if you lost a third time in a row.)

“Find a spot yet?” he asked in amusement. “I’m not sure how much longer my arms can hold.”

Of course, just the mention of his arms drew your attention from finding the optimal Twister position to staring stupidly at his triceps again.

As you attempted to tear your gaze away from him, you spotted hints of a smirk lingering on Todoroki’s face.

Did he notice your staring? There was no way…

You looked at him, wide-eyed and dubious, and almost choked when you saw his shoulders start to shake as he tried to hide his laughter.

His laugh was muffled by his shirt in an attempt to keep his volume down, but it still rang rich and deep in the air. It was the first time you heard him laugh like that and you wanted to do anything to hear it again.

With a shake of his head, he removed his hands from their spot on the Twister board and sat upright beside you.

“I concede,” he said when he saw you eyeing him with curiosity. “You win this round. My arms were getting too sore.”

After hearing the sweet sound of Todoroki saying, “You win,” you let yourself collapse on the floor, rolling onto your back to get a clear view of your cream-colored ceiling.

“For some reason, I sincerely doubt that your arms were getting sore,” you said, stretching your own--genuinely sore--arms out in front of you. “But seeing as I was about to fall flat on my face if I waited any longer… Thank you for conceding.”

“Doubt I’d be sore?” he repeated, craning his neck to peer down at your face. He placed his left hand on his right bicep and gently massaged it with his thumb and forefinger. “What for?”

By then, whatever rational thought was left in your brain had been fully replaced by Shouto’s arms and Shouto’s arms only, and you couldn’t even complain.

“Mmm, what did you say again?” You blinked, clearing your throat. You suddenly had the desire to chug a cool glass of water.

Todoroki’s only reply was another small--almost imperceptible--smirk. It would have been easy for someone to miss, but to you, someone who was perhaps being more attentive to their roommate and newfound friend than they’d care to admit, it was clear as day.

“You’re totally messing with me!” you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you continued to lie with your back on the floor. “Aren’t you?”

He let out a breathy laugh and shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “Sorry. It’s just cute seeing your reactions. I didn’t know you liked my arms so much.”

You could’ve sworn he flexed once more for dramatic effect and an indignant squeak escaped your mouth.

“I-I don’t!” you protested, making sure to look anywhere but his arms. “I just never noticed how...proportionate they were before! Just thinking about how da Vinci would admire them. For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Sure.”

You gaped at the knowing look on his face. “How did you even notice? Aren’t you a bit of the oblivious type?” With wide eyes, you slapped your hand over your mouth. “Wait-- I’m sorry. That was rude to say.”

Todoroki waved it off with a smile to show he wasn’t offended in the slightest. “I guess I was rather oblivious in the beginning of high school. But as I grew up I became more accustomed to picking up on such things.”

You hummed in silent contemplation. Of course he had to have grown used to people making moon eyes over him. He probably got it all the time.

“I usually pay it no mind,” he continued as he stood up, peering down at you sprawled out on the floor. “But when you do it, I find it sort of cute.”

As if he didn’t just say something that caused your heart to skip a beat, Todoroki extended a hand out to help you up.

Ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, you gently placed your hand in his.

“Thanks,” you murmured as Shouto pulled you off the mat and towards his body, a feeling of lightheadedness overcoming you at the sudden motion.

One hand held yours while his other was placed firmly above your elbow to help you steady yourself.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he watched you regain your balance.

“Oh, yeah! No worries. This happens all the time, to be honest,” you admitted, vaguely taking note of how your chest was almost fully pressed against his. “Whenever I move my head too fast I get a bit dizzy. And whenever I stand too fast my knees sort of just crack.”

Your words did nothing to soothe the worried furrow between his brows.

“Is...Is that not normal?”

He blinked.

You grimaced. “Okay. Guess not. Maybe I need to work out more.”

“You can work out indoors with me,” Todoroki suggested with a small smile. He looked so sincere you were just about to agree until he opened his mouth for a second time-- “As long as you don’t spend the whole workout gawking at my arms.”

With an indignant cry, you pulled yourself away from his loose grip, face burning with such intensity you wouldn’t be surprised if he were able to sense the rise in temperature. “I never gawked at your arms.”

He hummed.

“Well, okay, maybe I did,” you relented with a huff, bending down to fold up the game mat in front of you. “They look very strong. Being a hero must be hard work.”

Todoroki shrugged, helping you clean up. “It’s worth the toll it takes. I can imagine your research requires hard work too.”

You tried to hide the look of surprise on your face. You briefly talked to him about what you did during the roommate-finding process, but you didn’t think it was anything interesting enough for him to recall. It brought an odd warmth to your stomach knowing he cared enough to remember.

“I guess. But I’d say it’s nowhere near as difficult as hero work,” you brushed off. “Not everyone has what it takes to be a good hero.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he followed you into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“There are lots of great heroes,” he stated, filling up two cups and handing one to you.

“Yeah, there are. And greatness is one thing, but you’re a good one-- In the heart.” Your gaze flitted to his, unsure why you were filled with the sudden urge to have such an intimate conversation after a game of Twister. Still, you rolled with it. “I know we haven’t talked much prior to this lockdown...but even I can tell how caring you are. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.”

A comfortable silence filled the air as he took a seat beside you. If Shouto was taken aback by your sudden compliment, he did a good job at hiding it, simply giving you a small smile as he let his shoulder rest against yours. You glanced over at the point of contact and bubbled with elation.

“Todoroki?” you called quietly, the edge of your pinky brushing against his.

He looked down at the gentle touch of your hand and didn’t move away. Instead, he took the initiative and placed his fingers on top of yours, his hand surprisingly soft despite the calluses on his fingertips. The back of your neck heated at the sudden movement, but you decided you rather liked how his hands felt on yours.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for letting me drag you along to play these childhood games,” you said, letting out a sigh of contentment. “It’s a nice change of pace while we’re stuck indoors.”

Shouto shook his head. “I should be the one thanking you. These are much better childhood memories than the ones from my actual childhood,” he admitted with a light laugh. “I’m glad we had the opportunity to spend more time together, Y/L/N.”

By now your fingers were intertwined with his, his thumb lightly stroking the peak of your knuckle.

He continued, “I hope this continues even when quarantine is over.”

“I hope it does, too.” You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading wide across your face as you nuzzled your head on his shoulder. “Let’s keep making memories together, okay, Todoroki?”

“Happily.”

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kae-karo · 3 years

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Kaeya and/or Diluc with the banter prompt "don't tempt me" or "you didn't answer my question"

thank u eternally dear anon for giving me the always-appreciated opportunity to write some kaeluc >:} (send me one of these prompts and a genshin character!)

make me melt again - T - 2k

tags: stranded on a desert island, no i haven’t done the event stuff yet, idk if we even get to that part by the time i post this, but i was inspired, kaeluc reconciliation, canon divergence

[read on ao3]

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one? You’ve asked an incessant number of them over the past-” Diluc cuts his words off there. Past how long? The sun has set, of course, so he can be relatively certain that some hours have passed, but the exact number is as yet undeterminable.

And Kaeya is doing his best to make it feel eons longer.

“Have you even been paying attention?” Kaeya chides, coughs out a laugh. How he’s finding this amusing, Diluc isn’t entirely certain. This is very far from enjoyable, though he supposes it isn’t the worst situation he’s ever ended up in.

“I tend to tune out when you speak,” Diluc says as he glances over the fire to where Kaeya watches him, brow quirked.

“Hardly an afternoon on a deserted island, and you’re already rather feisty,” Kaeya says with a laugh. “How long until you raise a sword against me again?”

It’s the again that does it, that snaps Diluc’s neutral, unbothered composure. His jaw tics with irritation - of all the people to end up stuck on an island with, it had to be Kaeya, didn’t it? The one person among an entire world who happens to be particularly adept at pushing his buttons.

“You’re welcome to reminisce to your heart’s content,” he grits out, “but I have little interest in rehashing the past.” There is a reason he put all of that behind him, sequestered all his hurt behind an iron wall and locked it away. He does not need it rearing its ugly head now, when they’ve-

Perhaps not reconciled, but they are at an understanding of sorts. They are able to be in each others’ presence without causing problems, though he supposes such a tenuous alliance might crumble under the weight of hours spent on a deserted island.

With nobody to talk to but Kaeya, and nobody to intervene should things turn any less civil.

Not that Diluc will be the one to raise a hand against Kaeya. Never again - he has long passed that place, that dark well of heartache and betrayal. Teyvat moved on, and so Diluc moved on with it. He presumes that Kaeya has moved on as well.

“It was not a particularly pleasant evening,” Kaeya says, his words accented with the crack of a splitting log. Sparks fly up between them, and Diluc catches Kaeya’s eye. Immediately drops his gaze to the dark pit of the burning logs.

“I don’t care to reminisce over it either,” Kaeya adds once the fire has settled. His voice sounds...different. Quieter, less...gods, he can’t believe he’s dredging this word up in relation to Kaeya, but it’s less seductive. So very unlike Kaeya, or at least, the Kaeya that Diluc knows now.

He wasn’t always like that, so inclined to charm every person he meets. So flippant with his flirting that it sets Diluc’s nerves on edge just to be near him.

“We never really talked about it, did we?” Kaeya’s voice carries a hint of humor, and an outright invitation to talk about it now, in spite of his words just a moment ago. Diluc clenches his jaw, fights back the hundred-and-one questions that had burned in his chest after that night. It has taken a very long time to quiet them, and he does not particularly think that they bear any relevance now.

“What is there to discuss,” Diluc says, and means it rhetorically. Kaeya shifts, sticks a leg out and toes his boot off.

“A lot of things, I think.” His other boot joins the first a safe distance from the fire along with his socks, and Kaeya pulls his knees up and leans back on his hands as his toes dig into the sand. “You kissed me the night before that.”

Diluc’s gaze flicks to the side, to the ocean, and he stares hard at the soft flicker of the moon’s reflection on distant waves.

‘And what if I want to?’ Kaeya’d asked. What if he did want to kiss Diluc, then what?

‘Well...I wouldn’t stop you…’ The bravest Diluc could get, even with Kaeya. Far less terrifying to face a horde of hilichurls than to admit how desperately, in that moment, he’d wanted Kaeya to kiss him.

‘But you don’t want me to, do you?’ Bait, he knew it even then, but it didn’t stop him from riding that spark of defiance as far as it would take him. Far enough to lean into Kaeya, push him against the nearest wall and press his lips to Kaeya’s.

“So you do remember,” Kaeya says quietly - this Kaeya, in the present. On a deserted island across a dying fire from Diluc, after so very many years of careful avoidance.

“Of course I do.” How could he forget the rush of heat flooding his veins, the spark in his chest flaring to life at the taste of Kaeya’s lips? The desperate hands at his waist, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt. His own hands searching, too, clinging to Kaeya like he’d dreamed about doing for ages.

No, he might bury it deep in his chest, but moments like those do not disappear entirely.

“But you think that’s not something we need to discuss, is that it?” Kaeya quips easily, and Diluc glances back to find his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, now, his scarf and cape discarded. He looks...lighter, this way. Unburdened, but not by the weight of his excessive accessorizing. More that he seems unburdened by the weight of the persona, the facade.

And out here, who would he have to pretend for? Diluc has certainly never believed the performance.

“I think it happened a very long time ago.” And…

And what? He hears it in his tone, the unfinished nature of his statement. And Diluc fears to even discuss that night, for the fact that it might dredge up feelings he has never quite managed to destroy? He can hardly say that to Kaeya, he’d never hear the end of it.

To Diluc’s surprise, though, Kaeya only hums. Stares into the distance beyond Diluc for a long moment, his gaze unfocused. How does he remember that night? Fondly?

“It must’ve been easy, then.” A pause, intentional, and Diluc refuses to rise to the bait. He waits, and Kaeya continues after another beat of silence. “To cast me out if you never truly felt anything for me.”

The meaning of his words processes slowly, leisurely, a perfect match for the faint breeze that twists through Kaeya’s hair, carries on to brush against Diluc’s cheeks. The soft moment splits in two at the sound of another cracking log, and Diluc grits his teeth.

“Is that what you believe?” His words come out on a harsh breath, low and quiet. Kaeya leans forward, wraps his arms around his knees.

“Is it not true?” Bait, Diluc’s mind supplies unhelpfully, but he will not let Kaeya sit here and tell him that it was easy, that Kaeya meant nothing to him.

That it did not break his heart when Kaeya told the truth of his past.

“It is not,” Diluc says shortly, and he dares to level a stare at Kaeya. Kaeya meets his gaze in turn, and by all accounts, it should be flippant. Should be easy and light, and Kaeya should scoff and dismiss Diluc’s words.

The stare he gives is not any of those things, though. Kaeya watches intensely, with sharp focus and tensed muscles, and Diluc is not entirely prepared to handle the sudden weight of his gaze.

A subtle, faint smile flickers to the edge of Kaeya’s lips, a daring thing for how rigid he looks right now.

“Tell me it hurt,” he says then, quiet. Voice laced with a years-old ache that Diluc feels in his chest, and he’s seventeen again - eighteen, almost, just about. Tomorrow. But right now, he and Kaeya find a hidden alcove in the back of the library, and Kaeya kisses him until he can’t catch his breath.

“It hurt.” The words hurt, too, but he says them. Speaks them to the fire and knows that they pass through the flames to reach Kaeya.

“Did you regret it?” Cautious, probing. Diluc blows out a breath.

“For a very long time, I did not.” His gaze flicks up, just enough to meet Kaeya’s for a brief moment before he turns toward the ocean again. “I feel...differently now.”

The closest he can bear to admitting that he lost not one, but two irreplaceable people in his life that night. And that one loss was entirely his own fault, even if he’s learned to forgive himself for his father’s death.

“Time changes things,” Kaeya agrees, and Diluc watches from the corner of his eye as Kaeya shifts, climbs to his feet. “Care to see if it’s changed anything else?”

Diluc’s heart catches up to the words a moment too late, then redoubles its efforts at the idea of what Kaeya could be implying. He swallows, inhales dying fire smoke and grasps within his mind for anything to steady him.

A hand appears before him, then, the lifeline doomed to drag him under, and Diluc’s gaze drifts up to find Kaeya standing over him, a gentle smile on his lips. Not teasing, not put-upon or overly seductive.

Just Kaeya.

And oh, Diluc’s heart aches, begs him to reach out and take Kaeya’s hand.

“There’s nobody here,” Kaeya says softly. “Just us.”

Diluc lets his gaze fall again, back to Kaeya’s outstretched hand. He shifts carefully, lets his heart guide his hand to take Kaeya’s. And oh, the way his heart races when Kaeya’s smile widens.

He pulls Diluc to his feet, then huffs out an amused breath that puts Diluc immediately on guard.

“Are you not sweltering?” Kaeya’s free hand tugs gently at the lapel of his jacket, though, and Diluc’s brows furrow.

“Trying to undress me?” he asks, entirely deadpan, but it pulls such a sweet laugh from Kaeya’s lips that Diluc has to fight a grin of his own.

“I’m trying to prevent heatstroke, but don’t tempt me.” An amused warning, and Diluc sucks in a sharp breath at the hand that skates across his chest, the thumb that hooks around the inside of his jacket. “May I?”

Diluc holds his breath, finds it impossible to do anything but nod.

He will admit - though not to Kaeya - that he’s grateful for the cool night breeze that his jacket had kept at bay. Kaeya sets it alongside his own discarded accessories, then glances down at Diluc’s feet.

“Fine,” Diluc grumbles as he sets about removing his boots as well. At this rate, Kaeya won’t be satisfied til he’s-

A flush crawls up Diluc’s cheeks, and he rushes to discard his boots and socks alongside Kaeya’s. And, to his relief, Kaeya seems to find Diluc’s state of partial undress satisfactory. Again, he extends a hand, and Diluc does not hesitate to take it this time.

He leads Diluc across the sand, vaguely in the direction of the water, and Diluc takes a moment to- to miss this. The comfort of Kaeya’s presence, when it’s so often been little more than an irritation. He lets his steps waver closer to Kaeya, until they walk with their shoulders brushing. Kaeya does not pull away.

The water is cold when they reach it - or, rather, when it reaches them. It curls its way up the shore to meet them, and Kaeya draws to a stop as it swallows his feet for a moment. Diluc turns to watch him, to watch the sea breeze whip at his hair and pull it back from his face.

His eye remains closed for a long moment, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hand tightens in Diluc’s in the short second before he opens his eye again, catches Diluc staring. His smile widens.

“What do you think, Luc?” Diluc’s heart stops beating for a breath. “Has anything changed?”

He steps closer, hears his blood rushing in time with the waves, and lifts his hand to Kaeya’s cheek. Thinks that he missed this, that he did not expect to ever have it again. To ever want it again, but here it is. Here he is, and here Kaeya is.

And once again, he does not answer Kaeya’s question. Just leans in, lets his lips brush Kaeya’s, and melts into the feeling of Kaeya pressed against him.

No, he might’ve said. Everything has changed, but not this. Never this.

#genshin #genshin impact #kaeluc #luckae #kaeya #diluc #genshin fic #prompts

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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 3 years

Text

The Theory About Steven, Pink-Steven And Their Mom

I was originally going to sign back on later after talking about well the other stuff I had posted and I wanted to wait to post the talk about the theory about Steven, Pink-Steven and Rose.

I first wanted to sign back in to edit one of the tags in the last post I had posted before I sign out, but then I decided to talk about the theory about Steven.

okay first of all we know the Crossover theory

about Sans and Steven being one and the same.

and Steven Quartz Universe spells out “Sans”

and it is possible that while one version of Steven never became Sans,

such as a version that lived in the Deltarune Timeline, and the Sans we see in that game might very well be a version of Steven that became Sans and is from the Undertale Genocide Timeline, that never had a neutral or pacifist run.

and Sans, his little brother and the rest of the survivors of that non-stop geno timeline had to escape into the Deltarune Timeline.

where there was another him, but the him that was born there was still Steven and never became a Sans.

anyway back to the theory about Steven, Pink-Steven and Rose.

even if it is said that Rose gave up her form to bring Steven into the world,

but what if that is only half true, we know that Pink-Steven

when he was reforming, he first appeared as Pink Diamond, Then Rose Quartz and lastly as Steven.

I believe that Pink-Steven might really be a Fragment from Rose,

when a soul is fragmented, it is likely to become a new being, one that isn’t 100% the same as their soul-parent.

we know that Rose has lied before, and she even kept what she did to Spinel a secret from the rest of the Crystal Gems.

I believe that Pink-Steven saying that she’s Gone, has more meaning than just her being “dead” and he might know what really happen to her.

in theory when Rose was still pregnant with Steven,

she secretly made another Pink Diamond that she put inside herself

and let it bond to Steven, then she fragmented a part of herself and place it in the New Pink Diamond that would be part of Steven.

then once again Rose fakes her death, and went to parts unknown.

maybe she could of escape to the Dark World in the Deltarune Timeline.

I do have another theory about the Dark World, that it might be the very place that Gaster was lost through Time and Space in.

we know that in the Chapter 1, when Susie and Kris got back there was no one at school and it was just them.

and Toriel calls when Kris is about to leave the school.

it is a theory, but it is possible when Kris and Susie entered that world...

their existence was forgotten, like at first they would be remembered,

and those who have been to the Dark World (or Dark Worlds) like them

will be able to be immune to the whole forgetting their existence.

so it is possible while Kris and Susie go back to Dark World,

and a hour passes when they are still there,

the only ones who will be able to remember them and freakout about everyone forgetting them....would be Noelle and Berdly.

since those two had ended up in the Cyber-Dark World.

they might end up becoming immune to the effects the Dark World/Void.

if Berdly asks whats taking Susie and Kris so long,

I would imagine that everyone (but Noelle) would look at him like he was crazy and wondering who are Kris and Susie.

so yeah I believe that the Dark World, might be the Void.

and it has the ability to cause those outside it, to get amnesia of a person who enters that world....

the only way someone from the outside can remember, is if they been to that place before and were able to escape.

back to the talk about Steven, if Steven becomes Sans in one of the possible ways....either being resurrected or reincarnation.

the half that is Pink-Steven would still end up existing,

both halves being cleaved.

if Steven ended up having his age flux dangerously while he was in the middle of dying, then at his last moments he could of ended up becoming a baby.

and Gaster could of found the Baby Sans and ended up becoming his new dad.

or Steven could of been reborn as Gaster’s son, there can be different theories on how Steven becomes Sans.

but no matter the theories,

he would always end up becoming the big brother to Papyrus.

if Steven did become a Baby again, and became Baby Sans.

his memories of his past with his Ex-Dad, Connie and the Crystal Gems.

might not resurface until a few years later, maybe not until after Papyrus was born.

I know not all fans will agree, but it is possible that Pink-Steven isn’t just a reincarnation of Pink/Rose, and might just be a fragment from her that she placed into a new pink diamond she created and had it bond to her human child, that she and Greg would either name Steven or Nora.

Pink-Steven yelling out that “She’s Gone” might have more meaning,

like he knew she didn’t “die” or just retreated into the gem she gave to Steven.

I believe the Pink Diamond that Steven has, is truly his and was possibly made by Rose and Pink-Steven was a creation of hers by taking a fragment of her consciousness light and placing the very small fragment into the newly created Pink Diamond.

if that were true, that would mean that Rose is still alive and hiding.

and she made her friends, Greg and her own Son believe she had truly gave up her physical form and she gave her life to bring Steven into the world.

only Pink-Steven, the other half of Steven would know this very big secret.

it’s okay that not all fans agree about this theory being possibly true.

and it’s alright that no one agrees about the dark world we see in Deltarune,

is really the void that makes others outside it, forget those who enter it.

but it would explain why no one was truly worried about Susie and Kris when they didn’t come back to class for hours.

and the only time they did show worry, was when they came back from the dark world and everyone remembered their existence.

it is possible that Susie, Kris and maybe some of the Darkners/Tulpa

have no idea that the Dark World makes those outside it forget a person’s existence and the only way to undo it is if they return.

I’m gonna stick to my headcanon theory, that has to do with how before the Player/Red Soul ended up using Kris as a vessel.

the Knight had taken over Kris at some point, and would get them into trouble and even did some dangerous pranks, like with the ferris wheel.

the purpose we have in the game, is to free Kris from Knight and have them bond with others and form strong friendships.

but if we choose to go down the Geno Path, we end up becoming partners with Knight.

I had to watch clips from Chapter 2 to find out certain stuff that I missed when finally being able to play it myself.

I believe that the Ralsei we meet in Chapter 2, is not the same one we first meet in Chapter 1, and the real fluffy prince is in imprisoned and the Ralsei we meet in Chapter 2 is trying to fool us into believing they are the one we befriended before.

I know a lot of fans might of wondered if Ralsei is hiding a dark secret.

and it turning out that he is the bad guy, but that might only be half true.

the Ralsei in Chapter 2 might turn out to be secretly a bad guy who is working for the Knight.

but as for the Ralsei in Chapter 1, he could turn out to truly care about Kris and knows that the Player/Red Soul was placed in them, in order to save them from Knight and to take away their control over Kris.

Knight might only get back control during a Geno Route in the Dark World,

and even during the Nighttime when Kris returns home.

it is possible while the Knight has control of Kris, they allow them to eat the Pie.

Kris might possibly have three souls in them, one belonging to them, the other being the Knight who was making their life miserable, and lastly the Player.

the Player can go down the Geno Route, but in doing so would be adding the misery to Kris, and they wouldn’t just have one soul that wasn’t theirs that is making their life a nightmare, but two instead.

we know that Steven was very confused about the thoughts if he was his Mom or not, and it turns out he isn’t her, but he could still have a fragment of her

that ended up becoming Pink-Steven.

no one has to agree about this theory being true, but I believe that Pink-Steven isn’t just a reincarnation of Rose but is really a fragment from her that Rose created, along with a new diamond.

Steven’s relationship with his mother, is already estranged and it can be possible he doesn’t view her as much of a hero to look up to as he did when he was a kid, same goes for how bad things got for him and Greg.

I’m sure that while some who watched that episode on Steven Universe Future,

where Greg showed Steven the House he grew up in, think Greg made the right choice by leaving......well I’m not sure if others feel that way but I’m just guessing.

but I believe Greg was slightly in the wrong, even if his parents tried to do their best, they could of still explained why he wasn’t allowed to have certain things.

I did mention before about the theory that one of Greg’s parents

might of had a sensitive hearing and couldn’t handle loud music,

and Greg kept having the volume up and even though one or both his parents told him to stop it and to keep it down, he ignored them and kept the volume up.

and there could of been a good reason why they gave him meatloaf,

even if too much of it might be possibly bad.

Greg might of had a habit of misbehaving, and that is why his parents had to be even more strict with him.

we know that Pink Diamond, before she became Rose and when she faked her death and poof and reformed, the Rose Quartz disguise was no longer a disguise and that form became her real form the moment she reformed after Pink Diamond was “shattered” and we know before all that happen,

Pink would always misbehave and Blue would have to place her in the tower.

while Pink could of had some unfair moments where she was punished for the wrong reasons, other times the punishments were fair and something she needed.

but it would of been best to just ground her in her room,

and only use the tower if necessary, like to block out her destructive powers.

I believe the tower was made to block out Pink’s destructive powers.

Rose was both a good and bad person, but she could be a bit insensitive

and didn’t know how much Blue, Yellow and White loved her.

or how much Spinel loved her,

or how Pink Pearl aka “Lily” (Fanon) or Volleyball (Canon) loved her

and defended her actions when she ended up hurting them.

even Pearl was hurt by her, and she didn’t want to believe that she would hurt Lily, but then at some point in that episode where they tried to fix Lily,

Pearl had open her eyes to the damage that Rose (when she was Pink Diamond) had done.

after what happen with Steven, and even seeing that his problems had first started in the first series, Rose had caused him some emotional pain.

it doesn’t help that his family, Greg and the Crystal Gems are partly responsible.

even if they love him, they kinda half neglected his human needs.

even if they ended up taking care of most of his human needs....

Greg is at the most fault for not taking Steven to a doctor for his human half,

and Doctor Mahaswaren was in the right to be upset at Greg.

she mentions the unhealthy and healthy stress and the trauma done to Steven’s body, and how he always feels attacked.

I don’t think Sadie, Lars, Connie or others who knew Greg, knew anything about how Steven was being raised might be actually hurting him.

there is something called balance, Steven could still do Gem stuff

but he should make sure to give himself a break and do more human stuff.

some who have been in the same or slightly different feelings that Steven goes through in Steven Universe Future, end up relating to Steven and understand the bad feelings aren’t so easy to get rid of and don’t just go away as fast as we want them to.

if you get a another depression after getting better from the first one,

it might end up becoming worse and might go through some stages

and it will take way longer to get better.

you could try to act like everything is fine, and even if there are people and the stuff that interest you that still makes you feel a bit happy, the bad feeling is still there and it can hurt.

not like the hurt you feel when you get a cut or if you end up with a bruise on your arm and depending how hard your arm got hit, the inside of the arm will feel a bit sore and you will have to use ice and when the bruise starts to change color means it is getting better.

the type of hurt that has nothing to do with those two, has to do with your very soul and emotions I think.

like a build up of too much negative energy that is only hurting you on the inside.

I know there was more than one things that were getting to me that day,

and because of a fight, it was the breaking point.

I didn’t like it when the words I was trying to explain before ended up being misinterpreted and I had to give up on trying to explain.

I learned that it is a bad idea for someone who had a few months of depression, to end up with another depression on another year that might be close to the one that they had the first one and had got better too.

it could end up becoming way worse.

plus it can hurt when you feel like your family don’t listen to you,

and might make you feel they don’t love you as much, even if they do love you, they might make you feel like they don’t when they can’t understand about certain concerns and you might feel heart broken at thoughts that you try to tell them but they wont listen or they try to tell you that isn’t true.

I mean I still love my family, but it feels like they don’t listen to me half the time.

I think it is possible when our family don’t listen when we needed it,

it can end up hurting us emotionally and it might cause us to not trust them with certain things anymore.

we can still trust them, but not like how we use to.

like with my whole Ficto-Aroaceflux and then going through a type of chrysalis stage that has my inner me trying to figure out if I’m more of a Gyno-Agender

or Feminine-Nonbinary.

and I know I can’t tell my family about me believing in a Goddess too.

I still believe in God and even Jesus, but now I believe in Goddess.

at first I started to go by Neo-Christian with the whole Ma-Acolyte

(which the “MA” stands for Mother of All Angels.)

but now I go by Neo-Spiritual.

and I can’t tell my Mom that I am a Asexual Flux type.

there are some Aces who can be Bi or Pan or Hetero.

the Asexuality should not be confused for the Asexual Reproduction.

just because they both use the word “Asexual” doesn’t mean they will be the same.

Steven not talking about his feelings or if he does, it doesn’t go into how bad it has gotten for him.

ended up with him having a really REALLY bad breaking point.

and it caused him to view himself as a Monster and ended up corrupting himself.

there are some things that we can share with family and friends,

but some things we keep to ourselves.

anyway I’m gonna go sign off now, I will sign back later or tomorrow.

I hope some of you agree about the theory about the Dark World really being the Void, and the whole Pink-Steven really being a fragment from Rose and the diamond that Steven has, is really a new diamond that Rose created so she could once again fake her death and go into hiding.

we know that Pink had the ability to create gems from dirt and made a very real looking pink diamond shards.

so it is logical to believe that she created a new pink diamond and place a fragment from herself, into it and made everyone believe she gave up her form when she had Steven.

if Sans and Pink-Steven became separate beings, but still being related...

and Sans still having traces of gem in soul.

Pink-Steven could end up meeting Sans again, and might decide to tell him the truth about their Mother, how she made both of them, and how the Diamond that everyone believed was Rose/Pink’s Gem was really a new pink diamond she created and made everyone believe she had died when giving up her form to bring Steven into the world.

we know that Rose had kept secrets before, this would just be another secret that fans would of had to figure out, I mean if it is true.

but it is still a theory, but it is a theory that I see as headcanon.

not everyone has to agree about it being true, not everyone has to agree on the same headcanon and that’s okay.

I’m going to go watch Steven Universe now,

and later I’m going to play Deltarune.

see ya later and stay safe everyone.

#steven quartz universe #pink steven #rose quartz #pink diamond #fragment #sans the skeleton #steven universe theory #undertale theory #deltarune theory #spoilers #dark world #void #Headcanon

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xsugarysweetsx · 4 years

Text

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 2

A/N: Characters are above the age of 18! Iwaizumi is set as 21 and, reader is 19 turning 20!!

Warnings; Mean/rude/slightly cruel Iwaizumi, slight cursing, arguments, feeling lonely, (pretty much it). A little longer

Rating: 18+ (because of future context)

Previous Next

°°°° °°°° °°°°

“So you’re my bride, this may be interesting” he snarled. “Well...do you have a name?”

“It’s Y/N...” you keep your gaze low and anywhere but his eyes. Now being in his presence not only did you feel his power but something else. It was almost....guarded? As if he was hiding something...

“Y/N....your friends spoke highly of you..”

“Friends?....I wouldn’t say they’re my friends...” you said quietly near the end

“Because they had traded you for peace? Perhaps it was a fair trade” he thought out loud scanning your face “yet you carry sadness, why so that”

“Maybe It’s because I was arranged in a marriage with the king and told on that very day...” you said sarcastically.

“It was either you or your father“ he smirked as if he had everything planned out “He had managed to sell damaged crops to my chefs and i was looking forward to taking his head for it, but they mentioned you and here we are.“

“But I don’t want to marry you..“ you mumble. He turns and walks to the door without a care in the world

“Like it or not we are to be married in two days time. You shall be queen and that is final” He opens the door and looks over his shoulder “and should you attempt to stop it, everyone you love will parish because of you” he says as if it was easy.

He shuts the door without another word. The room had felt colder from when you had entered. You walk to the bed and fall on to it, your legs tucking into your chest, as sadness filled you. Not only were you here by force, you were also given an ultimatum.

You were utterly alone...no one to comfort you, or help you. Tears begin to blur your vision as a sob shakes your being. You felt so small, so alone, so frustrated.

You take your necklace off and open the small circle, there you find the face of your mother. You were very attached to her, you were only 10 when she had passed. You would always look to her for help or comfort in times of need.

Now all you can do was look at her kind eyes and try to feel alright. As you cried, your body became tired and slowly drifted off to sleep. Tears stained your cheeks as your body slightly rose and fell as you slept.

Oikawa had come to your room to bring you food only to find you in this state. He felt sorry for you, he could tell you were a sweet girl, and you were thrown into this situation.

He huffs and walks to Iwaizumi’s room. He may be the advisor but he was also his oldest friend. Which meant he was the only one who could get through to him.

He knocks on the door and sticks his head inside “Iwa, we need to talk“ there laid the king. On his grand bed in only the finest of silk robes, he pears over to his advisor from the book he held.

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that“ he quipped “and if it’s of the girl I already spoke to her.”

“Well you need to start treating her better, you shouldn’t let her fall asleep after crying” he complains closing the door “If she is to marry you and you keep this up, she’s going to leave”

“Oh please, so she can go back to that hole she calls home? She’s probably a spoiled brat who heard something she didn’t like“ he smirked closing his book and setting it on the small nigh table “After the wedding she’ll be all over me, just wait”

“I can see why all these past arrangements didn’t go well“ Oikawa rolled his eyes and walk back to the door

“...she’s a nice girl, maybe if try you’ll see that....maybe even like her“ he whispered the last part. He missed the young respectful man he used to be, but once he lost his father everything changed.

Iwaizumi sits up in bed wringing his fingers through his hair. He walks to his vanity and looks himself over. The short years of running a kingdom noticeable on his face. His eyes looked so dull yet intimidating....

“maybe I was too hard on her...“ he shakes his head and sighs heavily “No, if i wasn’t stern she would walk all over me. I’ll die before I let that happen“

He falls back on his bed and lets his mind wonder allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

~~~

The sun filled your room with warm light. A single ray of light shines on on your eyes making you bolt up. You were expecting to see your old room in your home, but you woke up in the same cobblestone room.

You sigh and let your shoulders slump a little. You get up from the bed and walk to the vanity where yet another dress laid with a note.

“Put this on and come for breakfast“ ~ Iwaizumi

He couldn't have picked a dress for you, not after what he had said. You pick up the dress and it was honestly very pretty.

It was a low u neck, with delicate lace over the dark blue fabric. You slip out of your previous dress and begin to dress again. You let out a frustrated sigh when you realize there was a corset to lace in the back.

“How the hell...“ a knock came to your door “...come in...?“ you half asked. In came women one who looked no younger than 17, and the other who seemed to be her mother.

“Good morning ma’am, my name is Alina and this is my daughter Rose” she introduces herself and the young girl, and curtsy “we shall help you dress and prepare for the day.“

“O-oh thank you but please, you don’t have to bow or curtsy“ you implore, if felt strange to be shown a gesture you were supposed to do.

They simply ignore your protest and proceed to fix your dress. Pulling on the string until the fabric clung to your rib cage. Alina tied it into a bow at your lower back and asked you to sit. They brush out your hair, apply light lipstick and a bit of blush to your cheeks.

“You look beautiful..“ Rose said timidly

“thank you“ you give her a small appreciative smile. You stand and they hand you a pair of shoes with short heels. You look in the mirror and felt your heart skip a beat, they did so well with getting you ready.

“wow..I..Thank you Alina, so much” you take her hand in yours and give her a smile. She gave off a motherly aura, something you missed.

Despite this being seen as improper to royals and nobles, she can tell you really needed this. She nods with a smile and it made your morning just a bit more bearable.

“This way ma’am, I shall show you to the Dinning room” Rose said holding the door open. Rose walks ahead of you with her hands in front of her, she stayed quiet unless she informed you about rooms.

“His majesty is in the war room often when he has guests from other kingdoms. This is sir Oikawa’s room if he is needed” she says while motioning to the doors.

“This is the dinning room, where you will be served meals three times a day. The king is usually here in the mornings” she opens the door and gives you a bow

“Thank you Rose“ taking a deep breath you compose yourself. You won’t show him weakness, you are strong and independent! King or not, he wouldn’t walk all over you. You walk inside to find a beautifully displayed table.

At one end you saw Iwaizumi reading over some papers and an open chair with a plate in front of it. Walking to it he sets his papers down and looks at you.

“Good morning“ he greets you

“Good morning“ you sit down and before you was a hot breakfast, that was mouthwatering. You pick up the fork on your right and bring the food into your mouth. Your tongue had unknown flavors explode and fill your mouth. You must have made a pleased face since he said

“You like it?” he raised a brow

You blush a little “um..yes, it’s very good.“ you say bluntly “uh, thank you for the dress as well, your highness“ you express your gratitude

“We’ll be married soon so just call me Hajime.“

“O-oh..okay“

“We’ll be meeting with Oikawa and other planners for the wedding. They’ll walk you through the process as well as what is expected of you“ he stands from his seat and stands next to yours offering you his arm. Standing from your seat you take his arm.

“If you’re going to be wedded to me, you may as well get used to this“ it was almost as if his words were forced. They lacked emotion much like him, as you walk you can’t help but think

“Is this what you want?“ he stopped in the hallway that you were walking in

“The wedding or you as a bride?“ great, a sarcastic king

“Both“ you fire back as you continue your short journey

“Well, I think I’d prefer someone else rather than someone stubborn, as for the wedding, I would have done just fine without a queen“ you couldn’t lie that one actually hurt a bit. You didn’t ask anymore questions for the sake of your feelings.

Opening the door to the meeting room there stood 5 people. From what you can tell they were the chef, the tailor, the planner, Oikawa, and an older woman with a stiff face. The whole thing was pretty quick I’m all honesty.

The cake had already been picked and the tailor simply needed your measurements. Oikawa helped you understand everything the planner explained. Apparently royal couples Exchange rings, but necklaces. The worst part was the old woman, who was Iwaizumi’s aunt, Joana. She circled you like a vulture hungry for prey.

“Shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward. There will be none of your slouching from now on.”

“What you lack in knowledge will be taught by me, for however long it takes”

“She’s shorter than your mother was, I am not certain if she will bear strong sons. With luck if she bares a daughter they’ll be attractive”

Well now you knew exactly who was worst in the kingdom. Iwaizumi comes in second after his aunt. Her criticism was somewhat constructive but also a bit hurtful. The mere mention of children make you cringe, you couldn’t imagine having children with him. Why couldn’t you have just said yes to one of those boys record of you?

While Iwazumi was getting his measements done you went into the hall. As you walk on the carpeted floor you take a look at the paintings in the hallway. It was mainly his father or himself, but at the end of the hall was a beautiful woman. Her gaze was soft just as her smile was. Within all the cold stares, her gaze was soft and kind. In her lap was a young boy, his face held joy and happiness.

“Hajime?” You whisper to yourself.

“Cute want he?” A sudden voice made you jump, it was Oikawa “he used to be really fun and happy when we were kids. His mother was a kind and generous, in a way you’re a lot like her” he smiles slightly at the portrait

“what..happened to her..?“ you asked cautiously his smile fell as a sad look came over his face.

“She fell ill...they suspect that someone had poisoned her. It’s a reason why Iwa’s guard is up constantly and his security is highly trained. You know,“ he looked at you “I think he sees his mother in you, he just won’t say it.“ he chuckled.

Looking back to the painting you thought maybe you had gone into it wrong. Maybe instead of going against the grain your should try and flow with it. You had always been kind and understanding with people, everyone had a story, even a king.

~~~

After an afternoon full of royal history and wedding practice you were mentally drained and just wanted some sleep. Every time you dozed off a little or got a question wrong, Joana would make you read the entire chapter again. Although she did teach you what to do and say for the wedding tomorrow, which was helpful.

You change into your night gown after a bath and got into bed. Before turning out your candle you stopped and thought for a moment. Biting back your pride you get out letting your feet touch the cold floor.

You leave your room looking into the dark hallway, lit only by the moonlight. You walk down the hall to the two grand doors and stop. Your heart pounds as you raise your small hand to the door and knock. You wait for any sign of a response, yet there was nothing. Before you could turn and walk back to your room the door had opened.

“What is it?” a husky voice asked. Your face ad instantly heated up from the sight of his bare chest. You never expected him to be well built as he was, you were certain he could see your cheeks glowing in the dark.

“I-I just wanted to say goodnight...I, hope your rest well“ you manage to get out

“Oh well...thank you, and to you as well. The wedding is tomorrow so sleep as best as you can“ he says trying not to eye you too much.

However, he never really looked at you long enough to notice your features. The moonlight made you look somewhat, surreal. After giving him a nod you turn around and walk back to your room.

Tucking yourself into the sheets you think about your future, what would he be like after tomorrow? Would he be the same after? Would you? But that look just now...maybe there was something there, something you overlooked.

Perhaps there was something more to this, stone king than you anticipated.

°°°° °°°° °°°°

Taglist; @vanilla-beanzz @hp-hogwartsexpress @sugarysweets-appreciation-blog @sophie-duck @mysteriousmagicx @toutorii @mystic-starlove @leviiiiiiiii @heavenly-warlord @birdiewolf @bakarinnie @postsfromthe6 @yatoatyourservice @lola2001 @kameko-ko @chewymoustachio

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 3 years

Text

Breathe {2}

Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: This is the most planned out fic. I think I’ve ever written, holy cow. Steve would be yelling language so much at this chapter. I cannot stress to all of you how much Sam or Bucky are not straight in this.

Rating: M

Summary: Six months after Endgame, Bucky sees John Walker with the shield, it’s time to talk to Sam. Steve died of old age and is the Major Character Death. Unrequited Stucky, eventual SamBucky.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Self Harm, Swears, Angst, Grief,

Word Count: 2,301

Six months passed, Bucky had been a stranger, but he had been busy. Getting acclimated to the modern world was not as easy as he had hoped. Brooklyn had changed, just like everything else. Businesses were gone, families he had known died, but it still was Brooklyn. He had taken a self guided tour when he first moved into the apartment. There were plaques all over the place with his and Steve’s name on them. He remembered staring up at their old building, or at least the plot of land it had been in, that was now some kind of apartment complex, and wondered why the hell they had thought to put a bronze plaque out front. Reading the plaque had caused his skin to crawl, the two friends lived together for years. That shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, but it kept nagging at his mind. Two friends, that’s all they were, no matter his feelings, they were friends. Til the end of the line. That phrase popped back into his mind. Bucky had ninety years, but there were three words he never got to say.

He had turned away once he finished reading, tears starting in his eyes and his hands clenched. He stumbled into two men who were holding hands.

“Watch it!” The taller one snapped, pushing the other behind him protectively. Bucky had frozen for a moment, eyes flicking around the two, whose hands remained intertwined. The one who had been pushed aside whispered in the other’s ear. “Alright, let’s go, but watch where the fuck you’re going.”

Bucky mumbled an apology, but his eyes wandered back to the couple as they walked away, their hands intertwined. He pushed down the ache he felt in his chest, shoved his hands into his pockets, and shuffled his way back to his apartment. Once he was at the place he now called home, he got onto the computer that had been left for him. Hydra had taught him how to use one, that was one skill he was grateful for.

Aside from reacquainting himself with life, he was making amends for his time as the Winter Soldier and attending his court mandated therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor. Busy, cleaning up years of messes he had made for Hydra, catching u At least that’s what he kept telling himself every time his phone dinged and it was a text from Sam. I’ll get to it. He kept saying, but he didn’t.

He sat in front of her birch tree wallpaper. He hated the room, the couch, not so much Dr. Raynor, but he hated the situation. He spent years with someone else in his head, and he didn’t need another person added to the list to comb through his mind.

Bucky continued in his usual fashion of giving her one word answers. Then he started to talk about the name he crossed of his list of amends, he parroted back Rule Number Three.“I am no longer the Winter Soldier, I am James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and you are part of my effort to make amends.”

“Give me your phone.” She ordered, he sighed and handed it over, she started going through the phone. “You’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “You’re alone, you have no family. It’s sad.”

He clenched his jaw. “I’m trying. I had calm in Wakanda, for ninety years I have gone from one fight to another.”

“So now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?”

Bucky paused and considered his answer. “Peace.” He answered.

She scoffed, “That’s bullshit.”

Bucky remained silent, because he knew she was right. He did want peace, but that wasn’t his top priority. “Thanks doc.” He muttered as he walked out of her office and made his way home.

He grumbled to himself and made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. He had tried to sleep in the bed, that first night after Steve was gone, but he couldn’t. Too soft, too warm, but the floor, that was just right. He sat on the floor and turned on the television, turning to the news channel, it was the only thing he could tolerate, at least it used to be the only thing he could tolerate. Sam had given up the shield. And now some asshole was walking around with Steve’s legacy on his arm. Bucky hadn’t met Walker, but he already knew, he wasn’t Captain America. The pomp and circumstance around his announcement disgusted him, Sam wouldn’t have done this. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, glancing at Sam’s message from earlier that day.

I’ll be in town this week. Teaming up with the Air Force, wanna grab a bite?

Bucky felt guilty for ignoring him all this time, he hadn’t wanted to. But he didn’t want to burden Sam, from the little bit he had learned from Steve, Sam had baggage too. He glanced back at the message. Air Force. That was something Bucky was still familiar with.

Bucky walked into the hangar. “Why’d you give up the shield?”

“Good to see you too, Buck.” Sam said calmly, ignoring Bucky’s question.

Bucky followed Sam and listened to him rattle on about the ‘Big Three.’ Aliens, androids, and wizards, the fuck? “I read the Hobbit, in 1937, when it came out.”

He didn’t miss the mildly surprised look on Sam’s face, but followed him onto the plane, like hell he was being left behind, not again. He sat across from Sam, glaring and Sam bared down and his brown eyes met Bucky’s blue. And in that moment, Bucky’s heart skipped a beat.

Bucky watched Sam jump out of the plane, and sighed. Following another idiot into certain danger. He thought to himself before jumping out, and then hitting every possible tree branch on the way down. He caught a flash of red just before he hit the ground.

“I got all of that.” He heard Sam chuckle as Redwing hovered above him.

“Get it out of my face, Sam, before I break it.” Bucky snarled through his teeth. Trying to ignore Sam’s laughter, and the little beep from Redwing.

Bucky followed Sam into the warehouse, slinking into the shadows into a separate hallway.

“Look at you, White Panther.” Sam snickered through the comms.

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes, “White Wolf, actually.”

Sam’s quiet laughter filtered through the comms, and Bucky’s face grew warm, he shook his head and continued walking. He met Sam in a large storage room, he could see a man lifting a large pallet of boxes. “I could take him.”

“Just wait.” Sam murmured, tapping on his goggles. “There’s more.”

“I could take them.”

“Just because you have a vibranium arm doesn’t mean you can take everyone in the world.” Sam grumbled, looking out at the semis waiting. “They’ve got a hostage.”

The trucks started to pull away and Bucky ran after them. Sam was yelling at him through comms, but he didn’t care, he jumped on the back of the second truck and ripped the door open. He glanced around, “Looks like vaccines.” A girl with curly red hair stepped out from behind one of the she glanced up timidly at Bucky. “I’m here to help.” Bucky said, holding out his hand to her. A smirk appeared on her face, “Son of a—“

Bucky flew from the semi as she kicked him in the chest. He glared up at her as she gave a last smile before jumping to the top of the truck. Bucky chased after her and was instantly thrown into a fight with her and two other men. They started kicking and punching him before the men grabbed ahold of both of his arms and turned him to face her. Redwing began to buzz around her head and she groaned, then grabbed the drone from the air and snapped in half over her knee.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Bucky said wistfully, catching Sam’s eyes for a moment before Sam engaged the girl and was thrown to a separate truck and pinned down by two men that Bucky hadn’t noticed.

Then that damn red, white, and blue saucer flew through the air. Bucky glanced up to see Steve’s government replacement jump from the helicopter. Bucky caught the shield as it rebounded from the hit, then it was immediately taken by Walker. Bucky gripped the bottom of the semi, snarling as the super soldier continued to stomp on his hand until his grip was broken and he was holding on by one arm. He snarled as he slid down the truck and wrapped himself around the bottom of the trailer frame. The tires hitting the pavement sounded louder then he glanced over to see a flash of silver and red.

“That little girl kicked your ass.”Sam joked before barreling under the semi, pulling Bucky with him and they rolled into a field, the two grunting until they came to a stop. Bucky was on top of Sam, his eyes met Sam’s and Bucky felt his stomach flip, then his eyes flicked down to Sam’s lips. He panicked and rolled off Sam, he paused for a moment, trying to calm his breathing. “You’re welcome by the way.” Sam snarked.

“Asshole.” Bucky grumbled. “Those were super soldiers.” Bucky murmured, still feeling his heart flutter in his chest.

“Yup.” Sam said, standing up from the ground and walking to the road, glancing back at Bucky on the ground for a moment before walking towards the road.

Bucky grumbled and rolled onto his feet, falling into step beside Sam. They continued talking about the implications of the super soldiers. Dread was thrumming though Bucky’s body, super soldiers meant Hydra. His arm ached, he shook it off and continued to walk along side Sam, listening to him talk about his connections, where he would get the information next. Then he heard the honk of a horn.

Bucky glanced over to see the new blonde haired, blue eyed boy who wanted to be Captain America. “We’re pretty sure it’s one of the big three.” He called out to them.

Bucky glanced over at Sam with a raised eyebrow. How many of you have this damned big three idea? He thought to himself, Sam rolled his eyes. “Or it’s super soldiers.” He answered, not making eye contact with Walker.

“You really think so?” Lamar asked.

“We gotta work together. That’s the only way.” Walker said.

Bucky bristled, like hell was he going to work with him. He might think he looked the part, but there was no fucking way that this guy was Captain America. He was no Steve Rogers, Bucky’s eyes wandered over to Sam. And he sure as hell was no Sam Wilson. “Just because you carry that shield doesn’t make you Captain America.” He snarked, Sam gave him a small nudge.

“I put in the work. I know you didn’t expect to see the shield, Bucky” Walker snarked back defensively.

Bucky’s blood began to boil, who the fuck did he think he was, calling him Bucky. “Did you? Have you jumped on a grenade?” Bucky snarled, rage building inside him.

Walker started to go on a tirade about jumping on grenades, and plans for them. Bucky didn’t care. “C’mon, it’s twenty miles to the airport, get in the truck.”

Sam sighed and started climbing in the back of the truck. Bucky glared, he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t leaving Sam alone with these guys. Bucky remained silent and let Sam fill Walker in. He threw in a few

“You hacked my tech?” Sam snarled, Bucky could feel him stiffening next to him.

“It’s government property, I’m kind the government.” John answered nonchalantly.

Bucky turned his glare directly onto John, each time he opened his mouth Bucky added to his mental list of reasons why this man wasn’t fit to be Captain America. He thought that he had created a long enough list after watching his first interview, but no, meeting him in person. Bucky had a hell of a list going.

“It’d be a lot easier if I had Steve Roger’s best friend and wingman on my side.” John said.

Bucky tilted his head at Sam, who remained silent, but Bucky could see the fire lighting in his eyes. “Stop the car!” Bucky didn’t look back as he started walking on the path, Sam fell into step beside him. Bucky was seething, he started taking deep breaths to try to calm himself once they were out of eyesight of the others. He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths.

“Come on, Buck, calm down.” Sam murmured, stopping next to him, dropping a hand to his shoulder.

“He’s an asshole.” Bucky managed to spit out.

Sam laughed, “Yeah, he is. But you seem to like calling everyone an asshole today, especially people who saved your ass.”

Bucky squinted his eyes and glanced over at Sam, who had a small smile on his face. “I don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to.” Sam said, giving Bucky’s shoulder a small squeeze.

“Good, cause I wasn’t planning on it.”

Sam let out a full bodied laugh, he reined it in and glanced at the other man. “You okay?”

Bucky sighed, “He’s not Steve.” He’s not you.

Sam nodded, he removed his hand from Bucky’s shoulder. They continued in silence, both men in their minds. Bucky wasn’t sure what Sam was thinking about, but Bucky already had three plans devised for how he was going to steal the shield from Walker and make sure it ended up in Sam’s hands. Because if an asshole was going to be wielding the shield, it was going to be his asshole of choice.

#sambucky #sam x bucky #sambuckyfic #tfatws #winterfalcon #winterfalcon fic #bucky barnes #captain america #sam wilson #bucky barnes x sam wilson #sam wilson x bucky barnes #tfatws fic #breathe

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baegarrick · 4 years

Note

hi hello so i’m coming to you because you’re the only person in the zukka fandom that i’ve seen blogging about the old guard and i love that movie SO MUCH and i can’t stop thinking about immortal zukka..... aang as either nile or andy bc i can’t choose, andy wouldn’t lose her immortality, and no one would betray anyone bc i say so 😌 how do you think an atla/the old guard au would work?? (zukkababey)

ok i rly love the idea of immortal everyone but tbh!!! i really dont know enough about asian history to like... go into detail about this honestly and I really didn’t want to come off as racist by fudging some stuff, but here r some bulletpoints about Things

(also u can slide into my dms 2 talk about this if u want, or if u have a discord, sorry it too so long I literally cant stop writing when I get on Topics. I'm so sorry if this gets off topic)

Sokka & Katara

In this au they’re not biologically related, but are both Inuit

Sokka dies first in a skirmish with another group of indigenous people in northern Canada (Inuit Nunangat) sometime prior to 1800

He knows he died, his people saw him die, and he doesn’t understand what’s happening (I really don’t know enough about the Inuit people to say whether they would have rejected him or tried to help him understand what happened to him)

however, I’d like to think they’d at least tell him to talk to the angakkuq, the shaman, and would probably see this as a positive thing

Eventually his band of people would whittle down to just a dozen or so, after long winters and harsh climates, and they were forced to assimilate with other bands who didn’t have ancestors who were there when Sokka died in the first place, so he has to move on.

He travels around for a while, trading and learning and staying in bands for a few years before moving on to another group, until it’s the 1800s

Around this time, Katara is born (and dies)

She refuses to stand down against a white French hunter who wanted to take one of the young women in her village as a wife, and she’s killed, and the woman is taken anyway.

When she wakes up, she’s furious, and before she can understand what happened to her, she finds the man and kills him. She’s arrested and set to be killed when Sokka finds her.

They aren’t biological siblings, but they come from the same people, and the world is changing rapidly and they’re the only people they know who are like this. The idea of marrying Katara is the worst thing that Sokka can think of-- look at her, she’s just a baby!!-- so they call each other siblings and travel together.

Zuko

ok again i know literally 0 things about chinese history like i googled “female chinese warriors” for suki and got like 100 things for mulan

Zuko is old, probably one of the oldest of the (living) group, but younger than Aang

he was the first son of the second son of the emperor in a time of political conflict in China. His father, the prince, was at war with his own brother who Zuko considered a father figure.

zuko speaks out against his father and is killed for being a traitor, but, guess what, he doesn’t die!!! his father does it again for posterity and uhhhhhh still doesn’t die. (or rather, dies, and comes back)

here’s where my uhhhhhh lack of knowledge is Bad

would his father banish him for being cursed? for somehow being against the gods?

or would he force him to fight in his armies, against his uncle, because he can’t die?

I was going to go with “banished” but fighting for decades in a fight he doesn’t want to be in is so! much! worse!

his father wants to know the secrets of his immortality and when he can’t share it he’s tortured and tested for years, and eventually sent out to fight as an immortal soldier who can’t die.

eventually he escapes, and leaves china for a long time (he doesn’t return for centuries)

he is highly distrustful of anyone for years bc of his father!! he wanders around for years like he does in Zuko Alone (or like Quynh before Andy finds her) and while he sees small bits of humanity, he has little faith in it and their wars, because he is Not One Of Them

For money he joins bandit groups or warlords or mercenaries, because why does any of that matter to him? Everyone dies.

Eventually he meets Aang, who is Humanity Personified, and Aang asks him if he thinks they can be friends-- but they’re on opposite sides of this conflict and Zuko is too disillusioned to want that. (they part ways)

He meets a man, Iroh, who reminds him of his uncle. They travel together for far longer than Zuko normally would, because he likes having a father figure, and because Iroh lost a son about Zuko’s age. They travel for years and Zuko never ages, so eventually he has to leave. Iroh finds him a few years later, greyer and slower, but tells Zuko that he knows about Zuko.

Zuko reacts poorly to this, lashing out, but Iroh is calm. Zuko breaks down and tells him he can’t give Iroh what he wants. (what Zuko assumes he wants-- what they all want, immortality)

But Iroh’s like, why would I want that? it sounds like a curse, son. Why would I want to never see my son again?

He tells Zuko: we’re not meant to be alone

After Iroh passes a few years later, he tries to track down Aang but can’t find him. He, however, has dreams about the others.

alternatively///////// japanese zuko?????? RONIN ZUKO???? love it but im too tired to think of More Than That after typing all the chinese zuko stuff up, although im Sure a ton of it would cross over bc im vague as Hell

Aang

he’s the oldest of the group but you wouldn’t know it!!!!

Roku was his mentor, the first immortal that any of them know of. He’s thousands of years old when Aang meets him. (He’s also the first to die. He shows Aang that All Things Must Die)

Aang is Tibetan, a Buddhist monk, one of the earliest, maybe the 7th century?

He dies in a temple fire

here again my complete and utter lack of knowledge is Bad

according to Dzogchen, individuals can transform their body into an immortal rainbow light, so there’s some mention of immortality in certain parts of Tibetan Buddhist culture, but idk how widespread that is since wikipedia didnt even have a source for it

he becomes a missionary and travels around asia for decades before Roku finds him

Roku!!! he’s an Old Immortal, and probably wants to die a little bit at this point, and he eventually does!! but for awhile he and Aang travel around together, and butt heads a bit bc Aang’s pacifist nature, and Roku thinks Aang Will Change as he gets older

aang is absolutely devastated by the Mongol invasion of Tibet in the 13th century

roku dies about a hundred years after he meets aang, and aang travels around a little aimlessly for awhile, learning all kinds of things and befriending people he’ll outlive. it dampens his spirits a bit.

eventually he meets Zuko, who’s far more jaded than Roku was, even, and wants to be friends, but respects Zuko’s decision otherwise.

Eventually, aang travels with the Norse to Canada in the 15th century, but when they leave they don’t take him with them. Instead, he ends up frozen ala steve rogers. Katara and Sokka find him a few hundred years later.

alternatively////// Aang IS the newest kid. he’s the Nile of the group. He’s still a Tibetan monk, and views this as a teaching/learning opportunity. He would also probably like everyone to stop killing each other. Sokka rolls his eyes at him constantly.

Toph

toph is a struggle bc how do you deal with an IMMORTAL BLIND GIRL

I’m gonna stick w her show backstory: rich, blind daughter of a wealthy Chinese family

Is kidnapped and her throat is slit when she’s young (maybe an older teenager) and the kidnappers panic, leaving her body. She’s found, namely unharmed, and resumes life despite the fact she knows she died.

However, being a privileged young girl, she’s kept under watch and it quickly becomes known that she’s immortal.

She’s regarded as a living deity for centuries until she meets Suki, who rescues her from the place and teaches her to fight. (she becomes a myth, later, rather than a historical fact)

alternatively//////// she could have been first generation chinese-american, and therefore the youngest

Suki

Suki was a third generation female warrior of her family who guarded the boarder during the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127), and trained from a young age in martial arts. (insp by the story of Mu Guiying)

She’s a war orphan, and leads an army of war widows and orphan women, but meets her untimely end with some of her sisters in a reign of arrows. She’s buried by some of her sisters before she wakes up again, and has to claw her way to the surface.

Her sisters don’t know how to react to her (a lot like Nile’s soldiers) so she eventually leaves them.

After her death, she hears rumors of a living goddess (Toph) and goes to see if there really is another person like her, and finds one of the people from her dreams (Toph)

She trains Toph to fight despite her being blind, and the pair become an unusual duo for a couple hundred years.

eventually, they start dreaming about a pair of siblings in the New World (not that new!! people live there!!) and book passage there in the 1800s with the first major wave of Chinese immigration

They dream about each other. it happens a lot at first, but it tapers out over the years. it grows stronger whenever a new one (katara) is born, but Katara and Sokka have NO desire to leave their homeland to go look for these strange people until they find Aang. (what languages might they have in common? russian??? the russians came to settle alaska, I know bc my stepmom is native alaskan and russian--- the Mongols invaded TIbet and Mongolia is right next to Russia, so Aang might know it??)

When they find Aang, Suki and Toph start dreaming of them again, and so does Zuko and they all start making their way to San Francisco. The Chinese wouldn’t arrive in Canada until around the 1850s (according to google) so Sokka probably wouldn’t speak any Chinese (mandarin???? i dont know things), but Zuko might speak some English or Russian. [really just gonna be a bunch of chinese, inuit, and tibetan people speaking russian to each other, isn’t it??]

Aang greets Zuko like an old friend, and Zuko Does Not know what to do with that. he’s skirtish and shy and hasn’t really been around a lot of friendly people. Sokka does NOT trust him. At all!! (he wants Katara to stay FAR AWAY from him. stick with the harmless monk we found at the bottom of a lake, katara.)

They find Suki and Toph in a bar. Toph hustling people for money, and Suki drinking at the bar. It’s very strange to have all of them around, and it’s like, 1830. they all decide they like each other, after they get some good old fashioned stabbing in-- Katara is the only woman Sokka has been around whos like him, and she’s like his little sister, and all he wants to do is Protect Her, so he doesn’t know what to do with women who known knives. (get his ass handed to him, thats what)

I want Zuko to be a broody mess but honestly he’d probably revert back to yelling at people/things in ancient Chinese (mandarin? I’m not really sure what period he’s from exactly). He’s still got that Good streak in him, esp since he’s like, a hundred years off his adopted uncle Iroh.

and you know what? 1830 america is NOT a cool place for anyone!! least of all asian immigrants, native americans, or women of either group

So the Gaang take to helping those people out any way they can. (Aang wants Peace, but you know white people, we don’t listen). They actively get involved in the underground railroad, eventually the civil war, and also helping out native americans, as well as chinese immigrants working on the railroads.

also so sorry I know the ask was about Zukka but I had to write a million words about their backstories first

Zuko + Sokka eventually come to a truce as the only dudes in this entire group who are willing to fight. Sokka is interested in both men and women, but he’s never really shared his life with anyone, and it’s the same for Zuko. Sokka, because he was regarded as an elder with his people, and after that he could only stay a few years. He had lovers, like Yue, but they all eventually died and Sokka couldn’t do anything about it!! Zuko, because while he also had lovers, he couldn’t really bear to be around humanity for a long time after what happened to him. (he’s vehemently opposed to slavery)

I think they get together at first just kind of because there isn’t really anyone else. Suki + Toph are kinda their own thing (are they lovers? sisters in arms? who knows), Katara is like Sokka’s sister (and if Zuko touches her Sokka will end his destiny permanently), and Aang is... aang.

It’s sorta a friends-with-benefits thing, except its an immortal warrior reluctant companions-with-benefits thing because can you really call this a friendship?? (its a family, eventually). Eventually it’s just kind of always been a thing. Sokka checking Zuko first when he comes back to life, counting down the second to make sure Zuko comes back at all. Zuko tells people he’s the only one allowed to kill Sokka, because lets be honest, the first couple of months with rowdy immortals meant killing each other a lot. When Sokka is killed violently in the Civil War, he wakes up half an hour later (slow, slow), to find a field of bodies and Zuko sitting next to him with his dao blades in the dirt, waiting for him. Sokka tries to make a joke, but it just makes Zuko mad, because what if that was the last time. (sokka jokes that he’s young, yet, not like Zuko)

They don’t really talk about it, partially because they don’t live in a world where it’s acceptable. What kind of title fits when you can only use it with 5 other people? But this time, when Zuko was afraid Sokka might not wake up, thirty years after they met, after lifetimes of being alone for both of them?? Sokka has to let Zuko know he loves him. Loves him!!! He’s not just here for the meantime.

thats all I have rn bc its 9pm and I’ve been writing this for like 3 hours. again if u wanna slide into my dms or if u have a discord and wanna talk about this/other stuff hmu. so sorry this got off topic.

also, the order I had them born in is:

roku --> aang --> Zuko --> suki --> toph --> sokka --> Katara

which may or may not be accurate to my timeline lol

Sokka probably speaks all of the Inuit languages, as well as French, English, and Russian, being alive for long enough to learn it all.

Katara refuses to learn French. Hates it. Never wants to learn.

She and Sokka personally keep Inuit traditions and languages alive as elders of their community, though it’s so much harder in modern times to stay connected to their culture bc they don’t age!!

disclaimer: bc the show was written as a complete mashup of several cultures I had to like..... pick where ppl were from. I picked china for Zuko/Suki/Toph bc they have a beautiful culture and a lot of dynasties I have heard a lot about recently while half watching the history channel. I really, really don’t know a lot about non-white culture as a white american from FLORIDA (so like, literally the farthest place you can get from the Inuit people and still be on the same continent). if you know more about these cultures than I do and I said something blatantly wrong pls let me know and I will change it.

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years

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Everlark Fic Exchange: Masterlist

Springtime Edition (2020).

The King's Mistress by @eiramrelyat

Prompt 9: Katniss is a commoner and peeta is a cruel king. He wants katniss to be his mistress. How will they fall in love is up to you. [submitted by anonymous]

Stay with Me Just for Now by @booksrockmyface

Prompt 10: katniss and peeta are best friends who were in a friends w benefits arrangement in the past. now the hunger for each other is coming back. [submitted by anonymous]

A Quiet Announcement by @albinokittens300

Prompt 11: in panem au where everlark isn’t reaped and peeta knocks up katniss. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]

Prompt #12: by @endlessnightlock

Prompt 12: katniss walks out of the fitting room wearing only a bikini to ask her friend if it suits her but it isnt her friend at the other side of the door but peeta. [submitted by anonymous]

When You Were Mine by @pitualba2015

Prompt 20: Peeta is the CEO and katniss is his secretary. They have an affair and katniss gets pregnant but when she tells peeta he doesn’t believe her and accuse her of trying to trap him. What will he do when he realize his mistake and how will he win katniss back. [submitted by anonymous]

Two Households by @everlarkandhistory

Prompt 22: Set in early 20th century. Katniss and Peeta are from two rival families who have been enemies since forever. They have a chance meeting which led to them falling in love. They are completely unaware of their identity. Will their love survive or will their relationship crumble. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]

Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad) by @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his commonlaw wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeens daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]

lying in the bed we made (if it wasn't us) by @archersandsunsets

Prompt 26: the night before the Quarter Quell, in the sleepless dark, Katniss and Peeta allow themselves to indulge in the bittersweet dream of a future they’ll never have together (“if it wasn’t us, what would you do?” “I’d want to marry you” “tell me”) [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

The Proper Response by @madetofly

Prompt 29: Post-MJ, Growing Together. Peeta is finally showing his affection and love for Katniss as they heal and reconnect. Katniss, being Katniss, seems to act like she doesn’t appreciate this, and is less than enthused. Peeta, taking this like an adult, stops showing her with the affection and tries to show her his love in other ways. Katniss, however, does not appreciate him stopping those things and set out to try and get him to continue it again because she misses it. [submitted by @albinokittens300]

All the World's a Stage by @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 31: “We never see you two so much as kiss in public but last night we all heard you having sex.” Submitted by Buttercupbadass

Misconceptions by @awkwardeverlark

Prompt 35: No reaping AU. At 19, Katniss considers marrying Gale for practical reasons; the fact she just heard the baker’s son toasted and was assigned a house at the edge of town has nothing to do with it... maybe. What happens next? (was Peeta really married or was it his brother? Does she marry Gale? Does Everlark ever talk? Will Peeta cheat if he’s actually married? Can Katniss admit she loves the Boy with the Bread? Is this forbidden love?) is up to you. [submitted by anonymous]

No One's Gonna Need You More by @ambpersand

Prompt 36: Frustrated and stressed out Single dad!Peeta needs a fuck desperately. His best friend, Katniss, unwittingly offers to help him out. Things get murky with repressed feelings, but one thing’s certain, Peeta can’t keep his hands to himself anymore and Katniss is all too willing to oblige at the drop of a hat, regardless of place, time and her own emotions, as long as he keeps whispering all his sexy, filthy thoughts into her ear. [submitted by anonymous]

Vidua by @darkhorse-javert

Prompt 44: Believing that taking a new young bride every 5 years will keep him youthful, Snow arranges to marry wife #12 from D12. In the hours between the ceremony and the wedding night, he drops dead. 16-yr-old Katniss returns to 12 but now she’s “Widow Snow.” Can she ever be Katniss, district huntress again? With all that $, wedding gifts, etc that were sent on the train with her? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Fortune Favors the Brave by @ambpersand

Prompt 46: Pacific Rim inspired AU with drift compatible Everlark (or not if you’re inspired by angst). I really just want to see more of that aspect of Pacific Rim explored than what they did in the movie and what better way to do it than with Everlark! [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Fate Takes a Break by @ally147writes

Prompt 50: everlark discovering on their date that they've missed each other their whole lives (living in the same city, went to the same high school, going to the same halloween and nye parties, were set up before by different friends but stood each other up, shopping at the same store, etc.) [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]

I Choose You by @wendywobbles

Prompt 51: Katniss E, the Valedictorian of Panem High school, is perfect in all fields of life. And that is the crush of awkward, average in studies, not so popular, never had a girlfriend, often bullied Peeta M. Not only does she have a very popular friend circle but also a handsome, popular boyfriend Gale H. Will she even want to be his friend? Is his crush doomed to fail? Eventual Everlark. [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]

The Change by @alliswell21

Prompt 59: Growing up Peeta started loving her. It was a gradual thing that happened throughout his childhood and into his teens. But something changes when he hits puberty. Her scent has heightened, he can spot her from miles away. He gets a bit possessive. But the biggest thing is when his body starts to heat up and even just the thought of you gets him hard for days. He finds out the family secret of his werewolf genes, something his parents thought passed him. How can he go by with his day and be with her without scaring her away by humping her because of his heat. [submitted by @animekpopxx]

By The Moonlight Side by @endlessnightlock

Chapter 2

Prompt 61: Peeta knew better, but he did stupid things when he got drunk. Now he’s caged at the animal shelter in his wolf form. And, omg, Katniss Everdeen let her little sister drag her in to see the dogs?! He knows he shouldn’t, but teen hormones. He just wants to lick her hand. Get a tummy rub. Hump her leg. Sleep on her bed. Omg, they take him home!!!! He needs to let his dad know where he is. Omg. He needs to figure out his bakery shift. “God, don’t let Katniss catch me licking my balls.” [submitted by @567inpanem]

Maybe Tomorrow by @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 62: one night stand!everlark sleeping together the same night a terrible snowstorm hits the city and everything gets shut down with no way to get home. perhaps a two night stand? [submitted by anonymous]

Genesis by @rosegardeninwinter

Prompt 66: Everlark post apocalypse, katniss and peeta are neighbors and the only two that make it to katniss's father's bunker in time. Over the course of several years the two have grown quite close having no one else, but now provisions are running low. Do they face the unknown outside or stay put, knowing they only have food to last another week? [sent by anonymous]

Sunset on Grass by @alliswell21

Prompt 67: Her parents said that it was just a childhood crush and that she will outgrow it. But why does her heart flutters. When she’s finally old enough to get a job, she immediately gets a part time job to be close to him. Will is pursue her love against people’s negative views because he’s so much older than her. Or go for it and make him fall in love with her. Age Gap Older!Peeta. [submitted by @animekpopxx]

A Taste of Rebellion by @acpoe82

Prompt 68: Dark Coffee Shop AU - Capitol Peeta runs a Coffee/Pastry shop in the poshest part of the Capitol. Near by President Snow’s Mansion. Capitol!Katniss is a frequent customer. Things in the Capitol begin to deteriorate as the rebellion drags on. Are they sympathetic to the rebel cause? [submitted by @oakfarmer12]

You're Not Alone by @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 70: Peeta picks up a hitchhiker in the mountains one night, only to find it's his childhood best friend and now escaped convict Katniss Everdeen. In a panic he calls police but after hearing her side of the story comes to believe she didn't actually murder anyone. Everlark on the run. [submitted by anonymous]

Forever and a day... by @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 73: I am a simple woman: I just want Katniss Everdeen content and loved and washed in moonlight I don’t care how you do it. [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

The Most Unlikely Serendipity by @albinokittens300

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

Prompt 75: An in-Panem arranged marriage a/u where Katniss is slightly older than Peeta. [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Shots Make Me Sing by @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 81: Katniss finds her soulmate at her bachelorette party (aka Peeta)(Happy ending please) [submitted by anonymous]

when we’re underneath the lights my heart’s no longer broken by @omercilessmoon

Prompt 92: High school musical au: katniss and peeta as troy and Gabriella. [submitted by anonymous]

December nights in June by @viloula

Prompt 110: AU. Everlark live across from each other in fancy New York (or the like) penthouses. With all those large windows, they see each other daily and know the other's routine and all he/she does, but they've never met. A chance meeting occurs. What will happen? The circumstances of their living arrangements/any backstory and what happens between them is up to you. [submitted by @acpoe82]

High Heels at Midnight by @hutchhitched

Prompt 134: Visual Prompt. To see it go HERE [submitted by @javistg]

must work hard, tolerate cats by @mendontprotectyou

Prompt 140: In Panem AU where Peeta is a Mail Order Husband. As the youngest son of a merchant class Capitol family, he has accepted he will never inherit the family bakery. But when his family contract him to an arranged marriage to further the business he will never own, he escapes by signing up to a programme to relocate and marry a district woman. Why Katniss needs a husband, is up to the author. Everlark endgame :) [submitted by @louezem]

Notes:

Fics organized by prompt number.

Masterlist compiled on May 11, 2020. Subject to change. New works will be added as they’re posted to the @everlarkficexchange.

Looking for updated versions of the multi-chapter fics? Try our AO3 Collection

#springtime edition 2020 #masterlist #our fics

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cole-grey-writes · 4 years

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Pains & Stains

Universe: The Witcher (Netflix)

Timeline: Post-Season One

Character(s): Ciri, Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier

Pairing(s): Ciri x Trans Male Reader (platonic), Geralt of Rivia x Trans Male Reader (platonic), Jaskier x Trans Male Reader (platonic)

Warning(s): not episode 6: Rare Species compliant, blood, period talk, vomit, swearing, temporary misgendering

Summary: When you wake up one morning in a puddle of blood, you look to Ciri, the only one who knows about you. You’ve kept this part of yourself hidden from your other travel companions, Geralt and Jaskier, for a reason. But, now it looks like you can’t hide anymore.

A/n: I had the worst period of my entire life. This is basically a retelling of what happened to me (with some embellishment of course). Sidenote, ciri x reader can actually be read as either romantic or platonic, whichever you prefer (it says platonic only because it’s not explicitly romantic) but since ciri and reader are both teenagers (id say 14-15 ish, give or take a few years) the geralt and jaskier x readers are strictly platonic/familial type relationships. Also, i got another week of spring break so pls send in asks before i have to focus more on school again. But anyway, enjoy °u°

Side Note: in regards to Geralt at the end, I genuinely don’t think he’s being transphobic or misgendering on purpose and that’s not how I meant for it to come off as. In my opinion, I think geralt is just wholely... unaware of the situation. He’s basically been isolated (with the exception of other Witchers) for a vast majority of his life so I think with that comes ignorance to certain things. So, he’s not being malicious, he’s just very uneducated.

You know exactly what wakes you up. You know what the painful cramps and squishy, warm feeling in your pants means, but you don’t want to look down and confirm it.

The sun is slowly rising which means Geralt will be waking up soon and you don’t want him to find you bleeding all over yourself. You wouldn’t be able to explain yourself without having to tell him about you, so you accept your fate begrudgingly.

Sneaking a peak at Geralt and Jaskier, you take note that they’re both still sleeping in their separate bed rolls on the opposite side of the burned out campfire. You roll back over as quietly as you can and reach out to Ciri, who’s sleeping right next to you, and try to get her attention. It takes a few calls of her name and a shove before she finally wakes up confused. All you can do when she looks at you questioningly is ask for help.

Ciri is, rightfully, concerned and immediately up and ready to help. She gets her bag, fishing out the cloth she uses for her menstrations before she gives it to you. You stand to leave when Ciri asks, whispering, “What are you gonna do?”

“Go to a stream close by or something and wash my clothes.”

Ciri nods. “I’ll deal with the blood.”

You eye the small puddle of blood that had dripped down your leg and into the forest floor. You turn away quickly, agreeing. You head off in some random direction and it isn’t long before you come across a stream and begin stripping. It’s awkward being naked out in the open, even worse when the water you’re washing up in only comes up to your waist but you figure it would be even more awkward to explain to your travel companions why you have blood all over your crotch.

You bear the vulnerable feeling and refuse to look down while you allow the flowing water to clean your lower body, simultaneously scrubbing vigorously at your pants and smallclothes. You decide to take longer than necessary to wash. You know it’s gonna be a long day of walking so you wanna make sure you don’t immediately feel gross.

After the washing is finished, you just get your clothes back on, still stained but less so and now damp, when Ciri comes into view.

“I couldn’t get the stain all the way out,” you tell her, feigning nonchalance when all you can feel inside is panic.

Ciri tells you, “It’s fine,” before she’s pulling her cloak off and handing it to you. “You can wear it until we can sneak you some new pants.”

You sigh, relieved and grateful. “Thank you.”

Ciri smiles and you both begin to head back to camp. As you walk, Ciri questions you about the pain. You and Ciri go back a long time, practically grew up with each other. Your parents were soldiers of noble blood who fought alongside Queen Calanthe so you’ve known each other since you were kids. It didn’t take long for you to confess to Ciri about how you felt when people called you by the name your parents gave you or when your dad called you his little baroness or when the peasant boys you and ciri played around with called you little girl. And since you were so close, she knows all about how painful your time can be.

“It's not so bad right now,” you tell her, subconsciously rubbing at your abdomen.

“That's good,” Ciri says. You agree but silently wonder how long it will take before you’re completely consumed by pain.

You’re both silent as you make it the rest of the way back to camp. As you step back into the clearing where you had slept, you note that the camp is completely put away. The only thing left as a sign that anyone had been here is the circle of burnt firewood.

“Ah, there you two are, you little scamps,” Jaskier exclaims upon seeing you walk into the packed up camp, throwing up his hands dramatically. “We were beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

Beside Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t look all that worried but he does look mad, although he does always look like that. He leans against a tree with his arms crossed, glaring at you as you approach. “Where have you been?”

“I told you I was going to the bathroom,” Ciri explains quickly.

Geralt says, without looking away from you but still gently, “Not you.”

Geralt’s tone doesn’t bother you as much as it used to. He was worse in the beginning actually. You used to think that Geralt hated you for some reason because he wasn’t as distant with Ciri as he was with you and then Jaskier joined Geralt in his travels again. And he treated Jaskier about the same as he treats you. It took a few days of observing interactions between the two men to figure out that Geralt wasn’t being mean or, rather, wasn’t trying to be. He was just reluctantly accepting of the presences of men.

It also crossed your mind more than once that it could be because Ciri was his child surprise, as Jaskier eventually explained. But whatever the reason may be, he acts differently with you and there isn’t much you can do about it so you ignore it as much as you can.

“I was washing up,” you explain lamely.

“We did that last night,” Geralt says through gritted teeth. Which, yeah, they did while Ciri bathes by herself away from sight — still within Geralt’s earshot for safety reasons, obviously —, the men bathe together. And since you haven’t had the courage to tell Geralt and Jaskier your situation, you, in fact, did not bathe last night.

“Oh, hush,” Jaskier says, waving Geralt off. “So he wanted to wash in the morning. I actually do it often when I'm not spreading the tales of your heroics and I find it quite refreshing. You know, some say people that wash in the morning actually-”

“We should’ve left by now,” Geralt huffs. “We’re late.”

You sigh, watching Geralt walk away and start leading Roach down the path.

Jaskier comes to stand beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. He playfully tells you, “Don't let Geralt bother you any. He's not a morning person, clearly,” which makes you instantly smile.

“Where are we headed?” Ciri wonders as she comes to stand next to you, too.

“About a day’s north,” Jaskier says.

You groan, throwing your head back. “A day?!”

“Yes, I’m afraid,” Jaskier confirms sympathetically. “Ah! But, if you would like a nice way to pass the time, I am always willing to give a little… sneak peak of my new ballad.”

Ciri gasps, eyes sparkling. “Yes please!”

You hum, “Sure.”

Jaskier begins strumming his lute and you all set after Geralt, doing your best to ignore the increasing pain in your abdomen.

As always, it doesn’t take long at all for the force of the pain you usually feel to hit full throttle and in turn, the nausea sets in.

You wrap your arms around yourself, fingers digging into your sides with all the strength you have, doing your best to ignore it. You had hoped it would even out the pain so it wouldn’t be that bad, maybe distract you for a while, but it doesn’t work even a little bit and it’s downright unbearable.

By mid morning, your muscles are shaking, you’re sure you’ve carved little crescents into your sides even through your shirt, and you're dripping in sweat with the effort to not cry and fall to the floor in blinding pain. You blame the last one on the blistering sun when anyone questions you about it.

Your problem causes you to lag behind everyone else quite often, although Ciri does her best to stay with you and keep you mind off the splintering pain. She talks endlessly about anything and nothing at all but it helps only a little bit.

It’s during a particular lull in the one sided conversation between you and Ciri that you hear Jaskoer badgering Geralt insistently about something. You almost don’t pay any attention to it, it's Jaskier and Geralt so that's how they always are, until you hear him say your name.

“He needs a break, Geralt,” Jaskier says sternly and louder than his previous tone, which catches Ciri’s attention as well. Geralt continues to ignore the bard. “Maybe your witcher eyesight is starting to diminish in old age, so I suppose I'll enlighten you. He is positively sweating rivers, Geralt. He’s soaked through his little-”

Geralt pulls Roach to a sudden halt so he can growl in Jaskier’s face. “Fine, we can take a break if it will get you to shut up!” Then, Geralt ushers Roach forward faster, veering off the path.

Jaskier turns to you and Ciri, smiling a very smug smile. “Well, time for a well deserved break. Hopefully there’s a river nearby, we can fill up our waterskins. Maybe splash about for a while if Geralt doesn’t threaten to leave us behind for taking too long, if we’re lucky, if-“ and you tune him out as he keeps talking on account that a hot spike of pain stabs you directly in the pelvis. You barely manage to swallow a cry, although your face contorts in the effort. It caused Jaskier to pause mid babble. “Are you alright?”

“No, I'm fine,” you say, rather quickly. Too quickly.

“Are you sure? Because you really look very pale. And, actually, your hands are-”

You’re yelling before you can stop yourself. “I said, I’m fine!” Pushing past Jaskier roughly, you rush to catch up to Geralt who’s almost completely immersed in the foliage a little ways away from the path. You prefer, at the moment, to deal with an annoyed Geralt than a chronically curious Jaskier who questions you nonstop about what’s wrong with you until you get so fed up, you spill all your secrets.

There’s no river or stream where Geralt decided to stop and let Roach chew on some grass near his feet, but there is a small sized pond. You don’t wander too close to Geralt, keeping your distance like you always do, instead choosing to sit against a tree while pressing your knees hard against your chest to try and control the pain.

Jaskier and Ciri approach only seconds later. Jaskier immediately walks over to Geralt and starts talking to him about his new ballad, even though they’ve all heard it five times that morning so far, and Ciri comes to sit down next to you.

Ciri leans close to your side, whispering, “How high is the pain so far?”

You show her your hands, shaking visibly, causing Ciri to frown. She grabs one of your hands and holds it in her lap soothingly, rubbing her thumb across the back. “I also feel like throwing up.”

“That might have to do with the fact you didn’t eat dinner,” Ciri tells you as a matter of factly, side eyeing you pointedly. “And breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say dismissively. You add, in a sad attempt to use comedy to cope with the pain, “I've made mistakes.” In response, Ciri doesn’t laugh but she hums with a small smile.

You sit silently for a few moments before you turn to Ciri and say, “I think, maybe it would be a good idea to throw up a little bit.”

Ciri shakes her head doubtfully. “I don’t know, Y/n.”

“I should at least try it,” you tell her, shrugging. “It might help get rid of the feeling, even for a little bit. Maybe hold me over until Jaskier can convince Geralt to stop for another break.”

Ciri looks like she thinks it over before she nods reluctantly. “I guess that makes sense.”

You and Ciri stand together, seeming to grab Geralt’s attention. When he begins to approach with Jaskier in tow, you turn sharply to give Ciri a questioning look. Ciri nods understandingly, sending you walking away speedily in a random direction, not bothering to spare either man a glance. You can feel the burn of Geralt’s golden eyes on the back of your head as you retreat into the forest, but you don’t slow your gate. You hear Ciri explain that you had to pee and silently thank her for being such a good liar.

You only stop walking when you feel you’re far enough from Geralt’s impressive hearing won’t catch the pitiful noises you’ll inevitably make. You notice that you’re near a fallen tree and you decide you can use it for support. Walking over to it, you drop to your knees and put both hands on the horizontal trunk. Waiting only a few seconds for the nausea to bubble up, but it obviously doesn’t when you want it to and you figure since Geralt’s been in a bad enough mood all morning, it’d be best to make this experience as quick as possible.

Opening your mouth, you stick a single finger to the back of your throat, gagging instantly. Except nothing comes up. Your breathing increases tremendously though and you do feel the sickness set back in quickly after. You gag twice more without any help from your fingers before you feel your stomach finally give a wet gurgle. Gagging once final time, a yellow liquid comes up. It's warm and slippery but there's hardly any of it, barely a handful.

You were right earlier, it seems, because you do feel better, if only a little. Your stomach finally settles and the sickness isn't burning the back of your throat anymore. You kneel on the ground for only a few more moments, making sure you’re done. You stand when you deem yourself stable enough, wiping the slime from your lips. Your turn to make your way back to your companions before you’re left behind, ignoring the quivering that spreads from your hands to your stomachs to your thighs.

As it turns out, you couldn’t quite ignore your trembling libs and apparently, neither could Jaskier. He stopped you multiple times on the long and agonizing walk, asking if you were alright, and every time you told him you were fine every time. Jaskier clearly didn’t believe you if the increasing number of worried glances were anything to go by.

Your condition, as the day drew on, only grew worse and it was getting bad enough to cause a crease to appear on even Geralt’s brow. You barely make it to midday before Geralt is suddenly deverting from the path and leading the group through the woods to a new destination. It confuses you and Ciri, causing you to exchange glances, but you both choose not to say anything.

The new destination, as it turns out, is the nearest civilization that actually only takes a little over ten minutes to get to. It’s a small backwater village with barely ten families, only a single story inn, a quaint little tavern, some food vendors scattered around in the center of town, and, thankfully, a stable for Roach. Surrounding the village is nothing but yellow fields on one side and the blossoming forest on the other side, which is an odd combination in your opinion. Obviously, given it’s miniscule size, there’s nowhere to sightsee — not that you do much of that anyway, thanks to Geralt’s workaholic attitude — so you all immediately head off in the direction of the inn.

Outside, Geralt hands you and Ciri some coin. “Go inside, book a room–”

“–preferably with two beds,” Jaskier jumps in easily.

Geralt, ignoring him, continues, “–while I drop off Roach–”

“–and I look for work at the tavern.”

Ignoring Jaskier even harder, Geralt wonders, “Think you can manage that?” You side eye Geralt at that because you know he’s talking about you, but it doesn’t sound melicious like you would’ve expected from him. In fact, it sounds to you like his tone leans more towards slight concern than anything else.

Shifting around on your feet, you look down and fidget with the sleeves of Ciri’s cloak that is darker now at the ends from you wiping away the sweat from your face all morning.

Ciri takes the coin bag from Geralt. “We will.” When Jaskier and Geralt walk away, you follow Ciri into the inn. She turns to you as soon as you walk in, saying, “It might take a bit to get the room. Do you think you’re able to stand and wait just a little bit long before resting or maybe you should sit down?”

You shrug even though you feel like your limbs are weighing you down. Ciri gives you another doubtful look of the day and tells you to just have a seat while she gets a room. You watch her walk over to the innkeeper before your brain catches up.

You do as Ciri said, walking over to a stool that sits next to an empty table and drop into it, your feet dragging the whole way. Resting your head on the table feels more relieving than it should, but you really don’t have any more strength left to think about it or to keep your eyes open any longer. They droop and fall close.

It feels like only seconds that you sit there before a hand grasps onto your shoulder. Your eyes snap open, vision blurry with rest even though you feel like you got none at all.

“Sorry,” Ciri apologizes. “The innkeeper was trying really hard to negotiate a price.”

You shake your head drowly. “Didn’t really notice.”

“Well, the room is paid for now so we can go settle in,” Ciri seems overly happy about that but maybe it’s just for your sake. “You can change cloths before Geralt and Jaskier get here. Dinner won’t be served for hours so there’s plenty of time for a nap before that.”

You nod, agreeing. It does sound nice and it would be good to change cloths so you don’t leak while you sleep.

You stand to start walking with Ciri to your room, but as soon as you’re upright, a flash of cold air whooshes through your body and you immediately feel light headed. Stumbling, you accidentally knock over your stool and another next to you. Ciri grabs onto your arms to help you stay standing but it’s no use. Your knees buckle anyway, vision going dark just as you feel yourself collapse into Ciri’s arms.

You wake up slowly only because you still feel like absolute shit. Your arms feel stiff and your legs feel as shaky as they have been all day. Your stomach is tying itself in knots and the nausea is back.

Your eyes actually don’t hurt from the dim light at your left, but you close your eyes anyway in hopes of going back to sleep.

“Oh, you’re awake.” You open your eyes at the undeniable sound of Jaskier’s relieved voice. You have to turn your head to actually see him, noticing as you do so that there is a cool damp cloth on your forehead and that you are laid above the covers. Jaskier, when he comes into view, is kneeling in front of the fireplace, setting two more pieces of wood in the dwindling flame. “That’s good. I was getting a bit worried.”

Not wanting to move your head more than you have to, you just look where you can from this certain angle. Thought, to be honest, there’s not much to look at. You are obviously in the room Ciri paid for. It’s small like you expected from a one story inn. There’s a chair in the corner by the fire with Ciri’s cloak thrown over the back of it. The dark blue curtains over the windows are closed and it would be drowning the room in complete darkness if it wasn’t still daytime out. But, given the bright orange light coming seeping through, you suspect it’s not going to be much longer. Also, there’s a small table next to your bed with a lit lantern sitting on it.

“It’s on low,” Jaskier says suddenly. You look at him questioningly. Jaskier smiles softly, saying, “The lantern. I put it on low so it didn’t hurt your eyes.”

You guess he must have seen you eyeing it.

“You’ve spent an awful long time without food,” Jaskier tells you, almost as if you didn’t know that yourself. But, still, you grimace at that thought of food. “Yes, I imagine food really doesn’t sound all that appealing given the nausea and cramps. But, alas, you must eat something.”

You wonder for a moment if Ciri told them about you but you shove the possibility away violently. You know she wouldn’t do that. Ciri had promised when you first started traveling with Geralt that she would never say anything if you didn’t want her to. But, then again, it’s not a real surprise Jaskier knows. You’ve heard many tales of Jaskier’s many sisters while he’s traveled with you. He’s grown up with many women in his life, and while you are no woman, that doesn’t discourage your body from acting like one.

Jaskier walks over to you with a wooden bowl in his hands. Jaskier sets the bowl on the table next to the lantern. He says, jokingly, “It’s no rabbit stew, but it’s good, I suppose. Do you think you can sit up a small bit and have some soup?” You can groan minutely and turn your head away in response. “Come on, cub.”

You pause at the endearment. It's not new but it is surprising in this situation. Jaskier uses it often with you and Ciri given your high status Cintran blood. But, he’s never used it all those times he’s lectured you and Ciri about wandering around towns without supervision or when you swear when he’s around or when you and Ciri sneak away with his lute for some of your own concerts. Which means Jaskier is clearly not mad at you for keeping your secrets or at least he’s really, really worried about you.

“It’s been almost an entire day since your last meal. There’s no way you’re not starving.” Still not willing to force food down right now, you swallow around your dry, swollen feeling tongue. With a scratch to your voice, you ask about Ciri with as little words as possible. “Out. With Geralt, getting some… products.”

You don't miss the obvious way Jaskier stumbles. You have no doubt what word he skipped over in his explanation and it confuses you. Usually everyone just assumes–

Geralt comes clambering into the room with Ciri right behind him. Unlike Geralt, who has that permanent scowl on his face, Ciri is smiling brightly.

Ciri comes over to sit down next to you immediately, setting down the loaded bag on the bed in front of her. “How are you feeling?” She asks. When you hum noncommittally, Ciri hums back empathetically. “Well, we went into town and look!” Ciri exclaims, pulling out some black pants from the bag. “We got you some new pants. They might be a little big but I know you don't mind that,” Ciri tells you, smiling a little too cheerfully for something so simple as a pair of pants, but you smile back anyway.

Ciri goes to say something else, no doubt still praises about the pants, but Geralt interrupts her harshly. “Are you going to explain what happened or not?”

Jaskier’s head whips around from where he’d been looking on at you and Ciri. “Geralt,” he hisses.

Geralt is unbothered and continues despite Jaskier’s warning. “Why were you keeping secrets?”

“Geralt, is this really the time?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Jaskier fully turns towards Geralt, hands resting on his hips. “Oh, I don't know, Geralt, maybe it’s because he’s sick!”

“She lied,” Geralt growls.

You sigh, resigned. You were expecting it but it still makes your belly sink with ice.

Your eyes flash open when the bed shifts violently. When you do, you see that Ciri has jumped up on the bed, towering over Geralt. “She?!” Ciri screeches indignantly, catching everyone off guard. “He is a boy!”

“Ciri,” Jaskier says gently, attempting to calm the obviously furious girl.

From behind her, you, as well, do your best to appease Ciri, even if you would really much rather crawl into the mouth of a Kikimore and never come back out. “Ciri, it’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. Do you even know how hard it is for him to be seen as who he is?” Ciri says, voice still booming. Geralt looks rightfully surprised. “He did not spend years publicly reinventing himself to be mistaken as a she!”

When Geralt tries to speak, Ciri doesn’t let him have the chance. In fact, Ciri raises her fists and starts hitting Geralt, saying multiple explicit ‘fuck you’s. Geralt, in turn, blocks her attacks but doesn’t try to stop her while Jaskier rushes over to calm her down himself.

The fighting only stops when you curl in on yourself from a painful cramp. You barely have enough sense to roll over to your side to vomit over the side of the bed. The puddle is even smaller than the one in the forest.

Ciri breathes heavily, crossing her arms while scowling that rivaled Geralt’s own. “Get out.”

“Ciri,” Jaskier tries, but Ciri moves away from Jaskier and tells them to leave again, more steely. Jaskier sighs. He puts his hand on Geralt's arm and shoves him towards the door. You have no doubt that Geralt allows Jaskier to move him, knowing that there’s no physical way Jaskier is strong enough to move him on his own. Jaskier turns back towards Ciri as he stands in the doorway. “Try to get him to eat, alright?”

Ciri doesn’t give any sign that she’s heard what he’s said or that she’s going to follow his direction. With that, Jaskier leaves and shuts the door behind himself.

You sigh from your fetal position, far more relieved to have them leave than you feel you should be. Actually feeling comfortable in this position, you’re reluctant to move. “You didn’t have to do that,” you tell Ciri, deciding not to face her.

“I did,” is all Ciri says in response. She sits in bed behind you, doing so slowly and softly so as not to jostle you. “You want some sleep?”

You hum, thinking. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, I suppose it wouldn’t,” Ciri agrees. “You can eat and change your cloth when you wake up.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you joke lightly.

Ciri agrees again, shifting and wrapping her arms around you, curling up behind you. “I’ll be here when you wake up this time.”

You smile, shutting your eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

(NOT MY GIF)

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poisxnyouth · 4 years

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bad influence dave part 2 (d.d)

A/N: i’m sorry this is so short ): i think it’s a vibe tho. enjoy. talk to me while you read & let me know what you think. love u. thank u for reading. grateful for y’allllllll

WC: 5.1k

You see David again a week after you give him your first handjob, and it’s almost embarrassing how much you’ve begun texting each other – about anything and everything. He texts you on his lunch breaks, when he gets off of work, when he’s going into work, when he’s bored, before he goes to sleep – you name it. You text him when work is slow, in the middle of church, during the weekly family dinner at your parents’, anytime — constantly attempting to see each other.

At noon, David texts you while you’re about to go on lunch break, usually an uneventful hour:

It’s so slow rn. Come see me whenever you go on break. Pls. I’m losing my mind. This old woman won’t stop hitting on me. All she wants are mimosas.

Of course, you tell him you will. Why sit in the break room and waste your own time when you can go see him?

He had mentioned to you in passing where he bartends; a few streets up and over, but not too far – speed walking distance if you wanted to see him for longer than thirty minutes.

You make it as quickly as you can, composing yourself before opening the door. As soon as David gains sight of you, the look on his face indicates you saved him from a bartender’s Hell. He fakes an excuse to the woman, the only other person in the bar, to come speak with you. He leans against it when he’s in front of you, eyes on yours.

“Hi, baby. Do I need to card you?” he asks, watching the familiar blush spread across your cheeks, “It’s so good to see you. What are you drinking?”

“I’m still working!” you excuse, bitching him out playfully, “Nothing!”

“That’s no fun,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s on me. What do you want? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll pick.”

“By the way, that’s what you wear to work?” David questions, looking you up and down approvingly as he pours a shot for you, “Sexy.”

“If I take a shot, you have to take a shot, too,” you bargain with him, ignoring his comment as you blush even more, “We’re both working!”

“The only way I can drink on the job is if you buy it for me,” he explains, looking around the room and the older woman, “buuuut...is anyone looking? And I’m not the lightweight here, remember?” he chuckles, “Miss Two Drinks and I’m Drunk.”

You flush as he places your glass on the bar, “It’s tequila. Salt on the back of your hand, honey.”

“I know how to do a shot of tequila,” you gripe, eyes rolling as you lick the back of your hand, “Just ‘cause I’m a virgin doesn't mean-”

“Okay,” he shrugs rudely, not caring about your defense, “Just do the shot, baby. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

You clink your glasses and David’s eyes follow your tongue when you dump some salt on top of the wet skin. You lick at it, meeting his eyes and downing it. You reach for the lime and suck on it as he finishes his, taking your glass from you.

“When can I see you again?” you ask, gazing at him as he leans against the counter, “I’m off at five.”

“I’m off at six. You wanna go dealing with me tonight? I need some company, and we can go back to my place afterwards,” he questions, eyes on yours, “You can weigh everybody’s shit for me and split it up.”

“Okay,” you agree, slightly excited at the prospect, “Do you want me to come back here when I get off?”

“Yes,” David replies, “I’m getting you high afterwards, though. Don’t say no. I’ll give you, like, the whole experience. Are you working tomorrow?”

You shake your head, blushing, before he responds, “Great. Me either, so you’re spending the night.”

You gape at him, “I don’t have my stuff-”

“I’ll take you by your place beforehand,” David offers, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Stop stressing, baby.”

You sigh, hating how many hearts are filling your eyes as you gaze at him and hating that you have to leave, “Okay. I have to go. I’ll see you in a few.”

He tells you to wait, slipping out from behind the bar and leaning his head down, kissing you. “Okay. You can go now. I’ll see you later. Wish me luck with that one over there.”

Five-thirty seems to be around the time the bar is getting busier due to everyone getting off of work, and the stress on David’s face is evident. He hasn't even noticed your arrival yet, attempting to keep polite conversation with his customers.

Six rolls around and he’s immediately clocking out, gruffly wishing his coworker good luck and making his way over to you, “Sorry, sweetheart. Fucking busy tonight. Let’s get out of here.”

You do, and David’s immediately lighting a cigarette and unbuttoning his black dress shirt as soon as you step outside. He had rolled the sleeves up since you last saw him, and he slips the garment off while his cigarettes and lighter are still in his hands and out of his breast pocket.

His black t-shirt remains, tucked into his slacks which are secured with a belt. He’s guiding you to his car silently for a few minutes, tossing out his cigarette before unlocking the vehicle and climbing in.

“I gotta shower before I do anything else,” David tells you, starting the car and pulling out of his spot, “It’s been like that in there since three. I’ve been sweating like a bitch; I feel disgusting.” He casually rests his free hand on the inside of your thigh as he drives, leading the small talk – as he always does.

David doesn’t mind being the talkative one; he likes bringing up subjects that are taboo to you, watching you refuse to meet his eyes and blush as he presses the topic, becoming more detailed as he speaks.

He usually goes until you tell him to stop, reacting with an affectionate rub at the skin of your thighs, “Sorry, baby, you know I like seeing you get all worked up and not know what to do about it.”

Once at his place, he quickly showers and changes while you patiently wait on him. It takes him ten minutes, tops, before he’s ready to go.

“Alright,” David says casually, grabbing his keys and motioning to his bedroom door, “Come here, follow me. My roommates and I all deal at least a little bit — I’m the best one of all of us — so this is where we keep our shit.” He takes you into another bedroom, turning the lights on and pulling out his phone.

“Okay, baby,” he sighs, “This is the part that sucks. We gotta go through what everyone wants and weigh this shit. I don’t like weighing as we go. It’s time consuming. It’s gonna take some time. Let me explain how this works. Hand me that bag.”

You do, grabbing it and passing it to him, “So, I’ve got a pretty big amount of this shit – for Chicago, at least. I buy from a guy who grows in Iowa, so I can get his bud for cheap and sell it for good cash here. Weed’s legal now, so it’s kind of fucking me up, but kids eighteen to twenty-one can’t buy, so they’re who I sell to the most. I don’t sell to minors — obviously.”

He continues, “This is a pound, and it’s the best weed I’ve had in a while. Here, in Chicago, this is worth two thousand.”

“Dollars?”

“Yeah,” he laughs slightly, “I buy it for half that, but the most people usually buy at a time from me is an ounce. I go see him like, once a month? It depends on how much people are buying. It’s a long fucking trip and I always have to do it in one day because of work – maybe you can come with me next time I have to go.”

“Anyway,” he sighs as you try to not think about how much money he must be making under the table, “We gotta do this, baby. Here’s the list of people and how much they want.”

Admittedly, he does all of the work, but talks you through the process and answers your questions. He weighs the weed and puts them in plastic bags according to size, writing their name and amount in Sharpie on the front.

You get to a certain guy named Luke, and David reacts, “Oh, fuck Luke. He doesn't get the good shit and never will – I hate his stupid ass. I have a whole stash of shitty weed for him in the cabinet right there.”

David weighs Luke’s weed and describes why it’s shitty and how you can tell, bitching about the kid, “He’s a fucking idiot, though. I overcharge him for terrible weed, and I get texts from him saying how good it is. It takes, like, an entire eighth to feel anything. He’s a rich white nineteen-year-old, so I don’t really feel bad about it.”’

“So, how much will you make tonight?” you ask as he puts it all in one bag, sighing and doing the math in his head.

“Fuck, I don’t know – six hundred? Six fifty? Maybe seven at the most? We can count it when we’re done,” he shrugs, “Let’s get going; it’s getting late. This is my favorite part.”

David goes down the list in his notes and calls them on speaker phone as he drives, script usually sounding the same for every person: “Hey, man. Do you want me to pull up or meet you somewhere? I can do either one.”

Before he meets his first guy, David reaches over and gently tucks your crucifix into your shirt, slightly rubbing at it over your blouse affectionately, “Druggies are atheist shitheads. They’ll talk about it if they notice it. Keep it there until we’re done. I’m sorry.”

It’s too hot seeing him get out of his car, weed in the palm of his hand as he daps his customer up and sneakily slides the cash into his pocket before bidding them a polite farewell, keeping the conversation short.

He has to make about fifteen stops before he’s completely done for the night; some of them ask about you, wondering your name and age, before David defends you, “Alright, bruh, just pay me. Stop hitting on my girl.”

After every time he says it, he feels the need to immediately apologize once you’re alone again: “Sorry again. I know you’re not my girl, but I know you don't want them trying to talk to you. It’s just easier to say you are. They’re not going to fuck with their dealer’s girlfriend – especially since you go to the parties, too.”

David’s parked outside of your apartment building as he quickly begins counting how much money he made, murmuring under his breath as his thumbs do all of the movement. He counts it in under ten seconds, passing the stack of cash to you, “Seven thirty-five. I was close – sold a little more. We didn't even sell that much, honestly.”

“Count it again,” you tell him, “I want to see that again.”

He chuckles, eyes glancing between you and the cash, biting at his lips as he quickly counts it again, “Seven thirty-five, baby.”

“Hot.”

David laughs at you and stuffs the cash into the pocket of his shorts, “Let’s get your shit and go home, honey.”

It's his first time visiting your place, and he expects it to be littered with misplaced Bible references and at least semi-unorganized, but it's not: you’re as organized as he is and oddly, there’s no clear evidence of your beliefs – something which surprises the shit out of him for someone who wears a cross around their neck every single day.

He keeps his eyes mostly to himself as you rifle through your belongings in your room, glancing at your walls and around your living room.

“Jesus, sweetheart, how long are you planning on staying?” He motions towards your bag once you come out, watching your eyes widen.

“I mean...you’re saying could stay longer than tonight?” you suggest, bargaining, “Two nights. I’m off the next two days.”

“Fine,” he gives in, eyes rolling and giggling at you slightly, “I work the day after next, but you can stay as long as you want to, baby. You’re always welcome.” David takes a step towards you, kissing you quickly, “Put your clothes back. You’re gonna be wearing mine.”

“No,” you resist, his hands coming to your waist, “Those are yours.”

“Put them back,” he repeats, kissing you, “Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Ugh,” you groan, listening to him and doing as you’re told – you love when he tells you what to do, and he knows it. It’s his favorite button to push.

You return to him, and his fingers gently tug the chain of your necklace out of your shirt, fixing it so the clasp sits at the nape of your neck. “Better. It feels wrong to see you without it.”

David’s two roommates are home, now, and he briefly speaks with them with you standing at his side, his arm shamelessly thrown around your shoulders.

“Dave,” one of them calls out, “Come here. Dude. Ester called the house. Call her back.”

“What?” he replies, “Why the house? She has my number. Fuck, okay.”

You don't know who Ester is, and David sits on the couch, tugging you into his lap in front of them as he pulls his phone out. His roommates don’t seem to be paying you any mind as they watch TV and smoke, and you wonder how many other girls he’s brought home.

“Bro, she didn't even call my phone,” he states, rolling his eyes, “I didn't think she did. Me and Y/N were just out delivering for, like, two hours.”

“Oh, shit!” the other one exclaims, “You’re Y/N? Sick. Nice to meet you.”

“Sorry, baby,” David apologizes quickly, dialing Ester and introducing you, “Dima. Ilya. Both are idiots and shitty dealers–”

“Heeeey, Ester!” David’s tone changes immediately, “What’s up? Why’d you call the house and not me? Is something wrong?”

You hear a voice on the other line, his arm draped around your waist as he listens, eyes rolling back, “No, Ester, I can't help you with your Precalc homework. I’m sorry, kid. You know that I took idiot classes in high school. You’ve always been smarter than me. Ask Dad! Or, better yet, why don't you just look it up?”

David shuffles slightly with you in his lap and lights a cig, letting you rest your head in his neck, “I’m sorry I can’t help you, honey. You know that I miss you. I want to come up next Friday...I’ll be off. Will everyone be home?”

It’s now obvious that he’s speaking to his sister as he listens to her chatter, absentmindedly rubbing at your back, his leg bouncing up and down, “Okay. I’ll be there. I promise. Tell Ma that I’m coming. I love you, Es. You know you can call me whenever. You’re my best friend.”

He hangs up shortly afterwards, taking a drag from his cigarette and sighing, “Christ. Vernon Hills next week, you guys. It’s official. You fuckers are coming with me, so make sure you’re off,” David demands, motioning towards Dima and Ilya.

“Whatever,” he continues, standing and putting his cigarette out, pulling you with him, “We’ll be upstairs. Leave us alone – she’s staying the night and I’m off tomorrow.”

David daps both of them up, before Ilya speaks, “Sick. Have fun. Goodnight, bro.”

David quickly tells you to ignore him and leads you up to his room, shutting the door behind you. The first thing he does is rifle through his drawers, tossing clothes at you. He’s surprised at how quickly you react, requesting that he unzip the back of your dress.

He does, slowly, pushing your hair away from your neck and patting your waist politely before removing his touch. You pull on his smallest pair of sweats, still having to tighten the draw string around your hips and slipping on one of his t-shirts.

You’re not sure why it feels so easy to be intimate with him in ways you never could with anyone else while only knowing of him for a few weeks; maybe it's how nonchalant he is, or how unabashed he is. Nothing is too embarrassing or unbearable for him, and it rubs off on you.

David’s polite, and doesn't judge you over things you’re ignorant about; he’s happy to explain and guide you if you want to know about what he does, and he fucks heavily with your eagerness to please him and learn.

He doesn't know if this will turn into casual hook ups or something more, he’s going to leave that up to you, but he enjoys your company and bashfulness. It makes his dick hard.

David casually makes out with you on his bed, hands to himself and not grabby, before pulling away and asking, “You wanna smoke?”

“Sure,” you reply, sitting up with him. He digs through his bedside table, muttering, “I’m gonna teach you how to roll. It takes a little bit of practice, I guess. I don’t know – I’ve been doing it for so long, I don't even pay attention anymore. Hand me that tray.”

You lie down on your stomach, facing him as he sits cross legged on his still-made bed. He breaks open a pack of Berry Dutch cigarillos with his teeth, "So, the first step is to split it. Some people can crack a blunt with just their hands. I can't. I need a blade for it." He grabs a razor blade from the tray before sliding the edge of the blade down the middle of the blunt precisely.

"You want it to be a spliff or a blunt? You pick, I don't care," he asks you, watching your clueless features, clarifying, "A spliff has tobacco still mixed in with the weed, and a blunt is straight weed.”

“Um,” you shrug, meeting his eyes, “Blunt, I guess.”

"Okay," he replies, dumping tobacco onto the tray, "Scrape out the tobacco. I’ll clean it up later."

David grabs his weed and his grinder, "Grind your weed down into shake – it takes, like, a gram or a gram and a half to fill up a blunt." He stuffs the grinder and closes it, twisting it and tapping the top.

“I don't smoke what I sell,” he explains, “My personal stuff is from one of my buddies in Vernon Hills.”

“Oh,” you reply confusedly, “Why not?”

“‘Cause Biggie said not to,” David shrugs, quoting, “‘Rule Number Four: I know you heard this before, ‘Never get high on your own supply.’ You know, like, Scarface?”

“...What are the other rules?” You ask, not getting it.

He chuckles, scoffing slightly, “Later, babe.”

“Anyway,” he says, getting back to the subject, “Some people put in a filter at the front, but...I don't have time for that. I’m too impatient for it," he explains, "Hold the blunt wrap and dump it, but make it even."

He spreads out the shake into the blunt while flattening it against the tray, folding the seams over each other, "Roll."

"You lick," he demands, leaning down and holding up the edge for you to lick, "Along the line. Not too much, though. Just enough."

You obey and he watches your tongue, making a soft noise at the sight, "Goooood. Now, we stick it."

David sticks the seams together, folding and pressing them together, "Okay, now you bake it, baby."

He fumbles for his lighter, a fancy refillable Zippo, flipping it open and running it over the sides to ensure they stay conjoined. He puts it between his lips, lighting it and blowing out the flame at the end.

David hits it, placing the tray on the floor by his bed, passing it to you, “Done. It’s pretty easy, just remember: split, empty, grind, stuff, roll, lick, stick, and bake.”

You get better at hitting it by yourself every time you smoke with him, exhaling easily as you scoot over to him. You pass it back to David as he lies against his headboard, tugging you into his chest and placing his hand on your waist.

“David,” you say after a few minutes of passing it back and forth, him grunting out a Hmm? a response, “Um. You asked me last week what I like. I don't know, but what do you like?”

“I’m not telling you yet,” he stifles a laugh, moving to put the roach out in an ashtray on his nightstand, “‘Cause I don't want you to like something just ‘cause I do. You wanna find out what you like?”

“Yeah,” you nod, blushing, “For you.”

“Okay,” he gives in, shrugging, “Can I touch you?”

You nod as he sits up and stands from the bed, “Whatever you wanna do. Go ahead.”

David tells you to stay where you are, rubbing at his eyes and grabbing his laptop, tossing it on his bed in front of you, “We’re gonna watch porn. Take the sweats off.”

“Wait-,” you say nervously, chewing at your lips, “Nevermind. Okay.” You obey him, untying the string and pushing the garment past your hips, already nervous.

“Don’t get anxious, baby,” David reassures as he climbs into bed with you again, “I’ve got you – this is just the easiest way to find out. Sit between my legs.”

He leans his head over your shoulder and logs into PornHub, wrapping one of his arms around your torso comfortingly as he feels you already blush against him. You’re visibly mortified as he clicks a video in his recommended tab, his free hand coming to palm you over your underwear.

You make a slight noise before he hushes you quietly, “Watch. Don’t touch yourself.”

David doesn't move his hand as he reads your body language, not watching the video at all as you buck up into his touch. “You like that or you like me touching you?”

“You,” you reply, clearing your throat and repeating yourself, “You.”

“Stop thinking about me being here,” he advises, voice gruff behind you, “Think about me doing the things to you that they’re doing. Think how you would if I wasn't here. Got it?”

You nod against him, eyes on the screen as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his torso. Your breath becomes heavy as you watch the man eat the woman out and finger her, wanting it to be you and David. Your pussy must be thinking the same thing you are as you involuntarily twitch and clench against his touch.

David murmurs in approval, “Good. Just like that, baby.”

He switches to another video, a deep throatfuck, and watches your face as the woman gags around her partner – lips parted and breathing heavily. Again, you want it to be you and David, but you tell him this time, cheeks red: “I wanna be able to do that for you.”

“We can work up to that,” he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck, “I like that too.”

“That’s enough of that for now,” David says, reaching forward and shutting the computer, “We can do it again tomorrow. We’re not done – I want to touch you.”

He breathes over your shoulder, muttering and tugging at the waistband of your underwear, “But can you take these off for me?”

You do, slipping them down your thighs and legs before he moves from behind you. David props you against the pillows, where he was, and lies on his stomach between your legs, scooting himself closer.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he comments as his eyes land on your pussy, gasping softly and glancing back up at you, “Can I touch you?”

You say a quiet yeah before his fingers are spreading your pussy apart delicately with one hand, the other arm wrapping around one of your thighs. He places his free hand on top of your stomach affectionately, eyes flitting between you and your pussy.

“Oh, God,” David says to himself, fingertips running over your folds and collecting your slick. You’re so wet he can hear every move his fingers take, and David takes it upon himself to press kisses up along the inside of your thigh, meeting your eyes and watching your face as he slips his middle finger inside of you.

There's so much resistance that, even with your wetness, he can barely get it inside of you. He watches your mouth drop open silently in response, before he speaks, “Holy fuck. I don't know what I was expecting, but you’re so tight.”

“If it hurts at any point, tell me,” he advises, moving his arm from around you to spread you apart again, still in disbelief at the sight, “Fuck me.”

You’re embarrassed as he spits on you for more lube, spreading it around and rubbing it in before trying to move his finger again. You gasp as he hits the knuckle and he glances up at you quickly, not saying anything – he knows the difference between a good and a bad gasp.

“Jesus,” David advises, pulling his finger out slowly and spreading you apart, “I can literally see your…”

He cuts himself off and trails, not wanting to finish his sentence, moving from between your legs and into his nightstand. You make a noise before he hushes you, “Shh. Give me a sec. I’m not done. This’ll make it easier.”

He grabs lube and settles between your thighs once more, putting some on his fingers and beginning to touch you, “It doesn't even look like you touch yourself.”

“I don’t,” you admit, embarrassed as he gapes at you slightly.

“Oh, my God,” he says simply, slipping his middle finger in easier this time, “So you’ve never cum?”

You shake your head and he exhales sharply, beginning to move it in and out, “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t be nervous.”

“Relax, babygirl. You’re too tense right now – even with the weed,” he comments, still working, “Stop thinking so much.”

You sigh and nod, trying to relax yourself, but it doesn't work, and David pulls away entirely, “Now’s not a good time.”

“What? Yes-” you attempt to reply before he cuts you off, shaking his head.

“No. It’s not,” he moves to lie next to you as you slip the sweats back on, kissing your forehead, “It’s okay. It’s not a bad thing, I promise. You’re just super in your head right now. We can try again later.”

“Ugh, I just want to be able to-”

“I know,” he replies, moving to light a cigarette, “I know, honey. We’re both high, though – maybe when we’re sober.”

You move to rest your head in his neck as he gazes at the ceiling, “Your pussy is so nice, no cap.”

“It is?”

“Hell yes,” he says confidently, “Ugh. Wow. I’m gonna have dreams about that one tonight.”

“David...” you trail nervously, anxious to ask your question, “Can I ask you something? How many girls have you been with?”

“Honestly, sweetheart,” he replies with ease, still nonchalant about something so personal, “I don't know anymore. I don’t keep track. Maybe thirty? I don't even remember most of their names. If you’re asking because of, like, STDs - you don’t gotta worry about anything. I’m clean.”

“That’s not why I was asking,” you clarify, getting the guts to take his cigarette from him and taking a drag, easily now, “I wasn’t worrying about that, but literally, like...how?”

He shrugs as you pass the Camel back to him, “You’re a nice girl, baby. I’m not nice. That’s how.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you move to look at him, “You are nice, though.”

David scoffs, “Honey, I’m a drug dealer. Just because I’m a good man doesn’t mean I’m nice.”

“Yeah, but...you’re nice to me? You don’t even have to be. You could be mean and I’d still want to have sex with you and stuff.” You’re still confused as he takes a final drag and puts out his cigarette, tugging you closer.

“You saying that is exactly why I’m not a nice guy,” he promises, “Because you don’t even have to tell me that. I know you would.”

You don’t understand at all and you sigh against him, David continuing, “I know that I’m nice to you, baby, but that’s because I like you. Why are you even picking me to do this with?”

You roll to settle on top of him, looking up at him, “I don’t really know. I just trust you. Don’t deflect...You like me? I thought you just wanted to fuck me once and leave.”

“Ew, it’s so weird hearing you curse,” David reacts, nose scrunching up, “Yeah, I like you. No shame in it.”

He pushes your hair out of your face and licks his lips as he watches you blush at his words, replying, “I like you, too.”

“Yeah?” he says, “Your parents definitely wouldn’t.”

You roll your eyes, “My parents can - Ugh. I’m twenty-two. I can date who I want. I don’t want my father knowing what goes on in bed, and honestly? It’s kind of weird that he feels the need to know.”

“Jeez,” David’s eyebrows fly up, “I thought you were, like, devout.”

“I am,” you shrug, “But just because he took a celibacy vow doesn’t mean I can’t get laid. He’s not even a priest, ‘cause he has kids. The Church won’t let him be. Ever.”

“So, what is he, then? My parents are Catholic, but they don’t go to church here. They said they liked Slovakia’s better,” David asks, eyes on yours, “‘Cause, you know, they speak Slovak.”

“I don’t even know what he is,” you admit, “He won’t tell us. My mom knows. He’s just not a priest. I think he resents me and my brothers for it.”

“Bruh,” David says informally, rolling his eyes, “I’m sorry, but, like...fuck your dad.”

“No, I agree. It’s okay,” you shake your head, “Fuck my dad.”

“Ew,” he reacts the same way, “Stop it. It sounds so dirty coming out of your mouth.”

You giggle and move up to kiss him slowly, arms wrapped around each other, before David breaks, “After we fuck, lemme meet your parents.”

You laugh slightly, surprised, “Okay. Why? You’re gonna have...to not be you.”

“Because,” he kisses you again, “I just want the satisfaction of knowing I railed the fuck out of their daughter when it’s something they fear so much.”

“You’re such a bad influence,” you press, rolling your eyes, “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“You want it,” he rolls both of you over, now hovering over you, “That’s the goal.”

“I guess so.”

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik fic #david dobrik au #david dobrik imagines #vlog squad #vlog squad fic #vlog squad au #vlog squad fanfic #vlog squad x you #david dobrik x you #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Field of Poppies Part 3

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 3: Amelia questions the Shelbys actions as they establish themselves as bookies.

March 1909

Polly said that Amelia wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be joining the family for dinner. The only one who seemed hung up on this fact was Tommy. The others were happy to go about eating and chatting about their day. As John had predicted, Ada seemed to forget what she was crying about that morning. She was all too excited to tell everyone that she had been the best at double-dutch in the schoolyard. Even better than that no-good-pigtailed-bratty-stuck-up-snob Ingrid.

Tommy wasn’t too interested in the mundane details of his family’s life. His mind was elsewhere, so he finished dinner quickly and headed upstairs.

When Amelia arrived, Polly had to rearrange the Shelbys to make room. Tommy had to camp out on the couch a bit longer than he would’ve liked because none of his siblings could agree to any proposed arrangement. John and Ada didn’t want to bunk together. Arthur argued he was the oldest and should have his own room. And none of them wanted to be placed with Finn. Finally, Polly put her foot down. Tommy and John would share a room and that was that.

But when Tommy passed what once was his room, the door was open and it was empty. He frowned and continued down the cramped hall. The bathroom door was closed and he could hear retching from inside. He lightly knocked on the door. “Mel? Alright?”

The young woman cleared her throat and stood up from her spot kneeling at the toilet. She rinsed her mouth out in the washbasin and opened the door. “I’m okay.”

“Sounded like you were getting sick.”

“It’s normal with the baby.” She assured him; a bit embarrassed that he’d heard her.

“Oh.” He nodded and could remember times when his mother was ill with his siblings. But he hadn’t thought much of it. She had always put on a brave face for her kids. “Pol said you weren’t feeling well.”

“Long day, I guess.” She moved past him and went back to the bedroom.

Tommy followed even if she didn’t really invite him to. He leaned up against the doorframe. “Anything you want to talk about or I could fuck off ‘n leave you be.”

She laughed softly and waved him into the room. “Close the door, would you?”

He obliged, going to sit on a chest across from the bed, by the nearly empty desk. Even if it was his room, he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

Amelia sat down on the bed and leaned down to remove her stockings. She felt so sluggish and weary but couldn’t tell if it really was just because of her busy day or because her mind was a factory of worries. She tossed the stockings toward the hamper and began to unpin her hair.

“What’s on your mind? You look-concerned.”

“Do you think that not having your father around really…well, I guess that’s a stupid fucking question. I just…” She groaned when she couldn’t find the words to voice her distress. She realized she wouldn’t get anywhere if she was asking rhetorical questions in some roundabout way. “Do you think that my child will hate me because they won’t know their father? Honestly, be honest.”

Tommy was surprised. He expected she would go to Polly with such a problem. True, they were longtime friends but what did he know about children and parenthood? “I don’t think your child would hate you for anything? You’ll be a great mother, Mel, you know that.”

Amelia tipped her head up to the ceiling. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she didn’t want them to fall. “I want you to be honest with me, Tom, not to say nice things. We both know nothing in this fucking world is nice.”

“Hey, now. Look at me. Amelia, look at me.”

She did so, reluctantly. A tear slipped down her cheek as she met his blue eyes.

“Yeah, so the world’s a pile of shit. But there are nice things if there weren’t then what would be the point of living, aye?” He pointed out. “I don’t know what your child will say ‘bout anything. But I know that they’ll think the world of you because you did everything for them. That’s something, right?”

She shook her head. Everything in her wanted to stay miserable. She wanted to torture herself because she felt she deserved it. All of her actions had led her to that moment. She deserved what she got. But Tommy’s words coaxed her gently to a nicer place. A place where there was hope. There was the possibility that she could succeed in raising her child.

“I’ll say it again but you’ve got a family here. We’re gonna help you out. And-and if I need to step in as some sorta father figure than I will.” He straightened up a bit as he finished. Suddenly determined to take on the challenge he’d thrust upon himself.

“Tom…”

“I’m serious.” He reiterated with a half-smile. “I mean, I may not be any good at it, but I’ll try. I said I’d take care of you and I intend on doing that. I’m not some good for nothing like-” He purposefully didn’t finish his thought. It didn’t need to be finished; they both knew they were talking about Arthur Sr. Tommy strove to be the exact opposite of his father. He wouldn’t beat his children, wouldn’t drink their money away, would provide for them, would make sure dinner was always on the table, would give them a sense of safety and love. He could give that to Amelia’s child, they both deserved to be treated well. Why shouldn’t Tommy be the one to do so?

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Amelia looked hesitant. Would it be nice to have a strong male figure in her child’s life? Of course. She worried what would happen without one. But to put that responsibility on someone else her age? They were both still so young.

“You don’t have to ask.” He shrugged and stood up. “Are you feeling a bit better? I could see if they spared you any leftovers downstairs.” He offered as if it were the first thing he could do to prove he was fit to help her out.

She smiled. “Maybe a bit of bread.”

“Alright, just be a mo’.”

May 1909

After his talk with Amelia, Tommy was more intent on setting up the betting shop as soon as they could. The empty place offered so many possibilities in his eyes. Possibilities that could lift him and his family out of poverty. Both he and Arthur knew it would be an uphill battle. There were already plenty of betting shops tucked away in the dark corners of Birmingham and elsewhere. Using fronts as laundry, pubs, or even butchers. Beyond that, there were men who controlled the tracks. They fixed races to their heart’s delight and didn’t take kindly to others who tried to do the same. Without explicit permission, of course. Their bookies were violent and no one in their right mind would go after them. Maybe that’s why everyone thought Arthur and Tommy were mad.

And perhaps they were, but that didn’t stop them from beginning to take bets out of the shop attached to the flat.

Polly wanted to be upset that her nephews were bringing trouble so close to their home. But she couldn’t deny the income that they were starting to bring in. It wasn’t much at first, but it was something. Something that could be counted on for groceries or unexpected expenses. And since Tommy and Arthur had stopped attending school around thirteen, they made mistakes with the odds. So, Polly felt she could step in and mind the books better than they could. She never claimed to be a saint.

Being a charming man meant Tommy could count on a lot of people joining his little setup. People he’d known for years and could trust. Danny Owens was a good friend with a good heart, Freddie Thorne knew him from Greta’s meetings. Jeremiah attended church with Polly but he wasn’t shy of a little criminal behavior to survive. There were others, but there was a hierarchy of trust that Tommy took very seriously. Family always came first.

But with the betting shop came trouble. Other bookies weren’t so keen that the Shelbys were starting to dip their toes in the business. There was already enough competition in Birmingham alone. So, trouble started to brew.

It started with just some harassment. A few threats and taunts. The Birmingham Boys apparently weren’t going to chalk the Shelbys up to just some amateurs. Even if there was a whiff of a potential threat, they learned to step in and snuff out the problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s why, a few months after the betting shop was established, Tommy was jumped by five men. Luckily, they hadn’t roughed him up too badly. But he did look to be in bad shape when he staggered into the flat. He was limping and held a blood-soaked handkerchief to his nose

“Tom!” Amelia gasped in horror when he came inside and ran into her at the base of the stairs. Six months pregnant, Polly had warned her to be a bit more cautious when it came to surprises and overexerting herself. But of course, she couldn’t be prepared for everything Tommy decided to get into.

“S’alright, s’alright.” He grunted and made his way into the kitchen. He was certain one of his ribs was broken and his nose might have been too. It hadn’t exactly been a fair fight. He was taken completely by surprise as five of the Birmingham Boys popped out around a dark corner and immediately pummeled him to the ground. Once the initial blow wore off, Tommy tried to fight back but there wasn’t much use. Had Arthur been there, maybe they would’ve had a chance. But alone, he was knocked to the ground and had his ribs kicked in as the older men shouted slurs at him.

“What happened?” She followed him, still in shock.

“Got attacked.” He answered through the cloth over his nose and mouth. He went to the water pump and tried to get it going but the pain in his side was too much. He winced in pain and stifled a yelp.

Amelia quickly dragged a chair over to the pump and made him sit. She filled up the basin with a bit of water and found a dishcloth to use. “Can I see?”

Tommy removed the bloodied handkerchief. The blood seemed to have ebbed by the time he limped home.

She carefully began to wipe the blood away from his face. “What else hurts?” She asked. They could talk about what happened when she was sure he was okay.

“Me ribs.” He rested a hand over the painful spot.

“Alright, well, let me clean you up and I can have a look.”

Tommy took a few deep breaths. His heart was still racing and of course he was still pissed off that he’d been bested. Of course, he could take some solace that he was severely outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Still, it bruised his ego.

Amelia tried to lighten the mood a bit. “You looked like this after you beat up Ben Hearn because he kissed me.”

It drew a smile from him as he remembered the event from when they were around ten-years-old. Tommy was heartbroken when he heard around school that Ben had kissed his best friend and secret crush. But when he got word that Amelia hadn’t wanted to kiss Ben in the first place, Tommy decided to get retribution. Ben had gotten a lucky punch and made Tommy’s nose bleed. But that only angered him more to the point where Arthur had to pull his younger brother off the other boy because it looked like Tommy had murder in his eyes.

“You knocked out his tooth.”

Tommy shook his head. “I knocked out two of his teeth.” He corrected with a familiar smirk. “And he deserved it.”

Amelia sighed. “You were always getting into trouble back then. I thought maybe it would change when we got older but…” She rinsed the cloth and watched the red water trickle into the basin. “Maybe this betting shop idea is too dangerous.”

“Mel-”

“I know why you’re doing it, and I admire your initiative but you have to know what you might be risking. Money won’t do us any good if you’re injured or-”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry.”

She hung the wet cloth against the side of the basin and turned back toward him. “Tom, if you’re coming home like this then I think I have a reason to be worried!” She exclaimed.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll sort it out.” He promised.

Amelia wanted to scold him further but didn’t have the heart to. Besides, once Tommy set his mind to something, there wasn’t much hope for swaying him. Getting beat up never stopped him before, it likely wouldn’t stop him in the future. “You said your ribs hurt too?” She asked quietly.

He nodded.

“I can take a look at them but if they’re broken you ought to go see a doctor.” She washed any stray stains of blood off her hands and the washbasin.

“Can’t afford a doctor right now.” Tommy stood up with a grunt and returned the chair to the table. He didn’t want Polly asking questions the next morning if she found the kitchen in disarray.

“What do you mean? I thought Arthur said you had a good week. Said you had extra money.” Amelia dried her hands.

“We did.”

“So, where’s the money?” She questioned further.

“I spent it.” Tommy grabbed a bottle of stout and uncorked it.

“On what?”

“You’ll see tomorrow, Mel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Saturday and Amelia had the day off. She watched over John and Ada to give Polly a well-needed break.

The weather was unseasonably warm so she took the two kids outside to play so they wouldn’t be cooped up indoors. Amelia sat on the steps darning one of her stockings while Ada skipped rope and John played football in the street with other neighborhood kids.

There was a small group of people next door waiting to place bets for the next day’s race. To the untrained eye, they looked fairly inconspicuous. Amelia hadn’t asked what might happen if the cops would catch wind of the operation. No one mentioned it, so she assumed they either had it handled or intentionally didn’t want to think about it. Still, Polly had instilled in everyone that if the police were to come around, no one knew a thing about betting shops.

“S'cuse me miss, is Tommy Shelby ‘round?”

Amelia looked up from her stockings and smiled. “Danny?”

The young man’s face broke into a look of disbelief. “Mellie? Is that you?” He removed his hat and got closer. “Tom said you’d come back; wasn’t sure I’d recognize you.” Danny Owens had been a longtime friend of the Shelbys. As a boy he was much taller than anyone in class but was quite awkward and quiet. He was from a very poor family, just like the rest of them. He was painfully shy from growing up with an abusive father. But once Tommy and Arthur took him under their wing, he became a bit more confident. He wasn’t much for fighting but if it was necessary to protect his friends, he would step in. Though, most kids wouldn’t even try to fight him because of his size and broad shoulders.

Yet, Amelia had always known him as someone with a gentle side. “It’s been a while.” She agreed. “How’s your family?”

“They’re good. Yeah, everyone’s good.” Danny fidgeted with his hat as he spoke to her.

She could tell he didn’t really want to talk about his family which was all well and good. Amelia didn’t want to talk about hers either. “You were after Tommy?”

“You haven’t seen him ‘round have you?”

“He should be in the shop. You can go through the kitchen if you’d like.” Amelia scooted to the side so Danny could get by.

“Thanks, Mel. Glad you’re back.” He smiled and walked into the flat.

As he passed, she noticed his knuckles were bruised and there was a bit of blood smeared over the top of his hand. It sent a shiver down her spine as she realized it wasn’t just Tommy getting into trouble. Everyone she once knew as a child was getting caught up in this violence. It might’ve been small skirmishes, akin to the ones they used to get into in the schoolyard. But Amelia reasonably knew that there were much larger stakes at risk. None of them labeled their actions as organized crime, but that’s what it was. Amelia had heard about large scale gangs in London who controlled a lot more than just horse races. They had control over pubs and other businesses, paid off the police, and there were rumors that they had influence over government too.

She wasn’t sure that was Tommy’s end game but she also didn’t know if he had any control over that. Could someone remove themselves from the lifestyle? Or were they in it for life?

With a sigh, she set her stockings aside and checked on John and Ada across the street. There were so many questions about the future that she couldn’t even try to begin to answer. All she could do was see what came of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same night, Amelia was in the kitchen making dinner while Ada rattled on about how she was going to go riding tomorrow and how Uncle Charlie might let her try to jump.

The front door opened and Tommy poked his head inside. “Mel?” He called.

“In the kitchen!” She replied.

“Right, stay there, don’t come upstairs ‘til I say.”

She raised an eyebrow but listened and continued peeling potatoes while Ada went on about horses.

There were a few bumps against the wall and the staircase railing after the front door shut.

“Fucking hell, this thing weighs a ton!” Arthur cursed.

“Oi, be careful.” Tommy chided.

“Be careful? It’s gonna damage me ‘fore I damage it!”

A couple bangs and thumps and swears later, Tommy called Amelia upstairs.

She and Ada went up and found him and Arthur in the bedroom. She looked confused until she saw the cot in the corner. Her mouth popped open in shock. “Tom?”

He smiled a bit sheepishly. “For the baby.”

“But I thought…I thought we would just move Finn’s in here.” She walked over to the new piece of furniture.

“That thing’s older than any of us.” He shook his head. “Ought to toss it once Finn’s done with it.”

Amelia ran a hand over the smooth oak wood. It was pristine, no nicks, or peeling varnish to be found. There were even intricate designs in the solid wood side and legs. She felt herself getting teary-eyed. She was didn’t even notice as Arthur herded Ada out of the room and back downstairs. “This is what you spent the money on?” She asked.

Tommy nodded and shrugged. “The baby needs one, so why not?”

She sniffled and went to hug him tightly. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

He hugged her back, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Then adoration swept over him. He hadn’t realized how much he loved making Amelia happy. He was always fond of her, but seeing her smile was one of the best things to see, in his opinion. Maybe he was still too young to know what love was, but he had a hunch that what he was feeling was love.

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fwoopersongs · 3 years

Text

何必诗债换酒钱 - Notes

youtube

Clean version here and thoughts under the cut.

I saw the song translation notes made by @shelterfromrain a while back and thought, wow! what a fantastic idea it is to share the results of the rabbit holing (that you inevitably end up engaging in when doing this) and leave a record for your future self while at it too! Currently some of the song and poetry translations on fwoopersongs do have little notes, but those were casually written on the fly and after so long, the thought process behind certain choices often get forgotten, which is such a waste... Long story short - I’m doing it this way from now on!

This song was requested by @peerlesssqq on twitter - which may or may not have bumped it up by like a year on my list (yes, I’ve been sitting on it since 2018 and you’ll see why) - and I had WAY more fun than expected, so 谢啦 ~ It was a delight to receive your DM request. I was happy for days!

Some background: 《何必诗债换酒钱》 is the theme song of 【文定乾坤】- a collection of musical works that feature notable contributors to Chinese literature in ancient times, poets and the like. Oh, and I did notice that the MV on bilibili looks like it could be a promo for a webtoon or game. Who knows? I’ll be checking out the rest of the songs, that’s for sure!

The following part of this post will be my thoughts for first the title, then each section - the intro, verse 1 & 2 and the chorus, ending off with some final comments.

Disclaimer first though (otherwise later you read already then feel like beating me up): Everything in this post is only my interpretation of the song. I have quite limited familiarity with mainland literature and culture, so of course don’t expect much xD Here you’ll only find a story-loving banana who jiak-ed kantang too much in her youth and now regrets it a whole lot. 说好了哈 I’m pants at analysis, worse at Chinese, and am not at all good with words ok?

Title

So《何必诗债换酒钱》, let’s start off with the word here that’s unfamiliar to most of us:

诗债 | shī zhài or a debt of poems/poetry debt is a legit thing! - All you authors and artists out there might be familiar with it - It’s what you call the resulting debt when a poet promises to write something for another person but hasn’t done it yet. Procrastination has apparently always been the curse of content creators.

In fact, in the Bai Juyi’s poem that came up on the 诗债 baidu page《晚春欲携酒寻沉四著作先以六韵寄之》- possibly addressed to a friend he owes - he was complaining of illness, old age and writer’s block. But then oh, he goes on and then I passed by a party where they had drinks, and was quite up to my gills & totally out of it for some time, and THAT’S why I’ve done you dirty and owe you ever so many poems. I don’t really understand the last two lines but apparently he then offers to bring a drink for this person he’s talking to, mentions a wish to meet a winter goddess (????? pretty girl? or the snow? idk which), and starts reminiscing the times that were like a precious string of pearls they had singing at Yang Pass. Most likely farewells, but without context I just don’t get it. Anyway bribery and misdirection huh? I see what you did there bro, and I’m sure the person you attempted to distract saw it coming too...

何必 | hé bì, is a rhetorical question of Must you really? In the case of this word, 何 functions as roughly ‘is it that’ and 必 as ‘it must be so’.

换酒钱 | huàn jiǔ qián is of course, exchange for money to purchase wine.

‘Must you really promise poems in exchange for money to buy wine?’ then is the literal translation of 何必诗债换酒钱.

So here is the question: Is alcohol worth a poetry debt? Onwards to the answer!

Intro

生就诗骨算来三百篇 Born and already a poet to the bones, (with) three hundred works counting up to now.

浪掷秦淮长安风流李杜王白 Spending lavishly in Qinhuai and Chang’an, free/unrestrained as Li and Du, Wang and Bai;

余下十分便随意肩上担 whatever left is divided in ten parts, casually thrown over a shoulder

权作金玉铜板相谢好人间 and taken for jade, gold and coin, a big thank you to this good world!

I interpreted the 生 in the first line as 天生 i.e. innate, natural born talent, so this first line describes someone born with a gift for poetry with ‘three hundred’ works to their name. Although... that three hundred should not be taken too literally, it’s more likely to be an allusion to collected works like the 16th century anthology of poems, Three Hundred Tang Poems. After all, Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei and Bai Juyi are the most famous Tang Dynasty poets… and they were all name-dropped in the next line!

浪掷 | làng zhì was a new phrase for me, and means something like spending freely and lavishly or willfully wasted. Of course Chang’an was the capital during the Tang Dynasty and it was the world's most populous city at the time. One can only imagine how prosperous it must have been… and what fun things were there to spend your money on! The banks of Qinhuai river and that general area was once a gathering place for noble/wealthy families, scholars looking for a good time (and some say, the red light district xD). Though by Sui/Tang, that area was no longer doing as well due to political shifts. So the mental image I got from 浪掷秦淮长安 is of someone gallivanting through places of interest, from the bustling and prosperous to the dilapidated.

风流 | fēng liú is as always, hard to translate with no full equivalent in english. The feel it gives me ranges from, ‘cool, dashing bloke on a galloping horse with their cloak/robes/hair flowing elegantly in the wind’ to ‘pleasure seeking dandy who totally knows how to enjoy life, all the courtesans know him by courtesy name!’.

The third line started with 余下十分, which will not make any sense - why leftover? Divide what by ten? - until its put in context with the following:

Three hundred poems 算来三百篇 + 权作金玉铜板 pretend they are gold/jade/money (权作 | quán zuò just means to take one thing for another temporarily.)

The load thrown over the shoulder 肩上担

Spendthrift behaviour on tour 浪掷秦淮长安

The TITLE: bro so u wanna promise poetry in exchange for money to drink? why.

Let’s take those precious poems that can be exchanged for gold - a whole bagful of scrolls, and now I’m so rich I can scatter my money down the streets of entertainment districts and the capital! The very image of a 风流 poet, reckless and free spirited.

// Folks, please learn from this silly girl and do not read songs (or poems) line by line. They need to be appreciated at a distance, not one inch from your eyeballs.

Verse 1

两分与月劳烦身前打点 Two parts to the moon, (may I) trouble you to take care of me while I’m alive.

哪处巍峨峰峦当借我悬来观 Wherever there are majestic peaks and ranges, do lend me (your light) to hang and see by.

三分典高楼好与长风赴宴 Three parts pawned for the tall building, good for attending the banquet alongside the wind,

遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 searching for charming little stars, easily caught to play with.

Now we get to see how the poet is spending his ‘wealth’. This verse is a lot more literal as compared to the introduction, so there’s not much to say.

打点 used here is so interesting! Because it’s what you call bribing someone in a superior position to smoothen your path ahead (so to speak). Thanks to a childhood of tvb drama, I vaguely associate the type of people who would 打点 with rich merchant or minor noble fathers who want to give their sons an easier time at court. Either that or lower ranked officials with less moral scruples. Anyway, what’s being said in the song is something like: here is 20% dear moon, I’ll have to trouble you to bless me for the rest of this lifetime, and also please lend me your light to see by when I have need of it at scenic spots *for art*. The moon is a muse for many poets in all its forms after all… 明月, 圆月, 孤月, 残月, 冷月, 江月, 秋月 and so on.

Actually that whole sentence 劳烦身前打点 is so playful and fun that I put it in quotation marks to emphasize it. We’ve only just begun. Is the speaker already drunk?

And with the third line, 30% has been spent. Just noting here that 典 | diǎn can be read as pawn or mortgage. Another interesting thing to note would be that this imagery of ascending a tall building 高楼 and reaching out for stars 星子 in the last two lines of Verse 1 brings to mind one particular poem, famously attributed to Li Bai. Following translation by yours truly.

《夜宿山寺》- Overnight at the Mountain Temple 危楼高百尺 | dangerously towering a hundred feet high 手可摘星辰 | the stars are within reach 不敢高声语 | one dares not raise their voice 恐惊天上人 | for fear of disturbing the deities

Though the two probably have nothing to do with each other, doesn’t the reverence in the tone of this one bring out the playful irreverence of the other? So. Much. Fun. I adore the whole feel of 遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 SO MUCH.

Verse 2

两分与桥歇脚南北行船 Two parts to the bridge where travellers on foot and by boat from the north and south can rest,

欣然八方风物闲话半日茶碗 delighted by the scenery all around, idly chatting half the day away over bowls of tea.

三分典流水润色枯瘦石山 Three parts for the running water, moistening the gaunt stone mountains

又将天地一展伸手试浓淡 and again spreading heaven and earth wide, reaching out to test the viscosity (of the water).

It took a few listens, but in the end I really enjoyed the aesthetics here. And again, this verse is quite straight to the point albeit with two things I cannot understand.

The first point of confusion for me is why the lyricist chose to use 桥 | qiáo, a bridge as the place for people to rest on their journeys. I assumed here that this in reference to a pier or dock, assumed also that he is donating funds for this structure to be built or repaired. However, if that were the case 坞 | wù would have been enough - 船坞 was supposedly invented only in the Song Dynasty though, so maybe that’s why another word was chosen. But it’s not like there is any incidence of 桥 being used to mean ‘dock’ either!

The second thing that confuses me is the use of 典 for 流水. In verse one, that 典 was referring to the poetry works sold to reserve the venue for a banquet. That usage was apt. Here I suspect it might be for parallel structure, because there is no alternative reading for 典 that might allow one to use their 30% 三分 to do anything to flowing water 流水. That’s the literal reading, of course.

If we’re taking this a little less literally, it can be interpreted as borrowing the scenery (figuratively, since the place would not belong to anyone in the way you might own a property) to admire. It also expands on the second line’s mention of the surrounding view 欣然八方风物; there is running water which completes 润色 and brings the appearance of the gaunt and rocky mountains 枯瘦石山 closer to perfection.

润色 | rùn sè means to polish, to bring to greater heights. When you say something has been 润色 it is made more brilliant and closer to perfection by that addition. It can also mean moisten.

We always hear ‘rivers and mountains like a painting’ 江山如画 - originating from Su Dongpo’s《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》- used when the scenery is wonderful, because how often is real life as ideal as what we can imagine and depict? And that is exactly what is described here. The feeling out if the ‘water’ is concentrated or diluted 试浓淡 is used in answer to 一展 unfurling. 浓淡 of ink to 一展 of painting scroll. The land and sky seem like an ink wash painting, so beautiful that the viewer cannot help but reach out to run their hand through the water.

Chorus

Chorus Part 1

若趁游兴直到酣 If we take advantage of our wanderlust and go roaming till it is sated,

千字文章不值钱 classics and essays shan’t be worth a coin.

诗换花词换雪 A poem for a flower! A song for snow!

再作檄文斗天官 Another denunciation for those heavenly officials!

Starting off with three new terms for me: 游兴 | yóu xìng means enthusiasm for travel. 酣 | hān can mean having a great time drinking, or being very satisfied and satiated. 檄文 | xí wén is a type of official document written for important announcements, declaration of war, or denunciation and condemnation of certain people or actions.

While I still feel this need to go out to see the world, I shall keep on the road until I am satisfied. Who cares about writing, who cares for study, it’s all worthless to me. I do what I want. And what I want is to write a little poem in exchange for a flower, some lyrics for a flake of snow. I’ll even write a denunciation against those officials in heaven (immortals). Fight me!!!!

I point again at Verse 1 with climbing the tower to play with stars. It’s no longer just playing nearby, now he wants a go at the gods.

Among the four parts of the chorus, this one is the simplest for sure. The lines mean exactly what is said. It also feels the most chaotic and mischievous. Is the speaker drunk? Is he high on something? One thing’s for sure. He’s out of money.

Chorus Part 2

何愁不得一样我 Why feel troubled that (I) cannot have another just like me?

知交尽向话中添 for one who understands you and is understood, look entirely towards stories to fill that place

唐解元嵇中散 people like Tang Bohu (first in provincial examinations) and proud, upright and stubborn Ji Kang

且驰大梦任疯癫 Just chase that great dream, allow yourself to go mad.

I feel like the first two lines are quite straightforward, though they might not appear so on first reading: How could there be a need to feel sad or troubled that I have no like-minded equal. To find a true friend who understands you without need for words, and whom you understand in return, all you need to do is turn to those tales and stories 话中 for people to fill 添 that place.

唐解元 - People like Tang Yin, courtesy name: Bohu 唐寅, 字伯虎 (1470–1524 AD), noted painter, calligrapher and poet of the Ming Dynasty. Tang Yin led a life full of ups and downs that really cannot be covered in a paragraph’s worth of song translation notes. You can check out his wiki page if you’re curious though! There’s a little more on him where I cover the last line of this section. He is addressed as 解元 | jiè yuán here which is the term for the top scorer of the provincial examinations (second stage in the Imperial examination ladder). It is also an honorific for scholars. Tang Bohu is both.

嵇中散 - People like Ji Kang, courtesy name: Shuye 嵇康, 字叔夜, (223–262 AD), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove - a group of friends who wisely kept themselves aloof from the dangerous politics of the Court, and devoted themselves to art, refinement and debate, of the Three Kingdoms period. He was a Daoist philosopher, musician, writer and poet.

An accomplished musician, the qin composition 廣凌散 | guǎnglíng sàn is attributed to Ji Kang, though some versions of the story claim he learned it from a ghost while stopping at a pavillion on his way home. 嵇中散 was one of the names he was known by because of his appointment to the position of Attendant Counsellor, 中散大夫 | zhōng sàn dàfū, a civil official unspecified duties in the court of Cao Wei.

When Ji Kang was sentenced to death for his attempt to testify for a wrongly accused friend, three thousand scholars petitioned for his pardon to no avail. It’s said that at the execution ground, while they waited for the appointed hour, he had his favourite qin brought out and played a brilliant interpretation of Guanglin San that is now forever lost.

Do go read about them both if you have the time!

I would like to point out for the last line that 任 is to allow, to indulge, and it’s just such a heady sensation to say 任疯癫 - indulge in the madness! throw yourself in and don’t look back!

There is an easter egg here too. A nod to a poem by Tang Yin which can be read as his stance on his lifestyle choice after the alleged accusations of bribery in the final step of the Imperial examinations left him disgraced, and unable to pursue a civil career. Thematically the line does not call back to the poem at all, similarities end with the choice of words: chasing the dream 驰大梦 and indulging madness 任疯癫. I leave an excerpt below. Translation again by me.

《桃花庵歌》- Song of a Plum Blossom Cottage // 若将花酒比车马 | if tawdriness and wine were compared against fine carriage and steed 他得驱驰我得闲 | he would have to drive and work hard for speed whilst I have my idle rest 别人笑我太疯癫 | others mock me for my madness 我笑他人看不穿 | i am amused for they do not perceive 不见五陵豪杰墓 | can’t you see that at the Emperors’ mausoleums and heroes’ graves 无花无酒锄做田 | there are no flowers, no wine, only land ploughed for farming

The second part of the chorus isn’t related to the first, but it has the same theme of showcasing the untamable (unhinged xD) spirit of the speaker. This time, the people he admires ‘intellectual equals’ and kindred spirits are featured, the 任性 feeling here has been pushed to greater heights.

Chorus Part 3

敢夸洒落何须酒 If one dares to boast of carefreeness, why, they hardly need wine.

不煮黄粱也称仙 Even without brewing millet they would still be called Immortal.

镜湖桌白梅盏 The tables in the mirror-like lake, white plum blossoms in the cups,

等来春风恰开宴 await the spring breeze which arrives just in time for the feast to start!

Li Bai is regarded as both the god of poetry 诗仙 and god of drunkards wine 酒仙 because he wrote some of his greatest poems while drinking. The first two lines seem to be gently poking fun at that. Like hey, if you dare to claim to be all groovy, surely you have no need for alcohol? Just like how an immortal would still be an immortal without wine, your writing talent should not need any stimulants. This would be the time to mention that 黄粱 | huáng liáng is also known as millet, a type of grain that can be used to brew wine.

洒落 | sǎ luò has a few meanings, like shower down or blame, but the relevant one here would be 洒脱 generous, uninhibited and open. For me it feels similar to 风流 in that there is that ‘free, and exhilaratingly unrestrained’ element. 洒落 is in the most positive sense, being always open to having a good time, but without that dissolute or vaguely whirlwind-romance like connotation of 风流.

It feels like the intensity is letting up a little here - this is a light-hearted and frivolous song all the way through, but the words 洒落, 称仙 and imagery of a clear lake, white plum blossoms and the crisp spring breeze are grounding and sweet. Spirited in a different way from before.

Chorus Part 4

四角天地也醺然 The four corners and heaven and earth are also tipsy,

醉极自有桃李搀 when I’ve overindulged, my students will be there to help.

快意只笔下讨 Gratification can only be claimed from beneath the brush;

何必诗债换酒钱 is falling into poetry debt worth that money for drink?

New words: 醺然 | xūn rán just means drunk. A new word for me though! 桃李 | táo lǐ is literally peach 桃 and plum 李 (李花, also known as 玉梅) flowers, and is a metaphor for students. The term originates from a story in 《韩诗外��》which was set in the Wei Kingdom of the Spring and Autumn period (771 to 476 BCE). There was once a highly ranked official who was sacked from his post and left for the north. He met another gentleman and remarked that the people he helped before did not lift a finger when he was in need. This person replied that, if someone were to plant peach and plum trees in spring, he could relax under their shade in the Summer and taste their fruit in the Autumn. But if that person were to plant weeds, nothing can be done with their leaves in Spring and there would only be burrs to hurt himself on in Autumn. Clearly the people the unfortunate gentlemen had helped before were not worth his effort. Students ought to be carefully selected and carefully cultivated as one would a tree.

Reading the four corners and heaven and earth 四角天地 are also tipsy 也醺然, I imagine the world sort of spinning around the speaker because he is drunk. But that’s okay, because his students (or the trees xD) will be there to support him.

快意 | kuài yì is the feeling of sudden relaxation, and then lightheartedness and joy. In this line, I felt like the intention would be closer to 畅快，爽快 and so chose gratification, because really writing is like scratching an itch isn’t it? Pleasure from satisfaction of a desire. Phrasing it as 笔下讨 is so very fitting though, because 讨 can be interpreted - somewhat contradicting - as either to demand or to beg. What could be more gratifying than having squeezed out the perfect sentence or word under your figurative pen?

So so so after all that, 何必诗债换酒钱? What do you think, is alcohol worth the poetry debt? Is Mr. Poet actually drunk and about to dig himself a deeper hole of owed poems to get even MORE drunk, or has he just been thinking about it all along? :)

Thoughts

This has been such a fun adventure following our madcap big spender from the shining Chang’an to the inviting Qinhuai, shadow of great poets in tow and all. We’ve done everything from talking to the moon and seeing the sights by her light, to boating down a river, dragging fingers through the water. It was sort of like being on a backpacking tour, except with with someone contemplating opening (or perhaps regretting opening this can of worms?) poetry commissions instead of singing in the streets?

Dear reader, if you’ve reached this point of my post, thank you. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do now!

#何必诗债换酒钱 #translation notes #i made a new years resolution and this is step one #i had so many more things to say lol but it's like 1 am and i need to go to bed #this took way longer than i thought it might

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conelly · 4 years

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( luke hemmings, twenty-two, cismale, he/him ) did you see BYRON CONELLY walking down main street earlier? you know who i’m talking about, they’re a DECKHAND. everybody in town says that they’re SANGUINE & NONJUDGEMENTAL, but have a tendency to be IMPRESSIONABLE & VOLATILE too. BYRON has been in town for ONE AND A BIT years. c'mon, they’re always requesting SWEET CAROLINE by NEIL DIAMOND at karaoke nights. well, i’m sure you’ll see them soon! ( ooc: sunny, 22, she/her, est )

hi thanks for tuning in, SUNNY here to tell you all a lil bit about westmere’s very own new nd improved favorite loser below. sorry for this summary being all over the place, it’s kinda how my brain works heh which is kinda perfect bc byron will for SURE be all over the place too ( u can rly tell at a certain point i was like ok i give up + i’m posting mf ). let me know if u have any questions about ‘em and most importantly, lmk if you would like to plot a lil connect or sumn 😙

@westmerestarters

FAMBAM + BACKGROUND

born 14 years after the elder conelly ( wanted brother connect !!! ) entered this word to two parents who didn’t seem to read the job description, it was clear that byron wasn’t planned. and down the line, he’d soon realize through the tumultuous household he was brought up in - perhaps never even wanted.

byron’s parents had one constant - and that was fighting. over anything, all the time. there just wasn’t any love between the two and they stayed together for whatever meaningless reasons until byron hit middle school. ( there might’ve been a super short lull in toxicity once byron was born, but it had to be short as his first memories are nothing shy of toxic. ) it was a messy separation ( they never paid the full legal fees for a full divorce ) - his father moving to the coast of nj & his mother moving to a smaller apartment nearby her own mother ( which, due to the negative relationship among his mother + grandmother, also called for more tension ). he’d often be dropped off @ his grandmother’s house for baby-sitting or when he was ‘ becoming too much to handle. ’ eventually his grandmother moved into his cousin’s house ( MONROE ) and although grateful he made a practically new brother, similar tendencies of feeling unwanted occurred when byron noticed their grandmother praising and coddling and favoriting monroe just a bit more.

( his mother was a struggling addict ( and had been her whole life ), but the loneliness, newfound pressures and whatever excuse she was able to name caused her drinking to spiral worse than byron remembered ( even at his young age ) before. )

( his father was rarely in his life, but when he was, he was THE coolest. always played good cop in any situation regarding his mother, despite choosing not to have an active role in byron’s life. byron looked up to him like no other. when he WAS around, he taught byron how to surf, skateboard, play sports, they’d play video games, they’d eat junk food - honestly anything that byron wanted to do. his dad was an adrenaline junkie and created the stepping stones for byron to be one too. he was a marine biologist & pretty successful at that. passionate, intelligent, but seemingly finding his newfound life a lot better than his previous - which is why he never wanted byron to stay too long, the boy reminded him of her, of the past. )

( his older brother moved out of the house when byron was just a lil kid, they’re not very close and don’t have much in common ... or so it seems. he lives in nyc and they only talk here and there on holidays. he was never a huge part of his life, but it does bum him out to think what could’ve been / could be. )

TO GET THE GIST

due to never receiving the attention he craved from his family members, he made up for it tenfold in school. he was always talking to everyone, loud, boisterous, gregarious, life of the party; he wanted people to like him and they did. he become a total people pleaser, molding himself to make sure everyone was content and stayed around. impressionable, adaptable. he felt less this way towards adults and had a bit of a rebellious phase, hanging with the wrong crowd & getting into things he probably wouldn’t do otherwise. old habits die hard and he still tries his best to make everyone crack a smile, to remember him - since he believes he won’t be remembered for much else.

after he just barely skated by in high school ( his grades were never as good as his cousin’s and never lived up to his father’s expectations ), byron felt a bit lost. a lot of people had plans, were heading off to college - but already under the assumption he couldn’t reach any expectation in that realm ( a lil self fulfilling prophecy am i right pals ), he stayed in town - caring for his mother who hardly had anything together, his uncle who got sick very quickly & passed, spending time with his grandmother, while he himself fell into a rut. most of his days meant he drove out towards his dad’s place ( dad hardly there now, out and about with his new family ), surfing, smoking, and grabbing some cash doing odd jobs any way he could. he lost any purpose he once had ( but yall would never know it bc who wants to be in someone’s life who’s a buzzkill ? all smiles, baby, all smiles. )

IN WESTMERE

when his cousin offered the opportunity to travel cross-country in his van, byron had nothing to lose. always adventurous in spirit, he immediately said yes - deciding to ignore that ‘obligation,’ that feeling to make sure they were a-ok that he felt towards his parents. he needed an out and this was it.

after landing in the small connecticut town for the night, the two fell for it - especially since when they got there along the water, it was a summer night + everything landed into place. they decided to stay there a bit longer ... and that eventually turned into more than a year. still antsy to keep traveling and to move around, byron has been ready to head out ... but stays for a few reasons - and them all being people ( bc lbh the surf is not even on point here ok )

his current job is a deckhand ( on a bunch of boats, ppl prob hired him as word of mouth got around that he knew what he was doing ). prob got that knowledge from being by his dad’s on the water when younger ( he’s ... obsessed with the water ) ! and also he’s just a quick learner ok ( ps: if your charrie has a boat pls let’s make somethin happen )

TO KNOW [ headcanons + more ]

his fav karaoke song is sweet caroline bc he knows everyone will be able to sing nd party along. he does it for the ppl, ppl.

he never saw too many baby / kid pics of himself which was kind of a bummer bc he really only remembers negative times - somehow they overpowered ( i bet lil byron was cute as fuck too fml )

he’s super into drugs, hallucinogenics, honestly you name it. it started off w/ him being impressionable, then bored, and now he just enjoys it. despite his mother’s addiction running through his blood, he still continues to do his thang.

longboards around town so watch your toes

uses 🤙🤙 all the time and not ironically

has an existential crisis on the daily about purpose but keeps that to himself most times

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone pls give me a sugar mama idc how we plot it out they don’t have to hook up they can idk idc i just want someone giving him money or expensive things it can be so much fun ok ,, pool boy ? idk sign me up

pls if your muse has a boat, let him be the deckhand ok it will also be so fun and potentially angsty if he fucks something up

a fling 100% - even multiple ? idc listen he is currently sharing a tiny VAN with his COUSIN he needs a place - like an actual bed - to crash on at night

can he save someone who was potentially drowning pls??? he used to be a lifeguard, it can be a cool/fun thread to write out

omg off of that can he teach someone how to swim

look if anyone is into marine bio, can they somehow know byron’s father ?? i feel like that could make room for a cool plot

also i have an older brother connect on the w/c’s page lmk lmk

give me a good influence that will somehow have him open up + tell him that it’s weird to be so sunshiny all the time. maybe someone who witnesses him at his worst + stays, ya know ??

a bad influence plot where y/c takes this impressionable young lad and puts him through the ringer tbh ( srrsly he’d do a lot for ppl, so ask him to do something illegal for them it’ll be fun )

party pals, smoking pals, on the water 24/7 pals,

co-worker, other ppl that work on the water ( fishermen?? more deckhands?? captains??)

gimmie someone he accidentally bumped into while longboarding ( he’s a large human it might’ve done damage ok )

i want and need enemies ok i know he’s chill as fuck and wants everyone to like him but there’s always a way to find enemies >:o. anything angsty for REAL.

unrequited thing? where he led someone on?? i’m sure he does this constantly

don’t ruin the friendship thing omg plsssss always so fun

look i’m open for it ALL. every plot u have in mind so lay it on me

#westmereintro #TW ADDICTION #nd ... i think that's it

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