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bestjeanistmonster · 2 years

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A draft of how Meliodas and Zel would reunite while Meliodas still has his memories fully erased in vigilante Zeldris au:

He was on a date with Gelda, wanting to spend some quality time because they'd both been so busy with school work lately. Gelda had been talking to him about the funny thing their cat got into while he wasn't home and then out of nowhere-

"CERBERUS NO STOP!!!"

Zeldris turned at confusion and- CRASH!!!

He was immediately bowled by a large brownish blur onto the grass.

"Zel, are you okay?!" Gelda called out

"What the fuck?!!!" There was a dog, a very large and fluffy dog that was currently on top of him, sniffing him for a moment before starting to lick his face. "Ew, get off!"

"Ah shit sorry dude!" He heard rapid footsteps coming towards him before the dog is finally pulled off him,

"c'mon boy get off him! You know better than to attack strangers!"

Zeldris sat up ready to yell at the stranger before he froze and his eyes widened at the short young adult who was scolding his dog, was it really-

"Okay now sit here and think about what you've done." The man said sternly, the dog whimpered as he walked over to Zeldris.

He smiled apologetically, scratching the back of his head "I'm so sorry about that man, Cerberus's not usually that, I'm not sure what got into him." He extended his hand out, "the name's Meliodas by the way!"

Meliodas's sea glass green eyes were bright and full of life, something Zeldris hadn't seen on him since he was a kid, ever since the experiments started his eyes had been void black with little hints of red, seeing his eyes like this, so happy was…strange.

"Uh dude did you hit your head? cuz your kinda spacing out a bit."

Zeldris shook himself back to reality, “o-oh it’s fine, just processing…is that your dog?”

Meliodas perked up at this, “Yeah, this troublemaker’s name is Cerberus, ya know like that three headed dog in Greek mythology? Oh and I-uh didn’t catch your name!”

“Oh it’s uh-Zeldris.”

The man before him paused at that, “‘Zeldris’…”, Zel tensed, did he trigger his memories? Then Meliodas raised an eyebrow at him, “that’s a pretty strange name.”

“So’s ‘Meliodas’.” The blonde laughed at that, “okay you got me there!”

He looked like he wanted to continue the conversation but to Zeldris’s utter relief he heard one of Meliodas’s… ‘friends’ calling to him, specifically a tall guy with blueish silver hair. Wait, was that-

“MELIODAS GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, DIANE WANTS WAFFLES!!!”

Yep that was Elaine’s friend, Ban. Holy fuck.

Meliodas hurriedly says goodbye, and runs over to where Ban was waiting impatiently, upon arrival Meliodas is immediately picked up and put under Ban’s arm like a sack of potatoes while he struggled.

Though the Meliodas Zeldris knew would be able to break out of the hold easily, this Meliodas seemed to just give up after a few seconds of fighting and just dangles there pouting as Ban walks towards the rest of his group, Cerberus following behind.

Gelda returns with ice-cream.

“Sooo how’d it go?”

“I can’t believe you just left me there to get ice cream!”

“I thought you guys just needed space to talk, you usually don’t like other people to get in your family stuff, besides I bought you a cone as an apology.”

“…apology begrudgingly accepted.”

I just want to say that both Meliodas [memories returned] and Zeldris both regard the Mel that Gowther created as just a false identity. That it’s not Meliodas and never will be, but soon they’ll grow to understand that that Mel, though still crafted through false memories, is still Meliodas.

He always was, it’s just that neither wanted to acknowledge or accept that that part exists cuz of trauma and past experiences.

Zeldris doesn’t want to accept it cuz it contrasts the image of what he’s had of his brother for most of his life.

Accepting that his brother wasn’t just some monster that allowed their father to experiment and abuse him, the demon kings puppet soldier, the golden child, the heir. It hurts for him to hear but it he knows deep down that even despite everything he’s caused, that Meliodas was just as much as a victim as he was. That at the time, even despite the promise Mel made to protect them, he was just a kid too.

Just a terrified child that was no match for their father, an adult supervillain with no qualms about hurting his own kids. What could Meliodas have done?

He was a kid who tried to keep them safe, a kid who was traumatised abused and brainwashed into submission, a kid who never got saved. And soon Zeldris also gonna realise that there’s still a chance, a very small chance to save him from both their father and himself.

But will he take it?

Meliodas doesn’t want to accept that part of him exists because he doesn’t want to acknowledge that he liked being that and that it was part of him the whole time but he just forgot it was there.

He was taught that even the slightest bit of weakness lowered your worth as a person, that your better off dead as well the ‘I am just a weapon’ mindset, that shit was deeply ingrained in his head. So after living a happy life and the getting his memories back, Meliodas dismisses everything he gained through it as ‘weakness’, but then as he starts to realise that he may or may not have enjoyed living his life this way.

As a response, he rejects it, shutting the life out, outright wanting it all to just go away. When that doesn’t work he lashes out at it with the only thing he knows, violence.

Edit: he’s also having trouble contending with the fact that he’s not a weapon and unlike Zeldris and Estarossa who are still actively trying to grow past this label to this day, Meliodas is holding onto it for as long as he can cuz it’s the only stable identity he’s had, the most stable thing he has period.

It was the only thing that gave him value, a sense of purpose and that without it he’s nothing and he’s so resigned to it that he actively rejects the prospect of getting a new purpose, a new start cuz he thinks it won’t ever be possible.

But it is and he needs to learn that.

but Meliodas will have a choice to try and lead a life that is truly his own but it’s uncertain whether he’ll take it or not.

#nnt #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #sds #sds anime #zeldris #meliodas #nnt zeldris #nnt meliodas #geldris #i may never be your hero au #vigilante zeldris

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myristicisms · 4 months

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Small villages and close knit communities were... Vastly different compared to Midgar, to ShinRa as a whole; For years Zack never quite understood the ways of city folks, the idea of not looking out for one another even in mundane day to day life was an oddity that often left the starry eyed teen confused if not outright sad simply because Gongaga had been a village full of people watching out for one another regardless of inconvenience. Everyone knew everything about the rest of the community and did their damnedest to do what benefited the village rather than the individual themselves and Zack had grown up being taught to value kindness and respect over everything.

His mother had long since drilled into the young Fair that his dignity tied into his kindness, that a man with any semblance of honor and worth would do his best to assist those in need simply because it was the right thing to do and not because it provided some sort of benefit, that sort of kindness was a rarity in Midgar and that too was something that left a bitter pit deep within the raven haired man's heart, left it weeping for those that seldom got to experience a kindness without any strings attached simply because that was one of the beauties Gongaga offered. It takes a village to raise a child, after all, and Midgar certainly was no village.

That's why it comes as no shock when Sephiroth approaches him, concern evident between fine silver brows despite the ever present calm expression upon the older man's face and Zack has to bite his cheek to keep a straight face. That wasn't the first time he'd heard something similar and were Fair a betting man, he'd bet his life savings on it not being the last, still though it's nice to know that his efforts to provide some sort of warmth within his area hadn't gone unnoticed. “ If it's not my kindness then it'd be something else, don't'cha think? ” Aqua eyes close momentarily while leather clad fingers run through sable spikes in thought, trying to formulate something less defensive.

“ I know it's dangerous to be so soft hearted in our line of work but... Well, you can take the kid outta the village but you're not taking the village out of the kid, y'know? ” And it felt wrong to try and suppress that part of himself, there wasn't a mean bone in his body and Zack knew damned well that his choice of career certainly clashed with that golden heart that he never quite learned to fully harden despite all the grief he's come to experience. “ And honestly if it does end up getting me killed then I think I'd be fine with that, not that I'm trying to get myself killed but I'd rather die as someone that people who knew me would be proud of; That's getting a bit into downer territory though and I'm not sure you wanna hear me talk about dignity and kindness and all that, I know I hated hearing it from my parents as a kid. ”

@saishuu-heiki | Sephiroth

→ ❛ i fear one day your kindness will get you killed. great strength and tremendous weakness weaved in one, zack. ❜

#muse;; zack fair #saishuu-heiki | sephiroth #• answered ic!

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seashellblue · 11 months

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Reduce, Reuse, Recycle (Part 1)

I'm going through my Google Drive and have a bunch of old story ideas that I know in my heart I'm literally never going to see to completion.

But, I also don't want to just throw them in the trash, because even if they don't really spark much in me, maybe someone else will want to do something with them.

So! I'll be posting at most one story idea a day, though there might be some gaps for the longer ones that'll need extra time spent formatting.

I want to say these are under Copyleft, but I'm also not a lawyer and I'm not sure if I fully understand all that entails. But, if I'm not wrong, I think it means you can use any settings, characters, or plot points in these documents, as long as you let anyone else who wants to use them do so too.

First story under the cut.

Alright, here's the first of two stories collecting dust in a folder called "Cyberpunk Story". I guess I should warm y'all that I did not check this for spelling errors and / or cringe so good luck.

Silver & Sheen

Premise / Core Draw: Playing with themes of humanity / inhumanity as shown through two cyborg protagonists. Sheen embraces her inhumanity, while Silver rejects his. A twist in the final third of the story reveal that Silver is a fully synthetic android operating off the digitized mind of his dead "original", while Sheen is entirely human, remotely piloting the false body she believed to be her own.

Now, on the the stuff from the Google Doc:

Cyberpunk story, the big thing about this story is that it’s about a robot and a cyborg. The robot embraces their inhumanity and thinks themselves above weak humans (Sheen), while the cyborg rejects their artificial nature, and wishes they could go back to being a true human (Silver). Then at the end it’s revealed that Sheen is actually a %100 pure human who was remotely piloting a robot without realizing it, and Silver is actually an android with the digitized memories of a human that died decades earlier.

Moments:

Silver and Sheen stand on a rooftop overlooking the home of someone who got on the bad side of the city’s megacorp. On receiving the order to initiate their assassination, Sheen jumps headfirst into battle, but Silver stays behind even as screams erupt from whatever havoc Sheen is causing.

Silver stays on the rooftop waiting, until his cybernetic implants force him to enter the fight. Even then he resists for a few moments longer, just to see how long he can hold off his handlers this time.

…

Silver’s backstory is elaborated on. He wasn’t just some street kid his picked off the street and experimented on. He was actually the son of the very C.E.O. of the company that currently owns both him and Sheen. Injured during a hover-car accident, cybernetics were the only way to save Silver, but ever since his father has disowned him.

This flashback occurs in the middle of a heated argument in the C.E.O.’s boardroom. Silver screams at his father to look at him, and that he can’t ignore Silver forever. The C.E.O. tells his security personnel to get “that malfunctioning copy” out of his office. Silver is dragged out screaming epithets.

…

Sheen shoots Silver’s robotic cat because it annoys her, an apathetic Silver just rhetorically asks Sheen if she realizes that was expensive. Sheen bites back saying that Silver has plenty of money to get a new one, and that it doesn’t matter because the cat wasn’t real anyway, does he even realize that? Silver only says that he considered the cat a kindred spirit.

…

Silver asks Sheen why she chose to live in such a run-down house, when the pay given to them by their megacorp is more than enough to choose from the most expensive penthouses in the city. Sheen points to a structure on the horizon resembling a radio tower, then explains that the tower was once used to send signals between earth and the moon.

Sheen continues that the tower is now defunct, but it’s still kept under heavy guard, because if someone was able to get it working again, it would allow every A.I. in the city to upload themselves and escape to the moon.

The moon no longer houses any humans, though they say it still has a thriving population of A.I. who found the place much more suitable. They say it’s a utopia up there, no sadness, no death. The A.I. who made it carrying on humanity's forgotten dream of exploring distant stars.

So that’s why Sheen lives on the fringes of the city, so she can plan and scheme and dream. One day she’ll escape, and since she’s nigh immortal, it’s only a matter of time. She then begins to go on about how it must feel bad for a mortal like Silver to see the tower, considering he’ll never be able to use it. Silver doesn’t particularly care about what Sheen says.

…

Silver and Sheen are fighting, and Silver is winning. It’s explained in part through narration, and in part by words Silver says aloud, that Silver was always the faster of the two, his reflexes much better than Sheen. Sheen acknowledges that, but before Silver is able to defeat her, she reveals she manipulated the fight so they would be standing over an unfinished construction site.

As Sheen dislodges a pile of rebar on the floor above them, she tells Silver it will never matter how fast he is, because she was always the more creative of the two. A piece of rebar crushes Silver leg as Sheen leaves. She ignores Silver screams of pain and hate directed at her.

…

Sheen pushes a hard drive into Silver’s hands as the sound of security trying to breach into the tower control room grows louder. Silver tells Sheen he’s not leaving her, Sheen says this is his only chance, his and every other A.I. in the city. Sheen tells Silver she’s not afraid to take away the one reason he wants to stay, so don’t don’t force her to.

From the outside the red light of the radio tower turns on for just a moment, a candle next to the spotlights of the city. Sheen smiles as the city drops into a blackout. A single gunshot is heard from outside the tower, its light the only one remaining after the mass exodus.

…

Epilogue: Silver’s new home has a window, its view outlooking into a black sky and grey moondust. He has a new body now, now older and clearly an android, but still recognizable and resembling a human. It seems in his time since arriving on the moon, he’s taken up creating his own robots.

Amongst the half-finished projects is an android about the same age Silver was for the majority of the story. They look feminine and have human features like Silver. Silver inserts the hard drive Sheen gave him into a port in the android’s neck. She wakes up and asks what her name is, Silver tells her it’s Sterling. Sterling asks Silver who Sheen is. Silver says she’s their big sister, and that he’ll tell Sterling all about her. Sterling is led out of Silver’s workshop with a smile on her face.

#copyleft #ideas #inspiration #stories #writing #writeblr #creative writing #free to use #textpost #fiction #original story #cyberpunk #transhumanism #sci fi #science fiction

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butterflyinthewell · 3 years

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Some stuff about wheelchair!Vegeta with headcanons everywhere:

Vegeta was chronically ill before his injury due to medical abuse by Freeza. He was meant to be stronger than Goku, but will always be a half-step behind because of this, but even he doesn’t know that.

The illness stunted his growth and damaged all his organs. He recovered with lasting damage to his heart and kidneys. Saiyajin bodies compensate for damaged organs until they no longer function, so his liver and spleens(yes two) do some of the work his kidneys used to.

He gets drunk on less alcohol than other Saiyajins because of this.

In human terms he’s in chronic heart and kidney failure. He has to be very careful taking any meds that are toxic to the heart, liver and kidneys.

A human in his condition would be dead in a week. He’s been this way for decades.

His medical rap sheet is many pages long, and he paid huge amounts of money to have his medical records sealed so Freeza wouldn’t use them against him in the future. Medicines dangerous to him due to his organ damage were listed as allergies.

The Androids caused his spinal cord injury and the violent beating left him with PTSD. He already had sub-clinical PTSD symptoms before and this incident is what made it manifest fully.

He lost his ‘little’ spleen because of them. (Which is fine, it’s like a human appendix. He needs the big one, though.)

The damage to his body made his kidneys fail temporarily, so he was put on dialysis until they spontaneously started working again.

For a short time he was a quadriplegic on a ventilator because the surgery to repair his shattered 10th thoracic vertebra caused massive swelling in his spinal cord and brain. Nobody knew if he would survive the night after surgery, and the true extent of how the spinal cord injury affected him couldn’t be assessed until the swelling went down.

Saiyajin central nervous systems swell up when their brain or spinal cord gets punctured or exposed. It’s a vestigial trait from billions of years ago when their evolutionary ancestors’ bodies became toxic to any predator trying to eat them. This “immune edema” normally isn’t survivable, so Vegeta is the first and only Saiyajin to experience it and live.

He was in a coma from May until August. Nobody knew what condition he would be in if he woke up at all. But he did, and spent a long time in a minimally conscious state before becoming alert enough to communicate.

For awhile, he couldn’t use his vocal cords even if he had a Passy-Muir valve attached, so he communicated via AAC through a tablet and a mouth switch.

The brain edema caused neurons to sheer apart. While Saiyajin brains are capable of more neuroplasticity than human brains are, he still sustained a traumatic brain injury. He was diagnosed with epilepsy (he has tonic clonic seizures) caused by scar tissue all over his brain, and it’s inoperable because of the immune edema response. He takes meds to control his seizures and only has breakthroughs when something drastically lowers his seizure threshold.

Vegeta understands epilepsy because Raditz was born with it. Raditz’s was a lot worse and no medication controlled it. (Raditz had focal aware, atonic and tonic clonic seizures. His could be triggered by strobes, but Vegeta’s aren’t.)

Raditz was shameless about his seizures. They were just a thing that happened. Vegeta, in contrast, finds it humiliating if anyone other than Bulma or Trunks sees him have one, doubly so if he wets or soils himself during it.

Raditz tended to get confused, hyperactive and giddy the day after a seizure. Vegeta is bone-tired, struggles with brain fog and has trouble with his short term memory the day after a seizure. It takes him two days to fully recover.

Once all the brain issues settled down, it became clear that Vegeta is a t10 paraplegic, but he still gets autonomic dysreflexia because Saiyajins are more easily prone to it than humans. His experience of it is also worse than humans because he goes right to high blood pressure and a pounding headache. This drops his seizure threshold and it’s a mess. The only thing to control it is stopping the pain signal that’s happening below his lesion and keeping his head above his heart until his BP goes down.

Saiyajins have redundant nerves throughout their spine, so Vegeta can feel his toes, the soles of his feet, his tail scar and some spots on his butt. He can flex his butt muscles, but can’t wiggle his toes. He has no sensation from his belly button to the tops of his feet.

He can hobble along wearing knee-ankle-foot orthotics and using forearm crutches (four point gait) because those muscles in his butt give just enough movement to initiate a leg swing while gravity does the rest. He walks therapeutically to keep his legs from completely atrophying, but prefers his chair to get around.

He’s more prone to G-LOC in the gravity room due to orthostatic hypotension. Bulma programmed the computer to check his blood pressure periodically and tell him to power up if it drops too low since powering up raises blood pressure.

He tends to have seizures if he passes out from G-LOC. His brain is very sensitive to lack of oxygen since his injury.

He can exercise and train in up to 700Gs, but can’t fight in anything above 95 because his blood pressure and unhealthy heart can’t cope. He can die of anoxia if he’s turned upside down, abruptly flipped right side up again and held there while all the blood goes to his legs.

Vegeta doesn’t measure his disability by human standards. He measures it by Saiyajin standards. To able-bodied humans he doesn’t seem all that affected by what happened, but from his perspective he’s extremely affected.

The PTSD can make him violent and quick to anger. He has flashbacks and nightmares. If he gets triggered hard enough, he dissociates to the point of memory blackout. Sometimes he has bouts of depression.

Manual wheelchairs made for humans can’t survive him. He goes to push the wheels and they fly off, or it flies apart if he powers up, or it collapses in the gravity room, so Bulma made him some Saiyajin-proof chairs.

His current wheelchair LOOKS like an ultralight rigid open frame manual wheelchair, but it actually weighs about fifty pounds and is made of similar material to his old armor and attack ball. Unlike us in the real world, he’s got a button to push that’ll poof his chair into a capsule if he’s getting in a car or something. Btw, his chair has a white frame (hanger at 90 degrees and tapered to fit his legs), a hard backing, dark blue upholstery, a silver open tube footrest, black wheels, black push rims, white spoke covers, gold casters and gold bolts.

A regular human probably wouldn’t be able to use the wheelchair at all due to its weight.

His chair can survive up to 700 Gs in the gravity room, can survive him powering up and can take direct ki blasts without falling apart. This is because the frame is solid, not hollow tubes, and the wheels are also solid so they can’t pop or go flat.

His wheels have micro-treads, but he’s got “off road” wheels with huge treads he can switch to if he’s going somewhere outdoors or muddy.

He’s gentle about moving his chair around inside the Capsule Corporation compound, but give him a straightaway with no obstacles and he can shoot himself forward at 50mph on one full-strength push.

One of his fighting moves is to knock someone down, pop a wheelie and slam his casters down on them. Sometimes he keeps going by running them completely over. This could kill an ordinary human.

He can cheat stairs by flying, but finds that annoying and will use a ramp if it’s available.

He can still fight how he used to, just no kicks or leg movement.

All the pills he has to take (extended release Tegretol for his epilepsy, Valium for when a panic attack won’t stop) require a special coating so he metabolizes it with the full benefit instead of getting all the medication in his system at once for an hour. Injected meds work on him the same as a human, though.

Morphine is the go-to pain med when he’s having AD because he metabolizes it the fastest (he sprays it on his gums) but it zonks him out so it’s literally ever only used in dire emergencies where the cause of pain can’t be found or fixed by external means. Using morphine requires he gets blood work after to check on his liver.

Trunks is the only one in the story who grew up with Vegeta in the wheelchair and seeing him being tended to by Bulma whenever his health issues came up, so all his dad’s medical stuff is normal to him. He’s a sweet helper of a kid too and will sometimes ask if he can push Vegeta somewhere.

Actually, Vegeta kinda hates being fussed over, but he feels loved when family does the fussing. If it’s anybody else, though? He gets irritable and embarrassed.

He HATES it if people touch, lean on or move his chair without permission. Gohan makes the mistake of moving the chair exactly one time and learns a really hard lesson to never do it again.

Bulma can sit in the wheelchair without asking when Vegeta isn’t in it, and sometimes she does if she’s sitting at his bedside after he had a medical issue or seizure.

VEGETA’S DISABILITY WILL NOT BE CURED, EVER, NOT EVEN WITH THE DRAGON BALLS.

Vegeta sees his wheelchair as a reminder that he survived something that killed all the other Z-fighters. It’s a source of pride, not shame!

Sometimes he refers to his wheelchair as his throne.

Wheelchair!Vegeta is sexy af.

#Vegeta #DBZ #Cyndi is writing #wheelchair!Vegeta #Mirai timeline AU #fanfic in progress #yes the gif is supposed to be still

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pressedinthepages · 4 years

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Curiosity

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Eskel & Ciri (Platonic/Familial)

Word Count: 1412

Rating: T

Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request [from @sometimesiwrite Ciri and Uncle Eskel??? OMG DID THEY LEAVE ESKEL IS CHARGE OF “THE TALK???”] i am LIVING for the awkwardness that is Eskel.

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: discussion of consent, as well as the use of r*pe for definition purposes, language

Eskel really wishes he had gone hunting.

“Uncle Eskel?” Ciri’s voice chimes across the table, empty save for the aforementioned Witcher. Geralt and Lambert left this morning to rid the surrounding area of a family of draconids that have settled in, and Vesemir has gone to the lake to catch some supper for everyone. “Can I ask you about sex?”

Eskel’s spoon clatters to the table as he blinks at the girl-no, the young woman. Cirilla is growing into a young woman, and it makes sense that she should ask someone about that part of life. However, Eskel is not sure that he’s the best person for that. “Shouldn’t you ask Geralt?”

Ciri scoffs, shoveling another generous portion of jerky into her mouth. “Well, I did. He got all pale and he kept just shaking his head, whispering “Fuck” as he fled the room. And before you can say it, I did ask Lambert too-”

“Well, there’s a mistake.”

“But he just doubled over laughing and told me to ask you. Yennefer won’t be back until winter, and I can’t ask Vesemir, that would be weird…”

“And this isn’t?” Eskel grumbles, trying to figure out where exactly in his life he fucked up so royally to lead to this moment of having to teach someone else’s damn kid about sex.

“Not really, you’re the sanest person here,” Ciri says nonchalantly. She is a summer child, having just turned fourteen around the solstice. Eskel finds himself thinking that, if they were here under different circumstances, she would be undergoing the first of the Trials soon.

He shakes that line of thought away, focusing back on Ciri. He sighs, resigned to a very long afternoon. “Can we go sit in the library?”

Ciri nods, finishing up her lunch at a relaxed pace. She still has some tendencies of being raised in a royal family, such as eating as slowly as she pleases, thank you very much. Eskel stands, depositing his empty bowl and spoon into the washbasin for later. He trudges towards the library as if he were headed to the gallows, his steps echoing through the empty halls.

The scent of old books and abandoned alchemical experiments greets Eskel as he shoulders open the great wooden door to the library. He sits in a comfy chair by the fireplace, casting Igni to help warm the room. Autumn is approaching, leaving some of the larger areas in the decrepit castle a bit drafty. Eskel finds a copy of Half a Century of Poetry, or as Geralt calls it, A Load of Horse Shit. Eskel opens it up to a random page, reading through the tales of his brother as he waits for the Princess.

He doesn’t have to wait long, for she soon tips open the door in and peeks inside. When Ciri finds Eskel just as he said he would be she sags with palpable relief, stepping fully into the room and sitting in a seat directly across from him.

“Right,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I have a few questions.”

Eskel hums, closing the book and setting it on the ground next to him. Should’ve grabbed the copy of the Beastiary that’s hollowed out with a flask of wine…

“So, I know about a woman’s cycles,” Eskel flushes, remembering that debacle of a few years prior. How they all missed that Ciri had hit that part of womanhood was beyond him, and he had vowed to do better by her. I guess this is where I do that, huh?

“But I just want to understand the mechanics of it all, I just don’t see what the big deal of it is.” Eskel watches as Ciri messes with a stray thread on the hem of her shirt, apparently a habit picked up from himself. He smiles to himself, pondering how to start what will be the beginning of a bit of an uncomfortable conversation.

“Well,” Eskel clears his throat, attempting to soften his voice. It doesn’t work, it never does. “When a man and a woman...enjoy each other’s company…well, it doesn’t have to be that way, it can be two men, or two women too, or just people together, oh Melitele…” He runs his hand down the scarred side of his face, attempting to get his thoughts together. Ciri only looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“You know how Lambert goes all rigid whenever something touches him by accident?” Ciri’s brows scrunch up in confusion with the sudden change of direction, but she nods along anyways. “Well, that’s because he’s very sensitive to touch. Ever since he went through the Trials, and probably even before that. People touched Lambert without his permission, and they hurt him. I’m sure you’ve heard how his father treated him?”

“Of course, I still can’t understand how a parent could do such cruel things to their own child, or any child for that matter.”

Eskel shakes his head, knowing just how far some people’s ruthlessness can go. “Well, sometimes that happens to adults too, with sex. If someone isn’t interested in someone else, or they do something that they don’t like, or anything to make them uncomfortable, it’s not okay. It’s rape.”

Ciri’s eyes widen at the word, having heard it before in discussions eavesdropped upon in court. She never understood the connotation, but she knew the pain that it could cause for those affected. “So, if someone wants to have sex with me, and I say no, but they do it anyway, that’s rape?”

Eskel nods before adding, “Even if you don’t exactly say “no,” but definitely not “yes,” it’s still rape. And you can change your mind, too. You can be right in the middle of something with a person and decide that you don’t want that anymore. Just say the word, and they should leave you alone. And if they don’t, you fight like hell. No one should take that choice away from you, ever.”

Ciri sits quietly for a few moments, clearly thinking about what was said. “Okay, and what about when they do want to have sex, what then?”

Eskel’s mouth gapes like a fish out of water, unsure of exactly where to start. He mentally curses every single gods-forsaken person that is supposed to be in the keep before launching into a very awkward discussion about different kinds of sex, how it can fit into relationships, always reiterating on the importance of consent. Ciri interjects with questions and further discussion from time to time, and if Eskel didn’t know any better, he would think that she was just trying to prolong his torture. But he does know better, that Ciri is really just trying to understand this part of life.

“Hey Uncle Eskel,” Ciri says, standing with a confidence gained from years at court and a sureity gained from her training in Kaer Morhen, “thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

Eskel only grunts as she takes her leave, peering out the window to watch the sun begin to dip below the horizon. He heaves himself out of the chair and walks to the courtyard, finding the three missing Witchers all arriving through the gates. Vesemir tosses him a bag of fish, which Eskel promptly sets to the side. He puts his hands on his hips in his best impression of the older Witcher as he watches Geralt dismount Roach.

“You have a nice day?” Geralt asks, raising an eyebrow at Eskel’s stance.

“Fucking marvelous, thanks.” Eskel’s voice is a low growl, his lips pursed in annoyance. “Apparently, Ciri’s father has been ignoring her questions about sex, and left her to ask me instead.”

Geralt’s eyes widen comically, and Eskel can’t help the way his lips turn up at the corners. “And what did you tell her?”

“The truth, you moron. Nothing salacious, but she needs to learn about this stuff Geralt. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

Geralt sighs, running his hand through his silver hair. “You’re right. She already so grown up. I don’t want her to grow up…”

Eskel moves to stand before Geralt, pulling his brother into an embrace. He pointedly ignores Lambert’s faux gagging before patting Geralt on the back a few times as he steps back. “You owe me so much alcohol.”

Geralt chuckles, nodding as they all walk off towards the keep, ready to tuck into a night of rest and relaxation, or at least as much as a bunch of Witchers can get.

#eskel & ciri #platonic #uncle eskel

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Cold Nights — Taehyung

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Lace)

Wordcount: 4.7k words

Genre: (mild) smut, fluff, romance

Rating: suggested 18+

Hi babes! I’m back with the Cold Nights drabbles, and after what happened in Girls’ Night, I think Taehyung’s was the story I wanted to explore the most, since the chemistry between him and Lace felt so natural and the conclusion naturally called for me to pick up the story from there. Although reading Girls’ Night is not necessary (even though I had lots of fun writing it and I selfishly took the liberty to write that before continuing with next prompt), I would highly recommend to read at least the second part, just to get the vibe of these two (you can find it here, btw.).

While Girls’ Night was written with the girls as OCs, in this case we have a classic readerxTaehyung fic.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is not explicitly smutty, though there are a few steamy passages (making out, teasing) and heavy flirting (mentions of masturbation). Also, Lace is a domme, as said in Girls’ Night, and the topic is discussed in this drabble too. Reader has pretty much a lot of experience in BDSM (mentions of lessons and club), and has had only one relationship, with a girl. Sexual orientation is discussed. Also, Taehyung shifts from cool kid to cute kid a lot. There’s a sprinkle of sexy driver Taehyung but also soft cuddlebug fluffy Taehyung. You can’t have one without the other, yk.

Wordcount is around 4,7k (I know, a bit long for a drabble BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY).

Also, here is my masterlist

Enjoy!!!✨

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Watching Taehyung drive was something incredible. He looked like a demigod from Hollywood movies from the Sixties. He was so careless, so undoubtedly timeless, so iconic and unbothered. You wanted a picture.

And his driving was excellent. He was attentive, with a soft driving style, cruising down the half empty streets like a ghost, floating, decelerating with care before coming to a stop. He seemed to stop at yellow traffic lights a lot. He took the pauses to observe you, the way light seemed to shimmer on the silver details of your leather jacket. Rummaging in your handbag, you found your lipstick and mirror, deciding to reapply the cherry tint just because you could.

He stared, mesmerised.

You were so charming.

A diva.

A muse.

He was surprised at how such a small gesture unsettled him so much, making his insides flutter with nerves and arousal. He wondered how many of your ordinary actions could turn him on. He was eager to find out. Write a list. Submit it to your scrutiny. Show you how incredibly sexy you were in his eyes even when simply checking your nails or furrowing your brow in disapproval.

“Do you wanna stay in the car or do you want to take a walk?” He asked as he took a turn.

“Oh, I don’t mind. Your choice.” You said tentatively.

“I think it would sound extremely bad if I told you I know a spot.” He chuckled and you followed.

Looking down, you bit your lip. “I think it would sound extremely bad if I told you I’d like to see your spot.” You looked at him as both your faces tinged with a shy blush and two matching mischievous grins.

“Then we’re heading out, darling.” He said, focusing again on the road.

Apparently his spot was somewhere a bit out of the city, a ten minutes drive away. The winding street led you to a small clearing with a parking lot. You had never visited there, but you noticed an octagonal pavilion. Bukak Skyway, a sign read.

“The sky is a bit clearer here,” He said. “I swear I’m not going to kill you.” He laughed. “Namjoon likes to bike all the way here. It’s a famous spot among cyclists. I have a throw in the backseat. Do you wanna go out, sit on the bonnet?” He asked, trying to break the tension.

You thought about it. Staying in the car meant less chances of being seen. And staying warm. But going out meant Taehyung being way less dangerous; the public situation keeping both of you from doing potentially inappropriate things. “Will people see?”

“Does it bother you, being seen with me?” He asked, frowning, his expression dead serious.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble or people seeing you with a girl, starting rumors.” You shrugged and furrowed your brow.

“There’s maybe six or seven people. It’s dark. I’ll be covered. No one will see, sweetie.” Taehyung reassured you. “But we can stay in the car, if you prefer.”

“Let’s go out.” You said, smiling.

“Great choice.” He pulled out his phone and exited the car, grabbing the blanket he kept in the backseat.

You also exited the car, shivering and hugging yourself at the cold bite of the night air. “Wait.” He called, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. “We can stay in the car if you prefer.”

“Let’s watch the city lights.” You replied, a bit uncomfortable since you felt your hands reaching out for him, but changing your mind at the last minute.

“Let’s do that.” He walked to the front of his car, propping his hip against the hood. As you walked closer, he held out his hands. “May I help you?” He asked, gesturing at your waist.

You blushed and nodded. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit heavy.”

Still he placed his hands on your waist, over the blanket. “Irrelevant. You’re a lady. Let me treat you like one.” He replied, unfazed before helping you jump and sit on his car. It was low enough that a small jump was all you needed. You fixed the blanket around you before he pushed himself up and sat beside you. The front of the car was right before a short wall, delimiting the parking lot from the street winding a few metres down. The quite steep hill allowed a clear view of the skyline, stretching out in front of you without any obstacle to your sight, Seoul and its towers glimmering in a humanly mirror of the night sky above. “How has it been?” He asked.

“Good. I’ve received a commission for a wedding so I’ve been busy.” You explained. “Plus spring-summer collection has arrived at the store. We’re studying arrangements.”

“Great.” He replied. “I’ve been working a lot too.”

“The girls mentioned your schedules.” You threw in.

“Yes.” He said simply, scrolling on his phone until a soft acoustic song came on. He placed his phone down. He had a playlist for moments like this. He didn’t have one for moments like this with you, but he aspired to build one together. He simply let his favourites play.

“You’ll be leaving for Japan tomorrow.” You said, half a question.

“Yes.” He replied again, looking at the lights of the city below. “The flight is at ten am. We’re leaving the city at eight.”

“And then the tour.” You commented.

He half saw it coming. “Yes.”

You looked at the sky. It felt like an old blanket thrown over your head, so old that bugs had eaten small holes through which light came in. It felt cosy. Domestic. Confidential.

“Is that why you have been running from me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, placing his palms together and shoving them between his knees to warm his hands.

The blanket was big enough. You scooted closer to him and tucked him in too.

He looked at you, at your small gesture of affection, your eyes meeting. You simply smiled as your arm pressed against his, shoulder to elbow. “I’ll be very honest, Taehyung.”

One more thing about you that turned him on: the way your lips curled around the second syllable of his name.

“I like you.” He said, direct and shameless, spelling the words with such certainty and determination that your heart lost a beat. Seeing it written on screen was nothing similar to hearing him actually say it.

“I like you too.” You replied.

He smiled and looked down, acting like a coy schoolboy.

“However, I think there is stuff you need to know.” You took a small pause to gather and organise your thoughts. “This tour thing scares me. I want to build something strong, something long term. I can’t do flings, Taehyung.”

“It’s okay. We can get to know each other and see if it works.” He replied, already trying to convince you to give him just one chance.

“We don’t have the luxury of time, though. You’ll be gone for how long? Two months?”

“Seven weeks.” He replied composedly and efficiently.

“And we have what? Four weeks between Japan and the Asian tour?”

“I’ll be in Korea until mid-May, then we actually start travelling.” He said, like a scolded puppy.

“That’s five weeks. And I doubt you’ll have time when you’re working for the concerts.” You objected. “You see how awful the timing is?”

“We can take it slow, see each other and hang out. No need for fancy, big things. We can do this.” He said, gesturing at your current location and activity. “No dating, no stuff. Simply getting to know each other.”

You bit your lip, frowning. “I’ll grow fond of you.” You said.

“Isn’t that the final goal?” He asked cheekily.

Your voice shook a little. “I don’t want to get used to you and see you leave.”

His eyes were wide and sweet when he met your gaze. “Well, I can promise you I’ll text, and call, and I know it’s not like being there, but we can use the distance to see how we handle stuff when we’re apart.”

“Isn’t it too early to be apart, a few weeks into a… an acquaintance?” You said, searching for the word.

“We’ll see if we miss each other like friends or more.” He said, trying to make everything sound sane and reasonable.

You looked at the city. How many people were out there, alone? How many girls were dreaming of being right here, right now, with him? “You’re dangerous for me, Taehyung.” You said, already feeling how easily he could manipulate you. “I would let you do wrong things to me. Because I like you that much.” You murmured.

“I promise I would never do anything to hurt you.” He said, turning to fully look at you. “I’ll make sure we don’t cross the line.” He said, and in that moment all the passion and the excitement and the arousal suffocated, tamed in his chest and stomach. It felt like turning an inferno into a candlelight. He would keep hormones at bay to grant himself a chance. He knew how fast the tour could go by. “We’ll go out. On walks. We could do this again, or we could go out early, watch the sunrise from Bukhansan. Whatever. I just wanna spend time with you. Give you a chance to know me.” He nuzzled into the blanket, but he was secretly looking for your perfume, trying to take in all the small details that made you you.

You let the conversation slip before trying to direct it on the topic that was worrying you the most. Gathering your courage, you spoke. “You aren’t curious about my bag, in the apartment?” You asked.

“If you were comfortable with it, you would tell. No need to ask you about it.” He shrugged. “I have nothing against it. I think everyone has their reasons. And there’s nothing strange or shameful about it. You like it? Good for you.” He smiled, not a pinch of malice in his voice or expression.

“I took lessons of several techniques of domming in a BDSM club here in Seoul.”

“So you’re a dominatrix?” Taehyung asked, his expression warm, as if he were asking about your hobby or the weather.

“Yes, but I’m not active anymore. If I wanted, I could be one.” You tried to explain yourself,

“What do you mean?”

“It means I have the technical and practical preparation but I haven’t participated in a scene in a while.”

“How long.” He asked, still chatting about it neutrally.

“About… four months.” You counted them. “Yeah.”

“How did you decide to take lessons?”

You laughed at the memory. “A woman recommended I tried after my yoga classes were disappointing. I started learning and I found out I liked that. Back then I was in a very vulnerable moment. I wanted to enter university and study business, so that I could build a firm out of the atelier, you know. Unfortunately, I didn’t pass. I grew desperate, started eating a lot out of stress and gained a lot of weight. Not only I felt like I was losing my dream but also my reality. I was literally one of those skeletrical models before, and then with all the weight I gained…” You gestured at your body.

“But it helped you, the course I mean.” Taehyung ignored your reference to your body.

“Yes. After a year I was even more confident than when I was skinny and full of dreams. I got healthy again. And with the confidence boost and the new attitude I managed to enter an online university, which was more suitable since I was already working both at the shop and at the club.” You smiled. “Plus I liked the sense of control and peace you need when you’re involved in a scene.”

He nodded. “I’m happy it all worked out.” He nodded some more before his mind produced one more question. “Is domination a non-negotiable aspect of your relationships?” He asked.

“No, I think. My first partner was a girl I had met at the club, but after that I didn’t ever mix the two.”

He didn’t even react to the fact, he simply took it in. He would never judge and he himself was not the type to consider gender a determining factor in terms of sexual attraction. Although he was a bit worried you were attracted to women exclusively. What if you would never like him like that?

You continued. “I had a few dates, never anything serious. And of course, I taught and I took part in scenes at the club, but it never led to sex.” You explained. “Sexual attraction is a tricky concept to me, I think.”

“So you’ve had just one relationship?” He asked, his expression neutral, however his slightly raised eyebrows gave away a bit of surprise.

“Yes.” You replied.

“With a girl?” He asked again.

“Yup.” You confirmed, nodding.

“But you’ve slept with men too, right?” He said.

You grinned. “Are you trying to make sure you’re the first?” You teased.

“I’m just asking. I don’t want to—” He shook his head. “I just need to know that you like me. Sexually speaking.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Little do you know. “I do. I think gender has little to do with actual attraction. I don’t think labels are important.”

“I agree on that.” He said, nodding, biting his lip.

“And I’m really attracted to you.” You took a big breath. “I might say something inappropriate, but—” You laughed embarrassedly. “I don’t mind domming. I like it. I’ve been doing it for a while, I’m familiar and it feels comfortable, but I’ve never felt the kind of attraction that makes me want to bend over backward for someone.” You paused. Took a deep breath. Continued. “Having this thing, with you… It’s something I’m not comfortable with. Because I feel you’re so much stronger than me that I don’t even want to put up a fight.”

He looked at the city.

He looked at you. You were rubbing your hands together out of embarrassment and the night chill. You placed one around the base of your neck, rubbing your wrist with the other in an attempt to warm yourself. You were so unbelievably beautiful.

He tsked and smiled. “Stop beating around the bush, sweetheart. It doesn’t suit you. What do you really want to say?”

You frowned. “I’m not comfortable saying it.” You murmured.

A chill piano piece started playing from his phone, a warm, tender voice of a woman mixing up with it.

“Okay. I can’t make you do it.” He pouted and nodded, looking away in the distance. “You know I’ve liked you since I first saw you. And there’s little you can say or do to push me away.”

You exhaled and tried to explain yourself. This was exactly the reason why Taehyung was dangerous. He asked, you delivered. “I have rarely felt attraction for someone because I’ve rarely found someone stronger, bolder, smarter than me. But then I started talking to you.” You shook your head in disbelief at your own confession. “You make me want to do things I’ve never craved before. And you being more powerful than me makes me want to let you take control.” You took a pause. “It makes me want to submit to you.”

He turned. “Is that why you need time? You want to get used to this?”

He is so smart. So attuned to people’s feelings and thoughts. He might as well be a mentalist.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

“And you want to get to know me to see if you can trust me?” He asked.

“Yes.” You confirmed again.

“I get it.” He nodded. “It must be something new, to see things from a new perspective. You said you feel uncomfortable. Does it make you feel bad, this thing with me?” He asked gently.

“I’m afraid of people finding out of the club, bringing it up, using it against you.” You admitted.

He shook his head. “What are the chances?”

“I used a nickname, and we have strict non-disclosure agreements. The place is often dark and sometimes we use masks, but I couldn’t use those when teaching. Anyway, there are pretty famous and powerful people in the club. I think it’s in everyone’s interest to keep mouths shut. Still.” You shrugged. “I want to protect you, Tae.”

His eyes turned into sweet, dark pools. “I don’t care.” He stated. “For now it’s not an issue. I’ll talk to our lawyer, see if there are any potential troubles with this. We both have the duty to protect each other.” He stated with certainty. “And once we’re sure and if this becomes more, then we’ll find a way.”

You felt warm in your chest. It felt good to be protected. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for opening up, darling.” He caressed your cheek tenderly, smiling at you.

You smiled back and looked down, away from his intense gaze.

He moved his hand away. “So you want to sleep with me?”

You laughed. “Sleeping is not the word I would use, no.”

“Which one?” He said.

“Which one would I use?” You asked, trying to clear up his request. Sometimes he spoke so cryptically.

He hummed in confirmation.

“I would say…” You thought about it. “I would say ‘spend the night’.”

“We could spend the night here. Talking until we have no secrets left to say. The night is amazing for secrets.” He mused.

“What about your flight tomorrow?” You asked, suddenly serious.

“Let’s go back to secrets and spending the night.” He said, trying to make his incumbent dark thoughts evaporate.

“What about them?” You were both staring at the city lights. Seoul felt so far away. Like a hologram. Or maybe like for a moment you had been subtracted from that world. Like you were stuck into a mirror, where nothing really, truly happens. Where people could see possibilities and daydreams, an alternative reality in which everyone could have a fragment of fictitious life. You felt like a mirage, ready to turn into dust, sand and smoke, a bizarre refraction of light.

Taehyung turned and stared at you. “I’m dreaming you won’t disappear, once morning comes. That this won’t be just a fantasy.”

It all turned even less real when his phone started playing a ballad about lights and stars.

“I won’t disappear.” You whispered back.

He looked at the city. “I need to tell you a secret.”

You turned with an arched eyebrow and an upturned pout.

Adorable, he thought. He leaned in towards your ear. “I’ve been asking myself if you had a fling with Namjoon and Vixen for the whole night. It feels good to hear that you like me.”

You were so close. Apparently being out in the open air, in a very public space had done little to keep things appropriate.

“I have a secret too.” You whispered, so close to his face. To his lips. You leaned in closer to his ear. “I have no fling with them. I’ve had no one for months. Years, if you exclude the scenes at the club — and I never had sex during those — and I’ve never had a man. I can’t wait to feel ready to give in to you. I promise I just need some time. Be patient and I’ll make it worthy. I swear.” You confessed, so raw with emotion.

He looked at you, inscrutable at first; then his face melted with wonder and joy. “All the time you need, darling.”

You smiled.

You both turned to look at the city. And then you turned to look at him. He was so beautiful. Glowing. Happy. Meditative and cool, like an indifferent god. Like Seoul could suddenly switch off with a general black out, and he wouldn’t even notice. He would just smile and cheer for the stars glowing brighter.

“I have another secret, Taehyung.” You murmured. He simply brought his ear to his lips, his gaze still focused away. You licked your lip and whispered, “I feel like if you kissed me now, I would literally glow in happiness.”

He turned to look at you. “Isn’t it going too fast?” He asked before shaking his head. “I mean, I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I’m sure.”

He looked in the distance again. You frowned and took it as a ‘no’.

And then he turned, cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. His hand could cover half of your face. It was enormous. You didn’t let your brain go that way. “I’m going to be sweet. Stop me whenever.” He murmured, before pecking your lips with his.

It was so short and light you almost didn’t feel it. Still, the tingling on your lips was a living trace of it, like stardust had inadvertently brushed over your skin. His body turned into a furnace beside you, or maybe you had suddenly warmed up when he pressed his lips to yours more insistently. “I’m gonna go harder at this.” He spoke on your lips.

Fuck, it was so sweet of him to tell you. He felt so gentle. Even when he started nibbling on your lower lip, encasing it between his lips, sucking it gently before pecking your mouth with his. The moment you held his upper lip between yours, tugging at it gently with your teeth, he lost control and moaned, letting your tongue tease the tip of his. His hand disappeared into your hair, pulling you close. His mouth forced yours to open as your lips crushed together, your tongues intertwining in a sensual and suasive dance made of twirls and small licks. Your hand flew to his hair, caressing his nape, the other one meeting his waist, turning him towards you.

Your whole body was on fire. The night felt so alight, so filled with possibilities now that even this was happening, too. It felt like the most appropriate time to begin something in the quiet and secrecy that the loving, protecting darkness allowed you.

His right hand appeared on your thigh, placed there gently, not gripping, not exploring. Simply staying, existing in that strange, assertive way Taehyung exists, like he is a totem standing in the middle of time and space, piercing them together, one to the other.

Your breath was laboured once you parted. His hand moved up, to your waist. He couldn’t resist from feeling the fleshy, material reality of this late night daydream, its real consistency. He let you breathe, nudging his lips against yours. “Another.” He whispered, diving in again.

And you let him. If this was the way he intended to do things with you, hell yes, you would let him.

His lips were soft, wet and warm, perfect around yours. He started alternating between your lower and upper lip, his hand finally grabbing the flesh of your waist, tugging you into him.

You pulled at the hair on his nape delicately, trying to part from him. It felt atrocious but it was necessary. Your judgement was beginning to get clouded. You should stop. “Tae, baby. Let’s take a moment.”

He nodded, pressing his forehead to yours and parting from you with a small peck on the corner of your mouth. “Sorry.” He murmured.

“Nothing to be sorry about. It feels amazing.” You smiled, caressing him on his neck. “I’m just cold. And I think it’s better if I head home before I do stuff I could regret.”

He looked a bit lost. “Would you regret getting carried away with me?” He asked, worried.

“No.” You replied without hesitation. “And that’s the problem.” You kissed his lips chastely. “But getting carried away is different from trusting you and willingly, consciously giving you everything I have.” You kissed him again, caressing his hair off his forehead, fixing his beanie. “And that’s the way I want it with you.” You bent to his ear. “I want to say ‘yes, sir’ to your every request. I want you to do to me everything you want. I want you to own me so fully that I’ll beg you to use me for your pleasure.” You whispered in his ear, slowly, the words getting tangled up in a net that you hoped would capture him and convince him.

His deep moan made you chuckle lightly, brushing your mouth against his. At this, his tongue lashed out, the tip curling around your lower lip. “I’m so drunk on you.” He growled. “I want you so much.”

You shook your head faintly, touching his face, the light stubble giving you the strange certainty that he was real, there, in front of you. “I know. I promise I’ll repay your patience in kind.” You looked at him intensely, trying to show him just how much you wanted him too. “I’ll repay generously, too.”

His eyes closed, his face nuzzling into your neck. “I don’t want to let you go just yet. I’m afraid this will turn out to be a one time thing.”

As your earring got caught in his beanie, you had a sudden eureka. “Sit up, Tae.” You said gently.

He got wide eyed and pouty for a second before wearing his poker face and obeying your command. Cupping his face, you smiled at him. “Let me.” You caressed his cheeks as you moved your hands away, bringing them to your earlobe and unlatching one of your earrings. It was a simple pearl surrounded by small rhinestones. Carefully you moved it to his naked ear, delicately pushing the needle through the tiny hole, securing it in the back with the clasp.

Looking at him, you smiled, biting your lip. “You’ll give it back on our next date.” You said, blushing softly, looking at him through your lashes.

Slowly his lips curled up, forming the cutest shy smile you had ever seen.

“My pretty boy.” You said, fixing the small lock of hair coming out of his beanie and framing his face. He wrapped his arms around your middle and hid his face in your neck.

“Thank you.” He said, simply.

“It’s okay, tiger cub.” You quipped back playfully.

Still blushing, he parted from you. “We should go, you’re shivering.” He said, jumping off the bonnet. “Come on.” He grinned at you.

God, you had a crush.

You followed him, still wrapped in his blanket, quickly opening the car and sitting, rubbing your hands together to muster some warmth to them.

He entered next to you and started the car, turning the AC on. He reached across the seats, grabbing your hands and rubbing them in his. “We should have stayed in.” He whispered.

“But the view...” You objected.

He smiled, bringing your joined hands to his lips, placing small kisses all over them. His lips were so hot.

“You’re right.” He smiled, placing your hands on his knee as he looked around, backing the car out of the parking lot and starting your drive back home. “You should insert your address on the GPS.” He murmured, his eyes glued on the road ahead.

“You sure? I can take pub—”

“Don’t you even dare. I’ll be sleeping on the plane. I can drive you.” He rumbled.

You raised your eyebrows and did as he told you.

“It’s just ten minutes from the dorms. Fifteen from my apartment.” He commented, noticing your address.

You shrugged and hid into your shoulders. “Thank you for driving me.”

“I’m being selfish.” He grinned, his eyes still on the road. “This way I’ll have you close for longer.”

Grinning, your sank into the seat. The drive was uneventful. Your left hand moved back onto his knee, his hand joining yours every now and then.

Seeing your building appear brought a bit of disappointment. You had grown used to the warmth of the car, the low background music, the comfort of the fabric of his jeans under your palm.

“This is yours?” He asked, looking at the small five-floor building with a restaurant down below.

You hummed in approval.

“Any parking spot close?” He asked. “I only want to accompany you to your door. No fancy business.” He promised.

“There’s the alley — wait left now!” You announced hurriedly.

He did so quickly. The neighbourhood was quiet and thankfully the sudden turn didn’t cause any inconvenience.

Still, he managed to drive smoothly, finding a row of parked cars and following the order. “Here we go.”

You grabbed your bag and moved the blanket on the seat as you exited the car.

He quickly moved around the car, grabbing your hand. “I don’t think anyone will see us. Or recognise me.” He said, following your lead.

“Here we are.” You said, awkwardly standing in front of the entrance to your building in a slight penumbra which eased your nerves a little.

“When will I see you again?” He asked eagerly.

“After Japan.” You said, smiling.

“We’ll be back Thursday next week, around midday.” He said. “Would you be free in the afternoon? I have a friend in a gallery who could book us a late private tour.” He explained.

You laughed and tried to recall your shift. You could find an agreement with your colleagues anyway. “Then I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Good.” He said, with his signature serious look.

Just to give him a sweet goodbye, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his, without allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Oh, come on.” He whispered, chasing your mouth with his, eyes closed. “More.” He whined.

You let him. His mouth met yours again, both his and your lips immediately parting to melt in that same scorching desire. Your arms were already wrapping around his frame.

“Let me go.” You murmured.

“You let me go, miss octopus.” He teased. You stayed in each others arms for a few seconds, your bag abandoned at your feet. You stared in silence before he spoke. “I’ll be thinking about this all night.” He said, cupping your nape and pressing a bunch of small kisses on your mouth.

“Me too.” You moved your lips closer to his ear. “My hands will probably be between my legs while I do so.”

He snarled and groaned against your ear. “You’re a tease.” His hand palmed your hip heavily. His voice was husky when he spoke again. “Am I allowed to think of you when I touch myself?” He asked.

You chuckled and exhaled seducingly along the crook of his neck. “As long as you tell me what you were thinking about when you cum.”

He exhaled a breathy laugh. “We’re taking this slow, I see.”

“I can’t go any slower with you.” You looked into his eyes, releasing your arms from around him. “Sweet dreams, tiger.” You said, saluting him and picking up your bag before entering your building.

“Goodnight, nymph.” He replied, shaking his head in disappointment and at the same time smiling at your teasing nature.

You both stayed up all night, thinking about the night you’ll be finally staying up together.

#bangtan sonyeondan #BTS Blog #bts fic #bts drabble #taehyung drabble #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung scenario #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung x reader

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Lonely Hearts Club

Seokmin: Chapter 1 (One More Light)

Characters: Seokmin x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, potential blood mentions, genocide mentions, runaway mentions, emotional manipulation? (If you can call it that? Idk you decide), mental illness (depression implied), sexual mentions, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: This story is gonna be a bit of a heart puller. Sorry. But for this chapter anyways, I recommend listening to One More Light by Linkin Park because it really goes well with this chapter.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

Lonely Hearts Club Master List

Chapter 1: One More Light

The way you moved was devastating. The way you laughed was harmonious. The way you smiled was infectious. The way you smelt was intoxicating. He’s been so giddy ever since you came through their doors. He finally found you.

His brothers had told him to wait and be patient, but who was he kidding, waiting was impossible for someone like him. He always had so much love to give. When he loved, he loved with all his heart. So it’s no surprise that he was already in love with his mate that he’d only known for a few days. He had told you he had imprinted on you the day after you woke up from your injury, three days ago. Your response was less than ideal, you simply let out an “okay” and walked the other way. He couldn’t lie, your reaction stung him a bit, he wanted you to be just as in love with him as he was with you.

You were really cold to him. Colder than you were with anyone else in the house. But he understood that that can happen sometimes and that it could take you some time to come to terms with having a mate. He was just hoping that time would speed up so he could reach his happily ever after sooner.

As you walked downstairs for dinner, you saw him sitting there again. Your eyes automatically went to him when he was in a room, you couldn’t stop it. No matter how hard you tried, your body’s natural reaction was to want to see him. He was already looking at you, before you had even made it fully down the stairs, with stars in his eyes. You couldn’t help but scoff under your breath.

Your stupid instincts once again had fucked you over. That’s what that new feeling you felt on the first day was, you had imprinted on a young wolf in Seungcheol’s pack. But You didn’t want a new mate. You didn’t NEED a new mate. You just wanted to be left alone. You just wanted to be left alone to die. But NOOOOO. They HAD to come and play heros and save you and keep you from seeing the end of a silver bullet. You understood that they were just trying to help, so you weren’t really upset with them, just more so sad that you had to continue with your shitty life.

While you were sitting down at the kitchen table eating, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move like you were some sort of goddess. The feeling had your skin tingling. You hated it. Because, now that you had a mate, you knew you could go into heat. You’ve never had that problem before, you weren’t mature enough back then to experience it. But you knew it could end up VERY bad if you weren’t careful now that you were able to go through it.

Being in the same room with him was getting harder and harder. It felt like the room was getting hotter and hotter. Like you were suffocating in his delicious aroma. You couldn’t keep this up. By tomorrow, you knew you’d want to hump his brains out. And you DEFINITELY didn’t want that to happen.

You couldn’t deal with it much longer, as you finished your last few bites of your dinner, a reeling hot flash hit you when your eyes met and he looked deep into your icy blue orbs. You were sweating and you felt like your every layer of skin was being peeled back to expose all your nerves. The slight breeze in the room was making things that much worse. Fuck. You HAD to get out of there before this shit got more out of hand.

You quickly got up from your chair and washed your plate in their sink. It startled quite a few of the pack members around you and their mates because no one else had done that just yet. The boys could… smell- that something was different about you. They didn’t know what exactly as they had never even been around or heard of a female wolf before, but they still knew SOMETHING was weird with you. They just couldn’t put their finger on it. Even so, they tried to continue their dinner as nonchalantly as possible as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Well SOMEBODY’S in a rush” joked Joshua, who had his mate all but sitting on his lap feeding her portions of her food.

“Yeah (Y/N). You good?” Mingyu asked in a similar manner, but you could see he was actually curious as to why you wanted to make a sudden exit from the table.

“Yeah. I- uh- I’m fine. I just need to head back to my den tonight. I’ve been away too long and I- um- I need to go make sure everything’s alright.” You stuttered while not looking at any of them and with quite a bit of hesitation. You were hoping none of them would question why you were so on edge and why you wanted to leave. But obviously with Seokmin there, your hopes had been smashed to pieces the second he spoke up.

“You’re leaving??? You can’t leave! I mean- I didn’t mean it like that but- I mean, you still aren’t healed properly. You could get hurt again!” The frantic words left his mouth as soon as you had finished your own sentence moments before.

You couldn’t leave him, he just found you. He HAD to make you stay somehow. He couldn’t just let you walk away without knowing whether or not you’d come back to him. His heart was beating out of his chest in panic, what was he gonna do if you left him??

“I’ll be fine. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time now. I appreciate you guys helping me out but-” you tried to brush off their worry, wanting to make a quick get away as soon as possible. But Seokmin stood up from his seat and hurriedly retorted your little speech.

“But nothing! You still have a hard time walking around without holding onto something. There’s no way you’re leaving in this state!” He gestured with his hands as he got closer to you.

God, did he have to smell so fucking good? You had to shake the thought off, you had to control yourself. You had one focus right now and that was to leave before you did irreversible damage.

“Who are you my father? I can leave if I want to!And i WANT to leave! I have other things I have to do and I won’t put them on hold any longer! I can’t!” You punctuated your sentence by throwing your hands in the air.

“Seokmin’s right (Y/N). You still aren’t doing your best. If you’re not careful, you could get yourself killed. It’s probably best you stay here at least for another few days.” Hansol tried as the pack’s resident doctor in an attempt to keep his brother from going crazy at the idea of losing his mate so soon.

They all really liked you, even if you weren’t… the warmest person towards their packmate. They all could see you were just putting on a brave face. They didn’t want you to go run off and get yourself in trouble without them backing you up.

“I can’t! I have important business to attend to this week. I can’t put it on hold just because I’m still not 100% better. I have to go” you say, standing your ground as best you could with Seokmin standing right in front of you with his stupidly warm glowing aura that made you wanna tackle him to the ground with kisses.

You just wanted to grab his beautiful face and let him take you right then and there from the way he was biting his lip while looking at you. The thought made you shiver. But you couldn’t give in to those thoughts. You WOULDN’T give in to those thoughts. You didn’t want a new mate. You didn’t want him, you had to keep reminding yourself. But You NEEDED to get out of there, for both your sakes.

Seokmin was in a panic. He couldn’t lose you. What if you never came back? What if you go hurt? What if you ran away? What if he never saw you again? He couldn’t risk losing you. He couldn’t. He looked to Seungcheol, who was sitting at the table stroking his mate’ thigh, for help.

“Okay how ‘bout this (Y/N), You go finish whatever business it is that you need to finish and a few of us will check up on you in a couple of days to make sure you’re alright? That’s fair right? Besides, you’ll definitely need another healing session or two before you’ll be able to defend yourself fully alone again” Seungcheol suggested.

He knew his brother didn’t want you to leave their house, but he also knew forcing you to stay was definitely not the right thing to do in this situation. He knew trying to leash you down would only make you resent them and more defiant. At least this way, they could still make sure you were alright and you’d get some independence. Everyone would win. Seokmin had a little whine emit from his chest at the thought of not seeing you for a while, causing Cheol to look to his brother’s depressed face. Well… everyone would win except Seokmin that is…

“Fine! If that’s what it’ll take for you guys to let me go, fine. But I NEED to leave and I need to leave like yesterday!” You repeatedly tapped your foot to the ground, almost waiting for some sort of reaction from them.

Hansol got up from his seat, “Okay. How about we make sure you get to your cave safely? That way we can make sure we know you got there okay and we’ll know how to find you later for your check up.”

“Fine. That’s fine, whatever. But I need to go now!” you declared while heading for the door, knowing full well you didn’t bring anything to their home but the clothes on your back.

You never really owned anything anyways. You had to move around and run so much that you never thought it a good idea to own too many material possessions.

“Better get going then.” Seokmin said semi-coldly, not really wanting you to leave, but also realizing that he didn’t get much of a say.

On your way to your den, it was decided that Hansol, Jeonghan, Jun, and Seokmin would accompany you on the journey. They wanted to be sure they had enough people that would know where you were staying so they had multiple people who could find you later. They wanted an Alpha to go with you to make sure the boys stayed in line, mostly Seokmin, so they had Jeonghan go. Jun went because you were more comfortable with him as you were both foreigners and kind of hit it off, making fast and perfect friends. Hansol went because he was the pack’s healer and he would more than likely be one of the ones to check on you later. And of course, Seokmin went because he wanted to spend every possible second he could with you.

It wasn’t that far, an hour or two’s walk in human form at best. But You wanted to just dash there in your wolf form so you could get there. It irritated you that you couldn’t already shift to a more familiar form that you were used to and felt more safe in. Though you knew the boys with you just wanted to protect you, so you made the slow walk to your little home next to the boys.

“Hey (Y/N). Can I ask a question?” Jun spoke out of no where next to you.

“I mean you can ask, doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily get an answer though.” You causally let out, stepping over a big rock in order to continue your way to your den. You didn’t mean it in a mean way, the boys all knew that, it was just your personality. You preferred to keep things short, blunt, and sarcastic, kinda the exact opposite of your mate’s style.

Jun bit his lip and played with his large thumbs before his voice echoed out again, “Well I mean, I could hear you talking in your sleep these last few nights, We all could. It sounded like you were having quite a few nightmares. Does-Does that happen a lot?” He questioned, trying his absolute best not to offend you in the process.

“Eh. Yeah I guess, it’s not that big a deal though. You get used to it after a while.” You answered, not really wanting to elaborate but also knowing he wasn’t asking in a malicious way, more so in an ‘are you good bro?’ type of way.

“Oh okay. Well then can I ask who- who Cyrus is…?” Jun quietly stuttered again while trying hard to not upset you.

As the boys kept their walk going, you stopped for a moment. It didn’t go unnoticed by them so they halted as well. Jun, worried he had pushed you, tried to lighten the mood some more.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). I didn’t want to dig too deep into your personal life or anything. I just-” Jun spoke before you cut him off swiftly.

“No! I mean- it’s alright. I’d want to know if I was you guys too. I just… I- I haven’t heard his name said aloud in a long time ‘s all.” You responded while looking down at your feet as they started up their pace again.

They began following behind you as you continued with your answer to the Chinese wolf’s previous question, “Cyrus is- Cyrus WAS my mate” you croaked, trying to keep the tears back. You were NOT about to have some people you barely knew see you cry. No, that was definitely NOT happening.

“You- You had another mate?” Hansol said without even realizing he had added the word ‘another’ in his question.

It was still a bit of a touchy subject for both you and Seokmin as you hadn’t really accepted or denied him yet. This earned Hansol a nudge from Jeonghan. Seokmin, who had been staying quiet for most of the journey, was listening and processing your statement attentively. His heart rate sped up, you had another mate? It hurt him to think about it. He wanted to be your only one.

“Yeah. I- I did” you muttered, putting the word ‘another’ out of your mind and focusing on the question at hand, “A long time ago. He’s- He’s gone now. When he died… that’s when my nightmares started- that’s WHY my nightmares started.” You added, almost having reached your cave.

“… How did he- How did he die?” Seokmin let his voice out for the first time since you guys had left the house, startling you a bit.

You again hesitated to respond. You weren’t against talking about it. You just weren’t sure you wanted them to know just yet. You weren’t sure if you were ready for Seokmin to know just yet. But you knew you’d have to tell them all eventually, especially if they kept bugging you about it. So you decided to just sit the dirty laundry out and let it fall wherever it was meant to.

“Jun, you’re Chinese right?” You quizzed, slightly confusing them at the sudden question. They assumed you were just trying to change the subject.

“Yeah... I’m from Shenzhen.” He added, still very curious as to where your random ass knowledge came from.

“… You- You know what Lingchi is?” You say continuing to walk on.

As everyone else still kept walking the way to your den, Jun stopped entirely. His heart dropping at the word that you had linked to Seokmin’s earlier question. That’s what happened to him? That’s what happened to your MATE? The others didn’t understand, they didn’t know Chinese as they were all Korean and really had no need to learn a language that wasn’t used a whole lot in Korea. They knew a few words here and there do to having lived with Junhui and Minghao for so long and having had another Chinese pack for friends, but they never needed to know THAT word. At least, not until now.

“… That’s- That’s how he died?” Jun spoke up and all of you turned around at his distant voice. You could see the tears brimming on the brink of his water lines. He was sad for you. He was sad for your lost mate. He was sad at your whole situation and your whole backstory.

You cleared your seemingly very dry throat, “Yeah,” You said in a small voice, trying your best to hide any emotions that hit you like a rock through a window.

It upset you that while you were even speaking on such a serious topic, you were about to start heat and you still felt it creeping up on you. You tried to shake the dirtier thoughts away and just decided to do your best to get through it in one piece. You really wished that Seokmin would’ve stayed back at the pack’s house. He was making everything sooo much harder for you. You wanted to be able to be upset, but how could you when your every instinct at the moment was telling you to jump his bones?

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry… I- I didn’t know… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t have asked if I had known.” Jun shook his head to flick the tears back and brought his hand to your small shoulder in comfort, looking at you with almost pleading eyes.

You gave him a small smile and put you little hand on top of his larger one and gave it a small squeeze, “It’s alright. It was a long time ago.” You whispered out, gently brushing his limb from your body as you started walking again, clearly indicating that you were too emotional to keep talking about the subject anymore. The others just followed your movements wordlessly, not really understanding the gravity of the whole situation like their brother did, but knowing that whatever it was you were talking about couldn’t have been good.

It was a few more minutes until you reached the mountain opening you were searching for. You had walked in silence the rest of the way there, the evidence of your and Jun’s serious topic still lingering in the air. The others had other conversations they wanted to have, but knowing that you spoke of your last mates demise without actually having an idea of what happened to him made them reluctant to speak.

“Okay.” Hansol finally broke the ice, “We’ll be back to check in on you in a couple of days okay? If you need us, don’t hesitate to give us a howl! Someone’s home at all times. We’ll find you. So don’t run out on us got it?” He joked as he lightly pushed your shoulder as a symbol of affection.

You had taken a liking to Hansol almost immediately, he was a very calm and positive person, he felt like your natural brother already. He made you feel like you were such an outcast and tried to make you feel included. So you lightly pushed his shoulder back playfully.

“Okay okay. I’ll be here don’t worry! Just give me like five or six days to get some stuff done. Then you’ll be able to check on me” you stated as you gave him a big bear hug, though you kept it short so you wouldn’t get too much contact that would aggravate your heat any further.

You went on and hugged the other boys too in similar ways, discluding Seokmin as you were worried that, if you touched him, you’d completely lose it. So you simply just gave him a head nod and said your goodbyes verbally. It hurt him that you didn’t give him a hug goodbye too since it would be a while since he saw you next, he didn’t even know why you wanted to go back to your cave or why you refused to be near him recently. So he took the lack of contact a bit more to heart than you had meant for him to, but still, he said nothing. He didn’t want to agitate you or risk you potentially not coming back due to his actions or words.

As the boys left the cave, one sure question was on all three of the boys minds.

“Hey Jun” Seokmin caught his brother’s attention as they walked home and were finally far enough away from your den to where you couldn’t hear them anymore.

“Yeah?” He responded cooly while cruising back down the path home.

“What’s Lingchi?” Seokmin questioned. All three of the Korean boys turned to him as they waited for an answer. Junhui gulped in response.

He really had to explain one of the worst things he could think of to his brothers, one of them being your current mate who would no doubt be seriously disturbed by the sudden declaration of your old mate’s fate. Perfect.

“Lingchi- it… it usually means… Lingering Death. When talking about- well- said death, it means- it means Slow Slicing.” Jun let out as he looked on while shoving his hands in his pockets as he tried to act off his discomfort of the topic at hand.

“Slow Slicing?” Jeonghan questioned, also wanting some sort of explanation or further elaboration on what Jun was talking about.

“Yeah. It- It’s also known as- I think you’d guys call it… Death By A Thousand Cuts.” Jun slowly let his words simmer out, trying his best to not sound affected by the thought of that happening to someone he had known’s mate.

“Tha- THAT’S how he died???” Seokmin panicked, knowing full well how that must have affected you. His heart felt like it had just gained 100 pounds in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah. They usually used some kind of sword… and they kept cutting shallow slices into a person until they bled to death. It’s- Death By A Thousand Cuts- it’s really a terribly slow and horribly painful way to die.” Jun reiterated while kicking a rock close to his feet.

He wasn’t even sure if he should’ve told them to begin with, it wasn’t his mate that met that fate after all, but he also knew that if he were you he wouldn’t have wanted to be the one who explained it. So he took it upon himself hoping you wouldn’t hate him later.

“Fuck.” Jeonghan breathed loudly as he ran his hand through his hair, having finally have reached the house.

“That’s fucking awful” Hansol added.

It was awful. Your mate died in one of the worst ways possible. And, from how bad your nightmares sounded, he figured you must have seen at least some of it. He felt terrible for you. And he was mad at himself for being slightly jealous earlier at the mention of your old mates name now. No wonder you were so cut off from him. You were numb. You didn’t want to go through that again, and he couldn’t blame you. If he saw that happen to you, he’d jump off a cliff and end it all.

Still, he promised himself that night that he’d do everything he could to get you to see that he would stay with you always and that he’d keep you safe forever. He was determined to show you that you’d never have to go through that again. He just needed to figure out how to do that in like five days. No fucking biggie or anything. Little did he know that five days from now, your past mate couldn’t have been further from your mind…

Another Author’s Note: Hi guys! So I just want to put out there that I’m not Chinese, I’m Mexican. I think I used the word right but if I didn’t, PLEASE let me know. I asked one of my friends for help with it, but she only uses conversational Mandarin with her family and isn’t 100% fluent. Everything I’ve looked up says that it’s the right word to use in Mandarin for it and use of the language was kind of essential for this particular chapter as I needed the suspense of having the characters have to ask someone later what it meant. Again PLEASE let me know if it’s wrong or if there’s a better word for it! Hope you guys liked this chapter because the next one will be super fun😉

(Updated 9/8)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #seokmin imagines #svt seokmin #dokyeom #svt dk

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liron-ao3 · 3 years

Text

"Are you okay?" Magnus asks as he brushes the warm, wet cloth over Alec's stomach.

"Um, sure. I'm fine."

Magnus knits his brow together. That wasn't exactly the reaction he had expected from his boyfriend who just lost his virginity to him.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Alec chuckles nervously. "You're the one with the 17.000 exes. I doubt that you do sex wrong."

Magnus grabs Alec's chin, tenderly pushing until his boyfriend meets his eyes. "Everyone likes different things. So if you didn't like something we or I did, you need to tell me."

"It's nothing."

Magnus breathes out a sigh. Alec is such a bad liar.

The warlock plays back the time since Alec stood in his hallway, kissing him with clear intent. Magnus had taken the lead tonight, checked in frequently. Alec had reacted beautifully to his ministrations, his whole body so responsive, and the sounds he had made—better than many a porn star.

Magnus' mind gets stuck at that thought. Alec had been giggling in the beginning, giddy with anticipation. The mood had been back after their short cat eyes interruption. Then, when Magnus had started to undress him further and had pressed kisses to his skin, Alec had become quiet. But Magnus had checked in again and met Alec's smiling face.

After that, it was pretty clear that Alec was enjoying himself. Or wasn't he?

Dread spreads in Magnus' chest. This had been the most meaningful sex for him in a very long time and—Fuck!

Magnus' heart is racing, threatening to burst into a thousand pieces. "Alec, didn't you enjoy it?"

Alec looks away again, a blush spreading on his cheeks. His lips, slightly swollen from being kissed in passion, part and close several times before he gives up trying to form words.

"Why didn't you say something?" Magnus' words are soft, not judging. But they only thinly veil the turmoil churning through his chest.

"I—I thought it would come. With time." Alec bites his lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin it for you."

"You should never do anything that doesn't feel right, Alec. I'm so sorry that I didn't realise. I'm so sorry. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You don't look like nothing, Alec."

Alec licks his lip and sits up against the headboard. He pulls one of the crumpled sheets over his lap. He doesn't know what's wrong with him.

This was the next logical step. He loves Magnus even if he hasn't said it out loud yet. He loves kissing and cuddling his boyfriend. For him, Magnus is the most beautiful man alive. He wanted this. That's how it goes, right?

But when they got naked, something shifted. His body reacted to every touch. His cock filled, his hips twitched of their own accord, goosebumps ran over his skin wherever Magnus touched him. But when he should have felt arousal he felt—nothing.

He had never been one to masturbate much. The porn he had watched was arousing, though. Shouldn't he have felt at least the same when Magnus touched him? The man made him come for heaven's sake, with talented fingers and a very skilled mouth. What is wrong with him!?

"It was just different than what I expected. That's all."

Magnus' frown is growing deeper.

"Can we just cuddle and go to sleep? It's been a long day," Alec pleads.

Magnus opens his mouth to protest, but he closes it again. If he knows something about Alec, then, that he sometimes needs time to think and afterwards, talking is way easier.

They shuffle around a little with Magnus' head ending up tucked under Alec's chin. Both lie awake for a long while, pondering what this might mean for their relationship.

***

"What scares you?"

Magnus feels the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. How can Alec ask him that? Doesn't he know?

He has to look up at the ceiling when he rips his chest wide open, handing his heart to Alec on a silver platter.

Magnus looks at their entwined hands on his stomach. "What happened last night, Alec? Where did I go wrong?"

Alec's hand stiffens a little in his hold. "You did nothing wrong."

"But you didn't enjoy it, right?"

Alec's breath gets caught in his throat. The sound makes Magnus' heart clench painfully.

"It wasn't bad."

Magnus bites the inside of his lower lip. "But it wasn't good either?"

"It was—weird. Like an out-of-body experience. My body liked what you did, but it felt—" Alec takes his time to find the right word. "Neutral."

Magnus lets out the breath that got stuck in his airways. At least he did nothing Alec disliked. Thank Lucifer for little mercies.

"Okay. That can happen. Not everyone enjoys sex. That's absolutely fine." Magnus tries to keep his emotions out of his voice. Alec needs him now. His own turmoil can be dealt with later.

Alec's eyes flicker through the room. "How is that fine? Everybody wants sex."

Magnus rolls on his side. "That's not true. Some do experience sexual desire and attraction, some don't, and others only under certain circumstances."

"But I wanted it. I wanted you. I want you." Alec's voice sounds desperate, fear lacing the words.

Magnus studies Alec's features, the frown creasing his beautiful face, the way he bites the inside of his cheek.

"When you pictured us having sex—what did you imagine?"

Alec blushes a deep red. "I–I imagined us kissing. You on top, your weight on me. I imagined how you'd sound, how you'd look when you come."

Magnus hums. "And how did I come? What were we doing?"

Alec's eyes blink several times. "I jerked you off."

"Okay. And what did I do with you?"

Alec looks at him, thinking hard, but he comes back blank. "Nothing."

"Did you come in your fantasy?"

Alec shakes his head.

Magnus licks his lips. "What arouses you?" Alec answers with a frown. "I mean, what do you think of when you masturbate?"

"I don't usually do." The frown grows deeper.

"Is that a religious thing?"

Alec chuckles. "No. I just don't feel like it most of the time."

Magnus smiles at him. "Then you're probably asexual, Alexander."

"I'm gay," he protests.

Magnus squeezes his hand. "One thing doesn't erase the other, darling. You can be a homoromantic man and never want to touch a dick in your lifetime."

Alec bites his lip. "I want to touch yours."

Magnus chuckles. "You can be ace and want to touch your boyfriend's cock."

Alec screws his face. "That doesn't sound right."

"Okay. Close your eyes, Alexander."

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

Alec gives him a are you kidding me look and closes his eyes.

"Okay. Imagine us in bed, both fully dressed. We're kissing. I'm lying on top of you. Is that okay?"

Alec nods.

"What if I ground down, rubbed my erection against your body? Would that be okay, too?"

"I guess. I liked feeling that you wanted me."

Magnus grins. "I wanted you very much."

A proud smile tugs on Alec's lips. Magnus smirks at his beautiful boyfriend.

"Okay. Now imagine us naked in the same position."

Alec's brow knits together. "I like the touch of your skin, your caresses. But your cock is a bit too much as it slides against me." Alec opens his eyes, cautiously scanning Magnus' face.

"That's alright, Alexander. We just try to find out where your boundaries are. Do you want to continue?"

Alec nods.

"Alright then. What about what I did last night. Did you like my mouth on you?"

Alec's eyes flutter shut, his cheeks burning crimson now. "You're very skilled."

"Why, thank you. But that isn't an answer, is it?"

Alec shakes his head. "I prefer your lips on my mouth." He winces as he says it.

"I suppose my fingers weren't welcome either?"

Alec sighs. "Look, I know this is weird. I'm sure I'll get used to it."

Magnus breathes out a sigh and sits up. "I don't want to do things for you to get used to. If you're not enjoying it, it's useless. I'm doing them for you. Not for me."

"Magnus."

"Alec. If you don't enjoy sex, then this is the end of the discussion."

Alec scrambles up, eyes wide in fear, tears already filling the brim. "No, please, I can learn to enjoy it. Please. I want you."

"Shh," Magnus soothes him. "I'm not breaking up with you. See, that's what I meant when I said I was worried about rushing it. Sex changes things. But relationships are so much more than sex. I want you, in any way, I can have you."

"But you—"

"—screwed around in the past? Yes. But what we have, Alexander, is so much more. The last days were the best of my life. I'd be content if we just stayed that way for eternity. You make me really happy. And I have two healthy hands and even magic if I should need release."

Alec blows out a breath. "That won't be necessary. I mean—I want to." He sighs.

"What do you want?"

"I want to make you feel good—sexually." Alec couldn't explain it if he tried to. But pleasuring Magnus was strangely satisfying, to know that he touched him right, that he made him lose control. That even after so many lovers, his name fell from Magnus' lips when he came all over his stomach.

"You don't have to."

Alec cups Magnus' cheek and runs his thumb over the smooth skin. "You looked so beautiful when you came."

Guilt washes over Magnus' skin. He had been so lost in his own pleasure. He hadn't seen Alec come. Did he even come? He had assumed because his dick had been soft when he came out on the other side of his climax.

"I'm so sorry, Alexander."

Alec rolls his eyes. "I liked it."

"You did?"

"Yes. I want to see you like this again. Wanna make you come."

Magnus' cock twitches at the prospect. "If you really want to, I'm sure we can make this work. But I mean it. We'll never have to do any of that ever again."

Alec cocks an eyebrow. "And you could live with that?"

"Oh, Alexander." He kisses him softly and slips on top of him, mindful to keep the duvet between them. "I have everything I need."

Alec runs his fingers through Magnus' hair. "I'm sorry that I'm broken. You clearly are an incredible lover."

"You're not broken, darling. You're just you. And I'm happy to have you."

#malec fandom #malec fanfic #malec fanfiction #malec fic #ace #asexual #asexuality

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

JJ Abrams Superman Movie officially announced, with Ta-Nahisi Coates writing

Anonymous said: Just a few days after you said you were happy with DC taking a break from Superman movies and just focusing on him being on tv again, they go and announce a new Superman movie. How do you feel? Coates is an exciting choice, I think

Caught me red-handed! But to be fair a couple times I said that I left a caveat of ‘barring extraordinary circumstances’, which I’d say this qualifies as.

There’s only so much to go off of at this point, but even these tidbits open up a lot to think about.

* As out of left field as Coates feels at first blush - he’s a Marvel man! - it’s not entirely shocking that he’d be on WB’s shortlist to be their ‘how to fix Superman’ guy: he got a MacArthur Genius Grant the same year as his #1 bestselling book about what the American Way actually means, after which he got into superhero writing with a run that ended up having elements incorporated into a cultural moment in Black Panther, and then Between The World And Me was cited as the inspiration for the Watchmen show that substantially drew on Superman iconography and won 11 Emmys. People are already talking about him admittedly not being a DC or Superman guy (though in that same interview he notes his love for the DCAU, specifically including STAS), but if he’s here he’s got something to say and, y’know, probably read a decent amount of Superman stuff either since then/prior to this or to get ready for the gig, so can’t say I’m worried.

* Related note: I’m seeing folks concerned about how much control he’ll really have over the project, which is fair. But that it’s his involvement that’s being touted over JJ Abrams’ (the guy who, like him or not, rebirthed Star Wars as a going concern to the tune of over $2 billion), and that they’re formally announcing and hyping it up as TA-NEHISI COATES’ SUPERMAN MOVIE™, COMING 202X before even having a director or lead actor attached, says to me that whatever his vision is it’s one WB’s going all-in on for the time being.

* I’ve seen plenty of discussion already about the appropriateness of this potentially starring a black Superman given both the dynamics/thematics of Superman as a character, and more significantly the implications of Coates maybe only being brought onboard to do ‘the black version’. That is a conversation I have precisely zero qualifications to wade in on with my own takes, but given that he is a dude with enough options that he could probably even turn down an opportunity on this scale, and the aforementioned weight being given to his role in this, I think it’s safe to say whatever we’re going to get is something he’s onboard with.

* Also seen concerns re: his pedigree as a fiction writer - another one I’m not that qualified to weigh in on, I’ve only read the first year or so of his Black Panther and Captain America runs (though I got the rest of his BP on Comixology while it was free, gotta check it out sometime), which were solid if a bit more workmanlike than you’d hope, along with the (other category altogether) Between The World And Me some time ago, which was...considerably more than solid. I know however his fiction novel debut in The Water Dancer was well-received, his Marvel work rather than staying ‘grounded’ hasn’t shied away from the sort of outré high concepts you’d want to see in a Superman movie, and the main criticism of his runs of ‘they’re too slow’ wouldn’t likely have the space to apply in a 2-3 hour Hollywood blockbuster, so again, not too concerned.

* Perhaps time will make me eat my words, but hot take: there is a basically 0% chance this is about Calvin Ellis or Val-Zod. Yes, yes, the DC movies are reportedly embracing the multiverse an excuse to do standalone stuff, but the two examples of that thus far in Joker and The Batman are still broadly rooted in the conventional trappings of those characters even if they’re separated from the ‘main universe’. Maybe someday the options might go further afield, but right now, when Superman hasn’t had an unambiguous silver screen hit in over 40 years? They’re not going to pour a quarter-billion dollars into a movie with the premise of “last son of the doomed planet Krypton, imbued beneath Earth’s yellow sun with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men and raised with the noblest ideals of truth and justice, Some Other Guy Most Of You Don’t Know protects the world...as Superman!” Not even getting into Val-Zod being just one member of an ensemble cast from a largely overlooked book and having the baggage of being Zod’s kid, and the EVERYTHING of making a four-quadrant tentpole film about Super-Obama (when you haven’t even been able to make your regular Super work) - this is either going to be Clark, or if they do make Superman black or brown but still want some distance it’ll be a Jon movie so it’s still got the direct connection to the original and the ‘son of Superman’ pitch in its corner too.

* Abrams is an interesting partner. He’s Hollywood’s big nostalgia guy, and that’s...probably not what Coates is going to be going for here. I assume he’s basically there to keep things familiar enough for WB’s tastes, which itself raises questions about the nature of Coates’ pitch and how it was internally received even if they’re clearly very publicly committed to it.

* Michael B. Jordan probably won’t really be the guy - he apparently talked about it, reasonably concluded he didn’t want to face that inevitable scale of backlash after what he already went through just playing the Human Torch, and the tradition is to cast an unknown in the part - but I guess never say never. Heck, while I sure wouldn’t bet on it I don’t think Ryan Coogler ending up involved is out of the question either; Coates’ previous screenwriting experience was working on a project with Coogler and Jordan that evidently didn’t come to fruition (Wrong Answer, a drama about a 2006 Atlanta public school cheating scandal), and they seem to have maintained a relationship as they had a public discussion regarding The Water Dancer in 2019.

* Ok I know making fun of Snyder people is passé at this point and usually more “NO SUPERMAN MOVIES MAY BE PERMITTED UNTIL THE CIVILIZATION-REDEFINING FIVE-FILM SAGA IS COMPLETE” howling into the void is barely worth notice, and “this is solely WB retaliating against us for bending them to our will!” in response to a Superman reboot would normally be just an amusing side-note too. But trying to get #HenryCavillSuperman/#HenryCavillIsOurSuperman trending in response to the possibility of a black Superman...I mean obviously so fucking many of them are fully aware they’re just not saying the quiet part loud, but what’re the percentages here?

So that’s what I’ve got so far. How do I feel about it all? It’s odd; given that there are basically no actual details beyond a name attached I’d never thought about in this context, and that this came with no forewarning just as the prospect of Superman in movies for the next long while seemed as dead as it ever had been, it’s so ill-defined and seems so unreal that I don’t feel much of anything about it yet? Plus I’m no longer driven on a day-by-day basis by a savage, all-consuming desire to slake a thirst for quality Superman stuff long left unquenched the way I was even a couple years ago, which likely also plays its part. But objectively? This is a guy formally, nationally recognized for being smart who’s also a journalist and comics fan being given Superman, with what sure feels like a lot of leeway and presumably a blank slate, which is basically the abstract concept of a perfect pick. So yes: I formally rescind my “please no Superman movies in the 2020s” plea.

#Superman #Ta Nehisi Coates #JJ Abrams #Calvin Ellis #Val Zod #Jon Kent #Michael B. Jordan #Ryan Coogler #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Opinion

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valentinax · 3 years

Text

[ VALENTINA ALVAREZ. 30. CIS WOMAN. SHE / HER ] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 12 YEARS ] and are originally from [ PASADENA, CA ]. They are a [ BARTENDER AT DUNGEON & YOGA INSTRUCTOR AT 24/7 FITNESS ] and in their downtime love [ PLAYING VIDEO GAMES ] and [ UPCYCLING CLOTHING ]. They look a lot like [ EMERAUDE TOUBIA ] and live [ IN OASIS APTS ].

content warnings: mentions of alcohol and underage drinking, pregnancy and labor, allusions to nsfw content.

timeline.

december 10, 1990 -- valentina elena maroun is born. half-sister to four older brothers, her biological father misses her birth and is almost entirely absent throughout valentina’s youth.

1990 to 2008 -- valentina spends her formative years in pasadena, ca with her family. during this period, her mother gets back with her previously separated husband ( valentina’s brothers’ father ) for good. valentina considers this man to be her real dad, and at the age of 9 valentina’s surname is changed to his: alvarez, matching the rest of their family. upon her high school graduation at 17 years old, she prepares to move to silver lake with two of her friends: they’re both to attend usc, while valentina attends ucla on a partial athletic scholarship for softball.

2008 to 2010 -- spends her first two years of college doing exactly what most expect: going out with friends, experimenting, drinking whatever she can get her hands on, and so on and so forth. she still takes her studies and softball seriously, and works part-time at paco’s tacos in silver lake during this time.

2010 to 2011 -- falls pregnant at 19 and gives birth to her daughter, rosa torres, shortly after turning 20. has taken the fall and spring semesters of this school year off to prepare for her daughter’s birth, as well as to be home during rosa’s infancy. has a strenuous, lengthy and difficult labor. it’s under pressure from her parents that valentina pursues a romantic relationship with rosa’s father, lucas torres, for rosa’s sake. by 2012 however, they come to agree a platonic relationship coparenting works best for everyone involved.

2011 to 2014 -- moves in with her brother in santa monica, bringing rosa along with her, to return to school and cut her commute in half. has lost her athletic scholarship, yet earns a partial academic one. valentina relies heavily on family to help out with rosa during this period and has reached out to her biological father for financial aid. their relationship is strained, but on the mend. upon her graduation, valentina gets a job as a server at maria sol on the santa monica pier.

2015 to 2016 -- though valentina doesn’t want to, she relents to moving back home so rosa can be closer to her father. valentina reluctantly moves back in with her parents and enters a job tending bar at dungeon.

2016 to 2018 -- unable to stand living at home, valentina convinces another one of her brothers to let her move in with him in silver lake. gets a second job as a yoga instructor at 24/7 fitness. she cuts back her hours at the club when in 2018, she manages to land yet another job: as a project-based writer for buzzfeed reviewing and researching sex toys. this quickly leads to her brother encouraging ( read: telling ) her to move out when he’s put in the uncomfortable position of, to put it as cleanly as possible, hearing her working.

2018 to 2021 -- valentina finally moves out into a three bedroom apartment at the oasis with long-time friend, helena, for a roommate. still works part-time at dungeon with hopes to quit soon, and continues to teach yoga and contribute to buzzfeed.

personality traits.

alluring, assertive, vehement -- valentina is a very passionate person and this translates into her sensuality. she’s never really been afraid to go after the things she wants, whether it’s in her personal or professional life. in personal relationships, valentina isn’t ashamed to make the first move and can be quite flirty at times. unfortunately, valentina has yet to be in a relationship that’s lasted longer than a year or two. while she does want to settle down, she can be fickle and unsure of what ( or who ) she wants.

candid, effervescent, resilient -- in general, valentina is a person who values honesty and respects people who tell the truth when it’s most difficult. her keen attitude on brutal honesty doesn’t, however, get in the way of her easygoing nature: it’s not hard to get along with her and she’s incredibly outspoken and outgoing. of course, this may rub people the wrong way at times.

egocentric, erratic, frivolous -- it may or may not be obvious that valentina has a penchant for changing her mind. she does her best to think of others first, especially so when it comes to her daughter, but she’s entirely susceptible to her own whims. she’s impulsive and seems to lack purpose. and, ultimately, it scares her to consider that she’s never known what she wants to do with her life: so she doesn’t stop to think.

recalcitrant, resentful, rigid -- valentina is a fan of grudges. she tends to hers like pets. she’s often stubborn and unwavering and entirely unwilling to admit when she’s in the wrong. fully the type to never forgive, never forget, but just move on. and perhaps it comes from being the youngest, but she’s also known for being pouty and upset when things don’t go her way.

miscellaneous headcanons.

for about 2 years beginning when she was 25, valentina was apart of a roller derby team in los angeles. given that the pronunciation of her nickname valé sounds so close to valley, she quickly adopted valley hurl as her derby name. she eventually quit due to no longer having the time to attend practices.

she still roller skates to this day and, a year ago, blew up on tiktok ( along with her roommate, the one who initially put her on to skating ) when she posted a video of herself skating and dancing down the street. she’s since deleted previous videos and curated her entire tiktok feed to focus solely on her roller skating.

her social media totals: 1.8m tiktok followers, 178k instagram followers, 2k twitter followers. most of these were gained within the past year and she’s certainly not famous by any means, though she has been able to make money off sponsored ads on her instagram.

she’s very into fitness! she played soccer growing up and still loves a good game of softball, she loves running, taking various fitness classes, etc. and on the mention of sports, she also loves going to dodger games and watching sunday night football.

has considered streaming on twitch but ultimately decided she doesn’t have the time to commit to that sort of endeavor. also has considered starting a podcast. sort of a jack of all trades, master of none.

case in point: got into upcycling clothes a few years ago. as a result, got into sewing and began to go thrifting more frequently. briefly sold stuff on depop before quitting that endeavor a month or so into it -- now she mainly upcycles pieces for herself and her friends, as gifts for people, etc.

has a few tattoos ( tbd ) that are easy to cover up and generally only visible when she’s wearing certain clothing. her mother and grandparents were disappointed when they found out but are okay with them now.

is actually a pretty damn good singer! her entire family is. at family parties, you’ll often catch them getting into karaoke or clearing out room somewhere for a dance floor. it’s not unusual for them to egg you on to join in.

on that note, a big part of valentina’s enjoyment comes from this type of fun. even since having a child she’s never necessarily cut back on going out -- whether it’s to nightclubs, dive bars, karaoke nights, concerts, anything -- and has made some technically irresponsible choices. still makes them to this day. she’s not perfect by any means. she’s learned to be more conscientious over the past decade, however.

ultimately, valentina struggles with motherhood: she does the best she can and although her parents are great people, she wants to make different choices than them. there’s a lot to be said about how she dealt with parenthood at first and how she still struggles with it now, but the short version literally is this: she’s trying.

is afraid of the dark... like very. checks under the bed and in the closet at night to this day. likely stems from the various pranks her brothers played on her as a kid.

currently does not eat noodles. after a conversation with her daughter about how noodles look like worms, valentina agreed to abstain from eating them out of solidarity. is hoping her daughter will get over this aversion soon because valentina loves noodles.

#slintro #one ✯ character study.#i know this is long so like sincere thanks if u read lmaooo.

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elffees · 2 years

Note

2, 7, 11, 19, 28 👀

aaaahhh thank you for the ask!!

2 - favorite character (excluding sean & daniel)?

hhhhhhhhh so many characters are just so good. i wanna say Chris because i love him, but i also feel like he has an advantage since he had an entire game dedicated to just himself. so aside from Chris, i’d say my favorite character might be Penny

7 - favorite quote?

in episode 3 when Sean optionally says: “I'm sorry you have to go through all this crap. It's not fair. I want to make it up to you, make sure you're safe forever” to Daniel after he shares a bad memory. its so innocent and sad it breaks my heart

11 - never call lyla or dont save chris?

oh gosh sorry Chris but say hello to the bumper for me!

both are terrible but i just cant let Lyla be institutionalized. it just feels too awful :(

(not saving Chris must cause so much confusion for him tho, bc then he doesnt understand why "his" power didnt work when he needed it most. why after all this time he still is nowhere near ready to defeat mantroid oh MAN)

19 - what did you think of jacob?

i have a lot of thoughts on him. from what i’ve seen, Jacob is often characterized by the fandom as an uwu 👉👈 shy anime girl, which i dont fault since his personality is really like that lol. but while he is endearingly sheepish, i think what makes Jacob most interesting to me is his role in Daniel’s relationship with Lisbeth.

Jacob is very traumatized by Lisbeth’s cult and smthg that LIS2 interestingly explores is how hurt individuals can sometimes (unintentionally) inflict that same hurt on others, especially in the case of indoctrination. Jacob didnt mean for Daniel to be brainwashed. he genuinely had good intentions. but the fact of the matter is, Jacob was the one that handed Daniel to Lisbeth on a silver platter and then continued to help her feast.

its bc of his own trauma. manipulators like Lisbeth have a way of making their victims believe they are their only safety, their only refuge, their only place of salvation. after the shitstorm that was the heist, Jacob took Daniel under his wing (which thank GOD omg. like the dude was under no obligation to do that at all. hes goated just for that act alone) and he had no clue what to do with this 9 year old super-powered on-the-run little kid who had just left what looked like a crime scene with several unresponsive bodies and even a possible corpse. understandably, he had NO idea where to go, who to trust, how to care for a child, etc.

Jacob taking Daniel to Lisbeth was inevitable. the weight of his unpreparedness plus his own brainwashed dependency.... there was no other place he wouldve taken Daniel to, which is what makes it so tragic. but what dials the “hmm intriguing!!!” dial up to eleven is that i believe one of the most eye-opening factors that got Jacob to fully understand Lisbeth’s wrongness, was him watching Daniel’s abuse first hand (i think there’s 2 other reasons for Jacob’s realization, but i’ll go over that in a separate post). seeing Daniel, especially an atheist!Daniel, be manipulated before his very eyes had to be an experience to say the least. through Daniel, Jacob witnessed Lisbeth’s manipulations from the ground up and developed a clearer sense as to what she was doing, how she was doing it, and who she really was as a person. and what makes me lean even closer as i observe Jacob under a microscope like a specimen, is that Jacob still did not help Daniel afterwards.

it was again bc of the abuse Lisbeth (and his enabling family) had already inflicted on him that made him psychologically incapable of directly challenging Lisbeth and coming to Daniel’s rescue even after realizing how messed up things were. Jacob was so stuck in his fear that the only thing he felt he could do was send out an uncertain distress signal and wait with his hands folded as Daniel was continuously abused in front of him, his hope-and-have-patience tactic most beneficial to no one but Lisbeth. Jacob was both a victim and an enabler, which is one of the most damning combinations to ever exist. DONTNOD writing him that way was captivating.

28 - did your view on smthg change after a replay?

yes my entire view on the choices! specifically the unconventional ones

when i first played LIS2 it was just after i had finished playing A Game I Shall Not Name™ and spent time in Said Game’s fanbase. looking back i truly think it is the worst choice-based game i have ever played. not bc of the lack of choices, oh no, choices were in abundance, but bc of how infantilizing and arrogant it was as a piece of media. LIS2 showed me what a choice-based game truly should be, where your choices result in balanced in-universe consequences. The Game I Shall Not Name™ instead had the game and narrative basically tell you to go fuck yourself if you made a choice it didnt like. and it did this. several. times. and it was especially hurtful bc of the sensitive material The Game’s™ story was about that i personally could relate to. there was even a specific moment of the game’s “fuck you” disciplinary tactic ill never forget bc it felt like the devs were trying to take a very pointed shit on certain types of people.

so when i first played LIS2, i still had remnants of that experience and thought choosing unconventional choices would have the game smack me or smthg lmao. not that i stuck to completely “angelic” choices, but i did for the most part. so you can probably guess my first ending was Redemption (which i do like. it was written very well)

and then i replayed with the goal to get Blood Brothers and started choosing the more controversial choices and??? the fact the game doesnt demean you????? it genuinely treats most of your choices as inherently neutral and unbiased?? the consequences you face are REASONABLE and weren’t spiteful?!??! oh my god i lost my mind. it was amazing.

#asks #lis2 #i talk a lot i gotta work on that lol #ask game

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

An Art of Balance #13

A/N: Nothing like a (not so) little Christmas chapter at the beginning of spring. As always, KC belongs to my beautiful friend @kc-needs-coffee

Word Count: ~ 4.000

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 13: Topaz & Jasmine

Lizzie wasn’t sure if she had ever been as happy to pack up her bags and board the Hogwarts Express as this year around. Running from her problems wasn’t going to solve them, but taking a break from them for the holidays was a welcome change.

Slumped into one of the plush seats of the Hogwarts Express Lizzie leaned her head against the cold window frame, idly drawing tiny swirls on the fogged glass. She listened to Tonks and Tulip loudly discussing the possible damage they could wreak with a Christmas cracker while Penny, Skye and Rowan played a game of Exploding Snap. Murphy had ditched them to sit with someone else this time.

The warm air streaming from the fully turned-on heaters made her eyelids grow heavy and she fought the urge to fall asleep. Snoozing around Tonks and Tulip was never a particularly good idea.

When the train finally pulled into Kings Cross Station, the emotional mess Lizzie had left behind at the castle already seemed far, far away.

As she saw her mother waving at the incoming train amongst the mass of other parents picking up their kids, a big smile stole onto her face. It widened as she noticed the tall young men standing next to her. Jacob and Duncan hadn’t been supposed to arrive before the day after tomorrow. Lizzie literally jumped off the train and into her brother’s outstretched arms, her woes all but forgotten. She was looking forward to catching up with them over a cup of her father’s famous hot chocolate in front of the fireplace; she had earned herself a few days of peace.

Apparently, the snow had followed them all the way from the Scottish Highlands down to England. When Lizzie opened her curtains on the morning of Christmas Day, she squealed in excitement like a little girl upon seeing their garden and everything else in sight covered in a layer of powdery snow.

They were no stranger to snow, of course; they got plenty of it at Hogwarts every winter. But having a white Christmas at home wasn’t something they got to experience every year.

Lizzie opened her window and scooped a handful of snow off the windowsill. She formed a ball from it and aimed carefully. With the deadly precision she had acquired over the years of being a Chaser, she threw her snowball against Duncan’s head, who had just stepped out of their front door to observe the winter wonderland as well. She quickly ducked with a shriek as her brother’s boyfriend shot a snowball of his own back at her. It sailed into her room through the open window, hitting Mouse, who was snoozing on Lizzie’s bed, square in the face.

The huge grey cat startled awake and shook herself, glaring at Lizzie accusingly. She hurried to shut her window and offered the grumpy pet a treat as compensation.

“Sorry, darling,” she cooed and scratched the cat’s chin. “Merry Christmas to you.”

Mouse blinked at her slowly before turning a few times and snuggling back into the warm blanket.

Lizzie returned to her room from the extensive breakfast with her family, arms laden with gifts of all kind, and carefully placed them on the bed around her cat. Mouse lazily raised her head, eyeing up a ribbon still attached to one of the boxes. Lizzie let her chew on it and sat down on her carpet, pulling the huge bag with gifts she had exchanged with her friends on the train towards her.

Ever since Tonks had gifted all of her friends little dancing Christmas trees shouting festive obscenities a few years back, Lizzie resorted to opening her presents in private.

Half an hour and a mountain of wrapping paper later, Lizzie was admiring the wonderful gifts her friends had picked out for her. Like every year, Skye had equipped her with a full set of the newest Wigtown Wanderers merchandise, including a jersey, scarf and sweater. She just wasn’t giving up on converting her to what she deemed the only acceptable choice of Quidditch team.

Penny had given her a beautiful new quill and a notebook bound in an intricately patterned leather to write down her thoughts. Godric knew, that was something that would come in handy.

Tonks’s present – a black-and-yellow mug – had looked perfectly inconspicuous at first, but luckily the little prankster had forgotten to remove the ‘Zonko’s Joke Shop’ label stuck to the bottom of it. Apparently, it was meant to spit its boiling contents into its owner’s face at random intervals. Lizzie placed it gingerly back into its box, shoving it under the bed with her foot.

Rowan’s present was arguably the most thoughtful of them all. She had chosen a beautiful picture of Lizzie and herself goofing around. It had been taken at the end of last year down at the Black Lake. She had put it into a simple silver frame; turning it around, Lizzie could read the small dedication written in Rowan’s neat hand on the back of it.

“For my best friend.”

Lizzie swallowed the lump building inside her throat and placed the picture carefully on her desk, next to the one of her Quidditch team. She hesitated, eyes lingering on Orion’s beaming face as he had one arm around Skye’s shoulder and the other around hers. She resolutely placed her hand on the frame and upended it, front facing down as if she could shut out her thoughts that way.

‘No’, she chided herself inwardly, ‘not now, not ever.’

She joined Mouse on the bed, who was enjoying herself immensely inside the pile of crinkling paper, sipping her tea and watching the small dragon miniature Charlie had gotten for her flap around the room; from what she remembered of his lectures, it seemed to be a Hebridean Black.

A gentle tapping on her window distracted her from the tiny model circling her lamp. A grey owl sat perched on the windowsill and ruffled its feathers to free them from the snow. Lizzie got up and let the grumpy looking bird hop in. It carried a small package, neatly clad in minimalist brown wrapping paper. A note and a twig of small white flowers were secured to it. Lizzie stared at it for a moment in confusion before she remembered. It had to be from her Secret Santa.

She procured a handful of food for the bird that was staring warily at her cat. Gulping it down, it hopped back to her open window and took to the air on its way back home.

Lizzie turned the present around in her hands and removed the branch. She recognised the distinct fragrance of the flowers immediately; it was jasmine, one of her favourite flowers. It usually bloomed in summer; the bush this was cut off from must have been standing in a greenhouse somewhere. She thought she had seen one back at the castle.

Her curiosity sparked, she removed the wrapping paper, revealing a small box clad in green velvet. Lizzies eyes widened in surprise as she opened it, revealing a beautiful pendant lying on its dark cushion. It was a sheer yellow stone, set in a golden, unregular circle. Her mouth went dry as she carefully removed the necklace from the box, running the delicate gold chain through her fingers.

That was certainly not what was supposed to be a Secret Santa gift.

Perhaps the note that had come with it would give her a clue as to who had decided to be so generous to her. She opened the envelope and took out the card; there was only a few words written on it:

“Unfogging The Future: Page 394. Merry Christmas and Happy belated Birthday, Chaser.”

Lizzie furrowed her brow and turned her head searching the room for her trunk. Thankfully she had taken her copy of the textbook with her instead of leaving it at the castle. She quickly flicked through the pages until she found the one required. Her confusion turned first into wonder and then into the softest smile.

“The Yellow Topaz is a birthstone for those who took birth in the month of November. It was believed by the Egyptians that it contained the rays of the sun. It is meant to provide its bearer with inner peace, bringing calmness to the mind and soul. Eradicating evil, it helps those destined to bear it to overcome regrets of the past and increase the power of focus and concentration.”

She closed the book again and picked up the necklace. She held it against the light, marvelling at the unusual colour before stepping in front of the mirror and putting it on; the pendant rested just below her throat.

Lizzie didn’t have to think twice whom she had to thank for this. Her hand went to her throat, touching the smooth surface of the stone. She was unable to contain the smile on her face. Her cheeks were already hurting and she covered her mouth with her hand.

She thought about what the book had said. This stone was supposed to help her let go of things she regretted. Apparently, this was Orion’s way of cleaning the slate and letting go of the unspoken things that had hung between them.

Lizzie wasn’t sure if she was happy or troubled about this, but she felt giddy, suddenly buzzing with energy and the urgent desire to let it out. She grabbed her clothes and almost skipped out the door with a bounce in her step.

Time to show Duncan how to properly throw a snowball.

New Year’s Eve had come and gone as the Christmas break slowly drew to an end. It was almost time to board the train that would take them back to Hogwarts once again. Shutting out all and everything for a few precious days filled only with the love and warmth of her family had been like a dream, but now Lizzie felt reality silently creeping up on her again, firmly knocking on the door to remind her it was still there.

The sensation hit her every time she walked past a mirror and saw the yellow stone resting against her neck. She had rarely taken the necklace off since Christmas Day; although she didn’t really believe in the concept of birthstones, the feeling of the cool stone against her skin had something weirdly reassuring about it. She had quickly developed a habit of toying with the pendant, moving it back and forth on its chain.

It was the last day at home before they were set for their journey back when Lizzie and Penny finally managed to meet up for a trip into town. Both girls being half-bloods, they knew their ways around the Muggle world. They spent their day roaming around the shops and enjoying their last free moments before classes, homework and the general daily madness that was Hogwarts were to rope them in again.

They were still laughing when they entered a small café off to the side of a busy street, stowing their bags away under the table in front of the French doors leading to a small patio at the back of the room.

The small seating area was full but not crowded; as soon as the door closed behind them, the bustling of the town was shut out, the atmosphere peaceful above the quiet conversations of the other guests.

They were chatting about how they had spent the holidays, sipping on their tea and nibbling some biscuits.

“Seems like you and your sister were spoilt rotten by your parents,” Lizzie laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of somehow being showered with presents like that.”

Penny chuckled. “Look who’s talking. That new necklace you’re wearing is stunning; was it a gift from your parents?”

Her necklace must have slipped out from under her shirt somehow. Blushing lightly, Lizzie started fiddling with the pendant once again; she had done this so often over the past few days, she didn’t even notice.

“Not exactly,” she mumbled sheepishly.

Penny furrowed her brow. “Then who is it from? Charlie?”

Irritated, Lizzie shook her head. Charlie would never give something like jewellery to her.

“We always play Secret Santa with the team before the Christmas break, and whoever got my name,” she explained, “sent me this.”

She held the stone into the light for Penny to better see it, its translucent yellow colouring darkened to amber by the little light washing in from the snowed in windows.

Penny’s eyes widened. “But that is not a gift to give someone over a game. Do you have any idea who it might be from?”

Lizzie tucked the necklace underneath the collar of her shirt, gripping her tea cup with both hands. The warmth stinging her fingers distracted her from the fuzzy feeling creeping up from her stomach.

“I’m pretty sure it’s from Orion,” she sighed. “He is really interested in Divination and Astrology; we had a conversation about birthstones a few weeks ago.”

She was careful to emit what had been written in the note that had come with the package.

Penny inhaled sharply. “Really? That’s so thoughtful! Fits him, I suppose.”

Lizzie concentrated on sipping her tea, only humming vaguely in response.

Sensing her friend being preoccupied with something, Penny tried to catch Lizzie’s gaze that was fixed on the grained wood of the table. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

Lizzie looked up hastily, subconsciously putting her hand to where her the topaz rested under her shirt. “Of course I do.”

“What’s the matter then?”

Lizzie sighed deeply and shook her head. “I don’t know; can we talk about something else?”

But Penny’s curiosity was stirred. “Is it because of what happened at the Weird Sisters concert?” she asked gently.

Lizzie’s head shot up. “Is there anyone who hasn’t seen us?” she cried in dismay, drawing glances from the other tables. She quickly lowered her voice. “How come you never talked to me about it?”

Penny only shrugged. “You know how it is; I see everything, I know everything.” Her eyes sparkled and she lowered her voice as well. “So, out with the facts: is there something between you and him?”

Lizzie raised her eyebrows and made a point of slowly taking another sip of her tea, looking at her prying friend over the rim of her cup. “I thought you knew everything,” she remarked wryly in the hope of buying herself some time.

Penny didn’t let herself be distracted though. She was burning to get confirmation on what had crossed her mind more than a few times by now. “Is this why you were acting so anxiously lately?” she asked eagerly. “Something happened?”

“No,” Lizzie mumbled, now avoiding her inquiring eyes.

“But?” Penny prodded further. She could sense there was something her friend wasn’t telling her.

“No ‘but’,” Lizzie hissed angrily. Why couldn’t Penny just leave it at that? She had absolutely no desire to deal with her emotional mess sooner than she had to. “Nothing happened, nothing’s going on, nothing more to talk about.”

Penny was taken aback by Lizzie’s sudden change of mood. She knew her friend to always have an open ear for gossip and had more than once displayed her own relationship problems in front of her.

“Alright, I got the message; no need to snap at me,” she soothed her, still bewildered. “But you would be really cute together,” she couldn’t help but add cheerfully.

“Great how everyone seems to have an opinion on this,” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Charlie said so as well.”

That took Penny by surprise. “He did? I thought he’d be jealous.”

Lizzie sighed again, but now she sounded more resigned than angry. “Why would he be? I don’t know what else I can do to convince people we are nothing more than friends. Why does no one understand?”

Penny could see how deeply Lizzie felt about this topic. “Maybe because it just doesn’t work very often, you know,” she answered softly. “There is almost always one wanting more than friendship.”

“Not with us,” Lizzie insisted.

“Are you sure? I mean, you actually kissed.”

“That didn’t mean anything.” Lizzie’s anger flared up again. Would they never give it a rest? She wished she hadn’t told them when they had been playing that stupid game in the first place.

Penny chose not to dwell on the subject to not ruin the mood any further.

But now it was Lizzie’s turn to rant on about it. “No one gets why we’re friends; I’m honestly sick of it. If Charlie was a girl, no one would bat an eye about our friendship. But a boy and a girl being friends is something nobody can even imagine working out. They just can’t see the bigger picture of it all.” She was talking herself into a rage and knew it, but she didn’t care.

“Take Skye, for example. I know she hates every moment I spent with Charlie with a passion, but not because he’s on another team; she’s perfectly fine with me and KC being friends. No, she is just dead set on getting the House Cup and afraid someone might distract me, so it would diminish our chances at winning,” Lizzie huffed.

Penny had gone silent at the mention of Skye. Lizzie remembered how Skye had told her she and Penny were still having issues.

“But that’s her, isn’t it?” Penny spoke softly. “It’s what makes Skye; she fastens onto something and doesn’t let go, for better or for worse.” She sounded incredibly sad.

Lizzie recalled what Skye had asked her to do after their last practise. As aggravating as she might be sometimes, she was still one of Lizzie’s closest friends and she wanted her and Penny to finally get over what had happened.

“It’s still strained between you, isn’t it?” she asked sympathetically.

“Yes,” Penny sighed. “It’s not the first time I’ve been in a situation like this, but never with such a close friend. Talking to her is so awkward; I don’t know how to act around her anymore.”

“Just act like you did before. All Skye wants is for things to go back to how they were, so she can concentrate on what matters to her. She gets a lot of pressure from home, you know?”

Penny looked up in surprise. “You think so?”

“I know it,” Lizzie corrected her. Ethan Parkin wasn’t the most pleasant person, but Lizzie knew how much Penny adored the star of the Wigtown Wanderers, so she kept her thoughts on him to herself.

“Skye thinks she has a legacy to uphold, which is why winning the House Cup means so much to her,” she elaborated instead. “And everything distracting her makes it harder for her to focus on her goal. Skye just wants things to go back to normal so she can be her old, over-ambitious self again.”

“And you think acting like nothing happened might work?” Penny still sounded very doubtful.

Lizzie shrugged her concerns off. “What do you have to lose? Many problems tend to solve themselves given some time.”

“So, your advice is, act like nothing happened and be friends with her again?” Penny asked again pointedly.

“Basically, yes.”

“Sounds like an advice you should listen to yourself then,” Penny muttered. “You running from Orion can’t be particularly good for the Hufflepuff team, can it?”

Lizzie groaned at her bringing Orion up again. “This is something very different.”

“Is it though?”

“Yes, it is!” Lizzie insisted stubbornly. “There is nothing wrong with him and me.”

Penny shook her head. “We’ve known each other for too long now, Liz; this doesn’t work with me.”

“But it’s true though; Orion and I aren’t a thing right now and we will certainly never be in the future.” Lizzie clarified with a finality she hoped would discourage Penny to prod into it any further.

But the other girl was an expert at picking up the underlying emotions in her voice. She had made out the hint of frustration that had stolen into Lizzie’s determined statement. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than Penny.

“Why?” she simply asked back.

Lizzie blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why won’t you ever be a thing? Seems a bit harsh to completely rule things out forever.”

Lizzie’s eyes flickered to the side. She had subconsciously pulled her necklace out from her collar again, her nimble fingers toying with the yellow stone absentmindedly.

“No, it’s not,” she muttered. “We just can’t.”

Penny didn’t respond to her. If she knew one thing, it was people that needed to get something off their chests were best left to talk on their own accord.

And really, after a moment Lizzie let go off her necklace and picked up her teaspoon instead, nervously running her thumb over the shining silver over and over again.

“I really shouldn’t tell you,” she tried one last time.

Penny remained silent, giving the other girl time to figure out her next words.

“Alright,” Lizzie finally caved. “You know the tutoring sessions Rowan and I have with Orion?

Penny raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I never understood why you of all people are needing them in the first place.”

“That’s the point,” Lizzie replied. “Neither of us does. It was all Rowan’s idea.”

Now Penny was visibly confused. “Why would Rowan fake bad grades?”

Lizzie looked at her intently before she continued. “You must promise to keep this to yourself, alright? Not even Rowan must know I told you this.”

Penny nodded in agreement.

“See, Rowan has had a crush on Orion for ages now. I know,” Lizzie added at Penny’s apparent surprise, “I had no idea as well. I offered help in setting them up and we needed a framework to do it.”

“So you’ve been taking lessons with Orion to get him interested in Rowan?”

Lizzie nodded. Coming out of Penny’s mouth it all suddenly sounded utterly ridiculous.

“This is why Orion and I could never be more than friends, you know? I could never betray Rowan like that. She is my best friend after all.” Lizzie raked her hand through her hair erratically, leaving her ponytail looking worse for wear.

“It all such a mess. I’m just glad she seems to be the one person who didn’t saw us dancing.”

“Yes, I believe she was at the bathroom when it happened,” Penny hummed in confirmation. “My goodness, I had no idea.” She seemed perturbed at the idea her friends had been able to hide such a major piece of information from her.

“What do you want to do now?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t know. Follow my own advice maybe? Try to act as if nothing happened and hope things go back to normal. Or do you think I should come clean with him about what has been going on?”

Penny contemplated it for a moment. “I’m not sure this would be a good idea. You would have to rat Rowan out and Orion would probably be mad at both of you. That would actually help no one.”

“What then?”

“Have you thought about talking to Rowan about all of this?”

She saw Lizzie wince at the thought of confronting her friend. “Think about it, you could come up with something different together. And I would also advise on cancelling the tutoring,” she added.

Lizzie looked uncomfortable at the thought. “But what if I don’t want to?” she asked sheepishly. “Orion is a really good teacher. My grades shot through the roof since I started studying with him.” Lizzie chuckled wryly. “Who knows, I might come to actually enjoy Herbology in the end.”

Penny remained firm though. “I still think it would be for the best. At least until you have sorted yourself out.”

Lizzie didn’t reply; she seemed to be deeply lost in thought at her words.

“Believe me,” Penny told her gently, “it is never worth to risk a friendship over something like that.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #orion amari x mc #quidditch #penny haywood #lizzie jameson #art of balance #aob #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad

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the-l-spacer · 3 years

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Summary: Lloyd Allen is sick and alone at his house. This is unacceptable.

Written for Day 7 of Shaperaverse week, for the prompt ‘Family, Home’ - and is a continuation of the theatre kids au in chapter 1! I had a blast writing for this event. Thank you for reading!!

Lloyd Allen is sick. Like, sick sick. Not the sort where he gets a runny nose and maybe a hoarse throat that clears up in a day.

No, this is the everything-at-once, Chernobyl-nuclear-fucking-meltdown-anthropomorphised kind of sick. He’s hot (and not in the good way that, as Kelis once put it, brings all the boys to the yard). His throat feels like someone attempted to make him swallow hot control rods (to continue the Chernobyl metaphor). About every facial orifice is leaking steadily. Looking at himself in the mirror is an experience akin to staring at the Elephant’s Foot.

To put it sparingly, he feels like shit.

And, he laments, lying on his side on the living room couch, today is the absolute worst day to fall sick.

Through half open eyes, he gazes at the clock hung on the wall, — an old-fashioned thing circled with Roman numerals, because everything about his dad is old fashioned, a trait that passed from father to son — ticking steadily to 10am, when rehearsal is slated to start.

He briefly considers pushing himself off the couch, wrapping himself in a warm coat, and going anyways. After all, they’re just starting to rehearse Janissary in earnest, having almost memorized the scripts and choreography and blocking, and it physically pains him to be absent just when the real work is about to begin.

On the other hand, he can’t have the entire cast be bedridden because of him.

Mulling over his choices, he doesn’t remember when exactly he blacked out, only to be woken up again by the vibrating of his phone on the floor next to him.

Groaning, he reaches out his hand to answer it, and the very action feels like moving through slow, thick honey. He manages, but by the time he brings the phone to his face, the call ends.

The too-bright display tells him he missed a call from Asha.

A slight smile crosses his face. Of course she’d be the first to call him.

He dials back, and she picks up right away. “Lloyd?” Her voice is high and hurried. “Thank goodness you picked up. Me and the others are so worried. Are you all right?”

Try to sound like nothing’s wrong. “I’m fi-achOO!”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh Lloyd, you’re sick?”

“That- that much is obvious, Asha.” He forces the words out through a stuck throat, and is too busy cringing as sneeze-gunk runs down his face (gross) to regret his curt tone.

She sucks in a breath. “Sorry, sorry, god I’m such an asshole. Is it a fever?”

He wants to tell her that the asshole is him, that she shouldn’t waste her breath on someone as ungrateful as he, but all he manages is a short, “Yeah.”

“And from the sound of it, a sore throat and a stuffy nose as well. Do you have a glass of water somewhere nearby? Do you feel well enough to see the doctor?”

“No, and… no.”

“Lloyd- “

“Sorry.”

“- stop- stop hating yourself for one second. I was going to say I can come over right now, if you want me to.”

That’s enough to snap him awake. “NO!” He pauses, wiping his nose. “No. Continue rehearsing, take over for me. I want everyone’s lines fully memorized by next week.”

Now it’s Asha’s turn to be the naysayer of the conversation. He listens, with some grim satisfaction, as she splutters on the phone. “M-me? You want me to be- bu-“

“I’m sick, remember?” He coughs once, for emphasis. “You have to do what I say.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll do my best, and I’ll let the others know you can’t make it. In the meantime, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yyyyes?”

“And you’re sure you’re getting enough water? Did you take a panadol? I could get some soup delivered to you-“

The rest of the conversation passes in a blurry haze. He vaguely remembers telling Asha to very much not waste precious rehearsal time by ordering food for him, and was it a fever-induced hallucination, or did he tell David to take over as narrator? Did he comfort the fraught third year until he no longer could, Asha finally stepping in to tell him to rest?

Well that he can certainly do. As Asha says something about sleeping in a cold place, he is already drifting off on the couch. He watches the (decidedly not cold) living room’s ceiling fan turn lazy circles, he murmurs a half-conscious ‘I love you’ to Asha, and he finally surrenders to unconsciousness.

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

“Lloyd? Are you there?”

What….

Lloyd stirs, and immediately regrets doing so. His hair sticks to the nape of his neck, and a layer of awful post-nap sweat coats his skin. Yet, despite the warm, stuffy air, he’s shivering, curling into himself, trying to figure out if the knocks on the door are figments of his fevered imagination.

“I think he’s still asleep.” The voices he hears are muffled, but definitely there. Is that David?

“Nothing else for it, we gotta pick the lock. I can use my hairpin.”

“Jill, NO!” His ears pick up Asha’s shrill soprano.

Michael’s telltale drawl comes next. “Doesn’t Lloyd keep a key outside the house somewhere? Was it the doormat, or the flowerpot…”

Lloyd’s eyes drift closed once again, until…

“LLOYD!!!” Two blurs bound toward him, but are quickly yanked back.

“Don’t crowd him! He’s way too warm as is.”

Lloyd rasps, “Asha... ? And Jill and Michael a.. And David? What are you all doing here?”

He feels himself being lifted, bridal style, and pressed against a sturdy chest, can feel the vibrations as Michael speaks. “We’re here’ta take care of our favourite stage manager, of course!”

“But.. you.. Rehearsals?”

“Done and dusted,” David says, hovering behind Michael as he carries Lloyd into the bedroom, depositing him gently on his soft mattress. “It went… not terribly, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Pfft, Davey here’s bein’ waaay too modest. As you predicted, he makes a pre-tty awesome narrator.”

David opens his mouth to protest, but Michael shushes him. “Go, set up the Switch so our boy Lloyd has somethin’ to entertain himself with once he’s feelin’ better.”

The obliging theatre techie in David wins out over his self-deprecating side, and he obediently trots off, leaving Michael in the room with a rather overwhelmed Lloyd.

“Don’t lie,” Lloyd begins, “was he really…”

“Yes.” Michael fishes out a thermometer from his backpack and takes Lloyd’s temperature. “Woof, 38 degrees. You’re burnin’ up. Aaanyways, David’s a little nervous, sure, I’ll let Asha fill you in on all the specific details, but he’s got potential. A loootta potential.”

Lloyd lets out a breath. “Good.”

“Now less talkin’, more tryna’ get better soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lloyd gives a small nod.

The other boy pats his arm, and leaves Lloyd, giving room for Jill to breeze in, pushing cups of honey lemon and hot herbal tea and instructing him to drink, opening the windows to let the cool spring air in, and twining small flowers around his shelves and bedposts, before finally pulling his rolling study chair over to his bedside.

“Asha’s in overdrive,” she says conspiratorially, “been freaking out ever since the call. She tried to hide it, obviously, but we could tell. She’s, like, super worried about you, so real talk. Are you okay?”

The chamomile tea warms his throat as he drinks, and he finds his voice flowing freer than before. “I’m all right, really. Some irresponsible delinquent in my lit class came in with a flu, which no doubt passed on to me.”

“But you’ve never been sick before, at least, you haven’t been like the entire time we’ve known you!”

“When my immune system is down, it’s down, I suppose.”

Jill’s face pulls in a sympathetic pout. “Oof, that’s rough. Least it’s not anything serious. If it was something serious, you’d tell us, right?”

Lloyd must have paused too long, because Jill leans forward with sudden seriousness, necklaces adorned with tiny silver trinkets dangling in front of his face. “We care about you. I know Michael and I like to give you grief, but we really do. We’ve been friends for years now, and if something happened, it’d be like I lost my- my brother or something!”

His face heats. “Jill… I... of course. Of course I’d tell you. I care for you all greatly as well, even if I don’t show it.” His hand finds Jill’s. “Thank you, for saying that.”

She gives his hand a squeeze. “Just saying what we’re all thinking. I’m gonna go play Smash with Michael and David. You,” she stands up, tapping his shoulder lightly, “rest.”

“I will.”

She leaves Lloyd, a little confused at the interaction, though all that falls away when Asha enters the room, a bowl of hot ginseng chicken broth in hand.

“I’m sorry for being so curt on the phone, just now,” he blurts out.

Asha waves his apology off. “Water under the bridge. Eat up.”

Time passes, Lloyd savouring spoonfuls of soup as Asha sponges him with cold water, giving him a play-by-play of their rehearsal. The details remain hazy in his mind, though Lloyd does chuckle when his friend tells him of David forgetting he was so far downstage that he almost missed his cue and fell right off the raised platform, saved only when Michael yanked him backwards.

“That.. certainly explains why his shirt is hanging off of him a little looser than before.” Lloyd remarks.

Asha sweeps the finished bowl of soup from his grasp, replacing it with a glass of water and a Panadol. “Interesting that even with a fever, you notice how David’s shirt fits on him.”

It’s lucky that Lloyd only has the glass raised to his lips, else he would have done a spit-take. “Wh- what?!?? Who said anything about me staring at David’s shirt?! It’s just a- a casual observation, anyone would notice it!”

Asha grins. “Naturally, naturally.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Nothing!” She says breezily.

Lloyd stares at Asha, currently sending a text on her phone to someone. From the living room outside, he hears Jill snort.

Ordinarily, he would press, but as is, his information-overloaded brain begins to shut down once again.

“Sure,” he says finally.

Asha looks at him with surprise. “That it? You’re letting me off that easy?”

“ ‘m tired,” he simply says, sinking lower into his sheets. “I’ll ask again if I remember.”

Asha busies herself switching on the AC, drawing the curtains so they don’t let in the late afternoon sun. “Sleep, and properly this time, okay? We’ll be waiting outside for you once you wake up.”

“M’kay.” His eyes are already half-closed, watching Asha hover in the doorway.

“I love you, Lloyd.”

I really did say that on the phone, huh.

Nothing else for it, then. “Love you too.”

When Lloyd wakes, his senses come alive one at a time. He feels better than he did in the morning, the medicine doing its work so he’s no longer covered in a cold sweat. His nose is no longer stuffy, and the room’s cool air is permeated with the faint scent of chrysanthemum.

He sits up. It’s properly dark, now, and he can hear faint voices outside.

Gingerly, Lloyd pads out of his room, peeks around the entrance to the living room, and sees his friends, crammed together on the couch, whisper-screaming as Princess Peach beat the shit out of Link on the TV screen.

It’s hard to tell who it was who notices him standing in the shadows first, but it’s David who says, “Guys, Lloyd’s up!”, followed by a responding chorus of cheers from his friends.

His friends.

Is it his fever, or is the warmth he feels rushing through him as they make room on the couch coming from someplace else entirely?

Is him resting his head on David’s shoulder a result of fatigue, or… something else?

And is David tilting his head so it rests on his in turn coming from the same place too?

Later, they sit at the kitchen table, eating soupy noodles ordered in by Michael, and Lloyd wonders if it's the hunger from his previously light meals, or if the food, eaten as he sits surrounded by his friends, is the best he’s ever had?

Is it the thinking of his sickness-muddled mind, or is his house, filled with inane chatter and loud, boisterous laughter, so unlike the cold, quiet days spent with his father, more like a home to him than it ever was before?

And is it his imagination, or is this small group of theatre nerds truly his family? Family he never had, family that disappeared when his mother left?

Even after his father does return, frowning at the mess and noise, and his friends sheepishly clear the takeout boxes and unplug the switch and wash the dirty plates and cups, finally bidding him forlorn goodbyes and get-well-soons, the thoughts don’t go away.

Lloyd pops another pill and heads back to bed, sending a short ‘thank you’ in the main cast and crew group chat, switching off his phone as he sees the wall of responding texts and stickers flooding in.

He settles his sheets back around him, catches sight of evidence that the afternoon and evening truly happened - flowers adding a splash of colour to the space, a scribbled ‘gws’ post-it from David on his bedside table.

Lloyd Allen goes back to sleep with a small smile. After all, the sooner he gets better, the sooner he can return to the theatre. The sooner he can see his family. The sooner he can come home.

#new albion #shaperaverse #paul shapera #sorry i cranked this out at like 1 am and dont have the energy to edit it so #here take it #prompt week was kinda intense but like. fun! never wrote this much in such a short span of time b4 dlkjfas kinda proud tbh

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peakatseven · 3 years

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MICHAAAA CONGRATULATIONS

🌕 broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

andddd

🎸 haunted

this bitch really came for me asking for a story AND a cover of such a hard song to sing. okay thanks i guess.

nah im just kidding babe i had so much fun writing this! i feel like it’s the first time in years that i’m posting proper fanfiction? kind of? idk i was trying to find another name for the mc but i kept picturing frat boy harry so here we go:

Concentration is impossible when the silence is loud and the work is important. The worst part is when one starts thinking about the need of being concentrated, rather than the actual work that needs to be done. As a university student, Harry was no different than most: his anxiety about school and his future co-existed with the emotional backlash of relationships and the need to "experience the best years of your life". There were few people with whom he wouldn't worry about meeting some kind of expectation. But she had been silent with him for the better part of a year. Images of Caro kept coming back to him, a trauma he couldn't let go off. Granted, it was the one painful brake up he'd experienced, one that was never truly over. Even now, uncountable names in between him and her, he still couldn't get her blue eyes off of his mind. The thought of her porcelain skin over his sun-kissed body came to him every single one of his one-night-stands. And at that moment, sitting on his desk, trying to get his homework done, the memory of her laughter drowned every sentence he tried to compose. He forced everything out with a loud grunt, grabbing his head with both hands and pulling on his hair. "The results show that 73.3% of patients responded positively to the treatment." He voiced out loud, trying to silence Caro's laughter in his mind. "No, that's bullshit." After a few moments staring at the cursor beeping at the end of his last sentence, he finally shut the laptop down. On an impulse, he unlocked his phone and opened a conversation from three days prior. He should've answered it when he got the text, but he wasn't in the mood at the time. "Hey, babe, wanna go for a beer rn?" He wasn't even done changing when the phone buzzed on the table. Two happy emojis popped up, and then a "Meet you there in 10". He kept the speed up as he rode off campus, through a park and then into the city. He was glad for the chill air against his face, numbing it to the point where it was the only thing he was able to think about. Finally some peace of mind. It wasn't dark yet when he got to the bar, but the sun had already set behind the buildings. There was one single tree, barely taller than him but strong enough to hold his bike. As he secured it, a red leaf fell to his knee. It was autumn when he got to kiss Caro for the first time, and it was also autumn when he kissed her last. "Nope. Something else, think of something else." he thought to himself. Incapable of coming up with anything, he brought out a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Somewhere inside him, there was a bit of guilt about what he was trying to do. But it'd been so long since he started that it no longer bothered him. His new game was called Darren. The younger guy looked like a model, straight silver hair and pale skin that Harry couldn't wait to leave marks on. All he could think about when Darren was around was the things he wanted to do to him. It was purely sensual, and that was pretty clear from the start. Or at least that's what he told himself. That Darren was on the same page as him- no strings attached, just fun and games. But the way his phone had been buzzing ever since he got on the bike, there was clearly more interest from one side. But instead of doing the right thing, and not stringing him along, Harry was about to sleep with him again and leave with a lame excuse to not spend the night. And then it was back to emotionless texts, conversations on the verge of ghosting him just in case he'd be in the mood again. But it was okay, Darren was playing the same game. He had the same dynamic with a lot of people lately. None knew of each other. They didn't have to, and they didn't ask either. He was no monster, though. Harry would tell that to himself constantly. That because no one had explicitly asked for exclusivity, it was implied they weren't obliged to it. The only one who did, what was her name again? Odella... no, that's not right... Ornella, maybe? He laughed dryly at himself. He'd become one of those guys that didn't even remember the names of all of his

partners. But he was no dougebag, when Ornella asked to be exclusive, he straight up told her no and then never bothered her again. They weren't on the same page anymore, so no more games. He wondered if that would ever happen with Darren too. There was not much time to think about this, because he was soon greeting the guy with a half hug and a gentle kiss just beside his lips. "You smell nice." Darren said, hands in his pockets and scarf almost over his mouth. "You just like the smell of tabacco." Harry smirked and put the unfinished cigarette down. "Let's get in, you're freezing." The night went exactly how Harry planned it. All his jokes were welcomed by Darren, and he let the young boy win at pull- he was cute when he bragged about his skills. But the best feeling was whenever Harry would approach Darren. A stroke of the lower back, a smirk from the other side of the table, a kiss when no one was near... Darren accepted any and everything Harry was willing to give him. The power high that it gave him to have someone be so devoted to him was indescribable. But the night was fully set and he was growing impatient. "Let's get out of here." He whispered to Darren's ear right before his turn. Darren had already started pulling Harry's bike for him when the phone on his pocket buzzed again. Harry walked alongside his date, though his eyes were on his phone. He had a lost call that he hadn't noticed while inside. The number wasn't saved to his phone anymore, but he hadn't managed to erase it from his own memory yet. "Oh, shit." He whispered. "I... Sorry, man, I have to go. There's a- um, it's a family thing." Harry was on his bike before his date could answer. He didn't even look at Darren's eyes before leaving. There was a sting of guilt building up, and maybe he'd feel disgusted by himself if it wasn't for the sheer adrenaline running through his veins. Maybe the alcohol had a bit to do with it too. This had only happened a few times before, and the outcome was always the same. Still, Harry couldn't keep himself from falling to his knees when it came to her. As he rode his bike as fast as he could go, a cynical smile crept on his lips. How ironic. Darren was probably feeling the same way about Harry just a few hours prior. Whenever Caro was in town, she stayed at her best friend's apartment- all the way on the other side of the city. So it was past midnight already when he got to the building. There was a party on the roof, maybe they could sneak in for more drinks. She had some catching up to do, as Harry was already tipsy. Still, he didn't have to check the phone to know which floor to go to and which door to knock. Just like everything else about Caro, he had it indefinitely memorized. 409, the doorknocker was a silver seagull. A very heavy, silver seagull. At first, Harry didn't feel it when his finger got caught in between the door and the seagull, but by the third time he knocked, it started changing colour. "Hm." He said to himself as he examined the swollen-red finger. He put it in his mouth and kept on knocking to the beat of the music coming from above. Why did they have the music so loud? Harry could barely hear his own thoughts, so the neighbours had to be furious about this noise. Carolina was probably waiting for Harry, who was already late due to how far he was when she texted him. "Fuck!" He said, taking his phone out of his pocket again. He hadn't answered. Dumb ass. "im herre" He sent the text before reading the ones Caro had sent before. One was a laughing emoji and the other was a voice note. There were people laughing on the background, and someone turned the music down a bit for Caro to speak into her phone. "I'm so sorry, ignore that, it was a dare." She half said, half laughed. Harry didn't understand, so he played it again. Again. Again. And again one more time. Was she talking about the lost call? or was it about her being in town? Had he really fallen for such a stupid trap? Harry fell to the floor, phone glued to his ear as the voice note played over and over again. His chest was about to

explode, face red and throat dry. He knocked on the door again, now with his fist. The inevitable tear fell down his cheek, though it was impossible to know if it was sadness or anger that caused it. "Oh, god." Someone said behind him. But when he turned around, the stairs were empty and someone on hills was running up the stairs. He got up and ran after them, but he was too intoxicated to keep up. He fell halfway up the stairs, having to crawl for a few steps before getting up. On the rooftop, there were too many people in heels to know which one had seen him. "Great." He sight. Might as well look around. He walked around the place, inhaling the cold air of the night and trying to calm down, make sense of what had just happened. He was about to light up his last cigarette when someone took it from him. She had long purple nails and her skin glowed under the moonlight. She smirked as the cigarette reached her mouth. He lit it up for her. "I didn't think you'd actually come." She said. Her smirk turned into a sincere smile. "You told me to." "Yes, but I also said you should ignore that." "Well I didn't." He took the cigarette from her fingers and smoked himself before speaking again. "Should I go?" He wanted to seem as cool with the situation as she appeared to be, hide the fact that he had just been played like a puppet for a fucking drinking game dare. "What happened to you finger?" She shouted, stepping closer to him. "I- I don't remember." Harry lied. There was still a bit of dignity to be salvaged. And there it was, but this time it was real. Her laugh, once again, drowned every thought on his mind. There was no music and no people around them anymore, it was just him and her, together again, laughing in the middle of the night. "You know I meant to call you, right?" Caro said, a hand tenderly rubbing his arm. She knew exactly what she was doing, and he knew it too. "I'm sure you did." He said. "I did!" She pushed him a little, both cracking a knowing smile. "I promise I did, it's just that-" "Shut the fuck up." He felt more stable now that he'd taken some air and the alcohol effect had cooled down. "It's okay, Caro. Let's just have fun tonight and see what happens." "Sounds fun." She leaned in and kissed him on his cheek, the kiss lingering just a second too long. He instinctively put a hand on her hip, but she walked away swiftly after the kiss. The pain on his chest came back, and the little composure he had gained crumbled. She wasn't coming back to him. This time it was definitive, and it had been for a while now. But the worst realization that came to him that night, was how much power she had over him. How much hope, urge, love, anger and pain she could cause in just a matter of hours. She had him at her mercy, like a puppet she could toy with however she wanted. They were both the same kind of wicked, using others for validation, feasting on their adoration. But as much pain as it caused him to know he was at the other end of his own game, it also sparked joy to know he could provide that for her.

#idk how to add an audio file to an ask so the cover is posting in a bit #hope you like it!!!#asks #micha's 700 celebration!#thelasttimeyoueversawme

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

A Real Winter - Scala Kids

Merry Christmas Eve from Nova! Or Happy Holidays if you don’t celebrate Christmas.

This is my alternative work for the Hearts for the Holidays zine. I liked the other more in terms of it’s spirit and emotion, but I still liked this one enough to complete and share with all of you. Enjoy Xehanort’s first real winter.

Inspiration: Yeah, this

~~~~~

“You better watch out! You better watch out! You better WATCH OUT!”

Those two blockheads have been singing the same thing for five minutes now, ever since Eraqus forgot the next line and repeated the one before. Then that smarmy Fluffcoat—Bragi—joined in and they’ve just been ominously singing the same line over and over.

Other than the threat-chanting morons, today has been a new experience for Xehanort. Having spent his entire life on a pair of tiny, tropical islands, he’s never actually seen real snow before. Spring was in full swing in Scala Ad Caelum when he arrived and it only shifted into an even hotter summer. Granted, autumn was pretty and another first for him but, hands down, this winter wonderland is one of the most beautiful scenes he’s ever seen.

In the first snowfall of the season, the new key bearer was out in the middle of it, awing at the sky until Vor and Hermod ushered him back inside. The down pour over the next few days kept them all holed up indoors—that and Xe caught a cold. Now that the weather has had time to dump a bounty of snow across the city and all the students are healthy, they’re out to sightsee and show the newcomer what a real winter is.

And what a sight to see. Scala itself is normally a bright place with white buildings and shining adornments, but blankets of snow make everything nearly pure white and it’s almost enough to burn retinas. Still, when it isn’t blinding innocent civilians, Xehanort distinctly thinks of diamonds when looking at the glittering powder. It sparkles and glimmers and even the crystal ocean of his home world can’t compare to the sight. His friends can barely convince him to stick with the group—they want to meander while he’s raring to race through the streets and see it all as soon as possible. He has to admit, though, a slower pace does give him a chance to really appreciate the true beauty that the weather has presented them.

They finally reach the park where a seemingly endless expanse of untouched snow dazzles the silver eyes. Powerful is the desire to disturb the perfect scene yet at the same time, he wants to just take this moment to take it in. That’s ruined when there’s a pull on his jacket.

Xehanort peers over his new scarf at his shortest classmate. With another tug, she says, “Let’s build a snowman!”

With no idea how to do that, he gives the others one last glance before being dragged off the path to ruin that perfect blanket. Vor excitedly scoops up a pile of snow while explaining to Xehanort how to build a snowman. It’s pretty straightforward: roll snow up in a ball and stack three of those on top of each other. Not about to ruin her fun, he copies his friend’s action and starts rolling a handful of frost.

Before long, Xehanort has a decent mass of powder packed together when Urd calls him over; a much larger orb sits between the girls.

“Put it right here,” Vor instructs, patting the top of the base. They reinforce the seam with extra powder as Eraqus brings over another orb, heaving it on top.

“Lookin’ good,” he hums.

Vor dusts her hands. “Now he needs a face.”

Before a confused Xehanort can ask, Bragi announces, “Way ahead of you.” He and Hermod have been collecting sticks and stones for their creation.

The islander watches the Scala natives poke rocks into the thing to emulate buttons, eyes, and a smile that looks rather drunken. This tipsy appearance is further created by the crooked arms that mimic an inebriated jig. The whole group looks rather proud of this morally questionable mound of snow.

The blond tilts her head. “Hmm, he’s still missing something.”

Hermod tugs at his scarf. “Here.”

“Perfect!” Her smile turns to concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I wanted to get a new one anyway. That one has a hole in it.”

As the girl tries to tie the scarf around the taller counterfeit being, Xehanort’s still not sure about this whole snowman thing.

“If he’s made of snow, why does he need a scarf?”

Vor beams. “It just makes him look cute. Isn’t that right, Shawn?”

“Shawn…the Snowman?” Urd questions.

“Yes!”

“Well okay then.”

Hermod chuckles. “Sounds like a good name to me.”

Firstly, there’s really no reason to argue with Vor about such a trivial thing and, second, none of the others were likely to come up with anything better to call him. However, surely there’s someone who’d have some quip about “Shawn,” but he’s mysteriously vanished.

“Hey, where’s Bragi?” Vor asks.

Xehanort glances around. “Eraqus is missing too.”

As the four fall silent, a rhythmic humming can be heard.

“You better watch out! You better watch out!”

Across the path is a low hurdle of snow. In time with their ridiculous chanting, the troublemakers pop up from behind the wall to add to its bulk. All the while, their mantra slowly morphs into shouting.

“YOU BETTER WATCH OUT! YOU BETTER WATCH OUT! YOU BETTER WATCH—”

Hermod heaves a sigh. “What are those two—”

THWAK!

Down goes the model student in an explosion of powder. Xehanort immediately ducks, now fully aware that those rabble-rousers have started an assault.

“Run! Run!” Vor shrieks, fleeing for the first defense she can get at: behind a tree.

Xehanort slinks away behind good ol’ Shawn for cover, just missing a projectile aimed for his head. He watches as the ambushers prep more ammo and their first victim drags himself into the shelter of Shawn with him.

“What the heck is going on?”

“They started a snowball fight,” Hermod grumbles, wiping a sleeve across his face. “Basically we just throw chunks of snow at each other. But at least it’s two against four.”

Xehanort distinctly notes the head of silver hair ducking down behind the barricade with the hoodlums. “I think Urd just defected.”

“Oh no…”

“FIIIIIIRRRRRE!”

Both boys look back to see little Vor with a mound of scooped snow and hurling them across the path like a machine. Her barrage alone is enough to cause the rebels to cower and earn gaping mouths.

The two exchange glances and Hermod tells him, “You make ammo and I’ll make the wall.”

Xehanort agrees with a nod and begins packing snow into throwable clumps while Hermod shoves more around Shawn to extend his protection.

Even odds take over the battlefield as the underdogs gain some ground: Guardian Shawn’s wall has been built and Vor uses her secret talent of snowball flinging while Hermod and Xehanort provide back up and ammo. More importantly, Xehanort is having a blast. Behind the dramatic “fatalities” and battle cries, every one of the kids is laughing and giving the game their best.

There was no telling what this new season would bring the boy who only knew humid summer all year round, but based on the beauty alone, winter quickly became his favorite. However, now that he’s out enjoying what the weather has to offer—now that he’s making memories with newfound friends—the snowy season will forever be his favorite time of year.

A shot of freezing cold splatters against Xehanort’s ear. He launches his retaliation across the expanse, knocking Eraqus back behind shelter. Vor follows up with a volley of her own.

“SURRENDER!” she demands.

“NEVER!” the blockhead boys shout back.

Her orders turn on her teammates. “Gimme another!”

“We’re running out of useable snow,” Hermod says, plopping an orb with stray bits of dead grass in her hand. “Unless someone wants to run out there and risk getting pelted.”

“Unless we use Shawn,” Xehanort tacks on.

He’s never encountered such a wrathful look of offense, but Vor is deeply disturbed by the suggestion. “Don’t you dare touch Shawn!”

“He’s too tightly packed anyway,” Hermod informs them. “We might have to surrender.” It’s his turn to face the offended expressions of his classmates: Vor is too invested in this battle and Xehanort never admits defeat.

“No,” the girl states flatly. “This is what we’re gonna do.”

She gives the boys her do-or-die plan. Hermod is a little reluctant, but has never been one to let his classmates down; Xehanort, on the other hand, is already on board, risking attack by reaching for good, fresh snow beyond Shawn’s wall. With a stockpile for little Vor to support the longer-legged boys, the trio makes their move.

The second the opposition all ducks behind shelter, Hermod and Xehanort dart in opposite directions. Urd pops up, only to be forced back under cover by Vor’s onslaught.

“They’re coming!” she alerts the other two.

Bragi and Eraqus attempt to halt the pincer maneuver, but the sharpshooter keeps them in check. With Vor watching their backs, the boys are able to slip around enemy lines. The victims put their backs to the wall, successfully cornered, and the petite blond scurries over to reinforce that advantage. Snowballs are held up in warning.

“Give up!” Xehanort shouts.

“No!” Bragi snaps, resulting in a snowball exploding in his face, curtesy of Vor.

Eraqus is not as eager for his punishment, attempting to hide behind Urd. “Alright! We give! We give!”

Hermod drops his arm, but Vor throws hers in the air. “Whoo! We win!”

Chuckling, Xehanort tosses his last snowball off to the side. “Looks like I win again, Fleetfoot,” he says as he extends a hand to his rival.

Despite having lost, Eraqus gives him a grin and takes the offer. “Yeah right. Vor handed you that one. You and Hermod would’ve been toast without her.”

One teammate does not disagree while the other is quite proud of herself. Xehanort, on the other hand, is a bit miffed. “Please. One on one and I’d have you cowering in under a minute.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve got a red mark on your face from where I got you.”

“One lucky shot doesn’t win a war,” Xehanort retorts.

“Why don’t you two continue this on the way back to the castle?” Hermod suggests, his hands shivering against their shoulders. The herd has been out long enough that everyone seems to be stifling shudders.

So the pack treks back to the citadel, taking refuge from the frosty weather in the student dorms. Damp layers are discarded for dry before everyone meets back in the commons. Hermod and Vor are kind enough make the hot chocolate while Xehanort and Urd get the fireplace going. As the sun begins to set, everyone sits in a happy comfort, chatting among themselves and enjoying the warm fire.

As he sits, Xehanort’s eyes travel to each of these kids he’s only spent a handful of months with. Being aloof and distant had been his specialty from the beginning—not everyone on his home world liked him and those assumptions transferred with him to this world—but not one of these people seemed to acknowledge that. He brushed off attempts to be friendly and even picked fights with Eraqus, but they remained welcoming and friendly; they did not meet his expectations of people which was something he didn’t know he wanted until this very moment. They spent all this time with him, breaking down those beliefs of his and creating friendships with him. Everything about Scala Ad Caelum flipped all he knew and this snow—his first real winter spent with actual friends—has cemented the idea that he has a bright future ahead of him.

“So what do you think of winter so far?” Pulling Xehanort from his ponderings is an elbow from Eraqus: the one who’s destroyed the most expectations.

A smile pulls at his lips. “It’s better than I thought it would be.”

All of it is.

#scala kids #xehanort #eraqus #urd #bragi #vor #hermod

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