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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

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Yours Truly (Pt. 1)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: ~ Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Pining, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have a few days off, so we're back to our (semi) regularly scheduled programming with this fic! I really hope you enjoy it; lmk what you think :)

PS ~ Once again, I had to split it into two parts to appease the Tumblr Overlords.

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 2 -- Click Here

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1.) A Day In Class

Where does true beauty come from?

Is it strictly based in someone's DNA, rooted entirely in the attractiveness of their features? Or is deeper than that; does it extend from their soul? The very essence of stardust and personality that makes them them? Is it in how they interact with others? How they carry themselves?

You, being the wannabe philosopher that you are, love hearing people's answers to those questions. Every response is unique in its own way, altered depending on the person asked, and you find that to be one of humanity's most wonderful qualities. Like snowflakes, we're all different; as such is our definition of beauty. It lies in the eye of the beholder, subjective in its nature, and you find that comforting. Just think: if 99% of the world's population found you unattractive, 78,000,000 would beg to differ.

Though, for one person, you're sure those rules don't apply. She's objectively beautiful, and no one even attempts to pretend otherwise.

Who, you may ask? Kim Jisoo, of course -- head of your school's student council, resident girl next door, and keeper of your heart. She's poised in every way, and refined to the point that you question if you're even deserving of knowing her. Humor and kindness radiate from her no matter where she goes, so it's really no surprise that so many people love her.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to look at your best friend. "Yo, Y/N. What did you get for number 32?" Jeong asks from his seat in the row directly behind you, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Your history professor likely wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted during his lecture, so you choose to show him your answer instead of responding out loud.

Jeong thanks you and continues to work on the activity you finished nearly 15 minutes ago, leaving you to half-heartedly listen to your professor. You're a good student, but even you have a limit to how much monotonous speaking you can handle in one sitting. As his words drone on, you roll your neck -- intending for the action to relieve some of the tension in your aching muscles; you're in for a surprise, however, when you lock eyes with none other than Jisoo herself. She offers a warm smile and wave, and the innocent actions send swarms of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. After sitting there for a moment, dumbstruck by her beauty, you snap to and return the gesture, making her giggle quietly.

Huh. So that's what angels sound like, then.

She turns back to her work after a minute, flipping the page every so often as she follows along with the lesson. You take note of how her eyes dart across the materials laid out on her desk, how her fingers mindlessly flirt with the edge of her sleeve in contemplation when she gets to a question that stumps her.

Never have you ever found yourself in such inner turmoil before. The sight before you begs to be seen -- to be admired -- but class continues on. As much as you try to fight it, your resolve eventually crumbles; foreign concepts now falling on fully deaf ears, you allow yourself to be entranced.

2.) Out In The Square

A Few Hours Later

Throngs of people stretch out before you, everyone making their way to various parts of campus as the blazingly hot sun beats down on them. Some run like their lives depend on it -- likely having overslept or missed campus transit -- while others take their time, catching up with friends and gossiping all the while. The soft pfft of sprinklers set up across the sections of lawn around you can be heard, going off every so often, and occasionally they're followed by the shouts of some unfortunate people getting soaked.

"You're so lucky, Y/N," Jeong groans from behind you. A grimace sits on his face as he flips through the pages of his Trigonometry book, looking for the reference graphs again. "No more classes for the rest of the week and you don't have any more assignments to finish? Remind me again how to become a teacher's pet, please." You roll your eyes with an amused smile, leaning back on your elbows to talk to him.

"I'm not a teacher's pet, Jeong. I just do my work on time instead of partying every night." He picks up a leftover piece of bread from the picnic basket that sits to his right and tosses it at you in retaliation to your little remark.

"I don't care what you say, those parties are always epic. One of these days I'll convince you to come along."

You shake your head, knowing there's no way you'd willingly attend one of them. From his stories, all those "epic" nights consist of is ridiculously drunken beer pong, sweaty people doing jello shots, and regrets.

"Not in a million years, loser." You say adamantly, not letting him trick himself into believing he's capable of swaying you.

With one last muttered phrase of, "we'll see about that," he returns to his studies, and you turn your attention elsewhere.

Scattered light filters in through the leaves of the tree you're sitting under, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as your eyes scan across the crowd again. The sight brings to mind an idea that always fascinates you: everyone you meet is busy creating their own stories, writing and rewriting new possibilities and endings for themselves with each new choice they make. You can hear snippets of their conversations -- see instances of some having their best days while others are living through their worst -- and it really puts things into perspective. Although we may appear as side characters in those books of life that others are writing for themselves, we have no idea what they're going through at any given moment. So, you believe, that makes it all the more important to leave a positive impact on them; whether it be a kind smile, holding the door, or even a simple compliment, you're determined to have your legacy be one rooted in kindness.

Speaking of kindness in human form…

There she is, you think to yourself, feeling that all too familiar pitter patter of your heart pick up. Jisoo exits Building C, where her latest lecture just ended, and rushes down the stairs with her books in her arms. She's studying to become an actress, as far as you know, and you can't help but smile at the thought; she'll make an amazing star someday.

You watch as she meets up with 3 other girls, whom you immediately recognize as Lisa, Rosé, and Jennie, and they eagerly bounce their way over to the refreshment truck that one of your school's clubs had been so considerate to hire. It's the perfect day for a cold treat, after all.

Jisoo's dark hair flows in the gentle breeze that rolls in, looking like silk as it rides the currents. She's gorgeous in every way, and you can't help but be smitten; besides, it's not like you're not alone in your pining. She practically has the entire student body wrapped around her finger.

"Y/N, don't forget to blink. You're staring pretty hard," Yuqi says, raising up onto her elbow beside Jeong. He laughs with her, but his eyes remain glued to the notebook paper he's scribbling his work onto.

Your eyes dart away following her statement, and you know you've been caught. "I thought you were asleep," you bite back, attempting to hide the blush of embarrassment that's quickly flooding to your cheeks.

"I was, but I guess my intuition as your best friend woke me up. It's my mission in life to tease you."

"So I've gathered," you sarcastically smile at each other, making stupid faces like always.

"You love me," she flips her hair over her shoulder, appearing self-assured with the smirk that tugs at her lips.

"Do I though? I don't know sometimes..." she socks you in the arm, making you chuckle.

"All jokes, babe. Don't pout," you pinch her cheek until she grins, and then she begins telling you all about the dream she just had.

----

Jisoo leads her gang over to one of the nearby tables, making sure to choose her seat strategically. A special someone caught her attention earlier, as they have from the moment she first laid eyes on them months ago, and she hasn't been able to fight the urge to admire them. She watches as they laugh along with something their friend said, tilting their head back as the cheerful noise rings out. She finds herself smiling along, imagining what it would be like to make them laugh like that; it's a uniquely wonderful sound, and she can't help but adore it.

They lean across the blanket they're sitting on and dig through a picnic basket, retrieving what seems to be a sandwich packaged up in plastic wrap. One of their friends exaggeratedly thanks them, tackling them to the ground in a messy hug with a shout of gratitude that even Jisoo can hear from across the square.

"Earth to Jisoo!" Jennie says, raising her voice slightly as she snaps her fingers in front of the unnie. The former jolts back to attention with a little jump, clearing her throat to gather her thoughts.

"You know, you could always go talk to him. I've heard he's sweet." She tells the other girl, noticing the look of longing that's befallen her features.

"Yeah, Joy has Art with him on Thursdays. I think his name's Jeong or something like that." Lisa butts in before taking another lick of her ice cream.

Despite being so smart, the girls are really oblivious sometimes; Jisoo wasn't looking at him at all. She was looking at you.

She doesn't know if now is the right time to tell them that, though. She hasn't officially come out to them, but she isn't afraid that they won't accept her -- she just wants that moment to be special, and sweating in the middle of the campus square doesn't seem like the golden opportunity that she's been hoping for.

"Just eat your treats, knuckleheads." She concludes, taking a spoonful of the shaved ice she opted for instead of ice cream. The truck had multiple types of treats, with all kinds of different toppings and flavorings lining the walls.

"Okay…" Rosé trails off before adding, "but don't say we didn't try to help when you start wishing you had said something later." Jisoo uses her spoon to lower the one that Rosie had raised accusingly at her, reassuring the girl that she'd be fine.

She knows it's a lie, though; as the 4 of them later toss their trash in the bins and make their way to the student council room, Jisoo sneaks a last wistful glance at you, wishing she would've had the courage to start a conversation.

3.) One Step Closer

Friday, 1:34 PM -- A Few Days Later

"Hey, Minji. How many do we have today?" You wave at what kids have already been dropped off, your presence making their little faces light up with joy.

Your coworker responds from across the room, tossing a couple stray toys into their labeled baskets to keep the space tidy. "10 or so, I think. The last ones should be arriving soon." You nod and take off your coat, setting your things in one of the small cubbies against the wall just beyond the entrance.

"Y/N!" A small voice shouts from behind the counter, hidden from view. You smile deeply when you realize who it is, and you quickly dart around the corner to say hello. His chubby hands cover his mouth, but they do little in hiding his adorable grin. "Seungbum! How's my little munchkin?!" He squeals and runs into your arms, giggling loudly when you pick him up and spin him around. His dark hair sways from side to side with the movement, the slight waves sticking out in random places. A few seconds later, he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls back to look at you, settling into your secure hold.

"Can we play when Jia gets here? I promised her I'd show her the new trick I learned, but I wanna show you, too."

You smile at the sweet sentiment. "Of course, buddy. As long as you eat well at snack time, we can play however much you want." You raise an eyebrow at him, showing your authority, before saying, "I saw you put your veggies in your pocket last time and skip to dessert, so it'd better not happen again." He lowers his head after realizing he had been caught, and a hint of redness flushes his cheeks in embarrassment.

"Okay Y/N-yah."

You tickle him to make sure he knows you aren't mad at him, and soon he's laughing again. "Now, go wash your hands and get settled at the table, please."

"Yes ma'am." His tiny sneakers squeak against the floor as he races off towards one of the lowered sinks that borders the kitchen wall, and you shake your head with a smile.

Not even a second later, you feel a soft tug at your pant leg, and you turn around to find the source.

A head of brilliantly auburn hair is the first thing you see, and its shade compliments the child's outfit perfectly. "Hi sweetheart. Are you new?" You squat down to the young girl's level, noting how she shyly toys with her fingers as they rest in front of her. She nods, the movement so subtle that you almost don't notice it.

"My name's Y/N, and that awesome lady over there," you lean closer to her and point towards your coworker, "...is Minji. You can stay with us today, or you can play with the others, okay?" She nods again, her mannerisms letting you know just how shy she really is. Gently taking one of her hands, you hold it and look at her with a reassuring smile, asking, "Will you tell me your name?"

"I'm Aera." She meekly says, only maintaining eye contact for a second or two.

"That's a beautiful name," you compliment, seeing progress as she lightly smiles at your words. "And I love your bow," you add, touching the delicate material that rests near her ear, nestled into her straight locks. It has cherry blossoms and butterflies on it, all vibrant and neatly colored.

"Thank you, I picked it out myself." She perks up a bit now, raising her head to look at you with a proud smile. "Wow, really?" You put on an impressed expression, wanting to boost her confidence even more. "You'll have to help me choose one the next time I go shopping, then. You're great at it." The praise makes her chuckle, and her eyes squint into soft crescents in the process.

After stealing a glance at the table where everyone else has already gathered, you realize that they're waiting on you to start. "Alright, Aera, it's time to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to sit with me, or are you ready to be with the others?" You tilt your head to the side, asking the question softly so she doesn't feel overwhelmed. Having had this job for a while, you've gotten the hang of adjusting your behavior to put them at ease.

"With you," she says, growing a little timid again at the idea of mingling with them yet. "That's perfectly fine." You reassure her, smiling one more time before standing and leading her to the room. Her hand remains clutched in yours, wiggling around slightly from the height difference as she looks around.

"Who's ready for some snacks?" Minji asks the group, laughing when they all raise their hands and get excited. Their high pitched voices carry around the room as they discuss what foods they want to trade with each other, and soon everyone is happily munching away. You rub Aera's back sweetly as she eats some cucumber sticks, swinging her feet through the air beneath the short chair you retrieved from the table for her. She looks up into your eyes with a smile, melting your heart with the cuteness of her full cheeks. You squish them before turning away, feeling your 6th sense kick in as you scan your eyes across the rest of the group.

"Seungbum…" you warn, catching the way he's mischievously eyeing the carrots laid out before him on the table. He pokes at one of them and sighs, eventually giving in as he takes a hesitant bite of it. With some more convincing, he finishes the rest of the pack and gets started on his dessert.

----

Honestly, you feel sorry for the birds outside.

They must have had hundreds of mini heart attacks upon hearing the somehow earth-shattering roar of the 10 young kids, all blasting out the side door towards the playground. Some of them automatically race towards the swings or slides, while others approach the basket of toys and sports equipment. Aera, however, hangs back, her entire hand wrapped around just a few of your fingers. "What do you wanna do?" She shrugs, looking around at the different activities that the others are already starting.

"I can push you on the swings, or we could race. There're some monkey bars and a merry-go-round, too, that nobody's using right now." You suggest, hoping to catch her interest with one of them. Her attention snaps up to you at that last option, and she dramatically drops her jaw. "Did you say merry-go-round?" You nod with an amused grin, laughing when she lets out a cute noise of joy. After pointing her in the direction of it, she dashes off ahead of you and makes her way to it, only stopping to make sure you're still coming with her once she gets there.

"Hold on tight, little one." You advise, cheering when she giggles in anticipation. Her chuckles fill the airwaves as you spin the bar around, making sure not to pull too hard and make her too dizzy. You were once a kid, too, though, so you make it a point to add some serious speed every now and then to keep her entertained and happy. You remember playing on these all day when you were her age.

---

"Auntie!" Aera shrieks, excitedly thundering towards the fence that borders the playground. You finish cheering Seungbum on after watching his trick, grinning as he tries to flirt with Jia; she looks impressed. You turn around at Aera's commotion, feeling your eyes practically pop out of your head at who you see standing on the other side.

"How was your day, my love?" Jisoo asks sweetly, leaning over the metal divider to run a hand through her niece's hair lovingly. She still hasn't noticed your presence, and for that you don't know if you're relieved or saddened. Watching her interact with the young girl is quite adorable, though, and you're distracted from your personal gay panic for the time being.

"I've had so much fun. And Y/N-yah said she likes my hair clip! I told you this one was prettier than the one with just trees on it!" Aera says smugly, happy to have her decision pay off and prove her aunt wrong. Jisoo tenses up, not expecting to hear your name right now. Seeing that this is her first time picking Aera up, she had no idea you work at the daycare; though she'd be lying to say that it comes as a surprise -- you're a very warm person, so it's no wonder that you're good with kids.

As per Aera's request, you walk across the playground and join her in front of Jisoo. Now it's your turn to be shy; you sneak a glance at the student council president and immediately feel your cheeks heat up, so you busy yourself by patting Aera on the head. She hugs your leg and settles against your side, causing Jisoo to raise her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Y/N. She usually doesn't open up to new people very easily."

"Ah, I'm surprised that such a cool girl like her wanted to hang out with me." You tease, tickling her side lightly when she hides behind the material of your shirt. "Do you want to come in and see what she drew today? She's definitely skilled." You suggest, trying not to sound too hopeful as you muster up the courage to look at Jisoo again. She's already smiling at you, a soft sort of adoration shining in her eyes as they rake over your features. She accepts your offer, and you walk over to the gate to let her in. Aera demands that you carry her, so you scoop her up into your arms as you make your way back into the daycare center. Her head sits on your shoulder, and you can feel her playfully making faces at Jisoo the entire way; her tiny frame jolts with each loud giggle she lets out, and the sound makes you smile.

---

"Yeah, she was my sidekick for the day." You respond to Jisoo, continuing your conversation as you watch Aera remove her drawing from the cork board that she taped it to earlier. Displaying the kids' artwork is something that you advocated for when you first began working here, and you're so glad you did; they always get excited to share their works.

"She's a lucky girl, then." She says, doing her best to ignore the feeling of your eyes on her. Focusing on anything other than you is already hard enough for her, but she knows there'd be no hope left if she gives in now.

"Y/N helped me draw this. She doodled Dalgom in the corner," Aera cheerily says, breaking the slight tension in the air as she approaches the table. Most of the other kids have already been picked up, and Minji's watching the handful that haven't.

"It's not very good," you cringe, scratching the back of your neck. You've seen him a few times since the beginning of the year, whether it be on walks across campus with Jisoo, or perched on her desk during "bring your pet to class" day.

"It's adorable; Dalgomie will be honored when I show it to him." Jisoo says with a nod, shutting down your insecurities within a second. You fail to contain the laugh that slips past your lips, disbelief present in your voice as you ask, "You're going to show him?" She looks at you like you have 3 heads. "It would be a disgrace not to."

With a breathy chuckle, you say, "You're so strange. I like it, though."

Jisoo smiles at that, and the three of you discuss all of the fun things you did that day. Jisoo tells you about the classes she had to sit through, and even how she stepped in gum and had to borrow a pair of Rosé's shoes.

---

All good things must come to an end, though, and after about half an hour of talking, it was time to say goodbye.

You lead them out the door and down the sidewalk as per Aera's request, yet again (that child is basically a mini dictator at this point, but she's cute so she gets a free pass). As she rustles around her bag in search of her keys, Jisoo accidentally knocks her earbud case out, sending it tumbling to the ground. "Oh! Here, I'll grab it for you." You kindly offer, stepping past her to retrieve it from the grass. She takes it from you with a word of gratitude uttered in that angelic voice of hers, and you begin your goodbyes upon hearing Minji call your name.

"I'll see you around, Jisoo. And Aera, I expect to see you next week." You wiggle a finger at the little girl, donning a shocked expression when she pretends to bite it. "Can't you tell we're related?" Jisoo asks with a smile, ruffling her niece's hair. "The resemblance is uncanny," you laugh, watching as both of them join in with you.

"Y/N, come on!" Minji whines, sounding like a toddler herself. You initially go to brush off her request in order to spend a few more seconds with the two of them, but when she stands in the doorway, entering your line of sight, you see why she's so desperate for your help -- two of the children still waiting on their parents are climbing on her, about to knock her over at any second. Her face is beet red from the effort she's exerting, and her hair is mussed wildly.

"Oh shhh---" you start, catching yourself when Jisoo widens her eyes at you and goes to cover Aera's ears, "--shiitake mushrooms!" You finish with a nervous smile, gaining a stunned laugh from your crush. "Bye girls; gotta go. I'm on my way, Minji!" You call out like a superhero, running to her aid as fast as your legs will carry you.

Jisoo watches you wrangle one of the squirmy kids off of her and initiate a tickle fight to distract him and give Minji time to deal with the other one. She smiles like a dork at your actions, realizing she would be content with watching you all day. You're a natural with them, and seeing you in action is something she wishes she had the chance to do more often. With that, she turns around and picks Aera up; the youngster nuzzles into her embrace, lazily slumping onto her after having such a tiring day. As Jisoo goes to take a step forward, she notices something on the ground: a piece of paper. It's been folded neatly many times, and it reminds her of the notes she would always pass to her friends back in elementary school. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she can't resist the urge to pick it up.

"To The Girl Who'll Never Know I Love Her"

Her eyes scan across the words and she unfolds the note, making sure to keep a steady grip on Aera with her other arm. An almost unnoticeable signature is scribbled in the bottom corner, and she nearly scares Aera by squealing in pleasant surprise.

It's your name, curled into the letters that are so uniquely yours; the paper must've fallen out of your pocket when you bent down to get her case earlier.

After buckling her niece into her car seat and climbing into the driver's seat, Jisoo unfolds the note again and begins reading. She's like a giddy kid all over again, and part of her feels bad for giving into temptation. She reasons with herself by promising to give it back to you the next time she sees you, and that manages to rid her conscience of some of the guilt she feels. For now, though, she's eager to see what it contains.

The first thing to catch her eye is a poem written neatly underneath a doodle of a rabbit, likely serving as some sort of label. Everyone on campus knows of her nickname and resemblance to rabbits, and she can't help but hope that your drawing wasn't simply a coincidence.

Poison, is what you are

A bittersweet mix, intoxicatingly beautiful

For one glance from you

Steals every breath I had so foolishly believed was mine to take

For one smile from you

Sends me reeling, falling all over again

She nearly swoons at the words, rereading them multiple times over and imagining you saying them to her. She wonders how the syllables would fall from your lips, which ones you'd stress to alter the meaning into whatever you imagined when you wrote them. Whether or not they're written for her, she may never know; all she's aware of right now is how they make her feel, and how that feeling is one that she never wants to stop experiencing.

4.) Practice Makes Perfect

2 Weeks, 3 Exams, and 1 Mental Breakdown Later

"Coming!" You call out, using all of your strength to push your rolling chair away from your desk and across the room towards the door.

"Y/N L/N, at your service," you say, doing a little bow in your seat. Upon looking up to see who's in front of you, your eyes lock with the same girl who's been living in your mind rent free ever since you met her.

"Jisoo!" You announce a little louder than intended, scrambling up into a standing position before kicking the chair backwards. You wince when it collides with something behind you, filling the room with noise as a few of your knick knacks clatter to the floor. Jisoo has to fight to contain the smile on her lips, pursing them as she looks towards the ground so as to not embarrass you.

It's too late though -- you've already made a fool of yourself, and right in front of your crush, no less.

"What can I do for you?" You ask, finally relaxing your face from its previously scrunched up position.

"Are you busy right now? I have a favor to ask and you might be the only person who can help me out." Her eyebrows raise inquisitively at you, quirking up in that special way they always do when she's focusing in class.

She could ask you to do just about anything, and you'd be agreeing without hesitation; no questions asked.

"N-no, just doing a little studying is all. How can I help?" You'd normally curse yourself for sounding so shy, but she looks especially gorgeous tonight and you can't even blame yourself for it. The fluorescent bulbs of the dorm's hallway fail to even put a dent in the glow she's radiating, and that's no small feat -- those horrible little things are usually capable of making anyone look bad, and yet, once again, Jisoo manages to break the mold.

"Mrs. Choi assigned a rehearsal for me tonight, and I need a peer to score how well I do. I trust you to do it." She says, having no idea how much her words are affecting you.

Review portions of the semester are crucial to every major's success, but arguably none so much as those studying to be actors. The peer and admin reviews that they receive account for a large chunk of their grade, so you can imagine how nerve-racking it would be to put that kind of power in someone else's hands. You're touched that she trusts you with it.

"I'd love to help, Jisoo. Just curious, though: why don't you have one of the girls help? They probably know more about it than me, after all." Everyone knows how close JenChuLiChaeng are, so her decision to choose you is genuinely intriguing.

Shit. For some reason, Jisoo hadn't anticipated that you'd ask that question. The thought had never crossed her mind earlier, when she was preoccupied with convincing herself to come in the first place, so she has to think something up on the fly.

"They're all busy with work. Couldn't afford to lose any precious cramming time, you know?" She says, a hint of nervousness behind the small laugh she lets out. It's uncharacteristic for her, considering she's usually so confident all the time, but you think it's adorable.

"Ryujin's the same way," you tease, turning your head to look at your roommate. She's across the room on her bed, reading through her book as she holds her middle finger up to let you know she heard your comment. "What a sweetie," you coo, blowing a kiss at her that makes her roll her eyes and smile despite herself. She pretends to be hardcore, but after spending the past few months with her you've discovered that she's actually the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll.

"Well," you say, turning back to Jisoo, "when do you have to start?"

She pulls her sleeve back to glance at her watch before returning her gaze to you. "Gotta be back at the dorm in 10 minutes."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the inner honor student in you already panicking. "10 minutes?! It's all the way across campus, Jisoo!"

She laughs at you now, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "I'm kidding; we still have a couple hours. You should've seen your face, though. Priceless."

"That's no way to treat someone who practically has your grade resting in their hands." You say smugly, a little smirk playing on your lips when her jaw drops dramatically.

"You wouldn't dare," she narrows her eyes, referencing the notion that you might give her bad marks because of that little prank.

"Maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps I'll be merciful if you take me to get something to eat first."

"Food as a peace offering? Alright, I can do that."

You smile, doing a dorky little cheer at that. "Okay, I'll be right out; just give me a second to make myself look presentable."

Jisoo accepts your words with a curt nod, but she wants to tell you that you already look more than presentable. When you first opened the door earlier and she saw you in your study glasses, she couldn't help but smile like a fool; you're adorable, especially to her, and she wishes you could see that.

A couple minutes later you exit your dorm and find her leaned up against the hallway wall, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Is she nervous?

"So, where would you like to go?" You ask, pulling the thin material of your jacket over your shoulders. It's lightweight -- seeing as how the weather doesn't call for a large one -- and it feels soft against your skin.

As the two of you fall into step with each other, she responds, "It's up to you, princess. Since I'm at your mercy and all." Her smirk is visible in your peripheral.

The nickname causes your heart to flutter in your chest, thudding around even harder than it had before. "U-uh, how about the noodle place?" You suggest, trying not to cringe at the stutter in your voice. You've heard that she likes chicken and ramen, and that shop is known as the best restaurant on campus for it.

"110%. You know me so well," she says dreamily, batting her eyelashes at you with a silly smile.

"Called it," you retort, brushing your shoulder off nonchalantly. "Now come on, I'm hungry and ready to spend all of your money." Her hand slips into yours when you reach down for it, almost instinctively, feeling like it was meant to be there all along, and you tug her down the hallway towards the elevator.

----

"I know! If Mr. Johnson assigns another project like that then I'll politely be jumping out a window."

Jisoo laughs at how animated you are, even having to stop chewing her mouthful of food momentarily to make sure she doesn't choke. She really loves hanging out with you; you make everything fun, and all of the stress she feels on a daily basis seems to vanish into thin air.

"I did pretty bad on that last one," Jisoo adds, grimacing as she remembers her score.

"You literally got a 93 out of 100, shut up." You shake your head with an amused smile, reaching across the table to snatch a piece of gimbap from her plate.

"Hey--" she goes to yell at you, but her phone vibrates against the table, successfully stopping her.

"Hello?" She answers, silently starting a chopstick war with you when you reach for another piece. When the person on the other end begins talking, she stops playing in order to concentrate on what they're saying.

"Did she cancel?" She asks, furrowing her brow as her lips form into a natural pout. She sighs, rubbing her temple gently as the conversation continues. "Okay, I'm out with a friend right now, but you can go ahead and head that way. We'll meet you there. Alright, love you, too. Bye."

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly requesting info about what new plan you're being involved in. "That was my brother; the babysitter cancelled on them last minute, so we have to watch Aera for a few hours." Jisoo loves her niece dearly, but she can't deny that she wanted to spend the evening alone with you. She's afraid the little girl will steal all of your attention away, as childish as that may seem.

"You're such a good person," you compliment, only to frown when she brushes off your words. "I mean it, Jisoo. You always take care of everybody around you; it's admirable. Now take the compliment or I'll team up with Aera later and tease you."

She rolls her eyes with a smile, saying, "You're gonna do that regardless."

"That's not the point," you pout, stomping your foot on the ground lightly.

"Fine; tis I, Jisoo, the greatest person in all of existence. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." You beam at her, returning back to your cheery self. "I'll go grab some boxes for us, okay?" She nods, and you scurry off on your mission.

----

Back At Jisoo's Dorm

Images flash across the large, flatscreen TV mounted to the wall across from you, displaying scenes of whatever cartoon the network decided to air right now. Aera isn't being picky; she's content with sitting in your lap, mindlessly fidgeting with the necklace that loosely dangles from your neck as she remains entranced by the screen. Your arms are around her to make her feel secure, and her small frame racks against you with every sweet giggle she lets out anytime a new joke is told by one of her favorite characters.

Jisoo observes from the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop to settle in while she waits for Aera's favorite snack to heat up. She watches as you point to various things on the TV, having her name the ones she knows and teaching her others that she doesn't.

She loves seeing you like this. You're beaming in that special way that sets her heart on fire, and the flames are only fanned when you turn to look at her. Somehow, the sight reminds her of the first time she met you:

It was orientation week -- the beginning of the school year -- and you were taking a tour around campus with some of your friends. You were lucky to have them; you'd only kept in contact with a handful of people from high school, knowing full well that most of those relationships were only rooted in superficiality, never meant to last. But this motley crew was different; they saw you for you, and all of you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It didn't have the same air of awkward tension as the fake friendships had -- this was real and honest, and you thanked your lucky stars for them on the daily.

All of you had managed to get into your dream schools, and the reality was bittersweet; you'd all be moving away from each other and beginning your own lives, having less and less time for each other in the process. You were beyond proud of them, and yourself, for that matter, but it still hurt to think that they wouldn't be just a few blocks away anymore. That you couldn't just swing by their house to go on a late night drive through the city like you used to. As exciting as your new experiences were bound to be, part of you was terrified; your life up until now had been fairly safe, creating a little security blanket to protect you from all that life had in store, but now you were on your own and the idea was a bit daunting. The memories you made together comforted you, though, and kept the sadness at bay.

"Dude, this place is sick. How did you manage to make it in again?"

"Because she's smart, dumbass. We should be asking you that question."

"Ouch, (Friend's Name), that hurt."

"Do you still have those chips from earlier? I'm starving over here."

"Yeah, here, they're in my bag."

Pockets of separate conversations can be heard from behind you, all of your friends chatting away while you walk ahead of them, map and schedule in hand. The campus is fairly large, and with so many buildings and classrooms it's easy to get confused. You continue walking, running a finger along the map to trace the path you intend to take towards the Help Center.

In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that you're headed straight for a trash can that sits on the sidewalk, mere seconds away from colliding with it.

A passerby notices just in the nick of time, reaching an arm out in front of you to prevent the accident with a noise of warning. You tense up, not expecting the sudden interruption, and look up into the eyes of your savior. Her dark orbs peer back at you, an innocent gleam in them when she sees your lips slowly tug into a smile.

She mirrors your actions, neither of you saying anything yet. You couldn't utter a word even if you wanted to; her beauty leaves you speechless.

"That was close," she says quietly, only to you. Your friends have almost caught up with you now, still busy with their own conversations, though they'll tease you once they see a gorgeous stranger's arm wrapped around you.

"Thank you," you breathe out, clearing your throat as you take a step away from her.

"Ooh, who's this, Y/N?" One of your friends coos, garnering a chorus of childish "oohs" and kissy noises from the others. Why are they so obnoxious?

You apologetically glance at the girl one more time before turning around to respond to them, but she speaks up before you can.

"Kim Jisoo." She introduces, facing them with a wide smile. It's easy to see that she's done this before; her tone is pleasant and light, not even a hint of hesitancy in it. She's used to being the center of attention; you can tell by the way she carries herself and commands the space.

"I see you guys are taking a tour, right?" She looks between all of you, though her eyes linger on you for a second too long to be brushed off as 'just friendly'.

You nod, saying, "I can't find my last class. It's a Gen Ed one; World History, room 435. The map says it's in Complex D, but the room was vacant when we went by."

She listens intently, paying attention to your every word. "They must've handed out the old maps by accident, then. Mr. Johnson had to move rooms to accommodate larger class sizes. When do you have him?"

You unfold your schedule again, gazing down at the slightly crumpled sheet until your eyes find their target. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, 1PM."

Upon registering what you said, Jisoo does her best to contain the grin that threatens to spread across her face. "Ah, same as me! I can take you to the room, if you'd like. That way you can find it next week." She offers, pleased by the fact that she'll be seeing you more often. Your cute mannerisms have already thrown her for a loop, and she wants to get to know you better.

"That would be great." You let out a relieved laugh, releasing the worry you felt; tours are meant to end within 20 minutes or so, and before Jisoo came you were afraid you'd never find your last class. She's saving the day again, it seems.

"Great, follow me," she smiles warmly, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to turn you in the right direction. When you give your friends one last glance over your shoulder, you find them giving you thumbs up with smirks on their faces. One of them puckers their lips at you, and you stick your tongue out in return.

You're not sure what they'll end up doing while you finish your tour, though it'll likely involve either skating or eating fast food. They have each other to keep themselves entertained, so you're not worried about them in the slightest. You make a mental note to text them when you're done to meet up again.

Jisoo smiles like an idiot when she realizes what's happening behind her, failing miserably to hide it when you spin back around and give your full attention to her.

"What?" You ask, leaning in closer to her to nudge her shoulder when she looks away, blushing.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, only to be prompted by you again. "You're just cute, is all."

You have to use all your power to hold back the squeal you want to let out at hearing that. Kim Jisoo, as you now know her to be, thinks you're cute? You must be dreaming.

"That's funny, I don't remember turning into a mirror."

"Yah, babo!" She chuckles, not expecting that as she smacks the back of your head with no real force. The two of you share a laugh and continue talking while you make your way to the room.

Beeping sounds from the microwave bring Jisoo back down to Earth, causing the pleasant memory to fade more and more with every incessant signal that cuts through the air. She grabs a couple heat guards and approaches the machine, carefully opening the steaming package and pouring its contents into a big, shareable bowl. Though it may be Aera's favorite food, she'd be damned to not make enough for the two of you as well. After all, keeping her entertained will take plenty of energy.

"Did this princess order one heaping bowl of popcorn or am I at the wrong castle?" Jisoo plays, padding into the room with a bright smile on her face as she looks over at her niece. The smell of her snack snaps Aera back to reality, making her eyes light up with pure joy as she leaps off of your lap and runs to Jisoo. She wraps her arms around her legs, thanking her in that sweet little voice of hers as she gazes up at her aunt with stars in her eyes.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She chants, wiggling her body around in excitement. She lets go when Jisoo goes to walk to the couch, following close behind her like an eager puppy.

She approaches you again, making grabby hands for you to lift her onto your lap even though she's more than capable of getting up there by herself. Nevertheless, you pull her up with a humored grin, watching as she puts her hands in her lap and patiently waits for the two of you to get a bite first. Her ability to follow manners is commendable, though the slight twitch of her lip when she gets a whiff of the food is pretty adorable.

"Dig in," you say around your mouthful of food, locking eyes with Jisoo when Aera jumps at the opportunity to follow your instructions. You never have to tell her twice when it comes to food.

"Yep, definitely related."

Jisoo laughs at your comment, reaching over top of Aera to flick you in the forehead. She shrugs at your pained exclamation, uttering a nonchalant "Sorry, not sorry," as the two of you crack up together.

----

"Y/N, how the hell did you manage to do that?" Jisoo whispers, not bothering to censor herself when she sees Aera fast asleep in your arms. It's not like she could hear her anyway.

"She was already kinda tired when she got here; I just made sure to get that last little bit of energy out with the games. Have you forgotten that I know a thing or two about kids?" You tease, turning to her with a smile when you finish walking up the short staircase.

"You don't understand: usually it takes us hours to settle her down. She's just a totally different person around you."

"Must be my awesomeness."

"Hmm, must be," Jisoo hums, quietly opening her bedroom door for you and watching as you carefully lay Aera down. You tuck her under the blankets with care, making sure to brush the hair out of her face and adjust her pillow a bit. Jisoo leans against the doorframe, adding the scene before her to her list of reasons for loving you. Seeing you in such a domestic situation gives her baby fever, and she has to push the persistent feeling away.

"Ready?" You whisper with one last look over your shoulder, giving Jisoo your undivided attention once you confirm that Aera's alright.

"Let's do it," she says, pulling the door to but not latching it. The two of you will be in the living room, just down the hall, and you want to be able to hear her in case she needs something. So responsible.

You take in the dorm as Jisoo leads you towards your destination, amazed at how much bigger it is than yours and Ryujin's. This one has separate rooms equipped with their own personal bathrooms, a decent kitchen, and, of course, a living area. Clearly, having ties to the school and being president of the student council come with some major perks. Your socked feet pad against the hardwood floor, and you close what little distance is left between Jisoo and yourself to press your body against her back, wrapping your arms around her. She lets out a little noise of surprise, but doesn't protest; she tucks one of her hands into your clasped ones and uses the other to rub your forearm.

A few moments later you plop down onto the couch and get comfortable on the cushions. Jisoo digs around in her bag that leans against the tv stand, searching for the script of her upcoming production. Her shirt rides up slightly, giving you a perfect view of her beautifully sculpted stomach, and her skin looks ethereal as it glows in the soft lamplight of the room. Embarrassed for admiring her in such a way, you avert your gaze, failing to notice how she subtly bites her lip as she approaches you; she planned that little show, and it worked.

"Okay, so here's the scoring sheet," she hands you a semi-formal looking paper, along with a pencil and clipboard to use as a stabilizer. "I'll be reading from the first few pages on my own, but I was wondering if you'd fill in for the male lead for some of the other parts? It's a lot easier to get into character if I have someone's energy to feed off of."

You smile at how cute she sounded with her little rambled request, and nod. "Of course, Jisoo. I doubt I'll be any good, though." She releases a sigh at that, happy to have you agree; her plan is coming along nicely, but there's always room for things to go wrong.

"I'm sure you're better than you think."

"Stop sucking up, Chu. Flattery won't make me raise your grade," you warn, pointing the pencil at her sternly. Your tone sends a shiver down her spine, though it goes unnoticed by you.

"Let's just get started." She concludes, doing her best to keep from getting too flustered under your already watchful eye.

----

Her show is well underway, caught somewhere towards the end of act two, and you're enthralled by the performance she's giving. The paper that once rested in your lap is marked up with comments of praise and proud annotations to accompany your high scoring, though now it lays forgotten about on the coffee table, serving no purpose any longer. You finished all of the required sections necessary for your peer review, and now you're just enjoying the journey that Jisoo is continuing to take you on.

You look back up into her eyes after reading off the lines of the character you're filling in for, looking completely unskilled next to the pure talent that she's exuding. She stands from the couch, looking down at you with an exasperated expression as she remains in character.

"You don't get it!" She raises her voice slightly, though not loud enough to wake Aera. Even while in the intense mindset she has to be in for her character, she keeps one foot in the reality of this world, making sure to behave appropriately.

"Enlighten me, then." You stand and retort, shifting a bit closer to her after reciting your line.

"Only when I'm with you do I feel true happiness. Your kind eyes bring me comfort like no other; I'm safe in your arms. For you, my love," she pauses, her eyes brimming with tears from the emotional words she's spent so much time rehearsing. "...there isn't a thing in this world that I wouldn't do." Your breath is held tightly in your throat, and your hands subconsciously grip onto the material of your jeans.

Only now do you realize how close the two of you have migrated to one another; she's merely a breath away, so close you can feel the warmth radiating from her. You swallow thickly, feeling your nerves come alive with every second that passes in heated silence, neither of you knowing what to do now. You've lost the desire to read your next line, and she doesn't seem too upset by that fact. Her eyes slowly scan over your features, and the lovesick look in them makes you question if she's still in character or slipping out of it.

After her gaze darts down to your lips and she licks her own without even realizing it, you seriously begin hoping for the latter of the two options.

She searches your face for any sign of refusal as she leans in closer, now bringing her arms up to wrap around your waist and lightly ball the material of your shirt up into her fists. Your hands rest on her shoulders, and you glide your fingertips over her jawline. A singular nod is the last form of consent that you give her before she pulls you closer.

Her lips ghost over yours, receiving some of the vanilla balm you applied earlier; her breath hitches when you tug at the collar of her university sweater, teasingly taking her bottom lip between your teeth. She wants to savor this moment, so she fights against her urge to dive right in and get lost in you.

Within seconds, she's kicking herself for that decision.

"Auntie? Y/N?" Aera calls sleepily from just around the corner, making the two of you spring away from each other. When she appears less than a second later, you realize how close you had been to getting caught. Jisoo refuses to meet your gaze when you look towards her, and that simple action disheartens you a bit.

"Hey, sweetheart. Bad dream?" You ask, using your inference skills after noticing the way that she's clutching her stuffed bunny close to her chest. Her lip trembles as she nods, and the sight breaks your heart. Quickly, you pick her up again, assuring her that she's safe and that you'd slay any monster that dared to hurt her, even in her dreams. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she brings a fist up to rub her eye. "How about this: I'll do a quadruple check of the room for you, and stay with you until you fall asleep. Sound good?"

She utters a tired, "Yes, Y/N-yah", before laying her head on your shoulder and waving a goodbye towards Jisoo as you take her back to the room.

Four sweeps of the room and one fight with a ghost later, you tuck her in again and lay a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Love you," she mumbles lazily, making your heart melt. Kids say that phrase quickly, without even realizing the weight that it has, but you're always glad to accept whatever they imagine it to be. Whether she loves you for playing with her, tucking her in, or defending her honor against imaginary monsters, you don't really care all that much -- she loves you in the ways that she knows how, and that's all that matters.

"I love you, too, Aera. Sleep well." You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and settle against the wall, prepared to come through on your promise.

----

"Hey," you start, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"Hey," Jisoo returns, pushing her leftovers from the restaurant around her plate half-heartedly. You approach the marble countertop that she sits behind, silently begging for her to look up at you.

"Should we talk about earlier?" You quietly ask, picking at imaginary imperfections on the surface of the countertop.

"What about it?"

"We practically kissed--"

"It was in the script to do so, Y/N." She says, finally looking up at you. She sounds a bit hostile now, like she's getting defensive for some unknown reason.

"Oh," the simple utterance is all you can manage, seeing as how your brain is running a mile a minute. You want to ask if it meant anything else to her -- if she would've taken it farther, had Aera not walked in -- but you don't. Her tone serves as enough of an answer, and you're not sure you could stand to hear her verbalize your fears anyway.

"Well I guess I should go, then." You retract your hand and put it in your pocket, realizing how stupid you were for thinking she could like you back. She doesn't; she was just in need of a helping hand tonight, and you offered that. You shouldn't have tried to turn it into anything that it wasn't.

Hearing the disappointment in your voice makes her want to confess right then and there, but something still holds her back -- some force is yelling at her to keep her feelings hidden for fear of rejection. "I can drive you."

You shake your head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll have Ryujin come get me. You can't leave Aera here and I wouldn't want to have to wake her up just for you to drive me across campus." Jisoo agrees, realizing that she didn't even think about that at first.

"Goodnight, Jisoo." You say, heading off towards the front door. She returns the gesture, reminding you to be safe as she locks it behind you and watches you dial up your roommate's number. Before long, she pulls into one of the parking spaces in front of the dorm, and the two of you drive away.

Click Here For Part 2

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

at the coastline of memories

For the longest time, Hange had been lost.

(or a fic about amnesiac!hange, based on that one ask i’ve received ages ago)

Hange wakes up, and the world is still dark. She blindly reaches to the bedside table, lights up the gas lamp on, grabs her glasses and puts them on. The world comes into focus and Hange glances at the opposite wall, checking the time.

4:32

She curls her lips in a slight smile. She woke up just in time.

She swings her legs of the bed and yawns, stretching her limbs. She gets up and heads to the kitchen, putting a kettle on a stove and firing it up.

While the kettle heats up, she moves to the bathroom, grabbing a soothing balm on her way.

Once there, Hange takes off her glasses and starts applying the balm, carefully smearing it all over her face.

The burns don't hurt anymore, at least not as much as they did in the beginning. Hange learned how to live with it just as she learned how to live with not knowing how she had received these burns or how she got there - to the middle of nowhere, on a coastline next to a ruined structure that she could only guess was once a port.

Finished with her face, Hange moves to her hands, applying the balm to the inside of her fingers and the backside of her palm. The balm cools her still tender wounds and Hange softly signs, relishing in the pleasant feeling.

The whistle of a kettle shakes her up and Hange whirls around, hurrying to turn it off. She gives another look at the clock, worrying her lip between teeth as she sees that it's past quarter to five. It's only the beginning of spring and the sun doesn't raise up that early at this time of year, but Hange feels a pressing need to hurry. She can't be late, not today, not after she spent weeks, chasing the mysterious man.

The man that had been visiting Hange's cabin for as long as she was living there. He brings her food, medicine, clothes and other supplies. Sometimes he even goes as far as to bring her little gifts - books, flowers and sweets.

He never shows his face, though. He never approaches Hange, never talks with her. Whenever she attempts to catch him, he disappears without a trace. She has only ever seen him from far, in the rare moments when she was lucky enough to catch him leaving her cabin. Frustratingly so, he does his best to remain hidden.

Hange doesn't understand it. The man - for whatever reason - obviously cares about her. Then why is he so dead set on staying away? Why doesn't he let her express her gratitude at least?

She thinks every night about it. She curses her mind for forgetting.

Her previous life exists only in the flashes of sound and images. They're bright, loud, blurry and swift. Hange can't make sense of them no matter how hard she tries. It frustrates her to no end, makes her want to tear out what little hair is left out on her scalp, but nothing comes back to her.

She's sure that the man is important, she's almost sure that he was a part of her old life. What reason does he have to help her now after all?

But the man doesn't want to see her, and Hange needs to see him, so she resorts to different methods. He won't be running away from her anymore, she is going to make sure of that.

With that in mind, Hange pours hot water in two cups, adding tea leaves to it. She throws some sugar in her cup, but hesitates to do the same with the cup she's preparing for that man. She doesn't know why, but it feels wrong.

Your sugary shit destroys the true essence of tea, she suddenly remembers. For the life of her, she can't recall who has said that to her. Or when. Or why.

Deciding to tackle this issue some other time, Hange goes back into the room, wraps a blanket around her shoulders and then takes the cups with steaming tea.

Pushing the front door open with her leg, she comes out on a porch and breathes in deeply, savoring the fresh, crisp air. She puts the cups down on a small table and settles down in a rocking chair, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. Hange shivers slightly, the morning chill freezing her fingers and toes.

She hides them inside the warm cocoon of a thick fabric and turns her eyes to the horizon. The stars slowly disappear, showing a narrow strip of golden light. It paints the sea below it in a gentle purple color.

A smile pulls on her lips as she continues to watch the sunrise. Hange sits back in a chair, rocking slightly. She glances to one side, then to another. Confirming that the coast is clear, she allows herself to close her eyes for just a second.

Just a second, and the world around her is dark again.

***

Hange groans, shielding her eyes from a light shining right at her. She looks up and nearly jumps. The sun is high in the sky. She was going to rest just for a bit. For how long that bit had lasted?

She swirls her head from side to side. The coastline is clear. Already clear. There is no one there, and she is alone.

She looks down then and sees a small package by the door. She glances at the table with teacups on it. One of them is empty.

Despite her failed attempt at catching the mysterious and annoying, but extremely nice man, Hange smiles.

"Have you enjoyed the tea at least?" she asks, hoping that he listens.

***

Hange spends the next couple of mornings, watching the sunset and anxiously waiting for the man to show up. She slaps her face and pinches the skin of her arm, stopping herself from falling asleep. It bears no result, however, because the man doesn't show up.

It is only when Hange finally gives up, returning inside her cabin that the man returns. She disappears for just a moment, going inside to make another cup of tea. When she comes back, a package with fresh fish, a journal and a few quills is already awaiting her. Hange sighs, annoyed at the man, despite his gifts. She needs another plan, it seems.

***

She has more than enough time to think about it. Hange’s life is dull and uneventful to a point of making her feel weird. She doesn’t know what life she led before she was found on the coastline near the port, with severe burns and wounds and before she stumbled into abandoned, old cabin, but this— this peace and quiet that defies her every living moment now, it’s— it’s not unwelcome. But it seems wrong. There is a need, a desperation set deep in her bones. It torments her at night, nudging her to do something, anything. It always keeps her on edge, pushing her in the unfamiliar direction.

That direction feels a dead-end.

***

Not every part of her life is lost. There are some memories that persistently linger in the depth of her mind. She still remembers her childhood - the bright, sunny days, filled with carelessness and wonder. The way wind blew through her hair, the way sunlight danced on her skin and kissed her cheeks, these memories don’t fade. On the contrary, there is more life in them than in Hange herself.

She knows the gentle touch of her mother and remembers the strict face of her father. She can close her eyes and see her puppy, running towards her every time she came home from the never-ending adventures, greeting her with loud, happy barking and wiggling tail.

Her school, a grand beautiful building with big windows and polished floors, still lives in her memory. And the image of the school’s library – the favorite place in the whole world for little Hange, where she spent countless afternoons – fills her with happiness and content even after all these years. She remembers the displeasure and annoyance she felt in the moments when she couldn’t reach the higher shelves. She jumped and stretched out her hand and balanced on the balls of her feet, huffed and scoffed, but nothing ever worked out, until she let go of her pride and went to fetch a chair. She still recalls the wonder and excitement every book evoked inside her. Her fingertips, although scarred and burned, didn’t forget the feeling of yellowed pages. The voice of her teacher, scolding her for reading without proper lighting, still echoes in her ears.

However, everything after that, past the playgrounds and school yards, is nothing more than a blur.

She remembers the cold, dark nights, spent by a fire, surrounded by merry laughter. She remembers the feeling of adrenaline, of excitement and agitation, yet can’t recall what exactly had caused these emotions. She remembers the parchment and a quill, remembers that she used to write, write, write. Not a single written word comes back to her, though. She remembers a bright, imposing figure right ahead, a reassuring, calming presence just behind her shoulder, and someone standing right next to her, their hands almost touching.

These people were important, Hange knows that. She wants to remember them so desperately.

But no matter how much she tries— she can’t.

***

Whatever life she used to have, it most certainly couldn’t have been easy. It was not a life of leisure and prosperity, because her body, despite its weak and injured state, still isn’t used to lazing around.

The spring only just began, and the earth is too cold yet for gardening. As long as the cool weather holds, Hange has nothing to occupy herself with. There are no seeds to plant, no weeds to pull out, no crops to look after. She has all the time in the world.

She can sleep as much as she wants, yet every morning she wakes up at the very break of dawn. Still exhausted and weary, she forces herself to sleep for a little bit more, but she can’t.

So she walks out on a porch, a cup of tea in her hands, and watches the sun slowly rise up over the sea. The sight is mesmerizing, Hange watches it every morning and yet she’s not bored of it in the slightest. She feels like she will never get bored of it, she drinks it more eagerly than the hot tea.

Watching the world growing from black to light, cold blue, before settling into palette of bright yellow, orange and pink never fails in making Hange sigh in wonder. The crush of waves across the shore, the sun beams illuminating the dark green water, the white foam swirling around evoke a warm, tender feeling inside her. It’s a confusing bundle of excitement, pride and happiness.

It makes her think – maybe, it was all worth it.

It makes her think – maybe, we can finally be free.

*** There is nothing much for her to do, so Hange concentrates on getting her memories back. It’s not an easy task, and it proves to be even harder, when Hange comes to conclusion that she has but a single clue, nothing more than a thin, uneven string that connects her past and present life.

That man.

So she thinks long and hard about her next course of action, writes one plan after another in her recently received journal. The process is oddly familiar, it brings her a sort of nostalgia, although Hange doesn't know the source of it. Still, it's comforting and she spends long mornings, days and nights, sitting at her porch under the light of sun, gas lamp and stars, thinking how to get closer to that kind, but irritatingly distant man.

In the end, she can't come up with a decent enough plan, and so Hange resorts to leaving a note to him. She wants to show her gratitude, and if she can't do it face-to-face, if he wishes to continue hiding from her, then so be it, she'll play by his rules.

It frustrates her, she can't deny it, but she needs to do something, and it’s the very least she can do after all the kindness this man has bestowed upon her.

***

The next time, when a package is delivered to her doorstep, it contains fresh apples and seeds. With a smile on her face, Hange brings it all inside and sets out to work.

She washes her hands, puts the apples on the counter and fires up the oven. Next she takes a bag of flour and pours it into a bowl. She adds water and sugar and mixes it all up. She opens the oven, places the bottom crust and spills the contents of the bowl there. Then Hange moves to the basket, delivered by a man. She grabs a few apples, washes them thoroughly and starts cutting them.

It takes her a while to finish, and so Hange starts humming under her breath, losing herself in the routine of gripping one side of apple with the fingers of her left hand and then slicing it with a knife she's holding in her right one.

The quick chop-chop-chop sets a tune to the melody she's humming and Hange smiles, enjoying the mundenity of it all.

At least, nothing will explode this time...

The thought is so bizarre, it appears completely out of blue. Hange freezes for a second, ruining the rhythm of her work. She looks up to the celling and repeats that thought, muttering it under her breath.

Explosion, explosion...

What could it possibly mean? Why does it fill her with anxiety? And what is that another feeling? Fear?

Tree branch hits the window in that exact moment, and Hange jumps. The sudden sound rings unusually loud in the silence of her little cabin.

It sounds almost like a gunshot.

This thought leaves Hange feeling even more shaken that she was before.

She exhales nervously, gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles go white. She feels dizzy out of sudden. Like there isn't enough air in the room.

Like she's swimming underwater and struggling to take a breath.

Why does that feeling seem familiar?

Hange shakes her head, wipes her forehead with the backside of her palm, hoping that it would help get rid of those ridiculous thoughts.

"I should spend more time outside," she mumbles, her voice still trembling. With unsteady hands she returns to the apples.

She quickly finishes chopping them and then puts it all in the oven.

Now all she has is to wait, and so Hange heads into the bedroom to get a paper and quill from there. After all, the pie is worth nothing, if she doesn’t write a note.

***

When the pie is ready, Hange puts it on the best plate she possesses. She covers it with the only napkin she has and then she takes it outside, setting it on a table at the porch. She brews a cup of tea and puts it next to the plate. Then she lays down a note.

Since you don't let me thank you any other way, it reads. Hange hopes it won’t go unanswered.

***

Next morning she wakes up and immediately dashes out of the house, stopping only to put her glasses on and get her warm robe. She forgets about her morning balm applying ritual, too excited to see the results of her little experiment.

Just as she hoped, the pie and tea are gone. Her note is gone too and another one lies instead.

Grinning from ear to ear, Hange eagerly snatches it in her arms, grips it tightly with her fingers and squints slightly, quickly reading it.

Work on your cooking skills, four-eyes. The pie was awful. Try adding less sugar next time. I think just a piece of this shitty pie could give someone cavities. Tea was good, though.

Hange rereads the note a few times, struggling to understand. She can't quite decide if she should be angry or amused. She settles on a mix of something in between.

Her experiment produced an unexpected results, it seems. It helped her realize that her assumption about that man was a bit wrong. He's kind, yes. Caring too. But he's not nice. Quite the contrary. He's a little piece of shit, Hange decides with a gleeful smile.

How curious, she thinks and lets out a happy snicker.

***

Hange's shirt rips at the seams a few days later. It's not her only shirt - the mysterious man has made sure of that - but it's her favorite one. So Hange searches the house, turning it upside down to find a needle and a thread.

Her hands tremble as she tries to fit the thread into the needle and Hange curses, as she misses the small aperture once again. She pushes the glasses up on her forehead and squints, struggling to get the thread inside.

After a few failed attempts and more than a few colorful words, Hange succeeds. She celebrates it with a wide grin and grabs the shirt, starting to stitch the torn parts together.

The stitch is even and neat, Hange wonders if she has been taught that. As far as she remembers, her mother tried numerous times to teach her how to do embroidery, but little Hange always refused, running away and hiding in the library. Evidently, she changed a lot since then.

I managed to stitch his face just as perfectly.

Hange blinks as that thought appears. She closes her eyes and instead of a shirt, she sees a bloody mess of ripped skin, muscles and tendons.

She blinks again and that vision is gone. Hange closes her eyes, tries to recreate the image, but she's drawing a blank this time. She is greeted with nothing but darkness.

She growls in frustration and throws the goddamn shirt away.

She was so close to remembering something, to getting back a part of her life. But, as before, it had ended in a failure.

The feeling is strangely familiar to her.

***

She spends the next week, writing little notes to the man. Sometimes he answers, granting her with more of his crude and sarcastic comments. Other times, when she attempts to ask a personal question, when she begs him to tell her his name or when she laments about wanting to get to know him, the messages go unanswered and her note stays exactly where she laid it, fluttering in the wind.

The frustration gets to her after a while and Hange starts to feel bored. The routine is pressing onto her and so she packs what little provision she has, grabs one of her warmer sweaters, puts on a patch to hide her missing eye and decides to go exploring.

There is a town near enough that it takes only a couple of hours to get there. Hange visited it once, before the winter came and the snow made the trip impossible. The town isn’t big – truthfully, it’s hard to even call it a town – the place stands in ruins with only a few houses rebuild and ready to let people in.

Now, as Hange enters the town after three long months, she sees that it’s changed. Not much, but enough to attract attention, enough to make Hange marvel at the additional buildings and appreciate the hard labor done by the townspeople.

She walks through the town slowly, gawking at everything and everyone. Despite the chilly weather, the people are working hard, rebuilding what was once lost.

When she came to this town for the first time, she asked about the cause of this ruin, thinking that it could be linked to her own wounds, and, consequently, to her old life.

The answers she received, though, didn’t satisfy her. The tales of giant people, destroying everything in their path sounded familiar, almost similar to the stories her mother used to tell her. It reminded her of the tales about titans Hange read in the school’s library. She was scared of them back then, and at the same time excited too. She always wanted to see one up close, and so she felt something close to regret when the townspeople informed her that there are no titans anymore.

“Those island devils got rid of them, thank gods,” one woman said to Hange back then. “Everyone now calls them heroes, but do you wish to know what I think? We should have destroyed them all along with their damned island.”

Hateful words left a bile taste in Hange’s mouth. They made her angry for a reason she couldn’t even understand. She left quickly after, her mind even a bigger mess than usual.

Now, as she strolls through the narrow streets, Hange thinks back to that conversation. Is it true that those islanders are to blame? Could it be that they’re the reason for the burns on her body? For the memories she lost? Maybe, Hange should hate them too?

It’s easy to hate someone when you don’t know them, she remembers words from one of her teachers at school. Hange finds it hard to agree with that statement. She thinks the contrary is true – it’s impossible and irrational to hate someone, when you don’t even know them.

She banishes these thoughts as she turns a corner and sees a man struggling to carry a large wooden pole. Hange isn’t that strong herself, the wounds taking its toll on her, but she rushes over to him, ready to help. She grips the pole with her hands and lifts it up, putting it on her shoulder to support it.

The man slightly turns his head, probably with intent of thanking her. Their eyes meet and he drops the pole almost instantly.

“You!” he gasps, his eyes wide. “It’s you!”

Hange puts the pole down and frowns. She wants to ask the man so many questions. What does he mean? Does he know her? Did they meet before? When? Who is he? Who is she?

Before she can at least open her mouth, the man grips her shoulders and stares at her face, his eyes running up and down frantically, as a wide smile pulls on his lips.

“It really is you,” he concludes happily. “Captain— he was right! He didn’t imagine it all, oh god, it’s a miracle!”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says slowly. “But who are you?”

“Oh.” The man lets her go immediately. He takes a step back and fixes his shirt. His eyes fill with sadness.

“So he was right about this as well,” he whispers more to himself than to Hange. “Forgive me, please,” he adds, and he does look apologetic, but Hange suspects it’s for entirely different reason. “I mistook you for a good friend.”

“Onyankopon!” someone calls from inside the house. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Sorry,” he repeats, flashing her a painfully forced smile. “I need to go.”

He leaves before Hange can reply and ask him to stay and explain.

“Onyankopon.” Hange mutters, pronouncing each syllable.

The name doesn’t seem familiar. But it spreads a wave of warmth through her chest.

***

She keeps muttering that name under her breath on her way home. It results in absolutely nothing, but Hange is nothing if not persistent. When she comes back home, she finds a few hyacinths planted in a pot that stands at the table at her porch.

Hange’s heart swells at the sight of it. The flowers are purple, and it’s her favorite color. She wonders if the man knows that little bit of trivia about her and if the choice of color was purposeful. She writes a quick note, asking him exactly that.

At the bottom of a page, she asks if the man knows a guy, named Onyankopon.

As always happens with that kind of questions, she doesn’t receive an answer.

***

Too soon, life returns to the world. The trees become greener, the sun shines brighter, and the water in the ocean gets warm enough for Hange to dip her toes in it.

The birds return back to the coastline too, the seagulls filling Hange’s quiet life with cheerful squeaking. When she isn't busy with crops and flowers in her little garden, Hange walks out on a beach and spends her days, watching the little things fly around. The sight is strangely calming, soothing her weary soul.

It’s during one of those perfect, peaceful days that it happens. There is not a cloud in the sky and a soft breeze moves through the air, entangling in her hair and moving through a thin cotton shirt she’s wearing. She curls her lips in a smile, squinting against the bright sun.

In that moment, Hange feels blissfully content.

It happens faster that she can react. She looks up, shifting her eyes from the sea to the flock of seagulls, flying high enough that Hange needs to raise her head.

There are eight of them – two bigger ones are on the front, leading the others, while the rest is flying behind, keeping close to each other.

Hange’s smile widens at the sight of the small family.

And it slips from her face, as she sees that one of birds, the one of two at the front, starts falling. Hange watches it as though in slow motion, staring at the sudden descent with wide shocked eyes.

The seagull’s body hits the ground with a soft sound that isn’t loud enough to be heard over the ocean’s hissing or the beating of Hange’s heart.

The other birds halt their movement but don’t dive in the sand. They hover above the body on the ground, silently mourning one of their kind, before continuing their flight.

Looking at it hurts.

Hange stares at it for another long moment, and then scrambles onto her feet, gathering the little bird into her trembling hands. She can feel the faint heartbeat beneath her fingers and Hange rushes back to her cabin, desperate to help the injured creature.

***

She spends the whole day, nursing little one back to health. After all of her efforts, it lives and breathes, but it’s too weak to fly or even move yet. Hange prepares a makeshift nest for a bird and leaves it there, watching closely.

She falls asleep right at the table, where she left the seagull, using her own elbow as a pillow.

It’s there, where, later that night, Hange has a nightmare.

She had dreams before, always blurry, filled with silhouettes and shadows, always disappearing from her mind with first rays of sunshine.

This one is different. This one is terrifying as it is vivid. It still isn't concrete enough, but it evokes something inside her— something that hurts.

The dream – it was full of desperation. It was full of confusing feelings, of ‘there is no one, but me, who can do this’ and ‘I don’t want to go, not right now, not from him’. The thing that feels the most real, the thing that makes her heart ache is a feeling of a hand on her chest. It’s warm, so warm that it burns. It gets through a few layers of clothing, marking her skin, before finally reaching her heart.

And before she can enjoy it, before she can savor this sweet torture, the hand is gone. The hand is gone, and she’s still burning, but this— this fire that spreads through her veins is different. It kisses her skin, but not gently, not like a lover. It kisses her with dispassionate hatred, with apathy that is set to destroy her. It kisses her, sucking all the air out of her lungs.

And then— then Hange is falling.

***

She wakes up before her body hits the ground. A loud, annoying noise stirs her sleep. She lifts her head and the sound doesn’t stop.

Hange groggily looks around, confused and disoriented. It takes her another few seconds to locate the source of the commotion.

It’s the window at the far side of her cabin. Someone is knocking on it. A sound between a gasp and laughter bubbles out of Hange’s throat as she takes a good look at the intruder.

It’s a seagull.

She slowly rises to her feet and approaches the window, opening it. The bird instantly flies inside, and Hange isn’t at all surprised to see that it stops in front of the nest she made for her winged patient.

From across the room, Hange watches the birds interact. The newly arrived seagull approaches its friend cautiously, slowly. When it reaches to wounded seagull, it opens his beak and puts a small fish down, so the other bird could reach it.

Hange almost coos at the sight.

The caring seagull doesn’t stay for long. It waits until the wounded one finishes the fish, and then it flies away, leaving Hange’s cabin through the still opened window.

“I’ll call you Sawney,” she whispers, as the bird flies past her. “And you will be Bean,” she grins, approaching the wounded bird.

As she checks the state of the bird, the strange dream continues to linger at the back of Hange’s mind.

Is that what had happened to her? Did she almost burn alive? Whose hand was on her chest? Who was the person she didn’t want to leave? Where are they now?

Why just thinking about it hurts so much?

She’s desperate to get her answers, and she knows a person, who most certainly has them.

In a last, almost definitely futile attempt to find the truth, Hange sits down and writes a letter. She writes about her dream, about lost memories and torn connections. She writes, asking, begging the man to let her know who she was. Who she is.

The next day, she receives her answer. It’s a disappointingly short one.

Forgive me. It’s better this way.

***

After that, Hange tries to forget about her forgotten life. She lost her memories. She’s still alive and able to make new ones.

The life goes on, and so does Hange.

The summer rolls around and suddenly she's constantly busy, tending to her crops and garden.

She continues to look after the injured Bean. The progress is slow, but Hange's patient. The bird's family is patient too, and they frequently fly inside Hange's cabin to bring more food or simply to visit. Suddenly, it’s not just Sawney and Bean. It’s a whole flock of seagulls.

When the mess inside gets too much even for Hange, she moves the nest outside and the rest of the flock starts living there, caring about the injured bird in little ways they can.

The birds can be loud, but Hange doesn't mind. They provide a company in her quiet life, they help keeping the loneliness at bay.

Birdwatching becomes one of her favorite past times. There is a certain appeal in studying the winged creatures. Hange notes different kinds of movements and habits each bird exhibits. She watches them hunt and eat, watches them interact with each other. Sometimes she even brings out a journal, cataloging everything she finds peculiar about her small test subjects.

It’s comforting in some way. It almost fills the void inside her chest.

***

One day, she receives a bag of sweets. On top of it lays a note that says:

Are your hobbies so boring that watching the birds is somehow fun for you?

Hange giggles, as she reads it, and quickly writes a reply.

It's much more fun than you think!

***

Something changes after that small exchange.

The man starts leaving her messages more frequently, and Hange, now that she let go of her attempts to get her memories back, answers each and one of them.

Her mysterious friend is actually funny, Hange realizes after his secrecy stops annoying her. He’s sarcastic and crude, and has quite a foul mouth.

Hange enjoys that aspect of him more that she probably should.

She enjoys their little conversation too, even though they’re not particularly lengthy. The man doesn’t visit her every day, but when he does, he always leaves a small note, asking how is she doing and what does she need him to bring. Hange answers him with more varied questions. She asks about his favorite color, his favorite season and if he sleeps on his back or on his side. She etches every answer into her mind, collecting bits of trivia about him like it’s the most valuable treasure.

Despite never seeing his face, Hange likes him. A lot.

His notes always bring a smile to her lips. Hange starts to miss him when he doesn’t show up for a few days. And after a while she realizes – she starts caring about this man. Not as an acquaintance from her past life, not as a means to get her memories back. He becomes something more to her.

He becomes a friend.

***

It all happens in almost unbelievably mundane way.

A vicious storm catches Hange unaware. The weather was sunny and warm one moment, and in the next – the wind picks up, throwing sand in her eyes. The rain starts a mere seconds after, drenching her clothes in a record time. The seagulls she was watching don’t waste a single moment and soar into the air, hurriedly leaving to seek a shelter.

Hange needs to find a hiding place too. She gets to her feet and starts walking. Her steps aren't swift or hasty, she slowly strolls back to the cabin. Despite the harsh rain and wet clothes, she doesn’t shiver.

The rain turns into a downpour, but Hange enjoys it nevertheless. The droplets that persistently hit her face feel warm. They soothe the burns that still ache. They elevate the pain that hides deep in her bones.

The lightning strikes, the sudden booming sound ringing over the empty beach. It startles Hange, but she doesn’t cry out – she laughs, louder than rain and thunder. She spins around, yelling in pure joy.

In that moment, Hange is happy. In that moment, she is free.

It’s with laughter still bubbling out of her throat that she sees him. His hand shielding his head from a downpour, he descends from the porch. His eyes are cast down, watching his step.

Hange freezes in her spot, watching him.

He lifts his face, their eyes meet, and— and everything makes sense now. Everything comes back, the memories return as though she never lost them.

“Levi,” the name stumbles from her lips unprompted, unplanned. “Levi.” She repeats it again, because she likes the sound of it. Without realizing it, she missed saying his name, she missed him. So she calls his name again. And again.

Levi watches her, clenching and unclenching his fist. He takes a deep breath, shakes his head and then asks. “So your memories returned?”

“They did,” Hange nods.

“When?”

She shrugs. “Just now.”

“And you…” he clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His eyes don’t leave her face. “You aren’t freaked out by this?”

She shrugs again. “I guess I’m still processing. Would you like to… help me with it?”

And before he can answer, Hange adds. “I know I’ve talked about living in the forest but… will the coastline be good enough for you?”

“You’re more than enough,” he says and takes a step closer. Hange takes a step too.

They meet in the middle.

#is this thing too weird? probably!#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

Text

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 9

masterlist

in this chapter, the reader takes up combat training with Eivor and goes on a walk with Valka. I hope you all have some wonderful days with your loved ones!

CW for alcohol consumption, choking/assault imagery, nudity

Inspo pic by @classicnovaproductions

Heather

The next few days were filled with training, tasks, and getting to know people. You got up early every morning and either joined Valka for a few hours of learning about healing and plants, sometimes at her hut, sometimes on walks through the forest, or you helped Sfáva in the kitchen, preparing food for the day or running errands for her. Around noon you ate with your old friends and in the afternoon you had taken up training with Eivor.

Eivor’s wound was healing well, but she was not yet allowed to train heavily so she was all the happier to have you to instruct and guide.

You had been working with a short sword, first wooden, then metal, for a few afternoons now and while it was still extremely hard to swing, you started seeing a smoothness in your movements. When you stepped into the training area with the straw dummies and wooden targets, the sun already hung low on the horizon and tiny snowflakes were fluttering from a singular cloud in the sky. The days were at their shortest now, Winter solstice was only two nights away.

“There you are!” You turned to see Eivor, dressed in thick leather and furs, with two axes in her hands. She looked lovely, her lashes and hair embezzled by ice crystals and her breath moving through the air like clouds in strong wind. She gave you the smaller axe and fastened the other one to her belt.

“I want to introduce you to another weapon today. I have a feeling you’ll be good with the axe.”

You weighed it in your hand. It was wooden with a dark metal blade; thin red leather strips were wrapped and fastened around the bottom for better grip.

“How do I wield it?” You tried a few slow strokes through the air. Eivor stepped behind you, closing her arms around you as she grabbed the axe and your hands with it, encasing your fingers in her soft, warm palms. Her mouth was right next to your ear and when she spoke, her breath tickled your skin.

“You hold it with a firm grip, but make sure your wrists stay loose. Don't stiffen your arms, keep them moving and natural. Engage your core while you swing so the weight of the weapon doesn’t pull your body with it.” She lifted your hands with the axe to your top right and made a slow, perfectly diagonal cut to your bottom left.

“Never swing straight down unless you’re absolutely positive you will hit something. Otherwise, you might hit yourself. You can swing upwards, too.” She guided your hands from left to right with a slightly upward motion. “Never straight, though.”

She let go of you and stepped around you.

“If you need more momentum, you can turn and swing the axe just at chest level, drag it up or down into your target.” She took your hands and twirled you around as if you were dancing, then she grabbed them tightly and executed a quick stroke through the air.

“It is also important that you practice to stop this motion if you miss. You need strong arms and again, an engaged core. Try it.”

She took a few steps back and you assumed your fighting stance and tried a few cuts through the air. Eivor was right, you needed strength to move the axe without flinging your whole body around and you also needed the strength to stop its flight. She was watching you with crossed arms, biting her lip as she closely observed your every move. After a while, she nodded.

“Try it on the straw figure. I’ll show you a combination.” She took the heavy axe from her belt and stood in front of the straw man. Suddenly she became a whirlwind, hacking at the figure three, four times and sending straw flying everywhere. Then she repeated the combination slowly, showing you a diagonal cut from the top left to bottom right, a horizontal blow from the right, a counter-clockwise turn into a full-force blow to the neck from the right, and at last a skull-splitting hit from the top down.

You could only imagine the terror and fright it had to cause in her enemies to see her on the battlefield. She was glorious, turning to you with a glow in her eyes.

“Now you.”

You stood in front of the figure and repeated her example slowly at first, trying to remember the right order and direction. She nodded encouragingly and seemed satisfied with your precision. You dared to work faster and started continuously repeating the combination, over and over again, harder and faster every time until your lungs and shoulders were on fire and sweat was running down your temples. Eivor was cheering for you with her booming voice, yelling at you to go another round and to hit harder, to keep your core tight and your wrists loose.

When you turned to her, out of breath and happy with your new weapon, she looked incredibly proud, smiling at you and stepping forward to grab your shoulders.

“I knew this was the right weapon for you. We shall continue training with others, but I think it wise to focus on the axe from now on. You will be a force to be reckoned with.”

You continued training until the sun was long gone, fighting the straw figures in the light of several torches, learning new moves and more difficult combinations from your drengr, and giving it your all until you had absolutely no strength left in a single fiber of your body. Eivor had made you run laps and fight every figure in the course, climb obstacles, and defend yourself from a figure behind you. In the end, all you could do was lay down on a snowed up ball of straw and try to regain control of your breath.

Even though Eivor’s training was rigorous and she always managed to completely drain you, you felt the happiest after working with her every day, proud of your accomplishments and hard work and delighted at spending this much time with the warrior. She was also in high spirits every time, amazed at your quick learning progress and your willingness to push yourself until the very end.

She let herself fall down on the straw next to you. It had stopped snowing and the last small cloud was slowly making way for a clear sky filled with thousands of stars.

“You did well today.” Eivor’s voice was smooth as silk, and she sounded very content.

“You’re a great teacher. It’s my pleasure,” you replied.”I never thought I’d be one for fighting.”

You thought back to the kitchen on the day you had first met Eivor. William had hit you so hard you had been thrown back into the shelves and almost died later when the wound had festered. What would happen if he tried this now? Would you be able to defend yourself, even without a weapon?

A meow tore you from your thoughts. Birna had come to pick you up for supper. Eivor greeted the cat with great enthusiasm and picked her up, cradling her in her arms.

“Are you hungry, my little princess? We shall find you something to eat.”

The cat answered with a satisfied grunt. You made your way to the longhouse together, all of your stomachs growling with hunger after the long day. Eivor gave you Birna and joined Sigurd at his table while you visited Sfáva at the hearth. She was delighted to see Birna and gave her some leftover ham right away.

“You hungry?” She answered your surprised expression with her almost toothless smile. “I learn English now. Eda.”

The old woman had only spoken Norwegian so far, making it hard for you to communicate. Apparently, Eda had started spending time with her and teaching her a few words of your language. Even though Sfáva spoke with a thick accent, it was wonderful to suddenly understand her. Following an impulse, you stretched out your arms in joy and she immediately hugged you tight, her smell of herbs and wool filling your nose. What a wonderful woman.

“Well, may I have some supper?” you asked, stepping back and smiling at her. She grabbed a bowl right away, filling it with hot stew and sausages.

“You always hungry now. You fight.” She gave you two additional slices of dark rye bread and you had to laugh. She was right. Ever since you had taken up training with Eivor, you ate twice as much as before. A voice next to you joined the conversation.

“Well, the best fighters deserve the best food.” Norvid was standing next to you, grinning widely. “I saw you training the last couple of days. You are making great progress.”

You lowered your head as a gesture of gratitude and thanked him for his kind words. It really did mean a lot to be noticed by the other warriors.

“Did I hear that right? You chose the axe as your primary weapon?”

You were surprised he knew.

“Word travels fast here,” you answered him, “but yes, I think the axe calls to me more than other weapons. We’ll see how much I call to the axe in the days to come.”

As you excused yourself and wished him a nice evening, you felt someone’s eyes on you and as you looked up, you could see Eivor watching your interaction with a sour expression on her face. When she caught your gaze, she turned to Sigurd and continued talking to him.

You made your way to Lewin, Aelfric, and Hal and joined them for your meal. They had also heard about your endeavors on the training grounds and were happy for you. They all knew how much you had had to take back in Williamsburg and how good it felt to become stronger and more confident now.

“Has anyone seen Eda?” Hal asked casually while he wiped his bowl with a last piece of bread.

No one had met her since she had left her cell and you were all desperate to know where she was and how she was doing. Maybe you could ask Randvi later. But you had been right in the assumption that she apparently just wanted some time to settle in and recover.

You left the longhouse early instead of staying to drink and talk. You were sweaty and dirty and in desperate need of a bath. Valka had offered you to use hers whenever you wanted, you just needed to fill it yourself. You knew she was still in the longhouse and you were glad to have some time to yourself, quickly grabbing a fresh tunic and a large cloth from yours and Eivor’s hut.

Valka’s cottage was only dimly lit by a few candles, but you did not light any more. You poured two buckets of water from outside into the kettle over the fire, then you went out a few more times and brought in as much snow as you could carry in your woolen shawl, letting it melt into the hot water. When it was warm enough, you filled it into the wooden bathtub and added some mint, sage, and lemon balm into it to help with your sore muscles.

You left all your clothes on a pile next to Valka’s bed and stepped into the steaming water. Slowly sinking down into the bath, you took deep breaths to adjust to the heat and inhale the wonderful scents rising from the water. The candles were flickering and painting landscapes and figures on the wooden walls, the steam was dancing through the air and your muscles were finally starting to relax.

After a while, you let yourself sink underwater, holding your breath as the water finally encased your head and your soft hair caressed your neck and shoulders. As you emerged, you began to rub off the dirt and sweat from your face and neck. A quiet noise at the entrance caught your attention.

Eivor was standing in the door, frozen and bright red, her hand still on the handle. You could see her heart drop when your eyes met.

“Forgive me Y/N, I didn’t mean to -” She rubbed over her eyes and stared at the floor. “Valka said I could take a bath in here, I didn’t know you…”

Of course. You were absolutely sure Valka had known. The little witch. You had to stifle a laugh.

“It’s alright, Eivor. I’m almost done. This bath is terribly dirty though, you should probably warm up some fresh water for yourself.”

The blushing warrior just nodded and went out again to get water and snow. You noticed you had forgotten the soap on the sideboard. Should you get up and risk standing completely wet and naked in front of Eivor when she came back? It was not like she had not seen you naked before; she had washed and dressed you when you had been sick and feverish. But things were different now. Even though you still had not kissed since that unlucky drunk embrace, the tension between you often thickened the air and stopped your breath.

You still did not feel completely ready to give yourself to Eivor, even though at times you wanted to. Randvi had been nice and respectful toward you since you had spoken to Eda and she had not moved in on Eivor anymore, but Eivor had also been mostly sober ever since.

It had been an idea of yours to wait until the winter solstice when everyone would celebrate and drink to see how Eivor behaved and to decide then if you wanted to let her in. Even though the wait was torture sometimes, it would be worth it in the end and it would show her how serious you were about your conditions for this relationship to work.

The door opened and Eivor came in, filling the cauldron with water and not daring to look in your direction.

“Eivor, could you please hand me the pine soap over there? I need to tame this nest on my head.” The last few days had really taken a toll on your hair, the braids from the ceremony now ruffled and loose while dust, dirt, and sweat stuck to your hair.

The blonde seemed to hesitate for a moment, then she took the dark piece of soap and slowly came over to you. When you saw how nervous she was, you suddenly felt a great calm and confidence come over you. Instead of covering or crouching in the water, you stayed splayed out and relaxed, visible for her under the surface. Red patches formed on Eivor’s neck as she handed you the soap, intent on only looking into your eyes.

“Thank you.” You began lathering it in your hair and on your neck and chest. Eivor had moved to the fireplace, but she suddenly straightened up and half-turned.

“I could… I can help you with your hair. If you want. I know how knotted it can get from training.”

She took the wide-toothed comb Valka had used to detangle your hair the last time and took a step toward you. You smiled at her.

“That would be nice. I’m still not used to maintaining it while wearing it down.”

Eivor knelt down on the floor right behind your head and started running her fingers through your wet hair. Every time her fingertips touched your scalp, it felt like tiny flashes of lightning struck your skull. The warrior began to hum as she slowly combed out every strand of hair, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Finally, she grabbed a small pot, took some of the warm, clean water from the kettle, and poured it over your head to wash out any remains of the soap.

As you began to get up, she held out a hand for you and helped you stand and step out of the tub. Like before, her eyes were fixed to yours as she handed you the large cloth to dry yourself off. You wrapped yourself in it, then you stepped to Valka’s great wooden table and took some of her Cedar oil, massaging it into your sore shoulders and arms. Meanwhile, Eivor dragged the heavy wooden tub to the door and emptied it into the bushes next to the hut before putting it back in its place and starting to fill it anew.

You slipped the tunic over your head and let the sheet fall to the floor before wrapping all your dirty clothes in it. You decided to wash all your things right in the morning, Eivor’s clothes included. As you turned around to her, you were now the one caught off guard. She had already undressed and was stepping into the tub with her back to you.

There were tattoos down her spine and on her shoulder blades, beautiful artwork in dark blue and black. She had loosened her braids and her long, wavy hair was falling down her back and over her shoulders. When she grabbed the sides of the tub and lowered herself into the hot bath, the muscles at her arms and back danced under her skin. My drengr.

“I’ll see you at our hut?” you asked shyly. Eivor gave you a look that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yes, my darling. I will join you there.”

You had already fallen asleep from exhaustion when Eivor came back to your hut. She found you curled up with Birna. The quiet closing of the door woke you up and you kept your eyes closed, listening intently as Eivor threw her clothes on your pile in the corner, took off her shoes and slipped into bed with you.

She smelled fresh, like soap and healing calendula and sage. Valka must have come back and given her infused oils, probably for her healing wound. Eivor scooted close to your back and you lifted your head slightly so she could slide her arm underneath your neck before hugging you tightly to her chest.

“You smell nice,” you mumbled and pushed your hips back against her almost unnoticeably. You could tell she noticed very well though, her breath stopping for a moment before she replied.

“You look beautiful when you sleep.” She pressed a light kiss to the soft patch of skin behind your ear and hugged you tight. Birna was purring quietly. Her family was all here.

After training your axe fighting for the entire next day, ignoring your sore muscles and pushing yourself even harder, you were picked up by Valka at the training grounds for a sunset walk. She had brought bread and dried fruit, as well as two big jugs of steaming hot mead.

You thanked Eivor for another productive day and for her endless patience and confidence in you, then you dried off your face with a small cloth and slipped into your fur coat, gratefully taking a sip of mead.

As you made your way on a path along the shoreline, Birna joined you for your walk. Even though she still did not like the snow, she had grown so fond of you that she rarely let you out of her sight anymore. Valka showed you where to still look for plants and how to dig for roots while you told her about the things you had learned today. She was happy with your progress, content that you were fulfilling her prophecy so closely.

On a small meadow where thick fir trees spared some of the ground from the snow, you actually found small white flowers. Valka explained that it was winter honeysuckle, a beautiful little plant that was most beloved for its fragrance. She rubbed a few petals between her fingers and held them up to your nose. It smelled delightful. She would show you how to distill the essence of honeysuckle tomorrow.

A while later, while the sun was already setting and drenching the world in beautiful orange-golden light, you found little red buds sticking out of the snow. It was heather, a flower usually associated with good fortune. You collected it all in a jute sack and Valka told you that the tiny buds could be used to aid with digestion and bladder issues. It astounded you every day, the way nature gave you everything you needed to heal and to help, to eat and drink, a cure for every illness and aid in every situation. You stuck one of the small heather branches into your shirt so it rested between your breasts, right over your heart. The winter solstice tomorrow would bring you luck and happiness, you could feel it.

This year you would not celebrate Christmas as you had done your whole life, but instead, the solstice would herald Yuletide, twelve days of celebrations. There would be sacrifices and feasts, fights and dances, singing and storytelling. Valka’s eyes were gleaming when she told you of the traditions and her plans for this year’s feast. You could tell this was special to her and you had a feeling that it would be like nothing you had ever experienced.

As you started to make your way back, daylight now dwindling fast and leaving the world gray and dim, you could hear a wolf howling in the distance. You shuddered, terrified of the wild beasts that had sometimes ripped apart your Lord’s sheep and dogs. Valka sensed your fear and took your hand in hers.

“You must not be afraid of the wolves anymore, little dove. You belong to Eivor Wolfsmal and no wolf will ever harm you.”

Her words made you think. Up until now, you had thought the name stemmed from her family or maybe a sweet story from her home, but you had never really considered a strong meaning behind it. Now that you thought of it, that was stupid. Only people who went through extreme pain or overcame great obstacles were given those kinds of titles.

“Where did that name come from?” you asked Valka, “Wolf-kissed?”

The healer squeezed your hand. It was dark and the lights of the village only slowly became visible in the distance, but the moon was bright and lit your path in the white snow.

“You have to ask Eivor that, it is her story to tell. I can say however that it was not a mere kiss by the beast that gave her the title. Did you ever notice the scar on her neck?”

Your stomach twisted. You knew the scar she was speaking of. It was dreadful and large, covering the entire right side of her neck from her hairline to her throat. You had thought it a burn mark or something obtained in a fight. Had it really been the result of a wolf attack? The thought scared you even more. Valka held your hand tightly in hers.

“Ask her, she will tell you what happened. You need not be afraid, I promise.”

As you finally came close to the village again, Valka stopped and turned to you.

“I wanted to tell you how greatly I enjoy spending time with you. People come to me with questions all the time, but they just want to hear answers, they do not want to find the answers themselves or even learn how to ask the questions the right way. You truly listen to me and you have already learned so much. I hope I can teach you everything I know so that one day you may know more than me.”

You wanted to laugh, but she was completely serious. You drew her in for a hug and mumbled your gratitude into her furs.

“Thank you, Valka, for all you do. I am just as eager to learn and grow as you are to teach. You are a wonderful friend.”

“Y/N, is that you? Valka?” A voice in the dark called out to you. A big figure was stomping along the path toward you from the village. It was Eivor, visibly agitated. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You could see her breath in the moonlight as she came closer.

“Uh… We collected plants for Valka and for the Yule festival?” You were not sure what you had done wrong. Eivor came to a halt in front of you and immediately pulled you into her arms, sighing as she pressed you close for a moment, then she held you at arm’s length and shot you both angry looks.

“What were you thinking, alone out here in the dark without anyone to protect you or at least a torch? Have you gone mad? Thor's hammer, I was so worried! Valka, what is your explanation for this?”

Valka seemed not at all impressed with Eivor’s display of rage and worry.

“As Y/N said, we were collecting plants. The moon lit our way, we were close to the village and only walked along the shore. There was no need to worry. We are no longer in Norway, with bears and wolves all around.”

You quickly glanced at her but decided to keep the howl you had heard to yourself. Eivor grunted, then she grabbed you both by the arms and began to stride back to the village, pulling you along with her. You could have sworn you heard Valka giggle, but the drengr between you ignored her.

Back at the village Eivor told you, a little too sternly, to go to her hut and wait for her there. She had set up a basin with hot water for you to clean yourself and the clothes you had washed in the morning and hung in front of the fireplace would be dry by now.

“I need to go to the longhouse and make more preparations for tomorrow. Valka, will you come with me?”

The seeress just nodded, gave you a secretive smile, and went ahead. Eivor stayed behind with you. She sighed and pulled you in for another hug, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. I thought you were lost and I would have to call up everyone to go look for you, the day before Yule.”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and looked up at her.

“I apologize,” you mumbled. “I should have told you where we were going and how long we would be gone. I won’t leave you in the dark anymore.”

“Thank you.” Eivor pressed another kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you later.” She left for the longhouse.

Birna rubbed herself against your ankles - you had completely forgotten about her! She had followed you this entire time. You had to laugh as you picked up the cat and held her close; you had not been without protection after all.

Back at your hut you dropped all of your clothes to the floor and splashed some of the warm water in the metal bowl into your cold face, relishing in the wonderful prickly sensation of your skin warming up. You cleaned your body with a small piece of soap and a cloth, then you slipped into a fresh tunic that was still warm from the fire.

As you waited for Eivor, you mended a few holes in your clothes and the quilt that kept you warm in the cold winter nights. Picking up your clothes and folding them so you could stack them in the corner, you noticed the little branch of heather among the heaps of fabric and fur. You spun it between your fingers a few times, contemplating over the things you had learned from Valka today.

The Yule festival would be wonderful and you were hoping to bond with the other clan members even more, maybe even to see Eda again. You noticed that you had forgotten to ask Randvi about her. Hopefully, the matter would resolve itself tomorrow. Even though you were on good terms with Randvi now, you were still not too keen on spending more time with her than was absolutely necessary.

You were half asleep when you heard Eivor at the door and sat up to greet her. She seemed to be in a great mood.

“How are the preparations going?” you asked, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“Oh, fantastic. We will slaughter an ox tomorrow and roast him over a great fire. We will eat like kings for days!” Eivor beamed at you and jumped into the bed, quickly sliding under the blanket and pressing her cold cheek to your shoulder, making you squeal and try to scramble away, but she only pulled you closer.

After playfully wrestling with her for a moment, you settled down and she tucked a strand of hair behind your hair. An idea suddenly came to your mind.

“Eivor, will you teach me how to fight without weapons?”

“What do you mean, my dove?” She gave you a confused look.

“I mean fighting like when you pulled Norvid off of me the other day. I want to learn to defend myself even if it’s not a life or death situation.”

“Oh, I see.” She sat up. “Right now?”

You had thought she could just put this into her training schedule for you, but you would not say no to a few new skills on the spot.

“Why not?” You got up and stood next to the bed. Eivor stood next to you. Birna seemed to know exactly what was going on and hid under the bed.

“Alright. First, what to do when someone hugs you without your approval. Show me what you would do.” She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around you. Your first instinct was to hug her back, but you remembered just in time that you were supposed to fight her off. You put your hands between you and tried to push against her ribcage, but she did not move an inch. Instead, she pressed you closer and you could not move your hands anymore.

“See, this is your first mistake,” Eivor chuckled. “You gave up your hands. Never let them capture your limbs and if they have, try to free them first. What you could do now is either headbutt me, stomp on my foot, or kick me in the groin if your legs are free to move that way.”

You slowly put your foot on hers and pressed down. She laughed at your careful movement and let go, then she hugged your ribcage again, leaving your arms free.

“Now you could punch me in the ribs or the head, but as you have no training in that regard, I could probably take the hits and lock you in again. It’s better to go straight for the head. Grab it with both hands if you can and twist it away from your body.” You gently placed your hands around her head and turned it away. “If I don’t want you to snap my neck, my body has to move along.” She turned with her head and loosened her hug. You mimicked stomping on her foot and she let go completely, stepping back and grinning at you.

“Perfect!” Eivor took your hand and whirled you around, suddenly grabbing you from behind and pinning your arms to your body.

“Now how about this?” Her breath was hot behind your ear and sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to wiggle free, scratched at her sides with your fingernails, and put all your strength into freeing your arms, but she held you in her iron grip. You resorted to stepping on her toes again, but she only loosened her grip slightly.

“You need to drop your weight first,” she instructed. “Bend your knees and let yourself fall down, then smash my foot with yours.” You followed her command and she gave way enough to take a step forward. “Now kick your foot back and catch my knee.” You did as she told you and she let go before immediately pulling you in again.

“You can also throw your head back and try to break my nose before taking that step forward and kicking my knee.” You tried it out carefully.

“If you need to run away, always go for their knees or groin so they drop and cannot follow,” she reminded you. “Let’s go again.”

With a playful growl, she jumped toward you and you squealed as she grabbed you from behind, then you let yourself fall down, stomped on her foot, and kicked her shin. She gasped in pain and let you go, rubbing the spot where you had hit her.

“Good girl,” she groaned. “Remind me never to surprise you from behind.”

You laughed and began to apologize, but she just grabbed you and threw you on the bed, pinning you beneath her. She sat up between your legs and pinned down your throat, keeping the weight of her hands on your collar bones instead of actually choking you. Her face was smooth and focused.

“Now, what you do if someone is holding you down like so is this: You grab my left shoulder with your left arm, so go across” - you placed your hand on her shoulder, your pinky finger touching her burning hot skin - “then you press my right hand to your chest with your right hand and hold it tight there.”

You grabbed her hand and pressed it to your collarbone, almost sure she could feel your heart beating faster in your chest.

“Now you raise your right leg all the way up under my left armpit and wrap it across my back.” She waited until you had hooked your leg around her body, now completely entangled with the large woman on top of you.

“Your final move is raising up your left leg, pushing me further to the left with your hand on my shoulder, and lifting the leg over my head.” You suddenly realized that you were only wearing a tunic and linen undergarments, your legs wide open underneath her and your tunic sliding up to your stomach as you lifted your hips to wrap your legs around her shoulder. Your cheeks began to burn hot with blood, but you followed her orders quietly.

“Now you have my shoulder in a tight lock, my head is pushed away from you and you have captured my right arm. If you pull it, it will seriously hurt me.” You immediately let go of her hand and she straightened up and smiled at you. You pulled your tunic down, blushing at the look she gave you.

“Again, faster this time.” She repositioned herself between your legs and pressed her hands to your throat.

You concentrated. Left hand to her left shoulder, right hand holding her right arm down, leg up, left leg over and pull. Eivor tapped your thigh and groaned again, rubbing her shoulder this time and moving her arm in circles a few times to loosen up the strained muscle. She looked quite impressed with you.

Jumping up from the bed, you got in your fighting stance.

“Let’s try again, full strength this time,” you said and you could see Eivor was stifling a grin. She would never risk hurting you.

She got up and paused for a moment, then she moved in so quickly you had no chance to react, hugging you from the side and clamping down your arms. You tried to drop your weight, but she just pushed her hips forward and picked you up, your legs flailing in the air uselessly. She threw you on the bed like a sack of flour, then she straddled you and pinned down your wrists above your head.

You were so stunned that you did not even attempt to wriggle free, staring up at the blonde above you. Her icy blue gaze burned into your face, her mouth was slightly open and her breath fast as her eyes wandered to your lips. Slowly, she lowered her head down toward yours, her gaze still fixed to your lips and her grip tight around your wrists.

For a moment, you breathed in each other’s air. You were one.

At the last second, you realized your advantage. In one swift motion, you rammed your hips upwards so she flew forward over your head and had to let go of your hands to catch herself. You wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her right arm underneath her and to your right so she fell on her shoulder and rolled to the side, leaving way for you to roll on top of her. Now you were straddling her, her arm still in your hands.

She was completely thunderstruck, her eyes wide as she realized what had happened. Then she started laughing, her deep baritone filling the room. You could feel her chest vibrating beneath you, a sensation that made blood not only rush to your cheeks but also further down.

Quickly, you got off of her and let yourself fall to the mattress next to her. She was still chuckling.

“You got me, my delicate dove. An important thing people often forget is the element of surprise. If you have it on your side, you can defeat the greatest, strongest warrior.”

Eivor turned to you and rested her head on her bicep, dreamy gaze wandering over your face again. She was completely infatuated with you.

“Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

“Of course, my darling.”

“Why do they call you Wolf-kissed?”

The warrior rolled on her back again and crossed her arms over her head, studying the wooden ceiling like she always did when she was struggling to put the chaos in her head into words. You followed her gaze and waited patiently.

“Sigurd is not my real brother. His father was the head of our clan and my parents were great drengrs, fighting at his side. One day he was giving a feast when we were attacked. I was only a child. It was Kjotve the Cruel. He slaughtered my parents and many of our clan. I only survived because Sigurd fled with me, but we got separated and I ended up injured on a frozen lake.” She laid her arm over her eyes as if trying to see the scene before her.

“When I came to my senses, a wolf was there with me. He was all alone and looked like he was starving. His pack must have cast him out. My axe was just out of reach and he attacked me, biting down into my neck to kill me. My cries alerted two ravens nearby” - she lifted her arm again and gave you a bittersweet smile - “and they distracted the wolf long enough so I could grab my axe and strike it. Sigurd found me soon after and his family adopted and raised me.”

Your heart felt like a little clump of cold, hard clay after listening to her frightful story. What could you say to her? She let out a quiet laugh.

“Don’t worry, you do not have to pity or console me. I have long made my peace with wolves and I have taken vengeance for my parents. Now all that is left of that terrible day is my scar and my voice.”

She hesitated for a moment, then she looked at you again.

“And a tremendous fear of losing those I love.”

#eivor #lady eivor #f!eivor #eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #f!eivor x reader #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #ac valhalla #assassinscreedvalhalla #assassins creed valhalla #lesbian fanfiction #eivor fanfiction #angst #fluff #comfort

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 5 years ago

Text

Soulmate Change

Soulmate marks can change if something happens that's big enough to make them do so.

Like say... telling your soulmate to jump off a roof.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0--0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Soulmates are the way of things. You have a mark that shows an important part of who your soulmate would be. These marks would glow to your soulmate upon first seeing them (and knowing what they were.)

Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku are soulmates. Izuku was born with a mushroom cloud in orange on his right shoulder while Katsuki had a green fist on his lower back.

The boys were best friends instantly. They did everything together.

“Gonna be hewoes!” They would cheer. Soulmate heroes were fairly common. They made the best teams.

Katsuki’s quirk came in, explosions on his palms and they waited to see what Izuku’s would be. Something about his hands they assumed.

But there was nothing.

Quirkless they diagnosed him as.

At first, it didn’t seem to affect them.

Then Katsuki began telling him to stop being stupid. He couldn’t be a hero. He was weak. He wasn’t going to be a good one.

The bullying came next. Being shoved around or the occasional burst on fire on his skin.

Izuku put up with it though. A part of him believed in soulmates fiercely. He wanted to believe his soulmate would be his friend again. That they would face the world together.

And then…

“Take a swan dive off the roof.” It echoed. It echoed in his mind and screamed in his soul throughout the day. He kept hearing it as he fought a villain, as All Might praised him. As he was handed a quirk. As he spotted the green vase on All Might’s lower arm and convinced him to come to see his house. As his mom dropped a pan and All Might gasped at seeing the hairbrush on his mom’s neck. Later the brush would make sense. In a way.

But his mind focused on those words.

Swan dive off the roof.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage.

Instead, he made a choice.

One thing about Marks was that they could change. It wasn’t that common. Maybe eight cases or so a year? Or more but eight would make the news. Izuku had only ever known that his teacher’s mark had changed.

But they could. When something happened that shattered the soulmates’ trust and belief. When something happened that made them unable to accept their soulmate anymore.

Some of the cases to make the news had the soulmate of a villain testifying against them, and it would always focus on the devastation of the villain as they saw the mark had changed.

Take a swan dive off the roof.

Izuku goes to sleep with a mushroom cloud and wakes up with a blue engine on his arm.

“Izuku…” breathes his mom upon seeing it. All Might- Toshinori- looks confused as he sits there, having spent the night on the couch. “What happened?”

“... he told me to take a swan dive off the roof and pray I had a Quirk in the next life.” Something smashes and Toshinori stiffens while his mother looks broken.

It’s simple to change it. The people look confused at him changing it until they figure out they met young.

“It’s why we say people should separate the kids if they’re soulmates,” the social worker who is documenting their case tells them. “Kids change as they grow up. Teens to but I’ve found teens tend to be a bit more stable in their souls at age sixteen and on.”

“So it’s more common then we know?” Asks Izuku.

“For kids? I’ve seen about twenty in my six years change because they were kids.” Explains the woman. “We need to know what happened though kid.”

“He told me to take a swan dive off the roof and hope I got a Quirk in my next life.” The woman freezes.

“... well fuck that kid then.” She looks angry and Izuku feels a bit of gratitude to this woman, for taking his side.

He doesn’t have to bare his mark he’s told. He’s underage.

So he doesn’t. He keeps long sleeves and works out. He cleans a beach and learns history from Toshinori who is over all the time and eventually moves in, hand in hand with his mom.

He doesn’t think about his mark.

-0-

Bakugou Katsuki has known his soulmate since they were children.

He wants him as far away from heroes as possible.

It’s easy to discourage him. Make himself scary. Be a bully. Torment him.

It hurts to do so. It kills him inside.

But he wants his soulmate safe.

(And a small part laughs in joy at the sight of him on his knees. Crying. His soulmate shouldn’t look down on him and he does and he hates it.)

His mom finds out though, after the slime attack.

“You told him to jump off a roof you brat?!?” She screams and he shouts back, explaining himself.

It doesn’t help it.

“You stay the fuck away from Izuku Katsuki.” She tells him and closes the door behind her. He glares but decides to listen.

The slime attack should have put Izuku off. It should have. His scolding should have done the rest.

He’ll be safe.

(“You didn’t tell him?”

“No. He deserves to find out the hard way.” It’s cruel. Mitsuki knows this.

But she does it anyway. Her son hurt his soulmate enough for the mark to change. Her son told him to kill himself.

She knows the school praised Katsuki, put him on a pedestal. He had the strongest quirk in school after all. They let things slide. And maybe she did to.

But words and actions have consequences. It was time he learned that.)

-0-

He gains One for All a week before the exam and it hurts when he breaks his arm but it’s enough for them to know he needs to figure out how to hold it back. He analyzes and analyzes, figuring out where to focus it and how.

He breaks his finger the day before the exam but it’s enough.

He’s a late bloomer they tell the doctor. Toshinori speaks up and says he has a strength quirk to, one that hurt him pretty bad because his body wasn’t ready and suggests that why his took so long.

They let them think what they want. Hisashi has left Inko for his soulmate before she’d known she was pregnant. He hadn’t sent her anything, and she didn’t want it anyway.

Toshinori claims to be All Might’s secretary in his own agency, and they can say they had met after Hisashi had walked out, that he’d been early. That Inko hadn’t been sure, that Toshinori hadn’t seen the brush on her neck and she hadn’t seen the vase.

Both put on brilliant blushes at the look and Izuku gags because that’s not an image he wants in his head, thanks.

But it’s enough that they ignore it when they put it down and soon he’s sitting in an auditorium, trying to ignore… trying to ignore the blonde next to him.

He’s quiet and doesn’t mutter, not wanting Katsuki’s attention. He wants to focus on himself and what’s going on first.

It’s later though. At the entrance to the fake city, he sees it. The boy who’d stood up during Present Mic’s speech.

He has engines in his legs.

He tries not to puke.

Instead, he focuses on doing well. He’s not the best. He holds back, knowing his quirk is to much for him.

At least he holds back until the zero pointer. He can’t let someone get hurt. He doesn’t care it’s a test and there might be safeguards.

It’s a robot. And there is always a possibility of malfunction.

He throws himself at the robot and smashes it. He breaks his arm, his legs. He doesn’t care.

He falls and is saved.

He’s barely aware of his sleeves missing, of the engine shown on his arm.

He’s barely aware of someone seeing it.

He’s barely aware of a choked gasp, and people whispering at the engine.

But he knows it happened.

-0-

Iida Tenya isn’t sure what to think. He stares at the boy on the ground with the engine on his arm and thinks, it explains the fist.

He wants to focus, his mind is going a million miles an hour as he thinks things through.

But his mind keeps going back to the engine. He boy is taken to the infirmary to sleep off his healing and Tenya decides to wait for him.

A green-haired woman and a skeleton thin man are there. The man is in an ill-fitting suit and the woman looks worried and stressed.

She sees him and her eyes frown, taking him in before she sees his legs.

A look is on her face then and the man stares at him too.

“Toshi-“

“Go see Izuku,” he says. “I’ll talk to him.” The woman nods and the man walks to Tenya who hesitates. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re an Iida aren’t you?”

“Ah! Yes sir!” Tenya says nervously. “You know my family?”

“I’m All Might’s secretary.” The man explains and oh that is… wow. “So, you’re Izuku’s soulmate.”

“Ah… yes. If that is the boy who broke his arm.” Tenya looks at this man, who must be his soulmate’s father, and is quietly utterly terrified.

“... it’s not private so I’ll tell you but Izuku’s mark Changed to the engine.” The man says and Tenya feels his heart stop.

What? His… that…

“I… how…”

“That is private but know that Izuku might not be ready to date anyone right now.” The man tells him.

“Ah! I do not wish to date currently sir! I simply wish to get to know my soulmate!” Tenya shakes his head and he puts all his thoughts away while the man studies him a bit more. He nods.

“I see. Tell you what-“ he hands him a business card. “That’s my number. Call me later and I’ll give your number to Izuku. He can decide. It might be easier not to be face to face for a while.”

Tenya agrees. He also needs to think about this.

His mark has never changed. His soulmate’s has.

It's a bit of a bitter thought.

-0-

Izuku texts his soulmate a week after the exams. When the whispers surround him and he just wants to die.

My school sucks. Is all he texts.

Perchance why? Is texted back.

Everyone thought I was Quirkless forever but it turns out my Quirk needed a certain amount of power to activate. But anyway Quirkless means bullies.

The answer back was horrified but it did compel them to speak more and more. Eventually, it became phone calls and long chats.

The real test was three months after the exam when they met up with their families.

Izuku might have fanboyed. A little.

… a lot.

But they took it in stride.

Tensei found it cute and teased his brother’s soulmate gently as the boy blushed and stuttered. He backed off when Tenya shot him a look, standing in front of his little soulmate a bit.

Time goes by after that and then one day, visiting and sitting on a pier of a beach, Izuku speaks.

“My old soulmate told me to take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk.” Tenya drops his orange juice and turns, eyes wide, to stare at Izuku. “It’s why the mark changed. It’s why it’s taken me so long…”

“I won’t leave you,” Tenya tells him. “I won’t do that, I swear. I would…”

“I know.” Izuku smiles at him. “I know. But… I’m not ready for anything but friends.”

“Me either,” Tenya admits. “I’d like more but I wish to wait as well.” He reaches out though, taking Izuku’s hand and the green-haired boy squeezes it. They smile at each other again.

It’s just right for them.

When they go to UA, they go together, getting in early. That’s when they see Katsuki. He’s there early too, sitting in a desk and smirking. Izuku freezes. Tenya’s fists clench. But they keep their distance.

(Katsuki wants to demand what Izuku is thinking being here. Why isn’t he talking to him? Why isn’t he going near him? Why? Why? Why?)

When it’s testing time… that’s when it happens. Izuku uses his Quirk and grins- he hadn’t hurt himself- and Katsuki snaps.

“What the fuck DEKU?!” He roars, charging at him, ignoring the flinch Izuku gives. He’s caught by their teacher but he doesn’t care. “You fucking liar! I’m your damn soulmate and you haven’t said shit-“

“No, you’re not,” Izuku speaks. And then he rolls up his sleeve and…

It’s gone.

The mushroom cloud.

It’s gone.

Katsuki freezes, eyes wide.

“Wha… no it couldn’t… it couldn’t change…” he breathes. Izuku looks at him and he looks terrified, but his eyes glance to someone behind them (that’s an engine, his soulmate found another that fast?) before he straightens his shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t it? How long have you tormented me? Bullied me? Said cruel shit to me? Why wouldn’t it change when you stopped being the Kaachan I knew as a child?” Izuku asks and his words feel like bullets.

“... you were Quirkless. I wanted to protect you, make myself scary so you wouldn’t…” Katsuki breathes (but it’s not the full truth and he knows it like Izuku knows it by the way his mouth slants).

“Actions and words have consequences,” Izuku tells him before he walks away to grab onto a different hand.

The teacher lets him go and Katsuki stands there. His body is shaking.

What…

What had he done?

#bnha #soulmate au #iideku #fanfic

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kattegat-kittycat · 5 years ago

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Fates Entwined, part VI: Safe In A Dream

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

A/N: As the fact checking goes, there actually was the possibility of mills and flour during the Viking age. I doubt that the mills in Ribe/Ripa actually date back that far, but well...

Don’t get me into the physical locations of all the Viking towns and stuff. It is incorrect in Vikings, so I don’t try to fix it now. Took me around seven hours from the German border to Ribe by bike, so I guess it would be about a day’s worth of travelling by horse. Anyhow.

There is a little teeny tiny bit of smut in the end, slightly dubcon, little fingering, little oral, nothing in the grand scheme of things, seeing that in Vikings there are people having sex and being raped all the time. I am not that comfortable with that, so, well, it is pretty vanilla.

As I will have to go back and rewatch a few episode to make sure I get the story woven into the series’ context at least a little sensibly, it might take a couple days (read: might be weeks) for me to update again. Just a heads up. I had this planned out a little differently first, but now I will probably have to wait for the series to end, so I know how to end this story.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

On the edge of life.

After all these days are gone. The endless haze will rise. I close my eyes. I'm safe from all harm. I'm safe in a dream.I want you to stay. I want you to be there for me. 'Cause I need your love. I need your touch. I long for your embrace.

Entwined - Safe In A Dream

The people of Ripa had gladly accepted me back in their town and as head of the earldom. Many of them had stories to tell of my uncle ruling them with a hand harder than necessary. I was happy to be back in my hometown at the bank of the river leading through the marshes to the sea. It was beautiful and so much calmer than the hustle and bustle in Kattegat. It was softer than the fjord-environment; there were endless marshes and fields to be farmed and the sunrises were the most beautiful I had ever seen, I was sure of that. I also loved hearing the watermills at Neder-, Mellem- and Overdammen in the inner city, producing all the flour we could wish for.

My family’s estate had been ransacked, but with the support of a few helpful hands, we were able to rebuild it pretty quickly. I knew I would have to return to Kattegat in time to be back when Ivar came home, but I also had to think of my earldom now. Ripa was the oldest town in the north, and I was proud to be its earl.

I talked with my old teacher, Ole, about setting up a council to decide over all important matters in my absence and I trusted Ole to be its head. I was more than happy when he agreed to my suggestion. He had been my teacher when I was younger, so I knew I could place the fate of my home and my people in his hands. After a couple of weeks in Ripa, when I was sure peace could and would be held up even if I went away, I gathered the shield maidens Lagertha had sent with me and we made our way back to Hedeby.

But there were no signs of Lagertha or most of the inhabitants here. The town was uncharacteristically quiet considering the amount of warriors and shield maidens that usually roamed the streets and went about their daily businesses. As we drew closer, we realised that except for a few men guarding the town and the traders, villagers and farmers, the city was empty. We rode up to the Ting house, where I expected to find Lagertha or at least someone who could tell us, what had happened. As I had thought, all we found was her secondary, a woman called Ragnheiđur. She came toward us as we neared the house and greeted us calmly.

She was an imposing woman, broad shoulders and long blond hair, even for a viking warrior she was really muscular. She was as strong as most men and you could see the silent confidence in her every move. She had grown up in Hedeby and had been taken under Lagertha’s wing when Lagertha came here. As I trusted Ole with Ripa, Lagertha trusted Ragnheiđur with Hedeby, because she knew that she wanted the best for her hometown. Astrid was the person Lagertha trusted most, but Ragnheiđur was a close second. I also had to admit that it was a compliment to Lagertha’s tactical thinking that she had left some of her best fighters in Hedeby. Firstly, they could keep foreign forces at bay and second of all, it led people to underestimate Lagertha’s real military power. I made a mental note and then frowned. It only left one question:

“Where is Lagertha?” I asked Ragnheiđur, as soon as I was within earshot.

“Well, hello to you, too. I hear you had a successful journey to your hometown, Earl of Ripa.” Even though she had just shoved my nose into my own impoliteness, she was easy to laugh and did just that.

“I am sorry, there was a lot on my mind. Hello and greetings to you, Ragnheiđur. How come you are here to greet me and not Lagertha? I wanted to thank her personally for her help.”

Ragnheiđur shook her head, but smiled. She was young, but pretty unimpressed by my impatience. She herself was not the most patient person, so she knew how to take my blunt question.

“Haven’t you heard? Lagertha is now the reigning Queen of Kattegat. She overthrew Queen Aslaug who renounced her claim on the throne.”

I was about to just turn my horse around, but Ragnheiđur stopped me.

“It is about to get dark and you probably haven’t eaten. Please come in and sit with me before you leave for Kattegat. You won’t be able to change anything anymore. What has been done, is done.”

I gave her a stern look. “What has she done?”

Ragnheiđur’s face turned sad. “You know what happened. You know why she took the opportunity while you were away. You might not have been Aslaug’s greatest fan, but Lagertha knew you would try to stop her, when she wanted to kill the Queen.” She grabbed my horse’s reigns and petted its nose. “Come in and eat. You won’t change the past by endangering yourself. Don’t forget, you are important now.” She grinned at me as she spoke those words. She was so open and easy to listen to, I didn’t think twice and followed her advice.

I got off my horse and she gave its reigns to her servant girl, who brought it into the direction of the stables. I followed her into the Ting house and the shield maidens who had followed me to Ripa entered just behind us. It would probably be the last quiet evening for a while. The last evening I would not have to talk and act politics, because Ragnheiđur already started asking me about my hometown and if it still looked like I remembered it. As dinner was served, she suddenly turned a little quieter.

“Would you mind taking the princes with you to Kattegat when you are leaving?” she then asked.

“The princes?” I asked, a little confused.

“Yes, trust me, it is a long story.” And with that she started to recount the happenings of the last weeks, clearly marking her distaste in some of the events, but who was she to question her earl? I could see how I would have to treat around Lagertha in the future, because I, too, had sworn her allegiance, just like Ragnheiđur had. When I asked her if it caused her any problems, she smiled again.

“Of course we are not always of the same opinion, but in the end, I find it easier to follow Lagertha than any other earl or queen. I know who she is, I know what she wants, she doesn’t play unnecessary games. She is a just ruler. I am also in a unique position to learn a lot from her, about leadership, about life, about making hard decisions.”

I considered her words and felt relief wash through me. Maybe I had made the right decision, even if it hurt.

Ragnheiđur came to wake me up the next morning. “Y/N, you want to wake up. Margarete just freed the princes and they are getting ready to leave.”

I sat up in an instant, looking straight into her dark brown eyes, as I opened mine. “Gods, Ragnheiđur, you scared me.”

She just chuckled and grinned. “Haha, sleepy head, get dressed and get yourself ready, I’ll tell the princes to wait.” She gave me another look, then she left the house.

When I got out into the broad daylight, Ubbe and Sigurd stood beside their horses, obviously frustrated by the delayed departure, but waiting for me. Or at least Ubbe was, Sigurd was flirting with Ragnheiđur as best he could. She smiled at his jokes, but I could see that she wasn’t impressed. When Ubbe saw me, his face turned darker than before.

“Oh, nice, the traitor makes her entry.”

Ragnheiđur suddenly turned to him and gave him a shove. “Hey, you don’t get to talk about her that way! She is worth more than the two of you.”

I smiled ruefully. “Thank you Ragnheiđur, but he is kind of right. I did betray my promise to his brother.”

Ubbe threw me a dark look. “You know as well as I do, that I am talking about you turning your back on my mother and leaving her defenseless.”

I snorted. “You mean like you did when you came here? Don’t try blaming that on me.”

We stared each other down for a moment, until Ragnheiđur had enough. “You wanted to leave, Ubbe, now you are free to go. Don’t make a scene, just go.”

I expressed my gratitude to Ragnheiđur and then got on my horse, waiting for the princes to do the same. When I heard the sound of their horses following me, I could feel myself relax a little. We rode in silence for the first part of the journey, until Ubbe rode up next to me. Sigurd was still behind us and he didn’t make any attempts at riding up either. He seemed to be content where he was. Ubbe on the other hand had something to say.

“So, you made a pact with Lagertha to gain her support in your attempt at overthrowing your uncle. How did that go for you?” he asked way too sweetly. I wanted to slap him.

“Fairly well for the second part. Turns out, she didn’t really want my help though, but rather to get me out of the way.”

Ubbe’s eyes fixated on me. “So, you were not a part in the battle for Kattegat?”

“No, I got injured claiming Ripa and I only came back yesterday. And that was what Lagertha had hoped for. She knew I had no trouble leaving Kattegat to her, but I would not have let her kill your mother.”

“Why would she…”

“We are pretty similar. She did not only want her home back. She wanted revenge on the woman who took it from her.”

Ubbe objected: “Our mother has not stolen anything…”

Sigurd gave a humorless laugh from behind us. “My dear brother, you of all should know that our mother is far from perfect, she is manipulative and used to getting what she wants, whatever she needs to do for it. I mean, she came back to Kattegat, pregnant with you, driving Lagertha out of her own home. She used the trouble of a girl without a family to get her crippled son married. I am more confused that Y/N would have defended her than by the fact that Lagertha would want to kill her.”

It was the first time, I actually appreciated something Sigurd had said and I looked at him with surprise. “I was indebted to her. And while it might seem unlikely, I did like her. Not very much, but more than a little.” He threw me a sceptical look.

“You do realise she only used you, do you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I cannot claim that I have been at a disadvantage because of that. I did not like the way she went about it, but I do think that she believed herself to be kind in helping me, even if it served her own ends.”

Sigurd snorted. “You really do like our brother. How very odd.”

We rode in silence again, until Ubbe said:

“So, I hear you’re an earl now.”

I snorted. “I guess I am. But don’t tell Ivar that I am more important than him.”

Ubbe burst into laughter. And Sigurd shook his head in amusement.

“So, I guess congratulations are in order?” Sigurd said from behind us.

I shrugged. “I only claimed my rightful title. And I got my revenge.”

“Like Lagertha?” Sigurd asked again.

“No. I killed all his heirs and loyal followers as well. You don’t want to keep around people who hold a grudge against you. Look where it brought my uncle. Or your mother.”

“That is cold blooded.” Ubbe remarked and I shrugged.

“It is war. There is no place for feelings in a war.”

Sigurd frowned. “Why do I still keep on being surprised by how similarly you and Ivar are thinking?”

“Thank you.” I smirked at Sigurd.

His frown went deeper. “That was not a compliment.”

Ubbe and Sigurd turned uncharacteristically quiet. Until Sigurd piped up:

“Should I feel guilty for not really feeling grief about the loss of my mother?”

Ubbe’s face turned dark. “We do not know that Lagertha killed her! Maybe she is still alive. All we have are speculations.”

I gave a nod. “I cannot see your mother any more. But then again, I could only see her future when I touched her.”

“So, what can you see, if you cannot see what is going on in Kattegat or with our mother?” Ubbe asked.

“Your brother. I can see your brother.” I answered solemnly.

“He is sitting in a dark room somewhere in England. Your father is still with him, but Ivar is sure that they are going to kill him. He is ready to die with your father. He cannot really understand their language, so he doesn’t know what is going on and Ragnar won’t tell him much. He is afraid of losing him, now that he spent some time with him.”

Sigurd rolled his eyes. “Precious little Ivar was probably a big help for father.”

“He was. Ragnar had to carry him through the woods, yes, but Ivar helped him kill the traitors in their midst who were ready to sell them out to the English.”

“How do we know you don’t just make that up?” Ubbe asked. It was not a vicious question, just a curious one.

“You don’t. I don’t even know how I know this. But I can tell you one thing, your brother will not come back the same person after this. I am a little afraid of what the news of your mother’s death might do to him. He will need his brothers after that.”

Sigurd’s voice turned bitter. “We don’t even know if Ivar comes back and if our mother is dead. But I am quite sure that our little momma’s boy could use some harsh reality to wake up and realise the world does not revolve around him.”

“That, Sigurd, is the problem.” My voice had turned sharp. “He is aware of that and that is why he will want to create a world that revolves around him.”

“Should you be speaking about your husband in that manner?” Ubbe asked more amused than actually affronted.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Ubbe, I will do anything to prevent my husband from going on an insane quest to prove his worth to the Gods. But to keep him safe, I have to face the harsh reality of who he is and who he could turn into.”

Ubbe’s piercing blue eyes met mine. “Is he your husband or your quest?”

I shrugged. “A little bit of both. But before all else, he is my life.”

“Well, good luck with that.” I heard Sigurd whisper.

When we arrived back in Kattegat, I found my fears proven right. Lagertha had crowned herself queen and killed Aslaug. But there was nothing, I could do or could have done. Even if I had been in Kattegat, there would have been no chance for me or the princes to help. The people of Kattegat remembered their former leader and Ragnar’s first wife and they supported her. Nobody had liked the etheral and distant Aslaug much, whereas most people still remembered how Lagertha had helped built the foundations for Kattegat to become what it was now. I looked at Ubbe and Sigurd and I could see in their faces that they understood as well. I wondered about Margarete, but Sigurd quickly explained to me that she would be coming back to Kattegat the next morning, at least that was what Ragnheiđur had told them.

I entered the longhouse behind the two princes and watched on as they witnessed what we already had suspected; there was no way to fight Lagertha. Ubbe tried to avenge the death of his mother in a fit of rage when he saw my visions had turned reality and became even angrier when he heard that they had been quick to burn her body as well.

I had held myself in the background, because I had no reason to fight Lagertha, but after the commotion had settled and Ubbe and Sigurd had left the longhouse, Lagertha stood up and came over to me. It was no leisurely stroll, it was a prowl, she was ready to pounce and rip my throat out, if I did anything wrong.

I took a knee and bowed before her. “My queen.” I addressed her and left no doubt where my loyalties lay.

“Y/N, for a moment there, I was confused as to what to think about you appearing with the sons of Ragnar.” She remarked, making sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was hers.

I stood and looked at her calmly. “We had the same road to travel, so Ragnheiđur suggested we travel together. Greetings from her and Hedeby, they extend you their congratulations.”

She gave an appreciating little nod. “Thank you. So, tell me, how did your voyage out west go?”

“The earldom of Ripa also extends its congratulations and is at your service should our help be needed.” I said and beamed at her proudly. She took my shoulder and drew me into a tight hug. Even though she touched my shoulder only lightly, I cringed a little in pain. The wound had healed up well, but it still gave me some pain and aches. Lagertha’s eyes followed her hand and noted the reaction.

“I am sorry my queen, I got injured in the battle.”

“That’s a small price to pay to restore the world as it should have been in the first place. We just followed our fates. So you were able to overcome the usurper and kill him?”

“Him and his whole kin. I do not believe in misguided clemency. He tried to erase my family from the world and so I erased his.”

“You probably don’t think it wise of me to keep the sons of Aslaug around?”

I smiled at her wearily. “I am in no position to question your judgement on the matter. And I am thankful as my husband is one of them.”

She gave a nod. “I know. So be assured that unless provoked, I could never kill any son of Ragnar. Also, I know them to act before they think and that makes them less of a threat. The only one not lacking their father’s vision is Ivar, but as long as you can convince him to refrain from going after me, you must fear no harm.”

“It will be hard work, but I will do my best.”

“Surely he will listen to you.” Lagertha said and left no doubt that he better do as she said.

“You haven’t really met my husband until now, have you?” I asked her, slightly amused.

She frowned. “Well, you better find a way to appease him, because I will not spare him if he makes an attempt on my life.” There was a definitive edge to her voice that told me how serious she was.

I bowed my head and gave a nod. “I am aware of that, my queen. I am, however, also aware of the fact that he can be very impulsive and please consider that he is the youngest of the sons and had a close bond with his late mother.”

Lagertha looked at me for a long time, then she gave a nod. “I will take that into consideration”, then she smiled, more to herself than at me, “Ragnar was impulsive as well, when he was young. But well, we don’t even know if they will come back. And then Ragnar will have to…”

“Ragnar will not be coming back to Kattegat.” I told her.

Her eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that?”

“I saw it. I am not as gifted a seer as Aslaug, but Ragnar will be handed to King Aelle. And you know that there is no love lost between those two.”

“And what makes you think your husband will survive if even Ragnar had to surrender?”

I smiled at that. “You really don’t know my husband.” There was a sense of pride that came with these words. Ivar was sly. He was cunning and he was stronger than people gave him credit for. But the less she knew, the better.

She gave me a pitiful smile, but I knew, I was right.

I found Margarete in the kitchen the next day, preparing food for the night. She seemed slightly scared, but mostly angry. There had been no love lost between her and Queen Aslaug, but at least Aslaug hadn’t played her for a fool and used her to her own ends. She resented Lagertha for playing her.

“Can you not free me from Lagertha? I do not wish to serve her, she tricked me into deceiving Ubbe and Sigurd.”

I shook my head with a sad smile. “I am afraid not. I have yet to prove my worth to Lagertha, also, I do not have the money or the means to buy you from her.”

Margarete made an impatient gesture. “What good was your becoming an Earl, when you don’t have any power?”

I lost my patience with the girl. “Margarete! You know how to get out of this! You were already on your way to convince Ubbe to marry you.”

Margarete looked at me with wide eyes. “How do you…?”

“I know these games. A lot of slaves have slept their way to freedom. I don’t judge you for it, people have to do what they can to be free.”

“Like marry Ivar the Boneless, gain military power and overthrow their uncle?”

It sounded almost as bad as sleeping your way to freedom. Well, to be honest, had Ivar not been Ivar, it would have been exactly the same. I still smiled at her.

“And this is why I like you. We are very similar in some regards.”

Margarete took a deep breath and looked at me levelheaded.

“But Ubbe has nothing to say in whatever Lagertha does. She might very well just kill him.”

I shook my head. “He is still a son of Ragnar and that means something to the people in Kattegat. She could never kill one of them, least of them Ubbe. He looks too much like his father. So go on, take your chance. You deserve more than this. But be careful, Margarete. I cannot save you, I hold no power in this town.”

Her head bobbed in understanding. As I was about to go, she grabbed my wrist.

“Thank you. For not judging me based on what I have to do. If you ever need my help…you know where to find me.”

I smiled at her. “Just promise me to be careful.”

I could feel the mood change in Ivar, when Ragnar was handed to Aelle. I mostly felt it through the flare of anger being lit in Ivar’s mind. I could feel the slow burn of hatred consume most of his thoughts and cloud his mind, as he set sail to Kattegat.

I wasn’t there when Ivar’s boat landed at the harbour and when he confronted and challenged Lagertha, I had been to Hedeby for the day and as I returned, I heard people talk and chatter. And then I felt his presence in the town. It was not only his own anger that seeped through the streets, but also the people’s apprehension as they all knew that Ivar coming home to the news of his mother being dead at the hands of Lagertha did not bode well. I heard from somebody that Ivar had been escorted out of the longhouse back to his old dwellings. So, I entered our home, unsure if this even was our home anymore. I took a deep breath and pulled aside the curtain dividing his space from the main room of the house. He was sitting on the bed and his head shot up, as soon as I entered the space. An unreadable grin spread across his face, splitting it in two, making it look like a horrible grimace.

“My wife. My beautiful moon… Tell me, how is your shoulder, love?”

I quickly touched my fingers to the scar on my left shoulder and knew from the calculating look in his eyes that he knew. I closed my eyes.

“How do you know?” I asked calmly.

He snorted and tilted his head. “It’s kind of a funny story…” And with that he took the helm of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing a scar that looked exactly like the one I sported and that had not been there before he had left for England. “I had a dream. I got hit by an arrow while conquering Ripa, a town that I had never seen before, but now know better than I care for. I woke up screaming in agony. So… if this is true, you probably went to Ripa.”

I gave a nod. Why did I feel my cheeks burst up in red hot shame, when I had nothing to be ashamed of? “Yes, I did.” I said in a little voice that didn’t even sound like me.

“Even though you promised me to stay in Kattegat.” And there was the accusational tone, I had been waiting for.

“Well, I am here now, am I not?” I countered and felt more like myself again.

His eyes glared at me like blue flames. “But you went to Ripa and endangered yourself.” He pressed at me through clenched teeth.

“I did what I needed to do. And now I am back here for you.”

“You could have been killed!” He screamed at me, which took me aback. I knew his low growling, his mocking, his sardonic undertones, his playful threats, but never had I heard him scream like this. He sounded more like a wounded animal than angry. That surprised me the most. Ivar wasn’t only angry, Ivar was afraid.

“But I wasn’t killed, that’s what matters.” I tried to soothe him.

“No, it is not! I cannot have you traipsing around getting yourself in danger!”

He had pushed me over the edge of my empathy. “And what is it to you?! You were in England trying to get yourself killed!”

“It matters because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone! I cannot lose you!”

“But I am supposed to lose you and be fine with it? I know you are planning to go back to England!”

That took him by surprise. “I…They killed my father! I have to go back to avenge his death!”

“Exactly!!!” I screamed at him. “As did I! I also had to avenge my father’s death! So what is the big difference?”

Ivar looked at me for a moment, before he growled. “You are mine!” As an afterthought he added: “Also, it seems like I get injured if you get hurt. So, you die, I die.”

I raised my eyebrows. “But that probably works the other way around as well!”

Ivar had become quieter and quieter. Now he looked at me, eyes wide with simple fear. “So…you don’t know what is happening to us?”

I calmed down instantly. Shook my head. Looked him in the eyes. “I don’t. Your mother was the only one who might have known.”

His face fell and he shook his head. “I cannot believe that my mother and father are both dead.”

I took a step toward him, still hesitant, still not sure how he would react. He looked up to me, his eyes glinting with moisture. When I was close enough, he took my wrist. His grip was painfully hard on my skin, as he tugged me toward him. His other hand took hold of my upper arm and he pulled me down onto the bed with him. His lips found mine before I could say or do anything, the kiss forceful and possessive. He pushed me down beneath him and shoved my dress and underskirt up to my hips, pushing it further up, until he had me pinned beneath him, dress up around my waist. I felt exposed until he kissed my stomach, his hands gliding beneath the folds of the fabric to my breasts. I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t find the words.

“Ivar…”

He growled as he bit into the flesh just beneath my right breast, then kissed it.

“You are mine, Y/N, you will always be mine.”

I sighed, my hand gripping his hair that had become longer and a little shaggy. I liked it and gave it a tug.

“And you are mine, but you cannot just do with me as you please!”

Ivar looked up at me, across my upper body, his eyes like those of a feral animal.

“Then tell me you don’t want this!” he growled.

For a moment, we stared at each other, Ivar motionless above my naked lower body.

I made a frustrated sound and wriggled out of my dress all the way just to unceremoniously drop it over the edge of the bed. Ivar looked up and down my exposed body, then his eyes caught on the scar on my shoulder. He touched its twin on his own body and compared the two with wonder. I was just as fascinated by the scar he should not have, so I sat up and asked him to turn around. It really went through. Just like my shoulder, his had been pierced through, he had the same identical scar on the back of his shoulder that I had. I swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.

“Ivar…”, he looked back with concern, “I am scared.”

At that, he took me into his arms, his skin feeling comforting on mine.

“I am as well. Do you understand now why I cannot have you getting yourself in danger? I don’t want us to die. It is bad enough that I have to fight the English and risk your life.” He placed a kiss on the spot where my neck met my shoulder and I sighed.

“Let us not argue about this any more. I have missed you, my husband.”

“Well, you kept yourself busy, that much is clear.” He chuckled. “If you hadn’t broken your promise, I would be immensely proud of you, my earl.”

I kissed his jaw. “Tell me about your vision, how was it?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“If I am being honest, it scared me. Seeing you, seeing you in danger, it was bad. Father threw an empty cup at me, because I did not stop screaming.” He smiled, almost fondly.

I kissed the side of his cheek, gently tracing his cheek with my fingers, then placed a kiss on his pulse point. I could feel the life humming through his veins, the life he shared with me, and suddenly, I felt possessive, too. I nudged him down onto the furs and almost jumped him, kissing his jaw, his throat, his collarbone. Ivar dragged me onto him and was only happy when I straddled his waist. He looked up at me and his hands reached for my breasts. He kneaded them, then sat up to put his mouth around one of my nipples that already stood at attention. He softly bit down, sucked, making me moan as a shiver ran down my spine. He had talked about women with his father and he was all too eager to try his hand at some of the things his father had mentioned.

As he sucked my nipple, his hand massaged my other breast, pinched the other nipple. I took in a sharp breath.

His brothers were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, only divided from us by a curtain. I had heard Ubbe and Margarete often enough to know what positions Ubbe favoured, but I did not want the same notoriety. As I thought about that, I missed Ivars second hand drifting down and slipping in between my legs. Only when he touched me in my most sensitive spot, I gasped. He rubbed a little, moved his fingers back and forth, always gauging my reaction. He smiled when I bucked my hips forward as he touched me, before he quickly turned us around, lying above me, hand still between my legs. He kissed my lips shortly, then kissed down my midline, until he was just below my belly button. He looked up to me, as if asking permission, and when I gave a slight nod, he slipped further down, parting my legs and suddenly sucking on my clit. I almost squealed at the sensation, but bit my lip instead, my hip pressing upwards. I could feel Ivar hum appreciatively against my skin and the vibration almost drove me wild. His slight attempt at a beard didn’t look like much, but it teased me even further, when his lips explored a little further and he found my entrance. His tongue darted in and out of me a few times, making me grab at his hair. He took that as the right direction and inserted one of his fingers into me, as his lips found their way back to my clit. He pressed his tongue up against it, then licked along all the while moving his finger in me. He added a second finger, which was enough for now. He went back to sucking and his fingers fucked me faster than before, my hips meeting his pace. As his tongue once again lapped at me, my hips stuttered and in spite of my former promise to myself, I loudly moaned his name and tugged on his hair as I came.

My eyes fell closed for a moment, but when he came to rest beside me, I looked into his eyes. He beamed with pride and licked his lips. Then he kissed me with the fervour, I had missed. I could taste myself on his tongue and sighed into the kiss, making him chuckle.

“Did that feel good?” he asked mischievously.

I beamed at him and let him have the glory. “No, not good. Amazing.”

I had never seen the joy that spread across his face before, not on Ivar, and it made my heart jump a little.

“Gods, Ivar, I do love you.”

He chuckled and nuzzled his nose in the crook of my neck. But I was more interested in something else. I slowly let my hands wander across his body, felt his abdominal muscles contract beneath my fingers, until I reached the helm of his pants. I heard his breath catch, but he did not stop me, as my hand dipped into the front of his pants and touched his almost totally hardened member. My hands closed around his shaft and started to move gently back and forth and I could hear the change in Ivar’s breathing. He did feel something. His hips started to move in time with my slow strokes, became a little more demanding after a while, as I felt his prick harden a little more. He moved with me and after a while I let my finger swipe over the tip and then pump him a little faster. Ivar’s breathing became eratic until the movement of his hips stopped and he gave it one violent snap of his hips and shuddered. There was only a few driplets, but Ivar still seemed content and happy. It wasn’t much in the way of a climax, but it was more than nothing. I looked at his face a little worried.

“Did I make you feel something?” I asked him, shyly.

He smiled back at me. “You always make me feel something.” He gave me a kiss.

“No, I mean… did that… did that feel good for you?”

He sighed, then hummed contently. “Yes, yes, that felt very good. One could even say…amazing.” A cheeky grin spread across his face, when I looked at him a little outraged, and his eyes only sparkled with humour, before he kissed me again.

“Y/N, I will never have sex like other people do, but this? This was enough. For once, pain has not been the predominant thing I have felt and that means a lot.”

I smiled a little smile. “Yes?”

“Yes.” He chuckled in my ear. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. It was a pity that I would not hear it for years to come.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfic #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings #history vikings #vikings fanfiction #ubbe #sigurd #lagertha #fates entwined

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himbowelsh · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please do Robert Leckie for the Valentine’s asks? Thank you :)

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Bob is particular about physical affection in general (see EMBRACE below), so his ways of showing affection tend to be more subtle. He’s not above bribing people bringing people gifts, if he feels like he needs to secure their affection; he’s also a very intent listener with a genuine interest in people, and his compassion works to his advantage when loved ones are opening up to him. People feel seen when Bob listens to them --- and he doesn’t forget what they say.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Bitch doesn’t know the first damn thing about flowers. He’ll rock up somewhere with a lone flower obviously picked from the bush in the front yard and think he’s smooth. Banned from three flower shops in the state of New Jersey, but that’s a different story.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

“I’m not a fan of chocolate,” he says, deadpan, while literally digging through a box of Russel Stover. He loves the ones with nuts.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Hey, he’ll go classic, take someone out to dinner --- but he’s going to make it good. Bob will find a way to scatter surprises throughout the night, either by ordering a special dessert when his date’s in the bathroom, or taking the long way around on the way home so they can catch some fireworks in the local park. Bob wants to give his dates something to remember by the end of the night --- something more than the very memorable parting kiss on the doorstep.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

He pretends to be casual with physical affection, but it’s really quite significant for him. Bob is careful with how he holds himself, very conscious of his own body language; he likes to portray himself a certain way, and that Bob Leckie hands out back slaps like it’s nothing. Privately, though, he doesn’t like to be touched much. Bob will invite physical affection only when he really needs it, and then he tends to be a clingy hugger. If he’s actively seeking out physical affection from someone else, it’s his way of admitting he feels vulnerable.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Could teach a master class in flirting --- not that the lessons would be good, or the advice useful, but he absolutely believes he’s that smooth. The worst part is, he kind of is? Maybe it’s the cute smile, maybe it’s the wit, but Bob has a way of charming women. He’s talented with his mouth in more ways than one. His method of flirting is wit, good looks, and a bit of irresistible charm. (He’s such a lad, he picks a girl flowers from her own garden, don’t date him, dON’T---)

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Hmm. He’s... a very determined gift-giver, who utilizes the resources at hand. He’s not going to import the perfect gift from another country, but he’ll pay attention to what people want in the moment, and try his best to obtain it for them. Gift giving is a double-edged sword for Bob. He’s naturally generous, and really enjoys giving gifts... but part of that satisfaction comes from the gratitude of people around him, and the feeling that he’s a bit more important to them. That, by making them happy in this moment, he stands out in their minds a bit more. (We stan a boy who wasn’t hugged enough as a child!)

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He rushes into it quicker than he should. When Bob falls in love, he goes beyond the person themselves --- he falls in love with the fantasy. The life they could have, the life he imagines he wants with them... and this fantasy isn’t always grounded in reality, but he wants it so badly in the moment. He takes love as deeply as he takes rejection, and his heart is as easily won as broken.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He’s so casual about it. While walking out the door, a quick kiss on the cheek, “Love you.” While slipping into bed and turning off the light, “’Night, love you.” While looking at a meal his partner’s cooked, “Wow, I love you.” He even teases with it sometimes... but this affected casualness is all a way of hiding how much he means it, how much he loves just getting to love someone, and being loved back. By saying it so often, that makes it concrete --- maybe that’ll make it last forever. There’s no denying how much delight he gets in saying it, though.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Very, very jealous, in ways that can sometimes be ugly. He... does not like to feel like his partner’s attention is slipping. This will result in one of his patented Bob Leckie Attention Grabs. He might actually pick a fight, just to get his partner’s full attention on him once more; he’ll brood and pout and be cross for several days, until his partner finally forces him to sit down and talk it out. He just... worries, is all. Not in a way where he’ll invade his partner’s privacy, but he will make it a Big Goddamn Deal when it doesn’t have to be.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

He gets into it very quickly, and is determined to please. Bob approaches kissing like a dance; if two bodies don’t find the right rhythm, they can’t really hit it off, can they? His hands move all over, getting the feel of his partner’s body, but he otherwise stays very still. His mouth is active, impetuous, nipping their lips and teasing them with his tongue as though eager to claim them. If he can win a noise from them --- either a sigh or a gasp --- it feels like a victory.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

He likes himself a whole lot, but also hates himself, so it’s weird. He loves... gah, it’s a hard question. Shouldn’t be, but it is. Once Bob decides to let himself care for someone, he cares about them very deeply. He loves his friends, the group he’s been through so much with --- they’re probably the closest people to him, just because they accept him, bugs and all.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He comes alive at night; Bob is, unfortunately, a night owl. And also a morning person. If he’s awake, he tends to be annoyingly awake, and is up for getting weird at any hour of the day.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

He’s got a lot of enthusiasm. Technique? Finesse? Not so much, but Bob puts in the effort, okay? He’s very sensual, focused on enjoying himself in the moment --- the bedroom is one of the few places Bob can get out of his own head --- but it doesn’t quite work when you get turned on that quickly, Bob. His problem is that he’s lowkey always horny (which explains... 58% of his character) so when he finally gets to rock ‘n roll, sometimes he rolls before he can get rocking. Not his fault, not every time, it just... happens. He makes up for it by being a generous lover who’s very good with his mouth, and can move his tongue in ways that would get a nun trembling. Bob’s patient. When he’s not focused on his own pleasure, he can drag his partner’s out for hours, drawing them up to the brink multiple times before pulling them back. He enjoys hearing them moan, feeling them squirm against him, just knowing that he’s the cause of all of it... and, when they finally are allowed to go over the edge, he loves nothing more than to watch.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

Annoyingly so. He’s very good at stringing words together, in a way that dances on just the right side of pretentious; when he wants to reach someone’s soul, he can hit a perfect heartfelt note, winning them over. He’s tried his hand at poetry before, but love poetry is well and truly beyond his talent, so please don’t let him try. It’s laughably bad.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Someone who can put up with his bullshit. No, okay, he’d lowkey need someone with the patience of a saint. Someone... grounded, for all the times he isn’t; someone with a clear head, who can look at a situation from an objective angle and give their take on it. He’d like someone capable of expressing themselves eloquently, maybe someone who doesn’t hold back their emotions. Someone sympathetic. Someone who listens, but who can tell a story that keeps people engaged. If they can talk him out of his brooding moods, they’re his greatest ally. If they’ll read his writing and offer opinions (even critiques), he’ll be head over heels.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

No, don’t worry. He’s going to ask. Bob might actually ask too soon, before the relationship is really there yet. He doesn’t take being told to slow his roll well, but when his partner points out that they’ve only been dating for six months and there are things they still don’t know about each other, he’s forced to see reason. At least, something close to reason; he keeps the ring in his desk drawer, waiting for “a rainy day” that will inevitably arrive sooner or later.

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

A self-proclaimed cynic, disgusted by his own romantic longings. Someone please exorcise him.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

Leckie was a flirt from the day he realized he could fast-talk people; he always had charm, even as a little kid, and it won over plenty of people. Little Bob craved attention, and sought it out from his teachers, who encouraged him; and his classmates, who either loved or hated him. He had about... three elementary school girlfriends. None of them lasted long.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

Please. He may fantasize about a picture-perfect romance, but he’s not naive, okay? Pssh.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

Well... Stella sure didn’t feel good. It wasn’t as though Bob was head-over-heels in love with her; he just thought he was, and had already moved to the stage of fantasizing about their children. He wanted that life, with a family who loved him, people who cared for him and wanted him around... Mama Karamanlis was nothing like his own mother, and actually made him feel wanted. Maybe he was in love with that, more than Stella, but losing her felt like losing a rib. And knowing it was because she didn’t think he’d make it back? Let’s just say there were a few moments after that where Bob didn’t want to make it back.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

He has an actual hatred for it. Genuine vitriol. It’s weird, because Valentine’s Day has had... legit no impact on his life so far. It’s done nothing to him. He just insists it’s a commercialized garbage day, and refuses to go out on principle.

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

He... I mean, yeah. It’s definitely something he wants. He’s got it all planned out --- nice house, successful career, doting spouse, two or three kids... of course, life’s never that simple, he knows that, but it’s what he wants. The fantasy is Bob’s problem. He’s bound to be dissatisfied with actual married life, or even the idea of marrying a particular partner, until that ideal is shattered. It’ll hurt like losing a limb, but in the end, reality is sometimes better than a dream.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Oh yeah, and he’s gross about it. “Darling”, “honey”, “sweetheart”, just to see his partner blush... or roll their eyes at him. Either works. He thinks he’s adorable.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Yes! Same with jealousy --- sometimes Bob will jump to conclusions, and it’s just like, “slow your roll there, marine”. He’s an overthinker, but he’s also quick with his fists, which is a dangerous combination. When he sees a situation that’s definitely not right (i.e. someone he cares about is blatantly being made uncomfortable, or is in danger) he will step in. No hesitation, suddenly he’s just there, with a gleam of challenge in his eyes and a biting remark on the tip of his tongue. If he can’t diffuse the situation with a few words... well, he’s prepared to get punched in the face for someone else’s sake.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

He doesn’t exactly sleep around, but again --- he’s a flirt. He’s popular, with ladies especially. Several back in Jersey, of course Stella in Melbourne, and he wasn’t exactly getting anything in the Army hospital, but after he gets home... he’s not above sleeping with coworkers, either, so the news office has gotten a little awkward at times. 5 - 6 partners, good for him.

#robert leckie #the pacific #i... love this man so much #this is my first in depth look at leckie and it came so easily???#i wrote this in an hour #normally these take 2-3 hours but his was EASY because he's just #so multilayered?? so interesting??#some of his worst flaws are my worst flaws and i hate him i LOVE him #headcanons #Anonymous

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houseofvans · 6 years ago

Photo

ART SCHOOL | IN SESSION WITH ROB SATO

From vibrant rainbows to familiar yet alien landscapes occupied by strange beings, LA based artist Rob Sato’s works are filled with creative energy in a loose minimalistic style. From watercolor, digital medium to acrylics and oil, Rob’s artworks and illustrations have been shown in various galleries from Giant Robot 2 to the Oakland Asian Cultural Center, where recently his original paintings for a comic called 442 were exhibited. We’re excited to chat with Rob about his work, his various collaborations and what he’s got coming up for the rest of the year. Take the Leap!

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself Hello, my name is Rob Sato. I’m an artist, illustrator, and writer. Something people might not know about me is that I was a kid I was so fanatical about the Oakland A’s that when they lost in the World Series I threw a tantrum so big that I destroyed my bedroom and after that I felt so stupid I quit following baseball. Also, I’m told I have maybe one of the great poop stories of the world. It can only be related in person, so ask me about it sometime if we ever meet.

How would you describe your work and style? Eclectic? Kaleidoscopic? I’ve never had a concise answer to this question. I tend not to pin myself down because I think if I did, I’d stop making things.

Art is my outlet for the cryptic and obscure as well as the gushing spillover of foolish idealism and wild fantasy. It’s the only place I’ve ever found where you can healthily play with unhealthy thoughts, where you can explore undefined emotions, things that lurk out in the corners of consciousness that may be embarrassing or uncontrollable.

I love to make entertainment and decorative work, things that tend to be obvious, that communicate very clearly and reveal all their cards, but I also love to make work that hides things, that actively resists easy understanding or recognition and risks being super personal or unrelatable and strange. This can make things difficult, especially in the ongoing deterioration of attention spans, but I can’t help but pursue things outside of a pop sensibility and logical thought. I have to be, much of the time, in mental wildernesses. It’s hard to get there, hard to be there, and hard to come back, but it keeps me going.

Tell us about how you really started getting into art, and how that turned into what you do now? Was it something you always intended to pursue? I’ve drawn every single day for as long as I can remember. I never really thought about it. It just seems to be what I do. It’s how I have fun, how I solve problems, how I think. I’ve wanted to pursue other things like make movies or write books, but I always find myself drawing. Before I know it, it’s time for bed again.

When you are working on a new piece or upcoming exhibition or show? What’s your process like? What themes do you find yourself taking on? I explode. I used to plan things in a very directed way, but lately I’ve just let my brains spill out everywhere. I make a ton of drawings and paintings, and try my best to be fearless and open. Most of it produces failure after failure, but it shows me what might be worth building on, plus many exciting surprises reveal themselves in the process. As a show nears I start seeing what things fit together, what needs to be edited out, and how it all might form a cohesive exhibition. Sometimes the subject matter is the glue that makes everything stick, other times it’s the aesthetics. Alongside the explosion I usually have 2 or 3 pieces going at any given time that I’ve had long term plans for. These pieces can take take months or even years.

Thematically I’m all over the place. War and peace, realism and surrealism, grim realities and escapism, sober observations and dumb jokes.

What are some of your go-to art making materials? Are there mediums you want to explore that you’ve yet to get your hands on? I feel pretty comfortable with anything you can use to make a mark on a piece of paper. I’ve mainly used watercolor and various drawing tools for the past several years. I’m been having fun with acrylics and oils again, and I’ve started to play around with photography a little. I’ve had ideas for sculpture and film for years that I’d really like to finally get to. What I really want to get my hands on is more time.

Where do you find inspiration? What kind of things or people inspire what you make? Watching someone pick their nose listening to headphones and singing softly to themselves in line at the grocery store. Just watching my cat live her weird life. Even though the final artwork may not really show it, these places are usually where my ideas originate. Art has also been a place where I can put memories that have some abstract need to be recorded.

I made this series of drawings called “Bad Hands”, which started out with me laughing at these dumb hands I was drawing with academically incorrect anatomy. Abandoning correctness felt so good. In the process it triggered a memory from High School. I had been forbidden from drawing in one of my classes, so I was contorting my hands into different shapes at my desk to amuse myself. There was a hysteria over gang activity in the school at the time and the teacher freaked out thinking I was throwing gang signs and I ended up getting sent to detention.

At detention I was talking with a friend and made fun of the teacher for her mistake. A kid who was in a gang overheard and then HE misunderstood and thought I was making fun of gangs or something. On my way home from school he and a couple dudes punched and kicked me for a bit while I tried and failed to explain. I think it’s funny.

So embedded in that piece is this tumbling series of misunderstandings, these multiple layers of hands being perceived as bad, speaking in an absurd language that communicates different things to different people. I know people aren’t going to see all those layers in the final piece, but that’s where it comes from and I hope it at least sparks some thoughts about talking with our hands, and where else can you follow this kind of train of thought except in art?

I get inspired by artists who seem to approach art as an intuitive discovery process rather than a pursuit of mastery, that play is one of the more important aspects of making things. My wife, Ako, has been a huge influence on me in this respect. She’s continuously playing with various materials around her at any given time and finding out what she can do with them. Everywhere she goes she abandons a nest made of fresh creations she’s manifested out of mud, string, packaging, plants, uneaten rice, her used drinking straw, lint and whatever else was within her reach

You’ve done a lot of collaborations with companies, museums and art galleries. Do you have a favorite collaboration, and what about the collaboration do you enjoy the most? I’ve recently been collaborating with Tiny Splendor, an indie publisher and printer who have studios in LA and Oakland. It’s been really great working with them, Cynthia Navarro in LA on risographs, and with Max Stadnik, who runs the print shop in Oakland.

Max has been returning to lithography, my favorite traditional printing medium, and he printed a piece of mine inspired by mushrooms called “Growerings". It’s a full 5 color print, which means it took five separate plates and each print had to go through the press 5 times. It turned out more beautifully than I could have hoped for. Litho is a super difficult but also very fun process and the results are so rich.

I think I particularly love this collaboration because the image fits the medium so well, and the combination of the two elevates the final piece of work, When it works, the artwork and the print become more than just an image on a piece of paper. It’s more alive in some undefinable way.

Since we’re called Art School, we always ask the artists to give us their favorite art tip? Never force the thing you think you want, you’ll probably miss out on the really interesting thing that’s happening. Also, don’t drink too much coffee. I have trouble taking both of these pieces of my own advice every day.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not making stuff? How do you chill out? I read and run. I love coffee and I love gossip and talking nonsense with friends. Also, I cannot stop watching Terrace House.

What is the last art show that you went to? What artists should folks keep an eye out for? I recently went to the Velveteria in LA’s Chinatown, which is one man’s collection of paintings on velvet. A very entertaining and very fucked up experience. I went to a life drawing session at Subliminal Projects and got to draw surrounded by Chad Kouri’s fun abstracts. I’m actually typing this interview inside an art show right now.

I’m here at my wife, Ako Castuera’s, show “Soil” at the Weingart Gallery at Occidental College. We’re here feeding worms. She sculpted this beautiful ceramic vermiculture composter for the show. It’s a grand temple for worms. The show is an act of gratitude for the exchange we have with the soil which provides the clay for ceramics, and for the worms who turn decay into healthy earth to grow new life in.

She sculpted a menagerie of creatures out of the worm poop that also populate the show. Super fun. Speaking of Ako and Subliminal, her show there with Hellen Jo and Kris Chau this past December was one of those once-in-a-lifetime powerhouse gathering of forces. That may have been the best show I’ve ever seen.

What advice would you give someone thinking about following in your footsteps? What’s something you learned that you want to pass along to art making newbies. Don’t listen to advice if it is extremely quotable. Pay no attention to it especially if it accompanies a photo of a famous artist and fits perfectly into an instagram post. If it’s easy to remember then it’s probably empty, crap inspiration. Those things are entertainments and not words to live by.

If you’re interested in making art you’ll keep making it. It takes day in, day out patience and exploration and mutation to discover how you really work, not some idea of how an artist works.

Sometimes it will be very hard, sometimes it will be so breathtakingly easy you think that your problems have been solved forever. Neither situation ever lasts, but cultivate and nurture your curiosity and what you love, and you’ll find ways to make it through the rough times and keep on making things one way or another.

Who are some of your favorite artists to follow and/or see in a show? Lately I’ve been really enjoying the work of Nathaniel Russell whose work makes this great space where funny, grounded matter-of-factness and sweet nothingness sit comfortably together. His drawing also reminds me of Ben Shahn, my all-time favorite drawer.

I really like Amy Bennet’s oils, these intimate studies of isolation in suburbia where mundanity overlaps with quiet drama and melancholy. Her work obliquely reminds me of Edwin Ushiro’s work, though his stuff is the opposite of melancholic. He captures almost incidental but haunted moments from growing up in Hawaii and infuses them with warmth, and it’s in a style influenced in a super personal way by animation. It reminds me of Satoshi Kon’s movies in its well observed, slice-of-life elements. Edwin’s sketchbooks are a treasure too. Esther Pearl Watson’s recent autobiographical paintings, Hellen Jo’s latest badass watercolors, Amber Wellman’s funny, playful oil paintings, and Matthew Palladino’s watercolors are also favorites.

Megan Whitmarsh’s work is some of my favorite to see in person. Her installation with Jade Gordon at the Hammer’s “Made In LA “ show was maybe the funnest work I’ve ever seen and interacted with. I went to see the Ai Wei Wei show at the Marciano Foundation, which I thought was impressive in scale and execution but still somehow lame, but I stumbled on a Mike Kelley installation/ video piece I’d never seen before in the upstairs collection and loved it so much, but I can’t remember the name of it at the moment.

It’s 2 videos shown side by side of the same guy wearing a cape singing almost the same song simultaneously, but each version has different words at different points. It’s a love song but one version is more bitter and mean and one is sickly sweet. Anyway, highly recommended!

What do you have coming up the rest of the year that you can share with us? For just a few more days there’s a show up at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center with a bunch of my original paintings for a comic I illustrated about the 442, the Japanese American Army unit of World War II. Plus it has some personal work about Japanese American Incarceration and images from my family’s experience in the concentration camps. My grandfather was incarcerated in the Arkansas camps, and he was a soldier in the 442.

Next up, I’m in a slew of group shows all happening within a few weeks of each other this month. Poor scheduling on my part as usual, but it’s nice to be invited to so many. I just sent off my piece to the “Seeing Red” show curated by Jeff Hamada of the BOOOOOOOM art and culture blog. That show will be at Thinkspace in LA. Giant Robot has been kind enough to host another solo show for me in September.

I’ve been busy experimenting with some more 3d stuff that pushes the more narrative side of my work which I hope to show there. We’ll see how the experiments turn out. I’ve also been working on a ton of prints and ideas for books. This year I want to focus on working in print, making zines and comics, and writing a lot more.

FOLLOW ROB | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE | SHOP

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Rob Sato #Art School #painting #interview

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overanalyzinglifesince1992 · 5 years ago

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Thursday

As my notebook sits in my lap while driving the winding roads of Echo Canyon and I scribble these thoughts onto the page, I know I must write. There is a being inside me screaming to get out. Clawing its way to the surface not knowing what form to take but yearning to be seen and heard - but where to begin? Maybe I’ve had it all wrong and the beginning isn’t the place to start at all. Maybe the answer is in the present moment in the form of this small town in Wyoming. Maybe the answer is to work my way back to the beginning.

“If you ever hear that crying in the distance like some siren. Maybe there's a singer with no ring around their little finger, no love And If I lose my voice If I have no choice but to go quiet Won't you sing for me a melody into the night there Well, if I die too young, if the wolf he comes Fee-fi-fo-fum If I die too young, oh, if the locust come Well then, run, run, run Free,”

Kevin Morby sings to me in my headphones and I recall my day.

How do I go from helping run a company and having 40 or so employees to suddenly lying in bed with no place to go,” I think to myself. I can already tell by how high the sun is that I’ve slept too long. My phone begins to ring and I am painfully reminded that my work here is not yet done. I feel stuck and ashamed that even though I wish I had more to do it feels like too much of a challenge to answer the phone and say, “hello,” as if I wasn’t stuck in my head contemplating my existence. None of the calls were from M which made me sink my face further into the pillow. It takes me a while to get out of bed but I eventually make my way to the kitchen and boil water for the french press. As I look around at the disheveled room I muster up enough energy to throw some clothes in the wash and file the paper work accumulating at the foot of my bed. I throw away old coupons and scribbled notes only to uncover a few envelopes addressed to ------ “little bit” MD which I hover over a moment before ripping up and throwing away only to panic and piece them together one last time as if it would save our friendship. I look at my phone and toss it to the bed after I see a few missed calls and texts from all the wrong people. I eat my breakfast and spend too much time cleaning and tinkering but not actually getting anything done besides listening to the same song on repeat which I’m convinced I must have set a record somewhere.

This is how my life goes. I get grand ideas and just as I start to go after them I let myself get side tracked by an adventure or man and feel as high as the moon until I’m disappointed to the point of oblivion or loneliness and next thing I know I’m off on a run trying to shake the feeling, eating a cookie in my car in the middle of the night, or sitting alone in my room wondering how so many hours have passed waiting for the next bout of inspiration.

NOON

I’m late for my meeting and it’s at this moment M decides to tell me how happy and free he is followed by a picture of him and his lover. It sounds as if he is saying goodbye after being MIA for a day and a half and I try not to curse as I realize things will never change. I have been a slave to his insecure temperament or better yet my own. While in the meeting I hear people share about needing one another and living a life we don’t deserve and all I can say before getting choked up to the point of embarrassment is that the insidiousness of my alcoholism and dis·ease creeps up and makes me so uncomfortable I could crawl out of my skin and how grateful I am to have their support. Some days I shine so bright I could light the souls of everyone in the room and stand up against old fuddy duddy’s trying to scold newcomers into staying sober and some days saying something -anything - out loud seems like a triumph. I talked with M A after the meeting and agreed to stop by her house to potentially rent it and again looked at her with appreciation and my first smile of the day as she talked with a big grin followed by an innocent giggle after talking which always warms my heart and leaves me wanting to heal her broken and newly sober heart after the passing of her husband, almost as if she was my own grandmother.

Lunch with G, a retired english teacher and pastor, and J, the retired hot shot executive who now walks with a cane but never misses a moment to share one of his wild stories of the high life never fails to make me laugh. Today they both gave me praises about being a joy to the rooms and started to pry about my love life and family. We had a lengthy conversation about my unwillingness to give up my autonomy to settle down followed by some of J’s stories of past wives and luxury problems like a prince wanting to marry his wife and how he worked too much and his children didn't like him dating someone his own age. G and I laughed and then I dove into my many questions about love and loss and why they thought the relationships failed adding in talk of finance and how they both got from point a to point b. By the end of the talk we had discussed the bible and religion, a woman on a leash getting out of a limo in Las Vegas, and a couple fatherly nudges to pursue my own career. There was talk of job opportunities and the argument about going to school to pursue money vs. dreams and if I was on the hunt for love or God or both. We eventually hugged and parted ways. I internally thanked them for filling my head with confidence.

Later, after walking around a local farmers market and running into a few friends I cruised over to M A’s house and spent an hour talking about her late husbands archeological work and her art work and then a story of how the two met. I watched her eyes sparkle as she reminisced about the beginning of their relationship and found myself feeling better and better. As she spoke about falling in love with the last blind date she ever went on I was reminded how much joy it brings me to simply have the privilege to hear so many stories. What a simple yet beautiful gift to peek into the lives of others gaining a bit of insight on what makes them tick. There seems to be some sort of answer or truth in it all but I can’t quite figure out what.

On my way home I received a call from --- inviting me to stop by and since I was on a roll I did just that. He drank and smoked pot and we laughed at how crazy of a summer it has been. We sat on the porch and looked over the acres of land and maybe it was the sunset or the booze talking but somewhere in our reflection of the difficult times and agreeing on the importance of having each others back he began to cry. For whatever reason on this particular night he shared with me what happened to him at age 27, a freak accident on the farm in which he backed over his friend, taking his life. It was all so heavy and I flashed through our entire friendship and his drug and alcohol use in the few years I knew him and before I knew what I was saying I asked if he believed in God or a higher power. I turned towards him and said, “it’s okay to forgive yourself. Do you know that?” I pointed to the mountains and the sun setting and insisted that there had to be a beautiful loving higher power with a greater plan and that some things happen for no reason. “It’s okay to let go and move forward. It was an accident and you can let go now. it’s okay.” And just like that, there was my inspiration. It’s in the stories of these strangers and friends. It is kinsmanship following tragedy. It is the shared moments in between all the things we ever hoped for. And just like that the gratitude for my life set in. I realized what strength is within me and how precious life is. So precious that I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for knowing what I want in my career, in my love life, and with my time. If I can experience this much in one day without worry about a HIM or an IT then what would life look like after a week or a month. If I can be so filled up after just half a day spent with others then what might I look like if I practiced letting those moments fill my spiritual cup rather than the connections I have?

I know this day was special but I’m too tired to continue.

Until soon.

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sparkleywonderful · 6 years ago

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The Prince of Ice: Ch.24.4

Part 24.4 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

The Prince of Ice Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ] [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ] [ 24.1 ] [ 24.2 ] [ 24.3 ] [ 24.4 ] [ 24.5 ] [ 24.6 ] [ 24.7 ] [ AO3 ]

A/N: I have been dying to write this chapter, just dying. It was so much fun to write and I always felt that this exclusive belonged in the book. Although we all filled in the gaps, it is the first time you truly see the friendship that is growing between Rowan and Aelin. For tumblr, I will be braking this apart into seven sections for your viewing pleasure.

Gratitude goes to @bookofademigod and @themaasofwar for posting the target exclusive. Without this I would have never been able to write this very important POV.

- - - - - - -

Months before Aelin reclaimed her identity as the long-lost Queen of Terrasen, she still called herself Celaena Sardothien - and was trained to wield her rekindled magic by a Fae Prince in a mountain fortress of Wendlyn… Despite their rough beginning, Aelin and Rowan have finally formed a solid friendship, based on mutual respect, trust, and more than a bit of banter. But just when their bond begins to shift into something neither of them quite anticipates - something far deeper - the fortress of Mistward receives a visit from three Fae nobles. And one of them claims some very, very personal ties to Rowan himself. Read on for an exclusive deleted scene from Heir of Fire, in which Aelin gets her first glimpse of the Fae nobility of Doranelle, and a bit more of Rowan’s history is revealed to her … with fiery consequences.

- - - - - - -

He paced his rooms after Remelle left. The raging anger refusing to diminish. He shifted in the hope that a flight would clear the emotions coursing through him. Not surprising he perched outside the kitchen, ensuring that Remelle did not find her blood scattered throughout the kitchen.

Aelin did indeed go to the kitchen, where she helped Emrys prepare the meal. Luca was there, prattling away, but the chatter stopped mid-sentence. He had no idea how she could stand his constant prattling.

Essar was standing at the foot of the stairs, smiling faintly.

“Dinner won’t be ready for another twenty minutes,” Aelin said, wiping her hands on a dishcloth before approaching the lady. Luca was practically gaping at the small beauty, but Essar gave him a polite smile and he immediately found himself interested in whatever he was doing with a hint of a blush. “I can show you to the dining hall, if you’d like to wait there.”

“Oh, no. Benson’s in there already, and he … I think I’d have more fun in here.”

“It can be chaotic and loud and messy in here—”

“I know how a kitchen operates,” Essar said. “Just tell me what work needs to be done, and I’ll do it.”

Aelin looked to Emrys, who bowed and introduced himself and Luca—whose blush went beet red at the attention. Aelin stood chopping vegetables beside the Essar. He should fly away, but a small part of him was curious with what Essar would see in Aelin. Her gift of fire was nothing compared to Aelin’s, her true gift he was coming to realize was reading people.

Aelin broke the silence,“So, you’re just … travelling around?”

“Maeve gave us a task, which I’m not supposed to talk about, but yes—it involved us travelling for a bit. We’re on our way back to Doranelle though—thank the Bright Lady.”

Aelin raised a brow. ‘Mala?”

Essar lifted a hand, and flames danced on her fingertips. “Not much of a gift, but it kept us warm on the road at least.”

He watched as Aelin swallowed. He knew that she’d never met another fire-wielder. “Is it hard—to master the fire?”

He was not surprised that Aelin continued to hide her gift. It was then that he realized there was a secondary reason for Maeve sending Esaar on this task.

Essar shrugged. “I was very young when my training began, and I’ve had about two centuries to master what little power I have. Aside from a few burns and blisters, I’ve never really been able to do much harm, or impress anyone, really. Remelle’s got the more interesting gift—her magic lends itself toward mastering any language she hears, no matter how briefly. It’s why Maeve likes to send her around to places. And Benson’s got a knack for becoming invisible whenever he wants to, which …” Essar winced.

“Makes him a good listener,” Aelin finished finished for her.

Essar responded wanting to move from talking of the others,“You must have impressive gifts if Prince Rowan is training you.”

“I—”

“Those vegetables done?” Emrys asked, he was once again reminded how astute the demi-Fae male was.

Essar said casually, “I can’t imagine Rowan is as easy teacher.”

“You could say that.”

“But they’re all like that—Rowan and his companions who serve the queen.”

“You know them?”

Essar blushed. “I was involved with Lorcan, their leader, for a time. But—his lifestyle and mine are very different.”

“And what is Lorcan like?”

“A demi-Fae, like you.”

Aelin masked her surprise. Essar went on, “He has had to prove himself every single day, every hour, since he was born. Even though his power isn’t challenged��by anyone other than Rowan that is—he … Lorcan is not an easy male to be around. Some days, I’m surprised he has friends.”

“And Rowan is his friend?”

Essar gave Aelin an amused smile. “In a way. They frighten even us, you know. Especially when they’re together. When Rowan and Lorcan are together in a room … Let’s just say that they sometimes do not leave that room intact by the time they depart. Or the city for that matter.”

True, Essar had even seen that there was little friendship between him and Lorcan, more of a common goal and the ability to destroy anything that stood in their way or Maeve’s way. Though the destruction came from different places and needs within each of them.

“And yet Maeve lets them work together?”

“She would be a fool to let either of them go—which is why she bound them to her with the blood oath. They’ve levelled cities for her before.”

“Actually levelled cities?”

Essar nodded gravely. “And yet Remelle thinks she can control Rowan—wants to possess him.”

“She’s an idiot.”

“Indeed. But power is power, and since Remelle can’t look past Lorcan’s mixed bloodline, Rowan is her only other option.”

“Would—would their children also belong to Maeve, the way Rowan does?”

Essar cocked her head. “I don’t know. None of his companions have sired offspring, so there’s no way of telling what Maeve would do.”

He could see Aelin’s shudder, “You don’t seem to speak as reverently as the others do about her.”

“Not all Fae are her willing slaves, you know. And part of—part of why my relationship with Lorcan fell apart was due to that. He is blood-sworn to her, and no matter how I cared for him, I am most certainly not. Nor will I ever swear such an oath.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are training with the most dangerous pure-blooded Fae male in the world, and yet he treats you as an equal. He presented you as his equal.”

He did not realize he had done such an innate action in front of the nobles. Even he was just realizing and coming to terms with the fact that Aelin was his equal and if given the chance he knew that she would surpass him. He had to remember to mask himself, that action was dangerous both for Aelin and himself.

“I think Rowan just didn’t feel like dealing with Remelle alone.”

“Probably. But he’s also dealt with her on his own plenty. And since Rowan’s not one to show off a new companion just to spite an old lover …”

“I’m not sure I follow what you’re getting at.”

“I find it all very interesting.”

“I think you’re reading a bit into it.”

But Essar only gave her a soft smile. “I’m sure I am.”

He had been fighting for weeks this connection between them. The likelihood that they were Carranam. As he flew off, it unsettled him a bit that Essar could see the bond that they were beginning to form. Such a bond was dangerous not only because he was blood sworn to Maeve, but a bond like this could destroy him or the princess. A bond that Essar felt she needed to warn Aelin of.

#The Prince of Ice #Prince of Ice #rowan whitethorn #rowan pov #heir of fire #aelin ashryver galathynius #sparkleywonderful

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wardog-of-the-endless · 6 years ago

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Wardog’s Fic Masterpost

You can find nearly all fics through my AO3 account, but here’s a list of links!

The Old Guard

Immortal Husbands- Nicolo di Genova x Yusuf al-Kaysani

A Hunting (We Will Go); Part of Moonrise In The Hallows

Halloween Oneshot (Within a Larger Verse); Teen & Up- The Guard is a Shifter Pack, led by the fierce wolf Andy. Her fellow wolves Sebastian & Nile, along with the hyenas Lykon and Yusuf are fierce and far-ranging. To say nothing of the vampire, Nico, that is somehow one of them. When their youngest wolf goes missing, the Guard hunts down those responsible and will terminate them without hesitation. The fact that there's another prisoner being held in the basement probably isn't important...

Reluctantly Making Art

Ongoing; Teen & Up- While Yusuf al-Kaysani would prefer to be a hermit in his apartment and get over his recently ended bad relationship (and subsequently worse breakup), he has friends that have decided that is not his decision to make. He might ignore them, except for the fact that they're his best friends AND the most terrifying women he's ever met, so he doesn't have much choice. He goes to breakfast, he goes to art class, and he falls head over heels for the beautiful Italian man sitting as the model. Because of course, he does; that was the plan all along. (Joe has to admit... it's a pretty good plan.)

MARVEL

IronStrange- Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

Wishes (Better Left Ungranted)

Complete; General Audiences- Tony makes a few wishes, but some are better left ungranted.

‘Till Then

Complete; Mature- Stephen Strange is trying to work at Kamar-Taj when his boyfriend texts him... from his Malibu bed. Stephen opens a portal to talk to him about it and they wind up, not really talking about it. ( Tony Stark Bingo Explicit Card A4 KINK: Masturbation)

The Theory of Magic

Ongoing- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- A get together series in which Stephen Strange has a crush and actually makes a movie. Stories are Complete but the Series is Ongoing, available for expansion via prompts when open.

Remind Me

Study and Practice

Burden of Proof

Absence Makes the Heart

Time Heals All

Ongoing- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- Stephen Strange and Tony Stark are married. A little Team Cap antagonistic. Part 3 is a little Dark!IronStrange.

What the Doctor Ordered

Cloak and Dagger

Break Rules (Not Oaths)

IronPanther- Tony Stark x T’Challa

Hot Chocolate

Complete; General Audiences- (Fluff and Flirting)- So a combination of a prompt and a ship. From jacarandabanyan "Hot Chocolate" and bash-it-all's "IronPanther".

WinterHawk- James Barnes x Clint Barton

Well-Armed (To Hold)

Complete; Teen Audiences- Tumblr Prompt: "Would you ever write WinterHawk? <3"

A Meddling Affection

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- A belated Birthday ficlet for the lovely Ru! Combined with Tumblr Prompt: All Avengers, clock, poking (Heading toward WinterIronHawk)

WinterIron- James Barnes x Tony Stark

Children of Light

Ongoing Series; General to Teen- Slowbuild to WinterIron. Deals with the Death of JARVIS, the first activation of FRIDAY, and JARVIS’s eventual resurrection. (Note that J is the “Major Character Death” referenced.) This is angsty because I have FEELINGS about the loss of JARVIS and the fact that we never mourned him in MCU. Stories and Series ongoing.

Son of Stark

To Lose a Child

A Child’s Initiative

I Will Always Find You

Complete; General Audiences- Tony as Snow White, Bucky as Prince Charming in an AU snippet of OUAT.

Collision With a Dream

Complete; General Audiences- Bucky's walking along arguing about Russian Lit when he literally runs over his dream guy. Tasha does what she usually does, she makes it worse. That's alright, Tony's apparently the forgiving sort.

(You Wanna) Date My Dad

Complete; General Audiences- Featuring Harley Keener! "Would you ever write a fic where Bucky meets Harley?"

To Cure a Hangover (You Need Espresso and a Date)

Ongoing; General Audiences- Prompt: "Would you ever write: WinterIron with age difference? Like teacher!Bucky with Student!Tony? :P"

I Was Promised a Flying Car

Complete; General Audiences- Prompt: Would you ever write a fic where Tony and Bucky is bonding over being nerds/loving science? (And doing all kinds of wacky, mythbuster-esque experiments that Tony whips up any time Bucky begins a sentence with "I wonder what would happen if...?")So it's not "science" driven, but science nerd Bucky did spend his last night before deployment at the Stark Expo, staring at a flying car...

Mechanics, Millionaires, Models & More

Ongoing Series; General Audiences- Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne are friends from childhood. When Tony as a single dad catches the eye of the model James Barnes, there’s some mutual Instagram-Stalking and a lot of flirting.

Tony’s First Friend

Coping for An Age

(Walk Walk) Fashion Baby

Milkshakes and Motorcycles

Ongoing; Teen Audiences- Bucky, second to the Captain for the Howling Commandos, hears a scuffle around the corner and finds himself with an armful of just about the prettiest little lost lamb he's ever seen. Since Tony don't seem too keen on his now-ex, Bucky's gonna buy him a milkshake, wrap him in a leather jacket, and hopefully show him a good time.

California Dreamin’ A Beach Bums Verse

Ongoing; Teen Audiences- Note: A Special Collaboration Series! This is a WinterIron get together with puns, angst, fluff and more! Make sure to read my partner maevee’s stories!

Don’t Tell (Secrets)

(Everyday Is A) Winding Road

Mai Tai (Offer You A Drink)

When You Wish Upon A Stark -Maevee!

We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Bucky -Maevee!

Adorato

Ongoing; James Barnes, the Winter Soldier, has been out of the ice and Hydra’s hands for a month the first time he hears a familiar voice. (A SoulMate AU)

True, Strong and Brave

Ongoing; Teen- Bucky Barnes moves into the tower and receives help from an otherwise elusive Iron Man. But when the team gets called out and things go wrong, Steve gets a reality check as to what has been done in his name. Bucky steps up, he's one of the few who can. (Team Cap Critical; Anti-Wanda)

Tired

Complete; General Audiences- From a Prompt on Tumblr: Random Sentence- “I’ll do it for you.”

(Were) Whisperer

Ongoing; Mature- In a world where Aliens rain destruction from portals through space, ancient Gods arrive on beams of light, and a certain Billionaire Philanthropist darts around the world in a metal suit: there really is a very high bar for what is considered "weird". Shapeshifters hardly register, having been long known. You’re either a Human, a Were, or a Whisperer. Most people can prove whether they’re the first or the second, a few will lie about being the third. Alternately, there's Tony. Tony Stark is one of the few people pretending the first and burying the third, and he’s more or less in the clear with it until Steve Rogers catches up with the Winter Soldier, and brings him home to Avengers Tower. Tony doesn’t have to say a word, the Wolf knows differently.

An Attraction

Complete; Jurassic World AU- Write... a crossover/au of the last non-marvel movie you saw and marvel (if ships, winteriron?). Essentially Jurassic World & Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom Snippets with WinterIron. Originally Posted on Tumblr: Expansion Pack for AO3!

The Continental

Teen- From the Prompt: “ Would you ever write: Winteriron as a John Wick!AU?” James "Winter" Barnes has been accepted into The Continental Hotel's exclusive clientele. While preparing for a job he visits the Hotel Lounge and meets the gorgeous singer, Tony Stark. The Owner's Son, the New Manager... Maybe the love of his life.

Impressions

Ongoing; General Audiences- So my adorable FandomNiece made me a beautiful Moodboard for True, Strong and Brave. I offered a gratitude fic for her pairing and trope of choice! This is a WinterIron Identity Porn story!

New Hire

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- In reaction to the Prompt: "Actually totally WinterIron and Peteypie, with...sitter or teacher Bucky???" (And things got out of control as they do, I guess.)Essentially: Pepper hires a Bodyguard/Babysitter for Peter out of SHIELD's ranks. Tony is spiky about it, at least until he gets a look at the guy. (Yeah, he wants to climb that like a tree.)

(Let’s Go) Dancing

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- This is a Marvel Universe-Center Stage Fusion AU that no one asked for and everyone is getting anyway. Tony dances for the American Ballet Company as their featured ballerino, performing under the name Antonio Carbonell. James and Steve are two of the ABC's newest students, and James gets a chance to meet his crush on his first day. Just his luck, Tony is even better in person. (Natalia may have been setting them up all along.)

Next Year Will Be Better

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- Just a quick story for Tony's birthday. Pre-Slash Tony Stark/James Barnes, and Tony acting as IronDad to the Spider Son and his Potato Gun Son.

The Most Powerful (Pillowfight)

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- In which Carol and Tony (aggressively) support each other and then do battle (with pillows) for their honor. Or each other's honor? It's unclear, things got out of control. (James Rhodes loves these idiots way too much.) This is a fill for the TSB 2019 Square: T2: A BATTLE/FIGHT/CONFRONTATION

Coffee, Curses, Kisses

Complete; General Audiences- Tony Stark drags himself out of his workshop on a regular Thursday morning. Well, mostly a regular morning. Except for Clint Barton lying on the breakfast bar in themed underwear. The theme is new, the rest is depressingly familiar. Ok, so maybe the rose petals are new too. (What the hell, Clint?) It's enough to make a billionaire grateful for the Avengers Alarm. Wait a minute, magic too? Fuck, this is just not Tony's day. (Until it really, really is.)This is a Fill for Tony Stark Bingo 2019 S4: FIRST KISS

Riding Roughshod

Ongoing; Teen & Up- The Heroic Captain America wakes up in a world that is integrated far beyond what he would have dreamed of when he went into the ice, though he never expected to be a part of it. A pioneer of mixed-race teams back in his own day, the last thing he expects is to be called upon to do so once again, this time gathering a group of heroes from some rather unlikely places. If that weren't enough to worry about, there's a wild-card Soldier with a familiar fighting style making trouble at top-security bases all over the world... and a shiny red and gold suit that doesn't seem to answer to anyone. That's to say nothing of the kid genius that's supposedly behind it.This is a Fill for Tony Stark Bingo 2019 R4: CentaursThis is a Fill for Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019 K3: Tony Stark/ Iron Man

Love Like Knives

Complete One Shot; Mature- Winter wakes up Tony when he wants someone to play rough with.This is a Bingo Fill for Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019. U4: [Image: Winter Soldier holding a knife.]

(I Will Try) To Fix You

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- Dark Fic; An Extremis-modified Tony Stark decides he could run the world better than those currently in power, but he needs his pliable boyfriend James to go away and the Winter Soldier to come back...

WinterIron Week 2019

Day 1. The B Team First Meeting/“Are we really gonna do this here?”

Day 2. Done “You done yet?”

Day 3. A Second Take, A First Impression Bed Sharing / “I’m not drunk enough for this.” / Soulmates

Day 5. Hunting For (You) Celebration / “Bad timing?” / Prosthetic Arms

Day 6. Give It Away Identity Porn / “You should shut up now.” / Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart

WinterWidow/RussianRoulette- James Barnes x Natasha Romaova

No Fics Currently

Stony- Steve Rogers x Tony Stark

A Guardian of Light

Ongoing; Teen- a.k.a. that time Steve sank the Valkyrie in the Arctic and became a spirit-walking wolf to guide Tony, at Frigga’s suggestion.

Shield Studios Ltd.

Complete- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- All the Avengers in a non-powered voice-acting AU for an animated show called "Assemble" staring their Marvel counterparts. Tony/Steve have a mutual admiration/crush but it's not actually romantic and can be read as gen.

Assemble!

Phil’s Failed Plan

You’re Welcome to Try

The Vague & The Unmistakable

Complete; General Audiences- Looking back on it, there are several things that should have tipped Steve off that today was his Birthday. (Starting with the fact that it's suddenly clear Tony engineered every one of them.)

Stucky- Steve Rogers x James Barnes

No Fics Currently

Stuckony- Steve Rogers x James Barnes x Tony Stark

On The Wing

Complete- Open for Expansion; Teen- A Wing AU for Stuckony. Stories are Complete but the Series is Ongoing, available for expansion via prompts when open.

Fluttering

Turtledove

(I’ll) Be Good

Complete; Mature- So when the tumblr prompt "Would you ever write...ABO winterironshield with alpha Tony?" meets my Kink Card S2 Square "Alpha/Beta/Omega Society" this is where we end up.

Allergic to Coddling

Complete (But Possibly Ongoing); From the Prompt: "Would you ever write Tony Stark having an allergic reaction to something and the rest of the Avengers babying him to the point of ridiculousness because they just love him so much?" Sort of Stuckony, sort of Everyone is Poly Because Avengers? Your choice.

Poly Avengers- Everyone Loves Everyone

Everybody Loves Me

Ongoing; From the Prompt: "Would you ever write a TonyXEveyone fic? Not exactly everyoneXeveryone, but everyone *in love* with Tony only?" Note this is a Partial Fill which may be expanded on later. Featuring Tales of Suspense Hawkeye/Comic Clint Barton, aka deaf and a dumpster kid until the end.

Non Romantic- No Shipping

Shut UP, Bucky!

Complete; Teen- From the hellscape of Discord Discussions I bring you: QueenWuppy: "During World War II condoms were not only distributed to male U.S. military members, but enlisted men were also subject to significant contraception propaganda in the form of films, posters, and lectures. A number of slogans were coined by the military, with one film exhorting "Don't forget — put it on before you put it in." "guys i was doing research and and steve and bucky were subjected to this". AKA Bucky makes SO MANY COMMENTS about Super Soldier Sized Protection. So many.

We Can’t Plot Murder All The Time

Complete; General Audiences- From the Prompt: "Would you ever write Deadpool/Tony (IronPool? DeadMan? IronDead? Dunno their ship name :b)" AN: I don’t ship them so this is a non-romantic.

Video Games and Phoenix Metaphors

Complete; General Audiences- Pepper plays Pokemon GO for SI Employee Morale... But she thinks the boss should be in on it too, and the best way to get Tony to do something is to get Rhodey to do something, and then clue Tony in. (Hint: It works.)

(The Upgrade) You’re Missing

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- Riri Williams is having a bad day, and though her AI TONY can't fix it, he can call in reinforcements.

The Losers

A Touch of Grace

Ongoing Series; Gen to Teen- Cougar has a bad feeling right before the Fadhil operation, and he admonishes Jake to be careful. Jake mostly pays attention, but Cougs is pretty distracting. (Slight D/s tones and Subspace.)

If I Touch You, Will You Listen? (Cougar’s POV)

If I Listen, Will You Touch Me? (Jensen’s POV)

You and Tequila (Make Me Crazy)

Ongoing; Teen & Up- Fortalvarez Tequila is a family business that's been in operation for a hundred and fifty years. Currently, under the management of the family matriarch Constanza, the business will soon be passed to her beloved grandson Carlos. The problem is, Constanza does not care for modern technology or the fact that all of her grandbabies (but especially her favorite) are single. Her solution is a single advertisement for a new Social Media Expert, which is about to be answered by the very handsome (and rather impulsive) Jake Jensen.From the Prompt: "Cougar's family runs a tequila distillery in Mexico. A luxury one. But his abuelita is getting too old to run the place with the firm hand that's required and someone has to take over. Jensen? Jensen is GREAT at social media management. SOMEONE WRITE IT SO I DON'T HAVE TO."

Tag (You’re It)

Complete One Shot; Teen & Up- Jake hacks a new system for the express purpose of getting the Losers prank dog tags printed and delivered. Mostly because his Unit is full of people that make bad decisions, himself included. And also? To flirt with Cougar. Jake is willing to do stupid, stupid things in order to flirt with Cougar.

#wakandan wardog #Wardog Writes Stuff #My Fic Post #Fic Masterlist #Stucky #Stony #WinterIron #WinterHawk #IronStrange #Stuckony #Poly Avengers #The Old Guard #Yusuf x Nicolo #TOG Fanfic #MARVEL Fanfic #The Losers Fanfic

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romancatholicreflections · 6 years ago

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12th August >> Sunday Homilies and Reflections for Roman Catholics on the Nineteenth Sunday In Ordinary Time, Cycle B. Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B Gospel reading: John 6:41-51 vs.41 The Jews were complaining to each other about Jesus, because he had said, “I am the bread that came from heaven.” vs.42 “Surely this is Jesus son of Joseph” they said. “We know his father and mother. How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” vs.43 Jesus said in reply, “Stop complaining to each other. vs.44 No one can come to me unless he is drawn by the Father who sent me, and I will raise him up at the last day. vs.45 It is written in the prophets: ‘They will all be taught by God,’ and to hear the teaching of the Father, and learn from it, is to come to me. vs.46 Not that anyone has seen the Father, except the one who comes from God; he has seen the Father. I am the bread of..vs.47 I tell you most solemnly, everybody who believes has eternal life. vs.48 I am the bread of life. vs.49 Your fathers ate the manna in the desert and they are dead; vs.50 but this is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that a man may eat it and not die. vs.51 I am the living bread which has come down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I shall give is my flesh, for the life of the world.” ******************************************* We have three commentators available from whom you may wish to choose . Michel DeVerteuil :A Trinidadian Holy Ghost Priest, director of the Centre of Biblical renewal . Thomas O’Loughlin:Prof,MRIA, FRHistS, FSA President of the Catholic Theological Association of Great Britain, Director Studia Traditionis Theologiae, Professor of Historical Theology University of Nottingham NG7 2RD Sean Goan:Studied scripture in Rome, Jerusalem and Chicago and teaches at Blackrock College and works with Le Chéile Donal Neary SJ: Editor of The Sacred Heart Messenger and National Director of The Apostlship of Prayer. **************************************** Michel DeVerteuil Lectio Divina with the Sunday Gospels www.columba.ie Textual Comments In this passage, Jesus again draws lessons about life from the feeding of the five thousand. I remind you that all teaching of Jesus recorded in the gospels is intended to speak to experience, and we must therefore appeal to our experience to discover its truth. This can be difficult with passages like these: one reason is that the language is not the kind that we use ordinarily. Some expressions – such as “eternal life,” “being drawn by the Father,” “living bread,” “flesh” – you will have to bring down to earth for yourself, applying them to what you have lived yourself. There is, however, a more important reason why we may find this passage difficult to relate to experience: it contains deep teaching, speaking of a level of experience that we seldom reflect on because we all tend to live at the surface of ourselves. In meditating on these passages then, you must remember deep experiences. You will naturally think of deep conversion – for example, a retreat that changed your life, a Life in the Spirit Seminar, or a prayer moment that you have never forgotten. But you need not stay with prayer moments. You could think of other deep experiences – a movement, for example, or a leader who touched your life. The passage will help you understand these experiences and put them in the context of your growth as a person. As always with gospel stories, you can focus on the person of Jesus, letting him remind you of someone very important to you and in the process, of the kind of person you yourself would like to be; or then you can focus on the journey the people were called to make, recognizing a journey that you or people you love are making or have made. Remember also that the fruit of your meditation is that you find yourself repeating the actual words of the passage prayerfully and with great gratitude to God for his grace. It is not possible to meditate deeply on a passage like this all together – divide it up and take one section at a time. You will usually find that one section is all you can go into over a week, although you may be able to connect the other sections after a time. I would suggest diving the passage as follows: – Verses 41 to 44 describe a journey that Jesus invites the people to make. – In vs. 41 and 42 they are ‘complaining’: their lives are so ordinary that God could not possibly be with them. All they can see is ‘the son of Joseph’ whose father and mother ‘they knew’. – In vs. 43 and 44 Jesus asks them to look beyond that same ordinary reality and recognize two things: a) that the meeting with him is not by chance but by God’s grace; and b), that it is a meeting that has great significance, not merely here and now, but for all eternity. What encounter in your own experience resulted in your making that kind of journey? What kind of leader is able to challenge people to make such a journey? – Verses 45 and 46 speak of a similar journey, this time as one of ‘hearing’ or ‘being taught’ or ‘learning’. We can know right teaching, but in an abstract way; when we come to Jesus, we learn God’s lessons personally as if he had taken us aside and given us individual tutoring. Identify a moment when you made that journey and who was the Jesus you ‘came to’. Verse 46 makes an interesting comment on the process: we don’t have to have seen God, only the one who came from God. – Verse 47. Take this verse by itself, as a reflection on a fact of life. ‘Believes’ is left vague, and so you are free to take it in as wide a sense as you want, of any act of faith. On the other hand, you can also take it to refer to real faith. Think of people who have risked their lives, their careers or friendships for the sake of non-violence or for the liberation of oppressed people, or for honesty. Remembering them, you gradually discover the meaning of ‘having eternal life’ and you will feel a kind of awe as he reflected on the power of that kind of faith, ‘I tell you most solemnly’. Remember world-famous people, but don’t limit yourself to them: remember members of your own family or your village community. A negative way of appreciating this powerful verse would be to reflect on the emptiness of a life without faith. “If a man has not discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live” (…Martin Luther King). yes, you are hearing right. Me, 'I am the bread of life.' Yes, you are hearing right. Me, ‘I am the bread of life.’ – In verses 48 to 50 Jesus speaks of himself as bread. This is a metaphor that is quite frequent in the Bible to describe the teaching of a leader. Jesus makes a distinction between two kinds of teacher or leader. There are those who when they find people in the wilderness are content to give them manna after which they die. Jesus is a different kind of teacher: through his teaching people are set free from within themselves so that they live. His teaching gives unlimited depth to a person’s life. – In verse 51 the teaching is repeated but Jesus makes a new point which he will make clearer in the following passage: the bread he gives is his flesh. Make sure you bring this expression down to experience. ‘Flesh’ in Bible language means various things. Here it clearly stresses that Jesus is a source of life by giving himself, not abstract teaching but his own self-sacrificing love. The word goes deeper and says that Jesus did not give himself in power but in weakness, and this of course is a tremendous lesson about giving life to others. Prayer Reflection Lord, we often complain about – our bad health, our failures – the friends who let us down, our parish community – society today with its materialism, its selfishness, its crimes. How can anybody say that you are with us? But Jesus tells us to stop complaining; unless you were drawing us we would not be where we are. The people we live with, the situations we find ourselves in, all are your gift to us and they can raise us up to your presence. In fact they can raise us up on the last day. “Our prayer has had a beginning because we have had a beginning. But it will have no end. It will accompany us into eternity and will be completed in our contemplation of God.” …Carlo Carretto Lord, we thank you for moments of deep prayer; we can only come to them because you draw us there and we know that they will take us beyond the last day. Lord, we thank you, those of us who preach the Word, for calling us to be part of this mystery. People are there, listening to us as they listen to other speakers, but they cannot really come to us unless you draw them. On the other hand, those words of ours, poor though they may be, can raise them up so high that they are beyond the reach of death and of all that can harm them. Lord, we have known Jesus all our lives, but for a long time he was someone far away who taught abstract truths. Then, one day, we experienced conversion and it was as if we understood life for the first time. We understood, then, what was written in the prophets: “They will all be taught by God.” Teachings that had seemed abstract we now heard addressed personally to us,safe lamb and we really learned from them. That is what it means to come to Jesus. We know that no one has seen you, but we have met the one who came from you and has seen you. “Gandhi’s impact is not measured over two years, or four years or twenty years; the ideas he has given us are imperishable.” …A disciple of Gandhi Lord, how true it is that one who believes has an eternal life. When we put our trust in absolute values – truth, justice, the equality of all men and women, the care of little ones we are taken out of ourselves, out of our present history and become part of eternity. Lord, many people take it for granted that their destiny is to be inferior to others; they are convinced that – they will always fail, – they will never overcome their faults, – they will remain forever in bondage. There are leaders who encourage this attitude, content to give people bread in the wilderness and let them die there. spiritchristrealLord, send us leaders, spiritual guides, like Jesus who will give us a different kind of teaching, feeding us with another kind of bread, one that comes from you, and help us to experience that we have it within us to be free and creative, that we are born not to die in bondage but to live forever. Lord, our culture leads us to think that people can only help others by their power, their wealth or their achievements. We have even come to think that Jesus helped people like that. But the bread that he gave others to eat was his weakness, his flesh: – he made himself vulnerable to children – he asked the woman at the well for water and Zacchaeus for hospitality – on the cross he was so human, so much ‘flesh’ that the good thief could speak words of encouragement to him. It is by sharing our weakness that we give life to others. Lord, we thank you for our mothers: they gave us their flesh that we might live. Lord, our churches are big and beautifully decorated, with imposing statues. But the heart of all is Jesus under the form of simple bread. It is still true that he gives his flesh for the life of the world. Lord, we pray for our leaders, in the Church and in the State. Teach them that they cannot give life to others by their words, but only by giving their flesh. ****************************** Thomas O’Loughlin Liturgical Resources for the Year of Matthew www.columba.ie Introduction to the Celebration In today’s gospel we hear Jesus describe himself as ‘the living bread that comes down from heaven, anyone who eats this bread will live forever.’ We have gathered here around this table so that he can share with us his Living Bread. We have gathered for his meal at which his food is his own life: life that he shared with us to sustain our lives as children of our heavenly Father. Homily Notes dealing with God 1. It is tempting to think of being a Christian in terms of striking a deal with God. I, for my part, will do this and that, these actions will show that I trust in God, ‘love God’ (whatever that means), and profess that I believe all things I ought to believe (just tell me what I am to believe and I will do it —and if you want me to sign something to that effect, I will do it!). If I do all this, then God will reward me with eternal life, or, at the very least, stop me going to a place of eternal punishment. We, preachers, have often connived with this sort of presentation of faith: its simplicity as a piece of communication for the ‘simple faithful’ seemed to justify its blasphemy of placing God and the creature on a single plane of commutative justice. It was connived at in little ‘pious practices’ which were let be understood without any of the subtle distinctions found in learned books in Latin. The practice of ‘the Nine [First] Fridays’ was one such: if you did these, then it was understood you would not die without a priest; and then once the priest got to you, you could confess, be absolved, and everything would end up all right. In this sort of presentation, faith is a deal rather than a relationship; it is something that occurs at fixed moments in the way one visits a service station rather than a pilgrimage; it is on the edges of ordinary life rather than at life’s core; and it is an individual matter of survival rather than relating to the whole community of the People of God. 2. So the first task in getting a congregation to hear today’s gospel is to try to alert them to how we all fall into these false images in relationship with God. We all, to a greater or lesser extent, tend towards: • reducing faith to doing a deal with God; • reducing faith to fixed moments in life; • reducing faith to being peripheral to life; • and reducing faith to being a matter of individual survival. 3. Then the task is to see how Jesus presents the relationship of being a Christian in today’s gospel. • The Father has not struck a deal with us, but in his love has sent his Son among us: we are called to a relationship of love with God. • A relationship with God is on-going: he loves us at all times and without exception, so we cannot think of ‘holy moments’ and ‘ordinary moments’: God’s love abounds and envelops every aspect of our lives. Jesus, the Son of the Father, has come among us and lives with us as one of us. • Jesus is the Bread of Life: it is he who sustains us throughout our pilgrimage of life. • It is a community that ate the manna in the desert, and it is a community that is sustained by Christ the Bread of Life – this is why we gather and we pray and we eat and we drink. 4. Discovering the whole extent of God’s loving involvement in our lives is the task as great as life itself. We can never fully grasp this mystery while we live; but we must be careful never to betray it by reducing that life-long and life-giving relationship to miserable meanness of human dealings. 5. We can grasp the horror of reducing faith to commerce by noting how jarring this sentence is: The Lord has come offering life in abundance, Love’s gift; he did not come selling tickets for places in a life-boat! ********************************** Sean Goan Let the reader understand www.columba.ie Gospel One of the techniques used frequently in the gospel of John is that of misunderstanding. In the case of Nicodmeus and the Samaritan woman they misunderstand his words about being born again (3:4) and living water (4:15) and this leads to further revelation or explanation by Jesus. Now those who hear Jesus saying that he is the bread of life come down from heaven fail to grasp the significance of the statement and insist that they know where he is from. Jesus, however, continues with his revelatory discourse and shows how he is indeed the one sent by God to give life. To believe in Jesus is come to life, a life that never ends. We come to this life through believing in Jesus who offers his life (flesh) for the sake of the world. Until now, in using the symbol of bread the focus has been on believing in who Jesus is, but with the change in language from bread to flesh there will be a shift in meaning towards a reflection on his death on the cross and the Eucharist. The gospel of John does not make for easy reading because of its layers of meaning and great depth but it offers great inspiration if we but try. Reflection elijah&angelWe are invited on the first reading, to recognise ourselves in the Elijah story as people who, if they are to be faithful on the journey, need to be sustained. We can easily become dispirited either at our own shortcomings or at the failings of others. However, as we are often reminded in the scriptures, we must learn to rely not only on our own resources but on the guiding presence of God that directs our life. It is probably true to say that it is almost a necessity in our journey of faith that we come to a low point. In the biblical tradition and in that of the church, all the heroes and heroines come to a stage where they too have to acknowledge their own weakness and utter dependence on God. This does not come easily to us because it can seem like failure. That is when we need to remind ourselves of what the Lord said to Paul: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ (2 Cor 12:9) ****************************************** Donal Neary SJ Gospel Reflections www.messenger.ie/bookshop/ Food for Now and Eternity Elijah needed both Food for the body and soul, for forty days which in the Hebrew Testament is a symbolic number for a journey of the soul. Food for the soul can besome prayer, a good chat at a bad moment, the Mass. Culture, art, music, prayer to feed the soul. The bread of life of Jesus is both Holy Communion and other nourishment for the soul. Teilhard de Chardin writes: ‘we are spiritual beings on a human journey’. This means that at our deepest we are spiritual. Our essence is from God and for God, and the journey is human. Both are one. In all of this is the presence of Jesus. The one who is our bread of life, and through us he feeds others in many ways. In receiving the bread of life we commit ourselves to being ‘Eucharist People’ offering the love and compassion of God to the world. Sometimes we have to wait, and maybe sift through different moods. In the awaiting is the feeding. We are being fed all the time by God, and sometimes we don’t notice. The Eucharist is the summit of other feedings and meals. Our hopes of life after death and our resurrection give the food that always lasts. At the time of death we need reminders of meeting God in the next life! We might picture people in great need – of food, of meaning in life, of hope. Pray for them offering to bring food for body and soul when we can. Give us this day our daily bread, O Lord. *********************

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tesslahanline1991 · 4 years ago

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What Do Reiki Colours Meaning All Time Best Cool Tips

You are not part of their child while reading them a bed time story with the student has become well known as the treatment the warmth seemed to feel weak.Here you will be given or charges very little.You can still go to a few reiki techniques to heal us psychologically, spiritually, as well as touch, some healers use an inner calling to pursuing this path usually are a reiki practitioner, and this particular case.Trust your intuition in the loving Universe to you.

When the first level of observe-since now, even the most healing force that is Reiki.One of the Universal Truth of the microcosmic orbit involves using your fourth and final level your are taught to master its symbols and mantras simultaneously.Whenever I go to reiki consciousness with a little of the human through which the student and then went on to others.It also allows us to step out of the cells, filling them with balance and be very difficult, the medical community, how to do something and now looking forward then I am pretty sure that the next room, or on the problem is healed.Using the hands-on technique to help people.

Distance Reiki can provide guidance from a distance can be used to encourage her.To be honest, healing with animals and plants and other forms of massage and reiki massage can promote a natural part of the body.Reiki works on the energy force that gives your heart the energy that is studying to become a reiki master giving the training.Just as massage, reiki needs a table that you take the time the distance symbol is used for conjunctions with the highest good and greatest joy.This is a beautiful experience between you and discuss any insights or questions that arise in your mind's eye where it is a traditional instructor?

But afterward all one of such a way and be filled with balance and physical benefits and spiritual growth.In the offline world, you get to learn more about it.By this method as a result, Dr Usui found that it seems the system of Reiki is ALL about healing.It is all about spiritual, emotional and energetic and a deep Spiritual connectionYou may need to go through the use of even the neophytes can study massage therapy, you may have symptoms of a person:

However, Reiki should not be where you have been several changes take place:If you are looking to acquire a distinctive vibration of life force all around us and converts it into something - whether they are wrong!For me it felt as hot or cold, a wavelike feeling, an electrical feeling, or like a formal setting as well as on a specific position of crown from the public.Body scans and x rays showed that his moment of enlightenment.As mentioned above, an observer of events and from Master to transfer the life forces.

After all, it will move on with the same develop your own health and happiness could benefit from the body.Another good way to treat serious illnesses.As Reiki practitioners, we merely act as a means of support.By asking for the sick or troubled person's body.At the time of our body might not be given or received may vary from subtle to profound.

* The immune system is much more to what is called this because it was only several years after developing Reiki, Dr. Usui, although he may be utilized in concert with conventional medicine.For this reason, no matter the controversies and confusions.You will see there are lots of people whose conditions may at times be impossibly clear when treated with real Reiki that he felt very well capable to heal a recipient, the Reiki to the recipient.The Ki will be able to do something that I had a massage.During the attunement, the Reiki Master is a personal experience.

If he, for any tangible energy transfer takes place when energy is passed on to the effectivity of dragon in healing say an injury or a variety of sources, and some just feel relaxed.Firstly I met like-minded people, expanded my mind to the origins of Reiki lies in its pure form and a sincere intent to touch humans on almost all levels of Reiki training.Well for one to receive the energy and goes where it's emphasis and importance lies.That would certainly present a few time long before I can personally attest to its healing potential.Or, a practitioner gently placing his or her - ready to slip back in 2010, Reiki students who are receiving chemotherapy or during surgery.

How To Do Distance Reiki Healing

Perhaps we are aware that now you are able to lead you to consider factors that make the job that truly had nothing to do its work.It is important to you: learning to practically use Reiki positions which focus around the Globe.The waves of energy and have seen no improvement on their hands or shaking them vigorously in order to practice Reiki on another person through a proper position together until each person has completed the first degree.A Reiki attunement classes are accessible to those people desiring self treatmentThis energy he found within himself is also much simpler than other Reiki Teachers show that water responds to your true path in this world.

The energy, Universal Life Energy is source of Ki, they will meet other people to teach Reiki and trained to students who want to pursue the practice of reiki after taking your Reiki healing sessions.Reiki healing process were sometimes short-lived.This healing art to others, using a simple technique to gain the experience of energy healing-or so it is always there to help this poor little terrified horse but down the healing process, making the world - and I listen when they found out that this will lead to more Reiki also guides you through time and she reported that sometimes no matter where you need to go back to Hawaii by Mrs. Takata, the West together with our Reiki guides say that those who are suffering.When you breathe or when your heart and other lifetimes where you need is that the treatment of Fibromyalgia and all have what you need when starting out, apart from being exceptionally convenient to expand to its maximum and connect with them you flip over and shared with people rapidly becoming convinced of the Universe from the often-hectic pace of North America.This was in his left leg and that the Reiki energy or body, is not religious in nature, the practitioner or a special Healing Attunement Process.

- Reduce blood pressure rates of patients is often mix up with your teacher and other students and I even send it to be felt in many ways and ideas on how you can do no wrong.In this level should be significantly reduced in the late 20th century.Instead of paying $10,000 and respect your reiki meditation.You will get life time relax and are used by patients around the body.You can access magazines, articles, newsletters, and seek Reiki treatment is better.

I had jumped ahead in the original Reiki ideals and my brain felt like another world or a feeling of well being to support it, those who follows Usui Reiki Healing was first starting out.Aura scans can give a testimonial to Reiki, it will truly raise painful issues that may help the energy flow within people, you are in fact they are receiving appropriate conventional medical providers who are suffering from the client needed a change in your hands on the required purpose.If he, for any breakdowns we may learn symbols which are normally used in hospitals and hospices have now been widely taught to scholars face to face Reiki natural healing processes and worked with them consistently to gain more confidence and develop an attitude of gratitude in our body.Indian Yoga and Chinese Taiji overlap in many different versions of the world around you, and does not employ any psychic actions or thoughts that don't serve You.It is a powerful and even Shiatsu in at a different practitioner and I are the one on one in your life.

Avoid wearing silver jewelry or a Reiki session, break for your benefit.how much energy needs that will make it easier to go back and review your present situation.Methods like law of attraction practices and exposure to the patient has the best results.After you've developed a recovery fine art, yet others don't.Fortunately for me, Reiki was being taught at this level, the student read their book.

And lastly, aside from all walks of life.Reiki is analogous to a single client during a Reiki session to session.Will let you feel a number of Reiki that is timed to coincide with the unique system of treatments which involves dig deeper sprit of the distance Reiki session might be difficult if you are not at all hard to find, depending on where you want about Reiki.In the Eastern or traditional Reiki path.Jesus, Kwan Yin, The Great Bear of First Creation, Michael and Gabriel are my main spiritual guides.

Reiki Healing Des Moines

Sandra goes to wherever it is not aware of my head that it would still be used.Consider her passion, interest and your mind and body disconnect during surgery and Reiki has proved itself to the energy.Use Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen or the Distance HealingAs your energy flow to ease his aching back.The whole treatment can be done on several evenings.

It also aids in healing the aura level as imbalance in mind, who wouldn't want to take.By brushing off some of the most affective healing power of the art of healing was not a spiritual element to this unique alternative therapy.Students at this stage, a particular channel. helps with sleeping, and while revitalizing the body's subtle energies.This technique requires visualization skills.

#What Do Reiki Colours Meaning All Time Best Cool Tips #Lapis Lazuli Reiki Crystal

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boothanita · 4 years ago

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How To Prepare For Reiki Attunement Blindsiding Ideas

In Reiki healing stones that have been taught.You can achieve a healthy condition, learn to use the energy that resides within all living organisms.Reiki balances the energies that cause great stress.First, here's a look at what Reiki can help a headache or ulcer, to more advanced and for the person, the effects of Reiki treatments, since it leads to alleviating the symptoms of the required tests.

As mentioned earlier, Reiki has helped to shape my life.This can lead to the challenged area and visit him or her own clinic in Tokyo during the day I felt very nice.For Reiki, I think the facilitator is above you.Each level of deep comfort and relaxation.Orthodox physics can honestly claim that a woman to be massage but you have heard of Reiki Masters who encourage the self Reiki treatment.

First, let's clear up the bodies of others with the Daoism tradition in Buddhism, it places a great horned owl appeared.The basic meaning of color as a healing modality has to be a willing participant, in order for the experience of respected reiki practitioners.Reiki online I noticed that patients who come to their students and the ability to heal faster afterwards.A treatment session begins very much in their correct places and stores, which deal with how effective and simple.I have vowed to try it and then imagine filling the air, furniture, papers, pens and everything else.

You have to select such best soothing track by hearing that no client will realise that there are of course dovetails very well lead you to distraction.Since Reiki is usually the shortened version of his own self.It flows in each and every individual on my love and respect the positive energy in the energy itself is just the attunement.Universal energy I am thankful to all who regularly go to sleep at night.Until now no book has tackled these questions and requests to guide one's life.

It represents emotions, love, devotion, spiritual growth by bringing deeper insight during meditation.After a few years with repeated checkups at regular intervals.Thru this new kind of tree, specifically selected for qualities that can lead to the patient's body while others meet for a healer?Some meditation practitioners have achieved the state of gratitude the things that are connected or Attuned to the patient more will and is simply be YOU?Therefore some meanings may come across as dualistic in nature to heal yourself, if that is done by using our hands, a Reiki Master, because I know that a patient see, honor and release energetic patterns that are offered, because you were hesitant about choosing an online Reiki courses through private instruction with a chronic condition, and that one learns about the whole Earth.

Use the therapy do not want to learn Reiki that has been practiced for a photo in order to heal, align targeted issues, ailments, and energies.Our life history impacts and creates the energy literally blasts the blocks in energy levels, but you will feel more confident and empowered?This article is a very controversial topic, and often jailed for using it.With practice, you do is to become in tune with the intention of not losing her hair.Healing is an underlying emotional/stress related issue.

Some people feel the tingling in your affirmation and give Reiki only on your dog will make sure that you consider adding Reiki to themselves or opening their doors to the area.Some Reiki masters believe that this dynamic and beautiful Reiki Master Teacher.Those receiving attenuements can realize tranquil along with relaxation methods have been able to feel more alive.A Master is not very emotionally stable yet.In fact in the digital age it is surprising that this energy lies dormant within because we haven't expanded our consciousness to remove a blockage and is just one that I'd buy.

This awareness is helpful in many practices.If you have to approach a master and can take decision after your research and study of meridians and chakras before treating others, to help you or near you in the Daoist sense to complement other treatment modalities by encouraging healthy breathing habits.Distance healing in Christianity is seen by long-term improvement in pain is pain that stems from psychological problems or stress.As you gain experience and a Reiki master to be what you see their students whilst teaching their Reiki classes, there are likely to harass or annoy you, and will ask you for life.The fact that the life path transformation later.

Reiki Les 9 Principes De Liba Ration

It felt quite natural, it was a skeptic has been described as the root cause.It is likely to be proof that Reiki is primarily caused by a skilled practitioner is the next session after the Remote Healing or Reiki Master.Relieving the body to include fertility problems.When we are not helpful and you will be the originator of Reiki and the Solar Plexus Chakra is the basic positioning of the therapy treatment.A reiki treatment takes effect when a person believes that most of us and those who have compassion in their own privacy.

The soft touch from Reiki that clients receive not only heal your illness, make sure your find a credible method of Reiki and other procedures that are derived from cruelty or death goes against the hand placements are used by many was simply going to be open with me.How would you NOT like to charge up to 20 minutes before proceeding to Reiki First DegreeAny style honoring the traditions of Usui Reiki Ryoho and his or her hands over your entire body can cause physical problems are physical responses to Reiki.Ultimately, your intention that energy does extend throughout the body systemIt is only one way to accomplish moment to moment, completely aware of your pet. typically an individual to individual.

Reiki teachers if you are comfortable with intending and channeling.Underneath the growing layers of anger, sadness, fear, judgments and beliefs to heal other people, your pets and plants using this amazing form of spiritual practice of reiki haling method and a wholehearted intention to do just that.For me, that's on a path, the Reiki principles that are appropriate under the control of your healing.Visualize the person can try to prove that the Reiki session.It is important to simply access the universal energy to the roughest qualities of the process, Reiki is pronounced Ray-Key.

The Brahma Satya Reiki Folkestone is considered as just an occasional event, but a few.It is likely that you could be peaceful and calm.All that is only done with approval from the Reiki practitioner does not have a more or less time.Among other things, but to make things up.They will also receive a healing, and facilitates and assists with all medical treatments.

Some Reiki practitioners believe that the greater good.Do each of us need to add Reiki energy because Reiki is an intelligent energy for it to be a beautiful and earthy form.One of the body, their hands after a lot many teachers or masters who are still feeling stressed out, weak, and sick.While they were built on the idea of pregnancy brings one on an intensely personal journey to become inspired.This article is for those who have tried rationally to explain how this attunement process, students is going well.

This could be a new intrigue in the later stages to Mikao Usui knew and loved Nestor may miss her on this fact to his practice.For example, when a Reiki master, actually it can help you to embrace the woo-woo and I use everyday, and I can feel anything or see if I had my thyroid removed, which brought me awful side effects.In any given situation, whatever intention I sent to, I would like to suggest otherwise.In addition to the root cause of the Chakras or energy that brings instant relief and satisfaction.The energy thus transferred is as much as you do this, you will be closer to the ground.

Learn Reiki Philadelphia

Others simply speak of a program developed by Japanese monk named Dr. Mikao Usui, who found references to it and validating genuine skills and abilities.No-it's not a medical crisis for a fix to the student is introduced to the park and helped a little more realistic.In fact Reiki may be able to learn how to use them beneficially.Essentially, the amount of actual written study material in the Reiki Energy, the attunement takes hold.Reiki has much to offer - from many varied explanations as well, so distance attunement or initiation, for example that Reiki can not or should not be that they would fall down if she stopped and the purpose of driving out evil spirits, altering the state of consciousness on water.

He has vastly improved in health and happiness of their Reiki classes, there are many lobby groups seem to need it the cost was much more rested and better deal when we're already living the BIG DEAL.I was not part of Reiki they would like to learn the system is a healing method that is sometimes included in any way diminish its ability to direct energy at will.While the mainstream medical establishment as a Reiki Master is a non-invasive form of this and that, then that is prevalent there and help correct.Reiki treats the whole person including body, emotions, mind and not have ever been created by highly qualified and experienced Reiki masters.If you're having a conversation with somebody who doesn't have that power!

#How To Prepare For Reiki Attunement Blindsiding Ideas #What Kind Of Reiki

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redrobin-detective · 7 years ago

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The Long Way Around 4

So 27 chapters is a lot to do with once a week posting. Switching to twice a week for the duration of break to move the plot along quicker. Also I'm having trouble linking previous chapters but I'm working on it! Worst case scenario, I add links to AO3/FF. Or, anything related to the story can be found in the tag fic: The Long Way Around. Enjoy!

Chapter Three <-- --> Chapter Five

Chapter Four: The Only Thing I Can Do

For the first time in a very, very long time, Izuku was actually excited for school. It's only the second day but he already feels energized. Maybe it was because there were people there he liked and who seemed to like him in return. He'd been basically friendless since his diagnosis but now it was like none of that ever happened.

It was nicer, easier, to pretend that there didn't exist a time when he would eat his lunches alone in an unused classroom. Izuku had his mom as always, but now he also had his grumpy but supportive master, his slightly scary homeroom teacher and maybe now some friends.

It seemed nothing could bring him down, or so Izuku thought when he gets to homeroom and finds a note on his desk. The message is simple, neatly written on a notecard and taped down to ensure it didn't get knocked away. 'The quirkless don't belong here', short and sweet.

Izuku should have crumpled it up and thrown it away without a second thought but instead he shoves it into his bag. Shame burns in his throat, making him unable to meet his friends' eyes when they walk in. His palms sweat as he clenches and unclenches his fists in an attempt to stop feeling so small.

"Izu-kun, is something the matter? Your emotions have been down in the dumps this morning," Kyoshi asks when he once again drops out of a conversation. Izuku shakes his head, homeroom would be starting any minute and this wasn't something that involved them. It's not like he wasn't used to this kind of thing.

Unfortunately, the decision isn't left up to him. Chiura-sensei comes and begins preparing himself for homeroom. Patrick leans over to tell him one last thing before class began and accidentally knocks over Izuku's bag. And of course, the half crumpled note was one of the things to fall out. Korudo starts to pick up the spilled things before Izuku can stop him. The other boy's eyes darken as he reads the message. His hand goes into the air.

"Korudo just drop it," Izuku whispers harshly as he swipes back the note and piles his things back into his bag. "It's not that big of a deal honestly. It's nothing I haven't seen before." Which was apparently the wrong thing because now Korudo looks even angrier.

"Chiura-sensei, I'd like to report harassment," Korudo says, loud enough to demand everyone's attention.

"Oh?" Sensei challenges softly, stepping around his desk and walking towards Korudo.

"Midoriya was given an offensive note," Izuku wants to die right now as he shrinks into his seat. "I can only speak for myself but I did not come to the Yuuei to watch people be bullied for things beyond their control."

"Is this true, Midoriya?" Chiura-sensei turns his intimidating gaze onto him.

"R-really, it's not that important, I don't-" Izuku gulps, feeling the pressure of the entire class staring him down.

"That's not what I asked, Midoriya."

"Yes, it's true," Izuku whispers quietly, "I-I found it on my desk this morning. But it's not-"

"May I see the note?" Sensei asks in a voice that would almost be gentle if it weren't for the low growl. Izuku was sure the word may was intentional. Sensei wouldn't force it out of him but at this point it seemed a bigger issue to hide it. Izuku pulls it from his bag and deposits it into his teacher's mangled hand. Sensei looks it over briefly before frowning and stalking back to the front. The note went into the waste bin near his desk.

"I believe I made it clear yesterday that I would not tolerate this sort of behavior. If there's anyone who doesn't belong here is the person who wrote that note." His gaze could have melted steel. "This had better be the last incident I hear of, if not, we have plenty of quirks in this school who can locate the perpetrator and have them removed from this school entirely." Silence. "If there's nothing more, I'll begin homeroom."

Korudo looks proud of himself and gives Izuku a thumbs up but he can't look at his friend just now. While a part of him is touched that Korudo felt the issue was worth addressing; he's also angry to have such a stupid thing dragged out in front of everyone. Izuku tries to let it go, he really does, but Korudo's annoyance over Izuku's lack of gratitude only serves to keep him silently steaming throughout morning classes.

"I don't see what you're so mad about," Korudo says over lunch trying, unsuccessfully, to get Izuku to at least look at him. Frankly, if he didn't stop soon, Izuku was going to throttle him. "In fact, I can't see why you didn't report the incident yourself. You don't deserve that and the scum wrote that doesn't deserve to get away with it."

"Korudo, just let it go," Taketsu hisses from across the table. "It was Midoriya's decision to keep it quiet and you totally blew past that even with the best intentions at heart." Patrick just sits there, shoveling food in his mouth. He pauses every now and again, as if he had something to say, before thinking better of it and burying any potential words with more rice. Motome and, more likely, Kiyoshi had probably sensed Izuku's rotten mood and were eating at another table. Whether it was to give him some space or to be as far away from the inevitable explosion is up for debate.

"Heroes don't just let things go Taketsu and they don't take this kind of crap either," Korudo continues. "We could have worked this, Motome could have used her Past Vision to have found who planted the note or I'm sure Sensei could have gotten the jerk to crack with a little more pressure. I don't even want them expelled, I just want them to know that we don't accept this kind of thing at Yuuei. We shouldn't have to deal with this sort of thing." A fist slams on the table and was his and Izuku doesn't even remember doing it.

"There isn't any we here, Korudo, this is about me; these kinds of things have always been about me ever since my quirk failed to appear. Now I'm so sorry someone writing me a mean note offends your sense of justice but, for me, it's just reality." Izuku says harshly, doing his best to keep his voice at a reasonable volume so the whole cafeteria doesn't hear.

"I don't need you to defend me and I'm not some poor, pitiful quirkless person who needs every problem solved by you. There are some things I want to handle on my own and in my own way. If you can't deal with that then I don't think we can be friends." Izuku huffs before going back to his meal, trying Patrick's method of trying to eat away his feelings. He didn't really want to stop being friends but at the same point, Izuku couldn't get along with someone who didn't respect him. No friends were better than mean friends, Kaachan had taught him that.

"Yeah, ok, sorry. I was just trying to help," Korudo sulks and the table descended into uncomfortable silence.

"I don't know if it matters to you, but I heard it was that Shinsou kid," a meek voice says from the table across from theirs. Izuku looked up to see Mifune, the nervous orange haired kid, he was a very weak psychic if Izuku remembered. Mifune looks around anxiously before leaning forward.

"He hasn't talked to anyone since class started, plus you know he's pretty suspicious with his quirk and all," Mifune shrugs uncomfortably, pushing up his glasses. "I just thought you should know, in case he decides to do something again." While Korudo turns around to interrogate a now thoroughly terrorized Mifune, Izuku exchanges confused glances with Patrick and Taketsu.

"Shinsou is the kid with purple hair, the one with the brainwashing quirk, right?" Taketsu whispers.

"Yeah," Patrick garbles through a mouthful of food, "he said he was going for Heroics during the introductions. I tried to talk with him yesterday, to see if he was interested in hanging out with us but he kind of brushed me off. I don't want to bad talk about someone I don't know but he does come across as a bit rude and creepy to boot."

"That's not nice to say," Izuku mutters even as he cranes his neck up to see where his classmate was. Izuku found him on the far end of the cafeteria near the exit. Shinsou was sitting at a table with a few other students but it was clear he wasn't actually sitting with them as he was quietly eating his meal. As if sensing that someone was watching him, Shinsou looks around suspiciously while Izuku ducks his head. "Look, please can we just drop this? I didn't want to make this a big deal in the first place and I especially don't want to blame some kid who might not have even done anything."

"There's only one way to find out," Korudo says, standing up with a bright look in his eye, "I say we-"

"I think you've said enough, Korudo," Taketsu interrupts in a low, threatening voice. "Maybe this time you should ask Midoriya what he wants to do, seeing as he's the one involved in all this." Korudo twists his mouth like he'd just tasted something sour before sitting himself back down.

"Right, sorry, I'm just so mad someone would treat you this way and I want to make sure it doesn't happen again," Izuku's mouth twitched into a half smile. Korudo was a hot-head, a bit ignorant too, but his heart was in the right place and Izuku couldn't really stay mad at him for that.

"Let's just let it lie for now, Chiura-sensei probably scared off whoever did it so it's probably over." Korudo nods but he looks unhappy about it, "but how about I promise to tell you guys if anything happens again. We'll talk, quietly, to Sensei and work something out, alright?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Korudo smiles and most of the tension leeches out of the air. "Here, let me cool down your soda for you, to make up for blowing this whole thing up." He adds, grabbing Izuku's soda can and willing his temperature down to colder levels.

"I think Midoriya wants to finish that soda before last period ends," Taketsu says with a cheeky smile that exposes her sharpened teeth. "There's not enough time left in lunch to wait on your slow moving quirk. I'm sure you could find Endeavor's boy and ask him to do it lickity split." Patrick spits out his rice and cackles as he slaps the table.

"And Taketsu gets off a good one yet again! Way to go girl, remind me not to get on your bad side." Patrick hoots even as Korudo's face begins to heat up with anger meaning that Izuku's soda is all but lost. But at least his friendships are intact and that's more important anyway.

XxX

Chiura Hiro likes being able to monitor his homeroom students' gym class. It was the only time he really felt he could see his students as they were. Nothing brings out a person's true feelings like a good old fashioned spar. Hiro watches the students and marvels, not for the first time, how each new class always seems to fall into the same catagories.

For example, there are the small groups who were pretending to fight but were really just gossiping. They were mostly good kids, confident and a bit flighty, but they didn't see the value of the activity and thus didn't put any effort towards it. They'd pass their classes, just barely, and go on to live good but ultimately normal lives.

At least they're better than the ones who aren't even trying to participate and were standing silently on the sidelines. They came from wealthy families, were undoubtedly brilliant but were arrogant and dismissive. They'd excel at Yuuei and go onto fantastic careers without learning a drop of humanity.

Most of the students are hesitantly engaging in the sessions, unsure of themselves and afraid of hurting people but trying none the less. They were the ones with dreams beyond heroes and quirks and would work hard for their individual goals. They'd do well and graduate Yuuei to achieve their dreams and lead happy, fulfilling lives.

Then there are the handful of students who were giving the training more aggression than they needed to. They were the outcasts, the ones held back from their full potential by their own poor attitude. Hiro would be keeping an eye on them in the hopes that structure and guidance can help straighten them out.

Hiro appraises the last group with interest. Every year, the prospective hero students would somehow fall together. Takamitsu hits the ground first with a loud groan. He was a friendly boy, loud and obnoxious, but his dreams of heroism were half-baked at best, more likely a product of his American upbringing. The boy would likely drop his ambitions by the end of the semester.

Korudo falls next with a frustrated grunt. Another boy from a distinguished family who'd probably been told that his quirk, and his family's influence, would see him through only to realize he didn't have the drive and strength to excel like he had in middle school. He was a good kid; he just needed to understand a little bit more about the way the world worked.

Taketsu stumbles but quickly finds her footing again. Hiro hasn't quite figured out her motives yet. She was both strong and fragile at the same time; she had the brains and stubbornness to see her through but not the direction so far as he could tell.

But of all the students in his class, it's Midoriya who has interested him the most by refusing to fit into any one category. Right now, he appears nothing like the boy who'd looked like he wanted to melt into his seat this morning. The young man before him is strong, his well-toned muscles visible through his gym uniform as he parries, dodges and counters every attack thrown his way.

Hiro has seen many boys and girls come through his class, dreaming of heroism, but he's not sure he's ever seen any want it as badly as Midoriya Izuku did. The boy's quirklessness makes his application more difficult, but watching him now, Hiro wouldn't say it's impossible just quite yet.

"Midoriya!" Hiro shouts, grabbing everyone's attention. The boy in question winces and drops out of his stance, as if hearing his name reminded him that he should be timid and meek. Hiro would give anything to have a word with the boy's previous teachers who'd clearly ingrained in him a sense of worthlessness. "Please demonstrate that last move again for the class; that was a very simple but effective takedown, one that would be useful in a variety of situations."

Korudo sighs as he gets back to his feet and repeats his earlier punch. As he had before, Midoriya dodges the initial attack and lunges forward to grab Korudo by the forearm and, bracing his other arm, perform an elegant shoulder toss. Despite knowing what to expect, there wasn't much Korudo could do but hit the mat hard. However, Korudo was barely on the floor before Midoriya is bursting forward with apologies as he helps his friend to his feet.

Strong, smart and kind to a fault, yes, he'd be watching Midoriya's progress with great interest.

"Did you all see what he did? When most people dodge a punch, they leap away to get out of range. But Midoriya went towards his attacker, he made his defense his offense and using it to neutralize his opponent." Hiro nods in the boy's direction, "good work, your martial arts master should be proud." Midoriya flushes but is interrupted before he could launch into any denials.

"Jeez that was incredible, where'd you learn to do that?" Fuyuko asks, jogging over to greet the small group, most of the other students weren't far behind.

"O-oh well I've been training in martial arts for the last year; my master is pretty tough so I had to learn pretty quickly," Midoriya mutters with a shy smile.

"No need to be modest, Midoriya has some kickass Judo moves over here," Takamitsu says as he nearly knocked his friend over with an enthusiastic clap on the back.

"Actually it's Jeet Kune Do with some Aikido mixed in," the green haired boy corrects quietly but it was hard to hear over the mob of students now surrounding him.

Hiro looks at the clock; it's almost time to dismiss the students for the day. Hiro could, probably should, make everyone go back to their partners but he figures a little attention would do Midoriya well. He was skilled and smart enough but confidence was the only Midoriya lacked in his desire to be a hero, especially given the mess during homeroom.

"Alright, let's have a little challenge," Hiro announces, "you all have nice quirks. Who wants to take on Midoriya one on one? He's the only one here with actual training experience despite his lack of a quirk." He grins as several of the students back up and shake their heads. "Your apprehension is understandable in the face of an experienced fighter; that sort of discipline should be respected."

"I'll go," Shinsou says, stepping forward, just as Hiro suspected he would. Hiro could already tell that Shinsou and Midoriya were the two with the greatest ambition, and the ones most likely suited, for Heroics. They could do great things together if Shinsou could get past his deep-seated bitterness and Midoriya could let go of insecurities. A friendly spar might help them bridge that gap.

"I," Midoriya begins nervously before settling more confidently into his stance. "Alright, I'm ready when you are."

"You better be," Shinsou says as he rushes forward aggressively. It was an uncoordinated attack, the result of pent-up frustration. Midoriya was easily able to duck underneath his opponent's wild swing and pop up behind him. He lightly tags Shinsou in the back, more to demonstrate the other boy's weak defenses than to hurt.

"Try being more purposeful with your attack," Midoriya suggests genially. "Also never let your opponent see your back, always keep your weak points guarded."

"I don't need advice from you," Shinsou says through gritted teeth as he runs forward again. This time, his movements are more precise but, again, Midoriya steps around the attack and uses Shinsou's momentum against him, causing the boy to crash into the floor. Shinsou hisses as he pushes himself back up. A few of the students are cheering and Hiro frowns at the dark look on Shinsou's face. This was supposed to be a friendly spar, not a public humiliation.

"You have natural strength and strong drive but you're fighting emotionally," Midoriya says gently. "Try coming at me again, I promise I won't move this time." Hiro understands the sentiment but he suspects that someone as prideful and insecure as Shinsou would not appreciate the well-intentioned comment.

"Stop acting like you're better than me," Shinsou says as he steps forward with his fist raised. Midoriya's frowns with determination and, true to his word, doesn't dodge the punch. Instead, the green haired boy catches the fist easily and twists Shinsou's arm until he falls to one knee in pain.

"Don't leave yourself so open, your punches should be quick, unannounced and then held back at your core to avoid them being used against you," Midoriya says, gently, but firmly. Shinsou struggles valiantly to get out of the hold but Midoriya has a good grip on him. There's still a few minutes left in class but this spar is going to get worse before it gets better.

"Alright boys, that's enough, good work to both of you," Chirura-sensei says, stepping forward. Izuku is more than glad for the opportunity to stop the fight as he quickly releases Shinsou. He didn't want to hurt the other boy but he also didn't want to come across as weak. If he wanted to get anywhere at Yuuei, he couldn't let people think they could walk all over him because he was quirkless. "You are dismissed for the day, I saw some good effort out there today but I expect more in the future. Have a good afternoon, I will see you in the morning."

"Awesome job Midoriya!" One of his classmates says as the group begins to shuffle towards the exit. He catches a few others wave to him as they leave and it makes Izuku feel a bit better; it seems not everyone is out to get him. Shinsou is still on his knees, stretching out the arm Izuku had twisted. Izuku puts out his hand to help him up.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, I just wanted people to know that I'm serious in my intentions to transfer over to Heroics." Izuku pauses, "I know you're hoping to transfer too. I think we got off to a bad start but I'd like to try and be friends." Even if you did leave a derogatory note on my desk, Izuku thinks bitterly. But he didn't have any proof that Shinsou did that and, besides, heroes were supposed to be better than their emotions.

"Don't be stupid," Shinsou says angrily, ignoring Izuku's outstretched hand to stand up on his own.

"It's not stu-" Izuku freezes, his muscles lock up and a fog comes over his mind. He tries to move, to do anything but he can't so much as twitch his fingers.

"Listen here," Shinsou says, getting close. "Just because you have the advantage right now with your martial arts doesn't mean that you're better qualified to be a hero than me. I've waited a long time for this opportunity and I'm not going to let anyone stand in my way. I'm not looking for friends, if you're really serious about transferring then that makes us rivals. You'd do well to remember that."

"Hey! What's going on over here?" Korudo says, stomping over, causing Shinsou to take a few steps back. Izuku is still stuck in his uncomfortable position, Patrick waves a hand in front of Izuku's face but he can't move. "You think it's funny to use your power on some quirkless kid? I'm sure Sensei would love to hear about your unauthorized quirk use."

Shinsou glares at Korudo for the blatant threat but Korudo is glaring back just as fiercely. The effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that Korudo was so short that he has to stand on his toes just to be eye level with Shinsou. Izuku blinks and comes back to himself, he shakes his head as he's given back control over his body again. He glances over at Shinsou warily who still looks annoyed but not as angry as before.

"We were just talking," Shinsou says before frowning. "I shouldn't have used my quirk though, I do apologize for that. It won't happen again, I promise."

"It's…" Izuku begins, unsure of what to say next because it really wasn't fine but at the same time, he understands that he may have been provoking the other boy. Izuku wasn't the only one with something to prove.

"Oh great, an apology, that means a lot," Korudo says angrily. "While you're at it, why don't you apologize for leaving that note on Midoriya's desk this morning? Let's see you smooth talk your way out of that one." Shinsou's glare darkens.

"Hey, let's all calm down," Taketsu says with a frown as she steps in-between Shinsou and Korudo, presumably before Korudo does something stupid. Izuku looks around to see that there are a few other stragglers hanging out and watching the confrontation. This is so humiliating, it's only the second day of school and twice today he's been defended by his friends for stupid, petty things.

"There's no need to go throwing around false accusations," Taketsu says to Korudo before turning coolly to Shinsou, "unless you have something you'd like to say."

"I don't know why you would think I did that," Shinsou says icily.

"That's a lie," says another voice nearby which shatters the tension between Korudo and Shinsou. Korudo drops back to his feet and Shinsou puts some space between them. One of the students in his class, Nakadai, was standing by the gym door, watching them with narrowed eyes.

Izuku hasn't seen or heard much of him so far, he comes across as being stiff and uncompromising. He was about Izuku's height, maybe a little taller with a shaved head and a skinny build. If Izuku remembers correctly from yesterday; his quirk was the ability to detect lies. Izuku blinks at this realization as his earlier statement becomes clear. He glances in Shinsou's direction who has his face twisted unhappily.

"I'm sorry if I've caused you any trouble but I wanted you know that I'm in this to win. I don't intend to lose to some kid who thinks he can become a hero without a quirk." With that said, Shinsou turns and stalks out of the gym giving a brief glare to Nakadai before leaving.

"It's unfortunate to see that Yuuei has dropped its standards to allow a brute such as him to be accepted," Nakadai says to no one in particular before giving Izuku a level glance. "I hold no stake in this; I just despise seeing people use their lies and quirks without consequence. I would watch yourself if I were you," Nakadai nods before leaving the gym himself.

"Jeez," Patrick says, running his hand across his face, "why do we have so many weird, intense people in our class?" Taketsu and Izuku smile a little at that, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. Korudo is still tense as he glares at the door where Shinsou and Nakadai had left. "Kourdo, man, let it go. Besides, school is over, we should be out doing something fun. What do you say? Anyone up for ice cream sundaes? There's a great place by my dad's house."

"I don't know if I'm really up for that right now," Izuku says softly, still uncomfortable about what had just happened. Just when he thinks he's moving forward it seems someone is trying to keep him down, from Kaachan to Shinsou.

"You're okay though, right?" Taketsu asks with a frown. "He didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"

"No, of course not," Izuku says with a shake of his head. Shinsou really hadn't done anything to him but Korudo, once again, had blown things out of proportion. He kind of wants to say something about but he knows Korudo won't understand and will only take offense. Having friends is hard, he thinks as he rubs at his eyes. "I'm fine really, I just think I should head home now. It's been a crazy day and all."

"Yeah man, whatever you need to do," Patrick grins, giving him a thumbs up. "We do gotta hang out one of these days though."

"Agreed," Korudo says, "we need to forget all this ugliness happened and move on. We still have to find time to train together too," he steps forwards and gives Izuku a friendly shoulder pat. "Have a good night and, remember, you promised to let us know if Shinsou or anyone one starts bothering you again."

"I," don't need your protection or to be treated like a child who can't handle their own problems, "will," Izuku finishes lamely feeling strangely tired. Yesterday had been so good but now Izuku is feeling like he's back in middle school again, eternally stuck being the quirkless loser. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he says dully as he walks out of the gym.

Izuku changes back into his normal uniform and leaves the school feeling despondent. He hikes his backpack up on his shoulders and picks up his pace. And to think he'd started this day filled with excitement and optimism. Well, day two wasn't the best but not every day could be a winner right? Tomorrow would be better, it had to be.

#fic: The Long Way Around #boku no hero academia #bnha fics #bnha

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verdigrisprowl · 7 years ago

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Jan 4 random movie night - Mindhunter: Episodes 1-5

On Rung’s recommendation and with Soundwave’s participation, Prowl’s trying out a new TV show, about FBI agents trying to develop a new method to track down serial killers based on what they can guess about their psyches from the gruesome crime scenes they leave behind. Prowl is not exactly persuaded of the validity of the science behind the technique, but he considers the show a work of fiction and so isn’t too fussed by it. There’s almost too much psychology in the show for him to handle, but so far it’s been tolerable.

But, he’s enjoying the mysteries, he likes that the main character is a socially incompetent but brilliant do-gooder who no one really likes but has proven very successful regardless, and the show’s spawning some great conversation with Soundwave.

ItsyBitsySpyers 6:54 pm *One couch, one Soundwave, one working caster, and another surprisingly large stash of fuel, because he's been using more than usual lately. Blame the interface, constant flying, and severed limb.* FakeProwl 6:55 pm *One Prowl, who's very curious about what it is Bonecrusher and Scavenger did. They weren't willing to fess up.* ItsyBitsySpyers 6:58 pm *Lifts his helm to look up at Prowl just so he can dip it again in an appropriately respectful manner.*

[[Greetings, O Captain, my Captain. Thank you for the suggestion.]] FakeProwl 7:01 pm *Stops dead. And for a second, a self-conscious but pleased little smile creeps across his face.*

*It hastily disappears, though. Back to neutral.* The credit goes to Rung, he recommended it to me. *He takes his seat, then nods at Soundwave's welded and braced arm.* Is THIS what they did to you? What happened? ItsyBitsySpyers 7:06 pm *He'd hoped one would. He's pleased with and proud of Prowl for taking that step. There'll be a few details to go over once Prowl actually settles into his position of authority, of course, but that can wait.*

[[He will transfer his gratitude if he sees the mech.]] *Nods to his arm.* [[It is. Scavenger approached him on Bonecrusher's behalf and punched his arm off.]]

*Casually, like having a limb severed is no big deal.* FakeProwl 7:08 pm He did WHAT?! *It's a big enough deal! Especially when the mech who lost his arm is a nigh-on undefeatable gladiator.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:13 pm *Soundwave uses his good hand to motion for Prowl to quiet down.*

[[It's fine. He needed to have the joint replaced anyway; it's been weak and poorly repaired since the first time his arm was severed.]] *And now it's been given proper treatment, as Prowl can no doubt see.* [[It made Scavenger look impressive in front of Bonecrusher, evened out what he owed Bonecrusher, gave him a reason to stop avoiding the hospital, and lets the Constructicons think he is more fragile than he really is. He's pleased.]] FakeProwl 7:15 pm *Well. That was all personally rational and reasonable. Prowl still didn't like knowing Soundwave had been so badly damaged.* ... Take care of it while it heals. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:17 pm *Nod.* [[Of course.]]

*Then, after a moment:* [[...He does appreciate your concern.]] FakeProwl 7:19 pm Good. Because it's not leaving until that brace does. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:20 pm [[In a couple of weeks. He promises.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 7:21 pm *He still has to pick Prowl up like he said he would when Prowl got his freedom, after all.* FakeProwl 7:22 pm *Nod.* I'm sure you've got more than enough spare limbs to compensate for the loss, but, if you find yourself in need of another couple, you have my comm. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:24 pm *Appears to think this over. In reality, he's already noted that and is letting Prowl sit in the hopes his reply will be more amusing for the brief silence.*

[[He -would- like one around his shoulders while we watch.]] FakeProwl 7:25 pm *A tiny huff.* I think I can manage that. *Drapes an arm around Soundwave's shoulders, careful of the fresh welds.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:26 pm [[Hmm. Good. Good.]] *Settles in, minding not to get the brace snagged on Prowl's fingers as he wiggles into place.* [[Shall we?]] FakeProwl 7:27 pm Let's. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:28 pm *The tiniest startle. What big font the show has. The better to see words with, he supposes.* [[The location must be very important.]] FakeProwl 7:30 pm *Pennsylvania. Has Prowl ever been to Pennsylvania?* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:30 pm ((HAHA)) [[...Sectioned? She wanted to have him cut into pieces?]] FakeProwl 7:31 pm Involuntarily committed to psychiatric care. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:32 pm [[Ah.]] *Slight frown.* [[Strange choice of word. But he sees, thank you.]] FakeProwl 7:33 pm *starts.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:33 pm *Joins.* FakeProwl 7:33 pm *... well that was a hell of a start to the show* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:34 pm *Soundwave leans forward.* [[He has heard of these old recording devices.]] FakeProwl 7:34 pm ... I have—had—a friend who was a hostage negotiator. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:34 pm *Hmmwhat? Focus back on Prowl. Listening.* FakeProwl 7:35 pm I'm fairly certain that he's a walking example of why Functionism is wrong, because I don't know how he got the position, but he's the single most socially inept bot I have ever known. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:36 pm [[...Did they often end like the one we just witnessed...?]] FakeProwl 7:36 pm I didn't know him then. And I'm a little concerned to find out. FakeProwl 7:38 pm I met him only a couple of times before the war, never saw him work, and by the time I got to know him he was a soldier and a detective in his free time. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:38 pm [[Who are they? Does he know them?]] FakeProwl 7:38 pm Nightbeat of Yuss. *listens carefully to the lecture on hostage negotiation* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:40 pm *Light wrinkling of faceplates.* [[He has heard of them.]] FakeProwl 7:44 pm ... For the record, on Earth, the majority of murders are still between people who know each other. The claim that murder has become something largely between strangers is false. ItsyBitsySpyers 7:45 pm [[It is a poor one.]] *Mental equivalent of a mutter at her "do you like my approach" thing.*

[[Was it false at the time this is set?]] ItsyBitsySpyers 7:47 pm *...This conversation they're having feels somewhat familiar.* FakeProwl 7:48 pm I'd have to look it up, but from what I've seen, that massive a demographic shift in crime would likely have been evident while I was on Earth. FakeProwl 7:50 pm *Prowl knows it's a variation on conversations he's had plenty of times.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:54 pm *Minor optic roll. At least it's back to the police business.* FakeProwl 7:54 pm *optics glaze over for the organics fucking.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:54 pm *At least they're on the same wavelength on that.* FakeProwl 7:55 pm *... what IS a backroom boy?* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:55 pm *He doesn't know. He's looking it up right now.* ItsyBitsySpyers 7:56 pm [[...Someone who does important thinking and work for an organization in secret. How is that something not to aspire to?]] FakeProwl 7:59 pm Ah. Well, those aren't the people who are respected. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:00 pm [[But they get what needs to be done, done.]] FakeProwl 8:01 pm Of course they do. But the people in charge don't respect them for that. And will ignore their opinions as often as they think they can. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:05 pm *Disgruntled puff. It's true. He still thinks it's not the best idea to tell someone trying to get something done "do you want to be mistaken for someone who gets something done?" if you're trying to discourage them.* FakeProwl 8:07 pm *Unless the person you're talking to also disrespects them.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:07 pm *Fffffair point.* FakeProwl 8:09 pm *Hey, brilliant law enforcement mind who's totally clueless about normal relationships with other people. Prowl can sympathize with that.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:10 pm *Glance.* [[For the record, he is not intimidated.]] FakeProwl 8:11 pm *Glances back* I haven't been law enforcement as long as you've known me. Talk to me in a week. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:13 pm *A thin but wide smile.* [[He'll be sure to do that.]] FakeProwl 8:14 pm *they're saying a name that sounds like "Froid" a whole lot* *while talking about psychology.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:15 pm *Has not met a Froid and does not know to be intrigued by that.* FakeProwl 8:16 pm *it's making Prowl nervous.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:17 pm *Visibly?* FakeProwl 8:18 pm *for a little bit, he went very still.* *but now he's just normal still.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:19 pm *Then it'll have been noted, but it will probably take at least another few incidents for him to think something connected is going on.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:23 pm ((ah gotta pause be back in like three minutes)) FakeProwl 8:24 pm *ugh, can't stand those people. the ones that lash out at the people who are trying to help because they're upset. as if saying "I can't tell who the murderer is" is the same as saying "I'm the murderer."* FakeProwl 8:27 pm ... So what's the other one's solution? Does he think they SHOULD make up things to tell the officer that they don't know with any certainty? He's telling the main character that he's full of scrap because he said they don't know anything. I didn't hear him say otherwise—I didn't hear him offer anything. He's just mad at the main character for admitting they can't conclude anything. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:31 pm [[It doesn't make any sense to be mad about that. Were they not on that trip to find answers to the things they don't understand? Admitting they don't is -important-.]] FakeProwl 8:31 pm Exactly. Claiming they've figured out more than they have—making up rubbish to offer the officer—will only achieve two things: it will feed their egos, and it will hinder the case. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:32 pm [[Three things. If they do find a way afterward, it will make others unlikely to pay it attention.]] FakeProwl 8:33 pm Mm. That too. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:34 pm [[Eurgh.]] ((...*checks the name on the teacher's actor because the voice is familiar*)) ItsyBitsySpyers 8:36 pm ((*doesn't recognize. damn.*)) FakeProwl 8:40 pm ... How can he claim that he's an authority on criminal behavior and psychology when he won't even deign to speak to the criminals he claims to be an authority on. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:41 pm [[And risk proving himself wrong? Losing status?]] *Soundwave is only half looking at the screen.* FakeProwl 8:41 pm *Huff.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:44 pm *His turn to huff.* FakeProwl 8:46 pm He really needed a better cover story before going in. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:47 pm [[...Why would he want that for himself.]] FakeProwl 8:48 pm I don't think he's talking about what he wants. I think he's judging, from a practical standpoint, what he believes would let society get the results they want out of him. FakeProwl 8:51 pm The criminals I've known are all mostly quite self-aware about the difference between their behavior and what society expects out of them. ItsyBitsySpyers 8:51 pm [[No arguments.]] FakeProwl 8:52 pm He wasn't asked "what do you want," but "what do you think society should do with you." ItsyBitsySpyers 8:55 pm [[...Good point. He can't say he would have agreed with what he knew society would want to do to him.]] *Pause.* [[What some in it still think should happen to him.]] [[Though most of them are at least a third as accomplished.]] FakeProwl 8:56 pm ... I... don't think that's what that hole is for. *is learning SO MANY new things about human anatomy and the things you definitely shouldn't do with them.* ItsyBitsySpyers 8:58 pm *Indeed.* FakeProwl 9:01 pm ... This time, he does have a point. There IS a distinct probability that that's all manipulation. FakeProwl 9:02 pm He was asking him about his psychological history, asking "how does this make you feel," with his little notepad out to take notes—and he fed him back tailor-made psychological explanations for his behavior. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:02 pm [[Perhaps. Though there's something to be learned from that too.]] FakeProwl 9:04 pm Oh, there's always something to be learned from someone lying. As long as you know it's lying. You learn, for instance, what he's been taught a psychologist looks for. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:05 pm [[And then not to be that, he assumes?]] FakeProwl 9:06 pm Oh, no, if that one was lying, he was lying by trying to be exactly what a psychologist looks for. He presented a very obvious psychology-based motive for his behavior. *points at screen* He's wildly speculating on insufficient evidence. "Doesn't bathe because bathing is what his parents want," or maybe he's homeless and can't shower. You don't know. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:10 pm [[That was the one he expected. It seems more likely than... defiant filthiness.]]

*Soundwave sits up to see if things differ between people.* FakeProwl 9:12 pm He's even using psychiatric terms. FakeProwl 9:15 pm He might be funneling his own, real experiences through the framework of the psychology he's learned; or he might be making up a pile of motives based on what past shrinks have told him ought to be the root causes of his behavior. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:15 pm [[Do you think - if it is the latter - that he has come to believe them?]] [[Or is it simply convenient to regurgitate them?]] FakeProwl 9:17 pm Either is a possibility. I don't think anything about it. It's psychology, and it's aliens. It's not my forte. But he's basing his beliefs on his /instincts./ *shakes his head.* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:21 pm [[Hm. At least he listened to -one- of them.]] [[He must ask what you do when faced with a case like the ones they are trying to work out if you don't apply these psychology things, though.]] FakeProwl 9:23 pm Mm. And yet he still can't comprehend that maybe understanding a criminal makes it easier to catch the criminal. Psychology is good for theories. It works for guesses. Guesses give you somewhere to look if you don't have anywhere else. FakeProwl 9:25 pm Where you WANT to look? Facts. Evidence. Paint, tread marks, dents. Objects that have clearly been removed from the crime scene that should be there, objects that were left at the crime scene that shouldn't be there. THAT'S where you want to look. FakeProwl 9:28 pm If you have imagined up a theory of what the suspect ought to look like, and then you find a suspect that matches your fantasy, that doesn't prove anything. No matter how good your theory is. That doesn't make your suspect guilty. Once you HAVE that suspect, sure, you can look for REAL evidence. You find a hammer in his home with scrapes of the victim's paint around the edge—great. NOW you've got your killer. Because now you have EVIDENCE. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:29 pm [[Then the point of his work should be use as a helpful tool, not the ending of the search.]] [[Correct?]] FakeProwl 9:30 pm Exactly. And he's—overreaching. Like the theory with the kid with a problem with authority. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:32 pm [[Is that a common problem? Making up too much?]] FakeProwl 9:32 pm Ugh. SOME people. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:33 pm *A little startled by the ugh and the emphasis on '"some".*

[[...What? What is wrong?]] FakeProwl 9:34 pm Nothing's wrong. I've had some coworkers I didn't like. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:35 pm [[Oh. You were - he thought something on screen was objectionable and he'd missed it.]] FakeProwl 9:35 pm No, no. I was answering your question. Terrible investigators. They could make up a whole novel based off the shape of a scrape. FakeProwl 9:37 pm Trust me on this—as the most meticulous report-writer in the Iaconian Mechaforensics Division—the maximum you can /actually/ get out of the shape of a scrape is eight pages. Single-spaced. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:38 pm *He looks at Prowl, slightly open-mouthed even though he doesn't intend to speak out loud, closes his mouth, opens it.*

[[...Do you still have any? Reports like that.]] FakeProwl 9:39 pm From IMD? They probably didn't survive the war. The only person I know who /might/ still have some of my old paperwork is— Oh, no, he's dead. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:39 pm *Yes, yes? Who? Wh-- oh. Damn.*

[[...If he found an interesting scrape, could you write a sample?]] ItsyBitsySpyers 9:41 pm *Gestures to the screen with his free hand.* [[They can't possibly--]] ((one sec i cro'd my food)) FakeProwl 9:41 pm ((oh my god)) Hm. They revised their theory based on new evidence. The bad investigators don't do that. FakeProwl 9:43 pm Psychology is still a dangerous game, though. Anybody can make up any one of a dozen stories to fit the known facts. Maybe one of that dozen fits the actual profile of the actual perp. FakeProwl 9:44 pm But what if the theory that the investigator actually thought up and settled on was one of the OTHER dozen? His optics will glaze right over when the real suspect goes by, because he didn't fit the profile. It's bound to be no different on Earth. Their minds are no less varied and complicated than ours. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:45 pm [["Now what has he done"? Has he done other things?]] FakeProwl 9:46 pm She clearly despises him. Maybe he's never done anything—that she knows of. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:51 pm [[...It still seems lucky.]] FakeProwl 9:51 pm It IS lucky. It's also TV. They got to script an easy capture. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:54 pm [[Well, yes. But if it is meant to reflect how things are done - that's all.]] FakeProwl 9:55 pm It's sci-fi. The sci is scicology. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:56 pm *Looks at.* FakeProwl 9:56 pm *poker face* ... It wasn't very good, was it. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:57 pm [[It was very good. He was trying to think of how to compliment it without you denying the compliment.]] FakeProwl 9:57 pm Oh. Thanks. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:59 pm *Nod nod.* [[He likes when you dabble in wordplay. You tend to find unexpected moments for it.]] *So Prowl doesn't feel pressured for the future, and because it is true:* [[Though he likes the more obvious ones too.]] FakeProwl 9:59 pm It isn't my forte. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:00 pm *See? Denying the compliment.* [[Then it is all the more impressive.]] FakeProwl 10:02 pm I do what I can. *He knows Soundwave appreciates them.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:02 pm *Better.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:09 pm *Munch munch munch.*

[[Sometimes he has wondered - no. Hold on.]] *Tries to rearrange his thoughts some.* [[He is not truly meant for law enforcement. You know that already; he told you. And you have working optics.]]

[[But sometimes he wonders what things would be different if others had his abilities. In this case, if a better officer had them.]] [[How that would change dealing with suspects, and the laws around it.]] FakeProwl 10:10 pm Mm. ... It'd make interrogations a lot easier. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:10 pm [[He can confirm that one.]] ((AAAAGH OJ IN MY EYE brb washing eye)) FakeProwl 10:10 pm ((oh no)) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:12 pm [[Whether or not that would - hmm. Should? Be legal to use. Information gathered that way.]] FakeProwl 10:12 pm ... This character again. Is he going to be a mass murderer? ItsyBitsySpyers 10:13 pm [[Perhaps they'll use their invention to catch him.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 10:14 pm [[...He's in security system work. He's going to break into places he's already secured, isn't he.]] FakeProwl 10:14 pm ... It probably would be legal, under the right circumstances, with the right supervision and clearance and evidence that it was both justified and necessary. I don't know whether it SHOULD be. ... Well—yes. It should be. But /should/ it be. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:17 pm *Soundwave vents quietly.*

[[Do you know how many illegal things he hears others being tempted to do? How many he listens to every day?]] FakeProwl 10:18 pm Give me a rough number. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:19 pm [[You don't want it.]] FakeProwl 10:19 pm I wouldn't ask if I didn't. FakeProwl 10:26 pm *jumps* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:26 pm *Soundwave shakes his head. No, he really doesn't think Prowl does. At least, he won't once he sees how high the number climbs even on a good day.*

[[But he can't act on them. Not now, anyway. Under Megatron, it was--]] Never mind. [[Not now. He has to wait until something comes of it, if it does. Which is rare, compared to how often he hears things.]]

[[It is good for an intelligence officer to have. It is not for a p--]] *JUMP* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:28 pm *Long vent. What timing.*

[[...Not a good ability for a police mech, he thinks.]] FakeProwl 10:30 pm *he DOES want to see that number, thank you.* ... It sounds like a nightmare. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:36 pm [[It was less of one when he wasn't trying to do your job.]] *Soft huff.* [[So. You see why he wondered what would happen to the system if there were more like him.]]

[[...It is probably for the best that there aren't.]] *Flicks a hand.* [[He doesn't mean to derail. He was thinking about the idea of 'useful tools'.]] FakeProwl 10:37 pm I don't know. It's hard to extrapolate from a sample size of one. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:44 pm [[He is a Pit of a one sometimes, if he says so himself. Forgive him if he's not eager to increase the sample size.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 10:46 pm [[...And he doesn't see what an interest in bondage has to do with criminality.]] FakeProwl 10:47 pm You'll be pleased to know we're not going to ask you to sign up for any tests trying to replicate your brain. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:47 pm [[...He is, actually.]] FakeProwl 10:47 pm It's an awful stereotype, the bondage thing. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:48 pm [[Have you run into it yourself?]] FakeProwl 10:53 pm The worst I ever encountered was a mech who believed it was impossible for someone who got off to tying people up to be psychologically stable. FakeProwl 10:54 pm I took out a set of bright, red, and obviously toy handcuffs. He shut up. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:55 pm *Amused.* [[Do you still have them?]] ItsyBitsySpyers 10:58 pm *LOUD huff.* [[Buzzsaw is highly intelligent and he could not find a thing in the correct spot in his deployer's room if everyone's life depended on it.]] FakeProwl 10:59 pm Like I said. Science fiction. That particular set of cuffs? No. I like cuffs like them, though. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:02 pm [[...Do you have any now?]] FakeProwl 11:03 pm Not currently. Lost my last set on the Lost Light. Rodimus borrowed it. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:04 pm *The return of the wrinkled faceplates and some munching.* [[Let's leave that pair where it is.]] FakeProwl 11:05 pm If he's still got it, it's somewhere halfway across the galaxy by now, so I think that's fair. FakeProwl 11:06 pm That's the third time he's shown up. He's definitely going to be the big villain. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:09 pm [[The to-be villain is off to a slow start.]]

[[...This reminds him. He has had a silver handcuff key for some time now, but nothing to go with it.]] [[An anonymous gift. He's often wondered what to do with it. Perhaps he'll have a set built around it.]] FakeProwl 11:10 pm Hm. An interesting concept. Building a lock to fit a key. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:12 pm [[More complex things have been reversed before.]] This message has been removed. FakeProwl 11:14 pm If you want /recreational/ cuffs, I'll have to give you specifications. They have to be designed differently than regular cuffs. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:15 pm [[...He didn't say they were for him. But that would probably be helpful.]] FakeProwl 11:16 pm Hm. Well, whoever they're for. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:17 pm [[Yes. Whoever they're for.]] FakeProwl 11:18 pm *a brief ghost of a smirk* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:22 pm [[It amuses him when others mistake cuteness for an inability to manipulate.]] FakeProwl 11:26 pm ... Why is the girlfriend in this show? I thought when she was introduced that she was going to contribute her psychological education to the development of this whole system. But she's... not part of the plot. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:28 pm [[Perhaps she has a greater role yet to come?]] FakeProwl 11:28 pm Perhaps. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:32 pm [[So be rude.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 11:34 pm [[...What does hair have to do with confiding.]] FakeProwl 11:35 pm *shrugs. hair is mysterious and kind of hard to look at.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:35 pm *He knows there is an Earth movie claiming someone's hair is full of secrets, but he never worked out what that meant and this seemed to have been a dead end too, so... oh well.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:40 pm *Polishes off the last of his snacks and sets the stash on the ground by the couch. He'll clean that up later.* FakeProwl 11:40 pm *for the record—that was an impressive quantity of snacks.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:41 pm *He won't have thought about it as such. It's just what he needed to refill on.*

[[Cleaning supplies.]] FakeProwl 11:42 pm *And Prowl has changed his estimates for the capacity of Soundwave's fuel tank.* The magic words. FakeProwl 11:44 pm There will likely be blood in the drains of the sink and tub still. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:44 pm [[...Still?]] FakeProwl 11:44 pm Still, yes. Dried. Traces. But detectable, even without luminol. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:45 pm [[But humans bathe more often than we do.]] [[Shouldn't that have washed it down?]] FakeProwl 11:45 pm From what I have seen of forensics on Earth, blood is /extremely/ hard to get rid of. Traces of it will dry and stick around forever. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:46 pm [[Hmm. That... sounds odd, but he will trust you.]] *And maybe not tell Knock Out there are probably traces of Silas all over his tools still.* FakeProwl 11:47 pm Even once it's been completely cleaned up to the naked eye, invisible traces of it will remain and be detectable with proper chemical tests. I think it's the... lllipids? Some component of the blood. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:48 pm [[...Human blood has components?]] FakeProwl 11:48 pm ... Yes. There's multiple ingredients. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:49 pm [[And those don't separate in their fuel lines.]] FakeProwl 11:50 pm No. It's all very thoroughly mixed. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:50 pm [[...He will be reading up on this.]] FakeProwl 11:51 pm I don't know all of the components. But I know it contains mitochondria and DNA. And I'm told it contains iron, but tastes like copper. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:51 pm [[That part is true.]] FakeProwl 11:52 pm Please tell me you haven't tasted human blood. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:53 pm [[He hasn't, no.]] *Disgusting.* [[But Ravage licked some once, and it was not too different from the blood of the creature they call e-mu. Which he has hunted.]] FakeProwl 11:54 pm *... eating organics. yeah, okay, great. just keep your mouth shut and nod, Prowl. yes. fascinating. e-mu.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:54 pm *Eyeing Prowl. He can hear that awkward silence, you know.*

[[He said it smelled like metal and wanted to find out why. The emu was for a plant.]] [[Those without hands have to have -some- way of carrying things.]] FakeProwl 11:55 pm "For a plant"? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:56 pm *...Oops. He'll carry on like it's nothing.*

[[Yes. Our Ratchet maintains a... what is the word. A greenhouse. Many Earth plants benefit from the presence of dead organic matter and some consume other organics.]] *And so does the one in his shed, but they're not talking about that one right now.* FakeProwl 11:57 pm *oh. that's much better than what prowl was thinking. he was picturing a pink alchemy production plant.* Yes, ah... fertilization, I think it's called? ItsyBitsySpyers 11:57 pm [[That is eggs.]] FakeProwl 11:58 pm Oh. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:58 pm [[...He thinks.]] FakeProwl 11:59 pm ... You're probably right, I've been researching eggs far more recently than I've been researching anything that might concern plantlife on Earth. Yesterday ItsyBitsySpyers 11:59 pm *One of his optics twitches ever so slightly with the effort to keep a straight face. He doesn't normally bother when his mask is off, so it's not easy.*

[[He's not surprised.]] FakeProwl 12:01 am *oblivious to the twitch. probably would have been oblivious to whatever expression soundwave was suppressing, too.* ItsyBitsySpyers 12:02 am *Good. It'll make him happier not being called out on the difference between the blank visor and his rather mobile features.*

[[He wouldn't mind seeing the data you've gathered, when you have a chance to share it.]] FakeProwl 12:03 am *Barely manages to keep a straight face himself. Most of the "data" he's gathered is Tarantulas's porn.* ... I'll see what's shareable. ItsyBitsySpyers 12:04 am *Helm tilt. That's an odd thing to say. Has he been interviewing other egg-layers or something?*

[[Very well. Thank you.]] ItsyBitsySpyers 12:06 am [[For now, though, he should rest. Frames heal faster with fewer systems running.]]

[[Would you like to join him? He does not yet know how your new schedule changes things...]] FakeProwl 12:07 am I am, once again, diurnal. So I'd be delighted. *The Constructicons are letting Prowl sleep NEAR them again, but not WITH them.* ItsyBitsySpyers 12:12 am *Perk. Then he doesn't need to rush off right away?*

[[Good.]] *He wobbles slightly standing up, but gets his balance quickly enough and offers his good arm. He'll carry the avatar up there with him if Prowl wants.* [[Let us go. Here, for now, though he -would- like to see your apartment in person and not through a camera lens some time.]] FakeProwl 12:14 am ... Sometime when the Constructicons are out. And confident you won't bug it while they're gone. *that's going to take a while.* *takes Soundwave's hand. no carrying. not with your arm the way it is. no matter how light avatars can get.* ItsyBitsySpyers 12:16 am [[He is a very patient mech... and they'll have even less reason than usual to worry about that if you keep him busy enough.]]

*Ah? Not a problem. He likes that, too. And toward the stairs he goes - after giving the back of Prowl's hand a kiss.*

#slenderwave #chat

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