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#maybe I'll post the sketches i did last night instead
wispexists · 19 days
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I want to go home so i can play shin megami tensei 🙁
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threegoblinart · 1 year
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Your art is amazing!!! The style is sooo pretty. How long does it usually take to finish one piece? And what are some tips for a beginner artist?
Hi friend! Thank you so much, you're just lovely. ❤️
At the moment I'd say a real finished painting can be 8-12 hours of work easily when you factor in sketch thumbnails, practicing tricky things and doing more than one draft.
My Willow at the Window was probably 12 hours because I had to reteach myself so perspective stuff I haven't done for 15+ years since set design class in college.
The drawing I posted today is already 5-6 sketches in my notebook and one previous first attempt with watercolor.
All this time is often over weeks - I work full time, have kids and we have a stupid number of hobbies, lessons, so I draw and paint in little snatches of time here and there.... Frequently at around 11 o'clock at night.
Advice... Oh, settle in and let the Art Mom tell you a tale... No, just kidding. I could regurgitate the usual junk (okay it's not junk and very valid, good advice like - yes you have to practice, use references, invest in quality materials whenever you can, explore different mediums until you find your thing, etc.). But instead I'm going to say this...
Remember two things:
1) art should be something you do because it makes you happy
and
2) remember you're an artist no matter what and be fucking proud of that
About point one, at the end of the day making art should make you happy... So that will mean different things to different people some people can find joy being considered a professional in their field, having art be their source of income and some will not. And that's okay.
I learned this the hard way. I tried to be a professional in my field (theatre) and for a while it was great, but I burned out quickly and realized that tying my livelihood to my art did not make me happy. I did not fail, I learned where my boundaries are to be happy, healthy and creative. So now I draw just for fun, sometimes do small commissions for friends, etc. Maybe one day I'll try to do more (I do have goals, I'd love to do more commissions, have my art in a book, have a small print store), but right now drawing my DND characters and fanart and silly little mushroom houses makes me happy and that's enough. Our worth as artists is not determined by sales or contracts or likes or followers, that's a bunch of consumerist, capitalist bullshit and your art and you are inherently worth more than that.
About point two... You're amazing, yep you, and you're an artist. Art is simply the expression of creativity and imagination and inspiration. It doesn't matter if your art is something on chapel ceilings or the back of your maths notebook - it doesn't matter if it's entirely original (I ❤️ fanart and guess what that stuff on the chapel ceiling is just religious fanart). Are you doing something creative, imaginative or inspired - congrats you're an artist (que Newsies "We're a union just by saying soooo!!!") And there are no other qualifiers based on skill or ability.
Whatever you create is something only you can do.
While it's absolutely fine to work on improvement and goals - it is good to study others work and take classes and learn and seek to improve - be proud of what you're making no matter what because you made it and that alone is amazing!
I learned this the hard way... I stopped drawing for 10 years, and only started again 3 years ago (I'm, ahem, not super young) and I'm still learning to take this to heart. I struggle with comparison and self worth as an artist still, it's not a light switch I can turn off but something I work at (and take medication for - stupid insufficient brain chemistry).
Comparison does nothing but rob you of joy. Be proud of what you can do right now. Be proud of what you could make last week or last year or when you were 6. Be inspired by others, but only compare you to you - that way you only see your improvement and surround yourself with people who will hype you up no matter where you are in skill and ability.
... but also, like, practice ... a lot.
P.S. as bonus these pictures are one of the first things I drew three years ago when I finally said "fuck it I'm going to draw again" and my most recent quick sketch. They both are different in skill and ability, but I'm proud of both.
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chena-h · 1 year
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Man, it's been raining so much lately. On the one hand it's nice but oof, I do not like driving in rainy weather. Way too stressful.
So, I've been in a reflective mood lately. Sure it comes with the time of year. Creatively speaking, I feel like 2022 was pretty good for me. Im feeling more confident about things I create or ideas I get than I have in the past. I'm kinda happy about that.
Definitely focused more on writing than drawing. While I didn't publish much, I did feel great about the things I did managed to complete. Started taking more notes and being ok with wips. I feel like that's helped a lot. Head feels a little less cluttered and I'm relieved to know that I have a place where I can revisit my ideas when the time is right.
Didn't sketch or draw as much as I wanted to. It's hard because I have so many pencils and pens now (my brother even got me a set of pastels I'm excited about using). I'm not one for resolutions but I'd like to make some time to practice drawing more things. More practice in colored pencil for sure and trying to get through all my pens. At some point, I would like to venture into painting with inkwashes. Watercolors seem super intimidating to me. I've only painted with acrylics a few times and I don't really have the space for it. Maybe someday.
But yeah, this year, I want to try and work on my sense of organization when it comes to my creative projects. Art wise, I tend to be scatter brained ;w; I don't know what that will look like yet, but basically I want to balance time for writing and art projects.
Art wise, I still have that thing I was mentioning last year that I want to finish. I'm about a little over a quarter of the way there, I think? Just need to practice sketching some pieces out more before I draw the final versions. After that, I have a similar project I kind of want to do as well as a short series of portraits feat. one of my blorbos. At first, I wanted it to just be one drawing but I like all the ideas too much to choose just one orz. I also am undecided on which medium(s) to use. I'll see.
Writing wise...lol, I have so many wips now! Which is good. I do feel like I'll return to the Akira manga au series at some point. I've got more scenes from that AU (and I figured out how to end it)! There's also some one shots and a shorter series I hope to finish, but I'm very particular about the order in which I publish fics so idk when that'll be. Right now, though, the bnha fics are what I'm drawn to the most so I'll likely be focusing on those. Want to finish the first part of the series I posted, continue with the Villain AU, and maybe (maybe?) get the first chapter of the other series posted??? Gonna shoot for February for that one, but no guarantees there. There's also that highly ambitious AU fic that I want to write and publish this year, but there's still kinks for me to iron out with that one.
I think this is the longest time I've focused on fanart more than anything original, which is new for me. There are some projects related to my OCs that I have kicking around. Maybe I'll get to those later in the year. I've been debating whether to post original fics to AO3. I went on a deep dive the other night looking for fics tagged as QPR because I was curious and found way more original works than I expected. I know AO3 isn't technically for that, but I generally prefer to have one dedicated place to share stuff. I do have a RoyalRoad account though, so maybe I could use that instead.
Trying to stay positive about this year.
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seventhrounder · 3 years
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I went thru my folder with old hockey magazines I had saved from around 2011 to 2015 and came across this one and thought it could be a fun to make a post about now in hindsight.
This is Jääkiekko magazine from May 2012, they always have a section of "99 questions with ..." and in this issue they interviewed Teräväinen.
I’ve translated the questions I found interesting under the cut! It ended up being about half of the interview. (*) are my additions.
On the cover "seuraava superjokeri" means the next super joker, he played for Helsingin Jokerit so it's a word play from that. Under, on the blue print it says: "The 17-year-old forward will become a first round draft pick in the summer. The natural goal scorer can dominate in SM-Liiga as soon as next season."
In the 2nd photo the headline and lead paragraph goes:
"A post with dents* - A year ago Teuvo Teräväinen was known only within a small number of hockey insiders. Few passers-by recognize him now either but after a flashy rookie season the Jokerit sensation is on the radar of every NHL team and is a strong contender to become a first round draft pick. Next season with Jokerit the talented second line center will be one of the main talking points in the SM-Liiga."
(*references the net Teräväinen had in his backyard and into which he practiced his shooting)
3. You've been described as a magician, top scorer, wunderkind and a prodigy. What do you think of these descriptions?
TT: Heh, those are some descriptions yeah. What can I really say? Don't really wanna comment on them much.
4. How nervous are you about the Draft?
TT: I try not to be nervous as best as I can. In a way I don't have anything to be nervous about since I don't care which team picks me or at what number I go.
6. Which is stressing you more, English interviews or physical tests?
TT: Maybe both. Bench press (laughs) and English interviews can be tough.
12. How far along have you planned your career with, for example, your parents or your agent?
TT: Haven't really planned things with others but I've thought about them myself. I try to go step by step and not jump too far ahead.
14. How does it feel to be so young with all the star players in Jokerit?
TT: How to say it? I haven't felt like I was young but a part of the team instead. The team's been very good with me and they haven't been looking down at me like: "oh he's young". It's been fun to play in an experienced team.
15. Is there a generational gap between players?
TT: You can see the age difference, older players look older but we're all childish, at least with our topics.
17. What does a 17-year-old do in the sauna nights of the team?
TT: I actually haven't been in any yet. I've always been at national team's camps or something.
19. Did you get the number you wanted?
TT: I did, yeah. I could've taken #18 but Semir (Ben-Amor) has it. But i'm happy with #86, it's good.
23. What are your strengths as a player?
TT: Offensive play and with that playing with the puck, passing, IQ, power play and skill, just the usual skill - skill with hands.
24. And weaknesses?
TT: They are to do with defensive play, strength and physicality. Battles and such but I think I took a step forward last season. That's a good thing.
25. Have you ever been "pressed into a mold" or has your playing style gotten to develop naturally?
TT: As a kid the play was mostly offensive/attacking, I didn't have to think about playing defence. Up until 15 years old, I got to attack pretty freely. Playing defence became more important when I started to play in A-juniors a couple seasons ago.
26. On a scale from 1 to 10 how determined are you?
TT: Maybe 8, feels like an 8.
32. What kind of role are you planning to take with Jokerit next season?
TT: I think a pretty big one. I try to be a top player and not just take others' example but give others example myself too. So that someone in the team can take something out of the way I do things on the ice and off the ice.
35. If you could pick anyone, who would be your car driver?
TT: Nico Manelius for sure. He's been my driver this season. I've had others too, like Riku Hahl but he's not nearly at the same level. Nico’s clearly the best.
36. What are the most important qualifications to be a good driver?
TT: The car is obviously important. Hahl's car is totally awful, he takes a lot of heat for it from the guys too. I wouldn't dare driving with him. Manelius is a steady performer, never lets you down.
38. What sports did you play as a 10-year-old?
TT: Hockey and floorball, probably football (soccer) during the summers at the time too.
42. When did you decide to focus only on hockey?
TT: So when I stopped playing other sports? Three years ago, before that floorball was kind of a side thing, I played a couple of games in the regular season and playoffs.
45. Do you follow floorball or other sports? Go to games?
TT: I don't go to games but I like to watch floorball on TV, it's an interesting sport. Sometimes I watch football too but I don't follow it much. Feels like they never score there.
47. Have you ever played with a wooden stick?
TT: As a kid I did play with a wooden stick.
49. You won the hockey players' golf tournament last summer even though there were more experienced players too. Are you good with all stick games?
TT: Well, I've been pretty good in all of them. I've played golf for a long time and still play it.
50. How is your swing?
TT: Pretty bold, kind of a hockey swing. I don't really care where the ball goes - as long as it goes far.
52. What do you think of off-ice training?
TT: Let's just say it's more stupid than being on the ice but you still gotta do it to be better on the ice.
56. Which word describes your professional relationship (with his coach, Tomek Valtonen), tranquil or colorful?
TT: Colorful of course. At times we're joking around, other times it's more serious but the relationship is really good.
57. Coaching you has been described in many words: good, bad, worse. What are they?
TT: Heh, well... I won't tell them here. He (Tomek) keeps the discipline during practices but sometimes when things haven't gone to a plan I've had to jump on an exercise bike in the middle of a practice.
58. What have been the reasons?
TT: I'll quote Tomek: "when I haven't been present".
59. Have you ever tried to turn the resistance of the bike to zero?
TT: (Laughs) Of course I have and sometimes I've even succeeded.
60. Describe your diet in three words?
TT: Greasy, healthy and good!
64. Your first name is not common for people your age. How did your parents come up with it?
TT: I actually don't even know. Maybe they didn't want a usual Ville*....
(*very common name for men of all ages in Finland)
66. Which of these is the most important: skill, unexpectedness or courage?
TT: Skill!
68. Your longest video game stint?
TT: Six hours, at least. I've played a lot of War of Duty lately.
72. The dumbest thing that has made you upset in hockey?
TT: Probably if I didn't get an assist on a goal even though I should have. Or even worse is if I score and they mark it down for someone else.
79. Have you had any concussions?
TT: I haven't had any, I've managed to always dodge them.*
(*ouch, tho it's good the recent one is his only as far as i remember)
84. In 2011 Team Finland finished in the 5th place at the U-18 tournament. Why only as 5th?
TT: Because we lost to Team Russia in the quarter final, just as well we could have won that game too.
89. You didn't get to be on the ice to accept the SM-Liiga bronze medal (because of the U-18's). When and where did you get it?
TT: I actually still haven't received it, I don't know where it is.
93. What is the population of Helsinki?
TT: There's like 5 million people in Finland so maybe around 500k in Helsinki? (to be exact 596k) Did i really get it right...?
94. Who's the mayor of Helsinki?
TT: I don't know, I barely know the president.
95. Do you think the municipalities in the capital city area should merge?
TT: Luckily I don't have to decide but they probably shouldn't.
96. What do you check first in the news paper?
TT: The sports section.
97. Your favorite tv show?
TT: Putous* was pretty good, I liked a lot of the characters. The grandma was pretty good.
(*Finnish live improvisation comedy/sketch show (there are still new seasons, the latest just finished). Every actor comes up with a humor character with a catchy phrase and one of them wins. "The grandma" is Marja Tyrni and I just got such flashbacks from typing this sentence.)
98. Last book you read?
TT: I don't read many books. The last book was a study book, a Finnish book. I wrote an essay on Tiki (Esa) Tikkanen's biography. An eventful book, great career and a lot of chirps.
99. Who should we ask the 99 questions next?
TT: Riku Hahl could have good stories, he's also seen a lot of the world.
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vasiktomis · 3 years
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Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.
John Seed x Female Deputy
Rating: Explicit.
Read it on Ao3 here!
Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.
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“Don’t touch him!”
Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.
A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.
The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.
Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.
The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”
That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.
If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.
John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”
“For fuck’s sake-”
“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”
A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.
The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”
Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.
“Did you reach them?�� The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.
“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”
And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.
“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”
“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.
“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”
Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”
“Come again?”
“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”
“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.
“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.
At least until -
“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”
As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.
John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.
No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.
He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.
“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.
John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.
Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?
How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.
Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.
If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -
“Brother John.”
John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.
“What?" He asked thickly.
“The Deputy’s arrived.”
Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.
“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”
The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.
“John, I don’t think-”
He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.
Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.
John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.
Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.
“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”
A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.
“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”
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The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.
The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.
Same went for Boomer.
Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.
Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.
Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.
She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.
Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.
“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.
Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.
“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.
“Freak accident. You all saw it.”
“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.
“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”
The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.
Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.
It was empty.
Boomer was gone.
Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.
Her dog.
John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.
“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”
Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.
“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.
Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.
“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.
“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.
Find John Seed, of course.
“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”
“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”
The blonde considered that.
“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”
Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”
“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”
“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”
“No.”
“Say what?”
“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”
Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.
“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.
“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”
Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”
She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”
“...You really like that dog, huh.”
“That too.”
Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”
“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”
“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.
Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”
Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.
Still unconvinced.
“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”
The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.
Mission accomplished.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.
The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.
A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.
She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.
She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.
Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.
It was only freedom.
She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.
About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.
The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.
"Deputy, run!"
Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.
”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”
His followers obeyed.
Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.
“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”
“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”
“Drop the fucking weapons.”
John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”
With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.
“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”
“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.
John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.
She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.
“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”
Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.
“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”
“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.
Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.
One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.
“I won’t hurt you, sister.”
This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.
Her back felt cold all of a sudden.
Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.
His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.
Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.
John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.
She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.
A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.
“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”
“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.
One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.
The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.
This was it.
She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.
The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.
Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”
She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.
Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.
“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.
“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.
“How many are there?”
“How about you check?”
“How about you check?”
A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.
They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.
Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.
Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.
Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.
“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”
Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”
“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”
Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.
“-uhh.”
“Uhh?”
“Hurky, can I be real with you?”
“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.
The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”
Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.
“You brought-...”
“I brought my fursuit.”
“Not the C-4?”
“Not the C-4.”
“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”
Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”
Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”
So just like that, they were fucked.
Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.
Shit, if that were the case -
“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”
Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.
“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”
“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”
They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.
Hurk held out the bag.
“Pretzel?”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.
All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.
Gorgeous.
Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.
John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”
You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-
The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.
“Is this it?”
“Is it the Collapse?”
“It’s time?”
“John, is it the Collapse?”
The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.
“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”
Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.
This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.
Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?
The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.
Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.
His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.
“Deputy, gun!”
Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.
No.
John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.
Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.
His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.
God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.
John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.
Finally.
A little civility.
Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.
Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.
Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.
They never learned, did they?
“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.
She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.
John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”
The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.
Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.
"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"
It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.
“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.
“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”
Missed?
“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”
More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.
“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.
Blood.
He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -
A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.
Shit.
She hadn’t elbowed him.
“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."
“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.
She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.
”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”
Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”
“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”
Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.
John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.
He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”
“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.
“That - you can keep saying.”
"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.
Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.
The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”
John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.
He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.
“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”
“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.
“This one’s funny, I swear.”
“...go on, then.”
“It’s because I never tip.”
For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.
Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.
The Deputy didn’t sit back up.
That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.
“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”
“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”
When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.
He got what he came for.
He’d won.
He was saved.
Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.
“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.
“Jealous?”
Yes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”
“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”
A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.
The mountains are calling.
Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.
He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.
He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.
That had to be enough.
“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.
Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”
“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”
“Shut up.”
There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.
“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."
The mountains are calling.
She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.
The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.
He’d saved both of them.
Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”
It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.
“Of course.”
“Can I start next Monday?”
"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"
"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."
She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.
Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.
Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.
“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”
“What?”
“Spend those days with me.”
Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.
“Deal.”
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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years
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Us telling each other to go to sleep while simultaneously not sleeping
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1) You can just stop writing the au if you hate it so much, or just take a hiatus. I know people like it but you shouldn't burn yourself out!
2) Have you ever heard of the Lykoi cat? Please search them up if you haven't
3) Diphylleia Grayi, is a type of flower that looks turns "invisible" when it touches water
4) Do you have a favorite spider?
5) Help I keep drawing porcelain Jekylls that I'll never post </3 /lh
6) hsjsvdjsgh I cant think of anything. Uhhh. The Wulver is a scottish creature that's a furry person with the head of a wolf and shares fish with locals. Honestly most drawings look like furries I've just noticed, why is no one drawing em with proper clothes
7) Similar questions to my last(?) ask. Do you have any thoughts on what supernatural/mythical creatures tgs characters would be if they were one? And what would your latest oc that I keep forgetting how to spell the name of be?
...The fact that that is accurate scares me-- I'm also going to save that meme for future references everytime either of us catch the other up late sdfds
1) THEORETICALLY YES... But I know that if I take a hiatus I will never finish it, and I know how guilty I would feel for not continuing it... Plus, most of my complaining is just dramatic but I'm not used to make chaptered fics and never will ever again. I guess it's just a mix between constantly having to worry about how the fic is perceived (especially since we are entering the more controversial/angsty chapters rn) combined with the deadline that makes... Me sad :'3
2) *frantic googling* OH MY GOD THEY LOOk LIKE THE DEFINITON OF A TRASH GOBLIN I WANT FIVE OF THEM IMMEDIATELY SFSDFSDF
3) oo h h m y god... It looks like ice... Are they edible? My brain is telling me to go absolutely bonkers on them. O o h h m y god
4) I had a very weird phase as a kid, who was also very afraid of spiders, where I tried to convince my parents to give me a tarantula because I saw that they were fluffy. I'm still massively afraid of spiders but otherwise I'd say redkneed birdspider (is that the english name???)
5) Bestie I know how it feels my entire sketch book is just drawings of my ocs that will never grace tumblr </3
6) Oh man. I love Wulvers. I know jack shit about them but I had planned to have Henry meet a wulver in the Irrbloos Au at some point, since they were benevolent and helpful I had planned to have a wulver lead him back and get him back to the real world at some point but I never got so far into that plotline. But honestly... All pictures of werewolves of all kinds look like furries. Did you know that they have werehyenas in africa, which is basically just reverse werewolves (i.e a hyena that turns into a human instead of the other way around)?
7) I'm going to start off by saying that Cederic definitely would be some kind of nymph-like creature like an incubus of some kind or just a straight up male nymph/siren, something very pretty and very seductive because, I don't know if anyone read his part of the updated OC masterlist post, he was originally a prostitute and very much uses that to his advantage to get what he wants. Something cat-like would also make sense, as his mother (in the actual DND campaign) is the egyptian cat goddess Bastet, but regardless, he still has his cat so it would fit no matter.
*cracks knuckles* alright here we go. Not going to go into a lot of context i'm just going to spew shit out.
Jekyll - Werewolf, really, that's no surprise but a werewolf fits so good. Having a monstrous side he tries to hide that only comes out at night? *chef's kiss*
Hyde - Imp or poltergeist.
Robert - Vampire.
Rachel - Selkie
Jasper - since he already is a werewolf, he would just be Some Dude
Frankenstein - Dwarf, or Baba Yaga.
Griffin - Ghost that does not want to be a ghost
Emma - A Huldra, maybe? A benevolent nymph? A banshee? I just love her and I wanted to add her to the list somehow.
Maijabi - a ghost who is totally chill with being dead. Maybe one of those spirits who like to fuck with humans (metaphorically speaking) by hailing cabs and then ditching them in the middle of the ride.
Lavender/Ito - those centaurs that are deer instead of horses I forgot the name sdsdfs
thats all i can come up w at the moment sdfsdf
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justrandomselfships · 3 years
Text
Little steps- my self insert Fic (S/I POV) with a bunch of silly illustrations! Oh did I mention that this involves Kaeya? Well he's the main focus here even though Lisa is mentioned shit ton of times! Might write something for her focus too someday.
I finished it ages ago but I was afraid to post it- I'm not anymore and also✨ it's my birthday ✨
~~
Ever since I joined the knights I decided to write in a diary, it helped me keep track of time. Lisa told me that it can help me in various ways, like for example remembering names of the other knights, or checking my personal progress. Now that I think about it, it was long since I checked my old entries. Nothing interesting happened today anyway so I might as well read some. I don't really remember anything that was going on when I started so I suppose I could refresh my memory.
Today Lisa wanted to introduce me to someone- she probably wanted to help me by looking for training partner for me, however I had to refuse. You probably remember why was that, I got scared of meeting someone new again. I couldn't get that mess on her shoulders when she has so much to do as it is! And there was no way I'd meet them alone it'd be too akward for both of us!
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I remember the exact moment I tried to come up with an excuse for future me... It kinda made me giggle how stupid I am sometimes, but let's look at something else...
I've never felt as lonely as I do now, I don’t even know why. I don’t miss anyone nor I ever craved any interactions... But to make that feeling go away I thought about talking to Amber but when I left the house she was talking to Noelle and I got scared to approach them... Instead I decided to sketch something and stay inside for the rest of the day.
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I immediately looked at my sketchbook, I don't even have to look inside, I was drawing what's outside my window like always. Maybe I'll find some better memory if I keep looking?
During my patrol I got a bit lost... It was scary... But I wasn't alone, an Adventurer found me... However he got lost too. It was a bit unlucky day since I picked the wrong maps, we also got attacked a few times by monsters. I kinda feel bad for him since he tried his best to cheer me up but I stayed silent. It should've been other way around a knight shouldn't le
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Bennett! How could I forget his name when I was writing this? He was such a sweetheart I obviously had to mess it up and make him feel uncomfortable... But I did make up for it! Maybe I'll finally read something positive? I somehow can't remember how exactly that went... Or if I was daydreaming about apologizing?
I decided to bake something for Bennett as thank you and apology for acting so cold towards him. But I had no idea on how to find him... Or what to say... So after thinking for few minutes I decided to talk to Katherine and ask her to give it to him. After "talking" to her I locked myself in my room out of embarrassment, I messed up again. I just said "Bennett" placed my pastries and left. Now I probably won't be able to face her for at LEAST two months.
I cringe at the memory... Gosh now this will keep me up at night for sure... I finally forgot about it and now it'll haunt me.
Wait a second... Did I really not made any progress at all!? I was trying so hard to socialize with others and get out more but I seem to still not be able to do it right. No, it's impossible. I'm good friends with Lisa! So I definitely made any progress... Or is she just so easy to talk to? Time to take a final look at something recent for a change...
Capitan Kaeya Alberich wanted to talk to me outside work... It might not sound like a big deal but somehow I just froze... I wasn't able to respond properly and he probably guessed what I was going to say, not that he ever can't do that... I might be too predictable. Either way I feel bad, my behavior was really disrespectful and I knew better than that to just ignore someone like him. I still have much to learn and I'll need to properly apologize for staying silent.
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I only ever failed... There is no mistaking it. Great way to note down progress huh? Too bad there is none.
Think, what do I need to do to finally do better? I am the problem for sure but what do I really need to change? Maybe I should just start observing how others act... After all I never bothered to do that. It might help in one way or another...
Obviously there's only one place where there is a lot of people and I won't look like a total creep if I'll just listen in the conversations and look at random people... It's no other than the tavern. I'm scared to go there alone... But I don't have to!
Lisa would be willing to go right?... Then again I rely on her a bit too much and going out like this could be an opportunity to break the ice with someone else...
Jean is always busy, Amber will be way too distracting and we might end up somewhere else, Eula is too scary, Venti... I don't even know why I'm considering him.
Maybe that offer from capitan Kaeya still stands? It's from bearly 2 weeks ago so maybe if I get lucky and he happens to still be interested, I can actually go...
What am I even thinking!? I didn't even apologize for the last time... But being around so many drunk people is terrifying... However I can't bet on the fact that he won't drink too much... On the other hand he seems to handle people and I'll definitely learn something.
Screw it. It might be scary but I need to do it. Tomorrow I'll ask him! That's for sure! He's the most respectable and trustworthy person who isn't always busy and will not distract me.
~⏳
I'm scared to do it but I have to! I need to... Did I really say that I'm gonna do it today? Or should I just pretend that I never thought of it. He's probably busy today. Yup definitely that no need to feel stressed.
I haven't seen him back at the headquarters nor did I see him around town when I was coming back from my patrol- that's a good sign. It's still pretty early but I don't think that I'll see him today... What a relief!
Before I left the headquarters after finishing some paperwork I hear a voice that belongs to a beautiful librarian I am lucky to be able to call a friend.
"Hey there cutie, are you okay?"
"Just a little bit nervous that's all, nothing new haha"
"Do you need me to pass a message again?"
"No need! It's something I need to say myself..."
"I see..."
"But if you happen to see capitan Kaeya it would be nice if you could tell him that I was looking for him" out of habit I grab my hair and begin to play with it. Lisa's warm soothing voice blessed my ears as she said "No worries darling, I'll let him know" before she left and giggled to herself...
Wait... Oh no.
Why did I say anything!? Is she that magical that I can't say anything but what's on my mind.
If she happens to meet him my request will be unavoidable! Even if I tried thinking of something else Kaeya will know that I'm lying. I can't avoid him either... Can't waste his precious time...
How do I even ask him!? Do I need to change from my work clothes before I go? What should I do...
I didn't realize that I started walking in circles before someone approached me.
"Heather?"
I turn around and see the man I was thinking about all day. Dammit... I have to say it. I can't think of an excuse and staying silent is now unacceptable.
"Oh-uhm... Greetings Capitan Kaeya"
"Lisa informed me that you were looking for me"
"Oh right!... That... Haha..."
"I don't want to rush you, however I do have some business to attend to"
"I'm so sorry! I mean- since you're busy then my silly request is irrelevant"
"Come now, I believe that I should be the judge of that" his smug look made it ever so slightly more challenging to say anything.
"I just... Ugh..." I took a deep breath "Look as you know I was trying to loosen up recently and well I realized that I wasn't making any progress at all. So I remembered that one time you asked me to go to the tavern with you and I refused... I mean ignored you, which I am VERY sorry about but now I think that it was a mistake and today I wanted to ask you to accompany me but since you're busy let's just forget about everything" I felt relieved getting that off my chest.
"I don't think that will do, in fact I was heading towards the tavern so if you really want to I suppose you can join me" Oh right... I forgot about him gathering some information there from time to time. So it might work after all! He won't pay too much attention to me and I could investigate without tons of distractions.
"Let's get going then capitan" I say before he smiles softly in response "Wait do you want to get going now or-"
"Yes" he cut me off, which was fair and I'm glad he did it before I said something dumb.
We're almost there. Before we get closer I suddenly stop.
"That reminds me!" I realized I spoke out loud, as he looked at my direction my confidence dropped dead "I've never actually tried any alcohol so would you be so kind to recommend something for me? I figured that since I'm already getting out of my comfort zone might as well try something new" I said under my breath but he definitely understood what I meant judging by his facial expression and well... response.
"Absolutely" my heart skipped a beat. I desperately tried to start a conversation topic... But choosing alcohol might be something I'll regret...
Kaeya started listing few drinks I could enjoy his words were poetic as he described the beverages, however the names of the drinks went over my head. It wasn't that bad but I just felt stupid over how clueless I was. He definitely knew what he was talking about and I'm more than interested in hearing more. The more he talks the less likely I am to say something I'll regret.
"Obviously since I don't know how much you can handle I won't be forcing you to try too much too soon" he paused "Your father probably wouldn't be happy either if you returned drunk" he said teasingly. It invited me to respond less seriously.
"Oh no! This means that we'll have to do it again, how awful"
"We didn't enter yet so you can feel free to leave now before you regret spending time with me of all people" his voice was now suddenly much more hostile... Did I mess it up!?
He laughed softly "I'm sorry did I go too far? While I don't want to force you to do anything, I won't lie... I'm a bit curious to learn something new about you tonight"
We were still outside standing right in front of the entrance to the tavern if not for chatting we could hear from the inside there would be total silence.
"I'm sorry for being quiet again! It's just that you caught me off guard haha" I look away "There isn't much to know about me so I feel like I'll only disappoint you"
"I'm not so sure about that part"
"Wait... Did my father tell you anything about me!?"
"Look let's just get inside, We'll discuss it later"
Nervously I followed him yet again. The atmosphere was warm and I could see different kinds of people all over the place. We sit down.
"So did he tell you anything?" I ask immediately.
"Relax, he didn't" he seemed amused by my desperation to know. It's understandable... And I'm probably overreacting anyway. I collect my thoughts "I'm sorry"
"What are you sorry for?"
"I'm just making this into some big deal for no reason. Maybe the reason is the huge amount of respect I have for you that makes me freak out"
"I see, well I don't see the reason to be so formal now. We aren't working after all" his soft smile was enough for me to calm down.
"Thank you" Maybe it was all I needed to hear, after that everything went smoothly.
I start feeling proud of myself... Maybe I can change after all? Either way it only shows that I have to write it down! And once I was back home I did just that.
Today I had enough courage to take a step in right direction! I went to a tavern with capitan Kaeya. It was fun and for the first time in years I wasn't that scared. It wasn't totally perfect but it was definitely worth it.
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anaise · 3 years
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Fearing What You Loved
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Photo source: https://www.thesparkng.com/hub/the-a-r-t-in-nature/
Fearing What you Loved
(Human Interest Article)
There was a man near our house, he's our neighbor. His appearance and stature long passed its youthfulness, grey hair, wrinkled face, and poor posture. He's a good man, in fact our family is close with him, his daughter who's a lot older than me, we have talked before and had some conversations here and there. I know him but I don't know him personally and neither had I ever talked to him before. One day I happened to see him painting on a canvas outside their house, I just came from school that day. You see I love art works, particularly paintings, that's why when I saw him painting I was curious, I tried to look at what he is painting but to no avail I can't see it. Since he's facing the plants I guessed that it's the plants he's painting.
The next day came and I saw him painting once again, since I can't see whatever that he's painting I just then look at the painting materials on the ground. There were brushes and tubes of paint all together in a box, and because I'm an art enthusiast myself I noticed some very expensive paint tubes and paint brushes in that box, they don't look used but they don't look new as well. I try not to stay for too long or I may get caught so I decided that I'll just to talk to his daughter when I get a chance then maybe I can ask her some questions myself because I was getting more curious.
Sunday came and I happened to see her (our neighbor's daughter) outside their house watering plants. We're not quite close but we are well acquainted to each other so I started off by saying hello and sharing that I love paintings and is very interested in them, I then asked if her father happened to be an artist because I saw him painting while I was on my way home a few days ago. Right after I said that she looked at me like she did not just heard what I said, and maybe that's the case because she asked me to repeat what I said one more time. I repeated what I said and her eyes suddenly reflected a pool of emotions. I immediately asked if she's okay and she waves of my concern and told me that she's fine. She then said that yes her father used to be an artist, and it's been so long since her father last hold a brush or anything that's related to art. We talked for a while (for about 3 hours) then she decided to say good bye because she still needs to do something else.
After talking to her I learned that her father used to work as an artist who does commissions and requests back on the earlier days. Even though self portraits and art commissions are getting less popular because of cameras and photography by that time, her father's income can still sustain their family needs, as their family expands and with needs gradually getting higher his father decided to exclusively work under a person who promised to sell her father's work at a higher price and find the best potential buyers for him. The promised amount of pay his father will get will sufficiently support their family. On the first few months of her father's work they are getting by with their everyday expenses.
Her father never minds to over work and to paint, even if he's exhausted and tiredness is evident in his face. Whenever she would ask him to rest or took a day off, her father would just say that he doesn't need it and there will be no difference because weather it's work or pass time, he'll be painting still. With that kind of assertiveness from her father they never really tried to reason with him anymore or make him stop painting, instead they only asked him to rest if he can because they are concerned with his health. With his love and passion for his work they never once expected that there will be a day where her father will hate painting and anything that is related to art. None of them know what to do when their father came home one night and burned all of his paintings and sketches. From then on they never really new what had happened, he just started getting angry or show indifference towards something that is related to painting and art. Some other times his whole body would be shaking as if its afraid of these things. They were younger back then and cannot do anything but to help their parents, and that includes avoiding anything that involves their father's love for art. By the time they started earning their own money she immediately scheduled an appointment for her father to know the reason of his sudden indifference and hate for something that he loves so much. The doctor then diagnosed her father experiencing Post-traumatic disorder, it was said that her father for sure had a very traumatic experience and that he's being reminded of these traumatic experiences every time he see anything that is related to art.
After hearing that story I realized why she was so thankful and grateful that I approached her because as she said, she never once saw her father touch his art supplies, she wouldn't want to force him either but she needs at least an assurance that he's healing and giving himself a chance to recover once again. Her father's story made me think and ponder, it was so sad and it's something that we most likely did not expect to happen. I felt lucky seeing someone doing the things that they had feared in such a long time. It made me feel relieved to know that in the near future all scars of his past will be healed and he will find the joy painting once gave him before.
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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years
Text
Test To Stay
-| Stuck at a StandStill |-
StandStill: Chapter Two
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: Mineta is part of the story sadly.
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Today's the day! Today is the day Aiko will head into class 1-A and make a name for herself. Her confidence as of lately has been at an all time high, never before had she felt so ready for whatever would come her way. The air smelled faintly of cherry blossoms and the weather was just perfect. Nothing would stop her!
A hand clasped harshly onto her shoulder, once again making her jump out of her skin and whip around. Her nose was practically touching Komori's because of how close he was. "Guess who got into the Hero Course, Sweetheart." His rave black hair swept in the wind, it's messy appearance complimenting the thick glasses hanging off his button nose.
She hated that nickname, he gave it to her long ago and for some reason it still stuck. Besides, what should she even say to that? Surely he will be in class 1-A with her when the bell rings. Better save herself the pain and let him figure it out himself. "Good for you. I'm proud of you."
Komori lifted a brow, the smaller girl sounded so genuine with her words, yet there was still a hint of something beneath those encouraging words. Something he couldn't exactly place. Still, the words gave the black haired boy a thing of punk on his tanned cheeks. "Well then, if that's all you have to say I'll see you at lunch. And don't worry your pretty little head, I'll tell you all about the Hero Course." He leaned down and patted her head with a heavy hand.
Aiko furrowed her brows and scooted away, Komori strutting his way into the school grounds. Her tense figure relaxed a bit, moving to the front to dispose of her outside shoes and placing her clip-on roller blades in her book bag. She shuffled a few things around and turned to find her class, but luck have it, she bumped into someone. "Sorry!" She quickly exclaimed, hands up in defense.
The figure she bumped into was tall and broad for his age, and when she looked up she noticed a familiar face from just a few days ago. He adjusted his glasses and straightened out his silver school uniform. He raised one of his hands, almost as if he was about to slap her. She flinched. "It's fine. People make mistakes."
Sighing, Aiko examined the student further. As stated he was broad shouldered and tall for his age, with thin glasses resting on his nose. His face and jaw was strong, defined, and his eyes were a beautiful navy blue that matched his short yet neatly parted hair.
He shut his locker, which was opposite of hers, and turns back to her. "What class are you going to?" His hand pointed at her, palm facing up.
"Oh! Um—Class 1-A. You?" She asked carefully.
A pleased grin stretched across his cheeks. "Class 1-A, If you and I are going to be classmates, how about we exchange names? I am Iida Tenya." He extended his hand in a mutual form of respect.
"Takahashi Aiko, I prefer Aiko though." She gave a gentle grin and cocked her head to the side. "Nice to meet you Iida-kun." Her small hand was engulfed around his own, and in contrast against her gentle nature, his shaking and grip was iron.
"Well, Iida," She tasted his name on her tongue one more time to make sure she didn't mess it up. "We should probably get to class before we are late."
He whipped his head toward the fancy watch he wore on his wrist. "You're right! Let's go." With an almost robotic walk, he led the way to Class 1-A.
"Do you know where you are going?" Aiko questioned before thinking about her words. Was asking that rude?
"No!! But we can follow the signs they placed for the first years." He kept walking, turning his head just a bit to make eye contact with the girl. "If we go up the stairs to the second floor and turn right we should be there."
Her silver eyes glanced over at the signs and posters on the wall, a few being the ones from before but many were signs posting to classes. "Oh, my bad."
"Don't worry about it."
The two students traveled up the stairs and stayed right. Many different students passed them, each one making their way to their classes. A certain figure passed them though, one Aiko was too focused to not notice.
His wings flared behind his back, why the hell was she going right? The General Studies and Business Courses are on the left side, did she somehow get into the Support Course? Komori's dangerous, plum eyes watched her walk behind a guy with engines in his calves.
He kept walking behind the pair, watching and waiting to see where they end up. Is that guy a friend or something? Aiko and the tall guy stopped in front of a large door, one that towered all the way to the high rise roof. Inscripted on the side of the door in bolded, white letters screamed 'Class 1-A'. No way, no way in hell did she get into that class.
Komori accidentally bumped shoulders with another student, this one having blonde hair and a smug look on his face. "Pardon me." He snapped through gritted teeth.
The blond glanced at the two disappearing figures, scoffing and placing his hands on his hips. "Class 1-A, they have nothing on us." He bitterly exclaimed, waving his hand in a dismissive way. "This year, Class 1-B will be the ultimate hero Course!" He chuckled maliciously.
The bat man with black hair cocked his head to the side. "You're in Class 1-B?"
"Truly! Class 1-A will finally learn what it is like to be second best! None of them will come close to being strong enough to face me!"
Komori quirked up a brow and grinned. "I think you and I will be great friends." A clawed hand extended toward the cocky blond. "Komori." He introduced.
The blond glanced up at his taller classmate, the mischievous grin on his features twisting into a pleased expression. "Monoma, pleasure to meet you, Komori."
~~~
Aiko's pink lips stretched into a soft smile at the other students already in class. When she entered half of the entire class was already in their seats. Some of the more extroverted people talked to the students next to them, like Kaminari talking to the guy in front of him. Wait, did that guy have a tail?
Speaking of the blond, when he saw a familiar set of silver eyes and pale pink hair, he stood up and enthusiastically waved in her direction. Aiko waved back with a questioning yet polite look, shuffling over to take an empty seat in the back. She put down her bag and picked out her sketchbook, last night she was designing her costume but it wasn't approved, so she had to play around with her sketches to figure something out. Maybe more skin?
Every time a new student entered, Aiko couldn't help but anxiously await Komori, when was he going to show up? He would have probably showed up by now, right? Still, when a certain ash-blond entered with his hands stuffed into his pockets, she couldn't help but stare at his pursed lips. Why does he always look so pissed off?
Bakugou collapsed onto a chair and threw his feet onto the desk. Aiko cringed, and Iida, oh poor Iida... it was almost like he had a sixth sense for stuff like that. He strutted over to Bakugou, his entire body filled with momentum as his hands waved around in disapproval.
"Remove your foot from that desk! Such an action is insulting to those who came to U.A. before us as well as the craftsmen who made the desk!!" His hands pointed to the desk and the boy.
"Like I care." The delinquent leaned closer to Iida's face. "What middle school did you come from, you extra?"
Aiko's concerned gaze shifted to the newest student entering the class, his face was difficult to describe. Almost like he was disturbed but too polite to fully express it. Her attention returned to Iida, one hand now over his heart.
"I-I'm from Somei Private Academy. My name is Tenya Iida."
"Somei?!" The blond snapped. "A stuck-up elitist then? I should blow you to bits then."
Iida backed off in surprise... or was it disgust? "You're aweful. Do you really want to become a hero?!" Without fully finishing the conversation, Iida noticed the broccoli haired boy and wondered over to him instead. "I'm from Somei Academy...." The tall male introduced, hand outstretched.
The boy from the sludge villain incident tensed up and waved his hands in front of his body. "I heard you before! Ah... I'm Izuku Midoriya. Pleased to meet you Iida."
They talked a bit more, though it was more of a hushed conversation. Aiko tilted her head at the green haired boy, could he have been hurt to the point of making him skittish? Through her experiences, Aiko could only guess.
The door creaked open behind them, a sweet looking girl with brown hair, chocolate eyes, and a smile just as sweet as sugar. "Ah! That curly hair!! The plain looking boy!!" She pumped her fist in the air. "You got in! Just like Present Mic said!! Makes sense though!! That punch was awesome!!"
His entire face flushed a bright red, his hand covering as he turned away. "No! I-I mean...! I have to thank you for speaking on my behalf... I... well...."
Aiko found the transaction cute, a shy boy and a girl that seemed too sweet to be normal, so she returned to her sketches and kept her mouth shut. Until everything was suddenly quiet.
She glanced back at the door, the same scruffy teacher from the entrance exam huddled into a yellow sleeping bag. A small pouch in his hand that he sucked on. "This is... the Hero Course."
'Huh?'
He stumbled out of the bag, letting it fall to the floor as he entered. "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you." Although his words were professional, his tone said otherwise, like he was beyond bored to be here. He lifted up his bag and grabbed something within, pulling out a classic U.A. training uniform you would see during their tournaments. "Quickly now. Change into your gym clothes and head out to the grounds."
The entire class was split, some were jumping from their desk in excitement while the other half stood with a nervous hesitance. Aiko was part of the nervous group, but one at a time everyone took their issued gym clothes.
The girls rushed into the locker room, a certain pink skinned girl with curly horns on top her fluffy, lighter toned hair, beamed in excitement. "What do you think we are going to do?" She asked, turning to face the small group of girls with a beaming grin.
The brown haired girl from earlier smiled, her chocolate eyes sparkling. "I don't know! I'm nervous though." Her rosy cheeks adding another level of cuteness to her overall appearance.
Small bits of chatter danced around the room, introductions being made and clothes being replaced. Each girl, with a sense of nervous excitement coursing through their veins, introduced themselves.
Momo, an insanely beatutiful, young girl with black, silky hair pulled into a ponytail.
Ochako, the cute girl with a permanent blush and short chocolate hair, she seemed nice.
Mina, the pink haired girl who started the conversation. Her skin seemed to match her personality and style, bright and frilly, kinda like a girly Tom-boy.
Tsu, a girl with a cute accent, almost like she had a stuffy nose. Long green hair ending in a bow and intelligent eyes makes her comfortable to be around.
Hagakure, a sweet girly-girly personality wise, but other than that Aiko didn't know how to describe her. Maybe invisible would work? She hoped that wasn't too mean to think.
Aiko listened intently, simply trying to buy time by examining her new gym uniform and shuffling it around in her grip. When it was her turn she rushed with her introduction, stating her name and a little something she likes. Drawing, she chose drawing to be the thing she likes.
"Oh!" Beamed the pink girl, a enthusiastic smile stretching across her lips. "You'll have to show us your drawings!"
Aiko glanced away with her cheeks flushing a rosy red. "Ma-maybe. They aren't anything too impressive though...." her words trailed off into a quiet mumble, before she remembered she actually had to get dressed. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."
Swiftly, the white-haired girl's exited the conversation, shutting the bathroom stall door just a little too quickly in the process. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Aiko calmed her nerves. As much as she loved making friends, the over ecstatic girls made her a bit uncomfortable.
Though, them being excited about her art made her lightly blush.
~~~
The principle climbed his way into the room, the smaller form of All Might judging a price of paper in his boney hands. A deep set look of thought was etched onto his face, so much so he didn't notice Nezu entering and beginning to brew some tea.
A small ding alerted All Might of the new presence, and with a startled jump he turned to see who it was. The mighty hero sighed and examined the paper. "Aizawa is going to be harsh on the students."
Nezu pored the tea into two cups, took hold of both of them and handed one to Toshinori. "He's always hard on his students, I believe he would be good for your successor."
All Might turned and joined Nezu on the small desk. "He doesn't like me, Nezu, he'll defiantly see too much of me in him."
The principle smiled and took a calming sip of his tea. It was slightly sweet with a hint of mint, warm against his tongue as the steam tickled his nose. He sighed and kicked his legs in the chair. "That could be a good thing, besides I'm sure he will see potential in him much like you did."
All Might leaned forward, letting the steam warm his sunken face. "He expelled his entire class last year."
"That won't happen again, we've told him off for that last year." Nezu commented with a laugh, sighing and carefully handling his tea on his lap.
"But he can still expel someone, right?"
The mouse-like principle lightly chuckled. "Technically."
The two of them halted their current conversation, opting to change the subject on another issue All Might noticed. "You place twenty-one students in each hero course this year, why?"
"The batch of aspiring heroes seemed especially good this year. I wanted to give them all a chance."
"Won't there be some problems?"
"I've already thought ahead, don't worry. We will have the teachers follow the curriculum as usual, but whoever the extra person is, we can have the students who need more training get another chance." Nezu glanced over, taking another long sip of his tea. "Did that make sense?"
Toshinori hummed, his forefinger and thumb holding his chin in thought. "Yes, it does." The mighty hero sighed and stood, thanking his friend for the tea. "I'm pretty sure Aizawa is already testing them."
Nezu laughed. "Probably. It was nice to talk to you again, Toshinori."
"It was nice. I'll see you later, Nezu."
~~~
The entire Class 1-A stood in a field, a shot put field from the looks of it. Aizawa stood in front of them, taking in their forms like he was already deciding to give up on them. 'How optimistic', Aiko thought sarcastically.
He started talking, something along the lines of how U.A. allows independent teaching, and something about quirk prohibitions in society. "Bakugou, how far could you throw in middle school?"
"Sixty-seven meters."
"Great. Now try it with your quirk. Do whatever you need to do, just don't leave the circle." He handed the ash-blond a small ball. "Give it all you've got."
He smirked and mumbled under his breath before throwing the ball with a massive explosion behind it. "DIE!!" The sickening sound echoed through the field.
Air and smoke swept through everyone's hair, Aiko covering her face with her arms and squinting at the bright light. 'Die?' She glanced up at the sky, the ball only being a small spec in the vast ocean of blue. Slowly, it descended back to earth with a trail of smoke tailing behind each weak bounce it made.
Aizawa turned back to the group, his shoulders hunched and relaxed. In his hands, dressed with callouses, was a small device with the illuminated numbers 705.2m on the small screen. "It's important for us to know our limits." He began with a bored tone. "That's the first rational step to figuring it what kind of hero you'll be."
Aiko shivered at the slightly threatening words from the teacher, but everyone else cheered with delight. After all, this is a chance to prove themselves as the future heroes of Japan! To fight villains and save lives! Taking a quick glance at her classmates, she clenched her fists with a confident face.
Yeah, she would stop villains too! She would become a hero!
"'Awesome you say?'", Aizawa repeated, a bit of malice echoing under his disinterest. "Hoping you are going to become heroes after three years here... and you think it'll be all fun and games?"
'Huh?' Aiko's sudden confidence dwindled like a dying candle, and her posture slumped. 'Oh god, whats happening?'
"Right. The one with the lowest score across all eight events will be judged hopeless... and will be expelled."
"E-e-expelled?!" She suddenly yelped, the entire class screaming their disbelief. 'Holy shit! He can't do that?! Can he?!'
"Your fates are in our hands." Aizawa trailed his hand through his messy, black hair. "Welcome, this is the Hero Course at U.A."
'That-that wasn't welcoming.' Aiko worried, hurrying along with the other students to the chopping block. They huddled up like cattle to the slaughter. The first challenge: 50-Meter Dash.
Two at a time, the students dashed as fast as they could, a race to the finish line. Aiko was paired up with a red head with sharp teeth. He grinned at her, a soft smile and a thumbs up. "Do your best." He added, bending down to prepare the sprint.
Aiko bent down too, blowing her loose hair out of her face, and patiently awaited the signal.
The dark haired teacher blew his whistle, and the two students were off! Aiko propelled herself forward, launching her body as fast as possible. The wind brushed past her hair, and she was subconsciously holding her breath with each step. 'A little farther!' She thought, the red-head beside her already past the finish line.
'When did he finish?' Aiko's foot passed the finish line, the camera off to the side blaring her score. "6.56 seconds." '6.56! That's better than middle school!' Suddenly, the red head finishing first didn't seem so bad.
Speaking of which, he was wondering over. A small bit of sweat coated his brow, and his toothy grin beamed brightly. "Good job!" He cheered.
"Th-Thanks, you too." Aiko kindly replied, fixing her gym shirt and taking a few deep breaths.
Next challenge: Grip Strength. She frowned, grip strength would be a tough one to do. Maybe her constant drawing would make her stronger than normal? Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
Yeah, it was wishful thinking, 36 kg wasn't that good.
Third Challenge: Standing Long Jump. Knowing each student could use their quirk, Aiko wondered if there was any way her quirk would be useful.
Fourth Challenge: Side Stepping. This would be an easy one, obviously as she finished almost last. Second to last to be exact, pretty good if she had to say so.
Onto the next challenge: Sit-Ups. Easy, eighty-eight and fourth to finish.
Sixth Challenge: Seated Toe-Touch. Also easy, Aiko stretches every morning before skating to school.
Seventh Challenge: Distance Run. Nope, was one of the last to finish, hopefully this wouldn't ruin her score that badly.
Finally, the Final Challenge: Throwing. Besides the eventful Aizawa vs Broccoli Boy vs Explosive Blond back to Aizawa, Aiko didn't do that good.
The reveal was upon the students, a horrifying set of numbers that would decide someone's fate. Aiko related her own score, if they went by a number system she made up, then she should be okay. If each student was put into the position they ended in, and each student was given the respective amount of points, then the people with the least amount of points would be at the top. Aiko wouldn't be at the top, but she shouldn't be on the bottom either.
There was a small beep, and with a deep breath, Aiko glanced up at the screen Aizawa held. Momo, Todoroki, Bakugou, Iida, etc... Aiko. Aiko Takahashi! In 14th place behind Tsu!
Her shoulders slumped and she let go of a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "I made it!" She quietly exasperated.
Though she paused, immediately being overwhelmed with guilt at whoever was in last place. Midoriya Izuku, that's the green haired boy right? Silver eyes glanced over at the boy, his head hung low. Should she go comfort him?
"Your total scores simply reflect your performance in each of the events. Explaining the process would be a waste of time, so all you get are the final rankings." His tone wasn't any different from before, he must really not care about them. "Also, I was lying about expelling someone."
Another sigh of relief.
"That was a rational deception... meant to bring out the best in all of you." His cheshire grin reeked of mischief.
The students shrieked in disbelief, the shy girl shuffling away from the front of the crowd. "Anyway, were done here." Your documents about the curriculum and such are back in the classroom, give them a look."
~~~
"Oi!" A shriek like yell burst through the comforting conversation of the after school pack up. The surprise made the small girl jump and slam her locker closed. "Aiko right?"
When she turned around, the electric blond from earlier. "Uh, yeah? Um, Kaminari right?"
"Yup!" He pulled over two other figures, a purple haired boy from the bus ride and the red head you raced against. "You know Mineta, and this guy right here is Kirishima." His arm hung over their shoulders, a little awkwardly she would admit, and his thumb pointed to the sharper tooth kid.
"Nice to meet you guys." Small, slightly shaky, hands reentered her locker code. "Uh, I'm glad we all made it? Mr. Aizawa seems pretty... intense?"
"Oh, geez. Tell me about it! I thought I was going to fail!" Kaminari yelped, planting his palm on his forehead. "There wasn't even anything I could use my quirk on!"
Kirishima sighed. "Me too, hardening isn't exactly good for stretching." He joked.
"Hardening? That's your quirk?" Aiko asked, the smaller, purple haired student shuffling from side to side anxiously.
"Yup," He raises his arms and flexed them, the once soft flesh changing into hardened, jagged pieces. Like rock. "It makes it harder to move."
"I can harden too-." Burst Mineta, though he was quickly interrupted by Kaminari.
"I can manipulate electricity, I can't use too much of it though, fries my brain." He swatted his hand in the air. "Hopefully later on I can really show off my skills!"
"Do you want to know what my quirk is?" Aggressively, Mineta tried to butt his way past the other two boys. "My balls-."
"So what's your quirk? I didn't see you use it either."
"Oh, it's called pause." Aiko began, doing her best to unite Mineta. "I can freeze—pause objects in time. It gives me bad headaches though." She tapped her temple and shifted her gaze across from her locker, still grabbing the few things left in there. Across form her, Iida waved goodbye with a small smile. She returned the action before turning back to the boy's. "It wouldn't have helped me."
"So," started Kaminari, but replaced his interest with the skates in her hands. "Oh! You skate?"
"Oh yeah, my transportation." The white haired girl waved them in the air before putting them on. "Sorry, but I have to go. Mr. Takahashi wants me to get some food on the way back home."
"Mr. Takahashi? Your dad?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah... my dad." Aiko realized how weird that might sound, after all she used to say mom and dad. "Anyway, I'll see you guys tomorrow!" She smiled and dashed off and away from the situation. "Bye!"
Her hair brushed past her shoulder, and everything else became a blur. Warm air tickled her nose and played with her school uniform. This was freedom, this was relaxation. No matter what happened, no matter who yelled or hurt her before, skating around the city was always relaxing. Always a way to clear her mind of any worries.
After a day like this, she needed it. After all, Komori and Aizawa scared her beyond believe today. Taking a detour wouldn't end the world.
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Into the woods: The journal - Part 3
22/12/2021
Normally I'd wait some days between posts, but due to the circumstances of the last night, I felt like I had to remark that I am still alive. I managed to fall asleep shortly after the mysliving incident (I am sure that thing was not a common animal, for the reasons I'll state later). Probably both the mental and physical fatigue helped.
When I got up, I inspected the near surroundings to learn more about the threat. First, I checked the state of the door. It is worth mentioning that it was pierced from two different points, the holes being roughly as wide as my thumbs. When I looked from outside, It had an aspect similar to this sketch:
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Quite self explanatory, despite the low quality. The crater is only one feet above the floor, sugesting the creature (or it's head, at least) is very short, but at the same time bluky enough to generate such damage. It also seems to have two elongated tusks, around 7-8 inches long (from the angle it is unlikely that those were horns). The front of it's head is large (30 inches at least) and hard, with a circular shape. I can't think of any animal that fits those characteristics combined.
Add to it the strange, deep growl, and we have some sort of a chimera, a very aggresive one, I must say. Thus, a textbook mysliving, whose accurate aspect I don't even know.
Why did it attack me? I don't remember provoking it, and I was being really quiet, so only my oddour could attract it in the middle of the night. I had no clue, but I would not waste the day idling and thinking about a mystery I could not solve. My stomach growled, malnourished.
After partially satiating myself with some wild strawberries I found, and before starting to work in my weapon, I made a second major discovery. A third, this time fully spotted mysliving: The Tree rat, as I named it.
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This time I could approach and observe a small mysliving at a close distance, before it ran away, and I even got to see it's behaviour.
This creature is slightly larger than the average squirrel. Every extremity has two elongated fingers with sharp small claws, instead of hands or foot. It also has some sort of small trunk, large ears akin to a koala, a fluffy long tail, and large eyes with yellow sclera and black, wide iris. Around the part of the neck, there are several folds of skin (the mouth is located somewhere between them).
This creature is adept at climbing trees, making use of it's claws and small body to move at incredibly high speeds (as fast or maybe even faster than a squirrel).
It is a carnivore/omnivore, that preys on mice, and probably other small animals or insects. In my first encounter, I saw one stalking a forest mouse. The tree rat ambushed the prey from a tree, aiming at it with the trunk, and then spitting some kind of greenish, sticky fluid (mucus?). It has a noteworthy precision, landing at a distance of around 10 ft. The mucus snared the legs, making the mouse unable to run efficiently. Then the tree rat jumped to the ground, swiftly pinched they neck of the mouse, and killed it, grabbing it's corpse with the mouth (or the skin folds) and running into some near bushes, likely to consume it. When I tried to approach, it somehow heard or saw me, and ran away again.
This animal is faster than the hare I caught, and I doubt the dusk grass would be enough to get my hands on one. It's a pity, since I haven't tasted mysliving flesh yet, and I can't help but wonder if they have any anomalous property similar to the dusk grass that I could take advantage of.
Without anything else to observe, I went back to my weapon schemes. I managed to find a fallen branch, robust yet light, that is at reach. With a moderately sharp stone, I may be able to turn it into a rudimentary spear. I am also planning to elaborate some traps to catch smaller animals in the meantime, but I'm out of ideas at the moment, or tools to craft most of them.
This could have been solved in little time if I brought tools with me, but I refused to do such a thing, since I made a bow to avoid having unfair advantages outside of what the enviroment provides. What would be the point of abandoning civilization if I'm actively parasiting it's fruits to my own benefit? Even coming here with my clothes and shoes seems unjust, and that's the further I will benefit from my fellow humans labor.
On the bright side, I also found a nest filled with eggs in a tree. It was quite exposed, so I managed to knock it down after throwing a few stones at it, and have an almost meal with the eggs that didnt break. Kinda felt bad for the birdies... but if you think about that, compared to that unknown mysbeast that charged at me, I was as frail as a little bird myself. So I guess I'm acting on even terms with nature.
Before going to sleep I found a bunch of elderberries growing near the back of the cabin. I did not notice them before since they're between two large boulders. Anyways, I managed to slightly quench the hunger, but this will not be enough in the long term. Tomorrow I will try to finish my ''proto-spear'' and hunt for real. If it fails, I'll resort to traps and look for more wild berries, maybe even try to fish somehow. There is a little river not so far from home, and I can probably find an earthworm or some other bait if I focus on that.
Whatever. I have too many things going in my head at once. This place, too, has a lot of demands actually. Kinda like the civilization had... but the priorities are totally different. It requires me to improve myself and stay active, at a more primal and instinctive way. I prefer this. No mather how much I struggle or how panicked I feel at a times. I am more fit for this place than I was for my old home. It is so reassuring, to find where oneself belongs...
Take care, city dwellers!
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xiaoxiongmaos · 3 years
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this is a bit late (sorry for that, i've been a bit busy these past few days!!), so i'll combine today's mission w the past one!
first off, are there any iconic moments from your faves that you love? and second, i'm here to recommend pinkfantasy as a new kpop group for you to listen to!
i hope you're doing well, xixi <3
- 🗝 anon
Hello! I’m so sorry for the late response myself, I couldn’t open the inbox on the phone so I had to wait until getting onto my computer ^^; hope you’re well too, anon!
YEAH HAHA it does really seem like jisung is your bias after all you wrote but it is all so true!! and yes i agree!! the use of cgi in mvs sometimes make me cringe. like, in monster, that one scene where they edited irene's face was so bad and i wish they went with just a mask or makeup instead. i didn't actually notice that in blue hour's mv (but that was probably because i was hyperfocused on the members LMFAO). but, yes the yg method is definitely a safer method. though i prefer mv's like red velvelt's that are kinda whimsical, kinda dangerous, and 100% sexy. i LOVE those royal aesthetics too!! i haven't seen most of those mvs :( but i have an idea of what you're describing and i've seen some mvs in those style that are just!! top tier!! pls don't apologise for your response!! i really wish i could write more but i'm so awkward so i end up deleting half of what i want to say 😭😭 and, yes i am!! i write and read! i'm intrigued about this writer friend of yours i remind you of 👀 i honestly didn't think it's obvious i'm a writer bc i use a lot of abbreviations and a more informal way of texting, so i'm surprised you picked up on it. i'm curious about what you do on here bc i haven't seen you make gifs or post any fics! do you read?? i'm really curious! i hope you're having a great day, and i'm sending warm hugs your way - 🗝 anon
I’ll respond to your previous ask here as well!
Ooh iconic moments… I guess there’s the compilations of Soobin messing up names that went viral akdkdkfk I usually get a good laugh out of them. I don’t really know what people consider iconic since I’ve never thought of anything people do as such so please bare with me haha maybe also that one fancam of Jisung sitting there jamming to all the artists performing but messing up the lyrics in an award show + the clip of Eunsang singing 2002… it really blew up his fanbase and his voice is such a tender, honey-like one and I still listen to it regularly! I’m sorry I really have no idea (*μ_μ) what’re your favourite iconic moments?
OH I remember watching the MV when it came out and almost leaping out of my seat because I was taken aback at how the face looked… I think if it was a tad more natural, it wouldn’t look as bad akskdjfjs
Ah, she used to be a writer here but she left once the group she wrote for disbanded… I dunno maybe it’s the fact that you word your sentences the same way she did in casual talk? I kinda felt like you were her at first but I don’t think so now because it’s been awfully long for her to turn up in an anon event HAHA no offence to either of you though :3
Oh, I gif! Well, it’s a little more complex than that but I mainly gif. I used to write on main (and post fanart from time to time) before but then it got weird for me after most of my writer friends left/grew other interests so I took up giffing + a tiny bit of gfx making and have been doing so on sideblogs since April last year! I posted fanarts on here to keep main active but I haven’t been lately because I need a new tablet first and I can only do so little on a small device such as my phone (つω`。) I have a ton of sideblogs but my most active ones currently are those for txt, stray kids & the boyz! It seems like a lot but giffing takes me 1-2 hours per every 2 sets so I can usually make two posts a day if I don’t write for the story I’m working on personally and/or sketch for any fanarts… I do read! From only 2-3 writers though because I’m slightly picky with what I read and the style is either a hit or miss with me. I do think I’m blessed in a way that my day seems pretty long to me; I can study & finish chores in little time and partake in my hobbies/other activities while having more than half of it still left dkf’fnnf sometimes it’s not such a good thing because I feel like there’s nothing to do all day hehe I’ve been studying for my exams these past couple of weeks because they’ve suddenly been moved prior to their date before so I haven’t been able to post stuff as regularly. That’s also the reason it took me a while to get back to you, I apologize again!
Feel free to write whatever you want, please don’t feel shy! It’s okay if you’re not comfortable enough yet though, don’t feel pressured to write a lot either!
I think I’ve heard of them/heard a song of theirs in a try not to sing since the name sounds familiar but I’ll check them out! My recommendations would be highlight’s loved & still not the end + victon’s nostalgic night + han seungwoo’s on & off + bdc’s remember me! My recs are them as groups and an artist but to start you off I only listed the titles I adore, though almost all of their discography is amazing~
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janietattoos · 7 years
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Maybe One Day I'll Come Home To You // #BSPromptChallenge
Day 20: Trains/Planes/Automobiles
A/N: Seeing as my last few prompts in this challenge have been fluff-based, I’ve decided to revert back to angst today. Sorry! But more fluff will be coming soon, and that’s a promise.
Jane gripped the armrest as the plane began to move onto the runway. She closed her eyes tight and took long, deep breaths, but none of this helped to remove the anxious ache in her stomach. She had to do this without Kurt, but at the same time, she needed him now more than ever.
She’d booked her ticket for the flight to Nepal during the previous night, once Kurt was fast asleep. Her heart had practically shattered when she had to request for one ticket instead of two. For the past few weeks, she’d been receiving anonymous phone calls, letters, packages, all with the same message - leave New York or your family will pay. She’d been hiding the messages the entire time; she knew that he was overwhelmed at work, and she didn’t want to add to his load. It killed her to lie to him, to be so secretive, to leave him, but it was her only option. She needed to protect him, and hopefully, one day, he would understand that.
This was the thing, though - she’d never been on a plane without him before. To be fair, they never got the opportunity to fly much anyways - work was always a constant beck and call - but when they did get the chance to fly, they’d always done it together. He knew that she was terrified of flying, and so over time, he’d learned little techniques to help her remain calm during flights. Her favourite one was simple but extremely effective - he would take her hand in his and trace the honeycomb tattoo on the back of her hand with his thumb. It always managed to help slow her heart rate and breathing. But this time, she was on her own, and she didn’t have him to comfort her. 
As the plane gathered speed, she felt her pulse quicken more and more. She hated this, every bit of it. She wanted more than anything to get off the plane and return home to him, snuggle back into their bed with him, where she belonged. But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t.
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the armrest harder. Suddenly, the plane was in the air, soaring vertically against the early sunrise. She didn’t dare look out the window, she knew it would only panic her further. To distract her, she reached into her bag and took out a pencil and her sketchbook, setting them on the fold-out table on the back of the seat in front of her. She stroked the spine with her hand, tears trickling down her cheeks. She’d only been away from him for two hours, and she already missed him like hell. How on earth was she going to cope for the next few weeks? Months? Maybe even… years? Her entire body shivered at the thought of being away from him for that long. She’d always hated the nights when she would end up in their apartment alone because he had to stay late at work. The place never felt right without him at night - or any time of day, for that matter. She craved him constantly, no matter how far away he was. And now, she was the one who was going away. And she couldn’t bare it.
She wiped away the spilled tears from her sketchbook. In the rush to leave that morning, she’d made a mental note to grab the sketchbook. A few years previously, when she’d been taken by the CIA, they’d gotten rid of what few possessions she’d had at the time, and that included her first sketchbook. A few days after they’d started dating, he’d noticed that she didn’t have her old sketchbook anymore.
“Where is it?” he’d asked as he’d wandered around the living room in her safe house.
She’d looked down at the floor embarrassingly, not wanting to delve into the past again, not wanting to remind him of the pain that he’d partially caused her. “The, uh… the CIA took it, whenever… whenever they took me. And I never got it back”.
She’d looked up at him gingerly, to see that his expression was filled with sorrow and guilt. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he’d whispered.
She’d shaken her head, wanting to get as far away from the topic as possible. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I, uh, I wouldn’t even use it much now, anyways”. That had been a lie - she’d missed that book desperately since it had been taken away from her, but she didn’t tell him because she didn’t want him to feel responsible for any of that.
However, the next day after work, he’d taken her to the local arts and crafts store, and he’d bought her a new sketchbook, almost identical to her old one. She’d tried to argue with him on it, saying that she wasn’t dependent on it anymore, but he’d insisted on buying it.
Her eyes welled up with even more tears as she recalled the happy memories. God, she hated this.
As if it was perfect timing, one of the air stewardesses came round. “Would you like any refreshments, madam?” she asked politely, before registering that Jane was crying. “Or a… tissue?“ 
Jane looked at the stewardess quizzically. "What? Oh… no, I… I’m fine. Thank you”.
Respecting Jane’s wishes, the stewardess continued walking down the aisle, but her confused expression remained intact.
Now that they were comfortably the air, Jane’s anxiety began to calm slightly, but she still felt that desperate need to have him with her. With her hands still shaking, she carefully untied the ribbon on the side of her sketchbook and flipped it open. Ironically, it opened at a page where she’d sketched a portrait of his face. She remembered when she’d done it too. It had been a quiet Sunday evening. They had been lying on the couch together, their legs entwined, when she’d suddenly felt the urge to sketch him. He’d just looked so peaceful, watching the world go by with her outside their window. Although he chuckled slightly at first, he’d eventually fallen into the role of being her muse. He sat still and patiently as she’d sketched every feature on his face, and had marvelled at her talent when she’d finished, planting a kiss on her lips. She traced the pencil lines now with her finger, longing for the real him instead of a drawing. 
She was exhausted, more tired than she could ever remember being. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep, and she knew with confidence that she wouldn’t have one now in the near future, especially when he wasn’t going to be sleeping beside her, his arms wrapped around her waist. After a while, her eyes began to droop as the plane floated through the skies. She knew that she should take advantage of the plane’s steadiness, as turbulence was bound to kick in at some point. So, she took the sketchbook, held it tightly against her chest, and closed her eyes. 
She dreamt of lazy Sunday evenings on the couch. She dreamt of post-work drinks. She dreamt of their hands intertwined and his lips against her neck. She dreamt of home.
She dreamt of him.
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