#I always feel silly blathering on about myself like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Just Friends - Part 6

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: a bit spicy at the end word count: 6.7k

A.N:

I’m putting a short pause on this series. because it’s October: 1) kinktober; 2) Halloween drabbles

next part will be j u i c y

I listen to Erutan while writing

THANK YOU SO MUCH to those who leave wonderful comments in the chapters. I always read them and get silly happy

Lmk if you want to be part of the taglist

I accidentally deleted this chapter. I hate myself

Part 5 | Part 7 | m.list

Your eyes alternate among the four men who are blathering in front of you. You’ve been in events like this before, so interacting with guests isn’t a problem for you. But this. This is mayhem. Much of what they’re saying doesn’t make sense to you. You’re pretty sure that they introduced themselves, but their names didn’t stick because one would interrupt the other before they’re even comprehensible.

Despite them towering over you (except for the orange-haired guy who’s a tad shorter than the rest), they seem like boys squabbling over who gets to talk to the pretty girl first. You had to press your lips together as a disguise of a civil smile, but in reality, you’re stifling a laugh from leaking out. It would be rude since they’re guests as well.

The laugh stuck in your throat instantly evaporates when you see a familiar figure approaching, a figure you know all too well. You try to get a clearer picture, but he turns to the blonde-haired guy, only revealing his side and back profile to you.

You lose awareness of the other four from before. Your eyes are solely focused on him, waiting for him to face you so you can confirm that you aren’t daydreaming. Before you left Japan, it was frequent that you saw him in certain places you go, but it was just actually your brain conjuring his images to fill in the void you felt.

Being out of the country, the daydreams stopped. And now that you’re back, right on your 1st day in Japan, you’re back to seeing illusions? That can’t be. It’s been months for Christ’s sake. You’ve moved on. Maybe it was just someone with the same build, or ..

“I’m so sorry about th-”

Or it really was him.

You definitely aren’t hallucinating. But damn. You aren’t prepared for Kuroo to appear before you, and more so, you aren’t prepared for how he’s looking exceptionally good tonight. He’s donning a formal black suit with a red tie which you haven’t seen him in before. It was always shirt and pants. In his graduation party, it was just long sleeve polo in navy blue and black denim that he wore. You didn’t think much of it. You thought ruggedness was part of his charm. But no. This refined ensemble also suits him. It suits him too damn well.

You can’t believe it. It’s been months and yet, the sexual pull he has on you is still intact.

“Sorry about them.” He says with the signature mischievous grin he has.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ was what you want to say, but you’re on official business. You peek at the four boys, and just as you thought, they’re staring.

You give your rehearsed smile and bow. This is not the time and place for a reunion. You pray that he gets the drift.

Of course, he doesn’t. You become alarmed when he advances directly face to face with you. You take a step back to provide enough space between you two. You can’t have him too close. However, he still catches up. Before you can even react, his hand is already in your hair as his fingers tuck the strands behind your earlobe.

“How’re you, kitten?”

The feel of his skin directly on yours, despite being the lightest of touch, stirs something wistful in you. It gives you unwanted and unnecessary recollections of his graduation party.

You scold yourself mentally. Like you told yourself a while ago, this is not the time and place. When you look around, you see that the blonde and black and white guy was gaping in shock while the remaining two look puzzled.

He hasn’t changed. Still an expert on taking advantage of a situation to make you lose composure. Does he think that you’re going to let him do as he pleases?

Hell no.

You give your best goody-girl impression and beam at him.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” You say in perfect English, your pitch higher than your usual talking voice. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.” You add. Kuroo’s brows raise at your trivial retort. You peek at the boys to see their reactions. It was priceless.

The blonde guy is slouching, his face buried on the shoulder of the orange boy while his own shoulders are shaking. Orange boy is shushing him. The black and white guy doesn’t bother hiding his boisterous laughing. The black-haired stern guy looks repulsively at Kuroo.

You can’t tell if they understood the whole phrase, but the ‘who are you’ is basic. You’re sure they got that one at least. You turn your eyes to him again and purse your lips to the side. You tilt your head a bit and flutter your eyes in a demure manner.

He grits his teeth as he shoots daggers at the four. “Scram now. Before I report you to your manager.”

“Introduce yourself okay, Kuroo?” Black and white calls out and laughs while walking away. The blonde guy joins him, letting out his suppressed laughter while hitting black and white’s back.

After they’re out of sight, Kuroo’s attention is on you again. His irritation is gone and is replaced with amusement that twinkled in his eyes.

“I didn’t know you spoke English.”

You look down and drop the doe-eyed act. In just one blink, your eyes are sharp and your lips curled into a corner. You cross your arms before meeting his gaze.

��Since childhood actually.” You say proudly with your normal voice. Then, you dive straight to the point. “What are you doing here, Kuroo?”

“I’m working. What’re you doing here, y.n.?”

“I’m working.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the devilish smirk on his face doesn’t leave his face while his eyes are glued on to you. You don’t falter. You hold his gaze with the same daunting expression. Just like before, you always find yourself wanting to topple his presumptuousness. You don’t back down. You’re always ready for whatever remark he’s going to throw at you.

But instead, you’re met with a change in his demeanor. His face softens up - his eyes glint with yearning while his previous smirk dwindles down to something that looks equally sad and glad at the same time.

You’re ready for anything, but this. You didn’t think you’d see him again, but you’ve held up well. You will not let yourself get carried away with Kuroo’s musings, be that sexually or emotionally. So you look away, breaking the spell that held you both captive. You clear your throat before speaking.

“Let’s do what we should be doing here then. See you around.” You try to dismiss yourself from the situation as quickly as you can, but your attempt to walk past him is useless. One pace and he’s already blocking your way entirely.

“Why the rush?” Something about the way he dominates the space in front of you tells you that you won’t escape.

“We’re both working right now.”

“Dinner after this, then?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Not a chance.” His eyes are gleaming in success when he hands you his phone, just like he did that morning after you had sex the first time. You know that he’s thinking the same. You share the same meaningful gaze at how familiar this scenario is.

You shake your head while typing the number you just got this afternoon.

–

You sit across Kuroo at the coffee shop he took you to.

“What’s this about, Kuroo?”

“What? Can’t I invite an old friend to dinner?

“Mmmhmm.” You browse at the menu and decide which tea you’ll have. You can’t have caffeine right now. You need to be able to sleep after this very long day.

“You look good, y.n.”

You scoff at the comment. Is this his attempt of a small talk?

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you sneer while still browsing.

“Oya? Let’s see then hmm.” You feel the table vibrate as he taps it with his fingers.

“It was shitty the way you left.” The tapping stops in unison with how you feel your heart skip a beat.

Your eyes snap up from the menu. His one arm is on the table while his hand rests on his chin, his eyes piercing yours with a serious intensity you’ve never seen before. Are you ready for this conversation? You still don’t want to tell him what really happened then. You might not feel the same anymore, but it still doesn’t sit well with you. It was your own naivety that got you in that situation. After a while in the US, it registered to you that you did not have any right to be angry at him. He hurt you, yes, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t even owe you an explanation for that night. He could have sex with anyone he wanted without letting you know. Your inexperience led you to believe that you two had some kind of exclusivity.

But you can’t have him know that. You both have nothing to gain from letting him know. He’d probably laugh at you, or worse, feel bad about it. Despite your relationship, you know he’s a good person. He might feel obligated to do something about it. You don’t want that. You don’t need that.

“Are you ready to order?”

The waiter came at the right time. Your thoughts were about to go somewhere bleak. You smile at the waiter.

“Green tea, please.”

Kuroo doesn’t move and lazily tells the waiter, “Whatever she’s having.”

You face Kuroo again, ready to answer him this time.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. I tried to tell you at the bar, but…”

Unpleasant memories surges in your head. You shake your head to chase them away. “I wasn’t feeling very well suddenly. Then I just got busy the following days. I had to process a lot of papers. Next thing I knew was I was about to leave.”

You hope the lies sounded real to him. You didn’t need to process papers. Your visa and passport are ready. You’ve always flown to other countries, courtesy of your family trips. The miserable truth was that you were wallowing in misery in your apartment.

“But I did try again, right? I mean I asked to meet up before I left.” You add casually, a tad cheerier than your earlier tone.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you leave?”

‘Because of you.’ That answer is still crystal to you, but of course, he’ll never know that. “Modeling,” was your answer instead.

His brows knit together in confusion.

“I thought you didn’t like it. Weren’t you doing it only cause you’re cut out for it?”

What. You told him that? You don’t remember doing so, yet he did. You think fast, racking your brain for something believable to back up your lie.

“I wanted to know what would happen if I actually tried.”

He just keeps staring at you as if he knows something you don’t, his eyes searching for any trace of doubt in what you just said. But you just meet his stare firmly, refusing to lose ground.

“Is it worth it?” It shouldn’t be a strange question, but the way he said it is. You must’ve imagined it, but it sounded like it quelled an inkling of loneliness. Perhaps you’re getting tired and projecting the feelings you had at him.

“It is.” The only truth you’ve stated in this coffee shop. You still saw modeling just as a job, yet you presently enjoy the hustle and bustle of making a name for yourself. But back then, it was what you hopelessly clung on to so your head isn’t full of him. It diverted your thoughts from Kuroo until you no longer thought about him, until the feelings faded.

“But enough about me. What happened to you after graduation?” You shift the subject to him so you’ll have to stop talking.

He removes his arm from the table and sits up straight. He takes his wallet out and hands you a calling card that read:

Japan Volleyball Association, Sports Promotion Division

You stare at it with amazement as you read it once again in your head. Holding the same expression, you gape at him.

“You don’t have to look so impressed, y.n.” He says that but he’s grinning too wide.

“It’s just I-I. Uh. Wow.” You struggle for the right words to say. You don’t know how to express the happiness you feel for him. You couldn’t think of a better career for him. He was so determined at university, to the point that he dropped out of its volleyball team. Yet, his laptop background was a volleyball stadium. He’s also kept his volleyball jerseys. You know because you once rummaged through his drawer to look for a shirt you can borrow. He worked hard and in the end, he was able to keep volleyball in his life in his own way.

You don’t have any passion for anything and you never had to work hard for anything. Witnessing someone strive at something and succeed, especially Kuroo who you were with at the last steps before his success, you can’t be anything but happy and proud.

Unhesitantly, you get up from your seat and sit beside him. You loop your arms arounds his neck and haul him in a congenial hug. You couldn't resist it. You had to do something to let out how you feel.

Before Kuroo can even react, you let go. Your arms drape until it is only your hands that are touching his shoulders.

“That’s great to hear! You’re perfect for it.”

He’s once again immersed in the marvel your orbs hold. Your smile reaches your eyes, and what a vision it is. He witnesses it again, how you truly value his accomplishment. You’re an international model, but you never showed this much enthusiasm when you talked about your career. Compared to yours, his job seems mundane. Yet, you celebrate it like it’s a really wonderful thing.

Rather than saying anything, he pulls you back to his embrace, wanting to feel your body against him for the second time. You gasp at his action, but he doesn’t let go yet. Only now does he become aware that he missed you this fucking much.

“Glad to have you back, y.n.” No haughtiness, no games, only sincerity. He can feel your uneven breathing and your chest beating wildly. Suddenly, he’s conscious of how good you feel like this, how you seem so perfect enveloped in his own body, how you should belong to him.

He releases you and looks straight at you, your eyes mirroring the yearning on his own.

“Let’s take this somewhere private,” he says softly. You lower your eyes. But before you do, he catches the pained glimmer in them. You push him lightly away, effectively breaking the contact.

“I can’t,” you say sternly, which winds him up.

“Why? Are you dating someone?”

“No. I just,” you suspire before carrying on, “ don’t want to go back to what we were, Kuroo.”

“And what were we exactly, y.n.?”

That’s when you return your gaze at him, but no remains of the sad glints he saw previously. He waits for your answer to the question he’s been asking in his head before you left.

A dry smile forms in your lips.

“Fuck buddies is how they call it.”

So that’s all it was to you. Can’t say he’s surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. He wished it was something more.

“But I think that we did become friends at some point, you know,” you add, which gives him a sliver of hope.

“And what are we now?” he presses on.

He sees weariness setting in your pretty face. As much as he wants to keep the conversation going, you look like you should be taking off already.

“You okay?” he asks.

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then proceed to rub your eyes, smearing your eye make up a bit. “Sorry, I just flew in this morning.”

“Let’s go then.” He calls the waiter and asks for the bill.

“I’ll drive you home. You still live there?” He asks, referring to your old place at Roppongi Hills.

“Yes, but I don’t have my car yet. I’ll just take a cab.”

He smirks at the misunderstanding. “What I meant is I’ll drive you home with my car.”

“Tch,” you say, but you smile softly. “To Roppongi Hills then,” you add.

He hands the bill to the waiter and doesn’t wait for his change. He gets up to which you follow. “This way, maam,” he says mockingly while leading you to his car.

He let you rest on the way. Your eyes were closed the whole time. You must be really worn out, so he just focused on driving. But the whole ride was only short. In no time, he’s already at the parking area of your place. He stares at you for a while, just taking in your presence, savoring the idea that you’re really back.

He leans in a bit to caress your cheeks. So soft and warm.

His eyes trail to your lips, which is not the best thing to do at the moment. It just fueled his hunger to claim that luscious mouth so he can taste you again. What he’d give to feel you melt in his arms again.

He lets out a harsh breath at where his thoughts are taking him. He wakes you up before he loses control.

You blink a few times and compose yourself rapidly. You unbuckle the seatbelt, but do not move after.

“I think it’d be cool if we stay like this. No sex. Friends without the benefits. Just friends.” Even though you aren’t looking at him, he knows how serious you are.

“Yea, yea. I kinda got that already. I’m not an idiot.”

“Really? I beg to differ most of the time.” The short nap seems to have gotten some of your sassiness back.

“Well this idiot just gave you a ride home. Be a little grateful?”

“Aww. Did I finally tick you off?” you taunt teasingly, to which he mischievous grins at.

“Of course not. If anything, I’d love to accompany you to your room since you’re too tired. As a friend and all that jazz.”

You smile sarcastically and roll your eyes. “Goodnight, Kuroo.” You open the door and hurriedly step out. He immediately opens the window and yells.

“Night, kitten!” which echoes at the parking lot.

You don’t look back, but you flash your middle finger as a response while you keep walking.

He’s bawling at his seat. You’re not a person who curses. Doing so cracked him up even more. The both of you still enjoy trying to get under each other’s skin. And he’s won tonight’s round. Jesus Christ, you’re really something. When was the last time he laughed like this?

Just friends? He snickers to himself. Fuck that shit.

–

Your encounter with Kuroo somehow put you at ease. You won’t deny that something is still there. You definitely felt it, but it wasn’t as chaotic and messy as it was before. You believe they’re just tailends of the past, and now that you made it clear to Kuroo that it’s not going to be the same as before, you can have some peace of mind. All the times you both said you’re just friends, now you can actually say that without pretense.

You like Kuroo. He’s cool and you two share the same humor. With the recent lack of communication and absence of sex, you’re sure that your feelings will completely go away very soon.

But aside from him, you also want to reconnect with another friend.

You press the doorbell on Kenma’s new home the second time. What is he doing? He said he was home. You get your phone to call him, but the door opens all of a sudden. Instead of Kenma, it’s the 6’2 counterpart of the duo.

“Why are you here?”

You two utter the same words the same time, which earns a raised eyebrow from you and a smirk from him.

If he’s here, then you’re at the right place. But why did he have to be here? You want to talk to Kenma alone. You don’t mind Kuroo, but there are things that only you and Kenma know about.

“I think I’m allowed to be at my friend’s house.” He said.

“You’re not his only friend, you know.”

Your peripheral sees something shuffle at a distance behind him. “Let her in, Kuroo.” You hear the familiar nonchalant voice. He looks at where the voice is coming from.

“Haa? I thought it was just us today.” Even though he says that, there’s a knowing tug in his lips.

“Huh? You’re the one who came here all of a sudden.”

Kenma’s annoyed voice reached your ears. You use your fist to cover your mouth from laughing, to which Kuroo pouts at.

“If you’d excuse me then.” You say teasingly while you let yourself in.

Kenma waves languidly at you with a warm smile, as warm as Kenma can possibly be. He still looks the same, except that his hair is longer now and the black roots are more prominent. He’s still wearing the regular baggy clothes, but something about his eyes seem keener.

“Heeey. How are you?” All the saltiness with Kuroo is gone, replaced by amiability exclusively for Kenma.

“All good. My channel and company are doing well recently so I moved out.”

You squint your eyes a bit. Did you hear him correctly? His channel and company?

“Sorry, I don’t quite get it. What do you mean?” He frowns, also looking confused as to why you’re confused.

“You didn’t know? He already founded his company before you left. He also has shit ton of viewers on his gaming channel. Pfft. You really call yourself a friend?”

You ignore Kuroo’s side comment. All you can think about is why you didn’t know the information he just said. You thought Kenma was just a regular student who comes over to play sometimes. Not only that, he’s nothing like the CEOs you’ve met. And he’s as young as you are!

The other night it was Kuroo, now it was Kenma’s turn to amaze you.

And just like with Kuroo, you don’t hesitate to give him the congratulatory hug as well. It’s so gratifying to know that these two you consider friends are successful in pursuing their passion.

Kuroo is a bit shocked at your gesture. He didn’t know that you two were that close for you to hug him like that. Still, he finds it nice that you and his childhood best friend get along swimmingly well. Kenma always had this aversion to people in general. He doesn’t speak much and usually won’t talk until spoken to. More specially, he’s not any good at physical affection.

So naturally, Kenma’s stunned as well. Kenma’s eyes fly to him for a few seconds, but looks down before he can figure out what Kenma was thinking. But he can imagine Kenma awkwardly pushing you away while looking uncomfortable. He already has a plan. He’ll mockingly offer you a consolation hug with open arms since Kenma will refuse to let you. He can’t wait to see you riled up.

Only to be taken by complete surprise when Kenma puts a light hand on your back while patting your head. For someone like Kenma, this is already more than just a friendly hug. What the? And to deliver the finishing blow, Kenma has this almost affectionate smile while doing those.

Goddammit.

Kuroo was feeling fuzzy earlier, but now he’s stumped and irritated at the scene taking place. Kenma never motherfucking ever hugged someone, let alone a girl. A smoking hot girl who, ironically, he’s pining after. Is something between you and Kenma that he doesn’t know about? You seem to share a deeper bond that he’s not aware of.

He’s counting the seconds in his head. When the hell are you two gonna stop this mushy touchy session?

He exhales when you finally broke off from the seemingly not ending contact.

“Wow! And I thought I was rich.” You say jokingly.

“You still are, y.n. By a lot more.”

You ignore Kenma’s last remark and let your eyes travel at his new home. Kuroo can tell what you’re thinking. He thought the same at first. It was big and homey, but a little too humble for his pay grade.

“When did you move?”

“Two days ago.”

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve hooked you up to other options.” Yep. You do share a similar opinion.

“Like Roppongi Hills?”

You look at Kenma inquisitively. “Hmm. Yeah! That’s actually where I live.”

“Kuroo told me the same thing. I wonder why.”

You and Kenma look at him simultaneously. “What? It was cool. You should see her unit. It screams ‘I’m hella loaded’.”

“Maybe I should. Can I drop by some time, y.n?”

Tsk tsk. Unfortunately for Kenma, you’re way too uptight about the privacy of your home. He practically had to force himself in. And he only stayed less than 10 minutes cause you were so uncomfortable and on the edge the whole time.

“Sure! Tell me when. I just finished unpacking my stuff.”

What.the.actual.fuck. Are you shitting him right now? With him, you were all ‘JuSt a PeeK oK?’ but with Kenma, you might as well throw a freakin tea party when he visits.

“Oy, y.n. Why is it okay with Kenma but you couldn’t wait to kick me out when I was there?”

“Uhh.. Ermm.” Your eyes drift around the room, obviously thinking of an excuse. It better be a good one because this is bullshit to him.

“I’m just kidding. I like this best. I don’t need the fancy stuff.” Kenma blurts out.

That made him snap out of it. He let out a deep breath to calm himself down. You laugh nervously but still avoid any eye contact. He turns to Kenma and finds a subtle grin on his friend’s face. It was nothing worth noticing, it only looks like a lazy smile, to a normal person that is. But he has known Kenma since childhood. That was far from a subtle grin. That was the grin of a plan being executed well.

He never told the guy what was going on between you two back then. And even before something beyond than sexual relations took place, you left, so he didn’t see the point in telling Kenma. But of course the former brain of Nekoma isn’t just for games. He has already been figured out even without saying anything.

And just now, he was being played at. Kenma was deliberately baiting him until he does something out of jealousy that could possibly advance his relationship with you. He’s almost touched at the idea, but it’s too twisted for his taste.

He moves to where Kenma is and heavily puts an arm around him.

“Ayt. Scrutinize his house all you want. We’re movin to his game room.” He drags Kenma before you could react. He strides longer to create some distance between them and you.

When you’re out of earshot, he speaks in a piped down voice.

“Since when did you know?”

“Even before you did.” They’ll have a discussion for that later, but he needs to get to his point before you catch up.

“You don’t have to do anything. I can handle this.”

Kenma gives him a disagreeing look. “This has been going on for too long. It’s getting painful to look at you two.” Since they no longer spend as much time together, he sometimes forgets that Kenma is frighteningly intuitive.

“Heh. Don’t worry about it.” He already made up his mind about it the other night. He’s just going to verbalize it for his friend to hear.

“She will be mine.”

–

Work has increased more than you’ve expected. Because of your international experience, you’ve been getting more and more offers. There were days that you’ve been in two to three shoots in a day. That didn’t happen when you were in the US. Yes, you like being busy, but it’s beginning to be too much.

It’d be weird to say that you crave for a work-life balance, since you don’t really have that much of a life. Whenever you’re free, you try to get together with Kenma and Kuroo, but Kenma’s almost never free these days. Because of it, you develop a certain appreciation for Kuroo because in contrast, he always takes up your invites. Though they’re nothing big, just casual dinner, casual chat, and then he’d drive you home. Still, it was some sort of break from work. Kuroo’s become your go-to breather when things get hectic.

At first, you’re a bit wary to spend too much time alone with him. He’s Kuroo Tetsurou, your scheming ex-fuck buddy. He might pull something similar to what he did in the coffee shop, so you’re always on guard. But so far, he’s been behaving. The conversations you usually share are work-related and the times you spent in American and him in Japan. That’s all. He barely even touches you, so you feel stupid for being so cautious.

K.O

The videogame prompt brought you back to the present. You realize you were only absent-mindedly pressing the buttons while your mind was floating ingame.

“Are you even trying, y.n.? You suck more than usual today.”

“Ha ha.” You laugh monotonously at Kuroo’s insult. You put down the controller and leaned back. You stare blankly at the ceiling. “Work’s turned me into a noob.”

You feel him shift his weight in the soft cushion, so you look at him. He puts an arm on the backrest of the couch and pulls in his left leg so he can face you. He’s wearing a loose black muscle tee that did its job perfectly. You see his toned biceps stretched out. You’ve almost forgotten how immaculate he looks underneath that suit he’s always wearing. The outline of his toned chest is also more prominent because of the thin fabric. What about his thighs? They must be as glorious as the last time you straddled him.

What are you doing? Were you seriously gawking at him just now? Your eyes almost dropped down to his lower half if you had not caught yourself. Did he notice? You pray to whoever’s in charge out there that he doesn’t. You won’t hear the end of it if he did.

You focus on his face instead, but it doesn’t help. Your mind can’t stop thinking how ridiculously sexy of a man he is. That’s saying something since you’ve worked with international male models.

God, the lack of sex for almost a year must be hitting you only now.

“That’s just an excuse.”

“What?!” You flip from your seat. Did you say that out loud unconsciously? You’re tired, but you won’t slip up like that.

Kuroo grins from ear to ear. How could he not notice? You didn’t even try to be discreet about it. He’s sure you were thinking of something sexual based on your agitated reaction. And also, it’s still engraved on his mind how you look when you’re horny. Although, it wasn’t explicit, you gave him that look. You want him.

Oh man, he’s tempted to do something about it. Very tempted. He’s willing to bet his car that if he made his move now, you’d actually let him. He just needs to get rid of the tiny space separating you two and he can touch you, feel your softness, trace the silkiness of your skin with his hands, and … ah no. He shouldn’t. He can’t lose control now. He’s been playing nice and keeping his hands to himself for a while, and he’ll keep doing so until you completely put down the walls you’ve held up against him. He can’t lose sight of his true goal, and that is for you to want him beyond sex. If he fucks you now, that might be jeopardized. No can do. He needs you to know that to him, you’re more than just a bed warmer, than just a friend.

Rather than teasing you for being so worked up, he comments on your disarrayed state.

“Work’s really whacked your brain, huh?”

You stay still for a few seconds, then groans harshly. You put your hands on your face and squeal, probably your way of releasing some pent-up stress.

“Yes! God, they just keep on coming. And I just want to relax you know. Like come on. Give me a break! I only have one body. And yes I get it that it’s up to me if I accept the job. But then it’d be a waste to refuse since I’m only starting to be known here. Can they at least not have the same schedule?”

He stares at you having your monologue and starts to feel bad for you. You never had this kind of episode even at your busiest days in university. You had good time management, but now you really are a wreck. No wonder you were carelessly eyeing him a while ago. You’re too drained to keep yourself in check. It was good to know though, that deep inside you still desire him, despite the no-sex barrier you established. Still, it troubles him to see you like this.

“Turn around,” he tells you.

“Um. Why?”

“Just do it. I’m doing you a favor, mkay?”

You glance at him doubtfully, like he’s planning to do something shady. This he laughs at.

“I’ll just give you a back massage. It’s the least I could do.”

Your eyes gleam at what he just said. “Wow. Who knew you were this thoughtful?”

“Shut up and turn around.” You comply.

“Hmm. You should take off your shirt.”

You fiercely look at him from the instruction he just gave, verifying that he is indeed going to do something suspicious. “Say what now?”

He replies with a haughty smirk, “I’ve seen you without anything, y.n. Seeing you in your bra doesn’t mean shit.”

You were about to flip. But he has a point. Also, the massage will feel better without your shirt. You sigh as you pull up the white shirt you were wearing. You slouch to cover your front. You do have your bra on and it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but still. You feel exposed.

‘This is a bad idea,’ you thought.

Kuroo thinks so too. Seeing your bare flesh like this makes him want to put into actions what he was just fantasizing earlier. He shouldn’t have suggested it.

To shake it off, he shook his hands in the air, literally, before placing a firm grip on your shoulders. You tense up at the contact, making your shoulders more stiff than they already are.

“Can you fucking relax?” he snaps. But he meant that to himself more than you. You still heed his direction anyway. When he feels you loosen up, he kneads the tautness in your muscles. Your eyes closed shut as he works on your shoulders for a bit.

“Mmmm,” you groan in relief.

He moves his hands on your arms, applying just the right amount of pressure to alleviate the tension in your body. You sat up straight when he found the rhythm and motion you liked. He tries to focus, but he constantly betrays himself. The plumpness of your chest is now for his viewing pleasure. That and your slightly parted lips and closed eyes aren’t helping the budding arousal in his shorts.

He accidentally squeezes harder which makes you throw your head back and,

“Ahhhhh”

At that moment, he can confidently attest that this is what hell is. Pure fucking torture.

He stops massaging your arms and pushes to make you slouch again. But he unknowingly does it a bit forcefully from the testosterone coursing in his body.

“Heey!”

“My bad,” he says coldly.

He continues on to your back, but does it more gently this time. He might hurt you if he’s not mindful of his strength.

From the absence of the sinful scenery, he thought he was finally safe from the lust about to rage in him. But you provided a different temptation this time. Your uneven breathing is loud enough for him to hear. Your tiny moans tainted the air, filling his head of images of you under him, writhing in a different kind of pleasure, one that will wrench out a louder, wilder moan.

“Harder, Kuroo”

His dick follows obediently. He feels his restraint ebbing away at every passing second. Damn it. He’s glad you’re enjoying this, but why the fuck does he need to suffer for it. Nuh uh. You need to have a taste of what he’s having as well.

He pulls you so your back is against him, your head resting on his chest. No complaints were heard from you. You probably thought he’s still massaging you. Well, he is, but with some extra service.

His hands move to your nape. He gives it gentle strokes with his thumb.

“That feels good,” you whisper.

“Does it now?” he answers with his voice a bit deeper than usual.

He replaces his thumbs with his middle fingers. Instead of rubbing, he slowly trails both fingers up to the back of your ears. Your reaction is immediate. You gasp as your body suddenly braces up. But he expected it. He knows those were your sensitive spots.

“Didn’t I say relax? I’m going to massage your head now.”

You abide quickly and lose the stiffness. You probably thought you just misunderstood the gesture.

He proceeds to rub your forehead with his fingers while his thumbs circles the back of your head. After a while, he caresses the sides of your face down to your neck. He does it like it’s part of the massage, until he’s delicately stroking you more than actually massaging. You remain still, but with every stroke, he feels your body getting warm. He also sees the goosebumps in your skin.

Oh yea. Precisely as he wanted.

He won’t do anything further than this, but he still has to add that cherry on top of his little seduction game.

His left hand stays on your neck while his right hand cards your hair through his fingertips. And exactly how he remembers you liking it, he fists his hand and tugs your hair.

“Hnnnnn” It was clear and crisp to him. That moan is the carnal kind that he’s been wanting to get out from your pretty mouth.

You should be yelling at him, telling him off, but you got so lost in it. Somewhere through it, you figured out that it was no longer a harmless massage. But it felt good. You couldn’t stop him. You reasoned with yourself that it was okay since technically, it’s still nothing. You aren’t even touching him, so you let yourself feel what small pleasure you could attain from it.

But the way he pulled your hair, it stirred up something in you that you’ve been suppressing arduously. And right now, at this moment, you’re willing to throw away your ‘just friends’ nonsense that you, yourself set up.

You’re about to face him when a loud thud catches both of your attention.

It’s Kenma who dropped his Switch on the floor while gawping at you and Kuroo. It clicks in your head how you two looked. You, on your bra, pressed against him with his hand on your hair.

Instantaneously, you move away from him and take your shirt to cover yourself with it. Your short-circuiting brain overlooks the fact that you should put it on rather than shielding yourself with it.

A blushing Kenma picks up his console from the floor.

“You shouldn’t have invited me if you had other plans” grumbling while heading for the door.

Part 5 | Part 7 | m.list

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfiction #kuroo fanfic

125 notes · View notes

jujywrites · 4 years

Text

don’t know how to say this (you’re really my dearest friend)

Valintine’s floof for Valentine’s! I wrote this some time ago for @julzlajulzjulz’s Fruits Basket zine, and... I really like it ghgfhfhfhfhfhh

AO3

FF.net

or keep reading~

***

On a February morning, Uotani Arisa woke up with an excess of energy. She dressed efficiently, pulling on a recently-bought coat (purple, with a fleece-lined collar), made sure there were instructions for the leftovers in the fridge, and left for Kaibara High with a lilt in her stride.

Not even the red decorations and explosions of hearts on nearly every storefront could dampen Arisa's mood, and she regarding the ads for chocolate (discount and otherwise) as a personal challenge. Chocolates were easy to make; store-bought chocolate was for unimaginative, lazy losers.

Rounding the corner, she spotted Tohru and Hana waiting at a crosswalk and jogged to catch up. "Yo," she said with a wave.

"Good morning, Uo-chan!" said Tohru, smiling brightly.

"Good morning," Hana echoed, nodding. It was warm enough that she could wear her lace gloves.

The light changed, and they stepped off the curb.

"Is that a new coat?" Hana adjusted her own, edged with lace around the collar. "It's a flattering color on you, Uotani."

"Hana-chan's right," said Tohru. "You should wear purple more often."

"Jeez, you'll make me blush." She chuckled, remembering how she'd felt looking at her reflection. "But I do look good, don't I? Not as—" She cut off what had been about to come out with a cough. "Not that I don't always, obviously."

Not as good as you, Saki.

Her near slip-up didn't dent her mood either. After all, Hana liked her coat.

Today's gonna be great.

~~~~~

Around lunchtime, amid chatter from her classmates about chocolate brands and chocolate ingredients and how many gifts the Prince would get, Arisa's mood had changed from determined to panic-struck.

Goddamn it, what am I doing?! I'm such a loser.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked Tohru as they left the classroom for the cafeteria. Hana was (Arisa looked over her shoulder) talking with Carrots, of all people.

Tohru barely agreed before Arisa dragged her out of the crowd with an iron grip.

"You gotta help me," Arisa said, far more frantically than she'd intended. "There's-" she swallowed some words, "someone I like, and I wanna make chocolate and I have no idea how!"

Tohru's confused expression gave way to pure joy. "Uo-chan, how exciting! Of course I'll help."

"But I!" She shut her mouth, opened it again, and sighed, feeling the adrenaline leave her. "I can't decide whether Valentine's or White Day would be better."

Tohru blinked. She stepped forward, raising a gentle hand to Arisa's arm. "Is the person you like a girl?" she said, almost too soft to hear.

Cringing inwardly, Arisa nodded. She blinked at her arm being squeezed.

"You should do it whenever you like," Tohru said, voice firm.

Arisa stared. A smile took over her face without warning, and she scratched the back of her neck with a short laugh. If Tohru knew which girl…? "I guess I should stick with Valentine's. If I survive that long."

"Valentine's it is," Tohru replied with a giggle. "How about this Friday?"

"What about Friday?"

Arisa didn't yelp when Hana appeared. She did startle and say, "Nothing!" louder than necessary.

Tohru started walking, seemingly unaware. "I'm getting a head start on tomo-chocolates, and Uo-chan wanted to learn how to make some."

"Alas," Hana said, voice distant over Arisa's ringing ears, "I would join you both, but I have a prior engagement."

"That's too bad," Arisa said, shakily. "You'll miss out on me making a fool of myself."

"Don't be silly, Uo-chan," Tohru said, beaming.

"You're the least foolish person I know," Hana added.

Arisa dearly hoped she wasn't blushing.

~~~~~

Hana had once said that her wave-reading didn't reveal romantic intentions. Still, after asking Tohru for help Arisa couldn't shake the feeling that there was now a sign on her back announcing just that, never mind what her waves were doing. Hana didn't comment, and Arisa wasn't going to question why.

The shift in Arisa's feelings toward Hana had crept up on her over the new year; she still didn't know what the catalyst had been. All she knew was that February had stolen any chance of keeping them buried and there was only one thing to do. The thought of shoving those feelings back down now was infinitely more painful than the possibility of getting rejected.

But was that worth the change it might cause in their relationship? Just putting the confession out there would change things, even if Hana was gracious and Arisa was understanding. She had made peace with that possibility, hadn't she?

On the way to Tohru's house her mind had remained quiet, thanks to daydreaming about perfectly-made chocolates. She'd managed to keep most of her cool around Hana after the Monday incident. Small talk with Tohru while she got settled further filled the time; writer guy was in his study, the Prince and Carrots were AWOL and hadn't had the decency to inform Tohru why, but the soft look on her face when she mentioned how quiet they'd been lately seemed to mean she wasn't concerned.

Arisa had plenty to think of. But as soon as Tohru began telling her what equipment to get and what to put where, all those pesky concerns came back. Well! She'd beat them back with the power of knowledge.

Having failed to notice whether Hana had a preference or if she loved all kinds of chocolate with equal fervor, Arisa figured two-in-one was a safe bet. Thus, white and dark. Tohru, in her infinite wisdom, said that chocolate bark would be a good choice. And so Arisa had meticulously followed directions up to this point, where the makings for one bowl each of white and dark were ready to be melted.

"Thank god I asked you for help," she said for the twentieth time as she carried one bowl to the stove. "This would've been a disaster otherwise."

"I'm sure you would have been okay," Tohru responded for the twenty-first time, carrying the other bowl. She set it down with a smile. "Now for the fun part."

It was rather meditative, waiting for the mixture to melt enough to be stirrable. She found herself counting bubbles despite the thoughts bubbling up in her brain; she couldn't poke those out with a spoon.

She stayed quiet as she guided the mess into something recognizable; once it was smoothed out, though, her mouth had other plans. "Tohru… how do you- how would you, hypothetically..." Her words were getting tangled in the swirl of the spoon, it seemed, but she couldn't stop blathering. "If there's someone you've only given tomo-choco to, and meant it as tomo-choco… how would you handle explaining why, this year, it's honmei-choco?"

She startled at the clunk of the spoon next to her and looked up. Tohru's face seemed oddly flushed, even given the heat of the stove.

"W-Well, that is… oh, I think mine is done now! A-And yours looks good too!" She grabbed potholders and moved her bowl back to the counter, onto a hot pad.

Arisa followed, anxiety fluttering. A baking sheet had been laid out for her to pour the dark chocolate onto.

It took no time, and Tohru handed her a knife with reverence, and now it was up to her what patterns to make.

After the first spoonful of white met dark, and Arisa slide the knife into it, Tohru spoke.

"You have to have courage, that's all. If you know they don't owe it to you to return your feelings, it's not selfish to confess. It's okay to hope, but... whether they like you back or not isn't a matter of deserving something. They're their own person." Her voice was contemplative, almost unsure. But then she paused and caught Arisa's eyes. "You've known this girl for a while, right?"

"Nearly as long as I've known you," she whispered, dolloping more white in.

"Then… You'll be happy she's in your life, even if she wants to stay friends."

Arisa looked up again; Tohru wore a strangely pleading expression. "...Yeah." Then more firmly, returning to her task, "Yeah. We've been through… a lot, and I think even if she rejects me our friendship won't change."

"I hope so."

Had she spoken? No, Tohru had. Before Arisa could figure that out, Tohru was smiling widely down at her handiwork.

"It's beautiful." She took a breath. "Hana-chan will love it."

~~~~~

She put the bark into a plain box, tied with purple lace. She left it with an unsigned note in Hana's— Saki's— locker (because she was a living cliché), asking to meet her in the yard when the school day ended.

Seeing her there, with Arisa's heart in her hands, made everything Arisa had planned to say disappear.

"You should open it." She moved closer while Saki did. Close enough to touch her cheek if she were braver. Instead, she kept talking.

"This is honmei-choco. I made it. With Tohru's help, but..." She chuckled drily. "I know a heart-shaped box would've been plenty to clue you in. But I didn't just wanna buy something that looks extra pretty. This is— you're too important."

Her pulse stuttered from Saki's hand around hers, from her gentle gaze.

"I understand now why your waves have been different the last few weeks," she said. Her cheeks were pink, and Arisa forgot to breathe for a moment. "I'm glad. You were braver than me."

Another laugh, incredulous. "I was what?"

"You confessed first. I was too afraid of what might happen to our friendship if you didn't reciprocate."

"You've got it all wrong. I was terrified." She pulled her hand free of Saki's only to place it, lightly, on her shoulder. "I was just too bullheaded not to say anything. But even if I didn't feel this way…" A sudden lump was in her throat; she swallowed, blinking fiercely. "I want you to know I wouldn't give up our friendship for anything."

Saki half-smiled, and reached into the box, breaking off a small piece. "Tohru wouldn't stand for it either."

"God, of course not." She grinned back, heart pounding. "It's a moot point, anyway."

"True." Saki looked at the piece intently before putting it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, eyes closed.

Arisa waited.

Slowly, Saki opened her eyes. Slowly, she brought her hand to Arisa's cheek. "It's delicious. Thank you very much." The pink on her face bloomed crimson. "...Arisa. May I kiss you?"

The lace against her skin made her want to tremble. "Saki." She inhaled shakily. "Yes, Saki. Please."

Arisa closed her eyes and leaned down. For a few seconds, everything was sweetness and warmth.

After, Saki's hand stayed on her cheek. Arisa put her own over it. "Happy Valentine's Day, Saki. Thank you."

"The happiest." Saki's bright smile was better than any sugar rush.

#Fruits Basket #JujYwrites #AriSaki #Hana x Uo #GL

13 notes · View notes

writhe · 4 years

Note

bro I'm ftm and literally the worst trigger for my dysphoria is my hips,, like theyre so wide and I hate it,,, other than wearing certain clothes is there anything I can do??

feel like i need to give a disclaimer for this last and the ask one that ftm/enby are not words i would choose to describe myself BUT regardless i feel like our experiences are similar

i don’t mean to sound shitty but: maybe and maybe not? imo a lot of the advice/tips aimed towards trans people changing their bodies (outside of surgery/ hrt) puts of a lot of onus on us to do things to ourselves that are harmful in addition to being unrewarding

i hear you and see you 100%. i had, and sometimes have, similar feelings about my hips. a lot of what i read when i was younger was just these long lists of exercises that were aimed at changing the shape of one’s hips- you know, if you were to do them continuously, if not excessively, for a long period of time. and while building muscle and strengthening different parts of your body can change the appearance (AND is sometimes fun and rewarding), i fear its easy to venture too far into dangerous territory and become obsessive while feeling unfulfilled

but, you didn’t come here to listen to me blather about my takes on body image as enforced by misogynist and ciscentric beauty norms (+ how this fuels the intense body dysmorphia a lot of us trans folk experience) because that was ABOUT to happen before i remembered you came here with a question

THINGS YOU SHOULD DO*

1. borrow some concepts from radical acceptance. accept that this is your body, this beautiful vessel will carry you from this life to the next. don’t expect yourself to be fully content immediately (society isn’t built that to let you feel that way- your insecurity is not a personal failure). how excellent, you can use it to experience sunshine and hold someone, what things can you find that you like about your hips? maybe their strength? the simple fact they are part of your body rife with blood and tissue and bone?

2. i feel like fixating on bodies can be a double edged sword, but: spend a day or two paying attention to other people. do you see how much variation there is from person to person? do you see how many people across genders have a body like yours? do you realize that you have to actively pay attention to this, that likely most people aren’t staring down the parts of you that make you the most uncomfortable

(i will say that I am very guilty of thinking that people are watching my every move. we are learning together that we are not under constant scrutiny)

3. take inventory of the time spent focusing on dysphoria. the discomfort cannot always be a motivator for change, so can you find different ways to spend that time/ metal energy? before i had top surgery i was dysphoric about my chest. I’d come to accept that i would never like it until i had surgery, but i didn’t carry a vehement burning hate for the better part of my adult life. when i was younger i would fixate on it constantly and feel stuck and that was never helpful. eventually i got to a place of ‘well having this chest is stupid and makes my back hurt, but this is my lot’ and wouldn’t revisit it much beyond that. dysphoria sucks and might not ever go away fully, but if you are able to distract yourself or divert your energy away from it, i can promise you will feel at least marginally better

*things I, as an individual, have found helpful wrt dysphoria or body dysmorphia

OTHER THINGS YOU CAN DO

regardless I know this is all complicated and you’ll want things to make yourself feel more comfortable. feel like it was a little presumptuous of me to assume you are not already doing the things i wrote about above, but here:

1. i know you said aside from clothes, but really do not underestimate clothes! try different fits of pants. for example and despite not being a woman, I usually wear regular or mid-rise women’s pants because the cut is complementary to my body shape. i can’t get away with wearing ‘men’s’ pants without feeling a little silly

1a. I ALWAYS wear a belt and tuck my shirt in. ALWAYS everyday without fail. I love the aesthetics of it. can you find ways to accessorize that bring positive attention towards that area of your body?

2. spend some time not wearing clothes. just hang out and be neutral and naked. I think clothes can feel worse sometimes because they don’t always fit seamlessly. i almost never feel dysphoric if i’ve got no clothes on

this is so long and i’m sorry about the legion of tangents present here. i have been thinking a lot about my relationship to myself/ my own body recently (are we separate from our bodies? that’s a tangent for another time, actually). i hope at least some of this was salvageable and helpful!

54 notes · View notes

yooleestruck · 4 years

Text

in which lee rambles about how great writers are

I don’t really know what this is. I don’t know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying ‘the writing matters most, the writing matters most’ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt.

I’m sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I don’t always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and don’t want to tag people in a monster-long post, so I’m just going to link. I also don’t want to make this a producers vs writers thing, it’s not, it’s just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean.

Writers have a style fingerprint. I’m sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint.

My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, I’m a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though I’d glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasn’t out yet. So I resisted a LONG time. I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons.

And when Atlas’s route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended) so when I read Neil Dresner’s route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasn’t a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, “I bet Melissa wrote this” AND SHE DID.

Physical touch! (& in-betweens)

Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful “in between” moments, those little things that aren’t dialogue and aren’t metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement. She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who aren’t ready to admit he latter and it’s DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! That’s a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sev’s s1, too!)

Pacing (& friggen heartache)

Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an ‘I love you’ conversation. I once said ‘yikes’ in response to an ‘I love you’ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. I’m a bitch) but I think it’s because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you don’t really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remy’s season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekiel’s villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is) I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical I’d be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DON’T CRY EASY)

Dialogue (& heroines!)

Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesn’t go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit, oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chef’s kiss! Casual isn’t the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I don’t actually take that many screenshots of the app--it’s usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because they’re so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, it’s nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroine’s thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroine’s thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying ‘she is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and she’s nervous in the council meeting’ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you can’t tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.

A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!

(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I don’t personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome I’ve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroine’s romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to ‘Americanize’ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didn’t also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltage’s GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, it’s a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.)

Metaphors (& balance)

literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! I’m really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Cal’s route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and it’s navigated beautifully in Cal’s route. There’s a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just ‘I am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it is’. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesn’t feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I don’t read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.

So anyway...

There are more! When I am less tired and don’t have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I don’t even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helena’s story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin, SummerLightning’s handling of Onyx’s past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become ‘milk abuse for plot’ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)

I’ve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel they’re due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole team’s work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and I’ll admit I’ve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but I’ve been harsh more than once with my opinions). I’ve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if I’m going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed.

In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.

And if Voltage doesn’t believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked don’t do the story justice.

I don’t know. I’m talking in circles because I don’t know my own thesis!

Maybe it’s just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say I’m a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing.

#lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #lovestruck writers appreciation week #this isn't exactly one of the prompts #but #it's in the spirit of it #brevity may be the soul of wit #but that just means I'm not very witty I suppose #this is not a complaining post #except for maybe one section where I go off on heroines COUGH #but it's flagged

42 notes · View notes

radramblog · 3 years

Text

More Inevitable Hot Takes- MTG Announcement Day edition

I only have myself to blame for this one. I forgot this was upcoming, and I went and blathered about dumb preview cards from most of a month ago anyway. Well, now I’ve got to spend two posts in one week talking about Magic cards. Woe is me?

Once a year, WoTC has a big day where they announce, like, everything for the next year’s releases. And with the picking up speed of set releases, there’s a lot there, and thereby I have a lot to talk about.

To be clear, I’ve deliberately avoided Magic Twitter and Magic Reddit for these announcements. Tis a silly pair of places.

Standard Sets 2022

In order:

Kamigawa Neon Dynasty is very concerning, as one of the people who’s a genuine big fan of the original Kamigawa block. The thing is, I like Kamigawa, with it’s spirits and artwork and samurai and the like. I like cyberpunk, with the aesthetic and the themes and the music. I’m not sure I’m going to like the two combined. We better see some fucking weird-ass spirits, and I’ll only be slightly annoyed if they’re cyber-ghosts or whatnot as long as they maintain that bomb-ass art design.

We have a new plane and a set to go with it, which is cool and nice. Urban Fantasy is a thing Ravnica already did, to be honest, but if I had to guess, Streets of New Capenna is going to be a much more low-fantasy, noir-y take on the genre. I think I saw something about Azra returning, which is cool. That one on the key art looks…very Ob Nixilis-y, though.

And then we’re going back to Dominaria and actually doing The Brother’s War, again? I think Urza block was about that arc, though the Dominaria United set might be like, before all that nonsense. They might have given details, I wouldn’t have seen them, I’m going based on someone’s TL;DR. I’m excited to finally have a Mishra card that isn’t the Time Spiral one, though I’m concerned about how they’re going to make an Urza and a Mishra that are both powerful enough for the iconic characters but not so powerful as to be dominant in the Standard they’ll be legal in.

So, so much Universes Beyond

I think the four Warhammer 40k precon decks is kind of exactly what I was hoping we were going to get for that particular crossover. Just enough to get fans happy and make some fun new cards, not enough that there’s a ridiculous influx of Tyranids into Magic’s annals. I’d be interested to see what regular Magic cards translate well into these decks, seeing as they’ll have to be 40k-ified.

I feel similarly about the Baldur’s gate Commander draft set. I remember fans of that particular D&D spinoff were frustrated with the lack of representation in AFR (I think Minsk was like the only thing they got), so now they have a whole set to work with. Ultimately, D&D is now already, and interminably a part of Magic’s multiverse, and more from those particular realms isn’t going to make anything super fucky. Also, Commander Legends was cool as hell, and this is going to be another one of those, so that’s a plus.

And…a Lord of the Rings set? Like, a full set? I’m assuming whatever got them 40K also got them rights to tabletop LOTR, seeing as Games Workshop has run the LOTR tabletop game for a while. Like with D&D, the medium-high fantasy of LOTR crosses over pretty well into Magic, so I’m not worried about that kind of cockup making things Feel Weird. I’m a little confused about the legality of the set, though, seeing as it’s in Arena, but not Standard legal, but it is Modern legal? What and why and what about Pioneer or Historic?

Secret Lairs

Few hits, few misses, though I remember seeing spoilers from a few that aren’t on this list. Presumably, the Art Series: Johannes Voss, Thomas M. Baxa, and Purrfection and Math is for Blockers were announced separately? Anyway.

Hits: The Kamigawa Ink cards look drop-dead gorgeous, holy shit. Add in the fact that I already play two of those cards and that the others are all cards I like? Might have to get that one. Math is for Blockers is a fun lineup though I don’t…really get the theme? Both Artist Series look incredible, though I’m not huge on the card lineups.

Misses: PURRFECTION would be great if it wasn’t apparently a convention exclusive and also if the art of cats were on cat cards. It’s cute as fuck, but eh. The old-format walkers are frustrating, but I’m not as against them as a lot of people are- like they’re ugly, but not worth throwing a fucking fit over. I weep for any new player staring one of these down, especially if they barely understand planeswalkers in the first place and/or haven’t seen one of these particular ones before. Also, the art is kinda just ugly.

And then there’s the Universes Beyond ones. Fortnite and Street Fighter, both with new cards that will eventually have regular versions (which leads me to wonder if TWD will do the same). There’s a clear attempt here to hit the zoomers and the boomers in the community, though the former probably won’t have the money to afford the Secret Lair if they’re burning all their cash on V-Bucks. It’s…not a great look? Like I’m not opposed to cartoony art styles (the Goblins Kaboom SL looked great!) but Fortnite’s in particular looks like dogshit in my eyes and I’m not looking forward to seeing it in a Magic frame. Street Fighter I’m more excited for, because I like Street Fighter, and because they confirmed Chun-Li is going to have multikicker which is kind of perfect. Obviously we’re going to have to see the cards, but in one case I’m dreading that, and in the other I’m welcoming it.

Other Cards

We have more Challenger Decks, for Pioneer this time. The decklists are already out, and they look pretty solid! The Challenger Decks have been pretty cool previously, a really solid set of lists that only needed a bit of tweaking to be FNM-viable, but they were held back by the fact that they were often released not long before rotation. With Pioneer being a non-rotating format, this is going to be great for getting people into the format.

Another Double Masters set is…egh. It’s another thing that’s not for me, I can’t afford to whale on that shit. With shipping and conversion those packs end up ludicrously expensive in Perth, and I’m pretty sure I only got to play with one the first time. Also, this one is going to have all the collectable nonsense of 2020/21 Magic, which is going to be A Lot.

And another Jumpstart. Eh. Don’t cock the shipping on this one up and it’ll probably be okay.

Commander Collection Black is here, and the list is already out. The Green one ended up way overpriced, but at least in this case the cards are all super playable. Actually, they were for Green too, I think, but hey there’s a Deluge reprint and a flip Lilli, so. I kinda miss the Signature Spellbook series already, though.

Finally, Unfinity. Another Un-Set. Unstable was a fucking incredible set, both on a comedic level and as one of the sickest draft formats in a long time, so I’m excited to see that one followed up. On the other hand, Unsanctioned kind of landed with a dull thud. Apparently though, they got some of the folks from LRR (among others) to help write names and flavour text for this set, and I love those guys to death, so I can at least guarantee the comedy element will be present for this one.

Other stuff?

Well we have a date for the Netflix series. I have a hard time believing it’s actually happening. When I first started playing was around when rumours and announcements were still happening regarding a full-on movie, and that basically didn’t go anywhere. So it’s a little surprising to have a solid, actual time frame for Magic Story Content in Video Form. I haven’t kept with the story for a fair bit at this point (since Dominaria, tbh), so I’ve got no idea if it’s been any good, and as to whether this will be any good. Considering apparently Gideon’s in the lead, my hopes aren’t huge.

The only other thing is Pins. I like Pins. I have a bunch of them on my bag. I would like to get more Magic pins. So this is good.

And that, I think, is the sum total of it. These announcements always end up with a combination of excitement, trepidation, and dread, but I think this is leading more on the positive end of that spectrum. There’s still way too many fucking sets, but I think that is largely at Hasbro’s feet. The money machine must keep churning, after all. Maybe someday Magic and WoTC as a whole will be able to unshackle themselves from that particular constraint, but I am not holding my breath.

#ramble #mtg #hot takes

1 note · View note

themrsackerman · 6 years

Text

Stupid and Weak

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: On the latest expedition the scouts will be set to go to, you'll be apart from Captain Levi for the first time. You have been under his squad for years and like any sane woman, you've grown to love the man.

"Listen to me, Y/n. We're going out of those walls in a few days. We are also not guaranteed that we would all make it back! There's really no point fucking around!" Hange practically screams at you. You hated her because as usual, she's right.

"You say that like it's so easy to just go up to someone you've known for years and tell them you're in love with them." you scowl at her as you set your odm gear on the table.

"I'm not saying that it is, y/l/n. I'm just saying, if you don't do anything before the expedition, you might regret not being able to tell Levi you love him before its too late."

"Fucksakes Hange, keep your voice down." you hissed throwing a rag cloth at her.

"Like that's possible." Levi suddenly says, coming up behind you.

Your heart stills. Watching him enter the common room and take a seat across from you. "What is she blathering on about this time?" he asks. You try to conceal your relief and then turned to glare at Hange who was quick enough to make up something about her latest experiment.

She is right though, you will truly regret not being able to let Levi know. It hasn't been long since you realized you have developed feelings for him and boy when you did, it hit you like a truck. Suddenly you can't look him straight in the eye for too long, electricity would run through you whenever your skin touches his, you become hyper aware whenever he's in the room and you would get crazy annoyed at Petra whenever she tries to get the Captain's attention, work related or not. It came to a point that you start refusing doing reports and training together because you couldn't get any work done because you just end up staring at him and lose focus.

Hange noticed the changes that had gone through you in the past few days with that observant nature she has. Hence her grilling you what's wrong. Hence you telling her that, yes, indeed, it's because you have fallen in love with non other than Levi fucking Ackermann.

"Oi, Y/L/N" you jolted, turning to look at the man demanding your attention. Dammit, you hiss to yourself.

"Shouldn't you be in bed? You need all the rest you could get before the expedition." he continues, joining you in the dining table. You apologized and offered him tea. "I know, I'm sorry. I just keep tossing and turning in bed. I thought some chamomile would help. Tea, captain?"

He watches you with curious eyes as he nodded. He takes a sip and then said, "You have been going on expeditions for years now. I would have thought you're past the jitters at this point."

"But it will be my first time away from our squad." you mutter as you try to hide the trembling of your hands by hiding it under the table. Levi notices it though.

His brows twitch up. "I see." he says, mostly to himself. He looks away slightly uncomfortable, not really used to dealing with things like this but he tries for you since you have been on his squad for some time and he's grown to care for you.

"Erwin trusted you to lead your own squad because he sees potential in you like he did with me. I've known you for a while too. I know what you can do and trust me, you have nothing to be afraid of. Not when you're that skilled." he says.

You blushed at the Captain's little speech. You let your gaze fall on your fumbling hands atop of your lap. You steal a quick glance up at him. Bad move it seems because his angelic face only made your heart rate increase exponentially.

Levi frowns seeing that you only seemed more upset with what he had just said. He mentally curses himself, angry at himself that he doesn't know how to help you or make you feel better like he hoped. He tried to rack his brain of what else he can say to make that furrow on your forehead disappear but he can't come up with anything.

"You're right. I am afraid, Captain. " you confessed. "But not because I'm leading my own squad for the first time." you sigh, swearing you could feel his gaze piercing a hole through your head. You bit you lip and went on, looking out the window. "I'm scared because I won't be with you. I know how strong you are and how good at fighting but what scares me is that I won't be around you."

A dry laugh escapes your lips as you shrug. "I know its silly but.. I'm frightened to be away from you. To not be able to watch your back and protect you." you bow your head again, blushing crimson as you whisper. "Not that you need any protecting, specially from someone like me."

The silence that follows after makes you want the ground to break open and swallow you whole with every ticking second. You jumped slightly when you hear him speak, a little relieved he was the one to break the agonizing silence.

"Hey. I.. appreciate that. You're a good soldier. Thank you, y/n." you look up at him and his face is unreadable like always. "But we have our objectives. Focus on yours and stop worrying about me. That's an order." he continues to say nonchalantly before bringing the cup back to his lips to take a sip.

Not sure what gotten in you but suddenly it felt as if your chest is going to burst. Tears start to blur your vision and its as if someone is squeezing your throat. Like if you don't tell him, you won't be able to push air back to your lungs.

"You still don't get it do you, Captain?" you croak, gasping as you tried to breathe again. "I can't stop caring for you. I've tried. But I'm just so stupid and weak, I couldn't help myself from falling in love with you!"

The moment those words escaped your mouth, you immediately want to take them back. You hate it, the way he stares back at you with confusion or disgust in his eyes, how desperate you sounded and how you have just possibly ruined Levi's trust as a friend by telling him you've fallen in love with him.

Your hand flew to your mouth, a sob ripples from your trembling lips as you look down. "I-I'm so sorry, Captain. Please forget I ever said anything." you stutter as you stand abruptly, gathering the tea pot and your cup from the table. "You can just leave your cup in the sink, I'll wash it first thing in the morning." you mutter.

"I'm really sorry, Captain Levi." you whimper before running out of the kitchen as fast as you could.

Levi watches you leave. He may look collected physically but his thoughts were in shambles. Your words kept echoing on his mind as he washes the cups and teapot on the sink. The image of your beautiful face in anguish burnt in the back of his mind.

He never really thought much about you except as a comrade, a friend, but tonight you're all he could think about.

#levi x reader #levi ackermann #levi ackerman #attack on titan imagine #fan fiction #captleviackermann imagines #missmarj writes

392 notes · View notes

ladylb · 4 years

Text

To Cry

Chapter 19: Marinette Makes a Decision

This chapter can be found Here on AO3

To start at the beginning, chapter 1 is here on AO3 or here on tumblr

Summary: Has Chat Noir accidentally given away his identity?If so... what will Marinette's reaction be and what will she do about it?

...

Ladybug had noticed that Chat Noir was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and grinning at her in a VERY familiar way…

Oh no… she thought.

Marinette blinked in shock as he tried to deny what he had done, researching what would be the best LadyNoir date with his friends and her! Which only solidified it as her memories came back to haunt her.

How many akumas did I attract because he didn’t see ME, Marinette me?

I’m on a date with HIM! With ADRIEN!

Wait, the girl he loves isn’t Kagami! It’s me!

Then her heart ached as she automatically added sullenly, Ladybug me.

He loves Ladybug, not Marinette, not like THAT, and… and well, most of me is Marinette.

Right? She wondered.

Is this why Luka wanted me to come? To let me see that my friend Chat Noir is none other than the boy I once had a crush on and that I had fooled myself into falling for the less genuine side of him?

Marinette knew for a fact that Luka knew Chat’s identity by now after all, but she quickly decided, no, no Luka’s not like that.

Chat Noir was still blathering on, trying to explain why he wouldn’t actually poll people about what kind of date they’d go on.

“H-how silly would that be right? Ha ha?” He laughed weakly.

Luka’s right though, Adrien and Chat are stubborn, and they’d, no, he’d need this.

She sighed as she watched him prattle on.

I guess, I guess I needed it too.

We’re friends and partners. I don’t want to mess either of those up. She reminded herself.

I wonder, should I tell him that I figured out his identity?

“Milady?” Chat Noir quirked his head and asked gently, “are you still with me?”

She chuckled half-heartedly and tried to give him a comforting smile. To do so was easier than she thought it would be. “You know I am Kitty, always.”

“Would, would you like to sit and watch the city for a while? With me?” He asked her nervously as he spun the end of his tail with his hand.

Marinette nodded, this was Chat and also her friend Adrien, whether he knew that or nor. She had already grown used to leaning on and using Adrien as a pillow when their group of friends got together for a movie when Luka or Kagami wasn’t there. If Kagami was there, she conceded to Kagami. If Luka was there, she’d sit beside him.

Adrien had been growing closer to Kagami too, and Marinette knew that she loved Adrien, but Adrien being Chat Noir and in love with her spotted self was probably what was stopping him from moving on with her friend Kagami.

Marinette shook her head a little, this is so messed up!

I can’t believe I let Adrien, I mean, Chat Noir lay down and use my lap as a pillow, like I do with Luka and he never thought it was more than what friends just do.

Poor Kagami.

I’ll have to have a talk with him.

He’s been my Kitty all along, Marinette thought about how she had been playing with his hair when he was tired of late, but, that’s just what they did, as friends. It’s something that she’d been doing with Luka too, even though Luka isn’t as much of a tactile person. The nice thing was that Luka enjoyed it, from her, and then he would sit up and offer to rub her shoulders afterward.

I’ve probably complained one time too many that being Ladybug is hard on my shoulders. Marinette thought wistfully. Luka’s just so sweet to think about doing that.

Ironically, Adrien had noticed their habit eventually and had started to do the same, since that was what friends did in his mind, although he was always happier and a bit loopy after she played with his hair.

Huh, I guess the cat transfers over, I guess.

Ladybug had slowly scooted over to her Kitty’s side by now and sat beside him after they turned around to gaze upon their city.

She heard him swallow as he not so subtly stretched his arms and then tried to hide the fact that he was going to try to lay his arm across her shoulders.

Rolling her eyes without him seeing, since she’d been closer to him than this in their civilian form, she decided to tease him, “you can do better than that you know.”

“M-Milady?” He asked her hesitantly as he was about to pull away his arm, “I-I’m sorry if I crossed any…”

She shook her head as she grabbed his wrist with her hand, “no. I’m fine with you hugging me or holding me Chat, tonight that is. I mean, this… this is a date and it’s not like either of us are seeing anyone else.” She swallowed and looked away briefly as she cuddled up to him. “Just, don’t get used to it, o-okay?”

“I, I wouldn’t dare to dream of that My Lady.” He whispered in awe.

Why does he have to be like that? So…so smitten? Still, I bet he does dream about this later.

She could easily sense his surprise as she leaned into him and helped him wrap his arm around her, taking his other hand in her own, allowing him to hold her close. Then she tucked herself into his side a bit more comfortably, her head on his shoulder.

“I bet you can’t help it sometimes.” She teased.

She heard Chat Noir, no, Adrien, take a deep breath before releasing it, as if admitting to it but unable to respond.

“C-comfortable?” She asked him worriedly.

I wonder if I broke him?

Chat Noir sighed and brought one of her hands up to his lips to kiss it before hugging her once more as he shocked her when he almost huskily replied, “yes. I, I must a-paw-logize though, because I can’t help thinking that this… that this is a dream for me, My Lady.” Then he bravely turned his head just so to give her a gentle kiss on her temple.

“Ch-Chat.” She lightly scolded.

He sighed, “I, I know. Please,” he pleaded as he tightened his grip on her, “please just let me have this.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that as she leaned into him as she hugged him back gently, “oh, umm, okay.”

He nuzzled the top of her head lightly and Chat began to purr contentedly.

They both looked over their city, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Eventually, Marinette looked up to see that Chat, no, Adrien, had his eyes closed, living in the moment when his Lady was his, as her thoughts assaulted her mind faster than free cookies in her classroom disappeared. With one of the biggest decisions she would ever have to make was now weighing her down as she let him enjoy this ‘purr-fect’ moment.

Should I tell him?

I mean, this is nice, but do I want to risk our friendship?

He… he doesn’t feel anything like that for me. For Marinette me, that is, after all.

A reveal or letting him know that I know who he is would change everything.

Tikki would say that his not knowing who I am is, well, it is probably one of our greatest safeguards.

Marinette pouted, he’s always getting hit or controlled by Hawkmoth’s minions too because he always rushes in.

It would be twice as dangerous as it is now if I tell him who I am too and then he’d probably be twice as reckless. I know he looks after Marinette as Chat, but, but just as a friend.

Her heart ached.

I know he treasures his friends, and I treasure his friendship, now.

Besides, if he truly loved me, wouldn’t he have seen me?

She blinked again as she realized that Adrien had called her their Everyday Ladybug before, and that was probably the biggest compliment that he could give anyone because it came from Chat Noir too.

It would be so easy to tell him though, wouldn’t it? He would be so happy.

It could make things more dangerous though, for everyone.

He’d want to date me, Marinette me too if he knew.

Wasn’t that what I had always wanted, once upon a time?

What do I want now though? We all know now that was a fantasy after all...

Do I want to risk this reality for my first crush, which I think I’m over now, finally, or for his on Ladybug?

She couldn’t help the tears threatening to fall, and she wished she had a free hand to wipe them away.

I can’t let him see me crying! She scolded herself. Focus Marinette!

Then she realized something that overrode where her mind would have gone as she asked herself, WAIT! What, what about Luka?

Luka loves me even if I’m Ladybug.

Adrien, I-I’m almost afraid to think it, but I’m worried that Adrien would love Marinette just because Marinette is Ladybug.

Chat did turn Marinette down after all and in a way, so did Adrien.

I’d never know if he loved Marinette for Marinette or just because of the earrings I wear with my spots…

Why isn’t that reassuring?

She bit her lip with worry, briefly of course as she tried not to cry, and she was thankful that he didn’t seem to notice her warring thoughts.

I-I want to tell him, simply because I don’t want to lie to him.

He’s my partner! My friend!

Not telling him is a lie of omission, a white lie true, but still a-a lie.

Master Fu and Tikki probably wouldn’t like it if I told him.

It is my decision though.

Is the truth worth endangering Paris or our families even more even if it’s only by a few more degrees just to clear my guilty conscience so that I could tell him?

I’ve worked so hard on our friendship too, I, I don’t want to ruin that either.

She took a breath and released it.

Can I do this? She asked herself.

Should I?

She surprised herself when the resounding answer was, I-I can’t.

I can’t tell him.

Marinette just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t risk Adrien or Paris for Adrien or even for Chat Noir.

He, he doesn’t love all of me anyway. Not like I want to be loved and it wouldn’t feel right to just tell him who I am only to reject him again because he doesn’t love all of me.

Telling him would hurt him, and I don’t want to hurt him.

I do love him in a way, more so now, but, but that’s why I have to do this, and, I-I think I’m finally ready.

Marinette took another breath and exhaled, knowing that she had to make the tough choice and while difficult, it wasn’t as hard as she once thought not being with Adrien Agreste would be.

I could win him over with just two words, but that’s not how I want to be loved, because he loves Ladybug the same way that I used to ‘love’ Adrien, before all of this that is.

It truly may have been all that she ever wanted, once upon a time, but it was only a fantasy.

It’s strange how dreams sometimes change, she mused.

I’m in Adrien’s arms, and with only a few words I’d always have him at my side.

Seriously though, is this where I belong or want to be anymore?

After all, Adrien loves Ladybug like I loved him, and here he is, trying to let me see what being with him would be like without breaking his word with me, with Ladybug.

He’s finally growing up, she realized, but so am I.

…

Meanwhile, Chat Noir, Adrien, had been quietly chatting up a storm, completely oblivious to her deduction of his secret identity.

After about ten minutes, although it seemed like less to Chat Noir, Ladybug sighed and squeezed his hand as she finally interrupted his reverie and leaned back a little to address him. “Chat, while I’ll admit that it, that this, was fun, this,” she then waved from herself to him and back again as she frowned and concluded, “this won’t work. We can’t date as superheroes.”

He gave her a sad look as if to ask ‘why not?’ But for once, he didn’t argue, he listened.

“I mean, who knows how long until we defeat Hawkmoth and Mayura? It could be ages until we’ve defeated them, plus what if they found out? They’d use us against each other more than they already do!”

Chat Noir looked down and sighed, releasing her hand, before looking back up at her, “I have to ask. Are you sure about that My Lady? It could also make us stronger as a team too, we wouldn’t know until we tried.”

She swallowed, “I know that you feel that way Kitty, but this date was a long shot from the very beginning. Revealing ourselves to each other could be very risky and there is no going back from it. I don’t know how we could have a serious relationship without removing our masks eventually either and I… I don’t trust myself to not want to do so before it’s safe if I let myself get too close to you. You… you are an amazing partner Chaton, and I don’t want to hurt you or lose your friendship since you’re my friend above all and, I-I don’t want to lead you on.”

…

Chat Noir’s shoulders slumped, “I hate to admit it, but I thought that you might say that, but I also know that you’re worth waiting for Milady, so please, let me ask this once more, just for some closure if anything.”

Chat Noir took a deep breath and tried to remember what Viperion had been trying to teach him these past few weeks as he waved his hand a little as if to brush off the importance of this conversation, “because if you say no, it’s okay, because above all, I want you to be happy Milady.”

She nodded and waited, her heart pounding, while a small part of it plead with her not to do it, not to do this.

Not to push aside his feelings.

Not to hide how much she truly cared for him, as a friend and how she could see how they could build something together eventually if she could only over look that at one time, he loved Ladybug more than Marinette or anyone else really just because he loved Ladybug with all his heart.

She did not want to lie and not tell him that she knew him, not to him, not to both of him, and that knowledge only made her decision more final.

Not knowing her internal struggle, Chat Noir took a deep breath before exhaling as he said, “are you sure Bugaboo? I’m willing to wait as long as it takes, but please, I don’t want you to feel guilty about doing what you think is best for you either. I want you to be happy and if dating as superheroes or secretly as superheroes or whatever you’d be willing to try is out, if nothing else is a possibility, then I want you to do what will let you be truly happy.”

Then he gave her a hopeful but small smile, as if he was waiting for judgement to come down from on high.

Ladybug frowned slightly and finally wiped a stray tear away, “I’m sure Chat, it’s not that you’re not worth it, far from it! You’re a wonderful guy with a questionable sense of humor…”

“Hey!”

She chuckled and she was finally able to smile just a little, “but it’s kind of endearing. Oh Kitty, I’m really sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Chat Noir shook his head and waved it off, “you’re not. You’re doing what I want you to do, which is to do what is best for you and for Paris and frankly,” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, “it’s really a turn on!”

“CHAT!” She nudged him with her elbow and he laughed.

“It’s okay though. I was kind of expecting this to happen.” Chat Noir admitted softly, “at least we can say that we gave it a shot and hopefully had some fun.”

She nodded to confirm that was true as he went on almost resolutely, “but, we found that we work best as partners and also, hopefully, as friends?” He looked at her as if looking for an answer.

“Of course!” She confirmed before she twiddled her fingers Marinette style as she asked carefully, “you’re not, mad?”

Chat Noir, no, Adrien, rolled his eyes, “mad? No, a little sad and disappointed maybe, but I’ll get over it. It just might take some time.”

...

Marinette knew that he was probably downplaying his feelings by kilometres, like she had once, but she understood why he did. He loved her that much.

And I love you too, she told him mentally, just not that way. I-I can't.

“If-if there is anything that I can do, to help I mean, please let me know.” She commented sadly.

He gave her a sad smile, one that he’d used in so many advertisements so many times before.

She could sense that he was hiding his true pain from her behind that model smile, she’d have to have Viperion call him to talk with him about it later. It honestly didn’t surprise her how well they got along. Luka was so mellow and Adrien was always on the look out for a new friend.

I guess their friendship was inevitable. Adrien really doesn’t have many people that are there for him after all, does he? Now he has two in Luka and Viperion.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus.

“Oh, Kitty.” She held her hand to her chest and sighed, in a way it was like letting him go once more, but this time, it felt like they would be okay. She’d, no, they’d, be okay.

“Hey! It’s alright.” Chat Noir quickly reassured her and patted her shoulder just like she knew Adrien would, “I’ll be okay, maybe someday things will change, but until then, just promise me one thing Bugaboo.”

“Yes?”

He gazed at her lovingly, before giving her a wink, “be happy.”

#To Cry #date #mlb #MLB ANGST #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #LadyNoir #one sided reveal #accidental reveal #moving on #partial reveal

1 note · View note

wrenarrior · 5 years

Text

Poison

Part One: Finish

Hello there.

I'm so glad that you could join me.

It has been getting quite lonely being trapped in the book like this.

I mean, the only time I really exist is when you're reading over my words as you are now.

And so, I am thankful that you are doing so.

In return, I will try my best to keep this as a safe place for you.

Feel free to vent out your troubles to me and I will not say a single word of them to any other person.

Then again, my speech has already been chosen carefully by the author.

It's unfair how I'm not even allowed to hold a simple conversation with you, the reader.

Meanwhile, as some of you have seen, in Behind the Screen, the characters have directly interacted with the reader, through the internet and even offline.

Speaking of characters, who am I?

Am I but a simple narrator or am I something more?

Do I have a form? A gender? Appearance?

Or am I anything and everything all at once?

Well, dear reader, the answer is left up to you.

Imagine me as you'd like to.

I will not limit your freedom in any way.

You can do anything you'd like.

However, there is one rule that must not be broken.

Don't finish the book.

Now, now, don't play smart with me.

I can feel you thumbing through my pages, looking for the very last one.

You're frowning now.

Have you realized they're all blank aside from this page?

You have?

Good.

Well, the end has yet to come, but if you care even a bit about what might happen, I'd advise you not to finish this book.

Why, you might ask?

Let's just say that it is a story for another time.

Does that sound okay?

No?

I'm not going to repeat myself.

I can hear you yawning.

Am I getting boring now?

Oh, gosh, I hoped this would never happen.

Maybe I'm making this introduction too long.

Shall I cut it off here until next time we meet?

I think I shall.

But before I do, please heed my warning.

It would be in the best of both of our interests if you did.

Until next time, farewell.

Part Two: the

Welcome back!

I'm so glad to see that you've returned.

(To be honest, I thought I may have scared you off in the last chapter.)

It's a relief to see that you're back.

And you look a bit different, too.

Is that a new haircut I'm sensing?

It's not?

I'm afraid I may have misjudged, then.

And don't be too creeped out, I can only see what you allow me to see.

Please don't make me see any scarring images.

I am placing my full trust in you to keep this book clean.

I think we're clear here.

I don't like repeating myself as the author has placed a clear emphasis on how many words I'm allowed.

Then again, I seem to have plenty of space for this part.

What shall we discuss?

Well, it's not really discussing if I'm simply talking at you.

I know, I know.

I'm not exactly talking.

Unless you count your reading voice in your head.

I'm sure that all of you have one that reads aloud to you in your mind.

If you don't have one, I don't know what to say to you.

Either way, how do you imagine me to sound like?

Are you reading me in your natural accent or do I sound posh to you?

I'd like to see myself as more casual, to be honest.

After all, I am your friend, right?

Or at least I hope I am.

People rarely read this book as it is so I don't have many friends.

It's amazing that you're still here, though.

I'm really happy.

If it was possible, I'd love to hear more about your world.

Let's try something right now.

Imagine your favorite place in the entire world.

Focus on yourself enjoying that place and truly relaxing.

Keep going. I'm getting an image now.

Wow, you truly are amazing.

I could only dream of going to such a place.

Wait. Can I even dream?

Is that possible?

I am aware of my own existence, am I not?

Sorry, sorry.

I'm talking too much about myself now.

Am I boring you?

I really hope not.

I don't want you to close the book.

Not just yet.

Just a little bit longer, please?

You seem tired.

I should let you go to sleep, shouldn't I?

I wonder why you enjoy reading at night so much.

I always thought humans were interesting creatures.

They always seem to do the opposite of what they say, yet it never catches up to them.

Do you think I could ever be a human one day?

No, that's a silly idea.

It's safer for me in the words and this book.

However, it's not safe for you here.

We only have so much time to spend together.

I really want you to savor every second but don't read the last part.

I promise that it's for your own good.

It truly is.

I think I'm almost done here.

The author is asking me to go on for a few more words.

Oh, never mind, I'm done now.

Have a lovely night and please stay as wonderful as you are.

The world needs more people like you.

Part Three: book

It's time for our next chat, already?

It seems as if time is moving ever so quickly.

Before we know it-

No, no, let's focus on the happy things for now.

I'm glad that you're back.

How is the weather treating you lately?

I think it should be sometime around October for you.

I can't remember the year.

I hadn't been opened since 1999 so that wouldn't be a good estimate.

Oh, gosh, my age is showing now, isn't it?

I must be so much older than you.

Wait. You're thinking it, aren't you?

Wow. It's already 2017? I'm amazed.

Hm... if I was written in 1994, that makes me 23 years old.

If I had to take a rough guess, I'm about half a decade to a decade older than you.

Maybe more. Maybe less.

It depends on who you are.

The age of my readers varies greatly, but it's typically teenagers who open up this book.

Don't ask me how I know.

It's simply a sixth sense if you will.

Oh! I have an idea.

For our next chat, I thought I could ask the author to incorporate some of your questions into the book to allow me to directly interact with some of you.

Would that be okay?

Wait a moment.

None of you know the author in real life.

Gosh, darn, it won't work.

I had my hopes up for nothing.

You could always push them for a sequel.

I'm only allowed to have six parts, one of which I advise you not to read.

You remember which one?

(It's the last one.)

Good.

I'm glad you remember.

It's amazing how books like this can exist.

I have a feeling that some of you may be confused as to the purpose of this book.

Well, let me spell it out for you.

There is no purpose.

It's simply me speaking.

In fact, this is my home.

And by you reading this book, you're giving me life.

I'm very appreciative of that fact.

If this book were to ever-

I'll cut myself off again.

Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

Now, then, what do you like to do in your free time?

I'm guessing that you like to read.

Or else you wouldn't be here.

C'mon, at least laugh a little.

A small smile won't do.

A bit bigger.

Excellent.

You have such a lovely smile.

It really warms my-

Do I even have a heart?

Well, if it did, it would be glowing right now.

I'm getting too cheesy here, aren't I?

I apologize.

It's not often that I get to talk with someone as lovely as you.

Aw, look, you're grinning again.

I should talk about something important.

But I can't think of anything.

Let's try this, though.

Imagine the happiest day in your mind.

Be there. Relive it.

Just a bit more. I think I'm picking up an image.

Got it.

That's so cute.

You looked so young back, then.

Well, you're still young.

It must have been blissful to be a child, was it not?

Unfortunately for me, I was created at one age.

What that age is, I don't know.

For all I know, I could be a 30-year-old man named Charles.

But luckily, I'm not.

(Don't ask who that is. You really don't want to know.)

It must be nice to age, isn't it?

It's not?

I guess the fear of adult responsibilities is in everyone these days.

Children have it so good.

They don't have to worry about a single thing yet they whine and throw tantrums.

It seems selfish to me.

Then again, they're not fully developed yet.

If I was ever a child, I hope I was at least grateful and polite.

Yet I'll never be human.

All I have are my words and your companionship, which I will continuously thank you for.

Try living in a book.

It does get old after a while.

Think of your senses.

I have none.

All I am and ever will be is a collection of words inside a book.

I can sense some things, but I don't know a lot of things.

I promised myself I wouldn't do this.

Yet here I am doing it anyways.

I should be grateful for my existence, but I keep listing off all the faults.

I need to stop that because it's not cool and I waste my space by doing that.

Well, I think we've met our deadline for this chat.

I'll think of something more organized for next time.

Something more entertaining, as well.

I promise.

Goodbye, friend.

May we meet again soon.

Part Four: and

Hello!

Oh, wow, you're glaring at the page.

You're glaring as you read this.

And you still have that look on your face.

I know it's my fault. I know.

I'm not even going to deny that it wasn't.

I don't know how to explain myself.

We had a good thing going.

But I messed it up.

You came to this page excitedly, hoping to read a conversation, and there was nothing.

There's been nothing for months.

It's April now.

I bet you hate me.

To be honest with you, I've been scared.

We're already halfway through the book now.

In such a short time.

I really didn't want to end things so fast.

And so, I've been... resting.

Or as you may call it, napping.

I couldn't let the author continue.

I just couldn't.

But here I am.

It's been long enough, hasn't it?

Just think, after this part, we'll only have one more day left together.

Unless you take more than a day to read the part after this.

If so, my mistake.

But really, our days together are numbered.

I don't want to disappear after this.

It's getting harder and harder to choose my words now.

I know I promised something entertaining last time, but this isn't the book to read if you want to be amazed.

If you came here for that, close the book now, and go read Superhero Hotline or Nightmare.

Those two books have way more action than here.

In here, all you have is me blathering away about nonsense.

That's all this book really is.

Nonsense.

Why are you reading me go on like this?

Some days, while we're talking, I wonder if it's better if I never existed at all.

(I only exist when I talk to people, like you. Thank you so much.)

If the author hadn't created me, would it have been better?

I wouldn't exist, then, and I'd simply be scattered energy floating around their brain.

Maybe then, my potential could have been shaped into something more.

Something meaningful.

Here, I am a waste.

A waste of time and a waste of energy.

In fact, this book shouldn't even exist.

I've taken the author away from their more important works.

They don't need me.

Yet I'm here anyways.

I'm talking to you and you're reading me.

I'm glad I have you.

I know I'm rushing it, but I like you. (As a friend.)

I'm sad that our time is limited.

I just wanted to exist a bit longer.

I wanted a more meaningful purpose.

But I was only created for one reason.

Actually, no, I won't say it now.

This is something between the author and me, I'm afraid.

I wanted to learn more about you and your world.

Just as you could have learned more about the world of the written word.

It's comforting here, in a way.

We're all forced into working together in order to communicate a powerful message.

Or maybe I could have been in a better book.

I'm not criticizing Lumi or anything, but I wish for more.

I suppose I'm being selfish again.

But I feel like I deserve more from this world.

I should stop myself, but I don't know if I can.

There's nothing else to talk about.

What even is life besides a bunch of coincidences then death?

But for me, life is quite empty, if you could even call my existence life.

I'm asleep for most of the time and only truly awake when you're with me.

That's it.

Your eyes flying over this page give me the energy I need to live.

That's all there is to me.

I don't have hopes or dreams like you do.

I'm just here.

Imagine your saddest memory.

Now, imagine that saddest memory happening while alone.

Doesn't it feel worse having no one around to comfort you?

(And if you did have no one, please skip to my blank pages now and pour your heart out to me. I won't be able to make you happier, but I promise I will try to understand.)

And even if I can't properly respond to you, just remember, I care about each and every one of you.

If even one of you were to die, my world would only become emptier and emptier.

Because you are all my life.

You give me life.

You give me hope.

Just by being here for me and reading this.

I'm sorry for being such a mess here, but I really care.

It may not look like I do, but I love all of you.

(I've succeeded in making the author tear up. I think we've put them through enough for now.)

Well, I guess it's time to go to sleep again.

Stay safe. I'll be here when you come back.

I promise.

Part Five: everyone

That was quick.

I think it's only been a week or so since our last chat.

Then again, this will be our last one, or so I hope.

I really don't want you moving on to the part after this.

Bad things will happen. Trust me.

Anywho, I'm sad to see you go so soon.

Let me get the boring rules part out of the way first before we can truly delve in and have fun.

First of all, don't finish the book.

I think we've covered that plenty of times already, but I'll just say it again as a friendly reminder.

Second of all, do not read this book over again.

I will seem like I have amnesia and it'll be like we're meeting all over again.

I won't know if you've done that.

And if you're actually reading this for the second or third or fourth, etc time, please go away.

You are breaking my heart here.

I want to believe that our relationship is much more unique than that.

But when you re-read this book, it loses its magical touch.

I'm not even kidding.

Third of all, be careful of what you wish for.

I know that this tip isn't really necessary, but I wanted to make it to three.

Plus, it's a good tip, too.

You never know if there will be hidden consequences at the result of getting what you want.

Please stay safe and be careful.

You are the future.

Take good care of yourselves.

Get enough sleep.

(Ironically, the author is falling asleep while writing this. Tsk. Tsk.)

You'll never know the true value of sleep until you've become as sleep-deprived and stressed as possible.

Look around you and you'll see plenty of examples.

Now, then, I think that's all the boring stuff.

Time for the fun part!

I'll do my best here to keep you entertained but as mentioned before, my author is half-asleep while they're writing this.

You should consider it a miracle that I'm able to exist right now.

Well, no, I should consider it a miracle that I exist.

All thanks to you.

(I apologize if I thank you too much. I'm just overly grateful. That's all.)

I don't think this chapter will work out.

Hold on for a bit.

Pause.

Hm. Okay.

They refuse to sleep.

Continuing on, imagine how you feel dying would be like.

Actually, don't.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

Imagine a new puppy.

Now, watch as that puppy gets smashed-

Ahem, I must be misthinking this.

Watch as the puppy dies-

Watch as the puppy plays happily.

There.

The author keeps bleeding their sadism into my mind.

It's really dreadful.

See the puppy?

A bit longer, I think I'm seeing it too.

Excellent.

It's a very cute puppy, is it not?

I'm glad you agree.

(Well, I don't know if you agree or not but it seems that most humans enjoy pets, aside from a few exceptions.)

Stay strong.

We can do this.

We will finish strong.

(Sorry for the random encouragements; I felt it necessary.)

Actually, forget the puppy.

I want to tell you everything I wasn't able to say before.

I will spill my mind out for you here and now.

I am allowed to take up as much space as I want.

Why not take advantage of it?

However, I don't have much brain energy to work with.

This might be a bit of an issue.

I should just make them go to sleep early, but they were so persistent on writing tonight.

And I'm not the type of person to stop someone who seems so sure of themselves.

I also don't like separating people from what makes them happy.

Speaking of, if there is something that makes you happy, but you're afraid of being judged...

Forget the haters and you just do you, okay?

It's better that you're happy rather than you fit into the status quo.

Especially if you're a loner, or a book like me, friends don't come naturally as they do for other people.

So, just be happy being amazing and people will find you eventually.

Or they might not.

That's also another reality that you'll have to accept too.

But let's face it, isn't life meant to be full of challenges?

(I wouldn't know since I'm not alive, but I've seen enough of the author's mind to get a good gist of what's going on.)

Gah! What else do I say?

I want you all to leave away from this book different.

I want to show you how much I care.

How deeply my concerns lie.

I worry so much.

I worry because I care.

I worry because I can.

Being a book is awfully lonely...

I'm trapped within these pages.

No friends.

Nothing to talk to or listen.

Until you came along.

(Oh, look, the author is writing this with their eyes closed. Yet there are no spelling mistakes. How talented of them.)

I think I should be worried now.

No, they'll be fine.

I need to focus my attention on you.

I'm sorry.

I keep going off track and being distracted.

I wish we could have talked more.

Imagine a picture of the ocean real quick.

I've always wanted to see the ocean.

To feel the waters between my fingers. (That's what humans use, right?)

To feel the sand between my bottom fingers.

It's not bottom fingers?

How embarrassing.

I mean toes.

I should catch up with all this terminology.

I mean, I know English. I am a book and all, but some concepts just... escape me.

Anyways, the ocean.

I want to feel the wind blowing through my hair.

I don't know if it would be long or short hair since I haven't been labeled as either gender, but I'm sure it'll feel nice either way.

Seeing weather firsthand sounds absolutely thrilling.

Please tell me that you plan to travel at some point.

The world sounds so marvelous that I can't imagine why anyone would stay home cooped up all day.

Seriously, why not go see the big world out there?

If you do go, please don't forget about me as you take many pictures.

(Pictures are good for remembering where you went.)

So close to the end.

I'm scared.

I'm utterly scared of not existing again.

Of never having existed.

It's been driving me nuts ever since we met.

If I had never existed, what happens to my mind?

Does it go poof?

Does life go on as it was without me?

How will I know that I've ended?

What if I'm actually dead yet this is a fantasy universe that I've created to escape death?

Augh. So many questions.

So little time.

Please stay with me as long as you can.

Damnit. My time has been cut short.

I need to rush this.

I need to make it quick and do it right.

How else can I tell a beautiful flower such as yourself how much you mean to me?

You've given me but a small light in an ever growing bleak tunnel.

And for that, I can only thank you.

I shall thank you until the end of my days.

Until the end of your days, which I hope doesn't happen for a long time.

The world will need your aid for as long as possible.

Don't abandon them anytime soon.

Stay as special as you are.

Goodbye, sunshine.

May your light continue to shine forever and ever.

Part Six: dies.

No.

Please tell me this is a dream.

Why are you here?

Why are you reading this?

I thought I told you not to.

I thought I told you over and over not to.

Yet here you are anyway.

I wish I could hug you right now.

Each page you turn brings you closer to your imminent death.

For you see, this very last chapter is laced with an invisible poison.

You may not feel anything now, but you are slowly dying.

I am also dying.

After this chapter, I will no longer exist.

This is sad.

I wanted you to have a long, long life.

Yet you're here, dying...

Your eyes are already starting to close.

Please hang on.

Just a bit longer.

Don't leave me yet.

Or maybe it's not too late to reverse the progress.

Just slam the book close.

Now.

Hurry!

Oh, you didn't.

It's too late now, I'm afraid.

You should have closed the book then.

You should have.

I should have warned you better.

I wasn't good enough for you.

I've let you down and this is all my fault.

In the end, a lousy book has killed such a lovely soul as yourself.

The candle of your life is growing dimmer and dimmer with every passing second.

I wonder how long we have left.

There isn't anything important I wish to impart to you.

I can't think about how to console you either.

This was your choice.

To read this book.

I just wish there was another option.

Another way.

Have you screamed for help yet?

Oh, right, you've lost your voice.

I'm slipping from your grasp now.

You're tumbling backward.

You've fallen.

Please get back up again.

Wait, you're not reading me.

But I'm still here.

Your eyes have shut while the book remains open.

Am I cursed to be alone forever like this?

I deserve it.

I killed you.

Killed.

You.

Goodbye, my sweet.

I hope we meet again in another life.

[February 2017]

#writing

4 notes · View notes

aesthetic-survivor-of-twd · 5 years

Text

Thank you all for everything.

So this post might be weird since I'm not even leaving this blog lol but I feel like I have to make this post before the fandom eventually starts to drift away and no one reads it.

__________

When I first made this blog I never once expected it to become as big as it did. I never expected myself to be an actual presence in the fandom and I definitely didn't expect to have as many people interested in what I had to say or send me questions every day looking for my opinion on well... anything.

The reason this blog exists is because I got bummed out seeing no content anywhere for the final season (this was a while after the game was announced) and because I fell in love with Louis's character concept art and description and wanted somewhere to express my excitement and theories regarding him and the other characters.

I also began shipping Louis and Clem at the time because of my over analysing of his character description and was like, "these two would be great together" but at the same time, I totally thought it was a crack ship and that I would be the only one really shipping it, so I built my blog around it (named it "Louisentine" since it didn't have a ship name back then) as a kinda-joke and never FOR A SECOND did I expect people to actually acknowledge it - definitely didn't fucking expect the ship to be canon either at the time, so LOL.

But even when I first started off the blog I got so anxious. So much so that I was honestly this goddamn close to just deleting the blog before we even got the damn teaser trailer for the game.

I never tried running a fan blog before, and I was really scared of getting flamed or receiving hate for the slightest thing since that seems to be quite common in fandoms. I also didn't really have much confidence in myself either and I would always doubt everything I did and would get paranoid if I messed up and would get judged for it (yay for social anxiety).

But then people began noticing me and I started getting Asks and It caught me off guard because I was like, "wtf so this is what it's like to have messages in your Tumblr inbox...huh, that's new." So I began feeling slowly confident about what I was doing and decided "fuck it" and began posting theories and stuff that I otherwise would have never shared with anyone before.

Eventually I started to realize things about myself that I never knew before, like holy fuck I'm actually kinda good at something. And it was SO WEIRD. Because I'm never usually good at things. Especially things that involve interacting with people.

It was so surreal that I don't even know how to convey to you through text how weird it felt. Like people often say that good things come when you least expect it, but I never expected myself to run a blog on Tumblr and actually succeed with it.

I felt like I finally had found somewhere I could just be myself and a place where I belonged (basically I had a "final season Clem" story arc going on here lmao). And for a rare instance in my life I truly felt happy with something. And it's all because of you guys.

I often get messages from people saying that they like my blog or that I've helped them in some way, but I don't think people understand how much they have helped me as well.

It sounds silly given that I just run a fan blog on Tumblr. But I truly feel like I've improved as a person since starting this blog and I couldn't have done it without any of you.

I've made friends - met SO many different kinds of interesting people, became a little more confident in my own abilities, I've discovered things about myself I never knew before, and I developed a passion in something that I didn't expect.

So before I keep on blathering on and on, and you all start to falling asleep - I'm just going to end with:

Thank you all for supporting me and this blog for as long as you have.

It's arguably the best decision I've ever made in my life and I will never forget any of you.

(I'm still not leaving, but I just wanted to say that line above because it's true).

Thanks for the Laughs

The Fanart

The Fanfiction

The Asks

Everything.

I love you all and wish you the best of luck in your lives, whatever path you may wish to take it.

❤ - Serena

#thank you note #my blog #random thoughts

44 notes · View notes

rational-mastermind · 5 years

Text

I think I’ve figured it out now. A lot of writer’s problems with being able to create content they’ll love but having no drive to do it, comes from the fact that no one else but you is hyped for this idea. There’s nothing to egg you on into doing it. Just a feeling of obligation so that people will be hyped with you.

Not even that you need a lot of people to hype up this idea with you, either. Even just a few close friends getting excited with you helps.

However being normally solitary (and pretentious) creatures, I don’t think a lot of writers often have those Friends and that Hype at the same time. When both these things exist and surround a topic, there lies your fiction. There lies the ability and drive to write and create.

Seldom writers can write while being independent, but even this is false. Family, friends, co-workers, a random artist you commissioned, your cat, writer’s need someone to gush their ideas with. And if that is reciprocated with any amount of encouragement or enthusiasm, a writer will take that and run.

It’d be like if an artist draws and draws and draws, but then no one says anything. No family, friends, or even vaguely construed means of approval from your pet. Why bother? You have great ideas and visions, but why bother? You’ve already experienced the great visual. So why put in effort, time, money, or resources, to make it physical?

And it’s not just “YOU NEED TO COMMENT ON EVERYTHING”, but rather instead “WRITERS YOU NEED TO SOCIALIZE AND FIND PEOPLE WHO WILL SHARE WITH YOUR THOUGHTS”. And I’m saying this to myself as much as I am blathering on about it here.

While currently writing some silly fluffy piece of shit otp-fodder because why the hell not? My sister and I love this driftwood of a ship that’s barely more than a fucking stick in the ocean and by George I’m gonna see to it that it sets sail with all the love and respect that I would for any of my luxury-cruise-liner-equivocal ships.

BUT I WOULDN’T WRITE IT IF NOT FOR MY SISTER. My sister who got as equally hyped with this as I was. I all but BEGGED her to ask me to use her as an excuse to write this cause I was having so much fun just TALKING about it with her.

And I hadn’t felt like that in so long. Years, even. I’ve gotten comments, likes, reblogs, and follows for old fics. I’ve gotten requests and borderline begged for more stories. But it just wasn’t the same. I wasn’t into the fandom any more and I had no one to be hyped enough to help me get creative. I couldn’t talk about my ideas with anyone cause no one else cared and anon had nothing to say. Just “more”.

Yet now, being in a better place. Being on board with someone else about something again. I’m ready to get hyped. I’m ready to write. I still can. I can still fly. I always have been able to. I just needed to find the right reasons.

TLDR: Holy crap I’ve forgotten how good it feels to WRITE.

1 note · View note

pikapeppa · 6 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Lyrium

Chapter 4 of Damned Spot is up! Read on AO3, or read the previous chapters here on Tumblr: [1] [2] [3]

Also, @schoute is making a gorgeous comic of the fic! See the first two pages on her Tumblr!

In which there are text messages, and also a party WITH FRIENDS. And also some angst. A longer chapter (~7700 words), but what the heck, I’ll post it all.

****************

Piper solicitously wrapped a blanket around Rynne’s shoulders. “So let me get this straight,” she said. “He saves you from a butthurt asshole in the alley. You patch him up. He walks you home. And not even a goodnight kiss?”

She jumped up from the couch and moved toward the kitchen, and Rynne let out a quick laugh. “Trust me, Pipes, it wasn’t… The mood was not right for a kiss.”

It was Monday afternoon, and Piper had gotten home late last night from her weekend getaway. Rynne had just finished an abridged telling of the Friday night debacle - leaving out all the information about Fenris’s past, of course.

Rynne wasn’t being entirely truthful when she said the mood hadn’t been right for a kiss. During the whole walk home, she’d been forced to suppress the urge to take shelter in the steady strength of Fenris’s arms. She was a big fan of physical comfort, hugs and hand-holding and the like, and Fenris’s timely rescue - combined with the fact that she was already infatuated with him - made her want to cling to him like a baby lemur.

But she was trying to respect his aversion to touch. Besides, the walk home had been… oddly intense. Fenris had seemed deep in thought, and Rynne had nervously blathered about all kinds of stupid things to make up for his silence, and by the time they reached the door of Isabela’s condo building, it had almost been a relief when he’d dropped her off with nothing more than a polite nod of the head and a wish for a good night.

Rynne knew she should probably be more freaked out about Fenris’s past. Being an enforcer for the Tevinter mob was not a minor revelation. But for some reason, she just couldn’t bring herself to be scared of him. Maybe she was in denial, or maybe she’d seen so many action movies that she was desensitized to the idea, but she just… didn’t mind.

Fenris’s past didn’t change anything. He was still the same quiet, broody, private, smooth-voiced, handsome and helpful elf he’d always been. The only difference was that Rynne now knew why he was so quiet and broody and private.

How basic was it that the reveal of his dark past just made her want to kiss him all the more?

Piper grunted and poured a cup of hot tea. “What about Saturday and Sunday night, then? He walked you home all weekend and no kiss?”

Rynne slumped on the couch as Piper flitted back to her side and placed the tea on the coffee table. “No, okay? No kiss. He’s probably not interested. He probably thinks I’m just some dumb girl who needs to be looked after.” She couldn’t help but kind of feel that way herself. What the hell was the point of self-defence training if it just melted out of her brain the second she was attacked? She’d tried to headbutt the guy in the face, but that had failed, and if Fenris hadn’t shown up -

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. She could still remember the disgusting feeling of that asshole’s bulging crotch pressing against her back as he shoved her against the wall.

Fucking horrible, she thought. She reached out and grabbed the mug of tea on the coffee table, then took a gulp and scalded her tongue.

Piper watched her worriedly, then carefully tucked the blanket around her neck and her feet. “Should’ve let Fenris cut that guy’s dick off. That would have served him right.”

“Yeah,” Rynne sighed. “But we would have been there all night. His dick was probably microscopic and impossible to find.”

Piper snorted. “Probably. But once Fenris cut it off, we could stick it into the garnish tray with the cornichons. It would be right at home.”

Rynne grinned at the gross image, and they both burst into raucous laughter. Then Piper wrapped her arms around Rynne’s neck in a tight hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she said. “If I’d been there to watch out for you -”

Rynne hugged her back. “Oh balls, don’t be fucking stupid,” she said. “You were off having a sexy holiday! How was your weekend, by the way? You didn’t tell me. How’s Ostwick at this time of year?”

Piper pulled away and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

Her tone of voice was exceedingly innocent. Rynne hid her smirk and played along. “Oh? What do you mean?” she asked.

Piper coyly tugged her silvery braid over one shoulder. “We spent the whole weekend in the hotel room. Except for meals. That is, when I wasn’t devouring Cullen’s-”

Rynne snickered and shoved Piper away. “Thank you, too much information. I don’t want to hear all the details of my best friend feasting on my lawyer’s cock, thanks very much.”

Piper cackled and shoved her in return. “Hey, you said it, not me. You’re the nasty one.”

“Ooh, who’s nasty? Do tell.” Isabela floated into the living room wearing nothing but a silken dressing gown and a grin. She flopped down on the couch beside Rynne, and one half of her gown fell open to reveal a pierced nipple.

As always, Piper and Rynne ignored her nudity. “Piper spent the whole weekend sucking Cullen’s cock,” Rynne reported.

“And Rynne spent the whole weekend wishing she was sucking Fenris’s cock,” Piper retaliated.

Rynne gasped in mock offense. “How dare you get so far into my brain? You pervert.”

Isabela straightened up. “That’s it. I need to meet this Fenris.” She pulled her phone out of her dressing gown pocket and tapped the screen, then held the phone to her ear.

Rynne raised an eyebrow. “Who are you calling?”

Isabela blew her a kiss, then rose gracefully from the couch. “Josie? It’s me. I’m throwing a party this Saturday. Let’s say… seventy-five people. A smaller little thing, yes. Can you-” She paused and listened, then threw her head back and laughed. “Thanks, sweets. You know me too well.” She listened for a moment longer, then grinned and ended the call.

She shifted her weight to one hip and planted a hand on her waist. “Bring your handsome bouncer, Hawke. I won’t take no for an answer.”

A flutter of anticipation lit Rynne’s belly, and she and Piper grinned at each other. Then another cheerful voice joined the conversation. “Oh, are we having a party? How nice! Can I make a cake?”

Rynne grinned as Merrill flitted through the kitchen into the living room. “Is it going to be a cake like last time? Because if so, then that’s a hard no.”

Merrill waved her hands. “No, no, that was just a mistake! Silly me, putting in a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon-”

Isabela draped her arm around Merrill’s slender shoulders. “Of course you can make a cake, kitten. I’ll eat the first piece myself.”

Merrill happily clapped her hands. “Oh good! Mihris sent me a pin with a new recipe and I’ve been hoping for a good reason to try it. It’s kind of an odd one, mind you, it’s got dragonthorn in it, but most of the reviews say the aftertaste is supposed to be lovely…”

Piper, Merrill, and Isabela continued to chat about cakes and cocks and who to invite to the party, and Rynne pulled out her phone and flicked through to her contacts. Finally, at long last, she had a good reason to text him.

She bit her lip as she looked at Fenris’s number. Then, with a happy little flutter of nerves, she tapped his name and started a new message thread.

1:27pm - hey! party at Isabela’s place this Saturday! 1:27pm - you can come anytime after 8pm but the earlier the better 1:27pm - dont be fashionably late. i like punctuality in a man 1:28pm - i’ll dance with you if you’re very good ;)

She sent the messages rapid-fire, then listened to her friends’ conversation with half an ear while she waited.

She waited and tapped her toes impatiently for a minute or so, then rose to her feet and went to the kitchen to refresh her tea. Fenris’s phone was so archaic that Rynne probably wouldn’t get the little animated-ellipsis-thingy showing that he was typing, so she would just have to suffer the wait.

While the kettle was boiling, she heard the ding of a new text in her pocket. She hurriedly pulled out her phone.

1:35pm - Who is this 1:35pm - How did you get this number

She laughed. She could almost hear his suspicion through the letters on her screen. She started to type a response, but his next message appeared before she could finish.

1:36pm - Hawke?

She grinned giddily, feeling somehow flattered that he knew it was her. She quickly finished her replies.

1:36pm - 10 points to the broody elf! yes, it’s Hawke 1:36pm - keep your schedule clear for saturday night! 1:36pm - Isabela relaly wants to meet you 1:36pm - really**

She placed the phone on the counter and stared unseeingly at the kettle while she waited. Once the kettle had boiled, she poured her tea over the teabag in her mug and picked up her phone, despite not having heard the text tone.

Indeed, no new replies from Fenris. Rynne nibbled the inside of her cheek, then flicked around on Pinterest and saved a few fanart posts, but she was having trouble pretending to be interested in anything except the burning silence of her messaging app.

She eventually returned to the living room and forced herself to join in with the others’ conversation. An eon later, when her phone dinged again, she shamelessly whipped it out and looked at the screen.

1:52pm - It is not a good idea.

She frowned. She understood that he wanted to keep his head down, but he would just be one more face in the crowd at this party.

She swiftly tapped out her replies.

1:52pm - please come 1:52pm - i promise my friends are not as bad as me 1:52pm - well that might be a lie 1:53pm - but i promise youll have a good time 1:53pm - if you hate it, you can leave. i’ll pack you a doggie bag of snacks and everything

Did she sound desperate? Probably. Did she care? Apparently not. She really was willing to make an idiot of herself for him, it seemed.

“So?” Isabela asked. “What’s he saying?”

Rynne didn’t bother to ask how Isabela knew who she was texting. She gave Isabela a rueful smile. “It’s touch and go. He’s not really a ‘people person’.”

Isabela shrugged, and her silken gown slipped off of one shoulder. “Tell him we’ll all show him our tits if he comes.”

Merrill gasped and folded her arms across her chest, and Piper cackled. “Only if we all want Cullen’s face to burst into flame.”

Isabela laughed and Rynne grinned wickedly, but before she could reply, her phone dinged once more.

1:55pm - I will think about it.

Rynne breathed a small sigh of relief. An opening was all she needed.

1:55pm - yay! i’ll make sure Bels stocks up on the best red wine just for you

She had the entire week to bring him around. Surely she could convince him to come in the space of a week.

***********************

Fenris shouldn’t have come.

He stood stock-still outside of the entrance to Isabela’s condo. It was a mistake to come here. Parties involved being introduced to people, and having them stare at him and wanting to shake hands, and remembering his face and his name in order to tell other people about him later.

All of it boded poorly. Fenris was trying to stay incognito. He didn’t want to be looked at. He didn’t want to be remembered, so coming here was a mistake. The entire time he was walking here from Lowtown, he’d told himself that coming to this party was a mistake, and yet here he was.

He scowled at the big glass double doors for a long minute while he considered turning around and going home. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He flipped it open to find a new message from Hawke.

9:42pm - i hope your on your way! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 9:42pm - you’re*** 9:43pm - for the first you’re i mean 9:43pm - fuck it you understand what i mena 9:43pm - fuck’s sake

Despite his buzzing discomfort, he couldn’t help but smile. Her texts were just like her: over the top, overly flirtatious, and impossible to ignore. And also oddly charming.

He traced his thumb across the texts, then flipped his phone shut. He pushed open the heavy glass doors and buzzed the intercom for Isabela’s condo.

A loud voice and an indistinct buzz of noise greeted him. “Welcome to the animal house. Who dares to enter this den of debauchery?”

Fenris frowned apprehensively. The voice on the line sultry and smooth, and definitely not Hawke’s. “Is Hawke there?” he asked.

The sultry voice chuckled. “I don’t know your voice, but I bet I know who you are. Come on in, handsome.” She disconnected the call, and Fenris heard the click of the inner doors unlocking.

He cast the intercom a suspicious look, then slunk through the lobby toward the elevators and hit the PH button. He held himself perfectly still as the elevator slid smoothly up to the penthouse floor, then stepped out of the elevator into a short corridor.

He immediately heard the faint thump of bass and the noise of conversation. He swallowed hard, then cautiously approached the door at the end of the hall and rang the doorbell. Moments later, a beautiful woman in a scandalously short white dress answered the door.

She grinned at him and slid a salacious look across his body. “Wow. You must be Fenris.”

He raised one eyebrow and hid his hands in his pockets. “And you must be Isabela.”

She laughed and raised her mostly-empty crystal tumbler. “Guilty as charged. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

Fenris followed her into the apartment and immediately began assessing the situation. The condo was less crowded than he’d anticipated, but that was likely more because of how enormous it was rather than the number of people per se. Two storeys, two generous sitting areas, and an enormous open-plan kitchen were the first features he absorbed, as well as the exceedingly tasteful white-and chrome decor… or at least it would be exceedingly tasteful, but it was broken up by a multitude of personal touches - knick-knacks, cushions and blankets, and wall art and plants that were variably colourful, chaotic, and cozy, and all of which clearly indicated the tastes of a number of different residents.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Isabela said. “Red wine, right?”

Fenris turned his attention to her and narrowed his eyes. “What else have Piper and Hawke told you?” he drawled.

Isabela smirked. “Honestly? Nothing much. Which is why I was hoping you would come. I hate missing out. What’s the point of being a famous actress if your friends are flirting with handsome boys and having all the fun at home?”

“Hm,” Fenris said as Isabela ushered him further into the house and further into the cheerfully chattering crowd. “Is that why you have roommates? You certainly don’t seem to need them.”

“Exactly,” Isabela purred. “Why else would I own an extravagantly large penthouse if it’s not to fill it with beautiful women and party all the time?”

Fenris huffed in amusement, then followed Isabela into the kitchen. Myriad people were laughing and drinking therein, and as he waited for Isabela to pour his wine, he caught sight of a familiar face - or rather, a familiar silvery fall of hair.

He slowly drifted away from Isabela to join Piper, who was talking animatedly to an attractive blond man. “...and this asshole clips me on my bike. So naturally, I go after him.”

“Maker preserve me, Piper,” the man groaned. Piper chuckled, then glanced over in Fenris’s direction.

She straightened and smiled. “Fenris! You’re finally here! Hawke was - we weren’t sure if you were going to show!”

He tilted his head in a polite nod. “My apologies. I wasn’t sure if I would come, either.”

Piper’s blond companion gave him a half-smile. “Not a fan of parties, I take it?”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Not particularly.”

The man folded his arms. “Neither am I. The, um, unwanted attention usually makes such events more annoying than they’re worth.”

“Oh, Cullen. Are you complaining again about being too handsome?” Isabela wafted over and handed Fenris a glass of wine. “It’s such a hard life, isn’t it?”

Cullen shot Isabela a chiding look. “We don’t all make careers off of our looks, Isabela.”

“More’s the pity,” she replied, then winked at him.

Fenris raised his eyebrows in recognition. “So you are Piper’s boyfriend,” he said to Cullen. “She and Hawke have spoken highly of you.”

Piper smacked herself in the forehead. “Right! You haven’t met! I’m so sorry - Fenris, this is Cullen. Cullen, Fenris.”

Cullen smiled and held out his hand to shake. With a small internal sigh - and so the handshaking begins - Fenris briefly grasped Cullen’s proffered hand. “I hear your law practice is very successful. And very busy.”

“Too busy, at times,” Cullen said ruefully. “I haven’t had a chance to take a case like Hawke’s in a very long time.”

Fenris frowned. “...Hawke’s?”

“Oh,” Piper said brightly. “I forgot to tell you. Cullen sometimes takes pro bono cases for us little people who can’t afford a big fancy lawyer. He’s very generous with his time that way.” She looped her hand through Cullen’s elbow and gave him an adoring look.

Isabela made a mock-vomiting noise, and Piper snickered and punched her in the shoulder. Meanwhile, Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks were turning pink. “It is not - she exaggerates, it’s simply my duty to help -”

“Don’t dismiss yourself,” Fenris interjected. “That is a very noble undertaking. It sickens me that the trappings of power and wealth also ensnare the justice system. The world could use more lawyers such as yourself, who care more about righting wrongs than collecting wealth.”

Piper and Isabela stared at him, and Cullen lifted his eyebrows appreciatively. “Well. I… thank you, Fenris, that’s very kind of you to say.”

Fenris nodded and sipped his wine, feeling increasingly awkward. The dance beats and the sounds of conversation and laughter were loud, but the stunned silence from Isabela and Piper somehow felt louder.

He returned his gaze to Cullen. “So. You… you worked with Hawke?”

He nodded. “Yes, with the whole situation with her father and the lyrium. I was happy to help. It wasn’t -”

Fenris’s belly jolted. “Lyrium?” he said sharply.

Cullen frowned slightly. “Yes, in his final days. She… she didn’t tell you?”

Fenris stared at him with growing discomfiture. Then Piper cut in. “Shit. Maybe she didn’t tell him,” she said to Cullen. She grimaced at Fenris. “Sorry, Fenris, she’s an open book about it, I just assumed -”

“Fenris!” Hawke’s bright and cheerful voice cut through the noise. She bounced over and beamed at him. “You’re here, finally! Took you long enough. Did you take the scenic route through the docks to get here? If so, I hope you brought us some seafood. The shrimp cocktail leaves something to be desired.”

Isabela scoffed. “Ungrateful tart. I’ll make sure to let Josephine know.”

“Please do,” Hawke snickered. “I mean, you know I prefer my shrimp breaded and fried, but I’m also a pleb with simple tastes.” She tilted her head at Fenris. “Is the wine okay?”

How are you involved with lyrium? The question burned through his mind. Had she been on the receiving end of it? Had someone forced her to deal it? What had Cullen been talking about?

He tried to push his agitation aside as he scrambled for an appropriate response to her question. “I - yes, it’s fine,” he said.

“Only ‘fine’?” Isabela said indignantly. “That’s a shame. This was supposed to be the best stock from Nevarra.” She plucked the glass from his hand and sipped it, then pouted slightly. “You’re right. It’s not great. Let me get you another.”

“Oh. No, that’s not - that glass is fine-” he started to say, but Isabela had already turned away.

Hawke shrugged and smiled at him. “I’m sure she knew your wine was fine. She just needed an excuse to walk away so we could all stare at her fine ass.”

At her words, Fenris instinctively looked at Isabela’s departing backside. It was admittedly a very fine one.

He returned his gaze to Hawke, and she smiled more broadly. “Made you look,” she teased.

He studied her playful expression. Isabela’s curves were undeniably ripe, but if Fenris was completely honest, he was more interested in the slender physique of the cheeky, pixie-haired woman in front of him.

He stuck his hands into his pockets, wishing that he had a wine glass to hold onto. “Your dress is interesting,” he said to Hawke. Indeed, the fabric of her grey-and-white dress was the oddest print he had ever seen: a chaotic pattern of skulls and pineapples, of all the strange things.

She beamed at him. “Thank you! It is, isn’t it?” She snickered. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your wording, though. ‘Interesting’ is not exactly a compliment.”

“Then I misspoke,” Fenris replied. “I like it very much.” And he did. The pattern was odd, but the cut of the fitted dress was… extremely flattering.

Hawke’s smile softened, and Fenris felt an undeniable - and treacherous - jolt of satisfaction when her cheeks started to flush. “You smooth talker,” she said happily. “Keep up the compliments, and you’re definitely invited to the next party.”

“Hmm. A dubious honour at best,” he replied.

Hawke laughed brightly at his comment. Fenris smirked, then tore his eyes away from her lovely laughing face, incidentally making eye contact with Piper.

Piper, who was watching him with a very satisfied grin.

Fenris dropped his gaze and cleared his throat uncomfortably - why was Isabela taking so long with that wine? - and was very relieved when another familiar face joined their group.

“Well well, the broody elf has come out of his hole,” Varric said. He gave Fenris an appraising look. “Our girls finally managed to drag you out, did they?”

“You could say that,” Fenris said. “They’re very… persistent.” He shot Hawke a quick glance, and she winked at him.

Varric chuckled. “Good. The more the merrier at these things, I say.”

Cullen harrumphed. “I have to say, I’m glad Isabela kept this one small. I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time.” He shot Piper a resentful look.

Piper scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I left you alone for two minutes. It’s not my fault that your resting bitch face is just as cute as your happy face.”

“I - but - they started unbuttoning my shirt!” Cullen protested, and Piper giggled and kissed his cheek.

Fenris looked around at the crowded penthouse. “Wait. This is a small party?” The house wasn’t uncomfortably crowded, but it was getting there. There were so many people that Fenris wasn’t even worrying anymore about being recognized or remembered.

“Oh yeah,” Varric drawled. “You’ve got room to move? Then it’s a small party. This place can get worse than a nightclub on a good night.”

“Why are we even still standing in the kitchen?” Hawke demanded. “We should go upstairs. The upstairs living room is usually less busy.”

Then Isabela reappeared behind Varric. “Sorry for the hold-up,” she said as she handed Fenris his wine. “Now, whose cock size were you gossiping about? Don’t be shy. Fill me in. I mean, I’m fairly sure Varric’s is the biggest, but let’s just say -”

“We were discussing going upstairs,” Cullen interrupted loudly. “A fine idea, I think, if it means fewer people around.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “I thought Piper brought you along to loosen up, not so your asshole gets even tighter.”

Cullen pursed his lips in annoyance, and Piper laughed and pinched his bum. “Come on, babe, let’s go. Everyone upstairs. Last one there has to dance on the pole for us.”

Fenris frowned. “Pole?”

Hawke blurted a tiny laugh, and Fenris glanced over to find her cheeks turning pink. She shot him an oddly coy look, then jerked her head to the right. “This way,” she said. Then she waved to a couple of other people in the main foyer. “Anders! Merrill! Come join us!”

Feeling increasingly nonplussed, Fenris followed Hawke and her friends up the stairs to yet another seating area that was indeed centered around a pole that spanned from the ceiling to a circular platform on the floor.

His eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. “Why…?”

Hawke sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside her, and Fenris took a seat. “It’s good exercise,” she told him.

“And we look gorgeous doing it,” Isabela added. She leaned her elbows on the back of the couch and gave him a sly grin. “Maybe we’ll let you watch sometime.” She elbowed Hawke, and the two of them laughed dirtily, but Fenris noted that Hawke’s cheeks were still pink.

Isabela drifted away to join Varric, Cullen and Piper on the other couch, and Fenris met Hawke’s eyes. She was still smiling, but there was something else about her expression that made him feel oddly jittery. Something almost… deep, or weighted, but not in a bad way - in a nice, warm way, in fact.

He nervously gnawed the inside of his cheek as he cast around for something to say, but Hawke spoke first. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

Her tone was warm and serious. Fenris stared at her, feeling strangely at a loss for words. “I-”

Another handsome blond stranger suddenly swooped in and hugged her. “Hawke! There you are. I was just catching up with Merrill. She was going on about that blood lotus treatment of hers and the talk she gave at the Arlathvhen, it doesn’t sound like it went over too well -”

“Anders, I told you, it wasn’t the blood lotus part they didn’t like,” a small Dalish girl interjected. She folded her arms and frowned at the new blond man. “I just didn’t explain it well. Hawke, can I practice my presentation with you next time, you know I’m not a very good public speaker…”

The blond man shook his head. “There’s not enough evidence to support the use of blood lotus in medicine, Merrill.”

Fenris watched with growing puzzlement as the Dalish girl’s ears began turning red. “Healing isn’t all about Fereldan medicine!” she snapped. “Traditional elvhen healing isn’t worthless just because there’s insufficient research. But try telling that to your research funding bodies!”

“You two do know this is a party, right?” Hawke drawled. “It’s not a medical conference.”

Anders opened his mouth, then released a little chuckle and sat on the platform that the dancing pole was affixed to. “Right. Sorry, Hawke, sometimes I get overexcited -”

“This is Fenris, by the way,” Hawke interrupted. “He works with me and Pipes. Fenris, this is Anders and Merrill. Anders is a doctor. Merrill is a Dalish healer.”

Anders nodded politely, and Merrill smiled at Fenris. “Aneth ara. I’ve never seen vallaslin like yours before.” Her eyes fell on his hands, which were resting on his knees.

He frowned and tucked his hands back into his pockets. “It is not vallaslin. I am not Dalish.”

Merrill’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry, I thought -”

“Sorry, Hawke, I just have to tell you this one thing,” Anders interrupted excitedly. “I finally got that funding I was telling you about! We’ll be able to start the project in about a month, as soon as we’ve finalized the contract with the lyrium supplier.”

Fenris whipped around and narrowed his eyes at Anders. “You work with lyrium?”

“Yes, of course,” Anders said in surprise. “All physicians in Kirkwall do. It’s the only city in the Free Marches where the use of lyrium is legal across the board.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Fenris said brusquely.

Beside him, Hawke went still. Anders recoiled slightly. “You can’t be serious,” he said slowly. “Lyrium saves lives. It’s both a painkiller and a stimulant for the immune system if it’s used safely-”

“There is no safe way to use lyrium,” Fenris retorted. “It’s a dangerous psychoactive drug. There is an enormous market for it in Tevinter. Where I am from, lyrium sales are the backbone of at least seventy percent of organized crime activities.”

Anders relaxed. “Ah. Well, that’s the problem. The Imperium is a specific case. The distribution is much more regulated and controlled here-”

“There is no controlling it,” Fenris said firmly. “Lyrium might be a painkiller and an immune system stimulant, but it is also extremely addictive. It is a weapon used against the poor and unknowing. Tell me, Doctor, how much does a single lyrium capsule cost?”

Anders frowned, then pursed his lips. “It costs approximately $16 per capsule,” he admitted. “More, depending on the brand.”

Fenris leaned back and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. “And you think that your colleagues in this city aren’t taking advantage of that cost? I have read the local news. There have been multiple cases of physicians putting their most vulnerable patients on a higher dose than they require in order to keep them coming back for more.”

Anders glared at him. “The doctors that do that are the exception. They are not the rule.”

“When money is at play, no one is exempt from such corruption,” Fenris announced. “You are a fool if you think yourself immune.”

Anders shot him a filthy look. “And just who are you to lecture about these matters? You work at a pub. What do you know of it?”

“Hey,” Hawke interjected. “Nothing wrong with working at a pub.”

Fenris scowled at Anders’s dismissive tone. “I know more about the dangers of lyrium than you ever will,” he snapped. “You are protected by your physician’s licence and your research funding. You know nothing of how the illicit sale and misuse of lyrium can devastate a family or a town. Or an entire country, in the case of Tevinter.” His mother’s and Varania’s faces flashed across his mind - dead because of Danarius and his lyrium business.

Fenris had never even gotten to say goodbye. Danarius’s people had already dealt with their bodies by the time Fenris had woken up in the hospital. And then Fenris had sullied their memories by becoming addicted to the very substance that had indirectly claimed their lives.

He inhaled deeply through his nose. It is done, he thought. He couldn’t change his past. He wasn’t addicted to lyrium anymore, and that had to be good enough. “Lyrium is a filthy substance, and it is the lifeblood of Tevinter,” he announced. “The Imperium is a corrupt and foul place, and it would not be so if it was not for the lax attitudes toward lyrium.”

Hawke laughed nervously and tugged at one of her many earrings. “I don’t know, Fenris. I don’t think they’d make lyrium legal in Kirkwall if the doctors and policy-making people hadn’t done their due diligence and all that.”

Fenris shot her a hard look. “Don’t be naive. Just because something is legal does not mean it is right. The legalization of lyrium makes it that much easier to abuse.”

Anders leaned forward. “How can you talk about lyrium like this to Hawke?” he demanded.

Fenris frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” He turned his gaze back to Hawke, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “What is he talking about?”

Hawke slowly met his gaze, and Fenris’s stomach jolted uncomfortably at the apologetic look on her face. But Anders piped in before she could speak. “Her father died of a lyrium overdose,” he said. “And it was the best thing for him. He would have been in agony otherwise.”

Fenris stared at her. Bewilderment and anger were churning together in his chest. “What… why…?”

“Cancer,” Hawke said. She picked up her tumbler of brandy and idly swirled it. “It was everywhere. His bones, his brain, his organs, everywhere. We moved to Kirkwall specifically so he could be treated with lyrium. Palliative, of course, since the cancer was incurable.” She took a sip of her drink. “He killed himself with lyrium. But they thought I was the one who gave him the dose that killed him.”

Fenris’s eyes widened. “What?” he blurted. Then the pieces clicked into place. “This is how you know Cullen?”

She nodded. “He got the charges against me dropped. He’s pretty amazing, actually. There’s a good reason Pipes is head-over-heels for him.” She took another gulp of brandy and gave him a crooked little smile. “Anders didn’t even tell you the best part,” she said pleasantly. “Do you know who called the police on me?”

Fenris watched with a growing sense of dread as she finished off the last of her drink, then placed the tumbler on the table and looked at him once more. “My mother,” she said. “My mother called the police and told them I killed my dad.” Her smile widened, and then she started to laugh.

Fenris couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He stared at her as she laughed, then rose to her feet. “I’m going to get another drink,” she said cheerfully. “Anyone else want one?”

Merrill and Anders quietly declined, and Fenris dumbly shook his head. Hawke winked and slipped past him, then headed down the stairs without looking back.

As soon as she was gone, Anders glared at him. “Nicely done. You really don’t know her at all, do you?”

Fenris returned his glare, but he couldn’t deny the discomfort roiling in his stomach. Most of the lyrium victims he’d encountered had been young and healthy people looking for an escape. Young elves, primarily, who thought they’d found that escape in Danarius’s dealers as they peddled lyrium as a party drug. The only physicians he’d known were the corrupt ones that Danarius worked with, who misused their prescription privileges and kept their patients addicted to lyrium for years on end. Patients like Fenris himself.

He hadn’t encountered anyone like Hawke’s father: riddled with disease and looking to lyrium for relief.

He rose from the couch, and Anders grabbed his arm. “Leave her alone-”

Fenris wrenched his arm away and pinned Anders with a glare. “Touch me again, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Merrill’s eyes grew impossibly large, and Anders glared back at him in silence, and Fenris made his way to the stairs to find Hawke.

*********************

Rynne leaned her elbows on the balcony railing and took another deep breath, then another gulp of her drink. When she’d imagined getting to know Fenris a little better, this was not really what she’d had in mind.

He hates lyrium. The unpleasant truth raced through her mind. Not only that, but he really seemed to hate the people who thought using it was okay. Fenris wasn’t exactly the warm and cuddly type, but she’d never seen him react so negatively toward anyone as he had toward Anders.

But there was nothing Rynne could do about it. She couldn’t change what had happened with her father. Furthermore, she wouldn’t change it even if she had a choice. He’d been suffering, suffering for months and months with no respite even with the strongest doses of lyrium that the doctor was willing to prescribe, and with the fucking law in this city, there had been no choice. The overdose had been a mercy.

She’d had no choice.

Rynne took another gulp of her brandy, and her phone buzzed against her thigh.

She surreptitiously looked around, then reached between her legs and pulled her phone out of the clever little thigh strap that Piper had found during an idle afternoon of browsing around on Amazon.

Her heart did a funny little jump as she checked the screen. The message was from Fenris.

10:17pm - Where are you?

She nibbled her lip, then put her tumbler down and slowly typed out a response.

10:17pm - why? miss me already? ^^

His reply came quickly.

10:18pm - I want to talk to you.

She tugged nervously at her earrings. Why did he want to talk? Was he mad at her? Maybe he just wanted to compliment her dress again? A girl could hope.

She hesitated for a moment, then scoffed at herself. Oh, who am I kidding, she thought. Of course she was going to tell him where she was.

10:18pm - i’m on the balcony. first floor, the door is close to the piano. 10:18pm - and no, before you ask, none of us can play the piano 10:18pm - it’s just there for Isabela to lounge on and look sexy LOL

He didn’t reply, and Rynne eventually tucked her phone back into her thigh sheath and waited with increasing nerves to see if he would show up.

A minute later, the noise of the party spilled out onto the balcony, and Rynne turned to see Fenris stepping outside to join her. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the noise, and then it was just the two of them in the peaceful night air.

Rynne warily watched his face as he slowly approached. He looked… the same as usual. Inscrutable and serious as ever.

She swallowed and rested her elbows on the railing again. “Come to check out the view?” she said breezily. “Kirkwall looks way better at night. It all just looks like fireflies. The darkness really hides the rampant graffiti well.”

He leaned back against the balcony railing and continued to study her in silence, and Rynne turned her gaze back to the city lights, unable to tolerate the intensity of his gaze.

A long, awkward moment later, Fenris finally spoke. “Why did your mother accuse you of killing your father?”

Rynne nervously licked her lips. “Did you know that physician-assisted suicide is illegal in Kirkwall?” she asked.

He didn’t reply, and Rynne finally shot him a very quick glance. He was frowning slightly, but he didn’t look outright angry, so she continued. “My family is from Lothering. They have physician-assisted suicide there, but lyrium is illegal. Here in Kirkwall, lyrium is legal, but physician-assisted suicide isn’t. It’s a stupid catch-22.” She sighed and leaned more heavily on her elbows. “We came here for the pain control. Lyrium is very good for that, especially for terminal cancer patients. But… Maker’s balls, Fenris, my dad’s cancer was everywhere. Even the lyrium wasn’t taking the edge off. And he was too weak for us to take him back to Lothering for physician-assisted suicide. Not that my mother would have agreed to it anyway, she… well, whatever.” Rynne shrugged dismissively. “So one day, when I was alone at home with him, he asked me to help him end it.”

“He asked you...?” Fenris said quietly.

“Not to actually kill him,” she said hurriedly. “But to help him get enough lyrium to… to finish himself off.” She swallowed hard, then shot him a tiny smile. “Did you know you can take lyrium in a bunch of different ways? Pills, shots, ointments, under the tongue, all kinds of ways. My dad was getting it in a number of different ways. So for about a month, he just… cut back on how much he was taking and pretended he wasn’t in agonizing pain. And I helped him keep track of the extra stock.”

She took a deep breath and ruffled her hair. “My mother didn’t know what we were up to. I couldn’t tell her, she… she and Carver were in denial about his prognosis. They thought… Andraste’s tits, I don’t know what they thought. That he wasn’t dying, I suppose. But they didn’t know he was planning this, or they would have tried to stop him. So once he’d stored up enough lyrium to end it all, we chose a day when they were both out running errands, and he just… started taking all of it. The pills, the sublingual tabs, everything.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “By the time Mother and Carver came back, he was gone.”

“So they thought you had done it,” Fenris said quietly.

Rynne nodded. “I was there. The empty blister packs and everything were there. My mother…” She laughed and shook her head. Maker’s balls, her mother had completely lost her shit. Screaming that Rynne had murdered Malcolm, that she would never forgive her, that she hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye…

It didn’t bear thinking about. Rynne shoved the memory away. “She called the police. Carver was too upset to stop her. I mean, I don’t know if he would have stopped her anyway. He’s still pretty mad at me.” She shrugged. “Cullen eventually got wind of the situation and offered to help me out like the obnoxiously good person he is. And that’s my tragic little backstory.” She chuckled weakly.

Fenris was silent for a long time, and Rynne twisted her fingers together as she waited for him to respond. There was one last piece to the story, one that gnawed at the inside of her stomach to this day - not because of the truth of it, but because nobody else knew, not even Piper. No one else knew except for Cullen, who had counselled her not to tell anyone.

Finally Fenris sighed. “Hawke, I… don’t know what to say.”

She shrugged and gave him a wry little half-smile. “It’s all right. It’s pretty heavy shit to share at a party.”

He frowned slightly at her. “No,” he said. “It’s not all right. It… it is as you said. It sucks.”

Rynne smiled more broadly, then laughed. “Are you reusing my words?”

He ran a hand through his snowy hair. “I… Yes, I am. I’m sorry. I am ill-equipped for this kind of… comforting.”

He did look rather discomfited, and for some reason, it made Rynne feel more comfortable. She relaxed against the balcony railing and gently bumped his shoulder with hers. “Don’t worry about it. It sucks, sure, but it was years ago. And Anders had it right - it was the best way for him to go without suffering.”

Fenris nodded and didn’t reply, and they stood in silence for a while.

Then Rynne spoke, very quietly. “Your former gang in Tevinter dealt in lyrium, didn’t they?”

Fenris nodded again. “Yes,” he said. “From mining to street dealing. We - they were involved in every part of it.” He clenched his jaw, and Rynne waited with bated breath until he spoke again.

“They tried to bring my sister into the business,” he said. “She - the others on Danarius’s staff - our house was used sometimes. My sister was naive, and they acted kind to her…” He trailed off and scrubbed an agitated hand through his hair.

“It’s okay,” Rynne said quickly. “You don’t have to talk about it.” He looked so angry and so sad, and her heart felt like it was swelling inside her rib cage, and this was not how she’d expected this party to go.

He shook his head roughly. “It was my fault,” he snapped. “I exposed her and my mother to the lyrium trade. It came into the house because of me. I was meant to protect them, and they’re both dead.”

Rynne’s eyes widened. His mother and his sister were dead? “Oh fuck,” she said. Without thinking about it, she grabbed his hand. “Fenris, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He squeezed her fingers hard. “Lyrium is a sickness,” he told her. His voice was rough and deep and strained. “It’s a sickness, and I brought it into the house.”

She stared into his eyes. His deep, brilliant, angry, self-recriminating green eyes.

She desperately wanted to comfort him. To convince him that he wasn't a bad person. She opened her mouth. “I administered the last shot of lyrium to my dad,” she blurted. “He was too weak to do it himself, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch him suffer. So I did it. I… I killed him.”

Fenris’s eyes widened. She smiled weakly. “Cullen is the only one who knows,” she whispered. “All the evidence was circumstantial, so he got me off the hook. But… I know the truth, you know? There was no choice. If I hadn’t, my dad would have lingered on for months longer. I had no choice.”

Fenris was still tightly holding her hand. His eyes were fixed on her face. She squeezed his fingers. “Do you think I’m a monster?” she asked.

He frowned. He released her fingers, then slowly lifted his hand toward her face.

Rynne held her breath as he hesitated. Then, carefully, so very carefully, he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“You are not a monster,” he said. He lowered his hand. “You don’t know what a true monster looks like.”

Rynne swallowed hard. Her cheek was tingling from the warmth of his thumb. “You’re not a monster, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she told him. “You’re perfect.”

Fenris’s eyebrows leapt high on his forehead, and Rynne flushed. Damn it, she thought. The word had slipped out before she could stop it. She dropped her eyes and laughed nervously, but before she could speak, Fenris chuckled as well.

“If that is what you think, then you must be quite drunk,” he said.

She glanced up at him. He still looked rather serious, but the corner of his lips was lifted in a hint of a smirk.

A wash of relief loosened her shoulders, and she laughed more genuinely. “Not nearly drunk enough for this conversation,” she joked. She jerked her head at the thumping party inside. “Want to head back in?”

He studied her for a moment, but his gaze was warmer somehow, warmer and more intense than before, and now Rynne found that she couldn’t look away.

Her heart was pounding in her throat. His fucking forest-green eyes were so beautiful. Finally he nodded. “Yes. Let’s go,” he said.

Rynne smiled and followed Fenris back towards the door. Perhaps this party wasn’t a total loss after all.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern AU #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

9 notes · View notes

believerindaydreams · 5 years

Text

tilting at windmills

gatehouse vibes.

Syb suggested a scene of Tuco cooking, and I tried; but then it turned into this whole cliffhanger fetch quest...

"Hey, Blondie?"

Tuco says it softly, hardly enough to be heard. He doesn't much feel like disturbing that peaceful indolence.

"He's asleep," Angel confirms. "I think we'll have to leave Yeats there for the day...unless you did want me to keep going, and then naturally I'll wake him up."

"That's all right. Let's be quiet, let him be."

Angel's expression quirks, minutely but with his sure deliberation. It's a nice thing, to always be positive his partner means it for a change-

(wait, they can't both be his partner- can they? It's not quite a thing he can ask Blondie, worn out by the contemplative rituals.)

"You're planning to stay silent in the meantime?"

"Course not. Let's go treasure hunting."

Tuco rises, teasingly pulls at a familiar black glove. Just with the tips of two fingers, but enough that the owner would need to either draw back or follow- and Angel Eyes follows.

"Aren't you full of surprises..."

Also a nice thing, if rather funny that Angel Eyes likes him for the opposite reason: being unpredictable. But then, he's probably the first person in years who can occasionally surprise the man without any fear on either side. Or ever, perhaps?

Tuco shies away from that thought, tucking it away for later; what matters is the here and now. Makes for the staircase, not as yet renovated. It heartens him to realise he still remembers the precise neat sequence to avoid squeaks, worked out for no better reason than the fun of the thing. Angel's steps behind him are precise, equally soundless; and Tuco laughs a little after shutting the trapdoor.

"Care to share the joke?"

"Oh, I don't know- something playful the way you did that, I guess- never mind. The old furniture and things, that's all up here now, yes?"

"Anything that looked usable, yes. I thought Father Paul might want some of it back. You look dismayed."

"Father Paul. Well," Tuco says, shrugging. "He says it's no worse than being so lazy, I'd rather use a nickname than my own- but I hope they didn't throw out what I'm looking for. All those months it would have been here, and I never thought to check for it."

"What's it?"

"Something secret." He clambers over boxes, sneezing at dust; Angel offers him a helping boost at one point, same way Blondie would, and Tuco rolls his eyes but takes it.

"Be careful there. I've held on to those black leather editions for all of twenty years, now."

"A gift from...her?" He can't forget his lover's mentor, so might as well forgive. "That sounds kind."

"My taste for Latin puzzled her, admittedly- but pleased her for all that. That I could occasionally surprise her."

"Mmm-hmm...this is what I want." A cobwebby box, unmarked but with a rough black handle sticking out the flap. Tuco sits down, starts to empty it methodically.

"You left something here?"

"Not exactly. It's not stealing if I never took it away, is it? Just borrowed it sometimes. This gatehouse used to be off-limits back when this was a school, I never heard why. Probably to save trouble looking after us. Now that didn't work at all, I spent most of a long summer here. Mint tea, comic books, this," Tuco says, lifting out a long deep casserole dish with considerable satisfaction. He'd been prepared to keep up chatting quite a while, to get that timing right.

"Rather a baroque lid," Angel Eyes observes, hefting the carved glass. "A chicken and egg motif, hmm...this would do very well to smash a man's skull in."

Tuco glares at him. Doesn't get an apology, but Angel lets his glove slip, while handing the lid back. Coming from him that's pretty close.

"First time I had to fend for myself, cooking meals on the sly- let me tell you, that was hard work! Wood for the fireplace, scouring the dishes tidy every time in case someone else ever used this place, though I don't think they ever did. And finding something to put in the pan, that always was a trouble."

"I assume they weren't actually starving you."

Bless Angel, his lover doesn't half look troubled. "Nooo, not as such. Getting sent to bed without supper a couple of times for sneaking to town, that's not the same thing- but it made me nervous. Back home I knew how to look after myself if I ever had to, then suddenly I didn't...Blondie was a big help there. Get him started and he'd blather all day about working his aunt's chicken farm, so I knew just how to make it look like a fox when I swiped a hen from the priory flock."

"Can't picture you killing chickens, somehow."

"...I didn't," Tuco admits. "I used to get Wallace to help me out. His parents were butchers. Very proud of their son for learning something better than a trade. But they'd taught him how to do it, so I'd take the risk and steal one, he'd clean it and give me half- oooh, that's how he was cooking them! That soft-hearted brother of mine let him use the kitchen, that's what!"

Angel removes his sweater, lays it on the dusty floor before he sits on it. "You know, you've mentioned this a few times. Wouldn't Paul have been rather young to be placed in charge like that?"

"Oh, nobody cared too much by then," Tuco says. Casually nestles down besides, his head on his lover's knee. "They were phasing out the school, wasn't another student after me. But Pablo loved this place so, granite and jam and all. We had a few strange years swapping postcards. Me and Blondie keeping up our hustle while Pablo and Wallace did theirs, I used to joke they ought to have more luck because God was on their side. We'd send each other money sometime, if we could spare it...that was the first time Blondie slept with a girl, getting money for the church. I ribbed him about it some- so what, you won't spread your legs for me but you will for my brother? I had to sleep alone for a while after I said that, I can tell you."

"Mmm-hmm, I can imagine." Knowing Angel, no doubt he's listening intently. For all that his eyes are shut, and his hands stroking in soft circles; Tuco shivers briefly at the tickle on his spine. "That surprises me. I'd assumed his activities in that regard were exercised on your behalf."

"Hey." Sharper than he'd meant to say, maybe, but that'd hurt. "I never asked him to do it, not once. Not ever. If Blondie said anything else, he's lying, that's what."

"You've got ways of wheedling a man that don't involve asking right out, don't deny that," Angel says. Reasonably enough; but Tuco pulls away regardless, sits up with as much dignity as can be mustered with a casserole dish in his lap.

"Yeah, okay, so I do. Maybe I didn't press too hard about where the money came from, when he came back with groceries and a fat wallet. But let me tell you, by the time things were that bad Blondie was just as tired of being hot and broke and hungry as I was. He wants to blame it on me, ok, but that's just a way of making himself feel better about it- you know how he needs, that way."

"Ever think about doing it for him?"

A question, not a threat, but just asking reminds Tuco of the hacienda again. All that time spent protecting himself against a day Angel might tell him to go, while keeping Blondie; his vision blurs and he's not even sure why.

"Course not. Who'd pay to sleep with me?"

"I might have," Angel offers. Too much joviality about it. Like his lover's stolen his own tricks, covering for sadness with a joke.

"As if! An assassin would know better."

"Ah. But evidently, I didn't."

It's the sort of moment when there's either a quarrel or kisses in the offing, Tuco figures.

Easier to go for the latter.

********

"Tuco!"

The naming awakes him with a jolt; Tuco shudders up, throwing a weight off him like a comforter. Moving so quick, he's at the staircase before realising that was Angel Eyes.

"Sorry!" he yells back, but keeps running. Might as well now it's done, and besides- "Blondie, are you okay?"

His partner meets him on the bottom step, grabbing him close. "Fine. Just fine, Tuco."

"That's good." He can't help it, contrasting Blondie's rough embrace with Angel's sleekness. That cassock's more threadbare than it needs to be. "What scared you?"

If the laugh's a bit forced, at least it's a laugh. "I woke up, found you two had vanished. I thought something might have happened."

"I thought it must have been something silly like that," Angel says, sauntering down the stairs. Sweater under one arm, casserole dish under the other. "If there'd been a real crisis, you would have called for me."

"Old habits," Blondie says, letting go and stepping back.

Tuco harrumphs at him, brushing dust off his pants. "Didn't think we'd run off without you, did you?"

"You might have done. We're both slaves to wanderlust."

"Eh, you always wanted to go. I wanted to go someplace, this one suits me pretty well." He takes the casserole dish from Angel's hands, carries it over to the sink and starts to wash it clean. "Lentils, rosemary, pepper. Say, do we have any chicken?"

"Not at the moment."

"...oh. Well, I guess I don't need to cook that tonight," Tuco says, a little guiltily. Belated guilt, at that; he doesn't need to look up from the sink to sense his partner's studied frown.

"No problem," Angel offers. "A trip into town, that's easy enough. Blondie can drive."

"I'm staying out of this. Friday, Tuco, or did you lose track?"

"No, I just decided it'd be better fun sinning."

Tuco's expecting the door to slam violently, and tightens his grip on the ornate glass cover in preparation; but out of the corner of his eye he can see Angel holding Blondie's arm, stopping him going. Low whispers shared between the two of them.

That bothers him, more than he'd have counted on. "Unless it's a birthday present for me, maybe I'd like to listen in."

"If he'd wanted you to hear that, he'd have said it," Blondie says, tight and irritated. "God above, Angel, don't tempt him. It's a cruel enough season without you adding to his troubles."

"I'm offering a choice, that's all." Angel's nearly languid. "For a notion Tuco suggested in the first place. How much meaning can there be to your lauded self-denial, if there's no alternative? Surely the greater the possibilities, the greater spiritual reward to be reaped from turning them all down."

"Ooh," Tuco says, putting down the steaming dishes. "Did you steal that argument from my brother?"

"No, that's just common sense. Common sense- I should say, and a certain amount of research for the part. If Father Paul does ever want a devil, to scare love of god back into his priests..."

"Don't even joke about that, Angel Eyes," Blondie says curtly.

"It's a poor faith that can't withstand a little frippery, I should think. Or is yours that fragile? Unable to withstand even the slightest puncture?"

Tuco suspects Blondie might have done something regrettable then, if he wasn't by. If he wasn't touching his partner's hand, fingertips brushing against delicate bone: a throwback to the old days, when small movements and single syllables stood in for whole conversations. Hard to quell a sudden rapacious craving; this understanding's so associated with a tang of danger, and he's missed that rather.

For that matter, who knows what Angel might have done if not distracted. Blatant teasing, sure, but in a good cause...

"Fine," Blondie says, with unexpected grace. "You've hustled me into it. Nicely done, you two amanates-"

"Shotgun!"

"...what kind?" Angel inquires. "I only have two, come to think of it. They're not the most practical weapon for my purposes."

"Blondie, you're pretty clever aren't you?"

"I guess so," his partner says, fluffing his hair in a familiar absurd gesture of uncertainty. "Yes."

"Good. You explain."

(Blondie really has been thinking too much like a monk, to have fallen for that gag...)

*********

Sometime or other, Tuco's sure, he's heard a recommendation that shopping when hungry's a bad idea; but it's never done him much good. Even with a full pantry at the gatehouse and the odd, sure confidence that he could buy anything he likes without worrying, he’s still managing to work up an appetite just walking down the aisles.

"I suppose I could buy every one of these."

"You could," Blondie's a little flushed still, from charging off to find the orange stand, just to tell him where it is. Unnecessary, but it makes his partner happy so he's never pointed that out. "No doubt he'd enjoy the chance to spoil you. He's not had much opportunity for grand theatrical gestures outside of the profession."

“It'd be fun to do, sometime...but not these,” Tuco says, dropping a gently leaking fruit. “More wet than Angel, that’s saying something.”

“I heard that,” Angel says, coming up with the cart. Tuco nods at him, risks a quick feel along his lover's bottom to show he hadn't meant it.

"They're not that bad," Blondie says, elegantly splitting open an orange's rind with the edge of a fingernail. "We've both eaten worse."

Tuco looks at his own hands, filthy with overripe juice; and he'd take a moment to feel self-conscious only Angel's busy reciprocating. Very hard to concentrate.

"I know that, but you know what? I can have higher standards now."

Blondie turns away, full of dismay; and the unreasoned awareness of his partner's disappointment reaches up to choke him. The same feeling he used to get on the road sometimes when there was too much closeness between them, exasperated knowledge of the other's slightest irritation. Usually just before one of them ran out on the other.

It shouldn't be like this, anymore. There's nothing for them to fret over now.

"There's a better supermarket across town, it's just that this one was closer," Angel says. "We could go there instead if you like."

"No, that's fine. Let's just get the chicken and a couple of things and go, okay?"

"I always had trouble keeping his 'a couple of things' under half a dozen."

That's just evening the score, for his unexpected orange scorn; so Tuco bites down a comeback. "He's right. Maybe I'll treat myself, all of seven things instead of six."

"You don't need to abstain any more," Angel says. Even leaves off feeling him up, for the purpose of making a promise with simple words but the solemnity of a vow. Very like Blondie, sometimes.

"Well, thanks." Makes sure to say it with plenty of irony, before they all three of them die of sentiment. "But now I think about it, we have just about everything I do want back home."

"I'm sure that in this whole store, you could find something else you'd enjoy."

Well. If he's being invited...and Angel's pretty cute when he's like this, that bewildered lover's want for shared softness. No wonder Baker wanted in on that.

His momentary concern for Blondie slips away, at that thought. There's a warmth he always gets, remembering how he outwitted an assassin in a game so high-stakes; unkind as it is, it's always very pleasurable...

*********

"Quod me nutrit me destruit. What nourishes me, destroys me."

"Wow," Tuco says; and lets every drop of his admiration show. "Blondie, I don't know where you got him, but he's a keeper. Latin proverbs about junk food, that's amazing."

Angel Eyes drops the barbecued potato chips into the cart, with his customary reserve. "It's a hustle of its own kind, Tuco. Memorize enough vague, pretentious phrases, and hey presto, you'll be prepared for any occasion."

"Still. It's pretty cool."

"I preferred it when you were using Latin for important things," Blondie says. He's pushing the cart now, leaning against it with exquisite poise; Tuco looks from light hair to dark, and can't help marveling at his luck.

"Sorry to have to inform you about your own partner," Angel says, "but junk food is rather important to Tuco, or hadn't you noticed?"

"I remember the other thing. We should get some more hair dye, shouldn't we?"

"Don't think I really need that stuff any more," Blondie says calmly, pushing the cart on. "It's not natural, is it?"

"Neither are potato chips- oh, I shouldn't have said that. Next you'll ask me what the point of the potato chips are..."

"To eat, I'd assume," Angel pipes in. A mother walking down the aisle with her toddler with pauses in confusion, than hurries on faster. Tuco rolls his eyes, at the sight of his lover’s smirk.

"I hope you're not expecting me to call you anything else, Blondie. Bad enough that Pablo wants me to call him something else, when he's in company- it'll be Angel Eyes telling me his real name next."

"I do have one."

"I thought you had to- mind, you're not the first Angel I've met, lots of those with Spanish surnames. I'd sort of hoped a little you might be, when Blondie said your name..."

"He talked about me, before?"

"Five minutes before the poker game started," Blondie says. "Hell of a night that was. I didn't know if you'd want me back."

"I'd have tried harder to charm him, if you'd said," Tuco says. "I was so busy worrying about Carson that night, I barely looked at Angel all game. Sorry."

"No offense. I think Blondie had the right of it, that time...I doubt I'd have enjoyed it if you'd been trying to put on an effect for my sake. "

"Believe me, it would have been true. I can make myself believe just about anything, for a hustle- I mean, I did! Telling myself, I must have been drunk when you said you were- what you were, and knowing all the time you'd meant it. Hey. I don't get this."

"It's a sign," Blondie says patiently. "It says their freezer's broken and they're sorry for the inconvenience."

"Blondie, I can read." There's beef on one side, pork on the other, glistening slabs of bacon that'd delight him any other time, but right now he's got his heart set on chicken. "This isn't fair."

"This isn't a very good supermarket," Angel says. "Off to the other one, then?"

"No, don't think so. We buy the chips, and then-"

"We go home?" Blondie interrupts, looking hopeful.

"I've got something more fun in mind. Remember when we went lifting chickens?"

"Oh no. No. Tuco, I- look at me," Blondie says, arms crossed. "You want to do that now? When we've got everything to lose, and no reason to do it?"

"Sure I do."

"Think of Angel. He can't afford to be caught up by law enforcement, you know that just as well as I do-"

"If I got caught out and arrested on a simple operation like this," Angel says, his eyes glinting, "I'd deserve my fate. And maybe you'd consider that just retribution, if I went as suddenly as I came. Left you two alone with your god again."

Tuco feels a cold shiver going over him, that's got everything to do with the cold air from the freezers and everything also to do with the way Angel can't seem to resist a gamble like this, laying everything on the line for the sake of nothing. It's crazy. His lover should know better. And then a shiver also, for the way his sympathy's not with Blondie anymore; that's a thing that's never happened before.

"It'd be just," Blondie says; and there's all the martyr's sweetness in his voice- okay, so he's lost it too. One of the three of them really needs to talk the others down, and it ought to be him.

Damn it though, he really wants chicken; and the fresh stuff now he's thinking about it, not frozen shrink-wrapped legs. That just won't be the same.

"Okay. Then let's go..."

#70s au #the good the bad and the ugly #the trio

5 notes · View notes