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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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Yanderes caring for a sick darling hcs - Mondstadt girls edition

Starring: Amber, Eula, Jean, Lisa, Rosaria

[Mondstadt boys edition]

[Liyue boys edition]

Amber

Despite the fact that she can be rather forgetful and disorganized at times, Amber will consider caring for you as a highest sort of reward and responsibility at the same time.

It’s thrilling to have you all weak and dependent on her, Amber’s darker side swells and blossoms at this sight - outrider will never admit it though, preferring to think of herself as a simple girl who fell head over heels, not some freak who derives pleasure from the control over one vulnerable person.

Moreover, she is a generally kind person finding helping others generally rewarding and satisfying, so tending is also a kind of duty, feeling responsible for your health and well-being. It just doesn’t sit right with her to keep you ill, even if it gives her an upper hand.

The outrider will be very eager to help you recover and get better, even if it means parting away from you. The doctor might prescribe some special herbs that grow only in Liyue or say Dragonspine, and Amber will take it with all seriousness, starting to pack all of the needed equipment the same day.

She will depart for her destination, unafraid of both harsh, boreal winds or the beasts of other land, her determination burning as bright and hot as her pyro-infused arrows.

When she returns, the travelling bag full of the needed herbs and plants, she will lunge at you caging you in a tight hug and peppering your face and neck with kisses, uncaring that she might get sick too - Amber missed you that much.

Then, she will turn into your personal caretaker - always attentive and sometimes stern, she will guide you on the path to recovery, insisting that you need to do everything to get better.

Amber will also be an especially good listener - being sick sucks, she knows it, she also knows that you have a lot of grievances given your situation and if providing a careful ear to all your complaints will ease even an inch of your suffering she will gladly do it.

Eula

The offspring of a widely hated, but also incredibly wealthy clan, Eula has always received all the medical help she needed as a child, be it a thin, shallow scratch and a couple of angry bruises after the sword training session or the seasonal cold she accidentally caught.

On the other hand, she never received any emotional support during those times - recovery is a hard process, both mentally and physically, and spending her days completely lonely and sick left a lasting impression on Eula. Lawrences shrugged off her complaints and pleas for some compassion, an understanding, gentle care - she is of noble blood, she needs to be above some bodily discomfort - no matter if she’s an ill, feverish eight year old in need of some comfort.

Subsequently, she knows how to treat most of the ailments, yet she is bad at providing emotional support. Deprived of love and care her whole life, Eula is clumsy and awkward at providing it for you - you need some direct words of reassurance, something that isn’t hidden by her usual vengeance-obsessed facade.

Eula will spend a considerable amount of mora on your medicine, it’s so big that her Spindrift captain salary might not fully cover - she doesn’t care as your health is her top priority.

Instead of words, she will show her support and care in deeds, cooking some light but savoury and fulfilling soups, as not to disturb your stomach and offering massage and her services.

Eula won’t let you do anything taxing during this time, taking the full brunt of your tasks and jokingly “threaten” you with a vengeance she will have if you dare to disobey her and do something hard.

All in all, she is a very awkward yet dedicated caretaker, becoming extra overprotective during your sickness.

Jean

Jean, to her dismay, can’t afford to spend much time with you with all of Mondstadt relying on her. Your dates are rare and short, yet she awaits them with a mix of excitement and anticipation, pushing herself further and further to complete more work, so nothing can possibly distract you two from your shared time.

She will get very upset once she sees you all red-eyed and coughing, immediately blaming herself for your declining health.

Prepare to be confined to your room and endlessly coddled, as Jean becomes a watchful, overprotective and stern shadow at your side.

She won’t stop working of course, preferring to take some documents with herself as she watches over you and your activities.

It will actually lead to her overworking again. You will have to beg her to take a break, both from caring for you and the Favonius business.

She will cave in, of course, assigning some of her duties to Kaeya and Lisa and asking Barbara to visit and check up on you, before taking a well-deserved day-off.

However, the anxiety of something going wrong will appear in Jean’s head on the first day, on the second one it will become so loud and haunting that she will break her promise to rest and come back both to you and unfinished papers, feeling ten times guiltier now.

Will oversee your recovery, while working. She will be so stressed out that she might catch sickness from you.

Now you will have to tend to her, a sudden turn that hard working yet incapable to work at the moment Jean will find a sudden pleasure in.

Lisa

Lisa is the best graduate of Sumeru academy for the last two centuries, so it’s no wonder that she quickly notices and identifies your sickness.

Despite the initial urge to heal you up, she will stumble, deciding to fully use this opportunity to her advantage.

The Librarian's mind contains multiple recipes of potions that can easily cure most of the illnesses, yours included, it also has a lot of knowledge of weak poisons - substances that don’t kill, but can worsen one’s ailments.

You won’t know better, accepting the potion that is said to quickly fix you up. The substance brings a quick relief - both sneezing and fear disappear, as your cough lightens.

It quickly changes however, as after three or for days of quick and obvious improvements, symptoms crush you with a renewed force. You don’t know the reason for it, yet you never blame Lisa or her potion.

Lisa will teasingly chide you for overworking yourself into the relapse, as she slips a tiniest bit of the poison into your treatment, so you stay weak and needy and so deliciously dependent on her.

This game however will soon bore Lisa - having you vulnerable around you is cute and good, yet caring for you takes both time and effort and Lisa likes you more when you’re more independent.

You will never learn why you had such an awful sickness, but you will be grateful to the witch, thanking her for all the medicine she provided you with.

Rosaria

During her time with bandits, Rosaria has never received proper care - everytime she got sick others would just laugh at her and force her to work, deaf and blind to her distress and suffering.

This habit, an attitude that was forced by others onto her, is still present to this day - the extravagant nun is less than interested in her own health, preferring to ignore the signs of the sickness - she can work with that, she always did.

Seeing you on the other hand all sick and weak emerges something in her - it just doesn’t sit right with her.

Rosaria knows that you won’t die - she had it worse and she’s fine, but the nagging feeling doesn’t disappear. A low level anxiety for your health will be a great nuisance in her eyes, as she continuously loses her sleep over several nights.

It all will end with the nun begrudgingly starting to care for you. Rosaria always thought that doing anything for others is bothersome and tiring, yet now cooking a light chicken soup and checking your temperature she can’t help but feel like something missing returns to her. Maybe she was meant to look after you.

She will never admit it though, unused to having anyone of importance in her life, so you will be stuck with an intimidating nun wordlessly spoon feeding you soups and medicine.

One of the nun’s duties is to tend to the sick, and so disciples are trained in basic medicine. Rosaria thinks about attending at least those lessons.

#Yandere Amber #Yandere Eula #Yandere Jean #Yandere Lisa #Yandere Rosaria #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin impact #Yandere Amber x reader #Yandere Jean x reader #Yandere Lisa x reader #Yandere Rosaria x reader #Yandere Eula x reader #female yandere #Yandere x reader #my writing

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itadorisgf · 3 years

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— a fall from grace

aka break up headcanons

⤷ anonymous asked: hi! what if u wrote angst headcanons on how megumi or itadori would react to breaking up with y/n? like what do u think would make them break up in the first place😳. anyways i hope u have a good rest of ur day!!💗💗

note: oooo angst, i hope i did your suggestion justice and that this was angsty enough!! i hope you have a lovely day as well <33333

ft. fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento, nobara kugisaki

warning: angst

⤷ main page

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

reason: bad at communicating

fushiguro has never been good at expressing his feelings.

he cares for you, he really does, but he’s always felt that it’s unneeded for him to show that.

you should just know that he does. if he didn’t love you then why would he be dating you?

if he didn’t want you then why would he bother to be in a relationship with you?

he doesn’t understand that it feels like he just doesn’t care about your relationship at times.

nor does he understand that sometimes you need reassurance that he does indeed care about you.

it’s hard when he’s not very affectionate and he tends to be short and dry when conversing.

and that’s just who fushiguro is. it’s a natural part of his personality to not exactly be open with his emotions and feelings.

so you break up with him. it’s not that you don’t love fushiguro, you do, but you can’t be in a relationship where you continuously question whether or not he actually wants to be with you.

fushiguro becomes more reserved and closed off following your break up.

his friends would playfully ask him why he’s being more emo than usual, but when fushiguro doesn’t respond at all, they understand that it’s serious.

he wonders if he was more expressive and open with how he felt about you, would you still be here?

GOJO SATORU

reason: too flippant

the fact that gojo’s deemed the most powerful shaman there is by others has made his ego grow exponentially.

he’s well aware of how many view him, as some sort of celebrity, and he revels in the praise and adoration that they shower him with.

gojo’s cheeky and will indulge those who admire him by playfully flirting back with them when they come onto him.

and when you bring up your concerns about how you’re not necessarily comfortable with how gojo interacts with his admirers, he brushes you off.

tells you that you’re the only one for him and that he doesn’t mean anything by flirting with them. it’s harmless.

and it may be true that they don’t matter to gojo, but the way he so easily sweeps your feelings to the side hurts.

you try one last time to explain how you feel to gojo, emphasizing that the way he disregards your worries upsets you.

and once again, gojo addresses the discussion in a very lighthearted and casual way that makes it feel like he’s downplaying how you feel.

when you break up with him, he thinks you’re joking. when you make it clear to gojo that you’re not joking and that you’re entirely serious, he just says okay and leaves.

he thinks you’re overreacting, and in need of some time to cool down. he assures himself that when he comes home later, you’ll be waiting for him.

but, you’re not. all your belongings are cleared from your shared apartment, and that’s when gojo realizes how much he’s utterly fucked up.

however, gojo is too prideful to admit that he’s messed up. he continues on like normal, flirting even more heavily with his fans, but he doesn’t care for any of them.

how could he when none of them are you?

ITADORI YUUJI

reason: too caring

itadori’s heart is simply too big.

you love that he’s so willing to help others and that he cares deeply for his friends, but you can’t stand the way that he holds little to no value for his own life.

he’s willing to throw himself head first into a fight in order to protect others.

itadori has a strong sense of duty as sukuna’s vessel. he knows that there are some things that only he can do as sukuna’s vessel that other sorcerers can’t, and who was he to turn his back on those in need when he could help them?

you try to convince him to care a little more about himself and itadori assures you he’ll be more cautious, but he continues to put himself in danger, often resulting in him getting injured.

and you love itadori too much to watch him throw his life away.

when you break up with him, itadori is confused. he thought things were going great between you two.

you tell him that you love him, but you can’t just sit and wonder if one day he isn’t going to come back from an exorcism.

you can’t stand seeing him bleeding and battered when he returns from missions.

you’ve already lost him once, you won’t be around to lose him again.

breaking up with itadori hurts both of you, but you have to do this. so you kiss him one last time, whispering an i love you against his lips and say goodbye.

itadori is heartbroken after you break up with him, but he tries to cover it up.

he’s still his regular cheery self, but it’s not as genuine.

fushiguro and nanami can tell that something’s off with him, but neither of them press itadori to tell them what’s wrong.

itadori is still in love you, but he has a duty to fulfill and he’ll see it through until the end.

NANAMI KENTO

reason: blunt

nanami doesn’t believe in sugar coating things or beating around the bush. he doesn’t see the point in it. he believes it’s important to be truthful and direct.

so he can be rather calloused and inconsiderate at times, even insensitive.

with his tone, he even sounds accusatory when you’ve done nothing wrong.

it’s humiliating. the way he lectures you as if you’re a child rather than an equal.

nanami’s tone is frightening, calm and even, but you can feel the anger radiating off of him. his words are cold as he berates you for needlessly putting your life at risk during a joint mission.

he goes so far as to say “you should have known that you were too weak to face that curse alone.”

and maybe it’s true, but you can’t stand the way that nanami talks down to you. it’s not the first time it’s happened either.

and you’ve had enough of it.

you break up with him and all nanami does is coolly reply that you’re acting irrationally and immaturely.

nanami’s frustrated that you’re unable to understand how he’s concerned for your well-being. you shouldn’t have attempted to face a cursed being of that level by yourself and you could’ve easily gotten yourself killed.

the aftermath of your breakup is messy.

you’re both sorcerers, but you avoid nanami to the best of your ability, partnering up with others for assigned missions.

on the outside, nanami seems to be completely unaffected by the breakup.

but behind his goggles, his eyes are more tired than usual and his patience with gojo has thinned even more so, causing him to easily snap at the man.

nanami doesn’t mind overtime as much as he once did.

he loathes how a quiet apartment is the only thing waiting for him when he gets off of work.

so he picks up more missions just to avoid the loneliness that awaits him.

NOBARA KUGISAKI

reason: impulsive

nobara often speaks without thinking beforehand.

she tends to say whatever comes to her mind, sometimes disregarding how others may feel.

you love the way that she speaks her mind, bold and totally unafraid of whoever she’s talking to. in fact, you even admire it.

but when you get into fights, nobara doesn’t hold back. she says anything and everything that comes to mind.

most of the stuff she says, she doesn’t mean. she just gets so frustrated and worked up that it just all comes spewing out in the heat of the moment.

but her thoughtlessness cuts deep and opens wounds you’ve worked hard to heal.

it’s during one of your fights that nobara lets it slip “god why am i even dating you?”

all the fight is drained out of you once you hear that. you don’t want to argue with her anymore so you tell her that she doesn’t need to worry about this relationship anymore because it’s over now, and walk out.

nobara’s reaction time is delayed, sputtering as she processes what you’ve said.

when she gathers her bearings and runs out the door, you’re already gone.

nobara would talk about your breakup with whoever’s around to listen. she neglects to mention that you’re the one to have broken up with her and rants about all of your flaws and why you weren’t a good s/o.

but when nobara’s alone, she misses you terribly and wishes that she could take back what she said.

as she lies in bed, she replays all of the things she spat at you in fits of anger.

she didn’t mean any of it.

she loved you, and still does.

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seance · 3 years

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jatp as bodies of water

a character analysis based on this gifset.

first of all, a disclaimer: this was just me and @snakebitescar having fun , we perfectly know this is still a kid show and it’s not that deep™ but i, personally, find this type of speculations really interesting. kinda all or nothing, you know? i don’t usually dwell on more superficial hcs because i’m drawn to this kind of symbolism the most. that said we just thought we share, no pressure to rb or anything. i apologize for the small text but this got long i don’t want to spam anyone’s dash too much.

luke as the ocean

I purposefully chose to use not just any view of the ocean, but a glimpse of a stormy one. What makes it so fitting in my eyes is that the ocean, by its nature, is limitless and unknowable but it’s not deceiving in any way. It’s powerful and overpowering but it appears as it is: vast and full of hidden depths.

Luke’s greatest strength is his energy, his uncompromising passion, his determination, his willingness to risk it all for what he believes in and for the people he loves. He needs to always be in motion, he needs to know he’s moving forward, towards something greater, something that will make every sacrifice and every loss worth it. Behind every gesture, every word, every action there’s something more, something deeper (like a wound that never really closed, an unfathomable regret, a simmering anger sparked by the betrayal of a friend).

He doesn’t really hide who he is or what he thinks but he will always, like the ocean, keep surprising those around him with new aspects of his exuberance, his creativity, his sociability. Just like the ocean, bound by no borders, Luke is free to be everything at once.

reggie as the lake

The lake can be peaceful and embracing or brooding and stagnant. It’s the only body of water that doesn’t flow somewhere, it appears motionless on the surface but in reality it hides dangerous underwater currents, unpredictable whirlpools and often deadly murky terrains.

Lakes represent the need for security, they are places of painful transformations, both cradle and trap. Basing some of our assumption on Luke’s words about Reggie’s less than ideal home-life, the parallel between the lake’s dual nature and how he expresses (or rather suppresses) his emotions came naturally. One of the main differences between Reggie and everyone else is that he’s never confrontational. He always works towards de-escalating the situation, he’s probably used to conceal any negative emotion to not add fuel to the fire, he tends to always follow and never lead.

This doesn’t mean he feels less than everybody else, every now and then those very emotions he tries so hard to control shine through and we see how actually scared he is, how he craves stability and security. He dreads any changes that have to do with the unknown or the possibility of his support system failing (“Do we all still get to hang out together?”) Just like the lake he’s both still and turbulent, constantly edging between relying on what is safe or taking the odd risk.

alex as the river

Alex was maybe the most complex to analyze out of the four of them. I’m a firm believer that anyone is entitled to their own headcanons and their own interpretation of a character but I must admit, I can’t really get behind some fandom takes that systematically reduce Reggie to his goofy side or Alex to his anxiety because as I see it, they both hold so much potential.

Rivers are an indomitable force. They flow for miles, from mountain to sea, sometimes dwindling but never drying up completely. They dig their way forward and they endure. Rivers are symbols of sensitivity and empathy but they can also be forceful and overflowing, almost too much to bear all at once.

Alex is highly emotional, for better or worse that’s what makes him such an interesting character. He’s not just his anxiety but he’s always straightforward about his emotions and his thoughts. Unlike Reggie we often see him question Luke’s opinion, he doesn’t shy away from commenting on the current situation, if he’s feeling anxious or happy or sad or angry he’s open about it, he wants the others to know.

Alex had to hide a big part of his identity for we don’t know how long and that surely played its part in worsening his fears but what we do know is that he had the courage to come out and live his truth, despite the negative outcome. When he decides to do something he pours all of himself into it, he’s proactive, he’s honest (sometimes too honest), he’s afraid of change but still faces it head first.

Just like a river plunges through deep ravines and spreads out over wide planes, he can act as a leading force if needed, making others see things from a different perspective (him talking to Julie about the Patterson, for example). He’s captivating and intense, Willie fell for him deep and fast and vice versa. Alex immediately offered the truest form of himself (his interest and his awkwardness and his anxiety) with no compromise. That’s part of the reason Willie’s betrayal stung so much I believe (“I thought we were having fun together” meaning Alex never thought of acting any differently from who he really is, what he was putting on the table was his raw and flawed self and Willie’s hesitation felt like a rejection).

Just like the river, Alex is committed and open about where he comes from and where he’s going.

julie as the waterfall

While every other body of water is somehow linked to the imaginary of life and death (the ocean gave us life but it can take it back just as easily, the river mythologically represents the boundaries between the two worlds, lakes are the dwelling places of monsters or other insidious creatures) waterfalls are usually seen as magical elements. They’re young, fresh, unafraid and most importantly, alive. They represent the calling for adventure, the restlessness that comes from wanting to always try new things, to explore your own potential.

Julie, above all, is her own character. All her relationships are deeply meaningful but they just add to an already strong identity. She’s energetic and she’s resourceful and she’s strong in the truest sense of the term because she isn’t afraid to hurt or to admit her limits (“I tried for mom, for you, even for me. I’m tired”). Julie is the main engine of the entire narrative because she represents, quite literally, the life force of the band. She doesn’t just go along with their wishes, she finds a balance with the boys and she isn’t afraid to call it quits when her trust is betrayed, she’s their equal in all things and she inspires respect.

Just like the waterfall rushes down perilously from any height, Julie launches herself in the new possibilities the band has to offer, she claws her way out of her grief and she gets involved without sparing herself. She’s eager, she’s passionate and she’s creative and she always has a new input to offer.

#ari.txt #text #julie and the phantoms #i really need a tag for this kind of rambling #oh well #always feeling Too Much for fictional characters in this chili's tonight

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irresistiibles · 2 years

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was that suzu hirose? Oh no no, that was just chihiro ogino, a canon character from spirited away. they are twenty one years old and are aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here

about a week or two.

what is your character’s job

she works the graveyard shift at a hotel, basically providing room service to crazy customers who want stuff at two in the morning. it is probably not great for her sanity but it’s similar to stuff she’s done before, so it makes her a little more comfortable.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

right towards the end like after getting the confirmation that none of the pigs were her parents but not before she reunited with them. this has freaked chihiro out as she isn’t sure what happened and how she wound up here. is she in another spirit world? is this a trick so that she’ll grow complacent and forget to go back for her parents? she isn’t sure but she doesn’t really trust washington.

has any magic affected your character

nope!

any other info!

spirited away is like one of the first movies just in general i can remember watching, and though chihiro’s parents turning into pigs scared me for life it is also just one of my favorite movies like ever. the vibes are just actually perfect.

anyway chihiro is here for cowards’ rights! crybaby rights! being cool and brave and afraid of nothing is no longer cool. we are actually into being terrified and sad but doing what you have to do anyway. she’s come a decent way since she first showed up in the spirit world, but it hasn’t suddenly made her completely unafraid, or not a bit of a brat sometimes, though she is more grounded. she’s not having the best time in washington. it’s cool sure, but she’s nervous and homesick, and wants to know that her family is okay. some days she can distract herself with sightseeing and other days she just winds up trying to find somewhere quiet to cry.

big little sister energy despite being an only child. she tends to ask for help and will think anyone is cool for managing the smallest of things. she is also simultaneously way too chill and grounded with things that should probably make her nervous. looks at someone like no-face and decides that is absolutely friend shaped. even yubaba eventually became granny. probably could also stand to think things through more. girl got on a train with no way tog et back and was like ‘eh it’s fine i’ll walk along the train tracks a whole six stops and day worth of travel by train if i have to.’ or ‘ah yes, forcing this dragon with giant teeth to eat this medication is totally fine i will not get hurt how could you even think that?’ like please someone make her consider what she’s doing before she does it. so she oscillates between scared and freaking out or way too chill in situations that absolutely justify freaking out, it just really depends on the day.

though she’s scared being here she likes to do her best to help people around her and stay busy. it keeps her moving even as she continues to have no success figuring out how to get out of here. look she is a baby but she also has a good heart and does her best.

plot ideas:

a roommate. she works weird hours but is good at cleaning so overall she’s pretty good to live with .she doesn’t like feeling alone and is used to sharing a living space with way more people so she could def use someone

weird hour vibes. anyone to hang out with her late before her shift starts or super early when it ends.

someone to listen to her. she is worried, like i said, that this is all some trap to make her forget about her parents, and some days she finds herself slipping back into using the name sen, and thinking this is just her life now, which freaks her out. on those days she probably likes to talk about the bath house and no face, haku, her parents, whatever, just to not allow this to slip into normalcy

any friends in general. like i said she doesn’t like feeling alone so any casual friendships would be great. maybe some sort of quiet friendship since she tends to be good with people who are cold or closed off and isn’t bothered by that sort of behavior.

some sort of mentor/someone to give her guidance. girls just has a knack at finding people to help her and lead her on the right path so i’m sure she’ll find someoe here too lol.

#this is kinda beefy lmao whoops #hw: intro #( intro && chihiro )#gonna try to start tagging intros

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closetfanfictionauthor · 3 years

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a university au in which genya is a fashion major and david is an engineering student and neither of them are brave enough to admit their feelings to each other but it works out in the end anyway.

(i was working on another story but i just finished re-reading the series and then i binged the show and it was just CALLING to me. this was meant to be like 2k words but it quite got away from me)

this is also on ao3

She meets David when she's looking for a table in the university library to complete a paper on fashion history and he is the only one with an available seat. And because she's Genya and beautiful and unafraid to approach anyone, she asks him if he wouldn't mind sharing the table with her.

David gives her a very distracted yes and she flashes him one of her smiles that's sent men stammering before gracefully sliding into the seat.

What she doesn't know is that a glimpse of her was enough to send David's heart into rapid palpitations and his palms immediately begin to sweat. But he's got to stay focused on his problem set because he fears if he looks at her head-on he might actually have a heart attack right where he sits.

And wouldn't that just be embarrassing.

She expects him to ogle at her like men usually do, but from where she's sitting he looks focused on his own problems, a slight wrinkle in his forehead as he glares at his laptop screen and huffs in irritation. But they sit in silence for three hours and David never looks her way. On the rare occasion he can drag his attention away from his screen long enough to notice she's even there, it feels as if he's looking right through her.

And she should feel relieved. Comfortable. Because he's not doing anything to make her feel uncomfortable. It should be nice.

And she's beyond irritated. Genya can't decide if it's because her ego is really that big that it takes offense to the first man who doesn't notice her or if it's because she finds him so attractive it makes her want to burst out of her skin and he's making it very obvious that he's not interested in her.

She doesn't know which one is worse.

He leaves without a word and she has to sit there and force herself to act like she doesn't notice the vacant seat across from her or why, for some reason, she feels so lonely.

Afterwards, Genya begins to notice David all around campus in ways she didn't before. And every time he's always alone, rarely is he surrounded by anyone she could assume is his friend. David never acknowledges her, never says hi, and she likewise pretends she never sees him.

But one day Genya is studying in the library again. At this point she's developed a sixth sense when it comes to David and the second he steps foot into the library, she knows. Her muscles tense and something in Genya's gut is telling her David is here and to look for him.

She forces herself to relax and shrug it off but only a few moments later, a shadow falls over her and she blinks up in confusion. David stands there, fidgeting from foot to foot, his hands traveling from the hem of his crewneck to his hair to the nape of his neck. He looks so uncomfortable and awkward it's endearing and she's tempted between saving him the anxiety and saying something and letting him stew in the feeling.

"Is it alright if I sit with you. Library's full," he mutters quietly, eyes darting around to the others sitting nearby. Genya forces the corners of her mouth not to twitch upwards like they so desperately want to and calmly nods before turning back to her work. Today she's working on sketching some designs for class.

David shrugs out of his bag and pulls out the chair across from her, all the while avoiding eye contact. Genya looks back at her sketch and picks up another colouring pencil. The whole time she pretends like there isn't an available table three tables over, or another one less than five metres behind David. The library is certainly full but it's not that full.

He could sit somewhere else but he chooses to sit with her and that makes her sit up a little straighter.

After about the second hour of working in silence, David starts to fidget. It's like he's working up the courage to do something but can't quite bring himself to do it. Genya can see him shift in his seat but pretends she doesn't notice. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, slouches in his seat before straightening up again. David opens his textbook, stares at the page blankly and then closes it again and turns back to his laptop.

There's a burning need in Genya to ask what he wants, the question is on the tip of her tongue but something about David tells her if she asks he'll shut down.

Finally David clears his throat and when Genya looks at him, he points to one of her sketches and says in a grave tone usually reserved for imparting condolences, "I really like this one, I'm not one for colours or anything but I like the yellow and brown."

It's the most he's ever said...well...ever.

"Thank you, that one's my favourite too," Genya replies warmly, a smile spreading across her face. In truth it wasn't her favourite creation but it was David's favourite and now it was hers.

She thinks that's all he's going to say and turns back to her drawing but David has mustered all his courage and he seems determined to have out with it and asks her, "What are you making these for?"

"It's for my Fashion Design class. I'm a fashion major," Genya says and blushes a pretty pink at the statement. There's nothing wrong with fashion. People wear clothes. They like looking nice. Genya wants to be a part of that process and yet she can't help feeling silly telling people she studies fashion. But David doesn't look at her as if it's stupid or as if she's dumb, an intent look on his face as he gives her all his attention.

"Do you...do you like fashion design? Is it one of your favourite classes?" he asks her awkwardly. She wants to giggle at the way he looks at her as if she's about to impart the meaning of life to him. But Genya stops herself, because David is making an effort. And she doesn't know this man but she's pieced together enough to know that socializing doesn't come easy to David. Knows enough that underneath that quiet almost stern demeanor his heart is probably pounding from making small talk and she won't be the one to hurt his feelings or discourage his attempt.

She just wishes his shyness didn't make her go soft as pudding inside.

"I love it a lot actually. My favourite aspect is that you get to be creative with whatever you want to design, there's no limit and you don't have to worry that anything will be too outlandish because it's just a sketch and you're not actually wasting any fabric on it. They really push you to your limits on this class, always encouraging us to push the boundaries of style and creativity. It doesn't matter how crazy it is just so we can get used to-" Genya stopped abruptly and feels heat spreading across her face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that."

"Why are you apologizing?" David asks, frowning in his confusion.

"I got carried away, I'm sure you were looking for a shorter answer," Genya replies. She might as well have told him she's been told to shut up by other people before for talking too much about her passion.

"If I didn't want to hear your thoughts, then I wouldn't have asked," David says matter-of-factly. He sits patiently, looking at her expectantly. She blinks at him and then continues, stuttering at first and then becoming more confident as David continues to gaze at her, riveted. He doesn't interrupt her as she gushes about her sketches, her ideas, the specifics of fabrics and stitching, even going so far as to ask follow up questions.

What's her favourite fabric to work with, is there a designer she's particularly fond of, what kind of film she thinks has the best costumes? And the questions go on.

"I don't really know what I wanna do after, maybe work for a designer, maybe go into costume design for Hollywood," Genya says, finally going quiet.

"I think you'd be a great costume designer," David says with all sincerity and gives her a wide smile. And saints, that smile. It completely changes his face and does things to her insides that she can't voice.

"You think?" she asks and immediately wants to kick herself. What was that breathy voice that just came out of her.

"Yeah, some of these are so creative and different, I think it would serve you well on a set," David says as he picks up some of her sketches and looks through the drawings.

"Thank you," Genya replies timidly. She's about to ask about David but he gives her one more smile before turning his attention back to his work, the conversation over. She wants to interrupt him and learn all about him but she doesn't want to interrupt him.

They leave the library at the same time, walking side by side without saying anything. Genya can't stop herself from glancing at him every few seconds from the corner of her eye. David on the other hand looks deep in thought, like he isn't walking next to her at all. She desperately wants to see him again, wants to reach out and touch his hand but she thinks about it so long her nerves get the better of her and never does a thing about it.

"See you next time," David says at the exit, and then turns around and leaves without waiting for a response.

"We...will?" Genya asks the thin hair because David is gone before she has even comprehended what he's said.

She spends the rest of her day in a daze and then the following days afterward she asks herself if the whole incident in the library actually happened. But then she sees David in the hallway and he nods in her direction and she flushes like she's a girl of fifteen all over again. And then he begins to smile in her direction and Genya becomes so flustered she finds herself walking into pillars and water fountains on multiple occasions.

Genya sees David at least a dozen times a day, more than she has ever seen him before. Part of her wonders if he passes by the places that he's figured out she's going to be in most often. The library becomes their meeting spot. Genya spends as much time there as possible in the hopes that David will show up to see her. It comes to the point where her friend starts to complain that they never see her because she's constantly studying.

"Why are you even in the library this often, you're a fashion major," Alina whines one day when Genya announces she's off to the library.

"Fashion majors need to read," Genya replies defensively. She's shoving books into her bag when Alina reaches over and grabs the opening to stop her.

"Of course fashion majors need to read but you spend every waking second in the library, not even the history students are in there that often," Alina points out. "Is there something you're not telling me about?"

"No," Genya replies too quickly and now she sounds even guiltier. Alina has a knowing look in her eyes.

"There is someone, isn't there," Alina pounces, a gleam in her eye. She leans forward, arms crossed on the table between the two friends.

"There isn't anyone, I just really enjoy the...atmosphere," Genya says. The excuse sounds lame even to her own ears but it's the only thing she can say. What else is there to enjoy about the library.

"Genya you're the most outgoing person I know, sitting quietly in a library for hours on end is the very last thing you'd do. I can't even get you to go to a bookstore with me," Alina scoffs. Genya might have been able to get away with her evasiveness if David hadn't passed by at that very moment.

Her face lights up in happiness at the sight of him, a smile overtaking her face before she's even registering her response to him.

David smiles in return and nods his head and says, "Hey," in passing.

"Hi," she quietly breaths back but he's gone before he can hear it. Genya's gaze immediately snaps back to Alina and her friend looks back at her, smug.

"Oh I see," she says, the picture of ease, slouched low in her chair, legs spread out before her. Genya scowls back at her.

"Not a word," she snaps back mortified.

"No, no, what is there to say," Alina replies nonchalantly. "I just never mistook you for someone to go for the whole quiet nerd vibe."

"David is lovely," Genya says defensively.

"I never said he wasn't, I just said he was nerdy."

A beat of silence.

"Do you know anything about him?" Genya finally asks grudgingly.

"I'm the last person you should be asking," Alina says with a snort. "Mal would probably know more though."

"Oh yes, Mal, your little friend, and how is Mal, your friend, doing?" Genya asks, widening her eyes innocently. Alina blanches, her face going white.

"You know what, maybe you should go to the library, go there as often as you want. We're really not that close," she says. Genya lets out a cackle and wiggles her fingers goodbye before setting off.

***

"So why did you pick engineering?" Genya asks him one day. They've finally progressed to getting coffee together instead of sitting in the library all the time. The social setting makes her more comfortable but she can see the way David's shoulders are tense and he shifts in his chair restlessly.

"I like making things with my hands. Seeing a bunch of pieces and putting them together, like a puzzle," he says. "And you know, machines aren't complicated."

Genya blinks at him.

"I mean, they're not complicated in the way that people are complicated," he amends. "I've never really liked big groups of people or parties, they're so noisy, you can't hear anyone, no one can finish a sentence without being interrupted, so I just keep to myself. It's easier that way."

"But don't you get lonely?"

David turns his head towards the sun streaming in and thinks for a moment. Genya can't help but be distracted by the way the sun turns his hair brown or admire the angle of his jaw, or his nose, or his full lips. Especially his lips. What a shame they're not attached to her. Or her neck, moving down towards her ...

David. Talking. Genya blinks rapidly and pushes the thoughts of David's mouth on her neck (among other places) away to focus on what he's saying.

"Not lately. But I like spending time on my own, I don't have to worry about talking all of the time or thinking about something interesting to say. There's no pressure to be entertaining."

And while Genya hears the rest, her mind is stuck on the not lately part. She's pretty sure he means since meeting her but she's too shy to ask even though she knows David wouldn't think it embarrassing.

"And people are always saying things they don't mean," he goes on frowning. "I can never understand how dating is supposed to work. My brothers try to explain it to me but it sounds like a lot of saying what you don't mean and expecting someone to figure out what you're not saying. You can't do certain things because it makes you look needy or too eager, which makes no sense to me because wouldn't you want the person you like to know you like them?"

This is the most he's ever said to Genya she's pretty sure. Her heart leaps at the idea that he's comfortable enough around her to say these things. Her heart leaps at the way his arms looked crossed in front of him the way that they do in that snug shirt.

"That's true, it's one of the nice things about you though," she replies and when he looks at her in confusion she adds, "I can just say what I mean and what I want and you won't think I'm weird for it."

She swears she sees his cheeks turn the barest shade of pink although his brown skin hides it well.

"I think you have class, I'll walk with you," he says, clearing his throat and the two of them leave the shop together. He does that a lot lately, walking her to class that is. Genya has taken to walking him to his. She definitely doesn't stand outside the room watching his butt as he walks away from her.

Neither of them feels the need to comment on anything as they walk side by side towards the arts building.

They're at the door of her classroom, and David is in the middle of saying goodbye, when one of Genya's classmates shoves David's shoulder to get past them. The man looks Genya up and down and shoots her a wink before disappearing into the room.

Genya turns to David about to apologize when she sees the scowl he sends towards her classmate. It's the first time she's ever seen David anything other than neutral and serene and the fact that it's on her behalf makes her giddy.

"Who's that?" David asks. Genya has never been gladder of his earnest manner more than this moment. It's gratifying to hear the note of jealousy because it means she's not the only one at odds and ends in this budding friendship they have. She shouldn't like it but she does. Alina would have her head if she heard such nonsense.

"Oh just some classmate," she says with a shrug. "He does this all the time. He's quite harmless."

At least she thinks, although the man in question is a little too persistent for her tastes but surely he can only mean the flirting as a joke.

"I have to go," David says abruptly and marches off in a determined manner, leaving Genya behind wondering what's just happened.

She hopes he's not mad at her and agonizes over his behaviour the whole class, completely missing the topic at hand. When she eventually leaves, she's so miserably anxious she doesn't know what to do with herself. Genya is about to call Alina and beg her for advice but never gets the chance to decide because David is standing outside the door.

He thrusts a large bouquet of flowers at her before Genya has a chance to say anything and instinctively she reaches out to take them so they don't fall on the ground.

"For you," David says without ceremony. Genya blinks in bewilderment at him and looks between the flowers and his solemn face.

"Ah….thank you, these are beautiful," Genya says. She's sincere about the compliment but her brain is still playing catch up with her and can't quite get past the beautiful flowers and that David got them for her.

"They're red amaryllis," David offers and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It reminds me of your hair."

She can feel tears gathering in her eyes because this is the sweetest thing anyone has done for her and she's not quite sure what she's done to deserve this man. David notices the watering eyes and his brows furrow in alarm.

"I'm sorry if you don't like them. I didn't mean to make you cry, I'll take them back," he says miserably, reaching for them. Genya moves them out of his reach.

"These are happy tears, don't you dare take these away from me. No take backs," Genya says, clutching the flowers to her chest. David relaxes and sends her one of his disarming smiles.

The gestures continue. David brings her coffee, or snacks. Sometimes he'll even hand over his own food because he sees her looking at it just a little too long in the library. Genya buys him lunch or dinner. She seeks him out in the library if she knows he's been hard at work studying and reminds him to go home. She tells him tidbits and facts that she thinks he might like. She gives him her hat if he says he's cold, and he gives her his gloves because he knows her hands are always cold.

Genya brings him little oddities she finds when she's out shopping, and David gives her books on the collections of famous fashion houses. He invites her over to his house and she bakes cookies with his mom and makes plans for a shopping trip with his sister. David agrees to meet Alina and Mal and immediately he and Mal become the best of friends.

Now when Genya arrives in the library before him, he chooses to sit next to her instead of across the table. Sometimes he throws his arm across the back of her chair casually. Sometimes the hand of that arm will unconsciously trace patterns up and down the side of Genya's arm.

Genya doesn't know how to ask him to go on a date even though they're doing things that couples do, but it seems the universe wants the two of them together even more than she does.

It happens when she's on the way to the library one evening to meet up with David. They're planning on studying together, he needs help with an English paper due in a few days, and Genya wants to spend time with him. The fact that she's not that good at writing English papers is not important.

The sun is starting to set, and she's been trying to shake off the man who shoved into David that one day but he's either not getting the hint or he's choosing to ignore them. She tries to make excuses to leave so they'll go their separate ways, but he conveniently also has nowhere to be. Genya gives curt responses and purposely makes it seem as if she's not paying attention to what he's saying. She gives dry responses to his flirtations in the hopes to deter him. When he stands too close, she very obviously puts space between them.

And now he's following her to the library and Genya is praying he leaves her alone because she's got a sneaking suspicion he's going to wait around until she leaves the library and then follow her home.

Eventually he gets to the point and asks for a date.

"You're very lovely," Genya lies through her teeth. Her smile is more of a grimace at this point. "But I'm not all that interested."

"Come on, just one date," he says, taking a step toward her. Genya takes a step back. His tone is light but she's on her guard and she knows how quickly that good humour can turn sour.

"No thank you," she insists. When he opens his mouth to say something else, she blurts out, "I have a boyfriend, his name is David. I'm on the way to see him at the library."

She doesn't know why she says it, it's the only thing she can think of, the only thing that's always worked in the past a hundred percent of the time. And as if she's summoned him herself, David appears as if from nowhere. Her knight in….well not exactly shining armour but in his favourite crewneck at least.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long, sweetheart," David's voice says. He rounds the corner, his mouth set in a grim line as he stares down the man cornering Genya. The endearment sounds a little stilted coming from him, but the natural way he puts his arm around Genya's waist and leans in to kiss her cheek makes up for it.

She feels the tension leak out of her at the contact. David is here and she's not alone, she's safe and he'll take care of this. She leans into his side, absorbing the warmth coming from him and puts her head on his shoulder.

"Hello darling, I was just picking up dinner for you," she replies as lovingly as possible. She looks up at him like he's her hero (she doesn't even have to pretend) and burrows into his side even more.

"How thoughtful of you," David replies warmly. He leans down and gives her a long, sweet kiss that sends her knees quaking. Her classmate thoroughly forgotten, David steers the two of them away from the man and they continue on to the library. Once they're far enough away, Genya lets out a long sigh.

"Thank the saints you showed up, I didn't know what I was going to do about him," Genya says. David rubs his hand up and down her back as the two of them walk.

"The nerve of him to ask out my girlfriend," David huffs. Genya drags the two of them to a halt and stares at David unblinking.

"Your what?" she asks, thinking she's misheard.

"My girlfriend," David repeats, a little slower this time as if she's hard of hearing.

"Since when am I your girlfriend?" Genya asks because she's fairly certain she would've remembered something that monumental. But no, she's certain he never asked.

"Since I brought you flowers after class?" David asks as if he's beginning to doubt himself. "I mean what have we been doing if not dating?"

"David you never asked me to be your girlfriend," Genya insists. Not that she minds the presumption but there are rules to these things.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to, I thought it was obvious. Of course you're my girlfriend, why else would I bring you home to my mom," David says, head tilted to the side. He's looking at her as if she's recently had a brain injury.

Genya's mouth has dropped open as she processes this new development. She doesn't know whether to whoop in elation or burst into song or start dancing or leap onto David right now and ravish him.

"David, you were supposed to ask," she insists and suddenly the whole ordeal is hilarious. Genya's biting her lip to stop from laughing but her shoulders are starting to shake from holding it in. It's all just so ridiculous.

Here she was agonizing over whether he wanted her and the whole time David already thought they were dating.

"Oh, do you not want to be my girlfriend then?" he asks, worry creeping into his tone. He deflates and the look of dejection on his face makes Genya want to shower him with kisses to make it go away.

"No, that's not what I meant. I- never mind, we're dating, I'm your girlfriend," Genya says with a roll of her eyes.

"But you just said-"

She cuts David off by wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands digging into his hair, and pulls his lips down to hers for a proper kiss.

"Forget what I said, okay," she says breathlessly. "You were right we've definitely been dating this whole time."

"Yes ma'am," he agrees in bewilderment. "You know we should be doing a lot more kissing since we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

Genya can't help but beam at him. "I completely agree. More kissing. Lots more kissing. In fact, I propose we go back to my room and play catch up. We've got a lot of kissing to make up for."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #siege and storm #ruin and rising #fanfiction #genya/david #genya safin/david kostyk #fluff #romance #pining #writing #genya fluff #happy ending

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beelzebaes · 4 years

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Lessons learned.

Obey Me! Shall We Date oneshot; Pairing: Beelzebub + (f)MC Warnings: None Genre: fluff, introspective, self indulgent The first time he sees her, Beel crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. Humans are small, fragile, breakable. He takes a hasty glance at his brothers and that’s really all it takes for him to know they feel the same way: a reign of demons, cold and sunless, was no place for a mortal. Even so, she doesn’t flinch at the sight of him. She stubbornly stands her ground, stiff yet proud, and slowly extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, and Beel almost laughs. He half-expects her to cower, to somehow will herself into shrinking down the second his hand grips hers, but she doesn’t. She smiles instead, teeth showing and everything, and it istantly reminds Beel of biblical miracles. He smiles back. That’s the first lesson he ever learns: strenght isn’t a demonic exclusive. Humans, he’ll soon find out, are way more resilient than he gave them credit for.

“Listen, I don’t mean to shame you, but this is just excessive,” she notes, ungraciously plopping down on his couch. She clicks her tongue eloquenty, pointing to the mountain of chocolate bars resting on it. Beel snorts at her signature lack of elegance, but chooses not to comment on it. “I am the Avatar of Gluttony, you know.“ He absent-mindedly throws one of the sweets in her direction, too busy unpacking his own to pay any mind to the strenght he put in the gesture. A loud thud forces him to peel his focused glance away from the precious bar and look at his companion, who appears to be utterly unimpressed despite a hand pressed against her heart. “Beel, you threw it all the way across the room!” she whines then, standing up to retrieve her chocolate. “No wonder people aren’t big on demons.” “Aren’t they now?”, Beel retorts. He puts a hand on her shoulder and nods to the couch. “Sit, I’ll get it,” he says apologetically. “Sorry.” He strides towards the bar, stretching a bit in the process. “You know, Beel– ” “Hm? What?” Beel picks up the chocolate bar, but doesn’t turn immediately. He senses something in her tone, a feeling he experienced before. He knows what she’s about to say, feels it coming with a certainty that he rarely ever knew before. A lot changed since she arrived, though. Beel’s never been one for surety, for definitive answers – if anything, he used to be costantly torn apart by doubts. Admittedly, he didn’t have it easy, even considering demonic standards. He doesn’t really like thinking about it, nor he enjoys being reminded of it: Beel remembers all of it vividly, thank you very much. The exctruciating pain of losing a sibling, of being impossibly fast and strong, just not quite enough. Of course, how could one forget the tragedy of not being allowed to repent, his sin being plainly dismissed by everyone around him? No atonement meant no forgiveness, no forgiveness meant eternal torment. That, added to the loss of his home, of his very essence, utterly and royally fucked him up. What level of certainty could he ever hope to achieve? The mere thought used to be ludicrous to him, just as blasphemous as his own existence. Because, honestly, how else could anyone describe it? After his halo twisted into horrifying horns, how could anyone welcome such change? No, nothing made sense anymore. Until she stumbled right into his life, that is. As of now, pain isn’t the only thing he can remember. Beel thinks about it with embarassing frequency: he pictures a small human standing in front of him, arms stretched impossibly wide, small and unafraid, shielding him from what would’ve been certain death had Diavolo not intervened then and there. He muses back to the comfort washing over his body the second she took his hands in hers, nodding and smiling, ecstatic at the idea of a pact binding them together forever. She shined brightly then, open and honest, and it almost made him want to cry. The Devildom had no sun, no summer to speak of, but that was the warmest he ever felt. He learned a lot, these past few months. About her, about himself. It’s to be expected, she explained once. When you spend all your days by someone’s side, well, how can you not? Beel didn’t quite know how to respond then, but he understood eventually. He got to know her better than anyone, and she knows everything about him just as well. It’s almost odd really, considering the nature of their relationship, mortal human and immortal demon. But Beel treasures her more than anything else, more than life itself. She’s his light, his anchor, and he’s completely and absolutely hers. She’s the one thing he’s sure of. It clearly comes as no surprise that, the moment she opens her mouth, Beel just feels it. That tinge of worry in her tone, the way she suddenly pauses before clumsily trying to finish the sentence… he’s seen her stammer like that, and it’s never ended well before. He doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s staring down at her feet. He bites his lip and waits. “Sometimes I just forget,” she continues, faltering yet determined. “That you’re a demon, that is.” “Did my chocolate throwing skills remind you?” Beel answers. It comes way too quickly, and he’s still not turning to face her. He’s deflecting, they both know he is. “I’m sorry,” Beel offers again, “I wasn’t paying attention.” It pisses him off, the way he can’t do anything but apologize. It’s infuriating. Then again, what’s he supposed to say? Why yes, yes indeed, I am a demon and the very fact you’re alive right now is a miracle even I can’t explain. “It’s okay, I actually found it funny.” Her reply, the way she whispers it… all of it makes Beel want to scream. “You do realize I am… a lot stronger than you, right? I could kill you in two seconds,” he deadpans. “You should work on that survival istinct of yours. Geez, I’m hungry–” “You wouldn’t.” Beel turns to her then, spins on his heels unnecessarily fast, and opens his mouth to reply, to say something. Nothing comes out. He pinches the bridge of his nose instead, desperately trying to find the words to convey just how frustrated their exchange is making him. “Of course I wouldn’t. I won’t,” he manages. But you still need to be careful, because if anything happened to you– “I’m not worried about getting hurt. I’m not scared of you guys. Of you. You know I trust you with my life.” She’s standing up now, and Beel silently prays to any divinity out there she doesn’t come any closer. She does. Of course she does. She’s never been a fan of caution, after all. “I just think… I wish I was a demon, too. Or, you know, an angel. Something more than,” she points to her chest, smiling weakly, “this.” Everything unfolds so quickly then, it almost doesn’t feel real. Beel doesn’t quite remember his legs moving, closing the gap between them in a couple of hasty strides. He can’t recall his hands stretching outwards to hold her shoulders, as gently as he possibly can given the circumstances. He’s vaguely aware of her eyes growing wider and wider with wonder, his hug inevitably lifting her way above the floor, her arms struggling to envelop his huge back while she clings to his shirt with what he imagines is all the strenght she can conjure, but that’s all he manages to focus on. He has to tell her. He has to make absolutely sure she knows. “I wouldn’t change you for the world,” he says finally, and it’s barely audible, but it reaches her. She hears him loud and clear, as she always does, and cries. “But when I leave– ” “Then stay.” He’s never really said it before. He thought about it, obviously, but he never really expressed it like that. As unnatural as it is for a demon, Beel feels all too vulnerable, naked almost, but it’s out. Might as well roll with it, he concludes. Beel takes a step back, his hands still on her tiny shoulders, and exhales loudly. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until then. She’s standing there, stiff as a board, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Beel expects her to protest, and for a second he’s completely sure she will. And yet, she says nothing. A rare occurrence, really. “I know this place isn’t what you’re used to. I know there’s no proper spring, no actual summer, and I know you hate the food most of the times, I know you miss the sun, but I’ll try my hardest to make sure you’re always comfortable, and I– ” I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. “What are you talking about?” she suddenly cuts in, her hands trembling. She removes them from his back and wipes her eyes, only to place them right against his chest. Her eyes meet his, and Beel has to make a conscious effort not to look away. “The sun’s right here.” She smiles through her tears, and thanks to some sort of otherwordly miracle, it’s her usual smile. Teeth showing and all. That’s when Beel understands. He’s already figured out how strenght can be borrowed, infinitely shared between two souls. She lent him hers, over and over again, teaching him how to take hurt and turn it into resilience. As tiny as she was, she supported him through it all, with all her might, albeit sometimes unsteady. He just never knew, never truly realised: she was his lighthouse, sure, but he was hers. He matters to this woman, this small breakable woman, just as much as she matters to him. And that’s the last – and most important – lesson Beel ever has to learn.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me beelzebub #beel x mc #this was completely self indulgent tbh #all aboard the cheese train peepsss #mystuff #lessonslearned

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Ten (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 7.5k

Warnings; swearing, murder!

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

DOUBLE UPDATE TODAY --> CHAPTER TEN 1/2

–

You would take the fucking birds over the spiders any day. If you could go back in time and be here instead, you would take it. Because while it was genuine torture for Katniss--since she has human emotion--it was nothing to you. You laughed for the first fifteen minutes, until it stopped being funny as soon as they pulled out fabricated screams of your very dead family.

You can’t deny that you weren't impressed, though. The amount of trouble they must have gone through just to get them had to have been a lot. They’re dead, which means that they obviously can’t torture them, so the screams have to be fake. So, they have to go back to the interview they had with your family when you were first in the games, take samples of their voices, and then manipulate it until it sounded about right.

They did a fantastic job making it sound real. You almost had a flashback to all those times you were a dick to your brothers and sisters. However, you can’t verify for your parents. They never screamed, no matter what situation they were in, they took it without any fear.

You tried to tell Katniss that the people she hears screaming are probably just fine, considering the gamemakers are morons and they just gave the entire thing away the second they chose your family. But she either literally couldn’t hear you over the birds, or she just chose to ignore you either way.

You can’t say that you didn’t try, though you didn’t care enough to enforce it in her mind.

After a certain point in time, you got fed up with the birds pelting you, and sitting around next to the wall waiting for the hour to be up, so you wandered. Of course, where you went, the birds followed. But it was better being able to move around and check out the sector to see if it was worth staying in after this.

Compared to everything else, this section of the arena is definitely harmless. The birds fuck with the mind of those who have human emotion, but that’s about it. There’s no deadly fog or monkeys. There’s no spiders that eat flesh or a wave of water that’ll wipe you out if you can’t swim. It’s basically clean.

Although, it does hurt when the birds propel themselves into your body, beaks first. After a while, you kinda just get used to it, and learn when to swing the glaive to send the birds flying into the trees. It was fun, until you realized that if you wander too far, the gamemakers might actually try to wipe you out for entertainment.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks, you swat his hand away.

“You think I give a shit?” you ask, “Those birds mean nothing. The screams are fake, the gamemakers were stupid enough to use my families.” you look up to the sky of the arena, “Which by the way, if you didn’t know--they’re all fucking dead!”

The look on Finnick’s face is almost priceless. He opens his mouth, but you shake your head at him. They’ve been dead for years, and no amount of apologies will bring them back to life. Everyone can say they’re sorry all they want, but you don’t want to hear a single thing out of their mouth concerning the situation unless they’re some sort of necromancer.

“They won’t touch Prim.” Peeta says to Katniss.

“Your fiance’s right, the whole country loves your sister. If they tortured her-–if they did anything to her, forget the districts. There would be riots in the damn Capitol.” Johanna laughs, and then yells; “Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we-–what if we set your backyard on fire? You know you can’t put everybody in here.”

You slow clap, snickering to yourself. Johanna and you may not get along, since you two come from very different places, but the two of you are similar than anyone may think. Which is the exact reason why you hate her so fucking much. You don’t want to be compared to her. While she’s loud-mouthed and unafraid to get in trouble, you’d never say some of the shit she does.

Like her stunt during the interview, not a move you would have made. Then again, your entire plan when you volunteered was to be ruthless and win. You didn’t want a target on your head back then, and you don’t really want one now either. However, in order for that not to happen, you’d have to completely ditch your group of allies here.

If anything screams target, it’s sticking around with Beetee, the guy who worked for the Capitol, knows things that he shouldn’t. Johanna, as you said, loud-mouthed and unfearful of sharing her opinions. And Katniss Everdeen, the trouble-stirrer. Plus, god knows what Snow would have against Finnick, Peeta and you.

“What?” she asks, “He can’t hurt me. There’s no one left that I love.”

“Join the club.” you swing the glaive in your hand before slamming it into the ground.

First of all, you’re not entirely surprised that her family has been killed off. When she had come out of her games, she was a big talk for a long while. Johanna played the damsel in distress role very well, which is nearly the same thing that Finnick had done. The only difference, Finnick was just looked over until the last second, while Johanna was purposely acting innocent.

It doesn’t take a lot for the Capitol citizens to desire a certain tribute. They must have seen the fire, spunk and determination on Johanna. Snow obviously had tried to get her to say yes, but even after he had killed her family, she didn’t give in like the rest of you.

You’ve known a couple of people that have been included in the Capitol’s antics, actually. Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria, you. You know for a fact that Finnick was included, and you bet he said no at first too, so he’s missing a few fingers. There’s Johanna, maybe Blight but you don’t have a clue on that. A few of the other tributes that have been in here probably too.

Katniss and Peeta would be on that list, if it weren’t for them being together and the nation wanting them to be. There’s a great deal of people that want them to be married and have children and be the holy grail of perfect couples. While on the other hand, there’s a few that would desire Katniss, you’re not sure about Peeta. He’s kinda… brainless.

Anyway, Snow wouldn’t take a chance like breaking up the most loved couple at the moment to try and sell one--or maybe both!--into prostitution. He’s smarter than that.

Johanna walks off, you’re not entirely sure why, and you don’t care very much either.

“You weren’t affected at all?” Finnick asks when he can’t stand the silence. Or he’s curious over why Katniss had lost her mind and you stood like a soldier in a storm.

“Finnick, I stopped giving a shit a long time ago,” you say, “There’s two exact things that I care about anymore. One, my big cozy house in District Two. And two, my pride and joy, Tanith.” you grab a hold of the necklace, showing it off for a moment, “And before you ask, no she isn’t my daughter. She’s just one of two of my victors.”

Zavian can go fuck himself, is what you’re subtly implying. You wonder if he’s caught on to that.

“Sure, they tried to get a rise out of me using Tanith’s screams, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I already saw what happened to numb nuts--” you motion to Katniss, “--and decided to just… not care. I’m not exactly an emotional person, if you haven’t caught on just yet.”

Peeta clearly didn’t like the nickname that you handed off to Katniss. To this, you give him a very specific look as you pass him. Almost a sneer, because you still are very much above him.

“Kids.” you mutter.

This is enough to set him off, “Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

“Peeta…” Finnick warns.

You crouch down near him and Katniss, “You know how animals get a little antsy when their prey is in front of them?” he looks like he pales, “We’re not friends, Peeta. In fact, I completely loathe you and I’ve been waiting for a moment to pounce on you and everyone else here.

“The second that this alliance fails, I’m going after you guys first. Not Johanna, or Beetee, or Brutus. You and your little girlfriend.”

“That just means that you’re afraid of what we’re capable of.”

You laugh in his face, before moving closer, whispering; “No, I just know things that you don’t.” you stand again, “I’m heading to the beach, don’t feel forced to follow anytime soon.”

You take a completely new path to the beach, making sure to cover your tracks the best you can. Last thing you want is Finnick chasing after you, thinking that you’re upset or whatever. That isn’t the case in the slightest, you’re mostly walking away so you don’t end up killing them.

Katniss is in the most vulnerable state she’s been in yet. A quick stab through her chest, and then a swing of the glaive up to Peeta’s throat--and you’ve knocked them both out of the game already. You bet Finnick wouldn’t necessarily try to kill you, but he’d definitely disarm you in some way.

Pull the pocket knife out of your boot, three people are dead. Beetee can’t run that fast, four people. It would just be you and Johanna, and she’d probably go running back to the rest of you, since that’s a lot of cannons. You’d take her out too, and then there would be only three people left inside of the games.

You, Brutus, and Chaff--as Peeta said. Chaff doesn’t have any important skills, he’d die in the wilderness. With your luck, all you’d have to do is camp the cornucopia, hidden inside, and when he would come to armor up some more--because he would--you’d take him out too. Just like that, you’d be the winner of the Quarter Quell.

Of course, this is all easier said than done. Trying to kill four people in one big burst would be an absolute pain in the ass. You’d have to pick a perfect time to do it. Like Katniss freaking out over whoever it was, and Peeta tending over her.

Actually, instead of killing Finnick third, you think you would go for Beetee instead, and Finnick would come after. It just makes more sense that way.

The beach is empty, there’s no one around the ring--and as far as you can see--in the treeline either. Brutus would be smart enough to stay in the jungle, and not make a run for the cornucopia just in case the rest of you are out here. He’s outnumbered considerably. He might be able to mow down a few people at first, but eventually he’ll get taken down.

You take a seat next to the tree that you guys were gathered around before the jabberjays had rudely interrupted. You run your hands over your arms, noticing that the scabs are basically gone already. It’s good news, it means that the ointment that you were given works at an accelerated pace--even more so than the cream for the cut on the back of your head.

Applying it again, you skip your legs. It’s only the upper half of your body that’s exposed anymore, and it’s because you passed on putting the shirt on. It was because of how hot it is in here. Plus, the thing is basically ruined anyway, the spiders had chewed holes in it to get through.

Hell, you bet that it’s still where you left it last.

You can’t wait until all of this is over.

“Who’s Annie?” Katniss asks, you raise your head from where it was resting against a tree, looking to where everyone is sitting.

Johanna is next to Katniss, Finnick is sitting in the water, and Beetee and Peeta are nearby.

“Annie Cresta, the girl that Mags volunteered for. She won like four years--five years ago.” Johanna says.

You lay your head back down against the tree, but don’t bother closing your eyes again, instead you stare right ahead at Finnick. You’d call him insane for sitting in freezing water like that, but he comes from the ocean district. No water can really bother him that badly.

You wonder what brought Katniss’ question on. She might have overheard you when you asked Finnick that question. About what would happen to Annie if you and Finnick are soulmates. If he’d just willingly leave her like that, after he found your dislikable personality, charming somehow.

“Is she the one that went a little…” Katniss doesn’t want to say it.

Johanna hums, pauses, and then says; “Love is weird.”

Unfortunately, it is.

“I have a plan.” Beetee says.

“Finnick!” Johanna gets up.

“I have a plan.” Beetee repeats.

Finnick and Johanna come back over, arms resting on the tree branch. You don’t move from where you’re sitting, which is definitely out of the circle that they’re standing and sitting in. You’re exhausted, you need some real sleep and not some power naps every couple of hours.

“Where does Brutus feel safest? The jungle?” Beetee asks.

“Jungles a nightmare.” Johanna says.

“Probably here on the beach.” Peeta answers.

“Then why is he not here?” Beetee asks.

“Because we are. We claimed it.” Johanna spits.

You can’t believe that they’re really worrying over one person. As you’ve said to yourself over and over, Brutus is harmless if you’re all careful. Yes, he will come back to hunt, but he’s going to need supplies out of the cornucopia first. Once he gets that shit, he’ll be coming after you guys.

“And if we left, he would come?” Beetee asks again.

You hate his ‘twenty questions’ game. If you have a plan, just say it and not beat around the bush.

“Or stay hidden in the treeline.” Finnick says.

“Which in just over four hours will be soaked with water from the ten o’clock wave.” he smiles, “Then what happens at midnight?”

“Lightning strikes that tree.” Katniss points.

“Here’s what I propose,” Beetee starts, “We leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightning tree, that should draw them back to the beach. Prior to midnight, we then run this wire–” he motions to it, and then goes to pointing, “–from the tree, to the water. Anyone in the water, or the damp sand, will be electrocuted.’

The two morons sitting in the sand feel it between their fingers as if they don’t know what damp sand feels like by now. You clench your teeth and close your eyes, leaning your head back.

Maybe you should just stay here and quit following them around.

“How do we know that the wire’s not going to burn up?” Johanna asks.

“Because I invented it.” he says, “I assure you, it won’t burn up.”

Johanna and Finnick share a look, and you can practically hear the conversation. Asking if it’s worth it, the other says it won’t. There’s really nothing left to lose, so you all might as well do it.

And then, Finnick looks at you, “What’re you thinking, (Y/n)?”

“Is there a look on my face?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

Finnick cracks a smile, “I’m asking because you know these tricks best.”

Sighing, you lean forward, “Not that you actually care, you’re going to go through whatever you feel like is best. But if you want my opinion, Brutus is one man. We can take him on, it’s not like he’s impossible to kill. The fact that you’re going through will all of this though--” you motion between the sand and the coil of wire, “--is stupid.”

“But if you were with him, would you come after us?” Katniss asks.

“Without a doubt. However, he’s by himself, he’s smarter than you guys take him for, he’s gonna wait till we split up or something. Also, since he’s the last hope of a career--since I am very clearly tainted by your ideals--he’s pampered. The motherfucker will have everything that he could wish for.”

Johanna laughs, “Well, Beetee’s plan is better than hunting him down.”

You roll your eyes, laying back against the tree again. You don’t know why you bother.

What’s even more annoying, is that you’re considering helping Brutus come after these pretentious dicks. And now that you know their plan, it makes it even better. You and Brutus would be able to avoid the beach for a while, and if it does get electrocuted, the sand will likely be partially glass anyway.

And since you know the jungle better than Brutus does at this point, he’ll owe you more than he’ll like it.

“Yeah, why not? If it fails, no harm done anyway.” Katniss says.

Peeta nods, “Alright, I say we try it.”

“So what can we do to help?” Finnick asks.

Beetee pauses for a moment before answering, “Keep me alive for the next six hours? That would be extremely helpful.”

Beetee goes ahead and lists everything that he’ll be doing. For a while, you’re able to sit through his speech, until you develop a headache. Only then do you go ahead with getting up and wandering to the cornucopia just to get away from everyone. If you do decide to sneak off, it’ll be easier to do when there’s a structure blocking their view.

You’ve got hours to burn before you have to leave the beach and go to the trees.

It isn’t until you’re pretty far along the rocks when you realize that you’re not alone. In fact, there’s quite a lot of splashing happening in the water. Instinctively, you move closer to the other side of the rock, not really wanting to look and see if there’s a fucking mutt that also lives inside of the water. On top of the fact that the gamemakers can spin you dizzy if they feel like it.

“Smart.”

“Holy fuck, Finnick.” you stop, raising your face to the sky, “Do you ever give people personal space?”

“Remember what happened the last time we were in the middle?”

You look at Finnick now, “As you guys said, he’s probably staying hidden in the trees! Won’t come out until we’re fuckin’ gone, so what’s the harm in wandering around?”

Finnick comes up to the rocks, crossing his arms and pulling himself with them, “Was that rhetorical or do you really want to know.”

You crouch down, “What are you here for?”

“Keeping an eye on you.”

“Afraid I’ll run?”

“After that homicidal look you had on your face listening to Beetee, yeah.”

You offer your hand to him, and he takes it, so you pull him up, “Beetee not only had an annoying voice, but doesn’t know when to shut up.” you look at where he’s sitting with Johanna, “She’s probably wanting to kill him too.”

You don’t wait for Finnick to pull himself up. The cornucopia is empty, there’s no one here but you and Finnick.

You wish that there weren’t cameras everywhere. You wish that you’d be able to have a full conversation with Finnick, cutting out all the secret words. You want to ask him what happened if this plan of his actually comes true. Who’s bringing them out of here? And when?

You have a vague idea, Beetee said that you guys should keep him alive for the ‘next six hours’, and not anything past that. That’s significant, right? Maybe it will happen tonight, after all.

“What’s on your mind?” Finnick takes a seat on the box while you six in the black sand.

“Six hours to keep him alive is very specific, don’t you think?” you ask, hoping that he catches on, “Do you think he has any big plans after that?”

“He might, after midnight. Just depends if it all goes according to plan.”

Something might happen after midnight--doesn’t make sense to you, “Well, Chaff is dead already,” the cannon went off an hour ago, it can’t be Brutus, you just know it, “And if we do kill Brutus, that just leaves us.”

“Yes it does.” Finnick says.

“Which means that I should branch off while I can.” you squint, waiting for him to object.

“We’d just have to go after you next, since you have a vendetta against Peeta and Katniss, after all.”

“So I should stick around?”

“We might surprise you.” Finnick smiles.

You stand again, heading over to the water, facing it, “Yeah? And what happens if they shoot first?”

“Come on, (Y/n). You’re telling me that you won’t be anticipating it the entire time?”

He’s amused, which annoys you. All of this is such a walk in the park for him, and he can clearly tell that none of this is as easy for you. You don’t know if you can put your trust in their hands, considering that they know your motives. If you let your guard down for even a little bit, they’d be able to take you out.

Finnick is always so smug when it comes to things. Whoever is really behind this, he must believe in them a lot. They have to be really good at whatever they’re planning to do if this is the way to go.

“I will.” you admit, “If Katniss even twitches, I’ll wipe out that boy of hers.” you slam the glaive into the rock, smiling a little bit, “And while she’s grieving, I’ll take her next.”

“You fantasize about death a lot?”

“For them, yes.” you look over your shoulder, “Could you imagine the shock on the Capitol citizen’s faces when I take out the girl on fire and her useless boyfriend? They’d loathe me.”

“You’d get yourself in trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble. I had tons of people betting on me, and I’ve wasted their precious money.”

He snorts, “They’ll have more to waste next year, too.”

If there is a next year.

“When do we head back to the others?” you ask.

“Is the sun hitting the trees yet?” Finnick is behind you, and just before you’re able to slip out of his fingers, he places his hands on your waist and leans forward, “Looks like we’ve still got some time.”

“Annie Cresta is sobbing in her psychotic rocking chair.” you elbow him to get him off, and he obliges, “What made you like her, anyway?”

“What made you like me?”

You laugh, “Ha! You think I give a shit about you!” you then deadpan, staring at him, “Sweetheart, I could drown you in these waters and come up victorious. You haven’t grown on me as much as you think you have.”

“You’re tolerating me more, whether you want to admit that or not.”

“Tolerating is a hell of a difference. Ticking time bomb--what was that song that Wiress was singing before she was subtly murdered by my admirer?” you mock a smile.

Finnick looks interested, “Admirer? Gloss admired you?”

“If you win these games, make sure they play back the tapes of every single time Gloss and I ran across each other. Watch his eyes, especially. And the interview, too, because he had the blessing of holding my hand for a minute while we played rebellion on live tv.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he laughs to himself, “(Y/n), you could have anyone you want, and yet you choose to be all by yourself.”

“What? Johanna and Beetee have a crush on me now? On top of you, and Gloss, and probably Brutus too.”

“Who said I’m on that list?” Finnick asks.

You hold up your finger, before moving behind him, placing your hands on his sides, leaning into his body as close as you can manage. He’s wet from being in the water, but the effect works.

“Go fuck yourself.”

You shove him in after that, watching as he flails, and then hits the water.

You pick up your glaive from the rocks as you move back to the cornucopia. It’s a couple of seconds before Finnick gets himself out of the water again. You don’t say a word to him, pulling out food from the boxes and chewing on it as you continue to dig through the shit.

“You don’t need to ask my permission to go to the others.” you tell him, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I’m going to sit here anyway.”

Not like he has much to do in the first place.

“Do you really think I would leave Annie for you?”

“No, and I don’t want you to either. The girl is nutty enough as it is, she’d just think that the next person she comes across that shows an interest will end up leaving her if they find their soulmate too.”

“You’d stay with someone even if they weren’t?”

You look up, “I don’t date.”

“Hypothetically, then.”

Sighing, you go back to what you were doing, “It’s not really hypothetical with me. The guy did fucking leave me because he found his soulmate when I was in the games. The motherfucker started dating her before I’d even come home. I wore his stupid trinket necklace into the games and everything.

“I was a teenager--whatever. But we had been together for years, so I would expect some hesitance, and maybe even remorse.” you look at Finnick, “If I were you, I wouldn’t even be considering leaving Annie. It would be a downgrade, because I don’t care about you, and she does.

“And before you say that ‘time would change that’, you’d be changing me, the person I am. I’m developed, I’m not changing anything. You choose someone who would love you forever, or someone who would loathe every detail about you.” you stop now, “If you saw a golden apple and a rotten apple in front of you, which would you pick? I know I would pick the golden one.”

“I am the golden one--”

“And I’m the rotten one for you.” you say, “And honestly, even if you do pick me, I don’t pick you. My opinion hasn’t changed since the tribute parade, you’re as unlikable as all the other rejects on the beach. The only people that have ever liked you are one of the three things, dead, crazy, or horny. And I’m not any of those.”

“No,” Finnick instantly disagrees, “You’re crazy.”

“Not for you.”

Finnick laughs, and doesn’t say anything more.

You pop open another box, and lo and behold sits your sai’s. You laugh, pulling them out and turning them over in your hands. They’re shiny, new as the day as they were made.

“Look at these!” the excitement bubbles out of you, “I knew that they were here somewhere. They wouldn’t have the weapons for everyone but me.”

“Aren’t those used for disarming people, though? Not really for killing?”

You look up at Finnick, “That’s the best part. The bluntness makes it hurt.”

Getting to your feet, you spin them in your hands, and then aim them towards Finnick. You give him a pretty big smile, and he knows what you want. He picks up his trident, pointing it at your chest.

“What happens if I accidentally stab you?” Finnick asks.

“Don’t flatter yourself, you won’t even get close.” you swing first.

The bar to the trident gets stuck in the sai, and with one healthy twist, you’ve already disarmed Finnick in three moves. You grab the trident before it hits the rock, and then you hand it back to Finnick.

“That was quick.” Finnick raises his eyebrows, “What else do you know?”

“How to shoot a bow, wield a number of swords that are different variations of the same model. I know how to use the trident you’re holding, and anything close to a spear--what else?” you look into the cornucopia, “Probably the whip, the mace--with and without the chain too. The axes that Johanna has, I’d be able to use that too, but it’s a little heavy for my liking.”

When you look at Finnick, he clearly doesn’t know what to think, “Are you lying to me?”

“No.”

“What can’t you do?”

“Swim well, and probably fish either. District Two is a barren wasteland.” you belt at least one of the sai’s before picking the glaive up, “Sun’s hit the trees, it’s about time we head back.”

You take the lead while Finnick lags for a moment.

The walk back is filled with questions, and more banter back and forth. By the time you get to the beach, the others are ready to go. Everyone packs up their shit--not that there’s much in the first place--and then you all head into the jungle, one by one.

Finnick, Beetee, Peeta, Katniss, Johanna, and then you. Johanna and you had a power struggle for a moment, until Finnick said that you probably should be kept away from Katniss and Peeta since you’re more dangerous than you let on. Johanna laughed in your face, but didn’t argue.

You guess that he isn’t wrong. You could take any of their weapons and thrive. One of the perks of being a games-trained tribute, rather than an unsuspecting child. You were taught to be able to use anything, which doesn’t mean that you don’t have preferences when it comes to certain things, of course.

You’d prefer an sai because it’s able to disarm people pretty quickly. It’s unrealistic in a deadly fight though, so you’d always go for something more simple as a sword. You would have picked that instead, if it weren’t for the fact that swords are basic, and have average reach. A glaive, a spear, or a trident is a complete different story.

Throwing a glaive is going to be easier than throwing a sword. They’re built different, swords are meant to slice through the air to move quicker. While the glaive, spear, or trident are specifically designed to be able to be thrown without fucking it up. If you threw a sword, with the handle and the blade that it has, it would spin through the air. While the others specifically have a pole made for throwing.

Also, the tip of the spear is meant to guide the rest of the weapon. It’s heavy in that one spot mostly, as the rest of it is light material--or it’s supposed to be, at least. It’s going to be a lot harder to throw one thing straight than the other.

As the sun gets lower, the jungle gets darker. The heat might be less, but that doesn’t stop the humidity. You’re sweating out all the water you drank before this hike. The entire thing is uphill, and it’s pretty steep too. You can feel the burn in your calves from it.

Capitol music interrupts the silence. But while the others stop, you don’t bother. You can see their faces and their districts in your mind already. Cashmere and Gloss from District One, Cashmere being your kill, Gloss being Katniss. Wiress since Gloss has killed her before going down seconds later.

Mags because she died due to the poisonous fog in a noble sacrifice for Peeta. The girl from five, she drowned in the tidal wave that hit at ten this morning. Next is the female morphling that died for Peeta during the mutt attack, which was just an hour after Mags had died.

Blight, Johanna’s district mate because he ran head-first into the forcefield wall or whatever when he was blinded by the blood rain. The guy from ten died from an unknown mutt attack, which would later be the same fate for Chaff.

It’s you and Brutus, Beetee, Finnick, Johanna, and Katniss and Peeta left in here. Brutus is the odd man out, while the rest of you are in a supposed alliance. By now, in any other regular games, the tributes would be at each other’s throats already. If you all were careers--which, two of you are in this case--it would be even worse.

People would be picked off in their sleep, there would be no time to sort a plan out. Let everyone run in different directions and go from there. If you come across each other, it’s a fight to the death. Unless they’re making mini allies after that.

“Eager?” Finnick asks as soon as you get up to him.

“If I stop walking now, then I’m not going to get back up.” you tell him, “Plus I know everyone that’s died already, and you know the exact amount too. Take a look at your arm.”

“You won’t take a moment to honor them?”

“I had planned to kill half of them, so no, I really won’t.” you then pause for a second, looking at Finnick, “May Mags have peace, though.”

Finnick cracks a smile, “You’re soft.”

You scowl at Finnick, before going back to the hill. Finnick keeps at your pace, and in no time, you’re reached the tree. Beetee passes you guys up.

“Minimal charring, impressive conductor… let’s get started.” Beetee says, heading over to the tree.

As everyone else follows him over, you decide to stay watch instead. Finnick doesn’t move either, probably deciding that it’ll be best to stick by your sick.

“Lost puppy.” you mutter.

Beetee gets the wire going around the tree, and since it’s made up of a bunch of small trees, Beetee focuses on those and not the one main part. It takes a while before he finally gets a rhythm down, he goes much faster after that.

And since he’s Beetee, he’s also blabbing his mouth while he does it, “Typically, a lightning strike contains five billion volts of energy.”

“Fascinating.” Finnick snickers, and you look over to give him a look of amusement.

“We don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when this hits.”

Beetee finishes up with the wire, and then he begins off in the direction that you guys came from, holding it out to Katniss, “You girls go together now, take this. Unspool it carefully, make sure the entire coil is in the water, you understand? Then head to the tree at the two o’clock center, we’ll meet you there.”

Katniss looks between Beetee and Johanna, like she doesn’t know what to think of this. Too bad for her, you’re not entirely sure either. You have no clue what the hell is going on, but from the look on Finnick’s face, he wants you to play along.

“I’m going to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says.

You laugh, “As if you’d be much help.”

“No, you’re staying here to protect me.” Beetee then adds, “And the tree.”

“No, I need to go with her.” Peeta says in a mock authoritative tone.

“Brutus is the size of two careers, I need two guards.”

“Finnick and (Y/n) can protect you just fine.” Peeta tries.

“Last time I checked, you’re not a girl,” you lean on the glaive.

“Yeah, why can’t Finnick and (Y/n) protect you, and Peeta, Johanna and I take the coil?”

“You all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?” Beetee comes closer, glasses halfway down his nose.

“It’s his plan, we all agreed to it,” Johanna says.

Finnick chimes in too, “Is there a problem, here?”

“Excellent question.” Beetee waits for an objection.

There is none, “No, there’s no problem.”

Katniss goes to say goodbye to Peeta, and you give a look to Johanna, “I’m not holding the wire.”

“I don’t plan on it either.” Johanna says.

Johanna gives Katniss another second before telling him to pick up the pace. After that, the three of you leave to go down the hill to the sand. As you go down the way you came, you realize that Johanna seems to have an entire path planned out, she’s got a goal.

As much as you hate to say it, you’ve got to follow her lead, especially if you might screw up whatever it is that she has to do. With what Finnick said and all earlier this evening, midnight or after. Six hours has come upon you guys quite quickly, it’s not even thirty minutes or so until the lightning does happen.

You go down the hill first, allowing Johanna and then Katniss go behind you. Johanna seemed to have wanted it this way, and she even encouraged you to be the one that went first. You’d like to be paranoid about it being because she can literally backstab you in this position, but you don’t have the energy for this.

You’d really like to know the point of going all the way up the hill to wrap a wire around a tree only for it to turn out that you’d literally be going back down the hill maybe an hour to a half hour later.

It’s mostly just silence, the most difficult part is going down the rocks. You use the glaive as a walking stick as you carefully lower yourself down onto each rock. With Johanna and Katniss, Johanna takes the bow from her to allow Katniss to get down safely. Also allowing her to focus on the safety of the wire.

Johanna hands the bow back, and then says, “Come on. I want to put as much distance between me and this beach as possible. Frying is not how I want to go.”

You guys walk a couple more steps, until the sound of the wire unspooling stops altogether, and Katniss comes to a halt too. When you turn around to see, the wire is pulled tight, and each time Katniss tugs, it doesn’t move.

“There’s something…” Katniss trails off, leaning forward a little bit.

This isn’t a coincidence, you give a look to Johanna just before the wire snaps, and she nods at you. The moment you look back at the place where the wire had been stuck, Brutus emerges. In the same moment, Johanna grabs the wire from Katniss and hits her over the head with it.

“Keep an eye on him.” Johanna murmurs lowly, and she doesn’t really have to tell you twice.

Whatever Johanna does, it makes Katniss scream. By the time Johanna stands again, there’s blood on her hands, you watch as she reaches for her axe, but you stop her. You grab the sai on your belt and throw it, before shoving Johanna to get her running.

She doesn’t hesitate, and she might even be grateful of the fact that she won’t be fighting Brutus with her two tiny fists.

“Is he following?” Johanna asks.

You pause for a moment, listening, until Brutus comes running at you from the fucking trees. You swing the glaive, allowing him to dodge and get out of the way. You slip under his arm when his attention is then turned to Johanna. After that, you scramble your way up to higher ground.

As you go up, you dig your hand into your boot, searching for the pocketknife. However, you can’t seem to find it at first. You stop, make your way up to the top of the hill first, before pulling the boot off. The knife drops into the leaves, and you pick it up, flicking it open.

After that, you take off running without the shoe. You can feel the rocks and needles poking into your foot with every single step you take. You keep an eye on your right, looking for Brutus’ shiny bald head in the moonlight. And when you’re sure you caught a glimpse of it, you take a couple of steps back.

You catch your breath the best you can, and when you feel the adrenaline run through your body like a shot of energy, you bolt towards the cliff. When you hit the edge, you push off, and pull the knife over your head. Johanna clearly sees you behind him, over him, flying down like an eagle catching its prey.

Then, you sink the knife straight into the back of Brutus’ neck. It doesn’t kill him immediately, but he does fall flat onto his elbows. It’s not over yet, the cannon hasn’t signaled so you pull the knife out and sink it straight into the back of Brutus’ skull.

The cannon goes off, and you dip your head a little bit, sucking in the air between your teeth.

“Shit.”

“Don’t fucking mention it.” you tell her, getting up again, “You should find Katniss, or whatever.”

“Yeah, you’re okay?”

“Are you? I left you alone for a minute.”

“No dents.” she says.

She takes off after that, and you nod a little to yourself. You take the same path that you did the first time, finding your shoe at the top. You yank the sock off, shove your foot into the boot, pick up the glaive and then start towards the tree. You only know you’re heading in the right direction when you can see glimpses through the trees.

You slam into something solid, but you grab onto it before you bounce off. It takes you a second to realize that it’s no tree, it’s Finnick. His eyes are wide and he looks over you.

“Who’s blood--”

“Brutus, he’s dead. Johanna went to look for Katniss.”

“Peeta ran off when the cannon--we need to find Katniss first.”

“What’s the plan?” you ask, stopping Finnick.

“Find who you can and bring them back to the tree.”

This is chaos.

“Okay,” you agree, “Yeah, alright.”

You go to go by yourself, but Finnick pulls you along with him. The two of you run through the trees a little bit as he calls out for Johanna, and Peeta and Katniss. When you guys take a moment to get your heads back, you suggest that they might have just gone back to the lightning tree.

“Yeah--okay.” Finnick says.

“I’m going to look for another minute or so, I’ll be there in a second.” you push him.

“No, come with me.”

“Finnick, if they’re not at the tree, they’re out here.” you pause for a second, “I’m not going to kill anyone, promise. Just go.”

He clearly doesn’t want to agree, but he heads in that direction anyway. And just as you said, you search the ground, in the bushes, leaves and trees. You’re mainly hoping that Peeta is pulling his stupid camoflauge stunt, but you’re not entirely sure how he would have enough time to do that.

Nevertheless, you kick in bushes, and peek into trees that are split open. You sweep your foot between rocks, hoping that you’ll find something squishy, or a groan of complaint, but there really is nothing.

Another couple of minutes, and then you decide that they have to be back at camp at this rate, right?

“Johanna?” you yell, fed up with this quiet game, because there is no threat anymore, “Peeta?”

Just as there’s rustling in the leaves, an explosion goes off above you. You crouch, covering your head as you meekly look to see what caused it. Your mouth falls open when you see the sky of the arena is black, and the hexagons that hold the arena together, are coming loose.

“What the fuck?” Johanna asks.

“Did you find Peeta?”

“No, Finnick or Katniss?”

“Finnick went back to the tree.” your voice sounds far away.

The hexagons are falling now, the mouth of the arena is now on fire. You can see all the construction that’s behind the making of these places. The tree is so far up the hill, it would take a lot of energy to run all that way again.

Neither you or Johanna move, though, staring at the opening. Then, a familiar black mass appears in the bright blue sky, lowering a claw. All the way down, until it sweeps up Beetee.

You start moving towards the tree, keeping your eyes on the hovercraft, watching as it gets dropped down a second time.

“(Y/n)--!” Johanna starts.

“I’m not staying in here!” you yell back at her, “I’m getting the fuck out of here even if it kills me!”

You struggle going up the ledge of dirt, and then the rocks too as you try not to make them dislodge and tumble. Johanna doesn’t follow you, almost like she knows something and you don’t.

The claw goes down a third time, and some sick feeling in your stomach tells you that it’s the final time. You push yourself the best you can, but you can feel your body giving up already. And just as you make it into the clearing, Finnick is already getting lifted into the air.

The ground shakes with every hexagon that falls. The jungle is on fire, and you can smell the burning wood, giving you a headache. But you don’t move from where you’re standing, watching as the claw is brought in. And just as you anticipate it coming out the fourth time.

The hovercraft flies away.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia chapter ten #metanoia

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redspiderling · 4 years

Text

Total Film Interview

OK. Guys. I realise my posts today have been particularly gloomy but. BUT. Something magical has come my way and I’d love to share it with you.

You know sometimes when talking (or raging) about Marvel, and most specifically about Natasha, it feels like throwing bottles into the ocean?

You never expect an actual response (as in change, or improvement, or a hint that they’ve managed to connect with their audiences) that seems to be reflecting the subjects of the conversation.

Well, imagine my shock, awe, and consequent excitement when I was reading the Black Widow cover story in Total Film, and for the first time in years I saw my thoughts reflected back at me from the creative team of the film!

Just a note before you begin reading: While there are obviously no outright spoilers through the interview, the director and the cast were entirely unafraid to describe what the film is about, in a fairly explanatory way. So if you want to be completely in the dark regarding the plot of the film, don’t read any further that this.

Seriously, this isn’t like the Endgame material where all we got was “it’s great go see it”, they really talked about the film and it was fucking glorious.

If you don’t want to be spoiled at all about this movie, let me at least assure you that after reading this cover story I am mostly convinced this film will be magnificent, and everything we’ve been wanting for Natasha for so many years (and probably some stuff we never thought we’d get to see on screen).

I don’t want to post the entire cover story because that’s just not fair to the magazine. But it was a very thorough piece and I can share with you the worthiest of quotes.

During the interview with Scarlett, she mentioned of course that she wouldn’t have been interested in making this film unless the story was good and to that, I quote:

The key was finding Cate Shortland. Marvel has made a habit of taking well-regarded indie directors [...] and giving them a multi-million dollar platform to tell superhero stories.

Despite this, for Shortland [...] there was some hesitation at taking the job:

“Scarlett and I Skyped when I was in Australia. [...] I was still trying to work out whether I wanted to do the movie, because I just couldn’t believe that they were asking me. I just thought, What a strange mix. Me and Marvel?”

Hours of conversations were had but, eventually, the filmmaker was convinced this would be a character piece worth investigating. Shortland quickly began working with a Russian researcher to create background files for Natasha.

That was the first time that had been done in years, she continues.

“And I remember Scarlett coming to me and saying God, I really am Russian. That was really great.”

Padding out Natasha’s background helped ground the character for Johansson like never before, and gave the writing ream new material to delve into.

Suffice to say that I literally squealed of joy when I read these lines.

Guys, Cate has done a wonderful job already. Cate has made Natasha RUSSIAN. Something I’ve been bitching about for YEARS and yet never expected to see realised on screen.

Even better, laten during the interview Scarlett mentions that the time period was chosen specifically because there wasn’t anything major going on; and they wanted it to be a quiet time because, as Scarlett says:

“for Natasha this was really an opportunity to not run and be self-reflective. And that’s when all this stuff creeps out.”

Digging head-first into Natasha’s story wasn’t simple. In fact, Johansson admits that the whole scripting process was “extremely stressful” because there was so much of the character’s past to explore.

“We came to a big pitch that was super-existential and very poetic”

I’m not exaggerating when I admit that this was me reading those lines:

For the record, pitch is when your story is ready to be delivered to a producer, it’s basically the essence of the script.

Again, according to these interviews the story of the Russian family was in accordance with Feige’s vision for the film, and with the elements Shortland wanted to express through it as a story, that Natasha be viewed as a person “She’s not a superhero in those scenes; she’s a daughter or a sister.”

It’s also worthy to note that according to Scarlett they’ve made complex relationships with the other characters, tightly woven stories that are more complex than the relationships Natasha has had on film so far (I know, I know, the bar was set low, but still!)

And because Cate just had to give me another reason to love her:

“Natasha has a fear of being loved, Shortland adds, “She’s really Teflon-coated, and she’s a fetishised character. So you don’t see, often, the depth to her. What we wanted to see was her forgive herself and allow people in. I think that’s really beautiful because it allows the audience to see her in a different way.

What I wanted to make sure was that I connected her to the universe. I’m not talking about the Marvel Universe, but to a wider universe, so that the audience felt like she was connected to the spiritual world and she wasn’t just a woman in leather kicking ass, that she was a vulnerable, raw, angry, illogical creature who’d been damaged as a kid. How do you make sense of that as an adult? And how do you forgive those around you that have caused the trauma?

I was honest to God openly crying by this point.

Which means it’s a good thing I waited till I got home to read this, but believe you me, it gets better, because according to Weisz and Florence (bless their souls), if this material sounds heavy to you for a Marvel movie, that’s because it IS.

“This film is about the abuse of women... About Girls who are stolen”.

For Shortland, Natasha’s story naturally lean towards these more serious subjects due to the very nature of the character in comparison to the other avengers.

“She’s the only character that doesn’t have superpowers. We saw that as a strength, because she always has to dig really deep to get out of shit situations. And we just put her in a lot of hard situations. I thought about women walking to the train station being attacked, and what happens. Natasha’s like Clarice, from the Silence of the Lambs. It’s great, because when she holds her gun, it shakes. But she’s still really tough inside, and resilient. And I wanted to bring that to the character. So you’re not just watching her fly through situations, knowing she’ll get out of it. You want to see her grit and determination. And that’s what we got.

Guys, this is perfect. I already love this film. I know I will be eternally grateful to all these women for what they’ve done for us. If you can, please go out and get Total Film, they did an amazing job and they deserve to get some recognition. If I could I would frame my copy, as it is I’m putting it in a vault because I want to keep this because some day we’ll be writing articles about these people.

It’s a huge cover story and offers a lot of information on the secondary characters as well (including Yelena who is a vastly different character to Natasha, and their reasoning behind those differences is exceptional).

#thank Thor for Scarlett #and Thank Thor for Cate #Cate Shortland #Scarlett Johansson #total film #deserves all the credit there is #for an excellent cover story #Black Widow Movie is Here

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angel-squid-trash-ghost · 4 years

Text

Parental Guidance Pt.3

"You have a lot of explaining to do Iroh.” The Fire Lord’s voice rumbled on the marble walls.

“I can begin anywhere you like, brother.” Iroh kept his face impassive yet still retained his natural smirk.

“You can begin by telling me why you kidnapped the Prince!” The Fire Lord bellowed.

Iroh was no fool. And at times neither was his brother. But Ozai was a glutton for flattery, “I simply was doing what was best for the country. I could not allow my honorable brother to taint his hands in scandal. When our late father, may he be resting in the hands of Agni, had tasked you with the elimination of the prince, of course I did not question. When Lady Ursa foolishly disrupted, the task was not completed. I only did what a good brother would do and tried to help the best way I could.”

“By taking him from the palace alive.” Ozai’s nose started to flare.

“Yes of course! Seeing the boy board alive raised no suspicions. I was free to help on the open ocean. Away from listening ears and prying eyes. And alas, I was handed the perfect solution. When our ship sunk it took many lives including the Prince’s. The people weep for him in the streets as we speak.” Iroh held back the bile creeping up his throat.

“I do not care what they are doing in the streets. They seem to be weeping about something all of the time. Is it not enough that I am conquering the world for them?”

“Oh but, brother, their tears can be used to your advantage. Appear to them and share in their losses of their own sons with yours. You will have them not just by their minds but also their hearts. They will see you as you truly are. A man who just wants what is best for his people.”

“I do not care what’s best for them. I want glory! Victory! I’ll let them starve if it means the rest of The Earth Kingdom!” Ozai thundered. The sound rung for seconds after. He breathed out smoke regaining his prim posture. “But I can see the appeal in that strategy.”

“You are wise and will make the best decision.” Iroh bowed. Only for a moment. He didn’t trust his brother not to throw fire at his head.

Ozai laughed, “So, what decision should I make about you? I should burn you alive. Or at least imprison you. Your attempt of help could have been a disaster.”

“But the spirits were on my side. Everything happened as it should have. Now the Prince is no longer a problem and you, dear brother, are Fire Lord.” Iroh fought the strain in his smile.

“True again.” Ozai looked to be pondering something. “Alright I have made a decision. We will use the Prince’s unfortunate death to win the people over. They will be allowed to pity me and then love me more. Then I will continue taking what belongs to us and they will worship me forever.” Ozai said pleased with himself.

“An excellent judgment.” Iroh nodded. He waited patiently for Ozai to say more.

“And about you. I don’t think our father would have wanted me to kill you. He would have just made the request if he did. I will allow you to keep your life. I may need you later.”

“A thousand thanks to you, your majesty.” Iroh himself thought he sounded a little forced.

“The news spreading of a dead royal child will surely knock the memories of your failure at Ba Sing Se right out of their simple heads.”

“Indeed.” Iroh bit his tongue. Ozai had not stopped mentioning the failed siege. He wished to insult his military career forgetting it was where Iroh lost his only child. Or perhaps he did not forget. He did try to murder his own son.

“If you ever move without my permission again, I will string you up in the middle of Caldera and set you aflame myself.” Ozai warped his mouth into a wicked grin.

Iroh was keen to change the subject in case Ozai thought too long on it. “Very understandable. Maybe we can start new with a nice cup of tea.”

“Yes.”

Servants reappeared a short time later with everything Iroh needed. He took the teapot into his hands and heated the water to the proper temperature. Iroh had not forgiven himself for abandoning Zuko and probably never would. He prayed every night he was still alive. He hadn’t expected the Water tribesman especially a Southern one, to be so unafraid of him. Then maybe they had gotten rid of Zuko and his nephew was truly dead. Iroh had tried to apologize that night as him and his men made their escape. Hopefully, it was enough to make the chieftain understand.

A piece of his heart was with Zuko. Another with his wife. Another with his son. The last bit he would try to give to Azula. Ozai’s second child. Iroh knew without the intervention of Ursa, Ozai would sink his talons into her and sear her with his hatred for everything not golden eyed and draped in red. Fortunately Azula was still a toddler and had more of a chance.

“So how is the Princess Azula progressing.” Iroh poured the tea.

“A cup of tea and you go rambling on like an old man.”

“A cup of wine and you ramble on like a mad one.” Iroh jested.

Ozai did not seem to mind, “Well her tutors say she is doing well. She is learning to write the formal characters.”

“Write? She is barely three years of age.” Iroh took a long sip.

“Yes. She is a prodigy. She’s excelling in teachings created for children twice her age. The sages have determined she will be a bender.”

Iroh caught his paternal tone and tried to hold onto it. “Oh good news.”

“Very good. I like her much more than the first one. The other one was always whining. I blame myself. I allowed him to be around his mother too much. Not this time. Azula will be the perfect heir.” His brother’s smile had not wavered once.

Iroh balked at what was considered to be a normal chat at tea in the court. He pressed on pouring another round, “And if I may ask, where is the Lady Ursa now?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but I had her branded and banished. But she has probably taken her own life by now.”

“Maybe.” Iroh said sadly.

It was almost certainly true. He wouldn’t blame her any.

…………………………….................................................................................

Zuko rolled over in his furs. He settled into the warmth that encircled him. He was still getting used to the cold. It wasn’t too bad until the wind blew. He looked across the floor to Katara. Katara was nice. She called him friend. She was teaching him how to talk like her. He was teaching her some of his words too. Every day he woke up; earlier than the rest, looking forward to sitting with Katara and learning new things. He squirmed closer to her. She never seemed to mind even when he did wake her. She’d always smiled at him before lolling back to sleep.

The next person to wake would be Sir. Sir always sat up, looked to his left, say something, and then fully arise. Zuko always pretended he was asleep. He’d watch Sir dress himself with his chiefly fittings and unwrap his great whale bone spear. He wished he was allowed to hold it. Not even Kanna picked it up.

Zuko watched Sir leave. He wasn’t sure if Sir ever noticed he was awake. Zuko had a difficult time figuring him out. He was kind enough. Although he wasn’t allowed to sleep near Sir anymore, he still said goodnight. Sir taught him things like sit straight, don’t rub it, speak up. He would ask Zuko if he was ok a lot. Sir liked it the most when Zuko said he was in a good mood. But there were other times when Sir would be a little more cross. He had to learn do not do that and did you hear me. It didn’t take Zuko long to figure out he wasn’t supposed to eat snacks in his bedding or bring Mink Snakes into the house.

He laid a little longer and stretched out his legs. He could feel the sun move higher in the sky even with the pelt blocking the window. Next, Kanna woke. She made a lot of noise getting up. She waddled over to Zuko,

“Good morning, Early bird!” Gran- Gran bent the best she could. She planted a big wet kiss on his cheek. “Go get that pan hot now. I have something special for breakfast.”

Zuko threw off his furs eagerly. He ran over to the hearth throwing some fresh wood in. Gran- Gran had showed him how to use spark rocks. The small lights bounced around the wood until a tiny string of smoke appeared. Zuko cupped his hands and blew the fire to life.

“Well done. Now get Katara and Sokka up.”

“Yes!” Zuko hopped up and crouched to Katara’s side. “Katara time to wake up.” He patted her cheek softly. “Up, up.”

“Good morning, Zuko.” She smiled big.

“Good morning.” He smiled back.

Katara suddenly scrunched back down into the furs. “Mm! It’s too cold!”

Zuko reached behind him and pulled out the extra blanket Sir had given him. “Here.” He said in Fire’s Tongue.

Katara sat up. He wrapped the blanket around her. She nestled softening her expression. Some of her braid had come loose and the dark ringlets roamed around her. She looked at him with sleepy eyes. Zuko moved some of the hair from her face. If he kept doing it, he feared she would fall back asleep. He made sure he was nice to her when she woke up. Zuko regretted waking up Katara those nights when his mind wouldn’t cease showing him images of black water and screaming men. But Katara was there when he opened his eyes. Her small hands would grasp him and tell him he was safe. And he would feel safe. He wanted Katara to have the same feeling.

She pulled the thick material tightly around herself. “Thank you.”

Zuko stood and grabbed his pillow.

“What are you doing?” Katara yawned.

Zuko tossed the pillow at Sokka. The pillow made a satisfying thump. “Sokka! Wake up!”

Sokka made the noise of a dying Tiger Seal. “Go away!”

“Zuko be nice.” Kanna tutted.

“Sokka! Food. You help.”

“Cooking is women’s work.” Sokka abruptly sprang up. “Is that bacon?” His mouth watered.

“Sure is.” Kanna eyed smugly. “But maybe only us women and Zuko will get some.”

“You help cook or you help clean. Gran-Gran say.” Zuko teased.

“So you go help then Mr. Helpy-helper-head.” Sokka rolled back over.

When Katara went over the words for family, Zuko learned Sokka was her brother. Sokka still wasn’t open to Zuko being in the house. Zuko at first tried to get Sokka to like him but he just ended up being called names. Some of them he hadn’t learned yet, but he could tell they were mean. Sometimes he’d try to boss him around and Zuko would just pretend not to understand. Katara said he didn’t have to listen to Sokka anyway. There wasn’t much he knew about him besides that he liked meat and weapons. It seemed if he was not eating, he was practicing throwing his boomerang.

“You know the little ones can’t help with all the cooking yet. How do expect to feed yourself when you go hunting with your father?” Kanna said.

Sokka pouted taking the spatula. He mumbled something about “warrior’s sleep” watching the meat carefully.

"Watch out for the grease popping."

"I know. Ow!" Sokka jumped back.

Zuko and Katara laughed at him. Katara moved her arm to ask Zuko to join her. He sat and snuggled under the blanket. She was warm or he was warm. He didn’t know. But she was soft and her hair was soft and the blanket was soft. Zuko thought about building a house made out of a giant blanket. Then they could be warm forever.

Katara turned her attention to Zuko, "Guess what! Today is your last day wearing these.”

“Last day?” Zuko asked unfamiliar with the phrase.

“No more bandages!”

Zuko nodded. "That is good. Katara is happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Katara hugged him, “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes!” Zuko cheered.

…

Breakfast was amazing. Zuko would dream of the salty meat for weeks. Sokka had already joined the other boys in weapons lessons. Zuko sat with Katara to hear the story about the Wolf and the Raven. Gran-Gran was an amazing storyteller. She showed them tiny cards with painted pictures. They had to hold them carefully because they were very old. The lesson in the story was about working together. Zuko thought it was his favorite so far. Next was practicing writing his name. Katara could write his name better than him. He tried not to let it bother him. Katara said he would get better. He was a natural talent in sewing. Gran-Gran mended clothes so she could trade for goods around the village. Ms. Yise’s petty skirt was going to get lamp oil. Mr. Kursru’s parka would get more spark rocks. Then they were going to pick up the weekly rations of non-hunted food. Gran- Gran had tried to explain to him that tradesmen had brought some root vegetables from the Earth Kingdom. He didn’t know what they were or where the Earth Kingdom was, but Gran-Gran seemed excited. So he was too.

His excitement didn’t last long. Kehana, the healer had requested to see him. He didn’t like visiting her. She always looked at him like she had eaten something bitter. She was old like Gran-Gran but not at all inviting. He hated the ointment she put on him. It stung and smelled rotten. He hated her thin fingers and how they were so sharp he felt like they might poke right through him. But Katara always went with him. She held his hand and told Kehana when she was being too rough. He was lucky to have a friend like her.

“Almost done.” Katara squeezed his hand as Kehana prodded at his scar, “Then we’ll go deliver the clothes. Gran-Gran should be all done when we get back.”

“Ok.” Zuko winced as the brush irritated the freshly cleaned scar tissue.

“Can you be more gentle please.” Katara asked sweetly. Zuko sighed in relief.

Kehana glared but lessened the pressure. “Your father shouldn’t be letting you spend so much time with him.”

Katara creased her brow, “Huh?”

“You are around him too much. It isn’t right.”

Zuko didn’t like her tone. Katara held his hand tighter, “Zuko’s my friend!”

“I hope you remember that when the Fire Nation come back.” Kehana all but threw the brush back in the bowl. “This is the last time I want to see your unsightly face, boy.”

Zuko lip quivered. He took a deep breath. Deeper than he ever had before. “Be nice.”

“Do not dare speak to me!” Kehana snapped. Zuko scrambled back. Her rage felt too familiar.

Katara pulled Zuko up. “Come on Zuko, let’s go. We don’t need her anymore anyway.” She grabbed their parkas.

Kehana started ranting about how she had come so low in her life to end up treating a Fire nation child. “Stupid girl. Your mother thought she could talk to the Fire Nation as well. And now she is dead.”

Something in Katara’s chest lurched. “Miserable hag!” Katara kicked the ointment, splattering it on the wall. She hadn’t even buttoned up before she was dragging Zuko out of the hut.

Zuko stared at Katara’s uncovered head as he tried to cry silently. She was really upset, and he didn’t want to make her worry more. He wasn’t entirely sure of what Kehana said but he could feel it in his bones that she hated him. He felt like it was his fault she was mean to Katara. The tears fell harder. He could no longer conceal his sniffling. Katara stopped stomping and turned around. Her eyes were watery, and her face was twisted like he’d never seen before. For a moment he thought she was going to yell at him. She sighed and touched the edge of his scar.

“Don’t worry about her. You’re not ugly.”

Zuko shook his head. He didn’t know the right words to say in that moment, “I’m sorry.” Is all he could think of.

“You don’t need to be sorry. Kehana is just a meanie. An old stupid meanie…” She trailed off as tears slipped. She tried to blink them away. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about anyway! Mommy was trying to protect us!” Her voice cracked.

Zuko almost tackled her into a hug. Katara let loose and sobbed hard. She shuddered when he rubbed her back. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many questions he wanted to ask. There were still so many words he didn’t know. So he whispered Fire’s Tongue into her hair. He told her she was the nicest person ever. How she was brave for speaking up for him. And how beautiful she was when he first woke up. He thought she was a spirit of mercy and he still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t. Katara settled down and drew back a little. Zuko gently wiped her eyes. She hiccupped in some breaths before she fully regained herself. She put her hands on his face. Zuko could tell she was thinking about something.

“You’re not bad. I can tell. I’ve seen bad people. They hurt my mommy. I think they hurt you too.” She traced his scar again. “When my mommy died, I prayed for her to come back.” She shuttered again. Zuko put his hands on hers. “When it didn’t work, I prayed for a friend. There’s no one my age here and it felt like no one else understood…I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Katara teach me. So I can talk and make Katara feel better.” Zuko started to fasten her parka.

Katara smiled big. But tears came again. She threw her arms around his neck. “I knew when I heard you came from the ocean that La had saved you. And then Mommy had brought you here so that I wouldn’t be lonely anymore.”

“Lonely?” Zuko asked.

Katara looked at Zuko. “Don’t worry about that word. I’ll make sure you never have to know what it means.”

Zuko squished her cheeks making her giggle. “Friends.”

“Friends forever.” Katara put her forehead to his.

The night was easier after Gran-Gran reprimanded them for dawdling. She couldn’t have been too angry because she made cookies to celebrate Zuko not having to wear his bandages anymore. At bedtime, Katara insisted on sleeping in Zuko’s furs. Sir had no luck in trying to convince her otherwise. After their goodnight prayers and kisses, Katara cuddled close and Zuko closer. She fell asleep before him. He closed his eyes to follow.

“Friends forever.” He whispered into the darkness.

#zutara #zuko x katara #Zuko #young zuko #katara #young katara #sokka #young sokka #hakoda #kanna #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #alternate universe #cannon divergence #i own nothing #oc #baby zuko #sad katara

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paths-of-my-childhood-candid · 4 years

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Lover Conquers All

By: Mark Sutherland for Music Week Date: November 4th 2019 issue (published online on December 13th 2019)

She’s the world’s biggest pop star, but despite her global success, Taylor Swift is also the music industry’s greatest advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights. And, with a ground-breaking new record deal and a bold new album, Lover, she’s not about to stop now. Music Week meets her to talk music and business...

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast. Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time - helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover - reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now - having belatedly embraced the format with Lover - streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon - she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats - one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity - and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation - a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West - was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Aiwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here - she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover - from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry...

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music... Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have? It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time? Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now? I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal? That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums? In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ - there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future? I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect? Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age... Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest? Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out? That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years

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Fast Lane - Bang Chan Street Racer AU

Warnings: fluffy, suggestive themes, some angst (duh), Bang Chan (y’all know what I mean)

Word count: 6.8K+

If you guys don’t know what ‘F/N’ means, it means ‘friends name’

Your eyes focused on the girl walking in the middle, her shorts too short, high knee checkered socks on with a pair of checkered vans. She held two flags in her hands, as she was the keeper of their time. The engines revved, and people cheered.

You watched another car pull up, a jet black Bugatti Chiron. You knew who the owner was, everyone knew. He always had the newest, fastest cars, and because of that, he usually always won. Cheers got even louder a he began to pull up to the starting line, as it was going to start soon. He stepped out of the car and people greeted him, all with fake friendly smiles.

There was something about him you had always liked, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he never rejected anyone, always being super friendly towards anyone who came his way. It could be because the last person who crash and their car caught in fire, he was the one to pull them out, completely unafraid of the raging flames and the ungodly smell of the oil and gas leaking. Or it could be the way he made eye contact with you every time. When his eyes met yours, they held a type of want in them, the type that made your heart flutter.

It wasn’t the type of want that shone in the other guys eyes when they looked at women, no, not that. His eyes weren’t hungry, but curious. Curious like he wanted to know you, who you truly are, and not just the woman you’d be in bed. Your friend bumped you and giggled and you looked up, seeing his eyes on you.

He gave you one of his devilish side smiles, his dimple poking through his cheek. You blushed and smiled back, a little too shyly for your friends liking.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re beautiful! You need to be more confident!” She said.

She stopped and looked up and shook your shoulder excitedly as he looked at you again, before slipping into his car. The other racers entered their cars, all revving their engines. All bets were on Chan, people were throwing money towards his name like their lives depended on it. His car revved, a loud roar like a lions before the girl threw the flags down, and everyone flew past her. Chan’s car was so fast you couldn’t even see it take off in the dark night.

People cheered and cheered, you could hear everyone from the opposite side of the high way. Their loud cheers let you know that Chan was winning, and you could imagine his shiny black car flying down the highway with ease. The cheers began to pick up through the crowd, slowly making its way to where you were, like a domino effect. You watched Chan’s car gracefully glide through the finish line, which was messily spray painted on the road. Loud cheers and screams of his name echoed around you as he stepped out of his car, his light brown hair fell messily over a bandanna, his leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders in the most attractive way possible. (SEE GIF)

He smiled as everyone crowded around and and praised him, a bunch of girls in the tiniest clothing rubbing up his chest and shoulders. You turned back around, your attention on your friend as she talked to another racer, Minho. You felt dumb thinking he looked at you in interest, why would he? He has all those girls in those skimpy outfits all over him, so why would he waste a second glance on you? Minho seemed very interested in your friend, his dark eyes completely concentrated on her when she talked.

You went to turn towards the other racers, when your face almost met someone’s broad chest. You looked up and saw Chan standing there, a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you with his charming side smile.

“H-Hey.” You greeted back, feeling flustered at how close he suddenly was.

His cologne hit your sense and made your stomach flutter with butterflies. It was a nice scent, not too strong, the perfect amount to have your heart hammering in your chest and your stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his dark eyes trained on yours.

He was so close to you, his plump lips soft and looked wet, smelling of honey. He was wearing chapstick, and you were almost positive your heart was going to explode.

“Y/N.” You answered, your eyes finding his.

“I’m Chan.” He introduced himself.

“I know.” You said with a small giggle.

“Oh? Well I’ll tell you something you don’t know.” He said, leaning forward to say it lowly. “My birth name is Chris, Chan is just my Korean name. You can call me Chris if you want.”

Your face began to heat up and he smiled at you, his own heart fluttering. He thought it was cute how flustered you got, how shy you were.

“Wanna go for a spin?” He asked, pointing towards his car.

“I would love too, but I’m not at all into the um... Extremely fast stuff.” You said awkwardly.

He let out a small laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

“I wouldn’t go fast like that with precious cargo in my car.” He said.

Your face turned bright red at his words, and you felt your friend nudge you forward. Her eyes were encouraging you, and you saw encouragement towards Chan in Minho’s eyes.

“I’ll meet you back at your place later.” She said, motioning her eyes towards Minho, indicating she was going somewhere with him.

You nodded as Chan led you to his car, unlocking the doors and opening the passenger door for you. The car doors open upwards, and he smiled at you as he closed it for you.

Such a gentleman.

He got in on the drivers side, and you felt him reach across you. Your heart hammered into your chest as he pulled on the seat belt and buckled you in. He paused as his face was directly in front of you, a small smile on his face.

“It gets caught a lot. Gotta keep you safe though.” He said with a sweet smile.

He sat back in his seat and slipped his own seat belt on, and you felt some sort of relief knowing he did so. He pulled away from the races, people still cheering when they watched his car glide down the highway. You were relieved as he kept his promise, not going too fast. Yeah he was decently above the speed limit, but it was the normal “there’s no traffic so I can do what I want” speed.

“So, where are you from?” He asked.

“(Hometown/Country).” You answered.

“Wow, really? I’m from Sydney Australia.” He said.

“That explains the accent.” You giggled.

“Hm? Do you like accents?” He asked.

“I like yours.” You said.

You realized a little too late what you said, but the smile that stretched across his face made your heart flutter. His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed he kept slide glancing at you.

He pulled up to a calm lake and opened your door. You stepped out and he smiled at you as he lead you along the lake, the cool breeze becoming bitter against your skin, as you were wearing a light sweater. He seemed to notice you shiver and took off his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. You noticed he was wearing a short sleeved white shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and blushed.

“It’s cold and you’re wearing a T-shirt-“ you started, attempting to take off his jacket.

“I’ll be fine, I like cooler weather.” He said, his hands over yours to stop you from taking his jacket off.

You smiled at him and slipped your arms through the sleeves, loving how big it was on you. His eyes sparkled as he watched you walk around with his jacket in, admiring how the bottom brushed your thighs. He walked closely to you, his cologne hitting you from where he was, and from his jacket. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting an ethereal glow. Not only was the reflection ethereal, but so was Chris. The way the moonlight hit the side of his face and lit up his handsome features made your heart throb.

He took you to an opened spot over looking the lake, sitting on the grass. You sat beside him and looked around, admiring all the of the flowers and willow trees beautifully decorating the scene. He looked at you, his eyes taking in all of your features. Your cute nose, your beautiful eyes, your kissable lips, all of it. You turned your head and looked at him, giving him a sweet smile that made his heart pound a mile a minute.

“I always come here to ease my mind when I’m stressed or over thinking. I figured I’d share it with you.” He said with a soft smile.

“You’re so generous.” You giggled, looking at the water that was gently moving along.

You both remained silent for bit, enjoying each other’s company as you admired how beautiful the spot was. He slowly stood up, flashing you that handsome side grin. (YA’LL KNOW WHICH ONE.)

‘It’s getting late princess, I should bring you back.” He said.

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as you stood up, following him to his car. He opened the door and lifted it for you again, his eyes on you as you sat down in the passenger seat. He made his way to the drivers side, sitting down and looking at you with a sweet smile.

You told him your address and he drove to your house, his eyes glancing over at you as he played low music. You heard him sing and you smiled, your eyes landing on his plump lips.

“You have a beautiful voice,” You said.

“No voice is more beautiful than yours.” He said with a small smile, grabbing your hand and kissing it as his eyes stayed on the road.

When you got out front of your apartment, you turned towards him and gave him a sweet smile.

“Thank you for tonight, here, you should take your jacket back.” You said, going to take your jacket off.

“Don’t take it off, hold onto it. Now you have to come see me at the races in a few days to give it back.” He said with a sweet smile.

“I’d be there even without it.” You said with a smile.

He kissed your hand again and waited until you were inside to drive off, making sure you were safe. “Y/N!”

You jumped and turned around, your eyes wide as you stared at F/N. She had a big smile on her face as she looked at you, grabbing your hands excitedly.

“What happened? Did he go fast the whole time? Did he kiss you? Is that his jacket? OOOO, DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?” She bombarded you with questions and you laughed, shaking your head.

“No I didn’t sleep with him dummy, and yes this is his jacket. He kissed my hand and told me to hang on to it and that now I have to be at the races in a few days to give it back.” You said with a big grin. “What about you and Minho?”

“He took me to get food then we walked around for a bit, he’s so sweet! EEK! We have to go to the races!” She said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Trust me, we’re definitely going.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You stood with F/N as you both had gone to the races again a few days later. Minho was getting ready as he stood and talked to you both, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and F/N. Minho had a cold demeanor, but he was so sweet when it came down to your friend. He looked at you for a moment and smiled, pointing with his face. You looked over and saw Chan approaching you, his soft eyes trained on you.

“Still wearing my jacket I see.” He said with a sweet smile, another leather jacket on his body.

You nodded and took it off, handing it to him. He took it back, making you feel rather sad, but he slid the one he had on from around his shoulders and put it on you, a small smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a giggle,

“That one is warm and smells more like me, and this one? It smells like you, now it’s my lucky charm, and so are you.” He said, kissing your hand and giving you a charming smile.

Hoots and hollers came from the men around you, all cheering Chan on as he was talking to you. You noticed a couple jealous glances from some of the girls around you, but you pushed it away as your eyes met Chan’s.

“Cheer me on, yeah?” He asked, turning away.

“Always.” You said.

He looked back at you and smiled as he hopped back into his car, revving the engine and lining up at the starting line. The girl who always started them walked in the middle, her eyes finding yours as she gave you a smile. She threw the flags down and the cars took off, flying down the highway. She walked over to you and you felt F/N tense, wondering if she was going to give you trouble.

“You’re the girl Chan has been raving about?” She asked. “Y/N?”

“U-Uh yeah.” You responded, feeling a little intimidated by her beauty.

“Ah, good! I’m Yenna, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Chan will treat you great! He’s a sweetheart, and really picky with his women.” She said with a big smile.

You felt F/N relax and you did too, giving her a big smile.

��It’s nice to meet you Yenna, I’m Y/N and this is F/N.” You said, introducing you and your friend.

“F/N? Like the girl Minho fawns over?” She asked.

“Yup! That’s me!” F/N said proudly.

You and Yenna giggled at her response, before you both turned to loud cheers. Chan was in first place, his car flying towards the finish line.

“GO CHAN!’ You yelled happily, the other two cheering with you.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line and pulled over to the side. He stepped out and people swarmed him. But he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes wandered until they landed on you, a smile stretching across his face as he walked through the crowd and approached you. You walked over to him and met him half way, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gave you his charming half smile.

“I told you that you’re my good luck charm.” He purred.

“You would’ve won anyways.” You giggled.

“Not without you.” He whispered.

He looked at F/N and smiled as she giggled as she pushed at Minho’s chest, and you could tell he was taking her home tonight.

“I’ll bring Y/N home.” Chan said.

Her eyes brightened as she nodded and gave you a thumbs up as she hopped in her car, following Minho out to his house. You had your own car, but you often left it at home, as F/N liked to drive.

He once again opened your door for you, then hopping into the drivers seat. His eyes were on yours as he reached over and fastened your seat belt, your eyes on his plump lips as he did so. He smiled down at you and then put his own seat belt on before taking off, his eyes fixed on the road. You admired his face as it focused, his eyes completely scanning the road as drove. He gave you a quick glance and smiled as he drove towards your place, surprisingly remembering where it was. He pulled up and smiled at you, and you nodded your head towards your apartment.

“Wanna come in? We can hangout for a bit if you want.” You said with a smile.

He quickly nodded and parked his car, following you into your apartment. Chan looked around as you led him inside, a smile on his face.

“You and F/N are like sisters, huh?” He asked, noticing all of the pictures the two of you had up on your walls.

“Yeah, she practically lives here too, she took over the guest room.” You laughed.

“Sound’s like a best friend, actually, it sounds like my friend Felix. You’ve seen him, right? He’s usually with me, but he’s away right now. He’ll be back for the next race.” He said.

“I’ve seen him a few times. He’s the skinny one with the pudgy cheeks, right?” You asked.

Chan laughed and nodded.

“He’s pretty muscular for being skinny.” He laughed.

“Oh? You stare at your friends body?” You asked.

“Not like that! We just workout together. Him, Changbin, Jisung, and I.” He laughed.

“You workout?” You asked, giggling.

“Yeah, wanna see?” He asked, raising his shirt a bit, some of his muscle showing.

“Chan!” You yelped, turning around and covering your blushing face.

He laughed and shook his head, amusement in his eyes.

“I’m only teasing you.” He giggled, ruffling your hair. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.

‘Yeah yeah yeah.” You muttered, pouting as your cheeks remained red.

“What? I’m serious. You really are cute Y/N.” He said with a smile.

“Yah! Stop!” You yelled, your cheeks turning redder.

He pinched your cheeks and you yelped, making him chuckle.

“Such a cutie!” He laughed.

You pushed his hands off and ran away from him, making him giggle as he grabbed you by your waist. You yelped as you lost your footing from him grabbing you, causing you to fall. He quickly caught you and went down instead, landing sitting up. You straddled his waist, your cheeks bright red as he looked at you, an innocent smile on his face. He giggled as you struggled to find your words, his hand gently cupping your chin and pulling it foreword, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Chan’s kissed were better than you imagined (Yes, you had imagined his plump lips on your own) and tasted of milk and honey. You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss as both of your lips molded together. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands were around your waist as you gave him entry to your mouth, his tongue quickly finding yours and dancing with your own. You lied about his kisses being good, because they were the best you’ve ever fucking had, they were perfect. His tongue quickly won the dominance fight, but it never stopped it elegant, yet sloppy waltz with your own. You let out a tiny moan as your hips rolled against his own, making him let out a low grunt, his finger digging into your hips. Your fingers clutched his shirt tightly, making it wrinkled. His collar bones were exposed as you bunched his shirt in your fists, tiny whimpers leaving your mouth as your tongue’s continued to press into each other.

He pulled away and panted, trying to catch his breath. His dark eyes were full of desire, but they held so much adoration in them that your heart fluttered.

“As much as I’d love to see every bit of you and make you mine, I think I should take you on a date first.” He rasped, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“I’d love that.” You giggled, letting go of his shirt and rubbing along his chest to get the wrinkles out.

He had a built chest, and you blushed as your hands ran along it to help him get it to look normal again. He grabbed your hands and pressed kisses to both of them, his eyes full of affection.

“How about in two days? I’ll take you on a date.” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Perfect” You giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You looked down at your outfit, smiling as you admired how the tight, ripped jeans hugged your ass and hips, looking elegant on your legs. You wore a black shirt with a logo beneath (Use your imagination) with Chan’s leather jacket as a top. Your cute black boots looked good with the outfit, making you smile. You heard F/N come in and squealed as she looked you up and down.

“You look great Y/N!” She squealed.

“Thank you!” You giggled, admiring your dark make up, your (Straightened/curled) hair, and your outfit. You heard the door bell rang and hopped down the stairs, opening the door and seeing Chan. His eyes met yours and he gave you a big smile, walking into your apartment.

“You look ethereal.” He breathed, his eyes bright.

“So do you.” You giggled.

His brown hair was parted, his plump lips moistened with chapstick. He wore another leather jacket, a black under shirt, and tight, ripped jeans that had a chain hanging from them, and black combat boots. You admired him as he smiled at you, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

He drove to a park along the river, a bunch of vendors with food trucks and a park area with lights and hammocks along it.

(This is Penn’s landing, it’s close to where I live and I love going there) (For more visual representation, look up ‘Penn’s landing harbor park’)

Chan walked along with you, the night sky lit up by all the lights. Chan led you to a truck, a smile on his lips.

“This is the best one.” He said.

You both ordered and he paid, insisting he was the one taking you on a date. You both sat down and ate, your eyes admiring all of the lights and the hammocks, seeing all of the couples laying inside of them. Chan noticed and chuckled, leading you towards one when the two of you finished eating. He laid in it first, pulling you in with him. Your body was on top of his, his arms around you. You blushed and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heart hammering against his chest and giggling. He blushed a little bit, letting out a small laugh through his nose.

“Don’t make fun of me, I get nervous too.” He said with a soft chuckle.

“Awe, you’re nervous Channie? You’re so cute.” You giggled.

He groaned and pulled you closer, burying his face into your hair. You giggled and closed your eyes, his warmth making you feel at home as your pounding heart began to relax. His fingers began to thread through your hair, his other hand running up and down your back as you melted into him, his touch leaving sparks wherever they were. He pressed soft kisses to your hair, making you smile.

“Thank you for tonight, Chan. I loved every minute of it.” You whispered.

“It’s not the end.” He said softly, looking up at the sky.

You looked up, admiring the thousands of stars over head as a loud boom filled your ears, and bright colors lit up the sky. You watched in awe, your head rested on his chest as the fireworks boomed over head in different colors. His fingers traced circles on your hips as he admired your face, half illuminated by the fireworks. He smiled at you, his eyes full of affection. You looked back at him and smiled, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

After the fireworks he led you to his car, as always, opening your door as you got in. He hopped into the drivers seat and fixed your seat belt for you, this time stealing a quick kiss before he pulled away. You blushed and giggled as he fastened his own seat belt, a sweet smile on his face. He pulled away from the park, heading back to your apartment, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he did so.

He took the highway back, as it was quicker and he didn’t want to keep you out too late, as you had work the next day. He got off at an exit, hitting a light before heading to another part of the highway. You heard revving and looked over, seeing two guys on motorcycles looking at you. A few more pulled up behind you and on Chan’s side. You saw his jaw tighten and his eyes narrowed. His eyes watched the light before he quickly turned his head and looked at you, his eyes dark.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Chan what-”

“Do you trust me?” He repeated.

You slowly nodded and he tightened your seat belt. When the light turned green, his foot slammed down on the pedal, literally putting the pedal to the metal. His car flew and you closed your eyes, covering your face with your hands. You heard the motorcycles in the distance, seemingly following you for awhile.

“Hang on Y/N.” Chan said as he took a sudden turn, the motorcycles passing the turn due to going too fast.

Chan kept up with his quick speed until he knew they were gone and he slowed down. He sighed in relief as he looked over at you. Your feet were on the seat, your hands pressed to your knees as your eyes were covered by them. He slowly reached his hand out and rubbed your thigh, a soft exhale coming from him.

“It’s over babygirl, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He said gently.

You slowly uncovered your eyes, fear making them wide. His gentle hand rubbed up and down your thigh, his gentle voice relaxing you as he reassured you it was over and done with.

“It’s okay babygirl, it’s okay.”

When you pulled up to your house Chan got out, opening your door. He followed you up your stairs to your apartment, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I’m so sorry about that babygirl, I really am. I didn’t know that would happen - fuck - I’m so sorry.” He said softly, kissing the back of your shoulder.

“Chan, what was that?” You asked.

“I raced their friend two years ago and he crashed and died, and they haven’t left me alone ever since.” He said softly.

You turned and looked at him, a lost look on his face as he looked down at you. You cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, then his forehead.

“It’s not your fault Chan. Not what happened to their friend or what happened tonight.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, a hopeful look in his eye.

“So, you’ll stick around with me? You’ll still go on dates with me?” He asked.

“I trust you Chan, more than you’d ever realize.” You said with a smile.

“I’m glad. You should get some sleep, I’ll see you for the races?” He suggested, his eyes bright.

“Of course you will silly, and you should sleep too. Your eye bags are bag.” You said, running your fingers along his left eye.

He kissed your hand and gave you a sweet smile. “Anything for you, my dear.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A lot of people showed up for this specific race, and you realized why. The guys that had followed you were in the races, this time in cars. The one that had pulled up directly next to your side looked at you, his eyes narrowed on you. You tried to ignore him, to keep your back to him, but your worry for Chan grew strong, making you feel sick to your stomach. Chan walked up with someone else, and you recognized Felix immediately.

“Great, they’re here. I thought they would’ve given up by now.” He grumbled, irritation in his eyes.

Chan walked over to you and pulled you in by your waist, your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t pay attention to them love, and stay with all of your friends.” He said softly.

“Please don’t race tonight Chan. They’re after you.” You begged, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I’ll be find, I promise.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and held him tightly, anxiety pricking at you. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes, a reassuring smile on his face.

“I’ll be careful babygirl.” He said, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll protect him, no worried.” Felix said with a big smile.

You smiled back at him and nodded, giving Felix a hug too.

“Be safe Felix.” You said.

Chan smiled at you as he and Felix walked to their cars, hopping in and putting their seat belts on. You turned when you heard F/N calling for Minho to come back, fear on her face. Minho passed you and you looked at him, worry matching F/N’s.

“Be safe out there Minho.” You said.

“I will be, I have to do this. I can’t let them all go in like that without me.” He said.

He opened his door and slid into his seat, pulling his seat belt across his body. He revved his engine as Yenna stepped between the cars, anxiety on her face as she did so. You saw Hyunjin looking at her, anger in his eyes at the fact she was still doing it, despite the other guys being obviously dangerous. She mustered up her courage and put a smile on, dropping the flags as everyone shot passed her. She sighed in relief as they all passed, but turned around and watched them, worry across her face.

“Yenna!” F/N called.

Yenna went to the both of you, worrying plastered on her pretty face.

“I’m so scared.” She whispered, tears brimming her eyes.

“We are too, but I know they’ll protect each other.” F/N said confidently.

“You were really brave for still holding those flags Yenna.” You said, rubbing her shoulder.

She gave you both a thankful smile and pulled you both into a hug, comforting the three of you. The continues cheers going on from the opposite side had you biting your nails in anticipation, anxious for Chan’s car to appear. Your heart leaped through your chest when you saw it, but noticed something wrong. His back bumper looked like it had been hit, and he sped through the finish line quickly, followed by another car and Felix’s car. You recognized the car as the man’s from earlier and the other night, and also noticed his front bumper had some damage. You gasped when you realized he must’ve hit Chan, and was now after him. Felix kept pushing his car closer the other, trying to get him off of Chan.

“Felix!” You gasped as the opposites car hit the side of his own, sending him straight into a pole.

His car flipped into a ditch and you took off, your feet pounding against the ground.

“Y/N!” F/N and Yenna both called for you.

You saw Chan's car skid next to the spot where the ditch was. He hopped out of the car, his divers side door wide open and his car siting in the middle of the road as he went straight down into the ditch. You ran to the top of the ditch and saw Chan ripping the door open, his eyes on Felix, whose eyes were closed as he was dangling from the seat belt.

“Felix!” Chan called for his friend, jumping into the car on it’s side and unbuckling him.

Chan started to lift him out as Minho and Hyunjin ran past you, quickly grabbing Felix as Chan had to haul himself out. They quickly moved him away from the car, as it was smoking. Chan dropped down beside him and cradled his head, his breathing heavy as he held Felix’s face. You noticed Felix’s eyes opened and he gave Chan a pained smiled.

“You idiot! Why would you do that?” Chan asked, his voice shaking.

“I finally know what’s it’s like to have a brother, and we brother’s protect each other.” Felix rasped out.

Chan held him tightly, soaking his hoodie in blood as he cradled Felix.

“All of you go.” Chan said lowly.

“Hyung-” Hyunjin started.

“Go! An ambulance is on the way, I don’t want any of you getting in trouble.” Chris yelled.

Hyunjin was about to protest when Yenna put her hands on his chest, meaning for him to listen to Chan. Hyunjin let out a small sob as he looked at Felix one more time and allowed Yenna to lead him away. F/N gently rubbed Minho’s shoulder as he let a few tears slip down his face before gently pulling him away.

“You should go too.” He said to you.

You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you nodded. You bent down and kissed his cheek, your hand holding Felix’s gently. Felix gave you a pained smile before he let out a small whimper, blood trickling from his mouth. You slipped your hand onto Chan’s cheek as you looked at him.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” You whispered, before allowing Minho and F/N to bring you to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It’s been two days since Felix’s accident, and you haven’t heard from Chan. You had tried texting and calling him, but he never picked up, and the others were having the same luck. You wracked your brain, trying to find out a way to see him, as you never been to his place. A thought popped into your head and you grabbed your car keys, heading out the door.

You parked your car across from the lake, quickly getting out and walking to the spot that Chan had showed you. You sighed in relief when you saw him sitting there. His knees were up and his arms were resting on them, his face buried into his arms. You slowly walked over and bent down in front of him, rubbing his arms. He quickly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart dropped when you saw the dark circles around his eyes, the whites of his eyes bloodshot.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“I’m here.” You whispered, getting on your knees between his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You felt his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your chest. You stroked his hair and kissed his head, holding him tightly.

“Everyone’s been so worried Chan, I’ve been worried.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry I just... Couldn’t face anyone.” He whispered into your chest.

“Chan, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” You said.

You felt him flinch at your words, then his arms tightened around you as you felt something wet on your neck. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying, crying because he had been blaming himself. You cradled him in your arms tightly, tears filling your own eyes.

“Chan it isn’t your fault, I promise.” You said softly.

“I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. He’s still alive, and he’s going to fully recover.” You whispered.

It was true, after surgery, Felix was said to make a full recovery. He had been awake after his surgery, and you, F/N, Yenna, Minho, and Hyunjin had been there to see him, along with Changbin, Jisung, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

“I know it’s just... He got hurt because of me.” He whispered.

“It wasn’t because of you, Chan. It was because of that man. And I know you would’ve done the same for him, so please stop blaming yourself. You pulled him out of a smoking car, and not many people would do that. And in fact, no one else rushed to help him. You saved him, Chan.” You pointed out, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears.

It was the first time you’ve seen him look so defeated, deep bags, messy hair, and a sad face. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on your chest, soft sobs leaving his lips. You held him and whispered comforting words into his ear as he clutched you tightly, before pulling away and wiping his eyes.

“They’re participating in another race tomorrow, and said if I win they’ll leave everyone alone.” He said.

He watched your face drop, your eyes scanning his. How could he risk himself again?

You felt him pull you into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’ll be careful babe, please, just have faith in me. That’s all I need.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and nodded, hugging him tightly. He held you to him before pulling away and cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. You leaned into his kiss, the kiss sending tingles down to your toes.

“As long as I have you, my sweet luck charm, I can do anything”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You, Yenna, and F/N once again found yourselves biting your fingers, anxiety eating the three of you as the boys lined their cars up. Chan got out and walked over to you as you took off his leather jacket and swapped it with the other. He had a soft smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, his face burying into your hair.

“Be safe.” You whispered.

“I will, I promise.” He said softly, pecking your lips.

His warm eyes held your gaze as he stroked your cheek before walking towards his car. You watched Minho kiss F/N’s forehead and Hyunjin placed a loving kiss to Yenna’s lips before they walked away to enter their cars. Yenna looked scared to hold the flags, so you grabbed them, looking Yenna in her eyes.

I have to give Chan confidence and courage.

You stepped between the front of the cars, your eyes on Chan’s. He stared at you, undeniably mad, but also understanding. The others looked at you with admiration as you raised the flags, then dropped them.

You closed your eyes as the cars flew by you, making your hair whip in the breeze. Please be safe, all of you.

You opened your eyes and walked back towards Yenna and F/N, and they both praised you on your bravery. But you had to be brave for Chan, you just had too. The three of you waited anxiously, pressed close to each other as you heard screams and cheers from the other side. You bounced your leg fluidly as you bit your finger, just wanting to see Chan’s car. Just wanting to see ANY of their cars. Your heart leaped into your throat when you saw Chan’s car in the front, the opposites right behind, but surrounded by Hyunjin’s car and Minho’s car. They had locked him in.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line first, loud screams filling the area. Chan pulled over and got out, followed by Minho and Hyunjin. You ran to Chan, your heart beating through your chest as you leaped into his strong arms. He caught you and held you tightly, smiling up at you. You grabbed his face and kissed his lips, relief filling you as you felt his touch. You leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching.

“I told you, all I needed was you to have faith in me.” He whispered.

You smiled and kissed his lips again, warmth spreading through you to your toes, a feeling you were growing used too. The other man’s car pulled close to the crowd and he got out, face pissed.

“You all cheated! You can’t trap me in!” He yelled.

“It’s also cheating to play bumper cars while racing. Now get out.” Minho said sharply, stepping in front of Chan, Hyunjin stepping in on the other side.

All of Chan’s fans agreed, making the mans face turn red.

“Fine. A deals a deal.” He growled before taking off.

You heard your phone go off and saw a facetime from Jisung, as you had exchanged numbers. You answered and saw Jisung’s face, Changbin behind him, and a clear shot Felix sitting in his hospital bed.

“How did it go?” Jisung asked, worry in his voice.

“We won.” Chan said with a smile.

You saw Felix smile as Jisung moved the camera to him, his eyes sparkling.

“I knew you’d win hyung.” He said.

“When I have you guys to protect, of course I will.” He said softly, his eyes landing on you. “I’m glad you’re getting better little brother. You can rest easy now.” He said.

“I can rest easy knowing I can always find you.” Felix said warmly before hanging up.

Chan smiled, tears in his eyes as he lifted you back up, kissing your lips.

“Thank You, Y/N, for giving me strength and courage.” He said softly.

“I’ll do it anytime, any day, in a heartbeat.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and held you close, his heart beating against your ear.

“You’ll always be my lucky charm, my love.”

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trying-write-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 23 Remember

They got to the empty dorms. The remainder of the walk back they agreed they would keep things in the down low, not only because of the class/ assumed rules, but they were each other’s first not girlfriend/boyfriend. Just to say that out loud was overwhelming.

Y/n sat on the kitchen counter as Shouji cleaned her neck wound. She told him he didn’t have to worry anymore since Dallas did get caught. He held the back of her head as he dabbed the wound with a washcloth. She even told him the full story about how Dallas tried to kill her, but she didn’t seem too bothered by that fact.

“You don’t hate him?” Shouji asked.

“No, he was losing his mind. No one was giving him a second chance like I got here.” she told him.

Shouji didn’t feel the same. He hated the fact how easy it was for Y/n to be put in danger, no phone, lost in a mall, and doesn’t have a quirk to depend on. That wasn’t completely true, she did hold her own with her combat skills, but looking at those marks she didn’t use them, probably because it was Dallas, her knight that let her escape her tower.

“He still shouldn’t have sliced your neck like that.” Shouji put a bandage on the wound.

“Well he’s going to jail, so you won’t have to worry your handsome, big heart anymore.”

“Han- you don’t think anyone else would be after you?” He asked her.

“You’re on edge aren’t you?”

“This wouldn't be the first time that my class was targeted.”

“Oh yeah, the USJ, I doubt the people I worked with are connected with them. They were mostly drug dealers and thieves, not like assault people or murders...I hope.” She told him.

“You don’t know?”

“I knew the inner circle, but I wasn’t a part of it. I didn’t even get anything when we were robbing. I was just happy to be in something like gym class again.” She told him, sliding off the counter. “I’m sure if they told me they killed someone they knew it would scare the crap out of me.”

She took Shouji’s hand and twirled herself off the kitchen tile. Completely unafraid of his appearance. Y/n dramatically stuck her landing like she was a ballerina, or maybe she was. Shouji was learning all the things he didn’t know about her.

“You think if I never got my ass beat by Aizawa, that one day you would have to arrest me and it would be like enemies to lovers kinda deal?” She asked him. “Because when I first saw you I knew I wanted to converse with you.”

“Maybe when I’m reading you your rights you would get me with your Y/n charm lines.” he laughed.

“Damn, guess I gotta stay on the straight and narrow if I wanna keep you around.” She joked.

Though Shouji was wearing a mask, his hand naturally felt the need to cover his face. He didn’t think that he really turned a criminal into changing sides because of his so called “good looks”, but it was still fun. Their feelings were said, and now they could just be young students with their feelings out in the open with one another.

They found themselves sitting on the couch. Y/n was leaning into his chest with her legs up. His hand was resting on her knee as she painted his nails black and told him silly ideas and concepts about just general topics.

“You and Tokoyami are probably the most goth boys in the class.” she said.

“What group do you fit into?” he asked.

“I guess technically since I was friends with Brittany, I was a popular mean girl, but I didn’t pick on people that much. Just a couple of guys who ruined my locker, so I never got over that.”

“How did they ruin it?”

“I was just getting my books and they were spraying their water bottles at each other, the water got all over my binders and homework. Losing my crap I ruined their chances of dating two of my gorgeous friends Regina and Brittany and I would insult them everyday, they didn’t even try to apologize.”

“Did anyone even want to date Brittany ?” He asked her, not really fond of that name.

“Yeah, she had a pool, and her mom packed her lunches so full that she always shared with Regina and I. Her mom always got the fancy snacks.” Y/n explained.

Those things did raise status in the eyes of middle schoolers.

“Isn’t your family loaded?’ he asked her.

“Doesn’t mean they wanna spend that money on me!’ She laughed. “But I guess since I have my mom’s credit card I could give the dorms a pool.”

“We already have one, but you need permission.” he told her.

“I need a pool of my own just to piss off Aizawa.” she told him.

“During the USJ attack I actually had to carry him. The fighting got real bad when there was this thing that looked like a bird with a brain sticking out of it.” He told her.

“Aizawa got hurt by a what?”

“If I remember right they were called a NOMU.” he told her.

“Huh. Do you think you need therapy from carrying your teacher’s almost corpse?”

“The school has counselling sessions I’ve used once.” he told her. “They got a little off track.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked in the same tone he asked about the cut on her neck.

“Maybe later.” he ruffled her hair.

It was nice how Y/n let Shouji communicate with his touch. How nice it must be to have a mutual crush with feelings open and there. Y/n took the hand she just painted and pressed his palm to her cheek.

“I think black is your color.” She told him. “That and pale blue looks good on you.”

“It’s because of your talent for painting nails.” He told her.

Y/n went to his next hand and started painting it pale blue. His arms kept her legs and feet warm as she painted. He was just enjoying her talk about silly things. It was calming for him. Typically he would rather just have silence, but Y/n was special. He wanted to learn more and listen to her. Some of the class began coming into the dorm door. They were all shocked at the sight.

Yeah Y/n and Shouji seemed close, but the first glance seemed like they were cuddling just out in the open, but two more seconds they saw she was painting Shouji’s nails. Weird, and they were confused, was there a move made or not?

“What are you two doing?” Iida asked.

“I’m painting Shouji’s nails, what does it look like?” Y/n said.

Like they were cuddling. Shouji’s arms were around her legs for crying out loud.

“Like you’re making me jealous.” Mineta said.

“Why is Y/n painting your nails?” Momo asked.

“She offered.” Shouji said.

Y/n and Shouji may have only known each other for a short while, fell hard for one another, but they had an unspoken language and that was, don’t announce the relationship to the class just yet.

“Are we still on for movie night?” Y/n asked.

“You look like you’re feeling better after getting attacked.” Jirou said.

“It nice having wonderful friends who support you.” She told them.

#Shouji Mezou #shouji mezo #shoji mezo #xreader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha shoji #mezo x reader #shoji x reader #mha x reader #series

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bananaofswifts · 4 years

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Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast.

Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time – helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover – reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now – having belatedly embraced the format with Lover – streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon – she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats – one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity – and ready to talk business.

Even better, while Reputation – a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West – was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Alwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here – she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover – from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date – her songwriting has gone to a new level. I adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music…

“Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.”

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have?

“It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.”

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time?

“Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.”

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now?

“I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.”

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal?

“That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.”

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums?

“In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ – there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.”

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future?

“I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.”

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect?

“Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.”

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age…

“Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!”

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest?

“Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.”

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out?

“That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!”

#taylor swift #all intreview

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