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a-pigeons-soliloquy · 1 year ago

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oouugghhh hannigram either 7 or 45. maybe even combine the two.

ok so it has been. a while. this one got, uh, more than a little out of control lmao (almost 3500 words holy fuck). but it's finally finished! i'm not sure if it exactly fits the prompts anymore but i tried to combine them both :) i hope you like it! (even if it did just end up as yet another mizumono fic lol oops)

***

"You were supposed to leave," Will hisses, and his voice is a devastated, furious thing.

There is blood soaking into his shoes and the scent of iron hangs heavy in the air, and the worst part is that Will doesn't even know whose blood it is anymore, but the question is lost to the back of his mind. Because in front of him stands a dishevelled man whose shirt is a mess of shiny red stains, a knife dripping in his hand.

A man who isn’t supposed to be there at all.

"I didn't want to leave without seeing you one last time," Hannibal says. The words one last time should be ringing alarm bells in Will's head, but he can’t hear them over the overwhelming chorus of thousands of other alarms, because everything is going wrong. There is blood on the floor and on the walls and Alana and Jack lie dying among shards of glass, and there is a SWAT team likely only minutes away, and yet Hannibal is still here.

They both are.

And now Will doesn’t know what to do, hasn’t known what to do for the last 3 months and hadn’t known what he’d do next when he’d made that phone call, telling the Chesapeake Ripper that they know. All he’d known was that he didn’t want Hannibal to die, didn’t want him locked up in a cage by his own hands. But here he is, faced with the consequences of his own actions, and once again Will doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to feel, or even what he is feeling beyond the adrenaline and desperation and horror and relief and confusion. He doesn’t want to feel the overwhelming guilt and sense of responsibility that has been steadily building behind his ribs since this whole scheme began. Yet that guilt now tears at the lining of his chest and crushes his lungs and holds his throat in a chokehold, and it’s just all too much and all he can think is none of this was supposed to happen and this is all my fault and what if?

Seeing Hannibal alive, he’d been struck by a sudden wave of relief that had almost caused his knees to give out beneath him. But now, as Hannibal’s eyes meet his, the awful look that greets him makes a pit suddenly form in his stomach, and the relief gives way to guilt again. And Will can’t take it.

None of this was supposed to happen.

This is all my fault.

What if?

And then it hits him: none of this was supposed to happen. And it hadn’t needed to. This awful mess of glass and blood and ruin could have all been avoided if Hannibal had just listened. If he’d trusted Will when he’d picked up the phone with shaky fingers and told him to run. But he hadn't. And this realisation comes with a sick sense of understanding, because for the whole time Will had known him, Hannibal had always had to have something hidden up his sleeve, always had to keep secrets from Will. Always had to know better. Feel superior. At last the final veil falls from Will's eyes, and all at once he can see how foolish he'd been to ever believe that they could be equals. How pathetic it was that, for those few long weeks they'd spent together, he'd actually believed that they were.

(Will fiercely forces back the voice in his head that whispers that he hadn’t exactly given Hannibal a reason to trust him.)

Heart hammering against his ribs, all of that guilt and fear melts together and stretches and twists and is reborn as deep, righteous anger.

Because no, all he’d wanted was for Hannibal to be safe and free and far from here, even if it meant Hannibal hated him, even if it meant they could never be together, even if it meant that one day Hannibal would come back and rip his still-beating heart from his chest without remorse. But instead here they are, highly armed police likely mere minutes out. And all because Hannibal hadn’t listened. Bitterly, Will thinks to himself that maybe he couldn’t change Hannibal in this way after all.

As if hearing the war cry of bitterness and anger, the resentment he’d kept locked away over the last year begins to bay and claw at its cage too, and, with no reason left to hold it back, Will finally opens the latch and lets it loose.

His next words come out as a growl. “Well now neither of us might get to leave at all”.

Hannibal looks at him, and before he can hide any emotion behind his mask Will can see surprise and deep betrayal warring behind his eyes. It should make him stop and consider, that surprise - that indication that he is behaving in a way that Hannibal did not quite anticipate. But the look of betrayal is like a knife to his chest, and so Will grips his resentment tightly and fumes.

What had Hannibal expected? For Will to be small, desperate? Cowering? Begging for forgiveness? His lip curls in derision. As if he would give him the satisfaction. No, mongooses have teeth and claws, and may whatever god he believes in help Hannibal if he thinks Will won’t use them.

Hannibal manages to force the emotion all behind a mask of icy indifference, and now when he looks at Will his gaze is blank. Though it is not his usual blankness which Will has become familiar with. It is an empty, unsettling kind of blank, the sort of blank he’s only ever seen in the eye of a shark. When Hannibal speaks his voice is cold, colder than Will has ever heard it.

"Forgive me for having doubts about the sincerity of your warning when you've been lying to me for the last month. Forgive me for wanting to see the truth of where your loyalties lie."

The acknowledgement is agony. All the guilt Will had been trying to force down suddenly rears its monstrous head again, and he finds his voice suddenly drying up. His throat feels tight.

He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you'

Hannibal only scoffs. It is ugly. Will has never seen Hannibal ugly before.

"A last minute change of heart is hardly loyalty, Will," he says. “What does Uncle Jack think of your loyalty, lying bleeding out in my pantry? Alana, shattered on the street? How can I be sure you do not still intend for me to join them?”

Hannibal takes a step towards him, adjusting his grip on the knife. Will’s heart pounds. He forces himself not to take a step back.

“Because I chose you, Hannibal, I was always going to choose you, I just needed time to accept that.”

But Hannibal just looks away. “If that is what you truly believe, then you haven't just been lying to me, you've also been lying to yourself.”

It’s so wrong, yet Hannibal had said it with such certainty and disdain that all Will sees is the arrogance with which Hannibal always assumes himself to be right. He dares to presume to know what Will is thinking better than Will knows himself? It turns out Hannibal Lecter really is just like every other psychiatrist Will has ever met, and a sense of grief rises up within him at the loss of something he’d never thought he could have until meeting Hannibal.

He hates himself for mourning what he shouldn’t want.

Will smothers the voice in his head whispering that Hannibal may in fact be correct, that he really does know Will's mind better than Will does his own. Instead he lets anger take over again, and this time it burns.

“You know nothing,” he hisses. His hands shake. Deep waves of indignant resentment roll over him, the roaring of the waves matching the blood in his ears.

He doesn’t know what he expects Hannibal to do next, but it isn’t for Hannibal to hum to himself, then huff a mirthless laugh and concede in a tone both melancholy and angry, “Perhaps you’re right.”

Once again Hannibal meets his eyes. “You know, I've never fully been able to predict you, Will, but this time I had hoped. It is a mistake I will not make again.”

He prowls closer still, and this time Will steps forward to meet him. Fight has won over flight and as the rising fury makes it hard to find words Will’s body seems to have decided to speak for him. The ticking clock of the impending arrival of the FBI ignored in favour of the burning, all-consuming rage within him.

But the fear of their time running out is still there, forced down as it is, and between that and the anger it’s only getting harder to think, and Hannibal is only making it worse. Every word that leaves his mouth brings fresh waves of intense emotion and it’s rapidly reducing Will to a state where there is nothing in his brain except pure animalistic rage-fear.

He just needs Hannibal to stop talking for one moment so he can think.

With what little coherent thought remains in his brain, Will decides to tell Hannibal in the only way he can manage anymore.

“For once in your life can you please just shut the fuck up”.

Hannibal's eyes flash dangerously. His lips curl up into a snarl, and the part of Will that still understands anything knows that he’s made a mistake - he’s only succeeded in confirming for Hannibal exactly how his words are affecting him, and getting him to stop now won’t be achieved without consequences.

Hannibal is quick to recover, a cruel grin taking over his face. His head tilts condescendingly. “Terribly rude, Will,’ he taunts.

The fire inside Will soars higher. He can feel it scorching his insides.

“Fuck you, Hannibal.” He spits.

Hannibal begins to loom over him, moving closer still in a manner that can only be called predatory, until all that separates them is an arm’s length. The knife still glistens in his hand.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Will? Childish comebacks? I’ve come to expect better from you. I'm disappointed.” There is a gleam of self-satisfied malice in his eyes and the shape of his lips. He looks dangerous. He looks beautiful.

Will hates him.

Will loves him.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuck-

And suddenly Will can’t take it any longer.

Before he knows what he is doing, he’s grabbing Hannibal by the bloody shirt and crashing his lips into his.

Time seems to stop, the world narrowing into a millisecond of time in which Hannibal’s hair brushes against Will’s forehead, breath warm against his mouth, their noses pressed almost painfully against each other. A moment where the cooling blood on Hannibal’s shirt soaks into Will’s palms and stains his fingers red. A moment where Hannibal stands deadly still, as if frozen, and Will feels as if he’s been frozen too.

There is a distant pressure in the corner of Will’s abdomen, then the vague sound of something clattering to the ground. But Will’s lips are on Hannibal’s and it is as if everything everywhere is inconsequential other than the feeling of Hannibal’s teeth against his, just as he’d imagined on so many a lonely night.

The moment seems to last an eternity before Hannibal’s hand finally comes up to grasp the back of his shirt tightly, and Will feels the sharp pull of the fabric against his skin, the pressure of Hannibal’s knuckles firm against his flank. A breathy gasp escapes his burning lips, and he can’t help the animal noise that subsequently tears its way from his throat. Luckily it seems that is what it takes for Hannibal to finally move his mouth and kiss back with equal force, teeth scraping sharply against Will’s. They gravitate closer and closer until Will’s arm is wrapped around Hannibal’s neck and their hips are pressed tightly together.

Eventually, Hannibal lets out a deep growl before he at last pulls away, dragging Will backwards until there is an arm’s distance between them. Will’s eyes flutter open and he gazes up at Hannibal. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins and setting him alight, but this time it is not with anger but something wholly new.

As they lock eyes, Will realises that Hannibal is finally allowing Will to see, without barriers or veils, the full breadth of emotion in his eyes. There is still frustration and betrayal, yes (indeed, Will hadn’t let go of his either) but there is also - and Will’s heart skips a beat when he recognises it - pure and all-encompassing adoration. A wonderful warmth blossoms within his core, rendering him both weak and solid and light as a feather, and it is unlike anything Will can ever remember feeling.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

Then those wonderful, expressive maroon eyes flicker downwards, and Hannibal’s brow furrows, lines around his eyes deepening. Confused, Will follows his gaze, and is surprised to see a growing deep red stain on his shirt, though any reaction he distantly thinks he perhaps should be having is dulled and seems to float just out of reach. It’s strange; there isn’t any pain, just the memory of an odd pressure that he’d ignored at the time and a peculiar sense of unreality.

For a moment he just stands, uncomprehending, but as the adrenaline finally starts to wear off he becomes increasingly aware of a dull ache at the site of the wound, and it isn’t long before that dull ache blossoms into a terrible burning pain. Hand instinctively falling from Hannibal’s shoulder to hover protectively over the wound, Will looks back up at Hannibal, a mix of confusion, surprise, pain and betrayal written across his face. An involuntary whine slips from his suddenly dry throat.

The vocalisation appears to spur Hannibal into action. He takes Will gently but firmly by the arms and quickly guides him to a nearby sofa, helping him lay down across its seats before sinking to his knees beside him and pulling up his shirt to inspect the injury. A moment passes, then a near-imperceptible line of tension seems to drop slightly from Hannibal’s shoulders and he pulls Will’s shirt back down.

“It is as I thought: due to the angle and the quick loosening of my grip on the handle, only the tip of my knife entered your body. The wound is not so deep as to require immediate attention, but it will certainly require stitches.”

He guides Will’s hand back to his injury and helps him to apply the right amount of pressure. It hurts, and when Will winces and lets out small pained noise, Hannibal brings a hand to his hair and cards it through the damp curls. It feels nice, it feels so very nice and right, and Will’s eyes slip closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling. When he opens them, Hannibal is looking down at him, face once again carefully blank.

“There is likely very little time left before the FBI arrives,” he begins, “and I will soon be leaving for Florence. I will offer you this once and only once, and you will have until I return with our passports and a select few other items to make your decision.”

He fixes Will with a heavy look. “One last chance, Will. You can come with me to Florence, and I will show you the city where I became a man. We will leave immediately, take up new identities, and likely never return.

“Or, I can leave you here. You can wait for the cops to arrive and take you to a hospital. Your reputation will remain intact, and you can go back to your job and your house in the woods, your life as you know it, and you will never see me again.”

An almost undetectable pause, and then, “This is your final decision, Will. I suggest you make it wisely.”

With this he climbs to his feet and leaves the room

For a while Will sits thinking, but deep down he knows his mind is already made up. The myriad of complicated feelings he harbours towards Hannibal still plague him, and a part of him still wants to lock the man up and throw away the key, but he’s finally willing to admit that it’s all inconsequential. He knows now he can't live without Hannibal, for better or for worse, whether he loves him or hates him, or a twisted mix of both. He’ll miss his life terribly for the isolated comfort it brought, but he’d miss Hannibal far, far more.

There is only one choice to make.

The moment Hannibal reappears in the doorway Will is speaking.

“I want to come with you.”

Hannibal’s face remains carefully blank. “You understand there is no going back from this. I will not change my lifestyle and you can never return to the false life you have led. You will be shedding your sheepskin for good this time, and the world will be on our tail for as long as we-”

Will cuts him off.

“I want to come with you,” he repeats firmly.

A long pause, and then a small but genuine smile graces Hannibal's lips. With a dip of his head, he seems to accept the decision. “Very well,” he says, though Will can hear the unspoken relief that lies beneath it. He lets himself smile back, tired but overjoyed and honest. It feels right.

Hannibal comes back to where he lies on the couch, and helps him get up, his touch firm yet gentle as he holds Will against his side.

“Do you think you can walk?” he asks.

Will’s breath catches as the shift to being upright pulls sharply on his wound. While it could have been far deeper - and Will doesn’t want to imagine what Hannibal’s initial plan for him was - it is still painful, and increasingly so as the last of the adrenaline wears off. Plus, he’s losing a fair amount of blood, and the change in angle temporarily darkens his vision and sends stars dancing across his eyes. Grimacing, he closes his eyes and waits for the pounding in his head to stop. Hannibal lets him lean against him, steadfastly taking his weight, and says nothing.

When the stars fade and he feels steadier on his feet, Will considers Hannibal’s question, and after a moment of assessment nods - he’s been shot in the shoulder before, he can handle this - and lets Hannibal lead him out of the house and down the street to an unfamiliar car.

Alana is unconscious now, and Will catches Hannibal’s eyes lingering on his jacket where it lies over her body. He looks at her, the person he’d once imagined sharing a life with, and thinks of how important she had always been to him, even after everything. A pang of bittersweet nostalgia hits him, accompanied by a longing for a simpler time when maybe it could have been possible. But ultimately he allows Hannibal to help him into the passenger seat of the car. This is the life he’s chosen, the person he’s chosen, cannibalism and all. There is no going back now, and nothing to be gained from contemplating what ifs.

Then the car door closes, and Alana is hidden from sight.

There is another noise as Hannibal gets in the car from the other side, and after fiddling with some dials and buttons, he starts the engine.

“I will drive us to the airport where our flight awaits. When we are a safe distance from the house we will stop and I will clean and suture your wound. But for now I suggest you sleep - you will need the rest if you are to recover well.”

He must notice the lines of discomfort on Will’s face, as he adds, softening slightly, “There are some painkillers in the door.”

After taking the pills as directed, Will lays his head back against the headrest and allows his eyes to close. The last of the adrenaline has left his system, leaving behind a sudden bone tiredness that makes his lids heavy and breathing slow.

With the sound of the vehicle lulling him and the comfort of Hannibal’s presence beside him - alive, together - sleep comes quickly, and the last thing Will knows before the darkness claims him is the feeling of a warm hand gently coming to rest upon his own.

#nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannigram fic #hannibal fanfiction #my writing #kiss prompts #gonna say abigail is in the backseat of the car but it's dark and will is too tired to notice lol #and they find a way to have all 7 dogs sent to wherever they end up :)#i hope this is decent enough and there aren't any mistakes!#pretty sure everything is capitalised and in the same tense now haha #god this has taken forever #also #this is the first fic i've managed to finish in like 7 years so i'm really proud :)#now to work on my many other wips!#also i hope the formatting is ok!#let me know if it's horrible lol and i'll try to fix it

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thedivinefish · 9 months ago

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divinefishingtips · 9 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Big green bug

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After your registration payment, please submit your 3 prayers in the format below to: [email protected] Use words organic to you. Keep it simple as the examples below.

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prayers for the ideal partner to show up in my life here and now

for my current partner and I rekindle our love flame

that I become more in allowance of giving and receiving love

2) In Relationships (spouse, parent, child, friend, pets)

that my son/daughter discovers heart felt love and companionship

that my best friend heals from the loss of their spouse

that my spouse repairs the riff in his family

that my cat/dog

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prayers for all abandoned and unwanted pets to find loving homes

that we treat Mother Earth with more love and respect for being our home

For greater harmony between us & the plant and animal kingdom

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Hi. I felt so much better and was able to go back to work on Monday. Thank you for your prayers. All the best for you, your family, your friends and the crew!. Thank you again." - C.L. / New York

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365dailyaffirmations · 9 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Big green bug

TGIWednesday News

Reach out whenever we can help/contribute to you and yours! View Calendar First, Then Pay and Schedule 15 mins | 30 mins | 60 mins | Appointments

February Zoom Event

After your registration payment, please submit your 3 prayers in the format below to: [email protected] Use words organic to you. Keep it simple as the examples below.

1) For Myself

prayers for the ideal partner to show up in my life here and now

for my current partner and I rekindle our love flame

that I become more in allowance of giving and receiving love

2) In Relationships (spouse, parent, child, friend, pets)

that my son/daughter discovers heart felt love and companionship

that my best friend heals from the loss of their spouse

that my spouse repairs the riff in his family

that my cat/dog

3) For Mother Earth & her Creatures

prayers for all abandoned and unwanted pets to find loving homes

that we treat Mother Earth with more love and respect for being our home

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advancedthetapractitioner · 9 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Big green bug

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Reach out whenever we can help/contribute to you and yours! View Calendar First, Then Pay and Schedule 15 mins | 30 mins | 60 mins | Appointments

February Zoom Event

After your registration payment, please submit your 3 prayers in the format below to: [email protected] Use words organic to you. Keep it simple as the examples below.

1) For Myself

prayers for the ideal partner to show up in my life here and now

for my current partner and I rekindle our love flame

that I become more in allowance of giving and receiving love

2) In Relationships (spouse, parent, child, friend, pets)

that my son/daughter discovers heart felt love and companionship

that my best friend heals from the loss of their spouse

that my spouse repairs the riff in his family

that my cat/dog

3) For Mother Earth & her Creatures

prayers for all abandoned and unwanted pets to find loving homes

that we treat Mother Earth with more love and respect for being our home

For greater harmony between us & the plant and animal kingdom

Pre-register Now - $22

TGIWednesday Video Download

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Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives from the Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show.

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From the Fish Box

MY DAILY PRAYER TESTIMONIAL

Hi. I felt so much better and was able to go back to work on Monday. Thank you for your prayers. All the best for you, your family, your friends and the crew!. Thank you again." - C.L. / New York

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack Own this e-book so that you can read inspiration every day!

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

Use PayPal for subscription Click here

Use Stripe for subscription Click here.

*Anytime prior to your next scheduled payment within the 30 days, you can cancel or pause this service via email request.

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

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The Fish Market

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guardianofjunmyeon · 4 years ago

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Finding Atlantis (part 14)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: wait i forgot i left you all on a cliffhanger akjfhjf. Here’s an update (finally) im a bitch blocked about where the next chapter is going so it might take...about as long as this one took to be uploaded. Its gonna have some smut tho. This chapter has new characters and PLEASE appreciate my fucking bubble conversation, i wanted to use the whole “she came down in a bubble dawg!” convo but i didnt

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

There are certain experiences you’ve lived through enough times to consider yourself a pro at handling. Situations like being handcuffed to a bed. Like being left on an island with no food or water. Like having to fight your way out of a bar when someone is getting too rough with the other patrons.

Drowning is quickly becoming a situation with which you are getting too closely acquainted.

When the ocean swallowed your little dinghy, your life flashed before your very eyes. This was truly the end. The last thing you would ever live through would be the song of Atlantis tickling your ears, the sight of Junmyeon glowing blue, and the feeling of Baekhyun’s skin beneath your palm.

All in all it wasn’t the worst way to go, but there was still so much more that you wanted to experience.

You’d never gotten a chance to return home, to sit at that cliff where you sent off your mother’s body and tell her about all of the things you’d done with your life. To describe to her the ship you’d bought, the friends you’d made, the adventures you’d gone on and the memories you’d made. You wanted to go find Victoria again and thank her for taking you in.

You wanted to find that boy that saved your life when you were but a child and to thank him properly. You wanted to tell him all that you’d done and repay him for giving you that chance at life. You wonder if he’s grown up into a handsome man now. If he has a spouse and kids and a happy home on that island you once called home that you left as soon as you could. You wonder if he’d even remember you.

You’d never gotten a chance to get the Storm Chaser those new upgrades that you’d been saving up for. An extension to the crew cabins, sturdier masts, a new set of sails.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to fall in love, to have your heartbroken, to have a baby or even hold one for that matter. Would you have made a good mother? Would you have made a decent wife? Would you have been able to find someone willing to spend the rest of their life with you, on the seas, on land, wherever your hearts could make a home?

Would you have tried to make a home with Baekhyun?

The feeling of being sucked down into the depths of the ocean doesn’t get any less terrifying the second time that you go through it.

As a matter of fact, having it happen again is more terrifying than the first time. Maybe it’s because you can actually feel the pressure of the water crushing your chest. You can feel the way you’re being sucked farther down and the way the water rushes into your nose from the shock of being suddenly dragged under.

It’s nothing like the storm, nothing like fighting the waves and catching the flashes of light as you fought to climb to the surface. Of being tossed around and dropping and rising hundreds of feet seconds at a time. At least then you had a purpose. You aren’t trying to save a life this time. You aren’t able to fight the invisible force dragging you farther and farther down into the water. The water around you is calm, the movement of your body whizzing through the water feels scarily misplaced.

Magical. Unnatural.

Then it all finally stops.

The force pulls you into a pocket of air and gravity takes you by force. Your body collapses on solid ground, and you can breathe. You gasp frantically for air and cough violently as you attempt to catch your breath and your bearings.

You sit up and position yourself on shaky hands and knees as you heave on the dark basalt beneath your splayed fingers.

It takes a few moments of panicked breathing to realize –you’re alive.

You’re alive.

You realize that you’re alive and then you regain enough brain power to panic over if Junmyeon and Baekhyun are also alive. You hear dramatic coughing and hurling to your left and when you investigate you find Baekhyun on his ass with his head between his knees as his spits out salt water.

He looks like a miserable wet dog. You would laugh if you weren’t sure that you look the same.

But where is Junmyeon?

You look left and right, in front of you and behind you but you see no trace of him. No sign of him in the underwater cave you’ve somehow found yourself.

“How did we even get in here?” you spit more salt water on the ground and look for your area of entry. Down. It felt like you fell down. So maybe there is something above.

A gasp gets caught in your throat at the sight above you. Open water somehow suspended above. If you weren’t nearly positive that you somehow fell from there, you would think there was some extremely strong glass blocking the water from falling through the hole above. You can see the glow of deep sea fish swimming by and you’re hit with just how far below the surface you are.

Dizziness pounds through your skull and you hurl out more water all over your hands.

Disgusting.

“Are you guys alright?”

You lift your head at the sound of Junmyeon’s voice and feel your remaining strength seeping from your bones. He looks between you and Baekhyun’s pathetic forms with distressed eyes.

Baekhyun looks up from between his legs with an incredulous open-mouthed frown. He looks your first mate from his toes to his head. “How the hell are you dry?”

It’s then that you notice he looks remarkably put together. As if he never even experienced the sensation of being pulled straight towards hell through water. The patterns on his skin have dulled down to a pale blue, but they are still there as clear as day.

“An Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon answers with a shrug and a smile. He reaches out a hand to help you to your feet but you wave him away with a shake of your head.

“No, give me a second. I just- I need,” you point to the hole above, “This is just-” you close your eyes and wave him away weakly. “Fuck, I need some time.”

He laughs lightly and chooses to help Baekhyun up while you gather your wits. This is overwhelming. “Did you just materialize down here what the fuck?”

“No, I came down in a bubble.”

“A…bubble.”

“Yeah you know one of those things filled with air-”

“You couldn’t lend us one of those bubbles?!”

“I didn’t know how. I don’t even know how I got it around me. Must be an Atlantian-”

“If you say ‘Atlantian thing’ one more time I will, and I swear to Poseidon, strangle you with my bare hands right here.”

“…Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon finishes cheekily. Baekhyun groans loudly and you can hear the weak thumps of him trying to smack your first mate and being deflected.

You struggle onto your feet as Junmyeon and Baekhyun argue. Typical back and forth between the two of them, you know Baekhyun is all talk when it comes to most people; he won’t hurt Junmyeon.

Letting your eyes fully wander the cave, you take in the shiny crystals in the rock around you and the way everything glows a tranquil light blue.

You hear the thundering footsteps before you see the people coming charging towards you out of the alcove hidden from your view.

“INTRUDERS, DROP TO THE GROUND NOW!”

“We just got up,” Baekhyun whines at your side. You lower your still shaking body back down to your knees and hold your hands up in the air to show your willingness to cooperate. In the corner of your eye you catch Junmyeon landing a swift kick to the back of Baekhyun’s legs with his good leg and sending him to the ground with a painful crash.

You flinch at the noise and the people in matching outfits in front of you hold out their swords, ready to strike at any moment. Once Junmyeon has lowered himself to his knees, the group of people break apart to make way for who you assume must be the leader. If the aura of dominance and the extra sparking pink embellishments on their otherwise plain white uniform is anything to go by.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The man asks gruffly. He’s tall, handsome, big eyes rimmed in dark black kohl. His analyzing brown eyes drag from you, to Baekhyun, and finally land on Junmyeon. You catch the exact moment that recognition crosses his face.

His eyes widen and he blinks rapidly in disbelief, the sword in his hand clatters to the ground and resounds through the cave. “S-Suho? Prince Suho is that you?”

You turn to look at Junmyeon who has locked eyes with the leader with a look of confusion on his face.

“Do they know each other?” Baekhyun whispers to you.

“Shut up,” you hiss.

Junmyeon gasps and climbs to his feet. “Minho? Minho! I can’t believe it,” he says elatedly. The two of them run (Junmyeon more hobbling than running with the shitty cast still on his leg) into each other’s arms to embrace and you watch with a kind of fond sadness as they grip one another as if the other will vanish into thin air.

The other guards slowly lower their swords and break out into disbelieving whispers. Baekhyun grabs your left hand and lowers it to your lap. “I think you can lower your hands now prisoner. I don’t think they’re going to kill us yet.”

“It’s as if nothing in this world is enough to keep you from annoying the absolute hell out of me,” you grumble.

He beams, a wide and happy smile. “It’s my charm.”

You snort out a laugh while he stands up on both feet and holds out a hand for you to take to get up. You slap your hand in his and let him heft you to your feet.

Junmyeon calls out your name and you whip in his direction in alarm. He drags over the leader of the guard with a hand on his bicep and matching grins on their faces. “I want you to meet my childhood friend Minho!” He looks up at Minho with eyes beaming with happiness. “We grew up together, and Minho here is the Captain of the entire Atlantian military.”

Minho looks down at the ground bashfully.

“It is an honor to meet you. Junmyeon says that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I, as well as all of our people owe you our highest form of gratitude,” Minho says with a deep bow.

You blink at the gesture, stupefied into immobility. Junmyeon gives you a pointed look and a subtle bow of his own to hint that you should bow back. You quickly bend at the waist and rise up. “It’s- Uhm, thank you. It wasn’t just me though, there are lots of people to thank for his return up on the surface,” you say with a nervous smile.

Minho laughs. “I’m sure. You can all amaze us with tales of your time above at breakfast in a few hours. I’m sure you would all like a moment to settle and…” he looks at Baekhyun and your soaked clothing. “…clean yourselves up.”

The two of you frown indignantly.

As if you planned on showing up soaking wet.

Minho whistles loudly and a smaller man comes scrambling out of the group of guards. “Hendery, show our two outsiders where they can rest. I will take the prince directly to the Queen.”

The smaller man nods vigorously. “Yes sir. I would like to have Xiaojun assist me, if I can.”

“Take who you need,” Minho gives you both another once over before leaning down to whisper, “Make sure there is plenty of soap in their bathrooms.”

You squawk in embarrassment. Junmyeon offers an apologetic smile before coming to place both of his hands on your shoulders and lowering his voice to talk to you and Baekhyun as privately as he can. “Just follow them and relax. I will come find you once I am finished talking to the Queen. They won’t do anything to hurt either of you.” He squeezes your shoulder. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You nod in affirmation. Baekhyun grunts at your side.

Hendery and another young guard lead you away and out of the cave. You are only allowed one final look over your shoulder before Junmyeon vanishes from your sight.

The bleakness of the cave gives way to a wide low hallway covered from top to bottom in blue crystals, or maybe it’s glass.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you murmur to the man at your side. Neither of the guards bother to turn around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m trying to take it all in. This is insane I never thought I would ever actually see this place,” Baekhyun whispers back. You’re shocked by the genuine way he explains himself. “Why? Do you already miss the sound of my voice? I can keep talking if you want.”

“I’ll pass. I already miss the silence.”

His giggle resonates against the walls. You bite down on your lip to keep from smiling in return.

Your group reaches the end of the tunnel and the guards suddenly stop. Hendery turns around first. “Because we are unable to trust you we will have to transport you while keeping our city and location a secret.”

“Huh?”

“I think we’re going to get blindfolded,” Baekhyun whispers to you.

The other guard reaches into his coat and produces two pieces of cloth while Hendery slams a fist on the wall. A hole opens up where seamless wall once stood. You watch dumbly as the other guard, Xiao…Xiao something sits in the human-sized hole and then lies on his back before disappearing through a tube.

What the fuck is this place?

You’re blindfolded first and led to the hole. “Sit.” So you do. What kind of transport requires you to sit in a hole blind? You’ve lived a couple of years now and that's long enough to know that this doesn’t feel quite safe.

Before you can argue your way out of it, you’re pushed and then careening through space. With your eyes covered and the jolt of bewilderment at sliding too fast to be humanly possible you don’t have any choice but to let out a scream.

You’re on your feet again before you know it –albeit dizzy and shaking. The blindfold is removed and you’re met with the impassive face of the guard. You look around yourself to figure out what in the deep sea hell you just slid through.

“You might want to get out right about now,” he suggests.

You hear the telltale sound of Baekhyun’s yelling and cursing getting closer by the second, so you hobble out of the exit compartment and watch in wonder as the top of the compartment opens up and air blasts from the bottom to decrease the force of gravity as Baekhyun drops to his feet.

He’s shaking like a log and his wet hair and clothes are even more disheveled than they were before.

Maybe it’s the overload of being exposed to all the new technology and scenery, but you can’t stop yourself from loudly laughing at his appearance.

Xiaoxi…Xiaode…Xiaojun, that sounds right-

Xiaojun walks forward with a smile twitching on his lips to remove the blindfold from the once one-eyed troublemaker. But, Baekhyun has his eyes squeezed closed, refusing to open them. You take it upon yourself to physically pull him out of his spot.

“It’s over, you’re on solid ground now,” you tease. He peaks open one eye and it darts around distrustfully before he opens them both and leans forward with his hands on his knees to let out a dramatic exhale of breath. Another humored giggle escapes you. “You look like shit and the way you screamed-.”

He stands up straight with reddened cheeks. “Never speak of it,” he threatens in a low voice. You roll your eyes and lift a hand to fix his messy hair. You hear the hiss of air from the tube, knowing that Hendery will be arriving soon, but you busy yourself with smoothing down the unruly strands.

The red darkens on his face as you rake your fingers through the hair at his fringe. You aren’t sure what compels you to initiate the act, but he doesn’t stop you so selfishly you continue to take what you can. Satisfied with your work you smile shyly and turn away to hide your face and the heat you can feel creeping up your neck.

A cough snaps you back into attention.

Right, the guards.

Hendery has a creepily knowing smirk on his face while Xiaojun covers his mouth with his hand, but you can see mirth shining in his eyes.

Baekhyun clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. “So…where are we supposed to rest exactly? Or are we supposed to wander around and find it ourselves?”

Hendery motions to the right. “Down this hallway.” He nudges Xiaojun and they both walk forward. You resist the urge to smash your head into the wall as you follow behind. Into one of the…beautiful smooth white walls. For the first time you take in the interior of the building where you have ended up.

High ceilings and pillars. Enormous windows that go from ceiling to floor to show an expansive view of what awaits outside.

You’ve had plenty of time to image what Atlantis would look like, but seeing it in front of you now, bathed in a light like that of early dawn, with the reflection of water moving over the architecture…it’s too unreal, too magical to put into words.

“Keep up. You’ll be able to see the city after breakfast with the Queen,” Xiaojun advises. Both you and Baekhyun pick your pace back up after having fallen behind trying to take in all that around you.

Attempting to keep your gawking to a minimum you keep your eyes ahead and try to quickly take in as much as you can.

“We’re here,” Hendery says. You almost tumble into his side when he suddenly stops; and Baekhyun trips over his own feet at your side. “These will be your rooms. There will be drinking water and a bathroom for you to clean up. We have already notified the castle staff of your arrival and there will be clothes delivered to you for you to change into for the meal.

“Breakfast will be served in 3 hours. One of the castle butlers will come for you to show you to the dining area at that time. Until then we advise you entertain yourself inside of the room.” The door is opened and a grand suite awaits you. Your mouth drops at the extravagance of it.

A large bed rests at the very center of the room, draped in iridescent white curtains that look as creamy as milk. The floor is covered in cold white marble and speckled with shells and pearls embedded into it. A large couch is perched near the entrance, a lit fire in front of it keeping the room comfortably warm. A book shelf stretches across a third of the room only stopping at a golden archway that you assume leads into the bathroom. The room is decorated in soft golds, creamy whites and pale blues. You catch little accents of pink in the wall paint and on the couch pillows.

The dome-like shape of the room makes you feel like you’re in a bubble.

“What is with you guys and bubbles?” You grumble to yourself.

Xiaojun shrugs. “It’s an Atlantian thing,” he says simply.

You close your eyes in frustration while Baekhyun grumbles at your side.

“So whose room is this?” Baekhyun asks once he’s done cursing Atlantis and its obsession with bubbles. Hendery and Xiaojun share a look and you catch the sneakiness on their expressions.

Hendery is the one who decides to answer, cheerily as if he isn’t intentionally planning to ruin your time here in Atlantis. “Both of yours.”

“I’m sorry what did you just say?”

“This room is for the both of you.” Hendery casts Baekhyun a wide smile. “You’ll have to share because…uhm..”

“Because we’re low on rooms,” Xiaojun chimes in.

“Yes! Low on rooms,” Hendery agrees quickly, conspicuously. You narrow your eyes. “You see we have a lot of guests recently because of a…” he looks to Xiaojun for help.

“For a uh, for a wedding!”

“Who is getting married?” Baekhyun asks, just to catch them in their lie.

“One of the princes! Ah we must be returning to our Captain now. Rest well!” Hendery says quickly before he and Xiaojun rush away with their hands over their mouths, giggling like school children. You’re adults, you can share a room. You won’t let the giggling of the younger boys worsen the pounding in your chest.

You exhale and shake your head. “Come on.” You enter the room first and immediately feel relaxed by the colors, the roundedness, and general softness of everything around you.

The fire feels like it’s calling your name so you wander over to warm yourself up by its flames. Your wet clothes are beginning to feel bothersome again now that the excitement of being in Atlantis and being alive have begun to fade.

The sound of something sopping wet hitting the ground heavily pulls your attention from the flickering flames. When you turn around you don’t expect to see your roommate getting ass naked…

But alas that is what your eyes land on. His shoes and shirt are already in a wet pile by his feet.

“Baekhyun,” you admonish. He stops with his pants halfway down his legs. You look at his soft naked dick only momentarily before you raise your eyes back to his anticipatory face. “Really?”

“I’m cold and wet. I need a shower do you want me to get sick?”

“You couldn’t even wait to go change in the bathroom?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he responds before shucking the last of his clothing and standing in the middle of the room proudly.

In all his naked glory.

You can’t help but feel a bit put off by the fact that he doesn’t have any issue getting naked around you. He’s not even hard. It’s like your presence doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

Bitterly you wonder if you’d been Jongin would he have a different reaction in this situation. You stand up abruptly. Fuck Baekhyun.

Pettily you strip out of your clothes as you walk towards the bathroom, leaving the wet articles in your wake. “I’m cleaning myself first,” you state coldly as you all but rip the last of your clothing off at the archway of the bathroom.

You don’t turn around and you don’t bother to investigate why he seems stunned to his spot or why he averts his eyes as you walk by.

~~~

The bathroom is just as opulent as the main room. A creamy white with pretty pale pinks streaked through the marble and coloring the crystals that illuminate the room in a soft pinkish glow.

A tub the size of a small pool is carved into the corner of the room. Oils and scented salts in jars cover the expansive shelf built into the wall at its side. A wide mirror stretches across the room with a spout and basin to wash your hands in front of it. A varied range of brushes and facial oils and paints are neatly organized across the counter, settled in front of a thick patterned chaise. You find candles nestled snuggly beneath a shelf of towels and unused sponges on ropes.

Looking at your appearance in the mirror, your hold in the need to physically recoil. You skin looks blanched from the overexposure to water, and the hair on your head is knotted beyond belief. Not wanting to look at your naked form for too long you twist the knob at the tub to release a steady flow of lukewarm water. You toss in some oil that smells good and a soap that catches your attention. The bottle is make of glass and has writing that you can’t read as it must be in Atlantian, but it smells and looks good and bubbles up when it comes in contact with the running water.

Grabbing a comb from the counter of goodies and the specialized hair soap left at the side of the tub, you decide to make an event out of pulling your appearance back together. You will be meeting the Queen in a few hours.

Gingerly, you lower yourself into the water and shove your head under the spout before lathering it in hair soap and detangling the strands on your hand. Rinsing out the suds and then turning off the water, you allow yourself to be semi submerged in the water.

“Yah, you can’t steal the bath and then spend an hour using it. I could have been in and out already.” You crane your neck to find Baekhyun’s complaining form leaning against the archway.

“You weren’t fast enough. Not my problem. You can wait.”

“No I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. I’m not fucking moving.”

In the month you have spent time more intimately with Baekhyun aboard your ship as a fellow crewman, you’ve learned one thing about him that you didn’t know before. He can be astoundingly petty.

His intelligence, his wit, his strength and skill as a pirate, his ability to charm and talk his way out of anything –you knew of it all before. But this petty level of childishness is new.

That being said, you aren’t surprised to find him padding over and then climbing into the large tub across from you. He settles and then his bottom lip juts out.

“Happy now?”

“No.”

You snort loudly and his pout breaks off into something like a smile. You push a handful of water in his direction, not enough to do much and not with enough strength to even be called a splash.

The little shithead he is takes your push of water as permission to send a small tidal wave in your direction, splashing you directly in your face.

You splutter and wipe the water from your eyes while he laughs his loudest most punctuated laugh at your expense. When you squint at him through the water still in your eyes you see pure relaxed happiness in his features, and you can’t find it in you to even attempt to be mad.

This Baekhyun is the real one. The one he covers up with cocky smiles and biting words. The one he leaves locked away and protected from the heartlessness that is required of your jobs.

Happy Baekhyun is a vulnerable Baekhyun. A soft version of him that makes your heart hammer in your chest and sparks a juvenile desire to keep him at your side safe from anyone who dares try and take that side of him away.

His laughing calms to muffled chuckles hidden behind his hand. “Okay, now I’m happy.”

“That makes one of us,” you scoff out. The water begins to agitate your eyes so you run the water from the spout to flush out the fragrance laced liquid. Blindly you reach out for the stream only to continuously miss.

“Come here,” you hear at your side. “Here, lean back.” You’re moved to the side and you lean backwards only to come in contact with his chest. You tense before giving in and letting yourself relax against him. You feel his muscles shifting as he reaches around you to cup water and pour it over your eyes. You blink away the water and scrunch up your face in discomfort. “I’m not done, try and keep your eyes open this time,” he says gently.

You reach up and hold open each eyelid as he cups the water and lets it flush out the soap. Finally you can blink without agitation. You contemplate thanking him, but decide to do it once you’re safely on your side of the bath. As you’re making your escape, arms wrap around you and pull you back securely down between strong thighs and against a warm chest.

“Can you…uh can you let me go?”

“Nuh uh,” he grunts with a head shake.

You look down at where his arms are crossed over your chest and swallow thickly. He perches his chin on your shoulder and takes in a deep relaxed breath. You feel stiff as a board. “This is nice,” he sighs out.

This is too intimate. This is too intimate. This is too intimate.

“How long have you been in love with Jongin, Baekhyun?” you ask in a rush of breath. His grip on you loosens to nothing and you pull yourself away from him, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the hardening of your nipples. From the cold of the air and the all too close embrace you’d found yourself enjoying just a tad too much.

He splutters. “I- wh-” he starts to cough violently. You feel your heart sinking with each noise he makes. “I don’t- I’m not in love with Jongin!”

You let your silence and your frown portray your disbelief.

“I’m serious. I’m not in love with Jongin he’s like my younger brother, what would make you think that?!” He fake gags. “Oh gross, just the thought-” he covers his mouth to fake gag again.

You gawk at him. Is he overcompensating to hide the truth?

“What in Poseidon’s name would lead you to believe that I’m in love with Jongin? I nearly raised the kid.”

You feel embarrassment creeping up your neck like snakes. “You- the…Minseok said…”

“Minseok said I was in love with Jongin?!”

“No! Wait let me-” you smack a hand to your forehead. “Minseok said that you took the compass with you when you came to find the three of us and I guess I just I don’t fucking know assumed you had to want to find your crew most in the world and then I figured you were actually in love with one of them and Jongin seemed like the most likely of him and Chanyeol because Chanyeol doesn’t really seem like your type but I guess it could also be him since he’s kind of goofy and airhead at times too-”

His hands come out of the water to cup your cheeks and then –lips.

“Stop talking,” he says softly. Another quick press of his lips against yours. “You’re wrong and you’re stupid and you need to stop thinking before you overload your dumb little brain.”

“Hey-”

“Ah ah. What did I say?”

You purse your lips and let him squish your cheeks closer together until your lips are puckered ridiculously. The look in his eyes is fond almost, the smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes soft as he squishes and unsquishes your face.

You bat away his hands. “You still didn’t answer my question,” you whine despite yourself.

“Aw the baby getting upset?” he makes a face of exaggeratedly fake concern. “Come here, sit on daddy’s lap and I’ll make you feel all better.”

“Baek that was gross.”

“The invitation still stands.” He waggles his eyebrows and shimmies his shoulders. When his gaze drops down to your uncovered chest and a bit of the playfulness gets swallowed up by want, you feel a bit of that desire rushing through your veins again.

He isn’t in love with Jongin?

That only leaves more unanswered questions, but you let them go easily at the sight of Baekhyun reclining lazily against the side of the tub, rubbing up and down his thighs slowly and watching you with predatory closeness.

He is so sexy, you are so fucked.

Squashing the tiny feeling of shame, you crawl over and wrap yourself around him. You can feel him rising in excitement from beneath you. You let your arms rest lazily around his shoulders while he busies his hands with massaging circles on your hips.

“That feels nice,” you whisper in a puff of breath. You know that he can see how affected you are –can feel it in your impatient squirms against him as you attempt to subtly relieve the ache growing inside of you. He hums in agreement and focuses his eyes on your mouth.

You can take a hint when it’s staring you in the face like this. You lean forward and connect your lips softly. A peck. Another one. A kiss on the corner of his mouth. A kiss on the tip of his nose. Another on his smiling lips.

When you pull back there’s emotion swimming in his irises that sparks a heat in your core. You nip at his bottom lip.

A lick, a nibble, a juvenile laugh against pressed lips.

He sticks his tongue out through pursed lips, waiting for you to try and kiss him with his ridiculous expression. You pull away to grimace, only to laugh and lick a messy wet stripe from his upper lip to the tip of his nose.

“You’re a dick,” he laughs, wiping your saliva off his nose.

“And you’re a bastard,” you respond easily. You look at your deeply pruning skin with disdain. “We should dry off.”

“But I like it here in the tub; I haven’t even scrubbed the dirt off.”

“We can clean ourselves properly after I get your cock inside me.” You feel him twitch from beneath you. You cock your head to the side teasingly. “Oh, now you’re ready to get out?”

He scrambles from under you and over the edge of the tub right to the towels. You roll your eyes playfully and climb out just as he plops a towel on your head and quickly tries to dry your hair, only messing it up further.

“Hurry up. We’ll get sick if we stay like this for too long. We need to go to the bed and warm up, I can already feel a cold coming on.”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo story #exo stories #exo imagine #exo pirate story #exo fanfic #exo pirate au #baekhyun #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun story #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun pirate au

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tipsycad147 · 3 years ago

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Ares – Greek God of War

The son of Hera and Zeus, Ares is the Greek god of war and one of the twelve Olympian gods. He’s often seen as a representation of sheer violence and brutality and was considered inferior to his sister Athena, who is the representation of tactical and militaristic strategizing and leadership in war.

Although he was successful in war, his worship by Greeks was ambivalent, and he was the least loved of the gods.

Who Is Ares?

Ares is the son of Zeus and Hera. Described by Hesiod in his Theogeny as ‘city-sacking Ares’ and ��shield-piercing Ares’, Ares perfectly represented the bloody and more brutal side of war. He’s often depicted in the company of his sons with Aphrodite, aplty named Deimos (Terror) and Phobos (Fear), or with his sister Enyo (Discord). According to Homer, his fellow gods and even his parents were not very fond of him.

In early times in Sparta, human sacrifices were made to Ares from among those captured from war. In addition, there was also a nightly offering of dogs made in Enyalius in his honor. At Athens, he also had a temple at the foot of the Aeropagus or “Ares’ Hill”.

There is no extensive account of Ares’ life, but he has always been associated with Aphrodite from the earliest times. In fact, Aphrodite was known locally in Sparta as the goddess of war, cementing her status as his lover and mother of his children.

Ares’ Roman counterpart is Mars, God of War and the father of Romus and Remules (though his rape of the virgin Rhea), the legendary founders of Rome.

The most famous myth that involves Ares is his battle with the demigod, Hercules. Ares’ son Kyknos was notorious for stopping pilgrims on their way to Delphi to consult the oracle. This earned the ire of Apollo and to deal with this, he sent Hercules to kill Kyknos. Ares, enraged by his son’s death, engaged Hercules in a fight. Hercules was protected by Athena and wounded Ares.

Ares vs. Athena

Ares has a rather small role in Greek mythology, and this is perhaps because Athena was always considered superior to him. As such, the two always had this rivalry between them and they were in constant competition with each other.

Both were powerful deities and to some extent gods over the same field, but Ares and Athena couldn’t be more different from the other.

Athena represented the general attitude and beliefs which the ancient Greeks deemed appropriate, as an individual who was intelligent, calm, and skilled in warfare. She was a dedicated scholar and a fierce warrior. She takes decisions like a general in war, with patience and diplomacy. As such, Athena was loved and revered.

On the other hand, Ares was the embodiment of what the Greeks did not want to be, brutal, vicious and unempathetic. Ares is also intelligent, but he is driven by brutality and violence, leaving behind him death, devastation and destruction. He represents all that’s reprehensible in war. His cruelty is symbolized by his chosen throne – a seat made of human skin with knobs to represent human skulls. This is why Ares was hated and the most unloved of all the gods.

Ares in the Trojan War

Ares was always on his lover Aphrodite’s side and he fought for the Trojan prince Hector until he was pierced with a spear guided by Athena, who was on the side of the Spartans. He then went to his father Zeus to complain about her violence, but he ignored her. In the end, Athena’s Greeks defeated the Trojans.

The Unloved God

Because he was the ferocious god of war, he was universally detested. When he was wounded in battle by Diomedes and his father Zeus even called him “the most hateful of all gods”. Zeus also said that had Ares not been his son, he would surely find himself in the company of Cronus and the rest of the Titans in Tartarus.

Unlike other gods, he also never developed beyond the image of a battle-frenzy butcher who slaughtered left and right. As a consequence, there are only a few epithets about him and most are unflattering, such as “the bane of mortals”, and “the arm-bearing”.

Symbols and Symbolism of Ares

Ares is often depicted with the following symbols:

Sword

Helmet

Shield

Spear

Chariot

Boar

Dog

Vulture

Flaming torch

All Ares’ symbols are connected with warfare, destruction or hunting. Ares himself is a symbol of the brutal, violent and physical aspects of war.

Inasmuch as he loved warfare, he could also be seen as someone who was trying to prove himself not only to his parents but also to his fellow gods. It would not be unusual for someone who was always cast aside as inferior to want to achieve great things.

Lessons from the Story of Ares

Brutality – Wanton brutality will not lead to love, admiration, and appreciation. This is an important story that Ares must have also learned himself when his parents and the other gods chose to keep themselves away from him and men refused to worship him. Brutality can only get you so far, but it won’t win you the respect of people.

Sibling rivalry – jealousy, fighting, and competition among siblings can be frustrating and stressful. It is filled with physical aggression that can be damaging. The rivalry between Athena and Ares is a perfect example of negativity that goes on when siblings are pitted against each other.

Ares in Art

In Ancient Greek and Classical Art, Ares is frequently depicted with full armor and helmet and carrying a spear and a shield that it is difficult to tell him apart from other warriors. His battle with Hercules was a very popular subject in the 6th century BCE for Attic vases.

Picture https://www.artstation.com/artwork/0ngYwG

Ares in Modern Culture

Ares appears extensively in modern culture in several video games such as God of War, Age of Mythology, Spartan: Total Warrior, and Injustice: Gods Among Us. There are also various sports clubs in Greece which are called Aris, a variation of Ares, the most famous of which is Aris Thessaloniki. The club also has Ares in its sports emblem.

Ares Facts

1- Who were Ares’ parents?

Hera and Zeus, the most important gods of the Greek pantheon.

2- Who are Ares’ children?

Ares had several children, most notably Phobos, Deimos, Eros and Anteros, Amazons, Harmonia and Thrax. He had more children with mortals than with gods.

3- Who is Ares’ Roman equivalent?

Ares’ Roman equivalent is Mars.

4- Who are Ares’ siblings?

Ares has several siblings, including many of the Olympian gods.

5- What did Ares represent?

He stood for the negative and unpleasant aspects of war, including sheer brutality.

6- Who were Ares’ consorts?

Ares had many consorts, of which Aphrodite is the most popular.

7- What powers did Ares have?

Ares was strong, had superior fighting skills and physicality. He caused bloodshed and destruction wherever he went.

In Brief

Savage and unrelenting, Ares was the embodiment of all the terrible things about war. He remains in intriguing character in the Greek pantheon.

https://symbolsage.com/ares-greek-god-of-war/

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fletchermarple · 5 years ago

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It All Starts with Two Missing Kids

I’ve been following this rather crazy story for a few days now and I thought I’d share it with you. Just be warned before you read that this is all ongoing, so there’s a lot we don’t know. I’ll do my best to make it less confusing than it really is for you, and to set aside rumors from known facts.

We’ll start in November of 2019, when Kay and Larry Woodcock called police in Rexburg, Idaho, and asked them to do a welfare check on Joshua “JJ” Vallow, whom they hadn’t heard from since late September. JJ is a 7 year old boy with special needs and although he was Kay and Larry’s biological grandson, he had been adopted by Kay’s brother Charles Vallow and his wife Lori. Charles had died in July 2019, so JJ was living with Lori and her new husband, Chad Daybell (more on that later, because it’s one big piece of this puzzle).

When police arrived to Chad (51) and Lori’s (46) house on November 26, JJ wasn’t there. They claimed that he was staying with a family friend in Arizona, but police soon found out that wasn’t true. They went back the next day with a search warrant, only to find that Lori and Chad had abruptly left town with an unknown destination.

If that wasn’t suspicious enough, authorities realized that JJ wasn’t the only kid missing. His older sister Tylee Ryan, who was Lori’s 17 year old daughter, had also vanished and no one had seen or heard from her since September. Neither of the kids had been reported missing by anyone.

JJ and Tylee’s whereabouts remain unknown, and we don’t even know if they’re alive. Rexburg police has openly said they “strongly” believe they are in danger. In a press release from December 30, they said that witnesses claimed Lori and Chad had told them Tylee had died in 2018, which wasn’t true, and that Chad had told someone else that Lori had “no minor children”. Meanwhile, Lori and Chad, wherever they are, have lawyered up.

While the missing children is undoubtedly the more pressing matter, it’s only the tip of the iceberg in this case. Turns out that both Chad and Lori have quite a shady past, especially in relation to their previous spouses.

Chad was married to a woman called Tammy (49), who was found dead in her home on October 19, 2019 (so a month after the kids went missing). At the time, her death was considered from natural causes, but now police consider it suspicious and have exhumed her body to perform an autopsy and testing. The results, if they have them, haven’t been released yet. Chad married Lori only two weeks after his wife’s death.

Lori, who’d been married four times before finding her fifth husband in Chad, was also a recent widow, but her husband’s death was way more violent than Tammy’s. Charles Vallow and her had separated in early 2019 and their divorce was getting nasty. On July 11, 2019, Charles was shot to death by Lori’s brother, Alex Cox, in Arizona (where Lori lived before moving to Rexburg). Alex’s story was that Charles had showed up at the house, an argument had ensued and Charles had hit him with a baseball bat, so he’d shot him in self defense. Alex (51) himself died of unknown causes on December 12, 2019, and his death is currently under investigation as well.

So here is where things get a bit muddier, since some people believe that all this is related to an alleged cult. Both Chad Daybell and Lori Vallow were very religious. Chad owns a publishing company called Spring Creek Book where he had self-published many of his books that talk about the end of times and near death experiences. He and Lori used to appear in podcasts from a media company called Preparing A People, which claims to help prepare people on Earth for the second coming of Christ, and it’s connected to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The owners of said company issued a statement in December in which they distanced themselves from the couple.

According to the Woodcocks, Lori was a nice woman until she started getting more involved with this religious group in 2018, where she supposedly met Chad. When Charles Vallow filed the divorce papers, he made some very shocking claims about Lori, saying that she was “obsessive about near death experiences and spiritual visions”, that she claimed to be “eternally married to the prophet Moroni” from the Book of Mormon and that she had lived “numerous lives on numerous planets”. The document from February 2019 says: “(Lori) informed (Charles) that she is a translated being who cannot taste death sent by God to lead the 144,000 into the Millennium. She is receiving spiritual revelations and visions to help her gather and prepare those chosen to live in the New Jerusalem after the Great War as prophesied in the book of Revelations”. Charles also claimed that Lori said she had been assigned by God to “carry out the work of the 144,000 at Christ’s second coming in July 2020″ and that if he got in her way she would kill him, and that had an angel who would help her dispose of his body. And as we know, Charles was dead only 5 months later.

There are reports that Lori left Charles because he was cheating on her during his business trips. One police report seems to believe that Charles was the most suspicious of the two, and you can read about it here. So I guess we need to keep our minds open regarding this part of the story.

To add a little to the weirdness, a man called Brandon Boudreaux was married to Lori’s niece and claims she abruptly asked for divorce after she started spending time with Lori’s religious group. Then, in October 2, 2019, Brandon was shot at by some unknown assailant while he was driving a car registered in Lori’s name. The bullet missed him, but Brandon is convinced that it’s connected to this alleged cult (which, to be fair, hasn’t been officially confirmed by anyone).

Tylee’s dad, Joseph Ryan, who was Lori’s third husband, died in 2018 from a heart attack.

So far no charges have been pressed against Chad and Lori, who remain uncooperative with the investigation and refusing to reveal where her kids are. Their lawer issued a statement saying: “Chad Daybell was a loving husband and has the support of his children in this matter. Lori (Vallow) Daybell is a devoted mother and resents assertions to the contrary. We look forward to addressing the allegations once they have moved beyond speculation and rumor”.

UPDATE Jan 27, 2020

Authorities have located Lori and Chad in Hawaii. The children are not with them and there’s no evidence they were ever in Hawaii either, and the couple has again refused to tell police where they are. They have been given a child protection order, which requires Lori to physically produce Tylee and JJ to the Idaho Department of Health and Welfare in Rexburg or to the Rexburg Police within five days, otherwise she might be subject to civil or criminal contempt of court.

UPDATE FEB 11, 2020

The deadline passed, Tylee and JJ’s whereabouts are still unknown. We’ve learned a few things, though:

- In August 2019, about a month after Charles Vallow was murdered and shortly before Lori and her new husband moved from Arizona, where she lived with her kids, to Idaho, she gave away JJ’s service dog, even though he was vital for her son’s treatment. She tried to sell the dog, Bailey, first for 2.500, but ended up telling Bailey’s trainer to take him (x).

- Tylee’s cellphone was found in her mother’s possession in Hawaii. According to several sources, the phone has been used since Tylee was last seen in September, but a text sent to a friend didn’t sound like her (x). Her older brother Colby also got texts from Tylee until October, but would never be able to talk on the phone with him when he tried. Colby also found Tylee’s texting style back then different from usual (x).

- Between October and November 2019, Lori put all her kids’ belongings in a storing unit in Idaho (x).

- When Charles Vallow was murdered by her own brother, Lori told the news to his adult sons from a previous relationship by text, telling them only that their father had died and kept avoiding explaining how exactly he died (x).

So far no arrests have been made, despite Lori’s refusal to comply with a court order. Police are likely working on gathering enough evidence to be able to charge her with something.

Sources:

- Article Two Children are Missing from the Washington Post.

- A Timeline and Key Players from the Case (note that Charles Vallow’s date of death is wrong here)

- Charles allegations against Lori.

- Police comment on Tammy Daybell’s death and Lori’s older son begs her to come home.

- Police’s statement saying they believe the kids are in danger and that Lori knows where they are.

#true crime #tcoriginal #missing person #mystery #bizarre cases #lori vallow #chad daybell #joshua vallow #tylee ryan #current news

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1131

survey by lilprincess

Approx. Time you began this survey: 6:46 on a Wednesday evening.

Describe your mood right now: Erm, a bit exhausted because I just ended a work shift; but content for the same reason. Right now I’m simply looking forward to dinner and crashing on the couch or my bed, wherever I feel like sleeping tonight.

Spell your first name without vowels: Rbn. Let’s just also remove y for this one.

Age you will be on your next birthday: 23.

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Do you believe what your horoscope says about your sign? I do not believe in astrology whatsoever.

What state/region do you live in? Somewhere in the Philippines somewhere close to Metro Manila.

Height: Like 5′1″ ish. I had a massive growth spurt in 4th grade that also ended in 4th grade, which will always be a funny story to tell people lmao. I went from being placed at the back of the class line to the front really quickly.

Do you smoke? Super occasionally. My last cigarette was like...all the way back in February last year. It was easier to hide the smell around my family before, but because my parents and siblings have mostly been staying at home in the last year it would be so easy to weed out the smell. I never feel like smoking anyway since I vape, so there’s been no reason to seek it out.

Do you drink? Yeah, sometimes socially and sometimes on my own if I wanna unwind and feel a lil buzz come through.

What's your ethnic background? Southeast Asian, specifically Filipino.

What's your religious background? Technically my ~background~ would be Catholic since I was born and baptized in that faith, but I’ve long let go of this. Excluding one very brief period in high school, religion was something I never held much belief and faith in, even if I've been taken to literally every Sunday mass for the last 23 years and even if I was enrolled in Catholic school from preschool to high school.

What's your natural hair color? Black.

What;s your natural eye color? Dark brown, almost black.

Do you have any bad habits you want to break? I do overtime work a lot but used to seldom file it on our company shift log sheet because I get shy that they must think I’m doing it just to be paid more, lol. I’m starting to file them every time I do OT though because fuck it, pay me.

Name a few of your positive habits. I like that I always find a way to meet deadlines. I like that I’m selfless, even though some would see it as a flaw. I’d rather do too much than say I never did anything at all.

Have you ever lived in a foreign country? No, the most I’ve done was travel to one for a week.

Did you vote in the Nov. 6 2012 presidential election? No because I am not American -___- The last election that took place before I was eligible was in 2010, and had I been able to vote then, I would’ve given mine to Gibo Teodoro, who I believe was the most qualified at the time.

Are you even eligible to vote? Yeah, I’ve been for the last 5 years. I’ve voted twice - once for the presidential elections back in 2016, and the next was for the senatorial elections in 2019.

Are you right handed or left handed? Right-handed.

When you write, is your penmanship usually neat or do you tend to scribble? It starts off neat for the most part, but it gradually gets messy and becomes more like a scribble if we’re talking about writing several essays in one sitting, which was usually the case in my exams in college.

Have you ever experienced an accident? (of any type): Sure, I’ve been in car accidents before. I’ve also been shocked once.

Do you have/want children? They would be nice to have, yeah.

Are you environmentally conscious? For the most part, yeah. But there are some things that can’t be helped, like me driving. Unless the government does something about the shitty public transport system that we have and have had for decades, I refuse to take it.

What's your favorite mode of transportation? Like I said, my own car. If I’m traveling, by plane.

Do you prefer 80's - 90's music compared to today's music? Eh, not at all. I prefer music produced these days.

Are you more of an introvert (quiet/shy), or extrovert (social butterfly)? I’ve been more of an extrovert in the last few years but I will always be shy at first upon meeting new people, like that will never change. I warm up a lot quickly now, though.

What's your favorite emoticon? :)

Do you miss the good old days of hand-written letters? I caught the super super super last part of this era, so I didn’t even get to experience it. I know snail mail was still kind of a thing when I was a kid, but at the same time that was happening my mom was also already using email to keep in touch with my dad, so.

Nowadays, though, when I do write letters to loved ones, I will still prefer to make handwritten ones, especially for a significant other or best friend. I don’t think I’ve ever sent out a computerized long letter.

Do you enjoy receiving or giving more? Giving, but it’s nice to be treated too sometimes.

Are you good at keeping secrets? Sure.

Do you take or give advice more often? I don’t usually get into situations wherein I’d have to do either, but I think I’ve been asking for advice more, especially over the last few months.

Do you have your driver's license? “I got my driver’s license last week, just like we always talked about...” Haha this question made me sing a bit. Anyway, yeah, I got it shortly after I turned 18 since I needed to quickly learn before college started.

Would you rather be poor & happy or rich but miserable? Rich but miserable. Soz but I’d solve 4854983594857 of my problems if I never had to worry about money.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Never.

Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook? Probably not blocked, but I’ve unfollowed some current Facebook friends and unfriended others entirely.

Do you think recreational marijuana should be nationally legalized? Idk much about the topic since it’s taboo enough where I live, but sure, I guess?I haven’t heard one bad word about the effects of marijuana.

Describe your perfect first date. I’ve never really had a first date, but I imagine an ideal one would be pretty lowkey, just a stroll around a nice city and maybe have fancyish dinner somewhere.

Have you ever been high? Nope.

Have you ever watched a NC-17 rated film? Sure. A good handful of Kubrick films pass for NC-17, right? I’d be surprised if they weren’t, lol. I’ve been scarred by some of them for sure.

If you ever become reincarnated as an animal, what would you want it to be? A dog.

Do you remember where you were/what you were doing on September 11, 2001? No; I was 2 years old. I did ask my parents where they were in those moments, and my mom understandably missed most of it since the entire thing unfolded in the late evening in the Philippines. The only thing she can recall was being insanely worried for my dad, who had just started to work in the US back then.

Do you ever wish you were of a different nationality/religion? Yeah, to a certain extent, just because the political and socioeconomic situation here is very messy and it doesn’t really give us the nicest reputation in front of the world. I’m proud of my Filipino culture and heritage though.

Are you more of a junk food addict or health nut? Health nut is the last thing anyone should be calling me. But I’m not so much a junk food addict either? I do like spoiling myself with food, but I still monitor my intake.

Do you believe Antarctica should be considered the 7th world continent? Isn’t it already though?? We’ve always been taught there were 7 continents and Antarctica is one of them lol.

Describe your own sense of humor in 1 word: Gen-Z, if that counts as one word.

Have you ever quoted the Bible (or any other Holy Book)? If I ever did it was probably meant to be sarcasm.

Have you ever completed a Sudoku puzzle? No. Never figured out how to play it either.

Would you rather be a nuclear physicist or marine biologist? Marine biologist. That’s one step closer to one of my loves, biology. Plus I was never any good with physics, so.

Do you have a deep, dark secret you're hiding from every one? I guess.

Would you rather be able to soar like an eagle or swim like a dolphin? I’d make my childhood self happy and go with flight.

If you wanted to learn a foreign language, what would it be? Korean so I can finally stop reading subs, hahah.

Are you bi-curious? No.

Did you watch the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon more as a kid? The Nickelodeon cartoons were far more interesting to me. I think I only got into Disney when I got a little bit older, once I was able to appreciate the more mature content in shows like The Suite Life, That’s So Raven, etc. But for the most part our TV was always tuned into Nick Jr., Spongebob, Jimmy Neutron and the other Nick shows.

Name 5 films that were made the year you were born: American History X (great watch), The Truman Show, Mulan, La Vita e Bella if I’m not mistaken (one of my faves, no matter how gut-wrenching it is), and Shakespeare in Love.

Did you have a lot of friends in high school? Yes, eventually I did.

Do you rely more on the newspaper, Internet or TV as your news source? Social media these days since I find that online writers are far more discerning in their reporting than TV anchors, who stay neutral at best.

True or false: Bigger is better. Very vaguely put, but not always, I guess.

Do you think religion is the primary cause of war? No? There’ve been plenty other reasons for war.

What's your favorite pizza topping? ...Cheese.

Think of your wardrobe. What color do you wear the most? It’s still black, I think.

Have you ever been to a planetarium? Just once, on a middle school field trip. I’d love to come back, though.

Do you feel like you connect more with animals or other people? I don’t get to be with animals a lot other than my dogs, so I’ll go with people.

Do you feel like sometimes you have to lie in order to protect yourself? Wow so dramatically put haha but yeah, I suppose it does feel that way sometimes.

How often do you exercise? Literally never. I’ve stopped working out this year since I didn’t see the point, and I’ve stopped feeling like I had to ‘get back’ at my ex just by getting a more toned figure. I’m totally at peace with how my body looks, plus I never want to give up on my favorite foods and snacks lol so there’s that.

Can you swear in a different language? Putangina mong bobo kang gago ka. That’s three for ya.

Do you think teachers/doctors deserve to get paid more than pro athletes? Everyone deserves to be paid fairly to the point that no comparison should be necessary, period.

From a scale of 1- 5, you would rate this survey: Erm, a 4.5. I had to delete some questions I didn’t feel comfortable answering or that I found a little meh, but the rest I fairly enjoyed.

Do you think most of these questions were more original or more ordinary? It’s a bit in between.

Approx. time you completed this survey: Hahahahah 10:38 PM. I took a million breaks.

#survey #surveys

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minsimagines · 5 years ago

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lead me home | werewolf!v

summary: taehyung is a werewolf, and y/n knows wolves don’t belong in big cities.

a/n: i had this laying in a folder on my comuter and thought i’d share, then i read through it and cried so here you go, lmao.

words: 5k.

WARNING: super angst. like, super super angst. you might cry, you’ve been warned. heartbreak. mentions of nudity, mention of sex, a bit of blood.

★ ⋆ ✰ ✦ ☾ ✮ ⁎ ★ ⋆ ✰ ☾ ⁎ ✦ ✮ ⁎ ☾ ★ ⋆ ✰

You’d often find Taehyung by the window of your little apartment when you came home on the evenings, staring out at the city view, eyes glued to the mountains in the far distance. He’d brush it off as enjoying the scenery, that wonderful broad smile spreading over his lips almost distracting you, though you were left with a constant uneasy feeling in your chest.

The insane amount of homework added with the part time job you had at a small 24/7 shop would often occupy your mind, and though you felt awful, it had to be done. You couldn’t live if you didn’t work, and you would be stuck at the little shop for the rest of your life unless you finished your studies. Though it felt like a hundred years away, there were three more years.

Every day seemed to pass in a blur, everything melting together. The touch of his rough hands on your soft skin, his tight embraces and encouraging words, the sleepless nights, the late hours at the shop, the failed exams – you were about to go nuts. And it didn’t help that you felt so bad for leaving Taehyung by himself most of the day, and the feeling you had of stress from having to make time for him and your relationship as well.

He’d always pull you away from your studying to help you focus – to give you a break. Just a couple of minutes, but he would help you breathe and calm down and whenever he did, you’d feel so calm, like you were unstoppable. He was amazing at helping you relax. Especially when you were too stressed to function and you didn’t remember to eat or sleep, and you hunched over your notes crying.

“This is okay,” he’d whisper. “You’re strong and you’ll be fine, and you will do great even if the test didn’t go as planned.”

His kind hadn’t been one to speak to show love, or any other emotion for that sake, and though he knew you needed verbal communication as well, he could always just look at you, and you’d know. He understood. He always understood.

You’d watch Taehyung, as his mind drifted off, as he daydreamt of grass beneath his paws, of the smell of animals and flowers. You’d brush your fingers through his hair to calm him down after he jumped out of bed in the middle of the night, not understanding where he was. You’d crawl down from the bed when you awoke and found him asleep on the floor, and you’d sleep next against his body – the bed was too soft for him. You’d distract him when his skin and muscles were itching and yearning for a release and change you couldn’t even begin to fathom the pleasure of.

You’d drive him out into the countryside every full moon. To the top of the same hill, the open plains spreading out wide, ending in the forest off in the distance. That was where he went every time. You’d watch his grey fur as he ran through the tall, beige grass, his shape growing smaller and smaller until he was out of sight. There, he did what the animal in him needed to do – whatever that was.

He never spoke about it and you didn’t ask. He may have been hunting, he may have been meeting some of his own kind – you had a feeling you’d never know. And had you not had this unease in your chest, you might have asked him, but you wanted him to be free for those few hours. Free of the city, free of hiding, free of… free of you.

You knew, from the first time you’d seen his yellow eyes in between the trees as you visited your grandfather up on the mountains as a child, that you loved him. Maybe not in the way you did later on, but when you saw him for the first time, though foolish – you were not scared. You could not for the life of you figure out why; you had always had massive respect for wolves and other predators, yet his eyes had captured something inside you. He was only a puppy.

Your grandfather told you that though he was a puppy, he was a wild predator and predators followed instincts. He’d warned you about the wolf, though you had seen him leave left over after dinner outside when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

The young wolf had showed up outside of the cabin three evenings in a row, and on the fourth evening of your stay, as your grandpa had fallen asleep on the couch watching TV, you’d sat out on the bench in front of the house, watching the view of the valley below the cabin, short legs dangling. The river, the hills, the trees. The wolf had sat a bit behind you, watching the view with you. You’d noticed him, but you didn’t’ move. Didn’t say a word. You didn’t see him, though you heard him come. You knew he was there. When you turned, after the sun had set, he was gone.

Whenever your grandfather was busy, or if he drove into town to buy groceries, you’d run outside in your rubber boots and you’d sit patiently in the grass, legs crossed, doll in hand. You’d let him approach you, and you’d let him nudge your knee with his snout. You’d throw your doll and he’d catch it and bring it back.

You’d loved how free he was. How he ran around wherever he wanted. How he would chase birds and jump into puddles.

You had seen the wolf again when you were an awkward teenager. He had even sat outside your room in the cabin a whole night, and you had sat in the deep windowsill, watching him, though you weren’t as adventurous as you had been as a child. You were more scared. It was a wild wolf, and you had no intentions of ending up as dinner.

He’d saved you from being trampled by a frightened elk as you were taking a walk, trying to get reception on your phone. He’d ran in and shoved the elk out of the way with the side of his huge body, and though you had frozen in fear of the sight, his gaze clashed with yours as the elk ran off, and he had understood. He didn’t approach. He slowly backed away and disappeared between the trees once again. ⋆

“Are you hungry?” You asked Taehyung, who turned away from the view of the city and hit you with a dashing smile.

“Always,” he muttered, striding over to you in the kitchen half of the small apartment. Hands wrapped around your waist, drawing a smile and a small chuckle from your lips at his words.

“It’s the full moon tomorrow,” you said, trying to sound chirpy, yet the sour feeling in your chest was heavier than ever. He had spent more time by the window, more time touching you than he ever had, more time praising you, loving you and though you loved him to bits, it was making you dread your plan for the approaching full moon. This was your life. Not his.

“I know,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before he left you to make dinner. You always cooked – not because he didn’t want to help, but you liked it. Your mother had loved to make food, and making dinner made you feel somewhat closer to her, even if she wasn’t around anymore.

“The neighbors are fighting,” he noted from the couch, eyes glued to the television. You were about to answer when you noticed he was watching a documentary about animals. An aching spread through your chest as you were once again reminded of how little he belonged in your world, and how much he probably missed his own.

“Yeah?” You uttered, trying to sound like you normally did. His eyes had met yours in question, clearly picking up on the different tone. You’d cleared your throat and sent him a broad smile. It seemed to fool him as he smiled back to you and turned his attention to the TV again.

“Yeah. She won’t have sex with him,” he said, and your eyes snapped towards him in surprise. Even after 7 months, you were still surprised at how straight forwards he was. Also, how keen his hearing was. And his other senses.

“That’s… something,” you mumbled.

“Hey, you know that uhm, those things you gave me yesterday? What are they called?” He asked, eyes peering over at you in curiosity. You glanced at him, though it hurt to do so.

“The grapes?” You asked, turning your attention back to the food.

“Yes, grapes,” he chuckled as he laid down, long legs kicking out on the couch. The sight, compared to him in the fields, had you looking away again.

⋆

You’d driven to your grandfather’s cabin after he, together with your mother and father, had passed away in a car accident. It had been over a year since it happened, and you had finally gathered the courage and strength to take two weeks off to go up there to pack up the cabin and prepare it for new owners.

You had forgotten about your childhood friend, though it all came back to you as you found those yellow eyes watching you from the shadows of the trees once again. He was still there, even bigger than you remembered; he’d grown massive, almost concealed by the darkness, though you could see his shape.

Like when you were young, he would show up on the evenings, like a giant guard dog, watching over the house. You’d put out something for him to eat one night and had been happy to find the bowl empty the next day.

You’d only found out about his human half when the wolf, that evening, came limping and bloody onto the property. You walked out to meet him in horror at his state, when his body had contorted, twisted in on itself. You were certain you could never forget the sight. On the ground before your feet laid a man, skin dirty and hair messy.

His body had been almost torn apart with wounds as you, though scared, crouched besides him and gently brushed his brown bangs out of his eyes. They cracked open and looked at you in tired desperation, that same yellow still lingering in his human irises, though blended with a soft brown shade. His wounds were shaped like bitemarks and deep scratches.

It took a while, but he managed to stumble into the cabin with your help, and you did the best you could with the little you had. You hadn’t brought any form of first aid up onto the mountain. You’d helped him into a pair of your grandfather’s old pair of pajama pants and onto the couch.

You stayed awake by his side that night, brushing sweat away from his forehead and upper body with a cold cloth. He slipped in and out of consciousness, and each time he had tried to sit up in panic until his eyes met yours and he relaxed back down.

He was gone when you woke up. Bright sunlight hitting your face, body resting against the couch. You’d gone outside right away, eyes darting around the field in front of you and down into the valley. On the bench laid your grandfather’s pants, neatly folded.

⋆

“By the way, how did the test go today?” He muttered against your shoulder as he joined you in bed, his inhuman warmth engulfing your tired body.

“I think it went better than the last one,” you whispered, turning to face him. His eyes glowed in the dark of the room, and you were spellbound.

“You’re really beautiful,” you said, and though it was dark, you could make out the bright smile on his face.

“Do you miss the mountain?” You asked. The words slipped out before you could stop yourself and you dreaded the answer. He was horrible at hiding his emotions, though he didn’t know he was, so when he lied; you knew – but he didn’t know you knew.

“Sometimes,” he’d say, his eyes growing sad, though the smile was still there. “But I like being with you more.”

You knew he meant what he had said, he would have never left with you unless he did. He wanted to be with you, and you knew that – but he had an instinct in him that would forever be stronger than anything a human could ever understand. He was a wolf, a wild predator, he wasn’t a dog meant to be kept in an apartment and let out every now and then – he was a magical creature. He wasn’t meant to be tame like this.

“You can tell me if you do, you know,” you whispered, wanting him both to admit it and to lie to spare you from the pain. Both would hurt equally. “It was your home, after all.”

“I…” he hesitated. You knew he did. It was a silly question. It was his home, of course he missed it!

“I miss it,” he admitted. and you felt something, almost a relief washing over you. You had been right.

“I want you to be happy,” he added, his voice tired, and you didn’t answer him. Your fingers running steadily through his hair.

He fell asleep before you did, and your smile had long vanished. He was kicking his foot every now and then, and you knew he was dreaming of the grass. ⋆

He had come back that evening, as the sun was setting over the valley and you were crouched by a flowerbed by the wall of the cabin, picking at the weeds. You’d almost thrown your little shovel in the air in surprise at his appearance, though as you stood and looked at him, you couldn’t believe it was the same man that had been inside your cabin that whole night. His body was completely fine. Though red where the worst of gashes had been, he seemed to have healed and was left with only scars to tell the tale.

“Hello,” you’d said, trying to sound confident.

“Hello,” he’d replied, and you’d frowned at the state of his voice. It was deep and raspy, scratching at his throat as he spoke. He hadn’t spoken in a long time. You had wanted to ask what had attacked him, but you didn’t.

You’d sat outside on the bench each evening, and he’d show up to accompany you. Some nights you’d talk, others you’d just sit and enjoy the view and sounds. You grew unbearably close. You’d known your departure was coming up in a few days’ time, but you’d also felt a pull towards him that you couldn’t understand.

He’d told you he thought his name was Taehyung, though he wasn’t sure anymore, he hadn’t used a name since he was young. You’d smiled and said you loved it. The smile on his lips, after hearing your words, had almost knocked you out of your mind.

He’d told you stories about where he was from, what he was. Stories that, had you not known better, you’d think were from another world. Magic and wonder, though you always had a feeling he was holding back. You never pushed him. He told you wonderful stories about soulmates and how every werewolf had one, and fairies who were not as friendly as our stories had them.

His sweet nature, his goofy smile, his curiosity about anything you told him about, was drawing you closer and closer to him and you could listen to his deep voice day in and day out. He was straight forward, asking about you and why you were there, not really seeming to grasp the idea of the sadness of your family’s death, other than the fact that he had liked your old grandpa when he had been alive and that he missed the left overs he’d set out for him before he died.

You had felt so lost when you realized you were falling in love with him, though you weren’t afraid; you knew your feelings were mutual. He wasn’t… shy.

His animalistic approach to romantic gestures had caught you off guard. Not used to the norms of socialized humans, he leant into your neck one night, arms wrapping tightly around your body. Had you not felt like you were utterly safe in his hands, you might have pushed him off.

You didn’t.

He had asked you if it was alright, a whisper in your ear, and you had barely managed to nod your head in the trance you were in. He’d later told you he knew you wanted him to touch you. Said he could smell it on you. He could smell your desire.

Sharp teeth had gently graced the skin on your throat, sending ripples of shivers through your body, which he seemed to enjoy very much. He had inhaled deeply, taking in your scent and was about to – had you not stopped him – rip your clothes to shreds. You’d pulled his face towards yours, your lips gently pressing against his. He had, at first, not understood what you were doing, though with a little guidance, he had come around.

When you’d woken up the next morning, sky light blue in the sunrise, body nude and spent, though as happy as you’d ever been; he was gone again. Your heart had dropped to the bottom of your stomach as you’d stumbled into a pair of sweats and thrown a t-shirt over your head as you’d ran downstairs, tears welling on your eyes, only to see him outside on the bench. Running outside, you’d stood panting in distress, staring at him with desperate eyes.

As if knowing exactly what you were feeling, he gave you a soft smile as he stood up. He was wearing your grandfather’s pajama pants, and though they fit him, you grew confused. He hadn’t wanted to wear clothes the whole week you’d known him as a human.

“It’s today,” he had said, and you’d swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he was referring to. The weeks, though it had felt like a decade, had ended.

⋆

His sweet laugh had rung through the apartment as you entered the living room on midday, ready to leave for the countryside. It was the night of the full moon.

His laugh was contagious, and he never laughed at the right times, though it made your heart soar with joy. He didn’t get jokes or puns, though he loved slapstick comedy. That, he understood. He understood anything physical.

He wasn’t made for the city.

“What are you watching?” You asked, leaning against the couch, trying to distract yourself from the heartbreaking thoughts running through your mind.

“I don’t know,” he’d laughed, shaking his shoulders. You’d almost burst into tears, the pain in your chest making it hard to breathe properly, though you had to try; he would hear something was wrong if you weren’t breathing normally.

Your wonderful protector. Your loving, beautiful Taehyung. Your magical and caring lover. You bit the inside of your cheeks, avoiding his eyes as you got ready to leave.

You drove him through the massive city, through the crowded streets and the jungle of concrete and tall buildings. The ride was quiet. But not just the usual quiet; you could often spend hours in silence and not feel out of place. This silence was heavy. As if there were words that needed to be said between the two of you, clear as day, yet none of you dared to speak them out loud. Out through the suburbs and far into the quiet countryside, further than you’d ever driven before, you parked the car off road, and you stood by him on a hill by open plains and fields of tall grass as his eyes closed, head tilted back to smell the air.

This was his life. Not yours. ⋆

Once you had come over the initial shock of him not having left you, you’d nodded your head and whispered that yes, that day would be the last day in the cabin. You’d be leaving for the city again, and the cabin would be sold to someone else who wanted to take care of it.

He’d begged you to stay. He’d begged you to be with him and let him protect you. His deep voice had brought fresh tears to your eyes, his vows and promises of hunting for you and helping you in any way he could, whatever he could do to make you stay there with him.

You’d told him that you couldn’t. You had only those two weeks off, and you told him that it hurt just as much for you, but you couldn’t give up your life in the city. Your parents had paid for your university before they had passed away, and you couldn’t just drop out and leave the apartment behind. It would crush your heart to give up the closest thing you still had to them, the things they left behind, even if your feelings for Taehyung felt like something from another world.

And he had hugged you so tight as you’d burst into tears, sobbing, torn in half. You’d found love, or what could become love, and you didn’t belong together. Taehyung, though a bit held back, convinced you to believe in it. He’d stroked your hair and reassured you, saying you were meant to be, but you had heard the hesitation in his voice even back then. You had refused to acknowledge it.

“I promise I’ll come back and see you,” you’d uttered in a breath, on your knees outside your cabin. He was next to you, holding you. You’d pushed away to look up at him with tear stained eyes, knowing full well you weren’t going to be able to come back in a long time.

“I’ll come with you,” he had muttered then, after a long pause. Your face had dropped in confusion. He would come with you? But he had nothing to go to, nothing he knew, nothing to do.

“What?” You’d whispered, your tears halting.

“I’ll come with you,” he repeated, sounding more certain the second time around.

You had told him no. He was wild, he was of the forest and the grass and the wilderness, he wasn’t made to live in the city, and you had told him no. As much as you’d loved the idea of being with him, he was meant to be out in the wild.

Your words had only seemed to fuel him further. He wanted to go. He would go, he said. He would be with you. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to touch you and smell you and listen to your wonderful voice.

After much debate, you’d made it clear to him that you did want the same thing, you just didn’t think he had really wanted to leave. You wanted to be with him more than anything.

So, he came with you. He put on a sweater, and he helped you pack the car. You’d watched him with careful eyes. His strong body, covered by the clothes… you weren’t a pervert, but it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t him – he wasn’t human like you. You swallowed and bit it back, sending him a smile when he looked at you.

He’d showered before you left, and you’d almost sent him out into the fields to roll around. You missed the patches of dirt on his cheeks and the wild waves of his messy brow hair, but you bit it back. He was still the same person. He was the wonderful, magical person you were falling in love with. And you convinced yourself it was the right thing to take him with you.

It wasn’t that hard to incorporate him in the life of the city. He was curious by nature, and everything was entertaining. He loved all the flashing lights, all the sounds and the smells and all the strange people wearing strange clothes. He adapted fast, and he seemed to like it – and though you knew it wasn’t his life, you convinced yourself it could be. ⋆

You stepped away from the car, your eyes wandering over the fields. This was it. This was the place. It was breathtaking, and it was closer to your grandfather’s cabin; he could find his way home from where you were standing. Turning to look at him, he was watching you with an expression you hadn’t seen before, though it made you feel warm and safe and you knew you had made the right decision.

You stepped towards him, like you usually did before he changed, and you hugged him, wrapping your arms around his torso, pressing your palms against his upper back, squeezing your eyes shut. You breathed in deeply as he wrapped his arms around you, and ran his fingers through your hair, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You stepped back and cupped his cheek with your hand. His eyes were soft. Understanding. He knew. It almost set you back, noticing the familiar gaze. He had known the whole time.

He pulled his sweater over his head, folding it neatly in his hands, before he handed it to you. He did the same with his pants, and you held them to your chest. He never wore shoes.

As his bones began to crack under the light of the full moon, you looked away as his beautiful face morphed to that of an equally breathtaking predator. The piercing eyes, the sharp claws and teeth; he could tear you apart in an instant, yet he never touched a hair on your body with anything but loving hands.

As the cracking receded, you turned to look at him with an aching chest. You didn’t need him to speak to know what his eyes were asking you. His big, yellow, loving orbs boring into yours, glowing in the dark. Your bottom lip quivered, and you bit down on it to conceal your emotions. With a small nod of your head, you curled your arms around the clothes tighter, telling him it was okay. Telling him to go. To be free.

He gave you a deep nod of his big head, staring at you for a couple second longer, before he turned to run off. You watched him as he ran, his strong legs pushing away underneath him, his big form disappearing over the plains faster than any animal you had ever seen. Beautiful fur bouncing as he ran, glistening in the moon light. A shaky breath left your lips as your knees shivered under your weight, tears welling in your eyes, your heart breaking.

You watched him run, and his bright smile flashed in your mind. His laugh, his touch, the wonder in his eyes as he spoke about the world, the wild and the freedom he was from. Where he belonged. Where he could live with his own kind. The way his fingers had desperately tried to braid your hair, the way his body pressed against yours when he was uncertain of the life in the city, the way his lips would leave your skin burning and tingling in pleasure, the way he never backed down from a challenge. He was free again now.

You knew he understood. He always had. He knew this would happen as well, you were sure of it, though it didn’t make it easier. He knew you loved him, and he knew you would forever keep him in your heart just as he would keep you with him. The pain in your chest was impossible to describe; your whole body throbbed in pain as you watched him disappear into the forest far away, and it wasn’t long before you were sobbing against the ground.

A sob wrecked through your body, a silent scream leaving your lungs. You could barely breathe as you cried, though you desperately wiped at your eyes, knowing this was the best for him. Knowing that if you stayed longer, you would be tempted to go after him, to be selfish and take him back. Beg him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay – but you had tried that already. You had taken him, and you had let him tell you things were going to be okay. He had left his world for you, yet it didn’t work. It wasn’t right.

Tears blurring your vision, you pushed yourself off the ground, his clothes pressed to your chest. You held them up to your nose, taking in a deep breath of his scent, squeezing your eyes shut.

They snapped open when the sound of a howl, his howl, broke through the air. You could see him, in the distance, on a small hill, barren of trees, howling towards the moon, and you somehow knew he was talking to you. You felt like he was besides you, holding you again, patting your head and telling you that you still loved each other. That love didn’t have to be this way or that way, and that you were both still alive. Telling you to live on, that he would be fine.

Telling you to go. To be free.

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holidaywishes · 5 years ago

Text

It Had To Be You XXXVIII

Chapter Thirty Eight: Sad Song

Summary: Fast forward six months and the new Preseason is just about to start. After a rough playoff loss, Tyler wants this season to be better and he has some ideas on how to make everything go smoothly.

Warning: I guess because this song is so cheesy and sweet, there’s going to be a lot of fluff in this chapter, this one’s also got a few time jumps as well.

Author’s Note: I don’t really know where I’m going with this series anymore. I think I’m trying to stretch it out to 50 chapters but it all depends on how I’m feeling obviously. Just know that I have a thing with odd numbers. That is to say, I will only end on an even number or a multiple of 5 (45, 50, 55, etc.) But this one will be another short chapter (and I’ll admit this is really not my favourite) but I’ll probably put two out back to back since I have something in my head and I’m literally not doing anything else, so why not? Anyway, I hope you like whatever comes from the rest of this series, ENJOY!

P.S. This chapter took a little longer than I thought it would but I have some clearer ideas of what the next like four-ish chapters are going to be so that’s exciting.

P.P.S. I wanted to update the timeline because this chapter has a lot of time jumps as did the last chapter. So here’s a quick recap of the whole series:

Part I: September 2013

Part II: November 2013

Part III: January 2015

Parts IV and V: May-June 2015

Part VI: June 2015/January 2016

Part VII: January 2016/June 2016/November 2016

Part VIII: November 2016

Part IX: December 2016

Part X: January 2017

Part XI: February-August 2017

Part XII: September-November 2017

Part XIII: mid-November-December 2017

Part XIV: January-February 2018

Part XV: March-April 2018

Part XVI: April-June 2018

Part XVII: July 2018

Part XVIII: July-November 2018

Parts XIX, XX and XXI: December 2018

Parts XXII: December-January 2019

Part XXIII, XXIV, XXV and XXVI: January 2019

Part XXVII: late January-March 2019

Parts XXVIII and XXIX: March 2019

Part XXX: late-March/April-May 2019

Part XXXI: May-November 2019

Part XXXII: January 2020

Part XXXIII: late January 2020

Parts XXXIV and XXXV: August 2020

Part XXXVI: October-Early November 2020

Part XXXVII: March 2021

Part XXXVIII (this chapter): July/September 2021/January 2022 (yup I did that)

Song Credit: Sad Song -- We the Kings & Elena Coats

masterlist

the other masterlist

After the whole quarantine last year, and the season being cancelled, Tyler wanted the next to be better but after being knocked out in the first round he wasn’t in the best mood for a few months. He spent every waking minute training during the summer, except for his seemingly annual trip to the Bahama’s with the guys.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked when you said you’d stay behind and watch the dogs

“I’ve gotta work,” you replied, pushing yourself up to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, “plus, I think you need some time with your boys to let loose. As long as you don’t let loose too much...”

“Don’t worry, babe,” he replied, pecking your lips between words, “we’ll really just be playing a lot of golf. You know how it goes..” You sent him off with one last kiss and sent him an ‘I love you’ text before he got on the plane. You felt completely secure with Tyler lately but maybe that had to do with the fact that two of you had survived four months in self-isolation together. Whatever it was, you weren’t nervous about spending a week away from each other.

Tyler’s week away proved to be just what he needed to get his spirits up but as soon as he was back in Dallas, the two of you decided to head up to Brampton to see his family but it was over just as quickly as it began and it was time for the preseason to start. It was a pretty easy start to the season with the Stars winning 7 of their 8 preseason games which left Tyler with a huge grin on his face and he told you he was very positive for the rest of the city.

“I have a good feeling about this season, you know?” he said, rinsing the dishes as you washed down the counter, “I feel like this could be our year.”

“I think you guys are looking good out there but--” Tyler put his finger in front of your mouth to stop you from continuing

“Don’t jinx it. We’re looking good and we’ll continue to look good because we’re in this for the long run.” He said, raising his eyebrows intensely so you got his point and you just smiled before nodding and walking away. You were happy he was so confident about the season especially after everything that happened and seeing him so excited made you excited for the season.

“Hey, Ty,” you called from the couch, “you’re turning 30 in January. How do you want to celebrate?”

“That’s a while from now, I haven’t thought about it..”

“Well think about it!” you laughed, “I know the season will be like in ‘full swing’ or whatever, but maybe we can do something during Bye Week? It’s a big year you know?”

“Yeah, another year older..” he sighed and slumped next to you on the couch, “I’m getting to be an oldie. I’ll be vintage soon...”

“Oh stop,” you nudged, “vintage? I have a hard time thinking you’ll ever be vintage. It’s just a birthday. If you don’t want to celebrate it, we don’t have to. But I’ll have you know, men get sexier as they age.” you said, moving towards him to kiss his neck, “It’s actually very annoying.” He kissed you back

“I’ll think about it,” he smiled and you tucked yourself into his side, “but for right now, let’s figure out something to watch.” As the two of you settled in and started some action movie you were sure you wouldn’t pay attention to, you caught yourself looking up at Tyler for the billionth time, “what?” he laughed

“What?” you responded

“I can feel you staring at me,” he continued, still not returning your gaze, “do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you smiled, “I just like looking at you.” When he finally looked at you, your stomach filled with butterflies and you felt the need to bury your head in his chest; looking back up at him just in time to see his smile stretch across his face.

“I like looking at you too.” He said, leaning his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. You reveled in it for a minute before finally saying anything

“I’ll never get tired of that” you giggled and he smiled against your lips before continuing to kiss you.

Tyler’s P.O.V

You hated that you couldn’t be with (Y/N) and the dogs on your birthday again this year, especially because things seemed to be going so well, so you figured out a way for her to be with you in

“Boston?” she said, a hint of confusion in her voice over the phone

“That’s where we’ll be on my birthday,” you replied, “there are some great spots though.”

“I went once,” she said, nonchalantly, “it was beautiful. But I mean.. Bruins fans run rampant” she laughed and you knew then that she would meet you there.

“So you’ll be there?” you asked

“If I get to see you, I’ll be wherever you ask.” You could hear her smile over the phone and your smile grew in return

“Good,” you laughed, “I’ll see you in a couple days. Love you”

“Love you, too.” You ended the call only to turn around to your teammates waiting to chirp you

“Ooooh, Tyler and (Y/N) sittin’ in a tree,” they started, “k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marr--”

“Alright, alright. That’s enough guys.” They laughed and you smiled as you found your way back to your seat beside Rads and Jamie.

“She’s coming to spend your birthday with you? That’s sweet” Jamie said

“Well...” you hesitated, “I’m thinking of proposing to her!”

“On your birthday?” Jamie asked and Rads gave you a sideways glance

“Yeah...” you answered, “I mean we’ll already be out to dinner and I love her, so..”

“You think you’re ready?” Rads asked and you took a second to answer

“Yeah”

“What if she says no? Then your birthday is like forever tainted by that” Jamie challenged

“It’s still my birthday, it won’t be tainted. Forever.”

“She’s a great girl and you seem really happy with her,” Rads interrupted, “I like her and I like her for you. But just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.” You took a second to think about what he was saying but you couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d be in that moment and what the rest of your life would look like with her.

“Thanks Rads,” you finally said, “it’s alright though. I want her in my lie forever. I can’t imagine a day without her there.”

You showed up at the Boston airport and waited for instructions from Tyler when he sent you a text with directions to his hotel

“Am I suppose to get my own room or find my way to yours?” you replied as you got into the cab and told the driver the address

“Don’t worry, I got you a room but it’s close to mine” he said

“Sounds good, it’s under my name?”

“Yes. I’m heading to practice, so I won’t be there when you check in but I’ll call you when I’m out. I made reservations at 6 so you’ll have to be ready”

“What kind of place is it? What if I didn’t pack anything fancy?”

“I have something for you. I’m always prepared”

“Well you’re lucky. I figured you might do something like this so I brought a dress”

“Thinking ahead, I like it” he joked and you rolled your eyes

“I have to or you’ll get me something wayyyy too revealing”

“The amount of revealing it would be is debatable.” You let him go after that by sending him an eye roll GIF and he sent back a laughing emoji. A couple hours later, you started getting ready for whatever Tyler had planned, deciding whether you should curl or straighten your hair when he called you

“Hey babe,” he said happily, “you almost ready? I’m just about to jump in the shower so I wanted to check in”

“I’m almost ready. I’ll be ready by the time you’re out of the shower so I could meet you in yo-”

“NO” he blurted out, “I want to pick you up.”

“Fine,” you laughed, “I’ll be ready soon. Go take your shower, I love you.”

Tyler’s P.O.V.

You finished getting ready, making sure to do a quick pep talk to yourself in the mirror.

“You got this dude. You love her, she loves you.” You smiled and made sure you had everything you needed, careful not to forget the ring, and headed over to (Y/N)’s room.

“Just a second!” she called after you knocked on her door, fidgeting with your suit jacket while you waited. When she opened the door, your mouth dropped at the sight of her in a beautiful blue dress and she smiled before spinning around for you to get a complete look at the outfit, “what do you think?”

“You look.. stunning,” you smiled, “guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pack anything for you isn’t it?” She smiled to herself, shaking her head as she grabbed her purse. The two of you laughed and she took your hand as the two of you headed to the car.

“What do you have planned?” she asked as she put on some music

“A nice dinner, I’ll take you to some of my favourite places in the city,” you said, intertwining your fingers with hers to kiss the back of her head, “nothing too crazy.” She smiled at you and tried, the whole way to the restaurant, to guess where you were taking her or what you were planning. You pulled up in front of the restaurant and a valet opened her door

“Oooh,” you smiled as you heard her speak to the valet, “isn’t this fancy?” You met her on the sidewalk, thanking the valet and tipping him before taking (Y/N)’s hand to go inside. When she sat down, she browsed the menu and you tried not to give away how nervous you were about what you had planned for later in the night.

“Anything look good?” you asked about the menu

“Still looking..” she smiled. You ordered her favourite drink when the server came by to grab your orders, “ahh I get it” she said as the server left

“What?” you said suddenly

“You’re trying to be ‘the big man’ tonight. Coming to a fancy restaurant with valets, ordering my favourite drink,” she smiled and you let out a sigh, “who you trynna impress, Seguin?”

“Only you,” you answered, “always you.” The rest of the meal was filled with smiles from both of you; you watched as her eyes lit up when she talked about her job, her smile shine when you talked about how you felt about the team and the way the season was going and listened to her laugh that you couldn’t imagine not hearing everyday. You kept Rads’ words in the back of your head though, ‘just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.’

“Would you like a dessert menu?” the server asked when he noticed there was a break in the conversation. You were prepared for her to say no, or to defer to you, but instead she said yes and that was the moment you knew she was comfortable with you. It was a small moment, a small thing, but it made everything so much clearer. You paid the bill and thanked the staff, guiding (Y/N) out to the car by placing your hand on the small of her back. You took her to the aquarium and watched her eyes follow the fish and tried to catch her as she chased the manta rays before eventually stopping in front of the shark tank.

“We may be slightly overdressed for this place” you laughed, noticing the stares the two of you were getting

“Do you ever wonder what they’re thinking?” she said, completely ignoring your statement

“What?” you asked

“Like are they sad? Do they know where they are? Do they wonder where their friends are? Or their families? Do they like it here? Are they happy?” You smiled at her thought process, “did you know that Sharks adapt to fit their environment? So like if there was a Great White Shark here, it would only grow to fit comfortably in the tank but in the ocean it would grow much bigger. That’s why you hear of like 30ft sharks.” She finished, eyebrows raised when she looked at you and you smiled while your eyes danced between hers.

“Is any of that actually true?” you asked and she smiled at you

“I don’t know,” she confessed, “it could be. It sounds like it should be, doesn’t it?” She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and continued walking, “and,” she added, “who cares if we’re overdressed.” She winked at you, as if to say ‘I’m always paying attention,’ and you shared the smile that she gave you. There was one last place you wanted to go before it got dark and it was the perfect spot for the proposal. A park with a beautiful river running through and a clear view of the Boston skyline. Sure, it was public but it wasn’t overly crowded so it had just enough of people for (Y/N) to have at least one picture of the proposal without feeling overwhelmed.

“Wow, Ty,” she said lightly, “this place is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” She smiled at you and, with her hair blowing in the wind and the sun beginning to set, you knew it was the perfect time.

“(Y/N),” Tyler said when your back was turned, “I need to get this out so don’t say anything until I’m finished okay?” You giggled at his statement but slowly turned around to face him, surprised when you saw him on one knee

“Ty, what are you doing?” you said

“I love you,” he started and your eyes grew wide, “ When we first met, I was so focused on being the best for Dallas, to start fresh after Boston, that you were just some girl. I didn’t think of you really that way, until I saw you with James; I just wanted to see you happy because you deserved that, I just hated that it had to be with him. But now here we are, having chosen each other after all the crap we’ve been through. Together and apart. I know we’ve had some rough times but you’ve always been the person I want to be with. The one I want to wake up next to. Every time we’re apart, whether I’m on the road or your visiting Chris in Calgary, I feel like I’m missing something because I am. You. You’re my favourite part of me and I can’t imagine a day without you. (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?” You stood in front of Tyler for a few minutes, in a state of shock that left you silent when you noticed a few people start to huddle around you and Tyler, who hadn’t moved at all

“Yes” you whispered, a smile starting to grow on your face

“What?” he said jokingly, a smile dancing on his lips

“Of course I’ll marry you!” you exclaimed and he slid the ring on your finger before picking you up and kissing you, you breaking the kiss only to laugh at the round of applause the two of you got. He put you down and waved to the crowd as you buried yourself in his chest out of embarrassment.

“I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, tucking yourself into his side while the two of you continued to walk through the park, “I can’t believe you actually proposed.”

“Why?” he asked, in fake shock

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought you were the marrying kind” you admitted

“I wasn’t,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “until you.”

“Well, happy birthday Mr. Seguin” you joked

“Thank you,” he replied, “and thank you for saying ‘yes’ on my birthday. The guys were convinced that if you said no it would’ve tainted the day forever”

“I’m surprised you did it on your birthday. I mean, the guys are right. It’s a risk.” You laughed and he shrugged his shoulders

“It was worth it.”

#Tyler Seguin #It Had To be You #it had to be you series #Tyler Seguin imagine #tyler seguin series #masterlist #the other masterlist #no idea when or how this will end anymore #i had an idea but now i don't #i guess that's how it goes #prepare for some short chapters #after this one obviously

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the-fixation-zone · 4 years ago

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Hello!!! It has truly been a while since a new chapter of The Boys has gone up and, unfortunately, it’ll be a longer while yet until a new one. Life has gotten in the way (for me, tbh, and for that i apologize). BUT there is one we (me and @queenspinoodle) have to offer you! Chapter 7! New characters, and more plot. We hope you enjoy :) as always, reblogs and comments are life giving actions and don’t forget to check out the art within the fic!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Within two days, the boys have figured out where the graffiti artist lives and set up a plan to find and talk to him. Now all they have to do is put the plan into motion.

Sock is hanging out outside of Katt and Baaang's shared tent, playing with Baaang's dog, Appa. Katt and Baaang are sitting at the entrance of their tent, talking.

Zucchini walks up to Sock, ignoring Katt and Baaang. "Hey, Sock, can I talk to you a sec?"

"Oh, uh…" Sock glances over at Katt and Baaang. Katt narrows her eyes at Zucchini and crosses her arms. "Sure, one sec."

Sock gets up and walks over to his sister and her boyfriend. "Hey, Zucchini needs help setting up for tomorrow's performance. I'll be right back."

Baaang smiles and nods. "I'm glad to see you guys are getting along now!" Sock laughs awkwardly and walks back over to Zucchini.

Zucchini gives Baaang a smile back that looks more like a grimace. “Yeah. Getting along.” He leaves the camp without a backwards glance.

Once out, he turns to Sock with a deep breath. “You ready?”

"As I'll ever be," Sock says, pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal his undercover attire underneath.

Zucchini nods. “Great. Let’s go.” He hesitates a moment. “Did you… like the books I lent you?”

"Yes!" Sock says with a grin. "I've actually finished them already."

Zucchini does a double take. “Wait, what? Already? Don’t you sleep?”

Sock laughs kindheartedly. "I do sleep, but I also have a lot more free time than you."

“Fair enough,” Zucchini says, smiling softly. They walk on, going to the alley they had agreed on. “So, what’s the plan?”

"We put on our masks," Sock hands Zucchini his mask and puts on his own, "and wait until we see which house they enter. Then we follow them in… like crooks."

“Alright…” Zucchini takes the mask, swinging it on his finger. “I hope they live alone.”

"If they don't, we'll just pretend we're lost." Sock ducks behind the wall as the person they suspected to be the graffiti artist comes walking down the road and enters their house.

“Let’s do a little recon first. Peep through the windows, see what they do.” Zucchini looks for a window at an appropriate height to look in. Finding one, he looks over the sill, watching their suspect putter around the living room. “I don’t see anyone else, can you?”

"Nope."

“Excellent. Let’s go.” Zucchini moves towards the door, lock picking equipment ready in case it’s needed. The door, however, is thankfully open. Apparently, their artist isn’t big on security.

Sock hesitates a moment. Do they just walk in? Do they bust through the door? Do they knock? He turns to Zucchini. "You first."

Zucchini nods, putting his mask on. He turns the doorknob slowly, pushing the door and willing it not to creak. He’s in luck, and it doesn’t. He slips into the house, glancing around. The front room is empty and he can hear some shuffling in the next room over, down the hall. He points towards it so Sock knows.

Sock gives a double thumbs up and moves as quietly as he can, following Zucchini.

Zucchini walks on tiptoes towards the next room, poking his head around the corner. He raises an eyebrow at the sight he’s met with.

A short, slim man with bright orange facial hair stands in the kitchen with his back to Zucchini and Sock. He’s wearing a loud shirt matched with even louder pants, making Zucchini wonder how they’d missed him in the first place.

He pulls his head back and points with his thumb, indicating Sock should take a look. “That’s our guy?” he says in a hushed voice.

Sock cranes his head around to take a look. "Looks like it," he whispers. "He has a great sense of style," Sock says without a single trace of sarcasm.

Zucchini tries to hold in an eye roll and fails. Shaking his head, he sneaks into the kitchen and stands behind and to the side of the man, indicating Sock should come in and take the other side.

Sock does just that. Atleast, he tries. He ends up tripping over the rug on the floor. The guy turns around and looks at him. Sock says the only thing he can think of. "Um… I love your pants!"

"Thanks, man! I love my pants, too!" the artist replies.

Zucchini does his best not to face palm. He succeeds, barely. “We’ve got a couple questions for you, Mr. …?” He looks at the guy, raising his eyebrows to prompt a name. He hopes he’s caught off-guard enough to actually answer.

"Call me Vitriol! What can I answer for you?" This guy is extremely chill for someone whose house was just broken into.

“Oh, uh, um,” Zucchini says, thrown at the geniality being sent his way. “Well, we--I’m sorry, does this happen often? People breaking into your house and asking you questions?”

"In a manner of speaking, sure. My home is open to all, and I'm down to answer any questions anybody may have."

Zucchini glances at Sock, hoping to convey all of his surprise in one look. “Uh, well… You made that flower in the alley in town?”

Sock is surprised as well, but he kinda likes this guy's vibe.

"That I did! You like it?"

Zucchini breaks into a genuine smile. “Yeah, actually. It’s really, really good.” He glances at Sock again. “We had some questions about it, if you’ve got some time.”

"Sure thing!" Vitriol gestures for them to follow him into another room. "Have a seat wherever," he says, vaguely gesturing all over to what was probably some sort of lounging room.

With another glance at Sock, Zucchini follows. The room they walk into is...exactly how Zucchini expected it to look, yet not. Lots of art on the walls. Even more plants. But a semblance of order amongst the chaos. Zucchini sits on an automan.Sock sits on the ground beside Zucchini.

Vitriol flops down on a cushion. "So, what can I answer for you today?"

“Well, first. Why the flower? Does it mean something? And why that alley? Are there more?” Zucchini says all this in a rush, having not realized how many questions he has until they came tumbling out. He clamps his lips shut to keep anymore from escaping.

Vitriol chuckles. "I painted the flower because I thought it looked nice. That's it. No deeper meaning. I used the alley because it was there. Nobody else was going to use that space, why not spruce it up a bit, you feel me? And yeah, I've done tons of paintings around town. Most of them were removed, though."

Zucchini shrugs, accepting this. It was good enough for him. He looks to Sock, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sock is nodding along with what Vitriol is saying. It was so interesting to hear what went through this guy's head. He is honestly really glad that Zucchini convinced him to come along.

“You said that people...come here often? To ask questions?” Zucchini asks.

"Yeah! I'm pretty well known in the illegal art community. A lot of people like to stop by to ask about it."

Sock cuts in. "So you know what you're doing is illegal?"

Vitriol nods. "Sometimes you gotta break the rules to do what's right for the world. And for me that means painting buildings."

Zucchini nods, agreeing. “You ever do commissions?”

"Occasionally I'll do free requests. You got a request?"

“Not yet, but I might. It’s really good work.”

"Thank you! So-" Whatever Vitriol was about to say was cut off as he is tackled from behind.

Zucchini’s eyes go wide and he starts to get up to help before realizing Vitriol is laughing.

Vitriol shrugs off his attacker. "This is my roommate and best friend for life, Neat," he says.

Neat waved at them. "HI!"

Zucchini raises a hand in greeting while sitting back down, trying to look like he hadn’t been about to attack this man in his own home.

"Neat helps me with my art. He even does some of his own. Go get some of your paintings to show them, Neat."

Neat nods and leaves the room, returning later with armfuls of parchment.

Zucchini eagerly bends over the pieces as Neat spreads them out on the living room table.

Sock looks over the pieces even more eagerly. He had always been a creative person, and it was so nice to finally meet people who were doing the things he’d always hoped he could do. Well, not the illegal stuff, but the painting stuff. Most of the paintings are just splatters and smudges of color, with no real rhyme or reason. Sock likes that.

“So, there are more folks like you? Artists who get together and paint?” Zucchini asks, eyes glued to a piece with a dragon. Its golden scales seem to shimmer in the lamp light, like it’s alive.

"Yeah, man. There's artists all over the place. And not just painters. There's sculptors, weavers, weaponsmiths, dancers, singers… there’s artists everywhere," Vitriol says. Neat nods.

Zucchini blinks, finding himself embarrassed to realize he’d never considered weaponsmiths or weavers artists. Hell, he may technically be an artist and had never put it together.

"Do you need any qualifications to be an artist?" Sock asks.

"Nope! You just have to create," Vitriol replies. "Now, is that all your questions?"

Zucchini looks towards Sock. He knows he’s at least tapped out of questions, but he knows Sock had been the more reticent one going in, and he’s unsure if Sock still wants to book the guy. He hopes not.

Sock considers his next question carefully. "So you said you interact with other criminals, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you happen to know about any crimes of a more sinister nature going on?"

Vitriol and Neat share a look, their comfortable and somewhat goofy postures changing in an instant. With one mind, they turn and look at Sock.

“Who’s asking?” Neat demands, one hand folded over the other.

"Just a couple of guys trying to keep their families safe." That was a little bit of stretch to say, but Sock thought that mentioning family might make them more willing to talk.

Vitriol and Neat look at each other again, seeming to have a conversation with just their eyes. Then, they nod simultaneously and look back at Sock.

“Alright,” Vitriol says, “we may know something. Or of someone. Someone we’ve seen around that we don’t necessarily...like hanging around here.”

“But we won’t know for sure until tomorrow,” Neat finishes.

Zucchini watches the easy way they held a conversation, as if they were one person instead of two. It takes him a moment to realize they’re waiting for one of them to speak. “Tomorrow? Why tomorrow?”

Neat shrugs. “Need more info.”

Zucchini looks at him, waiting for more. When none is forthcoming, he sighs. Something tells him pushing for an explanation would get him nowhere.

Sock feels that these guys weren't to be messed with. Not that they were particularly aggressive or anything, they just had a powerful vibe to them. "So, um, we should probably head back now."

Vitriol and Neat smile at Sock, their expressions exactly the same, down to the twinkle in their eyes. “See you tomorrow!” they say, then turn and slap each other on the shoulder, shouting “Jinx!”

Zucchini can almost believe they’re harmless. Almost. He carefully gets up from his seat, edging towards the door. “See you...tomorrow…” He can’t get out fast enough.

Once outside and safely in a secluded alleyway, Sock takes off his mask and pulls his day clothes back over his undercover attire. "You got a weird vibe from them too, right?"

“Definitely. Those two were super weird. Not in a bad way, but in a…” Zucchini flaps his hands around, struggling for a word. “Weird way?”

"I have a hunch, but just in case…" Sock looks back at the house, "I think I’ll keep it to myself." He is definitely going to have a conversation with Baaang later.

Zucchini looks at Sock from the corner of his eye but decides not to press the issue. He’d tell him when he’s ready and, besides, Zucchini has plenty to think about before going back into that house.

They arrive back at the circus rather quickly. The sun has long since set, and Katt is standing in front of Sock’s tent with her arms crossed. "Where were you!? You said you were going to help set up, and then you disappeared! We were worried about you!"

Sock runs a hand through his hair sheepishly. "We decided to go into town afterwards."

"You two decided to go into town together?" Katt sounds completely baffled that they would ever willingly spend more time together than they had to.

Zucchini grits his teeth, trying not to say anything to provoke Katt. He knows Sock doesn’t like them fighting, but she was making it so easy.

Katt takes a deep breath before turning to Zucchini. "You can go now. I need to talk with my brother."

Zucchini grinds his teeth harder, feeling sure one of them cracks. “Oh goodie, being dismissed by someone five feet high. Have fun.” He stomps away, not caring if Sock’s upset. She’d started it!

As Katt pulled him away, Sock only had one thing to say… "Ow! You’re pulling my arm too hard!"

#the boys crack open a cold one and it's an underground crime organization #zukka #zuko #sokka #fix writes with friends #zukka au #crack fic

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian Season 2 Trailer Breakdown and Analysis

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The Mandalorian season 2 will send Mando and Baby Yoda to new places across the galaxy and to new dangers, as the bounty hunter with a heart of gold searches for the Child’s home. As teased in the season’s first trailer ahead of the Oct. 30 premiere, the journey won’t be easy. Mando (Pedro Pascal) won’t only have to contend with other bounty hunters trying to get the jump on him but also the brutal Empire, which is still on the hunt for the Child. And unbeknownst to our hero, the cruel Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) survived his encounter with the Mandalorian and is out for blood, the power Darksaber in hand.

There’s plenty going on in this trailer, between firefights, duels, and even a few X-wing scenes (!), so I’m breaking the video below to see what secrets are hiding in plain sight. Hopefully, we’ll learn a few new things about season 2 along the way. Hit me in the comments or on Twitter if you’ve caught something I’ve missed!

Before I get started, here’s the trailer again:

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Okay, here’s what I’ve found so far:

The trailer opens with Mando and Baby Yoda flying the Razor Crest towards a terrestrial moon I can’t quite recognize, although the way it’s introduced into the shot reminds me how the Millenium Falcon flew around the gas giant of Yavin to reveal the much smaller Yavin IV hiding just behind it. It’s a nice little callback.

Of course, the biggest detail here is that the Razor Crest has clearly taken some damage before this scene, as you can see from the sparking engine and the way the ship can’t seem to fly in a straight line towards its destination. The cargo door is also hanging open, unable to close. The ship clearly ran into some trouble.

As you’ll see throughout the rest of the trailer, the Razor Crest will at the very least pick up some New Republic pursuers this season, and the Empire isn’t too far behind either. Expect a few dog fights.

We then see Mando and the Child walking across the surface of what looks like a settlement in the desert. Are the heroes back on Tatooine? Or are they on one of the other dry planets introduced in the first season, like Arvala-7 and Nevarro? Tatootine seems most likely since Star Wars can’t help itself. Either way, the trailer delivers the Western vibes right away, as the gunslinger and his ward arrive in this desert town. Trouble will definitely follow.

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction,” says the Armorer (Emily Swallow) during this shot. “You must reunite it with its own kind.”

These lines are of course a callback to the end of the first season when the Armorer sent Mando on his way to find the Child’s home.

Clear skies. The desert. A Tusken Raider riding a bantha. This is definitely Tatooine. Is Mando on his way back to see mechanic Peli Motto (Amy Sedaris) after another run-in with some enemy ships?

It’s on Tatooine where Mando will likely meet Timothy Olyphant’s Cobb Vanth, a former slave who found Boba Fett’s old armor and made himself sheriff of a settlement called Freetown in the Aftermath books by Chuck Wendig. This character’s arrival may have actually been teased in the first season’s fifth episode. In finale scene of the episode, we see and hear as a mysterious stranger with spurs on his boots finds the body of Fennec Shand, the assassin played by Ming-Na Wen. At first, most fans speculated that this was Boba Fett but since Olyphant’s Vanth casting came to light, the sheriff seems more likely.

All that said, Temuera Morrison has been cast to play Boba Fett in the series as well, although reports suggest the character only plays a small role on the show. Maybe even just a brief cameo. A showdown between Mando, Cobb, and Boba Fett sure would be an interesting half-hour of television, though. Either way, this series is poised to confirm that Boba Fett survived the sarlacc pit from Return of the Jedi.

Mando and Baby Yoda’s search take them to an ice planet at some point. There are plenty of ice planets in the Star Wars galaxy, so I’m not sure which this is. The very first episode of the series followed the Mandalorian as he visited the ice planet of Maldo Kreis to collect a bounty. It’s possible he’s back on Maldo Kreis for season 2.

The next shot shows Mando kneeling next to the Child, some kind of ship or vehicle wreckage in the background. I’m not sure what kind of vessel this is, but it almost looks Clone Wars era to me. What do you think?

As Mando walks through what looks like an outpost full of aliens from all over the galaxy, we hear the Armorer telling the bounty hunter about “an order of sorcerers called Jedi” who she believes might know more about the origins of the Child. It’s possible that Baby Yoda is even one of these “sorcerers.” (We know of course that the Child is indeed strong in the Force and would make an excellent Jedi.)

Just as the Armorer mentions these sorcerers, we see a cloaked figure watching Mando and the Child from the shadows. While some thought this might be Rosario Dawson’s Ahsoka Tano, who is also making her live-action debut on the show, this is actually a mystery character played by none other than WWE superstar Sasha Banks. The trailer strongly teases that Banks’ character is either a Jedi or a dark sider. This seems like a bit of misdirection to me, but it’s clear that Banks is at the very least some sort of spy watching Mando’s moves.

We then see Mando and Baby Yoda riding on a boat across foggy waters to parts unknown, which its very cool in itself since we don’t really see much sea travel in Star Wars unless it’s on Naboo. Why can’t Mando get to wherever he’s going on the Razor Crest, though?

Remember those New Republic pursuers I mentioned earlier? A little more than midway through the trailer, the Razor Crest is met by two X-wings who lock S-foils in attack position after Mando undoubtedly fails to comply with their orders. A very cool chase sequence through a cloudy sky ensues that I can’t wait to watch more of.

Mando’s allies, Greef Karga (Carl Weathers) and Cara Dune (Gina Carano), are back for season 2. Judging from the destruction in the background and the terrain, it looks like Mando will reunite with his friends on Nevarro some time after their fight with the Empire last season.

The Empire is back too, of course. We see troopers and pilots rushing into battle on speeder bikes and the Outland TIE fighters first introduced in season 1. Judging from the volcanic terrain in these scenes, it looks like this scuffle with the Empire also takes place on Nevarro.

This looks like it’s going to be an awesome fight sequence, with Mando jetpacking off a cliff to meet the Imperial scum. Is Moff Gideon waiting for him?

I can’t tell what’s happening here except that Mando has trapped someone, hanging them from a street post. The graffiti all over the walls makes me think this is back on Mos Eisley, which was heavily vandalized after Imperial forces were slaughtered there. You all remember the stormtrooper helmets on pikes, right?

A couple of quick cuts of Mando and Baby Yoda walking through an ice cave and what looks like the Razor Crest falling through a planet’s atmosphere follow. Then we get the most interesting scene of the entire trailer, as Mando and the Child walk into a room where two Gamorreans are duking it out inside a ring! The Star Wars Wrestling Federation is a thing and it includes weapons and is probably to the death. I now want to watch a whole show about a Gamorrean heavyweight making his way through the seedy world of whatever sport this is.

Unsurprisingly, Mando and the Child run into some trouble during the fight, as a group of criminals turn their blasters on them. The one-eyed alien doing the talking is an Abyssin, a species first introduced in the cantina scene in A New Hope.

Baby Yoda hilariously takes cover as Mando activates his whistling birds, the tiny guided projectiles that make quick work of these bozos. By the time Mando takes down that Zabrack guard (!), it looks like the bounty hunter is the last man standing.

“This is the way.”

More on The Mandalorian season 2 as we learn it!

The post The Mandalorian Season 2 Trailer Breakdown and Analysis appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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why-do-i-like-the-bad-guys · 5 years ago

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What were you doing in 4th grade?

I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was trying to make sense of why my brother would break into 2 of my neighbors houses and steal stuff. One of those neighbors had a girl in my grade that went to the same school as me. And the other neighbors were like a second family to me. But that all changed. They didn’t want to see us anymore. The whole neighborhood knew.

This is how I found out about it: I came home from school and ran into our living room to tell my mom that I was going to play with the neighbors. My mom stopped me and sat me down. She told me that they didn’t want to see us anymore because my brother had broken into their house and stole stuff. My brother was in 7th grade at the time. My brother had a court hearing while I was in school a few weeks later. Every time I saw the other neighborhood girl at school it just reminded me what my life had become.

We were basically shunned by a big chunk of the neighborhood. Imagine that your in fourth grade and feel constantly judged wherever you go. My mom ran into family members of the neighbors at the stores and she would feel ashamed. I remember many times I caught my mom crying in the kitchen when one particular song came on the radio. She didn’t even try to hide it. One day I came home from school and saw a flash of my brother running upstairs in my mom’s bathing suit. I didn’t know what to do. I ran outside and went across the street because I knew he wasn’t allowed to go over there.

I sat on the curb crying as my brother tried to get me to go back home. Eventually I did. When my parents came home I told them what happened. I remember i smirked as I heard him getting yelled at. You know how it goes with siblings. I didn’t understand why my brother would do something like that and I still don’t. My mom started locking her bedroom door every time they left us home alone. I remember one time they told me to keep an eye on my brother. Basically babysit him. Also I lost another best friend of mine in 4th grade she switched schools and we never really talked again.

I had to deal with what was happening on my own because my parents never talked about it around me. When I would ask a question they would get angry. So I learned to stop asking questions and not tell anyone what happened. As a 4th grader I had to deal with the fact that my brother was in legal trouble and because of that my best friends didn’t want to see me anymore. And you would think that my turmoil would be over by middle school but it wasn’t.

My nighbor’s aunt was a teacher at my middle school. She knew about what went down. But thankfully she was very kind to me. I was still afraid to ask questions about what happened. But she assured me that my neighbors missed me and they wished that circumstances were different. I also made a friend in middle school and she ended up leaving the state. My grandpa (dad’s dad) accidentally ran over my grandma with a four wheeler. (She lived she just needed a back brace for a while.) then he started having back problems so he wore a back brace too.

He is an active guy so he was working in his garage when he caught fire. He ended up having 3rd and 4th degree burns on 20% of his body. Destroying the nerves. The doctors were amazed that he recovered so quickly and nicely.

This situation followed me all through high school as well. But I think I was the only who was actually still dealing with it. My parents had seemed to move on so did my brother. But I couldn’t. Because there was constant reminders in my mind. I still carried the shame and guilt. It also didn’t help that freshman year was the beginning of a whole new situation that would last a whole 5 years. My oma (moms mom) fell and had an open head injury. Let’s just say that my Oma picked on me constantly growing up. I was the only grandchild that she picked on.

It wasn’t in a loving way either. She was down right mean. Telling me I dress nicer. Behaved better. Yada yada. It got so bad at points that my mom and her would get into big arguments that ended with my mom and I leaving their house in tears.

Anyway this woman required constant care and my aunt refused to put her in a nursing home because she is a complete control freak! My mom had to go there everyday to help out. Every year it was always something new with my oma. She broke a lot of bones, had pneumonia, etc. Like seriously this woman wouldn’t die!

This meant I was home alone in the summertime before freshman year. In the same neighborhood. Thankfully God blessed me with my dog. So I didn’t feel so alone. In the middle school years I had made some new friends. But I always stopped hanging out with them. I dumped the friendship cold turkey. No warnings. No nothing...

So my mom would come home exhausted. When freshman year started she was part of the elementary school committee. The elementary school was right next to the high school. So my mom would bring me to school around 7 O’clock because her meetings started soon after. I was one of the first people in school everyday. I didn’t mind. There was a history teacher that would open up the art room for me. Sophomore year luckily one semester I had the same history teacher for first period so I would just sit in the classroom and doodle.

Junior year we got a new building. And I got my car. Now things between my mom and I weren’t good. We would get into arguments in the morning. So I started going to school early again. Also I moved in my junior year. We built a new house and it felt like it was going to be a fresh start. It was but the new neighbors didn’t like that we cut down some trees. They said that they liked their privacy. Well sorry but we don’t want trees falling on our house.

My mom was still taking care of my Oma while my aunt went to work. My mom was retired from teaching. School became my safe haven. I talked with a few of the teachers in the mornings. I considered my art teacher like a friend. I had friends my age like... 5ish but only 2 of them I actually got along with. And today I only talk to 1.

Senior year I decided I wanted to be a social worker. That didn’t pan out. I thought that once I started college that my home situation wouldn’t follow me there but it did. I had way too much on my plate and I was stressed. I became extremely suicidal. It got to the point where I would wake up in the morning and the first thing that popped into my head was to overdose. I started slacking on my classes. I stayed in my dorm room all day except when I was in class. I barely talked to anyone.

After school ended my therapist said that I should go into a temporary counseling group. So that’s what i did. It didn’t really help that much... I started working at the job I have now. I worked here in the summers as well. One summer I was extremely depressed and it took everything in me not to stop on the train tracks on the way to work everyday. Just when I was about to give up my boss put me in a different part of work because they needed a replacement for the week for the guy who was on vacation. The guy on vacation name was Marcos. And the guy who worked with him was John.

I started working over there more often and it really helped. The guys taught me how to relax with my job and worry so much. We talked about the hardships of life. John lost 3 loved ones on 911. And Marcos always has a smile on his face. I remember I started doodling on scrap paper and they loved them. I drew Marcos once and he was so happy! He was like: “John! John! Look! She drew me!” In his Hispanic accent. Marcos gave me snacks and pop even when I said that he didn’t have to do that for me.

Well, last year on July 25 I was working in a different area for a few months. (I hadn’t really talked to Marcos and John that much because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss.) John came up to me and asked me if I had heard about what happened to Marcos. I said I had no clue. He responded saying that Marcos committed suicide in June on the 25th. I thought he was joking because he has a dark sense of humor. So I said, that’s not funny John. He was being completely sincere... he gave me the paper with the obituary details on it.

Marcos’ step daughter accused him of molesting her when she was between the ages of 4-8. That was a lie. She did it because he told her that he couldn’t afford to buy a car for her. So she went to the police and told that lie. The truth is that he didn’t even know her until she was 11! His arrest warrant was sent out and 3 days later Marcos went home and killed himself...

I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for Marcos and John, i wouldn’t be here today. They saved my life. And knowing that I didn’t notice that Marcos was gone for a month kills me. I had no clue what was going on during that time. After I heard the news about Marcos i shut people out. I had a new coworker who was trying to get to know me and i would just shut her out for the longest time. She said that she had to keep pushing to get to the brick wall i had put up. I couldn’t handle anymore loss. I finally let her in and we became good friends. About 6 months later she stopped showing up to work. I texted her asking what was going on. She said she had quit her job because she couldn’t work third shift anymore. She said that everyday she got to work and she would start crying. Now she is a mom as well so that’s stressful enough as is.

I started training someone new for three days. We got close and talked about a lot of different things. She missed a day of work. I asked what happened and she said that her mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was inoperable. The doctors gave her a few months to live. She stopped coming to work after a few days and didn’t come back.

Now I’m 21, have no clue what I want to do with my life. I want to move to Hawaii and live in a van. Like I’m being serious! It is the only thing I think about my future and don’t want to kill myself. I tried finding careers that I would want to do but that got me nowhere. So I started thinking about if I could move anywhere in the world where would I move?

By the way I’m adopted from Russia when I was 3.5 years old. The first 18months of my life I was severely neglected to the point where I was too weak to even sit up. I also had a sister who was adopted by her dad. (We have different dad’s same moms) she will be 24 in September 23. I don’t know if she is alive or not. So from the get go I had abandonment issues. My birth mom and her mom are/were (don’t know if they are alive either) alcoholics.

I’m not saying that people didn’t have it worse than me because of course some do. But the victims of a crime aren’t just the people who were robbed... the family of the robber are victims too. Feel free to share your stories!

#messedup #effedup #fuckedup #my childhood #victims #what were you doing in fourth grade

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veridium · 6 years ago

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just another girl

HELLO, HOT MESS EXPRESS.

Here I have one hot, out-of-the-angst-oven segment of Isabella’s and my baby, our college AU adventures. Safe to say, Olivia is not having a great week. But, in the true queer tradition, friendship backs you up and shines when would-be-romance falls flat. So, I thought she could use some quality time with a certain brilliant woman by the name of Montilyet...

special thanks to The Killers for being the soundtrack inspo for this segment (obvi..)

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // part 13 // part 14 // part 15

Her weekend could have best been represented by the barrage of texts she gets over the course of two days. Ones she doesn’t even begin responding to until Sunday evening:

Theia: Hey, Ellinor messaged the group chat for you. You wanna go out tonight? You know dancing always cheers you up! Btw I’m gonna kill her

Sera: Hey dude, I’m on my way back into town, ya need anything? I can pick up some of the weed from that shop outside town…

Sera: ya know, the one you kept calling “smokin’ hot blonde”?

Dorian: Not that I care, but you haven’t annoyed work chat with memes, so...I thought I’d ask, you alive?

Josie: Theia told me everything. I have a busy week, but keep Wednesday at 2 open for me? It’s back quad bikini time :)

The queer web is tiny, but mighty.

The last message is the most foreboding in its enthusiasm. Josephine joined into their friend group after her and Theia fell head over heels for each other. An unlikely pairing -- a college dropout-turned-mechanic and the SGA President and leader of several clubs. But they were so good together; despite their differences, they made sense.

She used to wonder the same thing about her and Cassandra, but, that is something she can’t even stomach anymore. She can only cry, cry, and cry some more. She cries so much the 24 hours after their meeting that she googles WebMD asking if it’s possible to die or get sick from it. But, eventually, the faucet does run dry.

If it wasn’t for Ellinor’s supervision and assurance that Olivia gets in and out of the shower, has at least two decent meals both days, and has plenty of space to grieve, she would have likely receded into her closet of emo clothes and hid for the rest of the semester. If you went simply by the sounds coming from her door, you’d swear Paramour was having their own multi-day music festival in her room. The more she languishes the more it feels pointless: an argument that ended unresolved and with so much left unsaid. But it isn’t just the argument, or the flyer, or the kiss that crashed before it even took off. It’s the whole fucked up pizza: the fact that Cassandra gives her so much and so little at the same time. Little to no blunt reassurance, but all the feelings that come with it.

Olivia knows she’s gotten in deep when, even in the thick of her weekend haze, she still checks her phone for texted musings or rants from a certain someone. But there’s nothing. She listened, perhaps for the last time.

When Monday morning rolls around she figures the best way to move on is to suppress and get on with everything. Ellinor is on day 3 of quietly walking on air since she dropped off the cookies on Saturday. She’s glowing, even dressed in her linty green-and-blue flannel draped over her black ripped jeans and grey tank top. Her hair is braided all pretty, too, and walks with more energy down into the stairwell than Liv has ever seen her in the early Monday morning. Cullen’s making her happy.

Good. As he should.

Monday and Tuesday are the days when she tries her best to latch back onto reality. Monday it’s a sweatshirt in jeans, no makeup, but washed hair. Her homework is done -- not as meticulously as it usually is -- but it is correct. She gives back graded work to the class she TA’s for and despite a few groans and curses, the class is too happy with not having a Professor to talk at them to bother her. Or, maybe it’s the way everything about her aura screams “don’t fuck with me, I’m on my last fucking straw, you fresh meat.”

Tuesday evening she walks home after work, keys in her hand and gym bag on her shoulder. She notices the same preps that scowled at her in the parking lot hanging out in the window of one of the student cafes. They don’t know she exists, and happily talk amongst themselves, though they have the same air of “too good for everyone but Jesus and even then, it’s debatable.” She stops on the curb and stares, pondering whether or not to confront them. She could be ballsy since she has nothing left now to lose, and have a rom-com triumph moment.

Her hand buzzes from her phone, which she is clenching with unresolved angst.

Josie: Don’t forget about tomorrow! I’ll bring Starbucks. Theia says hello. XO

Josie Montilyet. Josephine Montilyet. You never broke plans with her if you were an acquaintance, and you surely never did so when you were friends. Olivia sighs to herself and responds with a heart emoji. After that she looks down the sidewalk, and can see the top corner of her dorm building through the various peaks of red brick and concrete architecture. The trees nuzzled in between them have been changing color, and now match. It’s the season where everyone is getting together and finding who they want to take home to the parents for the holidays. Everyone’s holding hands or studying up against one another. Somewhere, for all she knows -- who is she kidding, she does know -- Ellinor is either cuddling or wishing she could cuddle her selected partner.

She slips her phone into her coat pocket and pushes her headphones into her ears. With a sore heart she keeps walking. The preps aren’t worth it. Not this time.

The following day she goes to class and doesn’t bother with anything else. Wednesdays are when she and Cassandra would cross paths on the north pavement on quad in the morning, and say hello. She wants nothing to do with it, now, and heads out the back door of her building after her class.

Cassandra has become like a ghost to her by day 5 of their embargo on one another. She doesn’t show her face anywhere near Olivia’s dorm, and neither does Olivia tread near the suites where she and her puppy-dog roommate dwell. It starts to become a question of whether or not she cared enough to miss her when they aren’t speaking. Irrational, but, in the silence it’s easy to think Cassandra in all her stoicism is somewhere on campus unaffected, doing soccer drills or making freshman philosophy majors cry.

But she still checks her phone, and still there are no messages. Reading the old ones again and again has gotten old. No word, no face, no presence. Just wondering about and rehearsing the disaster that caused it all in her head, over, and over, and over again. This is getting ridiculous, she thinks to herself, as she gets back to her dorm at 1:30pm. Ellinor is there, stopped in for a quick pick-up of a few things before she is off to wherever she has plans to be.

“Hey, Queen of the Underworld,” Ellinor knocks on her open door before stepping in. Olivia has taken to laying across her bed, hands across her stomach. “Whatcha up to?”

She shrugs. “Relaxing.”

“You’re looking good. Is that...highlighter I see on those cheeks?” she pinches her on the side of her hip and sits down beside her on the bed. “Did you, dare I say, contour this morning?”

Olivia rolls her eyes and grins like the sour brat she is. “I had to, I’m hanging out with Josephine today and she makes me feel like a turnip when I am in her glorious presence.”

“I see,” Ellinor snorts, leaning onto her elbow. “So Theia sent her after you to make sure you’re alive? What, am I not good enough?”

“It’s not that! It’s just...ya know, the queer mafia. We look out for one another. Everyone knows everyone or knows someone who would know the someone you want to know.”

Ellinor tilts her head. “That...makes absolutely know sense. Can you speak human, please?”

Olivia giggles and pokes her in the nose, causing her to laugh along with her. Ellinor stands up and circles the room -- the room Olivia took care to stress clean Monday night after she realized she was living in the squalor of her depression. It looks good, but it’s not as homey or warm as it usually feels.

“Well, you have a good time, then. I’m sure Josie has a plan for resurrecting you. That woman is formidable.”

“Pfft,” Olivia huffs, “there’s a reason why she has diplomatic immunity in like three countries, okay.”

“Three?! The fuck?” Ellinor turns. “How?”

“Fuck if I know!”

“I thought she just studied abroad a bunch.”

Olivia sits up and leans against the wall. “Yeah, but, she--”

“I merely interned at several government agencies during my abroad summers, Ellinor,” a bright, brilliant voice projects confidently from the doorway. “The diplomatic immunity is more like a diplomatic ‘acknowledgement.’”

Josephine steps in like an angel descending upon the unworthy mortals of 21C hall. Dressed in a purple sundress and holding a lawn chair under one arm and her back of scholarly secrets in the other, her hair in a voluminous ponytail of curls and braids. She is taller than them both, not by much, but her presence makes it feel like ten feet of difference.

She smiles, and looks to Olivia. “Hello, my dear. Sorry, I arrived a bit early.”

Olivia’s brows are lifted, mouth in an agape “O.” “H-hey, Josie, it’s no trouble. I’m ready anyways.”

Josie gives her the once-over. “That is an interesting fashion interpretation of ‘bikini.’”

“Oh, crap, right,” Olivia exhales and slides off her bed. While she goes to her closet to pick out her swimsuit that’s without a doubt buried under ten mountains of fall wear, Josephine and Ellinor are left to make conversation. Which goes something like this:

“Hey, Josie.”

“Hello, Ellinor! How are you?”

“Uh, good. I’m good. I’m...this boy I’m hanging out with is really cool, and…” she blurts it out, her words slightly fumbling with...silliness? Is she feeling silly all of a sudden? No, it’s just the warm and open tolerant atmosphere Josie seems to bring wherever she goes, emanating like perfume.

“I have heard! You both look adorable together, may I just say. The perfect combination of grunge and gullible charm. Very sweet!”

“I...thanks!” Ellinor smirks, embarrassed and honored at the same time. Olivia knows the feeling. “I...I feel like I’ve said things I never would say out loud ever in my life. I...I think I should go. I have to study anyway, uh, thanks for taking Olivia out.”

Olivia looks back and glares. “Taking me out?! Am I a chihuahua or something?”

Josephine laughs the scorn off the room with ease. “It is no trouble. I’ve missed her! Thank you for sharing her, Ellinor. Take care.”

Ellinor smiles and waves like a BBQ dad and sees herself out, a little too eager to not be basking in the light of Josephine Montilyet and the self-deprecating honesty she seems to inspire in her wake. Now alone with her, Olivia plays with the strings of her bikini in her hands, a bit timid at the idea.

“You sure this is a good idea, Josie? I mean, It’s Fall, and…”

“Agh, of course I am! It is currently 78 degrees outside and no wind. It is probably one of the last hot days of the year. Besides, it’s you who’s in need of some sun, my dear vampiric friend.”

Olivia blushes and side-eyes her standalone mirror in the corner, where indeed, her paleness is the first noticeable thing about her reflection. Cringing to herself, she takes a breath and nods. “Alright, you’ve got a point.”

“I know I do,” Josie giggles, stepping towards the door. “Now, you get that little number on and let’s get out of here. I am finally going to hear all about this mystery person Theia says she doesn’t know yet swears she’s going to kill her.”

“You think she would?” Olivia chuckles, taking off her cardigan.

“Psh! Over my beautiful, curvy, and impossible to improve or replace body if she does,” Josie winks with a tease. “Now, hurry, or we’ll run into the in-between class rush at Starbucks and they have a berry tea with my name on it.”

Front quad was the picturesque place where everyone walked and the marketing photographers for the university took more pictures than they needed. Pretty, but boring.

Back quad, on the other hand, was where students could lounge and sprawl on blankets and under trees and actually be themselves. Everyone from couples sucking face to the school’s rollerblading club can be found there. It’s an interesting dichotomy, divided by the Honors building and clock tower at the heart of campus. When Josephine and Olivia were first getting to know each other, it was when Theia was still enrolled, and back quad was a more frequented hangout spot.

Having gotten their iced teas -- which ended up being heaven sent, as Josie was right about the heat -- they find their spot by one of the walkways intersecting the quad lawn and put up camp. Two short lounge chairs and a red blanket to go underneath, and that is all it takes for Josie to set her stuff down and slip off her dress.

“Ugh, thank goodness,” she says with relief, revealing her high-waisted yellow two-piece, “It’s been too long.”

Olivia, more paranoid given her last two weeks of ‘yikes’-worthy circumstances, delays her strip-down. Shoving her hair up in a bun, it’s hard not to feel like eyes could be on her at any point, trying to find more reasons to hate her.

“You come all this way just to get sweater tan lines?” Josie asks, settling into her chair and pulling a book onto her lap.

“Uh, no,” Olivia shakes her head. She knows what Josie is doing, because everything Josie does has a dual-benevolent purpose. So, she goes along, for the sake of appreciating her taking the time. Slipping out of her shorts and over-sized sweater, Liv reveals her black string bikini.

People from across the quad stop and stare at them, and that is the point. As she sits down on her chair and puts on her large round black sunglasses, she wishes they could all scram.

“It’s always a good idea to spend time out in one’s community,” Josie narrates, in her half-flirty, half-student body Presidential tone.

“You think?”

“Yes, Liv,” Josie plays and puts her own sunglasses on. “Especially for the one for whom papers are pinned onto doors mocking her sacred bodily and sexual autonomy.”

Olivia blushes and looks at her. “Josie! You know?!”

Josie hunches one shoulder. “I...may have...inquired…”

“Ugh,” Liv tossed her head back, her legs scrunching up against her stomach. “I want to disappear. I want to disappear into this grass lawn and never emerge again. God almighty.”

While she laments, Josie closes her book onto her thumb gently and reaches a hand, resting it on Liv’s forearm. It’s comforting, if not a sweet bit of salt on her wounds. “Liv, don’t worry, it won’t be a thing if you don’t want it to be. I just wanted to show some...solidarity. I know SGA Presidents don’t have all the clout in the world, but, we do have some to spare.”

Dual plan revealed, then. Olivia can’t blame her, nor can she be mad at her. Josie didn’t ascend into her roles by being cold and calculating in her ambition; she did because she was everyone’s favorite. She visited people in the tutoring lounges, shared baked goods with custodial staff, and learned everyone’s secrets which she handled with the warmest, and indeed precise, attention. Things got a bit rough for her when it was revealed she was queer, and dating someone not necessarily in her scholarly echelon, but that was a year ago. If anything, it made her a bit more unapologetically decisive. She did not mince her words, or her loyalties.

“I just…” Olivia held her breath, “I handled it. It’s fine. That flyer was where it ended.” And where her and Cassandra ended, ultimately. Ouch.

“Are you sure?” Josie slid back further into her lounging position, reopening her book. She reached over to her bag and found one of her lecture notebooks, flipping it to the page she last left notes on. “I mean, remember what I got when I went public with Theia?”

“Yeah, but, Josie, the people after you were also being racist assholes. You had reason to be concerned. All I got is one shitty note and suddenly everything has become a Victorian serial novel. And Cassandra, she...it’s gone too far with the intrigue. I’m fine. It was just some foolish prank.”

Josie does a tsk tsk click of her tongue, her head tilting from side to side. Her thinking maneuver. “That’s how they like to start it, Olivia. But you’re giving them what they want -- that’ll just make them think they can demand more of you while being anonymous still. You remember what I ended up doing after the five-hundredth gossip post on Yik Yak, after weeks of me trying to keep my relationship private?”

Olivia puckered her lips while she recalled. It was a long while ago, though that drama was hard to forget even when she was just a witness to it. Then, the light bulb went off.

“Hah!” Olivia concedes gleefully, “you lounged out on quad in your bikini with Theia during that heat wave spring semester.” Damn. Some things never changed when it came to college survival tactics.

Olivia looks and sees Josie smiling with pride, head held high while she pulls the cap off her yellow highlighter. “Precisely.”

They settle into homework and lounging, Olivia feeling her shoulders and arms burn even with her double layer of SPF 100 rubbed on. People walk by, more often than not glancing their way, some with smiles and others with confused frowns. A lot of them say hello and greet Josie, who matches their excitement at every turn. Endless energy, endless kindness. At one point, a couple of players from Cullen and Cassandra’s soccer team walk by -- something that makes Olivia want to crinkle up like a raisin. If it wasn’t for Josie’s confidence encouraging her to remain as she is, she likely would. They gawk at her, one nodding as if he knows her, but they don’t engage. Olivia just pouts, spread out in her itty-bitty-gothic-bikini, her sunglasses providing ample cover.

“Josie!” a voice called from up the walkway, paired with a waving hand. Both women looked up, Liv’s heart skipping a beat. It’s no one she recognizes, though. Thankfully.

“Ah! Leliana, there you are.”

The woman is dressed like a European artist and jet-setter, really. A head of red hair in an asymmetrical bob, precision cut and shining in the sunlight. Her black blazer looks tailored, rolled up sleeves on her elbows. She walks like she owns the whole college but doesn’t want anyone to know. A subtle kind of boldness. Upperclassmen, at the very least. Grad student, maybe.

She’s holding folders to her chest. When she arrives in front of them, Josie stands and hugs her. So they were friends.

“I’ve brought the reports you wanted. I only had to slightly hack,” Leliana grins, handing them off to Josie. “Just slightly.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry. It should be public knowledge anyway.” Public knowledge? What on Earth were they uncovering? The location of the stolen Declaration of Independence?

Olivia watches and remains still, laying out on her chair and hoping to blend into it like camouflage. Unfortunately, when the hand-off is completed, Leliana’s lightly-colored eyes look past the SGA President and onto her companion behind her.

Nope, too pale. Always too pale. Makes her noticeable from space.

“And is this who I think it is?” she asks, like she already knows the answer and is just being nice.

Olivia’s brow twitches. “Depends on what informs your thinking, I would say,” she replies a bit curtly, her mouth getting ahead of her manners.

Leliana’s grin widens. “Blonde hair, blunt mouth, and bold style. Olivia Sinclair, we meet at last.”

What? The? Fuck?

Olivia stands at once, trying to make it look casual. She pulls at the drawstrings on either end of her bikini bottom piece and comes a bit closer.

“And who, might I ask, knows me so well?”

Josie makes room, now the mediating person between the two staring at each other. Of course, she is never one to be out of her element in odd social situations, and holds a hand out to the both of them.

“I cannot believe you two don’t know each other! Liv, Leliana takes classes in your major. Leliana, this is, indeed, Olivia.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve had any classes with her, Josie, so I wouldn’t know.” Olivia does her best to go along with Josie’s pleasantries, but if her reputation precedes her as being bold and blunt, why not fit the bill?

“No, I’m afraid she’s right,” Leliana agrees, “I am more involved with the communications and international studies than poli sci. You?”

Olivia doesn’t miss a beat. “Governance, theory, and policy.” Reciting her major focus word for word, like she’s had to say so many times before.

“Mhm.” Leliana folds her arms, vindicated. “It’s nice to put a face to the name, though. You probably gathered the fact, but, I’ve heard about you.”

Olivia grows a bit colder under her skin, and she folds her arms to match her posture. “From who, exactly? Do you mean Josie?”

“From…” Leliana’s grin grows into a smile, “people I know, and know well. People whose recommendation I consider very...well, what would the word be?” she glances at Josie.

“Ah, esteemed, maybe?” Josie offers happily.

“Yes...esteemed, we’ll go with that.” Her eyes return to Olivia. “Like I said, it’s good to meet you. Now that I know you are also friends with Josie, I imagine we’ll see more of each other. I am the Honor Board Chair, and sitting in for the SGA Secretarial position as the previous person had to...resign, rather recently.”

“Oh?” Olivia replies, interested but also not. Even though she was a poli sci major, she had no interest in student government. Too ceremonial for her tastes. Obviously, though, some people did not agree.

“Yes,” Leliana snickered a bit, looking at Josie. “Well, student government drama as per usual,” she has a sudden burst of personability, shrugging and letting her arms fall and pat her sides. “I should get going. I have a review for my drawing class tomorrow and have made shit progress on it since yesterday. See ya, Josie. And you, Olivia.” She waves low and sees herself off back on the sidewalk path heading east, where the art buildings are.

In her wake, Olivia feels like she’s no longer in the direct eye of a hawk.

“Uh…” she relaxes, “Josie, you have interesting taste in friends.”

Josie giggles. “You know it. Leliana and I go way back, though. Back to first semester Model UN. She was a ruthless lobbyist. But she has a heart of gold, too. She’s a student Chaplain when she’s not being a superhero on Cabinet. I think you two would get along, she has a lot of of views you do.”

“Views? Like what?”

“You both want a different pie as opposed to a slice of it. I’ll just say that.” Josie gracefully steps over her lounge chair and seats herself back down, sighing with ease as she gets back to ‘business.’

“Huh,” Olivia gives in, and sits down as well. Crossing her straightened legs out and grabbing her textbook, her thoughts can’t let go of the knowing stare in Leliana’s green -- or were they blue? Anyway, they were eyes, and eyes that did not get distracted easy by the looks of them.

“So...you and Cassandra Pentaghast.” Josie returns the topic Liv had tried her hardest to let fall into irrelevance.

Olivia flinches, huddling her book against her chest. “People can hear!”

Josie laughs and flutters her hand dismissively. “Oh, fine, fine. I just wish you would have mentioned it earlier. She and I run in similar circles, after all. I could have given you advice!”

“Advice on what? How to get tossed into the lake to sink or swim on accusation of witchcraft?” Olivia groans. It was such a pleasant afternoon for as long as it lasted. Now she’s back in her own personal circle of hell, talking about her.

“Agh, you’re so funny,” Josie giggles some more. “I would have told you where I’ve seen her, what seems to pique her fancy...or, in her case, doesn’t. Her family has investments in half the town’s commerce. They’re on boards for most every nonprofit entity: museums, parks, the art galleries…”

Art galleries. Art. Oh, shit.

Olivia slams her book shut and looks up. “Wait, shit, you don’t think she’ll be at the Board gala this weekend?!” she asks, but she has a hunch. She knows Cassandra well enough (regrettably) to infer such a schmoozing, elitist event would be the antithesis of a good Saturday night for her. Still, in Olivia’s desperate suspicion, nothing can go unchecked.

Josie is cool as a cucumber in comparison to her friend’s frazzled nerves. “I don’t think so. The soccer team has that game this weekend, I thought? I was supposed to show, but, my parents want me at the gala. Yvette’s painting is being exhibited there. Finally, all that art school tuition…” she starts, but stops the sentence and sighs, turning the page of her book. “Anyway, Cassandra is not the social butterfly her family might wish her to be. I hardly ever see her at events with our families, and when I do, she’s always keeping to the background and quick to leave.”

That is her. Olivia can almost quote her off of her memory: Events where nothing substantial is going on besides drinking and showing off money make me want to stick pins in my eyes. It made Olivia laugh, because in her own way, she agrees. Especially with everything her own family puts her through to make her shape up for who they think she should be. It was one of the many reasons why Olivia feels seen when she was in Cassandra’s company. Or, felt, as it was.

“It is kinda fascinating, though. I mean, Cassandra’s one of those women people wonder about...you know, who they...are attracted to,” she raises a brow, “but no one’s ever had the guts. It’s like a movie.”

It is like a movie, and it’s exhausting. “Well, if anything, I’ve likely just confirmed the conservative estimates. At least she won’t be there this weekend and I can keep getting space. I don’t want to worry about running into her. I have enough on my mind, emotionally preparing for my Mother’s bullshit.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t answer for her. Don’t you hate that when people try to do it for you?” Josephine doesn’t bother looking up from her reading, but she delivers honest criticism. It hits home. “And as for your Mom, you should just tell your you’ll go shopping with me. She loves me, does she not?”

“Hah! Yeah,” Olivia confirms, “I think if I told her you were my girlfriend, she’d lie and say she listened to Macklemore and had a come-to-Jesus moment. Shit, she’d probably start fundraising for the Human Rights Campaign.”

They both laugh, Josephine’s bubbly tone underpinned by Olivia’s lower, mischievous one.

“If only,” Josephine says through her laughter, “but hey, at least we can find something for you to wear that isn’t sequined, lace, and beige.”

“Ugh, please?!”

“I have my connections,” Josephine peers at her, and takes hold of her hydroflask, a large pansexual pride flag sticker pasted on it. Olivia chuckles and grabs her own canteen, which has a bisexual flag sticker on it to match. They clink them together, smile, and continue on with their strategic lounging.

“That never gets old,” Olivia sighs, picking back up on the paragraph she left off.

#college au #ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #josephine montilyet #adventures of ellinor and olivia #COLLEGE AU UPDATE #WOOOOO #friendship fic

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kalluun-patangaroa · 6 years ago

Text

SUEDE: THE FAN-ISH INQUISITION

www.nme.com, April 5-7, 1999

You asked and they answered. NME caught up with Suede and put your questions to them.

Day 1 (April 5)

What’s the worst insult anyone’s shouted at you? (Fred Telfer, London)

Mat: “‘Effete southern wankers.’ Someone shouted that repeatedly through our first ever Scottish gig.”

Simon: “I was in the toilet at that gig, and this bloke came up to me and said, ‘Have you seen Sede? I’m going to smash their teeth in.’ I just pretended to be from Scotland. The hard part.”

Brett: “Someone once shouted, ‘You sound like Rod Stewart.'”

Mat: “No, they said, ‘We remember Rod Stewart.'”

Brett: “Oh, that’s it. That was at a time when everyone was into bands like The Wonder Stuff, and we were playing ballads. I think the Scottish crowd thought we were old hat.”

Brett, did your arse ever get sore from hitting it with your tambourine? (Kieren Kelly, Ireland)

Brett: “I used to get a lot of bruising, that’s why I don’t do it any more. I put my aggression into singing these days rather than self-flagellation.”

Are there any songs you wish you’d never written? (Debbie Harding, York)

Brett: “‘Stay Together’. I don’t know why, it’s just not one of my favourites. It was the sole time in our career when one of our records has been successful because of hype. We’ve been accused of that a lot, but that was the only time when it was true. It was just style over content.”

Neil: “I’ve only written three, so I haven’t got much to regret.”

I read somewhere that after you moved out of one of your flats, the council had to have it fumigated. Is that true? And do you like vacuuming as much as Nicky Wire? (Gary Regis, Leicester)

Mat: “That was in The Mirror, wasn’t it?”

Brett: “That’s a bit of an exaggeration. What happened was we were in the middle of a tour, and we finished a gig and I had one too many shandies and a couple of other things, and I was moving house.

“Me and a couple of friends were sitting on my bed while these removal men went around my house throwing things in plastic bags while we were off our tits. It was a bit of a mess when we left, and I apologise to the people who moved in afterwards.

“These days I find vacuuming and washing-up quite therapeutic. I hate having a messy house, it makes me really depressed, so I try to keep my environment clean.”

Which one of you has got the biggest ego? (Softywat, West Sussex)

Brett: “Definitely not me, ha ha. I don’t think any of us has got a big ego, to be honest. It’s another popular misconception about the band. We don’t all need to be pampered, none of us are that fragile. Possibly a few years ago, I had a bit of one, but I think I’ve managed to chip away at that. I don’t feel particularly ego-driven any more.”

If you could stick pins in a voodoo doll of anybody on earth, who would it be? (Kirsty Irving, Grimsby)

Brett: “I don’t have any bad intentions to anyone really. I think when you have bad intentions to other people, you’re just looking for someone else to blame for where you’ve gone wrong with your life. It’s just a coward’s way out, and I try not to entertain thoughts like that. So, nobody.”

What were the first records you bought? (Emily Mugford, Chertsey)

Richard: “My first record was ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson. I think I was about six.”

Brett: “‘Never Mind The Bollocks…’ by the Sex Pistols was the first album I bought, and the first single was ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush.”

Mat: “I think it was ‘Abba – The Album’. The one with ‘Thank You For The Music’ on it, anyway.”

Neil: “Mine was ‘Another Brick In The Wall (Part Two)’.”

Brett: “Woah, what a record!”

Mat: “What a youngster!”

Neil: “I thought it was amazing.”

Brett: “I loved the video with all the kids and that. I used to have the sleeve painted on my wall. The headmaster.”

Simon: “Ever? David Bowie, ‘Low’. Shall I tell you why? I thought he was a punk, because he had orange hair. I then went out and bought ‘Never Mind The Bollocks…’ after that.”

Brett, were you good at games at school? (Clint Stone, Yeovil)

Brett: “Yeah, I was actually. When you’re young, sport is really important, or at least it was at my school. I held the school record for the 800m for a couple of years. I was a good middle-distance runner. I used to play for the county at football as well.

“It was the only way to avoid getting beaten up. All the bullies tended to leave the kids who were good at sport alone, and not take them into the corner of the field and kick shit out of them. I fancied being an athlete when I was a kid, and then what happens, you get into cigarettes and girls and pop music, and you just end up a fat bloated fool.”

Which member of Suede can drink the most beer? (Mike Crisp, Brighton)

Mat: “Richard, probably.”

Richard: “I don’t think so.”

Brett: “Well, you’re the one who regularly empties their mini-bar wherever we go. Even if we’ve got day rooms. He brushes his teeth with vodka, he does.”

Richard: “Not really.”

Brett: “Well, yes. Who are you trying to kid? This is the man who has a bar in his bag. You sit in the back of a taxi with him and when you get out there’s glasses littered everywhere. That’s no exaggeration. After the pubs shut, you don’t try to find a dodgy offie, you just look in Richard‘s bag. That’s the truth, Mate.”

Simon: “He drinks anything, him.”

What do you say to NME’s editor, who recently included you alongside Ocean Colour Scene, Cast and Reef in a list of bands who “have nothing to say” (NME, April 3)? (Dave Thorley, Shropshire)

Brett: “I don’t think it’s true, to be honest.”

Mat: “There’s always this assumption that if you have something to say, you have to say it in terms of politics and social conditions.”

Brett: “I totally agree. When we’re in places like Germany, we’re always asked, ‘Why are you not political?’ and my answer to that is always the same. If you don’t understand the politics of the songs, then you haven’t looked into them. The songs aren’t flag-waving, they’re more subtle than that.

“I think I’m getting more interested in the music as I’m getting older, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I don’t think you lose that fire for life. As long as you’re inspired and have a real passion and rage for your music, that’s something to say in itself. That’s not a cop-out, that’s just how I feel about music and the band.”

Brett, you’re always photographed wearing a silver bracelet. Who gave it to you? (Samantha Jones, London)

Brett: “It was from a fan, actually. Someone sent it to me for my birthday. It’s just a cheap, silver-plated one, but I like it. I’m quite superstitious, and I wear a lot of my jewellery for that reason. This bracelet is a perfect example, it’s been quite lucky. I wrote lots of the album wearing it, so it’ll continue to be on my wrist until something goes wrong.”

When was the last time you cried, and why? (Gontie Tommy, Belgium)

Brett: “I think the last film that I cried at was Watership Down when I was young. The closing scene was really fucking sad.

“My sister used to read books to me, she liked reading to me so much she used to pay me 2p an hour to listen. She’d read stuff like Watership Down and Lord Of The Rings, and I’d cry at that too.”

Simon: “I don’t think I’ve ever cried while watching a film.”

Brett: “Neil?”

Neil: “Nah.”

Simon: “Oh, he’s a butch lad.”

Day 2 (April 6)

Have you dumbed down your lyrics to the point where they’re patronising to the listener? (Tom Stubbs, Dartford)

Brett: “I don’t think they are patronising. If you want to look for intelligence in lyrics, there’s a lot more of it in simplicity. I think the lyrics to our new album are a lot more intelligent than anything on ‘Dog Man Star’.”

Mat: “There’s a difference between dumbing down and being universal. The majority of people who buy Suede records aren’t English, their first language isn’t English.”

Brett: “When you go abroad people are just mystified about what the early stuff is all about. This is an interview for an English music paper, so everyone knows all the cultural reference points, but there’s a whole world out there and I think it’s important to communicate to them as well.

“As I’ve said before, the blueprint for a lot of lyrics on this album came from reading writers I really like, like Camus. His words are just like a simple painting of a triangle or a square or something. There’s nothing clever-clever about them, they’re just there. They describe a situation with a couple of simple brush strokes. That’s what I was trying to do on ‘Head Music’, and if that’s patronising, then sue me.”

What sort of cigarettes do you smoke? (Laura Pike, Aberdeen)

Brett: “Benson & Hedges. It’s always been the same. Mat smokes Silk Cut, but then he doesn’t count.”

If you could be any character in EastEnders, who would it be? (Sarah Glanville, London)

Brett: “I quite like Matthew Rose. I like the real ones P Matthew, Tony, people like that. I can imagine being one of them, they’re in the same sort of age-band. I really like the Mitchells as well.

“Actually, I think I’d be like Phil in the old days. He’s lost the plot a bit as a character since he gave up drink, but I used to love Phil. I’d regularly have dreams about hanging out with him and Grant, and committing various crimes.”

Simon: “I’d be Ian Beale, because I’ve always wanted to own a 50p/’1 shop.”

Brett: “Everyone hates him though, he’s the most hated man in the square.”

Simon: “Suits me.”

Neil: “I’d be Reg Cox (Reg Cox was found dead in the first episode after never speaking a word P EastEnders Ed).”

Richard: “I’d like to be Nick Cotton, but I don’t think I could pull it off. Every time he’s been in it, it’s been great. The time he tried to murder Dot was brilliant.”

Brett: “The best one was when he came back and pretended to be a Christian. That was really sinister. And I love Dot Cotton. Charlie was great as well.”

Tell us about your brown rice diet… (Johnny Robinson, Kettering)

Brett: “I still eat brown rice every morning. You get hooked on it, because it’s just so clean and good for you. I’m really looking after my body at the moment. I spent so many years abusing it, it’s time to give it a break I think.”

Mat: “I met someone at a Super Furry Animals gig who was such a Suede fan he’d started just eating brown rice. I was trying to convince him that you don’t have to do that to be a Suede fan. He should have seen Brett a few minutes earlier, he had a whole load of prawns stuffed into his mouth.”

Brett: “You’ve got to make sure you get the right sort of rice. It can’t just be brown, it’s got to be wholegrain. What I recommend to our fans is go to a standard Indian restaurant and have a fish masala. That’s very nice. I eat like a horse these days. Brown rice just gives you energy.”

Brett, did you ever want to punch Damon Albarn? (Paperback Rioter, Walthamstow)

Brett: “Punch? Nah, I’m not a violent person. Lots of people have had a go at me, but you just have to learn to deal with it because you’re always going to be a target for someone.”

Suede always seem well-groomed. How vain are you? (Jackie Long, Manchester)

Brett: “Personally, I’m pretty vain. You can only afford not to be if you’re really confident about yourself. If you’re always sticking your face in front of a camera and looking like a dog, you try to do something about it, don’t you? I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror just to iron the creases and get rid of stray bits of fluff.

“Simon‘s quite vain. The first thing he does when he gets into a hotel room is unpack his huge case of toiletries. He’s got five different sorts of aftershave, you name it. So actually, he’s the vainest member of the band, and probably the best dressed.”

Simon: “Yes, I’m glad you’ve noticed my Gucci shirt. Mat‘s got the best shoes, though.”

Mat: “They’re from Prada.”

Richard: “They’ve still got that revolting stain on them.”

Mat: “(Sheepishly) Yeah, someone was sick on them. Me, actually.”

Brett, are you still an eco-warrior (A reference to a recently unearthed school essay in which Brett complained about vandals defacing trees)? (Leonard Brown, Portsmouth)

Brett: “Oh God! I was eight years old. Listen, right, all that stuff from my past, anyone who wants to criticise that, I’d like to ask them what they were like when they were that age. When you’re eight years old you’re not boozing and injecting drugs into your eyes, are you? You’re just into stupid things. And no, I’m not an eco-warrior, it’s not something that keeps me awake at night.”

Neil: “He does live in a tree, though.”

Brett: “I have concessions to a green lifestyle, but it’s only buying eco-friendly washing powder. I’m not obsessive about it.”

Is it true you only listen to your own music and surround yourself with people who admire you in obsessive and fanatic ways? (Moa Ranum, Sweden)

Brett: “No, that’s bollocks. A lot of my close friends are into the band, but there are a lot of friends who’ve never heard a Suede song. A lot of our friends are ravers, and the music we make has no connection with their life at all.”

Simon: “My best friend in Scotland hates us.”

Brett: “I don’t think we’re that fragile that we need a load of people telling us we’re great. I think we’ve grown out of that to be honest.”

Day 3 (April 7)

Does Neil like antiques? (Purple Girl, England)

Neil: “I’m glad you asked me that. Not really, and I hate watching The Antiques Roadshow. It’s always shown in the winter on Sunday evenings, and it’s really depressing. It’s always dark outside. It’s so English, and it’s all part of that dreary idea of what it is to be English. It’s really parochial, seedy, it’s all about poking your nose into someone else’s business.”

People bully me at school for liking Suede. What should I say to defend myself? (Barry Beautiful One, Carlisle)

Brett: “Tell them they’re the cowards. If they have to persecute someone to make their own lives seem better then that’s pathetic. Tell them we’re going to go up to their school and get them.

“I don’t know, when you’re into music at school it says a lot about your identity and personality, and a lot of it was about getting into trouble with other people. You have to break an egg to make an omelette, don’t you?”

Your life depends on collaborating musically with either Damon Albarn or Bernard Butler. Which one do you choose? (Derek Brodie, Manchester)

Mat: “Well, we’ve done one of them, so it would have to be Damon.”

Brett: “What song would we do? We’d probably do a cover of ‘I’ve Got A Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts’.”

Mat: “In a ragga stylee.”

Simon: “He’ll probably phone us up now and demand to know how we knew what he was working on.”

Have Suede become a parody of themselves? (John Rickleford, Kent)

Brett: “Not at all. Part of being in a band is being a parody. I don’t think anyone will listen to ‘Head Music’ and think it’s a parody of Suede. I think what we’ve done on it is develop the sound of the band, but keep to the heart of what Suede‘s all about.

“It’s true that there are certain constants in Suede‘s world that we go back to, but there’s a fine line between repetition and just having a lexicon of words to fall back on. Sometimes I fall the wrong side of it, but I like to have a palette of words that I use, like an artist has a style. That’s part of what makes Suede what they are.”

#suede #press #interview

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