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shelby-love · 4 years

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JAY HALSTEAD

Stalked.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: angsty

Authors note: Y/S1/N (your older sisters name), Y/S2/N (your younger sisters name)

"Your labs came back negative... I'll make sure to get you discharged immediately." You stand next to your patients bed, scrolling through his charts and scanning the monitor.

The man that lied on his bed looked lost and confused. He came in today saying that he was experiencing sharp pain in his stomach. He kept telling you he was in pain although there weren't any possible medical explanations for what he was feeling.

You consulted with Dr. Charles and you decided to discharge him.

"No...no, no, no, no. You have to do them again! Please..." His body jumped and his rough hand found your wrist. Your eyes opened wide as you snatched your hand away immediately. "I...I don't feel so good."

You watched him carefully. This wasn't the first time he forcefully grabbed you.

You almost reported him several different times but you decided against it because now you were getting rid of him. That man was sick in his head.

"Doris make sure to change the dressing on his shoulder then send him off after that." You hand the tablet to the nurse who does as you say and then you walk out.

"Tough one huh?" Dr. Charles leaned against the desk as you typed your password into the computer to access your doctors ID.

"Is it wierd if I say that I was afraid to treat that man?" A big tortured sigh escapes your mouth. "I didn't let that affect my professional judgement but still...it was horrible."

"I believe ya." He replied and stole a glance at the trauma room your freak patient was in. "I mean... He comes in with stomach pain, then he requests to be under your care specifically and after all of that...when you want to discharge him the first time suddenly there's blood pouring out of his shoulder by accident." You nod your head in agreement. "I can confirm something. You...you're not crazy. He's the one who's crazy."

His words left an uneasy feeling settle over you.

***

"Hey girls," You sing into your phone. It's 8 P.M. and your shift just ended. "What do you two want to eat? I can stop by Manny's and get us some food."

Your two sisters agrue about what to eat and whilst they're doing that you get into your car and buckle up. You then fix your rear-view mirror and notice something really odd. There's a blue sports car parked not to far away from your car. The car looks really exotic. So exotic it just doesn't blend with the other cars around yours.

"What the..." You watch closely. A man in a black hoodie is sitting in the car. The whole car is lit up like a soccer field at night and that freaks you out. This parking lot is for Chicago Med workers only. "Who's car is that?"

"What did you say Y/N??" Your sisters screech pulled you back into reality.

"Nothing." You reply quickly and take the phone in your hand. "I just though I saw something."

"Girl you spend way to much time with Jay and now you're starting to sound just like him." Your two manic sisters giggle. "Where is Jay anyway? He hasn't stopped by much lately."

You wonder off to sad places after what she said. "He's been busy." He hasn't been home much at all. Usually he always picks you up from work and drops you off at work too.

After they start to gush over you two you decide to hang up and go to Manny's whether they want to eat there or not.

***

"I'm home!" You voice as soon as you enter the house. You recognize your younger sisters footsteps as she marches down the stairs like a champion.

She snatches the food out of your arms and runs towards the dining room. "You're welcome by the way!"

You kick off your shoes and hang the car keys onto the key holder. When you make your way in the dining room you notice your other sister. She's stiff like a statue with eyes glued to the window. You poke her head, "What's up with you?"

"She's been looking out of the window like a hwak for God knows how long," Y/S2/N says while munching her sandwich.

"Because I've never seen that car before," She defends herself. You stand behind her and look out of the window yourself.

The blue sports car.

"Like that car is too exotic to be owned by someone from this neighbourhood." Your sister continues to blabber. "I just wanna see who the person is."

"Did you see someone come out?" You ask and sit down, slowly you start sinking in your chair.

"No I didn't, oh my God people that's why I'm looking!" She swings her arms in the air.

"Stalking." Y/S2/N coughs into her shoulder.

They giggle for a little bit but you're confused and scared. Jay always told you to be careful when you see the same car wherever you are. You could he paranoid but he always said that its better to be save than sorry.

You shake your head and dismiss the red flags.

"Pass me the food would you?"

***

You stand in front of the window. You hear your siblings making popcorn for your movie marathon in the kitchen.

You still feel uneasy.

Y/S1/N dropped the subject of the blue car but still looks out of the window herself a few times but you took her spot as a permanent watchman.

Your heartbeat spikes up drastically when you see the lights in the car turn on and reveal a masked man. You're reminded of the parking lot and your blood runs cold.

The car moves until its directly across the road.

You check if your windows are all locked.

***

"Did you close the window Y/S2/N?" Your sister asks casually. The three of you are sat and cuddled on your giant sofa.

"It's hot in Chicago for the first time ever, let the breeze in." She replied and stuffed her mouth with popcorn once again.

"More like let the burglars in," You couldn't laugh with them at the jokes they kept throwing. The odd feeling in the pit of your stomach just wouldn't go away.

"I'm cold." You announce and stand up. They don't bother to stop you from going upstairs so you slowly make your way up the stairs.

You walk slowly, almost tip toeing, with your breathing leveled and controlled and nervous sweat breaking out everywhere. Your instinct told you to run, call Jay, ask him to come, but you decided you were paranoid and walked in regardless. No sooner had you hit the light switch did a man grab you and you went tumbling down the flight of stairs.

There was a man standing in front of you. You couldn't make out his face, as he was completely unknown to you.

Unknown until he took the hood of his head. You screamed and tried to get away but he grabbed your ankle and yanked you towards him. By the time he fought you into his arms your two sisters stood in front of you with a phone and a number typed into it. Jay's number.

Your pajama top was ripped but it still somehow hung onto your torso like a loyal soldier.

"Drop the phone or she dies!" He yelled and pressed a knife to your throat. Your sisters shook with fear but after seeing you nod with tears in your eyes they did as they were told.

"Gavin please let me go," You begged but he didn't have any of it.

"No! Do not try to get into my pants now doc. You had your shot!" He yelled into your ear and pressed your back into his harder.

"Gavin please... We can talk about it..I-I can look at your charts again. Help you feel better." You wince as you feel the sharpness of the blade against your neck.

"I wanted to do so much to you..." He whispered, "After you helped me feel better I was going to please you to return the favor... But you did nothing!" He smashed your body against the pastel colored wall but didn't let you sink to the ground. "Nothing!!"

And that's when he did it. When he pressed the knife into you three times. Only the third time he did it and your sisters jumped on him did he notice what was going on. He dropped the knife to the ground and ran.

"Y/S2/N CALL JAY NOW!" The oldest sister after you screamed. She dropped to the ground with you and took her shirt off. She pressed it against your bleeding belly in hopes of calming down the stream of blood that was coming out of three different holes.

You felt dizzy. Your stomach burned and you slowly felt numb all over but you were still able to hear yours sisters sad cries. "C'mon Jay hurry up... Y/N please stay awake."

You lost count of time. You didn't know if you were just stabbed or if you were awake for hours with a bleeding belly.

Commotion builds up in the small neighbourhood. You make out the sounds. Police.

"Chicago PD where is he?" Voight asked your younger sister who managed to choke out that he ran away.

"Y/N? Y/N!!" Now you really felt numb to voices. But fortunately, the last thing you're ever going to be numb for is Jay Halstead. "Jesus Christ Y/N baby are you okay? Y/S1/N? It's okay don't worry I got you now..I got you."

Then you blacked out.

***

"Hey... Go easy." Jay had his strong arm wrapped behind your back as he fixed your pillow so you can lean against it and sit up.

Your whole stomach was bandaged, you had bruises all over your body and somehow you still managed to break a finger.

"How are you feeling?" Jay grabbed your healthy hand in his own two and kissed it countless times.

"Like I just came back from yoga class," Your soary laugh lit up the room.

"I'm happy your humor didn't go away." You can see the gloss in his eyes. He really really was afraid that he lost you.

"Jay..." You were cut of with an emotional kiss. Jay leaned towards you so quickly you didn't have time to process it. You cup his small subtle beard covered chin and return the kiss with just as much emotion.

You tried to push away the bad thoughts and memories from what happened. You wanted to forget it all and the first step forgetting is being able to laugh and joke about it.

And that's what you are going to do.

With Jay.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago med #chicago #chicago pd #chicago med imagine #chicago pd imagine

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dailytomlinson · 4 years

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At the stroke of midnight on January 31st, 2020, the music industry was single-handedly saved by just a young lad from Doncaster. We can all agree, in confidence, that the majority of artists won’t top the charts with their first LP, especially with little to no promo. “Walls” however, debuted at #1 on the worldwide iTunes charts, a feat not many will come by. Judging by its success, we can rightfully assume this album could be rather magical. Just over a month into the decade, I can happily testify that this may be one of the greatest pieces of work we’ll see over the span of the next 10 years. The only record I may allow to top it, will be Tomlinson’s sophomore album, which is fair to speculate will have a little less fan service and show a little more of the grunge britpop rockstar that Louis is dying to showcase.

Oh, this guy’s from One Direction, too. It’s a fact that doesn’t need to be honed in on, but in case you aren’t familiar with his older work, the UK-based band is where he found his origin story. Though hopefully after giving these tracks a listen, we’ll all be able to start celebrating him as the solo artist he was destined to become.

Kill My Mind

You hate me and I want more.

Perhaps I wasn’t alive during majority of the Britpop Movement of the 90s, but I can wholeheartedly say that if you played this opening track for anyone familiar with the genre, they would tell you it would feel right at home as a feature on one of Oasis’ final LPs or as a single brought to us by Blur. However, that is not to say it lacks originality. In fact, far from it. His thick Yorkshire accent demands your attention right off the bat. This song is confident, it’s loud, it’s sexy, it’s everything his loyal fanbase has been patiently waiting to see arise from the musician. It’s a different Tomlinson than the general public may be accustomed to, but it’s a perfect example of an artist finding their authentic self. The electric opener, Kill My Mind gives us a little tease as to what’s to come.

Don’t Let It Break Your Heart

What hurts you is gonna pass and you’ll have learned from it when it comes back.

After careful consideration, this may be the album’s weakest link. It draws on a bit of the pop-influence his previous audiences may be more familiar with. Previously, Louis released a single-edit and a piano version. The one featured on the album, is by far the most well mixed. It’s filled with beautiful harmonies and the layered vocals have a lot of potential. The message of this song is uplifting, about overcoming hardships with grace and allowing yourself to grow from them — A theme not uncommon in Louis’ writing or general life philosophy. Always the lyricist, coming from him, this message works and it works beautifully into the melodies of the song. My main issue comes down to production. The background vocals are choppy and make the general feeling of the song a little cheesy. Ultimately, it all just sounds forced. I can say however, experiencing this song live is a different story. Some songs are meant to be played live, and this just happens to be one of them.

Two of Us

We’ll end just like we started, just you and me, and no one else.

The lead single was one Louis himself proclaimed needed to be written, or else his other art would suffer from being insincere. “I just feel like musically, I almost needed to get this song off my chest,” He recently told Rolling Stone, “People say writing is a part of therapy and in a way, I feel like I’d been avoiding writing this song because I knew I only had one chance to get it right.” For those who may be unaware, at the start of his solo career, Louis tragically lost his mother, the person he was closest with, to leukemia. Out of respect to him, I won’t dwell on this, and it does feel fairly inconsiderate to put the piece under review, per say. I will, however, assert that it is a stunningly orchestrated song. You can feel the authenticity and honesty radiate from the words he’s singing, especially in the big build up of the chorus in comparison to the heart wrenching and softly sung outro. It’s rare we find artists who are proud to wear their hearts on their sleeves and speak with true openness. Each song is an example of this, but Two of Us broadcasts this vulnerability loudly, as he gives us an anthem of accepting that you’re grieving and reminding listeners to always hold onto hope.

We Made It

Nothing in the world that I would change it for, singing something pop-y on the same four chords.

Yes, she’s corny, yes her lyrics might not be up to standard with the rest of his work, and yes, she is my favorite song on the album. We Made It, is filled to the rim with nostalgia and embracing that although the tunnel was dark, there was in the end, a light. For anyone who has grown up with Louis and supported him through all the twists and turns of his decade long career, this song could be a celebration of us and our relationship with our favorite musician. There were always struggles along the way, but we, as fans, never turned our back on him. We were there for him when he needed us to lean on. The sentiment remains when reversed. Ultimately, whatever we needed, he was able to provide. It’s easy to see how much of a team Louis and his followers are, and this song is honoring that. If you’re less familiar with the singer himself, then this track is just a fun little guitar-driven song that reminisces those nights of getting smashed and blazed out of your mind with your young love, and what’s wrong with that?

Too Young

Face to face at the kitchen table, this is everything I’ve waited for.

Every album needs a song to cry to, and for Walls, this is the one. There aren’t too many complexities here, as Louis has said he generally likes to stray away from metaphors when he can. The calm strumming of the acoustic guitar, lends itself beautifully to the track, and never overpowers Louis’ voice. Vocally, this a huge example of a myriad of Louis’ strengths. It contrasts some of the heavily belted pieces we hear later on in the album, and focuses on the softness he’s able to convey in his killer range of a chest voice. His raspy tone demonstrates a certain intimacy. When the song is listened to through headphones with your eyes closed, it almost feels as if Louis is right there on your bedside, gently playing a personal piece he had just written and trusts you enough to perform it for you first. There’s a certain amount of emotional intelligence demonstrated in this song, as he never pulls the victim card, but instead takes the mature approach of admitting to where he’s gone wrong. This notion is used a lot in his writing, and is a sure telling of his character. This catchy little ballad wouldn’t feel out of place on albums of most genres, musically lacking some originality, which is made up for with the candor and polish in his vocals.

Walls

Why is it that “thank-you” is so often bittersweet?

Objectively speaking, this is the most well crafted track on the album. Perhaps even more Oasis-y than some Oasis hits, it even earned itself a writing credit from Noel Gallagher himself. By now, we are more than well accustomed to embracing Louis’ themes of overcoming barriers (or walls). It’s something he writes about often, and why shouldn’t he? He knows what it’s like to stand above what’s been dragging you down more than anyone. The most titular lyric opens and closes the tune, proclaiming, “Nothing wakes you up, like waking up alone.” As soon as you’re hit with this, you know you’re listening to a song which dares the audience to take the musician earnestly. Louis has always been the funny one who has chosen to never take himself too seriously in life. With his music, he had a hard time at the start, choosing to put out records which defined Top 40, but never himself. Walls forces us to accept the artist he’s become. It proves to every listener, that Louis Tomlinson is a musician, a lyricist, a vocalist; a true craftsman. He is a serious artist and this salient track forces us, for once, to accept him as one.

Habit

Took some time cause I ran out of energy, of playing someone I’ve heard I’m supposed to be.

Back in February of 2018, Louis teased this lyric on his twitter, sending fans into a frenzy of when and where this sentiment might come into play. In September of last year, he finally played it for us live. This live version of the song was a complete bore. Again, Louis’ biggest asset in his music may come from his lyrics. He wrote more songs for One Direction than any of the other boys, often partnering with Liam Payne who would work on the melodies, while Louis focused on cutting deep with his words. This is more than evident here, meaning any initial fondness of this song was independently due to the verses he was singing. When the album finally hit stands and we were able to hear the studio version, I have to say, my opinion on this absolute banger changed drastically. It may be a little controversial to say, but this song might have some “Yeehaw” vibes. If you played someone the opening, before his vocals take the forefront, it would’ve been fair to assume it was a Maren Morris hit. Country/Britpop/Indie isn’t exactly something I would ever even consider diving into, but let me tell you, this certified bop has been on repeat. Here’s to hoping him and his band can put together a new live arrangement before the world tour kicks off in March.

Always You

Waiting to wrap your legs around me, and I know you hate to smoke without me.

To be blunt, this song was a fan service. If it wasn’t for Louis’ persistent stans, this track may have been ditched months ago. However, when he gave us a glimpse of the songs upbeat opening lyric three years ago, we latched onto it. For years we bombarded Louis, telling him this song needed to stay on the record, and thank God he listened. He did realize partway through the writing process that this isn’t the sort of music he would like to put out anymore, so it may not resonate with someone looking for the more grungy side of the artist. Always You is almost pure bubblegum and it sounds like it should be radiating loudly off festival speakers. The tune will be a crowd-pleaser, and will surely bring the most hype for live audiences. It’s the sort of song you want to scream out while drunk on a rooftop in the summer atop the ocean in New York City, which is exactly what myself and approximately 6800 more fans will be doing this June.

Fearless

Cash in your weekend treasures, for a suit and tie, a second wife.

God damn is Fearless sexy. The slow and pulsing beat of this song, with the organic guitar, subtle production, and his sultry voice are a recipe for a great and sensual tune. The song was written with the inspiration of feeling youthful, and teaches what to center your sense of self-worth around. There’s a certain level of maturity that comes with a song of these intentions, and in that, Louis is able to showcase his ever growing wisdom. “What I wanted to try and capture with the song is the idea of feeling youthful and how important that is,” He recently said in an interview with Apple Music, “I’m at this age where I’m on the cusp — I’m definitely not a teenager, I’m not a young lad anymore, nor am I old, but I sit in this space where I’m aware of my age now. I hear it as a playground or going back to real youth.”

Perfect Now

Don’t you wanna dance? Just a little dance?

On release day, Louis did a signing, where he bravely asked a few fans what their least favorite track on the album was. Everyone said Perfect Now, earning them a high five from the man himself as well as his genuine agreement. While many look at it as a cheesy romantic love song, masquerading as a rejected early One Direction track, mirroring Little Things or What Makes You Beautiful, I wholeheartedly disagree. It’s easy to chalk it down to being “cheesy” when you approach it as being romantic, but if you look at it as, simply, a love song, that changes the perspective. Louis sings over an appealing and charming little guitar melody, and you can almost hear his smile. It’s easy to picture him singing this to his younger sisters as a piece of brotherly encouragement, or to a good friend who needs cheering up after a hard day. This darling melody invites you to dance around your bedroom feeling loved. Perfect Now proves that not everything has to be deep and serious; allow yourself to be open to simply feeling happy over the little things like a lyric that makes you smile. When in the chorus he prompts, “Keep your head up, love,” listeners can’t help but feel a sense of personal support from the artist, which is exactly what makes this song so special.

Defenseless

We’re sleeping on our problems like we’ll solve them in our dreams.

It’s understandable why Louis likes to stray from metaphors in his writing, because generally speaking, they simply aren’t good. This is proven with lyrics such as, “I’m running to you like a moth into a flame”. As well as this, the rhyming of “defenseless” with “fences” and then “defenseless” again, doesn’t exactly sit well. The song does grow to be much better than anticipated after the first verse. The pre-chorus has a strong beat, which you’ll find yourself accidentally clapping along to in public. The bridge allows Louis to explore his falsetto, which is something we’ve never heard from him before. It’s strong and poignant, and it’s a real shame that his old band never gave him the opportunity to use his voice in all its capabilities. The control Louis has over his vocals throughout this song is astonishing, and almost unheard of in most modern music outside of musical theatre. This track alone, proves that he is one of the most vocally gifted artists not only to come out of One Direction, but to come out of the last decade at all.

Only the Brave

It’s a church of burnt romances and I’m too far gone to pray.

The lyrics to this song are borderline poetry. Each and every word draws you in and leaves you speechless. It’s a short song, ending at one minute and forty-four seconds, and that works well. It leaves us wanting more, even when we’ve reached the very end of the whole experience. The tune feels like a mantra; something to sing to yourself as you prepare for something you’re nervous about or to congratulate yourself on completing a task you never thought you could accomplish. There’s no proper structure and his voice has a retro filter over top, giving the whole thing a bit of a wartime vibe. The most powerful moment is undoubtedly when he sings, “It’s a solo song, and it’s only for the brave,” as a way of patting himself on the back for where he is now in life and in his career. It’s the perfect way to bring home the album. After 12 tracks demonstrating it, it is proven to us that he doesn’t need his ex-bandmates, he doesn’t need a big production, he doesn’t need Simon Cowell, he doesn’t need other songwriters dictating what direction to go, because he is Louis Tomlinson and he is brave.

#walls review #keira millian #050220 #louis tomlinson

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in-dire-need · 4 years

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Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge- My Chemical Romance

The only 2004 album that could even come close to giving American Idiot a run for its money is Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge. My Chemical Romance’s second full-length album shot the band out of its familiar water. Its numerous hits continue to reach billboard charts, such as opening track “Helena” and world-renowned “I’m Not Okay.” According to frontman Gerard Way, Revenge stands as a “pseudo-conceptual horror story”. Every track on the album ties into this twisted and supernatural story of the two lovers featured on the cover, which was created by Gerard Way.

“Helena (So Long and Goodnight)” opens this story of Three Cheers with a heartfelt yet twisted dedication to the Way brothers’ grandmother, Elena Rush, had passed away under circumstanced unknown to the public during the band’s tour of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. Elena had heavily influenced the brothers from a very young age and inspired them to pursue their dreams. When she passed, Gerard Way was sent into a spiral of anger and self-destructive behavior. He wrote the song to be somewhat of a letter to himself, expressing the hatred he felt for himself at the time. Despite the dark theme behind the lyrics, “Helena” continues to be a radio classic on rock stations everywhere.

The story element behind the album begins during the second track, “Give ‘Em Hell, Kid”. A man has been divided from his lover after the devil resurrects him from the dead and, in order to resurrect his wife as well, he must kill one thousand evil souls and present them to the devil. While he ventures out to accomplish this, his wife wonders where he has gone and is clueless of his plans. She is livid at him for wrecking their marriage that began when they were young and dumb. In the next few tracks we listen as the protagonist crashes a wedding in order to kill the guests. He begins to question his sexuality and if his wife is worth one thousand souls. Continuing the double-meaning, the “To The End” is also based on the short story “A Rose For Emily” by William Faulkner. In this story, a rich wife begins suspecting that her husband may be a homosexual, so she poisons him before he cheats on her or leaves her.

“You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us in Prison” features Bert McCracken, frontman of The Used, with whom all of My Chemical Romance was extremely close with at the time of Three Cheers’ release. Gerard was also featured on their 2004 album, In Love and Death, which toured with Three Cheers after its debut. Since then, the bands had a falling-out and didn’t speak for years before heavily hinting that The Used would be opening for My Chemical Romance’s reunion tour that was scheduled for 2020. This information was never officially announced, though, seeing as COVID-19 has ruined every hope and dream that it could lay its greasy paws on. Anger aside, “Prison” continues the protagonist’s journey to kill one thousand evil souls to resurrect his wife as he is arrested in a restaurant gunfight. Once in prison, he begins falling for an inmate of the same sex, which confuses and upsets the protagonist who had assumed he was heterosexual for his entire life. He still dreams of his deceased lover, whom his journey is all for. The other inmates begin to take advantage of him, forcing him to dress in drag and give blowjobs to accommodate to their sexual desires. He begins to lose his sanity and believes that he might as well be executed since he will not be able to fulfill his mission from prison. He decides that when he leaves, he will burn down an entire hotel to quickly raise his body count.

Another track that has gone down in history is number four, “I’m Not Okay (I Promise”. It follows a girl who struggles with dealing with the problems in her life. She vents and complains to her boyfriend, who is dealing with his own problems. He puts them aside to comfort his girlfriend time and time again. She does not take this into account and simply continues to wallow in her own pain, attempting and failing to relate to sad songs with deeper meanings. He has finally had it with her by the end of the song and explodes, telling her that he is not okay and he is done with her melodrama. “The Ghost of You” is another smash hit produced by this album, which continues the story already present. The protagonist expresses the grief he experienced after losing the lover he is trying so hard to save. Later tracks emphasize this as the protagonist begins to doubt his ability to bring his lover back.

Standing as a message of inspiration and a sign not to give up, “Thank You For The Venom” has become very popular within its target audience. Critics began to blame My Chemical Romance for making music purely to become famous, to which the band responded saying that the fans are a huge impact on their music. They never wanted to be on the front covers of magazines and at the head of the rock scene, but at a certain point they could no longer fight the inevitable. The song narrates what is possibly a nun attempting to convert a horrible sinner, then being murdered by the man. The sinner could be the protagonist continuing his killing spree, knowing that no amount of preaching could save him. In the following tracks, he questions again if his lover is really worth kill one thousand evil souls. After a woman representing his lost love holds him at gunpoint and tells him to stop his killing spree, he considers shooting himself and therefore dying for her instead of killing. He trudges on still and vows revenge on this woman as his story nears its end. After killing nine-hundred ninety-nine evil souls, he realizes that the last one he must take is his own. He begins hallucinating that his wife is there with him and even holds conversations with her before remembering that she is not there. It is heavily suggested that his lover committed suicide after getting drunk, though the means are unknown. The protagonist finally comes to terms with the fact that he is destined to die and that he would never have been able to resurrect his wife.

In the final track, “I Never Told You What I Did For a Living”, the man completes his transaction with the devil. He accepts his fall from grace, but knows that once he is with his love again it will all have been worth it. Once he kills the last soul, himself, it is revealed that the devil tricked him. As a result of his astounding body count, he has been damned to hell instead of being reunited with his lover. His final realization is that it was all for nothing and that he has simply become a monster.

Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge’s final lines are a callback to the group’s first album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, or Bullets for short. Dozens of lines throughout the album reference Bullets, and the lovers featured are even referred to as two “Demolition Lovers”. Initially, fans and critics believed that the two albums were linked as one continuing story, but that theory has been denied. Past its horrific tale, many songs actually send a buried positive message- keep going. Specifically “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” and “Thank You For The Venom” have worked to debunk the band’s stereotype of being a suicide cult. Ironically, these songs have also become symbols of this said suicide cult, given the references to death and self-destruction, which leads many younger listeners to fall prey to this cult mentality that the media has created. That very concept was something that My Chemical Romance vehemently spoke out against, seeing as the very reason they began making music was to help people. Even despite being twisted and forgotten by the media, that is still exactly what they did. Although fame wasn’t what they wanted, in the end they achieved exactly what they wanted: to help people. Their worldwide fame simply allowed them to reach farther and wider than ever imagined.

As previously stated, all tracks on the album not only tie into the crazy narration of two dead lovers, but into the real lives of the bandmates, specifically Gerard and Mikey way. For example, “The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You” personifies Gerard’s struggle with alcoholism and cocaine addiction in the form of a woman. He says that he could stay with her for hours even though she will eventually kill him. He was able to sober up and toured for Three Cheers during his first full year sober, which he described as extremely difficult. “The Ghost Of You” helps paint the picture of how the brothers were grieving after the loss of their grandmother, Elena.

Elena was one of the most powerful influencers behind the creation of My Chemical Romance and continued to inspire them throughout their entire career. Thanks to her, the band went on to inspire millions of young adults worldwide. Had she not supported her grandchildren like she did, so many more influencers would have never developed the confidence to take their first steps into the sunlight. These influencers include Palaye Royale, Twenty One Pilots, Post Malone, and Yungblud. Who knows how many more celebrities truly are that wouldn’t be where they are without the influential messages of My Chemical Romance? Who knows who the next possible star will be? I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out. Go enjoy yourselves, internet.

“And we'll love again, we'll laugh again We'll cry again, and we'll dance again And it's better off this way, so much better off this way I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed!”

#three cheers for sweet revenge #my chemical romance #music

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theirondragonrants · 4 years

Note

from the way your posts read, you have to be one of those antifa nuts that get all their news from this website and just want to shout at everyone who disagrees with them. Get educated about the issues before you come here screaming and cursing, maybe you will come off less uneducated \[°. °]/

I thought about how to answer this for a long minute. So I've decided that this is a GREAT learning moment for you and other people who think saying this stuff is okay.

1. I feel like my Bachelors in Poli Sci and History would disagree with you? I spent 4 years learning what politics is and how it works, and I've done enough on hands political work to know what I'm talking about. Take your assumptions about my or anyone's level of education somewhere else.

2. People keep using these words, I don't think they mean what you think they mean. Antifa quite literally means antifacist. It's not a movement, or an organization, it's literally someone who disagrees with fascism, fascists being given a platform to hurt anyone, and everything fascism stands for. Sure I'm anti fascists, literally everyone should be? Are you not? Do you.... Like when people get their rights taken away? Is it funny to you that this right wing need for homogeneity is costing lives and will literally smash everyone that doesn't fit?

3. Yes, I'm shouting. And I'm angry. I'm a literal Hispanic woman living in the United States??? Nevermind the fact that I'm gay???? Luckily I'm in a very liberal city with a huge Hispanic population so it hasn't been so bad. But I've had to deal with 4 years of escalating micro aggressions, of entitled racists realizing that it's okay to voice their shitty thoughts at people like me, at my family, and that ain't right. It'll literally break you, to deal with what I deal with, what we deal with. Luckily I pass for white often enough that racial abuse isn't something I worry about often, but I have enough friends and family that are NOT that lucky, you walk a day in my shoes and tell me you wouldn't SCREAM when people think it's okay to accept that we might get 4 more years of a hostile government??? Especially since it's not affecting all of you who think it's okay to lose, it won't affect you directly, what do you care.

4. Regardless of my career path I HAVE to be educated about the issues. I have family who don't have the time to understand the nuisances of everything going on because they have to work long shifts, two or three jobs, and don't have the luxury of sitting here, sending anonymous messages to people, trying to put down someone who's trying in their own way to educate others. I HAVE to be educated because as a woman I'm more likely to be underestimated and told to stay in my lane if I don't know every fact there is to know. I HAVE to be educated because people look at me as a representative of every minority I represent, whether I like it or not.

5. If your way of arguing with me is because I say fuck and you take it personally when I call people dense motherfuckers, well....... Not only do you know you don't really have any good arguments... The boot really does fit and you really are here trying to rock it, huh?

And finally. 2 things. One. Is it crack you're smoking?. And 2. The CAUCASITY in this ask is OFF THE CHARTS. Take your white holier than thou tears somewhere else. Go get woke. If you're willing to listen my ask box and my inbox are always open, I'm always happy to help someone get resources to get informed. Otherwise, well... I think all is said and done here.

#Looong ask #Real long answer #But this really pissed me off #So here we are #Ask #anonymous #T: asks

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dragon Dancer IV: Cornered

I sighed and tossed my cards on the table. “I fold.”

“This is your third time losing, Fengchu...” Zihang looked at me pityingly.

“I said I don’t know how to play poker! On top of the fact that all my hands are no good.” I grumbled.

“You shouldn’t call her Fengchu. It’s not a girl’s name.” Mingfei gathered everyone’s cards and shuffled the deck.

“It means ‘Young Phoenix’. The military adviser Pang Tong was named it after his uncle realized he showed great promise.” Zihang explained.

“That’s like naming her Alexander Hamilton!” Mingfei tossed out cards to Nono, then to me.

“Hamilton is awesome!” I said.

“It’s not a girl’s name!”

From a mobile phone on the table, Fingel’s voice shouted out. “Deal me in!”

“You don’t have any hands. Be quiet before I lower your volume.” Mingfei growled, tossing more cards to Zihang.

After EVA’s reprogramming, an alternative mini-EVA activated on Mingfei’s mobile phone, only instead of EVA’s voice, Fingel was installed. Whoever had made the program meant to protect Mingfei and I had considered the possibility that her primary directive might be altered and had this AI back up to continue to support us, just in case.

From the bed, Ru’Yi lifted her head up and squealed.

“Yes, baby?” I asked, turning to her.

The door suddenly opened and in walked Crow. When he saw us all playing cards, he frowned. “Am I in the wrong room?” He tossed the food he had brought on the sofa. “I snuck into a charming little hotel, came into a room of two men and two women and opened the door to find them playing poker? Are you not aware that you’re wanted criminals?”

Crow marched directly over and scooped an eager Ru’Yi off the bed and gave her a raspberry into her cheeks.

“What are we supposed to do? Sit here and stare at each other?” Nono shrugged.

We had stayed in this love hotel for three days. Outside our windows, it was always raining. After doing nothing for a long time, we felt like we were starting to grow roots. Nono asked Mingfei to bring back some playing cards when he went out shopping.

“You could be entertaining the princess and not leaving her out here on her lonesome!” Crow said reproachfully, pulling a toy Hello Kitty from his pocket and gifting to her.

She threw it and it bounced off the TV.

“And they left me out too!” The Fingel Phone lamented.

Mingfei snarled. “Keep talking and I’ll give you to the baby!”

“Anything but that! I’m serving such cruel masters...” Fingel’s voice whimpered.

Crow’s smile didn’t fit his next words. “You have to leave Tokyo as soon as possible.”

-------------------------------------------------------

He tossed a folder on the bed and Nono turned to get it.

Nono opened it. She pressed her lips together.

“Susie, code named Thunder, is one of the strongest members of the new generation of Executioners in the Academy. Her partner is Lancelot, code-named the Watcher, and is a strategic expert. Under their command is a very elite team. The team are all your friends, people who understand your behavior.”

My shoulders sagged when I heard their names. “I just... have such a hard time believing...”

The last time I saw Lancelot, it was at Johann and my wedding. He carried my palanquin. I looked at Mingfei and his expression was equally grim.

“Of course,” Crow continued, “You two claim you’re not the same people everyone remembers, so its possible that they don’t really understand you. According to our intelligence, there was a cargo last night for medical supplies that was unloaded in the suburban airport. Lancelot and Shinnosuke Fujiwara picked up the goods.”

“Who is Fujiwara?” My ears perked up.

“He’s my assistant. A new agent from the Academy to Japan.”

My panic flared. “The Academy! That guy is spying on you!”

His fond smile at me seemed condescending but before I could continue, Crow said. “Don’t you think I know that? He showed up after the wanted order was sent out by EVA. After Hydra didn’t respond quick enough to their call to action. This whole act between you and me was to pull the wool over his eyes.”

“Was he the one who delivered that video to you? With the fruit?” I asked challenging his calm. “It used that clapper sound... only Herzog used that clapper! Who says that guy’s not really Herzog?”

“Herzog is dead, deader than dead. We sent divers to Tokyo Bay and recovered some of his remains.” Crow said, raising his eyebrows. “You think someone smashed to pieces can be resurrected somehow?”

“Who says he needs to resurrect?” I asked, my voice growing shrill. “Isn’t it true that mob bosses still conduct business behind bars? Someone as driven as him might have found a way to conduct business from the grave!”

Crow looked surprised at my words.

"Answer my question. Did Fujiwara give you that recording?”

“Shinnosuke did. However, if you recall, Mingfei-Kun had no reaction when I first played it to Nono.” Crow stroked Ru’Yi’s hair. “It’s unlikely that Shinnosuke deliberately planted the ineffective video. Another video, higher-resolution, was sent to the broadcasting company direct. That was the one that had the clapper sound.”

“And where did that come from?” I asked.

“The Academy. And the video was sent to the Academy from the Gattuso family. They are sending an agent here too.”

Few names gripped me with as much fear as Gattuso. They’d been after me from day one at Cassell. The only reason they didn’t get ahold of my genes was because Herzog out bid them, but what if they didn’t outbid them? What if they funded him? I couldn’t help but think about what might have happened had I foolishly accepted Caesar’s offer to go to his mansion.

They might have experimented on me and Ru’Yi! Maybe even separated us!

“Fengchu?”

Zihang’s voice brought me out of my reverie. He looked at me with worry but I waved him off.

Nono spoke up. “The video was sent from the Gattuso family? With a video asking me to come home?”

“I only found that out after the fact.” Crow admitted.

Mingfei glanced up at her where she stood with the folder. “You think Caesar sent it?”

Nono tossed the folder in the garbage. “He would never use my father to send that message. He would come himself to get me. No... I don’t think Caesar is aware of this at all.”

I looked at Nono with wide eyes. “All it took was for them to get one step ahead and look at how close they came to us!” I turned back to Crow. “Surely they know by now that you’re protecting us. What’s to say they’re not following you right now to put a bullet in your head!”

“That’s why I’m here! This is probably your last chance to escape! What they pulled from that wreckage was no medical equipment! It was strange things. Likely Alchemy weapons to be used against dragons and hybrids!”

“What’s more, Kaguya is mobilizing all her computing resources to stop EVA’s invasion, but it’s only a matter of time before she’s breached. Once Kaguya falls, all your actions in Japan will be exposed.”

“All they have to do is broadcast that clapper sound again and you’re done!” Crow sighed with regret.

“There’s another way they’re tracking us as well.” Nono thought aloud. “Remember the time in Mongolia? We were blocked by people from the Russian branch.”

Mingfei nodded, but I looked between them in confusion.

Nono continued. “It stands to reason that we passed through no man’s land during that time. EVA should not have been able to locate us, but the people from the Russian branch knew to intercept our route in advance.”

Fingel chimed from the table. “How can those bastards guess the way I was charting? They’re cheating I’m telling you! I just haven’t figured out how!”

“Tell your roommate to shut up...” Nono said in a cold voice.

Mingfei picked up the phone and lifted his thumb to press the power off button.

“Wait! Wait I have important information to provide!” Fingel added.

Nono gave Mingfei a wink.

“According to my speculation, we may be carrying some kind of transmitter. This transmitter is very small and a limited battery capacity. It can only send out a signal every once in a while. The college uses this signal to locate us, so they know we went to Mongolia and Tokyo! But because we keep moving, they can’t find our exact location!”

“Oh my god...” I whispered, covering my face with one hand. “You can’t be serious.”

“We got rid of all our belongings... we even dumped our clothes!” Lu Mingfei exclaimed.

“Then there must be a spy among you.” Crow concluded.

We all looked at each other. Finally, our eyes fell on the Fingel Phone.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Why are you looking at me like that? If it wasn’t for me to tell you a joke along the way, could you have had the strength to go on? If I want to betray you, I will just navigate you direct to the enemy!” The phone protested loudly. “I’m the youngest and the cutest of you. You can’t bully me like this!”

Crow huffed. “He’s may be the youngest but he’s not the cutest.” He looked down at tickled Ru’Yi’s ribs.

“Goddamn it, Mingfei shut him up.” Nono hissed.

This time Lu Mingfei firmly pressed the power off button. But he did have a point. Fingel Phone could have betrayed them a long time ago.

“Anyway, hiding won’t work much longer. If the transmitter really exists and we can’t find it, it will be picked up whereever you go. You just have to keep moving. Let those hounds chase you. As long as you’re fast enough, they can’t do anything to you.”

“That seems like a road to nowhere...” Mingfei mumbled.

“It’s really straightforward.” Crow sighed, rolling his eyes. “I must owe you a lot of money in a previous life.”

He cleared his throat. “Our opponent is a group of very experienced hunters. Among them are the finest tacticians and excellent Executioners, fully armed. They’re likely to know your location thanks to some sort of tracking system. But they are very quiet until now, why? Because it is not the time yet. They’re waiting for the most suitable opportunity! It is like a falcon flying in the sky, watching the prey running like mad. They want to catch you in one pounce!”

“So if we keep running, we’re sure to be caught.” Nono said.

“Yes, but in this hunt, although they are falcons, they are not completely reckless. You’ve proven yourselves capable of a good fight more than once!”

“What’s your plan?” She asked.

“Attack in our own defense! Before the wall is breached, strike them first and make good use of our home court advantage! It will be what they least expect!” He pounded his fist into his palm.

“Are you out of your mind?” I asked, “That seems like its asking them to come down on us harder!”

“Then why haven’t they already?” Crow asked me, a sly smile on his face.

I shut my mouth. Yes, why such a small team of personal friends? Why not bring down everyone they had? Even on the street of Tokyo, they had only sent one helicopter against Mingfei.

“Two possibilities. One, they haven’t shown all their cards and two their goal is not to hunt you at all, but to watch you and wait for reinforcements to arrive. If there are more reinforcements coming, they have no choice but to sit and wait.”

“But it doesn’t matter what their plan is if we take the initiative and force them to act outside their plans! Then you can leave Japan while they regroup. By the time the reinforcements arrive, you’ll be long gone!”

“Who can control Susie and Lancelot?” Asked Nono.

“Leave those two to me. Just pack your luggage. I will send the Crane team to handle them. They’re well trained and reliable.”

Mingfei looked doubtful. “Those are from the Japan Branch Executive Department. They’re not your personal soldiers. If you call them, it is the Hydra acting against the Academy!”

“I’ll act as scapegoat!” He pressed his thumb to his chest. “This will have nothing to do with Hydra! I will take the blame and resign and then be locked up by the Academy on a small island in the Pacific. They can’t keep me there forever...”

“Or they can kill you and make it look like an accident...” I said, looking away.

Crow’s voice held a gentle note I hadn’t heard before. “The party’s rule is not to kill except for dragons, Death Servitors, or out of control hybrids.”

“I no longer trust the Academy. Not without Anjou.” I pressed my lips together. “And there are fates worse than death.”

I looked back at him, unable to control the worry in my eyes. “Ru’Yi knows you now. But if you die now... she won’t remember you when she grows up.”

Crow settled Ru’Yi back on the bed, stood up, and walked toward the door.

“After you leave Japan, I will just run away. I’m not a patriarch, but just a second-rate character with limited ability. I’ve planned your escape route already. I just need to implement it and give you instructions.”

Mingfei took one look at my face and stood up from the table. “I’ll walk you out.”

#Dragon Dancer #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Chen Moutong #Nono #Mingfei Lu #Lu Mingfei #Luminous

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who-is-olivia · 5 years

Text

Track 4. Two Ghosts

Harry Styles x OC x Taylor Swift

Harry reunites with Olivia after he settles in a relationship with Taylor Swift. [4.5k]

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: substance abuse, mentions of panic attacks, mental health struggles, infidelity

January 2013

“I just left the keys with Nialler, mine and El’s, tomorrow we’ll come pick up the rest of my clothes” Louis explains over the phone while Harry looks at the New York landscape through snowy windows.

After the successful tour, there was no more financial reason to share a flat with Lou, and before that there was not a good healthy climate to share it either. He felt terrible seeing him every day after they shared such intimate moments. They’re still close friends, just not as much as they used to be, and it hurts. He misses the days when they would play video games on the couch and diss each other’s clothing, he misses the companionship they shared. In fact, looking back to this time last year, there’s a lot of things he misses. His anonymity, his mum’s house, Oli...

Boy, does he miss Oli.

Few months after her first big hit debuted, launching her album and promoting their tour, she became too stressed. She felt the hate and the press lurking around her like vultures, she cried about small things, she smoked three packs a day, she became aloof and apathetic. One day, it was all too much.

Since she decided to live with Frank her mother has shut her out, they haven’t been on speaking terms. Right after the tour, when her band started racing up the charts, a tabloid wrote an article with her mum spilling all of her life story. Oli’s always been very secretive about her family history, Harry knew the basics but she seldom talked about it. So one day she woke up and everybody, in the whole world, knew and judged her for it.

Looking out the window, the New York landscape disappears and he’s back in her hotel room holding her by the shoulders, her eyes puffy and vague, her tear-soaked face was catatonic. She had been kneeling on the living room unable to move or talk for hours and it scared him. She was absolutely broken, and no amount of love declamations and tears were enough to bring her out of that loop.

Harry took her to a mental institution that day and never saw her again, all he heard from Frank was that she went back home to make peace with her mother. That was back in September, now it’s January and he still haven’t heard from her, so he’s trying to move on. He’s been hanging out with Taylor, she’s good company – and, most importantly, a good distraction. They’re set to travel tomorrow and enjoy some well deserved vacation but he hasn’t packed swimsuits or anything, so he’s going out to buy some after he’s done with Lou.

“It’s alright mate”

“Okay, I’d hand it to you in person but I was thinking about taking El to meet my mum”

“Wow, that’s huge!” he smiles sadly, he never got to introduce Oli to his mum. Bet they’d get along just fine. “You think you’ll be back in time for rehearsals?”

“Can’t miss that, Simon’d just kick my arse”

He chuckles, “Right, see ya then”

“See ya” they both hang up.

Although Taylor offered to host him at her private loft in Chelsea, Harry opted to book a hotel room on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, next to where Olivia used to live. So, when he goes out for a morning jog, he always walks past her building and the pub where she used to work. This morning, he packs up to go shopping and leaves the hotel, reaching a point where, if he makes a turn, he’ll reach the tube and go shopping right away, if he goes forward he’ll pass in front of Uncle Jim’s Pub, but he’ll have to walk another twenty minutes before he finds another station.

It’s a pointless ritual, going over to Uncle Jim’s. She’s never there. But he can’t help that fear in his guts of missing an hour on the day where she might just be. So, despite all logic, he goes forward.

He soldiers through the cold morning stomping over melted snow until he passes over the pub. He looks through the window and this time spots something odd, or rather, someone: a man in a dress sitting over the bar.

He comes closer, rubbing the glass to see better. He spots Jim sitting on one of the tables, his signature cane beside him. They’re both looking at the same spot on stage but he can’t quite see it. Slowly, he opens the door and immediately hears the soft piano tiles playing something harmoniously crude but melodically so, so sweet.

There she is, beautifully onstage playing the piano forte, her back perfectly straight, her signature braids are gone, her hair a small afro surrounding tanned cheeks. She looks sober and... peaceful, all her nervous agitation is gone, she looks healthy.

He hides behind the bar, bumping into the portraits on the wall: Uncle Jim with Brian May and David Bowie, Oli and Frank sitting on Elton John’s knees, Paul McCartney watching her play the piano. He remembers Oli talking about uncle David and uncle Paul but he never saw it like this, her sweet toothless smile alongside some of the biggest rockstars in the world. She has a lot to live up to, maybe he didn’t realise that. He didn’t realise a lot of things.

For a while, Oli was just the thrill of the chase, someone untouchable who graced him with her affection. But then they went on tour and suddenly she wasn’t just a fling, she was a friend who stood at the backstage every single show, who talked to him until late hours on the tour bus, she shared her most vulnerable side and he loved it, he loved her. Those stolen kisses and quick fucks became meaningful, they became friends then they became lovers. That’s why it was so hard to watch her crumble.

The portrait he bumps smashes on the ground making them all turn, including Olivia.

It’s like she’s seen a ghost. And so has he.

“Harry” she gasps, getting up from the stool. Jim and Frank both turn toward him with big salutary gestures.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“Oh, don’t worry! How’ve you been? It’s been a while!” Jim nods, unable to get up.

“Jim, we better give ‘em some room” Frank, always the expert on reading the room.

“No, no, no need, we’re going outside” she indicates for him to follow her out the door. Before she walks out she notices Frank’s weird looks, she sends one back signaling it’s alright in their own mental language and pushes Harry out the door.

Harry is still appalled, trying to make sense of things while his eyes are assaulted by the winter morning’s sun. She pulls the door until it’s shut and, when she turns to leave, she finds herself being cornered against the glass by Harry. She stumbles back before being welcomed into his embrace.

He sighs in relief, feeling her hair tickling his cheek as it used to do. He can’t help but smile at the sensation of her body pressed against his and her gentle hands making their way to his back. “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” she sighs through a smile. “I’m so sorry for the silence”

“I understand” he kisses the top of her head, “how’re you feeling?”

“Fulfilled, relieved... it’s like there’s a huge weight off my shoulders” she steps to his right, “You’re heading this way?”

“I- I don’t know”

“Jesus, Harry, let’s just walk” she mocks, “How are the boys?”

“They’re fine, Zayn and Perrie just moved in together”

“Nice” she swallows dryly, hadn’t she gone away maybe she and Harry would be living together.

“Niall is going out with someone, he won’t tell us who but we know” he chuckles, “we’re making bets on it, wanna join?”

“Sure” she replies, still thoughtful.

Noticing her discomfort, he hurriedly switches the subject, “I guess things with your mum were alright”

“It was fine, we just needed some quality time to put our thoughts in order. And Frank helped a lot, you know, getting her to know him made all the difference” she smiles earnestly, “He’s the fucking best, I couldn’t have done it without him”

“Blimey...”

“What?”

“I just... nothing, it’s silly”

“You’re silly all the time, tell me!” she taunts him with a smile.

“I already know what you’re going to say” he warns, “but sometimes I wish you were talking about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re such a-“

“-jelly baby, yeah I know!” she laughs, a laugh he was dying to hear.

“- such a jelly baby”

“Oli” he cuts that sweet sound, “I need to know... did you ever get to hear what I said to you the day you passed out?”

“No... sorry Haz, I just zoned out. What was it?”

“No, it’s nothing”

“What? Why are you so secretive today?” she continues to taunt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to meet a lot of people today, least of all you...” a thought crosses his mind, cutting his speech, “When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning, I got a night flight from Rio-“

“Were you going to call me? After all that happened?”

Olivia ponders for a moment, afraid of giving him an honest answer. He’s always been sincere, even if it hurt her, now it’s time to return the favour: “I don’t think so, Haz... It’s not because I don’t care about you or anything like that, it’s just...” she looks for the words but this time they’re hard to uncover, “I’m feeling fine now, but I can’t forget the fright I gave you. I don’t remember what you said or what was actually going on but I have a clear image of you just” she crosses her arms over her collarbones, “holding me so hard I almost choked, I can’t imagine how that felt to you... and I don’t want to put you through that again. I’m fine now but I don’t know how I’m gonna be tomorrow, I still feel the old me lurking just around the corner. Feeling fine is new territory to me, but I don’t know how you fit into this”

He nods, “Let me know when you do?”

She grins, “Of course! Yes, of course!”

And then she does it again, hugs him like she used to, pressing her whole body against him and nestling her head on the crook of her neck. He wants to turn her and kiss her so bad, but he can’t do it. That’s what they used to be, not who they are.

“I better get back, Frank must be losing his shit... how long you’ll be around?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, me and... hm... Taylor”

“Taylor?” she frowns. Fuck.

For all the tabloids and gossip websites, she has to hear it from him. Why can’t she just use her phone like a normal human being and read the fucking news? “Taylor Swift? We’ve been hanging out...”

“Oh...” she gasps in surprise.

“You didn’t say anything, I assumed-“

“No, it’s alright” her words don’t align with her face, “It’s ok Harry, really”

“You don’t seem ok”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all” she compensates with an awkward smile, “I’m happy for you”

“Thanks” he replies with a sour taste, he can feel when they’re not being honest to each other, in this cases cordiality is worse than just lying. Lying just hides something, cordiality shoves the thing in your face and acts like it’s not there.

“Oh, just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon” she reaches into her sleeves and takes a colourful bracelet, “just a little souvenir from Rio, I was going to keep it in my bag but I thought I’d lose it”

“Thanks Oli, that’s lovely” he watches as she ties it around his wrist.

“Well it was great to see you, have a nice trip tomorrow!” she pecks his cheek and leaves.

Just as she came, she went away. Not a moment with Oli ever feels wasted but they sure do feel short. Without any options, Harry goes on with his day chores which now include buying swim gear for a trip he doesn’t want to make anymore.

He lifelessly picks random trunks and floral shirts, taking fewer than he’ll actually need then takes a cab to Taylor’s place. When he arrives the Chelsea flat, she’s reading a book on the couch, her perfect blond hair on a ponytail.

“Hey, stranger!” she looks over the backboard.

“Morning!” he comes over and kisses her temple, but she calls him back with a finger and presses her lips against his. “What’re you up to?”

“Not much, just finishing this” she shows him a copy of The Hunger Games, “I’m loving it. Everything’s already packed, I guess we’ll just wait around”

“I could use a nap, jet lag is driving me mad” he scoots over the couch and pulls himself a pillow, laying his head over Taylor’s lap. She rests her book over his chest while mindlessly playing with his fingers. While she’s distracted, he notices something about her face: even without any makeup, Taylor’s lips are still tinted red, which contrast beautifully with her stark blue eyes. Despite having a beauty of her own, she reminds him so much of Lou. For the second time today, he feels an uncomfortable void on his guts after remembering fondly someone he loved.

He turns his gaze away, it hurts so bad to be haunted by these people who feel so close and vivid but at the same time feel like a distant memory, a ghost. He talked to Louis on the phone, he just saw Olivia on the flesh, Taylor is right in front of him caressing his hand but they feel so foreign. Maybe they’ve changed a lot ever since that idealised moment when they fell in love, maybe Harry’s the one who’s changed.

“Hey” she whispers, “what’s going on in your head?”

“Just thinking... do you still talk to the people you used to date?”

She chuckles at he spontaneous question, “Not on purpose, I always bump into them at these big events and of course everybody knows, so I have to be polite. If I even blink wrong the whole world will be like: Taylor Swift is just a bitter old hag”

“Come on, now”

“It’s true! If I talk to them, I’m fake, if I don’t talk to them, I’m rude, there’s no winning for us girls. You guys can do whatever you want!” she pokes his side, “If you see your ex and talk to them you’re oh, so polite and considerate, if you don’t talk you’re really discrete-“

“I get it” he nods in agreement. “But that’s not what I meant, it’s like... can you still be friends with people you used to be more than friends?”

“You and your weird questions” she mocks him lightly before sighing and finally answering: “It’s weird being friendly with someone you shared so much intimacy with”

“Yeah” he nods.

“ Just seeing them reminds me of something that I used to feel but I can’t talk about it, so I always end up tiptoeing around it and I... I hate it. I’m usually very straightforward but in these tight corners I never say what I really mean”

He nods silently. If he could see Oli again, what would he say? There was so much he wanted to say, in fact he already said it but she wasn’t able to listen. It’s so frustrating...

Taylor and him spend the day together lounging around, making out and napping. At some point they nap in a hammock, her body cuddled against his while the night falls outside. She sleeps very quietly while he doesn’t sleep at all, just stare at his new bracelet and ponders upon the last words Oli said today: ‘just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon’. In a few weeks he’ll go on tour, her band split and they have no projects mapped out, when will they actually see each other again? On tour, they spent every day together except the ones when they’d be tired of each other and just spent the day apart. It’s so upsetting not knowing when he’ll see her again, that feeling just turns to a small pit of fear in his heart. What if his story with Oli is already over? It can’t be, he still has so much he wants to do, so many places to take her.

But coming back from his daydream he finds himself laying with another girl. Shouldn’t he be planning things with her? For fuck’s sake, they’re about to take a romantic trip together! Still, looking ahead to his future, he can see nobody but Olivia. She’s left such a gap in his present and in his future he can’t stand the possibility of not taking a chance.

Trying his best not to disturb her, Harry gets up from the hammock and walks to the kitchen. The fridge light washes the room white as he finds the rest of the wine bottle, there’s just two gulps left so he decides to take the whole thing. When he closes the fridge, surprisingly the room doesn’t go dark as the moon shines furiously through the windows. Another memory hits him: when he and Oli hid on the roof of their hotel in Phoenix. She took a bottle of rosé and a few blankets, cuddling with him while trying to remove the cork. She said “I hope you like a good rosé, I hate red wine”, and ever since then he lost the habit of drinking red wine... until today.

As if to defy her memory he drinks the wine anyway but somehow the taste feels repugnant. Even now, she still haunts him. He looks over to Taylor and an enormous guilt befalls him. She is incredible, a good company, but his heart still beats for somebody else. He hits his head against the fridge in shame but it won’t change how he feels... so he decides to seek counselling.

He calls Zayn at least three times but not even a friend in need can dissuade him from deep slumber. So, he heads to the balcony and calls his second option, the one he wants to avoid but can’t anyways: “Hey curly, what’s going on? It’s a bit late here”

“I know Lou, I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help it”

“It’s alright, I’m up already. What’s going on?”

“I saw Oli today, she’s back in New York” he blurts at once, looking back at the balcony door to make sure Taylor’s still asleep.

“That’s great man, cheers-“

“Yeah, except I’m with Taylor now and I can’t stop thinking about Oli”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “Oh... that’s bad”

“I don’t know what to do, mate”

“Harry... I should tell you to stay with Taylor, you know, ‘cause she’s a nice gal and she helped you out of a tough place, but...” he smiles sadly, “I know if I tell you this is the right thing to do you’ll do it, even if it hurts you”

Harry snorts, “I probably would”

“Exactly, so I can’t tell you that. Listen mate, I... I fucking adore you, you’re one of my best mates and I know what happened between us hurt you”

“It’s alright now, Lou”

“I know it is, but I don’t want to be that wanker to tell you ‘just forget your feelings and do what you have to do’, you know?”

He chuckles, “Sure mate”

“See? So, in my humble opinion, you should go for Oli. I know you’re crazy ‘bout that lass... and, you know, we won’t get everything we want in life, specially us if we keep the band thing going. The least you can do is have fun with someone you love”

“Thanks, Lou”

“Anytime curly... ‘though if you can call a bit earlier”

“Right, right... bye mate”

Olivia tosses and turns on her bed. The flat is so quiet when Frank’s not home, it’s unnerving, specially when she’s emotionally wavering. She gets up and away from her tormented thoughts and searches for one of her vinyls, she could do with a bit of music to drown it all out. She finds ‘Rumors’ from Fleetwood Mack and places it on the speaker, swinging to the melody of the first track and letting the tune fill her ears. She starts to assemble a cigarette while keeping a distant eye on her phone, she’s been trying to avoid it ever since the breakdown but seeing Harry today was very triggering. A spark of curiosity hits her but she refrains, last time she spent too much time on her phone she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

She finishes rolling her cigarette and lights it, getting up and singing along. It’s a good song, but not good enough to distract her from the temptation of her phone.

“Fuck it” she reaches the phone and searches for Twitter. Turns out Frank deleted it so she has to download it again, letting the anxiety take her reins as nervous tears cloud her view. Sighing in frustration, she logs in her secret account and searches for Taylor and Harry. “So stupid, so fucking stupid” she puts it down.

Oli takes a long drag, holds it for a while then let go, letting one single tear fall down in self pity. Unnerved, she takes the phone back. She looks at the search results: Harry and Taylor walking down Central Park with Baby Lux, kissing after her midnight show in Times Square, talking at a restaurant. And of course, where there is a new girlfriend there will be comparisons:

@directionfever: Thank god he’s moving on from his drug dealer.

@bluejayway: my boy Harry looking like a prince with that new chick, he finally getting what he deserves

@styyles_xo: That’s the smile of someone who ain’t playing nurse anymore and’s finally living <3

@larryxx: taylor aint all that but at least harry is free from that fucking pr relationship

Oh yes, the PR argument. Of course Harry and Olivia were arranged by a group of public relations managers in order to promote her career, as if she couldn’t possibly fall in love with him just for the sake of it. And boy did she fall graciously in love with him. It felt so strange seeing him this morning and just not squeeze his cheeks and give him a kiss, she didn’t even feel like the same person. Now he’s going away and all she wants is to fuck all logic and reason and just get him back like nothing ever happened. But of course, everything happened. She made a choice to stay away after she came back, now she has to deal with the most uncomfortable consequences

Before she can fall deeper into that self-doubt abyss, there are knocks on the door. “Frank? Did you forget the keys?” she asks wiping her tears.

She opens it to find Harry.

“Haz?” all coherent thoughts evade her, “W-What’re you doing here, it’s past midnight already-“

“Did you, hm... did you see the moon?” she frowns at him but not completely dismissive, “It looks just like that night... bloody hell Oli, do you remember that night? On the roof?”

“Yes, I remember” she chuckles.

“If I close my eyes I can see it clear as day, I remember every single day I spent with you clear as day, it’s so clear I can almost touch it, love” he sighs shyly.

“Harry...” she gasps.

“The first night on the bus! Do you remember it?”

“Harry I had a breakdown, not amnesia!” she laughs before noticing the typical agitation on her hallway and the neighbors paying attention to their exchange, “Shit, come on in”

“What I’m trying to say, the best way I can is... I have this very vivid memory of you and I thought that’s all I’d ever have. But when I saw you this morning... I thought we still had a chance” he reaches out for her, before slowly recoiling at her lack of response, sitting at the couch’s arm rest. “Please say something?”

She quirks her head, “Is that Frank’s shirt?”

He looks down at the plain white t-shirt and frowns, “This?”

“The one he gave to me and then I gave it to you?”

“Hm... yeah, did you hear-“

“I did” she smiles shortly, “I just don’t know what to say, I mean I was just here bawling my eyes out thinking I’d never get to see you again and all of a sudden you’re here saying all these things!” her voice cracks. She stops, takes a deep breath and continues: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say”

“You could say: ‘I’m really, really in love with you and I want to try again’” he mimics her lower pitched-voice while pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt. She giggles at his little tantrum, pacing closer until his chin rests between her breasts. Without another word, she strokes his curly locks of hair and holds him close agains her bosom. He nuzzles a straight line from her sternum to her collarbone, feeling just a tinge of her cologne. Every crawling touch feels like he’s desperately trying to remember how it feels to have her heartbeat singing in his ear.

He pulls her shirt collar down and the loose fabric slides revealing a bit more of skin and a couple more tattoos. He runs his lips over it, feeling the sweet taste of her skin just as it used to be. Looking up, he sees her eyes lightly shut, her parted lips lit by the moonlight that invades the living room. He remembers when having her like this was enough, when he felt truly alive. Olivia is still everything he really needs, the rest is the rest. She’s not a ghost, she’s not a reverie, she looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels so real to him, it’s impossible to desire any other incarnation of her other then the very present one.

“Haz” she sighs in a whimper, pushing him away a bit. She tries but she can’t escape his looming eyes. “I know I have no right to ask anything from you... “ her courage suddenly evades her, “but I don’t want you to go”

He cups her cheeks in a small comforting gesture, “I won’t go anywhere”

“What about Taylor? She must be so upset with me”

“Believe me, you’re not the one she’s upset with, it’s ok” he dismisses it, leaning in to kiss her lips passionately. “I’m right where I want to be” she smiles and kisses him back.

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2minsgf · 7 years

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Libra sun aqua moon Virgo venus cap mars

you may be my very own soulmate let’s get married and raise children

#send me your chart I will say if would smash or pass

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 5 years

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Their Hero Academia – Chapter 29: Class 1-A and the Sports Festival Part 2: Finish Lines and Score Cards

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Earlier chapters can be found here

Izumi let out a small gasp as she saw the third stage of the race rise up before her and Katsumi. She might have expected another obstacle like the pillar field they had left behind. She might even have expected a mine field or something like that, but no, that wasn’t it.

Before they, rising up and completely blocking any way around it, was what appeared to be a demolished office building, leaning sharply to the left and crumbling. It was too tall to go over it, above the flight ceiling, even if she could make that much ice that quickly.

“You’re… you’re seeing this too, right, Izzy?” Katsumi asked.

“Indeed I am,” she said. “Any suggestions?”

“And the first students are coming on the final stage!” Present Mic’s voice cut through the noise of the race and crowd. “They’re gonna have to make their way past this destroyed office building if they’re gonna get to the finish line! It’s still anybody’s race!”

“Smash through,” Katsumi said. “Break through a window, maybe third floor or so… then we just have to push out the other side.”

Below, she could hear the whooshing-zip sound of Isamu and saw him sliding towards the building, Mineta still on his back. Aoki, the girl with the wheeled monopod instead of feet from Class 1-C, was very close behind them. Katsumi’s suggestion seemed risky… but she was also not sure she had anything better. Especially since Isamu likely could simply just slide around the outside of the building.

“So we shall.”

Izumi concentrated, lifting them up higher on her ice slide, pushing towards the building. “Clear us a path!” she told Katsumi.

“On it!” Katsumi broke a chunk of ice off, held it in her hand for a moment, then threw it like a baseball. It impacted the window ahead of them and exploded with a powerful but short-lived boom, creating enough of a whole for them to pass through. She extended her ice slide, creating a bridge to the hole Katsumi had created and both stepped inside.

With her feet on solid (albeit crumbling) ground, rather than her own ice, Izumi suddenly realized just how bone-wearily tired she was. She hadn’t made that much ice, processed that much heat in… she honestly couldn’t remember when. Even with her regulator rig, it had taken its toll on her. Suddenly, she felt her legs collapse out from under her and she sank to her knees.

“Izzy!” Katsumi screamed, and she dropped down to her own knees, her face inches from Izumi’s own. Katsumi put her hands on her shoulders. “Izzy! Speak to me! Are you okay?”

Her eyelids feeling heavy, Izumu shook her head. “I may… have overexerted myself,” she said, quietly, ashamed. She was so certain she had the stamina for this. And now she was letting everyone down…

“Here,” Katsumi said, turning around. “Climb on my back. Can you hold on, at least?”

“I… think so…”

“Then we’ll do that. I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“You really do always have my back.”

“Always, Izz. Always.”

***

Her terror abated for the moment, and Izzy on her back, Katsumi ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She did take pride in her fitness. It wasn’t her Quirk, it wasn’t some mutation like Horse-Girl’s hooves, this was pure physicality, all her. And she was in damn good shape, if she did say so herself.

Damn, though, if Izzy wasn’t light. Her friend was thin and willowy compared to her, but she hadn’t realized how much. She couldn’t be much more than forty-five kilograms. No wonder she was so winded.

Legs pumping, Katsumi made her way around the wrecked office they’d found themselves in. She leapt over a desk, landing with a hard thud and a “Huhp!” shout from herself. Dodge a chair, avoid a fallen I-beam from the ceiling, avoid the dangling wires… plenty of obstacles to avoid.

No one else around though. They meant everyone else had taken some other route. They weren’t so far ahead that others shouldn’t have been catching up, but looks like they were the only ones on the third floor. Which also meant that she couldn’t tell how far ahead or behind anyone else they were.

She’d didn’t hold too many illusions about first place, as much as she would have liked it. She was competitive to a fault, but she was also a realist. She just needed to do well enough to make her mark and get her and Izzy to the next round.

And maybe try and do better than Toshi or Kana. Show them she still had plenty of game. Not that either of them would look down on her. But she had to keep pushing.

They were close to the other side of the other side of the room now and Katsumi grabbed a desk chair as she ran by, imbuing it with the explosive power of her Quirk. She gave it a hard shove, sending it careening across the floor on its wheels until it impacted with the wall.

KABOOM!

The explosion left a large hole in the wall and Katsumi didn’t slow down for a second. She’d gotten real good over the years at figuring out exactly how long it would take something to explode and how big an explosion it would make. By the time the smoke from the explosion had cleared, she was right upon the hole she’d created…

“Hang on tight, Izz,” she said.

And jumped right out the hole.

Maybe not her smartest idea. But she always was impulsive. It usually served her well. A good yell and a good solid punch were what she considered basic necessities in the fight against evil. Knock the guy out early, you don’t have to worry about untangling their plans or strategizing.

The ground was coming up awful face and she braced herself for impact. It hurt like crazy, but nothing seemed broken. Instantly, she broke into a run, with the finish line in sight.

“Still with me?” she asked Izzy.

“To the end,” Izzy told her.

Behind them, she could hear the sounds of shattering glass and smashed steel and concrete as other students burst through other floors and windows of the collapsing building. With some of them decidedly faster than he, Katsumi ran, as hard and fast as her legs would carry her.

“And now the first runners are coming up on the finish line! Will it be one of the duos from Class 1-A? Someone else? Those last few meters are still anyone’s game! One thing’s for sure… they better have those cameras ready down there!”

***

In all honesty, the third leg of the race had been the easiest for Isamu, even with a passenger to account for. He’d had to rely on Mineta to protect him during the swarm of minus one-pointers, had to use a lot of care and caution during the pillar zone, but the building? Unlike a lot of the others, he hadn’t even needed to go inside. With his Slide and Glide Quirk, he’d been able to simply slide over the outside of the building, putting him on the ground before anyone else had even made it outside.

“We’re doing it! I can’t believe we’re actually doing it!” Mineta shouted from his back. She was remarkably cheerful considering she’d nearly fallen off three times during the pillars. Where, admittedly, she’d come in handy too. She’d actually been able to keep a couple pillars from rising up at them with her sticky balls. He’d not, if he was forced to admit it, had much of a high opinion of her prior to this. But maybe she was all right after all.

“We are…!” he shouted back, a little surprised by it. All these other people competing, all those Quirks, and he was winning? He was half convinced he was actually in a coma after having been set on fire and this was all just part of his coma dream.

And there it was: the finish line.

“Hang on tight,” he said, putting everything he could into his speed. He couldn’t go full out and expect her to hold on (not to mention the effects of wind burn or being able to breathe, things he was adapted to), but he was giving it all he could.

He was still going when he felt her digging her hooves into his sides. “Hey! Hey! You can stop! We did it! We did it! SLOW DOWN I WANNA GET OFF!”

Her words drew him out of his focus and he skidded to a rather sudden stop, applying a bit too much breaking force. Mineta went flying forward as the laws of physics kicked in, landing upside down on the ground in front of him. She let out another cheer. “I’m okay!”

Isamu helped her to her feet, then turned to watch the big screen as others started coming across the finish line.

“And second across the line are Haimawari and Mineta from Class 1-A! I guess you could say he made this a real slide show, eh, Eraser?”

“…You can make me sit up here, but you can’t make me respond to your dumb jokes, Mic.”

“Looks like your class teamed up for this one! Anything you’d like to say about that?”

“It’s technically within the rules.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Anything else is between me and my class.”

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

“Thank you.”

Well, if that wasn’t ominous…

“And that’s number forty-two over the finish line! We’ll be putting the countdown of our winners up on the charts in just a minute, but for now, let’s go down to Hawkeye and get the scoop on our first place finisher!”

The camera zoomed in on Hawkeye, who stood with the guy from 1-E who’d apparently come in first. Jin Ando was a short boy, with dark hair cut into a bowl cut. Rather than looking excited (Right now, Isamu felt like he had enough energy to Slide and Glide his way around the whole world) though, he just looked bored, like he wished he was somewhere else.

Some of the others from 1-A had gathered around. Isamu turned to Midoriya. “Do you think they’re going to let him win?” he asked. “Are there rules for teleporters or something?”

Midoriya shook his head. “I don’t know… teleportation Quirks are super rare. There’s maybe a dozen listed on the Public Quirk Registry. It’s probably not something they planned for. Of course, if they don’t let it count… that means you won, Haimawari!”

Isamu felt himself go pale. He hadn’t thought about that! He definitely did not need to be worth a bajillion points in whatever came next!

***

Toshi gave Haimawari a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Relax,” he said. “Whatever happens, we’ve got your back.”

“I… thanks, Midoriya,” Haimawari said. He didn’t look any less tense, but Toshi did see that he was breathing again, so that was good. He probably shouldn’t have said anything and gotten him all panicked.

“After deliberation with the Principal and the other teachers,” Hawkeye said, “we have decided to allow Ando’s first place finish to stand.”

A combination of cheers and boos went up from the crowd. Toshi wasn’t really sure what side of the fence he fell on. On the one hand, Ando had used his Quirk, the same as any of them. On the other hand, he’d completely circumvented the obstacles all the rest of them had had to negotiate. He firmly believed people should be able to use their Quirks as freely as possible… but it just didn’t seem in the spirit of the event. It wasn’t pushing himself, it wasn’t rising up to a challenge… If Ando was a long-range teleporter, than what he’d done wasn’t any more difficult than walking across the street for him.

And with a Quirk like that, why wasn’t he in the Hero Course?

“However,” Hawkeye said, “we will be issuing rules going forward to that will further clarify and restrict the use of such Quirks during similar events for future Sports Festivals.”

Ando took a step forward. “I just want to say thank you for recognizing my victory. I’ll now be withdrawing from the Festival. I hope everyone keeps me in mind as I begin my delivery business going forward. As you can see, I offer near instantaneous delivery times.”

He vanished from the stage in a flash of white light.

A long moment of silence held the crowd, until Hawkeye spoke again. “All right,” she growled, “with that over with… let’s take a look at how our top forty-two did!”

Toshi looked over to the big board, this time displaying the ranking students. Pictures appeared alongside them as their names and classes appeared.

1) Jin Ando, Class 1-E, General Studies

2) Isamu Haimawari, Class 1-A, Hero Course

3) Mika Mineta, Class 1-A, Hero Course

4) Yui Aoki (the wheeled girl from 1-C, Toshi realized), Class 1-C, Hero Course

5) Katsumi Kirishima-Bakugo, Class 1-A, Hero Course

6) Izumi Tododoki, Class 1-A, Hero Course

7) Haya Tanaka (the comet girl from a last month… good for her!), Class 1-C, Hero Course

8) Kana Tetsutetsu, Class 1-B, Hero Course

9) Chizue Kuroiro, Class 1-B, Hero Course

10) Sora Iida, Class 1-A, Hero Course

11) Chihiro Kaminari, Class 1-A, Hero Course

12) Tensei Iida, Class 1-A, Hero Course

13) Takiyo Aoyama, Class 1-A, Hero Course

14) Toshinori Modoriya, Class 1-A, Hero Course (Not bad… he wished he could have placed in the top ten, but in the top fifteen wasn’t bad at all.)

15) Shota Shinso, Class 1-A, Hero Course

16) Hizashi Koumori (A bestial, bat-winged boy), Class 1-B, Hero Course

17) Takuma Sero, Class 1-A, Hero Course

18) Kenta Sato, Class 1-A, Hero Course

19) Inori Tagikawa, (A blonde and otherwise normal looking girl), Class 1-C, Hero Course

20) Goro Gomusuk, (The guy who’d inflated himself like a beach ball and bounced around during the race), Class 1-B, Hero Course

21) Yoru Kan (a pale girl with fangs who looked a bit uncomfortable in the sun), Class 1-C, Hero Course

22) Asuka Tokoyami, Class 1-A, Hero Course

23) Akaya Koda, Class 1-A, Hero Course

24) Taichi Yamachi, (Was he a centaur?), Class 1-C, Hero Course

25) Kimiko Dashi, (A girl with short hair with three stripes in red, yellow, and blue, and what looked like a traffic light strapped to one arm), Class 1-B, Hero Course

26) Rukia Yagami, (A tall girl who looked like she was made on diamond), Class 1-I, Support Course

27) Joichiro Koichiro, (A guy with short, dark hair, and… two pupils in each eye?), Class 1-B, Hero Course

28) Momoko Mogura, (A short, mole-like girl with glasses), Class 1-F, General Studies

29) Ichigo Minoru (A lion-like boy), Class 1-C, Hero Course

30) Sasuke Kido, (A red haired boy who seemed to be shimmering slightly), Class 1-B, Hero Course

31) Ken Tenoh, (A guy with a wild, untamed mane of black hair and claws on his fingers), Class 1-D, General Studies

32) Rei Endo, (A blue-haired girl with pointed ears, but not readily apparent Quirk), Class 1-E, General Studies

33) Anime Fukidashi, (A girl with too large eyes and who looked like a living animation cel), Class 1-B, Hero Course

34) Mio Yamaguchi, Class 1-B, Hero Course

35) Sozo Horikoshi (Was he carrying a sketch pad?), Class 1-D, General Studies

36) Hekima Kodai, Class 1-B, Hero Course

37) Koharu Kocho (A slight, butterfly winged girl), Class 1-F, General Studies

38) Shikha Mizuno (A girl with antlers and big ears), Class 1-C, Hero Course

39) David Togata (Was that a flying skateboard? Good for Dave!), Class 1-G, Support Course

40) Daisuke Shoji, Class 1-A, Hero Course

41) Kimiko Ojiro, Class 1-A, Hero Course

42) Shiro Monoma, Class 1-B, Hero Course

“Of course,” Hawkeye went on, “with Ando withdrawing, everyone will be advancing one spot and we will be moving up the current forty-third place finisher. That student is Jin Choyaku, from the Hero Course, Class 1-C!” Toshi watched as a boy with curly dark hair and what looked like coiled springs below his knees joined the other kids from 1-C who had passed.

Various cheers and congratulations when up among the students. So many students in the race, and only these forty-two had made it. Toshi was proud to count himself among them, and even prouder that unlike any of the other classes, everyone in his had made it. There were a lot of Gen Ed kids who’d made it this time too. Five all together. Which really wasn’t all that much, given there were two form the Support Courses and thirty-five from the Hero Courses, but definitely more than most years. If they were serious about getting in… well, he hoped they had a good shot.

“I’ll give you this, Toshi,” Katsumi told him. “your teamwork idea really paid off. Got everybody through just fine.” She gave Haimawari a harsher look though. “Doesn’t explain how you pulled off a win, though.”

Haimawari let off a little terrified shriek, but he didn’t try to hide behind Toshi (difficult, considering he was taller) like he might have a few weeks ago. “Trust me,” he said, “I don’t know how I pulled it off either! I, ah, I guess I just had the right Quirk in the right place for it. But you were doing really good too! I saw you booking it at the end there!”

Katsumi crossed her arms, but gave a small nod of approval. “And that was pure me. So watch yourself, Newb.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Haimawari said. “Watching it, ma’am.”

He went quiet for a moment, as a thought seemed to strike him and the color drained from his face again. “Wait a minute. The teleporter kid’s win counted. But he dropped out. That means…”

Toshi gave a pat on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring “It means you won!”

“I won!” Haimawari shouted, throwing both arms in the air. “I won! I won! I… won.”

He took a moment to look around at the other forty-one who’d passed the first round. “Ooooh, this is gonna be bad.”

Hakweye called for silence again. “And now for the Second Stage! For this, we’ll be splitting you into two teams. Those of you whose placement was an odd number will be on the Blue Team and those of you whose placement was an even number will be on the White Team. Team Captains will be Isamu Haimawari and Katsumi Kirishima-Bakugo, as the first place finisher and first even-placed winner to complete the race under her own power rather than riding or being carried.”

She pointed to opposite ends of the stadium. “For now, both teams should proceed to end zones. You’ll be met by a teacher there who will hand out equipment and then I will explain the rules for our next event: Quirk-Ball!”

Toshi saw Katsumi flash Haimawari one of those grins she got right before she screamed and punched the hell out of something. “Looking forward to competing against you, Newb,” she growled.

Well… this was going to be interesting.

#their hero academia #my hero academia #fan fic #fan fiction #my writing

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 17: Man as Enemy to Man

Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Death, dirty language, violence Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Brunnhilde, Thor, Heimdall Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Radicalization is a Bitch, Questions Questions, I Don’t Know How to Ride a Horse, But I’ve Seen it on TeeVee, Hell Day Summary: Reader has a very busy day.

Loki sent the messenger ahead to tell the stablehands to get his horse ready, spending just a handful of moments on finding you something warm to throw around your shoulders.

“Would that I could leave you behind, _____, but I cannot this time.” He led you swiftly through the Capital Building, out into the stable yard. People deftly slipped out of his way, his presence seeming to project ahead of him like a wedge.

“We’ve seen that we mustn’t be separated by such a distance, as the deleterious effects set in on you very swiftly. And more; you may be able to identify this person for us. I understand that it might be frightening to face someone who has tried to kill you, but-“

“We don’t really know that for sure though.” You pointed out. “They could have been aiming at you. This knife can hurt you, can’t it?” You patted the blade at your waist. “Normal weapons can’t, can they? But this is something special?”

“An astute observation. I’ll explain more about the knife later. Unfortunately, it has become much more likely that you were the intended target after all.” He hesitated. “_____, someone has been killed. Another human. You need to be prepared for…unpleasantness.”

You shuddered. Living with one murderer, and about to go face another. Though Loki might not have been altogether in control of the bloodying of his own hands, you had no idea if anything had been done for the families of his previous victims. Had anything been set right? Was he even a bit remorseful?

That was, of course, if he wasn’t lying about everything.

“I…can probably handle it.” You had seen dead bodies before. But those had all come back to life in the end; or rather, they had never died in the first place. This poor dead person was going to remain that way.

“There’s Einherjar there, right?”

“Correct. You will be safe.” Loki would be there too. If he wanted to keep you alive for his purposes-nefarious or not-he would have to protect you.

Loki’s beautiful horse, Leynarodd, was brought out, but no horse was brought for you. You’d heard the horse that had been stolen was returned now, and you were glad to hear it, but she wasn’t here. Instead, Loki helped you up onto the huge animal, then climbed up and settled down behind you.

The severity of the situation finally hit you, only as you were being borne inexorably towards it. An actual murderer awaited you, one whose victim was there, on site, where you were now heading. They had tried to kill you: earnestly tried to end your life. If the knife had been made for throwing, if you hadn’t been wearing thick layers, they might have succeeded.

And now you were travelling right to this person, someone who wanted you dead for reasons you didn’t even know.

Your heard raced faster with every hill and valley that brought you closer, but closing your eyes only forced you to concentrate on the power of the horse beneath you, of how closely tucked up against Loki you were. Of the perfect cage of his arms holding the reins to either side of your shoulders, thighs pressed the length yours, torso molded to your back. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t help but focus on how a person has to move their hips in order to effectively ride a galloping horse.

You were breathless and nervy by the time you arrived, so clearly anxious that when Loki helped you down off Leynarodd’s back, he held you between himself and the horse for a few moments, rubbing your shoulders in what he must have thought was a calming manner.

The area was a mess; the ground disturbed by scuffle, and strewn with garbage. Close to the trees, a bloodied Asgardian soldier was draped over a sheet-covered body, wailing. The sergeant in charge of the investigation approached, grim-faced.

“Oh no.” Loki breathed. “Is it-?”

“I’m afraid so.” The sergeant confirmed, speaking lightly accented English, for your sake. “I knew this would end in tragedy, but I didn’t think it would be like this. I should have known something was suspicious when she volunteered to watch this area so eagerly. If I’d known, I’d have sent someone else, and that poor man might still be alive. He was a citizen of this land. I don’t know if we should send word to the authorities yet.”

“Do you have the killer?” Loki asked.

“Oh yes.” She said. “The miscreant is over here.”

She led you several dozen yards away, over a low hill, out of sight of the grieving soldier. You found yourself curling your fingers around Loki’s and, noticing your apprehension, he did not pull away.

Restrained and surrounded, a scruffy, roughed-up man sat on the ground, scowling.

“You.” Loki said sharply. “You have murdered a citizen of this nation. What have you to say for yourself?”

The man ignored him, fixing his hateful stare on you.

“You’re still alive.” He growled, disappointed. He had an American accent.

Loki stepped forward to loom over the man.

“I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, and you will answer to me.” There was anger in his voice, the kind that had made you cringe in the camp. Now, as then, it was on your behalf, but it still made you want to shrink back. “Why have you killed this man? Why have you tried to kill this woman?”

The man flinched from the power of his voice.

“They’re traitors to their people!” He exclaimed. “Abetting you invaders, betraying their own for your attention! For you! A usurper! A mass-murderer! We aren’t going to sit back and let you invaders steal our women! And we won’t abide traitors to humanity!”

“A terrorist.” Loki sighed, voice full of disgust. “Cease. That’s more than enough.”

“Is it good when he fucks you?” The man snarled at you. “Good enough to commit treason against your whole planet? You’re the devil’s whore, and we won’t stop until you are in the ground, you-“

Loki’s boot smashed into the man’s already bruised face, sending him rolling over himself in the trampled flowers.

“Oh, I would like to kill you.” Loki hissed, as two guards hauled the man back into a kneeling position. “But I won’t make a martyr out of slime. All your hatred for us, and you manage only to harm other humans? Pathetic. You have murdered an Icelandic citizen, and you will be turned over to Icelandic justice. You will rot in a human jail and be forgotten. I don’t even care to know your name.”

With that, the prince turned his back and carefully pulled you away, sending the sergeant on a journey to the nearest settlement, to contact the authorities.

“Don’t you listen to a word he said, he is clearly a madman who knows nothing of the situation.” Loki helped you back up onto his horse.

“Did you know him?” He asked on the way back. You were riding at a much more leisurely pace, now that you were no longer in a hurry, allowing you to take in the magnificence of the wild Icelandic summer, and also allowing your heart rate to remain only a little elevated, instead of completely off the charts.

“I’ve never met him, but I think I’ve seen him before.” You said. “In the camp, I think? He was playing an instrument by a fire. I think that was him. Was he there the whole time? Do you think he followed me? He was talking like there were more people like him, do you think there are more coming? Or already here?” Your voice raised, becoming shrill with fear. “Will they just keep killing people until they get me?”

“Shh-shh…” Loki switched both reins to one hand, freeing one arm to wrap around you. A quiet whine escaped you through gritted teeth, finding little comfort in being held tighter to his body. “No one will ‘get’ you. Now that we are aware of this danger, we will all be ready. I…I did not sense any lies from him. Whether there really are others or not, he truly believes that there are. But even if there are more, there is at least one that is now out of the picture. I will see that he does not become glorified, that he is treated as any other criminal: reviled or forgotten.”

He held you tightly all the way back, trying to quell your flourishing paranoia, but you couldn’t help but stare at every person who passed you, searching for signs of hidden hostility. There were Asgardians who didn’t like humans. They could kill you just as easily, maybe moreso than another human. After all, other humans weren’t allowed in New Asgard. You were surrounded by Asgardians all the time.

You didn’t feel safe again until dinnertime, and that was only because you were surrounded by actual gods, that you knew were at least a little fond of you.

All of them were excited about the laukas that Loki had mentioned, which turned out to be something a little like leeks. They were very tasty, but not as exotic as you thought they would be. They probably meant more to the Aesir around you, like a taste of lost childhood. It was a miracle that they grew here at all.

Loki had briefly mentioned what had happened earlier, leaving out certain details, like the murderer’s tirade against you.

“How do you fare?” Heimdall asked you quietly. You didn’t think you could lie to him. You might be able to lie to Loki, and though he would know, he might not call you out on it, but Heimdall probably would. Besides, his concern seemed so genuine, it felt wrong not to be honest.

“Not very well. I’m frightened.”

“This is a harrowing experience, and I regret you’ve had to go through it.” Thor said.

“I hadn’t even thought about what a bunch of strangers might make of this. I never expected to be hated over this. I thought everyone would be mad at his highness maybe, but not me. None of them know what’s really going on.” It was all so completely unfair. You hadn’t asked for any of this. You couldn’t even enjoy your time here, as an impromptu vacation, like Loki had suggested. You felt like a prisoner.

“Everybody feels entitled to an opinion.” Brunnhilde said. “Seems like the less they know, the more details they have to make up, to have opinions about.”

“You can see anything, right?” You asked Heimdall.

“In theory.”

“Could you see if anyone has tried to cause trouble for my dad because of this?”

Heimdall fixed his amber gaze on some faraway point.

“Your father is in a large vehicle. He is singing along to music, and appears unharmed. There is a small, gray flerkin with him.”

“What?” Brunnhilde gasped. “Here? On Earth?”

“What’s a flerkin?” You demanded, startled by the reaction.

“We must do something!” Loki exclaimed.

“Everyone, settle down!” Thor commanded. “There are no flerkins on Earth right now. There are however, small creatures kept as pets that superficially resemble flerkins. Possibly a form of mimicry for defensive purposes. It’s very effective; they look exactly the same, but here, they are known as ‘cats’. _____, does your father own a cat?”

“Momo!” You exclaimed. “Okay, so he’s on a job right now. Good, good. I hope the other truckers aren’t on his case. Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

Heimdall simply inclined his head.

“Um, is it okay to ask you how it works? Like, is it rude to discuss god power stuff?”

“Well…” Thor began. “It’s not taboo or anything, but there are rude questions and polite questions, just like anything else.”

“I just wonder, when you look at those far away things, is it like you are actually seeing them in front of you? Or is it more of an image in your mind’s eye?”

Heimdall’s expression changed noticeably for the first time since you had met him, revealing pleased surprise.

“It has been a long time indeed since anyone asked me about that. In fact, if I remember correctly, the last person to ask me almost exactly that same question was, I believe, attempting to find a way to hide from my sight.”

Loki hastily shoved another lauka into his mouth.

“My sight has varied applications. I can see through others eyes, and share my vision with others. In a way, all eyes are my eyes. I can see just a little into the past, and a little into the future. However, when I look into far realms, and not through someone else, it is far more within my mind, as you would put it, and I remain aware of my immediate surroundings.”

“Wow. You know, I don’t think I would really want to be able to do that. You’ve probably seen all kinds of things you rather wouldn’t have.”

Heimdall smiled, flashing bright teeth. “You would not be wrong.”

“And you control storms?” You asked Thor.

“Kind of, yes. I can call lightening as I will it, and thunder naturally comes with it. I do have some control over weather, locally, whether it rains or not, and where, and for how long. Plants seem to grow more vigorously wherever I spend much time.”

“Children too.” Heimdall pointed out.

“That’s a good thing though.” Brunnhilde added. “Our numbers are few. But Asgard has never had a fertility god as king before, only war gods.”

Thor squirmed, both Loki and Brunnhilde giving him teasing looks.

“But brother, aren’t you proud to be such a great aid to your people?”

Thor squirmed more. “Cut it out. It just feels…coercive. That’s all.”

“It is simply Nature, amplified.” Heimdall said. “There is nothing shameful in passively assisting something that was going to happen anyway.”

You’d never thought of it that way before; of the responsibilities that might come with godhood. It was something one was born with, and surely some Aesir were uninterested in being Aesir, but if they all had powers that passively effected their surroundings, there might be no escaping it.

“Besides,” Thor grumbled. “Father was a wisdom god.”

“Odin was a war god up until he decided to rebrand.” Brunnhilde pointed out. “And he was only able to take up the mantle of a wisdom god because of all the secrets he kept. Easy to seem wise when you’ve hoarded away all the vital information. And we all saw how badly that went.”

Loki covered your ears.

“Not in front of the mortal.” He said, even though you could clearly still hear.

The Valkyrie abated. “Dark as it may seem, we have an incredible opportunity right now. The both of you now know exactly what kind of things not to do. Odin kept too many secrets; Thor may be meant to air them out. Maybe that’s why he sweats ozone.”

The kings face turned bright red.

“You noticed that too?” You asked, prying Loki’s hands off your ears. “I’m not the only one?”

“He’s a breath of fresh air, in his own way.” She teased.

“And you have supreme battle goddess powers?” You asked Brunnhilde.

“Ooh, I like that.” Brunnhilde preened. “Also, I can see the dead.”

“What?”

“Well, the recently dead, anyway, and only those slain in battle. Furthermore, I can see how they died, and how they comported themselves in every battle they ever took part in. One of the Valkyries duties was to choose which fallen Einherjar got the honor of being interred in the Black Hall. That’s not really a thing anymore, so that ability is pretty useless now.”

“Hmm.” Loki mused. “I wonder if that might be helpful when the investigators of this land come around to ask us about this recent unpleasantness.”

“Maybe.” Brunnhilde glanced over his shoulder. “He did follow you home, after all.”

Your insides went cold.

“W-what?” You stammered, really hoping she wasn’t implying what you thought she was.

“He fought hard, for someone who was not a warrior. A lucky strike got him in the end, but he made a very spirited showing. Not quite Valhalla material, but nothing dishonorable either. “

You clung to Loki in utter horror. The living dead were real, and one had followed you home. You were certain that if you looked behind you right now, you would see nothing. Brunnhilde was probably the only one who could see it; maybe Heimdall could too. Not being able to see it, but knowing it was there was almost worse.

Loki let you cling, draping his cape around you like a shield. You buried your head in it. Scary movies and ghost stories were one thing, but none of it was supposed to be real!

“Could you send him on his way, perhaps?” He requested on your behalf. “It won’t do for him to stay overlong. He might get stuck as a vengeful spirit, and his lady would not want that for him.”

Brunnhilde nodded. “She is fine.” She said to the place beyond Loki’s shoulder. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. You can go in peace.” She tilted her head. “Really? Thanks for the info. Farewell.”

“Is he gone?” You whispered.

“Yes. But he did say that the killer mentioned that he had friends coming. We should probably get you trained up in self-defense.”

There was a round of agreement from everyone.

Your tasty lamb and laukas sat heavy in your stomach, and your distinguished company seemed to tower over you, so important and untouchable. How could you protect yourself? Maybe you could just ask Loki to lock you up in the little room, so you could sleep until this all blew over. Just stay in bed until everyone had forgotten about you, until you became nothing more than a legend.

You were already kind of an Asgardian cryptid, gathering stares wherever you went. That Beli fellow, wanting to use you as a teaching aid, the sewing ladies, dressing you up like a doll. Loki, parading you around as his personal prize. But who among them actually knew you? How could anyone know you, when you were starting to not even know yourself?

Learning how to use your new knife would be a good first step in taking yourself back. Whatever Loki’s plans for you, he had to make sure no one killed you beforehand. Whatever else he might do to you, he could at least be counted on to try to keep you safe.

*****

“Your lady is deeply troubled.” Heimdall told Loki, after you had been put to bed.

“I’m beginning to notice.” Loki said. “And she’s not my lady.”

“Please.” Brunnhilde scoffed. “You honestly think old Beli was gonna keep his mouth shut about your announcement? The whole court knows. All the Einherjar know. I give it three days before even the smallest child knows.”

“Then they can celebrate with us!” Loki said. “I know Father had no need of a seidkona after he married mother, but the tradition is still there, and I still have the right to choose my own. Even if I don’t exactly need sorcerous support, it’s still a good place for her, still within tradition. It should be acceptable.”

“Alarr and his posse are furious.” Brunnhilde informed him. “They are threatening not to appear for this Buridag celebration, and to keep their families at home. They are agitating to convince others from coming as well.”

“Of course they are.” Thor sighed.

“He’ll have a demon of a time trying to keep Andsvarr away.” Loki said. The boy was more than a little smitten with admiration. He would probably fight to get to the celebration, if he had to.

“What are her thoughts on the matter?” Heimdall asked.

“She’s fine with it!” Loki said. “I told her about it when we were discussing celebration plans with Beli. She came up with the most wonderful idea-“

“Are you sure she was fine with it?” Brunnhilde asked. “Or did you just tell her it was happening, and she didn’t think she was allowed to say no? She might not think she’s always allowed to say no to you, and that is a much bigger problem than you want to admit it is.”

“Now just a damn minute-“ Loki began.

“Does she even know what a seidkona is?” Thor wondered.

“She…might not, actually. I thought she did, but now that I think about it, it might not have actually been mentioned in detail…”

They all ganged up on him then, and as irritating as it was, they had good points. Did humans even have seidkona? How could she know how important this appointment was? How could she act in proper capacity for her title when she was still a novice?

“Look!” He said, raising his voice over the protests. “I’m going to address all of these issues. But not tonight. Buridag is still months away, and I will be training her up in magic and knifework for her own protection. She will not be unprepared.”

“But she’s got to understand what it means.” Brunnhilde said. “And Heimdall is right, something is troubling her, and it’s not just the assassination attempt. Although that didn’t help.”

“I’ll see to it.” Loki promised. “Starting tomorrow.”

#loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#Heimdall (Marvel)#valkyrie (marvel)#brunnhilde (marvel)

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cruzrogue · 5 years

Text

Enter My World

Previously chapter1

Intro: This came to me after seeing the train wreck of what Robert Queen has done. Two powerful families of Starling/Star City have failed so many people including themselves. Anyways I decided to write a piece that is like Bizzaro World where The Merlyns and Queens didn’t screw everything up and actually were pillars of the community, and omg good parents past and future.

Chapter 2

The long L-shaped hallway off the antique main staircase carries the sound of heavy footsteps heading to a particular room. Heavy in the sense that the man walking hurriedly across a very exorbitant rug his wife had just had installed days ago to check on why his youngest ran into their home sobbing. His bubbling happy little girl crying is unthinkable. Last time she was known to do this broke his and Rebecca’s hearts as they had to tell her in different ways that she is a blessing to them and no matter what they were all a family.

The large oak door separates them and he can’t tell by standing on this side if she is still crying. He’ll have to cross the threshold into a very young feminine room that actually speaks of science fiction and her love of animation. Oh, he has seen one to many cartoons with her seated against his side as she giddily talks about as many characters in detail that always seem to be never-ending and he makes sure to invest time to learn about each little character that brings out a spark of light. He finds between both of his children he is well versed in modern day kid related pop culture. As a man who holds the classic works dear to his own upbringing, he loves sharing anything his kids will ramble on about. Coming home from a corporate world it brings a warmth to his whole being that he has two children he adores and a wife he loves that are also happy to see him. Life is good. Now it’s time to make his ball of sunshine break a smile as he takes his fatherly duties to include.

Behind a door, Felicity smashes her face deeper into the pillow not caring of anything as her tears are absorbed by the soft material. Her heart heavy, she doesn’t want to feel the anguish that a stupid boy is causing. She said her peace and knows there is nothing else she can do. He’s too dumb to see. She shouldn’t have kissed him maybe she’s the real dumb one. Now she’s lost Oliver, her Vernnie, well her Vern. Even now she thinks that is a stupid nickname that only she used. He’s never corrected her and even shared a personal nickname with her and she’s never been one to like pet names but coming from him it was special. Now that is all gone. She’d never hear it again.

She doesn’t notice the door opening and surely not the dip on her bed but when a large hand stirs her from her loud sobs peaking to already guess it is her father who she passed on her gloomy run to her bedroom to happily shut the door to her existence.

Muffling out “…Me alone…”

“I’m sorry sweetie but I can’t understand you muffling into the pillow.”

She rises enough to grumble. It makes him chuckle which only adds to her frustrations. “Dad, I want to be alone.” She then plops back onto her now dampened pillow. She hears a hum but he doesn’t leave as he now begins rubbing her back.

“A new component for your computers came in.”

She sighs inaudibility onto her pillow but her dad isn’t going to get the picture. He is so obtuse at times. He really is a family-oriented man. How she guesses tragedy changed him to making sure everything he considers important always knows he is there. She should be glad but right now self-pity is the highlight and it’s for a party of only one.

“I don’t care.”

That gets a reaction. “Don’t care?” She can hear her dad make a grumble sound of displeasure. “Since when? You’re my electronic bunny who has always been excited for these things. It’s something you carried from before this household was blessed with your presence.”

She moves her face to look at his. “Dad!” She blinks a few times as she shakes her head at him. “Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?”

“Me? Dramatic?”

“You make it seem I was the best thing…” He stops her as his arms easily move her into a sitting position as her little limbs are over his lap and make it more comfortable to talk and look at the tear-soaked girl who has his heart.

“I need you to listen, you are one of the best things that has ever graced my life. You are my daughter. No matter what is happening in your life I want you to know your mother and I love you very much.”

She can’t look away even though she feels small. Being in his strong arms in a position that has her eyes in sync with his. “I know.”

“You can talk to me about anything.”

“Ah dad.”

“Really Felicity, I still remember the day you came home from school crying because some mean kids said that you weren’t a Merlyn. You kept that to yourself allowed it to fester. Not knowing what made you withdraw it hurt your mom and I deeply. To hear it from another person that you thought once we tired of you, we would send you away. How could we ever do such a thing?”

That makes her tears fall uncontrollably. It was Oliver who tattletale on her. She told him that in despair and he couldn’t let her think that she was just a filler and had the courage to tell her father how she felt. At first, she felt horrified that he did that but he told her she would do the same. They looked out for one another. Another reason that her heart hurts. He won’t be there for her no more.

She hears her dad say words of comfort. Words to open dialogue but she is so distraught. She really wants to wallow in this pain for a while. Even so she says in-between sobs, “I’m sorry daddy.”

“Oh, my ball of wonder. You’ll don’t ever need to apologize to me. I’m your dad. I’m here for you. Please tell me what’s wrong?” With her trying to not cry the effort very much appreciated by him. He could leave her to cry some more but that really isn’t their way. If he of her mother can be there, that is where they’ll be.

Because he brought up the first moment, he found her like this even back then before a young boy he also considers to be a son told him why she was so distressed he tells her, “I will always honor your parents. They saved my soul. Their most cherish gift is you.”

After a hiccup she adds wondering about her real parents, “I still miss them.”

“I know sweetie. We’ll miss them together.”

His own eyes become glossy as he remembers that moment that moment the ball of events started and reshaped his life. Malcolm Merlyn will never forget that message left on his phone after his wife was shot. Her words still haunt him but then he heard other voices comforting her telling her that help was on the way. Applying pressure to her wound. Being there for her. He will never forget meeting the heroes that saved his wife. Noah and Donna who were instrumental angels in keeping Rebecca alive. Their own anguish of leaving a family courtroom as divorcees to leading in saving a woman they didn’t know but helped just the same.

In a sitting area at a busy hospital he hugged them even offered a monetary award and they just were gracious that they could help and told the man they needed to pick up their daughter so unbeknownst to him as the they went on their way that their lives would be cut short. In leaving Starling City with a daughter that he wasn’t privy in meeting. Just to find that they were in a horrible car crash that the emergency personnel had to use the jaws of life to pull a little girl from the car. She was alive but now an orphan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere in the same capacity of time the news that Rebecca wouldn’t be able to have another child if she one day desired to. Their personal doctor looking over the chart again and with them looking at the man who would shed some light if she indeed could not have another child, she desperately didn’t know she wanted. They had an adorable little boy already. All this time in a hospital checking her wounds with the possibility that the damage due to scar tissue were permanent it held a finite time that any possibility of adding another little one to the family being lost. Holding out her hand as her husband laid a kiss to her palm as the doctor turned now towards them.

“Mrs. Merlyn, Mr. Merlyn. I am truly sorry to inform you both that there is severe damage to carry a child to full term.”

“What does that mean? Full term?”

“The chances are there that the embryo could attach to the womb but after so many weeks’ complications would start to arise. The fetus wouldn’t make it in the third trimester.”

Rebecca wanting to leave so she could cry but stuck in a hospital bed it had him stand up and thank the doctor so the man would leave them be.

Moments later as her sobs took hold, he had to remind her and himself that they had one child at home who they loved with all their hearts. “We have Tommy.”

Rebecca knows this but her baby isn’t a baby no longer. “He isn’t a little baby no more.”

“Rebecca you’ve never cared to have another. I know Tommy is turning ten but he’ll always be your baby boy.”

“I know Malcolm; it is just hard to think that the possibility is taken from us. If, we chose not to have another child it would be our choice but this…”

“I’m just blessed that I didn’t lose you. Now that’ll be something I couldn’t fathom. I love you.”

“I love you too. You also don’t need to promise to cut down on work, I know I married a workaholic.” She kisses him.

“Maybe not but I know I have a family and that should be my priority. I’m so sorry my love. No company in this world measures up to you. I love you so much.”

“Dad? Are you okay?”

Malcolm shakes his head as the last thought was of how he wanted to be a better husband and father. He can’t believe his mind wandered to the past as he is holding a girl who brought hope and healing. That his family grew by one more and even within tragedy there is some good. He hears his daughter now beginning to worry for him. Yes, he is a blessed man to have such a family.

“I’m fine sweetheart. Just recalling the time frame before your sunshine made us all complete.”

“Dad! Please!”

“I know… Too much right?” He smiles as he can be a little dramatic at times.

“I’m going to be okay daddy; you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I will always worry.” He brings her close to kiss her forehead. “It’s a dad thing.”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“You aren’t going to share why you’re so sad? You do know you can talk to me about anything!”

Feeling better with how her dad is just being himself. A worry hog. That maybe spilling a little bit and getting his input could make her feel better. It always does.

“I kissed a boy.” There she said it.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t really know how to counter other than showing some surprise. A part of him cringing thinking he had a few more years. He thought Tommy was going to be the first one to have him and his wife really worry about. Got to give it to his daughter for she is an overachiever. Now he will never get any sleep. He doesn’t say any typical dad stuff he waits to see why she is in her room crying and as the dad who asks the obvious. “He didn’t like it?”

She shakes her head no.

“He didn’t like it?”

“It was barely a second but he doesn’t want me in his life anymore. He said so. Daddy I really like him.” It already has her tearing up. “I know I’m just a stupid kid.” With that she loses it and begins to cry to the point of hiccups.

“Hey, hey you are not stupid.” His voice firm which gets her attention it’s the tone he has when either Tommy or herself do something foolish and somehow they always fear his reprimand. As loving as he can be, he also can be stern. Living without TV privileges or that one time where she wasn’t able to participate in a science fair because of dying her brother’s hair blue. No amount of begging or pouting helped it actually could increase the punishment. So, hearing her dad use his no-nonsense voice she listened. “You are a genius. Do you know what your mother would say if she were here?”

“No. She’d probably just try to coax me to tell her who and why he doesn’t like me.”

Malcolm thought of asking but figured it be best not to know who broke his baby’s heart. He knows his baby will break hearts as well. No, his duty as her father is to help her stand back up after a session of licking her wounds.

“Well then I guess I’ll say what I think she’ll jester on saying…” He winks at her. “Ice cream. I think some mint chocolate before dinner is to be had and then if we need to cry at least our belly be full of deliciousness of gooey happiness.” He sees her crack a smile. Yes, seeing a smile grace her face is all he ever needs. “Come on. I’ll semi race you.”

“Semi?”

“Yes. No running in the house.” He already has her over his shoulders and he can hear her laughing as she tells him she’s a big girl and he declares, “Yes my ball of sunshine.” Her sadness put on hold as the father and daughter duo are heard laughing as they head down the hall.

tagging: @1106angel @memcjo @keabbs @lovelifelovebooks

#Enter My World #felicity smoak #oliver queen #olicity #tommy merlyn #Merlyn family #the queens

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hanverses · 5 years

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Whenever Choi Hanbin recalls the awakening day of the given, he always states the same speech: it was a woeful experience.

One morning in the early stage of the autumn season; where the leaves still hesitated to fully change their colors, but the wind was cold enough to start layering your clothes, Hanbin found himself awake on the hard floor of his bedroom. His neck rested in a distressed position, the spinal column hurt from the base to the very top as if someone had punched every joints and nerve, leaving him powerless on the floor. Hanbin blinked his eyes couple times and turned his head to the side, only to be followed by a breathy grunt as the ceiling was spinning above him. He had never experienced such dreadful headache before, not even when he stayed up all night to finish his artwork. The first three months after his debut as a webtoon artist was expected to be the most wearying time, as warned by his editor, but that day was a hundred times more excruciating that he couldn’t recall what exactly happened the night before. The last thing he could remember was he took the colored pen on the table work and his vision turned dark. Hanbin thought he must be passing out from dehydration--if it was even possible, since he ended up waking up with a dry throat.

He stayed on the floor for few more seconds, before pushing himself to the kneeling position, grasping the first balance his body could handle. Once everything felt less shaking, Hanbin looked up and around his room--it was as messy as it got, even more than he could remember. There was a severe pain all over his head, some places felt like someone was stabbing him with thousands of needles, his long limbs were sore and Hanbin realized he was still only in his underwear, a worn out Spongebob Squarepants boxer that was loose around the hips.

Hanbin sensed, this could be the after effect of lack of clothing to wear at night, that he might catch some cold symptoms, as what his mother had warned previously. And mother is always right, he thought. He sneezed, which only worsen the stabbing sensation in his head. Alas, he had no time to bemoan the aching body since the alarm had broken it silence, reminding Hanbin that he was about to be late to the appointment with his editor. “Oh, fudge!” he cussed, stacking the scattered papers on the floor of the first draft for the next chapter. He had not yet figured the solid plot for the upcoming story, but having a supportive editor was the kind of luck he appreciated in the work field. They always had a constructive feedback to say, which the only assistance Hanbin needed whenever he was facing a block.

As he counted the sheets in his hands, Hanbin eventually stalled on a page which looked foreign and had never been part of the draft he was going to submit.

It was a picture of a wrecked luxury car, in a glossy black color. there was explosion and fire behind it where some other cars collided against each other, the fronts were dented and the smoke soaring up to the sky from one of its hood. from the busted passenger door, there was a lifeless arm hanging.

Hanbin couldn’t recall he ever drew such thing, not even once his story included any tragic accident just like in the picture. Aside from the gruesome view, the image depicted from a different art style compared to what Hanbin usually did. Realistic event was not part of his interest, where his story line was mostly around the science-fiction genre lately. The picture seemed represent the current timeline instead of the futuristic approach, since the vehicles drawn on the paper were more common to be seen on the street these days.

Could it belong to another author, slipped into his documents from the last time he met his editor? The assumption seemed more like a nonsense, because any draft should be kept as a secret until it received an approval from the higher ups to go public. The oddest thing was the paint used for the drawing was still wet. The black ink smeared onto his fingertips when Hanbin gave the paper a stroke. And he noticed, the color scheme on the painting imprinted on his palms. The questions remained unanswered no matter how long Hanbin wandered to solve it in his mind. The clock was still ticking, and he only had fifteen minutes left to reach the publishing company office.

He grabbed the first tees and shirt from the closet and the jeans hanging behind the door, slipping each limbs into the sleeves, pulling the zipper up fast. He checked on the items in his backpack, had to go back to his desk couple times to grab the pen and wallet hidden under the pile of rejected drafts in the corner. He hurried back once again to grab a pair of clean socks. His mother was yelling from the kitchen but Hanbin refused to eat his brunch. “I gotta go, I’m so late. Bye! Safe the toast for me!” He jammed the words and planted a quick peck on her brow. He hopped on the front door while wearing the shoes one by one and dashed toward the open elevator.

The backpack shook along his sprint movement along the pathway, where he had to dodge away from passerby on the street who were slowing down on the intersection. Hanbin almost jaywalked through the road when the traffic light turned red for pedestrians. He waited with others, feet couldn’t stop fidgeting as there was not much time left until his meeting time. Their last conference stressed how important this week’s submission for Hanbin’s rank to keep him stable on the chart, since the arc reached its climax last time. If he couldn’t maintain the momentum for this week, his editor couldn’t guarantee the longevity of his series. Every new rookies would compete for his position, and Hanbin had not settled a place with how his story progressed. Every week was like walking on a thin line, and it was up to his hard work whether he could cross the path safely or not.

HIs deep thought was cracked by a loud screeching sound on the street, followed by a crash of machines seconds later. People screamed and made uproar on the street, the sidewalks were filled with crowds who were pointing at the commotion on the main road. Lucky with his height, Hanbin could look over everyone’s heads and witnessed the event--which sending a long chill down his spine. It was a familiar scene he saw printed on the paper this morning.

A black sedan car which ran passed the red light crashed against another sedan from the opposite direction. One side of it was dented, an arm was hanging lifeless through the broken window. Another car was coming from behind and smashed against the other vehicle from behind, which already released a thick black smoke onto the air. Like a dejavu, Hanbin was certain the view was no other than the image he found on the floor in his room, painted by his own hands.

Hanbin pulled the backpack off his shoulders, unzipping the main container and pulled out a plastic case where he kept all the draft drawings earlier. He scanned every pages and stopped on one particular sheet and drew it to his eye level. He looked at the traffic scene and to the paper back and forth--they were the same sight, the same angle from where he was standing.

The police siren was heard from afar, and Hanbin was unsure if he could continue his walk to the office. He was already ten minutes late.

#selfpara:hanbin #tw:car crash #tw:traffic accident #memento

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dfroza · 3 years

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True illumination within

is the Spirit revealed to our own.

Paul writes of this in Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament Letter of First Corinthians with chapter 2:

My brothers and sisters, when I first came to proclaim to you the secrets of God, I refused to come as an expert, trying to impress you with my eloquent speech and lofty wisdom. For while I was with you I was determined to be consumed with one topic—Jesus, the crucified Messiah. I stood before you feeling inadequate, filled with reverence for God, and trembling under the sense of the importance of my words. The message I preached and how I preached it was not an attempt to sway you with persuasive arguments but to prove to you the almighty power of God’s Holy Spirit. For God intended that your faith not be established on man’s wisdom but by trusting in his almighty power.

However, there is a wisdom that we continually speak of when we are among the spiritually mature. It’s wisdom that didn’t originate in this present age, nor did it come from the rulers of this age who are in the process of being dethroned. Instead, we continually speak of this wonderful wisdom that comes from God, hidden before now in a mystery. It is his secret plan, destined before the ages, to bring us into glory. None of the rulers of this present world order understood it, for if they had, they never would have crucified the Lord of shining glory. This is why the Scriptures say:

Things never discovered or heard of before,

things beyond our ability to imagine—

these are the many things God has in store

for all his lovers.

But God now unveils these profound realities to us by the Spirit. Yes, he has revealed to us his inmost heart and deepest mysteries through the Holy Spirit, who constantly explores all things. After all, who can really see into a person’s heart and know his hidden impulses except for that person’s spirit? So it is with God. His thoughts and secrets are only fully understood by his Spirit, the Spirit of God.

For we did not receive the spirit of this world system but the Spirit of God, so that we might come to understand and experience all that grace has lavished upon us. And we articulate these realities with the words imparted to us by the Spirit and not with the words taught by human wisdom. We join together Spirit-revealed truths with Spirit-revealed words. Someone living on an entirely human level rejects the revelations of God’s Spirit, for they make no sense to him. He can’t understand the revelations of the Spirit because they are only discovered by the illumination of the Spirit. Those who live in the Spirit are able to carefully evaluate all things, and they are subject to the scrutiny of no one but God. For

Who has ever intimately known the mind of the Lord Yahweh well enough to become his counselor?

Christ has, and we possess Christ’s perceptions.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 2 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 37th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that continues with the threat that was issued against King Hezekiah and the people of Judah in Jerusalem, followed by God’s response:

When King Hezekiah heard the report, he, too, was terribly distressed. He tore his clothes, changed into sackcloth, and went to the Eternal’s house. He sent Eliakim, the palace administrator, along with Shebna, the royal secretary and some senior priests—who were also covered in sackcloth—to fetch Isaiah the prophet (Amoz’s son).

Hezekiah’s Men (to Isaiah): Hezekiah is terribly upset. The king said, “This is a calamitous day. It is marked by anguish, chastisement, and disgrace. Things are as desperate for us as for a pregnant woman weakened by labor who cannot deliver the baby because she is physically spent from the birth pangs.”

Hezekiah implores you, Isaiah, “Pray for the remnant that is left here in Jerusalem. Maybe the Eternal One your God will notice how blasphemous the Rabshakeh is (on orders from his master the Assyrian king) and punish them because of what the living God heard him say.”

When the men delivered their message as the king requested, Isaiah responded.

Isaiah: Go back to Hezekiah, your lord and king, and give him these sure words of confidence and hope: The Eternal One says, “Don’t let the blasphemous threats delivered by the servants of the Assyrian king make you doubtful or afraid. Watch! I am going to trick him, to set a spirit against him. Just when he is ready to attack you, he’s going to hear a rumor that there are problems back home in Assyria and he will return there. Not only that, but once he’s back, he will die by the sword in his own land.”

Meanwhile, the Rabshakeh learned that Sennacherib had left Lachish and was already engaged in battle against the city of Libnah. Now the Assyrian king heard that Tirhakah, the king of Cush, had allied himself with the Judeans and was coming to fight against him. The news prompted him to send messengers to Hezekiah with another message.

Rabshakeh: Tell the Judean king, Hezekiah, “Don’t listen to your God, whom you’re counting on, when He tells you that the king of Assyria won’t conquer Jerusalem. Look around you, and listen to the reports of what the Assyrian king has already done to the neighboring nations. How can he destroy them and let you get away? This line of Assyrian kings has demolished all sorts of nations and peoples. Think of Gozan, Haran, Rezeph, and the children of Eden in Telassar. None of their gods saved them. While we’re at it, what do you think happened to the kings of Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivvah? We destroyed them. You’ll not get away.”

When Hezekiah got the written message, he read it. Then he took it to the temple, spread it out before the Eternal One, and began to pray.

Hezekiah: Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, who sits enthroned above the winged guardians—You alone are God. Only You are supreme over all the nations and kingdoms of the earth. And only You have made the heavens above, the earth below, and everything in them. Please, please listen, Eternal One. Attend to us here and now; look and listen. Hear all that Sennacherib said, and all that he wrote, to ridicule You, the living God. Eternal One, he’s right about how the Assyrian kings have destroyed other nations and taken over their lands. And sure, they ruined the gods of those nations, smashed and burned them. But those were not real gods, only the product of human hands, shaped of stone and wood. That is why they could be destroyed. I implore You, Eternal One our God, help us. Save us from the onslaught of these Assyrians. Make it clear to the whole world that You alone are the Eternal One, that You alone are God.

And Hezekiah got a response. The prophet Isaiah, Amoz’s son, relayed this to him:

Isaiah: The Eternal, Israel’s God, the God to whom you prayed concerning the Assyrian king, has this to say against Sennacherib:

Eternal One: The virgin daughter of Zion, lovely lady that she is,

despises you, mocks you.

The daughter of Jerusalem tosses her head and rejects you.

After all, who is the one you’ve taunted and insulted?

Who is the one you’ve slandered with untruths, ugly and dismissive?

Who is the one you shouted at and looked down upon with your arrogant eyes?

None other than the Holy One of Israel!

By way of your servants’ mouths, you have blasphemed my Lord.

Foolish, foolish Sennacherib. You have boasted,

‘My impressive company of chariots has taken me up the highest mountains,

into the far reaches of the Lebanese forests.

I myself felled its greatest cedars, cut down the best of its cypresses.

I have been to its highest peak, and claimed its thickest forest.

I have dug wells wherever I wished, and drunk my fill of others’ water.

I have dried up Egypt’s waterways simply by walking them.’

Ah, Sennacherib, haven’t you heard, don’t you know that long before you arrived,

way back in ancient days, I determined all of this?

I charted this course long ago, and now I bring it to pass.

This is the reason why you turn well-fortified cities into heaps of rubble.

Their hapless citizens look on,

helpless, shocked, and ashamed.

They were temporary and fragile like grass in the field

or tender new growth, like grass sprouting on rooftops

Blasted by a burning wind before it can grow and become strong.

I know everything about you: where you sit, when you come, where you go.

And I know your agitation against Me.

Because of this agitation,

and because your smug sense of security has reached My ears,

I will put My hook in your nose and My bit in your mouth,

and turn you back on the road you came from.

(to Hezekiah) Here is a sign for you: you’ll know it’s true by seeing that in three years, life will be normal again: This year you’ll live off of what grows spontaneously. Next year, you’ll live off of what grows from that. In the third year, you’ll do the planting and harvesting—fields and vineyards—and eat from what grows. And those who have survived in this land of Judah—this remnant—will strengthen their roots and become productive again.

A small group of survivors will emerge from Jerusalem,

from Zion, the mountain of God’s choosing.

Isaiah: The intensive passion of the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, will drive this to completion.

Here is what the Eternal says concerning the Assyrian king.

Eternal One: He will not come into this city. He will not shoot an arrow at it or approach it with a shield or build a siege ramp against it to come over its walls. Instead he will turn around and go back the way he came. He absolutely will not come into this city. I will defend Jerusalem. I will save this city for My sake and the sake of David, who reverently served Me.

Shortly after that, the special messenger of the Eternal One killed 185,000 Assyrian troops. When the morning came, the people could see all the dead bodies strewn around the camp. So Sennacherib, king of Assyria, broke camp and went back to live in Nineveh, his capital in Assyria. But one day, while he was worshiping his god Nisroch in that temple, his sons Adrammelech and Sharezer attacked and killed him. They immediately fled to Ararat, leaving the throne empty. So Esarhaddon, another of Sennacherib’s sons, became Assyria’s king after him.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 37 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, july 15 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about examining our thoughts in view of the eternal:

Our life in this world will end far sooner than we expect, and then what will become of us? I am not here thinking of the end of "the" world, but rather the end of your world - when you will die and face the light of eternity. Today, this moment, you are on the way, going someplace; your “latter days” are already come... If you are not prepared today, how will you be better prepared tomorrow? Today is the day of salvation, the hour that matters most (Psalm 95:7; Heb. 3:13). Learn to die to the world now, to let go of what presently holds you captive, so that you are free to meet that which forever shall come. Don't put off genuine teshuvah: turn while there is still time (Eph. 5:15-16). And may God give us mercy to say from the heart: "For me to live is Messiah, and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:21).

As philosopher Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) once wisely observed: “Let each of us examine his thoughts; he will find them wholly concerned with the past or the future. We almost never think of the present, and if we do think of it, it is only to see what light is throws on our plans for the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means, the future alone our end. Thus we never actually live, but hope to live, and since we are always planning how to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so” (Pensees). Amen, may God help us "remember the future" and live in the light of his great promises! [Hebrew for Christians]

7.14.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 15, 2021

Almighty God

“And when Abram was ninety years old and nine, the LORD appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am the Almighty God; walk before me, and be thou perfect.” (Genesis 17:1)

This is the first of 48 occurrences of the designation of God by the term “Almighty” in the Old Testament. There are also nine times in the New Testament where God is called “Almighty,” plus once where He is called “omnipotent.” The last time it occurs is very near the end of the Bible, telling us that there is no special temple in the holy city, “for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it” (Revelation 21:22).

Thus, in the first and last books of the Bible, and often in between, we are reminded that our God is an omnipotent God. As Jeremiah prayed; “Ah Lord GOD! behold, thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for thee” (Jeremiah 32:17).

Sarah “laughed” when God said that she would bear a son in her old age, but God responded: “Is any thing too hard for the LORD?” (Genesis 18:14). Many years later, the angel told the Virgin Mary that she would have a son, and she said: “How shall this be?” (Luke 1:34.) The angel replied: “With God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37).

Some things God cannot do, of course, for “God cannot be tempted with evil” (James 1:13) and He “cannot lie” (Titus 1:2), so whatever He does is right and whatever He says is true. We may not always understand just why He does or says something, but in eternity we shall learn that He was indeed able to do what He says. He is omnipotent!

God did create the cosmos in all its macroscopic complexity and all the living kinds with their microscopic complexity. “I am the LORD, the God of all flesh: is there any thing too hard for me?” (Jeremiah 32:27). HMM

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blossaem · 7 years

Note

cancer sun, leo moon, libra rising, virgo venus, scorpio mars🖤

smash, i find the virgo venus paired w scorpio mars very endearing :’) virgo venus puts a lot of care into the little things n scorpio mars love is v intense.. cancer suns r fun to be around as well

send me your chart & i’ll say if i would smash or pass 👀

#ask

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royalrastafariannaynays · 7 years

Text

It Feels (minific)

It’s opening your eyes that hurts the most.

Moving the next second, you feel some pain from your… knee? And then the tube tugs in your arm, sending shocks from the needle, and you wince. And there’s a cast around your leg, and a splint brace on your wrist, and there’s tape and gauze all over your hands and shoulders and a few places on your arms.

But… opening your eyes hurts more than anything in your life.

Because there, sitting wrecked and asleep in a chair right in front of your bed, is John’s dad.

He’s basically your dad, at this point. Just officially adopted you as his kin a few months ago. You’re on the insurance and everything. He rescued you, and he’s tried so hard to help you be okay.

Now, that’s not the part that hurts.

No, the part that hurts, is that you’re too broken to make it work.

And you’re too fucked up to let him help.

The drugs on your brain are making you feel a little better, pain-wise. But there’s a horrible, messed-up, sinking feeling in your gut that’s not letting you participate with the class and be a good son. That feeling is everywhere. It makes you feel heavier than lead, heavier than weed, heavier than a Sunday morning after the first night in forty where you slept more than four hours consecutively.

It makes you feel like concrete. Shitty, plain, hot under the sun, cracking, old, and messy concrete. While he half-sits in that chair, breathing deeply and just barely snoring. His wrinkles are more pronounced, and he looks… terrible. By the greasy hair, he’s been caking on deodorant to stop from smelling terrible, as well.

The air vent in the room turns on, and you rip your eyes away from Mister Egbert Senior to look around the room.

Everything feels numb.

There’s a card or three on the bedside table. One with a can of shaving cream from John. He must be in class right now. It’s a Monday, right?

There’s also a small arrangement of flowers in a cube vase. It’s got some woody curly branch in it, and a few happy colors of flowers surrounding a single rose. That will be from Rose. It’s… smaller than usual. And less extravagant. It’s this bouquet that almost sets you to feeling like crying for the first time since you opened your eyes.

Rose would have sent it. “We’re glad you’re still here, Dave,” the little card in it reads. And the lily in it is just starting to open, and it’s got a big old sunflower on the side, your favorite, and you know she meant it. Your fucking sister. She’s got all the right tools to show just how much you mean to her.

And it feels a million times worse.

So you tear your gaze from the flowers, as well.

There are two crows hanging out on the window sill, and one of them looks inside and squawks. Are they here for you too?

And just as they squawk, and two more flutter down to join them on the ledge, you hear something fall to the floor.

Standing in the doorway is Karkat.

His eyes are full of tears as he scrambles to pick up the grape soda he dropped, and you watch with wonder as he hisses curses at himself. His little black fingernails and his thick fingers clench on the can, tapping the top so that it might still be okay to drink.

“Fucking,” he grumbles, and it’s the first voice since you blacked out from pain at that mall. “Cost me two dollars and I can’t even stop dropping this ice-cold piece of shit.”

“K–” you start, and you can’t finish. Karkat walks over to your bedside, and he looks rumpled. This kid you’ve had a single class with, who asked you on a date and you turned down, who brought you a candy apple after Halloween because you wanted one, who drove you home from school a few times, who silently held your hand and kissed you oh so softly in the closet at Jade’s New Years party. This kid who’s into football because he needs an after school activity and is your same age and is built like a truck, this guy who you thought was a jock but found out he hates jocks. This guy who’s been becoming one of your best bros.

This guy. Is here?

After what you did?

You gaze up at him in something like shock as he seats himself in the chair you didn’t notice, right next to the bed, with the Letterman across the back of it. You know that Letterman was paid for by the school, and it’s the only coat he owns, and that he’s only good at the sport for scholarships. And he’s so smart, too. And he’s so focused on school and doing well so that he can get a good job to help his dad retire early.

And. He’s here? For you?

He cares that much, about you?

Guilt wracks your body.

Karkat sniffles, and snaps. “What.”

“I…” you try, and it’s croaky and harsh and weak.

Your un-tethered hand scrabbles at your face to push up your shades, but they’re not there. Panic swells in your chest, and you hear the heart monitor spaz a little as you scan the room for them.

“They were smashed in the fall,” Karkat explains, softer than before.

When you look up, his eyes are searingly gentle. Auburn, soft against his olive complexion and angry brown hair.

“Oh,” you try, voice crackling on the single syllable you can get out, and you want to punch something.

Part of you is angry that it didn’t work. Part of you is angry that things still hurt. But most of you is angry at yourself, for doing something so stupid.

Now, you relive in slow motion.

“I’m really glad I got to talk to you again, Dave,” he says.

Exactly how it feels to jump off of a second story outdoor walkway.

First, there was trepidation. That day, going to visit Jade at the Earthbound Trading Co where she worked, you hadn’t even been planning it. But walking out of the mall, you were struck by an urge. Not necessarily to die, no. Though you didn’t know if you would care if the fall killed you. Was the second story high enough to kill? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe if you landed wrong.

And what exactly would be the problem with landing wrong, you thought, as you followed the dull impulse and climbed up to sit on the waist-high railing wall. It was a good distance down, maybe not far enough.

There was a sunburn on the back of your legs that protested the hard surface. It was from laying out by Egbert’s pool for too long. John looked worried when you came inside, but you shrugged and laughed it off. It’s not self harm if you just don’t care enough to remember sunscreen, right?

A car passed below, a nicer car than you could probably ever afford. A family passed behind you, murmuring about you in Spanish like you wouldn’t hear them or understand. You watched the glass doors of the mall entrance, and a cool draft from inside hit you in the face.

And then a security guard caught your eye. Opened her mouth, reached out a hand.

And you pushed off. That’s it, you pushed off. Hoping you would land sideways, at the last minute.

The fall wasn’t long enough to regret it. Though you half hit a holly bush, and half of you hit the ground. Left leg first, shin cracking down the middle and your leg buckling as the rest of you followed. Concrete when you hit the ground. A scream. A screech of tires. Head hitting. Pain, and then nothing.

Until you woke up just now.

Karkat is holding your gaze as you stare at him, unblinking, still looking a bit like he could burst into tears.

“The waterworks, Karks? Talk about overdone,” you tell him, looking at the cast. Or, not a cast, now that you examine it through the blankets. A brace, and… lumps of bandages. So the bone broke skin, huh.

“Shut the fuck up already, Dave,” he tells you, and it’s so final and absolute that you do. You slam your mouth shut, and now you feel like you might throw up.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

It’s Karkat’s turn to close his mouth, audibly shutting off his tongue and you can almost hear his frown. “Do you know how much we love you?” he asks. “How much you would be missed?”

“I do now,” you try, and he hisses again, bites back another snapping retort. You said the wrong thing.

“Was it planned?” he asks, then, and you find yourself taken off guard.

Maybe he knows you regret it enough already.

“No,” you whisper, and that’s it. There’s a choking, firm lump in your throat, and you find yourself struggling to breathe around it. Karkat hands you, out of nowhere, one of those tall, thick hospital mugs with the translucent plastic, and you’re only able to sip from it.

And then, a nurse comes in, smile on her face and way too sunny for the situation. “Sir?” she asks, patiently and a little tired, like Karkat must have been asking them a lot of questions. You know he gets tired of dealing with people, so you don’t blame him. You guess.

Karkat waves in your direction, and you find yourself locking eyes with the nurse. She looks pleasantly surprised to see you awake.

“Oh, with all that blood loss we were expecting at least another four hours!” she exclaims, and goes to the wall behind herself to fetch a chart and pen. “It’s good to see you, Mister Strider,” she says, so friendly and sweet. You try to smile but you’re sure it only looks like a cringe.

The nurse takes your vitals anyway.

And then she changes your bandages. When she rips the first one off, you groan. And the groan is loud enough to make Karkat snort a laugh, and then something you weren’t ready for at all.

It wakes up John’s Dad. His name is Gene. But you’re not used to it yet.

And you stare at him, and he stares at you. And Karkat watches the nurse like a hawk (his father is a nurse).

Even as the bandages are torn away and replaced, and the lady takes your pain levels and writes them down, and tries to ask you questions about how you’re feeling to which you only have noncommital answers, and then says she’ll be right back with your doctor, you stare at John’s Dad.

He looks disappointed, happy, and sad all in one.

When the nurse is gone, you croak and clatter and try to explain.

But he waves you off.

“You can explain when you’re more comfortable,” he says. And relief floods through you. “Or not at all, if that’s what you want.”

The guilt pours back again. Why didn’t you talk to him, instead? The drugs are making you feel dizzy now, and you shake your head as fast as you can to rid the feeling. Hot tip: it’s not that fast.

“I’m just glad that you’re still here, and you’re okay, and you’re going to make a smooth recovery,” he says, then.

You feel yourself look down at your knees.

“The insurance will cover this, except a small amount,” he adds, and you watch his ankles as he straightens in his chair.

Karkat snorts, and then taps your forehead. He finds the gauze there with one hand, pulling on the tape enough to make you (very slowly) reach up to bat it away. “And possible brain damage,” he says, scolding.

Dad scolds him in turn and reprimands him for the obvious lie, while you work up the nerve to just tell him one last thing.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Like a benediction, like it would save you from anything. Karkat shuts up, and stands. He waves, and says something about giving you some space as he leaves.

John’s dad is quiet for all of maybe five entire minutes. It feels like an eternity. With the drugs you’re on, you’re not sure how much time actually passes.

“It’s okay, Dave,” he tells you. And he stands. You watch his hands wring in each other as he settles into the chair Karkat just left.

“I’m just glad you’re still here,” he repeats his earlier sentiment. You feel your eyes well up, now. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Fuck. The doctor will be here soon.

“After all,” he adds, and his voice cracks. “I didn’t even get to spend enough time with my new son yet.”

You’re crying, now.

Sniffling, ugly, like a new baby. Snot isn’t your friend. Dad knows enough not to hold you, but he lays his hand out to your side, palm-up.

It’s so warm and big as you clutch it, so rough from work and it feels so much like a hug. So much like a hug from the father you always wanted. It hurts, how much you needed it. Hurts how much you needed a parent, a guardian, a piece of comfort and stability. And you sob, there, silently through your dry throat. And he cries a little bit too, you think. But not as much.

You’re still holding his hand so tight when the doctor comes in.

Later, you’ve let it go, but John and Jade come to visit. Rose pays a visit herself before you’re released, reading you poetry as a captive audience. And when you go home, Karkat comes by every day after practice to bring you homework and dote on you. You’ll start therapy.

You’ll get better.

And it’s good.

#davekat vent fic #my fics that i write #ficlet #sadstuck #humanstuck #hs #dk #homestuck #dave strider #fan fiction #negativity #suicide cw #my short fics that i write

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