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saturnsorbits · 4 months ago

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The Storm: A Saturnari Story

WC: 2.6k,

A/N: A little more lore for last nights post. Thank you to BTP, you asked the question and this was kind of cathartic to put together.

It’s a Friday and we’re at a bar. Usual stuff, y’know. Drinks, the gang, there’s laughter bouncing off the walls, blending with the music and bleeding into our veins. Everything is good… Until it isn’t.

I’m at the bar? Or in the toilet? Kaminari can’t remember, but when Sero is dragged up by an excitable Mina for a dance, it’s only the two of them left alone in the booth. Jirou turns to him with apple red cheeks and rum on her lips and sighs. He tries to convince himself it’s a trick of the light when he catches it, his own lust reflected back at him through the opals of her eyes, but it’s not. The truth is, they just kind of missed each other back in school, back when she never took him seriously and he matured too slowly. The air is thick, the thrum of his heart loud. He can feel it. His being calls for her, reaches out wanting to touch, to taste, to feel: just once.

Just to get her out of his system.

He knows I worry about her. He knows I’ve seen the looks. The thoughts of another life that flicker through his mind, the life where it’s her on his arm and not me.

The alcohol in his veins loosens his tongue, brings impulse to the surface of his skin and dares him to indulge it. Words stick behind his Adam’s apple and bob there, the whispers of ‘I think I could have loved you’ that swim in his mind when she raises her eyebrows at him… An unspoken question: a sin.

It’s Bakugo who gets to him. It always is. The hand he has wrapped around Kaminari’s neck is too tight to be friendly, bordering on crushing and leaves him pinned like a bug. He’s smiling when I return to the booth, they both are. Bakugo shoves his catch towards me, says ‘Take him home’ in the same way he says ‘he careful’ and retreats, watching with predatory eyes as we slip through the crowd and head home.

Kaminari glances over his shoulder, looks for Jirou in the crowd, frowning when he can’t find her. Across the room Bakugo scowls. He slips his hand into Kiri’s and squeezes, remembering just how lucky he is to have a love like he has at home.

Still, despite the intervention, it’s already begun.

Neither of them remember who suggests it, but the details don’t really matter. It’s almost 8:45pm the following Sunday when Kaminari’s knuckles are rattling against her door and she’s opening it with only a old t-shirt hanging from her shoulders.

He calls me on the way to her place. Just once. His hand shakes around his phone, his heart a humming bird that feeds on his own destruction. He whispers, voice cracking down the phone: ‘Just once, I promise. I just…’

He’s crying. I can hear it. Each hollow, hiccuping sob echos in the cavern of my skull, but I keep quiet, let him finish.

‘I need this. I - fuck. I just need to get it out of my system. I -.’ He bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. There’s no way he can explain, expose the rotten center of him that knows this will break you, not when he’s only two minutes from her apartment. So he doesn’t. ‘Fuck. I’m so… I’m so sorry. I just - I know it’s fucked up. It’s fucked. It’s - I just… I love y-.’

The line goes dead after that.

I’m not there when he gets home, but Kirishima is. He returns with a duffel bag and an offer of sanctuary - a place in his and Bakugo’s spare room so I can piece myself back together. The next week is… Odd. There’s the heartbreak, obviously, the rift that opens up within the friend group and a notable, angrier version of Kirishima that shows off an almost Bakugo-level colour in language, but on a whole it’s just the same. The sun still rises, the birds still sing outside of the window, Bakugo still cooks as well as he always has and work is the usual 9-5 drone.

It’s enough, for a while, my new normal… That is until I see her again.

There’s still a bruise on her neck when I see her. It’s small; a faded purple that seems to perfectly match her hair and it turns my stomach knowing that there are probably more that I can’t see; little reminders of him scattered all over her body. She pulls her collar up when she notices me staring and I don’t blame her. I’m not trying to hide it and her discomfort makes something proud and angry squirm in my chest.

We’re in some coffee shop. It’s one I don’t frequent, one I don’t even like - just so I won’t have to spend the next few weeks dragging Bakugo and Kirishima out to re-write the memories of this conversation.

She sips at the edge of a coffee I paid for and bites her cheek. ‘It’s always been you, hasn’t it?’

My eyebrows raise. ‘What?’

‘You know what I mean.’

I assure her that I absolutely fucking do not.

‘He only thinks he wants me. It’s not… I don’t think he’s ever really…’ She swallows, hiccups a sob and burns his tongue. ‘He doesn’t love me, he never has. I - fuck…’ She rubs her eyes. ‘I used to wish I was you, y’know. When you first got together and he changed, stopped doing all that gear, being so… So.’

‘He got better, Jirou - You can’t begrudge him that.’

‘No… No, but it was all for you.’

You snort. ‘Obviously not.’

We sit in silence for a while after that. I look out of the window, watch couples pass by and try not to vomit. ‘He told me, y’know.’

Jirou’s head snaps up from the table, a small furrow between her eyebrows.

I smile, shake my head, blow air out of my nose like that will stop the tears. It doesn’t. ‘He rang me before he went over, told me he had to get you out of his system. That he needed it. He needed you.’

She’s floundering as it dawns on her, but the moment my words slot together in her head, her eyes blow wide. ‘He told you?’

I nod.

‘So I was just… He was…’ She can’t spit it out because that will make it true, so she locks it behind her teeth instead.

‘He fucked both of us over.’ I offer.

She counters. ‘I fucked you over too.’

I smile, look at the table. I’m already too tired to get into the semantic and with every passing second I’m running out of steam. ‘Yeah.’ My phone buzzes on the table - a text from Bakugo lighting up the screen when I flip it over to check.

Katsuki: ‘Want me to come get you?’

I text back a quick ‘Yes, please’ knowing that he’s probably half-way here anyway and down the rest of my drink with two clean gulps. ‘For what it's worth i think he loves you… In his own way. You and him, it’s… It’s unfinished.’

Jirou smiles, catches herself and squashes it. ‘He loves you more.’

‘It’s not a competition. ‘I snap. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

She shakes her head. ‘He, he won’t.’ Tears spill over her cheeks, tiny diamonds that shatter when they hit her fingers. ‘And Kiri, Kiri told me it’s probably best if…’

‘I’m not going to stop you talking to him.’ The words shake when they come out of my mouth, but it’s stronger than I could have hoped. ‘I mean it. I won’t. I can’t.’

She’s about to say something more when Bakugo walks in, but it falls dead on her tongue at the sight of him. He buys a coffee to go and waits as I awkwardly trade goodbye’s with Jirou and we leave.

Seeing him again is… Something.

Kaminari looks like he hasn’t slept. Fuck. It looks like he hasn’t eaten or showered either, but the first thing he does is offer me a cup of tea. The kitchen is bare, like he hasn’t been shopping since I’ve been gone, but the box of tea he pulls out is new. It’s my favourite brand, the one he thinks tastes like dirt.

We drift back into the living room and sit on the couch in an uneasy silence. My cup is half empty before he breaks it.

‘I’m… Fuck, I’m so.’

I swallow my mouthful and cut him off before he can apologize. ‘I spoke to Jirou.’

His eyes blow wide, a trapped fox with no escape.

But this time, there are no dogs to run from. Just me, a sheep in wolf’s clothing. ‘She’s been texting you.’

‘I - I haven’t responded, I -.’

‘I know.’ I take a breath.

This moment right here has plagued me for two weeks. It’s kept me awake. It’s burrowed so deeply inside of me that I’ve spent every waking moment picturing all the different ways this could go…

I’ve imagined screaming at him, calling him out and cursing him - tearing him to shreds and making him bleed in a poor attempt to pay him back for the hole he’s created in my chest.

I’ve imagined ghosting him, moving on and pretending he doesn’t exist; leaving me to limp alone into a future where another happy ending may never find me.

I’ve imagined taking him back.

Imagined him doing it again.

I’ve imagined him leaving me for her, properly this time - a forever conclusion to this transgression.

I’ve imagined all of it, played it out on the back of my eyelids in the early hours.

Still… What I hadn’t equated for is the heat that bubbles under my skin when I see him. It’s painful. The force of the emotion crushes my lungs and pins down my tongue. It cages me, refuses to let me go even as I fight it; even as I beg it to and eventually… Eventually, I’m forced to admit it.

‘I still love you... But, I need time.’ There’s tears in my tea. I can see them. They dive from the tip of my chin and splash, sorrow filled raindrops that salt the brew.

‘I - I can give you time. As much as you need, anything. I’ll give you anything, even…’ He swallows, chokes. ‘Even if you need me to go away.’

‘Do you want to?’

‘No.’

‘Okay.’

‘I understand… If, if you don’t want to see me again, I -.’

I bite the inside of my cheek. ‘I said okay, Denki.’

I want to tell him that I need to find myself again. That I need to piece back together the parts of me that ask ‘why her?’ and ‘why wasn’t I enough?’ when I lie awake at night, but I don’t… Those are my burdens to bare now. Instead, I tell him to get some sleep, to eat for gods sake and take a damn shower.

‘Can I see you again?’

‘Not for a while.’

The light dulls in his eyes, but he nods. ‘I…’ Coughing the film from his voice, he offers a smile. ‘I’ve signed back onto the programme, Aizawa’s paired me up with another sponsor. Just a precaution, y’know, the self destruction is obviously back - don’t want the rest of it coming back too.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘And you’ll call?’ He’s hopeful, a little boy who’s been promised a puppy for Christmas if he’s good. ‘When… If… If you’re ready. I’ll wait. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll… I’ll always wait for you.’

I reach out and touch his cheek, fall back into him easily, just like I did for the first time all those years ago. I press a singular, soft kiss to his lips before I leave.

‘I love you.’ He whispers it, stuffing a million more words into it as he breathes them on my skin.

I don’t say it back.

As soon as the air outside hits me I all, but collapse into Bakugo. He’s solid and warm as I press my cheek against his chest, my fists balled in the flimsy material of his windbreaker as the material of the t-shirt underneath darkens with tears. I’m numb, stranded in an endless desert of heart shards…

‘I didn’t want to feel like this again…’ A sob wrecks my chest as the well deepens, opening up to swallow me whole. It all comes flooding back. Heartbreart nestles back into my ribcage and burrows there, promising to make me it’s home. I choke on a sob. ‘I don’t want - I can’t. I can’t do this again.’

Bakugo feels it too. The prickle of my heartbreak infests him. It’s been a while since he last saw me like this, but it’s still far too soon for his liking.

I was supposed to be happy.

It makes him sick to the stomach, but it’s the memories that really do a number on him. It’s hard to forget the last time he’d seen me reduced to a shadow, struggling against the tide of numbness that threatens to engulf me. He remembers it all too well. He remembers because he was the cause of it. ‘I know.’ He coos, consoles himself with the thought that at least this time he can be here - this time he can help. Kissing my crown, he holds me like he’s keeping me together, because he is. ‘I know sweetheart, I know.’

A month down and it’s Friday again. We’re at a bar. Usual stuff, y’know. Drinks, the gang, minus a few, there’s laughter bouncing off the walls, blending with the music and bleeding into our veins. Everything isn’t good… But, it’s better.

I’m in a booth with Sero chattering about the latest hero numbers when he huffs out a laugh and leans in close. His pupils have blown, the brown of his iris vanquished. He’s more drunk than usual, but he’s just stopped seeing the latest in a long string off on/off again partners, so it’s to be expected. None of us chastise him for it.

Still, he’s grinning and frowning all at once when he mumbles into my ear: ‘Wanna know a secret?’

‘Sure.’

‘Me and Denks used to fool around y’know… Way back, like college, way back.’ He swallows, then snarls and clenches his jaw: hard. ‘Thought it was going somewhere until I walked in on him and someone else… Said he didn’t think we where serious, but he fucking knew.’ He hiccups. ‘He knew I liked him.’

I wait, letting the alcohol slow the shock.

‘He’s got no fucking impulse control, and that was before… Before all that. It was nice to see it bite him in the ass.’

‘I didn’t…’ I frown, wrapping a hand around Sero’s wrist. ‘I didn’t know.’

He shrugs, signature grin back in place as he sips from his beer. ‘Doesn’t matter now. He fucked it with the best thing that ever happened to him, that’s enough karma for a lifetime.’

‘I -.’ It’s a lot of information to take in, but before I can catastrophize and think too deeply about Kaminari’s apparent pattern of behaviour, Sero is downing his drink and yanking on my hand. He flashes a sad, tired smile and I can see my own heartbreak reflected in his eyes.

He flexes his palm. ‘Fuck him. Dance with me.’

#saturnscribbles #saturnships #saturnari #IDK where to go from here...

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jonsnowunemploymentera · 2 months ago

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Something that’s always missing whenever people talk about Lyanna and the Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy is that these things should always circle back to Jon Snow. He’s our main character here. Rhaegar and Lyanna, as well as the Kingsguard, are all dead. They were dead before this story began. This tiny section of text is meant to give color to Jon — who is alive, and whose story is currently unfolding. The events at the Tower of Joy, told entirely through Ned’s fever dream for a reason, essentially serve as one thing: fantasy protagonist myth building 101. Three wise men, a legendary magical sword, some of the greatest knights of an era, a dying queen lady, the end of an age, a dead prince, a dead king, and then here comes a soon to be completely orphaned prince whose life hangs on the balance and whose survival depends on the compassion of one lord and his wizard friend. GRRM is literally retelling King Arthur’s backstory through Jon. This whole thing is one giant literary allusion to Uther and Igraine and the boy king Arthur, to Lancelot and his Joyous Guard, to Guinevere, and to tragic romances. It reads as an ode to Arthurian fantasy and is meant to backdrop the main protagonist’s fantastical origins. The Kingsguard are there to play into that. Their presence at the Tower, in that moment, was never about Lyanna; not solely, anyway. Their presence is tied to Rhaegar’s last surviving male child, and the language used suggests that they had chosen their king, for better or worse. Any discussion surrounding the Kingsguard’s presence at the Tower that focuses on anyone but Jon completely misses the point imo.

#idk yall im just a lil annoyed rn lmaooo #I feel like there are a lot of readings and arguments that have nothing to do with the actual purpose of the text #just people straight up ignoring what’s already in the text and then imposing their own reading #like ned’s fever dream speaks to his trauma fr but like a big main takeaway is:#oh the kg literally have a million other places to be and a million other things to do so why are they here in particular?#why have they remained here of all places??#oh they are doing their duty as they see it….which is to guard the king…..who is now baby jon like?????#it’s almost spelled out for us in the text why do yall have to create new cannon about evil kingsguard following evil rhaegar??#asoiaf #jon snow #lyanna stark #the tower of joy #valyrianscrolls #“the kingsguard were evil for keeping lya from her brother!111”#hmmmm neddard i agot — lyanna was scared shitless until ned made his promises #I wonder why she’d be scared? I wonder if anything happened recently to rhaegar’s children to make her scared?#no she was definitely scared of the kingsguard there 🙃#I do want to say too that this is a world where brother and sister go to war (dance of the dragons)#or brother vs brother (stannis vs renly) among other examples of familial conflicts #ned fought and won a war for robert whose rule was solidified in the targ heirs’ blood #him being lya’s brother at that moment doesn’t mean shit

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