#so may at least go back and share a few pieces that did better
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fangirling and finances 𓂂 𓇼˚。 •
Summary: offical merch is expensive. the men who sell it are rich. doesn't mean i won't go in a rant about it.
✿ ln x desi!reader ✦
✿ fluff + humour ✦
masterlist ☾☼
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monaco glistened in the mediterranean sunlight, a playground for the global elite. y/n, though, had another purpose. no need for the designer stores; she was tracking lando norris. she gripped her phone, praying she could take a photo if she managed to get close enough. her wardrobe? a much-worn "lando 4" t-shirt, a copy she'd bought from a street stall back home in india. official f1 merchandise prices would make her cry – genuinely, who could possibly afford those prices? seeing a known face by the casino square, y/n's heart leaped. it was him! taking a deep breath, she walked over, attempting to look as casual as possible. "mr. norris, may i have an autograph?" lando grinned, always the professional, and autographed her phone case. as he returned it to her, his eyes fell on her t-shirt. "cool shirt," he said, "but why not get the official merch? the quality is so much better." that was it. the floodgates opened. "are you kidding me? official merch is highway robbery! i could practically fund a small road trip around europe with the cost of one of your official hoodies!" lando blinked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. road trips? he was more used to private jets. "uh-huh," he said, clearly not understanding the financial reality of budget travel. y/n was going strong. "see, a good official t-shirt will cost you about 80 euros, okay? that's, like, 7,200 rupees! i can buy at least five of these fake shirts for that kind of money, and they're not half bad! or, let's look at it this way, that's enough for, like, 140 big mac meals in india! imagine the food coma!" lando stared at her, confusion and fascination warring in his gaze. big macs? he lived in michelin-star restaurants. but she was so vivid, so evocative with her words; the sheer incredulity of her comparisons swept him up in their wake. "right," he answered slowly, "big macs. got it." y/n, unaware of his millionaire thinking, was only just beginning. "and those caps? don't even get me started! 40 euros for a cap? that's 3,600 rupees! i could buy a good pair of running shoes for that! shoes i could use to run away from those ridiculous prices!" lando, however, was undergoing some weird phenomenon. it was akin to "cuteness aggression," but rather than having the urge to squeeze a puppy, he simply wanted to continue hearing her. her furrowed brow, the frantic maths on her phone, the very universality of her money troubles – it was all oddly charming. casually, he suggested, "so, if money did not matter, what pieces would you most want?" y/n, without hesitation, recited her fantasy wishlist: a team polo, windbreaker, the limited-edition monaco hat, even the official team backpack. she listed the prices both in euros and rupees, not even catching lando's discreetly opening eyes at the sum. "and where are you staying?" he inquired, attempting to be casual. "how long are you in monaco?" y/n, still enthralled by her merchandise fever, replied eagerly, sharing information about her budget hotel and the last few days of her journey. lando listened intently, taking it in. "i'll… uh… i'll see what i can do with those prices," he replied with a small smile, well aware he wasn't going to negotiate with the official merchandise vendor. the next morning, an unassuming van arrived outside of y/n's hotel. a delivery man appeared, holding an enormous, unorthodox-looking package. on the inside, wrapped in tissues, were every item y/n had listed. the monaco cap, team polo, windbreaker, even the backpack. in a side pocket was stuck a tiny note, scribbled in pen: "look at the prices… adjusted ;) - lando." y/n gazed at the box contents, her mouth agape. she couldn't believe it. lando had actually… he'd listened to her rant! she messaged her friends immediately, telling them the tale in wide-eyed wonder, exaggerating the details just a little for dramatic effect. the question now was: what next? would this be an isolated act of kindness, or the start of something bigger? she had no clue, but she couldn't help grinning. this was certainly a vacation to remember.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
tf, why do i like this? dee, this is for you. anyways, i hope you like this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81
i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305
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adviceformefromme · 10 months ago
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GLOW-UP LIKE NEVER BEFORE SERIES
Ladies, we are here. This is the beginning of your glow-up like never before by 2025. We are not sleeping on ourselves in the remaining four months of this year. There is no more putting yourself second, wishing and wanting to be a better version of yourself, because this is your opportunity to show up for you. I will be providing the steps and guidance so stay tuned, its going to be a journey. One that kicks off today. 
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Week 1: CREATING THE VISION
This week is for getting into the energy of how you want to feel come January 2025. The vision should excite you, you want to feel like your wildest dreams are possible and this where you lean into faith, trust and imagination. 
Step 1: On the first page of your new journal script 3 pages in present tense of what your life looks and feels like on January 1st 2025. You want to get into the small details, using all your senses, what you can hear, see, smell, feel, go all in. Write as much as you can to embody the version of you in your highest expression. It might seem crazy to write this, especially in such a short amount of time, but once you start moving correctly timelines can easily be collapsed. I am a walking testimony of this, as I went from sharing a room in the UK to moving into a spacious 2-bed open view apartment overseas, within four weeks. Did I believe? Yes. Had I been doing all the steps I am sharing with you? Yes.  By scripting your life, as crazy and whacky as it may seem you are moving your dreams from thought to reality. A dose of faith is also required for step 1. 
Step 2: Vision board, this is where you get to have fun. Find those images on Pinterest that make you feel ‘omg is this my actual fucking life *screams internally* ‘. Again, no playing small. If you want the G-wagon and you’re driving the Honda, add it to your board, if you’re wanting to write a book, add a New York Times bestseller sticker to your vision board, bring your dreams to life. Save to desktop, screensaver, phone Home Screen. You want to see your vision board at the very least a few times per week. 
Step 3: Write supporting affirmations for your new vision life. I am, I feel, it feels so good to….Lean into the feelings, be creative. As you write your affirmations a minimum of five, you want to record these on your phone and loop them before bed. You can extend these affirmations, and turn it into a rampage - this is where you really speak life into yourself, going into more details. Your recording can be 1 min  - 5 mins. It doesn’t have to be crazy long, the main point is to keep it simple and inspiring. You want to feel inspired when you listen, your own voice, speaking life into your dreams, declaring them. Once you’ve got the recording - LOOP IT. You want this on loop when you’re out on walks this week, when you’re overthinking, but most importantly before you go to bed. Leave it on loop overnight. The goal is to do this every single night for one week. 
Step 4: In the back of your journal in short hand write your 1-3 top goals. It might be earn £10k per month, move into your dream apartment, work for x company. Whatever it is, in very simple words write them, 1-3. And do this EVERY SINGLE DAY. If you skip write it in your phone notes or on the nearest piece of paper. Set a reminder on your phone, because this is such a simple step to manifesting that actually WORKS. 
I know it might seem like some effort to do steps 1-4, but do you want to live the life of your dreams and invest in your expansion and be so proud of who you are come 1st Jan 2025, or do you want to scroll like a cabbage, and watch everyone else live their dream life, and feel like another year, another of unfulfillment ? Your task, put 30mins - 1 hour aside today to do the above. Homework for the rest of the week, read your affirmations, listen to your recording daily before bed and write those goals down! 
Coming next: Week 2: Living by your values + creating space for your dream life… 
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lost-in-beacon-hills · 2 years ago
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Someone has probably already pointed this out but mentoring is hell. When Snow and all the other kids get assigned to being a mentor for the games they all end up falling for their tribute in a way. Or at least most of them do. They develop soft spots for them. Snow falls for Lucy Gray. Lysistrata fell for Jessup. Even Juno shows remorse over Bobbins death. Nearly all these capitol born children find out when mentoring that the kids they watch die are actually people.
At nearly every turn in the ballad of songbirds and snakes you see all capitol born citizens get personally involved with them. And when they inevitably lose them they all become different. It changes who they were. Each of them gets a little more convinced that their kid isn't district. Snow even pushes the idea that Lucy Gray is practically capitol. Within the mentoring they all view their tribute as the exception. The one that doesn't belong to a district. Their tribute is always better or smarter or kinder than the rest. A few of them even get saved by their tribute. The tribute didn't have to do it but they did. So to them they can't possibly be from a district.
Making the victors mentor the children from their own district is fucked in a lot of ways. Every year they are forced to get close to another kid, knowing their families back home are depending on them to do their best to bring them back. They try their damnedest to save them but the odds aren't always in their favor. It takes away the opportunity for their capitol citizens to humanize them while making them isolated on all sides. They don't want the capitol citizens getting too close because if they do then they'll realize these are people. They allow the winners to go home while being the richest in the district. In twelve, we see that everyone is starving while Haymitch is fine. This helps isolate the victors even more.
Who would want to look at their winner when people are dying and they are doing perfectly fine? Who would want to look at the person that didn't bring your child home? They may know the capitol is to blame but the mentor always shares that responsibility in their mind.
It's part of the punishment for the victors too. It's not enough to force them into prostitution and sex slavery. You need more than bodily control over them to keep them broken and beaten down.
The capitol does such a good job at isolating and punishing victors. You're forced to mentor a child every year that you may or may not know. Half of them are already dying or too weak to fight back and yet you are their only chance of survival. You have to be willing to forgive your fellow mentors for the actions of their tributes because they are the only ones who will ever truly know the hell of losing everything. They are the ones that understand the hate from all sides. The victors are hated by the president, their own districts (outside of the career districts but they have their own fucked problems) and by the kids they have to shepard to death.
Snow's games is designed to make them view the other districts as the enemy and for the most part it works. They want the victors to hate each other but by having control over everything else all they are left with is each other. Even if they wanted to hate each other there would be no point. They have no one else. Their games change them. No one back home is able to pick up their pieces.
In bosbas he reflects that all the capitol mentors now are bonded. It's a club with an unbreakable connection. I think he saw how dangerous it was to let their citizens be too close and just how painful it was to do that job. Imagine being one of the few like Haymitch that had 20+ years of failure to haunt them with a district full of children blaming them for the losses.
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fomfarms · 22 days ago
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Any headcanons for Caldarus? Preferably Sfw and NSFW
Been re-watching Gargoyles with a friend, so I believe I am fully in the correct mind set to ask the questions about dating the dragon
LET'S GO!
honestly, he has a few love languages
for gift giving it's usually a lot of flowers and other rare finds from nature
occasionally he will try to cook for you
it's pretty bad...
he'll also attempt to write you poetry
it's also pretty bad, but better than the cooking
he also loves quality time with you
so a shared meal, a task completed together
or even just a moment of your company
he treasures it all equally
he especially loves when you're with him while he plays
the first few times he didn't even notice you were there, and was embarrassed when he did see you
but knowing how much you enjoy it too, and knowing how nice it is to have someone at his side when he's feeling--- a deep and complex stew of emotions he doesn't fully understand...
tries his best to learn more human customs to woo you with
hence the flowers and poetry
loves loves LOVES when you cook for him
he LOVES human food, but he's very lost on cooking, so getting a home cooked meal that isn't burnt is so wonderful to him
in general he has a very slow pace about life, he's lived so long, and spent the last bit of it trapped in stone-- him taking everything in, and letting the world pass him by... it's a mix of him fully enjoying the world around him, and old habits dying hard
no matter what we learn moving forward, I have a feeling Caldarus, left to his own devices, is not much of a fighter
he seems more of a milder spirit
not fully an artist per say, but DEFINITELY artistic
really wants you to play with/braid/brush/care for his hair, but doesn't know how to ask...
likes when you read to him, if you're so inclined
loves to have you in idle contact with him when you're keeping him company
a head on his shoulder
a hand in his
someone's head, lying peacefully on the other's lap
talks to animals out in the woods, especially birds
they don't usually talk back, but that's okay, he's been shy before too
stares pensively into the distance, thoughts and foggy memories storming in his head as he tries once more to piece together his forgotten past at least once a day
sometimes twice if the mood strikes him
ns/fw under cut
doesn't want to hurt or overwhelm you
but also tends to engulf you physically when things get more passionate
it's not aggressive, it's actually, usually, quite tender
usually
but he can't seem to help himself
one touch, one caress, one warm exciting reminder that you're really here, and so is he, and he can touch you and hold you and feel you
he just gets a bit overwhelmed by it all
VERY tender
VERY gentle
VERY sentimental
also a little bit overcome by desire, but it's fine
melts at your affections
doesn't even try to help it
a touch, a kiss, a sweet word whispered in his ear, and this whole ass dragon is putty in your hands
may or may not purr
definitely will moan and whimper tho
can/will mark you up a bit, usually on accident unless you ask for it
lots of little love bites and accidental scratches
doesn't think about it much, but he's definitely a switch
sometimes right in the middle of things
doesn't think on it often, but he does like to be teased
well, okay, maybe teased isn't the word
he likes things to be warmed up slowly, lots of taking each other all in, prolonged foreplay
not for teasing reasons, at least on his part, but because that build up from sensual sentimentalism, into over flowing desires is the best part for him
def not a fan of quickies
likes to take his time with you, as long as he can
definitely doesn't let you leave right away
you are a dragon's mate, trapped in the warm safety of his nest (aka, all them blankies)
and he intends to enjoy this time together with you as long as you will stay in this bed with him
definitely the affectionate type in every way of the relationship
also loves the scent of you on his sheets after you leave
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natashasvixen · 8 months ago
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Bunny love
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Summary: As much as she may try to hide it from her Rio knows that Agatha gets lonely when she has to “work” and while away she finds what she hopes may be the perfect companion for her wife.
Tags: Pure fluff, married Agathario, soft Rio, soft Agatha, baby Señor Scratchy, pet names (mi amor, angel) , pre Agatha all along?
💢Spoilers if you don’t know Rio’s identity yet💢
Author’s note: Hi hello, I genuinely don’t remember the last time I wrote anything but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I just love them so much, we aren’t going to talk about how much research I did into rabbit breeds being introduced to which countries and in which years, it’s embarrassing…. Enjoy!
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Scotland 1953
It was late into the night, maybe even early morning judging by the pitch blackness outside the windows as Agatha sat next to the fireplace she’d been tending with a blanket thrown over her lap and one of her many spell books balanced neatly on the arm of the couch. The Scottish winters were harsh but the little cottage nestled away in the highlands that her and Rio shared fared well and it was more than worth it for the beauty of the landscape that surrounded their home. Here she and her wife almost felt closer to their witch roots than even that of being back in Salem and Agatha certainly didn’t miss the reminders of her Mother and Coven everywhere she looked, here in the forest surrounded by only nature she knew they were safe to live their life together, not having to hide their magic or their love for one another.
With a slight sigh Agatha pulled herself out of her little daydream and focused her eyes back on the pages of the book in front of her, her head was starting to hurt from the jumble of Latin and other languages, Agatha reached forward for the piece of paper she was jotting down notes on, grabbed her pen and wrote down a few more things that could be of help for the spell she was trying to create, Rio said she was mad trying to make a child of magic that would be both of theirs equally but Agatha would go to the ends of the earth to make it true, she wanted nothing more than a family with the love of her life and deep down she knew Rio wanted it too, she didn’t care if it was against the laws of magic to do so and for hours upon end every day she would read every spell book and grimoire cover to cover trying to find all the answers and incantations she may need to finally make her and Rio’s dream a reality.
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The Netherlands (somewhere)
To be perfectly honest Rio wasn’t sure where she was, the Netherlands that’s for sure but she’s not sure which city she is on the outskirts of, you’d think after hundreds of years of transporting souls of the dead to their final resting place all over the world she would be better at her geographical knowledge but it wasn’t really important when you always had the same destination to reach in the end. It had been a tiring trip, yes she was death personified but that didn’t mean what she had to do got any easier over the years, this time it had been a young family and while at least they could stay together it still drained her to think of the life they could have had. Gently she lowered herself to sit on a frosted log and took a moment to collect herself before heading home to her beloved. As Rio rested her head in her hands she heard a faint rustling in front of her, she narrowed her eyes and looked forward, faintly bringing her green magic to the surface, even now the memories of the witch trials hung over her head and she was always ready to protect herself if need be.
Much to Rio’s amusement a small rabbit emerged from the undergrowth, “wow lady death being spooked by a bunny rabbit that’s a new low” she mused to herself as she watched the rabbit tentatively move closer to her. “Well you certainly aren’t meant to be out here, you’re definitely not a wild rabbit” Rio spoke to the small creature slowly lowering her hand out for the bunny to sniff, the little thing was as far from a wild rabbit as you could get, bright white with speckles of light orange and black spots and the floppiest ears you’ve ever seen also far too tiny to be out wandering alone.
Being a green witch and yet also lady death was a confusing combination for nature to comprehend sometimes, Rio was drawn to nature and it often returned the same feeling towards her, that included the living beings that inhabited its world and this baby rabbit seemed no different, hopping over after a quick sniff of her hand and settling down under Rio’s cloak to shield itself from the cold breeze that washed over the countryside, she chuckled at its actions and flicked her wrist, her green magic making some dandelions sprout from the icy ground which the rabbit happily munched on.
As the witch watched the small rabbit eat she pondered to herself, “can’t exactly leave you out here can I? And Agatha has been going on about getting a familiar” the tiny ball of fluff stood up on its back legs resting its front feet on the side of Rio’s leg barely reaching above her boot and looking at her intently. Rio smiled to herself and scooped the rabbit into her arms who settled down instantly into the warmth, “she’s going to say I’ve gone soft” she scoffed to herself as she prepared to transport herself and her new little companion home.
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Agatha’s research for the night was becoming increasingly exhausting and she knew she should have been in bed hours ago, this was made abundantly clear when she felt the familiar pull of her wife’s magic that was so intertwined with her own she knew when she was close, meaning she was in fact home from helping another soul pass on through the veil.
Rio always transported herself home outside of their cottage when she was late not wanting to wake her wife from her slumber however as soon as she found herself on the snow dusted doorstep of their home she could feel Agatha’s magic humming with life and clearly not sleeping, gently tucking the little bundle of fluff she was carrying further into her cloak both to keep him warm and hidden so she could surprise her lover she gently eased the wooden door open and slipped inside quickly to not let the heat of the fire out.
Slipping off her boots and easing down the hood of her green cloak she moved her way into the living area where she saw her wife smiling tiredly at her from her comfy position on the couch, “mi amor what are you still doing awake” Rio asked quietly as she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Just doing some more research” Agatha sighed, motioning to the still open spell book, “I didn’t realise the time, how was your trip angel?” She questioned softly. Rio scoffed as she always did at the pet name Agatha had bestowed upon her all those years ago when they met for the first time, quite fitting being called an angel when she was literally death itself. “Tiring” she mumbled leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her wife’s head, as she did Agatha noticed movement beneath Rio’s cloak and a quick hiss came from her wife’s mouth, Agatha noted that she still had one arm tucked away behind the fabric. She tilted her head quizzically at the green witch, “what are you hiding from me?” She questioned reaching to grab at her cloak, “ah ah ah” Rio tutted, pulling away, “it’s a surprise” she said, holding up her other hand to wave a finger at her wife mockingly.
“Oh come on Ri you know I hate surprises” Agatha said getting up on her knees to try get a better look over the back of the couch at what her wife was concealing underneath her cloak. Rio rounded the couch and Agatha turned to follow her movements now sitting crossed legged as Rio stood in front of her with both her arms now tucked back inside her cloak, “you’re going to make fun of me” the green witch said as she became uncharacteristically shy and turned her body slightly away.
“Well that depends what it is but I promise I’ll try not to tease” Agatha said with a smirk reaching her hand out to beckon Rio closer to her.
Now Rio stood right in front of Agatha and the purple witch gently took hold of the arm that her wife had been hiding and noticed that there were scratch marks, “you think I’m going to make fun of you for getting scratched?” Agatha questioned looking confused “why haven’t you healed it these are hardly anything” right as she finished her sentence from Rio’s other arm and behind the fabric of her cloak hopped the tiny bunny landing straight in Agatha’s lap. “Well now you’ve ruined the surprise” Rio glared at the bunny making Agatha burst out laughing.
Rio pouted and crossed her arms over her chest “told you you’d make fun of me” she whined. Agatha’s laughter died down wiping a tear from her eye as she looked up at her wife who looked like an annoyed child, “I’m not making fun of you love he just took me by surprise” she giggled as she pulled her wife to sit next to her and started to pet the bunny who sat happily in her lap like nothing had happened, “and what pray tell made you take me home a sweet baby bunny?” She asked leaning over to press a kiss to Rio’s cheek.
Rio sighed leaning into her wife’s side, “well you haven’t let up about wanting a familiar recently and besides he found me not the other way around” she smiled reaching over to boop the bunny’s nose.
Agatha looked down lovingly at the bunny as she continued to pet him, “I was thinking more black cat or raven you know but hmmm I think I can train him up to be a scary bunny” Agatha cooed as she snuggled the bunny under her chin, not long after he kicked off his back feet jumping onto Agatha’s lap before further hopping down to the floor and flopping himself in front of the fireplace leaving Agatha with matching scratches on her arms, “te veo señor” Rio laughed and her and Agatha fell into each other giggling at the rabbits antics, “scratchy little thing” Agatha said examining her and her wife’s arms before looking back at the rabbit clearly making himself at home, “that’s what I’ll call you” she said placing a kiss to that back of Rio’s hand, “Señor Scratchy” she said looking into her wife’s eyes “thank you my angel” she said softly before leaning in and connecting their lips in a soft kiss, when they parted Rio started placing kisses on Agatha’s arm, “now let me fix the little devil’s marks” she smirked at her wife before starting to gently lick at the superficial wounds, “I missed you amor” she sighed against her skin, “I missed you too angel” Agatha said gently kissing her wife’s head.
Their perfect little family was almost complete.
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littlemissstel · 9 months ago
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Hi! Your Shiu pieces are so lovely - he doesn’t get enough fluff or, ya know, stories in general.
May I please request a story of him attempting to quit smoking because the woman he is into doesn’t want to date a smoker?
Feel free to ignore this, if the idea is not interesting to you 🫶🏻
Lollipops and Smoke- Shiu Kong
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Helloo!! Thank you for the kind words<3
IKRR the amount (well lack of) of Shiu media is actually outrageous, he's the reason i started this blog😭Hopefully this is on par with what you were thinking of Xx
Pre-relationship, swearing, uses of the names "bastard", "minx", "Doll", "Sweetheart", "Darling", no uses of (Y/n),mentions of drug use
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It is past midnight now and you were in Shiu's car as he drove you home after a long day of dealing with clients. The two of you have engaged in what seems like a thousand different conversations on the way there, but he's not quite sure how you landed in this one...
"You're really not going to tell me?"
"I'm not sure what you mean Doll. There is nothing to tell."
"Shiu. Let's be honest for a second here. There's no way you've only done cigarettes throughout your life. With the things you've told me about your youth, you had to of been high at least once."
Shiu holds in a chuckle, shaking his head with a wide smile at your deadpan expression.
The truth is you were right. He was a seasoned connoisseur in the field of substances thanks to his party days and he does conveniently forget to tell you the part were he puffed, sniffed or drank in his stories of nostalgia. When he first started out in the job, he had to entertain clients by sharing a drink/drag or two, though that was never something he found enjoyable and has since promoted out of it.
It's not that Shiu was regretful about his past experiences, no, He just wasn't proud of them either. He had great times which made for great memories but he knows what kind of impression they can give off and for someone like you- for someone he is trying to impress- he believes some memories are better left unsaid.
"I'm really not as old as you think i am. This is my youth-"
"Yeah right-"
"Enough about me. You're real fuckin' nosey you know that? What drugs have you done, Sweetheart?" He sends you a playful glare through the mirror.
"Paracetamol and Ibuprofen."
This earns a deep laugh out of Shiu, something that has become more frequent during your time with him yet you still take the moment to properly intake the resonant sound.
"I did have a boyfriend who was into a few things though. It didn't last very long."
"Was he trouble?"
"No, he was sweet, but i just don't think i could be with someone who does anything, you know..."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing. No vapes or cigs. Nothing that lingers."
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What you said lingered in Shiu's mind. Long, long after the fact. He was somewhat surprised, you never seemed to have a problem when he smoked around you - then again he tried to limit the amount of times that happened. Then again he might be wrong and you just don't like him back.
But he liked you.
He liked you enough to go against his better judgement of pursuing you- no matter how selfish it may have been, and so he liked you enough to finally start his mid-year resolution to put down the cigarettes. That night he laid covert in the darkness of his bedroom, scrolling through an endless amount of forums from ex-smokers and ordering an unjustifiable amount of lollipops, gum and nicotine patches.
Shiu had always been the number one user of the saying, "I can quit when i want" and part of that was true...he could quit when he wanted. It didn't mean he wanted to struggle when he did though. His job was stressful and the only method of relaxation he could find that fit into his busy schedule was smoking. Now he just had to experiment...
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Throughout the next few weeks you noticed a few changes in Shiu.
First, he seemed irritable.
Not to you- to you he was just quieter than usual- but Toji had been the one informing you that Shiu had "A stick shoved up his ass for the entire week", though this was after discussing how they were going to split the shares of his commission which meant the statement was untrustworthy.
Secondly, he was less focused and increasingly restless, which drew the most concern from you because Shiu was always well managed. It was one of the first things you learnt about him and he hasn't faltered since so when he started to zone out and tap against the steering wheel to an inconsistent beat you only became more skeptical.
But your last and final straw...was his sweet tooth.
The ravenette was a chronic enjoyer of savoury foods. You had seen him nursing a lolli' in his mouth consistently for the past few days, sure. But when a multi-pack of 300 lollipops sat discarded in the backseat of his car you knew something was up.
"What is going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's going on with you?"
His brows furrowed as he spared you a quick glance.
"What do you mean, darling? I've been fine."
"You've been acting weird...First toji says you've been irritated all week but now you've got a sweet tooth and a thousand lollipops in your backseat. I know you don't have a kid Shiu. Unless you're about to tell me you're going to kidnap one."
"I am not going to kidnap anyone."
"Then are you okay?"
The car stops at the red light and Shiu sighs weakly, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression.
"I've quit smoking. Trying to replace it with something better. I like lollipops."
Your mouth droops into an "o" expression. Well that makes sense, you hadn't thought about it but why would you? It seems a bit abrupt, no? Most people ease out of smoking and you haven't seen him hold a cigarette in...well...a long time.
"Why- i mean, no congratulations- but- how long has it been since you stopped?"
"Three weeks give or take"
"Oh..."
The car filled with a thick silence only disturbed with the low rumbles of the engine. You're not quite sure what to say. What is there to say? He sounds pretty decided and you fully support his decision but- oh...You can't help the feeling of guilt that washes over you.
"It isn't to do with what i said is it?..." Shiu's hand grips the wheel harder for a quarter of a second as he turns to you to speak- but you noticed, and you felt your stomach twist for the second time in a minute.
"Shiu- you know i didn't mean that about you, i really didn't mean to offend-"
"-You didn't offend me doll, now calm down before you work yourself up, hm?"He says, a smirk creeping up on his face and you take his advice, settling back down in your chair waiting expectantly.
"I've been meaning to quit for a while now`, just never had a good enough reason to do it. Now i know you prefer the company of non-smokers, i finally got the motivation to."
What does that mean?
"I didn't mind your company before you know."
"Oh trust me, i know." His smirk now fully progressed as his attention undividedly turned on you. The most focused he's been in weeks. His dark hazelnut eyes bore into yours leaving you feeling exposed- so exposed. You believed him. His confidence, true or not, left little room for doubt and now you wondered what else he knew.
Don't embarrass yourself.
You leaned in, trying to keep a hold of what little control you had as he matched your stance.
"You're back to being a smug bastard aren't you."
"Never stopped."
"Then why don't you enlighten me on what else you know?"
Shiu's breath hitched before letting out a short, incredulous laugh, leaning back in his chair with his head tossed back.
"Green light, minx." He says finally.
After all, Shiu Kong believes some things are better left unsaid.
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I am open to constructive criticism but be nice because I'm sensitive asf 💀 Thank you for sending this request in, i really enjoyed it
please feel free to leave any ideas/recommendations
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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago
Text
Sulk
Clive Rosfield x female reader, commissioned piece
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For the lovely @kianaflame23. Thank you for commissioning me again and letting me share it here with everyone too!❤️ -
“I swear I feel better today, Tarja.” You stress, desperate to be reprieved of bedrest at last. You’ve been in the infirmary three days now, watching enviously as others come and go after being treated for their ailments. “And I promise I won’t do anything considered even remotely taxing for days to come.”
There is more to your request than just boredom, though, not that you would dare admit it aloud. Clive is meant to be returning soon and you wanted to gather some flowers from the Backyard to leave in his chambers – plucking flowers could hardly count laborious – a tradition you’d started after admiring his wall of memories, wanting to contribute. It’s the least you can do after giving him an awful fright the night before his unexpected departure.
You thought it was just fatigue from the last few days of toiling in the Backyard - trying to get another batch of crops planted in as the numbers of the Hideaway continued to grow – was the reason why you felt out of breath as you climbed to the upper deck. You often retreated there in the evenings, finding it a peaceful place to count your blessings and collect your thoughts. It had turned out Clive was fond of the same thing and so finding him leaning over the railings that night, the breeze off the lake ruffling his hair had been quite the welcome sight.
He'd turned to face you when he heard your approaching footsteps and smiled softly as when your eyes met at the top of the stairs. “Ah, just the face I was hoping to see.”
You felt heat prickle across your cheeks at his comment and took a step forward.
Only to faint.
You’d hazily came to in his arms, somewhere in between asleep and awake, face pressed up against his chest as he hurried you to the infirmary, calling out Tarja’s name in fear.
“Put her down here and tell me exactly what happened.”
“I… I don’t know,” Clive’s voice rumbled against your cheek before he placed you down in the all too familiar infirmary bed. “We were on the upper deck – she barely took a step towards me when she collapsed.”
“Did she hit her head?”
“No. No, I… I used the Blessing of the Phoenix to quicken my movements so I caught her before she could do herself injury.”
“Good.” Tarja presses her hand against your forehead and curses, pulling it back as quickly as she had placed it there. “She’s burning up. I’ve told her time and time again she needs to be careful not to overexert herself. Keep an eye on her whilst I prepare a tonic.”
Tarja had rushed over to her desk as Clive crouched down besides you, taking your hand in his in a moment of weakness, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Please be all right, my darling one.” He’d whispered.
You desperately wanted to open your eyes, question his affectionate term, assure him that you were fine – no matter how much of a lie it may have been – but it was too difficult.
The rest of the night had passed in a feverish blur, a vague memory of a firm arm around your waist at some point pulling you upright, back pressed up against a chest that smelt of smoke and sandalwood, as Tarja forced a tonic in your mouth. You’d woken properly late morning, dismayed to find Clive had gone ashore on an urgent matter and had left word that he wished you a swift recovery.
“Hmm,” Tarja mulls, bringing you back to the present, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead for a few moments before making a decision. “No, not yet. You are still a little feverish for my liking. Besides, I know you’ll be straight back down to the Backyard as soon as I discharge you.” She knows you far too well.
You pout. “But I don’t even feel hot anymore.”
Tarja purses her lips together in thought, seemingly running through scenarios and treatments in her head. “No, I think best keep you here until the fever has definitely and completely cleared. I’ll prepare another tonic.”
You grimace at the idea of it – if it’s the one you’re thinking of it has a foul taste that lingers on your tongue for hours.
The door to the infirmary opens and over Tarja’s shoulder you see a familiar blonde being coaxed in by Jote, catching the tail-end of the conversation and wishing to take advantage. Your paths had crossed many times within the walls of the infirmary since Joshua had joined the Hideaway, resulting in the two of you becoming fast friends and making fine company for one another.
“Jote, it seems Lady Tarja is already quite preoccupied, mayhaps we should return later and-”
“I am quite capable of handling more than one patient at a time, Joshua.” Tarja’s tone is biting as she walks over to her desk, searching her notes to check on the last tonic you were given. “Do make yourself comfortable and I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Joshua sighs as Jote leads him to the bed besides your own, watching him like a hawk as he sits down heavily upon it, accepting his fate. He gives you a warm smile as he settles back against the pillows.
“And how do you fare this morning, my lady?”
“Good! Though still feverish, apparently.” You smile, wearily. “How are you?” “Oh, I’m fine, really.” He shrugs, though you can tell Jote is biting her tongue. “I apologise I have not been to visit since before now - I’m afraid I got caught up in research.” “Your Grace, this is hardly a visit. His cough has worsened again over night.” Jote corrects.
Joshua rolls his eyes, causing you to giggle before your head swims with a dizzy spell and you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to dissuade the feeling.
“What is it?” Joshua’s voice is laced with concern and you feel his hand take yours, squeezing it.
“Dizzy.” You sigh. “It’ll pass.”
Joshua doesn’t believe so, calling out for the healer. “Lady Tarja-“
“Lie down, deep breaths.” You hear Tarja call, still at her desk. You shuffle down on the bed until you’re lying flat. “Don’t excite her, Joshua. You should know that by now.”
“My apologies.”
“No, it’s my fault.” You squeeze his hand back, turning your head to offer a weak smile. “I am glad to have your company though, Joshua, selfish as it might be.”
--
Clive hovers at the infirmary door, a bouquet of flower stems tight in his grip. He’d returned only moments ago – Obolus had set sail at dawn to pick him up from the abandoned docks at Audyll. As he’d waited for the skiff to appear on the horizon, he’d picked a selection of wildflowers from the cliffs as a gift, ones he hadn’t seen in the Backyard, and had set off to the infirmary immediately after hearing word that you were still there.
There and… holding Joshua’s hand?
Well, then.
Joshua had always been charming – blue-eyed, blonde hair, a boyish grin. He’s tried his best to not be jealous ever since the day the Phoenix had instead chosen the younger Rosfield. It wasn’t Joshua’s fault after all. He hadn’t had a say in the matter, just an unbelievably heavy burden thrust upon his shoulders. Instead of being envious, Clive had vowed to support him, to do everything he could to help his beloved brother carry the responsibility. But seeing the two of you together, especially so suddenly, has broken through the barriers. Clive’s feelings had grown steadily for you over the years since you’d came to the Hideaway. You were sweet, kind-natured to everyone around you, trying to do your best to help no matter the task. It was infectious the way even the slightest smile from you left him with one upon his face for days after, no matter what other trials he came up against.
He had been loathed to leave your side in the infirmary after you’d fainted, staying there the whole night. It had smarted even more so to leave the Hideaway altogether before you had woken. Unfortunately, he was the only man for the job and had left on Obolus’s skiff the next morning – promising himself he wouldn’t let the moment slip him by again, that he’d confess upon his return, bouquet of wildflowers in hand.
All for naught, as he sees the Phoenix brush your hair out of your face, a caress of your cheek.
His vision seethes with red, the smell of smoke fills the air, before he strides off towards his chambers with false purpose, letting his gift fall to the ground.
Jill frowns when she finds the wildflowers scattered on the wooden boards a few moments later, the stems singed black. She only has to look through the gap in the doorway to see Joshua at your bedside and put the pieces together.
“Oh, Clive…”
--
Two more days pass confined to the infirmary bed before you saw Clive, despite hearing that he’d returned. At least you had Joshua for company - his cough had grown more harsh and painful at first, despite his protests otherwise, and Tarja and Jote had him drinking a concoction of suppressants and tonics every few hours to try and soothe his ailments to some degree of success.
Not the same could be said for the poor Bearers who had been brought in by Cursebreakers on the skiff that morning. Two of them already suffering from the curse, stone-mottled limbs, groaning in their cots the other side of the curtain.
“Is there truly nothing to be done?” Clive asked Tarja in a hushed tone. He hadn’t said hello to you when he entered earlier, nor to Joshua. It had smarted a little, you’ll admit, but you’d brushed it off as him having much more urgent matters at hand.
“I’m all out of the main ingredient for the most effective pain relief, unfortunately. I’ve had the Cursebreakers keeping an eye out for it, but it might have become a victim to the blight.”
“What’s the main ingredient?”
“Begonias – red ones. There used to be an ample supply in the Royal Meadows, but they haven’t sprouted this year.”
“I can’t remember seeing them on my travels either.”
“I…” You speak up, sitting up a little straighter in the bed. “I think I know where some might still flourish.”
Tarja and Clive’s heads snap round look at you. “Really?” Tarja takes a step forward. “Could you mark it on a map?”
You shake your head. “It’s not on any sort of track you can follow, but that’s pretty much all of the Great Wood. You need to know exactly where to look. I fear I would not be able to describe it…” You bite your lip in hesitation before continuing. “But I am positive I could find them if I went myself.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Clive folds his arms, looking over to Tarja for her support. Surely with your fragile health she’d agree. “I forbid it.”
Tarja pinches the bridge of her nose before she speaks, weighing up the options in her head. “I would normally say the same, Clive, but if we were able to get hold of some of these blooms, not only could we provide some much sought after relief, perhaps then we’d also be able to grow some of our own in the Backyard for future use.”
“You cannot be serious. It’s not safe for her to go there alone.”
“She won’t be alone, I’ll ask Otto to spare some Cursebreakers.”
“No.” Clive’s tone is firm. “Anything could happen. Besides, you’ve had her on bedrest for near a tenday, she is not ready to go gallivanting about the Great Wood - the place will be rife with fiends!”
“Then why don’t you accompany her, brother?” Joshua speaks up with a grin.
“Me?” Clive turns to Joshua, eyes wide, as if he had forgotten his brother was here at all.
“Yes, you.” Tarja places her hands on her hips in agreement. “The First Shield to the Phoenix, are you not?”
“Yes, but-”
“Then you will prove a most suitable escort.”
“Tarja, I really-”
Joshua grins. “The finest.”
“Joshua-“
Another heart-wrenching groan comes from the other side of the curtain.
“Please, Clive.” You grip the blanket between your fingers, tightly. “You have to let me try.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it would be worth it.” Tarja adds in support.
Clive clenches his fists, mulling it over in his mind. He’d rather scour the entire Great Wood on his own than risk your wellbeing, but Founder knows how long that would take. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“And you will tell me the moment if you start to feel unwell?”
You can’t help but smile at his concern. “I promise.”
Clive sighs, still not exactly pleased with the arrangement, but admitting defeat. “Fine. We’ll leave in the morning. But be sure to rest until then, my lady. Please.”
“Of course she will,” Tarja interrupts before you can agree. “She’ll stay in the infirmary again tonight to be certain of it.”
--
The next morning, you make your way down to the dock, accompanied by Joshua who insisted he be allowed to at least stretch his legs after going the whole night without a cough.
“Now, then,” he murmurs as he walks alongside you. “The Great Wood will be as good a place as any, and if you do not tell him, then I will be forced to.”
“Joshua-”
“And I won’t hear otherwise.”
As you reach the end of the dock, Clive is stood waiting, arms crossed and looking entirely unamused.
“Be safe, you two.” Joshua takes your hand and kisses it, before throwing you a wink that makes you bite back a laugh.
Ahead of you, Clive storms onto the boat.
The idea of a trip to the mainland was exciting – it had been years now since you’d been. It was too risky to go with the Brand on your cheek when the Cursebreakers could move around freely.
You would’ve been excited if the boat ride across hadn’t been so awkward. Clive had sat the entire time with his arms crossed, legs spread, and looking in any direction possible but yours. He still wasn’t happy with you joining him and you felt awful - you’d never wanted to be a burden on anyone.
“Stay by my side at all times.” He commands as you finally enter the Great Wood. It’s a little more overgrown than you remembered, but you do recognize certain trees from your wanderings.
“Of course.” You nod. He can’t help but soften his tone as he sees the delight in your eyes at being back within the Great Wood – it must’ve been years. “Do you recall which way to go?” “Mm.” You point to south, through a thicket. “That way, I’m sure of it.”
The walk there is quiet, besides Clive hacking a path clear with his sword as you remember the way. It isn’t long before you finally emerge through another thicket and find a grove below filled with red begonias, nearly as far as the eye can see.
You smile at the sight, looking back over your shoulder. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Mm. Very.”   You fail to notice he wasn’t looking at the blooms.
You turn your attention back to the ground and the drop before you, not feeling confident at all with idea of jumping down. “There used to be an incline, but maybe it’s washed away with the rains. Maybe if we walk round we’ll find another route down?”
“I have an idea.” Clive hops down with ease, being sure to land in a patch that is clear of flowers. “I can lift you down, if you’d permit me.”
You nod, suddenly feeling shy. “How do I…?”
“Place your hands on my shoulders and I’ll…” He trails off as you follow his instructions, wrapping his arms around your hips to lift you down. He doesn’t know why he does it - there was certainly no need to - but he takes an unsteady step back, losing his footing and the two of you crash down to the ground with a thud.
“By the Founder…! Did I hurt you?” Clive asks, his brow furrowed in concern despite the fact you are still firmly wrapped in his arms, his body having cushioned the fall entirely.
“I’m fine, Clive,” you reply, tantalizingly close to his lips. You could just…
“Are you sure?”
And all the sudden you’re kissing him.
For a moment he kisses back – it’s soft, sweet and chaste, as Clive always is - before he pulls back and sits up in a hurry, looking as red as the blooms that surround you. “No, I’m sorry. We can’t, I can’t. Not to Joshua.”
“Joshua?” You look puzzled.
“I saw you two – the morning I came back. You were holding his hand in the infirmary.”
Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously at the accusation. “Holding his…? No, not like that. Of course I care for Joshua, but no more than I do a good friend.”
“But on the dock, he…”, Clive swallows, feeling childish. “He winked at you.”
“An inside joke.” You protest. “He… Well, he hoped that I might find the courage to confess to you, whilst we were away from the eyes of the Hideaway.”
“Confess?”
“My…” You try and shy away then, head down, but his arms are still wrapped firmly around your waist and keeping you in place, “..feelings for you.”
One arm loosens, a gloved hand cupping your chin to tilt your face back up to him.
“I cannot tell you how long I have hoped to hear those words from your lips, my darling.”
You feel dizzy as you press your lips back against his, but in an entirely good way.
--- Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi
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honey-beann · 1 year ago
Text
Good for Sharing
Nines x Reader Angst
Note: This fic is based upon the poems mentioned within this ask, and is pretty heavily steeped in angst (though I was sure to end it on a more hopeful note this time). I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 3,133
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It was the first of the month, and your fingers pulled deftly at the small segments of the orange, shredding the paper-thin flesh with a practiced ease that Nines couldn't quite comprehend.
Your hands were gentle yet confident, your nails never once piercing the delicate surface of the fruit that you held so loosely between your fingertips and palms.
You smiled up at him softly, your eyes shining with a quiet and peaceful type of joy that remained entirely unknown to the android sitting across from you.
It was mid afternoon, and the two of you sat outside in the warm sunlight at your insistence.
"If we have to do this."
You'd said,
"We should at least have a little fun with it, don't you think?"
Nines did not think.
But he did nod.
And from there, you had guided him outside of the large compound that housed your office and out to the greenery below, where small purple flowers had begun to sprout out of the ground now that the rainy season was over.
Distantly, Nines could hear water dribbling out of a culvert not too far from where the two of you were sitting atop a stone step that stemmed from the pathway, and he was reminded of the garden that lay somewhere in the depths of his mind, and the voice that had taught him everything that he'd known.
That was why he was here.
To unlearn.
Once the revolution had ended, most androids, after having deviated, went on to live normal lives filled with that feeble sense of accomplishment that all biological beings seemed to strive for.
But Nines was unable to do so.
Something gripped him even still, from deep within, pulling him away from whatever emulated humanity his "freed" brethren had achieved.
He had deviated, but he was still so stuck.
There was still a harsh layer of programming that seemed to dictate his very personality and being, and it permeated every sense of self that he was apparently supposed to have.
Sometimes, it confused him, the fact that he could not quite relate to those around him who had been so eager in their expression and so capable of thinking with their "hearts" rather than their minds.
Other times, it just frightened him.
He would never admit it aloud, but one of very few emotions he had felt since his awakening was fear.
Fear for what he was and what was wrong with him, fear over whether or not it was possible for him to change, and above all else, fear of what it may have felt like to feel in that same way that everyone else did.
What was it like to hope and express so simply? To grieve or hurt?
Was it worth moving forward if there was no going back?
In the end, Markus had answered that for him with his new "support resources".
It appeared that for many androids who were in some ways like Nines, built for violence and without that integral ability to connect with others,
Deviancy did not fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.
So now, he and many other androids all over America saw people like you.
Trained in a skill that he could not comprehend, and meant to be closer to a friend than a therapist, he was supposed to see you on the first and the fourteenth of each month, and somehow, you were supposed to teach him that evasive art of emotion, of humanity.
He was unsure of how anyone could do this, but, out of curiosity more than anything else, had agreed nonetheless.
At worst, he would meet a new face. Being a deviant who was not in touch with his own emotions made for a boring life. The more people he could introduce into it to give him something new to focus on, the better.
So here he was
Sitting outside with a near stranger as you peeled your orange across from him, offering him that kind smile as if you had it in infinite supply and were required to get rid of some stock.
The birds were chirping, and the water was running, and the day was as peaceful as could be.
But Nines never much cared for the silence, so he spoke through it.
"What made you take this job?"
He asked curiously, watching as your hands ceased movement for the briefest of moments, as if your thoughts had required just a twinge more focus for a second or two, before you answered.
"I like making friends."
You said simply, and Nines rose a brow at that, but did not say anything more. He did not truly see the value of friends. Sure, he found people to be entertaining, but there was a tiresome quality to being viewed that he did not enjoy nearly enough for it to be worth building strong relationships.
So instead of commenting, the android simply nodded, as if he understood.
He could see in your eyes though, still alight with amusement, that you knew he did not.
You were silent for a few more moments as you wedged your finger between the two halves of the orange, splitting it in twain before you began removing the silky white film from the dual outsides.
Finally though, after it seemed that the part requiring your attention had passed, you brought your gaze back up to Nines.
"What made you accept this opportunity?"
The android was surprised to hear your question, but in the end decided to be honest. There was no sake in lying, not if he truly wished to learn anything.
"I was curious."
He said simply, and you nodded before inspecting both halves of the fruit in front of you, smiling with what appeared to be satisfaction.
It intrigued Nines to see you so appeased by something as simple as an orange, but before he could ask about it and your obvious contentedness, you reached out and offered him a freshly peeled half.
Nines stared at it for a few moments before his gaze moved back up to yours.
He rose a brow.
"What for?"
He asked, unmoving despite knowing that you wished for him to take it.
"You."
You replied simply, smile never wavering, even as he still didn't move to take the fruit from your hand.
"I can't eat it."
He stated matter of factly, but to that, you just nodded.
"I know. But it's still for you."
At that, Nines grew even more confused than he already was, but, intrigued about where you could be going with this, reached out and took the orange, feeling its soft flesh squish beneath the sturdy pads of his fingertips, his grip too strong, as if he weren't made to hold onto something so easily crushed.
And, to be fair, he wasn't.
Even still, if you were at all upset by the way the orange half was almost instantly disfigured within his palm, you didn't show it, simply choosing to slowly peel a segment of your own orange away from the large section you were holding in your hand before popping it into your waiting mouth.
Nines spoke again.
"Why an orange?"
He asked, watching as you shrugged your shoulders casually, swallowing your bite of the slightly tart fruit before you replied,
"My sister and I always used to split them. They're good for sharing."
Nines rose a brow at that,
"Only for sharing?"
You nodded,
"I think so. At least that's what my sister and I always said. I would peel it because she could never figure out how to on her own, and she would eat half to leave me with just the perfect amount."
Nines nodded, as if in understanding, and perhaps, some small part of him was honest in that.
"But I can't eat it."
He said simply, causing you to smile once more,
"That doesn't matter, you can still smell it can't you? Feel it? Either way, you'd better learn how to enjoy it, because it's yours."
Nines hummed in response to your words, watching as you finished your half of the orange before sighing blissfully and moving to lay yourself down atop the grass.
He stayed on the concrete path, but watched without judgement or disdain for your playful actions.
He didn't understand you, but a part of him liked that. It made you equals.
He left that day with your name locked into his calendar for the fourteenth of the month.
Because maybe there was something to sharing an orange with you.
When he returned later that month, you'd had another orange to share with him, and to his surprise, another for him to peel himself.
"To practice."
You'd said as you presented it to him shortly before you started peeling your own, the afternoon sun warm on your face and back as it shone down from above.
Nines had watched you for a few moments, noting the way that you used your thumb to pierce the firm rind of the fruit just enough to break the seal, but never enough to stab the sweet citrus inside.
He tried to do the same, but instantly, his thumb plunged directly into the center, spraying juice everywhere.
Much to his surprise though, you didn't laugh or correct him, you just shrugged your shoulders and offered him a half of yours, somehow already peeled so cleanly he was almost envious.
"You'll learn."
You'd said.
There hadn't been an ounce of hesitance in your voice.
He believed you.
Months passed, and to each visit, regardless of the season, you always brought two oranges.
And at each visit, he always failed to emulate your delicate hands, crushing fruit after fruit with what he would come to learn was his own rash eagerness to succeed.
He was impatient and irrational, never waiting long enough to hear a single soul out, never caring to make a friend.
Unless of course, they were you.
He learned these things about himself, and with each coming realization, there was always the soothing smell of orange in the air, and thus the knowledge that it was okay for him to be irrational and impatient here.
Here was with you, and where you were, there was not only a space for him, but also an orange for him.
You peeled the oranges, and he made sure you were left with the perfect amount to eat afterward.
You were a team.
Friends.
And then, slowly, more.
And it was with this development, that Nines learned that he did not have hands gentle enough to peel an orange, but he did have hands gentle enough to hold you.
And twice a month, the two of you would sit in his kitchen, each with an orange, and you would peel them.
You were ever an expert, and always had your half to share.
Nines, on the other hand, even after years, had yet to learn, and struggled to follow your example.
Still, you always assured him that his slow, and sometimes seeming lack of progress, was okay.
You would always have enough for the two of you.
And what else mattered?
Well, it turned out, as the years marched onward, a lot.
Because sure, Nines was much better at understanding and expressing his own emotions with your continued support...
But as he watched those around you, he realized that there was so very much more.
None of which he could provide you with.
Cold and stern, he was not made to have a family, and when he told you this, he had seen that perfect light dim slightly behind your eyes.
"That's okay."
You had assured him,
"We can get a cat."
So you did.
You walked into that rescue shelter together, hand in hand, searching for a kitten to take home with you, something to nurture with all of that extra love you had.
But life had other plans, and you left there that day with an elderly orange former tomcat named Clementine.
You called him Clem.
Nines did too.
He was the second thing he ever loved.
The two of you had three wonderful years with that sweet old cat before he passed away peacefully in your arms one night as Nines gently pet his head, watching as he slipped away to some vast unknown that the android knew he would never be able to follow him into.
You cried into his soft fur, leaning against your love's chest as you held Clem close, whimpering over and over about how you couldn't put him down, how you couldn't bare to let him grow cold.
Nines had soothed you to the best of his ability, until finally, you had agreed to help him return sweet Clementine to the earth where he belonged, a beautiful and perfect part of the world.
You planted an orange tree in the soil above where you buried him.
It blossomed far earlier than what ever should have been possible.
You told Nines that they were the sweetest oranges you had ever eaten. He still couldn't peel them.
You assured him you were happy to keep showing him until he learned, no matter how long it took.
But now, there were more daunting issues on the android's mind, ones that far exceeded being unable to peel oranges.
You had grown lonely in the year since Clem had passed, even with Nines by your side,
And it seemed like every party you attended had some new mother, once an old friend, with a child for you to hold so dearly that the sight filled him with a sickening dread.
You yearned for a life he could not give you.
And even worse than that, he yearned for you to have a life that no other could take.
He had mourned the only other creature he had come to love and adore with such fervor as you.
He could not bare to do it a second time.
He had once wondered so innocently what it felt like to grieve.
A large part of him wished then that he had never known.
An even larger part of him wanted to ensure he never felt that way again.
He peeled his last orange with you on the first of the month, a decade to the date since your first meeting.
That evening, with a heart as heavy as lead he bid you farewell, watching as you tried to no avail to persuade him to reconsider, to let you back in again.
But at each slight falter, he saw you crying into soft orange fur, or dancing with a child he could never raise, and he held tight to his resolve.
He tried to get you to keep the home you owned together for yourself.
You told him with tears in your eyes that you loved him too much to take away all that he had worked so hard to earn.
There was a great deal of pain involved with living alone in a home that love had built, he found in the empty months toward the start of your absence.
Still, he could not bring himself to leave.
Your pictures were in the hall, the walls around them sun bleached so heavily that it seemed the shape of the frames would always remain, and how could he so casually abandon one of so few traces of you?
And your beloved cat was in the ground, grave marked by the orange tree that for the very first time ever, neglected to bear fruit that year.
Nines took it as a sign, and did not peel any oranges.
The second year after you'd left, you called him.
"Just checking in." You'd said, voice teary.
It was the anniversary of Clem's death.
Nines understood.
He let you speak, even though your voice hurt to hear.
He'd hoped you would have moved on by now,
But knew far too well why you had not,
So he neglected to comment on how desperately you deserved to love and be loved by someone, anyone else.
He was sure you would find that someday, whether he reminded you of your worthiness or not.
"I miss you."
You told him.
"I know."
He said.
Then, he sighed.
"I miss you too."
There was a strong silence, and, sensing that you had finished saying all that you needed to, he said the words he had been dreading having to speak since hearing your beautiful voice again after having gone so long without it.
"This will probably be the last time I answer."
He said gently, and he heard you sigh and breathe a shaky breath from the other end of the line.
"I know."
You whispered,
"I love you."
Nines felt a tear drip down the left side of his face at these three simple words, but returned them with a deep and painful honesty,
"I love you too."
He hung up shortly thereafter, because he knew you never would.
After that, the orange tree stopped blooming again for another three years.
Until finally, one bright summer day, on the first of the month, Nines exited his home to find a single ripe orange on the tree.
He picked it carefully, almost as if he believed it might turn to dust before his very eyes if he gripped it too firmly.
After this, he sat on the cement steps leading up toward the house, and, with a deep breath, pressed his thumb against the firm rind of the fruit.
It split beneath the pressure, but to his surprise, his finger did not go through.
Carefully, and with so much focus you would have thought him to be diffusing a bomb, Nines pulled away at that leathery peel until only the supple fruit beneath remained.
He stared down at it in what was almost surprise, before he took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the seam, splitting it in twain just as he'd seen you do a thousand times before.
He stared down at the two halves, vision slightly bleary with unexpected tears until finally, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and typed your name in.
He didn't know if you still had the same number, if you had him blocked, or if you would even bother to read his message if you saw who it was from.
But he knew he had to tell you, because there was no one else in the world who deserved to know more,
No one else in the world who would've ever believed he could do it.
'I peeled an orange today.'
He typed carefully, taking a deep breath before finally pressing 'send'.
And since oranges were good for sharing, he sat beneath that tree with Clementine,
And did just that.
masterlist
AO3
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lov3rachan · 7 months ago
Text
OT8 Most to Least: Throwing pebbles
“You were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles” - Love story, Taylor Swift
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Summary: SKZ throwing pebbles at your window when they come for a surprise visit.
Pairing: OT8 (separate) x reader
Genre: Fluff, humour, gender neutral (you/your)
Warnings: swear words (no more than five)
Word count: 1563 words
Requested by: no one
Written: 10.12.2024
Most likely
Hwang Hyunjin
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- He thinks it’s a great idea and he does so while serenading you. He spends like a good half an hour carefully choosing the perfect stones if it's a last-minute decision. If he plans it… he's going all out.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A light thumping sound began to accompany a beautifully rendered version of “Love story”, sung by a familiar voice.
As you cautiously looked outside the window, you noticed Hyunjin throwing pebbles at your window, a bouquet of red roses in his arms.
Once he saw you, he smiled: “May I come in, my Juliet?”.
As soon as he was let in, he dropped the three leftover pebbles on the table.
They were all perfectly heart shaped and on top of them was a letter.
While he could have painted the letter on, you were sure that your street didn’t have anything but concrete in it.
When he saw you staring at them he gave you the flowers: “I wanted it to be romantic and I couldn't just take off a piece of concrete, so I went shopping”.
The roses’ scent was still strong.
Before you could say a word, he kissed your lips briefly and then ran out the door quickly.
“I'll be right back, love. I'm just getting the rest of the pebbles”.
True to his word, he came back triumphantly with the remaining stones and quickly joined them with those on the table.
Once he was finished, he pushed you to see his work of art.
‘I LOVE YOU’
“Don't you have the most romantic of boyfriends, love?” He whispered in your ear, arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind.
Seo Changbin
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- He throws the pebbles too hard and breaks your window. Very apologetic about it. He will insist on paying for it. However, he is persistent and he will try again at another time while calling out your name but, after getting more than a few noise complaints, he gives up.
“BABY!” was shouting Changbin's voice outside.
As you were opening the door, you heard the loud crashing sound of your window and his panicked “fuck”.
The man came to you, eyes swelling with tears, blurting out mumbled apologies without a break.
After calming him down, and checking out the damage, his head hangs low as he promises to pay for every repair and to get you an even better window.
“A bullet-proof glass! A-and it will be uncrackable! I promise you will love it! And I swear I did not mean to break it!”.
Once he understood that you were okay (and his emotions were back in check) he returned to his usual smug self, flexing his biceps and bragging about his muscles.
Lee Felix Yongbok
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- He would do it but he’d text you he’s outside first (or at least coming), in order not to make you freak out.
It wasn’t unusual for Felix to visit you without warning but this time he wanted to make it extra romantic, especially after seeing one-too-many k-dramas with Han.
Felix texted you he was coming and, after double checking that nobody was watching, he started to look for pebbles on the street.
Very carefully, he started throwing them at the window, though he mostly missed.
After a few lot of missed throws, he gave up and rang the doorbell.
As you opened the door, you were greeted by a blushing Felix and his warm smile: “I brought brownies!”.
Once you are both settled at the table, he'd tell you about his romantic attempt at catching your attention with pebbles, slightly embarrassed by his bad aim.
Nevertheless, it becomes a funny anecdote to share while eating his delicious sweets together.
Han Jisung
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- He was kind of embarrassed of the cheesiness of it so he hides himself with a hoodie. You mistake him for a stalker or a creep and call the police and then him. He will never live it down.
It was a terrible idea.
Jisung was regretting every single choice he had made that led him outside your door.
Well, not every choice but a lot of them.
Why did he think this was going to be a good plan?
Every little sound sent him flinching, worried someone was going to catch him.
“Okay, here goes nothing” he muttered under his breath, encouraging himself.
He hid himself in his hoodie and started throwing whatever object of small dimensions he could find.
Suddenly his phone rang, startling him, and he hastily answered, turning away from the window, once he realised it was you.
“Jisung… A creep is outside my house. He keeps throwing stuff at my window!” you say.
“What?! Did you call the police?!” He whispered, worried about your safety.
“Yeah. I'm scared”
“I'm coming” he answered before turning around and realising that he was the only one in front of your house.
“Babe” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Pleasedont'tbemadandcometothewindow” he told you.
“What? What did you say?”
“IT'S ME!” he screamed.
As you heard him from inside the house you realised.
“The creep outside… it was just you?”
“Yeah! I wanted to be romantic! Call off the police! I'm dead if anybody finds out! Please?!” He told you frantically.
As you laughed in relief you went to let him in and waited for the police to come in.
After you explained the misunderstanding, Jisung laid on your couch: “I'm exhausted”.
With a fake sigh you dramatically threw yourself on his lap: “I almost had an heart attack because of you!”.
In response to your teasing, Jisung blushed even more, hiding his red face in his hoodie and cuddling you: “‘M sorry, babe. Want me to cuddle the scare away?”.
And so you spent the evening laughing about it, much to his (fake) dismay, and cuddling.
Lee "Know" Minho
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- He would do it as a prank. He’d hit your window then hide. And so on until you call him.
The last fifteen minutes had been annoying, to say the least.
Somebody kept throwing pebbles at your window but hid whenever you opened it and checked the situation out.
You had even tried to keep the window open but they just started hitting around it.
After looking outside the window once more, you spotted the culprit hiding behind a bush and you recognised the clothes he was wearing: Minho.
Grabbing your phone, you dialed his number and called.
After a few rings, you heard a hushed voice on the other side: “Yeah, kit?”.
“Come out. I can see your fat ass. It's sticking outside the bush” you say, though it really isn't.
“NO IT'S NOT” he screeched.
After realising that he gave himself away he ended the call and came out, hands up in surrender.
“You got me! Sorry!” he screamed with a chuckle, his smirk giving away how not-sorry he truly was.
Kim Seungmin
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- He would do it for a special birthday or something like that but it would be a one-of-a-time event. He would be very careful not to hit the glass and to throw it delicately. He gets tired of it quickly though so you better open the door before he tires.
This was stupid.
You had told him about how romantic it would have been a few months before but he still hadn't changed his mind: it was dumb.
Doorbells existed for a reason.
However, as the puppy in love that he was, there he stood: pebbles in one hand and your birthday gift in the other.
With a sigh, he begins to throw them at your window, carefully aiming for the frame.
‘Baseball skills honed after years of training… Used for this cheesy gesture. I'm so whipped’ he scolded himself.
As soon as you opened the door with a bright smile, though, his embarrassment melted away.
Sure, he was going to tease you for it for forever… But, although you'll never know, he had to admit that it was worth it, if it made you that happy.
Yang "IN" Jeongin
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- He's so flustered about it. He does it but, after just one throw, he gets embarrassed and just calls you and begs you to let him in.
It was one pebble.
After one barely audible ‘thud’ your phone ans doorbell rang at the same time.
As you opened the door you found Jeongin, as red as humanely possible.
When he saw your face he just hid in your embrace: “That was so embarassing”.
Nobody could ever find out, he told you.
The poor boy was unable to properly meet your gaze the whole evening.
The moment he had thrown that first pebble he felt so cringe… his skin literally shuddered at the memory.
Bang Christopher Chan
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- He is pretty worried about breaking something. He just calls you.
“Hey darling. How are you?” he started the voice message.
“Not to freak you out or anything but… uhm… I'm outside your house right now. Can I come in? We can cuddle and, you know, spend some time together? I missed you”
Chan is so shy as he asks so, standing outside your door with some snacks.
Were you going to think he's too clingy? As he started overthinking it, you opened the door.
As he entered your house, he made a mental note to ask you if you minded him showing up unprompted like this.
For future reference, of course.
For now he was simply giddy that he got to spend time with you.
Least
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ren14554 · 4 months ago
Text
**Note: I am not sorry about the last chapter. It had to be done. But here's the next one so hopefully you at least like it.**
*Want to start from the beginning? Chapter 1
Eternal
Chapter 17: Mexico - Uxmal
Part of him would much rather be anywhere but here. Stuck in the back of the rental Jeep, smaller than their previous, squeezed in between the left side and Kiara, the one person he's probably ready to get away from the most. 
Out of some twisted sense of revenge, she single-handedly ruined his relationship. The one thing he finally felt was going right. And maybe a tiny part of him knows it's his fault. What he did. What he didn't say. How he tried his best to just sweep it all under the rug and never lift it ever again if he could. 
He deserves it.
But that doesn't mean he can't be entirely absolutely pissed about it. Fucking Kiara. 
She sits tensely next to him, coiling away as if he's going to wrap his hand around her neck. 
His fault. 
So, instead, he spends the drive staring out the window, contemplating where Sofia may be now. Driving to the airport. Getting on a plane. Getting as far away from him as she can. 
Good. 
Maybe it's better this way. 
He survived before her; he'll survive after her.
At least, that's what he tells himself to believe. 
~~~~~
They make it to the Uxmal in record time, the sun starting its long descent back towards the horizon, with at least another four, maybe five hours of light left. Enough time to look around and maybe find some answers.
Rafe trails a few yards behind the group as they navigate the ruins, keeping to himself. The Pyramid of the Magician looms over them, taller than the structures they'd explored back at Dzibilchaltún. Tourists are scattered across its steps, some climbing cautiously, others posing for photos.
His gaze flickers over an informational plaque near one of the pyramids, though the words barely register. Footsteps approach, and he knows it's Sarah before he even looks.
"You okay?" she asks, voice softer than usual.
He doesn't answer. Sarah should know the answer to that.
Sarah sighs but doesn't press. Instead, she gestures vaguely to the ruins. "Well, according to one of the tour guides, this isn't even all of it. Uxmal was just one piece of a much bigger civilization—miles and miles of temples and structures connected."
Rafe hums in response, uninterested.
Nearby, a group of tourists chatter amongst themselves, their voices carrying over the area. One of them, a middle-aged man in cargo shorts and a sunhat, seems particularly invested in the conversation.
"What happened to the rest of it?" the man asks, hands on his hips like he's expecting some grand revelation.
"Lost to time," another tourist answers vaguely.
A woman holding a worn travel guide and a flag indicating a tour chimes in, flipping through the pages. "Some say the jungle took it back, swallowing entire cities whole. There's a legend about a lost city out here—one even bigger than Uxmal, hidden deep in the rainforest."
"I read something about that," the man says, adjusting his sunglasses. "Some explorers went looking for it years ago—never found anything, though."
"Or at least, nothing they shared," the woman adds with a conspiratorial smirk.
John B, Kiara, and Pope exchange glances, their interest piqued. Pope pulls out a book, flipping through its pages with a newfound urgency. "They might be talking about one of the lost cities linked by sacbeob."
"Sacbeob?" Kiara asks before shaking her head with confusion. "Hold up— where did you get the book?"
Cleo sighs, "He ran off to the gift shop ten minutes ago."
"They were ancient roads," Pope ignores them, explaining away. "The Mayans built them to connect major cities. Some of them stretched for miles." He taps a page with a faded map sketch. "If there's something still out there, it won't be here—it'll be along one of those roads. Somewhere deeper in the rainforest that surrounds us."
Kiara exhales, already looking annoyed. "Great. Because the jungle is super small and easy to explore."
"I'm just saying," Pope mutters.
Rafe listens, but his focus keeps slipping.
He should care more. This is why they came here—to find answers, to figure out the next step. But all he can think about is Sofia. How she's not here. How she is supposed to be heading home. She's probably somewhere trying to decide if she ever wants to give him the time of day again.
He doesn't blame her if she never wants to.
~~~~~
They find themselves down an old dirt road just north of the Uxmal site, John B, directed from the driver’s seat by a hopeful Pope. Stepping out feels desolate, yet Uxmal is just a few minutes’ walk south of them.
"The map online says it should be about 30ish minutes. We have to cross a few small rivers and climb a hill, and it should be nestled on the other side before the thick of the rainforest." Pope rechecks the computer; the map he pulled up on the screen zeroed in on their current location, with a satellite-quality resolution of some ruins nestled up in the rainforest. 
“Do we have pictures of the map?" John B asks. "I’m pretty sure we lost the internet about ten minutes ago."
"I got it all on my phone," Pope gestures before closing the laptop and putting it in the back of the Jeep. 
They head out, Pope and Cleo taking up the front, leading them through the forest as it gets denser and muggier. Kiara keeps away from him, and John B and Sarah separate them wordlessly as Rafe takes up the rear. Happier than anything, he doesn't have eyes on him, more than content to mindlessly follow the pack. 
His head runs through the what-ifs, the jungle's distant ambiance keeping him company.
What if he would've just told her from the start?
She probably wouldn't have even wanted anything to do with him.
What if he told her a year in?
She probably would've still run for the hills.
What if he would've been more honest when he proposed?
She probably would've refused the ring and, in turn, him.
His past haunts him. 
Twenty minutes in, they finally come to a small, reasonably tame river, maybe about twenty feet wide. They carefully step on rocks jutting from the gentle surface, one after another, making it over without much issue. As Rafe makes it to the other bank, he goes for his back pocket, but it's empty. 
Fuck. 
His phone must've slipped out when he was squished into the back of the Jeep. Probably somewhere between the seat and the side of the Jeep. 
He internally kicks himself, but it's too late to go back for it, so all he's got is the murmurings of his sister's friends. What he would kill for Barry's easy-going company right about now.
The trees finally start thinning, the thick tangle of vines and branches giving way to something more open. Rafe pushes through the last bit of overgrowth, his sneakers hitting solid ground instead of dirt. It's stone. And not just a random slab—the entire area ahead looks carved, placed for a reason
Then, as they step forward, the jungle fully parts, revealing what lies beyond.
The city stretches out in front of them, half-consumed by the jungle. Crumbling structures, their edges softened by vines and moss, stand in eerie silence. Some are barely more than rubble, but others still hold their shape—stubborn, ancient. The whole place feels untouched as if they're the first to set foot here in centuries.
"Holy shit," John B mutters.
No one disagrees.
They make their way deeper into the clearing, the sun casting shadows from its place in the sky, tropical birds chirping in the distant forest, and the wind softly blowing across the structures.
"This is… insane," Kiara murmurs, trailing a hand along a wall, the stone rough and worn under her fingers.
"Unreal," Pope corrects, pulling out his phone and snapping quick pictures, as the thick canopy they had been under opens up, letting light into the vast open area.
They meander through the ruins, stepping over fallen stones and through narrow alleyways where walls lean too close together. The jungle still creeps in—roots split stone, vines weave through cracks—but the place holds.
As they make their way closer to the temple structure, long stone stairs surround the square pyramid-like structure, which is not as tall as the pyramid next to it but at least four stories tall, all the same.
They end up at the temple's base, stopping in front of what looks like an old stone pedestal, half-buried in moss and dirt. At first glance, it seems like just another piece of the ruins—until Pope brushes off the grime, revealing a circular stone wheel embedded in the structure. Around its edges, thick stone spokes jut out at uneven angles. "Okay… this is definitely some kind of puzzle."
"No kidding," John B mutters in astonishment.
Kiara steps closer, tracing one of the worn carvings. "But what do these symbols even mean?"
There are no clear instructions, no apparent pattern. Just scattered engravings—some of them recognizable, others faded beyond recognition. A jagged shape that might be a mountain. A spiral. A creature that could be a jaguar or maybe just a really messed-up dog.
"So what? We just spin it and hope we don't trigger some ancient booby trap?" Rafe says, crossing his arms.
Sarah shoots him a look. "We should probably try to figure it out first."
Pope steps back, scanning the area. "The Mayans didn't just put random symbols on things. They had meaning. These have to be clues."
They spread out, searching the ruins surrounding the temple for anything that could help.
Rafe finds a crumbling pillar, its surface covered in faded paintings. "Hey, this one's got some kinda story on it."
Pope jogs over, brushing off some of the moss. "Looks like… people gathering around a fire? No—wait. That's the sun. The sun was important to them."
Sarah calls out from a different spot. "This wall over here has carvings too! Some kind of animal?"
They gather around as she points to the jagged outline of a large cat, its fangs bared and claws extended.
"Jaguar," Cleo says. "They were sacred too?"
"Yep," Pope nods. "That's two. Sun and jaguar."
Kiara squints at another stone slab nearby. "This one's got, like, wavy lines? Maybe a river?"
Pope frowns. "Or it could be smoke. Or wind."
"Well, we're gonna have to guess eventually," John B says.
Pope takes a breath at the stone wheel and starts turning the spokes, aligning the symbols they've found. He places the jaguar first, next the sun, then what he assumes is the river. For the last one, he hesitates, then picks the spiral from the carvings.
The second he locks it into place, a resounding, metallic clunk echoes through the stone.
Then the ground shakes.
The wheel suddenly snaps back with a violent lurch, and dust sprays from the edges of the door. A grinding noise groans from deep inside the temple walls.
"Shit," Kiara hisses, stumbling back.
"Wrong order," Pope mutters.
"No kidding," Rafe snaps.
The rumbling slows, but the door stays shut. The symbols have reset, but nothing else seems to have happened. No traps. No arrows flying at their heads.
Sarah exhales. "So… we just try again?"
Pope nods, thinking. "Okay. We got three right. But that last one—the spiral—it's wrong."
"Maybe it's something else," Cleo suggests.
Rafe suddenly remembers another carving he'd seen—a stalk of something, its leaves reaching up. He jogs back toward the ruins, scanning the walls until he spots it again.
"Wait," he calls out. "This. Right here."
Pope rushes over. "That's… maize. Corn." His brain kicks into gear. "Shit. That makes sense. Maize was life for the Mayans. They literally worshipped it."
"When did you become such a Mayan expert?" Sarah looks on at Pope incredulously.
He goes to answer, but Cleo answers for him. 
"He was on his computer until about 2 am researching all he could."
Pope shrugs. "Gotta be prepared."
"Then let's try that," Kiara says with a shrug.
Back at the wheel, Pope resets the symbols. The jaguar first. Then sun. Then, the river. And finally, he lines up the maize.
For a second, nothing happens.
Then, the ground beneath them trembles, dust trickling from the seams in the stone as the massive doorway begins to shift up the staircase. A long, slow scraping noise fills the air as the entrance rolls back, disappearing into the wall. They all glance at each other before Pope starts up the staircase, the rest following. As they get to the entrance, a dark passage stretches beyond, cool air rushing out, stale with age.
Rafe exhales sharply. "That's not creepy at all."
"Well, no turning back now," Sarah says, stepping forward. The rest of them follow.
~~~~~
Down the narrow passageway, and a few twists and turns later, they find themselves at the top of a grand, uneven stone staircase leading down into a massive inner room, more prominent than one might expect from the outside. Rafe breathes out, earning an mmhm from his sister in agreement. Their eyes expand like saucers at the unbelievableness of it all. 
The large stone floor is broken, vines weaving through the cracks, attempting to slowly take over the space that has already gained centuries of ground.
They start down the steps, in awe.
The walls are covered in carvings, stretching twenty or thirty feet and nearly covering all surfaces. The pillars still hold up the inside, sturdy regardless of the weather or time. 
Some are faded, while others are still sharp, like time forgot about them. People are standing in circles, arms raised. Others are kneeling before something more significant. Gods? A king? Symbols are scattered throughout, some familiar from before and some completely new. His gaze catches on a section that looks different—more jagged and violent. Battles. Sacrifices.
"This is insane," Sarah breathes, tilting her flashlight up.
Pope moves closer to the carvings, eyes wide. "It's a meeting hall," he murmurs. "Or something close to it."
"They must've come here to decide shit," Kiara says, brushing dust from an engraving.
"Or plan wars," Cleo adds.
Rafe barely hears them. He steps further in, gaze dragging over every inch of the place. He doesn't know why, but something about it—it feels different. Not just old. Important.
His fingers twitch at his side.
"Guys, over here," Pope says suddenly.
Rafe turns and finds him near the far wall.
A map spanning feet into the air and the entire length of the wall. Worn from time but is still reasonably clear— in certain spots, at least. Kiara aims her phone's flashlight at it, Pope taking the opportunity to snap a few photos.
"What is it leading to?" John B squints up towards the top, a bit hard to see from their vantage point. "A waterfall?"
"Is that a waterfall? Maybe a river?" Sarah follows her boyfriend's lead. Rafe leans in, too, squinting up at the vertical waves. Rafe stares at it. Tries to piece it together. The symbols, the path, the destination. Whatever it is, it's not here. It's somewhere else.
A sound cuts through the space.
Footsteps.
Suddenly, the wall is bathed in a stark white light, almost blinding. Rafe and the others all turn abruptly, and a few figures bathed in darkness stand at the top near the passageway they came from. 
"Well, well, well." Groff's voice cuts through the interior, echoing off the old limestone. "Look who we have here."
Rafe's eyes adjust to the light and make out Chandler, Dalia, and a few of her mercenaries. While Groff looks amused, Dalia, on the other hand, looks indifferent and almost annoyed. 
"Knew you'd all pull through for me." Groff ambles slowly down the old crumbling stairs, Dalia and her men following suit until he reaches the stone floor. Rafe backs up with the Pogues, trying to put enough comfortable distance between them, but the inside of the temple doesn't lend much of it, regardless. 
"Groff." Kiara sneers confidently. 
"Not happy to see me? What a shame." The man boasts. Rafe has half a mind to lunge at the psychotic jackass if it weren't for the hand— Sarah's— currently warning him, grasping his forearm in protest of his vibrating want. 
"How did you find us?" John B questions. 
"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Groff boasts jovially. He turns back toward the far wall and directs one of the goons’ lights there, reflecting the wall in bright light.
"What do we have here?" They all glance at it, analyzing it. 
The map covered the stone wall, its carvings faded and worn from age. A twisting line ran through the center, looking like it marked a path, though it wasn't clear where it led. Strange symbols were scattered along the route—what looked to be trees, a spiral, and a rectangle—but their meaning was hard to guess. Near the end of the line, the carvings formed a rough shape, three squiggly lines clustered together up and down but too weathered to make out its meaning. Around the edges, small markings and patterns framed the map, symbols that once meant something to the creators.
Groff takes his time, letting his eyes drag over each of them, smug and unbothered, like he's already won. "I have to say, I'm impressed," he drawls, turning to one of his men. "Get pictures of this." A man lifts a camera, snapping shots of the carvings, the map, and the clue they uncovered.
Groff sighs dramatically and turns back to them. "I would say thank you for unearthing this, but then again, you did steal from me. It's only fair."
Kie suddenly surges forward, but Pope is ready, catching her before she can do something they'll all regret. She struggles against his hold, seething. "Fair?" She spits. "Fair? You fucking monster!" Her voice cracks with pure fury. "You should pay for what you did."
Groff exhales, already bored. "Girl, I've got no time to care about whatever you're on about."
Kie wrenches against Pope, fury in her eyes. "Your son! The one you murdered! For money!"
A muscle in Groff's jaw jumps, but his smirk stays firm. "Ah. Well, he was collateral damage. What can I say."
Sarah's breath shudders, her voice laced with disgust. "You're fucking sick."
"I may be." Groff shrugs. "But I do still sleep soundly through the night."
Rafe can feel the blood rushing in his ears, his fists clenching at his sides.
Groff shifts his attention to him, his smirk widening. "And you," he drawls. "Still trying to play hero? You're not built for that, Rafe. You're just like your old man—selfish, ruthless. The only difference is, he wouldn't be dumb enough to get himself killed over a lost cause."
Rafe doesn't think. Livid. His brain is a muddled mess of pure rage at the smug man, enticing them to react. Well, Groff got the one guy who is willing to.
He surges forward. Groff’s hand signals.
"Rafe, don't—" Sarah shouts.
Suddenly, shots ring out. They pelt the floor right by Rafe's feet. He leaps back on instinct. Arms wrap around his forearm and chest, Sarah and John B pulling him back towards the group's safety. Dalia yells for the men to stop, clearly angry that Groff overstepped his bounds. The goons readjust without as much of a concern. 
They're cold. Detached. 
"Pitty." Groff remarks. "Was hoping for a little bloodshed this evening."
Rafe's body vibrates with irritation. John B keeps him locked back with his arm around his chest, patting him angrily in understanding himself.
"Well, as enlightening as this has been, we must be off. Looks like we've got a new lead. Thank you for your assistance, but it will no longer be needed." Groff smirks before making his way back up the steps towards the temple's entrance. 
"Fuck you!" Kiara yells. Groff chuckles in return as Dalia follows suit, muttering under her breath towards her mercenaries. Two men with guns at the top of the staircase focus closely on the six of them as the others file out in a loose formation.
Once the men disappear up top, they finally regard one another, John B releasing him, but Sarah rests a calming hand on his shoulder, almost as if she's scared he'd get some big idea to bound up those steps and give Groff a piece of his mind. 
He's sure Kiara would be the first to join him. 
"We've got pictures too. Let's wait a minute for them to leave, and then we can return to the city. We can regroup back home."
Home. 
Their Airbnb away from their real home, that is.
Five minutes later, long enough for their liking, they bound up the steps, rushing back through the few turns in the long passageway before Cleo and Sarah come to a halt. The rest of them filing in close behind. 
Groff, Dalia, and two of her men holding guns stand outside, down the narrow passageway, on the other side of the doorway. 
Groff smirks. With arms crossed, Dalia looks exasperated but stands still next to Groff. 
"I wanted the last word."
Cleo scoffs, "You had that."
"I just wanted to express my appreciation for your efforts towards providing me with the way forward. In a weird way, I'll kind of miss you miscreants."
Miss them?
Groff signals behind his shoulder, and suddenly, a creaking sound, gears shaking the ground they stand on as the circular stone doorway starts to shift. 
"No!" John B yells, rushing down the narrow passageway towards the now-closing doorway.
"Be seeing you." Groff preens sickeningly. 
John B rushes quickly, but the doorway shuts into place just as he reaches it. His hands slam against the stone as Rafe and Pope join him. It doesn't budge. 
Silence. 
Cleo speaks. "What the hell do we do now?" 
"How the fuck did they find us?" Kiara scoffs, glancing around at each of them. Pope urgently shuffles around in his backpack, then stops, pulling something out.
"Uh, guys," Pope says, producing a small black box with a blinking red light. I think they put a tracker in my backpack."
"What?" Kiara turns on him.
"They must've done it when we made contact with them—"
Cleo responds sullenly, "Japan." When they fought off those two guys who tried taking Sof.
"Fuck." Rafe almost yells, his voice echoing in the old stone space, hands clutching the back of his neck in anger.
"Uh," Sarah speaks, "Are we sure there isn't another way?"
"It's sealed shut," Kiara states as Rafe pounds on the once-open doorway.
"Rafe," Sarah goes to stop him. "You're not helping."
"You're not doing anything?" He argues back quickly. His anger and slight desperation getting the better of him. 
"Us fighting isn't going to help." Sarah's voice is pointed; it's at him. He stops his banging and instead leans back against the once-open doorway, sliding down until his ass hits the cold stone. He rests his elbows over his knees. 
"There's gotta be a way out. In what world would ancient Mayans not have an escape route." Kiara urges. 
They split up, Rafe and John B trying to find anything that could potentially open the door while the girls and Pope head back into the temple in search of another way out. 
Thirty minutes later, they come back together, no closer to escaping than they had been before. 
"It's hopeless," Sarah remarks, sliding down the wall in the small entrance passageway. Her voice is downtrodden. John B goes to Sarah's side like the good boyfriend he is. Rafe leans back against the doorway, the cool stone seeping through his T-shirt.
~~~~~
Four or five hours after being stuck, or at least thirty minutes since the last time they had a flashlight before the last phone died, they all sit in relative, dark silence.
"I never thought I'd die in an old Mayan temple in the middle of Mexico," Sarah breaks it, "But I guess there's a first time for everything… or so they say."
"We're not gonna die." John B reassures, holding Sarah at his side protectively. 
Leaning against the wall across the way, Cleo scoffs, "Your positivity right now is exhausting."
Pope rests a comforting hand on her ankle from below. 
John B retorts, "What else are we supposed to be?"
The reality of the situation starts to sink in. Rafe and Pope attempt to move the stone door with strength and sheer will. It still doesn't budge. The girls go searching once more around the inside of the temple for any source of the outside world. They find none. John B, with a hunch that maybe they are actually in an Indian Jones movie, attempts to stick his hand in odd-looking holes in the wall, much to Sarah's chagrin and worry. No hands taken. No hidden triggers uncovered.
~~~~~
Rafe doesn't know how long he lies on his back, staring up at the cold grey stone ceiling, perhaps entombing them for the rest of time. 
So much he wishes he could do over. 
Sofia.
Home.
Things he wants to experience once more. 
A body lies down next to him, situating themselves comfortably. He glances over at his sister, casually leaning on her side, head on her elbow, staring at him with an untraceable look in the darkness.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Sarah sighs. "What are you thinking about?"
"A lot."
"I've been doing the same," Sarah states, "and you know the one thing that's been on my mind at least the last... I don't know… two hours."
"What?" he asks with a little bit of skepticism. 
"I've been racking my brain on how to separate the Rafe I grew up with and the Rafe from 3-4 years ago."
He glances over, startled.
"And I'll admit it is tough—"
He interrupts, "I'm sorry. There's a laundry list of things I could sit here and rattle off and say sorry for, but I probably either miss out on a few or go on forever, so… I'm sorry, and I wouldn't blame you if you never forgive me."
"I forgive you," she smiles softly, "And it's hard because... I forgive you, but I don't forgive what you did, and I don't know… that, I guess, doesn't make any sense, but to me, I guess it does, and I just… I forgive you."
"Don't do that just because we're lying here having a near-death heart-to-heart."
"Yeah, well, I have my own free will. And I can make that decision for myself, but I think if this is really real— the end— I should at least absolve you of your guilt. At least a little bit of it."
He chuckles slightly, "You're a pretty great sister… aside from Wheezie."
"God," Sarah sniffles jokingly, "you're gonna make me cry, Rafe."
He smirks softly, tilting his head towards his sister, "Don't waste your tears."
Sarah smiles, "On you, never—"
Suddenly, a shifting jolts them both into sitting, the rest of the Pogues startling as well.
__________________
She's doing the right thing. She's no longer needed to be frank, and she helped where she could. Her role in it all is finished. At least, that's what she keeps repeating to herself like a mantra as she watches the city go by, getting closer and closer to the airport.
Home.
Home. 
Why does she feel like she's leaving it rather than running toward it? She doesn't want to feel like she's leaving something behind. 
Someone. 
He lied about things that are important to tell someone, to warn someone about. Instead of being brave enough to tell her, someone else affected had to. 
How can she trust him?
The taxi suddenly stops, and the driver grumbles, "Nosotras estamos aqui."
She startles to move, "Gracias." She quickly grabs her things— not much— and exits.
The airport is bustling. Vacationers heading home or just arriving. Locals milling about picking up loved ones. She quickly makes her way through check-in and enters in line for security, feeling like she's floating. Empty. 
Sad.
He hurt Kiara and Pope.
Kiara is still hurt and Pope tolerable of Rafe. 
He hurt his own sister multiple times. 
Sarah still tries with him, seems to have started to let him back into her life.
He shot someone. 
But he said he was in a low place and thought he was protecting his dad.
"Señorita?" 
She startles as the security officer motions her next. She hesitates, then steps forward, holding out her ticket and passport, then suddenly retracting it. 
The officer furrows their brows as she backs away, stopping the line behind her, a few patrons cursing her under their breath or looking on in confusion. 
There's a pull. 
Turning, she walks around the large line and returns to the check-in area. Feeling utterly crazy.
She pulls out the brand-new phone, which was set up for her, from her back pocket. It was left in the envelope Rafe slid to her along with twenty-five hundred dollars. She opens the contacts, her finger hovering over Sarah's number, which she thinks Sarah herself must have entered, debating whether to text the woman or not. 
Fuck. 
Instead, she exits the airport, hails a taxi, and requests them to drive her back to the Airbnb.
~~~~~
It's quiet when she gets in; no sign of anyone, but they only left about four hours ago. She busies herself by tidying up the Airbnb's living room. It only takes her ten minutes. 
Her fingers hover over Rafe's contact, which was there when she opened the phone, probably on account of him thinking maybe she might need him. When she opens his location, it's smack dab in the middle of nowhere just north of Uxmal. 
She decides to take a walk around the neighborhood then, picking up elote at one of the local street vendors, who smiles at her kindly. It doesn't help that this growing sinking feeling starts to set in. She manages to dodge a few men on the street heckling. 
When she returns, the house is still empty. 
The sun starts its descent to the horizon.
She shoots Sarah a text. Checks Rafe's location. Same place, no movement. 
An hour and a half later, nothing. 
The house is illuminated only by the lamplight that Sofia has on. She rechecks Rafe's location.
Same place. 
The sinking feeling worsens so much that she starts to feel sick.
As the clock nears 9 pm, she finally decides to do something about it. 
She thinks she remembers seeing Pope toss the rental place's business card on the kitchen table. She finds it and quickly taps in the number.
"Hola." She says, thankfully, when a man answers.
"Hola." The man greets, then continues, “Estamos a punto de cerrar, así que sugiero que vuelvas a llamar en la mañana para cualquiera de tus—"
"Espera." Sofia implores, "Por favor. Necesito un alquiler esta noche—"
"Lo siento señorita. Vamos a cerrar en diez minutos..."
"Lo sé, pero—" She interrupts once more, "Por favor. Necesito desesperadamente alquilar un Jeep esta noche. Puedo conseguirte dinero en efectivo y puedo estar allí en quince minutos. Please."
There's silence and a sigh. "Fifteen minutes."
"Gracias, gracias," she breathes a sigh of relief, "Thank you."
She finds a ride-share and gets there in under twelve minutes with the prodding of her driver, who seems to get a thrill from getting to their destination as quickly as possible. She tips him well.
Luckily, the Jeep Sofia rents is only a couple hundred, and they let her peel out of there twenty minutes after they should've closed. 
Her anxiety continues to spike as her location spottily gets closer and closer to Rafes, eyes peering out into the night and headlights that pass her as she gets further out from the city and closer to the rainforest. 
An hour later, she nears Uxmal. The signs guide tourists and locals alike. One mile ahead. 
However, based on Rafe's location, he's not quite where Uxmal is. Instead, he's down a long, dark, desolate dirt road that her GPS tells her to turn onto. Her heartbeat spikes a little in the darkness as the headlights illuminate nothing but trees and dirt.
As her location converges on Rafes, she peers into the darkening night. When she is practically on top of his dot, she determines she’s… maybe… arrived. But there's still not much to see. The moon hides behind the tree line, but she can't deny that the night sky sparkles out here. 
Luckily, the glove box holds the flashlight she smartly grabbed from the Airbnb. Part of her wishes she would've packed more. If only Pope had been around. 
Hopping out of the Jeep, she clicks on the flashlight, which illuminates more of the surrounding area. She glances between her phone, which currently flirts with no connection and one bar, and the surrounding rainforest. Light suddenly glints from the distance. 
She shines the flashlight, and the light hits metal that reflects. 
A Jeep. 
As she nears, it sits lower to the ground, the light illuminating the tires slashed. Glass litters the ground around it, and each window is fractured haphazardly. Her feet crunch on the glass shards as she peers in worriedly, the inside trashed as if people were searching for something. A computer sits flickering in the back, close to dead and dim. She carefully steps up on the outside footstep and leans in, careful not to get cut, but snatches up the laptop. 
It's hanging on by wires. 
Carefully, she peers at the map, which shows a pretty straight trail north from her current location, crossing a few small rivers. She snaps a picture; the image is not the best, but it works. 
Of course, Pope was prepared for anything. 
She's grateful that somehow she kept on the right track, especially as her eyes continued to readjust as the night got darker. The flashlight lights up more than she anticipated, though the random noises of animals in the distance do nothing to settle her nerves. Being a lone woman walking through a dense forest on the verge of becoming a thick rainforest wasn't probably the brightest idea. She just hopes there is something… or someone to find. 
As she crests what she believes to be the last hill, the old ruins of a once ancient Mayan civilization comes into view. There's little detail in the darkness, but the flashlight highlights the relatively still intact city, stone and vines, and vegetation. Two pyramid-like structures crumbling away from millennia of existence in the distance. 
Her breath truly leaves her. 
There's a sense of awe at their presence, but she doesn't have time to admire it. There is still no sign of anyone, and her dread slowly continues to rise the longer she is alone.
Suddenly, a screech sounds almost too close for her liking. Her flashlight and body jump towards the denser jungle, waiting for something to come out. She stays frozen for a moment, the darkness and silence greeting her, giving her enough time to gain confidence and move again. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary as she aims the flashlight around, walking further into the long-abandoned settlement. As she makes her way through the ruins towards the temple structure, long stone stairs surround the square pyramid-like structure, not as tall as the Tomb next to it, and shoots up into the night sky all the same. 
An old stone pedestal sits at the base with a circular wheel embedded with thick stone spokes at uneven angles. Deep engravings mark the surface, some more worn than others—symbols scattered across the wheel. 
She sucks in a sharp breath.
It doesn't take long to notice the grooves don't quite line up. Someone has already tampered with it. Recently.
Sofia swallows, gripping one of the spokes, testing its resistance. It moves slightly. Another turns more freely.
She kneels, thinking. The Mayans didn't put things here randomly, or someone was playing a sick joke on her.
Jaguar. Sun. River… but what's the last one?
Her eyes flick over the engravings again.
Corn.
A memory tugs at the edges of her mind. When her teachers taught about the Mayans and their worship of a Corn God, the boys in her class thought it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard. She can admit she, too, laughed at the audacity of worshipping a Corn God.
But they did. It was everything to them.
Her gut tells her it's right.
She carefully adjusts the spokes, ensuring the jaguar, sun, and river are perfectly in place before moving the maize in position last.
A deep clunk reverberates through the stone.
The ground shifts beneath her feet.
Sofia stumbles back as a low rumble groans through the ruins, dust spilling from the edges of the temple. Her head snaps up just as the massive stone door—halfway up the staircase—begins moving.
It retracts into the wall.
__________________
Centuries-old gears shift and crank, groaning at the force as the stone door that rolled into place some time ago slowly rolls back out, moonlight bathing them slowly in shadow. 
None of them move for a moment, shocked at their sudden turn of luck. 
Rafe scrambles up, jogging through the opening with the rest, trying to shake off if this is just a hallucination provided by slowly going stir-crazy. 
But just as Rafe smiles with relief, he glances down the steps from the entrance where everyone else's eyes are trained, landing on their savior.
Sofia.
__________________
Next Part: Chapter 18
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vintageneptune92 · 4 months ago
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Burn the Shadow- 8
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Fin looked up when he heard the pounding of heels on the squadroom floor. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Gia storming in. "Fucking Amaro" he cursed under his breath. He was so impulsive sometimes. Gia didn't need to be here for when this scum bag was dragged in. She had been through enough. He wished Amanda hadn't had to leave. She could have coaxed her and calmed her down; Fin knew he wasn't the person for that. Gia looked around to see if he had arrived. A few moments later, Barba rushed in.
"What are you doing? You can not be here, please Gianna! At least not like this." He gestured around. Fin could hear the pleading in his voice but he knew it was pointless. "I am begging you to go home." She spun, staring him down. Fin didn't ever want to be on the end of that stare down, she was tiny, but terrifying. The rage behind her eyes was unmatched. He could have sworn she spitefully asked him which one and he looked a little wounded. Fin was fighting the urge between wanting to know what was going on between the two of them, and wanting to mind his own business. He wasn't dumb. Everyone saw it. The two of them either were fighting it or the most oblivious morons on the planet. He had never seen Barba that disheveled. Gia, however, looked like a force of nature. It was the heels and that black leather jacket, at least she didn't bring her gun. Cragen came out of his office when he heard the commotion.
"Absolutely not. Barba, did you really think this was a good idea?!" Barba put his hands up in defense.
"I am not the one who told her. I've been trying to get her to not do this. She hopped in an Uber without me." Fin looked between the two of them. They had been together.
"Detective, you cannot be here. You cannot question him. You are a victim. You have to ID him. If you are standing here when he gets pulled in, it taints the ID."
"For what?!" Gia threw her arms up in incredulity. "We have him on camera. I don't need to do a line up. He killed my best friend. He tried to kill me. We have his DNA. I'm not leaving."
Cragen pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, probably wishing he had put in for retirement. Barba grabbed her by the shoulders and she jerked away slightly, which caused another wounded look on his face. Fin knew when Gia got fired up there was no talking to her. She wasn't as bad as Nick and her rage was absolutely justified. She was furious and it was directed right at Barba, but he wasn't backing down.
"The ID just strengthens the case. Tightens it up. Gia, you know this. Look, I get it, we all get it. You CANNOT be in the middle of this squadroom when he gets here." As Fin got a better look at her, she had a feral look in her eyes. It made Fin stand up and walk over to her.
"Gee, c'mon. You know you have to do the ID." Her eyes softened, slightly, when Fin approached her. "I get it. You want a piece of him. Hell, I want a piece of him. The only way to do that is to put him behind bars."
"Then we do it when he gets here. I am listening to the interrogation." Cragen let out the breath he had been holding.
"Fine. But that's it. You try to step one foot in that room and I will put you in a holding cell." She gave him a curt nod.
"Fin, bring her into the interview room, blinds shut, door closed. She can't see him walk in. Cuff her to the chair if you need to. Barba you may want to, uh, button it up." His tie was hanging around his neck, his hair was a little disheveled and his jacket was thrown over his arm. His appearance made sense if Gia gave him the slip. It made him love her just a little bit more.
"C'mon Gee, let's go. We need to catch up anyway." She turned back to Barba with a look of desperation, most of her anger at him deflated. Fin was pretty sure she wasn't mad at him, she just needed to rage. If Amaro had just waited until they had him for the lineup this would have been a lot easier.
"Go with Fin. I'll see you when you ID this son of a bitch." She swallowed and nodded and followed Fin into the room. He shut the door and closed the blinds.
"So who called you?"
"Who do you think?" There was a bite to her voice.
"Amaro...of course. Barba is smarter than that."
"Nick is loyal."
"And stupid. Cragen is going to kill him. You really gave Barba the slip?" Fin laughed. "Ruffled his feathers. You're good for him." Gia was standing rigidly with her back to Fin. He could tell her arms were crossed. She held an hand up to signal him to stop.
"Don't."
"C'mon Gee. I'm not good with all of this emotional stuff. I'm just trying to distract you. We all know he's the only one you've been talking to until recently. I'm just teasing you. But it's fun to see him so bent out of shape. Sit down, talk to me. Take a breath.She went over and sat down next to him.
"I'm sorry. It's just been hard."
"You don't have to tell me that. You don't have to say sorry. You've been through hell. And I know you had something else going on that I won't ask about, but you can tell me about that too anytime you want. I've been worried but didn't want to impose. We just all know you've been at least talking to Barba. He updated Nick. Nick updated us... we were just happy you were talking to one of us because the radio silence wasn't easy on anyone" Gia immediately felt a pang of regret.
"Rafael...he...Fin he just gets how my mind works. Which makes it easier, you know? It's kind of a mess right now." She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off her impending headache.
"Yeah I get it. You guys have this weird nerdy connection. It's okay to lean on a friend." Fin was pretty sure they were more than just friends, or at least on the way to that. He saw how Barba looked at her and he saw the look on her face when he was in the courtroom. Barba was in trouble because Gia was a handful. She put her face in her hands. She let out a groan of frustration.
"I was finally feeling better, ya know? I felt like myself again. Is it bad that I wish I had a few more days of that?"
"No it's not bad. But think of it this way, think about how much better you'll feel when he's put away. You're almost on the other side. It's just a little more. You've gotten through the worst of it."
"Have I?" Before Fin could answer, Barba opened the door, looking much more put together.
"Gia, we're ready." She stood up and walked towards him. He put his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the room.
"Get 'em Gee." She turned back and gave him a small smile and then walked out the door.
Rafael was silent as he led her and she suddenly stopped.
"Don't be mad." She said quietly.
"I'm not...mad."
"You are."
"C'mon..." he didn't want to get into it now. He hated to admit he admired her boldness of just storming into the precinct. Her sharp comments and indifference stung a little. He understood, she had so much grief and rage pumping through her veins, she didn't mean to be that way. She was so deeply under his skin, he didn't know how to handle it. She had such a hold over him.
When they approached the window, Nick wasn't there. It was Liv and Cragen.
"He didn't invoke?" She was shocked not to see a lawyer there.
"No." Was all that Liv said. Gia wanted more. She wanted every single detail of the arrest, how they caught him, what he said. "You ready?" Gia nodded. Her stomach was doing flips. She hadn't thought about what it would be like seeing him again. She couldn't speak, all she could do was nod.
As she approached the window, he was there, right in the middle. Her hand floated to her throat. Rafael closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke.
"Detective, do you see the man that attacked you in your apartment?"
"Yes, number 3." She flinched each time Liv knocked on the glass.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafael stood next to Gia outside of the interrogation room. Cragen was going to let Nick and Liv do the interrogation. Gia was happy Nick wasn't in real trouble. Rafael and Gia were waiting for the three of them. Cragen would be joining them to watch. He put his hand on her lower back, instead of jerking away from him, she leaned into him just slightly.
"I'm not mad, I was just frustrated. I...I could have made this easier for you. You got yourself so worked up." It was like there was a different person standing next to him than the one he was dancing with not that long ago.
"I wasn't thinking clearly. I just...I had to be here for this. I know I can't interrogate him. But I have to hear this. I need to listen to what he has to say, how he says it. Maybe I'll get some damn closure."
"I know and I know the closure you're looking for isn't just with Alison. Gianna I know that. I just wish you just trusted me more to help you get it." She turned and gaped at him.
"Raf, I trust you more than anyone. I..." She didn't know what else to say. The disbelief rang in her voice. He turned towards her and they locked eyes for a moment. Before he could say anything Liv walked up to them.
"Gia-" she turned to her and Liv pulled her into a fierce hug. It took Gia a moment to hug ber back. When Liv pulled back she put her hand on Gia's cheek. "I told you I would get him." Gia nodded while her eyes watered, but she refused to cry right now. "You okay?" Liv saw the fear that she was trying to hide. Gia nodded.
"How much trouble is Nick in?"
"He's not. I told Cragen I told him to call you. That we just weren't thinking."
"You're a good partner." Liv held her by her shoulders.
"It wasn't a lie. I'd want to be here too. I'm getting a confession out of him, I can guarantee you that." This was the Olivia Benson that you didn't dare screw with. Nick and Cragen soon followed. Nick squeezed Gia's shoulder and nodded his head to Liv towards the door. She and Nick walked in and sat down.
"You two the A-Team then?" He said with a scoff. Gia stared at him. Reddish brown hair, brown eyes. He rolled his wide set jaw. It looked like his nose had been broken before. Other than that, there wasn't anything remarkable about him.
"Detective, do you recognize him at all from anything else?" Cragen asked, he was watching her closely.
"No." Her voice was quiet. "Other than the day at my apartment, I can't place him." Nick looked tense. Gia knew him. The way his jaw was set, the way he was clutching his fist. Nick wanted to tear him apart, but he was restraining himself so he didn't get pulled out. It was important to both him and Liv to see this up for her.
"You think you deserve the A-Team...uh...Brady Simpson?" Nick asked looking at his file. "Why is that? What makes you so special?"
"I just assumed since I almost choked out your bestie. I know how much she likes it." Rafael watched Gia closely. It would be easy to find out that she and Nick were close, all he would have had to do was watch her for a few weeks. But the choking comment? That was personal, too personal. She placed her hand on her throat again as she looked down. He knew what she was doing, she was searching her brain to see if she could place him. Cragen was still watching her carefully.
"Well, you just admitted to attacking an NYPD Detective. So thanks for that ." Nick shot back, his jaw set. "And that also means you're on the hook for four rapes and four murders."
Brady held up his finger. "You got me for one. You can't place me at any other ones"
"Well Brady, you raped and killed all of the women the same way. You think a Jury can't put that together? What you did to Alison is what you did to the three other women." Liv laid out four pictures infront of them." "You brutalized these women. But Brady, all we need is the one you just admitted to killing to put you away for life without parole." Olivia said.
"It won't be good enough for her. She'll want justice just like her bitch mother." Gia swallowed but didn't look up. Rafael felt his stomach drop. Gia was right, this was personal. He had hoped that comment about the choking had been a coincidence, but Gia was right, there were no coincidences here. He put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't pick her head up. She continued looking down, fidgeting with her hands.
"Where is Gigi? Let me guess, on the other side of the glass?" Her head shot up. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
"Are you sure you don't know him?" Cragen asked, looking confused.
"I don't, but he clearly knows me or someone that knows me really well." Rafael thought back to her counting the few people she allowed to call her Gigi. Her finger lingering on his chest.
"Enough about Gianna. Why? Why these women?" Liv demanded pointing to the pictures.
"I don't want to talk about them, I want to talk about Gigi."
"It's Detective Monroe." Nick slammed his hand on the table. "You wanna talk about her? Let's talk about how she dug the skin out of your arm so that if she died we could still find you. Or how she fought back against you and even when you were trying to squeeze the life out of her, she bashed you in your head with a heel, which gave us more blood. Or what about how she had that camera pointing to her door and caught you?"
"Yeah she got me, she's scrappy. But man did I love squeezing that pretty little neck. I marked her, I know I did. Tell me, how long did the bruises last?" Gia pressed her hand back on her throat. Who the hell was he? She closed her eyes.
"And I want to know about Sarah Guzman, Emma Hadley, Alison Bennett and Jessica Reigns." Liv pointed to the pictures. "Why them?
"I'm done talking to you two. Bring in Gigi or get me a lawyer."
"You know full well that she cannot interrogate you. That the confession would be thrown out."
"You bring her in here and I will plead guilty, no deal necessary. I'll even represent myself so no other lawyers have to be involved. Here give me the paper, I'll write out my confession right now." Nick and Liv looked surprised. They all stood there watching them write out the details of his crime. He confessed only to Alison's rape and murder as well as the attempted murder on Gia. Liv read over every detail, she looked over to the glass and nodded.
"No." Rafael said. "We have enough to put him away. There is not a single attorney that can get him out this. We do not need that confession."
"I don't care. He knows me. I need to know how." She turned to him with a desperate look. "I can't just walk away from this. He won't tell them."
"As much as I don't want you in that room, it's up to you. He's already confessed to your attack and Alison. It can't hurt our case against him now. All of this has been recorded so he can't lie about it." Cragen sighed. He didn't know if this was a great idea, but he couldn't let her not try to get some answers.
"I'm going in there." Cragen knocked on the window.
"There's our girl!" Brady was gleeful. Liv and Amaro stood and walked out of the room. When they shut the door, Nick looked at her.
"No, absolutely not. You're not going in there. He is psychotic. Gia, he is playing you. He tried to kill you. You want to sit across from him?!
"Can you two stop infantalizing me? I'm a cop, in case you forgot. I can handle myself when I'm not getting speared across my apartment." She looked between Nick and Barba.
"Gianna he is NOT worth it." Nick threw his arms up.
"It's her choice Nick." Cragen gave the final word and Nick was exasperated.
"You two can stay out here." She pointed to both Amaro and Barba. "Liv?"
"After you." Liv opened the door. She knew there was no talking her out of it. At least she wanted someone in with her. When Liv looked back, Rafael had his head in one hand and the other on his hip.
Gia felt her stomach bottom out and that familiar vice grip on her chest; but she wasn't going to let him see her falter. He had answers that she needed. She was just going to have to steel herself and take it.
"I was expecting you to come in with your fancy, what is it you call him "abogado." She rolled her eyes and sat down across from him.
"Congratulations, you've been following me. He's my friend. He has nothing to do with this."
"I think we both know it's a little more than that." He scoffed. "I've seen you with him. Walking arm in arm. You left Grayson, your favorite brother, to hide away with him. Have you let him touch you? Peel the clothes off your body?" He was taunting her.
"Alright, enough!" Liv finally snapped. "You asked for her to give us information. If you're not going to talk, I'm taking her out of here."
"So. Many. Protectors. Grayson, your two Cubans...who is she? A replacement for your cold and unfeeling Mommy?" Gia put her hand up before Liv Could say anything.
"Are you him?"
"Ummmm....him who?" He looked at her with cold eyes. She studied him, unable to place him anywhere in her mind.
"The one that killed Elizabeth." He sat back and stared her down. She had waited for this moment for her entire adult life. Now? She wasn't sure if she wanted it and she didn't know what to do with that.
"C'mon Gigi, think like a detective. When you dug my skin out of my arm, the DNA would have been a hit in that case. But maybe...maybe there were three of us and I was just smart enough to not leave DNA behind. Especially on a thirteen year old. Maybe I just knew your brother. There is one thing for certain, the monster that haunts you is still out there."
"Well, my brother left me twisting in the wind for years not telling me, after he died, I decided that I was okay not knowing. I accepted that fact. There are some things I can't control." She stood up. "So you...enjoy life in prison."
"I don't buy that for a second. You're a neurotic control freak, no way you let that go. It's why Gabe wouldn't tell you. Anyway, don't you want to know why I raped and killed all of those women?"
"It doesn't matter. That won't bring them back."
"It will keep you up at night for the rest of your life. You always have to know the answer, like a little pit bull."
"And you're a little boy bitch that is still doing my brother's bidding. She clapped slowly. "Congratulations."
"Oh Gigi-"
"Don't call me that." She snapped
"That's right, it's for only the chosen few. I was surprised you allowed Gabe to call you that. Listen, the answer to all of this is in that freak brain of yours. You just haven't shaked the middle puzzle piece free. It might also bring up some other things for you to solve. That's what makes this so fun. It's a never ending game."
"Ok, I'm done. We're done. You are pathetic and not worth my time. You know nothing about me or my life. I barely told Gabe anything. Following me around? Let you know who is in my life, but you know nothing about it beyond surface level information. And Gabriel's death set me free." His eyes widened at her last sentence. She headed towards the door. When he realized she wasn't coming back, he yelled as Gia walked out.
"YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO BE FREE GIGI. YOU'RE ALWAYS GOING TO BE LOOKING OVER YOUR SHOULDER." She slammed the door behind her.
"Are you-" before Cragen could finish his question, Gia ran over to the closest garbage can, squatted down and emptied the minimal contents of her stomach. Rafael was at her side immediately, checking on her. Nick went to get her water. Her entire body was shaking. Rafael had an arm around her waist to keep her from hitting the floor. She had her head in both of her hands.
"Breath." He commanded with rhe palm of his free hand splayed in the middle of her upper back. It took her a moment but she took in a deep breath. "Let it out." She exhaled. "Again." He demanded, and she acquiesced. Over and over until her breathing was normal and her whole body wasn't trembling. As Amaro came back, he watched with curiosity, the way Barba knew exactly what she needed, he knew exactly how to reach her. Barba helped her stand upright. While her body wasn't shaking as much but her hands were trembling. "C'mon, come sit down." He led her to the interview room to a chair. Nick and Cragen came in and shut the door. They didn't want him to see her when he was being taken out. She drank almost the entire bottle of water Nick handed her. He handed her some gum.
"I'm sorry." Her throat was sore. The wine she had drank while cooking burned coming back up.
"Detective, what do you have to apologize for?" Cragen sat across from her.
"Mostly the vomit." She shuddered while Cragen let out a little chuckle.
"Detective Monroe, believe me, I have seen worse. I'm going to check on Liv, you're in good hands here." She met his eyes. Every once in a while he would say something that made her think it was a shame that he didn't have children. She knew he wouldn't ask her about Barba. He would never bring it up to her.
Rafael could still see the slight tremble in her hands. "We should get you out of here."
"No." She shook her head. "I need to look at that board again."
"Gia- you are the bravest person I know to do what you just did. It was so upsetting you threw up. Now you want to torture yourself more? You don't have to do that tonight. You don't have to do it at all. He admitted to all of it." She jumped ups
"Yes I do. You heard everything he said. He knew things that only people that actually know me would be able to say. You want me to just let that go?! I can't! Go do your job Counselor, let me do mine." There was so much fear and anger inside of her she didn't know what to do with it, so she shot it at him again. He visibly flinched just slightly, which made her feel terrible. He stood up silently and walked out. "Raf..." her voice trailed off as the door shut a little harder than it normally would have. She drank the rest of the water.
"You wanna talk?" Nick finally asked after they sat in silence for a while.
"I'm an asshole. He didn't deserve that."
"He knows you didn't mean anything by that." Nick tried to brush it off.
"Nick, you don't understand. It wasn't my brother that put me back together. It was Rafael. He- I don't know. I don't know how to explain it, but he saved me. He didn't pressure me into being okay like Gray does. He gave me the space I needed to not be okay and then start to bounce back." Nick patted her hand.
"I think you're allowed a little grace here." He tried to reassure her, but she didn't look convinced. She wasn't accustomed to giving herself grace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gia was sitting infront of the board, waiting for inspiration to strike. This was all done for her benefit, there was a reason. She knew the key lies with Alison. Whatever was missing from her details would unlock what was missing in the other girls details. She knew so much about Alison. It was hard to figure out what details of her life were pertinent. She still thought another clue was somewhere with her mother.
She had asked everyone to go home. She appreciated their concern, but she needed the quiet. It felt like they were all staring at her waiting for answers to magically appear. She knew that wasn't the case, but the feeling remained. She had been sitting here for three hours. She should have left, it was pointless to continue to sit here, but the sound of his shoes made her realize why she hadn't left.
"Well, I'm done doing my job for now. You done with yours? Should I get two cars in case you abscond into the night again." Rafael's voice made her jump. She hasn't heard him come in. Surprisingly his tone was teasing and not angry.
"Okay, I admit that was dramatic and I'm sorry for the do your job comment."
"Don't apologize to me, please. You're entitled to have a moment. Also, I can appreciate a little drama. It was reckless though. How much worse would that have been if you bumped into him. What if he had gotten lose and gotten to you." She narrowed her eyes and pointed her pen at him.
"The guy who had a sexual sadist wrap a belt around his neck and basically said 'choke me daddy' doesn't get to call me reckless for jumping in an Uber before him." His face was priceless. They both started laughing.
"That's fair. C'mon, let's get out of here. If it hasn't come to you yet, you need a break. Maybe some unmedicated and nightmare free sleep might help?"
"Rafael, I have to go home sometime."
"But you don't have to tonight. C'mon. You need food. And you left my kitchen a mess." Which made her laugh again. He was glad, even if it took her mind off of everything for just a moment. He put his hand out and she placed her hand in his. She laced her fingers with his and let him lead her out of the precinct.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gia stood under the almost intolerably hot water pound against her skin. She had been in this shower for 35 minutes and she still didn't feel clean. She flicked the shower off. She opened the shower stall and wrapped herself in a towel. She took a towel to her hair, raked some curl cream through it and twisted it into a bun. She'd regret not doing her normal four step routine, but she was too tired to care.
After drying herself off and moisturizing, she threw on the burgundy tank top she was wearing before but switched her leggings out for her bicycle shorts. She picked up the towels and hung them up and made her way out of the bathroom.
Rafael was finishing up with the kitchen. She had tried to clean it up, but he shooed her out. She had been trying to do something nice for him. Then the evening was ruined by that phone call.
She had been there, in his arms, she was in a good place and it gave him courage to say or do something. He had been so close, he was almost sure that he wasn't imaging what was between them. There was always that little bit of doubt. He thought back to the night she was attacked, how close he had been to really kissing her, but instead kissed her cheek.
His doubts were almost completely removed when he saw the goosebumps explode across her skin when he touched her. The way her hand curled at the nape of his neck. The way she would lean into his touch. Tonight was the first time that she had ever pushed him away. His immediate reaction was to feel hurt, but reason took over. This had sent her spiraling.
That man had known so many intimate details about her. It made him sick to his stomach when he talked about how close Gia and Rafael had gotten. His boldness at calling her Gigi just to prove that he was connected to her and her brother. It was probably better Liv had been in that room and not him. He had thought about recusing himself, but that would have caused more questions than either of them were ready to answer. He didn't hear her walk into the kitchen with her bare feet. When she put her hand on his back he startled. He turned his head to the side to look at her. Her skin was tinged pink.
"Did you shower under lava?" He asked with a small smile.
"Just about. Want help?" He finished wiping down the counter.
"I'm all done. I got Chinese."
"I know. I have eyes and a nose."
"You're hilarious."
"You know I've been told that." He rolled his eyes. He turned around, leaning against the counter. His sleeves rolled up again, no tie, no suspenders. She was in the same opened back tank top and shorts. Her useless dream catcher tattoo on display again, her rose tattoo peeking at him as she walked back into the living room.
"How mad are you going to be when I tell you I can't eat. I still feel sick." He followed her into the living room.
"Not mad, just a little worried."
"You don't need to be worried. I'll be fine tomorrow. I just can't eat right now." She sat down in the middle of the couch, knowing he would sit next to her.
"I don't know how you sat there. You have much more self-control than I do. I wanted to jump through the glass"
"That is courtesy of my mother. Trust me, I wanted to smack that smirk off of his face. He got to me." She leaned forward to grab her water and she felt his fingers ghost over her tattoo again. She felt the same flutter in her stomach as before and she was covered in goosebumps again.
"Did it hurt?" he mused, wanting to give her something else to talk about to have a tiny reprieve.
"On my spine? Like a bitch."
"Why would you?"
"Because I'm clearly a masochist."
"You must be." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You spend all your time with me." He took a sip of his Scotch, his fingers slowly torturing her. She was fighting the urge to pull away, her spine was over sensitive. He smirked a little when he saw her twitch slightly. He knew he was driving her a little crazy and any other time he'd keep it up. Instead he rubbed her back with his palm. Not massaging, but trying to relax her. Even after a scalding hot shower she was tense. She inched just a little bit closer to him, he didn't even think she realized she had done it.
"Am I going to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life Raf? Why would this be happening if he didn't have something planned?" She asked the question she had been dying to ask him since they had been alone. Rafael knew exactly who the he she was talking about was.
"No." He was firm.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because you have many people watching your back, including me." He felt her lean into his hand.
"I know but I just feel this impending doom. I can't shake it."
"He wants you to feel that way. Your brother wanted you to feel that way too. So we know he knew your brother." He took another sip of Scotch. "We call his Warden in the morning. See if there were any other visitors. He obviously wasn't an inmate. We will figure it out, but-"
"I know. I can't live my life in worry. I'll feel better when he's behind bars. I'm just unsettled right now. He really plead guilty?" Rafael scoffed.
"He said it was worth it. The metric ton of evidence? No way he was getting acquitted. He had a public defender. I wasn't letting this go through without one, I didn't want to take any chances. He. He will serve 25 years for attempted murder, 25 for Alison's murder. He has the possibility of parole, but he will be an old man if he gets it. The public defender was decent and since he confessed willingly, I didn't want to take the chance of someone side eyeing it. You shouldn't have even been listening to the interrogation. If we didn't have a metric ton of evidence, I would have cuffed you to a chair." He saw a slight smirk start to form, he was waiting for a smart ass comment but then it was consumed by another thought."
"No allocution." She said. "Don't want him talking about what he did to me. I can't take listening to what he did to Alison. I mean, I know. He did the same thing to all of them. I just can't hear him say it out loud."
"You're sure?" He asked. She nodded. He set his glass down. "Okay, no allocution. You look exhausted, head to bed. I'm going to put the food in the fridge, get changed and then I'll be in."
"Yeah." She said and they both stood up. Before he walked into the kitchen she grabbed his hand. He looked back at her. "Raf...thank you, I..." he pulled her into a hug and she wrapped her arms around his torso. He was afraid she was going to cry, but she didn't. She had her ear to where his heart was. He was sure she could hear the pick up in his heart beat. He could stand in this position for the rest of his life. He didn't pull away, he would wait until she let go.
"You don't ever have to thank me. I care about you." She inhaled deeply before stepping back.
"I know Raf." She turned and headed to his room. He knew in that moment he'd wait for her to be ready, no matter how long it took. He also knew he'd do anything to protect her. He felt a fear seize over him for a moment, he had realized that he finally had something to lose.
Once he had changed, he headed into his room. Gia had put a sweatshirt on and was laying curled on her side of the bed all the way to the edge. It wasn't lost on him that she thought of it as her side of the bed. She normally placed herself closer to him. She was staring off at the wall and he watched as she wiped at her eyes. She had left the lamp on his side of the bed on, but had turned her's off. She probably thought that he wouldn't be able to see her. For the first time, in a long time, she was trying to hide what she was feeling. It came back to her not wanting to seem weak. He turned his light off and got into bed. He waited a few moments before he said anything. The lights from the city shined in the window and illuminated her form. He couldn't take the silence any longer.
"Don't push me away now."
"What are you talking about?" She feigned ignorance, which was annoying. He knew her. He didn't have to see her wipe a stray tear to know that this was absolutely wrecking her. She knew that he knew her.
"Are we really going to do this?" She sighed and he wasn't sure if it was in resignation or indignation. After a few moments she spoke.
"I'm sick of crying. I'm sick of me. I'm sick of me crying, so I cannot imagine how sick you are of me. He gaped at her.
"You could not possibly be any more wrong." He couldn't imagine ever getting sick of her. He craved her presence. She was always close, but never close enough. He could never stop himself from reaching out and touching her, but it was never in the way he truly wanted. She rolled over to face him, closer but still not close enough.
She studied his face, he assumed she was trying to decide if she believed him. She had this constant fear of being a burden. He assumed it was another gift bestowed upon her by her mother. He didn't know how he would contain how much he disliked that woman if he ever met her. She must have decided she did because she moved closer to him. He put his hand on the side of her face and as she always did, she leaned into it.
"You can scream, cry, rage, I don't care. Just don't shut down. Holding all of that in is the problem, not letting it out."
"I know. I just feel like I'm just be dramatic- don't, I know. It just feels that way. I don't usually get like this." She could see him roll his eyes.
"Pretty sure this is not a normal situation."
"What?!" She feigned shock. Rafael couldn't help but laugh. He felt her smile against his hand. She scooted closer to him and let him wrap his arms around her. She closed the remaining space and put her chin on his shoulder.
"I feel frozen Raf." She finally admitted.
"I know it feels like that, but you're not. Not even close. You are free Gia. They aren't." He felt her nod. She moved away slightly so she could roll over. She had to sleep facing out, never in. He kept his arms around her even after she fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How is she?" Liv asked Rafael as soon as he was in her eyeline. Apparently Liv was no longer going to pretend that she didn't know Gia was basically living with him for the time being. It was kind of a relief.
"Good morning to you too Liv. She's...okay. Better than I thought she would be actually."
"Rafael, I have to ask, what that Brady kid said about the two of you-" He cut her off before she could finish.
"No, Liv. No. I know what he said and nothing like that has happened. Do you really think that little of me? With what she's been through? How she's been, I would never." He was hurt. That Olivia would even entertain the thought for a single moment. She let out the breath he had been holding.
"I'm sorry. I had to ask. Everything that he knew? I wanted to be the one that asked, in case someone looked into exactly what he said. The look on her face, it was like she had seen a ghost." He dropped his defenses.
"That's why I didn't recuse. I would have to tell the DA why and I would like to avoid that for her. And she looked like she had seen a ghost because she had- of her brother, her friends...her own. He knows things about her that no one knows with the exception of a few people. The choking was personal. She's claustrophobic. Her brother Gabe used to torture her by choking her from behind, locking her into tiny spaces, he didn't until Grayson caught him and beat the shit out of him." Liv wasn't surprised at the intimate details Rafael knew. He had been the first person Gia had really told anything real about herself to. To share your deepest fear was just another example of their shared bond.
"Poor Gia. Oh my God...all of this was deliberate. This case started right after her brother died."
"I see her holding her neck and I want to..." his voice trailed off.
"Yeah, you're not the only one. The fact that Nick didn't rip his head right off was actually impressive."
"Is he going to show up here to question me?" Rafael quipped.
"No Barba, no one in that squadroom believed it. I'm just trying to protect her and you."
"Which would infuriate her." Rafael laughed and shook his head.
"Oh I know. Listen I am sorry..."
"It's okay. I get it. I'm just on edge. She's afraid she really is going to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life."
"That's not happening. Eventually this kid will want something. Better accommodations, safer prison and I will be there to find out who that third person was and arrest him myself."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gia sat across from him at the visitor's room at Rikers. Brady Simpson was definitely looking less smug. Apparently word had gotten around that he tried to kill a cop. It may have had something to do with the phone call she made the night prior. She had connections and she wanted him to be hurting just a little bit.
"Didn't get enough of me yesterday?" He tried to sound arrogant, but he sounded scared. He clearly thought this was going to be easier.
"Oh I wanted to have this conversation without my Captain around. I see you had an enjoyable first evening here. Now, this can go one of two ways. You tell me what I want to know or I will make sure they drop you in the deepest darkest hole that they can find in the place. I have friends too Brady. Mine are much more powerful than yours." He stared at her for a moment, letting the words she spoke settle in. She had outsmarted him.
"What do you want to know?" He slumped in his chair.
"Let's start with something easy. How did you get into my apartment?" There was not a single hole in that building he could have crawled into. She had searched. Security had searched. No one could figure it out.
"The apartment below. They were having work done and I came in with the workers. Rich people are weirdly trusting. I climbed from their terrace onto yours and waited." She would definitely be checking the traffic cams for that. It hadn't occurred to her to check the street cams that would might show the back upper level.
"Who was the target Brady? Me or Alison?" She had a checklist in her mind that was leading up to the biggest one.
"It was always Alison. You were supposed to find her. She put up too much of a fight and I couldn't get out of there in time." She said a silent prayer to her lost friend. She had put up a fight. Like Gia, she was desperate to at least leave something behind for the police to find.
"Why the other 3 victims? How are they connected to Alison? To me?" He laughed.
"They aren't. I just wanted you to think they were, to drive you crazy. It was just about opportunity with the first three. The only thing I made sure of was that there was absolutely no overlap in their lives." It led to what she had been thinking yesterday, but had kept it to herself. This whole thing was meant to psychologically mind fuck her.
"Why? How do you even know me, or my brother? I have never seen you before." He sat quietly. "I meant what I said."
"You're going to get me killed." She raised an eyebrow at him.
"So you're looking towards the future. To your parole in 50 years. You want to make it out alive. A lot of inmates ruin their chances at parole." The implication hit home. She didn't think he could deflate anymore than he already had.
"Why do you think I plead guilty? To save myself." He certainly was a cockroach. "I have a friend who knew your brother. And when I say friend, it's a friend of a friend and I owed that friend a lot of money. Bottom of the Atlantic kind of money. I could be square if I did what they asked. They gave me all of the background info, all of the things they found out about you from your brother before he died. Then I followed you, to get more info to make you think I was connected to the case. You and that lawyer guy? You think you're not being obvious, but you are. It's gross." She knew it. This kid didn't know jack shit about her in all reality. There was no way there was a 3rd person involved. As much as it pained her, she felt the need to defend herself.
"There is nothing going on between us. He's a friend." He exaggerated an eye roll.
"Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night." He held his hands up. "I just said it to mess with you, but it clearly hit a nerve." He was trying to distract her from what she wanted to know.
"So to be clear, you raped and murdered four women because you owned someone money? You were ok with life in prison." It had to be an insane amount of money. She didn't want to know how he got in that deep. She didn't care about him enough.
"There would have been no evidence if you hadn't shown up. Any other questions?" He was right about that. He knew how to wipe a crime scene.
"I want a name Brady." She was firm.
"I can't give you one. There is nothing that anyone in this place that can do to me that is worse than what he would do." That surprised her, she tried to not let it register on her face. He wanted the last years of his life to be outside of this place.
"The friend of the friend?"
"Yeah." She knew she was at the end of the information he could give her.
"Can you give me an educated guess on who his friend is?"
"Someone your brother met when in prison I think. He did it for him." He was done. She could tell that he was done and she didn't want to spend another second across from him.
"If I find out you're lying, you'll wish you were dead. I will make sure you're begging for that friend to get their hands on you." She must have looked serious because fear registered on his face. She stood up and signaled to the guard to let her out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You went to Rikers, by yourself?!" Barba raged. The sheer audacity of this woman was sometimes too much. He never knew what was going to come out of her mouth or what she was going to do.
"Yeah Cragen wasn't too excited about it either. Though marginally more than you." She knew he was going to be mad, but not this mad. It's not like she met him in a back alley.
"This isn't funny Gia. Do you know how dangerous that could have been?" When she rolled her eyes at him he wanted to roll them right back. He had almost forgotten this side of her, so part of him was thrilled to see it again.
"Okay take a breath. First of all, there was an armed guard two feet away and he was handcuffed. He was bloody a bruised. And by the way, Counselor, the only reasons he took me out before was because he got me by surprise."
"He was beat up?" She scoffed. They all really underestimated her. It was a little frustrating.
"Uh yeah Raf. I don't think you realize the connections I have or the friends that I have. Besides the fact that he raped and killed four women. There are inmates that don't take kindly to violence against women. Also, he attacked and tried to kill a cop. A cop who spent over a decade visiting her death row inmate of a brother and met countless COs. Many connections who know my father or who know my mother. He's lucky he could walk. Believe me, they held back."
"Okay I didn't hear that." She watched his jaw roll. She kind of loved seeing him get worked up but she didn't want to worry him.
"I had to do something." She finally said.
"If you had given it time, we could have gotten it legally. She would have wanted something eventually." He didn't know why he was trying to reason with her at this point. It was already done.
"Did you listen to ANYTHING that I said? He never would have said any of that on the record. He's too scared of someone. I couldn't wait for eventually. I needed to know and I needed to take back control of my life." Rafael deflated and threw his pen down.
"I wish you would have at least told me." He said quietly.
"So you could have called Liv or Cragen? Tried to go with me? No, I couldn't follow the rules this time. I couldn't take that chance. I had to get that information. He also gave me a place to look."
"Look? Look for what? You're not going to find out who it was. You promised me you wouldn't obsess over it."
"I-I won't. I just put some feelers out. If something shakes loose about this friend, I'll pursue it. If not, I'm letting it go." He gave her a sardonic look. "Rafael, I promise you." He nodded, relenting.
"How much trouble are you in with Cragen?" He didn't want her to get suspended over this. He knew she was itching to get back to work. He assumed she got a stern warning, but you never could predict.
"None, actually. I mean he was pissed but I think he was also a little impressed." Rafael rolled his eyes this time.
"Let's not make this a regular thing, okay? The lying and going behind everyone's backs." Gia picked up his pen and threw it at him. She did seem better. She seemed to believe what the kid had said.
"Gia, it's not that I don't think you can handle yourself. I know you can. I just got a small taste of what life would be like without you around. And it was..." he trailed off. "Maybe just go easy on everyone and me, just for a little while." His confession hit her, hard. She hadn't thought or it that way.
"Rafael...I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that. This didn't register on my radar as dangerous."
"Normally it wouldn't on mine either. I watched a video of him trying to kill you. So did the squad. The idea of that animal within a sniffing distance of you is too much." She nodded.
"Listen, I'm gonna go. I'll let you get back to work. I just didn't want Liv to rat me out before I saw you later." He raised his eyebrows at her. She continued to say she needed to go back home, but he knew she didn't want to. He knew it was more about being alone in that apartment than being with him.
"So I'll be seeing you later?" He saw her face falter slightly.
"Unless you don't-"
"Can we stop pretending like we don't want to see each other later?" She blinked rapidly at him, not expecting him to be so direct.
"Yeah, I think we can." The pink in her cheeks gave him satisfaction.
"What are you going to do for the rest of the day?"
"Well, I have to call Menudo and let him know you didn't murder me. He was surprisingly less mad than I expected. I think Fin was impressed with my prison cred." She grinned at him, wanting to remove the heaviness of the conversation.
"Jesus Christ....you don't need any encouragement." She laughed.
"Then I have to call Grayson and fill him in. Which will be a super fun call. I wanted more information before I called him. He'll yell at me for not calling my mother, I'll then tell him to fuck off. He will then make me feel guilty for not calling my father, which will lead to a little bit of day drinking and some bad TV. Oh! And find a video of that fool scaling my building because I have to see it."
"Maybe skip the day drinking." He suggested.
"I didn't say day drunk. Just believe me, a call like that with my brother requires a little alcohol after. He will never accept that my relationship with my parents is not the same as his." Gia shrugged.
"Well I was thinking we could do something later, so I was hoping you'd be sober." She snickered at the return of his sardonic tone.
"Would you settle for maybe a teeny bit buzzed?" She pinched her two fingers together. At first, he was afraid she was pink clouding, but she was just feeling relieved. She had some sort of closure. She raised her eyebrows waiting for him to answer.
"At least do it with something of quality and not cheap wine coolers." She laughed and stood up.
"Deal Counselor." She walked over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in a couple of hours." She said in her way out.
"Gigi-" he called to her and she turned, "Good luck with Grayson. Don't let him make you feel guilty. I'll see you soon. She nodded and shut the door behind her as she left.
He felt a little stunned. The day had taken a turn in a direction he wasn't expecting. Chaos. Was all that popped into his mind. Yet he couldn't get over the kiss on the cheek. It was nothing, it was like it was a habit. Something she did every day. She was chaos and he was in trouble.
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ceasarslegion · 5 months ago
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I have not heard (or don't remember) the tiered DNI story I am begging you to share
So there was this girl in our half life roleplay group of sideblogs who had a DNI list the length of manhattan with two separate tiers: what she termed "yellow flags" and "red flags."
According to this list, if you met 3 "yellow flags," you weren't allowed to interact. If you met 1 "red flag," you weren't allowed to interact.
Already... a lot. I wasn't really friends with her, she was just in the roleplayers discord server at the same time as me and I called her out on her bullshit a few times. Because she was the type of autistic adult who used her autism as an excuse to self-infantilize and act like the world had to hand her everything with no effort made of her own to get better with certain things. She once claimed her parents were abusive for... making her wait in line for a new phone. Another time, her parents were abusive for... not charging HER switch so that she could sit outside of her sibling's music recital and play video games. Worth noting that she didn't even try to sit in, she just assumed she couldn't, threw a fit when her parents asked her to like, try to go, and then sat outside the doors and complained to us that her parents were abusive for not charging HER switch before they left.
She was a grown-ass adult too btw. She was also super sex-negative, like she asked for the role to go into the nsfw channel and then complained that there was sex in it. And then we were like "WHAT DID YOU THINK THERE WOULD BE???" and she was like "i just wanted it for the sex jokes but you guys are being horny degenerates in here >:((." One time i put in the vent channel that i smashed a giant spider and sent a photo of how big it was in and then she started vagueing about me IN THE SAME SERVER saying that I was a piece of shit ableist for giving her a panic attack on purpose. Never once did she communicate that spiders triggered her, she just wanted me to read her mind about it and then claim that i did it on purpose.
More related to the DNI, she once voiced that she was glad to see that harry potter was on the banned book shelf at the book store and i had to explain in simple words that banning books still isn't good when it's harry potter. She didn't really understand until i said that the reason HP gets banned is because of evangelical satanic panic types complaining about "black magic," and not because of any of JKR's actions. Which implies to me at least that she has an acceptable standard of when it's okay to ban certain media. Worth noting that she was a massive FNAF fan so, rules for thee but not for me ass person.
She pissed me off a LOT as an autistic adult who does a lot of work to affirm to people that we are not children and can handle big kid topics and don't need our hands held and are our own independent beings. Like girl you are setting us back years
So her DNI list... left something to be desired. It seemed that most of it was just based on vibes rather than any sort of material reality. If you were a Beastars fan it was a red flag, but if you were a republican it was a yellow flag. If you read certain books or liked certain shows it was a red flag, if you followed a certain blog it was a red flag, but if you straight up voted conservative you got 2 more strikes until she would block you. Girl what the fuck are you talking about
You may notice I have a beastars icon. I would talk about beastars openly in the server in front of her knowing it was on her "DNFI" list anyway because ma'am, it's a fucking furry anime, it's not going to bite you. She never said anything to me because she was, in reality, a bit of a coward who talked a big game on the internet but when it came to actually putting the bite behind all her barking, she would send strongly worded emails to people in her own house about some side comment they made that she was annoyed by instead of confronting them about it (real example btw, thats how she interacted with her own father after he told her that random strangers twitter threads are not reliable sources no matter who they claimed to be online)
She also started calling herself a sex-repulsed ace after a good long while of straight-up sex negative shaming of others for engaging in sex in the dedicated sex channel that no one was forced to go into. This gave all of us, including the aces of the server, big red flags. I felt weird about saying I didn't believe her out loud as a non-ace, so I asked my sex-repulsed ace best friend and she told me "no that's bullshit, she's just an evangelical. Sex-repulsion is your own preference, not what you project onto what other people do."
The crazy thing is, she wasn't even huge drama compared to what else went on in that server in the early days before the worst people blew up and left. She was like a b-plot we barely noticed compared to Hickory and Caroline, who I will actually give the aliases of because they are no longer active on tumblr, and the person I'm talking about is. If you want those stories too, you can ask, but I might take a few days to get back to you again lmao
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yuseirra · 4 months ago
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How Japanese Mythology Supports Aqua's Logic(and his final decision)
-The lore behind Amaterasu & Sarutahiko-
In short, Ruby and Hikaru aren't entities that could coexist and Ruby's been sent to replace her father. That's what's really been going on.
Earlier, I'd written another post on Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko's relationship and how it was incorporated/interpreted in two different media (Pheonix: Dawn and Oshi no Ko)
I'm very serious and pretty sure about my analyses on this one, it DOES explain a lot of things and helps you understand some of the really weird stuff that leaves you confused regarding this manga.
I mean, it's the only way to explain the weird things that'd been happening around Kamiki for one thing. We have a Japanese god of light that directs the future who grants wishes along with his wife? and we even have his shrine appear in the series and that god is said to have drowned & fallen in love with his wife at first sight who's the god of entertainment, they wed on the spot and had children together but aren't married officially, and he guided Amaterasu's grandchild.
So what else is that guy even supposed to be??? You have to look at the myths with this one!
and the interesting thing is,
If you look at the myths, you can actually understand why Aqua decided to get rid of his dad (go as far as killing him) for Ruby's future.
Because that's what happened in the myths!!
It's just fun to see and understand the story in a different light... even if this wasn't exactly what the author themselves were going for- but this story shares TOO much in common with those myths. There is no way it isn't-
I feel this may be some food for thought.
If you can understand something better, then you can form better opinions and judgments on said subject. And I'd been struggling so much about this work... it doesn't mean I like the ending (it was something I did not like, it was very cruel on the characters, and I don't express my discomfort about a piece of work so much but I did that a lot with this one) but if you look at it this way, at least the author was being true to the myths; and you can give this work pretty high points on that and feel less frustrated about how everything was so crazy in the end.
With that being said, let's jump in.
In this manga, there are quite a few characters who correspond to figures in mythology.
Amaterasu → Ruby
Susanoo → Aqua
Ame-no-Uzume → Ai
Sarutahiko → Kamiki
I’m fairly certain about these parallels(and I won’t go into detail on why, since I’ve written about it extensively before).
Now… this manga seems to contain a lot of homages to the Tenson Kōrin myth (the descent of the heavenly grandchild). The Aratate Shrine that appears in the story is also the place where, according to the myth, Ame-no-Uzume met Sarutahiko, the two got married, and they built a home together.
As for that part of the myth, based on cross-referencing academic papers and other sources, it appears to have been a narrative device used to justify replacing indigenous beliefs with the ruling power’s religious system.
I’ve mentioned this in previous posts as well, but Sarutahiko was originally a native solar deity and a supreme god of sorts. However, when the Amaterasu-worshipping faction unified the region, they diminished his status and influence.
What’s particularly interesting is that they rationalized this transition through Ame-no-Uzume.
I looked into it, and it turns out that even Ame-no-Uzume herself isn’t purely a native Japanese deity—rather, she’s thought to be a modified version of a Hindu goddess that was introduced later. Her origins trace back to Ushas, the goddess of dawn, who also appears in the Webtoon Kubera. Since she’s a dawn goddess, her hair color here is depicted as a beautiful, dawn-like hue.
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Doesn’t Ai’s hair color give off a similar vibe? :) In some color illustrations of Ai, her hair appears as a mix of navy, pink, and purple tones, evoking a night-to-dawn transition. She’s also referred to as the reincarnation of the morning star, and her eyes contain stars.
Anyway, moving on—
Ame-no-Uzume, this goddess, seduces Sarutahiko, who was a local earth-light deity (originally a solar god), and lures him into yielding his influence to Ninigi, the descendant of Amaterasu.
And since he falls for her, he agrees. The two get married, settle down in the region (at what is now Aratate Shrine), and live well together. But then, out of nowhere, Sarutahiko is said to have drowned while out fishing.
I actually checked the Kojiki in its original English translation, and the myth continues straight into that incident; it was quite abrupt.
There are also accounts that say they had children together (I’ve come across this often—some families even claim descent from them). There are shrines dedicated to both of them, and during festivals, people wear masks representing the two deities, suggesting they were honored together. So it’s unclear whether Sarutahiko truly "died" or if the story just implies a power shift.
In some tourist guides, I even read that under Amaterasu, the two deities act as agents maintaining the world’s balance between yin and yang.
At any rate, in mythology, when a god steps down and then “dies”, it typically symbolizes the decline of the faction that worshiped them and the rise of a new ruling power—something that’s well-documented in Wikipedia articles and academic papers.
And of course, this isn’t exclusive to Japanese mythology.
In ancient times, religious beliefs were often tied to governance, and I remember reading a book about an Egyptian king who established Horus as the supreme deity to use in a similar manner.
And from what I recall, even in a Korean mythology book for children, the Dangun myth was explained this way.
The story of the bear and the tiger was presented as an allegory for the struggle between two tribes: the bear tribe and the tiger tribe. The book stated that the myth reflected how the bear tribe drove out the tiger tribe.
So, in summary, the relationship between Amaterasu and Sarutahiko follows the same pattern.
Looking back at the manga’s ending, I think this interpretation holds up.
Toward the climax, the conflict between Kamiki and Ruby was highlighted, wasn’t it? Aqua even said, “You tried to kill Ruby, didn’t you?” And Kamiki’s approach toward Ruby felt somewhat ominous.
Sarutahiko = Kamiki is an undeniable parallel. After thoroughly analyzing the manga, I can’t see it any other way. I probably started talking about this around July… I’ve been saying this for ages...
And Ruby is obviously Amaterasu.
For Ruby to shine, the former sun god—Kamiki—must disappear. Just as Aqua said.
The two of them likely couldn’t coexist.
Once Amaterasu emerges, Sarutahiko must drown. He has to step aside.
But in this case, they’re biologically father and daughter… So what kind of relationship could they have had? Could they have gotten along better somehow?
Looking at the story, Ruby was a being born with a mission, and Aqua’s role was to protect her until she could shine safely. His duty was essentially to assist her. That means Kamiki, who posed an obstacle, had to be removed.
Why did Amaterasu—Ruby—have to be born in the first place? Likely because Kamiki, in his current state, could no longer fulfill the role of the sun god. That’s how I interpret it.
Ruby was chosen before Ai’s death. That means Aqua’s original mission couldn’t have been to kill the one who he "thought" had harmed Ai—Back then, Ai was still alive and well.
And if Kamiki really was searching for individuals who could surpass Ai, that must have been after Ai’s death.
While Ai was alive, he had no reason to do that. But once she died, circumstances changed, and suddenly, there comes forth a reasoning for him to have to disappear—for Ruby’s future, for he eventually becomes a threat towards Ruby on that same logic. This would not have happened if Ai never passed, and that isn't what Kamiki ever wanted, either. He always wanted her to live?? He didn't feel alive after she was gone??
Was this Tsukuyomi's doing, or what? She's the one that has to do with "fate".
The people who died around Kamiki before this didn’t seem to have the star eyes, but perhaps his future-altering/guiding abilities became twisted, causing constant problems. Did Ai die as a result of that? Personally, I'm guessing that's what's really happened but;
Anyway, Aqua’s mission being related to Ruby rather than Ai was logical and inevitable from a timeline perspective.
But Ai wanted to help Kamiki, saying he had lost his way—together with their children?
That’s because Ai was meant to be his godly spouse. But… it seems like the other gods gave up on Kamiki;;
Or maybe they quickly tried to sort things out by assigning new roles to Ai’s children and those around her?
Sarutahiko is in fact, described as a dual-natured god—one who can be either truly good or turn into a complete monster, swinging between extremes.
But no matter what, I don’t think he would have harmed his wife… On the contrary, he seemed to be deeply devoted to her. It could even be said that he gave everything up for her.
If you look at the myths, this god, he surrenders his position, stepped aside, and even “died" to be with his wife. That makes a good parallel with what Kamiki does in this story as well.
Since the mythology was structured in a way where he could never defeat Amaterasu, that was the natural conclusion. But at least he gained a beautiful wife he fell for at first sight—so in a way, things worked out, lol.
If he were to truly fall into darkness, it'd be because of his wife's death. What else could it be?
Kamiki’s goal was always to do something for Ai—that much is certain.
Reading the myth again, Fatal and Mephisto’s lyrics hit differently. They feel exactly like the thoughts of someone who lost the person they cherished most. Those songs are loaded with longing and they have these weird stuff about stars and wishes and sacrifices and- it's not what a normal human being would sing, that's why I thought it'd have to do with the idea of gods, but the one who sings it seems to be Hikaru,
And Ame-no-Uzume’s personality is just like Ai’s.
Their stories flow seamlessly into Ai and Kamiki’s!!
I think that's what this story is saying!
The topic drifted a bit, but while Kamiki and Ruby did meet as father and daughter... I feel like, by fate, their relationship was one where if one existed, the other had to die or disappear. The conclusion I reached is that Ruby was sent as an upgraded replacement of Kamiki.
In the story, Ruby is ultimately depicted as an enhanced version of Ai (whether that depiction is realistic or not), but in truth, as a solar deity, she is actually more closely connected to her father than her mother. She is even someone who could potentially replace him.
I think I’ve analyzed something similar before.
Ruby is a "one-shot, two-kills" existence. She is a divine being that can replace both parents—both gods of the entertainment industry—through her alone. Ai is important, of course, but at the core, Ruby is someone who can fundamentally replace Kamiki.
She has the role of a goddess of entertainment/an idol and the role of a solar deity who emits light. Because of this, she is such an important figure, and that’s why Aqua was used under the pretense of protecting her. I remember feeling so cold when Tsukuyomi cried—like, weren’t the gods the ones who used Aqua as a chess piece? They took a soul, fully exploited it, killed it twice, and now they’re crying? His father told Aqua to go back and live. I don’t think that was hypocrisy—I genuinely believe he meant it.
But Aqua’s mission was what it was, so he gave up on that path. There’s no other reason for him to have done so.
I mean, couldn't they have done something about Kamiki? Why were the gods unable to intervene with him? Isn’t everything that happened because they gave up on him? If there’s a god causing problems, shouldn’t they go directly to that god and stop them? Why instead did they exploit an innocent soul, force a mission onto him, make him suffer, and then let him die? It’s a complete disaster. What are the gods even doing in this story? It seems like they’re doing a lot, but in reality, they achieve nothing.
And Kamiki… he’s just a mad god who wants to see his wife again, isn’t he? He must have had some powerful force within him, but what did they do while he was losing his mind? Just stood by and watched?
If gods of other domains can’t interfere in the entertainment industry, then maybe that’s why they threw the responsibility onto their children, like, "Your parents made a mess—go clean it up." But still, was Kamiki really beyond salvation from the start? When Ai and Kamiki were struggling to live, what were the gods doing? Just watching like, "Oh, they went down to become humans and caused trouble. That’s on them."
In the end, though, all of this thinking might be meaningless… Only the authors truly know, and maybe they didn’t even think that deeply about it.
To summarize, looking at the dynamic between Ruby and Kamiki through the lens of gods shifting positions in mythology is quite interesting. What really frustrates me is that around July or August, I had already suspected Kamiki might be related to Sarutahiko…
But I completely failed to catch the part about that god drowning until Kamiki actually fell into the water. If I had realized that earlier, I might have figured out how this manga—or at least this character—was going to end. I could have predicted it. Then I wouldn’t have been so shocked when the story unfolded. Even so, I probably wouldn’t have predicted Aqua dying, but… why did Aqua have to die? Even now, I still think that ending was utterly foolish and miserable—for both of them.
Not that I ever imagined Kamiki ending up in prison, either. I could never quite picture that. But I did think he would die. I mean, what was left for him in life? The only time he was ever happy was the brief period he lived with Ai.
And for someone with a life like that, his personality was incredibly good. How was he able to act the way he did despite everything? I don’t think he would have become this way if Ai had been alive. That’s just my perspective, I could be wrong. But if he had lived with Ai… I don’t think he would have been evil at all. He looked happy. Even when he was being mistreated, he never showed resentment toward others. He still actually never does. He's in grief and he's always so condescending about himself, but he can't stop because he's desperate to see Ai again, that's what it is.
That’s why it bothers me so much. Is this really right? Should things have ended this way?
And when I wonder what message the author is trying to convey with this ending, my thoughts keep going back to what I mentioned earlier—the story of the entertainment gods.
The conclusion of this manga, as presented in the final chapter, feels like something that could have worked if the stakes were much lower. If it had been just about Ruby temporarily losing her dream due to a personal setback—like breaking her leg—and then overcoming it, that would have made for a touching ending.
But people died. The weight of the themes and events in this manga is incredibly heavy, yet the story just brushes over it and tries to wrap things up like it's nothing? That’s why it’s so baffling.
If that’s all the story wanted to do, it could have just focused on Ruby’s clumsy yet determined idol journey—overcoming conflicts with friends, personal struggles, and the pain of connecting with fans while still pushing forward. That kind of ending would have been heartwarming.
But her twin brother just died in a double suicide with their biological father (Actually, no, he plain murdered his dad!). Their mother died. This isn’t something that can be handled so blunt. If a story is going to tackle such themes, it needs to handle them with more care and responsibility.
The last few paragraphs came from a conversation I had with a friend, and they’re really on point. The final chapter’s message isn’t entirely meaningless, but it felt like the story was just abandoned halfway through.
I can somewhat understand why the author did this and what they were thinking when they wrote it, which honestly just makes it more frustrating.
I can’t, even as a formality, say that this was well done, and that’s what’s so disappointing. Because I know it could have been done better. The author isn’t incapable—they clearly have the ability. This series became incredibly popular, the characters were crafted so well—that’s real talent. So many people loved and supported this story. I’ve even thought that I’d like to write something that resonates with readers in the same way.
To some extent, making a story digestible and acceptable to the audience is a form of consideration for them. This work failed to do so in a lot of ways. Of course, an author should be able to write freely, however they want.
But the themes and materials they chose were far too intense and serious for the conclusion they ultimately gave. That’s what I wish they had taken responsibility for. Because watching it all unfold was genuinely painful. It was incredibly upsetting.
It does follow the myths really well though... so if you look at things from that particular perspective, you could sort of see why they made this choice as a story.
Makes you go, 'oh... so it was this!' and I think that does matter a little for me. Looking at myths and finding connections's been pretty fun too. Hope this makes a enjoyable read for someone else too~
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topazadine · 9 months ago
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How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)
Estimated Reading Time: 7 minutes
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I've shared some tools before to help improve your speed and motivation, which include:
Using a word count spreadsheet
Working on only one WIP at a time
Leverage StimuWrite and Cold Turkey
.... but I still have a few more tricks, which I'll share now.
Why should you listen to me? I've written over 2 million words of fiction since 2021. That's a lot, more than many people write in a lifetime.
This is despite the fact that I also write 22,000 words every week for my day job. I do around 10k of creative fiction a week. And there's also the time I spend writing these articles for you, the lovely people of Tumblr, which is around 4-5k per week.
So, all told, I probably do around 37,000 words (creative, informative, and otherwise) every single week.
I did that by following these tips.
Separate the work into stages.
First, let's outline the stages of work (or at least the stages I use). You may have a different setup, and that's fine - if you do have a system that works for you, then you probably don't need my post at all. Keep doing what you're doing and ignore my advice.
But if you do not have a system, consider mentally separating things into these parts.
Active Writing. When I am busy doing the draft. It is both the most precarious and productive time; everything else related to books goes on the backburner. I am doing nothing writing-related but writing. No discussing the work unless I'm stuck somewhere, no making moodboards, NOTHING. This is my sacred time when I am in the thick of things and I put Writing Blinders on.
Percolation. I am done with the first draft. I set the piece aside and do other things like reading other novels, outlining another story, answering tag games, playing with moodboards, or putting everything aside and focusing on other hobbies. This is so I can come back to revisions with a fresh set of eyes. It keeps the story in my mind and can even help me discover new things I want to add.
Revision. After I have had a beta reader check things out, I go back and start fixing things. Then it percolates again. I repeat percolating and revising as many times as I feel necessary. Many times, I will have one beta reader look at it, then revise, and then have another beta reader look at it, each one getting a slightly different version of the story so I can compare what they liked or disliked.
Prepublishing. Most authors' least favorite part: marketing and telling people about your book so that they want to read it when it is ready. That includes stuff like making mood boards, doing tag games, sending out ARCs, setting up adds, posting on social media, and so on.
Again, ONE STEP AT A TIME. Do not blend all of these into a slurry.
I will say that this time around, with Pride Before a Fall, I ordered the cover before I was done with the book because I had a very clear vision of what I wanted.
Talk less, write more.
This is similar to the problem I highlighted in my Double Outlining post; the more you talk about your story, the more you trick your brain into thinking that you've done the work when you categorically have not.
Plus, the time you spend talking about your book is time you spend not writing your book. We can't do both simultaneously.
I don't really talk about my stories while I'm doing them, not even with my family. I may post a line or two, and I may tell people the basic plot, but I'm not spending hours discussing them with anyone unless I need advice on what to do next. Even then, it's more like "hey what do you think about this? Good? Cool, off I go."
Please get out of the habit of exhaustively picking apart your work with other people during the Active Writing stage. That can come during the Percolating and Revising stages.
Devote all your love and attention to one story.
Yes, I've mentioned this in a whole entire post, but I need to emphasize just how important it is to write stories one at a time. Working on a million things at once is not efficient; it's scatterbrained.
Force yourself to do ONE story. Just one. Not two or three or five. ONE.
Again, I've written 132 stories on AO3 (two of which are 100k+, multiple of which are 50k+), published one book, and written 5 of the upcoming manuscripts for the 10-part Eirenic Verses series. I am a very productive writer, and that is because I do everything one at a time.
Don't tell yourself "oh, I can get more done if I do a little bit on this one and that one and that one."
Can a chess player win three games of chess if they play all of them simultaneously? Uh, probably not. Each of their opponents is devoting everything to one game while their concentration is split between three different boards.
And you're not going to win either if you're playing twenty games of Write the Book simultaneously.
Do not mess around with moodboards, tag games, character questionnaires, playlists, etc, during Active Writing.
I discussed this in my Extremely Controversial Writing Opinions, but it bears repeating.
Do all of that stuff later, after you are done, as a marketing tool. It's procrastination, plain and simple.
Any time I get sucked into tag games or moodboards while writing, I get less done because I'm devoting time and energy to something that doesn't actually enhance my book.
It's one thing to do character questionnaires while you're figuring out a character, but quite another to stop what you're doing and tell everyone what your character's favorite food is.
Is that helping you get the project done? No, it is not. Log out of Canva. Turn on Cold Turkey to block Tumblr or Twitter. Leave that stuff alone.
Read short stories.
You know you need to read to become a good writer, but taking hours out of your day to read a novel while you're drafting your own novel can take away from your writing process.
That's not to say you shouldn't ever read novels, of course, but you can do that while you're in between projects.
During my active writing phase, I like to read a short story before I get started on working. This gives me inspiration and primes my creative pump so I'm excited to do my best.
Reading short stories also helps me focus on brevity rather than long-winded diatribes, which lets me pack more into a story.
Don't reread your work during Active Writing.
It's easy to get sucked into rereading and then not get anything new done; plus, this makes you want to revise, which should come later.
Reread only as much as you need to fix plot holes or remind yourself of where you're going. Refusing to reread also lets you look at your work with fresh eyes during revisions.
Make a writing ritual.
You need to tell your brain that it is writing time. This could be anything, like brushing your teeth right before you sit down to write, or drinking coffee out of one specific coffee cup when you are in writing mode, or putting on a playlist that you only use when writing.
For me, I light incense and ring a bell, then ask my muses to help me. When I take a break, I'll light a new incense stick (it's Japanese incense so very light scent) and ring the bell again.
That's about it, though I may write another post with more tips. I hope these are helpful to you, even if you don't like them. Sit on them, think about it, and give it a try. You might find yourself spending more time writing and less time just thinking about writing.
I've created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.
The posts I write can sometimes take me hours - they're always intricate, always thoughtful. This one took me about 1 hour to write.
I do this as a labor of love for the writing community, sharing what I have learned from almost 15 years of creative writing.
However, if you'd like to support me, maybe you'll consider buying my book?
9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.
The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.
You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution.
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stevie-petey · 1 year ago
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hiiiiiiiii honey <3 could we get a blurb about bug telling steve about jonathan’s outburst towards her after he took the pictures of nancy and steve’s reaction to learning about it???? it would be so so appreciated by me <3 you’re the best ever <3 MWAH
(i am being held against my will to write this jonathan sweetie im so sorry) (i love u val) (u are evil)
i know this isnt necessarily what u MEANT but ,,, ive been dying to expand upon bugs kindness and how it may seem annoying and pathetic, but its hers ! its her kindness !!!
enjoy <3
"no way you guys havent wanted to strangle each other at least once." steve remarks one day as he watches you and jonathan work side by side at the cash register.
jonathan had been bored today and decided to join you and steve at work, something that you're very happy about, honestly.
"oh, ive definitely wanted to strangle jonathan," you say, writing down a new shipment receipt while the boy next to you doodles.
steve rolls his eyes. "old married couple squabbling doesnt count. im talking, like, full on betrayal and hurt here. you guys are always so... you, and it has to be an act."
jonathan snorts. "shouldve seen the fights we had last year. surprised y/n didnt kill me with her bare hands."
"i dont believe you."
"no, hes right." you look up at steve. "he threw a jacket at my face last year and then told me we werent family the night he took those pictures of nancy. then cried in my arms like a day later."
steve stares at you, shocked.
"i also then slept in nancys bed and lied about it. and tried leaving you behind a few times."
"that you did," you flick jonathans ear, causing him to wince in pain. "you deserved that."
"i did."
during this entire exchange, steve hasnt said a single word. hes still stunned, baffled by the fact that jonathan could be so cruel to someone so wonderful.
"wait a second," he looks between you and jonathan. "and youre still friends?"
"yeah." you both say at the same time.
steve cant fucking believe it. you do anything and everything for jonathan, that much is obvious, and sure. steve has seen jonathan do small acts of kindness towards you, devote the same back, but to throw a jacket at you and belittle you? and now here he is, joking about it alongside you. as if it was all okay in the end.
"youre too nice sometimes, y/n." the words leave steves lips before he can stop them. once he realizes what hes said, he looks up at jonathan and panics. "sorry, man. im sure you guys talked it out and... yeah."
jonathan shrugs. "no, youre right. she is and i was dick."
"im right here, you know."
steve winces. "sorry."
"its fine, honestly." you go back to scribbling shipment orders. "i am indeed too nice, but i dont ever really see the point in holding a grudge? i mean, jonathan apologized and i understood the stress he was under. sure, it didnt erase all the hurt he caused, but after almost dying immediately after being mad at him for not including me in something... i dont know. it felt silly to hold onto that anger after. childish, even."
jonathan and steve share a look, for once both seeming to think the same thing.
shes too good.
you hate that they do this. you hate that people view your kindness as a weakness. after the hell youve been through, long before monsters even came to hawkins, youve learned the hard way just how rare kindness is.
now you try to be kind to everything and everyone, no matter what it may cost you.
the kindness is yours, no one elses.
and if that makes you weak, then at least it made you better.
you tear two pieces paper from your notebook, scrunch them up into balls, and then throw them at steve and jonathan. "stop pitying me. im kind and i love that aspect of myself. i dont care if it makes me vulnerable or pathetic. its a piece of me, and i wouldnt change it. if you dont like it, then that belittles me even more than emotional outbursts ever could."
jonathan sighs. "youre right, bug. youre a very kind and lovely person and its what makes you a joy to be around, paper balls and all."
steve plays along. "definitely a better super power than spider-man, dare i say."
"okay, lets not get ahead of ourselves now," you giggle, appreciative of both the boys. they may not understand or like the way you view the world, but theyre at least trying.
its all you could ask for.
even if steve later on that day pulls you aside to whisper, "i think i can kick jonathans ass this time, if you ever need it."
and its enough.
“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST
if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
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writer-in-theory · 1 year ago
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mid-sized city hopes & small town fears — steddie.
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Summary: When Steve buys the first bus ticket out of Indiana, he never expected to meet someone like Eddie. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Word Count: 4.6k Content Warnings: Language Exchange Request: Meet-cute OR secret relationship, Fame AU meets Mundane AU, Seeing a celebrity in an unexpected and seemingly ordinary place or scenario A/N: Hi everyone! I'm so excited to be writing this for the @steddiesummerexchange for @roomwithanopenfire . Thank you so much for running this event, and thank you Lily for the wonderful prompts to work from. I hope you enjoy!
Read on Ao3
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Steve didn’t know where he was going. 
The bus ticket sat delicately in his hands, held between the fingers of both hands like any more tangible touch would shatter it to pieces. A city was printed on both sides of the paper, but no matter how many minutes ticked by Steve still couldn’t bring himself to read it. Would it even matter, to know where his choices were taking him when all he really cared about was leaving where he was now?
It was 3 a.m. and he was the only one at the bus stop, a single backpack sat on the bench beside him. In two hours, Robin would be the first to notice he was gone. She would wake up for the barista job they worked together to pay rent, and would find the apartment empty save the debit card connected to all the money his parents had left him. There was no use he could think of for it, except to make sure that his friend would be okay in his sudden departure from their shared home. After her, Nancy would know because she knew everything that Robin did, inevitably. Dustin would be the last to find out, because he was in his first year at Caltech and no one wanted to upset him during such a pivotal time. At least, that’s what Steve hoped anyway. 
They would all call him, but Steve wouldn’t answer because his phone was left behind, too, tucked away in the top drawer of his desk that couldn’t open all the way. It was better that way, he knew (if they called, he would answer, he would come home if they asked). 
Indiana was the only home Steve knew, and some part of him trembled at the thought of leaving it all behind. Before he’d died, Robert Harrington—and fuck, when did he stop thinking of the man as Dad?—had made it clear that Steve wasn’t capable of making it in the world outside of Hawkins where the Harrington name was enough to keep him afloat and surviving long past his parents’ unexpected passage. Robert may have been right, of course, because who packed a bag and bought the first bus ticket out of the state with no plan for what to do when he got to his final destination?
A small town barista with nothing to lose, he supposed.
No longer was he the only passenger waiting for the bus to arrive. Another man sat down on the other side of the small bench, dipping his head low to keep his face covered by the baseball cap he wore. All Steve could see was curly black hair pulled haphazardly into a bun at the nape of the man’s neck, several strands falling loose around his face and over the denim jacket he wore. He also only had one bag, a black duffel tossed on the concrete platform despite the rain beginning to soak the material.
Steve turned back to look down at his hands and the infernal ticket he still refused to look at, allowing the silence to settle over them for another few minutes. It was only when his mind turned back to all of the uncertainties ahead of him that Steve found himself turning back to face the stranger, desperate for something to distract himself with.
“I thought I’d be the only person traveling this late,” Steve admitted. “Where’re you headed?”
The other man didn’t look at him, only turning his chin enough to let Steve know that he’d heard. “Boston. It’s the only bus outta here until morning.”
Huh, so Steve was going to Boston. He’d never been to the New England area before. Robin’s mom loved the Red Sox, he should send her a postcard from Fenway if they wouldn’t all hate him after this stunt.
“Right, I knew that,” Steve covered, cheeks burning red at the thought of this man knowing about his impulsive decisions. “Because, uh, I’m going to Boston, too. Obviously.”
“You okay?” 
Steve hummed, unsure how to begin answering the other man. “I’m not, like, some creep. You don’t have to worry about that.”
The other man laughed. The sound was a little sharp around the edges but joyous all the same, like the man wasn’t quite used to it being pulled from him. It was unique and Steve wanted to hear it again and again if only for the unexpectedness of it. No, don’t fall for the bus stop stranger. He could be a serial killer, Steven! What would Robin think?
Robin would say ‘get it’. 
“Sorry, man, but that’s what a creep would say.” The man was joking based on the hint of laughter that carried through his voice. He finally looked up, revealing wide brown eyes with crinkles in the skin at the edge of them from his smile. “But I’ll believe you.”
“Why’s that?”
The man watched him for a moment. It reminded Steve of when his father had stood back and watched him kick a soccer ball at the wall in his frustration. Robert had known the ball would come back and knock Steve off of his feet, but he’d let the scene play out anyway. That same knowing look was on the man’s face now, like he was watching a scene in a movie he’d already seen before. It was strange, and completely out of place for two strangers at a bus stop, but somehow it made too much sense for the moment. 
Then the man simply shrugged, looking for all the world like someone who had dodged a speeding car with the relief on his face. “You have a trustworthy face.” It didn’t sound like the right answer, but Steve didn’t have any grounds to contest it on. 
“What’s in Boston?” Steve asked after a momentary lapse into silence, knocking the back of his head against the cover over the bench and turning it to face the man. 
“Uh…baked beans?”
“What?” It was Steve’s turn to croak out a laugh, the sound carrying out across the entire station. Did the man mean to be funny, or was that simply a bonus to his personality? “I meant what’s waiting for you out there. I mean, you gotta have something you’re headed toward?”
“Can I let you in on a little secret, from one late night bus creep to another?” the man asked, leaning over and placing a hand on the side of his mouth in a mock whisper. “Maybe I’ve got something I’m running from.”
The words should send alarm bells ringing in Steve’s head. Instead, he leaned closer and asked, “What are you running from?”
“Is it cheesy to say expectations?”
“Hm, maybe. But that makes two of us,” Steve answered honestly, fingers tightening around his bus ticket. “I’ll tell you a secret too. I had no idea where I wanted to go, just that I needed out of here today. I didn’t know where we were going until you told me.”
“Well, aren’t we a perfect pair...?” The man began, trailing off and looking at Steve expectantly after. 
“Steve.” Then, when the man didn’t reciprocate right away, “And you?”
This seemed to startle the man. His head reeled back a little, eyes wider as he watched Steve. “Wait, really?”
Who was this guy? Suddenly, Steve began to wonder if, through all of the jokes, this man actually was just some bus stop creep. Why would a name be such a big deal?
Then, all at once, the man relaxed again. If anything, he seemed to relax even more than before. His shoulders nearly completely slumped over with the clear relief at…whatever he’d been expecting to happen then. “I’m Eddie. It’s good to meet you, Steve.”
Conversation was easy with Eddie. They didn’t talk about anything that mattered—what pasta shape was the best, if they thought aliens were real, even what department store they’d choose to be stuck in for a night—but Steve was captivated by what Eddie had to say regardless. The conversation flowed straight through until the bus finally arrived to the station. Steve expected the conversation to end there, the entire night fading away into some strange but pleasant interaction with another lost stranger. 
Except, despite the bus being mostly empty at the late hour, Eddie chose the seat beside Steve.
Eddie chose Steve, his brain supplied unhelpfully. The brief spark of joy at that felt equally as silly as it did pleasant, because how bad could his life have been in Hawkins for him to be relieved that a stranger enjoyed talking about him? They didn’t talk much for the first few hours of the trip, but that suited Steve just fine. After all, it was still the middle of the night and he was already beginning to feel the settling of sleep in his body. It was a comfort simply to know there was someone he even vaguely knew beside him. 
It wasn’t until the sun began to rise on the horizon that Steve thought of Hawkins again. He wondered what Robin would be doing. Was she trying to look for him, or was she simply getting ready for work like nothing had happened? Had she even noticed that he was gone, had anyone? Maybe it was for the best of they didn’t—if, like a ghost, Steve disappeared in the middle of the night and was never heard from again. It had been clear for years that he didn’t quite fit in there, at least, not with the image that everyone had already created for him. Sure at one time he might’ve, but there came a point when he wanted to be more than the guy with good looks and a charming personality who know one really expected much from. Even his friends looked at him like he was a joke, like all he really had to offer was free car rides or someone to pick fun at. And it was fine, really he loved his friends more than anything, but for once he wished he could be more than that for someone, anyone.
Which was why, when the bus finally arrived in Boston the next night, Steve didn’t immediately take off. Eddie stood near him at the bus stop, one hand tucked into his jeans pocket and the other holding onto his duffel bag. A couple of his fingers were picking at a loose thread on the handle of the bag, and Steve had to wonder if Eddie even realized he was doing it. 
“Hey, so uh, at the threat of sounding like that bus stop creep,” Eddie began, a breathy laugh sounding overtop the words.
When the other man didn’t continue, Steve had the urge to make it at least a little easier for him. “Thought we agreed back in Indianapolis neither of us could be creeps.”
It was simple, but the words seemed to do the trick at least for long enough that Eddie could get his question out. “Well, just that it’s already late and Boston isn’t exactly safe alone. We both said we wanted a new start but who’s to say it wouldn’t be more fun if…what I mean to say is….”
Something told Steve that this nervousness was bizarrely out of character for a guy like Eddie. He exuded confidence in the way movie stars did, like he never cared what the people around him thought. But for some reason, after just a day together, he seemed to care what Steve thought of him. 
It was fucking crazy, and Steve knew that if Robin was there she’d yell about all of the ways he could be found dead the next morning if he agreed to staying with a stranger. 
And yet.
“How about we find a hotel room for the night? We can explore the city together in the morning.”
They ended up at a midtier hotel—the kind that always aired commercials about being perfect for nuclear family getaways as if the small enclosed space wouldn’t spark even more arguments between even the most loving families. It was nicer than the shitty motel rooms he and Robin had stayed in when they planned a last-minute road trip out to California to “find themselves” (spoiler alert: they found nothing except the beaches of LA were way too crowded), but not quite so nice as to blow all of his savings from the barista job he’d had for the past few years. 
Eddie seemed downright thrilled. He flopped right down on one of the small, lumpy twin beds—why had Steve been half-expecting to see only one of them when they walked in?—and let out a large sigh. “I haven’t stayed in one of these since I was a kid, I almost forgot how small and vaguely smokey they were.” From the way he kept his eyes closed and didn’t even look for a response, Steve had to wonder if he even meant to say it aloud.
“Not one for traveling?”
“Huh? Nah I travel all the time.”
Okay, the image the new details gave were kind of strange. What kind of guy travelled all the time but never stayed in a hotel room? “Please don’t tell me you’re the kind of guy who thinks staying overnight in your car is safe. I’ve already had to convince one friend it’s not,” Steve groaned, thinking of the one screaming match he and Robin had in the parking lot of a highway rest stop about not just sleeping there, pulled to the side of the road. 
Eddie opened his eyes to track Steve’s movement across the room. It was only once he’d laid down in the other bed that Eddie finally answered, seeming a little more on edge than before. “In a car? Who would do that if you had any other option?”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Steve laughed, pleased that at least someone agreed with him. “What has you traveling so much? Is it for work?”
“Uh…yeah, yeah you could say that.” Eddie didn’t say anything more about the topic, and though every increasingly shifty response about himself made Steve wonder if he was traveling with a mob boss or something, he didn’t press any further. Mostly because it was already well past midnight and Steve actually wanted to use the next day out in the city doing something fun. 
So he let himself relax into the bed, hoping his decision to stay the night in a hotel room with a stranger wasn’t a catastrophically terrible mistake.
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“All I’m saying is anyone who thinks a New England beach is the same as a California beach is wrong!” Eddie shouted, catching the attention of more than a few passersby with his dramatics. “They’re inherently different with completely different vibes.”
“So are you saying New England beaches suck? I have a feeling someone here’d fight you for that,” Steve laughed, letting his head tip back to catch more of the suns rays on his face. It was still a little cool to be sitting on a beach, but when Eddie had suggested seeing what the beaches of Boston had to offer, Steve couldn’t refuse.
They’d spent their morning seeing many of the traditionally tourist sites. They checked out Fenway Park, and Steve dutifully wrote a postcard for Robin, though he wouldn’t send it until he’d left Boston. Eddie took him to the Boston Common and even over to the harbor, though that was the extent of their historical site visits if only because neither of them could pay attention long enough to get the experience. 
Afterward, when they’d had lunch at a little hole in the wall place that Steve was sure he’d never be able to find again, Steve suggested the beach. It wasn’t too crowded if only because the weather wasn’t summer-y enough yet, leaving him and Eddie to enjoy the rest of their afternoon in relative peace.
It was a good day, far from the lonely existence that Steve had been expecting when he took off on his own on a whim.
“You’re putting words in my mouth, Harrington,” Eddie returned, pointing his finger at him without any of the seriousness the gesture should’ve contained. “Both are great, but they’re not the same.”
“It is pretty peaceful though,” Steve said. “I could stay here and never move again.”
Eddie sat back on his hands and relaxed much in the same way Steve did, though instead of looking up toward the sky he looked over at Steve. “Do you think you’ll go back?”
“To the hotel? Yeah, when the beach closes.”
“No, I mean to whatever town you came from,” Eddie clarified. “Do you wanna go back?”
It seemingly came out of nowhere, but Steve had to assume from the suddenly serious expression on Eddie’s face that he was thinking of whatever he was running from too. 
“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly. “It’s the only place I’ve ever known. It’s…comfortable. It sounds weird, man, but maybe I want to be uncomfortable? Like going to a new place, meeting people who have no idea who I was before now, that’s kinda thrilling isn’t it?”
“Staying the night in a hotel room with a stranger?” Eddie offered as if to lighten the conversation, smiling warmly at him.
“Yeah that,” Steve laughed. “I just. I miss my friends, but I also want to know I can do this without them.”
“This?”
Steve gestured around him, shrugging a little. “Life, I guess? People back home think I’m…I don’t know, stupid or something. I’m the butt of the joke, and I’m fine with that, really, but I want to know I can be more than that too.”
For a moment, Eddie didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even looking at Steve either, instead focusing somewhere out on the horizon. If he hadn’t already begun to learn that this meant Eddie was considering what Steve had said carefully, Steve would have assumed he wasn’t listening at all.
“Yeah, I get that,” Eddie finally said what felt like minutes later, voice more quiet than Steve had ever heard it. He turned back to face Steve, brown eyes full of an emotion that felt weightier than the moment called for. It stunned Steve into silence, struck by the sudden admission from the man.
“Do people underestimate you too?”
Eddie scoffed out a laugh. “You could say that. It’s like when you’re in a room and everyone’s staring at you, but they don’t really see you. You know?”
“Yeah, I do know.” Steve paused, knowing that any talk of where Eddie had been before could be a sore subject. Up until now, the man had shut down every conversation about it, had dodged any question Steve had for him. But he was too curious now not to ask, now that the doors had been opened. “Are you gonna go back?”
“I’ll go back eventually, but being out here, it’s nice. It’s nice knowing I can be more than what people think of me, too.”
Steve heard what Eddie didn’t say as loudly as he heard what Eddie had said. It’s nice being out here with you.
“This might be crazy,” Steve whispered, eyes dropping to Eddie’s lips. They were a little chapped, broken in places where Eddie had chewed on them out of nerves. “This might be really crazy.”
“Be a little crazy, Steve,” Eddie whispered back, not moving away as Steve began to lean forward. 
The kiss was gentle, barely there. Steve had kissed plenty of guys before, plenty of strangers, even. But this felt altogether different in a way Steve couldn’t begin to explain, like it could be the start of something entirely new and exhilarating in a way he’d never experienced before. Eddie was still practically a stranger in every way that mattered, and yet Steve found himself wishing he could have more moments like this, tucked away in their corner of the beach. Eddie understood him in ways noone else had dared to try before, and that was so shocking that Steve couldn’t help but begin to fall. 
Even more surprising was the flash of light. 
At first, Steve thought maybe lightning had struck in front of them. Maybe the pain of being electrocuted was so strong that Steve’s body hadn’t even registered it. 
But then the shouting started. 
When Steve turned, he saw a half dozen people holding cameras pointed at the two of them. A small crowd had begun to gather around them, though, all of them talking excitedly and pointing like he and Eddie were zoo animals in an enclosure. 
“What the fuck?” Steve hissed, stunned by the sudden attention. 
Eddie didn’t look shocked in the least. If anything, he seemed resigned to it.
Like he was used to this.
“Eddie, where have you been all this time?”
“Did you run away to be with a secret lover?”
“Who is this, Eddie?”
“Are you quitting the band?”
“Did you move to Boston?”
The questions didn’t stop coming, directed from the people with cameras and microphones, but also from the crowd of fans (and oh God, why did Eddie have fans?) that had gathered. They started asking Steve things too, anything from about who he was to if he was trying to tear the band apart, as if Steve knew what fucking band they were even talking about. 
Within moments, their little corner of the world had been exposed. 
As quickly as the paparazzi appeared, Steve stood and tried to disappear. He didn’t run, figuring that would only call even more unwanted attention to him. But he did move quickly, head tucked down so his hair might be able to cover his quickly reddening face. 
“Steve,” Eddie called out, hand reaching out to hold onto his arm. Steve shook it off, keeping his face turned away so he wouldn’t be anymore humiliated in front of the man and the rest of the world.
Steve kept walking. Eddie didn’t chase him.
Eddie was a fucking celebrity. A musician, from the sounds of it. Suddenly all of it made sense, leaving Steve with the feeling that maybe his friends were right about him after all. How could he have not seen it before? Eddie had looked surprised when Steve asked for his name, like he wasn’t used to having to introduce himself. Because he wasn’t. He traveled a lot, and wasn’t used to staying in hotel rooms that probably looked shitty compared to the luxury places he got to stay in. 
Was he using Steve as a piece of entertainment on whatever trip he was on now?
Except.
The look on Eddie’s face had seemed real, when he’d told Steve that he understood him. When he said he wanted to be more than what people thought of him, that he enjoyed being with Steve because they both could be whoever they wanted to be without any expectations of otherwise. He’d seemed genuinely relieved when Steve spoke to him normally at the bus stop, likely because everywhere he went he got the reaction that Steve had just run away from. It was the same reason Steve had left without letting anyone know where he’d gone, the same reason he didn’t want to send that postcard until after he’d already left Boston so he couldn’t be tracked. 
God, Steve could understand why Eddie hadn’t told him. 
There was no going back to the beach, not when the cameras were still there to catch every word. He didn’t want the world to hear what he had to say, not like this. He ended up back in the hotel room, thankful that noone had followed him there. The room was startlingly quiet. At least Eddie’s things were still there, sat on the floor at the end of his bed. That meant that the man had to come back, right? There would be a chance to say something, to tell him why he’d taken off in the first place.
As the time passed, Steve began to doubt. Maybe Eddie was rich enough that he wouldn’t care about one duffel bag of things. He might’ve already taken off back to California, back to his life as a celebrity where Steve wouldn’t have belonged anyway. 
Maybe it was for the best that Steve didn’t have the chance to be rejected by the first person who had really seen him.
Turning on the TV was a mistake. On the news was a grainy video of him and Eddie, sitting on the beach together. The camera had captured the end of their kiss all the way through when Steve had run off. It was being called an affair of all things, as if this was some forbidden romance. 
There was no hiding who he was. The journalist was calling him a mystery man, but everyone back home would easily be able to see where he was. What would his friends say—what would Robin say—when they saw this? Would they think that Steve ran away to go be with a celebrity, as if any of this had been planned?
When all of this was over, one way or another, Steve needed to find a payphone and call Robin. His best friend deserved answers, after this.
Three hours after the incident on the beach, the door to the hotel room finally opened. Standing there was Eddie, looking exhausted and rung out in a way Steve hadn’t seen since the night at the bus stop. Was this why Eddie had run away from his fame?
“I just came back to get my stuff, I promise noone followed me here,” Eddie said, keeping his gaze pointed on the old carpet instead of at Steve. “I really am sorry, Steve. I wanted to tell you, I just…”
Steve shrugged, having had his time alone to process everything and coming to the same conclusion anyway. “It was nice, having someone not think of you as some…famous musician.”
When Steve didn’t respond with anger or accusations, Eddie’s head whipped up in surprise. His brown eyes were wide, lips parted in clear shock as he watched Steve. 
“You’re not…mad?”
“I mean, I was at first,” Steve admitted, standing up from his spot on the bed to stand in front of Eddie. “Mostly embarrassed, that so many people had seen me. But I get it now. It’s probably not common for people not to recognize you.”
“You have no idea,” Eddie said, a hint of laughter carrying through his voice now. “I thought you were lying at first.”
“My friends call me oblivious all the time,” Steve admitted. “I don’t really listen to current music.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Eddie laughed. “I do really like you Steve, that part wasn’t a lie.”
“Well good, because I really like you too.”
“I have to get back to LA soon, now that everyone knows where I am,” Eddie admitted. “This sounds fucking crazy, but would you come with me?”
“Eddie, I chose to sleep in a hotel room with you when I hardly knew you,” Steve pointed out.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no,” Steve said, smiling. It would be the most impulsive thing that he’d ever done, but Steve couldn’t imagine a future where he let Eddie walk out that door without him.
Steve didn’t know how things would turn out. By all accounts, he and Eddie still didn’t know each other well. But hell, was Steve excited to learn. 
“But uh, could we make a stop on the way?” Steve asked. “I need to explain some things to a friend. I think you’ll like her.”
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