#this was a question / discussion brought up internally but i wanted more feedback / ideas so. and also for the record | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emmyhem · 3 years

Text

stormy fears & feelings (l.r.h)

a/n: hey everyone! here’s “stormy fears & feelings”, this is a nonfamous au with roommate!luke. (unedited as usual) this was really fun to write, i intended for it to be short and sweet but i ended up writing for longer than i had originally planned. anyway, i hope you enjoy and are having a great day/night/whatever. i appreciate any and all feedback, and as always my messages are always if you want to chat or anything :) thank youuuu - emmy <33

pairing: roommate!luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: a thunderstorm leaves you awake and scared, and going to your standoffish roommate, who you happen to have an extremely inconvenient crush on for comfort may be your only option to get a good night of sleep.

warning(s): cursing, extremely minor injury, minor angst if you squint

word count: 5k

It really was an awful idea. In any other case it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but you had been on edge all week for no specific reason and thunderstorms had always spooked you.

The storm had started unexpectedly. If you had known earlier you would have ran to the store to buy Nyquil before going to bed, but with it sneaking up on you, you were huddled under your blankets, eyes squeezed impossibly tight in hopes to drown out the loud crashes and blinding flares of light flooding your bedroom window.

When the thought originally passed through your head it was more of an internal sarcastic remark than a possible solution.

I mean, you had been living with your roommate, Luke for over 4 months now, but you weren’t really friends. You would occasionally chat with him if you were both up and about around the apartment, which was pretty rare seeing as Luke seemed to avoid you for the most part. Hurrying out of a room when you entered, ending conversations quickly, and always being conveniently busy when you had attempted to make plans to get to know each other better. Your living arrangement had only come to be because you had heard through a friend he was looking for a roommate at the same time that you had happened to be on the lookout for a new place. Your relationship consisted mainly of half-hearted greetings and subtle avoidances of each other. So, going to him for comfort wasn’t a viable option to soothe your nerves.

Even if you did, what would you expect him to do?

Sit up with you? No, not when you knew he had to wake up early for work.

Talk you down? He wouldn’t even know what to say in the first place, your typical conversations were made up of checking if there was still coffee, or deciding whose turn it was to do the dishes.

Offer up a space in his bed? Absolutely not. That was the most unthinkable of them all. If it wasn’t for the fact that Luke had always seemed pretty adamant with his personal space, sometimes tensing up if you even sat too close to him on the couch. Your annoying and inconvenient crush that had started the day you moved in, just wouldn’t allow the two of you to be in such close quarters without your heart racing and your head dizzying.

It was out of the question, end of discussion.

With that being said it only took one more boom of thunder to have you shoot up from your bed and pad quietly into the hallway, with fuzzy sock clad feet and a large quilt wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You stared at his bedroom door hesitantly until the next strike, during which you knocked ever so lightly and muttered a soft,

“Luke,��

After a minute and no reply you resorted to giving up on your plan and heading to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea, in hopes it may help. The idea was good enough, but you had failed to consider the noise that comes along with it. And as if the whistling of the kettle and clattering of the mugs wasn’t enough, the next roar of thunder sent you into a shock causing you to stub your toe on the corner of the cabinet and let out a pained yelp. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth and sunk to the floor to assess the damage as you heard rustling and a door opening from the hall.

Luke was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, his long legs carrying him there within just a few steps. He hit a light switch, causing the kitchen to glow a dim yellow.

“Y/n, you alright?” he grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached your crouched position on the floor.

“Yea, yea I’m okay. Sorry, I woke you up.” you responded, mentally kicking yourself for causing such a disruption.

“S’alright. What’s goin’ on? Why are you up?” he spoke, offering you a hand to pull yourself up.

You accepted it, trying your hardest to ignore how warm it felt, and how easily it enveloped your own as you returned to your feet.

“Uh, I just had a hankering for chamomile.” you lied. You really should’ve thought this through. Now that he was standing in front of you, admitting your fear of thunderstorms seemed daunting. You were an adult for chrissakes, an adult that was left shaking at the mere thought of a considerably common weather phenomenon.

His eyebrows tugged in confusion as he glanced between you and the kettle.

“Did you knock at my door a couple minutes ago?” he questioned as you watched the window over the sink nervously.

Your eyebrows raised a bit at the inquiry.

“Thought I heard something, but then I figured I must’ve just imagined it. Y’know, woken myself up.” he continued.

“Um, yep that was me.” you admitted, turning your back to him in hopes to hide your embarrassment.

“So, was there a reason, or?”

“Right, yea a reason.” you paused, searching for an excuse in your drowsy and distracted brain. “I wondered if you wanted a cup.”

“In the middle of the night?” your subconscious deadpanned as your face scrunched in displeasure.

You turned back around to face him, holding a mug out for him.

Confusion and a glint of amusement was painted across his features as he spoke,

“You wanted to know if I wanted a cup of tea,” he peeked at the clock behind you. “at 2:30 in the morning?”

As you opened your mouth to defend your admittedly bad excuse another crash of thunder rumbled from the sky, causing your body to jump in fear and your hand to release its grip on the ceramic mug. Luke took a step back just in time as it shattered to pieces on the floor.

You brought two shaky hands to your face and pressed yourself against the cabinet, cowering as far back as possible.

“Hey, s’okay. It’s just thunder.” Luke said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You peeked out through your hands before dropping them from your face all together.

Realization sparked on his face as your eyes met his.

“Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” Despite his tone being soft, sweet even, you were sure he was making fun of you.

“I-uh, no. No I’m not.” you rushed out, attempting to push past him and scurry into your bedroom.

“Y/n, the glass.” he warned, his grip on your shoulder tightened, not allowing you to move.

“Was that why you knocked earlier?”

You nodded, hesitantly your eyes dropping to the floor.

“I don’t know why, I just- thunderstorms have freaked me out since I was little and I normally would take something to help me fall asleep, but I didn’t have anything and...I shouldn’t even have tried to wake you up in the first place, there’s nothing you could do and we aren’t even friends or anything. Probably don’t even like me, I mean you can hardly even stand to be in the same room as me. Anyways I’ll be fine, lemme clean this up and then i’ll just head to my ro-” you rambled, not even pausing to take a breath.

“You think I don’t like you?” he interrupted.

Fuck. Was the scare so intense oxygen had been cut off from your brain? Why would you say all that? He didn’t need to know that you took notice of the fact that he avoided your company like the plague.

Instead of responding you opted for grabbing the dustpan, the sooner the floor was clean the sooner you could get back to your room. Where you would sit awake in fear, by yourself for the rest of the night, no doubt replaying this embarrassing interaction over and over again.

Luke stood seemingly frozen as you kneeled down beside him attempting to gather the broken shards, which was proving to be difficult with such shaky hands.

With another bolt of lightening your hand shuddered and slipped from the brush, hitting a shard and slicing a thin cut on the pad of your pointer finger.

“Shit” you hissed, dropping the dustpan to examine the tiny gash.

Luke’s head snapped in your direction, eyes immediately filling with concern.

“Ow” you whined quietly.

He dropped down next to you and took the finger into his hands.

“You should clean this out, I’ll finish this up.” he nodded to the remaining glass.

“I can get it.” you protested. “You should get to bed, you have to work tomorrow.” you continued, making your way to the sink.

“So do you.” he responded flatly, already finishing up cleaning as you looked around for a band aid. When you finally located the box of bandages Luke was behind you.

“Lemme see.” he said, taking one from the box while he examined your finger.

You watched his face intently as he carefully wrapped your cut with squinted eyes and a small pout.

You had never seen Luke during the night. There was a certain softness to him that was completely foreign to you, one that made the thought of cuddling into him seem far too appealing for your liking.

“I do like you, y/n.” he broke you out of your thoughts, uttering it so quietly you thought you may have imagined it.

You nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing how to respond without further embarrassing yourself.

“I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t”

At this point he had finished bandaging you up which made the fact that he was still standing a mere inches apart from you with his hand wrapped around yours, all the more affecting.

“M’sorry I even brought it up, I’m just tired cause of the storm, and apparently I lose a filter with no sleep.”

His hand lightly squeezed yours as you spoke, and the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as he did so told you it was time to go back to your room. You gingerly tugged your hand away, ignoring the way Luke’s expression faltered when you did.

“I’m sorry again, about all of this. You should get some sleep.”

“Will you be able to?”

“I’ll be fine, one night of lost sleep is hardly the end of the world.” you responded, taking a step towards the hallway. Luke caught your arm before you got far.

“Yea, but you lose your filter when you're tired, you said it yourself.” A small grin grew on his face as he continued. “Can’t have you spilling all your secrets tomorrow.”

Was he joking around with you?

Before you could stop it, a pleased smile appeared on your face. This was new. You didn’t even know he had a sense of humor, he had never attempted to share it with you before.

“I’m sure I can control myself.” you returned, attempting to go once more. Of course, his voice stopped your movements within a second.

“Y/n, let me help. How can I help?”

The plausible reasoning for his sudden generosity was that he was feeling guilty or maybe even embarrassed that you were under the impression he didn’t like you. But that didn’t stop your entire body to warm at the offer.

“There’s really not much to do.” you started. “I think the only reason I knocked in the first place is because I’m used to having some company when I get scared. Big family, y’know there was never a shortage of beds I could crawl into.”

“Company!” he repeated, eyes lit up. “I can do that. I have it on very good authority that I’m an excellent cuddler.”

Your body froze at his words. He couldn’t be serious, right? There’s no way he had any interest in that, even if it was just for your sake.

He must’ve noticed your tenseness at the proposition because before you got a chance to respond, a bright red blush overtook his cheeks and he squeaked out,

“Or the floor, I could always take the floor. I mean company can be just my presence in the room, I guess. If you want.”

“No. I mean-um, I could go for a cuddle.” you heart answered before your brain got the chance to interfere.

He smiled at you warmly.

“Alright then.”

You had never been into Luke’s room before, I mean not really. Sometimes you would sit his laptop in there if he had left it out or lay a sweatshirt of his on the foot of the bed but you had never actually been inside. It was slightly messy, there was a pile of clean, unfolded laundry on a desk chair, and a few empty water bottles scattered around but for the most part it was clean. On his bed the blankets were strewn about from where he must’ve been sleeping earlier, a pile of pillows stacked high on the right side, and it could’ve just been how tired you were but you had never wanted to crawl into a bed more.

“I like your room.” you whispered, as he spread the pillows out more evenly across the top of the mattress.

“Why’re we whispering?”

“It’s nighttime.”

“Y/n, we’re the only people who live here and we’re both awake.” he teased, laughing while shaking his head.

“Oh, right.”

He gestured a hand to the bed, “Ladies first.”

Hesitantly you sat, your back pressed against the mound of pillows Luke had compiled for you, shortly after he took a seat next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your legs. You looked down to your lap, aware of how awkward of a position the two of you were in, neither knowing how to go about this. Luke spoke first,

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yea, thanks.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in response. “Do you wanna watch something?”

“M’pretty tired.” you replied. “We should probably just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, right.” he nodded, watching you.

It seemed he was waiting for you to get comfortable, like he didn’t want to push any boundaries that you weren’t ready to cross.

Unsurely you scooted your body down in the bed till you were fully horizontal, took one more glance at Luke and then turned your back to him, pulling the duvet up over your shoulders. With his blanket pulled up just under your nose you subtly breathed in the pine and vanilla aroma that you recognized as his body wash. You’d never admit to it but occasionally you’d spend a little extra time in the shower inhaling the fresh scent.

A dip in the mattress told you that Luke had laid down and within a few minutes you were sure he was sleeping again. You were feeling a bit more calm, trying your hardest to ignore every loud crash of thunder and instead focus on counting the seconds between each soft breath Luke exhaled.

Just as a drowsy haze began to come over you, straining your eyelids and fogging up your brain a particularly alarming rumble broke the silence causing your body to jerk and your breath to catch. Luke grumbled quietly beside you and you could feel him rolling around. As you opened your mouth to apologize for waking him a warm hand slipped just under the hem of your shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto the bare skin of your hip. Your body tightened at the unexpected contact and you strained your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

“Luke,”

“Go to sleep, m’right here.” he mumbled without even opening his eyes.

You faced back around but placed a hand over his and removed it from your body. This must’ve worried Luke because he pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes blinking open as you turned to face him.

“Was that not good? I’m sorry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” he rambled through a defense.

“No,” you shushed, pressing a hand to his chest to lightly push him back down. “s’good.” you assured while pulling his arm over your body as you tucked yourself into his chest. Your bodies were completely flush in this new position. “This is better.” you murmured, your nose bumping his chest as you made yourself comfortable.

He hummed softly in agreement, his hand finding its way to your hair, cupping the back of your head.

Sleep was sweeping over you fast like this, the sound of Luke’s heartbeat drowning out any daunting noise coming from outside. Not to mention that anytime your body so much as twitched Luke’s arms would tighten around you ever so slightly as if to assure he was still there with you.

When the sun had risen you woke up to the sound of soft snores, and the feeling of tiny puffs of air on your forehead. As you tried to roll over and stretch your limbs you found your legs were tangled with someone else’s and your cheek was practically glued to the faded grey cotton that adorned your roommate’s chest.

“Luke.” you called, using your hand to shake him awake.

“Shh” he whined, repositioning you both so your back was snug against his chest.

“We have work.” you mumbled, trying to squirm out of his hold. It proved ineffective as he just tightened his arms around your stomach.

He grumbled something incoherently that sounded an awful lot like “No, stay with me please. So warm.” but that couldn’t have been it. Right?

Afraid he would dig himself further into this hole of sleepy deliriousness, you began to rouse him, prying yourself out of his arms and promising him a hot cup of coffee if he met you in the kitchen within ten minutes.

You quickly washed your face, brushed your hair and teeth and made your way to the kitchen to fix two cups of coffee. Luke stumbled out of his bedroom just a few minutes later, his eyes squinted under the natural light flooding the windows and he seemed to almost glide across the tile until you and his coffee were in arm’s reach.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” you greeted in a teasing tone, pushing the mug across the counter to him.

He hummed and took two large sips before turning his attention fully to you.

“G’morning, did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I actually did.” you affirmed. “Thank you for everything last night, Luke.” you rested your hand over his on the countertop, squeezing it once lightly to express your gratitude.

When you pulled it away Luke’s eyes lingered over where your hand had previously been before he dragged his gaze up to meet your eyes.

He released a deep sigh before speaking, “Happy to help, I’m honestly glad the storm happened.”

“Happy to see me scared shitless, are we Hemmings?”

He laughed through a denial, leaning forward to press his forehead on your shoulder where your loose fitting shirt had slipped.

Your posture straightened as your stomach tied itself in knots, each one tightening with every exhale that brushed your bare skin.

“No, I’m just glad that we can finally y’know, be-”

“Friends.” you cut off. Because that’s what you would be, you had to remind yourself. You wouldn’t have Luke’s bed to crawl into every night. You wouldn’t have his firm chest under your palms each morning, or his hands tangled in your hair. Especially not in the way you really wanted them.

Luke pulled off of you like he had been electrically shocked.

“Friends” he repeated, and if you weren’t so busy pitying yourself you may have heard the subtle lilt in his voice that caused the word to come out as more of a question than a statement.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and as the minutes passed this interaction was starting to feel more like the ones you typically had with Luke.

“We should get ready for work, you have to go soon.” he spoke up, already walking away.

“We should do something tonight.” you suggested. This is what you were afraid of, you had grown attached already. “Maybe watch something or, I don’t know.” Anything to be near you again.

“I won’t be home.” he clipped, closing his bedroom door behind him.

It really was an awful idea.

You hurried through your morning routine, carefully selecting any time you had to leave your bedroom to avoid bumping into Luke. What had gone wrong? Had the word friends spooked him? If that was the case, what would he have done if he found out what you really wanted to say?

Either way you left feeling confused and rejected, so quickly you didn’t even realise you had forgotten your car keys until you were on the sidewalk outside your complex.

“Shit.” you cursed, turning on your heel and storming back in the building.

Once you had expertly made your way back inside the apartment and retrieved your keys, being as quiet as humanly possible to not alert Luke to the fact that you had re-entered, you were halfway out the door when the utterance of your name froze your movements.

“She just left for work.”

Luke must’ve been on the phone, but why was he talking about you? Curiosity got the best of you and you quietly shut the door with you on the inside, work could wait.

“Because, Cal that’s not what she wants.” he sighed.

He was talking to Calum? The only friend you shared, and the connection through which you got a room here in the first place.

“She wants to be my friend and I can’t do that. Not with her.”

“Why not?” you whispered to yourself, taking a step further inside to hear him better.

“No, it’s not better than nothing at all. I can’t be her friend ‘cause anytime she’s near me all I can think about is kissing her.”

Your stomach dropped at his words and a small gasp escaped your mouth. All the dots began adding up in your head. The avoiding? Well he had just explained that, and honestly it was the best excuse you’d ever heard. His behavior last night? You had caught him with his guard down, he was forced to let you in. His sudden annoyance at the word friends this morning? You had shot him down and you hadn’t even realized it. You liked Luke, and he actually liked you back.

“Actually, avoiding does work.” he continued, breaking you from your thoughts.

You could hear the mumble of Calum’s response but unfortunately couldn’t make out any of the words.

“Last night was an exception, she was all cute and scared. There’s no way I could’ve turned her away. I’ll go right back to avoiding, and things’ll go back to normal. Suffer in silence, I’m telling you it works.”

That’s not what you wanted, not at all. The creak of floorboards alerted you to Luke’s approaching and you hastily snuck out the front door, your mind running through possible solutions the whole way to your car.

Luke hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t be home, which meant he was taking this whole avoiding thing seriously. It was 1:30 am and you were still up waiting for him, your seat at the dining room table was losing its appeal as your back cramped in pain. The original plan you had concocted in the hours you spent daydreaming about him at work was to wait up for him, lure him into a movie night and make a move while the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. You hadn’t planned for him to be out this late though, and in all honesty you were starting to worry. You hoped he was just crashing at a friend’s, you hoped he wasn’t alone, you really hoped he wasn’t with another girl.

Discouraged, you moved your pity party into your bedroom, flopping onto your bed and groaning loudly into a pillow. You rolled onto your back, wasting time by counting the blades of the ceiling fan in each slow rotation.

You were at 231 in your counting when you heard the front door open followed by the clambering of footsteps. You perked up and angled your ear towards the hall.

“Please be alone. Please be alone. Please be alone.” you repeated quietly to yourself as the steps got closer. From the light protruding the crack under your bedroom door, you saw the shadow of a figure approach. You held your breath in anticipation of the knock you figured was coming. A few minutes passed, nothing came, and soon enough the shadow disappeared and Luke retreated to his bedroom.

You stared out your window and for the first time in your life found yourself hoping for a storm. The sky was clear, hardly a cloud in sight, and the moonlight was warm and prominent. It would look so pretty on Luke’s face right now, all soft eyes and drowsy expressions.

It seemed a shame to sleep by yourself, he was just across the hall, the promise of his warm embrace taunting you.

You huffed in exasperation and jumped to your feet, “Here goes nothing.”

You didn’t bother being quiet as you advanced to his door, leaving three heavy knocks on the worn oak.

You could hear him shuffling inside and then the intimidating creak of the hinges, revealing him to you.

“Are you okay?” he questioned sluggishly, his body slumping against the door frame.

“Can I sleep in here?” you asked instead of answering. No time to waste here.

“Um, it’s not storming?”

“I know. Can I?”

“Is there a reason?” he breathed, his heavy eyes drifting down your face to land unabashedly on your lips, which you were chewing in anxiousness.

“I have a crush on you.” you blurted, causing him to shoot up from his languid lean.

“What?”

“I have this big stupid crush on you. I have ever since I moved in but I thought you hated me because you always avoided me, but now I know that you like me too and I don’t see the point in us sleeping in separate beds anymore.” you continued, your eyes glued to a dip in the hardwood floor.

“How did you ev-”

“I heard you on the phone with Calum earlier.” you interrupted to explain, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I swear I wasn’t spying or anything, I forgot my keys.”

Without saying a word Luke stepped to the side allowing you entrance. You shuffled past him but didn’t make it far before his hand caught your forearm and smoothly tugged you a mere inches from him.

He spoke through heavy breaths, eyes flitting to your own as you faced him for the first time since your declaration.

“You like me?”

You could only nod, your brain completely fogged by the close proximity.

His eyes fell from your eyes to your now bitten lips, “Can I?” he sighed as his hand found your chin, thumb brushing the skin timidly.

“Y-yea” you agreed, leaning into his touch.

He closed the gap between you with a gentle press of his lips, his hand slowly dragging up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake until it was tangled in your hair. As you relaxed into his hold his movements became more fervent, his tongue begging for entrance which you allowed when your mouth fell open with a flustered sigh.

Luke stumbled backward dragging you along with him until the back of his calves met the foot of the bed and he dropped to sit on the edge, you standing between his legs. You pulled apart to breath and he spoke raggedly,

“My heart…” he trailed off catching his breath.

“What?” you muttered.

“Feel it.” he continued, taking your hand and pressing it to his heart which you could feel thumping rapidly through the warmth of his skin.

You laid your forehead against the top of his head, moving both of your hands to your own chest.

“Me too.”

He tugged on your sweatshirt until you were seated securely on his knee, his hands grasping at your waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” he drawled before he began alternating pecks, and light nibbles down your neck until he reached the spot he could feel your pulse thrumming from. He lets his lips rest there for a while and reveled in the fact that you were just as affected as him. He pulled away when you spoke up.

“Where were you tonight?”

“Moped around Calum’s place until he kicked me out, told me I needed to deal with my shit.” he answered, the hand he was resting on your upper thigh caressing the skin through your pajama pants.

“I heard you outside my door earlier.” you admitted leaning into his side.

“I came home with every intention of telling you but I chickened out.”

“What would you have told me?” you wondered aloud.

“That I like you, and that last night was amazing. That I don’t want to sleep without you again if I don’t have to.”

Luke took notice of the fact that your eyelids were drooping as he talked and began to scoot you both back in the bed as he continued.

He watched in awe as you curled into his side.

“Up for a breakfast date tomorrow, love?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you both.

“Yes, please.” you agreed, laying your palm flat against the warmth radiating from his stomach.

“So what should we do with your room?” Luke said drowsily, sleep beginning to creep up on him as well.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you won’t be needing it anymore since you’re moving in here.” he comments casually, pushing your hair out of your face with soft movements.

You laugh lightly but it’s drowned by the yawn that slips out when you respond.

“In your dreams, Hemmings.”

“If I’m lucky.” he replied, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Goodnight y/n.”

“Night, Lu.”

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings one shots #luke hemmings fluff #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sos preferences #5sos fluff #luke hemmings drabble #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings blurb #5sos drabbles

884 notes · View notes

ignisnocturnalia · 3 years

Text

Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.

Nokris x Reader

“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”

You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.

The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one.

Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.

“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”

His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture

You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?

“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.

Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...

Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.

Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.

“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.

Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things.

You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.

Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.

"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.

“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful.

“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.

____________________________________________

The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.

It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow!

In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.

“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”

You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.

The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.

The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.

Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.

Relationship HCs

His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with

No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions

He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death

The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day

You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact

He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has

Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction

He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know

Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape

His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday

Nsfw 👁👄👁

First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him

He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going

He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up

Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots

He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes

Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature

If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards

You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides

He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts

He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you

Fluff

Uhhh, a w k w a r d

Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries

If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch

Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)

Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places

Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new

When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities

Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light

The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring

Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #nokris #nokris x reader #eris morn #oryx the taken king #commander zavala #savathûn

75 notes · View notes

nuttytani · 3 years

Text

Just like a movie

fandom: ikevamp

pairing: vlad x gn!reader

words: 2000+

warnings: mentions of food and that's pretty much it

a/n- this was my secret santa gift for my dear friend: @jiyuu-chan ! + if you enjoyed it; feedback is highly appreciated!

People say that you are meant to meet a special someone in your life. Someone who would change everything, who would complete you like a piece of a puzzle- someone you are destined to be with from the moment you are born, a string of fate tying you closer.

Soulmates have a special bond with each other; a red string that is attached to their pinky- which can only be seen by them. Such is drilled into every child’s brain from a young age.

When you were younger, your father would always tell you stories of how he had met his soulmate, his wife...your mother. It was otherworldly he said, like nothing else- an indescribable moment, and he wanted you to just know when you had met yours.

“One day, you’ll also meet your one and only, sweetheart!”

“Really? But…. how will I know?”

“Really! It’s simple. You’ll see a red-,” your dad said- looking a little too excited.

“DARLING- STOP! DIDN’T WE DISCUSS THIS!?? Don’t annoy the poor child…,” your mother screeched from the kitchen as she stormed to your place- giving her husband a sharp look before turning to look at you, “sweety- you’ll know when that day comes, alright? Why don’t you go play, hmm?”

You only nodded meekly, and rushed upstairs- glad to have your dad stop talking. Your parents’ banter was now muffled, but your mind was clouded with thoughts of what your father was about to say. Perhaps your mother was right...it’s better not to know to keep the moment special.

As you grew up, from kindergarten, primary school to highschool and finally college; you stood by and watched most of your friends find their other half- until you were the only one left. You’d always feel a dull pang in your heart...what if you were destined to be alone for life? When were you going to meet your soulmate? Will people keep on taunting you? These thoughts would lurk in your head, until you couldn’t think anymore. But now you were older and more carefree than before, such thoughts didn’t bother you any longer- at least not completely.

Every once in a while, your family and friends would dreamily tell you about their experience, while you’d just listen and nod. An exhausting cycle, where all your concerns would come rushing back to you. Then, of course, they’d never forget to ask about your nonexistent love life... It wasn’t fun to watch them shoot you a sympathetic smile and say “don’t worry, your time will come soon!”

Truly, having a soulmate or not didn’t matter to you, at least that’s what you think. It wasn’t uncommon for few people to be ‘alone’ although that was quite rare and an unfortunate occurrence. Why was it so hard for people to leave you alone? Real life isn't a romantic movie, like everyone would depict it as.

“There we go! I think that’s it now,” the strawberry brunette sighed as he placed the vase of wildflowers on the coffee table.

“Finally! I’m so tired,” you groaned, slipping to the floor as your back pushed against the couch.

Fumbling with the book in your hands, you motioned the man to sit beside you- not too long after, he too sat lamely next to you on the cold hardwood. Exactly five hours passed since you and your friend Charles began organizing your new house. The two of you were working nonstop- tirelessly to get the place looking more liveable and comfortable. It was a struggle, but the effort was worth it.

“You know...you owe me for this big time,” Charles announced cheekily.

“Spill it. What do you want Charlot?” Brows shot up your forehead, you knew that smile all too well.

“First of all...stop calling me ‘Charlot’ it’s weird! Only Faust calls me that. And to answer your question- I would like to eat your pancakes.” He flashed you a toothy grin.

“Sure whatever you say Charlot,” you snickered, “with coffee?”

“Uh-huh!”

With a roll of your eyes, you stood up and threw the book on the couch before heading to the kitchen. Straight away- you pulled out the mixing bowl and sieved the dry ingredients, while humming to a tune that was stuck in your head.

About a week had passed since you moved into your new house, it was a decent place and safe neighbourhood. But the best part about it was the fact that your house was a five minute walk from town. That meant no more lazy drives to the market, quite the bonus actually.

Remembering a task- you shouted to Charles, “Can you be a sweetheart and do me a favour?”

“Ask away child, your wish is my command,” he said with a flourish of his hands.

“Haha very funny- go get the mail”

“No no no- you’re forgetting something. What’s the magic word~” he sang in a high pitch.

“...Monsieur Charlie, can you please get the mail,” you huffed in annoyance.

Sounds of pancake sizzling and boiling of the kettle filled the kitchen, you were too busy flipping the pancake to notice Charles' presence back in the living room. His eyes were squinting hard at the brown box and some mail sitting snugly between his arms. He looked back and forth between the parcel and your back before he cleared his throat, capturing your attention.

“Hey uhh...is your home address 216b?”

“No. It’s 215b- why do you ask?”

“Are you sure? Because your mail says-”

Before the man could complete his sentence; you snatched the package from him- your eyes widening momentarily.

“I suppose the addresses got mixed up…” Charles muttered

“Yea looks like it…”

The two of you just stared at the package, not knowing what to do. Your first thought was to drop it off at the right address. The house was just in front of yours, it shouldn’t be a problem and maybe you could introduce yourself to your neighbour at the same time.

A smoky scent filled the living, interrupting your train of thoughts; your nose scrunching up in disgust- “What’s that smell?”

The two of you stared at each other quizzically before exclaiming at the same time “THE PANCAKES!!”

[Unfortunately, it took a great deal of time trying to scrape the burnt pancake off your pan and clean it. The unknown package was the last thing on your mind.]

“Thanks for the help Charles, I appreciate it.” You smiled at him.

“No problem, after all, I got to eat a good meal in turn,” he gave you a wink before bidding his byes.

The sky lost its pale blue colour and was now transformed into soft red and violet, all blending in to create a beautiful gradient with specks of white clouds adorning like freckles. A mop of unfamiliar silvery hair passed by your peripheral as you stared up the sky, taking a shy glance towards the man.

You stared at his back discreetly as he fumbled with the keys before opening the entrance to his house.

‘216b’ the golden letters glistened.

Huh. So that’s your neighbour! Maybe now’s the time you give him back the parcel, and that’s what you did.

You knocked thrice on the emerald green door, while balancing the huge brown box on your other arm- waiting patiently while you internally panicked. Your hands started to sweat and the box started to slip. Rushed footsteps echoed from the other side before halting suddenly, the green door opened with a start; giving you a little shock.

Once again, you were met with the silvery haired man; his garnet red eyes flickered to yours and at that moment- you felt as if everything froze around you. Your heart started to beat way too fast, and your breathing became shallow- it felt as if you were underwater. A tingling sensation ran up your left hand, your eyes flashed down to see whatever the problem was- only to be met with a scarlet thread wrapped around your pinky. You looked at the man in clear surprise and he too- looked very taken aback as he followed your eyes.

The silence stretched far too long for your liking, with a clear of your throat- you introduced yourself to the perplexed man and spoke

“...I’m the new neighbour”

“Bonjour, how can I help you?” He stared at you with wide eyes.

“So err- the package— I mean...I-I believe this is your mail?” You motioned to the box in your arms, “Looks like the mailman mixed up our home addresses.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Ahh! Why yes- actually I have yours as well- the mail I mean,” his eyes softened in understanding, “Please! Come inside.” He invited you in as he took the parcel from your hands.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You shook your head meekly, still recovering from your speeding heartbeat.

“Not at all! Come in, please,” he insisted with shining eyes.

The house was similar to yours, the same white walls with wooden floors and fixtures- it had a relaxing ambience. You spotted several plants and flowers decorating the house, giving the place a much more peaceful vibe, you were too busy admiring the place to notice your neighbour returning.

He placed two plates of strawberries and tea on the coffee table which caught your attention.

“You have a lovely home uhh…”

“Vlad. I’m Vlad- my apologies, I completely forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me,” Vlad said with a slight smile.

When you turned up his doorsteps, you had no idea of what was to come- you definitely didn’t expect to finally meet your soulmate after all these years and in such a way. Now you understood what people meant by ‘feeling butterflies’

“No, it’s quite alright,” you chuckled while calming your jittery hands.

Vlad took a seat on the couch and pat the place next to him for you to sit. He elegantly picked the teacup and blew softly on it.

“So, how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not too long actually, been just a week. I’ve finally finished organizing today,” you said while taking a bite into the deep red strawberry- the sweet juiciness making you sigh in delight.

“These strawberries are particularly my favourite- in fact, these were in the parcel you brought,” Vlad said with a deep laugh.

You gave an awkward ‘oh’ as you took a sip from your cup.

Not too long after, the awkwardness disappeared as you two got lost in conversation after conversation and more endless conversation, and a few giggles in between. It was quite easy to trust Vlad- he had a calming and serene aura and had you feeling comfortable in no time, perhaps too comfortable that you didn’t realize how late it was until you glanced at your wristwatch.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry- I lost track of time…”

Vlad gave a hum of acknowledgement as he eyed the wall clock, “It’s not that late.” He looked at you with twinkling eyes, ”Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’d like some company.”

“Hmm I don't know… I’ve overstayed my welcome,” You said with furrowed brows.

“Well I for sure know you haven’t —as I’ve said—I enjoyed your company.”

“Ahh fine! You’re good at tempting people you know?” With a grin, you folded your arms which earned a hearty chuckle from Vlad.

Dinner went smoothly as you two chattered on and on. The two of you stalled your return home but stayed in each other’s presence by washing dishes, eating dessert, extra dessert, and washing dishes yet again until there was nothing left to do.

Once again, you stood at Vlad’s doorstep with a meek smile.

“I had fun, thanks for having me”

“Me too- and it’s not often to find that your neighbour is your soulmate,” Vlad gave you an impish smile.

“Yea— it was, just like—”

“Just like a movie?”

“You stole my words, monsieur.”

“Perhaps this is our movie,” he said while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

a/n: if you enjoyed reading this, please don't forget to leave a like and/or reblog. feed back is always appreciated. + join my taglist here

#tani writes!!#vlad x reader #ikevamp vlad #ikemen vampire vlad #ikevamp fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp vlad fanfic #vlad fanfic #reader insert #ikemen vampire vlad fanfiction #ikevamp oneshot #ikevamp #ikevam charles #ikevam faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp faust

90 notes · View notes

bonemarroww · 4 years

Text

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary: “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do better next time.” Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings : Crochet inaccuracy, probably. Also, confession stress.

Feedback is welcome !

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

——————— Chapter 3

“I j-just don’t know w-what I should do.” Tamaki admitted, his head comfortably against the wall of Nejire’s room.

Ever since he had come out to his best friend (and a little later, to said friend’s mate), things had been going rather well. They had not really changed when out and about, as to most he was still the shy Alpha from class 3-A. He didn’t mind it too much, for luckily, though people identified him as an Alpha from his scent, it was a subject unlikely to be discussed in most contexts. As long as he could be himself around his friends, so far, he was satisfied.

Since Mirio and Nejire knew, Tamaki had taken to just leaving his nest made in his room, simply locking the door on the off chance that someone else would visit him while he was not here.

One thing bothered him, though, and that was not knowing how to behave around the Alpha that caught his interest. The thought of telling her of his feelings as an Alpha was only slightly less dreadful than that of coming out to her. He was at a dead end.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you.” Nejire shrugged. “She would probably accept any kind of confession, if it’s from you. A letter maybe?”

The shy boy shook his head, sighing defeatedly.

“She’s b-been raised t-to be the best Alpha. I have to be m-more traditional than that.”

From behind him, he could hear Mirio humming.

“So that leaves making her a homemade gift, or asking her to scent something, depending on how you want to go about it.” The blonde thought aloud.

Tamaki shook in his shoes as he remembered his dreadful attempts at any sort of crafting when he was younger. His father had tried to get him to crochet, his go-to practice when nervous, and his mother had tried to take him woodcarving; but young timid Tamaki hadn’t even known how to make the simplest bead bracelets or drawing.

The intent behind it made the craft feel so overwhelming. He had quickly decided he would wait until finding a potential mate before trying again any of these.

“Maybe I should just s-stay like this. M-maybe if I just keep spending time with her as her f-friend, I’ll g-get used to her presence...”

Nejire was quick to come grasp his hand, pouting.

“Come on, I’ll teach you how to make these cute little thread bracelets! Or Mirio could show you how to patchwork a blanket.” She offered.

The sad Omega shook his head.

“These bracelets d-don’t last forever...” He sulked against the wall.

Tamaki tuned out Nejire’s coos about how much of a closet romantic he was at heart. The obvious answer would be to ask her to scent something for his nest, but he didn’t want to come off as not making enough efforts to court her.

“Maybe you could ask her.” Mirio helpfully decided. “Tell her you don’t know where to begin, have her help you. Maybe she’ll even tell you her favorites.” He coaxed.

With a sigh, Tamaki timidly looked away from the wall.

“Y-you think?” He tried to mask the hopefulness in his voice.

The blonde Alpha and his mate looked at each other, feeling they may have finally breached the shy boy’s defenses.

“I am certain.” The bubbly Omega grinned.

Much to Tamaki’s relief; his Alpha friend –and secret flame– had been ecstatic at the idea of helping him in his future courtship. She had first asked a lot of questions, the kind that left him with burning cheeks and ears, as he told her he couldn’t tell her yet.

When asked why, he had panicked and said he wasn’t sure of his feelings yet, and that he wouldn’t want to embarrass himself telling her if it was to be rejected soon after by said potential mate.

She had seemed to believe his lie – as he was positive there was no one else on this planet for him but her and her sweet scent.

The Alpha had given him clues as to what he could try; saying in passing how crochet was her favorite way to go. It took time, dedication, and a lot of love for someone to go through the exercise. Tamaki immediately chose it.

Next was what to do.

“If you were an Omega.” She looked at him in the eyes. “What would you like best from your Alpha?”

The shy boy had thought for a moment, unwilling to make his feelings too obviously out in the open. Looking for words, he fumbled with the rim of his shirt; suddenly aware of how hot the day was. Had his cheeks been this flushed the whole time?

“I-I guess I would w-want something that m-makes me think of t-them... S-something p-personal between us...”

In her smile, he knew he had a given a good answer.

“The key to a good gift is to make it thoughtful. Show the Omega you’re courting that you understand their needs and can provide.”

Early on, as she made him choose what colors he felt could be best for his work, Tamaki knew what he would do. He could not identify a single fault or need in her being, but he could make something that called back to their shared history. A scarf.

He chose a soft green that reminded him of the comfort her smell brought him, and a pretty pearly white that suited her bright personality.

His Alpha chose her own colors, so she could teach him by example.

They settled in her room, in the 2-B dorms. It was the first time one of them discovered the other’s sanctum. Amajiki took in the soft colors of her walls, white and green. She had told him these tints helped to calm her Alpha down, when it proved to be restless. For some reason, Tamaki felt even more nervous to be in her den. Sure, he had already been in Mirio’s dorm room several times, and knew visiting each other’s den was something most Alphas didn’t have trouble doing nowadays...

It probably didn’t feel any different to her than showing her place to one of her Beta friends, he thought, his Omega sorrowful, as it was simultaneously ecstatic to be shown around his Alpha’s place.

The room was drenched in her scent...

“It’s not easy, but don’t worry too much. You’ll get the hang of it soon.” She reassured him, sitting on her bed and him on her chair, as she showed him how to crochet with her own project.

Her colors were a light blue, a pale purple and white.

She spent an hour showing him different simple knots, letting him decide which ones he preferred. Feeling overwhelmed, Tamaki chose the first one she showed him, internally freaking out too hard to concentrate on the others. She also showed him how to change the colors, and gave him ideas of patterns.

They started immediately; the shy boy afraid he would forget if he was to leave now. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to ask her again another time.

His beginning was sloppy, and he abandoned his first pattern idea when he struggled to change the color on a bad first try. Still, when they decided they were too tired to go on, Tamaki actually felt proud of what he had crafted.

The Alpha hadn’t asked more questions, so neither did he, but he had noticed while working in comfortable silence that her work was quite wide. Was she making a blanket? These gifts were very popular among Omegas. Easy to scent, soft enough to be put in a nest, warm. Tamaki wondered if she was just making it to accompany him, or if she too had someone in mind to gift it to.

Tamaki got his answer the next day, after class, as they had agreed to continue working on their projects in each other’s presence as soon as they could. Mirio had cheered for him as quietly as he could manage, and had batted away his fear of her having an Omega in mind. All in all, after spending the day with his friends and discreetly repeated the moves the Alpha had taught him, the shy boy was quite eager to get his courting gift (he still couldn’t think the words without blushing madly) finished.

At the time they had agreed on, Tamaki made his way to her dorms, hiding his face bashfully whenever he caught the gaze of one of her classmates.

A very tired looking Alpha opened the door to him, and seeing the bags under her eyes, and her hair ruffled from sleeping, Tamaki panicked. Had he mistaken her invitation of the passed day? Should he have checked by text if she was available? Or, worse, had she forgotten about him? His inner Omega wailed at the prospect.

“Oh, come in!” Her gaze lit up slightly when she noticed it was him. “I’m sorry for the state I’m in, I didn’t get much sleep.” She yawned as she moved from the door.

Tamaki nodded, and found his spot from the day before. As he got his halfway project out of his bag (where he had made sure it wouldn’t get messed up), he noticed she didn’t.

“A-aren’t you f-finishing yours?”

A bad feeling seized him then, only confirmed by the Alpha’s bashful expression.

“My Alpha wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. She’s very eager to give it away.”

There was no sound coming from the third year, though he wondered how to talk over the painful crack of his broken heart. His Omega whined, the urge to nest for comfort strong as he contemplated the pitiful work he had done.

“Oh.” he simply said.

He wouldn’t cry in front of her, he decided, as the urge to felt more and more intense.

The girl apparently felt his distress, though she misunderstood its origin.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m still here to help you, and I’ve got plenty more yarn to show you if you don’t remember well the gestures.” She reassured him, voice sweet, her calming scent a bit stronger.

Tamaki eventually managed to keep on his work through the sorrow. If the Alpha noticed his sadness, she didn’t comment on it, as she read over her homework while he crafted.

The elf boy didn’t dare ask her how her mate reacted. Eyeing her when she wasn’t looking, he could see her small smile through the exhaustion. If she had confessed her wish to court an Omega, the lucky person had most likely accepted.

Who wouldn’t? Tamaki got angry at the very notion that someone might not share her feelings. She was the most perfect Alpha, even to those who weren’t her mate –or not even Omegas, to her knowledge. He knew that very well.

After some time, all his thoughts blinding him, Tamaki realized what was supposed to be the end of his scarf was now a mess of knots not even closely resembling what he had in mind.

Ruined. His courting gift was ruined .

A tear escaped him, despite his efforts not to let it upset him.

He would never be enough for her. What Alpha, or even Omega, would want to wear such an ugly thing?

The Alpha must have felt his distress in the air or in his scent, for the next moment, she was all over him, her hand on his shoulder and her cheek pressing against his hair as she leaned down to take a look at his failed attempt at a scarf.

“I-it’s r-ruined.” Tamaki choked up, unable to keep the tears in.

Instantly, she coddled him, whispering sweet nothings to make him feel batter. She pried the fabric from his hands, inspecting the place where everything had started to go wrong.

“It’s okay, Amajiki... It’s salvageable!” She smiled at him. “If you only let me...”

The boy took the thing from her, heart on a full-on crisis. What use was he if he could not even make the girl he loved a proper courting gift?

“Y-you c-can't! I-It's supposed to be m-made on m-my own...”

He saw in her gaze that she understood the real struggle. Her eyes became soft, her soothing words becoming cuddling as she took it upon herself to comfort him.

“It’s fine... It’s only the first time you’re making this, you should have seen mine when I first learnt...”

And then, for some reason Tamaki would never understand himself, he told her. He told her in a cracked whisper, voice wet and miserable from his tears and body shaking.

“I-it was sup-supposed to b-be for you...”

As soon as the secret escaped him, two things happened at once.

One, he realized the nature of the confession he had just made, his hands flying to his mouth as if it would still keep the words in.

Second, above his hurried apology, a loud, loud purr was heard.

So loud, he felt it emanating from her chest against his side; so loud, he barely could think above its rumble.

When he dared look into the Alpha’s face, confused, what he found in her gaze was nothing less than joyful excitement.

“Really?” She exclaimed, crouching in front of him to get a better look at his eyes, from beneath his bangs.

His Omega quieted its cries at the excited contentment showing on her face, and the continued purr. Tamaki nodded shyly.

She stood up, practically ran to her dresser, and came back with a grin and a folded bundle of light blue, pale purple and white that she promptly thrusted his way.

“It’s a plaid. You can use it as a loose scarf –I know you don’t like anything too tight against your neck– or as a small blanket. I thought it would suit you well.”

For the first time, the shy boy saw her expression grow bashful.

“That is, if you accept it as my courting gift.”

Tamaki’s cheeks burnt, and he felt like hyperventilating as he felt the honesty in her voice. The purr hadn’t lessened, louder than he knew an Alpha could express their joy. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, overwhelming as they were.

“I-I do. Ac-accept it, I mean...”

A mess of jumbled words escaped him, and when he nervously stopped talking, afraid of making a fool out of himself, Tamaki only found fondness in her gaze.

“Then I declare you, Amajiki Tamaki-”

“J-just Tamaki is f-fine...” he interrupted shyly.

“-my mate. Tamaki .” She repeated his name as though to prove a point, equal parts amused and tender.

————————

I know absolutely nothing about crochet, and so, forgive me for any unrealistic detail about the making of their courting gifts. I read that a scarf could be made by a beginner in under 6h with favorable choice of yarn; as for the plaid made in one night, let's just collectively agree that she has a side quirk that allows her to crochet faster than is normal.

On a happier note : Tamaki got a girlfriend ! Yay !

PS : it's not the fact that he's an Omega that prevents Tamaki from crafting a gift, but the responsibility it holds that makes him too anxious to do it. ;)

#amajiki tamaki x reader #trans amajiki tamaki #omega amajiki tamaki #amajiki tamaki fluff #my hero academia #something else

35 notes · View notes

dumbkombuchakid · 3 years

Text

I’m finding more and more that mindfulness and awareness play a massive role in everything. All the growth I’ve undergone has been rooted in cultivating those skills in myself.

Getting curious instead of judgmental, asking questions and being objective, letting go of outcome and expectations. All of these things seem tiny and maybe insignificant on paper; but in practice have made all the difference for me.

This past Thursday, I met with my therapist (as I usually do on Thursdays) and she told me she was proud of me. I am so grateful for that feedback, for her helping to contribute to my awareness of myself. Awareness extends beyond the present moment, it encompasses patterns and trends and habits and intentions and consequences. It informs decisions and aids processing and understanding. Awareness is the key to it all.

She commended me for staying in wise-mind while telling her about a situation that was upsetting me. She noted that though I had the opportunity to allow my emotions to take control, to pull me into a spiral, I made a choice to remain in control. That’s not what I would’ve done a year ago. That might not even be what I would’ve done a few months ago. Her providing that feedback about my new patterns and trends, specifically my ability to abstain from following old, maladaptive patterns and trends, brought that new data into my awareness. It’s very difficult to be cognizant of your own patterns. It requires parallel processing of data about several versions of yourself in different but comparable situations across a timeline. That’s not a skill that comes naturally; that depth of data about each version of ourselves just isn’t stored.

I am proud of myself. I’m proud of my ability to say that I’m proud of myself; proud of my capacity to believe that I’m proud of myself. For the larger majority of my life (I’m talkin 1st 19 years) I refused to allow pride to penetrate my consciousness. I grew up fearing that I’d slip into narcissism and lose who I was, instead developing into some spawn of my father; a figure I’d associated with all things self-centered and antisocial. Any shred of pride or self-esteem was too great a risk; I’d rather be humble and miserable but secure in my pro-social self-appraisal. I vividly remember the day I felt true self worth for the first time. It was in june, a month before I’d turn 20. That day came a few years after another significant (in hindsight) day when I began working with my current therapist. I fear I may accidentally catalog the past several years here for the sake of clarity and continuity, but the main takeaway point is that I’ve undergone immense growth, all a result of my own innervism.

Innervism is a term I’m borrowing from Elizabeth Lesser, the author of the book Cassandra Speaks. It refers to inward awareness and intentional growth. Tuning in to tune up. If not for facing the things about myself that I didn’t want to get true, I’d never have reached a point where I’m able to act with intention and display a self of whom I’m proud.

I’m far from perfect, and I’ve made a personal vow to never stop growing, learning, listening, and adapting. I will never reach my final form; there is always room for growth.

My point in writing right now is to address some of the cognitive behaviors I’ve noticed myself exhibit when in relationships. In the beginning, when things are wonderful and new and affection has a strong presence, I latch on. I start to fantasize about the future and how my life could play out with this other individual by my side, treating me the way they do at the beginning.

This tendency to idealize based on that first impression, that best-behavior scenario, extends into the period when things begin to slip. When the negligence begins, when manipulative tactics begin being employed. When I am expected both to change myself and also to unilaterally accept the other’s lack of change. I am projected to grow into a mould that aligns with their current state, rather than the two of us developing into a new shape, together.

Internally, this is accompanied by a fear of communicating my feelings. A hesitation to go against the grain and a tendency to shrink and abide by these new terms of engagement. I get quiet and small and they become all powerful. I am aware of the red flags and harm and damage and yet I remain docile and strive for perfection in their eyes.

This is how I’ve always done it, it’s how I’ve been conditioned to behave in relationships. I’ve been conditioned to accept that A) there will be a power imbalance and B) it will not favor me.

I no longer accept that. Today I did something that past me would not have done.

A few important things to note about the situation that allowed me to make this development are that:

1. my “picker” is getting pickier. I��ve always fallen into relationships with narcissists in the past, not because I chose them, but because they chose me and I only knew how to go along. This time, in my current relationship, I made a choice as much as they did. The quality of their character actually had a chance to play a role in deciding whether or not the relationship was worth pursuing.

2. I trust them. I trust that they care about me and want this to work. I trust that they want me to be happy and healthy and that they’re willing to grow.

We didn’t talk much today because he had a big day of doing things that I won’t get into, but then tonight when we did finally get to talk, we spent a long time discussing his day in depth and then never shifted to talking about me. Instead, he started multitasking and doing other things and talking and singing to himself. I told him if he wanted to do those things that was fine, but if we were going to be on the phone that I wanted to him to talk to me, to pay me attention. This didn’t actually turn a result, which hurt me.

Eventually, he got tired and said he was going to turn in, and wished me a goodnight. I said goodnight too, without my typical enthusiasm or affection, and he noticed that those were missing. Instead of asking why though, he simply told me to say it like I meant it, since he didn’t believe me. He has a tendency to make jokes when I’d really rather he be serious, and I’ve stopped laughing along and instead stay true to the tone I want to be received. I don’t want to diminish the weight and value my thoughts and feelings deserve. I’ve decided to not accept less than I deserve.

We hung up and I journaled a bit and felt myself getting worked up, and this is where I did a few things I’m proud of.

I called him back. He didn’t answer, so I recorded a snapchat video and told him how certain aspects of our conversation made me feel, and how I had realized that if I didn’t tell him then he’d have no way to know that those things had hurt and upset me.

This was honestly terrifying, and sending it (and not getting an immediate response) made me feel a whole other type of awful.

I decided to set a timer for 15 minutes and meditate. During my meditation, I focused on a few things. I repeatedly reminded myself that I must let go of outcome; remind myself that I spoke only about my feelings and my feelings deserve to be heard. Silencing all the spiraling thoughts about the conversations that could follow was hard, and I noticed the colors in my awareness shift as more potential outcomes forced their way in. I repeated the mantra “I deserve love” to myself and focused hard on not allowing expectations or theories about what could or may happen in. Those things aren’t real, they’re imagined. I forced myself to choose to refrain from processing events until an event actually occurred.

15 minutes passed and I felt a little lighter. Part of me still really just wanted to cry, but then eventually I got a notification. He said he was sorry, that it was more of a mental hiccup than a true representation of how he feels.

I thanked him - intentionally rerouting from a typical path of saying “it’s okay” in response to an apology. I then wished him sweet dreams and told him we’d talk tomorrow, and I meant it.

It was uncomfortable, I’ll admit. It’s never fun to confront something that hurts you, especially when it’s something or someone that you don’t want to lose. During my meditation I had to remind myself that if someone doesn’t value my feelings or have respect for me, then they aren’t the person I should be with. That’s terrifying - holding people to a higher standard. Choosing to not accept less than what I deserve is something almost completely foreign to me and is fucking scary, but it’s also sort of exhilarating. The idea that mutual respect is now a requirement, that my partner needs to give a shit about me and express that through their behavior is something I deserve. I never used to think about myself as deserving anything - at least not anything good. But now? I put so much effort into who I am and how I treat others. I’m a good, kind, caring person. I know that I am because I do it on purpose. I think that qualifies me as deserving someone who treats me the same.

It’s 5am now. My sleep schedule is off kilter in a big way. I’m going to finally stop and allow this day to end. I’ve already made a to-do list for tomorrow and I hope the day brings joy. I appreciate you reading what I have to write; it helps me to do this and I hope it helps you to read.

Goodnight and sweet dreams, remember that you deserve love.

14 notes · View notes

mertronus · 3 years

Text

Secret Mission - Chapter 8 (Epilogue)

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and gave feedback on my first fic, I appreciate you all so much and now truly know the power of commenting on others fics when I read them. (I tended to usually leave a review but now more than ever I definitely will! Your reviews really lit up my little heart!)

Here's the conclusion, tie up some loose ends...and let's not forget, Hermione had a secret of her own didn't she?

****

"So," Hermione said softly, "Harry tracked down the two witnesses who heard McLaggen?" She was lying in Ron's childhood bed with him, his orange Chudley Canons blanket draped haphazardly over their glistening bare bodies as she listened to him recount the events of the morning. They were entwined in an intimate post-coital embraced as her delicate, ink-stained fingers toyed wit his long, calloused fingers lazily - almost as if they were conducting a slow, mesmerizing dance in mid-air. Ron's return followed immediately by the wedding, reception and basically spending the entire day celebrating the newlyweds with family meant they did not get a moment alone until they retired to Ron's bedroom after the festivities were over.

But, they did save the actual catching up for after Hermione properly welcomed Ron home, and he showed her just how much he missed her. In the afterglow came the questions and explanations.

"Yup," Ron said enthusiastically. "I don't know how he did it, but he found them and brought them into the Ministry to speak to Robards and a member of the Wizengamot. They told them everything they heard McLaggen saying, including the way he was talking about you."

"I can't believe he said those foul things," Hermione said in disgust, clutching the blanket to her chest as if the vile man was in the room at that very moment. "It feels...violating, the way he was looking at me. So to hear what he said?" She shuddered and Ron pulled her close, kissing her temple.

"I know love," he said, his voice low. "But he can't come anywhere near you. And he won't if he knows what's good for him." Hermione leaned into her husband, grateful for the way he made her feel safe. Ron kept his arms around her as he continued recounting the events of the morning. "And the great thing is, the witch from the Wizengamot agreed that he was out of line. She seemed like a right prude witch, probably even a bit of a - what'd you call it? Feminist?" Hermione nodded. "Yeah, so she was as offended as if McLaggen said them to her! She told Robards that it was her opinion that I acted accordingly - as any doting husband should act in defense of his wife - and that I should be released immediately. Her words exactly," he chuckled. "Robards still wrote me up, as a warning, but no further action will be taken."

"Oh Ron that's wonderful!"

"I know, isn't it? It also helped that the witnesses both stated that I did not actually use my wand on McLaggen, like the bloody tosser claims I did, and that they did not see me have one drink the entire time I was in the Leaky. Harry always pulls through for me." He smiled. "We always pull through for each other, really."

"Harry is amazing. Ginny too. Your entire family." She smiled and propped herself up on her elbow hovering over him slightly. "I'm so in love with your family Ron. I've barely been with them for 24 hours and yet...I can't explain it. I feel like this is home. More so than my own home has ever felt. I love my parents, but being here...I can't explain it."

Ron raised his hand to rest on her cheek, his thumb running lightly along the corner of her lip. "You don't have to explain, I get it. And I'm so happy you feel that way." He looked at her for a moment then remembered another important piece of information that was lost in the shuffle of the day. He sat up and rested against the headboard and grinned. "Guess what else?"

Hermione sat up and faced him, holding the blanket over her chest. "What?"

"We don't have to head back to France after all."

"Oh?"

"The team from Belgium came through. They captured the last three wizards who were on the run last night. Robards will be sending word tomorrow for us all to come in for a briefing on Monday, but he got word while he was with me so I was first to know." He smiled, then looked at Hermione and frowned. "Unless...you have to go back to France, don't you?" Ron realized they never actually discussed Hermione's plans after the mission. Where she would work and what it would mean for them. He felt a knot growing in his stomach.

"Well," she started, suddenly enraptured with a loose thread in his blanket, "I actually wanted to talk to you about...staying in London."

"Really?" Ron's heart raced happily, the knot disappearing immediately.

"Yes, really. I was speaking with your brother Percy earlier today, and he mentioned quite a few openings in a couple of departments that peeked my interest at the British Ministry. He already said that between you, Harry, him and Arthur and probably even Robards and Ledwig, I could get any position I set my eye on at the Ministry. I already have the connections on top of my education and experience -"

"And your brilliance," Ron added with a smile.

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes playfully at the compliment. "Yes, well...anyway...I had already spoke to my boss in Paris about the possibility that I may stay here. I've been helping with research from afar, and may have to travel to Paris soon to tie up a few things, but as my only real task these last few months was the mission with your team," she shrugged and looked back up at Ron, "I can pretty much make a clean break."

"So...you'll stay here - WE'LL stay here - and you'll work in the British Ministry?"

"That's my hope?" She smiled but then her face got serious. "But as an Auror MAC, you may have more extended missions, won't you?"

Ron nodded slowly. "But, I was talking to Robards about that today, and he said we can discuss if I want to remain with the Auror MACS or make a switch. If I stay with the MACs though, and do have to leave, at least knowing that you'll be here, surrounded by my family...I'll hate to leave you but I'll feel better about it."

"Just don't go falling in love with an intern helping the team in Bulgaria or something," she joked. Ron pulled her into him, pressing her body flush against his own.

"I could never," he whispered, dotting her cheek and jaw with light kisses. "You are it for me Hermione Granger-Weasley."

"Good, because I quite like you too."

They settled back into the pillows holding each other close, then Ron cleared his throat. "So, we have some work to do Mrs. Weasley."

"What's that Auror Weasley?"

"Well, I figure step 1 is we'll need to find a home. I don't fancy shagging my wife for much longer in my childhood bedroom."

"A home? Like...a house?"

"Well, yeah. We could just get a flat in London, but that might hinder step two."

"And what is step two?"

"Step two is to put a baby in you," he growled into her neck while spreading his large hand over her bare stomach.

Hermione bit her lip and grinned, then she shook her head. "Oh Ronald. You did it again."

"Did what again?" he asked pushing up on his elbow over her with a concerned look. "What did I do?"

"You skipped step one...and went right for step two." Ron stared at her puzzled, then chuckled when he remembered that his plans were not for Ginny and Harry to know about their marriage first, but second.

Suddenly he sat all the way up, thinking about what Hermione just said. "I did wh-what now?"

Hermione sat up too, and took his hand and placed it back on her belly. "Step two...you've already done." Ron's wide eyes darted between her stomach and her own deep brown eyes. "I was feeling poorly a bit this week, so I went to St. Mungo's yesterday to confirm. I'm pregnant Ron," she whispered the last sentence.

"Y-you're...I'm gonna...we're...really?!" Hermione nodded smiling. Ron pulled Hermione onto his lap and peppered her entire face with kisses. "Oh Mione!...This is...so amazing...Merlin!...I love you...so much...so fucking much!" He continued planting kisses all over her cheeks and jaw and neck in between his professions of love as Hermione giggled in his arms. He lay her down tenderly then moved the orange blanket from over her. He touched her smooth stomach lightly and tried to imagine how it would look as the months went by, growing rounder right in front of him. He leaned in and kissed her stomach reverently. "I love you too, little one." He looked back up at Hermione and saw the tears in her eyes. "Oh love," he whispered as he straightened out to lay next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.

"I love you too Ron. So much. You insufferable prat," she teased.

"You love me because I'm an insufferable prat or in spite of?"

Hermione's laugh filled the room. "Hard to say!" She said through chuckles.

"Merlin, I love your laugh," Ron breathed out.

"Good thing you're relatively funny then!" Ron rolled his eyes and tickled her, delighted to hear the sound of her laugh once again reverberate around the room.

****

A/N: All the secrets are out! Yay! This was a really fun fic to write...so much so that I already have a few one-shot ideas that will be based on this AU so keep an eye out on FFN/AO3! I think we need to see more of Ron and Hermione's growing love in France, don't you? Or maybe I'll write the "before" story...hmmmm... We'll see! Now that I've "popped my cherry" and shared my first fic (and received so much love!) there's definitely more to come! I'm working on a massive one right now that I'll start to get out to you all shortly, and another completed fic I'm sitting on. So, until next time...Mertronus OUT 3

#Ron Weasley #auror ron weasley #ron and hermione #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #hermione granger #au harry potter

12 notes · View notes

sol-tinyrayofsun · 4 years

Text

Zutara Week Day 5 - Hesitancy: What Am I To Say?

Alright, this was actually the first thing I wrote for Zutara Week. It’s angsty as hell, but with a nice ending. I love fluff but angst just gets me every time. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy it as much as I do. As ever, thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! <3

Also on AO3!

Title: What Am I To Say?

Rating: G

Summary: “Choices, Katara,” he continued to say, noticing her silence. “It’s all about choices.” Zuko was telling the truth. She had unfortunately made sure to push him away five years ago. One stupid decision that had shattered every last bit of her existence. Even worse, it had also damaged many others. On a split second, all those moons ago, Katara had managed to secure heartache for them both.

------

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since the last time she had properly faced him. Their last conversation dated from months ago. And what a dull chat had it been. The frigidity caused by a choice she had made five years ago had ultimately marked the fallout of their relationship. But everything was different now. She knew he was aware of it. Still, she felt hesitant. The idea of owning up her mistakes to him terrified her. Maybe focusing strictly on the reason why she had been summoned there would be her best bet.

Katara descended from the carriage that had brought her all the way to the gates of the Fire Nation Royal Palace. The humid weather took her by surprise. She had gotten too used to the cold air of the South Pole. After all, the last few months had found her recluded to her duties within the Southern Water Tribe. Her family had unsuccessfully tried to get her to go out into the world on multiple occasions. Nothing had worked, she just wanted to figure out things by herself for a while.

Still, there she was. Back to where their undoing had started. She shook her head as she tried to put on her brightest smile. Lifting up her sight from the concrete courtyard ground, his golden eyes met hers. This was it. The moment she had dreaded for more than a week. She felt her heart skipping a beat. It was him.

“Master Katara.” His voice was raspy, sharp. “A pleasure to see you again. May I ask how was your trip?” He extended his hand to her.

There it was. That ice-cold attitude. It killed her, destroyed her to the very core. She wanted to scream, to make him drop his ridiculous act. Really, after all we have gone through? When are you going to stop shutting me down? she thought as she remembered an answer was expected from her. Right, diplomacy. What a tricky little thing.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” she greeted him as she took his hand. That simple touch was enough to make her whole body flinch. “The trip was fine, thanks. I assume the rest of the delegates have arrived already.”

Both of them dropped their hands. She hated every second of that awkward and impersonal interaction. It seemed like things had only gotten worse with the passing of time.

“Well, let me and my guards escort you to your room. The meeting is at five in the afternoon, sharp,” Zuko said as he gestured her to start walking. “Be sure to let me know if there’s anything else you might need.”

Following his lead, she looked him in the eyes. His gaze was puzzling, apparently impossible to decipher. Still, she could’ve sworn she perceived a strain of warmth somewhere behind the nervous batting of his eyelashes.

“Thank you, Zuko. I’ll make sure to be there on time.”

Katara felt as if her words had no real meaning. There was simply so much more to be said. She wanted to tell him to stop the nonsense, to ask how he was feeling, to question him about how he found out about what had happened in her life three months ago. But it wasn’t the time or place. It never seemed to be for the two of them. Her mind kept vacillating, completely disoriented, and as clouded as a stormy sky. It wouldn’t be the first time he messed with her judgment.

Repressing a frustrated sigh, she hurried into the Palace. The sooner she could be done with her visit, the better. That way she could go back to her quiet routine at the South Pole without any delays. Every single moment she spent there felt like a dagger sinking down on her chest. There were just too many memories, too many shadows of what it could have been. She wasn’t in the mood for an annoying “What if…?” to come waltzing into her life. Real life wasn’t as easy as a fairytale. She had made her choice years ago. Now, she was trying to live with its consequences. And to get through her visit to the Fire Nation without breaking down.

The council room was packed with delegates. Katara couldn’t help but curse the timing of the meeting. Just when she was starting to get back some sense of normalcy into her life, business had dragged her there once again.

The international collaboration between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes had run smoothly for years. What a brilliant moment for Blaze Industries to start questioning the price of the oil the Southern Water Tribe provided them with. Of course, once one company inquired, the rest of them followed. In no time, a council was needed to discuss whether the terms of the economic alliance should be reviewed or left alone.

She had enough on her plate already. Being the first functional year of the Southern Water Tribe Waterbending Academy, work was as hefty as ever. Not to mention the most recent occurrence within her personal life. It had left her in a muddle, questioning her judgment. She had even isolated from all her friends. All because of her unwillingness to be honest with herself, or with anyone for that matter, until it was too late. Way too late to avoid any harm to be made.

Katara shook her head, making sure to be grounded enough before the meeting began. She wasn’t about to let her private dilemmas interfere with her work.

Everyone stood still as the doors opened one last time before starting. Fire Lord Zuko made its way to his usual seat. All that time and she still remembered to perfection where he used to seat at every meeting. With a polite nod, he saluted the attendees as he prepared to speak.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here today,” he greeted them. “I understand that Blaze Industries wanted to be the first one to present a statement. So without further ado let’s allow them to start. Chief Executive Kian?”

The chairwoman didn’t take long to comply. The assembly had officially started. If it went well she could be on her way home by the next day. She prompted herself to drop her concerns about her relationship with Zuko. The economic future of her Tribe could be jeopardized in the case the oil issue wasn’t handled properly. She could get sentimental some other time.

The nocturnal breeze caused her hair to sweep across her cheeks. Stars lit up the sky like snowflakes dancing around the darkness of the night. The light wind made the water ripple softly across the turtleduck pond. Silence hung in the air that surrounded the courtyard of the Royal Palace. As she strolled around the gardens, Katara wondered what on earth was she doing there.

Maybe she had just gotten tired of the solitude of her room, a place so impersonal that it felt almost insulting. The walls of this palace had once been like a home to her. Now the place was suffocating her, reminding her of why she was in that position in the first place. Or perhaps she had been drawn there by all those memories. Ghosts from brighter times.

It wasn’t like the outcome of the assembly had provided her with a reason for feeling so uneasy. She had managed to keep Blaze Industries and the rest of the companies at bay without harming their economic alliance. All that fuss for nothing. It only took for her to remind them of all the benefits of having her tribe as the primary oil supplier alongside a slight warning that a price increase might be necessary if they didn’t hold their end of the bargain to get them to stand down.

Of course, Zuko had backed her up. Despite everything that had happened between them, one thing had always been clear: they would do their best to support each other no matter what. Anyways, aside from that detail, she was sure Zuko knew how outrageous Blaze Industries’ claim was. He would never allow anyone of his Nation to take advantage of outsiders, not under his watch. After all, it was that attitude that made him such a good leader for his people. Peace had remained intact around the world thanks to leaders like them.

Seems like some things just don’t change, Katara thought as she sat by the turtleduck pond. Nothing was the same anymore, but there she was, back where it had all started to fall apart. That place brought back too many memories, good memories. She couldn’t help but smile, staring at the clear night sky, thinking about the time the entire gang had hosted a theater evening right in that same courtyard. Her heart felt bittersweetly warm from the vivid evocation of happier and easier days.

“What are you smiling about?” a familiar voice asked her.

A flinch. A heartbeat. A realization. He was right there, wasn’t he? Katara lowered down her sight, tilting her head to be able to look at him.

“I’m not smiling, Zuko.” Her words came out a little harsher than expected. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Well, that’s a great way to greet someone you care about, isn’t it?

They stared into each other’s eyes, paralyzed. He was still meters away from her, analyzing her from a cautious distance. Katara wasn’t sure if he would come any closer. His cold facade probably included ignoring her to death.

Still, Zuko took a step forward. And another. All the way up to where she was sitting.

“Has the outcome of the assembly brought you any relief?” He was standing right before her, with a puzzling expression on his face.

Of course, he would only come near to torture her with even more politics. She brought her knees closer to her chest, in an unconscious attempt to shield herself from the torment she was feeling. She couldn’t take it any longer.

“The outcome of the assembly was expected. What a shame I had to come all the way here to calm down some dull businessmen.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the primary Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe?”

Shocker. As if he didn’t know what she did for a living. Though, she hadn’t been acting like a proper ambassador for the last three months. At least regarding the traveling.

“Yes, Zuko, I am! Spirits, know you’re going to pretend we don’t know each other?” She hadn’t expected to be on the verge of screaming. Still, she didn’t care anymore. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they?

His eyes widened. Guess he wasn’t expecting her to get so loud either.

“Katara, you’ve been a complete ghost for three months. None of our friends were able to reach you,” he said as he let out a sigh. “We might as well be strangers at this point.”

“But we are not!” That’s it, her tone couldn’t possibly get any louder. “You didn’t even try to look for me! And don’t even pretend you didn’t know. Everyone knew. Everyone knew what a fool of myself I had made.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of the fact that I was the one who had to come running up to you after what you decided!”

She abruptly dragged herself to her feet. “But you knew! You knew what it meant for me to decline Aang’s proposal! Spirits, Zuko, you probably saw that one coming!” Her voice trailed off in an exasperated scream.

“Of course I saw it coming, but it wasn’t my place to interfere anymore, was it?” His voice started to shake.

Katara stayed quiet, unable to react to his statement. Looking at him now, at the way his eyes reflected a great deal of resentment, she felt more regret than ever before.

“Choices, Katara,” he continued to say, noticing her silence. “It’s all about choices.”

Zuko was telling the truth. She had unfortunately made sure to push him away five years ago. One stupid decision that had shattered every last bit of her existence. Even worse, it had also damaged many others. On a split second, all those moons ago, Katara had managed to secure heartache for them both.

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how sorry I am for tearing us apart? Do you want me to break into tears and confess how ridiculous I feel?” She felt a lump on her throat. “What do you want from me, Zuko?! Please, drop your act. I know in some corner of your heart you still care about me.”

“I’m not performing any kind of act!” He looked exhausted, worn out, defeated. “You were the one who told me we shouldn’t be together, or have you forgotten about that? You said I should go with Mai and you had to accept to be with Aang. A whole year, Katara, a whole year we sneaked around in the shadows, all because you were afraid of admitting the truth to yourself!”

He was right. Spirits, every word that came out of his mouth broke her walls down a little more.

Five years. Five miserable years since she had broken them up to be with someone else. To be with Aang, and for Zuko to be with Mai. All for what? Right there, standing in the courtyard, screaming at the person she had managed to push too far away, she had no clue.

“Zuko… I - It was all - I know, alright?” she mumbled, a treacherous tear streaming down her cheek. “It was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made.”

“Then, please, don’t look at me like I was the one who broke your heart. Because all I wanted to do was to be with you.” He sat down, staring at the ground. “That’s why I ended things with Mai so soon, unlike you, I wasn’t ready to wake up every day knowing I was lying to myself.”

He must’ve known his words were utterly harsh. But they uncovered an awful truth. She had been lying to herself for years. And the result had been more than clear. Three months ago she had rejected Aang’s marriage proposition, to everyone’s surprise. Except for a certain firebender that was familiar with every single one of her rough edges. As Aang pleaded for her to spend the rest of her life by his side, she had realized that was not what she wanted. Not who she wanted. Too late. Repeatedly too late. What a mess she had made.

Katara plummeted to the floor, sitting next to him. The nocturnal breeze caused her to shudder. No one else was there. It was only them, finally saying what they had wanted to confess for years.

“You know why I rejected Aang, right?” She finally asked, hoping her question would get him to look at her.

“Because you were never in love with him? Katara, why are you doing this? Your failed relationship is none of my business anymore. Plus, Aang told me all about it. I would prefer not to have to endure that torture once again.”

Wait.

“Aang talked with you about our breakup?”

“Don’t you realize that while you were hiding from reality the world kept turning? We’re friends, of course, he told me all about how you broke his heart.” He chuckled, bitterly smiling. “Little did he know, you broke mine first.”

“No, you don’t get to do this,” she blurted out, feeling her voice getting louder once again. “You don’t get to pin this all on me. You should’ve stopped me! If you were so certain we had to be together why on earth didn’t you do something about it?”

He finally lifted his sight, his eyes were puffy. “What did you want me to say? I practically begged you, Spirits, I told you I loved you. And you said you loved me too, but that you had to go. You left. I didn’t. I’m sorry for thinking that was what you wanted.”

“Zuko, I’m sorry too, alright? What am I to say now? I can’t turn back time.”

“You’re right, you can’t. Guess we’ll both have to live with it.” He started to get up from the ground. “Goodnight. I´m sorry, I can´t bear this any longer”

“Wait!” She grasped his arm with such intensity she thought she might’ve hurt him. “Please, don’t leave. I….”

“Katara, you asked me if I knew why you rejected Aang.” His voice was shaking. “Anything you want me to know?”

“It’s true, I rejected Aang because I didn’t love him,” she started to say, feeling her heart pounding on her chest. “Because I still love you, Zuko. I never stopped loving you.”

There. The secret was about. Five years of burying the truth deep inside her, endless days and nights of finding herself crying for no apparent reason. But the reason was there, it had always been there. It was him. She cried because of him. She cried for the love she had lost. For the person she had pushed away in an attempt of selling a lie to herself. She loved Zuko with every fiber of her being. It had always been there, burning in the back of her mind. And now he knew it too.

Silence. That was all the response she got from him. Silence and a pair of golden eyes looking thoroughly at her.

“Say something,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “At least have the guts to say you don’t love me anymore. Because I’ve just told you something that’s been killing me for years. I love you, and I’m sorry.”

Nothing. For a moment, there was nothing. Not even a blink.

Then Zuko grasped her shoulders and kissed her. It took her by surprise, almost making her question if perhaps their entire interaction was just a dream. But it wasn’t. It was real, crazy, unexpected. He was kissing her like they were running out of time; like somebody might pull them apart at any second.

Needless to say, she was kissing him back. She was kissing him like she had never kissed anyone before. Desperately, emotionally, and with a newfound intensity. This was the most alive she had felt in months. Right there, glued to the person she had once let go of.

Almost out of breath, Zuko pulled apart first. His eyes were glistening in the moonlight. A mysterious grin had taken over his face.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Katara, I’ve always loved you.”

Spirits, she couldn’t believe her luck.

“Then why did you shut me down like that?”

“Because you were with Aang! I had to keep my distance or it would have destroyed me.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “When I found out you had rejected him I… I wanted to go after you, to tell you that it was the right decision. I was dying to make you feel less alone. But I couldn’t do that to you, to Aang, or to myself. You needed to figure out what you wanted.”

“I want you, Zuko,” Katara said as she felt herself crying again. “I screwed up. Big time. I never should’ve made us go our separate ways. There´s nothing I regret more.”

“So what now, then?”

“Can we start over, please? I know there’s no way to erase the last five years from our memory. But we could make this right. We can make this work the second time around. Together.”

“I suppose we could do it. But, don’t you care what everyone else would think?”

“No, not anymore. I won’t make the same mistake again.” She cupped his cheeks into her hands, pressing her forehead onto his. “If you let me, I’ll prove to you that you’re all I want.”

His eyes showed he wanted it, too. Katara was sure of it. They had never stopped loving each other.

“Of course I’ll let you,” he replied, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Does this mean you’re not leaving tomorrow? Because I really should let the coachman know whether he has to prepare the carriage or not.”

Katara chuckled, considering his teasing an invitation to stay a little longer.

“I think I won’t be leaving until we figure this out.”

“Good, then you’ll add it to your schedule and I’ll add it to mine,” he joked.

“Are you going to keep chatting or does kissing me sound like a better idea to you?”

“Why don’t we wait another five years and I’ll see how it suits me then?”

“Sure,” Katara planted a kiss on his lips. “Whoops, five years are over.”

Zuko’s response seemed to agree with her since it only consisted of multiple kisses all over her face. She kissed him back, burying her fingers into his hair, making a mess of his Fire Lord looks. Neither of them cared anymore. They were finally together.

One choice had been her undoing. Yet, somehow, a single assembly had also pushed her to make things right. She couldn’t turn back time, but she could make the most out of the mess she’d caused years ago. And, Spirits, she had every intention to do so.

------ See? I promised you the ending was a happy one. I hope you enjoyed it! <3 @zutaraweek

#zutara #zutara week 2020 #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #every week is zutara week baby

49 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Ms. California - Chapter Three (Crygi) - Mik

AN: Here’s chapter three! I’m going to plan on updating two or three times per week, depending on how much time to write I have. Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy it! Any and all feedback is appreciated.

Summary: Crystal moves to Los Angeles from Missouri and meets Gigi Goode, captain of the varsity cheer squad. Queue the 1990s lesbian high school AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

Crystal pauses before she places her palm - which has become oddly clammy - on the door knob. She takes a deep breath in and exhales before she opens the door.

Gigi is standing on Crystal’s doorstep, and although Crystal was expecting the blonde to be there, she’s still taken back by her presence. She’s an absolute vision in pink, Crystal decides. She’s wearing a baby pink, satin dress that hugs her body, accentuating her small waist and petite figure. It falls just above her mid-thigh, and Crystal can’t help but notice that it makes her legs appear even longer than they usually do. Her blonde hair hangs in loose curls around her neck. Crystal’s eyes are drawn to the gold necklace that Gigi is wearing; it’s short and a charm with a cursive “G” hangs from it.

“Hi,” Crystal says with a smile.

“Hey,” Gigi greets. “You look really pretty tonight!”

Crystal can’t formulate an intelligible response. It feels like firecrackers were just lit off in her brain - Gigi was calling her pretty. So, instead, she looks around, hastily trying to think of something to say.

“Is that your car?” Crystal asks, motioning towards the street, sure that her face is several shades darker than the pink of the dress that Gigi is wearing.

“It is! Are you ready to get going?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Crystal replies, following Gigi down the steps of her porch.

Crystal doesn’t think that she’s ever seen a more Californian car that the one Gigi owns. It’s a convertible and it’s a bright shade of magenta. From what Crystal knows about Gigi, it suits her well.

Crystal opens the passenger door and settles herself in the seat. She’s never been in a convertible before; it seems very glamorous.

“Oh, do you want me to put the top back up? The wind can really mess up your hair,” Gigi asks.

“No, it’s totally cool - I’ve never rode in a convertible before. Do you have an extra scrunchie or something?”

“I should! Let me just check in my purse,” Gigi says as she begins rifling through her handbag. She pulls out a purple scrunchie, and hands it to Crystal. “Here you go!”

“Thanks,” Crystal grins and begins tying up her hair. She watches as Gigi throws her own hair up into a high ponytail.

Gigi starts the car, and Crystal soon realizes that Gigi was not kidding about the wind. They drive relatively slowly at first - Crystal lives in a cul de sac - but when Gigi turns onto the main road, Crystal can barely hear herself think. The wind pounds in her ears and she can feel her hair flying everywhere, even from the confines of the scrunchie. She’s almost grateful for the noise because although she wants to talk to Gigi, the nerves of being on a first date are getting to her. She has no idea what to say to her and she’s terrified that when she does say something, she’ll say the wrong thing. Crystal doesn’t even know if she’s into Gigi like that because Gigi’s a girl and Crystal still doesn’t know if she’s infatuated or confused or just really wants to be the blonde’s friend.

They’re on a date, so Crystal reminds herself that it isn’t the latter. She is, at the very least, somewhat infatuated with her. For whatever reason, it’s hard for Crystal to admit that.

Crystal tries to let her thoughts go and focus on the world around her; they’re flying down what appears to be the 101 freeway now. There are more cars here than she has seen in her lifetime.

Crystal can’t tell how long it’s been, but eventually, Gigi steers them towards an exit. The wind slows, and Crystal’s heartbeat speeds up. The sound of the wind can no longer protect her from having to make conversation and she still doesn’t know what to say.

“So, how are you liking Los Angeles so far?” Gigi asks. Crystal internally breathes a sigh of relief - at least Gigi initiated a discussion.

“I like it a lot,” Crystal answers. “It’s very different from what I’m used to, but it’s not bad by any means. I’ve only been here for a handful of weeks, though.”

“Where are you from?” Gigi asks.

“Missouri. Have you been?”

“No, I haven’t. Did you like it there?” Gigi questions.

Crystal pauses, needing to contemplate her answer. She’s never thought about whether or not she actually liked Missouri - it was always just a permanent fixture in her life, a constant, a given. She’d never moved before she came to Los Angeles - not even from one house to another - so her opinions of it seemed almost trivial, because she’d be stuck there no matter what.

“I don’t actually know,” Crystal admits. “It was really quaint and the people were nice, but I didn’t have anything else to compare it to. It’s hard to decide if you like something or not when it’s all you’ve ever known, you know?”

“I get that. I feel the same way about Los Angeles most of the time,” Gigi agrees.

The two sit in a comfortable silence for several minutes, until Gigi pulls into a parking lot.

“We’re here!” she announces, parking the car. “Aren’t you so excited to try sushi?”

“I am,” Crystal confirms. “And also kind of nervous - eating raw fish seems kind of dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“I guess so, but I’ve been eating it since I was a little kid, so if you need proof that you won’t die or something, here I am,” Gigi laughs as she gets out of the car.

Crystal follows her to the entrance of a run-down looking building. Thankfully, the interior doesn’t match the exterior: it’s dimly lit, but nicely decorated. The walls are a deep red color, and there are pictures of what seem to be various sushi chefs in Japan hanging on the walls. Crystal notices that candles and flowers adorn the top of each table.

“Reservation for two under Goode,” Gigi tells the host at the front of the restaurant.

“Right this way.” The girls follow him to a table in the back of the dining area; it seems almost secluded from the rest of the tables. “Your server will be with you shortly,” the host places two menus in front of them and quickly walks back to the front.

“So, what do you usually order?” Crystal asks after looking through the menu. She doesn’t know what anything is.

“I’m a big fan of the rainbow roll, the dynamite roll, and the spider roll. I can just order all three and we can share - they’re pretty filling.”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” Crystal agrees, closing her menu.

“Was sushi not a big thing in Missouri?” Gigi asks.

“Not so much,” Crystal shrugs. “But we had really great barbecue and burgers!”

“Interesting! What brought your family all the way to Los Angeles?”

“My dad’s job - he works in finance. I don’t really know what he does, but it sounds important, so here we are! Have you ever moved?”

“Nope, not even to a new house. My parents are pretty well-established here, and I guess I am too, so there’s been no reason to move,” Gigi replies.

“Do you ever want to move?”

“Yeah, I guess I do, someday. I have it pretty good here though, so I don’t know where I’d move to.”

“That makes sense,” Crystal nods.

The waitress makes her way over, interrupting the conversation. Gigi orders, and Crystal is thankful that she doesn’t have to try to remember the names of the rolls.

“So, you’re a senior right?” asks Gigi.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Have you thought about college or anything?”

“It’s practically all I’ve been thinking about for the past six months,” Crystal jokes. “I’m waiting to hear back from NYU, The New School, and Pratt.”

“So you want to move to New York?”

“Ideally - that’s where all of the cool art stuff seems to be happening, anyways!”

“Do you want to be an artist?” the blonde inquires.

“It sounds cliche, but I feel like I’m already an artist,” Crystal shares. “I just need to get the degree so I can say I have it, you know? It looks good for jobs and stuff, I guess.”

Gigi nods solemnly. “I wish I knew what I wanted to do. I guess I haven’t thought past high school much until now.”

Their food comes, and the pair are shaken out of their conversation.

“Okay, so, you should totally try the rainbow roll first…”

If there is one thing Crystal knows, it’s that she does not like sushi. And, if there’s another thing that Crystal knows, it’s that she does like Gigi Goode.

Crystal ate half of the three sushi rolls they ordered, with a smile on her face, so Gigi wouldn’t feel bad about suggesting it. She tells Gigi how much she loves sushi, and agrees to try sashimi - which Crystal learns is just plain raw fish - at some point.

Crystal is a picky eater, and she’s not shy about it. If she doesn’t like it, she won’t eat it.

Unless it’s to save the feelings of a pretty blonde girl, apparently.

“So, I don’t know if you have a curfew or anything, but there’s a movie showing over in West Hollywood that I’ve heard is pretty great,” Gigi tells Crystal as they walk back to the car.

“My parents didn’t tell me to be back at a certain time, so I think I’m all good,” Crystal grins. She doesn’t know much about dating, but if Gigi wants to keep the date going, it must be a pretty good first date.

The drive to West Hollywood goes by quickly - Gigi plays Ani DiFranco loudly, prompting Crystal to make a joke about how she must have inherited Jackie’s taste in music.

“It’s not even a gay thing, I swear! It’s justreally good!” Gigi exclaims.

It’s the first time Crystal has heard Gigi even indirectly refer to herself as “gay”; she doesn’t know why it feels like an important moment, but it does.

The first thing Crystal notices about West Hollywood is that it’s very “out-and-proud”. Rainbow flags line the windows of the majority of the businesses and bars, and pride flags fly alongside American flags in all of the medians. She definitely hasn’t ever seen anything like this in Missouri; it’s completely new to her.

“So, not to sound totally ignorant, but is this where all of the gay people live or something?” Crystal asks Gigi.

Gigi giggles, “No, I wouldn’t say it’s where all of the gay people live, but it’s like… I don’t know, it’s a safe haven, I guess.”

“Do you go to a lot of the bars around here?” Crystal asks.

“Well, they’re all age-restricted, so it’s kind of hard to get in. But off the record, I do have a fake ID. It’s pretty terrible, in all honesty, so I’m kind of counting down the days until I get it taken,” Gigi laughs.

Gigi intrigues Crystal; she wants - needs - to know more. She’s so worldly compared to Crystal, and even though Crystal knows Gigi is only one year younger than her, she feels like she should have more life experience than the seventeen year old.

“How did you get a fake ID? Do your parents know?” Crystal asks.

“You have a lot of questions, Crys,” Gigi jokes, and Crystal blushes at the nickname. “I got it from a friend of a friend last year. My parents have no idea, they think I’m at Jan’s house or hanging out with the other girls from the squad when I’m out here.”

“You’re adventurous. That would terrify me.”

“It’s not too scary, honestly,” Gigi parks her car alongside the curb. “It’s scarier being at school and carrying around the secret that I do.”

“I could only imagine.”

The two exit the car, and Gigi locks it behind her. They begin walking down the sidewalk.

“Are you out?”

Crystal’s mind goes blank - out as what? She doesn’t even know if there’s something to come out as in the first place. All she knows is that she likes this whole “going on dates with Gigi” thing.

Crystal shrugs, and tries to change the subject.

“How close are we to the theater? I need to use the restroom.”

“Three minutes, tops!” Gigi doesn’t seem to notice Crystal’s avoidance of the question, thankfully.

The movie theater is small and it looks old; it has a vintage charm to it. Gigi approaches the ticket booth.

“Two tickets to Go Fish please,” Gigi hands twelve dollars to the ticketer, and walks back to Crystal. “Here’s your ticket!”

“Do you want me to pay you back? How much was it?” Crystal grabs for her wallet.

“No, don’t worry about it!”

“I feel bad, please let me pay you back,” Crystal insists.

“You can pay for our next date,” Gigi casually throws the words “next date” around and it makes Crystal’s stomach tie itself up in knots.

“Yeah,” Crystal stutters out, unable to think or speak clearly.

Gigi agrees to save them seats while Crystal goes to the restroom. She makes her way into the single-stalled bathroom, and stares at herself in the mirror. “You’re gay!” she whispers to herself in an aggressive tone. “Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, and maybe only for Gigi, but you are at least kind of gay!”

Saying it aloud makes her feel better; it’s as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

Crystal makes her way into the theater - it’s packed. She notices that the majority of the audience members are women, and visibly gay women at that. She sees women with short, buzzed hair, and others wearing acrylics and make-up. Some fall in between the categories of “masculine” and “feminine”.

She finds Gigi sitting in the center of the back row.

“Good seat selection,” she comments with a smile.

Gigi opens her mouth to respond, but the lights dim and the movie begins.

Crystal had no idea that they would be seeing a lesbian movie; she didn’t even know such a thing existed. She supposes she should have figured as much, considering they’re seeing the movie in West Hollywood and that she’s seeing it while on a date with another girl.

The first time Crystal sees two girls kiss, her heart jumps out of her chest. It’s passionate, it’s sweet, it’s romantic, it’s… kind of hot. She kind of wants to kiss Gigi like that, but she pushes the thought out of her mind immediately, almost embarrassed to have thought it in the first place. Crystal looks to her side to see Gigi’s reaction. She can’t make out much in the darkness of the theater, but Gigi appears to have a visible smile on her face.

Crystal finds her investment in the movie endearing.

The movie continues on, but that kiss is burned into the back of her mind. She catches bits and pieces of the plot, but her mind keeps drifting to places she’d rather it not.

What would it be like to kiss Gigi? What would her lips taste like? How would they feel? What would her hair smell like?

She’s only pulled out of her innermost thoughts when she feels a soft hand brush against her arm. She looks down at the armrest where Gigi has placed her hand just centimeters from her own.

The armrest is small - small enough that Crystal assumes Gigi hadn’t put her arm on it for comfort, because their arms are crammed together - and Crystal almost reaches out to grab Gigi’s hand.

Almost.

Because Gigi does it first.

Initially, it’s just two pinky fingers brushing against each other, and then Gigi is sliding her hand into Crystal’s palm with uncertainty. Crystal intertwines her fingers with Gigi’s, squeezing her hand to let her know that she does want this. Crystal wants to glance at Gigi to see if she’s smiling - because Crystal definitely is - but she can’t bring herself to.

The rest of the movie blows by. Crystal is distracted by the way Gigi’s hand feels in her own and how Gigi’s thumb rubs her finger in soft circles.

When the movie ends, Crystal half expects Gigi to stand up and let go of her hand, reserving this particular activity for the darkness that the back of the movie theater provides them.

But she doesn’t. She stands up, and Gigi and Crystal walk out of the theater hand-in-hand.

“What time is it?” Crystal asks as soon as they’re out of the door.

“Let me check my watch,” Gigi responds.

Again, Crystal expects Gigi to let go of her hand to check the watch - it’s wrapped around her left wrist, the wrist of the hand that Crystal is holding - but instead she brings up their hands jointly to look at the watch.

“It’s 9:15. Do I need to get you home?”

“Probably soon, yeah, or my mom will start to think I’ve been kidnapped,” Crystal jokes.

“Sounds good to me. We definitely wouldn’t want that!”

They walk to the car in silence. Crystal has butterflies in her stomach, in her head, in her hands, in her legs… her entire body feels fluttery and jittery. That’s the effect Gigi has on her.

“So, how’d you like the movie?”

“Oh, um, I liked it, it was good,” Crystal answers vaguely in an attempt to disguise the fact that she had been paying much more attention to Gigi’s hand - and her own thoughts - than the movie itself.

“Me too,” Gigi agrees, “I think it’s one of my new favorites!”

Gigi begins driving, and Crystal feels the warm California air envelop her. Gigi sings along to a song that Crystal doesn’t know the name of, barely audible over the sound of the wind, but still loud enough to completely and totally captivate Crystal. The lights of the city disappear behind the car as they drive, and all Crystal can do is smile.

The drive goes by more quickly than Crystal would have liked it to; she knows it’s late and she needs to get home, but nothing sounds better than holding Gigi’s hand for another two hours.

“Is this your house?”

“Yeah, it is,” Crystal sighs. “I had a really fun time tonight.”

“Me too,” Gigi whispers, turning her head to look at Crystal.

The lowlight of the street lamps illuminate the dark sky, and Crystal can’t seem to focus on anything aside from Gigi’s bright red lips. Crystal knows that she wants to kiss Gigi, and she can tell that Gigi wants that, too. But there go those damn butterflies again. She’s never been in this position and doing the wrong thing at the wrong time absolutely terrifies her. Kissing a girl terrifies her.

The only thing she can think to do is tuck a stray strand of hair that flew out of Gigi’s ponytail behind her ear - that’s what they did in all of the cheesy romance movies Crystal had watched, anyways. This elicits a quiet giggle from Gigi, and Crystal’s heart melts.

“What’s so funny?” Crystal smiles.

“Nothing, you’re just… you’re sweet and very captivating.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

Gigi has placed her hand on Crystal’s forearm, and moved as close to her as she can within the confines of her car. Crystal can feel herself shaking now; the idea of kissing Gigi is no longer a mere thought, it’s a real possibility.

“Ireallywanttokissyou,” it’s out of Crystal’s mouth before she can stop herself and her nerve-driven impulses.

“What?” Gigi looks confused, clearly not having heard her.

“I really want -”

Crystal doesn’t allow herself to finish her sentence. She closes the distance between herself and Gigi and presses their lips together.

If Gigi is surprised or nervous, it doesn’t show. Her lips move against Crystal’s slowly and tenderly, and Gigi’s hands cup Crystal’s face. Her lips are soft and smooth and they taste like strawberries. Gigi lightly drags her tongue across Crystal’s bottom lip, and Crystal has to stifle a soft moan from escaping her lips. The kiss is electrifying and intense, and is made increasingly passionate when Gigi’s tongue meets Crystal’s. Crystal is on fire; she can feel the aftershocks of Gigi’s touch everywhere.

Crystal is the one to break the kiss, needing to relax herself and breathe. It feels surreal, the entire night has. Crystal finds her forehead pressed against Gigi’s, and all she can think is “wow”.

Crystal regains her composure, pulling away from the blonde, who looks at her with a smile.

“I wanted to do that all night, Crys.”

The simple sentence almost propels Crystal to capture Gigi’s lips in another kiss, but she forces herself to get out of the car.

“Good night, Gigi.”

“Call me?”

“Well, of course,” Crystal grins. “Thanks for picking me up, and thanks for the movie.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. Good night, Crys.”

Gigi drives off as soon as Crystal walks up her porch, waving goodbye.

She unlocks her door and walks inside, a smile still on her face and a head still filled with thoughts of Gigi.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #crygi #high school au #lesbian au #ms california #mik #concrit welcome #submission #s12

63 notes · View notes

kaypeace21 · 5 years

Text

Will created the Mindflayer (Theory revisited)

After, watching all 3 seasons I believe the upside down/mindflayer is not only an allegory for Will and El’s (cannon) ptsd/ and trauma but also (because of their powers), has become a physical manifestation (with a life of it’s own). I previously talked about how El made the upside down/demorgorgans and how Will created the mindflayer and demodogs (before s3). However I wanted to add more details to this analysis and focus on how the Mindflayer represented Will’s darker emotions and thoughts in s3 . So let’s get started.

The original title for Stranger things was “Montauk”- in reference to the Montauk Project. It was about experiments conducted on psychic children, where the scientists would “break” them psychologically to strengthen their powers and to program them. In one of the stories there was a boy named Duncan who could “open portals to other dimensions and periods of time” . However, one day “Duncan let loose a monster from his subconscious.”

This is where Stranger Things comes in... El, opened the portal and created the demorgorgans, which represented El’s fears. Joyce and Nancy called the demorgorgan a “man without a face”, or as El called them repeatedly “the bad men.” The bad men kill (using guns), while the demorgans are attracted to blood. However, the one time they went after someone who wasn’t bleeding- was when it chased after Will, another psychic child. Brenner even says about the demorgorgan “it’s calling to you for a reason”. And right before El goes to the sensory deprivation tank, Brenner gives her flowers (resembling the opened face of the demorgorgan which resembles a flower). In the Stranger things novel, Suspicious Minds, a psychic character named Alice, even says “ “Monsters...of course my brain has them.” As long as they stayed in there, everything would be all right. “Wouldn’t it?”

The upside down/ opening of the gate/demorgorgan is even described as something that grows and spreads, “like a cancer”. And something that will eventually kill her, if not confronted (and analogy to suicidal thoughts?)

In s1 Dusting even asks, Eleven “Do you have cancer?” In a literal sense no, but the buzzcut ( which makes people assume she has cancer) represents the abuse she’s been through. And if she doesn’t confront her trauma it will slowly eat away at her until it kills her . Or the physical manifestation of it will.

The name El is the name of a Canaanite God, which means “god of creation.” When El said in s1 “I’m the monster”, only for Mike to correct her and disagree. In a way they’re both right, it’s not her who is in control. But the monsters (who has a life of its own) represents her darker emotions and fears and is affected by her feelings- and this is why they were mirrored to each other visually.

So the fact that the Mindflayer shows up for the first time when Will is experiencing his “anniversary effect” relating to his ptsd, may not be a coincidence. Don’t you find it strange when Will’s dog died between s1-2, the demorgorgans become demo-dogs? And once again, the vines ( put inside Will in s1) and the shadow monster/Mindflayer - are also described as spreading, and we are told that it will kill Will. Will even says “ the more he spreads the more connected to him I feel.” And if I’m right about Will becoming number 12, it’s interesting to point out that 12 is a numeral symbol for “God of creation”, as well.

The other Drs/scientists are extremely callous and say they need to continue the burn (even if it kills Will). However, Dr Owens even says after this “You’re putting a bandaid on this.” Meaning they aren’t addressing the real problem- Will & El’s trauma.

And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if I’m right- this also implies Will was m***sted as a kid (probably by Lonnie), who always called him homophobic slurs. The demorogorgan represented ‘Brenner/ the bad-men’ to El. And the Mindflayer initially represented Lonnie, to Will . Will is even the first to call the Mindflayer a “he”, instead of an it- even though in d&d cannon Mindflayers are “sexless hermaphodites”.

Also,Will doesn’t initially call the Mindflayer a “he” but an “it”.And if you only take out certain pieces of dialogue between Joyce and Will, when they first talk about the mind flayer, where they only refer to it as an ‘it’ … and if you put [‘he/him’] pronouns there instead… then the rest of the discussion about the mind flayer literally sounds… questionable.

Will: “It all just went blank and then you were there”

Joyce: “Will I need you to tell me the truth.”

Will: “I am!”

Joyce: “But … But I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. So you have to talk to me. Please. No more secrets, okay? Okay.”

Will: “ [*It] came for me and … and I tried… I tried to make [*it] go away … but [*it] got me mom”. (*he, * him,* he)

Joyce: What does that mean?”

Will: “I felt [*it] everywhere. everywhere. I- I still feel [*it]. I just want this to be over!” (*him, *him)

Joyce: “LOOK AT ME! I Will never let anything bad happen to you ever again!”

And I’m not sure how seriously I should take the cannon spotify playlists. But, the cannon spotify character playlists (which netflix and spotify worked on and published together after s2) alluded to this on both Jonathan and Will’s playlists. And the only songs about their dads hint at this fact.

Jonathan’s Playlist- We’re happy family: “Eating refried beans (poverty). Gulpin’ down Thorazines (pills for a mood disorder). We ain’t got no friends (s2 ref). Our troubles never end. Daddy likes men. Daddy’s telling lies.”

Enter sandman: “Don’t forget my son. Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight, Exit light, Enter night. Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land. Something’s wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. Dreams of liars and of things that will bite, yeah. Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard. It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head.”

Will’s playlist- Creature comfort: “Some boys hate themselves spend their lives resenting their fathers…Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch... look in the mirror and wait for the feedback”

And if the vines and the shadow monster represent his dad the fact it enters violently through his mouth, and the way he describes the Mf first possessing him further reinforces this analogy. Especially since Billy/MF lays on top of his victims, and right before the monster puts a similar thing in their mouths says (To Heather) “Don’t be afraid. It’ll all be over soon. Just stay very still”, and (to El) “Don’t be afraid . It’ll all be over soon. Just try and stay... very still.” (May indicate Will might have have heard his dad say this to him, and thats why the Mf says it to his victims.)

The entry of the vine, even causes him to spit out a slug, as he looks back in the mirror (like in the song lyric).

The experience of the vine/slug probably brought back traumatic memories, not to mention his time in the upside down invented new ones. The mindflayer first appears during Will’s ptsd “anniversary effect”. And in s2 when Joyce asked about the mindflayer drawing, Will lies saying it’s for a story he’s writing . But maybe, unbeknownst to him... it wasn’t actually a lie ? The 1st time Will senses the Mf again in s3, is when he’s watching a movie about zombies (on a ‘date’ with Mike). And in s3, the monster the Mf creates is based “the thing” ( by merging zombies bodies together)... and we see Will writing the d&d story right next to this ‘The Thing’ poster. The light at it’s head, indicating this whole story may be Will’s idea all along.

So ‘the thing’, the zombies, defeating it with fire were all referenced to Will- and later showed to unfold in the Mf’s story. And even though d&d always foreshadows later events in the season, I find it interesting that the one time in the series we see Will write the d&d story... is when it matches MF’s plans. The shadow monster stayed in the real world, after the gate closed (and didn’t do anything for 6 months)? And specifically choses to attack/possess a guy named William who also was abused by his dad and called homophobic slurs (internalized hate perhaps)? And don’t you find it strange that the shadow monster only decides to come out now, in the summer (despite it not liking hot temperatures) when Will is at his lowest point emotionally? Well, it’s because the MF is based on Will’s darker emotions and thoughts.

S3 was the season that Will was feeling jealous over mileven, and probably coming more to terms with his sexuality - and this is when the mindflayer/shadow monster decides to strike. Whenever the Mf is close and Will touches his neck relates to his romantic feelings for Mike. 1st time it’s on one of their ‘movie dates’, 2nd time when Mike and El walk off together down the hill, 3rd time right after he smashed castle byers after Mike says “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, 4th time when Mike asks him to go away so he can talk to El in the hospital waiting area, and 5th time when Mike says El loves El.

And again it’s when Will smashes castle Byers that Will first says “He’s back”. Castle byers was built on a rainy night , the same day Will’s dad left, when Will was 5 (the same age he met Mike). And lonnie called him a “queer” and a “f*g” and forced him to do “normal things” like baseball to have him “be more of a man”. And then on a rainy night, after Mike says “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls”… what does Will destroy castle byers with? A bat.

Will drew up castle byers before creating it in the real world. And the fact Will has a baseball bat (despite not liking baseball) in Castle Byers, surrounded by things he loves: drawings, d&d, art supplies, a microscope, comics- just shows what an impact Lonnie’s problematic conditioning and abandonment had on him. He used a baseball bat to destroy something he loves -castle Byers, and symbolically he was trying to reject his feelings for Mike using Lonnie’s old tactics of fixing him. So regardless of what Lonnie did or didn’t do, the correlation between the MF and Lonnie is there. He smashes up castle Byers with a bat (thinking of Lonnie) and then he feels “more connected to him (the Mf)” again, and says ‘he (the Mf) is back’.

The reason we didn’t get Willel, was for a narrative reason. We are shown that Max and El don’t know each other. It’s implied that El almost never leaves the house and just spends her time kissing Mike. So Will never got to have the opportunity to get to know her either. And for Will his resentment of El isn’t simply based on the fact he loves Mike. He insults El calling her a “stupid-girl” just like how Robin said she hated Steve and his “stupid-hair” because the girl she liked , liked him- and of course a lot of that redirected hate isn’t mere jealousy, but projected internalized homophobia. I don’t think a straight person could ever really understand how much hate queer people initially have for themselves when initially figuring things out- so his redirected anger is more than simple jealousy, but just hate for himself. He even looks at a picture of Mike after this and says “so stupid”, 4 times , while at castle Byers.

But honestly, that’s nothing compared to the hate he has/ how he blames her for ruining his life! El might have saved him twice (and it might of been an accident/ dr Brenner who’s really to blame). But Will knows she opened the gate . So to him, he spent a week in a place with no sunlight, food, or breathable air , having to experience that vine, dying, getting ptsd, being ostracized by everyone at school and being called “zombie boy” and a “freak”- being possessed by the MF, getting burned alive, killing Bob (the closest thing to a real father figure) and all those men (making him a murderer), and strangling his mom.Because of her!

And then that’s when s3 starts to make a lot more sense. Will might not want anything bad to actually happen to El but he’s probably had these dark thoughts before. Will even says about the MF.

He says the real Mf is still in the upside down, but ‘the part that was still in him... was still in their world.’ And it flashes to El’s face as he says it. Essentially the Mf is motivated by his fictionalized story, thoughts/memories of Lonnie, and any dark intrusive thought Will has ever had about El , much to Will’s horror.

He said in s3 that “I’m not worried about me, mom. I’m worried about you.” So the fact that he strangled her and almost killed her in s2, probably haunts him to this day- and he might of thought, ‘wish I strangled her instead’. And who does Billy/Mf look at right before grabbing her throat, and who is the first reaction shot we see when he starts choking her - Will’s horrified expression!

Maybe the Mf thought El was the most important, and that Will was nothing ( despite all the foreshadowing indicating the Mf held special intentions for Will), because he feels like he’s nothing compared to El? Will even says in s2 it wanted to kill everyone, but him, but now it’s saying that to El only? Maybe because Will wanted her to experience having such an entity say it to her too, and experience the same fear and isolation it caused him? In s2, why did the Mf chase Will and possess him at the school, when El (at the same time) was at the school as well (if it was always after her)? It’s because the Mf’s motivations are linked to Will’s feelings/emotions.

He probably also thought, how would you like a slug crawling/invading your body, huh?And although it doesn’t go to her mouth (probably because he could never wish that on anyone- if it symbolizes what I think it does). She still has a similar experience. And everyone is worried/horrified but Will is the only one sobbing (probably because he thought of this happening to her before).

After this he doesn’t even help move the car, he just stays glued at El’s side as if trying to protect her. And interestingly, this is when El loses her powers. Will may have even thought. If she never had her powers, none of this would have ever happened! Or ‘you guys wouldn’t think she’s so great without her powers.” So did Will accidentally steal her powers?!!!! Maybe. Will has always been associated with bears (along with 3 other animal symbols that El also has). We see a zoom in shot of Will’s bear drawing right before the demorgorgan takes him from the upside down version of castle byers in s1. Bears symbolically represent “wisdom” like ‘Will the wise’ and were associated with the demorgorgan/upside down in s1 and 2 as well . Max and Nancy both compared demorrgorgans to bears- and Nancy and Jonathan used a bear-trap to capture the demorgorgan in s1. So when El tries to grab Will’s teddy bear (it was shown to be his in s1) with her powers. And Mike says “they’ll come back”. They might actually come back, because Will and EL’s relationship improves. Mike even tried to give El a golden bear as a gift (so maybe that signifies the giving back of her powers in s4 ?)

Will was always hinted to have powers from the very beginning, so it would be incredibly stupid to just drop this plot point, despite all the foreshadowing. In the 1st episode, Will wins Dustin’s xmen comic in a bet- and Dustin later asks the gang “Do you think Eleven was born with powers like the xmen?” And also before he was sent to the upside down his password for Castle Byers was ‘Rhadagast’ a wizard character from Lord of the Rings. And in the ST prequel novel “Suspicious Minds” the adult psychics were referenced to both the xmen and lord of the Rings characters. And in the comic, he keeps on saying ‘what would Will- the Wise do’ (his d&d wizard character). Also Dustin straight up called El a “wizard” in the last ep of s1, at Will’s bedside. Not to mention Mike in s2 called Will a “cleric” - and clerics get their powers from a god (cough the mindflayer), and in d&d the wiser the cleric the more powerful they are. And Will’s nickname is ‘Will the wise’? The fact that Will in s1 drew his character with lightning and fire powers- and the fact he barbecued 2 phones in s1 (just like El did to the radio at the school). In s1 was said he could “shadow walk” a wizard d&d power. The fact he could control lights and manipulate electronics to communicate to his mom from another dimension (and in s1 only El could do that). The fact he literally created a portal through the wall of his house (just like El did at the school in s2). And just the many other hints in s1! The fact that he drew himself in s2 with a crystal ball (which is associated with the powers of scrying and clairvoyance) before being possessed, but just so happen to have those abilities in s2. Dustin also said the only way to defeat the MF is an undead army and Will’s nickname is “zombie boy”. So frankly, his fight with the MF (who is still in the upside down) may not be over. And that new demorgagan in Russia might be a symbol of El’s grief over Hopper’s (perceived) death.

This would honestly, be the only explanation that would allow me to forgive the Duffers . Like you can steal this idea from me! Please! XD

#stranger things theory #will byers #byler #el hopper

999 notes · View notes

assassins-and-hidden-blades · 4 years

Text

The Predator and the Prey -- Part 2

A/N: (Early) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, everyone! Got a bit sucked into this to get back into the mood to write requests, and after this I feel a lot more inspired and out of the writing slump I’ve been suffering from for the past who-knows-how-many months. Hope you guys enjoy this as an early Christmas present, haha.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated; I’d love to know what you think!

Taglist: @marshmallow--3 (shoot an ask if you wanna be tagged!)

Part 1 HERE (With general synopsis)

Previously:

“There’s been another robbery.” You flashed the envelope his way. “You might have one too.”

“Let’s go and get it.”

-----------------------------------

You arrived with Jacob back at his rented flat, and he parked next to Evie’s dark blue beetle. Jacob scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Ugh, Evie’s taste in cars is something ’ll never understand.”

“At least it’s not pink, and it hasn’t got eyelashes on it.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

Jacob was the first one through the door. “Evie! We’re here!” he called up the stairs. He dropped his keys in the dish on the side and made his way to his bedroom. It was simple, but was still cosy and had more than enough room. He had a double bed -- not made-- and one of his walls was a soft shade of tangerine patterned with white birds in flight; they had a major resemblance to the one tattooed on his chest. He went to open his drawer, shielding its contents from you.

“Don’t worry; I won’t ask about what you’re hiding from me.”

All you got in response was an amused scoff.

As Jacob found the document, Evie came up behind you, drying her hair with a towel. “You both going into work, then?” she asked.

“I think we’re going to have to; we didn’t last night when the first one was reported. They’ll need more people to do the legwork.”

“Even though you were both stuck to your laptop screens filing reports the night before?”

“Especially because we were both stuck to our laptop screens the night before.”

“If you need anything, either of you, just give me a call.” She moved out of the room.

“Thanks, Evie.”

The door closed softly a few moments after.

You sat down on the bed that was littered with one or two shirts, sliding your finger under the lip of the envelope in your hands. Inside was a typewritten letter that was signed by Henry Green -- your Detective Chief Inspector and Evie’s partner. You opened it and began to read:

Inspector Y/N Y/L/N,

At 0234 hours on Sunday morning, we received reports of theft that had taken place. At first, it was written off as an unrelated event, but is now being filed as yet another heist linked with previous frauds that had stolen similar artefacts.

This is an urgent message. You and Inspector Jacob Frye are required to come to Scotland Yard ASAP, in order to converse our course of action.

As you know, there have already been seven artefacts that have already been looted from various locations; this makes it the eighth. We are only aware of these international crimes because of one reason.

When you arrive, ask for an urgent meeting with me. We’ll discuss it then.

Signed,

HenryGreen

Detective Chief Inspector (DIC), Henry Green

P.S -- You both are the best I have. I need you to head this operation with me. I don’t trust anyone else.

You checked the entirety of the letter to double check that you had read it thoroughly. Looking back at Jacob, you saw him writing notes in a notepad. “Do we need to change?”

He clicked his pen and stood up. “I wouldn’t bother. It’s a Sunday, after all.”

You smirked, agreeing with him. “We should probably go.” Picking up your essentials, you followed him down the stairs.

“Don’t wait up for us, Evie. We’ll probably be a while!”

“Noted!”

You both went back to Jacob’s car and set a new course for New Scotland Yard.

------

You entered your workplace with your rucksack over your shoulder, while Jacob parked his car outside. The receptionist looked up at the sound of the doors opening and greeted you with a plastered smile.

“Hi, Caroline. Inspector Frye and I have an urgent meeting with--”

“Chief Inspector Green? Of course, I’ll let him know. Take a seat over there for a minute, will you?”

You nodded with a smile, and somewhat reluctantly sat on the chairs beside the desk. Jacob came in moments after, pocketing his keys in his back pocket. He seemed somewhat surprised to see you waiting.

“You waiting for me?” He winked coyly, a corner of his lips upturning.

“Caroline’s on the phone to let Henry--”

“You two need to go to the meeting room on the third floor urgently.” Caroline had put the phone down without a care in the world, ready for her weekend shift to be over.

“Thanks, Caroline. Hope you can get home soon.” You and Jacob headed to the elevator.

“Didn’t mention that we’re not here for fun?” He decided to ask as the doors shut and elevator music began to hum in the background.

“I said it was urgent! She just seemed to want to be in charge.” You shrugged.

Jacob scoffed in amusement. “Uh-huh.”

The elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed quickly enough. The meeting room was at the end of the open plan floor full of scattered wooden desks, of which about a third were littered with papers and files of all kinds. Walking through the paperwork minefield, almost everyone greeted you both, ranging from surprised waves to casual nods; all of which you responded to identically.

Jacob reached the meeting room first, knocking twice and waiting for an affirmation before opening the door, which was labelled ‘Do Not Disturb’. Henry was sat there in a semi-casual outfit consisting of smart jeans and a white shirt, no doubt displeased at having to be brought in on a Sunday. He sat at the end of a long glass table, surrounded by loose paperwork and random documents that stretched almost out of his reach. A laptop was open and charging beside him. He looked up when the door closed and put his pen down. “Glad you could make it,” he began, reclining into the leather behind him.

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Jacob remarked sarcastically, slumping casually into the nearest chair.

“Shut the blinds.”

You looked out onto the rest of the floor and quickly shielded the room from view, much to the curiosity of people loitering around. After, you followed Jacob’s actions, with an extra kilogram of dignity. “What’s up, Henry?” You pulled out an average-sized notepad and a small pencil case, whereas Jacob pulled out a pocket notebook and a clicking pen from his pockets, resting his forearms on the table.

“This morning, at about half past two, something was stolen from the British Museum.” Henry took the charger out of his laptop and turned it around, showing the artefact. He stood up briefly to turn the light down. It was a folded gold fabric that had white patterns inscribed upon it. “This was labelled in the exhibit as the ‘Shroud of Eden’. That obviously has many connotations that make it quite precious, especially to the public. This piece is not at all common-- in fact, it’s the only one of its kind-- so it can have an extremely high street value.”

Your eyes drifted to movement in front of you. Jacob had lifted his legs up to rest his feet on the desk. His notebook was practically empty compared to yours, bar a few scribbled words. “How much is it worth?”

“Too much; possibly up to seventeen million-- most likely more.” Jacob wrote the figure down. “Continue.”

“The bottom line is that we need to retrieve this artefact. This was scheduled to be properly studied by the end of the week. Now that can’t happen and we have no idea what this thing does.”

“Who found it?” Jacob piped up again.

“A Lucy Thorne-- British curator, quite young, though.” Henry held up a picture of her. “It raised a few initial suspicions, but the head curator let it pass. Might be a good time to follow it up.”

Jacob wrote down another few words.

“How does any of this link internationally?” You asked your first question of the meeting, already two thirds of the way down the page.

“This is why.” Henry pressed on with the slideshow, showing images of the other artefacts that were stolen across the world. They all held a similar resemblance of colour and patterns. “These all originate from the same place. Whoever stole these items know something we don’t. This is why it’s urgent. We have no idea what these things are capable of, what they do, and what that means for everyone else on this godforsaken Earth.

“This isn’t just a matter of national security; it’s a matter of international safety.” Henry finished with a deep exhale through his nostrils, slowly moving to turn the lights on again.

“Our primary objective is to retrieve all eight artefacts. Our secondary objective is to put the people found guilty behind bars. If that’s too dangerous for you both, abort. Get the artefacts back to MI5 first, but if not, bring them back here. That is of paramount importance.”

“I have a plan.” Jacob put his feet down and leaned forward, arms back on the table. “We find this Lucy Thorne, and we interview her; take a statement, ask her a few questions-- find out what this thing does. We ask if she’s headed any investigations prior to working at the British Museum. We ask for the names of her superiors in her previous places of employment, maybe even search the place to find what else she might be hiding.” He gestured his point discreetly.

“We can’t do that without a warrant,” you remarked.

“But we know someone who can give us one…” Jacob looked to Henry.

“I trust you both; I’ll give you whatever you need, but there’s no time to waste. We have to do something now.”

You nodded. “I agree with Jacob.”

The corner of Jacob’s lips upturned. “Great. Let’s do--”

Before you both could stand up, there was a knock at the door. It opened almost immediately to unveil a very old rivalry. He stood tall, with his hair tied back with a red ribbon, dressed as if it was a weekday at the office.

“Good to see people working, even on a Sunday.” He adjusted his cuffs. “Mr Frye, Y/N.”

“Shay.”

#TPATP #the predator and the prey #Assassin's Creed #Modern!AU #detective!au #assassin's creed x reader #x reader #Jacob Frye #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed oneshot #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye imagine

57 notes · View notes

tsukiyaki · 4 years

Text

2020 LC: Session 1

Meeting dates: 1.29 & 2.14

exposed

adjective

not covered or hidden; visible.

in a vulnerable position or situation.

When the Lord said He’s taking me out of hiding this year, I didn’t realize the first person who would want to stop Him would be the same person who couldn’t wait for Him to follow through: me!

I came into this leadership cohort thinking it would equip me to help other people by refining my natural skillset. I came out of the first session immensely humbled and challenged. They clarified quickly that we’re not going to spend very much time on what we’re already good at, because that’s where most people choose to make themselves at home and stop growing. No, we’re going to dive deep into the things we’re naturally bad at, understand why we’re so bad at them, and then take tangible steps towards growth together, so every single person is held accountable on their journey from “accidental” to “intentional” leadership.

I realized that becoming a leader worth following comes at a hefty cost, and it feels like I’ve been making payments ever since our session last Wednesday. We could erect a tombstone in the conference room I was in: Here lie the remains of my arsenal of defense and offense mechanisms (e.g. pride, anger, contempt, complacency) that once kept me safe from the world and myself. 1994 (my first memories) -- ____.

Overview

GiANT, the company behind this entire cohort, seeks to provide a set of vocabulary through visual tools to create an objective, common language that will transform leadership cultures. The end goal is to transform anyone who is willing to do the work into a “100X leader,” someone whose leadership multiplies impact.

Because I’m not sure if I can just post all their material here, I will forgo sharing the actual visual models. But I’m more than happy to sit down in person with anyone who’s interested and discuss anything below that catches your attention!

Visual: Support challenge matrix

We each create a culture of leadership defined by varying levels of support vs. challenge. The 4 possible kinds of cultures in this model are as follows:

Protect: High support, low challenge -> Culture of entitlement and mistrust

Dominate: High challenge, low support -> Culture of fear and manipulation

Abdicate: Low support, low challenge -> Culture of apathy and low expectation

Liberate: High support, high challenge -> Culture of empowerment and opportunity

The purpose of this cohort is to help us become leaders who Liberate, able to calibrate our levels of support and challenge to others based on what they need to grow into their fullest potential. However naturally, we all lean towards either Protect or Dominate. And when we stay in either one of those for too long, we may swing to the other. Eventually, it’s likely we’ll burn out and land in Abdicate.

Visual: 5 circles of influence

Imagine 5 concentric circles. From inside out, you have Self -> Family -> Team -> Organization -> Community. These are the 5 circles of influence within each of our lives. The impact of the leadership culture we create will always trickle from the inside out, but not necessarily vice versa. This is why it’s essential and most effective for us to Liberate the Self if we want to become liberators in the rest of our circles too.

Takeaways

Although neither of these models were new to me, they gave me the framework I needed to describe the journey I’ve taken so far in each of my 5 circles of influence. I had more time to get a really clear idea of where my starting line is by answering the question, “What kind of leadership culture are you creating in each of the 5 circles of influence?”

Self: Because I dominate myself all the time, I swing to protect when other people challenge me. I am hard on myself, and in that hardness, I leave little room for grace and forgiveness of failures. As a result, I want to receive only support from others. I’m dependent on other people’s support, hoping that will fuse with the challenge I bring into liberation. But the result is instead a disastrous combination of me acting out of fear and manipulation to get their support, only to not truly trust what they have to say because I never had the guts to ask them for the full story. I’m too terrified of discovering the truth to ask for honest feedback. But this year, I finally feel ready to stop holding on to a facade of happiness and self-confidence. I want the real thing, which is why I’m on this journey. And I wouldn’t be here if not for the liberators who have shaped me and shaken me awake:

The Lord, our God, the greatest liberator of all time.

A for showing me it’s possible for another human being to uplift and love me the way God does, that even I can allow someone to challenge and push me without needing time to prepare for worst case scenarios because I trust it’s safe for me to fail around him. He spurs me on to consider it worth the cost to become someone who can do the same for others.

My last manager for helping me climb out of my pit of despair at work and turning 40 hours of my week into something life giving rather than soul sucking. She moved a mountain I thought was impossible to move, and now I am forgetting what impossible means.

Auntie C for showing me what it looks like to be a liberator as a wife, mom, and mentor.

Havilah Cunnington and Bob Goff for the example they’ve set with their lives. I can always return to their teachings, writings, and experiences when I need a reminder that the kind of life I want to live is possible, and I owe it to myself and the world to not settle for less.

Family: Historically, I have swapped back and forth between abdicate and dominate in this circle. Because of how I dominate myself, I brought the same harsh standards to my family. When I challenged them ineffectively for years and saw no change, it was easier to remove myself from the picture and do the bare minimum to get by. Because I failed to liberate myself, I didn’t feel like I could afford to extend high support to them. But in 2018, I had a life changing conversation with my parents. This year, I had another breakthrough with one of my brothers. In both situations, I stepped up as a liberate both myself and them, and that gave them the chance to do the same. Today, I no longer feel aggressively defensive around my family. But I think I lean into my natural tendency to protect instead because I’m often afraid of disrupting the hard-won peace we now have. Still, there are more moments than ever before when I see glimpses of liberation in our household.

Team: In this circle, there’s a fork in the road. When we’re talking church team, this might be the circle in which I most clearly liberate. It’s my passion, I believe in what we do, I feel incredibly high support and challenge from them, so I naturally can return the same. If we switch to my work team, I would say for most of my career, I’ve externally abdicated but internally dominated. But my last manager was such an incredible liberator to me in the year we had together, amongst humans, I credit her for single handedly turning my career around. Ironically, after having to switch managers recently, fear of the unfamiliar and hurt from having to leave a leader I felt so loyal to left me swinging to externally protect and internally dominate. I hypothesize that whenever I feel like I’ve lost something good in my life or I’m afraid I’ll lose something, I’m afraid to challenge so I protect, and where there’s a lack of goodness, I withdraw support and dominate.

Organization: I consistently and intentionally abdicate on this level regardless of what context I’m in because I have some inherent distrust of organizations that I still haven’t dissected yet. Maybe my mind just can’t wrap itself around the idea of an organization, and it won’t stop being repulsed by the idea of “the politics” that come with anything big enough to be called an organization. Because there are so many faces in an organization, and I don’t know and respect and trust every single one of them, the idea of taking ownership seems like too much trouble to be worth it. So I end up not even trying.

Community: I think more than half the time, I liberate. The rest, I still protect. If I protect for too long, I eventually snap and dominate. And if I do that for too long, it turns into my family situation where I give up and abdicate. This is the circle that’s most influenced by whether or not I’m liberating myself first. My community is the circle I draw from for support. They’re the ones I try to draw from to balance out the challenge I bring to myself. So when I’m healthy and not expecting them to fix me, I desire nothing more than to be a liberator to them. At my best, I really hone in on the gold in each of them individually and dream of the impact we can make collectively, and it’s my life’s passion to play my part in bringing it out of them. Relationships are everything to me, after all. It’s probably the best and worst thing about me.

Application

Proactively seek out people to keep me accountable at work over my mentality (e.g. make sure I’m doing things like responding to my emails within 24 hours and not procrastinating out of fear or apathy). - When will I start this? By the end of this week. - To whom am I accountable? My cohort’s core group members and A. - Next steps? Ask the 2 coworkers I picked to keep me accountable. Every time I want to procrastinate, say out loud why what I do matters to me, and declare that I am competent and equipped to do my job well.

Introduce my manager to the support challenge matrix. Ask for feedback on how I can be a better liberator to her and my team. Give her specific feedback on how she can support me better so that I can receive her challenge. - When will I start this? Last Wednesday - To whom am I accountable? A - Next steps? Report on Marco Polo to the cohort how this went and everything I learned from it. Talk to me privately if you want to know details!

Stop judging myself for having weaknesses and making mistakes. When I need help, admit it, and ask for help. - When will I start this? Immediately - To whom am I accountable? My accountability group - Next steps? Combat the judgment that comes into my head by speaking out loud the words of support I need to hear. Pray to figure out what I need, who can provide that for me, and then ask for it.

Using the support challenge matrix, ask 3 people who know me to varying degrees and in different contexts for feedback on how they see me, and what I can do to be a liberator to them. - When will I start this? By 2/12 - To whom am I accountable? RHW girls - Next steps? Figure out who the 3 people will be. Reach out to the first person to schedule a time.

#dominoes

1 note · View note