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#its like every damn time i sit down to do actual work i accomplish 1 (One) single productive thing and then
jade-parcels · 3 years
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The genshin men: fatherhood edition
With: Childe, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Venti, Albedo and Baizhu
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Childe:
Ajax loves kids and he’ll make that known early on in your relationship
Like...This man wants five or more kids but he’ll settle for four. He dreams of a big family, getting to surround himself with you and your kids every night for family dinners, everyone getting together for big birthday parties or reunions! That’s his dream life! Plus, in Snezhnaya, most families have more than two kids anyways
He will cry so hard when his babies are placed in his arms for the first time, I mean he’s a mess. Nose is running, eyes puffy, lost of sniffling lmao he is so excited to be a dad!! Don’t you dare tell the other Harbingers how much he cried...What do you mean you took a picture when he wasn’t looking??? Hey??!?!
With his obscene amount of mora, he’ll buy a huge house that will accommodate everyone. Anything you want will be purchased that day or within 48 hours, the same goes for the kids
But they’ll all learn to be thankful for what they have. They’ll learn to fight, fish and speak multiple languages. He has high expectations but let’s face it, he’ll be proud of them no matter what
You’re gonna have to be the one to put your foot down though because Ajax doesn’t enjoy being the ‘mean parent’, he has trouble saying no to the kiddos which can create some tension between you and your husband. He has good intentions of course!! He doesn’t wanna say no to those cute, freckled faces!!
Zhongli:
Zhongli is nervous about having kids because he’s immortal. So this will go one of two ways. 1. You have the baby and the baby ends up not being immortal (or you adopt a baby who is not immortal) Then he loses you both. OR 2. You have the baby and it inherits his immortality and becomes an adeptus. Now he and the baby will have to watch you die while they both life forever.
Either way...It hurts him to think about because he loves you!! He wants to have a family with you!! He wants to give you that perfect family life every human desires!! But he’s torn
You two will just have to figure it out.
Zhongli will be a strong, male figure for your kid(s) and he will instill that traditional kindness and respect into their behavior. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ always, always offer to help someone who needs it, do good deeds and you will feel accomplished, be the best you you can be, alway try your hardest because that’s all that matters
He will be sure that your kid(s) always feel loved ALWAYS. Zhongli will tell them stories, cook for them, take them to school, anything that needs to be done. When you’ve had a rough day, he’ll step in to take over for the night without being asked. He shows interest in everything your kid(s) like and he will do his damn best to display every piece of artwork they make or every pretty rock they find
He...will make a great dad :’)
Kaeya:
Ooooh brother, at first Kaeya says no he doesn’t want kids but...Then he starts thinking about it
He observes the happy families that walk around the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, how the kiddos smile and laugh with their parents. He’ll patrol in the afternoons, usually rounding the corner just in time to see the city’s kids leave school for the day, watching as they all run down the street to go home to their parents or play in the fountain together...Yeah, that really warms his heart
He’d want one or two kids, preferably two to avoid an only child being lonely. He isn’t on the best terms with Diluc but he can admit that they had a great childhood together, playing at the winery and running around as brothers do
Kaeya would be a very patient, understanding father. He doesn’t have much of a temper so he’d use the kids’ mistakes as learning opportunities instead of getting upset at them
He would be obsessed with the kids when they’re babies though oh man if you thought you had baby fever, he has it times ten! He loves holding the baby, watching with a twinkling eye as his baby grasps his thumb with its tiny hand... adorable
And if your kids inherited his eyes, his star shaped pupils that his ancestors passed down to him...He’s gonna get emotional
Everyone at the knights’ headquarters and the Angel’s Share will get sick of him REALLY fast cause he won’t stop bragging about how cute and smart his kids are lmao
Diluc:
Diluc would be such a soft dad don’t even get me started
He loves you so much of course he wants to have kids with you! Is that even a question?? He won’t be the one to bring it up unless he gets the feeling that you want kids but once you ask, he’ll agree so fast
He’ll be grateful to even have one kid with you :’) and he’ll be fine with however many kids YOU want. You want one kid? Perfect! You want four? No problem, the manor is big enough for ten! You...you want ten...? Time to hire some more maids then lmao
Diluc is a worry wart though, he’ll be afraid to hold the baby, feed it, bathe it, he’s terrified of hurting the baby or the baby suddenly hating him. So just help him out!! Cause when he gets comfortable with the baby, he’ll be in full dad mode
He isn’t embarrassed to walk around the manor, conducting business with a baby strapped to his chest!
Diluc is a very kind, gentle dad who will always offer helpful solutions to the kiddos’ problems. He’ll make sure all of their needs are met while also trying to avoid spoiling them... Too much... There will be a fair amount of spoiling...
His own father wasn’t too affectionate with him so that’s why he’ll be affectionate with his kids! Hugs and kisses when he tucks them in at night, big dad hugs when they get home from school, holding their hands in the busy streets of Mondstadt. His father was a great dad! He just aims to be better.
Xiao:
Like Zhongli, he worries about the mortality thing. Since he’s an Adeptus, his kid will certainly be an Adeptus too if you have kids together.
He also worries that his kid(s) will hate him. His duty is to kill demons which means that rain or shine, holidays, special occasions, day or night he’s gotta be ready to go slaughter demonic beings. So he’ll inevitably miss out on important stages in the kiddos’ lives
And admittedly... He’ll be scared of his kids lmao
They’re screaming, crying, barfing, pooping, laughing, screaming again...He can’t predict their behavior. It’s unsettling. All of that goes away one night when you sit him down and place your sleeping baby in his arms. His eyes go wide...And he just watches. This tiny, little baby...Feels no fear for him. It’s comforted by his presence. He almost cries...ALMOST
He’s still pretty much the same Xiao we all know and love but now he has a kid. “Slaying demons is what I do...Hey, go back inside and finish your dinner. Yes, even your vegetables. I don’t care that you don’t like them-...Fine. Don’t tell your mother, bring them to me. I’ll eat them” cute :)
He’s a protective dad and husband, he’d never let anyone or anything harm his beloved family
Venti:
Venti....does not want kids. He thinks they’re cute! He likes the idea of kids but he knows he wouldn’t enjoy actually having kids
You two already have so much fun together!! You don’t need a kid!! You guys have dogs!! Dogs are like kids! But they’re more independent and they’re cuter!
He’ll feel bad if you want kids and he doesn’t, he really will! But it’ll be nearly impossible to convince him cause he’s made his mind up :/
Venti’ll make it up to you somehow though, he’ll take you out more and show you all of the adventures you guys can have if there aren’t kids around
But for the sake of fatherhood headcanons, let’s pretend he gave in. Venti would be a very caring dad. He would cuddle the hell out of this kiddo and sing to them :’) the only problem is that Venti doesn’t like being tethered to one place for too long so he tends to take off and not come back for a few days... :(
Albedo:
Albedo wants kids mostly just to see what fatherhood would be like. He’s always been curious about what that part of his life would be like so why not have a kid
He’d be good with one kid, two at most cause after practically raising Klee, he knows how some kids can be and...He doesn’t have the mental capacity for more than two kids at a time lmao
He tries his best to show more emotion in his face. We all know he usually sits like this 😐 and goes ‘wow im so happy right now’. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was bored out of his mind right? So he’s gotta work on that. And when he musters up a smile for the baby and it smiles back at him????? Yeah...He’s gonna try to smile a lot more now
He definitely softens up once he becomes a dad, he shows emotion more than he used to and surprisingly, he takes time off of work. Shocker, I know! He decides that he’s been in the lab long enough and that he wants to be able to be there for these moments with you and his kid(s) :’) :’) He trusts Sucrose and Timaeus to take over for him for a couple hours
He keeps a journal for each kid and writes down the date and time they have their firsts or just interesting things they do ->
- 8/4: Baby sees and plays with a cat for the first time
- 9/5: Baby smacked me in the face and laughed so hard she threw up
-9/12: Baby learns that pulling my hair gets my attention. She now continues to do so
-10/15: Baby stays at Aunt Klee’s house for the first time
Baizhu:
Baizhu really loves kids, he works with them a lot and he considers Qiqi to be his daughter anyway but in terms of you guys having a kid together, with his condition he can probably only handle one kid running around
He will do his absolute best to be a good dad. Even if he feels like death, he’ll help change diapers, feed the baby, care for it when you need a break. He isn’t contagious so when you’re sleeping and he feels gross, he’ll sit back against the pillows with the baby on his chest, the three of you resting together (though he doesn’t fall asleep...that would be dangerous for the baby)
Baizhu already tends to nag at you about your health and lifestyle choices but now?? He’ll be a menace. He’ll be constantly evaluating your baby’s condition, checking to see if a certain food is giving them a rash or making sure their skin isn’t drying out. He’s hyper aware of your baby’s health and will be the one to treat them if they get sick
He’s a busy guy since he runs the pharmacy but he will always do his best to be present for your baby’s big milestones! And when your kid cries cause Baizhu’s medicine tastes like shit, he’ll do his best to not be disappointed in their reaction lmao
When you leave him alone with the baby, he’ll wrap a scarf around himself to tie the baby to his chest while he works and...he looks so cute :) dad baizhu <3 <3 <3 <3
Bonus points for him buying the baby toy medical equipment so he can get your kiddo interested in medicine :)
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lostinthewiind · 3 years
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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 2
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: heavy/shameless flirting, provocative actions, dirty talk, aggressive-ish sexual advances, female!reader
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous →Part 1
Next →Part 3
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“Too old for you, sweetheart.” 
Those words repeated in your head over and over again, pissing you off more than they probably should have. Even though Keishin had yet to explicitly tell you how old he was, you were already well aware that he was probably a good four or five years older than you at least. Him pointing out that simple fact was not what was grinding your gears—it was the way he had said it.
With that devilish smirk on his face, he had practically said it as if he were taunting you with it. The way he had shut down your question was like he was holding his superiority over you; he might as well have just laughed in your face and said, “You couldn’t have me even if you wanted to.”
It was awfully bold of him to assume something like that with his tone of voice, because you didn’t even want him . . . well, back then you hadn’t wanted him. Now was a different story, and even though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, the blatant ‘you can’t do it’ that screamed at you in his dark brown eyes was more than enough to make you change your perspective. 
So now your mission was to wrap Ukai Keishin around your finger just to prove that you could. 
At first, you hadn’t been sure how to go about accomplishing said mission because Keishin was rarely at the shop at all, which was how you landed the job in the first place—to take over for him. So, you really only had a short window at the beginning of the day when he was leaving and in the evening when he was coming home, but he was usually in too much of a rush or too exhausted to even look in your direction, let alone give you the time of day to make him fall for you.
Nevertheless, you used the few minutes you were graced with each day to the fullest. 
Leaning against the counter, your eyes kept flickering to the clock above the counter and to the door that led to the back room and, in turn, the stairs up to Keishin’s apartment. After working at the store for a few weeks by now, you had come to learn Mrs. Sakanoshita’s and Keishin’s schedules pretty well and knew that Keishin was due to come down the stairs, grumbling about how he was running late, any second now.
Right then, almost as if on cue, you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs and got ready for your morning routine. When the door opened and Keishin emerged with a granola bar stuffed in his mouth and a cup of coffee in hand, you were quick to greet him.
“Good morning.” You smiled as you perked up. 
“Goog morngnan,” his speech was mumbled over the entire granola bar in his mouth, but you caught the gist anyway. He barely paused to acknowledge your presence, his mind completely focused on getting out the door.
A smirk playing at the corners of your mouth, you leaned over the counter, cleavage on full display from your tank top and apron, which hung low on you, and gently grabbed his arm. “Will you be back later tonight or should I wait for you before locking up?” you asked.
Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. You asked him this every day, and every day he gave you the same answer. “Just leave when you’re done. I have keys to the store . . . just like I did yesterday . . . and the day before that.”
“Just checking.” You let go of him, but not before you let your fingertips ghost over his forearm. “Have a good day, Keishin.”
“Yeah, you too.” He never returned the sentiment by using your name as well, but you still persisted, hoping that he might change his mind one day. 
As he turned his back to you and headed out the door, you watched him leave. Although men who pretty much wore track suits exclusively were not usually your type, there was just something about the way Keishin’s ass looked in track pants that did it for you. As you wondered whether he was as nicely sculpted everywhere else—and whether it came from volleyball or if he worked out sometimes in secret—he had disappeared from sight. 
With your short-lived window of opportunity having come and gone, resulting in the same pathetic outcome as always, you sighed heavily and got back to work. As much as ogling the boss’ son was entertaining, you still wanted to keep your job because you did really like it, so you still had to actually get the job done. 
Like every other day, you spend your shift helping out customers, manning the front counter, and cleaning when cleaning needed to be done. The days were usually more or less the same, so by now you could predict when a heavy customer flow would hit—like around lunchtime and after work/school hours—and when the store would be dead, giving you time to take a break, eat some lunch, and get some chores done. 
Sometimes the days went by in the blink of an eye and sometimes they dragged on painfully slowly. Today was the former, probably because it was a Friday and the store tended to see a higher than normal customer rush in the afternoon when people stopped by on their way home to grab snacks and drinks for the weekend. 
Today, however, ended up being unusually busy, even for a Friday, and before you knew it, it was almost time for your shift to end and you still had quite a bit of shelves to restock. You were a little bummed about having to stay late on a Friday night, but you knew that if you went home you would just end up eating some leftovers in the fridge, taking a shower, and lying in bed, scrolling on your phone, until you passed out. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any exciting plans for the evening, so it wasn’t a hard decision to choose to stay later to get the work done instead of having to come in earlier on Saturday morning. 
With the radio playing in the background, like it always was in the evenings when the customer flow was practically nonexistent, you locked the front doors and worked through box after box, restocking the shelves and doing some of the remaining cleaning that you hadn’t been able to get done during the day.
Half an hour or so later, you heard a slight commotion from the front doors and instinctively looked up at the clock, noting the time. It was well past closing time by now, but this also wouldn’t be the first time you would have needed to deal with someone who couldn’t tell time and send them on their way empty-handed. 
Just as you stood up from where you were kneeling in front of one of the back shelves, the familiar sound of the front doors sliding open filled the store. Confused and a little on-edge, you approached the noise. Ever since your first day, you refused to be snuck up on again and always had your ears sharp and listening for people. 
Rounding the shelf, you spotted a figure with its back turned to you. However, you recognized that ass and poorly dyed blonde hair instantly and calmed down. It was only Keishin.
“You’re back late,” you commented. Sure, he always reminded you that he had a set of keys for the store, but he had never returned after you had locked up and actually had to use them before. 
When Keishin turned around after locking the doors behind himself, you noticed he was a little wobbly on his feet and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, so that’s why you’re late.” You stood back and gave him a wide birth as he slowly stumbled over to the counter and sat down on the stool behind it. 
Keishin narrowed his brown brows at you. “What’s that mean?” he inquired, his speech completely unaffected despite the fact that he was moving like he was tipsy, which he seemed to be.
“Oh, nothing.” You shrugged, brushing off his inquiry. “At least one of us had a good night.”
“Mmm . . . very good,” he sighed before folding his arms on the counter top and resting his head on them. 
You watched him for a minute or so, watching his back for rising and falling to prove he was still breathing when he went silent and still. “You should probably go to bed,” you told him, afraid he might pass out right there on the counter, leaving you to deal with his unconscious body. 
“Yeah . . .” He paused for a while before continuing. “Just rest here for a little bit first.”
“Okay.” You nodded slowly before turning back toward the shelves you had been stocking. “Well, I’ve still got some stuff to finish up so just call if you need anything.”
“Kay.”
Normally, you would be using this time to try to seduce him some more in whatever subtle way you could think of, but since he was pretty drunk, you decided against it for tonight. Besides, you were a little too exhausted to try anything anyway. Maybe this had all worked out for the best; a night off to just be in the same room as him and maybe you could gather some information to aid your pursuit that would resume the following day.
As the radio continued to play softly throughout the store and Keishin rested on the counter top, you quickly finished up stocking the shelves, noting that you would need to do some sweeping the next morning due to how dusty the tile was in the back corner. 
Standing up, you dusted off your hands and began patting your black pants off as you strolled back to the front. Surprisingly, Keishin was sitting up now, leaning back against the wall and typing something on his phone. In about twenty minutes, he seemed to have sobered up quite a bit.
“Damn, you bounce back fast,” you said, eyeing him and the nimble movements of his fingers while he typed. When he didn’t respond at first, you just went back to dusting off your pants.
“You missed a spot,” he finally spoke, his fingers ceasing movement while his eyes flickered over his phone at you.
Trying to inspect the back of your pants and failing miserably, you huffed. “Where?” You patted a few more spots, starting to wonder if you had actually missed a spot or if he was just messing with you.
“No, not there. On the side-” He tried to point out the spot he meant, but when you kept turning and twisting, it was impossible for him to pinpoint the area for you. “Oh, for fuck sake.” He set his phone down, stood up, and approached you. 
Right as he extended his hand to wipe away the smudge of dust on the side of your thigh, you turned again and he ended up brushed his hand across your ass. You both froze immediately, and when you looked up at him, you noticed a light dusting of pink across his cheeks.
Out of all the fruitless plans and days you had spent trying to get any reaction out of him, in the end, all it had taken was a few drinks on his part, an accidental encounter, and a misunderstanding to see any sort of progress.
“S-sorry,” he stuttered slightly, but you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol . . . or, at least, it wasn’t just from the alcohol. 
“It’s okay,” you told him, shrugging it off right away. It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you were slightly surprised to see such a reaction from him after something as trivial as an accidental butt touch. 
“I-I was trying to brush your thigh but you turned and then-”
You giggled. “Really, it’s okay.” You found his embarrassment endearing. “I think I’ll survive.”
“It’s not about that.” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Workplace harassment is taken pretty seriously these days. Not to mention . . . sexual harassment.”
This time your giggle turned into a full blown belly laugh. “Do you honestly think I’m going to report you for an accident like that?” you questioned. “Besides, who am I going to report you to? You and your mom own this place, right?”
Furrowing his brows, Keishin seemed pretty disgruntled about what had happened. “You’re sure you’re not upset about it?”
“You’re really bent out of shape over this, aren’t you?” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, how about we make it even?”
“What are you-”
Before he could finish his sentence, you had reached around and gently planted your hand on his ass. It took every ounce of self restraint you possessed not to give it a squeeze and test to see if it truly felt as great as it looked, but in the end you just left it at a light touch like he had done to you.
“Now we’re even,” you told him softly. “You gonna be okay now?”
Just like before, there was a faint blush on Keishin’s cheeks. But this time, in addition to the pink hue, there was a hungry look in his eyes, and you truly couldn’t tell if he was actually hungry after drinking so much or if he was hungry for something else . . . for you.
The two of you fell into silence for a few moments, breathing heavy and eyes locked. The way he was staring at you, you were ready for him to lunge at you at any second, but he never did. His hand twitched slightly by his side and his tongue ran over his bottom lip, but he never stepped closer.
Since this seemed like your best chance, you were forced to make the first move. If he didn’t want this, you would stop right away . . . but you were half convinced he did want this.
“You work so much . . . has it been a while since someone has touched you like this?” you asked in a hushed whisper, slowly removing your hand from his behind and moving your fingers to toy with the hem of his shirt. 
Keishin, whose face and neck were bright red at this point, didn’t answer. Instead, he swallowed hard and wrapped his hands around your arms. Then, he stepped backward, sat back down on the stool, and pulled you to stand between his legs. 
“Do you want me to touch you?” Your hands began travelling up under his shirt, nails lightly scratching over his lower stomach. “Say the word and I can make you feel good.”
Keishin’s lips parted and it looked like he was seconds away from practically begging for it, but before he did, something flashed in his eyes and he came to his senses. Running his hands down your arms, he snatched your wrists, pulled your hands out from under his shirt, and held you at arms-length. 
“I know that you think this is all fun and games, sweetheart, but you’re seriously biting off more than you can chew here,” he warned, eyes dark and serious.
You were taken aback. How had he done a 180 so quickly?  “How do you know how much I can fit in my mouth?” you teased, choosing your words carefully. “You haven’t even let me show you yet.”
He just shook his head. “26.”
You cocked a brow, unsure if you had heard him correctly or not. “What?”
“You asked me how old I was,” he elaborated. “I’m 26. You’re 18. That’s an eight year age gap. Eight years is a lot when you’re 18.”
You felt your blood begin to boil in your veins. “Why does everyone think they know what I can and cannot handle?”
“Why are you so adamant on refusing to acknowledge that people older than you might have some useful advice?” he said plainly. “I’ve been 18 before. I know what it’s like to feel like no one is taking you seriously, but making stupid choices in order to pass as independent is not the way to go about rectifying that situation”
Groaning in frustration, you pulled your hands out of his grasp. “I’m not trying to ‘pass as independent’. I am independent! I can make my own decisions and if I want to have meaningless sex with a 26-year-old I should be able to do that!”
“Why is this the hill you want to die on?” he inquired.
“Because it’s the only hill I have!” 
Untying your apron from around your waist, you yanked it over your head and threw it harshly onto the counter. After grabbing your belongings from the back room, you headed for the door, ready to be as far away from Keishin and the store as possible.
“Just my luck that I stumble across the only morally-responsible 26-year-old burnout in the fucking world,” you spat at him on your way past him to the front door. “I’m going home.”
“Okay, goodnight,” Keishin responded calmly, definitely completely sober by this point. He watched as you struggled with unlocking the front doors, waiting a reasonable about of time before offering his help. “You have to turn it the other way.”
Taking his advice without a word in response, you shot a glare at him over your shoulder as you pushed the doors open. You wanted to hurl one last insult his way, but by then, you were too emotionally exhausted and mentally flustered to think of anything appropriate . . . and if you were being honest with yourself, his words were sinking too deep for your liking and you needed to be away from him before you did something truly horrible . . .
. . . like admitting he might be right. 
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battybatzgirl · 3 years
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Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot
AO3
Summary: 
It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.
Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap
Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series
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Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.
Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.
The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.
Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.
Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.
So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.
And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.
Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.
But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.
Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.
“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”
“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.
Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.
She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.
He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”
That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.
Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.
“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”
Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”
“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”
“That sounds like doing nothing.”
“That’s because it is doing nothing.”
His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”
“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”
He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.
She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.
1.
Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.
The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.
“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.
“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”
“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.
“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.
Weird.
But entertaining!
Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"
King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”
“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”
King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”
As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”
That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.
Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.
“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.
Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”
“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”
“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.
She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.
2.
The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.
She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”
Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.
“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.
He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.
“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.
Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”
“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”
Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”
“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.
Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:
A kid.
“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.
A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”
The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”
“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.
“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”
“Uh, about that...”
Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.
“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”
“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”
The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”
3.
The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.
What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.
His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.
“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”
The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”
“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”
King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.
Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.
Ugh, she’s getting so soft.
4.
The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.
It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.
Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.
“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.
“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.
Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”
“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”
“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”
The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”
Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.
“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.
5.
The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.
The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.
Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.
Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.
Belos was looking for something.
And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.
Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.
Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.
It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.
He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.
Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.
Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.
Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.
So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.
She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.
“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”
Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.
“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”
“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”
Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”
Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”
“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”
The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.
“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.
“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”
“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”
“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.
Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”
Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.
She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.
“Eda?”
She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.
“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”
“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.
“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”
Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”
“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”
“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.
Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?
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A Statement Through Horror: BDG and YouTube
In his video announcing his departure from Polygon Bryan David Gilbert [BDG] stated, “I want to make things that one day people will make a show like unraveled about.” [Paraphrasing here]. Since that announcement he has made some of the most interesting and engaging comedy videos on the platform. On Bryan’s channel, there is a section called “bdg’s scaries” that contains three videos. The first how to make jorts was released April 27, 2019 and will not be part of this analysis, as we are focused on the other two videos. These two videos are Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss which was released on October 25, 2020 (two months before his final Unraveled video and departure from Polygon) and Teaching Jake about the Camcorder, Jan '97 which was posted March 3, 2021. If you have not seen these videos yet you should stop reading immediately and go watch them both (honestly everything on his channel is amazing, especially the surprisingly compelling and personal Dances Moving! series) before continuing to read this as I will be spoiling both of them. The position of YouTube celebrity has been the source of a good bit of commentary as short form online media has become more and more central in our culture. Bryan has created two videos that I feel do an excellent job of exploring the relationship between youtuber and audience. I should also point out that this is merely my interpretation of these videos and is in no way BDG’s intended message. I’ll start by going over the first video. Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss opens with BDG outside an apartment building, standing in front of a black car. BDG points up at one of the windows and says, “Three years ago I was living in that apartment right there. Third floor, leaky windows, cockroaches, the worst.” I do not know if the real life BDG actually lived in that building, but the 3 years timeframe does line up neatly with his beginning to work at Polygon. BDG continues to bad mouth his old apartment and mentions how he has turned it all around stating, “But just last week I paid off my very first Subaru Impreza. And I own my own house in Nebraska.” This radical change in life-style he credits to, “. . . [working] from home, [making] my own hours, and [being] my own boss. And you can do it too.” I think that it is interesting that BDG’s career up to that point mirrors that of his character, going from newly graduated content creator making small videos in his apartment to one of the most popular creators on Polygon. And all that being accomplished through work that many (rightly or wrongly) would not see as fitting into the mold of the traditional 9 to 5. The idea of making millions working from home, at your own pace, and with no boss is intrinsically tied to the mystique of the YouTube celebrity. Moving into BDG’s office he explains that he makes $20k a month working on spreadsheets. A massive spreadsheet appears behind him that is dated, 01.12.88 (nothing of note happened on January 12, 1988 and the only thing that happened on December 1, 1988 is a large cyclone that struck Bangladesh, January 12, 1888 is the day of the Schoolhouse Blizzard which struck the midwestern US and killed 235 people (remember this for later)) and is filled, seemingly randomly, with garbled nonsense symbols. Many of the cells are the same as other cells and there are empty cells scattered haphazardly throughout the spreadsheet. BDG explains that he got this strategy from Dorian Smiles. In exchange for working on these spreadsheets BDG receives $10k - $20k a month (an amount that lines up pretty damn well with the amount he should be getting through his Patreon page currently, I don’t know if this was true when the video was made though) from Dorian. Wanting to know where the money is coming from BDG asks his bank and they explain that he is wiring the money to himself from another account he has. He grows confused as to the nature of this work and the disproportionately large amount of money it brings in, explicitly mentioning his confusion as to how the money is coming from someone with, “. . . my name and my voice.” and sets about to find and confront Dorian Smiles. BDG sets off for Center Nebraska, which is close to where Dorian lives (a small town in the northeast corner of Nebraska). He states that Dorian’s address hasn’t existed since 1888 (that’s a familiar year isn’t it?) when it was supposedly condemned during an enormous blizzard and is, “. . . just woods now.” The video then transitions to BDG walking through dark woods while his narration talking up the Dorian Smiles program continues becoming increasingly broken. He comes across a figure sitting in the woods that is convulsing strangely, when he calls out to it the figure turns and is him (heretofore named Dorian). Dorian slowly puts his hands over his nose and mouth while staring at BDG at which point the narration cuts out. BDG copies Dorian and when Dorian removes his hands in a flourish, BDG does the same to reveal that he no longer has a mouth. The video quickly cuts back to BDG in his office talking about the program, he asks the viewer, “Why don’t you join me?” and then sits back and smiles while that line repeats without him moving his mouth. The most pressing mystery is who Dorian Smiles is. I think the most likely answer (and one I know I am not the progenitor of) is that Dorian is a reference to The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde, the story of a young man that has a portrait that ages and takes on the ravages of the debauched life its subject lives while Dorian himself does not. BDG would therefore be the unwitting recipient of that blessing, reaping massive rewards while his double, Dorian, lives in poverty and solitude. I like this explanation for Dorian, but I find it to be far more mechanical than thematic. On a metatextual level you could read that Dorian represents the character of BDG. The person that is in all of BDG’s videos, and the one with whom so much of the audience forms a parasocial relationship. In this lens the parallels with BDG’s own life make more sense. By this point in BDG’s career it is not difficult to imagine him feeling stifled creatively at work (I feel comfortable saying this given how soon after this video came out that he departed Polygon). His character had grown too large, potentially becoming alien to him, no longer reflecting the art he wanted to make and so he made a video about a distorted version of himself stealing his voice. In this way the video becomes a statement on his artistic integrity and his desire to test new boundaries and go in different directions. In hindsight, with the knowledge of his departure and then success after leaving Polygon, the video becomes almost heartwarming (if it weren’t terrifying) in the same way that a before and after picture of someone improving themselves can be. We will return to the Dorian Smiles system, but now we must move to the second video, Teaching Jake about the Camcorder, Jan '97. I’ll save you the blow by blow breakdown and aim for a quick summary instead. This video is a simple stationary shot of an old CRT tv. A VHS tape is inserted and a video of a man teaching his, evidently young, son how to use a camcorder plays. It is relatively wholesome and corny in that way that all home movies are and when it ends the tape rewinds and the segment plays again, this time with a few deviations. Over replays the father becomes aware of what is happening and begins trying to reason with Jake through the camcorder begging him to stop watching the tape and move on. The father is menaced by a large shadowy figure that does not speak or move when confronted. Eventually the father resorts to simply taking the camera and recording his own screams of pain. On the final rewind the father simply says, “Attaboy.” before calmly walking out the room and into the dark hallway, a doorway opens at the other end, filled with orange light, and the father walks through and down stairs. The final shot of the video is of the television, showing the hallway, as orange light begins to flicker in the background of the left side of the TV. The sound of the father descending the stairs transitions from the TV to diegetic and a shadow appears briefly in the light. On one level the video is clearly a statement about loss and about trauma. Jake is losing himself by watching these videos on repeat, trying in vain to relive a happier time. In that desperate desire to regain what was lost he is distorting it, making it into something it isn’t, hurting it. At the beginning the father says, “Never ever press the rewind button, otherwise you might record over a precious memory. We always keep the recording going forward . . .“ I think there is an additional, and more personal for BDG, reading however. The father is the modern character of BDG, and we, the audience, are Jake. He is pleading with us to leave the past behind and move on. This was only his 3rd video that he posted after leaving Polygon. It is a plea from him to leave the old character behind and stop trying to make one into the other. To stop obsessively comparing the new videos to the old. To let the future be the future and let the past be the past. He is telling us that his new work will not be like the old, that he has progressed past that and that now his viewers need to as well. The detachment and confusion of Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss has transformed into a desire to move forward. But he needed to ensure that his audience was ready to come with him, and so he made a video about loss and the dangers of sinking too far into it. I know that there are some of you that feel I am reading too much of what I assume to be BDG’s thoughts and emotions into these interpretations, and I am the first to admit that I might be. In no way am I trying to say these are the only interpretations of these videos or even that they are correct. I think there is so much more of an artist that they put into their work than they realise. I do not know the mind of BDG, only he does, but these videos made me feel that I had a glimpse into the feelings of a man whose work I admire. These videos are either longer or a drastically different tone to the material he has put on his own channel and as such they stood out to me. They felt different, and they seemed to ask for a different level of scrutiny. On some level maybe BDGs videos can not be divorced from the story of BDG as a content creator, the same as any modern internet semi-celebrity, or indeed any artist. I guess there was also a part of me that wanted to answer the call to action I heard when BDG left Polygon, to unravel his work. I hope in some small way I’ve been able to do that.
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iceshard1011 · 3 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders Additional Tags: Mild Language, great way to start off the tags, Movie Night, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, allusions to a messy breakup, they're all disney princes, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, because of course it is, also Post-Episode: Flirting with Social Anxiety, because i'm never getting over that ep, Virgil is a smitten bastard, someone get this boy reassurance and cuddles rq, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, (and an even better future boyfriend), Nicknames, Banter, look just because they're in love doesn't mean they're not gonna roast each other, Prinxieceit is just everyone needing love and then simultaneously getting that love, it's what they deserve, i stole the title from the lyrics of a song because i have no imagination Summary:
Virgil had wanted them to make up, just... not like this.
At least, that’s what he had thought.
It started with a goddamn Disney movie, because of course it did.
Well, it didn’t, but that was the best way to sum up... everything.
Virgil was curled up against the corner of the couch, knees pressed to his chest. He was as small as he could make himself, but it still felt like Janus was far too close, regardless of being on the other side of the living room. Patton was wrapped in his favourite blanket. Logan was perched, relaxed, beside Janus. Virgil didn’t know how he did it. All he had to do is look in that snake’s direction and his stomach would churn and his heart would start burning and —
Growling silently at himself, Virgil focused on the television: on Ana’s harmonic voice and Hans’ bright expression.
It was then, of all times, that Roman started to sing.
Quiet at first, hardly a hum muffled by barely parted lips. But it was there, and it was more music than the mindscape had heard in weeks.
Patton didn’t react like Virgil knew he truly wanted to (with assumedly deafening squeals and clapping), but he watched the moral side just barely contain excited vibrations. Virgil struggled to hide a smile. He didn’t miss Logan’s subtle appraising glance in the prince’s direction, either.
Then another voice joined in, and Virgil’s beaming heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach.
He tried not to glare at Janus. He didn’t want to cause a scene. It was movie night and it had been more peaceful than most previous tense, uncomfortably quiet nights. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin it for everyone. (For Roman, he wouldn’t admit.)
But Roman hesitated the moment Janus accompanied him, and Virgil could just see the expressions flashing through his face and hear the thoughts to accompany them, despite only seeing the back of his tussle-haired head. He’s already seen it all enough times.
But then he started again and Virgil wondered if this was what mental whiplash felt like.
He sat there, heart in his throat, as he listened to the pair duet to a Disney song about deception and naivety and toxic romance with all the connection and love that they never had.
The gradually widening hole in Virgil’s chest gaped considerably when Janus stood and offered Roman a hand, still singing to Hans’ voice. Virgil had to bite onto a whimper to keep it from leaving his mouth when Roman accepted.
Patton giggled, delighted, as Janus twirled the two of them around the living room, both harmonising like angelic love-struck Disney princes, their voices rising above those of the movie. Even Logan looked amused as he watched.
Virgil felt nothing but sinking dread.
 It had been nearly midnight when Roman had stormed into Virgil’s room, a panicked, emotional mess of a broken heart, and collapsed on the bed beside Virgil. It had been a few weeks since the ‘wedding fiasco’ and Virgil was already sick of it.
Not Roman, to clarify. Never, ever Roman.
But the angst. The tense dinners and awkward conversations. The sneaking glances Janus would shoot at Roman, and the way Roman avoided every single look.
The way Roman’s eyes had stopped glittering. The way he never sang. The way he trembled in Virgil’s grip like a leaf in a storm, like a tortured puppy waiting for another punishment to fall when he least expected.
The way Roman still cried, still begged for things that Virgil couldn’t give him.
The way Janus had taken something as precious as Roman’s unyielding, unconditional trust and loyalty and love, and broken it into a million pieces without ever considering its value.
The way he could do nothing but hide his own tears in ruffled hair and wait for the wails to stop.
“I’m sorry,” he could only whisper on deaf ears, the exhausted prince long passed out in his arms, and, “I’m here. I have you.”
Never it’s okay, or, you’ll be alright. Virgil wasn’t about to echo sentiments that had no guarantee to be true.
He wasn’t sinking to that level.
 “I need to apologise,” Roman had said, his voice cutting through the peaceful silence of the room. Sudden, but not abrupt. He was hardly so dramatic and shocking anymore. Virgil had no idea he could ever miss it so much.
He looked up from his sketch journal and titled his head.
Roman had stopped colouring the printed sheets of calming exercises and was now staring at the ground, turning the green pencil over between his fingers. There was a determined light in his eyes, something that Virgil hadn’t seen in so long. One that he didn’t dare extinguish now.
“Taking the first step would... That would be brave, right?” He looked up at Virgil, still so damn trusting, too damn dependent. “I would be brave again.”
You’ve always been brave, Virgil didn’t say.
Roman deflated at his silence and it felt like a stab to the gut. “M-maybe.... maybe not.”
“No,” Virgil blurted, and Roman looked like Virgil had just slapped him. He stumbled over himself to continue. “I mean — I meant no, wait, because — because that’s a good idea.”
“You really think so?” Roman asked tremulously. Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Yes,” he said, but it sounded like a lie. Why did it sound like a lie? “Yeah, Princey. Of course.”
Roman’s face fell from its hopeful expression, and Virgil wanted to scream and yell. Wanted to take Roman’s face in his hands and promise that nothing was his fault and he was perfect and fine and Virgil loved every single part of him and Roman never had to worry about anything ever.
“Are you certain?” Roman asked, and Virgil hated how uncertain he was, how uncertain he had never been until these past weeks. Months.
“I think making the first move is the bravest thing anyone could choose to do,” Virgil told him, and it was the most honest thing he had ever said.
“Really?” Roman asked again. This time his voice cracked. Virgil’s gut roiled, and he decided that he had had enough.
He moved forward on his knees, ignoring Roman’s squeak of surprise when he was gripped by the shoulders, and straightened to glower fiercely down at the prince.
“If you think that is what’s best, then you do it,” he said without room for argument. “You don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You don’t let anyone convince you out of it. If it screws up, fine, try something else. If it works, then great, well done, mission accomplished. Move on to the next step. You are the only one with control over your life, and your actions, and the thoughts going through your head. Do you understand?”
Roman honestly looked a little awestruck, and when Virgil’s own actions caught up with  him,  he had to fight the rising blush. He shook Roman, if only to stop him from looking like that.
“Understand, Princey?” he prompted.
Roman then shook himself and blinked rapidly.
Please don’t cry, Virgil thought.
But Roman smiled. A huge, trembling, genuine smile, one Virgil hadn’t seen in so long that he had lost track of the days, and Virgil felt as if he might pass out.
“I understand,” Roman said, and Virgil barely had time to relax before the prince ducked forward, and between Roman coming towards him and then shooting out of the room calling thanks over his shoulder, Virgil’s mind malfunctioned.
It took a moment of silently sitting in the middle of the floor, probably looking quite pathetic, before Virgil slowly raised a cold hand to the flaming skin of his cheek.
He blinked, and his brain caught up enough to register the lips that had been pressed there.
Holy shit, Virgil thought. “Holy shit.”
Roman probably hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. Had he even realised what he’d just done to Virgil? How much Virgil was not going to get over this for a  very long time?
He didn’t want to think about it — in fact, he was in favour of drowning out all his thoughts for the rest of time — but it still grew, unbidden, in the back of his mind.
Did he mean it?
 Virgil hated Janus.
Of course he did. Janus was manipulative and smug and chose lies over truth like a suffocating man would choose oxygen over water. That wasn’t his best metaphor, but metaphors weren’t Virgil’s thing.
The point  was  that Janus had never cared about anyone other than himself. He kept people at arm’s length like his life depended on it, and he never did anything that wouldn’t benefit him.
Virgil hated that. He struggled with relationships to begin with — any kind of relationships.
He wouldn’t admit it, and he didn’t even know it at first, but he needed support in a relationship — as anyone would. He needed someone to reach out and allow him to meet them halfway. He wasn’t built to continuously reach out and plead for the other half of a relationship to work with him. He needed that first step to be taken first.
It was why he was so perplexed by Patton at first. It was why the light sides had baffled him every time he was with them.
It was why their family had lasted so long.
And also why his and Janus’ hadn’t.
He loved Patton and Logan and Thomas. He loved Roman, more than he should. And he hated Janus.
Of course he did.
He had to.
 There was never a direct conversation.
Roman and Janus never went off by themselves and never came back with an obvious change of heart. It was still tense for a long while, and Virgil still didn’t enjoy dinners, and didn’t attend movie nights. Neither did Roman, apparently, as multiple times Virgil ran into him in the hallway, trying silently not to attract attention.
Virgil never asked about it, but he knew. It was obvious.
But there were little things.
When Janus made morning beverages for everyone, he included a sparkling gold-and-red mug on the tray, and Virgil had caught the moment he quietly asked Patton, thinking they were alone, how Roman liked his coffee.
When Roman roughly sketched a tableau of the group when he thought no one was paying attention (that would later become an oil painting that was kept in a quiet corner of his bedroom, no matter how gorgeous Virgil insisted it was) Janus and Remus were both included, despite the latter having been absent in the time of the planning stage. And when Virgil had peered closely at the final product, he’d silently marveled at the gentle expression on Janus’ face, serene and empathic and gazing at the others with a softness that Virgil hardly ever saw so openly. (How had Roman been able to capture it so perfectly?) So different compared to the ‘reptilian rapscallion’ he’d been depicted as weeks ago.
(His scales had been iridescent.)
So, yeah. It didn’t start with the month’s first fully attended movie night. It started with so much more before that that Virgil didn’t want to think about.
He trapped the growling scream in his throat, tugged at his hair like he could tug the vicious images from his head.
He didn’t want to think about Janus twirling Roman around the living room, treating him as if he were a prince in the movie. He didn’t want to think about Janus’ confidence and how Virgil himself could never do that. He didn’t want to think about Roman’s smile when he thought about talking to Janus. He didn’t want to think about flushed faces and breathless laughs and eyes so goddamn lovestruck it was sickening. He didn’t want to think about mismatched eyes glittering more than he had ever seen in so long and flaming scales and —
NO! No, no, no!
Virgil buried his face into his pillow.
He didn’t want to think.
The pillow didn’t do much to suffocate his thoughts.
His throat was parched, though. Sobbing and coughing and wailing into your mattress to muffle screams would do such a thing.
God, he needed a drink.
Water. Water. He needed water.
After pulling himself from the bed, he trudged through the hall and down the stairs, no doubt looking like he had just woken up. It was dark, and the lights were off. Everyone else must have followed suit after Virgil had gone upstairs.
Stinging eyes half-closed, he fumbled with the kitchen cabinets and clawed out a glass for himself.
It was when he turned around to the sink, now facing the living room, that he noticed he wasn’t alone.
Two pairs of wide, horrified eyes were locked on him. Janus was without his hat and cape. His always formally presented shirt was crinkled, his hair tousled from broad fingers carding through it. Roman had discarded his prince attire, and he looked somehow small in his black undershirt. His redden lips were the same colour as his cheeks. Virgil felt sick. Roman didn’t own red lipstick.
They had separated long before Virgil had seen them. It didn’t make much of a difference.
The sound of the glass dropping in the sink startled Virgil from being frozen.
Janus’ mouth moved as he spoke but Virgil didn’t hear what he said as he took a step backwards. His words only caught up to Virgil a few seconds later when he was already backing up towards the other end of the kitchen.
“Virgil, darling —”
“No,” Virgil said, even though oddly nothing audible came out. He took another step back and his back bumped against the counter.
“Virgil, we —”
“Stop,” Virgil finally said out loud. Janus stopped. “Just — get out.” His voice cracked. No, worse: his whisper cracked. It kind of took away from the way Virgil wanted to emphasize just how pissed he was right now.
“Virgil —”
“Shut up,” Virgil snapped at him, but his voice still wasn’t above a rasp. “Get out.”
“Listen to me, shadow —”
“NO!” Virgil roared. Janus didn’t flinch, but behind him, Roman quailed backwards. “I don’t care! Don’t fucking try to  lie  yourself out of the fact that I walked in on —” He cut off there, because he almost said something that he would never be able to take back. “Just get out.”
“Virge,” Roman said placatingly, because he was a moron who didn’t listen even when he really should, “I know you’re angry —”
“He’s not angry,” Janus interjected because he was an  asshole  who liked making Virgil’s life absolute hell. He glared at the ground, fuming. He couldn’t look up. If he looked up...
He stood, once again frozen, head bowed like a prisoner on death row. Roman was silent. Beyond Janus’ burning gaze pinning him to the spot, Virgil could sense the prince looking between the two of them, concerned.
Janus’ voice came as a crushing blow, the final landing hit before everything ended.
“He’s heartbroken.”
The penny dropped, and it was still once more.
Virgil trembled under the weight of the silence. He glared at the droplets of salty water collecting on the tiles in front of his socks.
“What?” Roman’s voice wasn’t above a whisper.
A hand, cool and smooth and just barely quivering — one that couldn’t be Janus because he always wore his gloves and he was never so vulnerable around someone like Virgil — came to press against Virgil’s cheek, careful fingers trailing his jaw.
Virgil found that he was rooted to the spot. “Don’t. You can’t be any different now then you were before.”
“I’ve grown since then,” Janus whispered. His hand burned. “We both have. You know that.”
Virgil closed his eyes and more tears trailed down his face.
“How could you?” he asked, opening his eyes to glare up at Janus. “How could you ever change?”
The look on Janus’ face was indescribable apart from open. “You know how,” he murmured, and cold pads brushed against Virgil’s lip. “You know.”
A sigh shook itself from Virgil, and he slumped.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, and it was a plea. Virgil didn’t beg, but he was.
It wasn’t a retort. It was a request.
Virgil didn’t ask for things. He couldn’t. He was too self-conscious and hyper aware of being ungrateful or demanding. Too scared of being rejected. So he never asked for anything. He just... didn’t.
But he was.
“I would never,” Janus whispered, and Virgil wanted to be furious, because that  was  a lie. Janus had lied so many times. He always lied.
He lied about simple things. He lied to Thomas. He lied about what he wanted. He made things difficult with the deceit that spewed from his mouth.
He wasn’t talking about simple things.
Still shaking, Virgil closed his eyes. He lifted his chin and tilted his head.
He waited.
And cool lips, half rough and scratchy, half soft, moved themselves against Virgil’s.
It didn’t feel the same as Virgil remembered. It tasted like hesitance and request and trust. It was also apparently mushing Virgil’s brain.
He didn’t realise how slack his shoulders had gotten until Janus pulled back and Virgil had to take a breath. He stared up at the... snake. He didn’t feel betrayed. Or horrified. Or even a little disgusted. He wanted Janus to keep staring at him. He wanted to be kissed like that again.
He looked down at where Janus had taken his hands. In the corner of his eye, he could see Janus looking at him with something akin to anxiety, but Virgil kept his gaze on their clasped hands. He clenched them tighter, and felt Janus relax.
He felt another pair of eyes on him and looked up.
Roman was fidgeting. He was looking between Janus and Virgil with a look that Virgil hadn’t seen... ever. He hadn’t even looked at Nico with so much adoration and love and like he would do literally anything in the world for the subjects of his attention. It made Virgil feel slightly breathless.
But he was playing with his hands, a nervous gesture Virgil was familiar with.
Janus didn’t give Virgil a chance to make a move.
“Come here, my prince,” he said, voice still soft. He reached out. “We have room.”
Roman looked moments away for throwing himself at them, but he held back. He looked at Virgil, and the anxious side was startled to see his eyes shining with fighting tears.
And goddamn it if it was the cheesiest thing he had ever said but fuck if his chest didn’t fill with so much warmth it felt like he was going to explode.
“C’mon, Ro,” he said with a smile. He couldn’t smirk. Somehow his face wasn’t letting him. “Not gonna keep me waiting, are you?”
Meeting the challenge without an ounce of hesitation, Roman lunged for him, and Virgil surprised himself by taking his own pounce right into the prince’s arms and crushing their lips together.
It was more than Janus’ kiss, which was still so full of fear and hurt and guilt and the want to be something once more and the need for closure. Still so freshly wounded.
This was different. This was fiery and passionate and made Virgil turn pliant.
“I want you,” Roman whispered when they pulled back. “I want...”
Virgil tilted his head. “Go on,” he murmured.
“I want both of you,” Roman blurted, looking between Janus and Virgil. “Is... Is that okay?”
Virgil cupped the prince’s chin in his hands. He glanced back at Janus, who immediately took the hint and slid over to them, one hand moving to the back of Virgil’s neck and the other to Roman’s hair. Virgil watched in amusement as Roman near-melted beneath the attention, nearly purring in pleasure. That was a trick he would have to try himself at some point.
“I don’t know about either of you,” Janus purred.
“Liar.” Virgil smirked.
“But I would consider a further discussion about this remarkably important to a growing relationship,” Janus finished.
“Well, yes, but —” Roman cut himself off, nodding. “Yes. Alright. That makes sense.”
“Don’t do that, Princey,” Virgil told him, headbutting his chin gently.
“Go on, darling,” Janus said.
Roman still blushed, but tentatively asked, “Can we... just stay like this for tonight?”
“A huddle in the middle of the kitchen?” Janus asked with raised eyebrows, and Roman’s blush deepened.
“You stale croissant,” Virgil said, smacking Janus’ shoulder, “don’t bully him.”
“It’s alright,” Roman assured with a smile. A real one. “But I do have to ask where that nickname came from.”
“You’re on thin fucking ice too, Your Highness,” Virgil snapped, pointing a threatening finger in his face.
“We just made out, dearheart,” Roman said with a smug grin, swooping in to peck the comeback right out of Virgil’s lips. “You can act upset tomorrow.”
Smirking, Janus fidgeted absentmindedly with the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie.
“Now,” he said, capturing the two bickering... boyfriends? Were they — Was that too far? “Your room, my prince?”
Roman looked tired, but he still lit up. “Oh, yes,” he breathed, moving to clutch Janus and Virgil’s hands between his own. “You’ll love it. I’ve got a bed big enough to fit all of us, and it’s not too obtrusive and I can use the fairy lights and —”
“Alright, darling,” Janus said, kissing him on the cheek. “Show us when we get there.”
Roman, beaming, turned and guided them up the stairs.
Janus made to follow but hesitated at the last minute, glancing back at Virgil. His eyes weren’t guarded as they normally would be, and it made Virgil feel vulnerable in turn. Janus opened and closed his mouth but didn’t seem able to speak.
Virgil took Janus’ hand in his. “Not backing out now, are you?”
Janus looked fiercely affronted. “Oh, definitely,” he said with an attitude of someone who had just been told it didn’t count if you got slapped by someone with their left hand even though they’re right-handed. And Virgil, despite everything, laughed.
It was only when crawling under cool, heavy red blankets that Virgil realised he had forgotten to have that drink of water.
He watched Janus trail a path down Roman’s features, smirking at the prince’s ticklish giggles, their bright eyes reflecting the soft glow of the dim, glittering lights overhead. At their three-way still-clasped hands lying atop the blankets. He smiled.
No matter. His chest didn’t feel so tight anymore.
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See You in New York (part four)
A/N: WOAH ARE WE ALL CURRENTLY IN THE SAME HALLUCINATION OR DID I ACTUALLY UPDATE THIS STORY?! The first might seem more feasible, actually, but strangely enough its the latter. I’m sorry this story went on such a long hiatus and I am very happy to have it back on track...sort of...Anyway. In case you forgot because it’s been eleventy five years, you and Logan are on the ferry on your way to show him the sights from Liberty Island. Oh, yeah...and you have some news to share with him before that part of your day is up. How will he take it? 
Word Count: 5,710 
*parts 1-3 and the intro to this series Services No Longer Required are available on my masterlist under the Logan Delos tab* 
Slow down, Delos. A few months ago, the warning would have come from you, reminding him not to get too drunk or too handsy, not to cause a scene. He would have rolled his eyes and groaned, displaying his distaste for censoring his behavior. But for once in his life, the warning came from himself. For once, Logan refrained from flinging himself headlong into the abyss of whatever new vice had taken hold, tried instead to take his time. For once, Logan resolved to take one step at a time, to be in every moment instead of skipping several steps ahead of himself. It’s worth it, she’s… He turned towards you. She’s different. I’m different because of her. With your hand on his thigh and your shoulder leaning into his, you anchored him in that resolve. He pushed away thoughts of pushing you up against the railing of the ferry and kissing you so indecently that even New Yorkers would stare. There’ll be time for that later, he told himself as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before smiling up at him. Plenty of time.
As the ferry cut through the gray blue water of the Hudson leaving white caps in its wake, you promised him the most amazing view of the city skyline. “It’s a good day for this, Logan. The sky is clear, so you’ll be able to see everything.” 
He smiled, nodding. But even if the sky was full of clouds, even if rain fell in sheets to force the two of you to take cover, even if the wind whipped the water into choppy waves, it would still be a good day for him because he was spending it with you. The sun reflecting off the rippling surface made the whole river seem to sparkle and shine. It made the chipped paint and weathered, dated appearance of the ferry feel fresh and new, and Logan couldn’t help but compare himself to the old boat. I bet it’s seen some rocky waters, too. He shifted his eyes to the side, looking down at you from behind his sunglasses as his thumb moved slowly over the skin of your far shoulder. No more rocky waves for me. 
There was still a lot about him and his past that you didn’t know, but the things that he had shared with you hadn’t scared you off, and he had no intention of repeating old mistakes or falling back into bad habits. He knew his limitations and he knew how to keep himself in check. In truth, Logan had been doing just fine before he met you. Finding stability on his own and regaining the control he’d lost over his company had defied nearly everyone’s expectations of him, and while when he was younger he found the lack of confidence from others to be discouraging, he almost welcomed the chance to prove people wrong now. He didn’t need anyone to quantify his happiness or to keep him in line. Getting this chance to have you in his life would simply give him the opportunity to share that happiness with someone else, someone who did believe in him, who saw him and didn’t flinch at the truth. 
But that doesn’t mean I have to rush it. This is… He inhaled a deep breath through his nose as he felt you give a light squeeze on his thigh, calling his attention to the way that the sunlight was hitting the glass panes that made up the flame at the top of Lady Liberty’s torch. He glanced up at where you were pointing, the golden yellow beams refracting to make it look like real fire. But he was quickly drawn back down to you, to the way that that same light was igniting your eyes. To him it was just as stunning as the glass. Letting out the breath he’d held in his chest, he continued stroking his fingertips absently down over your bicep, slipping his pinky beneath the strap of your dress. We have time. 
When Logan first realized that he had developed feelings for you, he tried to push them away. He was in the middle of recovering his public image from scandalous, albeit false, accusations regarding his behavior with female employees and coworkers, and so he knew that starting something with the very woman who had been brought in to clean up that mess was that last thing that he should be doing. For weeks he ignored the fact that every time you passed his office and flashed a smile or a polite wave, it made his pulse quicken. He shook off the fact that your laugh as the two of you ate lunch together was becoming one of his favorite sounds, even as he’d find himself storing up things to say to you in hopes that he’d get to hear it. He overlooked all of the signs that he was falling for the one person who was supposed to be off limits. And it didn’t work. Grinning to himself, he recalled the way it felt to bet high and go all in with you at the end of your contract, taking a chance and asking you to take one on him. Best way I’ve ever closed out a contract.
But even though things had ended almost exactly as he’d wanted them to, he’d felt rushed for time. He’d known that he had exactly one chance to show you that he was interested, and needing to wait for that one chance until the very last day of your contract had only made it feel more desperate and dire. But now there’s no expiration date, no last day. He felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sunlight or the statue’s torch and everything to do with your hand on his leg and the chance you’d given him. Now we can...it can be normal. I can take my time. 
Having to wait the two weeks between dropping you off at LAX and seeing you again at LGA had been tough. Logan was used to instant gratification. When there was something he wanted or needed he didn’t wait, he found a way to have it now. In some aspects of his life it had served him well. In business, it made him a harsh negotiator, and in his personal life it gave him a sense of accomplishment to be able to provide for himself at such a high level. It also meant that he dove head first into pools he would have noticed were too shallow had he only been more careful. It was, he knew, a trait that made him more prone than others to fall victim to addiction, and it was something he worked to balance within himself daily. Normally, a two week delay between the moment that he knew he wanted you and the moment that he actually got to have you would have been a deal breaker. Even if he’d looked past the waiting, the fact that this was about as long distance a relationship as two Americans could possibly have would have doomed it from the get go. Different time zones? All those miles? So many closer, more convenient options? Normally, none of this would have made any sense to him. 
But with you, it simply did. Everything with you had been different from the very start. You’d taken the time to get to know him, the real him, not the Logan Delos in the papers, not the one in the boardroom or the ballroom or the bedroom. Him. You knew useless things about him, like which condiments he used on what food items, or that he only used yellow highlighters on paperwork. But you also noticed little details that pointed to parts of him that he wasn’t used to sharing. Like how you could tell from how he undid the top two buttons of his shirt whether or not he was stressed or just trying to get comfortable. If it was the former, he’d slowly trail his pointer finger horizontally under his chin. There wasn’t a scar there because the blade had just barely broken the skin, but when he was stuck on something or upset with an outcome, it was as though he could still feel the cold steel of the knife William had threatened him with in the desert. You’d only seen him do it once or twice when you’d made the correlation between the negligible motion and what he was thinking and feeling, and it took him completely by surprise. No one would notice that. Juliet doesn’t even know that, and she knows everything. 
You didn’t even know the whole story of what had happened on that trip to the park, but you picked up on one of the residual phantoms from it that Logan still carried. I’ll tell her. I’ll… she needs to know. All of it. The ferry began to turn towards the slips at the end of the dock on Liberty Island, and you pulled away from him to sit up straight, gathering your bag and making sure you had all of your belongings. But not… it doesn’t have to be all at once. He let his hand slide down your arm before unwinding it from around your shoulders, bringing it up to comb through his hair. It’s not a rush. I can...we can take things slow. You turned back to him then as you slung your bag over your shoulder, and he had to hold back a throaty groan at the way your lips pressed together before spreading into a grin, cheeks disappearing under the lenses of your glasses. Damn. He was thrilled to be out with you, carefree and relaxed. But I can’t wait to get her back to that hotel room tonight.
“What’s that look for, Delos?” You let your smile curve up one side of your face until it was a smirk. 
Oh you know exactly what it’s for. Logan pulled his sunglasses off and folded the arms to hang them from the neckline of his tee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, buzzkill.” He shrugged, trying and failing to keep from giving himself away, laughing as you playfully smacked his arm. 
The boat lurched as the captain maneuvered it further to completely dock, and Logan took advantage of the shift and the way it drew your attention elsewhere to wrap his arms around you again, crushing you close and swallowing your laughter with a kiss. Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, he bit down with gentle pressure as your fingers curled in the material of his shirt. You hummed as he pulled away, and the sound was almost enough to launch him into another, more involved kiss. Slow down, damnit. He brought one hand up to your ear, eyes focused on the earring you wore and the way his sudden attack had caused it to flip around. 
“What are you-” you sucked in a breath as he used his thumb and pointer finger to fix the earring, your eyes falling closed as his touch ran down the side of your neck. 
“There.” He smiled as you blinked up at him, enjoying knowing that he’d just put that look on your face, and that there wasn’t any other face he wanted to see that look on but yours. Damn. Standing, he reached for your hand and pulled you to your feet as well, deciding that if he didn’t get up that second, he wasn’t sure if he could justify moving from that bench on that ferry with you. “C’mon, you promised me some views.” 
You laced your fingers tightly through his and squeezed. “And I always deliver on my promises.” You paused long enough to wink and he was sure you heard the groan in the back of his throat as he wondered what other types of promises you’d make to him. “Let’s go.” Good idea. 
Logan let you lead the way off of the ferry and onto the island, following a crowd of tourists towards the base of the enormous green statue. Shit, it’s a lot bigger in person than you think it is… He felt his eyes widen in genuine appreciation for the massive structure in front of him. People built that. He gave a minute shake of his head, staring at one large sandaled foot where it stood planted on the multi-storied pedestal you were leading him towards. 
“Speechless already, Logan?” You tugged on the hand that you held and he tore his amazed expression away from the statue and looked down at you. “Wait until you see it from the top.” With that, you changed direction and started leading him towards a different entrance. 
“Where are we-” He looked back over his shoulder at the line forming in front of the main entrance. 
“That’s the general admission entrance,” you explained, a hint of mischief coloring your voice that excited him. “But I pulled some strings and called in a favor I had with a friend of mine who...well really he’s a friend of Cynthia’s, but,” you sighed through a smile, reaching up to remove your sunglasses as you stepped into the shade. “Long story short? We’re not waiting in any lines.” 
You shoved your sunglasses into your purse and dug around for your phone, pulling it out and scrolling through your email to find the digital passes you’d been sent that would get you inside and up to the top without having to share the experience with dozens of strangers. You showed it to the guard at the door you’d lead Logan to, and he nodded, saying something into the walkie he had clipped to his shoulder as he opened the door for the two of you. “Wait right inside, Byron will be right down, he knows you’re coming. You two enjoy your visit,” he said as you both stepped inside. 
You both thanked the man as he pulled the door shut again, and Logan’s surprise only grew as he turned to you. “I thought you said you were showin’ me the real New York.” He cocked his head in the direction of the long lines out front. “Doesn’t that mean-” 
“No,” you cut him off holding up one finger and waving it before you pressed it to the middle of his chest to pull a chuckle from him. “First of all, real New Yorkers don’t come here because it’s always full of field trips and family vacations and there are plenty of other places in the city to take pictures. But,” you pulled the finger away from his chest and waved it once more. “If we have to partake in the touristy side of the city, we do it in style. I’m doing this for you here, Delos, not, oh!” 
“I know.” He’d pulled you quickly to his side then, lips landing near your temple. I know you are, and I… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. “Thank you.” 
“Logan, you’re…” your voice came out as a strained whisper before you cleared your throat. “You’re welcome.” 
The elevator at the end of the small hallway dinged as the doors slid open before he could say anything else, a man in a uniform similar to the one the guard was wearing emerging from the car. He gave you a bright smile and greeted you by name. You introduced the man to Logan, explaining that you’d met him a handful of times through Cynthia, who had known Byron since their college days. 
“Thanks again for doing this for us, Byron, I really do appreciate it.” You followed the man as he headed back towards the elevator he’d come from.
He laughed. “Of course, it’s not every day a woman like Cynthia comes calling for a favor, and once I heard that it was for you, darling?” Byron flashed a large, good-natured grin. “I was happy to do it.” 
“What exactly is goin’ on?” Logan couldn’t help but ask the question as he stepped into the elevator with you and Byron. I thought I knew what today was gonna be like but… this… He glanced over at you to catch your smile widening. 
“She didn’t tell you?” Byron’s eyebrows flew up on his forehead as he pointed to you, and Logan shook his head no. The other man laughed, the sound hearty and genuine. “Oh then you’re in for a surprise, Mr. Delos.” 
Logan was about to press the issue further when you spoke. “Just hang in there a few more seconds, Logan. You said you trusted me to surprise you, right?” I sure do. He nodded, and without missing a beat you reached up to fix a strand of hair that had fallen over his eyes. “Okay, so trust me.” 
He heard Byron’s muffled laugh as the man tried to cover it up with his hand but his eyes were focused on you. Damn. The way she… “Okay,” he nodded. 
“Okay,” Bryon pointed to the lights above the door, the top floor lighting up just as a soft ding sounded. “Here we are. I’ll be just outside here, you’ve got about twenty minutes between tours so,” the elevator door opened to show a small vestibule area, and a set of doors with a small sign over the top that read just one word: crown. “Enjoy.” 
You thanked him again and pulled Logan towards the door, but he paused, pointing up to the sign, one side of his smile pulling his cheek further up his face than the other. “The crown? That mean we’re-”
“No one gets to come up here alone, Logan.” You grinned, your smile changing your voice to make it lighter. “Well, no one but us.” 
Us. The small word sent a big rush through him and he inhaled through his nose as he let you pull him the rest of the way through the doors and into the observation deck of the crown level. He was overwhelmed by the combination of big things and small gestures, special moments and mundane ones all mixed together. And it’s not even...it’s just noon and we’re… 
But his thoughts were completely scattered as he took in the sight before him, mouth dropping open and a breath slipping out. Damn. The inside of the Statue of Liberty’s crown was far less glamorous than the outside, exposed steel beams and grated flooring making the small room feel more like a construction zone than a monument, but it was the arched window panes and the light coming through them that caught and held Logan’s attention. Beyond the glass he could see the river the two of you had just crossed, glittering between the island and the city, and he felt himself drawn towards the view, glancing back once at you before stepping up to the windows. “This is…” He leaned his hand against a beam and looked out. 
“Yeah,” you stepped up next to him, ducking under the arm he had propped against the beam, looking out the window and leaning into him slightly. With a sigh you continued. “It’s pretty beautiful, isn’t it?” Something in the sigh made him snap his attention down to you, but you’d already moved on to the next set of windows before he could bring it up. What was that? “I’m gonna,” you waved your phone and rolled your eyes. “I’m gonna play tourist and take some pictures. You should look out over there,” you pointed to a particular window. “The view facing that direction is-” 
“Alright,” he decided to let it go, figuring that you’d tell him if anything was wrong. What could be wrong, anyway? We’re… this is… she’s amazing. 
He watched you turn back towards the window you’d been walking to, eyes drawn to the way that the skirt of your dress twirled around your knees, and it was difficult to peel them off of you and train his vision back on the skyline and the reason that you’d brought him here. She’s the real reason, though. He felt another warm rush pulse through his chest as he let himself get lost in the view and the woman who had lead him to it. 
After a few minutes had passed, Logan straightened up and took a step back from the window. He turned towards where you stood, still gazing out on the far side of the curved platform. The view that had just stolen his breath, of the sun reflecting in diamonds off of the river and the shrunken city on the other side, had been one of the most impressive things he’d ever seen. And that’s saying a lot. Logan had had no shortage of unique, once in a lifetime experiences- things most people, including you, could only dream of. But this is different. This wasn’t new or cutting edge or high tech. Yet it was something that he hadn’t even thought to dream of- precisely because of what it wasn’t. He could only see half of your face as you continued to soak up your city from above, but he could tell that you were smiling from the slight rise of your cheek. I never would have done this if it weren’t for her. “Hey,” he added your name, loving the way it rolled off his tongue, and you turned, sunlight streaming in from behind you. 
“Hi,” you answered, darkening the screen on your phone and stepping over to where Logan stood. 
“You get some good pictures?” He pointed to the phone you held, but his eyes hadn’t left your face. You nodded. “Good. C’mere.” He reached for you and took the phone from your hand, explaining himself before you had a chance to ask what he was doing. “Need one more.” At that he brought up the camera app and held the phone out in front of the two of you, pulling you close enough to kiss but refraining and snapping the picture in the seconds before his lips met yours. That’s gonna be a good one. He hadn’t checked it but he didn’t need to, and he slipped your phone into your purse where it hung from your shoulder without even breaking the kiss. When he finally did pull away, you hummed and placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself. “Ya know,” he leaned in to run the tip of his nose over yours before pressing his lips against your cheek. “I think I’m really startin’ to like New York.” 
..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..
Shit. You stiffened in his arms and you knew that he felt it, even if he continued to let his hands roam over your waist and shoulder, and his lips claimed every inch of skin between your mouth and your ear. You sucked in a breath as he walked you back slowly until your back touched the cool glass of one of the window panes. The sensation of the glass and his hands on your body was almost too much, but you couldn’t let it eclipse what he’d just said. Or what I have to tell him.  
“Oh?” You managed the one word question between kisses, letting your hands travel up over the plane of his chest to his shoulders. He responded by humming an Mmhmm against your skin, making you shudder. “And…” your breath hitched as you clutched his shirt. “And what makes you say that?” 
“The company,” he answered, moving one hand from the small of your back to the front of your body, letting it climb up the side of your ribcage. “I can see myself comin’ back  to visit,” he nipped at the earring he’d fixed earlier before speaking around it. “Often.” 
Shit. 
Before you could say anything else, he surprised you by continuing to alternate between speaking and dragging his teeth over your skin. “I like that I get to come see you.” 
“Logan…” You knew you couldn’t let the moment go on without telling him about your move, but you weren’t sure that he heard you. You could barely hear yourself from the way that he was leaving you breathless. 
“Leavin’s gonna fuckin’ suck,” he pressed his nose into your hair and inhaled before changing positions to give the same attention to the other side of your neck and your other ear. “But,” he ran his teeth over the outer shell of your ear and you hissed. “It’ll mean I have somethin’ to look forward to, comin’ back here. And it means I’ll have to be patient. And you know what that means-” 
It was time to earn your nickname. 
“Logan, I...I have to tell you something.” You groaned as his thumb found the triangle of exposed skin at the top of your abdomen, his lips roaming the slope of your shoulder before he took the strap of your dress between his teeth. But if you keep doing that I…
“Yeah?” He released the fabric from his mouth and the hand he had on your hip came up to the base of your skull, the thumb of his other hand still pressing lightly into your flesh. Your grip on his shirt tightened as he walked you back another step. “Go ahead’n tell me then.” You could feel him smiling as he said it, lips pressing to the top of your shoulder again as you felt the cool glass behind you. 
Closing your eyes, you tried to quiet the thundering beats of your heart but they only seemed to echo in the empty observation deck. But between his touch and the diminishing space between your body and his you could feel yourself losing that battle, and it was only a matter of time before his chest was pressed to yours, only a matter of time until he could feel it for himself. You let out a sigh as your head tilted to the left, and you felt yourself give up. Can’t… not when he’s… 
“Thought you hadta tell me somethin’.” His beard brushed your cheek as his warm breath tickled your ear. “ What is it?” 
“You’re not-” Your words were cut short as he leaned his hips forward, pinning you in place. Shit. 
“M’not what?” He kissed the skin behind your ear and for a moment you thought about abandoning the confession entirely. But I have to… He needs to know and… 
“You’re not gonna like it, Logan.” Your voice was thin, barely a whisper as you opened your eyes. 
He pulled away then but didn't take his hands from you, palms relaxing but maintaining contact. “Hey,” his dark eyes found yours and locked on, softening. “What is it? You’re...worryin’ me a little here.” 
“I’m sorry, I,” you shook your head and let out a breath. “I don’t… you don’t have to worry, I just… Look.” You sighed and brought both of your hands up to your head, combing your nails back over your scalp as Logan dropped his hands from your body. “I know why you like this… why you like New York, and why you like that I live here and not…” 
He spoke your name and tilted his head. “What are you...what do you-” 
“I know you, Logan.” I do. “I know that you like the distance because it means we can’t… that you can’t rush into something, or that we won’t burn out and spend too much time together too soon or-” 
“Kinda blew that one before he had a shot though, didn’t we? Spent every day together for six months.” He brought one hand up to your face to tilt it back up to his, and you saw questions swimming in his eyes. “So what is it?”
“Logan, I’m…” Just say it for fuck’s sake. “Remember when I told you that Cynthia had me on a new project?” 
“Yeah, of course.” His eyebrows came together as creases formed in his forehead and small crinkles gathered in the corners of his eyes. “But…” 
“She promoted me, Logan. She wants me to run a new office and I’ll have to relocate.” Why are you drawing this out? Just say it. 
“Oh,” He let his expression relax. “That’s... that’s great! Congratulations! Don’t...I can still...it doesn’t have to be New York, you know. I’ll come see you anywhere.” He narrowed his eyes and let a small smile seep into them. “I have a ton of miles, I can use ‘em whenever.” I’m sure you do. “So,” he leaned in and kissed you quickly. “Where are you off to? Miami? Is Cyn finally goin’ International?” His expression changed to one of excitement. “London?” 
“Los Angeles.” You answered, closing your eyes and feeling his hands drop from your body again. Yeah, that’s what I… “She needs me to run the West Coast office, Logan, she…” 
“L.A.? You’re…” his eyes widened. “You’re movin’ to California?” You nodded, eyes still closed as he took a step back. “When?” 
Blowing out a breath you opened your eyes to see him staring at you. “Soon. Next month. But it doesn’t have to-” It doesn’t have to change anything. 
“You didn’t wanna tell me?” His expression was a mixture of serious and confused, and you wanted desperately to make him understand everything. 
“What? No, of course I wanted to tell you, I just… I know that…” Your heart pounded in your chest. This isn’t… I ruined it. The day, the trip, all of it, it’s-
“You thought I...wouldn’t want to hear it?” He shifted his weight and leaned his shoulder into the steel beam to your left. “Thought I’d get…” 
“I thought you’d think it was too soon for me to… even though it isn’t- I’m moving because of my job, not because of…” you gestured at the space between your bodies. “Not because of this, I...this is still...we just...I wouldn’t try to rush anything like that, Logan, it’s just...bad timing.” 
“Bad timing?” He blew out a small breath that was almost a laugh, and then he shocked you further by stepping close again, both hands finding their way back to your waist. “You think it’s bad timing that the woman of my damn dreams is movin’ to my city, and I only have’ta wait a month?” He searched your eyes with his as a smile curved his lips.
What? 
You were sure that Logan would have reacted differently, and you wanted to make sure that he wasn’t holding anything back. Even though I know he always… “You’re not...worried? That it’s…” 
He leaned in then to quiet you with a brief kiss, his fingers squeezing into your waist as your hands came back to his shoulders. “No.” He kissed you again. “I’m not worried, ‘cause I know you’re not gonna… I know you’re not movin’ because you’re tryin’ to…” he laughed then and brought his left hand up to wiggle his empty ring finger. “Look. I get it. It’s a business move, out of your control. I did like the fact that you bein’ here meant that I’d have to… take things slower than normal but... “ He gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t see why we can’t…” 
“Logan,” you nodded enthusiastically. “We can. We can take it as slow as...we don’t have to spend every day together just because…” 
He laughed again and pressed another kiss to your lips. “No, we don’t, that’s right, killjoy.” You rolled your eyes, his lips still against yours so that you could feel his breath on your face. Damn, this wasn’t what I expected but… you laughed. But none of this was expected. “Plus, you’re gonna have your plate full, runnin’ a brand new office. I bet you won’t even have time for me for weeks.” 
“See? You won’t have to see me any more than if I was still living he- oh! Logan!” 
He pulled you into him then, winding his arms around you to speak into your ear. “You think I’ll get sick of seein’ you?” He didn’t wait for you to respond before he answered his own question. “Not gonna happen.” 
Relief flooded your system then as he tightened his hold on you just to let it go. That’s one half of the news down. Now I just have to tell him who my new client is. You knew that part was easier said than done, and though he’d reacted far more favorably than you could have imagined to the news of your move, that luck simply wouldn’t extend to his feelings towards learning that you were to become very involved with his sister’s ex-husband. But… later. That’s I’ll tell him later, not...it’s too much all at once. I’ll… 
As though he hadn’t just confessed to being...excited? Happy? About your impending move and what it meant for your brand new relationship, as though he hadn’t put your mind and heart at ease all at once, he blinked twice and smiled. “You hungry? Think I saw a sign for a cafe downstairs? They had pizza and-” 
Despite the way that your emotions had just gone on a wild ride, you had to laugh. “No way I’m letting your first experience with New York pizza be from a glorified, overpriced snack bar, Logan. You deserve far better than that.” You rose on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose and you traced your fingertips over the line of his beard where it met his cheek. “C’mon,” you grabbed for his hand just as Byron poked his head back inside to let you know that your time in the crown was up. “There’s a hot dog cart down on the island. That’s how real New Yorkers do lunch.” 
He chuckled and let you pull him back towards the elevator where Byron was waiting to see you both out. “Sounds delicious, Ms. West Coast Office,” he whispered into your ear and you thought you heard a sense of pride as he teased you with your new title. “After you.” 
Standing in line at a hot, metal cart, waiting for a vendor to pass you a hotdog with Logan Delos, you couldn’t help but wonder… 
Could it really be this easy?  
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downwiththeficness · 3 years
Text
In the Bond-Chapter 23 (Final Chapter)
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Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.
Word Count: ~7,950
Warnings: Violence, blood, the use of explosives, a bad movie reference, death (kind of)
A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.
Taglist: @symbiont13  
Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter 
Read on AO3   Masterlist
They were once again sitting around the conference table looking at a map. In this instance, the squabbling had, thankfully, been kept at a minimum. With a common enemy between them, all the anger and mistrust of each other had been redirected outwardly. There was no sense in fighting with one another when a greater peril threatened them all.
Lilah had marked several points all along an open space in the desert—possible hideouts Benny had used in the past. Javier was currently working with a small, trusted crew to root out where he might be through other means. While waiting for new information, they developed about five plans, all centered around obliterating the ever loving hell out of him.
She’d given up on steering the plan into less violent territory, settling for making things as quick and as efficient as possible. Lilah wanted no more incidents of near-death for the people in this room, herself included. If that meant others had to die, then so be it.
Seth leaned back in his chair, “We won’t be able to get any further on this until we know where he’s holed up. I say we get some food.”
They’d been at it for hours, and though Lilah wasn’t particularly hungry, she was glad for the prospect of a break.
“Pizza?” Seth asked, turning to the only other person in the room not on a liquid diet.
Lilah shrugged, “Long as its not from that place across from the grocery.”
“Oh, come on,” Seth groused, “Its not that bad.”
“The health inspection code is a ‘C’,” she countered, “They found rats.”
“Not in the pizza.”
She leveled a stern look at him, “They found them in the fryers.”
Seth rolled his eyes, but relented, “Alright. I’ll pick another place.”
Lilah leaned on her elbows with an indulgent expression as Seth took out a phone and pulled up the website to order. The phone wavering in her vision, the reminder of how she’d been captured, made her flinch. She covered it by running her hand over the map, but not before Brasa felt it.
Sitting to her right, he had been texting frequently with Javier, relaying the updates as he got them. Sensing her unease, his thumbs paused over the screen as he mentally reached out to her.
Lilah rolled her shoulders, taking the comfort he offered. She had a mission to accomplish. She could cry about being kidnapped later. Belatedly, Lilah realized that the ‘deal with later’ pile was pretty damn big and she would definitely have to take some time to actually deal with it.
Richie, who had been checking in on Kate, tossed his phone onto the table, “Much as I hate to ask, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
Brasa gave a curt nod, “I’ll have something brought to us.”
“Its appreciated,” Richie replied in a rare instance of sincere, professional gratitude.
She took in Richie’s appearance. He looked...tired. As a man of nearly unbounded energy, to see the glint in his eye diminished was unsettling.
“I’m sorry about Jackknife’s,” she said, catching his attention.
He lifted a shoulder in affected nonchalance, “Its good. We’ll rebuild.”
That boded well. Lilah half expected to hear that he was moving on to another high risk, high yield project. That he was sticking with the place hinted at Kate’s grounding presence.
“Did the bar top survive?”
Richie smiled, “Yeah. Its a bit singed.”
“That’ll just give it character.”
“Fair point,” he conceded, pushing his glasses further up his nose, “We got interviews with contractors in a few weeks.”
She made a soft sound of praise, “Look at you, doing interviews, being official.”
His eyes dropped, demure, “We figured we should actually follow the policies you wrote.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Richie’s attention was momentarily taken by a staff asking him about his blood type preferences, and Lilah found herself staring at the map. The ground cover was too wide, she didn’t have enough supplies. There were too many unknowns for her to be comfortable with moving forward. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t just make a decision and be done with it—execute.
The door to the conference room opened and Javier strolled in. Dressed in all white, a gleaming silver cane tapping along beside him, he was smiling wide. Cat and canary.
“I have brought some guests.”
Two staff were each dragging along a single, fighting person. Lilah didn’t recognize them, but she caught their fangs flashing as they grunted in pain. Clothing bloodstained and ripped, they looked like they’d been in a serious fight—which she guessed they had.
Brasa stood, gloved hand sliding along the wood of the table as he circled it, “Do they have the information we need.”
Javier’s smile held, “I believe they do.”
“Good. Bring them to my office.”
“As you wish.”
Brasa watched them go, then turned to the group, “I will need to question them. You may remain here for the time being. Rest. Eat. I will return when I have Benny’s location.”
Lilah cut in, “I’m going with you.”
He fixed her with a hard look, “This is not an easy thing to do. I will very likely need to hurt them.”
She blinked, “I’m sorry, who in this room just got kidnapped? I think I’m owed a little time to take out some aggression.”
From his perch on the tabletop, Richie drawled, “She’s got a point.”
Brasa glared at Richie, earning himself an amused laugh. Then, he gave a single, curt nod, and reached out for her. Lilah took his hand and followed him out of the conference room and to his public office. The two chairs that normally sat in front of his desk had been pulled out so that they faced the walkway dissecting the room. In each sat a battered culebra—one with his head hanging down, the other glaring defiantly at no one in particular.
Lilah let Brasa lead her to them. His step slowed several paces away and he squeezed her hand before letting go. Lilah stopped where he left her, folding her hands in front of her body as she took in the scene.
Javier was standing off to the side, the staff having left prior to their arrival. His expression was relaxed, but she sensed a hardness underneath it. They’d done this before. Possibly hundreds of times over their unimaginably long lives. She drew in a breath to steady herself.
Brasa pushed his hands into his pockets as he regarded them, “What are your names?”
“Up yours,” came from the glaring one.
Without hesitation, and seemingly without thought, Brasa kicked out. His foot landed on the knee of ‘up yours’, the bone crunching audibly. Lilah felt her hands clench at the sound, but she managed to keep the wince from her face. ‘Up yours’ screamed in pain, his chin tilted up to the ceiling. He let out another, softer sound, then visibly calmed himself. He’d been prepped for this.
Stepping forward, Lilah edged around Brasa, one hand brushing his arm. She leaned down and caught the eye of ‘up yours’, “This will go much easier for you if you answer our questions.”
His glare returned, more fierce than before, “We’re prepared to die for this.”
Lilah nodded, two fingers touching his temple, “We’ll grant you that. Death is much better than what he,” she jerked her head towards Brasa, “is going to do to you if you refuse to cooperate.”
“Luis,” came a small voice to her right.
Lilah glanced over at him, “Luis. Is that you?”
He nodded.
“And this one?”
A hesitation, then, “Rafe.”
“Rafe,” Lilah echoed, turning her attention forward once again. “Where is Benny?”
Rafe pulled away from her touch, “Nowhere. Everywhere.”
She very nearly rolled her eyes. They knew that Benny had created a kind of weird mystique around himself and his mission. They also knew that he had cast them as the villains in the story. The technique made a lot of sense—it was still annoying as fuck.
A scoff from Brasa, followed by, “Spare us your delusions.”
Lilah straightened to standing, “Benny failed you over and over. Why continue to protect him?”
Luis cast her a look that was edging on pathetic, “He saved us.”
“From what?”
“From you,” Rafe answered, something more than derision in his voice. Hatred, perhaps.
Brasa moved. Slow. Relaxed. “Why would you need to be saved from us?”
Another answer from Rafe, “You are Xibalban. We know what you do to our kind.”
There it was. They’d been told enough to keep them scared—little truths that were coated in a thin, thin lie. Easy to swallow. Easy to accept. Easy to break.
“It is true that my people once committed inconceivable atrocities against yours,” Brasa allowed with a congenial dip of his head, “But that is not what I intend, nor is it what I will allow. Not any longer.”
Rafe sneered, “Liar.”
“Sometimes,” Brasa admitted, “When the moment calls for it. But, this is not that moment. I am not lying.”
Luis spoke, his lips trembling, “We don’t know that. You’ve been hunting us down. Killing us.”
Again, Brasa acknowledged the truth for what it was, “Only those who put us all at risk.”
Lilah could see how this was going to play out, could already hear the back and forth that would take time that they just didn’t have. Benny could strike again at any time, possibly with more firepower. Every second they spent debating right and wrong, good and bad, was a second that could cost the life of someone she cared about. Lilah made a decision.
Reaching into the pocket of Brasa’s slacks, she pulled out his knife, flipping the blade open. With deliberate slowness, she showed each of them the weapon. Then, she started talking.
“I’m going to give you an opportunity. The offer is time limited, and it will be given to only one of you.  Tell us where Benny is, and you live. First come, first serve.”
The room was quiet, save for the near constant snarls coming from Rafe. Lilah waited. Knife in hand, she simply let the quiet hold, let the uncomfortable stillness of silence make them squirm. If they knew Benny’s whereabouts, they’d tell her, and soon.
Luis broke first, “He’s in the tunnels, about ten miles north of where he...found you.”
The last two words were halting, as if he knew he shouldn’t say it, but couldn’t quite help himself. Next to her, Brasa growled low and long. She could feel the heat of his anger build both physically and within the confines of the bond.
“We have a winner,” she rasped, affected by how viscerally Brasa was emoting. Knowing that the longer they sat there, the risk of blood spilling would rise exponentially, Lilah turned from Brasa, “Javier, if you would, take Luis to be questioned further.”
“As you wish, Lady Lilah.”
Brasa held up a hand, “I want details, Javier. I want to know what Benny is planning.”
With a flourish, Javier hauled Luis up, tossing him towards the door, “I will take care of this.”
Luis landed hard on his knees, grunting in pain. But, he got up and let Javier lead him, limping, out of the room. The door closed with a kind of hard finality that eased Lilah’s anxiety. She felt Brasa’s confidence in Javier’s ability to get more of what they needed from Luis.
That left Rafe.
Lilah’s fingers gripped the knife, her jaw set, “Were you there when Benny took me?”
She didn’t recognize him, but she’d been hit pretty hard and had been too preoccupied with playing possum to memorize the faces of the people hauling her away. Beside her, Brasa removed his gloves.
Rafe shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
Another shake.
“I believe you.”
He visibly relaxed.
“But,” she continued, “I did say the offer would only be given to one of you.”
Rafe, knowing that she wasn’t going to relent, let out a sound of rage, rising unsteadily from the chair, hands outstretched towards her. He was stopped by Brasa’s hand around his throat. There was an almost too soft to hear pop as his larynx was crushed, the sound of his anger cut off with a wheeze.
Lilah closed the knife and slipped it back into Brasa’s pocket. Then, deliberately, she took a step back and crossed her arms. She’d said that she wanted vengeance, but exacting it with her own hands felt somehow unnecessary. All the fire that had been there five minutes before dissipated, leaving her feeling deflated.
Brasa had no such issues. His fingers curled deeper into Rafe’s throat, pushing beneath his skin. Blood welled up, dripping down the back of his hand to the floor. Lilah didn’t have to look at his eyes to know that they were red with rage, the glow of his power burning ever brighter beneath his skin. Flame burst from Rafe’s eyes, smoke wafting from his pores. He seared from the inside out, his body cracking into dust from the top down.
Brasa’s arm dropped, and he wiped the dust from his hands, his attention on the pile at his feet, “I should get a broom.”
Lilah looked at the spread of particles, trying hard not to think about the fact that it had once been a person, “We might have more important things to do right now.”
His brows quirked, “You might be right.”
***
Lilah stood at her station, well away from where the action would go down. The night was deep and dark, the new moon casting no light to guide their way. She looked over her equipment, one hand brushing over the black metal box sitting innocently to her right. Her laptop was gently whirring, all comms connected. At her thigh, her pistol rested in its holster, her knife strapped to her arm. Lilah hoped she wouldn’t have to use them.
According to Javier, Luis had talked freely, answered question after question. All of this was relayed to Lilah in detail until she felt like she had a good grasp on Benny’s plan. Brasa had sent Javier to set up the final blow, refusing to allow Lilah to do it, herself, as was her preference. She was too tired to argue, never having fully rested since the bomb had gone off two days before.
It was hard to think about it, the breakneck pace she’d been going at over that time. Lilah couldn’t even nail down if she’d slept properly, couldn’t remember eating or showering. And so, when Brasa had firmly pulled her into their room, she hadn’t resisted.
Assured that her friends were being taken care of, she’d let Brasa strip her down and run her a bath, let him wash her with soothing motions, until the water cooled And then, they’d tumbled naked into bed, the full darkness of the room letting her fall into a deep sleep.
She wished that she could say that she felt fully rested. While Lilah had slept for a long time, she had awoken groggy. Her body ached with something that wasn’t quite injury. She sleep walked through getting ready for the day, reluctantly eating a meal next to Seth, who sat drinking coffee while he cleaned his gun.
It wasn’t until she began to set up for the job that Lilah’s brain kicked in. This was it. They could be done with this awful mess today. If they succeeded, Lilah vowed to herself that she was going to do something fun—maybe rob a museum.
As she was contemplating this, heat built at her back. She looked up to find Brasa and Javier standing not far away. Brasa was wearing the familiar uniform of leather, sunglasses perched on his nose. Next to him, Javier was very much out of uniform. Instead of a sharply tailored suit, her wore thick canvas pants and a long sleeved shirt. He’d forgone his usual cane, a literal sword strapped to his hip.
“Are we set up?” She asked Javier.
With a deferential nod, he answered, “We are.”
“And you made sure to ground the connection—its just that it could go early if you—.”
Brasa laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “He was very thorough. This will work.”
Lilah’s jaw shut with an audible click. She pursed her lips, the effort to hold back further questions not inconsequential. She busied her hands and her mind with activating the comms.
“McNamara online,” she said evenly.
It took a few seconds to get a response, but eventually she heard the click of the mic turning on.
“Richie Gecko online.”
“Oh, shut up,” Seth groused, “We’re in place.”
“You’re the one who said we should take this seriously.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t the fucking movies.”
Lilah rolled her eyes, “Alright. Hang tight while we get a lock on him.”
Tapping her mouse pad, Lilah opened the tracking app, “You think he’ll go for it?”
Javier shifted on his feet, “I believe he will. He’s already proven that he’ll sacrifice anyone and anything to protect his own skin.”
She stared at the little dots on the screen, “And Luis?”
“Running back to daddy,” he intoned, derision tainting his voice.
“You’re sure.”
He sighed, “I’ve done this a thousand times over. I know fear. I made him very, very scared before I let him go.”
The intensity with which he spoke, the unsaid threat in his tone, was enough to make Lilah drop the subject. She turned her attention to the screen, taking note of her location and the pair of dots indicating Seth and Richie. At the bottom left corner was a renegade dot that was steadily moving towards them. She watched it shift across the screen, pixels lighting up along the path.
It stopped at a fair distance from where the other two were congregated. Lilah held her breath as she waited for it to either stay where it was or start moving again. It stayed.
“He’s back,” Lilah murmured.
A flash of headlights appeared, lighting her station. She turned around in her seat, squinting at the car coming towards them.
“Is that one of ours?”
Brasa touched her shoulder, “It is. I should have warned you. Richie insisted.”
The car pulled up, dust swirling around the tires as it came to a stop. The engine and lights cut off, the driver’s side door opened. A dark head popped up, hair pulled into a high pony tail. Kate was dressed for practicality—jeans, t shirt, jacket, boots, gun. She closed the door, and walked confidently towards them.
Lilah waved at her, “Welcome to the party.”
She smiled wryly, “Richie said I couldn’t go with him, so I thought I would go with you.”
To be honest, Lilah was grateful for the extra support. It was often the case that she was alone, running the logistics, while others were executing her plan. Today, when the stakes were high, she found that she didn’t like the thought of being by herself.
Brasa took her hand, saying lowly, “Keep the bond open.”
She nodded, “Absolutely.”
“Good,” he leaned down and kissed her temple.
With a nod to Kate, Brasa turned from them. Javier stood a moment longer, his eyes absorbing Kate in detail. Then, he stepped back and followed his lord into the darkness.
Kate sighed with an odd kind of relief, “Well, what’s the plan?”
Lilah lifted a brow, “Richie didn’t tell you?”
“He said that he would be, quote, ‘fucking shit up’, but that’s as far as I got.”
That made sense. As if he’d gotten a power up in a video game, Richie had gotten some of his energy back as they neared the start of the job. As he’d loaded up the car, he’d been fairly vibrating with energy, a wide smile wrapped around a cigarette. Seth, on the other hand, had been stone cold sober—both literally and figuratively. The seriousness of his expression, the cant of his shoulders, told her that he was determined to get this done.
“Okay,” Lilah said, sliding into her chair, “This is Seth and Richie. And this,” she pointed to the errant dot, “is Luis. We’re fairly certain that he is heading back to Benny to tell him that we know his plan.”
Kate peered at the screen, “What was his plan?”
“To nuke the entire cave system, causing a sinkhole that spans across our entire territory.”
Eyes narrowing, Kate said, “That doesn’t make sense.”
Lilah cut her a glance, “What about it doesn’t make sense?”
“Benny’s schtick is all about how Brasa is destroying their way of life, right? What does taking down the cave system do.”
Lilah hesitated, her mind running through it, “I...think its because Brasa said they built it.”
“They did what?”
Hand waving to the land in front of them, “They built it—the Xibalbans. Its this huge maze of tunnels that are carved deep into the rock. I’ve only seen some of it, but its huge and complex and had to have taken forever to accomplish.” She paused, eyes scanning the middle distance, “I think that he made the caves a physical representation of their rule.  I mean, right?”
Kate cocked her head to the side, “That could be right. Benny could also be batshit crazy.”
“Fair point.”
“Well, we can pretty much guarantee that he’s going to change his plan, knowing that we know.”
Lilah shook her head, “If you’re right and he is batshit, then we don’t know that. Crazy isn’t always predictable.”
“That is a fair point.”
“Which,” Lilah added, tapping out a few commands, “means that we need to get a little more inside information.”
She cued up the sound, activating the comm Javier had placed carefully into Luis’ pocket on the way out. For a few minutes, she had to screw around with the settings, trying to get the best sound quality.
We should keep to the plan—Benny. Make their land unlivable, give them no place to retreat. Then, we pick them off like the parasites they are.
What about the Xibalban? Came a voice she didn’t recognize.
They’ll protect their bondmate first. When they realize the danger, they’ll come running.
Lilah reflexively looked around, trying to discern if they were going to be attacked from the deep black of the landscape around them.
“Could they know where we are?”
“No,” Lilah answered, feeling her shoulders drop, “No, they couldn’t.”
“Then…?” Kate prompted, her head shaking from side to side in confusion. “Oh no… get your phone.’
“What? Why?”
“They’re gonna finish off the bars,” Kate’s voice cracked, “We have to get the staff out of there.”
With a long line of curses falling from her lips, Lilah sent off a barrage of texts to the floor manager, telling them to get themselves and everyone else out of the building. As she did that, the conversation coming from the ear piece continued.
We should cut and run—Naya.
We run now, and we’ll keep running. We have to hit them where it will hurt.
Didn’t we already do that? Benny, you burned down his lair, you bombed both their bars—every time you try to hit them, they just keep...coming for us.
That was not untrue, and Lilah hated that she agreed with Naya. Her mouth turned down as she listened, half her attention on the phone in her hands as she waited for confirmation that the staff had been taken to safety.
They aren’t invincible, Naya.
Neither are you. A sigh. Maybe we should leave. Maybe we should just leave them here and go find a place for ourselves.
And let them win? There was that voice she didn’t recognize.
If we don’t fight now, we’re gonna end up like Luis, over there.
A heavy silence landed in the middle of the conversation, and Lilah could only guess that Luis had been killed after he’d told Benny that he’d talked.
We just found each other, Benny. I don’t want to lose you so soon.
You won’t. We’ll handle this, and then we can start our lives together.
The sincerity of his tone, the way Lilah could hear every emotion steeping into his words...It helped her to understand how so many people could believe him when he told them that they could succeed.
Brasa’s voice sounded from over the bond, We’re in the caves. Where should we go?
Lilah relayed Benny’s location, telling him to be careful. She avoided details about the secondary plan, about how Benny had wanted to distract him. It wasn’t necessary. She’d taken care of it, and would fill him in later.
“They’re headed for Benny. If he wiggles out of it again, Seth and Richie will herd him to the back up plan.”
“What is the back up plan?”
“We got incoming!”
Lilah tapped the keyboard, “Seth, what’s going on?”
“Got a group of ‘em heading towards us. Richie and I will take care of it.”
“Yeah, nothing we can’t handle.”
Lilah nodded, even though they couldn’t see her, “Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. If it gets too hairy, cut and run.”
There was a pause, then, from Seth, “Duly noted, boss.”
Unable to listen to the gunfire she knew was coming, Lilah cut the line. Next to her, Kate checked her phone, tapping on the screen a few times.
“What’s left of Jackknife’s is empty. The staff have gone to ground.”
“Good, good.”
Lilah’s phone had been silent, no response from the manager. She hoped that meant they were taking care of business and hadn’t been killed in the second wave. Her stomach rolled with regret that she hadn’t thought he’d attack there again, that she may have inadvertently put both her staff and the remaining injured culebras in danger.
We knew you’d be here—Benny.
Apparently, Brasa and Javier had arrived. She found herself leaning into the computer as she listened.
This needs to stop, Brasa’s voice was deceptively soft. She could feel how he was going to stop things, how much it took to say what came next, The two of you can go. We just want him.
Not a chance.
I can’t leave him.
This was said simultaneously, but Lilah could pick apart the variation in tone. The unknown man spitting the words out, Naya’s voice soft and weak and desperate. She resisted feeling sorry for either of them.
We will take him by force, Javier pronounced, and she could hear some rustling, then, We don’t want you, but we will go through you.
More rustling, I’m not afraid to die. And, if I get to take you out with me, that’s a bonus.
And then there was a bang that preceded the comm cutting off entirely. Lilah stared at the screen, one finger tapping on the keyboard to try to bring the sound back. No use. It was fried. Closing her eyes, Lilah reached across the bond to find that Brasa far away, further than he’d been since the beginning of all this.
She couldn’t tell if he was hurt, or if he was putting distance between them so that he could concentrate on doing what needed to be done, so that he could shield her from it.
“How fast is your car?”
Kate smiled, “Pretty damn.”
“Let’s go.”
It wasn’t until they were speeding away that Kate actually asked where they were going, “I’m literally hauling ass through the dark, here.”
Lilah pulled up her phone, opening the tracking app for the comms. She had the last location of Brasa, the little dot shining from somewhere below the ground. And then there were the two dots signifying the brothers. They were a little further South than they had been, but they were moving.
She opened the line, “Guys, you there?”
A click, “Yeah, we’re here. Kind of busy, though.”
Then, Seth cut in, “These fuckers just keep coming.”
Lilah swallowed down her rising nerves, “We’ve lost contact with Brasa and Javier. We’re gonna check it out.”
A few shots fired, the sound of it making Lilah wince. Seth’s voice followed, rough with exertion, “That’s a bad idea. He can handle himself.”
“I think,” Lilah croaked, “I think they had the same idea we did.”
There were more shots, intermittently cut through with unintelligible yelling. Lilah tried not to think about what was going on, knowing that her mind was far more creative than was typical of reality. Instead, she focused on directing Kate while she waited for a response that she might not get.
“Ah, fuck!”
“What happened?”
“Got clipped in the side,” Seth ground out, “Its not deep. I’m good.”
He wasn’t talking to her. She could tell. He was reassuring his brother.
“Quit getting hit,” Richie demanded, “We got people to kill.”
“Yes, Richie, that’s so helpful.”
Knowing that she wasn’t going to get them to focus, and the attempt might result in another injury, Lilah turned down the volume and pointed to the left of the car, “That’s about where they were.”
Kate pulled to a stop, shutting the car off, “What do you want to do?”
“I want to find him, and I want to ring his neck for leaving me in the dark.”
“Alright.”
Pull her gun from its holster, Lilah exited the car, using the headlights to peer around, “I don’t see anything.”
Kate had followed her example, a nine millimeter pointed towards the ground in front of her, “I don’t either.”
“They must still be in the caves, or—,” Lilah cut herself off as she spotted a plume of dust settling not too far away.
Kate followed her gaze, her mouth thin as she concentrated, “You think…?”
“Yeah,” Lilah breathed, “We need to be careful. The ground looks unstable.”
And indeed it did. Fissures cut through the rock below, the surface shattered in some places. Lilah eased forward, stepping back quickly when her foot sunk deep.
“Okay, what do we do?” Kate asked, taking a few steps back her eyes flicking back and forth.
“I don’t know.”
In the distance, something blew up. Another. And another. The sound came from all around them. Lilah could feel vibrations in her feet, in her chest, her hair standing on end.
“The fuck?”
Kate grabbed her arm, “The plan—they planned to blow the caves.”
Lilah stared at her, her mind slowly working to put the pieces together.
“He wasn’t going to hit the bars,” Kate said, her eyes shining with intensity, “He was going to bring us here. He knew you’d feel the hit to Brasa, knew you’d come here.”
Lilah looked down. Another bomb went off. There was no telling how many more there were, or when the ground beneath them would crumble. Angry and afraid, she reached out, slamming through the bond as it stretched thin.
I’m here. I’m fine. Javier is fine. We are near your post.
As relieved as she was to hear it, she cut through his reassurances, I already came to you. I followed the comm. Kate and I are standing on the caves.
She sensed his fear, sensed that he’d turned and was running back towards her, I’m coming.
No, no, that’s what he wants. You need to head towards Seth and Richie. They’re the next stop. Kate and I will get out of this.
Kate was already moving to the car, ushering Lilah along. Inside, she slammed the transmission into drive and they hauled ass away.
“We need to get to Seth and Richie,” Lilah said, pulling out her phone.
As she expected, their dots were moving towards the rendezvous points. Unexpectedly, the comm they’d planted on Luis was also moving. It had reconnected to the tracking system, and was flying in a twisting pattern towards the Geckos.
Lilah glared at it, flinching as a bomb went off a little too close for comfort. Kate was driving fast, the car eating up road as the engine roared. If it had been anyone else at the wheel, Lilah might have worried for her safety. As it was, Kate was a notoriously skilled getaway driver, having honed the talent over many jobs.  
She hesitated, her finger hovering over the connection button on the app. Her hunch could be wrong.
Mouth curling, Lilah connected to the comm, “You still alive?”
There was rustling along the line, a bit of feedback, then, “I am alive and well.”
“Wish I could say that I’m glad to hear it, Benny.”
He chuckled, the sound coming out forced, “Good thing I don’t give a fuck about your happiness.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m guessing that you can see where I’m heading.”
“I can.”
“Good,” he bit out, “Then you’ll know when I’ve taken care of your friends.”
“You’re not going to make it that far, Benny.”
“We’ll see.”
The comm disconnected from his side. Lilah sighed and shut down the app. She pushed her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt and fiddled with the edge of one of her sleeves.
“We almost there?”
Lilah nodded. Whatever she might have answered was cut off as a bomb went off too close to the car, the ground exploding outwards. Rocks shattered the windows on the driver’s side, the car swerving as Kate tried to keep control. A second bomb went off a moment later, the back side of the car lifting about ten feet. As it slammed back down, Lilah could hear the axle crack, knew instinctively that they had to get out, and fast.
“Out! Out!” Lilah cried as she threw off her seat belt.
Disoriented, Lilah stumbled as she got out of the car, looking over the body to see Kate slamming the door closed and rounding the hood.
“You alright?”
Lilah nodded, “I’m good. The car’s fucked, though.”
As if on cue, a bomb went off maybe a hundred yards away, and the ground shifted. Lilah felt it in a way that she couldn’t describe, an intangible feeling that scared her more than she’d ever been scared before. In between one second and the next, the ground sunk down, caving in on itself. The hole grew bigger, yawning ever wider as it worked to swallow them whole.
“Run!”
Lilah had never, never made her feet move so fast. The air whipped at her as each step slammed into the ground. The roaring in her ears was only tempered by the sound of her own breathing. A glance over her shoulder saw the car rear up before falling down into the depths, cutting off the light. Gritting her teeth, she dug into her pocket, her stride slowing as she keyed up the flashlight on her phone.
The path before them was illuminated, much good that it did them. On either side of them, the ground trembled. They weren’t going fast enough. They were going to fall.
Brasa…
He heard her, but his answer was overpowered by the way the ground fell out from under her. Lilah’s arm was caught by Kate, who dragged her to the side.
“Over there, the rock formation. That’s the safest bet.”
Not in a place to argue, Lilah followed Kate’s lead, pushing through the burn and strain of her muscles. As they neared, a tiny flicker of hope swelled, urging her to just keep moving. Lilah obeyed the feeling, arms pumping, breath punching in and out.
Another huge chunk of ground swelled up and dropped, the rumbling sound of crunching rock following. She veered, moving with Kate towards the only goal in sight.
Scrambling up, Lilah climbed as quickly as she could, digging her feet into the stone and scraping her palms. Behind her, in front of her, to her left and right, the earth roiled. She could hear more of the cave system crumble in on itself, taking whoever might be inside with it.
Near the top, with Kate huffing at her side, Lilah turned and watched the disaster unfold. It was a sight she would never forget. The whole world, as far as she could see it, rocked up and down, sinking and rising, turning over almost completely.
“He meant for us to be in that,” Kate said, the barest tremble in her voice.
“He did.”
“Fuck this guy.”
“Yeah,” Lilah said, when she could find her voice again. “Fuck this guy.”
Kate closed her eyes, and Lilah didn’t even have to guess at what she was doing. She drew in a breath to follow suit.
I’m okay. We got out.
Let me through.
Have you found Seth and Richie?
Let me through.
Tell me. Did you find them.
I...did.
And?
Seth’s hurt. We can’t stop the bleeding.
Horrified, Lilah opened her eyes, catching a similar expression on Kate’s face. She made a decision.
“Tell Richie to let you through.”
Not waiting for an answer, Lilah reached out to the bond, got a good grip, and pulled. The world tipped over, and Lilah landed hard on her knee, dry heaving.
“You could have just asked,” Brasa griped from not far away. Then, “Are you alright?”
She nodded, swallowing.  As she looked up, Lilah caught Kate landing next to Richie, who was already bending down to help her up. Next to Richie was an ashen Seth. He was leaning against their car, blood soaking clean through almost the entirely of the front of his button down. His suit jacket was crumbled a few feet away, along with his gun holsters. He looked like he was going to try to stand, took a single step, and crumpled down in a heap.
“You look like shit.”
Seth started to laugh, the sound cut off by a groan of pain, “Fuck you, too.”
Ambling over to him, Lilah sat on her heels, “We need to get you to a hospital.”
He shook his head, “I’m good here. Could use a drink, though.”
“Don’t need to thin your blood any more than it already is,” Lilah shot back, “You’re hurt. This isn’t just a flesh wound.”
“Benny got in a good shot, I’ll give him that.”
Lips sneering, Lilah said, “We’ll get him back for this. We still have an ace up our sleeve.”
Seth sucked his teeth, blood coating the enamel, “You need to be getting to that ace.”
“Not until I know you’re going to make it.”
He was already shaking his head, “This isn’t something you come back from.”
Seth lifted the hand that had been staunching the blood, a spurt shooting out with every beat of his heart until he covered it again.
Lilah to a moment to think, “You can. You can come back from this. Richie can help you.”
She knew the moment that he understood what she was saying. She also knew that he was going to refuse.
“I’m not having this asshole,” he pointed to his brother, “Hold it over me for eternity, thank you very much. I’ve had enough of that already.”
“Are you seriously arguing about this while you’re dying?”
Seth glared at her, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was struggling to focus.
Lilah laid a hand over his, worried by the cool skin beneath her fingers, “Then, let me do it.” Surprised by her own words, she glanced up at Brasa, “I can do it, right?”
His mouth parted, closed, parted again, and then he nodded, “Yes. Your blood is my blood, and blood is the conduit.”
Turning her attention back to Seth, Lilah lifted her brows in question, “It’ll be better if its me, right?”
He was quiet for a long time, so long that Lilah began to feel the hope that had sparked while the earth trembled beneath her feet begin to fade. And then he nodded.
Hand digging into her sweatshirt, Lilah pulled out her knife. She rolled it into her other hand. And then, before she could question it, she dug the blade in. Carefully, Lilah dripped the steady stream into Seth’s mouth.
He took a deep gulp, then tried to pull away. Lilah cradled the back of his head, holding him to the wound, her eyes lifting once more to her bondmate.
“How much?”
Brasa’s eyes were fixed where Seth’s mouth met her skin, “A bit more.”
Lilah held her position for a minute or two more, focused enough on her task that she didn’t hear the conversation going on around her. Then, when she thought it might be enough, she pulled away. Seth, already weak, couldn’t keep his head up. His eyes were rolled back, forehead clammy.
“How long does it take?”
This time, Richie answered, “It depends, but not long. I’ll stay with him. You guys go after Benny.”
Kate moved to stand next to Richie, “I’ll stay with him, too. He’ll need someone here who won’t rib him for ‘coming to the dark side’.”
The last little bit of that sentence was said with heavy sarcasm and a pair of finger quotes.
Lilah sheathed her knife and stood, “You’ll let me know that he’s okay.”
With half a smile, Richie tapped the ear piece, “I’ll give you live updates.”
“Thanks.”
Brasa moved to her side, holding up the little metal box from her station, “I thought you might need this.”
Lilah took it gratefully, “I do. Thank you.” She rose up on her tip toes and kissed him lightly, “Let’s go kill this shithead.”
After settling Seth as comfortably as possible, Lilah took the keys to the car from Seth’s coat and hopped into the driver’s side. Brasa’s body dropped into the passenger’s side, Javier nimbly climbing into the back.
She rolled down the window, pointing at Richie, “Real time updates.”
He gave her a little salute and shooed her away, his focus turning to his brother.
It surprised Lilah how quickly they arrived at the rendezvous point, though it was nowhere near where they’d found Seth and Richie. Over the horizon, the sky was beginning to grow pink with the rising of the sun. She pulled to a stop a good distance away from where she knew Benny would be.
If all had gone to plan, they would have all been sitting here, watching this. Lilah comforted herself with the knowledge that they were at least unhurt, mostly. Seth would get better, would be healed before she got back.
Opening the door, Lilah got out, closing it behind her, the black box tucked beneath her arm. She didn’t bother looking for Brasa and Javier to follow, already moving around the huge boulder she’d parked behind. Pulling out her phone, she checked the dot representing Benny. He was right where she wanted him to be.
Below, the rock face sheered off, giving her the best view of the helipad just across a flowing river. Lilah breathed in the cool morning air, wind blowing gently.
Brasa leaned against the rock to her right, glasses reflecting the world below, “I can do it, if you want.”
Lilah looked at him.
“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to.”
She caught the glimmer of Javier as he stood at a respectable distance, felt the subtle change in light as the sun continued to rise. The night seemed far away already. The anxiety. The fear. The relief. It all felt as if it were a dream. And yet, here she stood, at the precipice of committing the final act in their plan. She felt no hesitation. She felt no fear. Lilah wasn’t quite sure she could feel much of anything.
“I got it,” she said finally.
And she did—have it.
Looking down, Lilah opened the box, her thumb flicking each of the toggles upwards until red turned green. In the distance, she heard the blades of the helicopter begin the turn. She looked down. Two figures ran for the craft.
“Is that him?” She asked Brasa, knowing that his eyes were infinitely better than hers.
He craned his neck, looking down his nose, “Yes.”
Without thinking, she tapped the comm, “You still alive?”
From across the distance, Benny laughed, “I am. Tell me, is Seth?”
She sneered, “He is.”
“Shame,” Benny replied, unrepentant. Then, with a light, conversational tone, “Hey, McNamara, looks like we’ll be seeing each other again sometimes.”
They wouldn’t.
“Hey, Benny,” she shot back, “looks like you’re on the wrong side of the river.”
Lilah waited a moment more, watching as the two figures climbed inside.
She pressed the button.
The explosion was small—or, perhaps it was only small because she’d seen so many up close not an hour before. From around the helipad, the explosives went off. In a succession of fifteen or so, they obliterated the ground beneath, until it began to crumble in on itself. And then, just for good measure, the helicopter, itself, detonated. Lilah watched until the whole thing fell into the hole the first blast had created, then closed the box and looked to Brasa.
“I want to go home.”
And that’s what they did. They found Seth, Richie, and Kate where they’d left them. Stuffing everyone into the car, they went back to the bar. Lilah was not ashamed to be relieved that the place was still standing. In their absence, the elevator had been fixed. It opened to workers still making repairs, a fine smattering of dust on every surface.
Tired, and half awake, the group filed into the conference room. Seth was laid out on the tabletop. As was his way, Javier was already arranging for food, liquor, and blood to be brought to them. As Lilah moved to sit, Brasa pulled her away from the chair she’d pulled out. With quiet care, he gathered her into his lap, holding her around the waist.
She wasn’t surprised to see Richie doing the same with Kate, though he was watching his brother very closely.
“When will he wake up?” she asked.
“Any minute,” Richie answered, his voice even and sure.
“How do you know?”
“Because Javier is bringing a bottle of shitty bourbon and you know he can’t resist.”
She laughed, some of the feeling coming back to her. Resting against Brasa, she watched as Seth laid on the table, unmoving.  He’d been asleep for so long that she was doubting her decision. Sensing her unease, Brasa ran a hand up her back. Up and down. Calming.
Her shoulders didn’t move from where she’d had them bunched up by her ears until Seth drew that first, ragged breath. The relief coursed through her, tears dotting her cheeks. Sniffing, she wiped them away, resting an elbow on the table as leaned forward.
Richie eased Kate to the side, rising. He took a few steps around the table, lifting a hip and sitting not far from Seth’s head.
“Welcome back, brother.”
“Fuck. You.”
Richie laughed, “Glad to see you’re going to still be cranky when you wake up.”
“I died, you asshole.”
“I know. I was there.”
Seth tried to sit up, dropping heavily back down, “Fuck.”
The door to the conference room swung open, Javier pulling a cart in behind him.
Richie smiled, “Breakfast is here.” Then, softer, “You need to feed, Seth.”
Lilah though he would fight, thought he would grumble and pout until the hunger took over. And yet, when Richie held the bag out to him, Seth took it. With ease that could only come from watching someone do it over and over, he tore into the plastic, and drank it down.
Standing hesitantly, Lilah crossed into his field of vision. He drew back from the bag, breathing hard, game face on.
“Hey.”
He swallowed hard, “Hey.”
“You feel ok?”
One shoulder lifted, “For having nearly died, I feel pretty good.”
“Cool.” Then, “You want to steal a Renoir with me later?”
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iammyownqueen · 3 years
Text
TTS Gen Week Day 1
Prompt: Sunset
(I know this is a day late but its fine)
Fic on AO3 or under the cut
Quirin was having a bad day. It was one of those days where every sound grates against your eardrums and the sun was just a little too bright.
That's how it started, anyway. For the most part, he could ignore the too bright sun and the fact that every noise was just a bit too loud, and the fact that his head was aching just a little. As the day wore on, the sun grew brighter and beat against his eyes vigorously. Every sound turned into a poorly tuned orchestra, too there and too loud and too much altogether. His head throbbed against his skull, until the only thing he really wanted to do was curl up into bed and ignore the rest of the world until everything got quiet again.
He tried to get through the day, he really did. He drank more water than maybe he needed too, in the hopes that it was just dehydration rearing its ugly head. He took breaks and sat in the shade, outside of the sun, although it wasn’t particularly hot out. In the end, he abandoned his field work and headed home. Even if he had stayed, he wouldn’t have accomplished much anyway.
Varian was working in his lab when he heard someone open the front door, which was odd because it was the middle of the day. The only people who really came to the house at all were his dad and Varian himself, and it was the middle of the day. It was far too early for his dad to be home.
Varian crept out of his lab and into the house with a rodent trap at the ready, so he could investigate who exactly was in the house, and immobilize them, if necessary. 
“Varian?” his dad called out.
Varian gave a sigh of relief and shoved the rodent trap back into his pocket.
“Dad?” Varian asked, stumbling into the kitchen. “You’re home early.” 
“Mhm,” Dad said helpfully.
“Are you okay?” Varian asked, noticing that his dad was standing by the kitchen sink, wringing out a wet washcloth. Varian remembered him saying that he had a lot to do before he left this morning, and there was no way he had finished already.
“I’m fine, Varian. Just a headache is all. I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Do you think you can handle dinner on your own tonight?”
“I- yeah of course I can. Are you sure you're okay?”
“I’m fine Varian. I’m going to take a nap, okay? I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”
“I-okay.” He wanted to argue, but his dad wasn’t much for admitting when he was sick or in pain, and it was even more difficult to get him to accept help when he needed it.
Quirin gave Varian a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder before trodding up the stairs to his bedroom. When he got there he closed his curtains, took off his shoes, and sank into bed. The cold washcloth helped to soothe his migraine, and the relative darkness and quiet of the room was a nice reprieve from the sun outside and constant noise.
So why couldn’t he get some damn sleep?
It was Varian, mostly. Sure, the sun coming through the windows was contributing, but did Varian have to do… whatever it was he was doing right now? Quirin could hear the loud clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, coupled with a truly awful smell wafting upstairs. It smelled bitter, almost like rotting cabbages but worse. If his migraine was bad before, it was bordering on torture now. He put a pillow over his head in the hope that it would block out both the noise and the scent, but to no avail. 
Varian, I love you more than anything in this entire world, Quirin thought to himself. But please do literally anything else right now.
Migraines have a funny way of distorting everything around you, including the passage of time. Quirin had no idea how long he had been lying in bed before Varian crept in. All he knew was that the smell had not yet dissipated and the sun was still shining through the windows and God must have forsaken him because his head still felt like an axe was bearing down on his skull.
His door squeaked open. He really needed to oil its hinges, it was louder than he remembered it being. More light from the hall poured in the room and he wanted to bury himself in his covers, if not for the fact that Varian was standing by the foot of his bed. Despite everything, Quirin was prepared to get up for whatever Varian needed him for. There didn’t sound like there had been an explosion, but maybe there was another emergency that he needed to tend to. Varian’s experiments had been going haywire less and less, but there was still the occasional accident that required extra help.
“Dad?” Varian whispered softly. If Quirin hadn’t been awake already, he probably would have missed it. “Are you awake?”
Quirin grunted and managed to push himself to a sitting position.
Varian came closer to the bed where Quirin was sitting. “I made this for you,” he said, holding out a small decorative vile. “It should alleviate your headache and help you get some sleep.”
Quirin’s heart melted. Of course Varain would try to help him, even when he made it clear that it wasn’t necessary. His son was always so thoughtful when it came to his alchemy, it was in his nature.
“Thank you, Varian,” he said softly, taking the vile from his hands. Varian simply nodded and handed him something else. Something wet. It took Quirin a moment to comprehend that it was a damp cloth, like the one Varian had seen him prepare earlier. Varian gave him a smile and left the room, closing the door behind him.
The medicine Varian left him with tasted worse than the smell, and Quirin had to stop himself from gagging. Despite this, it worked wonders. After a few minutes, it seemed to soften everything around him, and he felt himself drift off easily.
A soft sunlight was filtering through the windows when Quirin finally woke up. It was evening now, he was sure of it. He yawned and stretched, basking in the lack of pain. That medicine had done its job and his headache was now nonexistent. He took a deep breath, and was pleasantly surprised by the wonderful smell that greeted him. It was a far cry from the rotting cabbages he had smelled earlier. This smelled like something cooking, though he wasn’t sure what. Curiosity and hunger quickly took hold of him, and he made his way to the kitchen.
 What he saw wasn’t what he expected, but it was appreciated nonetheless. Varain, instead of doing any form of alchemy, was sitting quietly at the table, reading a book.There was a pot bubbling on the stove and as Quirin approached, he realized that it was soup.
“Varian, you didn’t have to do all of this,” Quirin said with a smile. When he had told Varian to handle dinner by himself, he had expected him to make some ham sandwiches and be done with it, not prepare a full meal for the two of them.
“I know,” Varian shrugged. “But I wanted to.”
Quirin hugged him from behind, though he was still sitting in the chair. Varian hugged back to the best of his ability, wrapping his arms around Quirin’s.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Varian said softly.
“Me too,” Quirin said. “Thank you for your help.”
“Mhm,” Varian said with a smile.
Quirin let go and ruffled Varian’s hair. “Is the soup ready yet or does it still need more time?”
“No, it’s ready, I was just waiting for you.”
Quirin smiled again and got two bowls from the cupboard and dished out two bowls of soup. Varian accepted his with a smile and closed the book he’d been reading.
“Are you working on any new projects?” Quirin asked.
“Actually, yeah! I was thinking about a serum that could improve crop yields. That way, you wouldn’t have to spend as much time tending to the crops. If I can just get the formula right…”
Quirin listened intently, knowing full well that Varian would have the first version of the serum done before the end of the week.
Outside, the sun was setting at last.
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lovenona · 3 years
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me, waking up: oh another day. then, after reading your answer: HOLY SHIT. guess i'm now the loving ramble enabler (LRE?). and DO NOT apologize for being passionate about smt that makes you happy you lovely human being that u are! hearing you ramble (how many times will i use this word idek) about the creation process made my day dammit! and i can assure you, reading about it is as good as reading the masterpiece itself, especially considering how good you are at manifesting the vibes (tm) (pt1)
(pt 2 bc word count sucks) how did you first get interested in pirate history? (if you don't mind me asking ofc) *slides 15 bucks* please, be my guest. do tell us more about the writing/revision process. sincerely, a genuinely interested person currently wondering why the fuck tumblr won't let her do a paragraph break. have a lovely night/day!
bestie ur rly enabling me 😭 ur so sweet skSJKAJSk i will tell u so much under this god damn cut 
first because this is the easy response: how did u get interested in pirate history????
short answer: keira knightley in pirates of the caribbean BYE 💀
long answer: it’s basically a mix of those movies being a centerpiece of my childhood and me just thinking pirates are cool SKJSKAj i’m very much into history n my uni had a course on ‘history of pirates’ last spring so i took it as smth to do during quarantine and i ended up really loving it !!! i’m actually workin on historical fiction short story abt anne bonny and mary read rn which required me to do a lot more research on pirates (under the black flag by david cordingly is a very good book on piracy!) and my research has been very interesting just in general and for writing the odyssey – i've incorporated little historical tidbits here n there to add to the world-building :’)
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next: ur writing process
ok so let’s go cray besties i’m going to tell u abt the life of adele writing the odyssey!!!! i’ll try talking abt this in some semblance of a logical step-by-step
1. manifesting vibes + outline
i talked abt this last time but manifesting the vibes is very important ! the first things i like to do when getting ready to write a new chapter is define the setting – place(s), weather, time, and general mood 
while i have a pretty good idea of how many chapters it will be and where the odyssey ends, i usually don’t plan a chapter in super great detail until it’s time to sit down n write it. i have general points of people to include + things that would be important to the plot + vibes i hope to include (parts 6 and 7 r gonna SLAP!!), but these never get fleshed out until it’s Time. my outlines are therefore usually not very detailed because i like to give the odyssey room to do its own thing – i find it important that the story takes its time and we get to the important stuff whenever it wants us to. an outline will usually b something like, in the case of the furies call part 2: 
find megumi, talk abt his role in the zenin clan – naoya arrives on shore and shit hits the fan – run to find mai, maki fights her father – fight between naoya and todou – todou dies because you can’t kill naoya – sukuna rescues reader and it ends
after i have smth that looks like this as well as a decently clear idea of how everything will look and feel we get started!!
2. writing (pain)
arguably the worst stage for any creator! writing! at this point i genuinely just let go and let god tbh. i have no idea how i do things at this stage other than see how many commas + dumb poetic phrases i can include SKKSJKA – sometimes things just happen and it’s really cool!! for example in part 4 i didn’t know the guns warehouse was going to blow up until i was writing it and it just happened 
i do have a set quota of words i meet every time i sit down to write so that i A. feel accomplished and happy when i'm done, even if it sucks and B. don’t get burnout and start hating what i do. this stage is always difficult because writing is just hard and takes a lot of brainpower and self-discipline </3
i wld say the hardest part is that i run the risk of getting very overwhelmed – by the complexities of the plot, by how fucking long it takes me to write, by how much work writing itself is ! for example, abt 7k or so into part 5 i started having the worst existential dread when i realized that this chapter was not even halfway done and i wld have to surpass 15k before it was (at the time of writing this, part 5 is 16.3 💀) it just gets hard sometimes to overcome that and maintain the motivation to keep going and know that everything will be fine when it’s done – thankfully everyone here is so patient and sweet so it makes me feel better when i'm taking forever and/or need time off <333
basically, as always, the pain of writing is just having to write and come to terms with the fact no one else is going to manifest it for u. and have fun too!! writing is only fun when ur writing what u think is cool 
3. revision (less pain)
one of the fun stages, but also the point when i start to become impatient! writing an odyssey chapter can easily take 2.5-3 weeks even if i'm writing my quota every single day (part 5 took roughly 3 weeks of writing every god damn afternoon) and after that i spend another few weeks just going back and rereading/fixing everything. 
i basically start by rereading sections of the chapter to change sentence structure, grammar, dialogue, or whatever else i don’t like – sometimes sentences sound stupid or certain things don’t make a whole lot of sense so i like to go back and polish up! for example i changed the arrival of maki/mai/nobara in furies call part 1 about ten times before i decided it made sense to me
this step can be horrendous because i'll often write things really shitty in the first draft with a “i’ll come back to this later” mindset and then get mad at myself later for being a hoe <//3
in essence, i'm a horrible perfectionist so i will usually reread everything and change or add things multiple times before i think i'm finally ready to share. most of the time, as the chapter gets closer and closer to completion i become more and more hyper-fixated on it – i’ll start spending almost all of my free time just rereading and looking for minor fixes or places that don’t vibe as well. 
at the end of this step, my favorite thing to do before i queue the chapter up to post is sit down and just read the entire thing once or twice and give it one last kiss before i send her off into the world <3
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so anyway there’s my ted talk of how i usually make the odyssey ! i vibe, write, revise n take forever to do all three steps but that’s just part of the fun! thank u for tuning in if u have any other questions u wld like me to overshare on i am more than happy to talk abt it :’)
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neohighwayv · 4 years
Text
Good enough
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Characters: WayV’s Yangyang x fem reader
Genre: angst, fluff, bff!au
Word count: 4.1k
Description: In which you think you’re never good enough – and Yangyang does not know what to do when the strongest person he’s known breaks down.
------
“Hey, you can put your work aside for now, I got us dinner.” Yangyang announced he enters the shared apartment, closing the door with his foot as his hands were full of plastic bags filled with takeout food. He walked over to place the food on the kitchen’s island counter, right beside your pristine sleek silver laptop. He started unpacking the food from the red and blue plastic bags, making sure to buy your favourite dumpling soup from the stall at the end of the street, even though it took him a good 20 minutes to get there; he’ll do it for you – his best friend and roommate. He knew you’ve been working hard this semester, and whilst he can’t help with lightening your workload, he figured he could at least make you slightly happier by keeping you well fed.
You, however, ignored his presence entirely. Your eyes remained glued to the glaring laptop screen, the pages upon pages of words practically screaming at you to read them, yet the dull throb at the back of your head made it hard to get anything done. You’re reading the words but you’re not processing them. You’ve been going at the snail’s pace for the past 2 hours, only getting through 5 pages of this article. Yet, you’re not even sure if you’ve understood everything from the past 5 pages of it. Could you even tell a difference between Freudian theory and humanistic psychology now? Ask a toddler and they might be able to give a better answer than you can. Still, you’re the stubborn type – you truly never knew when to stop or take a break for your own good – and so you keep going.
Till the end of this chapter. Just 2 more pages before I take a break and have dinner with Yangyang.
You tune out the noises that Yangyang made beside you, tightening the grip on your mouse and fixing your stare on the screen more firmly. You will your heart rate to go down, torn between not wanting to keep Yangyang waiting versus finishing the chapter.
When all the food has been placed neatly into plates and scooped perfectly into bowls, Yangyang prompted you to take a break again.
“Let’s have dinner together now?”
“I know, Yang. Just 5 more minutes.” You snapped back immediately, tone clipped and tense.
That’s when Yangyang knew that he’s hit a nerve. He wanted to protest against your statement but he knew better than to do that. He’ll just anger you further. Hence, he bit back his remark, opting to chew on his inner cheek instead. Being your best friend for years has its pros and cons. The pro: You’re smart, which meant that he’s always got someone to help him whenever he got stuck with his assignments and a sharp eye to catch his mistake. After all, you’re not a double major in Psychology and Sociology for nothing. Not everyone got to boast about that. The con: Yangyang knew you well. Too well. In fact, better than he knew himself. He knew that you won’t back down from anything you say once it came out from your mouth. He also knew that you’re always determined to finish what you started. So when you said 5 more minutes, he knew that you actually mean “Till you finish that chapter” and that no matter what he said, you would not move from your seat or touch your food until you’re done doing what you’ve set out to accomplish.
Plopping down in his seat diagonally across you, Yangyang had to make do with eating dinner alone again (for 5th night in a row that week) At least this time he got to sit in your presence – the previous nights, you had simply brought your food into your room, typing away on your laptop between mouthfuls for food.
-
Throughout dinner, Yangyang chewed silently so as to minimise disturbance to you. He stole glances at you from time to time, trying to gauge when you’re about done with your article. He knew how to observe when you’re almost done – your eyeballs would move rapidly from side to side, rushing through the last paragraph before closing your laptop shut. But even as he swallowed his last bite of dinner, he knew you’re not done. You’re still stared intently at the screen, eyes unblinking and posture stiff. Your head is propped up on your knuckles as you used your other free hand to move your hair away from your face before resuming its original position against your mousepad, slender fingers moving smoothly across the surface of the pad. Yangyang thought he saw the faint outline of a vein against your temple and the tight clench of your jaw. You’re tense, extremely tense. You clearly need a break.
Gently, he prodded again. But he doesn’t get another word in before you snapped at him again.
“Hey, maybe – ”
“I know, Yang. I know. Just... just give me another 5 minutes...”
He heard the exasperation in your voice, noticed the way you seem to became smaller in stature; your chest collapsing into itself as your voice becomes so incredibly small that he could barely hear you despite the silence in the apartment. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or were the edges of your eyes red? Something wasn’t right.
“Are you ok?”
“No, Yang. I’m not. I’m not ok.”
You snapped your head up to stare at him dead in the eye so quickly, that Yangyang worried that you might have snapped it into half. Your chest is heaving violently now, the silver necklace on lying on collarbones now glinting as it caught the artificial light from the lightbulb that hung above you. Your eyes got redder and glossier by the second, rare tears pooling around the edges.
“I’m not ok. This semester is going terribly and I just want to be done with it! It’s a groupwork but I’m the only one doing something. If I don’t say a thing, no one else does anything. Work meant for 5 ends up being done by 1. Yet there’s nothing I can do except suck it up because we’re at this stage where no higher authority would care if you can’t work with others. Just submit the work and be done with it! So, I suffer silently and hope I don’t break before I submit the thing.
 Gosh, I feel like I can’t even breathe because once I submit one assignment, I get another message saying that the new one is due at the end of the week! Just great!”
 At this point, you stopped to collect your breath, the first tears streaming down your face, the tinge of saltiness staining the tip of your tongue.
 “Professor Wang is not happy with my paper and she’s ‘extremely disappointed’ with my work. So much for being a damn straight A student when I can’t even submit a satisfactory piece of work. Oh, not to mention. I failed my driving test. For the 3rd time in the row. How pathetic. Went home and I got vindicated about it the entire weekend! ‘Your sister did it in one try. So did the rest of your cousins. Why can’t you?’ Well – it’s just too bad isn’t it? Driving doesn’t come easy to some of us. I’ve been trying so hard and not a word of acknowledgement from them – I just get blamed for wasting money and time.”
 At this point, you stabbed the tip of your pencil down hard on your blank piece of paper, causing the pencil lead to fly across the table top. Your knuckles were red from the vice grip you had on the pencil; your head bowed to prevent Yangyang from seeing the waterworks on your face. This entire time, Yangyang’s heart cracked with each revelation, never knowing how much you were hurting inside from all the pressure others were putting on you. Most importantly, the pressure that you were putting on yourself. He saw you every day... how could he be so blind to all the signs? The late nights, your quieter self, your bloodshot eyes. How could he possibly miss all that? He heard you suck in a deep breath, head still bowed as you place your head against your palm. From beneath the curtain of your hair, he heard your weak voice filled with hurt, voice wavering as you choked on your own words.
“I get it. I get it ok? I get that I’m not good enough. For anyone. For... anything. No matter what I do... what I try... I’ll never be good enough. I could try till I break myself but I’ll just never be good enough. I’ll just never, never, never be good enough and it hurts to be so painfully, aware of that.”
You finally looked up to face him - and Yangyang swears; he sweared on his life that he’s never seen you look so broken before and the sight immediately made tears prick the corner of his eyes.
 And that sight makes you cry even harder.
 You didn’t think that you were capable to producing more tears, not when your eyes were burning and you’re already so physically exhausted – but you do. You hated seeing him sad because he’s worried about you – the thought of making someone worried because of you showing your weakness – brought fresh tears to your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was to make your friends or family worried for you, and you absolutely hated being the cause of their pain. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop your strangled cry from leaving your throat, you didn’t want to make Yangyang anymore worried that he already is.
“Oh, I can’t do this anymore. I need to stop hurting people around me.”
That was the last coherent line that you managed to get out of your throat before you stumbled out of your chair, making a beeline for the bathroom so that you could cry alone. If he saw you break down anymore, you were certain he would start crying too and you didn’t want to be the cause of his pain anymore. You slammed the door shut behind you and proceed to slump down against the door, your weak body not even registering the heavy contact with the floor. The chilling bite of the cold tiles quickly seep through the floor to reach your body and your body shakes violently, but at this point in time, you’re not sure if you’re shaking violently from the cold, or the crying that is currently wrecking your body in waves. Strangled cries bubble in your throat, threatening to escape you but you clamped your lips shut tight, hoping that no sound would escape you. But you're not sure if that does the trick – you can't hear anything else over the wild thumping sound of your heart that currently filled your ears. You cried and cried and cried, the endless tears falling to stain your brown shirt into a darker shade of brown. In the past, you would have fought your tears, hating to show such a weak image in front of others and detesting yourself for doing so. But today, after months of fighting yourself and others, you're finally willing to concede – and for once in your life – you're willing to admit that you're too tired to fight anymore. You let your body does what it has to do to help you feel better – even if that meant crying yourself dry and hoping that all the pressure you've placed on yourself will be expelled through your tears.
 Throughout this entire ordeal, Yangyang sat shell-shocked in his seat, unable to move an inch. He can't really make sense of the mess of emotions he's feeling right now – but one particular emotion does stand out compared to the rest – shock. I mean – what does one do, when the strongest person you've ever known broke down in front of you? In this entire time of his 10 years knowing you, Yangyang might have seen you cry, but he's truly never seen you completely break down and reduced to tears by the pressure. Sure, he's seen you cry – when both of you are watching a particularly sad movie or you're listening to the harrowing history told by war survivors. But Yangyang has never – never ever, ever – seen you broke down from the pressure. That's why this episode was particularly shocking for him, because for you to do so, Yangyang knew that you must be under an immense amount of stress, to the point where you can't cope with it anymore. He thought back to all the times he's spent with you, and he cannot even conjure up an image of him comforting you. In fact, all he seemed to remember is being comforted by you. The countless amount of times he's called you over the phone to rant about someone's stupidity or a particularly infuriating incident – which usually ended with both of you eating dessert as he finished making his complaints between bites of ice cream. The infinite amount of post-it’s you left all over his belongings when you know he's going to have a rough week. He remembered when you showed up at his doorstep without him having to ask, immediately opening your arms to wrap him in a hug as he freely cried into your shoulder – the first time when his dog died from old age, and a couple more times after when he failed important things; tests, auditions and interviews that at that time, meant the world to him. In this friendship, you've always been the strong one, never once admitting that you're having a hard time. But Yangyang knew better now; should have known better earlier, that no one could be a superhuman. No one is truly invincible against the harsh realities of life – not even the strongest person he knew – and Yangyang wished that he had noticed the changes in you earlier. Of course, he knew that he's not fully responsible for you – you're an adult that should know how to manage herself and ask for help when she needed it. But as your best friend, maybe he should have checked up on you sooner. After all, that's what friends do for one another – to remind each other that they're always there should they need it. Maybe things would have been better if he had checked up on you earlier but it's too late to think about that now. Right now, you've locked yourself inside the bathroom to cry your heart out, and Yangyang's main priority as your best friend is to make sure that you're not left alone with your own self-loathing thoughts; to make sure that you're comforted – just like how you've comforted him so many times before. Yet Yangyang still can't seem to move an inch. He does not know exactly how to comfort you, he's never had to do this before.
Come on Yangyang, think. What should you do?
He fumbled over his few options – play you your favourite music, or buy you your favourite peppermint ice cream with bread from the uncle with the pushcart, or crack a joke. In the end, he decided to go with what he knew the best – comforting you like how you comforted him and Step 1 involved not leaving you alone with your own thoughts by having someone from your side.
Yangyang bolted from his seat, pacing quickly towards the bathroom before stopping outside the white door to rap his knuckles against the door, the rattling motion jolting you out of your stupor.
"Open up. Don't stay in there alone ok?"
"No Yang, please just leave. I'll be fine-" You catch yourself at this part. Are you truly fine? Were you ever truly fine? Whenever others asked you how you're doing, your default answer would be that you're doing fine. Even though you were struggling, the answer would be – "I'm fine." or "I'm doing well." You never wanted others to probe or ask too many questions, admitting to your struggles often made you embarrassed. Worse still, you didn't want family and friends to worry about you. "I'm fine" soon became a reflex, something you said without even processing the question that the other party had asked.
Your train of thoughts were broken when you heard Yangyang's voice travel through the door separating the both of you.
"No, you're not fine. I'm not leaving you alone so please open the door now."
"No Yang, I'm fine- I- just give me a few more minutes. I'll be out soon."
You heard Yangyang sigh heavily, his last words reaching your ears followed by the sounds of his footsteps walking away.
"I'm getting the keys."
"No Yang, don't you dare!"
You tried to raise your voice, but it betrayed you instead, cracking from being overused just now. You stomp your feet in frustration, feeling helpless once again. Yangyang was going to see your wrecked self soon, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it.
 Yangyang quickly sifts through the keys hanging by the front door before making his way back to the bathroom, slotting the key into the lock before twisting the door open. Once again, Yangyang was met by the harsh bite of your tone and words, but he brushed it aside. Your cold words directed against him is the least of his worries now. Comforting you, however, was his main priority.
"I said I'll be alright Yang, why-"
"You're clearly not ok. I know now. You're not ok. You haven't been ok for some time now."
You stood still when you heard him say such things, the words feeling foreign to your ears. No one has ever said those words to you because no one has ever saw through the strong front that you've put up before. Or even if they did, no one thought it was important enough to mention it. Someone finally noticed and cared enough to talk about it, and somehow that revelation made you want to cry again. Seeing you standing there unmoving, Yangyang decided to say something to break the silence again.
"You don't have to be ok all the time. So, would you just stop putting up a front for once, admit that you're not alright, and let me in? Come here."
This time round, you no longer resisted, allowing Yangyang to gently draw you into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing comforting strokes up and down your arms. Fresh tears streamed down your face at Yangyang's gentle gesture; you probably made a mess of his clean shirt but he could care less, that's not important now.
"Cry it out. Cry it out if you have to."
"Stop saying that! You're going to make me cry more."
"And that's completely alright. There's nothing wrong with crying."
"It's so embarrassing to cry – what do you mean there's nothing wrong with crying?"
You heard Yangyang take a deep breath, feel the rise of his chest against your cheek and you mentally prepared yourself for his lecture.
"There really is nothing wrong with needing a good cry to let out all your pent-up frustrations. There's nothing wrong with admitting that you need help, and asking for it. Can you internalize that and remember to come and find me when you're having a hard time? You do the same for me when I'm having a rough time, can you let me do the same for you? Even if you don’t come and find me, make sure you find someone else. Promise me that."
You stayed silent, not sure if you could ever bring yourself to admit being so weak in front of him again.
"Promise me." He shook your shoulders to elicit a response from you and you decided to grace him with a disgruntled muffle; not exactly the response that he was hoping for but he'll take that as a yes for now.
"Good. If you're ready to talk, we can work out how to go about dealing with your assignments and driving ok? Tomorrow we'll go see Professor Wang and get her to elaborate on how to improve your essay. As for driving... maybe take a break first. Like you said, you've been practicing a lot. Maybe too much. Knowing you, you probably went for tons of lessons before your tests. Am I right?"
You nodded weakly against his chest, a wry smile lifting the corners of your lips as memories of your driving lessons are brought to the forefront of your mind.
"Knew it. So, yea... maybe you should take a break. Give yourself time to absorb all that you've learned before you go back for lessons. The break will do you good – trust me on that. I'm only so carefree because I take more breaks than I should." Yangyang chuckled at his own words and you followed suit, your chest rising and falling as you let out soft puffs through your nose.
"Now that we've got a plan out for you, we should do one last thing."
"What is it?"
"We should get ice cream. And then you can rant about your teammates over ice cream. I want to get all that hot piping tea."
For the first time in a long while, you found the heart within yourself to let out a laugh, memories of Yangyang and his animated storytelling of terrible groupmates tickling your sides. Oh, how the tables have turned. It was finally your turn today. 
“So… are we going? Just waiting for your reply now.” 
There was no way that you were going to be able to say no to that, eating ice cream and complaining about people whilst eating was something that you and Yangyang always did; a sacred part of your relationship.
“Alright we can go, but let me wash up first and give my eyes some time to stop being red.” 
“WOOHOO! Ok, we’ll go once you’re ready.”
Both of you fall into comfortable silence again, Yangyang still held onto you in an embrace. 
“Thank you, Yang.”
“You’re welcome. I’m always available if you ever need me. Even if I’m busy, I am going to make time for you so come find me anytime ok?”
“Ok, I’ll remember to come find you next time.”
“There – you said it. You got to promise me. With a pinky swear and stamp.”
Yangyang removed an arm from your shoulder to place his hand in front of your face, his pinky finger sticking out from the rest of his fingers. You lifted your hand to hook onto his pinky before pressing your thumb against his own, using a little more force than usual and Yangyang smiled at that, knowing that it’s your way of saying that “I’m feeling better now. You don’t have to worry so much about me anymore.” 
“Pinky promise is done so you can never break the promise anymore. Oh, we’ll get extra-large scoops of ice cream later, my treat today!” 
“Sounds like a good plan, because I’ve got loads to say about my trashy group mates.”
“Awesome. Been dying to get some gossip lately, and now I’m finally going to get it.” 
You let out another hearty laughter at your best friend’s dramatic self, him following suit but when the laughter finally died down, you got some quiet time to be with your own thoughts again. 
 They often said that your worst enemy is yourself, and maybe that’s true for you. You constantly placed so much pressure on yourself, tearing and beating yourself up when you fell short of your goals because your failure is all that you could see, never the commendable effort that you put in or your perseverance to pull through with all your various responsibilities. You suffered silently by yourself even when the pressure became overwhelming, never one to admit your struggles because you didn’t want to be a burden to others – even when no one ever said you were. But today, you had been proven wrong. No one thought of you as a burden, and no one would say that you’re weak or embarrassing when you asked for help. And that if you did ask for help, those around you would actually come forth to render you their support. That’s what friends are for, to share the good times with, and to pick you up when you fell – and you were extremely lucky to have an understanding friend like Yangyang in your life. After all, no man is an island living in this harsh world alone – it’s easier to get by with help from friends and there will be someone willing to help you, if you’d only just remember to ask. You knew that old habits die hard, and perhaps even after this, you would go back into your shell and old ways. Yet, you’re confident that with a friend like Yangyang, someone would be there to look out for you, and coax you out of your shell whenever you forgot to take care of yourself again.
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warriorsredux · 4 years
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A different Anon here, but I agree with what a previous anon said, the redux deserves to be bound into a book! It was so amazing, Murkpelt and Firepaw being sassy? I loved it. Cinderpaw doing zoomies around camp? Adorable. Firepaw trying to count? I smile everytime I think of that funky little ginger dude trying to remember what the number four means. I personally liked how the chapters were a little shorter, it makes me feel that I’m accomplishing so much reading in one sitting. (1)
I especially loved what you did with Cinderpelt and Snowpaw, one of my pet peeves about the original series was that if someone had a disability, they would just get chucked into the medicine cat den or just die. It was so relieving to see that Cinderpaw wanting to be a medicine cat in the first place, and Snowpaw being treated just like everyone else and being mentored as a warrior. The lore, real cat behaviour, characters, stories, and mythology are just beautifully written. (2)
It’s definitely my favorite fanfiction of all time. On the note of worldbuilding, do you have any advice/tips for making your own for a warrior cat universe? I would love to make my own (the redux inspired me to get back into writing, no joke), but I’m not sure where to start, I think I’m overthinking things, I just focus on trying to make allegiances and accidentally waste time that I could have been writing something else. Sorry for the multiple parts, I didn’t want to put anything out! (3)
Where are you nice people coming from, god damn...
So thank you, firstly, this is lovely to hear. I’m relieved that there was still some enjoyment to be found in the Redux, flawed as it is. I hope that, if this rewrite gets off the ground (which I am tentatively calling “Iterum” until a better name comes along), it’ll be much more earning of that praise. And I am very pleased about getting you back into the writing world, that is a wonderful compliment.
Secondly, your question! For reference, I have my own fanClan that covers a pantheon of gods, as well as a pretty vastly different Clan system (which is covered more on that blog if you’re interested), and I tried very hard to make it different from the Redux’s universe. I would like to think I succeeded there, so hopefully my advice will hold water!
There were a couple main things I did with both universes that may be good steps for you to take: 
Examine the exact nature of the cats and their surroundings. What’s the weather like? What kinds of prey do these cats eat? How are the territories split up, and what do they look like on a map? What animals live there and how do they coexist with the cats? Basically, get the objective facts down about the Clans, their territory, and the cats themselves. This is important groundwork. 
From there, use that information to influence the culture. Within my fanClan’s universe, the weather of their area is pretty heavy and seems to carry a personality of its own, and as such they assigned characters to every type of weather or natural phenomenon, called “aspects”. Within the Redux, on the other hand, they don’t have as strong weather, but they do have fears that being so close to humans and other predators brings, so they created monsters that represent the different things that can cause trouble or hurt a cat (Yrrun being a warning against going into the houses, for example). What’s important and notable in Clan culture will influence how they see the world. 
Figure out how the naming system works, obviously. Do they follow a certain set of suffixes laid out for generations that have specific meanings? Do they go with whatever sounds nice? Are there forbidden names? What about cats that survive injuries severe enough to alter their appearance and mobility? Do they get new names, or is that considered cruel? The basics have been done for you - two parts to a name, every time - so it’s up to you to decide how to alter it (or not!). 
One thing that helps a lot is to take inspiration from real-world cultures and folk tales. Derecho of Steorra has a cult that was inspired by the cult of Dionysus, for example, and Terror is a catch-all boogeyman much like those shadowy monsters you’d find in a lot of countries that are designed to scare you the best way you can be scared. You don’t have to rip wholesale, but references are certainly acceptable. 
If all else fails, try tweaking something that you subsumed from canon. Lions, tigers and leopards exist in Clan mythology, but instead of making them ancient ancestors that lived in Clans of their own, I made them three individuals that rule over certain aspects of life. Clans can be barely marked by borders or just be made up of a bunch of families, sharing territory and having new ranks to help keep things moving along, like I did with Steorra. There’s plenty to work with that doesn’t make sense in canon that, with one little twitch to the right or left, can be a whole new creative thing in your fanClan! This can actually go with anything you take from outer cultures, as well, and it’ll actually serve you better to get creative and change things around than to just take from China or something. 
That’s the big things I can think of off the top of my head. Let me know if you need further help or anything!
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rant-2-me · 3 years
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i feel like im getting notthing done these days, like my life just going to complete waste. i should be doing something with my life by now i think, like im studying enough and im not rlly been feeling happy lately either cause i feel so much stress. i have exams in like 3 weeks and i dont know what to do for that either.
oh my sweet nonnie, listen,
There’s no set time frame for doing anything.
you can do things in your own time without having to worry about being “behind.” Sometimes it’s the things we do that feel like “stalling” or “getting off track” that end up being the most helpful for our growth.
theres a lot of sugarcoating advice on the internet that might say you're not wasting your life, and don’t get me wrong, that’s true — but it doesn’t help your situation at all.
You don't need to be "doing anything" with your life right now, maybe right now you just need to
Success is not measured by the rate in which we accomplish something, but in the fact that we have accomplished something
What you need is action.
you need to do something that makes you happy and is easy(ish) to do.
The best way to find direction is to trust your instincts instead of forcing yourself to do things because you think you “should.”
Your intuition is a powerful compass, and even if you think you aren’t making progress, if you’re following your instincts, you are.
There are always going to be opportunities that look good on paper, and that little, scared voice within may tell you that your life will only matter if you take them.
Other people may also tell you this, if not directly, indirectly; or you may assume they’re thinking this when really they’re too immersed in their own confusing journey to pass judgment on yours for long.
But sometimes the best opportunities are the ones you don’t take, leaving yourself open for choices that better align with your own values and priorities.
I know this may sound as impossible as growing wings and flying, but try not to worry so much about what other people might think. They may have expectations, but you aren't responsible for the vision of you they've made up in their minds.
The only one who can make wise decisions for you is you. And even if it makes you feel anxious at times, you will eventually thank yourself for being brave enough to follow your heart, not someone else’s head.
When it comes to creating purpose, there truly is no “wrong” decision.
You may think you only have one purpose and that you need to push yourself to find it, you can continue thinking this, if you’re okay with feeling pressured and scared.
Or instead of aiming to discover the one thing you’re supposed to do with your life, you could focus on discovering the one thing you want to try right now,
you can change direction any time. And that changing direction won’t be something to be ashamed of; it won’t mean you failed at discovering your purpose before. It will mean you had one purpose then, and now your purpose has changd—evolved.
It will mean you’re brave enough to let yourself evolve, repeatedly undertaking the sometimes terrifying process of discovering what else you can do.
Maybe that in itself can be a purpose—to live life in that vulnerable, uncertain place where you’re not boxed into one way of being, free to roam when it would feel much safer to tether yourself to one role.
How to get things done
1. before you actually do anything, take a whole day to shamelessly do nothing. its just one (1) day to relax,calm down, do something that makes you happy, let your entire body take a breath before it springs into action, an arrow draws back before it hits it target
2. when you wake up the next morning, dont reach for your phone. dont scroll social media or check the news. in fact, before you start your day, (if its possible) switch off your phone or put it on do not disturb put it somewhere your mind wont wander towards. give it to a friend and tell them not to give it back until u sit down and finish your work.
3. start by finishing tasks you figure will take less than 2 minutes.
need to water the plants? it'll take less than 2 minutes; do it. need to feed the fish? takes less than two minutes; do it! get all the easy work out of the way first.
4. check what your most time sensitive tasks are. finish them first.
5. try and figure out whats stopping you from doing something. most of the time it isn't just "laziness" that stopping you from doing something, sometimes its because the perfectionist in you is worried that if you try hard on that you'll fail. but the thing is, you can try again. and again. and again, and again until you get it right. try chipping at it slowly
for example, say you have to take notes for a class, and you have 10 pages to copy down, before you start watching a tv show, just write 2 pages of notes. you can also try the pomodoro method: do work for 25 minutes, then take a 5 minute break. repeat.
but something like studying and having hobby is something that needs to be repeated, over and over again, like a routine
How to add something into your routine:
start easy. the first time you do the hobby, it should be a cake walk
e.g:
exercise every day first day: 5 push ups.
1000 words every day first day: 10 words and so on.
try to do the activity after or before or even during a hobby you already do e.g.:
read 20 books in a year and you already: drink tea every day so you should: read 5 pages as you drink tea
you want to learn a language and you already: plait your hair before you sleep so you should: watch a video teaching you about that language before you plait your hair
mountains are easier to climb with a friend, so you can get someone to do it with you!
How to study
Get a good night’s sleep: A recent study found a positive relationship between students’ grades and how much sleep they’re getting. However, this doesn’t only mean getting a full 8 hours of sleep before a big test. What matters, even more, is getting enough sleep for several nights before you do the bulk of your studying.
Switch up your study environment: Studies show that switching up your study environment can increase recall performance. Instead of studying at home every day, try checking out a new coffee spot each week or heading to your local library. A change in scenery can improve both your memory and concentration levels.
Stick with an environment that works: If you have a good space at home or a café that is reliably a productive place for you, it makes sense to stick with this when you are under pressure.
Listen to calming music: You can listen to any music you like, but many agree that classical, instrumental, and lo-fi beats make good background music for studying and can actually help you pay attention to the task at hand. Songs with lyrics can be distracting.
Eliminate distractions: Eliminate distractions by silencing your phone and any annoying background noises such as the TV or radio. Make a pact with yourself to avoid checking social media until your study session is over.
Snack on smart food: Coffee and candy will give you a temporary boost, but then you’ll have a damn sugar crash. For energy that is more focused and sustainable, try healthy snacks such as edamame, apples, or nuts.
and most importantly!
grades and test scores =/= your value as a human being
aight nonnie, that is all, *mwah* i believe in you, i believe that your strong and wonderful and you can handle this, *hugs you (if youre ok w it)* please take care of yourself
dont forget to drink water, get some sleep, eat some food, and please take care of yourself!! have a nice day,
mod peppermint out B)
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hayleyarts · 4 years
Text
Broken Without You (Jasper Hale x OC) | chapter 1
Author’s note: Hello! i don’t normally post that many stories or much on here but I’ve been working on a Jasper Hale fan-fiction to try and redeem him and show my favourite cowboy vamp some love. Anyways, this story contains swears and will have some graphic scenes referring to mental health and past trauma. I’ll give more specific warnings where they apply. Also, each chapter is inspired by some music; so if you want to listen to that particular song while you read, you can but you don’t necessarily have to :)
Summary: Eleanor Rae lives in a town where there are seemingly no secrets, but what happens when a certain vampire takes an interest in her. She’ll soon find out she’s not the only one with secrets. Will he be able to put her broken pieces back together? Can she fix him in return?
Word count: 2334
Read Part 2 Here 
Track 01 - Eleanor Rigby by Alice Cooper
Forks, Washington; the rainiest town in the United States. The benefits of living in a rainy town is the fact that the forests nearby are some of the greenest you’ll ever see. The cons of living in a rainy town as small as this one is how there are no secrets; everyone knows everyone for the most part. Therefore, when people see me: Eleanor Rae, they immediately know my back story. Of course, you’re not from Forks, so how would you know who the hell I am, or what my story is. 
The Rae family, also known as my mother Cecilia and myself, lives in a small cottage on the edge of town. Our small, 2-bedroom place is just close enough to town to be considered still in Forks, but with the town being so small, you’re simply ten minutes from all needed amenities. One such amenity is the hospital that my mother works at and the high school I’ve been attending for 2 years. At school I’m known as the strange girl with headphones glued to their head. Everyone has stopped trying to talk with me and try to become my friend, because I’m just ‘too weird’. Outcasts in small towns are rare; no secrets are allowed. Thus, why I envied the Cullen family. 
The Cullen’s were a family that became the talk of the town since freshman year of high school mostly because they broke the unwritten rule of small towns; they had secrets. No one knew what these secrets were, but everyone knew there was something they were hiding. The patriarch was the best doctor Forks has ever seen; Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He and his wife manage to take care of six adopted teenage kids; who in their right mind would do that to themselves? Their kids are a completely different anomaly. Even though they are all adoptive siblings, they happen to look extremely similar; blemish free complexion, model-like beauty, and this sense of grace that normal teenagers definitely don’t have. The thing that bothers me the most is that after a year or so, everyone stopped paying close attention to the strange family, but I didn’t. I mean, it’s hard not to when they’re all so beautiful, especially the brother with the wavy golden hair that frames his face perfectly. He was the one I was the most drawn to, and I don’t really know why. There was something about his presence that calmed me; God I wanted to talk to him. But how does one speak to someone as gorgeous as Jasper Cullen? 
I climb out of my Jeep, my feet planting on the cement of the parking lot. I look up at the building, sighing softly to myself; Junior Year of high school. A lot of people tend to stress about senior year, but to me, junior year is the one that matters. You need to figure yourself out because next year you’re applying for colleges. If you don’t have yourself figured out before senior year, then you’re royally fucked. I take my time to cross the lot before entering the school; the white tiled floor already scuffed from the various footwear. The lockers remained the same, even some of the posters on the walls were the same. The only thing that really seems to change is the people; some with different haircuts or new clothing. Different people smiling and laughing with new friend groups, some people missing because they moved during the summer. Growth spurts from the now sophomores, and then the completely new group of people that no one from the older grades recognized; the new freshmen. The one thing that stayed the same among the students, is no matter how much they laughed and joked with their friends; at the end of the day, we’re all lonely people. 
I follow the flow of people as I make my way to my first class of the day: history. I always dreaded history class because of the teachers that usually instruct the class. Why is it that every boring and/or almost ready to retire man teaches history class? If someone exciting taught the class, I might actually like it more. I arrive to the room, flags of various countries littered over the open door and students were already finding their seats. Luckily the seat in the far back corner by the window was vacant; that’s where I always try to sit. I like that seat because its far enough back that if you doze off in class no one really notices, and if you want to zone out rather than listen to the teacher, then you have the window to stare out of. 
Once I sit down, I take the time to pull my supplies out of my bag. All I tend to use is a notebook and pens while everyone else pulls out tablets and laptops; call me old-fashioned. I flip to a fresh page in the notebook when a voice pulls me away from my task. The accent clearly southern and extremely polite.
“Excuse me ma’am, is anyone sitting here?” I look up and I’m immediately met with the eyes that resemble the most expensive topaz gems; glittering underneath the fluorescent lights. He raises a brow as he gestures to the desk adjacent to me, “Ma’am?”
“Yeah… sorry,” I blush, snapping out of my daze, “There’s no one sitting there, go ahead.” He smiles at my answer as he makes himself comfortable, or well, as comfortable you can on a plastic chair. He pulls out his own notebook and pens, preparing for the class that’s about to begin. I couldn’t help myself from admiring his movements. His pale hands move with more grace than I could ever; placing the pens gently down on the wood of the desk, making sure they were ready when needed to take notes. My eyes didn’t stop there; they wandered from his hands to his choice of clothing. It’s not every day you get to sit this close to a member of the Cullen family, I plan on taking advantage of this rare moment. His clothing was simple but coordinated; his grey sweater with brown buttons matching the brown colouring of his dress pants. The one thing that stood out was his choice of footwear: cowboy boots. They were legitimate brown and black leather cowboy boots, and damn did they look worn in. 
I snap my eyes away from him before he could notice my staring, paying my attention back to the rain falling outside. Its then when Mr. Henderson stomps in the room and slams his folder down on his desk. He seemed about as thrilled about the first day of school as everyone else in this room. He began his lecture the same as every other first day lecture; the expectations of the class, the policies and rules and what he expects from us as students in his class. This isn’t what I dislike about the first day of school, what I hate are the icebreaker activities that the teachers force you to partake in.
“Okay class, for the rest of the period I’m going to have you and someone next to you discuss the answers to these various questions.” His monotone voice explains while handing out a worksheet covered in various questions. Students quickly pair off, some actually participating in the exercise while others begin discussing what they did during the summer. 
“Would you like to be my partner?”
I raise a brow at the southern voice breaking my observations, “What?”
“For the exercise?” He mimics my expression.
“Right… sure.” I blush, chuckling awkwardly.
“I’m Jasper, by the way. Jasper Hale.” He smiles politely.
“Hale?”
He chuckles, “Yeah, my sister Rosalie and I kept our last names.” 
I nod, taking in the new information. I had no idea that he had a different last name. I always assumed that because they were adopted by Dr. Cullen, they all had the same last name. 
“I’m Eleanor… Eleanor Rae.” I smile, turning to face him, “But my mom calls me Ellie.”
“What do your friends call you?” He raises a brow.
“Um… I guess Ellie?” I shrug, “I don’t really have any friends.” I look down at the worksheet, reading through the questions. Most of them were related to history class, some were about life goals, and school related questions. 
“You don’t have friends?” I glance up at him as he asks his question, his brows furrowed. 
“Not really. I like to be in my own little world I guess.” I shrug, “Kind-of similar to your family in that way.”
“How is that similar to my family?” 
“Well, you and your family keep to themselves, so do I.” 
He chuckles, shrugging, “I suppose,” He looks down at the questions, reading the first one off, “What are your goals for after school?”
“Um…” I furrow my brows thinking about the question. What are my plans? I haven’t really started thinking about where exactly I’ll be in roughly two years; after graduation and when I’m supposed to have my life figured out. I hope one of my goals for after I graduate would to attend college and take classes in psychology or philosophy; wanting to learn more about myself in the process. Another goal I eventually want to accomplish is leaving this small town; starting a new life in a new town where no one knows who I am, maybe take some time off and travel the world. Of course, I don’t say any of this to him, instead I respond with, “Probably go to college or something. Get good grades, you know?”
He nods, “That’s what the teachers want us to say.” His face slowly forms a smirk, “I feel like there’s more you want to say.”
I roll my eyes, my own face phasing into a smirk, “Maybe,” I lean closer to him, “But I’d like to hear your answer first.”
He chuckles, “Well, one of my goals is to settle down eventually. Find someone who understands me.”
I blink, “How romantic.” I reply sarcastically with a chuckle. 
“Don’t judge darlin’.” He chuckles along with me. His pet-name catches me off guard, the southern drawl dripping from the word, “Now, give me your real answer.”
“Well I’d love to travel, and maybe start a new life somewhere.” I shrug, “Some place where no one knows everyone else.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. 
“And you judged my answer.” He raises a brow playfully as I blush. 
“Well, both of our answers were cheesy,” I glance back down to the paper with a sigh, “These questions are also lame and cheesy.”
“Then let’s make our own questions.” He retorts, “What…” he pauses to think then continues his question, “What is your favourite movie?”
“Really?”
Jasper laughs, “It’s a valid question. Mine is Pride and Prejudice. Either that or The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.”
I chuckle, thinking about his answers. They’re both older movies, and one an even older novel. To be honest, those movies seem to match him perfectly. He seems like a gentleman kind of guy, and extremely old fashioned in his mannerisms and in the way he speaks. Not only that, but the western matches his god-awful cowboy boots. 
“Well, probably Jaws or The Breakfast Club.” I shrug, “I’ve seen both of them too many times to count so they’re probably my favourites.”
He nods at my response, “Both excellent movies. Very different though.”
I blink, “Well, your mood changes therefore the things you enjoy watching or listening to at any given moment doesn’t necessarily stay the same.” 
He narrows his eyes at my words. It was like he was surprised by my answer, and that he knew something I didn’t know. He didn’t say anything to my answer, but I could tell he wanted to. He fell silent as the class continues to have their various discussions; his golden eyes shifting from group to group. 
“What’s your favourite colour?” His eyes snap back to me at my question.
“It changes all the time.” He smirks, his answer mimicking mine from previously.
“Well what is it today?” I smirk back, raising a brow. I watch as his eyes look around the room, as if to find the answer throughout the room.
After what feels like hours, his eyes finally land on my own, “Probably green.” I blush, looking away from him, letting my dark hair fall in front of my green hued eyes. I didn’t know why he was trying to flirt with me, I mean… I’m me. Why on earth would Jasper Cull–Hale want anything to do with me? “What’s your favourite?” He tries to get me to look back at him. 
“Red or burgundy.” I mumble, glancing up at the clock; only five more minutes of class left, and, in this moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted these last five minutes to last forever, or be finished in seconds. Jasper makes me feel differently and I’m not sure if I can pin-point why. 
“Why those?” He raises a brow. I’ve never pondered why I liked the warm colour before. Maybe it was because it symbolized various emotions like passion, love or anger. Maybe I liked the colour red because when I wear red garments of clothing, it complements my pale complexion well. Or maybe it’s because it reminds me of the red flowers in my mother’s garden outside our cottage home; roses, dahlias, and peonies planted in various patterns.  
When the bell rang, signalling the end of class, I only then realized that I didn’t answer the question; thinking of an answer quickly as I gather my supplies so I could move to my next class in my schedule, “Probably because it’s familiar.” I mumble as I leave the class. I only take a moment to glance back at him momentarily; seeing his confused expression before I join the sea of other students in the hallway.
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geirskogull · 3 years
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Empty Mirror and Empty Grave 
+ Notes: A Short Vampire the Masquerade AU for Danica and Alex, This is Chapter 1 of 4 for this series, from the point of view of the newly embraced Lasombra Alexander Voss for this first chapter. 
Chapter 1 - The Same Deep Water as You
Archive Link
Icy water splashed hard against an even cooler face, a shaky exhale followed as the water pooled a tepid rusty pink in the ceramic bowl of the sink. Strange, what living habits clung to a dead man’s body, like memories fused to him with glue that spurned him to tears, yet twisted the salty brine that would have flowed from his eyes to a sickly vital red. 
Alexander thought then that  he should be laughing. That he should be cackling in victory over those who attempted to see him for their own personal gain, his father, his grandfather, this new vampiric patron who called himself sire. Yet his mind recognized in this end he was once again the true victim, but neither his mind nor his heart could contort the man’s memories to make them spell that out for him. Stubborn as always. Just like his sister. 
If he hadn’t known of the particularities of this curse, his curse, he may have tried to rationalize the ashy smudge that greeted him instead of his own tired, gauntface in the mirror. It would have been in vain, as  he knew better, he knew mirrors didn’t break like that. Hell he probably would have spent hours trying to scrub clean imaginary grime just to see his dead mossy green eyes. He always thought the color of rot suited him. Beyond that mournful rumination though, he also knew without his reflection, he looked a right mess if his sire, that figure of ruthlessness and shadows he met only a handful of times, counting his own death, saw him like this his new eternity would be over before it even began. 
So he returned to those empty habits he had once relied upon so much, inhaled deeply, straightened his shoulders, and ran cold hands across his face to remove the bloody tears tracks that dug their way there as best as he could with a smudgy mess as his guide. Another splash of water just in case, and another for good measure, and then a third till the pool was clear and he was sure the relics of his weakness swirled  down the drain, relics of shame he would never share. If he is to live forever, he would not allow it to be in vain.
“What do you want with me?” Terse words from an estranged sister echoed through his memory as he dried his face. “Arn’t you afraid dear old dad’ll axe you too, Alex?” She had hissed across a tiny café table that was more splinters held together with gorilla glue than actual wood then. Cross legged, angry and closed off, as he expected, but with sharp green eyes and new scars he didn’t remember being there last time he saw her. Those five years had changed them both so much. Then, he wondered if there was still anything left to save, left to salvage of their friendship. 
He laughed then, a bitter biting thing that painted fear across his twin sister’s face, only to be replaced with  sadness once its teeth were fully in her skin. A heavy silence hung around them in it’s wake, as if his cooling tea and her hot chocolate turned glorified chocolate milk were iron weights around their legs, dragging them to the ocean floor. 
He threw a clean black dress shirt over his shoulders and began to button it. Blinking away fresh bloody tears that threatened to spill over his still damp cheeks and the bittersweet memory in equal measure. As the visage of her hand reaching across that rough wooden sea to grasp his own terrified digits swelled in his minds, he paused.
“I’ve missed you so much, Dee.” Whispered words repeated from those recollections to nothing but the cold empty air around him. He dug his teeth into his lips, for he feared he was on the verge of sobbing once more. Once was more than enough for a night, thank you.
Oh if only he hadn’t traveled to this damn city on the guise of looking for school,only to actually be looking for her. If only he had taken the token acceptances thrown his way by those big name medical schools, all thanks to their father’s well placed donations and not in any way thanks to the intellect he believed he had. If only he hadn’t spent every cent he earned  on his own looking for his best friend that had been chased from their childhood by the bastard that sired them both, guilty only of the crime of dreaming. 
Perhaps then, they would still be truly alive. 
And not one unbreathing corpse masquerading as a living man, and the other... 
He dabbed a cold hand against his eyes, fearing the weakness of his resolve. Now is not the time to reflect, Alexander. He chastised himself bitterly, his own tone harsh. And even if it was, what would she think, seeing you now? Seeing you like this? A broken shell of a broken shell, huddling in his home not even willing to try this new gift out.
She’d tell him to relax, to lighten up. She’d ask about his class work and bring one of the animals she was fostering to sit on his lap. That’s how he ended up with Minet, wasn’t it? A loud meow near his feet confirmed his idle musings. Red eyes looking down into one cat-like yellow one, upon  a sea of black fur interrupted only by a terribly gaudy red collar and its pretty little bell. 
The vampire sniffled, kneeling down and giving the kitten a faint but honest grin. Ah his dear little constant. He found himself drawing his cold hands through soft fur and humming gently as the small cat began to purr. 
“Ah, so deep in my melancholy I forgot the most important job in my days!” A chuckle echoed in the cool air, and was answered by another dignified meow.  “Yes, yes, I know. Food is late, let’s go my dear one.”
“He’s friendly Alex, I promise.” Danica chuckled, her sing songy voice not exactly inspiring confidence, as she held a  small black bundle of fur and claws close to her chest. He hadn’t even looked up then, far too stressed out over his classwork, a med student more anxiety and coffee than flesh and blood at the present. He had more in common with the scattered cups of the stuff over his sisters home that he did her at the moment. \
“Last time I checked, tiny felines were not a requirement for me to pass my finals.” He had snipped up at her then, only to be met in turn with a very loud, very squeaky, and most definitely disappointed meow. Thankfully it was jarring enough to force the crooked man to right his posture and gaze at the single defiant eye of the feline now held ungracefully out towards him. 
"It's not, but it'll be good for what remains of you after said finals big brother"
"I'm only like two minutes older , Dee."
"And that's the first time you haven't lorded it over me, now hold the damn cat and relax Alex."
The loud, metallic jingle of kibble into a custom red bowl, the same shade as that tacky collar,  rescued the dead man from the clutches of his memories once more. Following suit was a very content and loud purr from the aforementioned Minet, King of the Flat, as he completely forgot about Alexander, Owner of the Flat, and dove straight into his food with a vigor he showed little else. Another shakey, yet unneeded, exhale left the vampire. This time at least sounding something akin to a weak  wheezy chuckle and not a barely restrained sob. 
Good kitty. 
Very good kitty.
Alexander Voss gave the fluffy menace a few polite yet ignored pats before standing and facing his evening once again. He did have orders after all, and what else had he been his entire life but a loyal, dutiful, gopher for his father and his father’s goals. Why would that change in death? 
The comedy was not lost on him, given the orders this time were “Go, enjoy yourself for a night.” As if he even knew where to start! A bitter laugh erupted from him, consuming the silence of the apartment like a mad hungry flame. Lingering in the expanse of once pleasant memories, turning them to ash in his mouth, was definitely not a good start.
But he would not fail, not again. Not at any task.
So even with the added “difficulty” of not being able to see himself in the mirror, he silently swore to his reflection that he would forge himself anew of black shadowy steel. He would be a tool for himself, not for this new vampiric father he found himself beholden to, not for the visible ghosts of his  first victims and the invisible ghost of his sister, but for himself. A revolutionary statement in his mind that would take some getting used to, and a great deal of planning to accomplish.
With the weight of his memory as the ink upon the paper of his oath, and the cold wind beyond his door the dust sprinkled upon it, he now just needed to find the wax and the stamp and it would be eternal.. As he twisted the polished silver door handle of the apartment, he closed his eyes. A stillness taking him as he silently considered this new plan brewing in the blackness in his mind. 
He shoots a careful glance back at Minet over his shoulder as the cold winter wind knocked at his coat and mussed his long, unkempt ponytail. The one eyed feline, for his part, licked at his paws absently, full from his regal meal and oblivious to his servants troubles.
“I’ll be back.”
His words were largely ignored, but the flittering familiar shades at the edge of his vision seemed to nod, almost in approval. Strange from such stern faces, barely perceivable in the messed watercolor of their forms, but still uniquely themselves. 
Facing forward, he inhaled, the last act of his old dying world, and faced a new beginning.. A pang of thirst in his gut forced a strange wolfish smile upon his face, sharp toothed and hungry. First goal of the evening, of his first free night, find a drink.
He would need the energy for what he had planned.
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another-sonic-blog · 4 years
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When Disaster Strikes
Part 1 : Before Disaster Strikes
Link: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/617890070494642176/before-disaster-strikes
Situated between Sonic IDW Issue #11 & 12
Synopsis: After the Battle with Metal Sonic, Shadow went back home just to find out that his Chaos Emerald was stolen. This gets Amy's interest and she decides to help the black hedgehog. Will Amy and Shadow's friendship develop?
ShadAmy (Platonic, but can be romantic if you want lol)
6k
When Disaster Strikes
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The Restoration Headquarters was everything but a quiet place. Members of the organization went in and out of the building sometimes running and others screaming. It was a place were world heroes came to meet whenever the world was in danger. The rookies always hoped to see a sneak peek of their idols, maybe Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles. Although it was still unbelievable to them that Amy Rose was with them most of the time.
After Metal Sonic was defeated, Amy didn't doubt on going back to work.  
It was a bit stressful but the need to help others was greater than the need to rest.
The day was lively just like any other summer day and the members were running around doing errands, carrying papers and boxes. Some of them even had to do solo missions and help a village in need. Amy was up and down giving, planning, and executing orders.
Our pink hedgehog was looking down at a map, trying to plant out their next move. The Restoration wanted to provide food supplies to a nearby village but it was getting complicated due that this village was remotely placed on a mountain. Thus, making it complicated to transport supplies.
"Ms.Rose, you have a call coming from Floral Forest Village,"
Suddenly, Lanolin stood in front of Amy holding a phone on her right hand as her left hand covered the speaker. Amy's mind immediately went to Cream and Vanilla as she knew that they lived there. She didn't even think about it for a second, she extended her hand as Lanolin handed her the phone. Praying to Chaos that it wasn't bad news, the pink hedgehog answered the call.
.
.
.
Floral Forest Village was known for its beautiful and extensive categories of flowers and wild animals. Scientists from all over Mobius came to this village to experience the natural scenery of the place. With only 1500 Mobians living in the village, it was a perfect place to live for someone who wanted a quiet life.
Until now.
Amy rarely went outside the Restoration because she always thought she was needed there to keep order. However, she allowed herself to go out once in a while on a special occasion. Today, it was one of those occasions because Shadow the Hedgehog decided to keep everyone locked in the village's town hall.
The pink one wanted to give the black one the benefit of the doubt. Last time she saw Shadow they ended in good terms. He even said that he would visit her at the Restoration but he never did. It must have been because he was busy doing his own thing, besides she saw him when she called everyone due to Metal Sonic's attack. She was busy and couldn't say her greetings, Amy wanted to talk to him after the battle with Metal Sonic but to her no-surprise, he left without saying goodbyes.
It was strange now, she didn't know in what terms they were but the only thing she was sure about is that she needed to talk to Shadow before jumping to any conclusions.
When she arrived she wasn't surprised to see no one in Floral Forest Village. She ran as fast as she could to the town-hall. The biggest building in the village.
It was a three-story building, navy blue painted on the outside walls and windows decorated the outside. Amy tried to open the double door entrance but it was locked. Not like it surprised her and it wasn't like this was a difficulty. She snapped her fingers and her hammer appeared in her hands, it took only one hit for the doors to smack open.
Finally, she was in. Her eyes landed on the scared villagers who were all quietly sitting down on the floor, in rows. They were terrified but hope-filled their eyes as soon as she walked in. It didn't take long for the guy who was behind this to appear. Using Chaos Control, Shadow appeared at the back of Amy. She had to admit that she would be just as scared as the villagers if it wasn't because she actually knew Shadow ... to an extent.
"In the name of Chaos, what do you think you are doing?"
Her eyes encountered vermillion ones, the ones she liked deeply and even admired. She wasn't backing down, opposite from it actually. The pink one got closer to Shadow, her chest almost touching his but the black one didn't even flinch at the act.
"I need to keep these people here,"
After a few seconds of intense stares, Shadow decided to speak in the most serious tone she has ever heard so far. "Someone in here stole the Chaos Emerald I was hiding and no one is getting out until they return it."
There were a lot of questions that popped in Amy's head. However, logic was triumphant on her mind. Amy backed away slowly and looked at the villagers who were intensely looking at their brawl.
"You can't keep them here, whatever the reason is ..." Amy looked back at Shadow who stood quiet. She knew that his stubbornness was one of his main traits and it was going to be hard to go against that. "The only thing you are accomplishing is to scare them ... They won't tell you anything unless they trust you."
"I need that Chaos Emerald, it can be dangerous if it falls in the wrong hands," Shadow replied.
"I understand that, but you are not thinking logically ... Do you really think you can keep 1500 people in here? What if they start to get hungry? How are you going to feed them all?"
If Shadow was being honest, he didn't think about that. Since eating wasn't a necessity for him. He had forgotten that food was a necessary element for the survival of the regular Mobian. Shadow let out a sigh as he placed a hand to his forehead, showing his frustration. After a few seconds passed without a word being shared, Amy spoke once again.
"I'll help you find the person who stole your Chaos Emerald ... I promise, just let them out of here, please."
As if Amy had done a spell on him. Shadow only nodded and Amy gave him a reassuring smile.
"Alright, everyone out!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, the Villagers stood up from the floor and began to exist the town-hall. There was not a single one who didn't thank Amy on their way out. As well that every single one of them gave Shadow either a judging or scared look. He felt the stares of them pierce through him. Even when he tried to not think about it, a part of him did.
Amy just couldn't stop the feeling in her heart that told her that she needed to protect the black hedgehog. There was just something about him ... his eyes, his stance ... He just looks as lost as the moment she first met him.
"Miss Amy!"
A young voice, which the pink one recognized, happily made her way through to meet her pink friend. It was Cream and Vanilla, her mother, follow closely.
"Thank you for coming, Miss Amy!" without thinking the soft orange rabbit hugged her and although the action took Amy by surprise, it didn't take her long to return the gesture.
"It's nothing, taking you for calling me," Amy said as she bent down to look at Cream at an eye level.
"Now, that you are here, would you like to stay for dinner?" Cream asked as she twirled around happy to see her friend. She got closer to Amy and in her ear, she whispered, "You can even bring Mr. Shadow."
Amy let out a giggle as she nodded and patted her head. The pink one stood up and looked at Cream's beautiful mother. "I hope I am not intruding."
"Of course not, we love to have you over," Vanilla said.
"I'll be there, I just need to finish somethings first with Shads right here,"
At the mention of his nickname, Shadow felt a shiver run down his spine. He had been watching the pink one interact with the rabbit from afar. Shadow did not take any interest until Amy mentioned him.
"We will wait for you then,"
With that said, Vanilla and Cream exit the building. Happy that their day could continue without any more interruptions.
"Thank you for letting us out Mr. Shadow!"
The black hedgehog snapped his head at the orange rabbit. He watched her smile and wave her small hand at him. No show of remorse nor hatred on her face. Shadow looked away immediately, not knowing how to react as Cream and Vanilla disappeared out of sight.
Teasingly, Amy approached him, a smile decorated her face. There were many sides of Shadow that Amy found amusing. He was a bit awkward and didn't know how to properly communicate with others. Sometimes his actions may be seen as aggressions, but in all honesty, it was just his way to show that he cared.
"I am surprised you managed to get every single villager in here," Amy said. "Even the mayor and village officials."
"It was easy, they just look at me and they run away," Shadow said. He rolled his eyes still a bit annoyed that he let Amy get through him. "It would have been easier if I had questioned everyone ... Someone must know what happened to my Chaos Emerald."
"No, you were going to scare them and they wouldn't tell you anything."
The red stripped hedgehog rolled his eyes. Mentally, he knew that she was right but was he ever going to admit that out loud? No.
A few seconds passed where there was just silence. An awkward atmosphere overtook the place and it was something that Amy couldn't stand.
"Why are you here?" Shadow asked.
"Cream called me-"
"I mean, why didn't you send Rouge, Omega, or someone else? Why did you personally come?"
Amy wasn't expecting that question. How was she possed to respond? A part of her was telling her that Shadow was expecting a good answer. Like a deep, emotional answer.
"I didn't think it was necessary."
Damn it, Amy, that's not a good answer.
"I mean, they were busy ... Everyone is and I just didn't want to bother them ... So, that's why I came."
Mentally cursing, Amy found herself to be struggling to find the correct words. There was something about Shadow that just made her nervous. Maybe it was his vermillion eyes that pierced to every part of her soul. Amy should have been used to Shadow's intense stare by now but for some reason, the rosette one felt that she was trapped.
"Then leave now, I'll find the Chaos Emerald by myself-"
"Yeah, that's not going to happen, I'll help you."
Finally, Amy felt herself go back to normal. Her preppy and happy go lucky personality shone the moment she felt Shadow's eyes soften on her. She began to walk towards the exit, ready to start an adventure with the black hedgehog.
Shadow sighed in annoyance, it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the help of the pink one. However, he always worked better alone ... or so he thought. "No, you will just make it worse, I don't need your help."
"Are you sure about that?"
Amy looked back at the black hedgehog and it was this time that Shadow was lost at words. The sunlight coming from the outside and inside the door landed on Amy. Her entire body was outlined with a golden aura, a few string of her quills were placed all over her head creating a small halo above her. A little bit of the sunlight entered on her pupils, making her green eyes twinkle and Shadow's heart skipped a beat. He realized that the green Chaos Emerald that was stolen from him would never compare to Amy's eyes.
Shadow looked away, trying to forget the unusual, strange thoughts on his mind. He had never seen Amy in that light, nor any other female. The feeling was strange to him and he definitely didn't like it. He tried to erase Amy's picture on his mind and he did, finally getting back to his senses. Mustering the strength to look at the pink hedgehog again, the black one just knew that there was no way to escape from Amy Rose. Just like she convinced him to stay for dinner that day at the village. Even made him eat that soup she made and talk on the rooftop of the village's town-hall ... He just couldn't say no to her.
"Just don't get in my way."
.
.
.
A small wooden cabin was placed in the middle of the forest where only if you look hard enough, you could find it.
It didn't take long for the pink one to realize that the cabin must be Shadow's home. After all, someone like Shadow would like to live in a place like this. It was quiet, beautiful, and very peaceful. It had a certain level of convenience as well because a few meters away, Floral Forest Village was at his disposition. For someone like Amy, it would have hard to find his place but she was sure that for someone like Shadow it was a piece of cake not getting lost in the vast forest.
"After the battle with Metal Sonic, I came back here," Shadow said. The rosette hedgehog was surprised that Shadow was even starting a conversation. She had thought that she was going to have to squeeze the answers out of him.
"The Chaos Emerald was hidden on a cube locker that only I can open ... It wasn't there when I checked."
"Any clues?" Amy asked as she looked at the wooden cabin in front of her. She had many questions going around her head. The first one was whether Shadow built the cabin himself or not. It looked very cozy and a part of her smile internally when an image of Shadow drinking hot cholate during a cold day popped in her mind. This was his home and she felt honored to an extent to be in such an intimate place fo him.
"Only one thing ... A small pair of glasses" said Shadow. "Everything else is clean ... There was no sign of struggle to get in nor to get out."
"Like teleportation."
"Exactly, so this person can either use a Chaos Emerald's power or something of those likes."
Shadow watched the pink one inspect his house, she walked around it. Her eyes never leaving the structure of it. A certain amusement was placed on her face and to an extent he understood her. After all, it wasn't every day he brought people over to see his house ... Not even Rouge nor Omega had come in.
"I know what to do ..." Amy said, she turned around and gave him one of her classic smiles. "We are going to camp tonight!"
.
.
.
There were many things about Amy Rose that intrigued Shadow the Hedgehog. However, it wasn't just her ... It was him as well. He reacted differently to her. At first, he thought that it was the fact that she was a female that he had a soft side for that. Nevertheless, he never treated Rouge like this. It may be the fact that Rouge was like an authority figure and the urge to defy her was strong. He still listed to her and admired her, but that sense of not listening to his 'elder sister' was there.
So, what was about Amy Rose that made Shadow, the Ultimate Life Form, bend the knee in such ways?
He didn't know what it was ... but he couldn't do anything about it at this point.
"Tell me why are we doing this again?"
It was dark already and the only thing illuminating the place was a bonfire that they had done earlier. From time to time the sound of crickets and nocturnal birds could be heard but both hedgehogs were comfortable about it.
"Whoever stole the Chaos Emerald was very careful about everything. No clues, no signs of struggle, not a single mistake was made ... but the small round glasses they forgot," Amy was sitting next to Shadow, not too close nor too far. They were nearby Shadow's house. The two hedgehogs were careful about not making too much noise nor the flame of the bonfire too big. The vast density of the trees around them made them almost invisible to the normal eye. Not only that but thanks to Shadow's good hearing abilities, he was able to tell if anyone approached his house.
"This person is very meticulous, obsessive even ... They will come back for the glasses and we will be here when they do."
Maybe this was why Shadow couldn't say no to the rosette hedgehog. She wasn't only taking time out of her busy schedule to help him but she genuinely seemed intrigued and concerned about the matter at hand. It was on Amy's nature to help anyone in need, out of the kindness of her heart. Maybe that was why Shadow is so attracted to her and complied with her requests and accepted her ideas even when they seemed a bit radical.
And she was trying her best to help him out.
"And that's why you should help them out! Helping them is a good thing!"
A strong pain came revolting through Shadow's head. Again, it was that sweet voice he wanted to remember but it pained him whenever he tried. He placed both of his hands on his forehead as if that would help with the immense pain he was feeling at the moment. Different images began to cross his mind ... The ARK, Sonic, Eggman, Rouge-
"Shadow are you alright?"
Amy
Shadow's head stopped hurting the moment his vermillion eyes met Amy's emerald ones. There was such concern on her face that Shadow even thought about apologizing for making her feel like that. However, the thought went away as soon as he realized that Amy was too close to him for his comfort. He looked away trying to hide the mixed feelings he was having. Shadow couldn't describe the feeling but he didn't like it ... but he didn't hate it either.
A few more seconds passed where Shadow mustered the strength to ask the question that has been floating around in his head.
"Rose ... Were you at the ARK?"
It was Amy's moment to be confused. More than that, Amy was panicking because she had sworn she had never talked to Shadow about it. About her making Shadow remember his promise to Maria. About her being the one to witness him cry and being vulnerable. About how she was one of the reasons he saved the world that day.
It was a secret she never wanted to share and she had her reasons.
"Why do you ask?" the pink one mentally thanked Chaos for not stumbling on her words. She didn't know that even if she were to stutter, Shadow wouldn't even notice. He was too concentrated at her being so close, her shoulder almost touching his.
"I just remembered ... I think I saw you that day at the ARK," Shadow said, getting the strength to look at her in the eyes. "Were you there?"
"I ... No, I-"
"Please ... Don't lie to me."
Amy gulped a little but still, her mouth felt dry. Shadow's red eyes shone even more brightly as the flames of the bonfire reflected light upon them. Almost too mesmerizing to get lost in them forever. However, a certain sadness was predominant in them. Regret, pain, betrayal ... Lies ... Amy could tell that Shadow was tired of all of that.
"Yes, I was there," Amy said.
"Did we ever ... talk?"
She just couldn't do it. Amy had only interacted with Shadow a few times but she could already tell so much about him.
If Shadow knows that she was the one that made him remember his promise and because of that he saved the world ... Would he feel less? As far as Amy knows, Shadow believes that he saved the world out of the kindness of his heart. Because he wanted, not because of a promise he remembered.
Shadow wasn't one to give himself enough credit. Yes, he would say he was The Ultimate Lifeform whenever he could but that was just a facade. Shadow felt the judging stares of others on him, the hate glances, the scared looks.
The black hedgehog never did anything to clean up his name because even after saving the world multiple times ... He still believes he is the monster people make him to be.
"No, we didn't talk," the rosette replied. She just couldn't take away one of Shadow's greatest relief. If Shadow ever finds out that Amy made him remember Maria's promise, then he would credit her. Amy didn't want that, she wanted all credit to go to Shadow. The world was saved because of his sacrifice and only that and Amy was going to make sure he believes that till the end.
"I went there to follow Sonic, you must have seen me with him."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Shadow was faced with another question.
"You always follow him don't you?"
A few seconds passed in which the cracking of the wood of the bonfire could only be heard. Shadow mentally cursed as he didn't plan to ask that question out loud.
"Well, I used to. Not so much now ... But, I still love him a lot!.."
To his surprise, Amy wasn't angry. All the contrary, there was a certain sparkle in her eyes indicating that she was happy.
"Why?"
"Sonic is free to do whatever he wants and so do I ... He values his freedom and I appreciate that."
"Doesn't that make you sad?"
Shadow didn't have the slightest idea as to why he was asking her these questions or why he was concerned about her love life. Maybe it wasn't her love life at all, but her feelings that intrigued him.
"No, I love everything about Sonic," Amy said as a warm smile decorated her eyes. "I love the way he is free as the wind, his confidence, his flaws, his quirks. I even love the way he runs away from me from time to time ... I love him regardless of everything. Even if he ever loves another, it doesn't matter. I love him unconditionally."
There was something about Amy that Shadow just couldn't get enough of. The way her eyes sparkle, the way her face shone and the soft blush that landed on her face. He was never one to care about love, he didn't think about it either ... until now.
Maybe this was the thing that attracted him to her. Amy knew something and did something he never could. To love.
Shadow didn't believe he is capable of loving someone as Amy does. The subject was a mystery to him, an unknown topic ... It did intrigue him.
And Amy was the one who knew about it all.
"I wonder what that it's like ... to love and be loved unconditionally." One again, Shadow said that without thinking. Nonetheless, he felt safe with Amy. He knew that no matter how stupid the question is, or how pathetic he looks, Amy won't judge him. She won't tease him either. Amy made him feel like he could be vulnerable in front of her once in a while.
"I love you unconditionally too Shadow!"
Her words came to Shadow like lighting. What surprised him the most was Amy's confident face. Not even for a second, she doubted herself.
Without having anything to say and watching that Shadow was at a loss of words, Amy proceeded.
"There are different types of love not only romantic and all of them are equally important," she said. "You can be rude at times, arrogant, and insecure ... But you are also loyal, determined, selfless, you put others before you and I love all of that about you. You are my friend even if you don't consider me as one ... I'll keep loving you regardless and I'll do anything for you. My love for you it's unconditional too!"
There were no words to describe what Shadow was feeling at the moment. He hasn't felt like this in a very ... A very long time. His heartbeat raised, adrenaline going through his veins and his fur shriveled. Was this happiness? A part of his heart shrieked when he remembered past thoughts. The thoughts that told him that Amy was annoying and childish. He regretted ever thinking like that about such a kind-hearted girl. Shadow knew he didn't deserve her in his life but from now on he would do anything to keep her by his side.
A peaceful moment was shared between the two where they didn't say anything but only stared at each other with fondness.
Amy smiled at her companion, once again breaking the sweet silence between the two.
"Maybe, one day you will love me unconditionally too."
There was no question about it. Nor it was hard to understand for the black hedgehog. If he could choose who to love then it would be Amy. Maybe, if his heart ever desired he could love Amy the way she loves Sonic. There won't be any protest, no contradiction, he will follow his heart and let the rosette hedgehog take over it.
But it wasn't that type of love now. At this moment, he only wanted to appreciate her person, her being. To enjoy the unconditional friendship she was offering and accept it.
And that type of love, he could give back.
"Yes ... I would like that very much."
.
.
.
It has been a while since Shadow got a night of proper sleep. After all, he didn't need it to survive, the black hedgehog could go for three weeks without sleep and then we would start to feel the after-effects. The scenario was strange for him as well because he just doesn't remember when he fell asleep.
And he definitely didn't remember Amy falling asleep on his shoulder. Heck, he doesn't even remember until what time they stopped talking nor when they stopped caring about the issue at hand.
The bonfire they had started last night was reduced to ashes, the black hedgehog felt Amy trembling from time to time once again a feeling of guilt overtook him. He had forgotten that Amy was a normal Mobian and like such, it was easy for her to get cold. A thought of wrapping his arm around her and bring her closer to him crossed Shadow's mind. However, the thought quickly went away. It would be better for her health to wake up and get her body moving.
Shadow tapped on her shoulder delicately and it didn't take long for Amy's green eyes to outshine the morning's sun. Vermillion and emerald eyes stared at each other, lost in each other's colorful pools. Nonetheless, it took a few seconds for Amy to realized what happened.
"Shadow ... we fell asleep!"
"Yeah, no joke."
Amy stood up from the cold grass, patting the dust away from her red dress. She regrets wearing this dress in such cold weather but to be honest she didn't have any idea she was going to stay. "We didn't even check if the guy who stole the Chaos Emerald came back!"
Another thought crossed Amy's mind. She had been so engrossed in helping Shadow that she had forgotten that yesterday she was going to go to Cream's house for dinner.
"Chaos, I forgot yesterday I was going to have dinner at Cream's house! You must be worried about me." The rosette hedgehog walked around in circles to keep her warm and to release a bit of anxiety due to the situation at hand.
"I am going to go to Cream's home and then I'll come back! I promise we will find that Chaos Emerald! Have you checked if the person picked up the glasses we left at your house-"
Shadow sighed at Amy's reaction. She was getting very worked up and it was comical even to see her determination in helping him. He stopped her midtrack as he placed his right hand on her shoulder, even the gesture was surprising to him. The black hedgehog was being very delicate with the pink one.
"It doesn't matter,"
Amy saw a change in Shadow's voice. It was soft and fragile as if he wanted to reassure her. She listened carefully not wanting to forget his words.
"Yesterday, you taught me there are more important things than a Chaos Emerald."
.
.
.
It was an extremely busy day at the Restoration HQ. With the recent outbreak of the Zombot Virus, many cities were on the verge of collapsing if they weren't already. It was even worse because the hero of Mobius, Sonic the Hedgehog was also infected with the virus.
Amy noticed that her blue love was indeed tired and she was scared that he might make a mistake that can cost him his life.
"Rose?"
The pink hedgehog turned around to face the red striped one. They were currently at the Restoration's Main Room, planing on the rescue of Sunset City.
Shadow walked towards Amy. He was concerned about her lack of self-care. He had noticed that Amy was getting tired and even looked sick. She wasn't eating, nor sleeping, always working. Of course, he knew that this wasn't healthy for the regular Mobian.
"Do you need my help?"
Amy and Shadow had grown closer after that night at Floral Forest Village. They were good friends and Shadow wasn't shy to visit her at the Restoration HQ. It warmed the pink one's heart to see that her friend was trying his best to keep a relationship with her.
"Yes ..." Amy made a pause. "Sunset City has been attacked by the Zombot virus ... Sonic is there helping uninfected civilians get out of the city safely ... Will you and Team Dark help him?"
If there was one thing Shadow couldn't do was to say no to his pink friend. He still wanted to help regardless but what he didn't want was to encounter the blue blur. It was because of Sonic that Amy was looking like this ... Like she was ready to faint at any second now. Maybe he could take this opportunity to punch him or make him apologize to her and to everyone but knowing the blue one, that was far from happening.
"I am sorry,"
The words caught Amy by surprise. She was expecting anything but that. Speechless, Shadow continued.
"If I hadn't let Sonic convince me to let the Doctor live ... We wouldn't be in this situation ... You wouldn't be so tired," Shadow looked down to the floor.
The dark hedgehog knew that part of the current situation was his fault as well. He felt that his hands were equally tainted as Sonic's. Although anger was the only way he could show that he felt guilty at the moment, Shadow was unable to show that side to Amy.
"It's not your fault, nor Sonic's,"
Amy placed a hand on Shadow's chin and picked up his head, making him look up to her eyes. "This is just a bad dream ... I know you and Sonic won't let us down and you will resolve everything ... Just like you always do."
Instantly, Shadow grabbed Amy's hand. Softly holding it with both of his. Although the action caught the pink hedgehog by surprise, she didn't pull away. Shadow was more and more open to her now and she appreciated it.
"I only have a favor to ask in return," Shadow said. "When I come back ... You have to tell me everything that happened in the ARK."
"But, I already told you everything-"
"No, I know you haven't told me everything ... You are a horrible liar."
Amy was caught red-handed but the pink one now knew that there was no way to escape. Although she had tried to keep what happened between them at the ARK a secret as long as she could, she should have known that Shadow was very perceptive.
As well as that the black hedgehog had learned Amy's small little details. Her ears would lower and she would look around the room nervously whenever she lied.
There was no way to escape Shadow and if he was the one who wanted the truth, who was Amy to prevent him from getting it?
But it wasn't only the truth. It was the unintended promise that was made between the two without realizing it.
"I promise to tell you everything when you come back," Amy said.
Shadow smirked, letting go of the rosette's hand already missing her touch. "I'll be on my way then, I'll tell Rouge and Omega."
Amy nodded, a sort of reminiscent feeling overtook her. As she felt that she had live through this already, she almost did not want to let him go. The pink hedgehog watched Shadow walk away and almost like an instinct, she raised her voice.
"Don't you dare do something reckless and get infected," Amy's voice almost cracked at the thought of her new and dear friend being at the mercy of the virus. "Sonic got infected ... If you were to get infected too ... I don't think I will be able to handle it."
"I am the Ultimate Life Form, I won't get infected," Shadow said. His voice was monotone but in all honesty, everything he wanted to do was to reassure her.
"This could be different ... Sonic runs to keep the virus from fully infecting him, do that in case you get infected." Amy said. "Be careful, if things get difficult, run."
"In case the situation becomes difficult, I should prioritize the civilians over me and you should know that." Shadow turned around, appreciating Amy's green eyes. Something inside of him was telling him to take his time in appreciating her features, everything. Because it would be a long time for him to see her again.
Amy let out a defeated sigh and then she smiled again at her friend.
"You know what is one of the things I like about you?"
Shadow shook his head, curiosity getting the best of him.
"That even when things get hard, you don't run away from your problems."  
They just didn't want to let go of each other. They had been friends for a short amount of time, but their bond was special and they just didn't want the moment to end just yet. Their heartbeats at the same rhythm and looking at Amy's face, Shadow doubted himself for the first time. There were many things he was insecure about but for Amy, he was willing to put that aside.
Appreciating her face one last time, Shadow smiled at her. He mentally promised to do the thing Amy liked about him.
"You know I don't run."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Finally, the second part of this short story. This wasn't meant to be romantic ShadAmy but just them trying to figure out each other and how they start to become friends and such. However, if you want to see it as romantic, feel free to do so. Until next time!
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kentthewolf · 3 years
Text
8 Steps: How To Do In 2 Hours, What Most Do In A Week
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Regardless if you work from home or commute to an office, many discover it can be a battle to focus, be productive, and finish every one of their assignments.
Since becoming a self-employed marketing specialist (on February 16th, 2020), I've constructed an effective full-time business, launched various side hustles, finished numerous enormous tasks for a few clients without a moment's delay, and worked far less than 40 hours per week while venturing and spending much more time with my family than I ever had before.
Yet, my secret isn't earplugs, espresso, "more self-control," or an enchanted time-management application. (Truth be told, I don't utilize one single efficiency apparatus by any stretch of the imagination.)
In this article, I'll show you the specific, exceptionally intense techniques that caused me to soar my efficiency and get magnificent outcomes without depending on “willpower”.
It's entirely conceivable and regardless of whether you're self-employed or an employee, these tips will help you as well.
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1. Stay away from productivity killers
Regularly, individuals attempt to help their efficiency by adding a wide range of assets:
Time management app, calendars, site blockers, productivity books, and so on
Yet, making an inadequate framework more proficient doesn't prompt greater productivity.
Before you add more, start by deducting things that kill your productivity.
It’s not the daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential. — Bruce Lee
Rule Number One: Never check your email or messages first thing in the morning.
55% of Americans check their email before they even go to work.
The problem with checking your emails or messages so early is that it puts people in a state of reaction: It fills their head with tasks, stressors, and mini-fires they need to put out before they even had a chance to do all their top priorities.
And since they see their emails before they’re at work, they can’t even do anything about it yet! So, it stays in the back of their mind all morning and they can’t be fully present.
(Later in this article, I’ll show you how to check your email in a more productive way.)
Rule Number Two: Limit all notifications.
Loads of individuals' phones are an interruption factory — with a wide range of alarms, messages, updates, and notification, it resembles having an infant in your pocket. 
However, it's unimaginable for you to focus like this. 
To start with, people are awful at performing various tasks. Regardless of how hard you attempt it, in the event that you get a notification like clockwork, you can't zero in well on the thing you're doing. 
Second, if a notification pulls you away from your work, when you return, you'll burn through a great deal of time as your mind has to readjust to what you were doing, and returns to a similar level of productivity before the interruption. (You lose throughout 23 minutes each time, really.)
Third, checking your notifications resembles a drug: 
Each time you check a message, email, alert, and so forth, your cerebrum discharges dopamine, a compound that causes us to feel better. 
In the long run, your body gets dependent on these chemicals and you begin wanting it — and the best way to fulfill that hankering is to check Gmail, Instagram, Facebook, and so forth 
An exceptionally basic arrangement is simply to set your phone on flight mode or "do not disturb" during explicit times, particularly toward the beginning of the day. 
For the individuals who need to take this to the next level, I energetically suggest disabling all unimportant notifications from all applications on your phone.
Rule Number Three: Don't sit in front of the TV, read the news, or check/utilize social media before anything else in the morning. 
Productivity is tied in with achieving your most elevated priorities, efficiently and effectively. (Take it from a marketing professional, who’s predominant chunk of work ties back to social media at some point)
Activities for your boss. Building your business. Making a side business. Composing the book you've for the longest time been itching to compose. Preparing for a long-distance race. Getting a degree. 
Odds are, be that as it may, your most elevated needs are not Instagram, messages, and viewing SportsCenter. 
The issue is, when individuals start the morning by consuming data, they haven't stepped toward their main objectives and they're as of now filling their brain with (generally) pointless, distracting stuff. 
None of it will assist them with achieving their greatest errands. Furthermore, more regrettable, things like the news cause individuals to feel more negative, stressed, and pessimistic, further influencing productivity. 
Yet, there's a reason behind why such a large amount of this is centered around your mornings…
2. Overcome the most important time of the day 
The secret to soaring your efficiency is exceptionally straightforward: 
Overcome the initial three hours after you awaken. 
This is the point at which you're generally innovative, engaged, ready, gainful, and stimulated. 
That is the reason it's essential to secure your mornings and try to benefit from those hours. 
Here's how:
To begin with, require a couple of moments at the very beginning of your day to do an amazing morning schedule. 
It may appear to be strange to invest energy in the first part of the day not to work, but rather to prepare yourself to work. However, I guarantee those couple of moments will change your productivity.
If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I’d spend the first six of them sharpening my axe. — Abraham Lincoln
A few plans to "sharpen your axe:"
Meditate. Go for a stroll. Eat healthy. Peruse something motivating. Compose your objectives on a handy-dandy journal. Stretch. And so forth
It doesn't need to be muddled (or long), however plan something to help you feel 100% prepared — mentally, physically, and emotionally — so you're engaged, inspired, focused, and driven.
At that point, when you begin working, you'll have a huge load of momentum to take out the entirety of your assignments.
Second, try not to settle on an excessive number of insignificant choices and, instead, do the same routine consistently.
That is really the mystery of world class level competitors/athletes:
They do the exact same ludicrously, exhausting, boring schedules throughout each and every day.
They eat the same healthy foods. They do the same exercises. They do the same warm-ups.
Once more, mornings are the point at which you are generally beneficial and focused. Try not to squander your psychological energy on minor choices. "What am I going to eat? What am I going to do? What am I going wear? Where am I going to go?"
In all actuality we just have a restricted measure of significant level for mental execution every day.
By doing the same things consistently, you can utilize that elevated level of cognitive energy on the things that matter since all the minor task of your day are on auto-pilot.
Third, accomplish extraordinary work.
After your morning routine, you may have somewhere close to 2–2.5 hours remaining from your initial three hours. That is the point at which you will accomplish your best work.
The remainder of this article will show you how.
3. Why you need to make teeny-tiny assignments
Many individuals think they battle to complete their assignments on account of laziness or an absence of willpower, inspiration, or determination.
In any case, frequently, the explanation is undeniably more straightforward!
For instance, somebody's plan for the day may resemble:
Compose blog article
Build a website
The genuine issue is each task is so overwhelming!
To compose a blog article or construct another site, it could take somewhere in the range of 3 to 30 hours!
Each errand is so huge and inconclusive, there's no foreordained length or approach to quantify its fulfillment — but to complete the entire damn thing. (I speak from experience; can’t you tell my frustration?)
Also, in the event that it winds up requiring 30 hours, it'll remain on your to do list for a few days, if not weeks.
Instead, break them into explicit, noteworthy errands that can be executed in less than 60 minutes.
For instance, rather than "compose a blog entry," it very well may be "compose an outline," "make a draft for the intro," "compose 10 ideas for the title," "compose 200 words," and so forth
These are explicit, significant, and quantifiable.
Much like with sweets, teeny-tiny is better:
With smaller tasks (ex. 20-minute long), you have certainty you can complete them. In any case, if your assignment is to assemble a site (which can require days, weeks, or months), the finish line might as well be in the North Pole.
When you make your errands "teeny-tiny," you'll finish a greater number of assignments in less time than previously. By observing yourself finish more things, you'll pick up momentum and certainty.
When you have a significant plan for the day, it's an ideal opportunity to orchestrate them the correct way…
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4. Prioritize like a pro
One of my most extraordinary lessons came from the "80/20 Rule."
Otherwise called the "Pareto Principle," it clarifies that about 80% of your output comes from about 20% of your input.
For productivity, that implies 20% of your work makes 80% of your outcomes.
A few people, however, simply do their daily agenda in any order. So, they may complete a great deal of errands before their day's over, yet get little outcomes (assuming any).
Actuality is, in everybody's plan for the day, there's only a couple of things that have the "greatest value for your money."
So, pick the 3 most significant things — no more than 3 — and put those at the top.
At that point, do those 3 things each in turn and don't do whatever else on your list until you finish those 3 things.
By doing these basic things first, you get the most outcomes every single day.
Once more, you have the most inventiveness, focus, and mental energy in the mornings; so, devote your best time of day on your highest priority tasks.
To figure out your best 3 tasks, try asking yourself:
What three things totally can't stand by until tomorrow?
What are the three things that on the off chance that I finished, but did nothing else, would have the option to get by with?
What are the three things that will have the greatest effect on my life?
Assuming, in any case, you have 5 basic assignments that all should be done today, locate the two things that, in the event that you don't do them, have the slightest repercussions.
At that point prioritize the other three.
(Figuring out how to prioritize will change your productivity, and in addition your life.)
5. Why limiting your time can zap your speed
Have you ever had a whole month to do something minuscule — and that "miniscule thing" winds up requiring the whole month?
There's a law for that.
It's designated "Parkinson's Law": Work expands to fill the time necessary for its completion.
In other words, whatever time you give yourself to finish an errand, it'll take that measure of time — regardless of whether it's 30 minutes, three hours, or three weeks.
Along these lines, to help your efficiency, don't give yourself more time to complete something:
Give yourself less.
Make a forceful time limit and perceive how quick you can do it. Clearly, you need to do a good job, but try to push yourself in terms of speed AND quality.
You'll see that the errands that once took "quite a while" really complete significantly quicker.
More, frequently, you'll really make a superior showing since you're giving your full concentration and focus to hit a pressing time limit.
This is the way you utilize Parkinson's Law for your own benefit.
6. Take interval mental breaks
It gives you stretched intervals to be super-engaged and undistracted while additionally giving you breaks to recuperate and reenergize.
Regardless of whether you're working, composing, or learning, taking regular breaks is essential.
It resembles working out at the gym: You need rest between practices so you can do it again and still have perseverance, strength, and force.
You can do a work duration of 25 minutes — with a brief 5 min break — I for the most part complete 50 minutes with a 10-minute break.
Throughout this break, however, it's essential to really "take a break" and not simply browse email, check social media, or occupy yourself.
Normally, I'll go for a stroll to walk my dog, do yoga stretches or even basic calisthenics to stimulate blood circulation throughout the body; at that point, I reset the clock and go once more.
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7. Improve your performance with music
You did your morning schedule. You have your organized daily agenda. You haven't browsed through your emails or messages. You set 50 minutes on your clock and are prepared to tackle the day.
Now what?
Here's a simple tip to help you take your working capacities to the next level:
Tune in to the same music on repeat.
Here's the reason why it’s so effective:
Instead of continually hearing different songs, which urges you to tune in to the words, by tuning in to the same one, you melt into the tune, quit zeroing in on the words, and simply feed off the energy.
My secret sauce is to listen to Binary sounds. Search “Binary Work/Study Music”, it’s far less distracting and gives you more focus to work. (I’m doing it as I compose this article piece!).
8. Conquer the last challenge
The past productivity systems are incredibly amazing and intense.
Yet, here's a severe truth:
Regardless of how well you plan your day or the number of productivity systems you use, in the event that you hate what you’re doing or don't know enough about what you're doing, you won't be productive.
So, on the off chance that you attempt these tips and still battle to complete things, ask yourself:
Do you really want to do them in the first place?
Is there something you're anxious about or afraid of?
In any case, while there are times you need to beat internal opposition — particularly when attempting to transform yourself — some of the time it's an indication of a more profound issue.
Possibly your body, brain, and gut are attempting to reveal to you something.
Talking from personal experience, the last time I opposed accomplishing work, it was on the grounds that I was in an occupation I hated and I wound up quitting (which additionally fixed my depression and allowed me to educate myself more on the thing that mattered most to me).
I can’t tell you for sure, but I do recommend taking some time, digging deep, and seeing where that opposition is coming from. You might just discover a whole new your
I can’t wait to see the greatness you will accomplish.
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