#but making a stupid impulse decision in a split second? i have experience with that. i know how that feels.

[roseworth]

i don’t watch horror movies but one of my big issues with the ones i’ve seen is that they’re so uncreative with why people can’t use their phones. what do you mean everyone’s phone is dead and suddenly no one has signal. personally i think everyone should panic and throw their phones at the murderer when their fight or flight instinct kicks in, insodoing breaking the phones and meaning no one can call for help

[teamxdark]

The sun beat down from overhead, and the scent of salt carried over as the breeze guided the waves to the shore. Below his feet, the captain felt the soft rocking of the ship sway him from side to side, back and forth, a sensation so familiar that he had to concentrate if he ever wanted to notice it.

And, well... He wanted to notice it right then. Anything to keep his troubled thoughts at bay.

Shadow was no captain. He had never considered himself good for the role. He could govern himself just fine, but when it came to a group, the weight of responsibility for others pushed him to his worst.

The problem was that no one noticed it.

The hedgehog lifted his head, keeping a hand on his hat to prevent it from flying away, and looked up at the clear skies, dotted by a few seagulls gliding on the currents up above. A perfect day to set sail, as the navigator had told him; Knuckles had an exceptional sense of direction and the strength of body to carry out duties as the helmsman or at the rudder, even when weathering a storm.

Even though he still sometimes drank himself to sleep to handle the guilt of refusing to accompany her.

A flash of yellow swooped by his periphery, and the captain turned to see Tails hard at work, checking the rigging and assessing the sails. The lad was young but brave, and had exceptional knowledge about the structural integrity of the ship. He could spot issues that most would gloss over, even with years of experience. A prodigy, an asset, an invaluable member of the crew.

Shadow still saw the boy's hands shake as he retied the knots, and he knew he still slept in the same hammock as his brother, worried that he might meet the same fate as her.

"Here you go, Captain!"

Amy's cheerful voice interrupted Shadow's brooding, and she pressed a large sandwich into his hand. "It's the last day we can have bread, unsalted meat and fresh vegetables, so I decided to make everyone something special."

The cook was her own force of nature, with a bright and friendly disposition that made those around her feel calmer and happier, and she made meals so good, even with a limited pantry, that the crew swore she was capable of magic. Yet, Shadow had seen her at the cannons, firing mercilessly at those who threatened them. She never missed a shot.

She still cried into their stew, sometimes.

Amy carried on, bringing the next sandwich to Silver, who thanked her with a kind smile. The cabin boy was the newest addition, a stowaway-turned-crewmate that they couldn't manage to turn away. He was an odd one, optimistic and thoughtful, yet impulsive and filled with a rage that brought the worst storms to shame. His telekinetic abilities helped him keep the ship spick and span all over, and when obstacles couldn't be avoided, it was often he who held the ship together... quite literally.

Shadow knew she would have found him to be priceless.

"Ready to set sail, Captain?"

Shadow held back a sigh and looked over to his first mate. Sonic was leaning over the side of the ship, feeling the breeze hit his face, his eyes serenely closed as he noticeably avoided looking at the water. For someone who didn't know how to swim, Sonic still fit in the crew like a hand in a glove tailor made for it. A jack of all trades, he was quick, decisive, courageous, fearless...

She should have picked him.

Shadow's hand rose to his chest, feeling the bumps and indents of the necklace hidden underneath his shirt, until it stopped over his heart, where the jewel lied.

Pink. Heart-shaped. Not worth much by a jeweller's appraisal, but absolutely priceless to any and everyone on that ship. The true symbol of the captain.

"Sometimes you have to make the value yourself," she had told him as she slipped the stone back under her shirt, safe from view.

"Just about," he finally responded to Sonic, noticing how the other hedgehog's ear dropped a tad before lifting back up.

"Sorry Cap, but it doesn't really sound like it."

Shadow hated that he was right. He hated that he still didn't feel ready. He hated that he had such a fantastic crew that he didn't feel worthy of inheriting.

When he was only responsible for himself, it was one story, but he didn't know if he could stand being responsible for anything that could happen to the rest of them. Shadow knew himself; after so many years of following her orders, so many instances of breaking away from her plans because he needed to figure out something for himself, he had come to a conclusion:

He was selfish, self-centred, and unfit to be the one calling the shots for people who needed someone with a strong mind and a constant focus on the big picture.

Why did you give this to me, Rouge?

Any of them could do a better job. Sonic, though he seemed carefree, commanded attention and loyalty and inspired trust and morale. Amy was a natural leader, responsible and resourceful. Even Knuckles, who still fell for Sonic's dumb pranks, had shown that he could step up to the plate and lead when he needed to.

Shadow had been the wildcard, a mix of a lone wolf and a follower, a gun to be aimed and fired by someone with enough clarity of mind to know what she needed to shoot for in the long run.

Rouge had been the perfect captain, except for one thing.

For some reason, she had named Shadow as her second in command.

"Still comparing yourself to her?"

Shadow's hand fell from his chest. He refused to respond.

Sonic leaned back from the railing, opening his eyes to the sky. "I guess I get it. Big shoes to fill and all that. But no one's a perfect captain, you know. Captain Rouge might have been one of the best there was, but the instant she saw a pretty gem..."

"... we'd get sidetracked," Shadow finished, pressing his lips together. It was true; as great as Rouge had been, she had a weakness, and that weakness was why she wasn't with them now.

"I just wish she had told us where she was going..."

It was a question the crew often asked themselves. Why had their captain run off to find a treasure reputed to have a curse so terrible that the map was torn apart and scattered. Why they had spent the better part of a year sailing around to find the pieces. Why Rouge had put together the map in secret and left to find it alone, leaving Shadow her necklace with the announcement that he was in charge. Why she hadn't taken anyone with her, save for the joking offer to Knuckles to accompany her, which the echidna still managed to convince himself was a true offer as a way to find something concrete to blame for the guilt and fear that he felt. That they all felt.

Shadow had nothing like that. He envied Knuckles in a way for it.

"Think of it this way," Sonic said, once again pulling Shadow from his thoughts. "It's an adventure of our own, and the prize is finding her again."

Shadow clenched his fists, crushing his sandwich in the process. "If she's still alive," he muttered, saying what so many of them were afraid to even think about.

"Hey now, come on--"

"Six months!" Shadow snapped. "It's been half a year and there's been no sign of her at any of the rendezvous points!"

You left us. You left me here, with your crew, and now I have to do what I could never do.

"And that's why we're looking for her, right?" Sonic asked, remaining calm even as Shadow felt his world split apart, yet again, as it did far too frequently when he was left with his thoughts. "That's why you ordered this search. Because you know that giving up on her when there's still a chance is the worst thing you could do for her."

Shadow breathed in heavily through his nose, forcing his hands to unclench. Sonic was right. There was a stupid, dumb, idiotic, pathetic part of him that couldn't accept what he knew should be the truth.

Rouge, if we find you and you're still alive, I'm throwing you overboard myself.

"We set off in two minutes," he ordered, stuffing what was left of his sandwich into his mouth. Next to him, Sonic grinned and gave him a salute.

"Aye aye, Captain."

With that, he was off, no doubt relaying Shadow's order to the rest of them. Shadow, meanwhile, walked to the bow of the ship, looking out to the horizon as he drew the necklace out from under his shirt.

They had no leads. They had a great many countries and vessels after them thanks to their history of heists. The odds of finding anything helpful were so astronomically slim that they might as well be sailing to their deaths.

But if any crew could do it, it was this one.

And Shadow, no matter how little he believed in himself, no matter how much fear he held, had to lead them.

"Sit tight, Captain," he whispered to the necklace's heart-shaped gem. Behind him, he heard the sound of Silver raising the anchor and Knuckles calling out directions to Tails at the helm while he pushed the rudder.

It was time to begin their adventure.

[moonwitchify]

The lonely boy

Green was a lonely boy. He spent most of his childhood training, so he didn't have any time to make friends. There was no one he could befriend there after all. But he was okay with that. He didn't really know what he was missing and, quite honestly, he didn't understand that. It was hard for him to open up, to trust anyone, to let anyone in. He was raised to be a trainer, raised to battle, raised to be alone. He didn't know friendship.

So you can imagine his surprise when some random, impulsive kid, suddenly decided Green would be his rival. The universe also seemed to be having a lot of fun with Green's uncertainty, as they ended up bumping into each other constantly. Red was...a mystery to him. He was like the sun. Optimistic, bright, extrovert, caring, warm... He was the perfect opposite of Green's moon. Yet they always seemed to have some kind of cosmic force pulling them together, and it was starting to drive Green mad.

It was when they accidentally swapped pokemon that he realised he was missing something.

At first, he was confused. What DID Red do to his team? They were acting so...Redly. Green didn't understand. Even Porygon, who kept refusing to follow his commands, was nuzzling to his face happily. Something was missing in his mind but he couldn't quite place it. I mean, his team was acting weird but they seemed...happier. It was a good thing but what WAS it?

As they kept bumping into each other constantly, Red's presence started feeling less overwhelming. Green could only speculate that Red probably realised that he had to be less forceful to get on the rival's good side. Green himself wasn't aware of that at all until he put some thought into it, but he was, undeniably, going soft on Red.

But it was only on their battle that Green finally knew what he was missing.

Red put it clearly on the end of their battle. The battle, it was amazing. Green never felt more alive. He lost, but it was still such a close fight. He was proud seeing how far he's come. And it was obvious that Red helped him get this far. But there was a key feature he was missing. The decisive factor on his loss. "Friendship! But you wouldn't understand...".

Friendship.

Green started at the pokeball in his hand. That was the thing. The thing he couldn't name. He looked up to Red and his rival smiled to him.

Friendship.

Green smiled back.

It was the beginning of a new life for the lonely boy.

He then left to train and everything went wrong: Red disappeared. His mind was in chaos, his heart was in despair. Green never felt so hard the urge to cry. He was surprised at first. Red. The strongest trainer in Kanto. Got kidnapped. Who was so strong to be able to do this?

But then, he realised. Red was gone. His rival was missing. His first and best friend could be...

No.

He immediately stopped the training. He had to rescue Red.

Green wasn't expecting to end up training a young girl in the process. But she had something. A sparkle in her eyes. It was like Red's. Sheer determination that she was taught to convert into battle strength. It was a good way to spend the time he wasn't looking for Red. But every time he looked at her, her smile, her shining eyes. It reminded him so much of Red. Green felt like screaming.

He didn't get a lot of sleep up until Red was safe with them.

They were so busy fighting for their lives that it took Green some time to be hit by the realization that Red was there. His rival was alive. His first and best friend was safe again. He took Red on a walk in the middle of the night and when they were in a safe distance from the girls, Green hugged Red and cried his heart out on his rival's shoulder. He cried all his worries and relieves until he fell asleep. None of the girls questioned the cuddling rivals next morning.

His grandfather got kidnapped because the universe apparently LOVED having Green's loved ones disappearing on him. There was some alien pokemon attacking people and Red apparently fought it. It came as no surprise that Green was worried about Red's situation as it was his first major loss. He tried to comfort his rival, and nowadays he was much more confident on his ability to do so. At this point, they were so close that Red actually was the one and only person that Green went as far as having any form of physical contact with. I know, SHOCKING.

But the whole comfort thing didn't work out and they ended up fighting. Green knew there was a lot on both their heads and that this was probably why the fight happened in the first place, but it still hurt. They were together during most the adventure, but...it wasn't quite right. Green was acting impulsively, had to be held down by Red countless times, they had to do weird stuff so a not-so-sentient old woman would teach them a move and Green was having NO patience with ANYONE for that matter and Red had to keep him from doing something stupid on impulse, which was usually something GREEN would stop RED from. Other than that, their relationship...didn't seem different because of the fight. But the fight was still on his mind.

Despite that, Green was struck with a realization and it felt as if he was struck by lightning. He liked Red. The first thing that gave it away was the way his heart almost stopped as he desperately ran to the ship to see if Red was okay. It came so suddenly that at first he didn't know how to deal with it. On the split second that the possibility that Red could be seriously injured came up, he realised that he couldn't live without his rival.

Then it was the fact that his stupid, idiotic rival, decided it would be a good idea to take off his shirt. Green had NO idea of WHEN he took his shirt off but, ladies and gentlemen, that was the moment the brick hit his head hard. All he could do was try to keep their conversation normal as he not-so-discreetly stared at Red's shirtless body. He wasn't sure if he ended up blushing but he seriously felt like he did. In less than 2 minutes, from the time it took for him to run to the ship and help Red up, he not only realised his feelings were totally NOT platonic, he also had his first gay panic. Why.

And when they thought they could make it, they were turned to stone. And Green. Green just had so much in his mind at this point. But most of it was about Red. Now, he wasn't stupid. He was painfully aware of Yellow's crush on Red. He wasn't sure if she still felt that way, honestly. It was much more obvious when she was younger. Yet Green and Red still had that weird gap between them as a consequence of their fight and he didn't realise how much that was hurting until he noticed how...soft...Red was with Yellow.

It was before they turned to stone.

Red smiled softly as he gave the pokedex to Yellow and Green felt a weird pain on his chest. If Blue noticed, she didn't say a thing, which he was glad for. But then Green was painfully aware that...he might not feel the same. Arceus, it was so much more likely that Red liked Yellow. When Red carefully picked her up and carried her on his arms, Green broke inside. Blue most definitely noticed, but once again, she didn't bring it up. And boy, was Green glad she didn't.

And then, they were petrified, giving Green all the time in the world to think about his recently discovered crush, the fact that it was most probably not mutual and the fact that, for Arceus's sake, they still had that damn fight keeping them apart. It was...horrible, to say the least. He was glad when they were saved and had a fight to deal with. That would keep his mind off the problems that burdened him up to this point. But that was pretty short.

When everything was over and everyone was celebrating their victory, Green found he couldn't bring himself to feel the same joy. Of course, he was glad it was over. But that means that after the storm came the calm. And calm would give Green a lot of time to think about what was breaking him.

Everyone noticed something was off. Green is typically distant, that's pretty normal actually. But not from Red. Red was the exception for everything when it came to Green. However, even from his rival he was distant. Red let the dust set for a bit until he tried talking to him. He sat next to his rival and placed a hand on his back. Green's tense and forced confident posture relaxed immediately and Red smiled softly at him. Green hugged him with all the strength he had left.

-I'm sorry.

Red was confused. Sorry? What was he sorry about? Then, it hit him, and Red found himself feeling incredibly guilty.

-You're...still thinking about our fight?

-Well, I never apologised properly...-Green muttered against Red's shoulder.

Red hugged Green's waist with one hand, the other going to his hair, pulling him closer.

-You dummy. Of course I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago. We both just had a lot on our minds. It wasn't your fault.

Green smiled a bit. They stayed on each other's arms for what felt like forever.

It would be an understatement to say Green adopted half of Kalos, but mainly a kid named X. He hadn't thought a lot about his crush on Red ever since he arrived on the region. He was busy after all. But the whole situation with X and Pinsir just felt overwhelmingly familiar. The agony in which Pinsir seemed to be in when his rival didn't show up... It reminded Green of when Red was kidnapped.

-That sounds romantic.-X smiled.

Green smiled softly.

-Hopefully one day you'll find someone you can call the one true rival of your life.

-Weirdo.-Shauna replied.

Damn, he's got it bad., they all thought.

Alola. A tropical paradise.

Green hated it.

Okay, he didn't hate Alola, but he hated the heat. Who came up to this- damn 30°C and thought "I should live in here". He WAS dying, that's totally not overreacting.

He was called to be one of the Battle Tree's Battle Legends. He heard the other one would be Red and his heart was totally not jumping out of his chest, thank you very much. He knew his rival would accept, and Green himself thought of the job to be an interesting experience. He only realised what the fact that there were beaches everywhere implied when he got there. Red. A Battle Legend with Green. Runing around in Alola in...small swimsuits...SWEATING.

His heart couldn't take it.

And when Red got to the arranged place, Green realised it was SO MUCH WORSE THEN HE THOUGHT WHY ARCEUS.

Red was so beautiful. Even more than when they last met. Green was taller and slim, but Red. Red gained MUSCLES and the fact that he was only wearing swim trunks was killing Green. He blushed so hard he felt like he could explode. But then, under the Alolan sun, Red smiled at him, and everything just felt like home. They met halfway in a hug and they had no idea how long they stayed like that. Red lifted Green off his feet on the hug like he weighted nothing and they laughed.

Then, they stared at each other and time just seemed to stop. Both leaned forward and their lips met.

And it was the beginning of yet another new life for the once lonely boy.

[samanthadalton]

Personality traits for Chloe st James (ABCs)

this is a (late) birthday present for @alleycat97 bc i know how much she loves Chloe. It was definitely fun writing for her character and coming up with traits for her 

taglist: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @fundamentalromantic (sometimes my tags don’t work on my laptop, im not sure why) 

NSFW on some parts but I marked the parts 

A- Attentive 

Being around someone like Poppy means that Chloe is extremely attentive to the small details. She’s always picking up on the little signals and constantly makes sure you’re okay. She’ll literally show up to your dorm at 3am if your texts seem “off” to her and she’s worried you’re sad. 

NSFW- Chloe is very attentive to your pleasure during sex and loves kissing/biting your neck or chest to heighten your pleasure. 

B- Bottom

NSFW- Chloe is definitely a bottom but she’s not a pillow princess. She once got super offended that you called her one and wanted to show you she’s not the type to lie down and take it. Even though she lets you take the reins, she’s super bratty and loves verbally teasing you to turn you on more. 

C- Candidness 

You can always count on Chloe to tell the truth because she has no filter and will say whatever is on her mind. You find it both endearing but annoying sometimes because her lack of filter means she does say a lot of things that may seem rude but you know she means well. 

D- Daredevil 

NFSW- Chloe is definitely too kinky for her own good and is always down to try something new during sex, even though she always lets you take the lead. She’ll gingerly ask you if you want to do whatever new thing she’s found online and show you a bunch of videos on how to do it. 

E- Experience

NSFW- This surprised you but Chloe doesn’t have a lot of experience in the bedroom. When it comes to sex, she feels more comfortable around people she can trust, but her past partners never gave her any security so she never really knew how much of it worked until you. But now she’s breaking out of her shell more and becoming more forward with her likes and dislikes. 

F- Favourite position

NSFW- Chloe’s favourite position is seeing you between her legs, as you pleasure her. She loves eye contact and practically falls apart when your eyes meet as you eat her out. She also loves laying down on the couch with you on top of her, kissing and cuddling her because she feels the safest in your arms. 

G- Goofiness

The more you get to know Chloe, the more goofy you realise she is. She loves acting silly and stupid on purpose just to make you laugh and isn’t afraid to scream to the top of her lungs in public which evokes weird stares from random passerbys but always seems to make you laugh. 

H- Horniness

NSFW- Chloe is the epitome of horniness and loves teasing you which ends up with you dragging her to your bedroom or just doing it right on the sofa. She loves wearing outfits which are purposely revealing, and will try and seduce you by ‘accidentally’ dropping a pen and then bending over to pick it up, showing off her ass in the process. 

I- Impulsive

Chloe tends to be pretty impulsive, acting on her own whim because she either forgets she has anything planned and does something else or she’s sick of living in a controlled environment and just likes to be spontaneous. Her impulsive decisions once led you to a three day weekend in Vegas because she just wanted to play poker (even though she doesn’t know how to play). 

J- Jealousy

Chloe gets jealous really easily, which is something she isn’t proud of but you know it’s only because she loves you so much. Whenever girls get too friendly with you, she’ll loop your arm with hers, pulling you close to your side, before giving a massive show of PDA. Usually nights where Chloe gets jealous ends in quickies in the bathroom, or just leaving the event early just so you can hook up and you can remember that you are hers, 

K- Kinks

NSFW- One of Chloe’s biggest kinks is feet. There’s something unexplainable about it but her biggest turn on is feet. She loves kissing your feet or sucking on your toes because it gets her in the mood. The first time she tried it with you, she was nervous because she wasn’t sure how you would react, but she was glad when you were receptive and enjoyed it. 

L- Lazy 

Chloe loves her lazy days where she can do nothing whatsoever. Because she’s so used to everything being done for her, she usually acts like a queen and will expect you to treat her one, which includes cooking and cleaning.

M- Masturbation

NSFW- Chloe wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of masturbation at first as a result of her inexperience but after investing in a vibrator, she definitely feels better about masturbating as a whole, though she prefers sex. 

N- Narcissism

Chloe is hugely confident about herself, which can be seen as borderline narcissistic but that’s only because she knows she looks good. Back in high school, she was the prom queen and was voted most likely to stay hot (which she was extremely happy about). Chloe does care about looks a lot but that’s only because she was insecure as a child and had to overcome a lot of those insecurities. She’s working on becoming less vain which is working because she complimented Taylor the other day and said she looked good. 

O- Opinionated 

Chloe has a lot of opinions about everything and will let them be known, even if she doesn’t have all the facts. She has a guilty pleasure of reality tv shows and will always explain to you what is going on and who is the worst and who she loves. 

P- Picky

Chloe is a very picky eater and is the type to order chicken tenders and fries or salad from a restaurant when the menu isn’t appealing to her. You’ve been working on expanding her appetite. She definitely has expensive tastes and likes the most bizarre food which makes you wonder why she’s such a picky eater. For example she loves caviar but refuses to eat scallops. 

Q- Quickies

NSFW- Though she prefers sex being sensual and passionate, she does love a good quickie and will be down for one. During parties she’ll drag you to an empty bedroom rather than a bathroom because she’s unsure of what she’ll catch. 

R- Reliable

Chloe is extremely reliant and you can depend on her whenever you need something. Because she’s number 2 at Belvoire she knows how to get things done (even if she has to use other people for it). She’s really good at delegating and is someone you can trust with your secrets. 

S- Scared

Chloe gets scared really easily and hates watching horror movies unless you’re there to cuddle with her. Once when you took her to one of those haunted houses, she fainted because a monster crept up on her and she screamed so much, she ended up knocking herself out. 

T- Toys

NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have any toys but she does have a pair of handcuffs and loves using vibrators during sex. Usually during sex, you’ll put her underwear in her mouth to quieten her or use of her expensive scarfs to tie her hands up. 

U- Useless

Chloe has a lot of insecurities and one includes her not feeling worthy or useful. You often have to reassure her that she is an amazing human being and show her how incredible she is. She’s always so appreciative of your efforts to make her feel better and with you around, she feels like she’s done something right. You’ve been encouraging her to pursue a career in dance, because she absolutely lights up when she’s choreographing a new dance routine for the Zeta’s and you know she’ll do an amazing job. 

V- Volume 

NSFW- Chloe is very loud during sex and will let every sound out. Zoey has complained once or twice (or a lot of times) about the noise but Chloe can’t help it and the moans she makes are like music to your ears. 

W- Wild

Chloe does have a crazy side and after a few drinks, all of her morals, self preservation, self control are almost gone and she’ll let loose. She once flashed a bouncer to let her into the VIP section of the club (which worked) and if you dare her to do almost anything while drunk, she’ll do it without a second thought. 

X- X-ray 

NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have the biggest boobs but they definitely are very perky. She’s slim because dancing helps her to keep fit and can do a split (which drives you a little crazy) and both front and back flips. She’s about 5’9 and she definitely prefers having medium sized hair compared to long. 

Y- Yearning

Wherever you go back home for the holidays, Chloe is always missing you because she’s accustomed to having you by her side. She’ll constantly text/facetime with you to make sure you’re okay but also because she’s missing you like crazy. 

Z- Zodiac

Chloe is super into astrology and you guys play a little game where you’ll watch random strangers and try and guess their signs. She’s always sending you daily horoscopes in regards to your sign and always sends you compatibility posts about your signs. 

[crossdressingdeath]

Whenever I hear someone talking about how JC ‘sacrificed himself’ or ‘gave up his core’ for WWX (I’m paraphrasing a bit but that tends to be the gist of the argument) I always find myself disagreeing because rather than the act of bravery and selflessness that they try to portray it as it always strikes me as a split-second impulsive decision that should have been considered and discarded.

At the end of chapter 110 we find out that JC allowed himself to be caught by the Wens so that WWX would be free. Therefore this is the decision that leads to consequences including the golden core transfer, which lead to the necessity of WWX inventing demonic cultivation and his later inability to return to orthodox cultivation, which was a contributing factor to WWX being reviled by the sects and eventually killed. It’s obviously an important event and a point at which the entire story turns. In a way, this decision puts in motion the chain of events that gives the book its name. And in my opinion, outside of the context of a narrative where this had to happen for the sake of that narrative, it didn’t need to happen.

JC’s internal dialogue at the end of chapter 110 tells us that he spotted a group of Wen cultivators that would soon come across WWX, with the assumption that he would be captured, and so JC chooses to use himself as a distraction. It’s unlikely that he was trying to get caught, or if he just intended to cause a commotion and then disappear, but he was caught, so whatever he may have intended doesn’t really matter. The reason I see this as an impulsive and ultimately unnecessary decision is because of the circumstances surrounding it: WWX is shown in every adaptation to have used a hat as a disguise, furthermore he doesn’t wear any sect colours and he doesn’t have his sword at this point so there’s no reason for anyone to assume he’s a cultivator (and there’s no evidence that cultivators can sense the presence of other cultivators, otherwise XXC would have found XY without needing to hear him and wouldn’t have to be told that this ‘nameless guest’ has some cultivation experience). Even if they do recognise him as a cultivator, out of the two of them WWX is the one who would probably be able to convincingly lie that he’s a solitary rogue cultivator buying food for the road. More than WWX being unrecognised as WWX in the street though, JC’s capture is likely to put WWX in more danger rather than less: the Wens know that JC and WWX escaped Lotus Pier together and that it’s likely they’ve stayed together, finding one of them in this town increases the odds that the other one is here as well and they might increase their efforts rather than focus all of them on JC. Also, it seems that JC didn’t consider that the ‘brother’ who’s been told by both of JC’s parents to protect JC/die for JC would come after him, therefore just setting back any progress or distance they managed in order for WWX to come back for JC and then have to make another escape but this time with fewer distractions they could potentially rely on. These are conclusions JC should have been able to make with a moment of thinking through the consequences of his decision.

This is actually a case where JC’s actions are worse in CQL. In that there’s a scene where WWX tells JC to take care of JYL because she has a fever before he leaves to buy supplies. So there JC not only makes the decision to leave his sick sister alone, he also essentially forces WWX to choose between them. He knows WWX loves JYL, but he also knows that WWX just swore to protect JC with his life. WWX can either stay with JYL and help her escape or he can go to Lotus Pier to rescue JC from the results of his own stupid decisions. He doesn’t even really have any good options — I don’t remember JC ever thanking WWX for the extremely dangerous rescue mission, but you can bet that if WWX had decided to prioritise getting a feverish JYL to somewhere he knew she’d be safe by the time he managed to rescue JC he’d be berated for not dropping anything else for JC, if he was still alive at that point after refusing to eat or drink due to believing himself worthless without a golden core.

To be fair if memory serves the Wens were suspicious of WWX, but yeah. I think it’s pretty clear that JC didn’t intend to get captured and have his core removed; in fact based on his reaction he didn’t even consider it as a possibility. The core thing, at least. It’s not a sacrifice if the person making it didn’t know what the consequences would probably be! It’s like how running blindly into danger isn’t really courage, because to be truly brave you have to consider the risks of what you’re doing. If you don’t consider the danger, you aren’t overcoming your fear of it. JC jumped in to draw the Wens off on impulse; that’s not a sacrifice. Also, it was stupid. As you say, JC charging in like that was likely to draw more attention down on WWX, especially once he was recognised; it’s no secret that JC and WWX are together pretty much all the time, so once the Wens recognised JC they’d realise that odds were that the guy they were approaching was WWX. And yeah, it should’ve been pretty obvious to JC that WWX would come after him, leaving both of them in danger. In fact if memory serves JC never shows any surprise at WWX getting him out, so it’s quite possible he did realise WWX would show up. And like. he could’ve... knocked something over? Shouted? Run over to WWX to warn him? He basically just runs out waving his arms and shouting “Hey, big name target right here!” It’s so stupid. Please... subtlety...

And yeah, in CQL JC fully leaves his sick sister alone and then creates a situation where WWX can either protect her or go after JC? And he would for sure have been pissy about WWX choosing JYL, even after JC chose to protect WWX. Even when JC is trying to help someone else he still causes them no end of trouble...

[weepylucifer]

Let’s Go in the Garden - Ch. 5

Interlude: Thomas

(reader beware: mature content)

It was strange to say the least to have David here again after all these years. (All these years and not a bit of change.) Sometimes Thomas felt that he was hallucinating it (losing his mind at last) or dreaming. But then again, that couldn’t be the case. If this were a hallucination or a dream, things would be easier. They would be happier.

They would be happy.

Thomas had never liked to think - or hallucinate or dream - about how things with David had soured, towards the end. It had been easy to remember the good things exclusively, the companionship, the tenderness, the comfort and thrill and love. David had stayed a joyful memory, despite the tragedy of his (supposed) passing, somehow still an oasis in a desert of grief. Perhaps this had been idealization. It is easy to idealize a dead loved one. It is less easy to keep up that pretense in said loved one’s bodily, live presence.

It was strange, yes. How often had he wished in vain that someone, anyone would come back, just one of them, it didn’t even matter who? Just one other occupied room. Just one person to turn to, when things got rough. Just one person who would understand. Now someone had come back. And not just anyone. David, within reach again, to see, to speak to... to touch. But whenever his hands started reaching out, there was that memory again.

“Well, I just almost got myself and half the men shot for mutiny.”

“Shot for...? Thomas, what on earth did you do?”

“I retracted my opposition. Not willingly, mind you. I am to supervise the rearguard. You, Lieutenant, with your expertise, will most likely be part of the task force that’ll retrieve the actual library.”

“They split us up?! Thomas... do you think they know?”

“What is there to know?”

“Songbird, please...”

“You got what you wanted, Davey. You won. Operation Spatchcock is a go.”

And yet, still, despite all that, he could only ever curtail, never stop, the urge to reach and touch.

It was David, after all. David with that beautiful hair so good for tugging, with his eyes as clear as always, with those sweet, sweet lips. Those capable hands. It was David whose body Thomas knew. Touching would feel like coming home. Touching might piece something back together inside him, something that remained by itself, broken and abandoned and forgotten, for decades and decades.

And there was something scary in that thought. That David might break him open and unearth that hidden something. That there would have to be a breaking. Thomas could not afford to break another time.

So he left David to sit at the dinner table and stare holes into his plate by himself, went and fetched Peter’s finished Latin homework and attempted to peruse it in the drawing room. Peter’s Latin was coming along, at a sedate pace but nonetheless, but today it was abysmal. Clearly he’d had other things on his mind. And who could fault him? After puzzling through the first paragraph of it, Thomas crossed the room to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of Scotch. The bottle was almost (but not quite) as old as he was, and had been nearly emptied slowly, over the decades, a glass or two every other year, because Thomas wasn’t a man who drunk to excess.

He found he couldn’t concentrate on the paper before him as well as he would have liked. Scraps of old, old conversations kept reverberating within his mind, loud today, understandable under the circumstances.

“You’re being paranoid, songbird. I understand, but... I am certain Folly command wouldn’t muster every last wizard of serviceable age just to send them off to die. It will be a tough mission, I’ve no doubt of that. But I’m convinced that we’ll come out on top.”

“Bullshit. It’s hundreds of miles behind the front, David. We’ll be cut off from any reinforcements. Nowhere to fall back to. According to intelligence, the place is a death trap.”

“And who do you know in intelligence? How would you have gotten an intelligence officer to relinquish that information, hm?”

“This is hardly the time. I don’t need to blow intelligence officers to see what’s bloody obvious. You think command cares if we make it through this one? It’s high time you got that pretty head out of your stack of books and faced reality. They’re willing to bet all our lives on this bloody suicide run on the off-chance that someone makes it home with that library.”

“There is considerable empirical value to that library.”

“Oh? That’s what it’s about, eh, for you? You honestly believe that I am going to stand here and let them slaughter my men for ‘considerable empirical value’. My men, David! I’ve got them this far! I’m not throwing them into the meat grinder for your fucking research.”

“Would you prefer seeing said research in the hands of the Nazis? God only knows what they’re doing with it!”

“I would see it in the hands of no one. Chuck a few bombs at the place and bury all of it. Damn you and damn your revenge and damn your research.”

Thomas sighed and poured another glass of Scotch.

Just then, the reason for his discomposure entered the room and sat down in a chair by the fireplace, his back straight, his face resolute, determined. Like he was going to make it work. It irked Thomas, and he didn’t know why, that David wanted to get to the fixing of things. There wouldn’t have been anything to fix if David hadn’t been so stupid as to advocate for the Ettersberg mission.

“May I?” David asked, reaching for the bottle.

“Get your own.” Waspish. Juvenile. Why couldn’t he stop acting like this? Why didn’t he feel like even wanting to try? Thomas lifted a hand to his temples. His eyes stung. He’d been getting very little sleep lately; the return of David shook loose memories, and the night terrors had come back.

David’s face looked soft in the firelight. almost like before the war, when it had been a little fuller. If Molly kept making pies at the rate she was going, he’d soon get back to normal. Thomas clenched his hands in his lap, and it was as if they were sending him little impulses: touch him, hold him, have him. But spurn him, sang his blood, don’t let him near.

It was easier when... he didn’t finish that thought. Didn’t say it out loud either, because that would have been the height of cruelty. It was a lie, anyway. It had not been easier when David had, for all intents and purposes, been dead. It had been... differently complicated.

Thomas went to pour a third glass of Scotch, reconsidered and took the last slug directly from the bottle. It got David’s attention, so he flicked his tongue against the rim of it, just for a split-second, just briefly enough to have plausible deniability. Back in the day, he would have winked. He didn’t now. Tease him, ignore him. Reel him back in, push him away. His heart was loud and clamorous and contradictory tonight. It was like being fifteen again, or no, scratch that, it hadn’t been... he hadn’t been nearly as complicated at fifteen. He’d only known that he found the boy who tutored him and sometimes came to watch the rugby exceedingly pretty, so he had brought him wildflowers plucked from the wayside, and cakes nicked from the kitchens, and helped carry his books and quizzed him for tests and took him along for nightly excursions and eventually asked to kiss him behind the shed for the cricket equipment.

For practice, he’d said. An experiment, David had said. It doesn’t have to mean anything, they’d both agreed. But then they’d actually managed, somehow, to bump their lips together, and Thomas had been thinking, oh, and yes and so good and I’m never doing anything else but this. And eventually they’d had to admit to each other that the experiment only ever yielded a need for repetition, and they weren’t practicing for anything. Neither of them actually desired a girlfriend like most of the other boys at Casterbrook. They desired each other, and kissing behind the shed for the cricket equipment, forever.

Oh yes, he had known at fifteen, at eighteen, at twenty that what they were doing could have seen them ruined, jailed, ousted from society. It had been a thrill to his young mind, a scandalous secret, an adventure. The glamour had worn off of it as they grew older, as their schoolmates were settling down with wives and children and summer houses in the country and Thomas and David were still sneaking around like teenagers, and ducking behind tiring pretenses and stupid rumours and Molly’s skirts for their safety. But that had just been what their relationship had naturally been like, a mundane fact of life, like taxes. And then there’d been the men with the pink triangles. The stark and final reminder that nothing about having to exist thus in secret was thrilling or mundane, that the people around them genuinely wanted them dead.

But everything had gone to hell in a handbasket by then anyway.

Thomas set the empty bottle down, and it hit the table a bit harder than intended. His hand-eye-coordination was already slightly off. Besides that, his face was starting to warm, in a way that told him that it was about time to retire from drinking any more before things seriously went south. But he didn’t want to listen to the voice of reason tonight. He wanted to listen to the voice that said, perhaps another glass.

So he traversed the room again and unearthed another bottle from the liquor cabinet. Walking straight wasn’t a problem - yet. Thomas wasn’t, usually, a man who drank to excess. But exceptions must be.

He had just poured the third glass when David asked, “What were you reading?”

Thomas gestured vaguely at the papers still spread out on the coffee table. “Tacitus. It’s Peter’s homework.”

“Oh,” David said. “Can I help you revise it? You seem tired, and I always had a hand for--”

“No,” Thomas cut in and poured the contents of his glass down his throat in one quick, decisive movement. “I told you before, and I was very serious: I won’t have you interfere with Peter’s studies.”

David sniffed. “But I am allowed to talk to him, aren’t I.”

“I suppose. I’m thinking about it.” Thomas looked from his glass back to David, meaning to give him a stern glare, but his eyes ended up roving, caught on the lines of David’s face, slightly unfocused. Here he was, back here, to touch. They’d kissed earlier, down in the lab, and maybe Thomas had hoped that after that, things would appear easier, clearer, somehow. But nothing was easier. He’d hoped, in secret, not even going so far as to articulate this to himself, that a kiss would put them back on an even keel, erase the clamour in his heart, restore tranquility to him. But nothing was tranquil. In fact, he hadn’t desired like this in a long time. He’d gotten one kiss, nowhere near enough to slake this suddenly recurring need.

“Come to bed with me,” he suggested.

“What?” David exclaimed with an incredulous little laugh. “You don’t trust me to go over your apprentice’s Latin homework, but you’d take me to bed?”

“Yes.” It really didn’t seem too extraordinary a stance to take. Peter’s studies were meaningful in the greater scheme of things. Sex wasn’t. “Personal is not necessarily the same as important.”

David shook his head. “I never could agree with you on that.”

To keep his hands and mouth occupied, Thomas poured himself another glass of Scotch, and downed it quickly. He was beginning to lose count of how many glasses deep he was. But that hardly mattered, because it made his lips tingle and it burned on the way down and the reasons why he didn’t want to touch David now were swimming out of focus.

“I had hoped it would be different,” David said, “our first time back home.”

Thomas couldn’t help it, he had to laugh. Our first time back home. “Davey,” he said, and it came out rougher than intended, “you’ve hoped for many things.”

“That’s true,” David murmured. “I suppose you were right, back then. It really was high time I faced reality.”

And this... was wrong, that David should suddenly talk like this. He’d much rather have naively optimistic David with his head stuck in a textbook than this broken, humbled version. Reach, touch, Thomas’s heart whispered, and it was easy to forget why it was a bad idea. Thomas reached, put a hand on David’s cheek, ran the pad of his thumb across David’s sweet mouth. David shivered, lips opening in a gentle gasp. It felt familiar in a way Thomas had forgotten things could feel. Like reaching back across the decades, and it was a miracle that his fingers remembered, even ever so slightly, what it was like to touch David’s face.

Suddenly, something dark clawed at his chest, something frenzied, almost like panic, because how could this be, this ghost of a sensation, remembered from all these years back, how could it be that this was real, brought to life again? Suddenly he feared that if he closed his eyes, and opened them again, David might have disappeared.

There was but one thing for it. Closer. More. Now their bodies were flush against each other, their lips crashing together, greedy, desperate, ungentle. Thomas fisted a hand in David’s hair - David whimpered so prettily against his lips - the other hand pulling up his shirt to get at the skin beneath, warm, living skin. The planes of David’s body pressed against his front, so familiar. His head spun, and fear threatened to drown him, choke him, so he sought salvation in David’s mouth, licking inside, kissing him frantically. Oh, he had been starved of this, and one kiss was not enough, so he kissed him another time, and another, and another.

“Mh... Thomas...” David disengaged, shifting back a little in his seat, a hand coming up to cup Thomas’s face. He sucked the index and middle finger into his mouth without hesitation.

“Thomas... shsh... you’re, this is not... you’re shaking, please stop, just a moment.”

David‘s other hand came to rest on Thomas’s shoulder, maintaining an arm’s length of distance between them, and it irritated Thomas, being so pushed away. Was he shaking? Maybe. But what did that matter? He could figure that out later, or never. He put a hand on David’s thigh and leaned forward against the hand gripping his shoulder, trying to chase David’s lips. “Now you’re complaining, Davey?”

“No, but...” David got up. Thomas, attempting to follow him, swayed into him, and steadied himself by in turn holding onto David’s shoulders. Whoops. Hopefully that looked like he’d meant to do that.

“See, you’ve been drinking,” David said. “It’s not right. Let’s just get you to your bed, okay, and I’ll get to mine.”

“Or...” Thomas flicked David’s chest with his index finger to stress his point, “we’ll both go to my bed and stay there and see what develops.”

David shook his head softly. “Another time.”

“What makes you think I’ll offer another time?”

“We love each other.” David’s voice was steady, his gaze clear and firm, and it rubbed something raw within Thomas, something that did not like being so exposed at all. “That is the one thing I am still sure about, even in this new world, even after the war, even after... that place. We will figure things out, but not tonight.”

Thomas laughed, a bitter, mirthless bark of a sound. Because he’d been impossible to David ever since he had returned, he hadn’t been able to contain any of the ugly slurry of his feelings, and he hadn’t been able to afford David even the slightest shred of courtesy, and yet here David was, talking about how they would definitely figure things out. “What if we don’t figure things out?” he asked, breaking contact, disentangling his limbs from David’s. “What if I don’t want to? What if I won’t want to figure things out with the man who led us all to go to Ettersberg?”

David bowed his head, his eyes now hooded, dark. “I’d understand that.” He took a step back, in the direction of the door. “Do you want to break up?”

It was a genuine offer. David was offering.

Do you want to break up?

Had he taken another step back? He was so far away. So, so far away. It was too dark in the reading room and he was slipping away, away into the past again, no longer in reach to touch, and maybe it was really just the darkness of the reading room, maybe it was Thomas’s vision going black around the edges, and he trembled, and he ached,

and he was close again somehow, hands clawed into David’s sweater, his head buried in David’s shoulder, breathing in his scent in horrid, flat, hitching gasps.

“No,” he muttered, when he had the air for it. “No. No, no.”

“Songbird.” David sounded saddened, startled. The nuances of David’s voice, suddenly again familiar. There was a hand down his back, a hand in his hair stroking along the hairline, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp in a way he’d forgotten he found comforting. David hadn’t forgotten. “Oh... Thomas. You’re not okay.”

It ought to have been ridiculous, you’re not okay. As much was evident. But he couldn’t recall ever hearing it said, and it did something to him, and he held on to David’s shoulder like it was the only anchor in a sea of chaos, and he didn’t know how to ride this out, so he clung and waited and the tide tossed him about and did not recede.

“I forgot what you smelled like,” he heard himself say, detachedly. “The sheets in your room lost your scent eventually, and then all your clothes did because I wore them, and it almost broke me a second time, because I was losing more and more of you with each passing day and you weren’t coming back to renew anything. I forgot what it was like to touch you. The sound of your voice. The feel of your signare. The feel of your hand.”

“Eighty years,” David whispered. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t understand.”

No, Thomas wanted to say, no you damn well didn’t, but he couldn’t. All he could do was cling to David’s shoulder and be battered by this, wrenched open by his care. Walking wounded.

“But I’m here now,” David continued. “I will take care of things.”

Somehow, Thomas found his voice again. It sounded strange to his own ears. “What things? What will you take care of?”

David looked at him, so earnestly it hurt to observe. “Anything needs must,” he said. “You.”

“But I am not for taking care of,” Thomas said. He didn’t know why he said it. Except... here is my duty, mine, alone. Do not suggest you will relieve me. There was never any relief. There will never be any relief.

“Oh, songbird, but aren’t you?” David asked. “The others, they all went into the country and attempted to heal, or they are at rest forever. When did you rest?”

“I...” Thomas tried to gather his resolve, put the walls back into place that David was wearing down with all these questions, and he found he couldn’t. He felt... once, as a child, he had watched Mother dispel slugs from her rose garden by pouring salt on the creatures. He, then five years old, had burst into tears at the sight of the slugs squirming impotently to get away as they succumbed to the fatal substance, and he’d tried to wrestle the jar of salt from his mother’s hand when tears wouldn’t stop her, and received a thorough scolding for it. He felt like one of those slugs now: soft and unwitting and utterly defenseless before an almighty fate. Tomorrow, the walls would be back in place. Tomorrow he would be The Nightingale again, unapproachable and aloof. But not tonight. Tonight he was soft and lonesome and powerless and there was nothing but the dark of the reading room, the alcohol making swirls in his head, and his boyfriend, sweetly returned from the dead.

“I... don’t,” he said. “I didn’t.”

“That’s not right,” David said. His hand was still in Thomas’s hair, stroking in a way that was infinitely soothing, blunt fingernails against his scalp. “That shouldn’t have been asked of you.”

Well, life doesn’t care about shouldn’t, Thomas wanted to say, it simply was asked of me, even when I was in so deep I could barely lift my head they were asking it of me, and not least because you weren’t there, because you ran away, but what he ended up saying, murmuring into David’s jumper rather, was “They needed me.”

David snorted. “Command? You never--”

Thomas shook his head. “The lads did.”

“Ah, yes. Your ducklings.” The smile was audible in David’s voice.

It had been a joke between them, Nightingale’s Ducklings. The younger and younger recruits they had kept sending down from London in the latter years of the war. Fresh-faced youths, barely of age, looking like they’d been playing dress-up in their uniforms. Some of them scared, some of them vigorous and over-eager to prove themselves to the more seasoned veterans, most of them now dead. Thomas had tried, whenever possible, to do his utmost to protect the boys, but tossed up against a place like Ettersberg, there had been no protecting anybody.

“And how are the chaps anyway? I’m assuming you’re still in contact with them all?” David chuckled. “Oh goodness, they must be old men by now!”

“I’d like to go to bed now,” Thomas said.

“Hm? Oh of course, of course.” Getting what he wanted, David was quickly distracted from his previous line of inquiry. I do know him so very well, Thomas thought disjointedly as David wrapped an arm around his waist. On autopilot - even still! - Thomas slung his arm across David’s shoulders in return. They’d done this on unnumbered pub crawls, then later on similarly unnumbered battlefields. “There we go, ay-up, Captain.”

“I can walk,” Thomas protested, even as his head dropped back onto David’s shoulder. Really, he wasn’t that inebriated. Slightly tipsy, that was all.

“In a straight line?” David questioned.

“That won’t be a problem.”

David sighed airily and nosed into his hair. “Let me have this, Thomas.”

----

Thomas tried again, when he had David in his bedroom kneeling before him (between his legs) at the foot of the bed, as David took his hand and unbuttoned his cuff and pressed one chaste kiss to his wrist. It made Thomas shudder, being so kissed, and seconds later he was reaching almost blindly for David’s face again, tugging him up, crashing their mouths together, wanting David’s lips on his, wanting David’s lips all sorts of places. But David broke the kiss and smiled at him, a smile full of such love as he didn’t deserve, and didn’t budge, even when Thomas slipped his right shoe off and ran his foot along David’s inseam.

David gasped, and twitched a little, but he said, “No, songbird. Another time.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Thomas said, which he hadn’t meant to, in a strange, rough voice that sounded much more 1940s than 2010s. Why on earth had he said that? Tomorrow he would remember all the very good reasons for not recommitting to anything where David was concerned. But tonight he was wanting, nothing else.

“I hope so,” David replied as he got up and smiled sadly, because oh, he knew those reasons too. He bent down one last time and ran his thumb across Thomas’s cheekbone, and kissed him again, a soft, small peck, a kiss goodnight. “Sleep well.”

And he went back to his own room.

So bereft of company and the warmth of David’s body, Thomas groaned and pressed the heel of his hand into his crotch. Somewhere along the way wanting had become needing, and now he was alone with it. As always, alone with it.

For a split-second he considered going and getting his entertainment elsewhere. Peter was in tonight, some few rooms over, perhaps this would be the night he finally tried to... but no, that thought was, as always, firmly tamped down, because Peter’s pregnant girlfriend was a woman of formidable power, and besides, there was never any use to any attempts upon the tragically heterosexual. He hadn’t considered Peter in such a manner at all lately, what with David around again, so perhaps this was one of these rare problems that solved themselves.

His pool of potential applicants already depleted, Thomas took himself in hand. He hadn’t felt the need to do this in a while, and didn’t expect to last any time at all. As if a tightly locked floodgate had been opened, his mind conjured up images of David, things he hadn’t let himself think about in decades and decades lest the grief make him lose his mind for good. But the memories were no longer tinged with grief now, because David was back, and his mind delighted in recalling again the lines and dips and curves of David’s body and being able to do so freely, without the crushing sadness of permanent loss.

David before the war, softer then, solid, (he still was too thin now) no shell-shock dulling the light in his eyes. The sensation of tracing the dip of David’s hips through the soft fabric of one of his jumpers, the hard line of him in his slacks, backing him up against a bookshelf in the mundane library (so risqué but oh, so thrilling) and listening to his breath deepen, sticking a hand down his pants, being greeted with the velvet heat of David’s cock, watching David’s face pinch and, eventually, release, going from biting his lips raw and red in an effort to not be overheard to slack-mouthed pleasure. David’s mouth just now, so pink and slick from their kissing, David kneeling between his legs and where that might have gone, in another, ideal world. While Thomas very much loved giving oral, he knew with David the receiving was just as sweet. He imagined them taking a night and just alternating sucking each other off until they collapsed in bone-deep, delicious exhaustion into dreamless sleep, and he felt his hips cant upwards into his fist with renewed need, and gripped himself just this side of too tight. Yes, god, he thought, my David.

At about this point Thomas noticed himself crying, a clear stream of tears down his cheeks, but they felt cathartic, so he left them. His heart was light. He had done this once or twice just after the war, brought memories of David to the forefront of his mind for this express purpose, simply exhausting any possibility of chasing a few seconds of relief from it all. The resulting crash and burn and slew of self-disgust when he’d inevitably remembered his boyfriend (supposedly) blowing his brains out in this very building had never been pretty. (He’d considered turning to drinking to excess then for a bit, until Molly had put her foot down regarding that.) Tonight he knew there would be no crashing and burning, because David was just down the hall, hale and whole and sleeping the sleep of the less-than-innocent.

He had flagged a bit, with the crying, so Thomas sped up his hand and remembered that week they’d spent at David’s father’s hunting lodge, the two of them alone in the empty countryside, free to share the bed in the master bedroom, free to wake next to each other and make early-morning love unhurriedly, free to prepare breakfast in the nude and take it back to bed. They’d been younger then, and made love almost unflaggingly, pausing intermittently to eat and generally observe life’s basic needs, only for this moment or that to start another round, and before they’d known it they’d come together again, fevered with need for each other, drunk on all this unobserved alone time.

My Folly now, Thomas thought disjointedly, we can do it in every room we never used to dare to, and he released another moan as he felt himself cresting, and the back of his head hit the headboard with a thunk as he came, came and came with the force of his lonely years, eking the moment out and stroking himself to overstimulation, until his hips twitched and his whole body shook with the pleasure-pain of it. And if he fell asleep in the wet patch before he could gather the resolve to get up and fully undress, half in déshabillé with himself still in hand, it certainly was undignified, but there was no one there to witness it.

[undonesarc]

               *   𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒕      //      repost,  don’t  reblog !

𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺  :

FULL NAME. augustus hugo suarez. NICKNAME. shortens his first name to august, and has since childhood, but he’s most predominantly referred to as romeo, the nickname he was christened with upon entering the criminal world because of how ‘pretty’ he is. he owns this nickname, and since entering a life of crime genuinely instead of just as an undercover, it’s his go-to for introductions, even in settings where it’s not necessarily needed (i.e., not on a job.) he’s open with acknowledging august as his name, too, but he’s really taken to romeo. GENDER.    cis man. HEIGHT.   5′8″. AGE. 38.  ZODIAC. scorpio.     SPOKEN LANGUAGES.   (castilian) spanish is his native tongue (but he is familiar with latin american variants), english, american sign language, and very basic french.

𝑷𝑯𝒀𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺  :

HAIR  COLOR. black.  EYE  COLOR. a dark brown that mostly seems black, depending on the lighting. SKIN  TONE. bronze might be the right word?  BODY  TYPE.   strong, muscular, highly and almost compulsively athletic.  VOICE.  he’s “uncharacteristically” soft-spoken, at least as far as what’s expected of a guy who looks like him. there’s a faint trace of a spanish accent, but he’s been known to exaggerate it, mostly because he thinks it makes him more attractive, fading more with every year.  DOMINANT  HAND.   right-handed. POSTURE.  he doesn’t ‘slouch’, but there’s an obvious relaxation in the way he carries himself, though he’s also sure and vaguely professional, but it isn’t actually law enforcement professional. he never took to “acting” like a cop, which is why he was better undercover than in a uniform. SCARS. a few nicks here and there, but the most notable are a gunshot wound on his left bicep and one down his right arm (from elbow to wrist) from an accident on his stepfather’s farm. TATTOOS. to be determined. i don’t picture him having many, but a few little tiny ones here and there from his years spent traveling are possible. BIRTHMARKS.   n/a. MOST NOTICEABLE  FEATURE(S). his smile, mostly because his canines are really sharp, natural fangs, and he has a more-than-slight gap between his front teeth (but this doesn’t bother him in the slightest, and he’s never wanted to get it ‘fixed’.) he has lots of freckles on his nose and cheeks, too, and they garner a lot of compliments.

𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑫  :

PLACE  OF  BIRTH.   valencia, spain. HOMETOWN.   valencia, spain. SIBLINGS. n/a. PARENTS. clara and alvaro. he’s kind of estranged from both. august hasn’t seen his father, alvaro, since the age of 16, and he’s perfectly content to keep it that way. his mother, clara, has remarried an american named michael, but august doesn’t see her new husband as a father in any way, despite michael’s attempts to get august to open up to him (and constantly calling him son, because he loves august, even knowing august doesn’t feel the same). august hasn’t spoken to his mother in a few years beyond some brief texts and phone calls; he hasn’t seen her since he was 21. he loves her, but he feels his life is really complicated now, and she’s finally in a good place and happy with a man who actually cares for her, and he doesn’t want to ruin that.

𝑨𝑫𝑼𝑳𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑬  :

OCCUPATION. ex-undercover cop, now a full-time criminal. CURRENT  RESIDENCE. atlanta, georgia. CLOSE  FRIENDS. he's a new character, i haven’t done any plotting yet, so as of now? none. hmu if you want to change that :) RELATIONSHIP  STATUS. single.  FINANCIAL  STATUS. working class. DRIVER’S  LICENSE. yes.   CRIMINAL  RECORD. no. VICES. he’s incredibly impulsive and it just ruins his life constantly.

𝑺𝑬𝑿 & 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬  :

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION. bisexual. PREFERRED  EMOTIONAL  ROLE.    submissive  |  dominant  | switch   PREFERRED  SEXUAL  ROLE. submissive  |  dominant  |  switch LIBIDO. medium. TURN  ON’S. confidence, strength, people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or raise their voices and challenge the world and its expectations. timidity doesn’t work well with him, since he acts so brashly and without thought most of the time, and he prefers people who can keep up and are willing to put up with his spontaneity. on a more physical aspect, he likes it when people - of any gender - are taller than him, but he’s not so shallow that it’s a complete deal breaker. he’s very much an extrovert and gravitates towards people who are the same. TURN  OFF’S. people whose ‘loudness’ is just rudeness.  RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  he’s not good with commitment; he’s only had two real relationships in his life, one which, surprisingly, lasted two years, with a man in new york, when he was 21; august sees this as his only experience with real love. it ended because he felt august was still too childish in many ways, because august felt he took things too seriously, and so they decided to end things amiably before anyone got hurt, because their lives were just too different - but august still got a little hurt anyway, and it’s affected the way he views romance to a certain degree. his second ‘real’ relationship was with a woman in D.C., but she ended things in favor of furthering her political career, and didn’t see him as the type to fit into that scene, which only furthered his distaste for commitment, feeling like it’s too big, and like he’s never going to be equipped for it, because that’s how people keep treating him. he has a few connections that last a couple weeks every now and then, and then a handful of one-night stands, but he does wish for something deeper sometimes, especially as he grows older, as he’s finally beginning to really mature.

𝑴𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺  :

CHARACTER’S  THEME  SONG.  fearless by pink floyd. HOBBIES  TO  PASS  TIME.  hiking, running, watching soccer, visiting art exhibits, recreational and lowkey boxing, and writing - he’s been writing short stories for a while now, has a good chunk of a novel done, but it’s all only for him; he doesn’t have any intention to publish them. LEFT  OR  RIGHT  BRAINED.    i’m not smart enough to figure this out PHOBIAS. deep water and airplanes. SELF  CONFIDENCE  LEVEL. definitely..... higher than what’s accepted. he loves himself a lot, thinks highly of his abilities, the way he looks, just his general presence. he thinks he’s a good friend. he rarely ever doubts himself, and it definitely comes across as annoying, but he also doesn’t care if people get annoyed by it. he’s happy and he’s thriving. VULNERABILITIES. his impulsiveness, because it was impulsion that caused him to leave home, become a cop, inevitably betray the cops and switch sides... he makes split-second decisions and it’s just stupid and terrible of him, he rarely stops to think about what happens two or three moves from the one he’s currently making, and it’s going to be what kills him, eventually.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀    — @armsdealing 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮    — @sabortooths, @constantwar​ 4 heath, @wanlidas​ 4 aaron

[fruitcakeish]

You're not at all upset with Lukes fate? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the movie as a whole or just with Luke in general. I know a lot of people are disappointed but I'd love to hear from someone who is actually happy with it

I honestly have a lot to say about the movie as a whole and about all of that. It’s nothing but good things, too, because I think there needs to be a lot more positive things said like the movie wholeheartedly deserves.

As a whole, I think the direction Rian took with this movie was very much needed by this franchise and I think it really began to sum up what this whole franchise was always leaning towards since the beginning of time. It held lots of ambiguity and it was a very brave step indeed, character wise and overall storyline wise. I think it was handled beautifully and while sure, it did have some flaws, as every movie does, I don’t honestly think enough people are giving it the praise it deserves. I know everyone is entitled to their own opinions, which is fine, storylines like this are going to get jumbled up audience reactions of all kinds but I just genuinely think it was one of the most beautiful Star Wars movies yet, especially for the middle movie, which is going to have the majority of conflict and downfalls. What did people expect, two hours and fifteen minutes of rainbows and butterflies? And honestly, the majority of people did and that’s their fault. Thats not what the middle movie is supposed to do. Anyways, try and hear me out as I go topic by topic.

Firstly, I just want to talk about what everyone is so worked up over and that’s Luke Skywalker’s arc in The Last Jedi since that’s really the easiest and what will lead me into talking about other areas of the movie. Luke Skywalker is known for his heroic acts and being one of the greatest Jedi in the galaxy and where this movie took him sort of makes people think that’s pretty much ruined or it wasn’t “the Luke Skywalker that we all know and love”, which is understandable, but I just don’t exactly think that’s 100% true. Who says his arc in The Last Jedi has to ruin his character? That’s just the voice of people being whiny and pessimistic. If anything, I think it gave him more complexity and ambiguity as a character which ultimately, to me, made him much more interesting. People are acting like Luke was this perfect God, when in reality, even in the originals he most definitely had his flaws. All hero’s do. Not every hero is going to stay strong and determined every second of their life. You can’t expect that of any hero, it’s unrealistic. And to me, any character that faces no struggle makes an incredibly weak and boring storyline for a character. If that’s what people expect of characters, well in my opinion, it says much more about them as a viewer than it does the actual storyline of the character. So all in all, I think the direction Luke went in was incredibly realistic given his whole experience with the Jedi Order. It would have to show struggle on his end at some point. Let’s be real. People need to stop expecting unrealistic things and perfection from writing. Because then when that happens, everything becomes “too boring and predictable.”So it’s just ridiculous and honestly makes no sense to me. Honestly, take it or leave it. But don’t go running around saying Luke Skywalker and the whole franchise is ruined. Because that says way more about you than it does anything else.

Another thing I know people are going ballistic over is the fact that Luke Skywalker thinks the Jedi need to come to an end. If anyone actually watched the movie, they’d realize it’s not the last of them. It’s only the last of the Jedi that obviously did not work out. Since the beginning of the time, there was always the Jedi and then the Sith, the Light Side and the Dark Side. The beginning of the franchise has always been about the opposing sides going at each other and seeing who can win, which I get people took enjoyment with, but when you really look deep into that, you’re going to realize that nothing can be black and white forever. It doesn’t solve anything and there is just no balance whatsoever, which is what the Force needs. The Force is not something that can be black and white. It’s a universal energy, therefore it is one with everything. Light and Dark. The Jedi strived for balance and yet they ignored parts of themselves that were so natural, like their dark side, as the Sith did, as well, with their light side. Where’s the balance or good in that? Taking sides, especially in how they did it, was only going to continue to be a nasty cycle. Vader failed, Luke failed, all because they weren’t balanced. They thought they were doing the right thing and as time went on, everything continued to fail and Luke began to realize this. Yoda realized it the whole time. All of the past mistakes were going to have to lead up to all of this at some point. Anyone who denies the fact that the Jedi were just as arrogant as the Sith are just as bad as them, to be honest. Luke began to realize all of this as he looked on all of the negative things that happened because of the opposing sides and who says this wasn’t a heroic act? Everyone thinks being heroic is fighting with a lightsaber and killing all the bad guys, but where is the ambiguity and interesting quality in that? Luke Skywalker is the first one to admit to all of this and he’s passing on the knowledge in order for Rey and Ben to carry this out. He’s carrying out a major heroic act and people don’t even realize it. Being heroic doesn’t always mean someone needs to be fighting. Sometimes the fighting has to end and this is one of the most heroic choices a hero can make. Fans are always talking about how they want gray jedi or a more broad range of Jedi but if you pay attention, we’re literally about to get Force users who are much more interesting and badass then the Jedi and Sith alone. So why people are upset, I have no damn idea.

With that being said, comes the whole topic of Luke attempting to kill his nephew Ben in his sleep and how this, too, is another example of why this is “no longer the Luke Skywalker” we know. Again, total bullshit. People are acting like Luke Skywalker never had an ounce of darkness or impulsiveness i him. Everyone does. Star Wars is a story about how not everything is black and white, no matter how much the characters think so. There is light and darkness in everyone, even the most heroic of people. The only reason why people ignore this is because when it comes to heros, they’re only focused on their good qualities. Luke struggled with the darkness from day one, as did Anakin. When you repress the darkness within you instead of learning how to work with it and transform it, you’re going to make stupid decisions, which the Jedi did again and again. It never worked out, Nobody is perfect, I cannot stress that enough and Luke is far from it. Do I think he would of killed Ben in his sleep? No. Luke has always been rather impulsive, we’ve seen it in the originals. Yoda even said he couldn’t train him because of such things and as Luke began to train Ben and see the darkness within him, the same bias thoughts took over, which led him to try and kill him. I don’t necessarily think Luke would have killed his nephew, I think it was just a spur on the moment thing. It only looked horrible considering what came out of it. If Ben hadn’t woken up, I’m sure we would’ve seen Luke lower his saber. Plus, there’s a reason why they showed the flashback a bunch of times; each one was warped into the others view of the other person. For example, in Bens, we see a more darker Luke who seems to strike Ben with no hesitation, which is probably because we were seeing it from Bens perspective and from what we know, Ben hates Luke. Of course we’d see a more darker Luke through the eyes and thoughts of Ben. But when we see it through the perspective of Luke, we get the impression that he wasn’t actually going to do such a thing and how he realized he had failed Ben. We see a more defeated Luke. It was mainly everything that Luke began to doubt about the Jedi that began to take over him.So overall, when you really look deeper into it, on Luke’s part, it was an incredibly human and realistic thing. He was terrified of the darkness, he lost his father because of it and he probably didn’t want the same fate for his nephew. And by acting on his impulses, of course he’d think of doing such thing for a split second. That doesn’t mean he was going to do it. Luke went through a lot with the Light and Dark side in his lifetime and I’m sure hearing demonic like thoughts coming from your nephew would scare the hell out of you and cause you to act on instinct. Our instincts aren’t always the best things but he did stop himself because Luke does have self control. So overall, people really need to stop taking things at face value and people need to stop looking at things in such a black and white matter. He’s always been the same Luke, in my opinion.We’ve just seen more of his downfalls in this movie and why does that need to be a bad thing?

Lastly, the last thing I wanted to mention was Luke’s death, because, no surprise, people are incredibly unhappy with it. I personally think Luke went off in a very peaceful way. Could it have been avoided? Yes. But was there great purpose to it? Yes. And that’s what matters. If there wasn’t any purpose to his death, then I can see the issue, but there was. Just because it wasn’t the purpose or ending that some people wanted, doesn’t mean it wasn’t good. Personally, I don't view Luke’s death as I do Han’s. Luke became one with the Force like Obi Wan, he didn’t just die. For me, having Luke Skywalker die doesn’t feel like a loss for that exact reason. In the originals, Obi Wan had great scenes as a Force Ghost and this obviously isn’t the last time we’ll see Luke. It’s not sad or disappointing at all because he still can be a major part of the rest of the story. And I think him being one with the Force now is the perfect way for him to be. I think it’s very symbolic. I view it as an ending to all of the conflict he suffered and for him to start anew and to guide Rey and Ben, who ultimately will be the ones to transform the Jedi order into what it needs to be. Luke Skywalker represents the Force and now he gets to be one with it. I also think him going out was another heroic act, just not in the way everyone expects or always thinks. I think the whole purpose of Luke and Hans death was to save Ben, who will ultimately carry on both legacies. Hans obviously hurts way more, but on Luke’s end, I think it was a heroic act in trying to save his nephew, as well as just having his time and becoming one with the Force. I mean, cmon. Luke Skywalker had his time. The originals were his story and showed his prime time. This movie just so happened to focus on his struggles. But who says something beautiful can’t come out of them? The whole Jedi Order is about to become what it needs to be. Something beautiful always comes out of a struggle. People just need to realize that Luke didn’t exactly die; he’s become one with the Force and is living on in the way he deserves to and should be.

So yeah, there was my overall take on what pretty much everyone hates about the movie, particularly Luke. Star Wars is a franchise about many things and some of those things are Hope and seeing the good in everything. Yet for some reason, some of the so called “die hards” can’t even do the same as viewers of the movie. I completely understand that people become emotionally attached to characters and they have their expectations of them and are very protective but I genuinely do think people need to look deeper into what is happening here and not just taking it all at face value. Everything that is happening within The Last Jedi has a wholehearted purpose and meaning and I think Rian did an outstanding job. A story like Star Wars needs ambiguity and I think it shows a great lesson in how ambiguity and conflict can be found even in the bravest of hero’s. People want this franchise to not be boring and like the originals and yet the minute it shows difference, it’s a problem. Not everyone is going to be pleased. It’s your choice as a viewer to whether or not you want to be happy or not. Happiness is a choice. Take what you want out of the movie. Embrace new beginnings as Luke Skywalker is. People are so pissed about that and yet Luke Skywalker agrees.As Adam Driver said, some people will walk out of that theater gaining something and some will gain nothing. For the ones who gain nothing, that is a pity for them because what they’re missing out on is incredibly beautiful and what Star Wars is actually all about.

[thefanfic-collective]

Imagine Fighting With Your Boyfriend Q-tip And How You Fix Thing Afterwards

- For Anonymous, enjoy :)

“I can’t take this anymore!” Frustration burned in every part of your being. Your boyfriend just finished his tour in Iraq and had been back in the states for only a few weeks. The only thing you two had been doing since he came home was fight about everything.

            “Of course you can’t! Because you don’t want to work on this relationship!” Q-tip threw back at you, his jaw set firmly because he wasn’t about to lose his end of the argument. How dare he assume that about you. Feeling your blood beginning to boil, you spun around to face him. “That is a fucking lie and you know it, Evan! You are the one who doesn’t want to make it work.”

            “Oh yeah? Tell me, (Y/N), how you would think that? I’m all ears!” “Do not turn this around to make it my fault, Evan. You know damn well that all of this is your fault! I’m not the one who constantly runs away from sharing his feelings. Every time I ask you about what’s keeping you up at night, you always tell me that you don’t want to talk about it!” Tears were trying their best to break free, but you didn’t want your boyfriend to see them and think that you were weak. He had this coming and you knew it. His silence about what happened during his tour had gone on long enough and for him to accuse you of not wanting to work this relationship out had been the final breaking point. You just couldn’t take it any longer. Sleepless nights with his constant tossing in turning in bed from the nightmares had finally gotten on your last nerve because every morning you would ask about them and he would just tell you that it was nothing, don’t worry about it. Every time you tried to talk to him about his experience over there, he would just tell you that you don’t want to hear about it and walk off, leaving you to be by yourself. Well no more, you had to make him see that what he was doing was hurting your relationship. Things just didn’t go as well as you had hoped.

            “You have got to be kidding me, (Y/N)! I have tried talking to you, you just don’t want to hear it. Every time I wanted to talk, you were never there. You were always out with your friends doing who knows what.” You could feel the heat growing in your cheeks, angry quickly starting to make your hands shake. Clenching your fists tightly, you resisted the urge to slap him. “Don’t you dare, don’t you even fucking dare! You hang out with your Army buddies all the time, so don’t even think to blame me for hanging out with mine!” Evan’s jaw clenched up tightly, frustrated with the fact you mixed up the branch of the military that he worked for. Instead of pointing out your mistake, he just threw his hands up in defeat. “You know what? I’m done. I’m done fighting with you, (Y/N).”

            The words barely left his mouth when he started walking to door. “Where are you going?” You snapped, not quite ready to give up on the argument. Stopping in the door way for just a split second, Q-tip turned his head to look back at you. “I’m going out to get drunk.” And with that, he took one last step out onto the walkway before slamming the door behind him.

            It happened, it really happened. You stood there in shock. Normally the fight would last at least 20 more minutes you would go into the bedroom to grab the pillows from his side of the bed and throw them at him, demanding that his ass was sleeping on the couch again. You weren’t expecting him to walk out during the middle of the argument like that. That sudden sinking feeling started to form in your stomach as the realization finally hit. He wasn’t coming back tonight. He was probably going to crash at one of his buddy’s places or worse, some other girl’s bed. Biting your lip, you knew what you had to do. Evan wasn’t the only one could storm out. You turned on your heel and quickly made your way to the bedroom to start packing your bags, unlike your boyfriend though, you weren’t coming back. It didn’t take you long to grab the essentials that you needed, everything else you could just borrow from your friend. Before stepping out the front door, you turned to look over the apartment one last time. This place was the first place that you and Evan had rented together, it used to be warm and cozy, filled with happiness and love. Now it just looked dark and depressing, loneliness and bitterness creeping out from the shadowy corners. Sighing, you took the front door key off your keychain and threw it to the coffee table where it landed with a clatter, the noise sounding louder than normal in the empty room. Closing the locked door behind you, you began the short journey to your friend’s house. The low hum of the engine as you drove helped clear your head just a little. You were still upset about the situation. How dare he think that you were responsible for your relationship falling a part. It was his fault, his fault dammit! He was the one who was pushing you away, not the other way around. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, you slowly turned into the parking lot of your favorite place in the world, the park. You originally planned to go to your friend’s place, but for right now, you just wanted a little peace and quiet to yourself. Since it was late at night, the only thing that was there at the park was the soft glow of the street lights. Whenever you felt down, this was your favorite place to go, especially since you loved the swinging on the swings. There was just something about swinging back and forth that helped you to calm down.

            You didn’t know how long you had been swinging for, but the sound of a car door closing snapped you out of your thoughts suddenly. Fear spiked in your gut for a brief moment before you realized that it wasn’t just anybody coming towards you, it was you boyfriend. Evan slowly strode up to you, somehow he always knew where to find you.

            “Hey.” You greeted him softly, not sure if he was still mad or not. In response he gave you the small version of his signature smile, the one that looked like a smirk. “Hey.” He replied as he sat in the swing next to you. At first neither of you said anything, silence just filling the air between you two. Glancing up at him, you could see that he looking at the ground, like he was struggling to say something. “I thought you were going to get drunk tonight?” “I was, but I forgot my wallet at home and saw that you were gone.” Looking down at your own feet, you began to feel bad about your impulsive decision. Silence again creeped up on the two of you. Neither of you not knowing what to say now.

            “I’m sorry.” The both of you blurted out at the same time, causing a light laugh to come from the two of you. It felt so good to laugh with him. When you opened your mouth to apologize again, Evan stopped you. “No, please let me go first. (Y/N), I’m so sorry about how I acted earlier. I didn’t realize how stupid I was being until I came back home tonight for my wallet. The second I walked through that door, I knew you weren’t there. Seeing your key laying on the table and all of your clothes missing from the closet just about killed me right there on the spot. You know I’m not very good with this kinda thing, but (Y/N), I can’t live without you. I was wrong to yell at you and accuse you of not wanting to be a part of our relationship. I’m so sorry and I regret saying those things to you. It was right.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt apology. You could hear the emotion in his voice, it was tearing him up inside knowing how close you two came to breaking up. You glanced up when you sensed him moving to kneel down in front of you. Your eyes meeting with his as he gently grabbed your hands. “I’m asking, no I’m begging for you to forgive me. Please?” The sincerity in his eyes told spoke volumes. You knew that this would never happened again, you two would still get into arguments of course, but it would never get to this point again. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you grabbed his face with your hands and quickly kissed him on the lips. “Of course I forgive you, Evan. I will always forgive you. I will also do everything I can help make this relationship work, because I love you with all my heart. I may not like the same music you do or some of your friends, but I will always love you. No matter what.” At this point you were crying with happiness as you felt Evan gently pull you down from the swing and hold you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head before placing finger under your chin to pull your face up to kiss you again. “I love you with everything I have, (Y/N), I can’t afford to lose you.” With that, he placed his lips against yours and kissed you softly and passionately before wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you for a while. As you laid against him in his warm embrace, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

[bartsugsy]

I read somewhere that you have a different take on the incident than most of the fandom. Could you share your interpretation or is it too personal? I just love to read about how differently people see the same scenes. For example, I love the fact that people have so different opinions on when Aaron and Robert fell in love with each other.

sigh sigh sigh 

ok, yes, but i’m sort of... reluctant to do so because to be honest, so i’m going to put it under a cut, so that if you have no desire to read an account of The Incident TM that is from the view of someone who likes robert and doesn’t much like rebecca but is still absolutely much more sympathetic towards rebecca than it is robert, you can skip it. 

i don’t think i’m going to be able to speak about this as eloquently or as delicately as i should, forewarning and beyond this i genuinely don’t want to devote more braincells to debate this whole thing, which is why i’m honestly not all gung-ho about sharing my thoughts. but... yeah. you asked, i’m answering. this is all just my opinion.

look. i love robert sugden more than the air i breathe and i also think there’s canonically a large part of him that is very much Not A Good Person and i don’t like to downplay that Not Good part, because that’s the most interesting part for me. i know the geneal fandom tendency is to justify or soften the truly villainous aspects of robert sugden’s character - the way he really doesn’t give a shit about most other people, to the extent that he will play with their lives (chas, paddy), with their mental wellbeing (aaron, andy, rebecca), to his own gain, and i get why people want to do that and i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or what have you, because we’re all going to enjoy the things we enjoy differently, but... i stand by his worst actions as something that is in-character for him, honestly. and i mean, his worst - the hitman, the rock, the grain pit, the lodge, the teeth picking, the first abortion. i think sometimes he’s just... a terrible person. really awful. completely selfish. i don’t think he necessarily intends to ever cause permanent damage, but i think he can be reckless with other people’s well-being, obviously he doesn’t think things through, is impulsive, panics and makes bad decisions.

and then he fell in love? very real love and it affected him completely. falling in love with aaron and accepting it forced him on this road that he really never expected. finding this person who had seen truly the worst of him and loved him anyway, who not only deserved to have him change, but was someone he wanted to change for - 

- and he absolutely needed to change.

so.... robert works on it. he tries so hard. spends so much energy trying to be better... and aaron, when it comes down to it, doesn’t believe him. aaron doesn’t believe him to the extent that he does something terminally stupid and attacks kasim. aaron gets arrested, unbeknownst to robert suffers a hell of a lot, and aaron ends up doing spice to cope. robert meets with him and aaron is... absolutely not aaron. aaron is acting like a damn stranger and more than that, like he’s given up, because how the hell is he ever going to get released early if he gets caught not only doing but dealing drugs? and robert, who has put his entire life on hold, spent all this time and money trying to help aaron and... more than that, tried to change who he is? his whole life? for aaron - robert is deeply hurt by this. 

(and ah man, wouldn’t it have been great if this fight was bigger, more deserving of this level of pain that robert feels, if they had really broken up, but hey ho, it wasn’t. we’ll go by what robert says, i suppose. gotta do the fanwank thing. i cannot be tamed.)

for the first time in a long time, since before he almost lost aaron, robert doesn’t actually want to be in love with aaron. robert resents every second of it, because he’s just fucking in pain. robert trashes the home they’ve built together and he drinks and hey, it turns out that those two things actually aren’t a cure for heartbreak. rob, angry and still in need of an outlet, calls rebecca over and rebecca comes, because at the end of everything, she’s still very much in love with robert and she is actually just... horrible at saying no to him? and robert knows this.

robert knows that he can pretty much play rebecca like a fiddle - did so for months, starting with him bringing her to the village in the first place. robert treats rebecca like shit because he can. 

and robert wants to hurt aaron.

(....i feel like this entire next section just needs big bright red warnings slapped all over it, so warnings for: consent discussion, talk about manipulating people into sex)

so when robert calls rebecca over, yes he is drunk and emotionally compromised, but he also, i think, brings her there with at least some vague intent of sleeping with her. there is no other reason why she is the one he would call at that point. he actively manipulates her into his bed, says things that he knew would get her there (which he has done! multiple times! before!)

i think he knew what he was doing enough that it really blurs the consent issue for me, because he had aaaaall of the agency in that scene. and yes, she shouldn't have slept with a drunk, emotionally compromised person because of course she shouldn’t have, there should be no point where someone sleeps with someone where the lines of consent are in any way blurred, but... robert is nothing if not a master manipulator, especially when it comes to rebecca and her feelings for him. and he is manipulating her. his entire goal is to get rebecca in his bed and he knows, has always known, has pointed out to her face, that she wants to have sex with him, that he just has to say the word and she’ll come willingly... and oh hey, look what he did. 

he said exactly the things she wanted to hear. they were both... so very much in the wrong, but honestly, my instinctive reaction when I first watched that scene was that he deserves a damn good slap for the way he treats her in that scene because he literally uses her as a prop, he promises her they can be together to get her into bed, lies to her face, basically...

and he does this all, not because he has any regard for her or her feelings, but because he knew, he knew that it would be the easiest and most reckless way to hurt aaron. I don't think he sees her as much of a person, has literally made a remark about her lack of backbone before, sure has cared about her as a friend - and i do think they genuinely get on, but also... ultimately doesn’t care about her well-being, certainly doesn’t have feelings for her.

like. this one night stand? is literally entirely about aaron and robert. it’s not robert being tempted into infidelity. it’s robert wanting to hurt aaron and it’s about robert not wanting to be the person aaron’s love has allowed him to become, because that person is way to vulnerable to hurt, that person doesn’t look out for the number one priority or robert j sugden any more - that person has probably cried more tears, had more sleepless nights, felt more things, than he had in a long time, all because of his love for aaron.

in his drunken ramblings before he tries it on with her, robert talks about wanting to go back to his ~old self~, which is still the most fascinating piece of dialogue to me. it just... highlights this change robert put himself through and how this instance is him rejecting the change in a way (in very much the same way he did in the lodge scenes, until he ultimately helped paddy and let aaron go). it’s much more drastic, because robert has come much, much further since then and... it’s obviously spurred on by a mixture of robert’s overdramatic tendencies, his complete misery and heartache and the alcohol. robert obviously regrets it instantly, as he does with all his stupid decisions (see rob, this is why you changed... you moron), but... even on the next day, he still really didn’t have any regard for rebecca’s feelings. he’s told rebecca that he and aaron have split up, said they would be together and then... you know, obviously meant none of it.

so, yeah. this is... the gist (oh my god it’s not even the complete layout of my thoughts on robert and rebecca as a whole and the contrast between aaron and rebecca in both rebecca’s mind and robert’s mind, the contrast between how he fell in love with aaron to how he really never did with rebecca, rebecca’s feelings around aaron being the person she always imagined she was in robert’s life - i.e., the exception, despite him putting her through a traumatic experience (the forced abortion) - and she doesn’t even know that robert has put aaron through traumatic experiences and the similarities there... except, of course, robert ultimately fell in love with aaron and that made all the damn difference...)

sigh

anyways, this... all of this - it doesn’t make me love robert any less. i have no qualms with that, he is at times very much Not A Good Person. i point this out a lot. it kind of makes him fascinating to me. it doesn’t diminish my love for robron at all. i’m fine with that - it’s a work of fiction and it’s entertaining to me

(not that the incident was entertaining because it wasn’t, it still makes my skin crawl a bit, but i’ve come to terms with it because at the end of the day, it’s weirdly feels like a plot device to tell a story about the love that aaron and robert share and so... i’m mostly ok about it as a fact of canon in their story)

i just... i don’t see rebecca as the villain in this situation. i don’t. the scene was, in my mind, clearly supposed to show robert as the one doing the manipulating, being in the wrong, and that came across loud and clear to me. i do think the issue of consent/who was and wasn’t drunk/rebecca’s levels of sobriety should have been handled better but they weren’t and so i’m just... going by what i personally see in the text. which is that this was an act of robert’s doing. rebecca should have walked away, but he brought her there under the knowledge that she wouldn’t, that she was absolutely the easiest route to self-destruction available.

the interpretations of The Incident that all sort of gloss over those details and lessens robert’s involvement or agency don’t resonate with me personally, or with what i saw on screen. like i said, i think he had all the damn agency in the world in those scenes. 

i just. i love him. a lot. i adore his character (and my god i would not spend this much time analysing his every action if i didn’t). the fact that he genuinely is the villain in the story a lot of the time doesn’t minimise that in any way. i love it, even. robert’s actions are the most fun to discuss out of any character’s on the entire soap, in my mind, because he’s not evil, i don’t think he would ever kill someone purposefully (and if he did oh my god would he be in pieces over it). he has feelings and empathy and he regrets like 99% of the things he does, he makes idiotic decisions and treats most people like utter shit and he would do anything for the people he loves, but most of all he would do anything for himself and the fact that he’s basically now in love with someone and has feelings that go against all of those selfish instincts and has recognised and is actively trying to change himself for the better, because he sees that he actually can be better and that his life can be happier, is just... he’s just a great character and i love him.

even if he is a dick. 

[dingdongitsbees]

BLACK-EYED SUSAN | LEVI X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

Chapter 12: Together

Previous - Next

Tw: attempted suicide

WC: 5.4k Ao3 link Ask to be added to the taglist! It will be updated weekly on Saturdays

Second person version (“you” pronouns) can be found here

Master List

So please hurry, leave me / I can't breathe / Please don't say you love me / 胸がはち切れそうで (my chest’s about to burst) / One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I'm on, baby / Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in

– Mitski; First love / Late Spring

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“It’s time.”

He didn’t let those words register in his brain and we both knew it. It was cruel enough for me to still be standing there, to look him in the eye before I stepped backwards into the abyss. It was cruel but I couldn’t help myself. If I was going to die, as sure of that decision as I was, I’d like to see him just one last time. If he hated me for it, hated for his best friend to look him in the eye before voluntarily leaving his life, then that was only good. It would help him get over it quicker, help him move on. I’d be dead anyway; I’d be none the wiser.

“Don’t.”

I exhaled.

“If you jump, I will hate you for the rest of my life, don’t you fucking dare.”

I cracked a little smile. “Only one of us is walking out of here Levi.”

“That doesn’t mean I should.”

“Yeah, it does,” I said softly. “This is the least I can do.”

We were in a checkmate. If he tried to run off the ledge himself then I’d meet the ground before he got there. If he tried to get to me to pull me away, it would only be the same. His only option, and his weakest skill, was talking. And he wasn’t going to be able to convince me that he should die instead. No point of cold logic or an abundance of emotion could change that. I’m the one that’s supposed to die.

But still. I hadn’t stepped off the roof just yet and I wasn’t sure why. No, I did, but it didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of the inevitable.

I wanted to say that three-word phrase with that stupid four-letter word. But that would be even crueller than staring him in the eyes like I was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Even I wasn’t that evil.

“I love you.”

But he was.

My lip quivered and I dropped my sight to the sandstone. How could he? His eyes softened, hitting the critical hit in such few words. If he didn’t know me as well as he did, none of this would have happened, but he did, didn’t he? So of course, despite his lack of tact and dislike of talking, he knew exactly what to say to get me to crumble.

What an asshole.

“Don’t say that.”

He took a step forward. “What? The truth? That I love you?”

I shook my head frantically, covering my ears with my hands like a child. “Fuck off.”

“You know I’ve never been good at that, brat. I love you.”

He took another step.

“Stop it.”

“I love you.” Another.

“Shut up!”

I screwed my eyes shut. Why wasn’t I jumping? I should be jumping. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t fucking do it. Why? Why? Why? Why?

“I hate you,” I mumbled.

“No you don’t.”

I cracked my eyes open. He was standing right below me, looking up to me with that look he always had.

Asshole.

“I could jump off right now and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“But you won’t, will you?”

I gulped. The silence spoke louder than words. He stepped onto the ledge.

“Be careful!” I immediately held onto him with both hands, not letting him out of my grasp. He wasn’t allowed to fall. I was suddenly aware of how far above the ground we truly were. No one could survive this height, that was the plan, but he wasn’t within it.

“I’m not going home if you’re not going to be there.” He held onto my hands tightly, his thumbs brushing over the back of them. “There’s nothing left for me back home anyway.”

My eyebrows sewed together. “What are you talking about?”

“Who do we have at home?”

“What about Hanji-”

“We’ve known her for less than two weeks.”

I was stunned. He was right.

The people that were under Levi’s name in the list of people I cared about were either dead or we had known for only a blip. Hanji, Erwin, even Nick, we hadn’t properly met before two weeks ago. Was the other worth trading for that? Maybe we knew Hannes for a bit, but I couldn’t even kid myself. He was on the list just because he was someone I had talked to, which was far and in between as it was.

My stomach dropped. We really hadn’t had anyone properly in our lives since Farlan and Isabel.

But what sort of an excuse was that? Just because at that exact moment the list of people we cared about was terrifyingly short, it didn’t mean that it couldn’t grow longer for the person who left. The person, Levi, could still have a life.

But then, I thought about if it was me. If I returned, would I be happy? If I had watched his body fall from the tower? Would I be able to move on? Could I deal with everything I had been through without him there? The answer was a resounding no.

And we had always been in sync. I had force myself to accept it would be the same for him.

If I returned without his hand in mine, in all honesty, I probably wouldn’t last very long. It was impossible to know concretely, but the number of things we had experienced, the boat load of trauma dumped on us, would fall like a ton of bricks once one of us got out. And the other wouldn’t be there to help. The amount of grief I would experience would be unmatched by anything in my entire life before or to come.

No one knows the other like we do. No one knows the exact pace of the other’s heart, the exact things that make us tick and the exact things that make us feel safe. No one knows that except for us. And without the other there, we would shatter.

“Then what do we do?”

He tilted his head, his hair falling over half his face as he peered at me.

“Together.”

That lone word shook me to my very core. He had to be joking, surely. There had to be some sort of trick. But when I looked him in those steel-blue eyes, I couldn’t help but believe it.

He’d always been impulsive, always a wrong split-second decision away from death. But he had always made the right one. But now? This wasn’t something purely impulsive, it wasn’t unlikely he had just come up with it, but it was a decision he somehow came to, one I never would have thought would leave his lips.

Together.

Just like we had done everything the in the past years. Where one was, the over was always close by, even here. Maybe that’s why he came in the first place past the reasoning of needing to protect me. It just hadn’t made sense for us to be separated. Where one goes, the other always follows.

Even into the arms of death.

So, we’d face it like we’d faced everything else. Dying was just another challenge for us. Just another room to walk into. It was undoubtedly stupid, but we’d never been ones to be logical when it came to the other. I wouldn’t have an injured leg, he wouldn’t have volunteered, we wouldn’t have kissed each other. I never would have sat on that bench if I had listened to that logic within me, and he wouldn’t have let me stay.

We were both so stupid, but what else was there to expect?

“I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

He chuckled; his lips curled up.

He leant forward and captured my lips with his. He enveloped my waist with his arms while I cupped his hard jaw.

We really were those cliche star-crossed lovers huh?

When he pulled back, he wiped my cheeks with his thumb, taking away tears I hadn’t even realise had spilt. In his lower lashes were some droplets too, ones he didn’t bother to blink away.

Fucking idiots, that’s what we were.

I leant my forehead on his, closing my eyes so all I could feel was him and the breeze. It was just us in this fucked up world.

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

We both chanted it like our life depended on it, tearing those words from our system, hoping it would make up for the years in the past and future we never got to say it. Saying it on loop like if we said it one more time the universe would go easy on us for once. But the universe had never been kind, why would it start now?

In front of me was the boy I had spent the best years of my life with, we had grieved, rebelled, laughed and held each other. He was the boy that held my hand when I was scared to fall, the boy that wasn’t afraid of anything, the boy whose kindness hid under his skin to give to those who deserved it. He invaded every inch of my life and soul and I kept him there as long as I could. Levi was the boy I loved. Levi was my best friend.

Was this really the right thing to do?

“Ready?” he asked, holding my face in the palm of his hand, like I was the most precious thing in the world.

I nodded. “Thank you for letting me spend my life with you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I reached out a hand and caressed the petal behind his ear. Finding those flowers felt like a lifetime ago. Those were different people on that hill. He blinked slowly, letting me drink in his presence one last time.

It would never be enough, even if we lived until we were one hundred, it would never be enough. But it was time, nevertheless.

It was time to say goodbye.

I wasn’t sure who was right anymore, me or Hanji. She was probably ripping her hair out while watching the screen, not wanting to believe her eyes. We were just another pair of tributes, she’d live. Maybe she regretted it now, knowing those three words had caused all this.

It was time to go.

I took a deep breath, not looking anywhere but his eyes.

“See you soon,” I said, giving the biggest smile I could muster.

“See you on the other side.”

I kissed him on the forehead.

“Three,” he whispered.

“Two.”

I was about to lean into the void when the speakers crackled into life and the panicked voice of Floch filled the arena.

“And- and here we have the winners of the 67th Hunger Games!”

We froze. The whites of our eyes expanding forever.

Huh?

We looked to the sky, looking for a mutt, a projection in the sky, something, anything that refuted those words. Nothing came.

A laugh escaped me, and then another, and soon I was sobbing on the ledge of the building that was supposed to be my grave.

Levi quickly pulled us back onto the roof, getting to the centre of the tower like being ten metres from the edge was risky enough. His arms constricted my body, arms like chains around me as he buried his face into my shoulder.

I let laughs rip from me as fat tears streamed down my face.

We got to live. We got to fucking live.

I held onto his back for dear life, my fingernails digging into his skin probably causing welts of blood to erupt but neither of us cared. The fact that he could bleed was a miracle enough.

He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length, looking utterly fucking bewildered, and kissed me as hard as he could, smashing our souls together.

We got to fucking live.

He held me by the waist and spun, letting my feet fly into the air. We spun and spun while we cackled, our unrestrained joy taking up the space around us.

We got to fucking live.

.

The trip back to the Capitol was a whirlwind. We got picked up by a hovercraft, pulled up by masked peacekeepers, and we were immediately deferred to a medical team on board. We sat side by side, hand in hand, as we were looked over and treated, his shoulder and my leg being looked at.

I had forgotten all pain until then, and it finally crashed down as soon as my leg got the medical attention it so desperately needed. I bit into his good shoulder as they put syringes and random shit into my leg, prepping me for surgery when we got back. His shoulder was thankfully fine, only a better diet needed to make a full recovery, something he could now get.

It still hadn’t really kicked in yet. The whole thing felt like a dream. None of it made sense. None of it could be real.

We landed on the top of a skyscraper, now on the roof of the Capitol building we had left a week ago. I was wheeled with haste to the elevator, Levi right on my heels. No one dared to tell him to stay away.

I was pushed through the corridors on the medical centre’s floor and pushed right into a crowd of surgeons and nurses already prepped. They then attempted to get Levi to stay outside the door, but he refused, the Capitol had taken me from him once, he wasn’t going to let them do it a second time no matter how irrational it seemed. They settled for him to sit at the back of the room with a mask on.

I was soon swallowed by darkness as the anaesthesia coursed through my lungs. The last thing I saw was unmoving eyes glued to my face.

I don’t know how long it was until I woke up, light eventually streamed through my eyelids and I winced at its harshness. White light had never been particularly welcoming. When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t just one person I saw waiting for me, but four.

Levi hadn’t even changed yet. Blood was still caked in his hair from my failed attempt of cleaning it out. His stained clothing from the arena still stuck to his form, he hadn’t moved from the room since we came into it. My limp hand was already in his grasp as he sat by my bed, but standing next to him was Hanji, Erwin, and Nick. All three, even the latter, looking overjoyed.

After exploding with thankfulness and happiness and tears, they ripped into us for being idiots despite how tried we clearly were. Levi tried to get them to shut up, but I just laughed. My giggles filled the room, bouncing off sterilised walls and into any passer-by’s ears. The sound of euphoria.

As they smiled at us though, Hanji gnawed her lip, trying to not let whatever was building up in her mind come forward. I was too tired to ask, she’d tell us when she thought it was time, whatever it was. All I wanted to do now was sleep, though not before ordering Levi to go off and have a shower first.

The next day went in and out of consciousness, doctors occasionally came in to check on my progress. I didn’t really care to be honest. They could cut off my leg if they wanted to and I wouldn’t stop them.

I pulled Levi onto the bed around noon, and we laid together, getting the sleep we had desperately missed. The sleep not plagued by fear. We could have been in that ward for hours or days I wouldn’t be able to say. The only thing that gave us a semblance of routine would be when the lights turned off, but I’m not even sure how many times.

Neither of us really talked aside from when doctors or the other three came to visit. We just wanted to hold each other. We hadn’t been hit by nightmares yet, but they were sure to come.

One time when Hanji came in, she asked a question.

“You two definitely don’t have any people you care about at home right?”

We narrowed our eyes and shook our heads.

“No family members? No friends or just general people you were close to?”

We shook our heads again.

“Maybe Hannes?” I said, “But he’s a peacekeeper if that’s relevant?”

She exhaled, her body visibly relaxing. “No, it should be fine then.”

“Hanji?” Levi asked, sitting up.

She swallowed looking between the two of us, unsure whether or not to unload the streams of thoughts running through her mind. She made a decision.

“Not anyone could have pulled off what you guys did without consequences. If you two had people at home…” she paused, looking away, “If you two had people at home, you certainly wouldn’t have got off scot-free.”

I hadn’t even thought about it. Zeke’s face forced itself into my brain, staring down at me like he had during the parade. He was a callous and cruel man, there was no way he didn’t want us dead. To the president, our survival was a blatant fuck you to everything he had built despite the fact it wasn’t our intention. My blood went cold. If we had people back home, they would be dead, no doubt about it.

“You two are the Capitol sweethearts so you’ll be okay. For now.”

“For now?” Levi pressed.

She was at the door, hand on the frame. She looked back over her shoulder. She looked so tired. It was hard to imagine she only barely scraped a few years on us.

“Just…just be careful.”

And with that, she left.

.

After a few days I was given the all-good and was discharged from the tiny hospital. We went up to the penthouse that we had spent a week in, but it all felt so unfamiliar. I kept squinting my eyes, anticipating sand that never came. I looked to where it seemed the most comfortable on the ground instead of the various pieces of furniture around. It was weird.

It was uneventful for about a day before we were told about the victor ceremony. We’d get our “prize” symbolically through a crown I didn’t care for from the man I did not want to see. I was a ball of anxiety as the date crept closer. Levi seemed unbothered to most, but he was clearly on edge ever since that conversation with Hanji. We had to be perfect, we had to be the most complacent and submissive victors in history otherwise we were screwed. We couldn’t have Zeke hate us more than he probably already did. Not to mention it was Levi’s idea to die together that lead to Floch’s dumb decision to let us both live, and Levi had never been the most agreeable person on earth.

He didn’t want to mess it up for us after everything.

I had asked about Floch, half curious to see if he had been secretly executed, but Zeke had decided to be merciful. Hanji said the gamemaker had looked harrowed and gaunt. He had been expecting to die too.

.

The morning of the ceremony was almost as stressful as the game countdown. Each event was counting down to our possible doom if we didn’t act perfectly. Erwin had us in black garments, flowy and light to keep in tune with our district yet to make us look softer and more event appropriate.

Levi’s muscles were stone, he hardly ate anything. I had to force feed him to eat something, but even then he was hesitant.

We went down the elevator, our three-person back up in front of us, ready to take on the world on our behalf. We had done enough. We had been through enough. Hopefully Zeke could indulge that sentiment.

Directors waited for us in front of the giant arch. In another life we had gone through on a chariot with clothes that lit on fire. That was someone else.

A single pitch-black chariot with pitch-black horses to match was on standby for us. The horses shuffled around, faces being stroked by keepers and hand fed grain. I bit my tongue before I accidentally asked where the other eleven were. It was just us now.

I should have been thankful it was twenty-two dead not twenty-three, but it was hard to swallow. It should be zero, but the universe isn’t that kind, especially not to people whose names go on paper slips.

That wasn’t how things worked here.

We made our way over to the chariot hand in hand, the other three speaking to everyone on our behalf. Nick had been surprisingly leading the charge, getting the exact timings and instructions in order to relay them to us himself. Something had changed, just slightly, while we were in that arena. I wondered if he noticed it himself.

We were thankful though, not wanting to speak to anyone involved in the process of our attempted execution. We could only trust those three. It didn’t matter if our names had been the only thing exchanged on every Capitol show between every news anchor and host, it didn’t matter that they were screaming our names and throwing yellow flowers outside the giant arch. They had wanted us dead. They did not get our affection.

The horses were alright though, I patted the back of one on top of the mobile platform. Their hair was brushed and shampooed to perfection as if anyone would properly see it or touch it except for us.

Horses got better treatment than us. I couldn’t even smile at my own joke.

The doors to the arch began to swing open and we stood up straight, looking ahead, as the screams tore through the air. They were so fucking loud. I had heard too many screams, my own and others over the past few days, I didn’t need to hear more.

Just shut up.

I wanted to run into the audience and throttle them, get them to understand we weren’t untouchable characters. We were fucking people. We were kids and they had sent us to die. Why couldn’t they fucking get it?

“Do you think they know?”

“Know what?”

“That what they’re doing is wrong? I mean obviously people like Zeke do but… what about just the normal people? Do they know?”

“They should, but no.”

Fucking idiots. Blind and unthinking idiots.

The chariot lurched forward, and his hand laced with mine. Show time. When we passed out of the arch, I stretched my grin until my cheeks began to ache.

Please don’t kill us.

I waved to everyone around us as they threw objects I didn’t even bother to process as long as they didn’t come near my face. Levi peered over the crowd, trapping his scowl from protruding. His fingers tightened around mine.

Please don’t kill us.

We got to the end of road. We looked up to the giant platform that the president and his associates stood upon, staring down at us. Zeke caught my eye and I smiled even wider, my eyes crinkling.

Please don’t kill us.

We exited the chariot, grip bone crushing, as we walked up the stairs. It took all I had to not trip, to not let my mind wander as a coping mechanism. Levi kept me steady, though perhaps I was just a focal point for him.

When we got to the top, we went right to the edge of the platform like we had been told, right in front of Zeke. I wanted to throw up. The height was dizzyingly high with no barrier. It was lower than the towers in the arena, but it was even scarier. If he wanted to, Zeke could push us right off. He looked tempted, but he didn’t.

We both bowed, falling onto one knee, hesitantly letting go of the other. I stared at Zeke’s polished shoes, watching them shift across the ground. I flinched as a circle of coldness met my scalp. The crown was lighter than I expected, but the edges dug into back of my ears. I wondered if Zeke pushed down on it if could it cut my ears clean off. But he didn’t. He moved over to Levi and placed an identical silver crown on top of his head.

The crowd roared as we stood up and faced them, hands instinctually interlocking again. It was so goddamn loud. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and press my hands to my ears and scream at all of them to be quiet. But I didn’t.

Zeke raised a hand, ironically being my hero, and silencing the crowd. He held the mic to his face, his smiling face projecting across screens.

“Today, we celebrate an unforgettable and unprecedented moment in history,” he spoke, “There is not one, but two victors for the 67th Hunger Games. I’m sure no other pair deserves it more than these two right next to me.”

The crowd applauded. I wanted to punch him.

“I, and I assume many of you, learnt much watching the game this year. We learnt the importance and unrivalled power of a strong and trusting bond, a bond forged in iron over years. We learnt the power of love.”

The crowd screamed. Levi looked like he was two second from choking him out.

Zeke looked to us, a smile on his lips but pure distaste and amusement in his eyes. “You two found love in the unlikeliest of place, I hope you learn to use it well.”

His eyes studied us. I didn’t let my eyes waver. We were safe, but we were on thin fucking ice. Had he thought our relationship was an act, if he had even doubted it for a second, if he thought it was one big con as a screw over to the system, we would not be standing there.  

“My beloved citizens, can we get another round of applause for the victors of the 67th Hunger Games!”

.

When we were back inside, I gulped litres of air, desperately trying to get oxygen back into my lungs. Levi held me gently to his chest, hand rubbing my back. Who knew breathing was so hard, huh?

Hanji ran over, bottle of water in hand which we both chugged eagerly.

.

We didn’t leave each other’s sight. Never. We slept in the same bed, we ate together, we bathed together, we didn’t leave each other’s sight. For all we knew, a hitman or some undercover titan would slit our throats when we least expected it. We couldn’t die. Not yet, not anymore.

I was more certain that death was right around the corner than at any point in the arena. There’s not a designated winner in the game of life, not when Zeke was the gamemaker.

.

Hanji and Erwin had pulled every string they had to avoid us getting interviews except for Willy’s show, it was the only thing they hadn’t wrestled out of, though it was a given that we needed to go onto it.

I smoothed down Levi’s shirt backstage, fussing over him so I had something to do with my hands. He stood silently, letting me do what I needed to do.

We didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened in that arena. We hadn’t even spoken to each other about it. I didn’t need to recall the people I killed; they were all I could think about anyway. Hanji had contacted Willy a few days before the show, begging him to not focus on the murders or any of the other tributes. Surprisingly, he had agreed with no complaints.

Maybe not all of the Capitol was bad. Maybe some understood.

He had already sent over a rough run down of the questions he’d ask, but also told us that there would be an audience question time, something that was out of the production team’s control, so we’d have to be ready.

Most of the interview went smoothly as we had practiced in the penthouse. Answers bled from our mouths that we had preprepared and then practiced to make them sound spontaneous and casual. But as it dragged on, questions about what we liked in the other, fond memories, fears of confessing, were just bricks piling on top of each other, ready to collapse when it was the audience’s turn. Levi’s knuckles had gone white in his empty fist.

I took a sharp breath when a microphone was going in between the seats of Capitol watchers. Most copied in style of Willy’s, just being light-hearted, but the last did not follow the trend.

“Were you two really going to jump off the roof together?”

Everyone went silent as the audience member’s eyes peered at us. I swallowed, digesting what I needed to say.

“Well, not really, at least I hope not,” I said. Levi, Willy and everyone looked to me in confusion. “I had planned to push him back onto the roof as I fell, not sure if it would have worked, probably not, but it was the plan.”

The audience gasped melodramatically.

Willy cocked his head to the man next to me. “Levi?”

His hand was shaking, his eyes wouldn’t move from mine. “I was going to do the same thing.”

The audience laughed, Willy laughed, Zeke probably laughed.

We stared at each other wide-eyed, in utter shock as the hall erupted into cackles and giggles, incredibly overwhelming yet it was deafening silent in the centimetres between one another. We really were idiots, weren’t we?

.

The interview was the last stop on the Capitol showing. It was time to go home. Home.

Erwin and Nick came to say goodbye to us at the station. It had been blocked off from people wanting to get a glimpse of us, our “biggest fans” apparently, so we were left in relative peace as we bid farewell. Erwin brought both of us into soft hugs, his large arms cradling me. Nick shook our hands, stammering out how proud he was of us despite how annoying and disregarding of rules we were. His eyes had been red rimmed, so were Erwin’s now that I thought about it.

Hanji, Levi and I, hopped onto the train, and let the doors to the Capitol slide shut behind us with a hiss. Hoping it would be a long, long time, until we had to see it again.

Hanji left us to our own devices, letting us lounge and eat and sleep and do whatever we wanted, and we did exactly that. We had a lifetime of peace to make up for the weeks of hell. It would never be enough to make up for it.

I leant on Levi’s shoulder as I watched the trees fly by out the window, turning to an abstract green blur. “You do actually love me right?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Just wanted to make sure! Who knows, maybe you became an award-winning actor overnight.”

He flicked me on the forehead and I just laughed. I nestled my head further into the crook of his neck.

“Let’s promise to never do something like this again yeah?” I said, “You’ve given me enough heart attacks for a lifetime.”

“As long as you promise not to do anything stupid.”

“Well, we both know neither of us have been good at that.”

He huffed and crossed his arms but leant his head on mine.

The green outside looked so pretty; trees, flowers, birds, I had missed it. But what we were returning back to would not be the life we had before, for better and for worse. But it would be okay, because we were together, the other in hand like we always had.

It would be okay. It had to be.

Please.

.

[END OF BOOK ONE]

a/n: well damn we’re now at the end of the first book! i’ll be continuing the series right to end as far as i know so it’s not stopping here! thank you for the support so far i hope you all continue to enjoy it!

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[rkxeve]

too deep a sadness ;

CHOI JINRI ; APRIL EVALUATIONS!               rose scent breeze ; red velvet |  song!

jinri has been thinking about rain a lot this month. 

it figures, right? april showers and all that. she’s always really enjoyed this month -- with her birthday right at the end of march, it’s always been easy to go into april happy, and to let that carry her through even the dreariest weather. 

but this year the rain has reflected her mood more often than she would like. she supposes that’s just what happens when the first week of a month involves surprising herself with her own ambition and nearly wrecking her relationship with her best friend because of it. 

one impulsive decision managed to turn her world upside down, though jinri’s at least thankful that she was able to withdraw her name from the show without any trouble. it didn’t take her long to realize what a mistake it felt like, and she hates that there’s still a part of her that whispers that she should have done it anyway, that she should take any opportunity she can get, no matter what. 

even if it means leaving luna behind. 

she’s spent a lot of time this month on her own, fighting away those thoughts and chewing on the guilt that festers in her chest. she and luna seemed to have come to some sort of silent agreement soon after what jinri has tentatively called ‘the fight’ in her head, even though it wasn’t, really. they mutually avoid each other as much as possible, what with them living together and being forced into close quarters for training for most of the day. 

rather than spending her meals and free time with jinwook or luna, jinri spends most of them in various practice rooms around the sphere or seocho facilities, practicing for the evaluation. 

in an ironic, self-deprecating sort of way, she thinks it’s hilarious that this month’s evaluation requirement is to perform a slow song. it’s right up her alley, in her element. she should have no issues with it whatsoever; after all, her team was the only one on the mgas to perform a slow song outside the ballad stage. 

her team also suffered an elimination after the ballad stage, that jinri was so confident going into. that’s part of where the irony comes in.

the rest of it comes from the fact that she hates how comfortable she is with it. she hates how she feels like she has nowhere to go, like she’s trapped inside a box that she built and locked herself. after pulling away from the chance to expand, to get back in the public eye, to maybe even debut, the last thing she wants to do is go back to what she’s comfortable with.

she wishes she had the confidence to dance. she wishes she could challenge herself, could push her limits and break out of the box she’s locked herself in. she and jinwook danced to a slow song, on the mgas. for about two seconds, she considers asking him to do something similar, but immediately shuts the idea down. this isn’t a reality show, it’s an evaluation, and their relationship as it is puts their contracts at stake. it would be nothing short of blatant hubris and stupidity to flaunt it in front of a panel of the people who could turn them out onto the streets for breaking those contracts. 

but jinri doesn’t want to dance alone, knows she can’t choreograph anything for herself and doesn’t want to approach anyone for help. normally she would ask luna, either to help her herself or if she knew anyone who could. but jinri doesn’t even consider that this time, and not only because of the rift she can feel between them. she wants to do this on her own. 

( maybe that’s a mistake, too. maybe she should reach out, work with another trainee or two. after all, it was her own impulsive decision, made without consulting luna or anyone else, that started this whole catastrophe of a month. )

jinri initially has four or five songs she’s considering, pulled instantly from her spotify library. she puts them in a playlist and plays them on a loop whenever she can during training over the next few days. she practices each a bit, and quickly rules out a couple. she decides one is too upbeat for the evaluation’s requirements, and performs it when she leaves one day to visit the festival. 

by the time she’s a week away from the eval, jinri still hasn’t decided which song to sing. she’s narrowed it down to two, and learned both, splitting her time between them equally and lying up at night, weighing the pros and cons of each song. 

it’s not like this is evan that big of a deal. the public won’t see her. this isn’t an audition. she’s not doing the show. it’s just another evaluation. and sure, there’s always the chance they’ll decide she hasn’t improved enough, that her contract needs to be terminated, but that hasn’t been a concern for her in a long time. 

the evaluation itself doesn’t feel important, not really. not like her performance at the festival did. but the song somehow feels important, like there’s some kind of symbolic decision she has to make here. 

one song, rose scent breeze by red velvet, is what jinri thinks of as her signature style -- powerful instrumentals, a strong and technically difficult vocal part, and moving lyrics. the other song, rain by nara, is what jinri thinks is a bit more out of the box -- at least for her. it’s more jazzy, still a slow song but in a different style. 

she’s actually starting to worry about it -- what if she can’t decide in time, what if she just ends up flipping a coin before she walks in? -- when she finally manages to decide. it comes easily, with a prayer. she lies in bed, praying that god will help her make the best decision, and that he’ll guide her down the right path, her full spotify library playing on shuffle quietly in her headphones. 

during her silent prayer, the red velvet song plays, the opening instrumental immediately recognizable after how many times jinri’s heard it this month. her heart skips in her chest -- out of her full library, what’s probably hundreds of songs, this one plays? she takes it as a sign, and decides then and there to perform rose scent breeze. 

she falls asleep with the song on repeat, and wakes up with her headphones out of her ears and tangled halfway under her pillow. 

jinri walks into the practice room bowing, the setup familiar to her. she’s done this before, so many times. how many more times will she do it before she gets to debut? how much longer has she resigned herself to trainee life by giving up the show? does it make her a bad person, to be this greedy? she ignores the questions that have plagued her all month, bowing again as she steps up to the center of the room. 

please start, one of the panel says, and jinri nods, immediately hearing the song start playing from the speakers around the room. 

the song is about missing someone, about being left behind and having to deal with that. jinri realizes that this is ironic, too -- that that’s what she nearly did to luna, what she decided to do without a second thought. she’s starting to really hate irony, and is really beginning to understand what people mean when they call it cruel. it makes her see her own cruelty, makes her not only see, but feel what she would have done. 

every song she was considering this month was the same -- breakup songs, or lonely i miss you songs, stories about being left behind by a loved one and having to pick up the pieces of your own heart. jinri remembers breaking down in tears on far too many occasions, the instrumental of whatever song she was trying to learn continuing on as she fell to her knees and cried, too overwhelmed to keep singing. 

but with repetition the emotions faded, until her eventual chosen song was just another song, just another evaluation, so as she sings now her voice is clear and strong, though emotion still seeps into every lyric. 

the song is a strongly emotional one, which is part of why it plays to jinri’s strengths -- she’s always been empathetic, or at least she likes to think so, and as a result she’s good at finding ways to relate to lyrics even if she has no personal experience with anything they discuss. this time, her empathy only adds more irony to the situation, because she’s singing about how luna probably would have felt had jinri left to do the show, and especially had jinri won and debuted without her. her empathy and her guilt at what she nearly did, at what she has done to their friendship, are what led to her crying so often as she learned the songs. 

as she sings, she’s silently glad god helped her choose this song in particular. the loud, powerful instrumental works well with her voice, and makes the whole thing feel like a song from the ost of a drama, something to be played over an emotional montage after a huge turning point in the characters’ lives. 

A rose scent flows in the breeze And my sorrowful sigh scatters in the air I can’t hold on to them. I can no longer hold on To you as you move farther away

the chorus is beautiful, jinri thinks. her favorite part is approaching fast -- the final bridge and chorus, which she sometimes finds herself describing as explosive in her mind. the whole song builds to it, sure, but she remembers the first few times she really listened to the song, truly considering it as an option for her to perform, she loved the way that while the song clearly spent a lot of time using the instrumental to build to the final, vocally challenging chorus, it still seemed like it came out of nowhere. like after all those emotions had already been poured into the rest of the song, it seemed like there would be nothing left to give, but then it just keeps getting stronger. 

as jinri finishes the chorus once more and the electric guitar takes off, giving her a chance to breathe before the powerful last section, she thinks, not for the first time, about how this reminds her of that day with luna, in a practice room so similar to this one. 

the emotion seemed to come out of nowhere, with jinri walking in feeling uncertain and strangely empty, and then suddenly being surprised by luna’s passionate reaction to the news. everything had skyrocketed so fast, both of their feelings kicked into overdrive and leaving them both overwhelmed and struggling, crying and shouting at each other because they just didn’t know what else to do. 

jinri’s voice doesn’t waver as she enters the chorus one final time, but her eyebrows are furrowed slightly and her eyes closed, her mind far from the evaluation as she sings. she isn’t in this practice room anymore -- she’s in one about two floors up, several weeks ago, sitting helplessly with tears running down her face as she watches her best friend pace, agitated, upset because of jinri. 

she’s in their apartment a week later, watching as luna moves through the kitchen late after training, her eyes not once going to jinri at the table as she prepares herself a snack and takes it back to her room. 

she’s standing on stage at her first mgas, accepting the contract from baek jiyoung and later signing it with luna. then she’s on stage at her second mgas, holding hands with baek jiyoung and luna, being told how well they represented sphere even if they didn’t make first. 

and then it’s all stopping. after the final high note, the song immediately drops in volume and power, as if it’s simply run out. she keeps her eyes closed as she sings the final line, and she remembers hugging luna after the fight, telling her she wouldn’t do the show. 

i can no longer hold on

hold on to what? jinri’s too emotionally exhausted to consider it, how it might apply to her, if it even does. she opens her eyes and blinks in surprise to find herself standing in front of people, but quickly recovers and hopefully doesn’t show any shock on her face. she can feel tears in her eyes, and bows quickly to hide them as she blinks them away. the panel dismisses her quickly, and she hurries out of the room, feeling simultaneously lighter and like she has more weight in her chest than she has all month. 

all she wants right now is to talk to luna. 

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Helping Hands

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five| Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen: Near At Hand

With Lewis’s advice in mind (“Don’t overwhelm the man with big gestures”) Tony had asked, impulsively, what Bucky wanted to do for a date. After they’d stopped making out on his workstation like horny teenagers. Which had involved Tony having to adjust his slacks a few times, because… yeah. 

Despite not liking the phrase, Tony had to admit, Lewis was right. Tony was slumming it. He’d never dated so far outside of his own social circles. Not that most of his best people didn’t come from less than extravagant backgrounds. Lewis herself had worked at a pet shelter, and Pepper had been the executive assistant for a CEO cretin who’d been sexually harassing her. Of course, Ty Stone was a paparazzi and gossip-monger, with a side-order of high-end blackmailer, so obviously people from all walks of life had an equal opportunity to be assholes. 

But mostly, Tony had dated in his social circle, or close to it. Business moguls and the daughters of industry barons, actors and politicians’ sons. A few models. The lead singer of a Top 40 band. And the people, like Ty, who hung on the edge of that crowd. People whose idea of a spectacular date included jetting to Paris or walking the red carpet or blowing a hundred grand in a casino, chasing Lady Luck. 

Bucky had turned adorably shy and asked if they might go to dinner and catch a show on Broadway and had apologized as if the idea was too extravagant, too expensive. 

Tony sent off a quick text to Pepper, asking what shows SI currently had tickets for -- they kept a small bank of seats on reserve at most of the major theaters for the purposes of wining and dining important vendors and partners, or as rewards for enterprising employees -- and discovered that Bucky had never actually been to a live Broadway performance in his life, which just seemed a shame. Concerts, yeah -- and Tony teased him into admitting that he’d been in a band himself, back in high school, though obviously losing an arm made playing guitar a little difficult -- and a few grade-school plays where Steve had played second Octopus, but not one of the full-overboard high theatrics spectacles, like Cats or Hamilton.   

“Wicked, Cirque du Soleil, or Hamilton?” Tony asked, as Pepper returned his text. “Oh, and seats at Balthazar’s for dinner, excellent.”

[Read more here, mobile users be aware]

 Bucky blinked. “How did you do that?” 

Tony waggled his phone. “I have a personal assistant for a reason. And that reason is to make my life easier and save more time for sciencing. Or, you know, partying. Same thing, really. Just I try to science with less booze. It’s safer.” 

“Hmm,” Bucky answered, then leaned over and kissed Tony’s cheek. “Thanks. What time should I be ready?” 

Tony checked the itinerary Pepper had updated for him as soon as they were done texting. “Dinner’s at 6, so, 5:30?” 

“Sounds great,” Bucky said. 

“I don’t get another kiss?” Tony asked, plaintive. 

“After the date, Tony,” Bucky teased. “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m easy, would I?” 

While Tony tried to pick his way through that minefield, Bucky left the lab, the traces of his laughter hanging in the air. 

Tony walked into the living room and Bucky stood up from where he was lounged against the couch. For someone who’d never owned a suit before -- his dress uniform did not count, Bucky had protested -- he wore it well. James Bond in training. 

Bucky also apparently had two entirely different personalities. There was the angry-sullen Bucky that he’d given to Christine for the photo shoot, expressions that made it look like he was considering the shortest route to cutting your heart out, and then there was this one. The date-Bucky, which Tony had nearly forgotten in the last, heart-rending, weeks. The one with the wide, delighted, set-the-room-on-fire smile and dancing blue eyes and quick, loose-limbed gestures. The one who’d kissed Tony stupid and then admitted to being completely overwhelmed. 

And damn, he looked fine in that suit. Tony wanted nothing more than to take Bucky out and show him off, then bring him home and peel him out of that suit. Slowly. With great attention to detail. 

Pump the brakes, Stark, he told himself. 

“Looking good, Mr. Stark,” Wanda said. She and Steve were playing a cut-throat game of Uno at the coffee table, both of them playing two separate hands like they were professional card-sharks. She was wearing pyjama pants with kittens on them and the new Vision tee, a gold diamond with a pair of cybernetic blue eyes just underneath; the album name they were going with was for the title track, “Didn’t See That Coming.” J and Pietro had started cutting some of the initial tracks yesterday. 

Tony had, of course, grown up wearing suits and therefore carried himself much like he did any other day, with calm assurance. He gave Wanda a quick grin. “You’re the absolute height of fashion, yourself, there, kid.” 

Wanda held up one hand, palm out, to shield Steve from the middle finger she flicked at Tony. Tony cackled, delighted. Wanda, he liked. She was unflappable, affectionate, and absolutely and brutally honest. Bucky had called her his Jiminy Cricket once. Even if Tony hadn’t liked her on his own, getting on Wanda’s good side was absolutely essential to keeping Bucky happy. Wanda made it easy to like her, though. 

Wanda played a Skip, Reverse, Skip, Skip, and called Uno, then said, “Hey, the band wants to know if they can come over after rehearsal and chill. Is that okay?” 

“Yes,” Tony said, “but no drinking if you’re going in the hot-tub or the pool, okay?” 

Wanda rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not an idiot.” 

Tony laughed. “Yeah, well, sometimes I am, so…” 

“Steve,” Bucky said, waiting until his son turned all the way around, “you be good for your cousin, yeah? And pretend to eat a vegetable with dinner. Just humor me, okay?” 

Steve pouted as if the idea of eating something that wasn’t chicken nuggets or hot dogs was the worst punishment ever. “Okay.” He got up and hugged his father, rumpling Bucky’s blue shirt. “Are you and Mr. Tony going on a date?” 

“That’s the plan,” Bucky said. He scooped the kid up and kissed his cheek noisily. Steve made a disgusted face and wiped his face off with his sleeve. “God, you weigh a ton, kid. You’re gonna be all grown up before I know it.” 

“Yeah?” Steve perked up. “When that happens, can I have your bike?” 

“No, you may not,” Bucky said. “If you’re really good, though, I might let you tie your shoes all by yourself.” 

“Goodie.” The seven-year-old’s sarcasm was point-on. “Can I brush my own teeth, too?” 

“Don’t get too wild and crazy,” Bucky cautioned. He put Steve back on the floor and the boy ran off to finish the card game, crowing with triumph as he played two back-to-back Draw Fours. Wanda groaned and filled her hand with cards. 

Tony offered his arm, a strange pain in his chest as he watched Bucky interact with his son. “Shall we go? Pepper will murder me if we miss our reservations.” 

“Has she, ever, actually murdered anyone?” Bucky wondered aloud. 

“That’s classified,” Tony said, deadpan. Bucky laughed, throwing his head back and his bangs fell into his face. Tony allowed himself the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, this time, the date wouldn’t end in complete disaster. 

Tony had literally seen life and death decisions made with less deliberation than Bucky was exhibiting, choosing between the lamb rack and the coq au vin. Tony put his own menu aside to watch Bucky agonize, not being able to keep from smiling. He was reminding himself not to overwhelm the poor guy; he pinched off his first suggestion, which was to just get both. His second suggestion was that he get one, let Tony get the other, and they could share. 

His next several impulses were worse, and continued to nag at him; Bucky made him want to spend money, not to impress, but because Bucky was so delighted and amazed by stuff Tony was so used to that it was both painful and intensely fun. For just a moment, Tony held the patronizing thought that this was why people had children -- to watch someone else experience a thing for the first time in some way that brought the joy back. 

Tony started his little mental file; he always had one these days, ever since he’d totally fucked up with Pepper, forgetting her birthday and then bringing her strawberries (which she was allergic to, because damn it, he was a genius, but he could only remember strawberries, and not why they were connected). He’d learned his lesson, finally. If he paid attention, made the little details as important as math and science and engineering… that made a difference. 

Or, so the theory went. Since he and Pepper had split, he hadn’t actually put the theory into practice. Consider this a field test, he told himself. From just dinner, he’d learned Bucky preferred beer to wine, and beach-drinks to beer, preferably with frozen fruit and a rim of sugar. (Note to self: dig out the blender) Also, that he thought calling french fries “pomme frites” was pretentious as hell, and that he would absolutely not eat the last piece of bread in the basket. 

And that he was pretty. Tony had known that already, of course, but he couldn’t quite get over it, kept trying to be casual and failing miserably. So very pretty. 

Bucky had noticed, of course, that Tony was watching him. He looked up at Tony from under those long lashes with eyes that were the color of stormclouds. Bucky worried at his lip with his teeth whenever he was thinking and sometimes when he was talking, he’d rest his pinkie against the corner of his lip, which was damn distracting. 

Bucky also sat with his back to a wall and had the higher situational awareness that put Tony in mind of some of his more fervent bodyguards, especially the ones who’d been around when Tony was younger and went through what seemed like an absolute epidemic of being kidnapped and held for ransom. Apparently, a bunch of really third-rate bad guys had thought that Howard might be willing to part with some cash for his son back. Hadn’t worked out for them, very well. Tony’d gotten pretty good about escaping from restraints and picking locks and building bombs out of kitchen supplies. At least tonight, Tony hoped that high-alert wouldn’t be necessary for anything more than not having a mouthful of food when the waiter came over to ask if everything was to their satisfaction. 

The other thing Tony learned was that Bucky had impossibly long legs and that he sprawled when he sat down, legs carelessly extended under the table. When Tony had kicked him under the table the first time, Tony had apologized and drawn his feet back. Usually playing footsie under the table wasn’t a thing for Tony; at his very tallest (with the inserts in his shoes) was about 5’7”, so there was ample space for Tony’s legs and just about anyone else’s. Bucky, however, had stretched out just a little further, hooked the toe of his shoe around the back of Tony’s ankle and dragged his foot forward a few inches, then pressed his calf against Tony’s. 

That little point of contact, unseen and secret and affectionate, was doing things to Tony. 

The only word that Tony could find to describe his mental situation was captivated. Or maybe smitten. 

Balthazar’s was a popular place, and Tony was unsurprised when his attendance got some attention. A few tech-fans had come over to ask -- very nicely -- if they could get selfies with the man who’d invented their phones, and Tony was happy enough to oblige them. 

And Bucky spotted Scarlett Johansson with her current husband, the advertising mogul, Romain Dauriac. He stared for a long time, almost bordering on rude, but not for the reasons Tony thought. “You know, Clint said so, but I didn’t quite believe him.” Bucky scrolled through his phone pictures and eventually came up with one of Clint with his wife, who did bear a startling resemblance to the actress, except Nat had red hair and ScarJo was usually blonde. 

Dinner was good, and dessert was better. Bucky insisted on feeding Tony a few spoonfuls of his creme brulee, which was actually quite good, but the sharing was better. In the manner of social media and hashtags, Tony and Bucky were a trending topic on Twitter before they left the restaurant. Not shocking, but Tony texted Happy to come pick them up at the door. Even so, one of the rag-journalists grabbed Bucky’s arm before they could make a clean getaway. 

Those stormcloud eyes went flat and angry at the touch, and Bucky shook the man’s hand off forcefully. No, bad, Tony thought. Do not assault the paparazzi. Not that Tony had room to talk, really, but still. Darcy would kill them both. 

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark,” one of the gathered reporters yelled, “is it true that --” 

“Oh, come on, now Matthew,” Tony said, giving the man his best press-grin, “you know that nothing anyone says about me is true.” 

“Or everything is,” one of the other reporters shot back. 

“Well, I’ll just leave that to you to figure out,” Tony responded, and shoved Bucky toward the car, hard, with the hand at the small of his back so it looked like an affectionate gesture. Once they were safely inside the back of Tony’s car, Happy at the wheel and on their way to the theater, Tony was able to take a breath and notice how badly Bucky was shaking. 

“Hey, hey,” Tony said. “You all right?” 

“I don’t…” Bucky took a few deep, shuddering breaths and raked his hands through his hair, messing it all up. “I don’t like to be touched when I’m not… when I don’t know the person.” 

“Yeah,” Tony said. “They do that, sometimes. I expect we’ll end up going through another gauntlet on the way into the theater. Unless you want to skip that --” 

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky said. He scraped his hair back again and returned it to the bun, somewhat less smooth and suave than it had been before, which just added to the appeal. “Just…” 

“Did Darcy give you a prepped statement, in case anyone asks you questions?” Tony asked. He had a few fall-back lines of his own, although they’d been in place since long before Darcy had become his social-media maven. 

Bucky actually chuckled and Tony relaxed against the back of the seat. “She tried,” he said, “but apparently, I am useless at delivering a prepared speech. I’ve been relegated to ‘no comment’ until she can get me lined up with an acting coach.” 

They did manage to get into the theater without further incident, although someone with a telephoto lens and too much time on their hands had taken note of the messed up nature of Bucky’s hair after getting out of the car, and the angle of the shot prompted the glibly less-than-140-character post, “Where is Stark’s hand and why is Mr. Barnes smiling?” 

When Tony leaned over before the curtain went up to show the tweet to Bucky, the poor guy went so red in the face that Tony had a hard time not laughing. And since they were right next to each other, when the lights went dim, Tony gave up on resisting his other impulse, and let his fingers rest on Bucky’s thigh for the entirety of the first act. 

Author Note

brace yourself for three weeks worth of fluff (and smut) as their date takes three chapters. wow, I must have been in a really good mood when I wrote it! Enjoy!

as always, @tisfan

[fasterthanyouvidia-blog]

A Decision Made || Self Para

The snow was falling as Vidia left the gym with her bag thrown over her shoulder. Her skin was still hot from her practice in the cage. The flakes fell and melted as they made contact with her face. A few landed on her split lip and made her groan from the slight discomfort.

A woman with short blonde hair, almost so short that she looked bald, clipped Vidia’s shoulder as she walked by. Vidia hissed but her muscles were strained and tired from her work out. The woman got a pass.

Then another person walked into her. And another. “What the?” Vidia looked around and started to become disoriented by the barrage of people. She felt like she was under attack but she didn’t know who or what it could be. “Fuck.”

“You have a very foul mouth,” The blonde was standing in front of Vidia. Her accent was Scandinavian or something from where everyone was like the woman, tall and blonde. “A lady shouldn’t talk like that.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Vidia scoffed as she stepped back from the woman who abruptly showed up.

“Trina Unwin. But for now,” She shrugged as one of her cohorts came up from behind Vidia and doused her with a sleeping draught. “Took you long enough. Now, help me get her out of here.” Trina and the young man with the angular features looked around as they picked up the petite student. With a crack, the three were gone.

Vidia came to in a dark room. She laughed to herself because it seemed so cliche. She would have been terrified if it was like a doctor’s office, something bright and clinical. Yeah, she would’ve been terrified. But it was a stupid dark room. All it needed was a creepy man in a cloak. Then she’d know she was being pranked.

“Ah, you’re awake,” An older gentleman, probably in his thirties judging by the small blotches of gray that framed his face at his temples. “Guild Master Pennelegion is waiting to speak with you. Follow me.”

“I’m not following anyone or talking to anyone until someone tells me where the bloody hell I am.” Vidia crossed her arms tightly over her chest and tapped her foot with her usual irritation.

“If you come and talk to the Guild Master, then you will get the answers you want.” The man’s voice seemed as if it was holding back from its usual tone.

“Guild Master?” Vidia’s brow perked up to the side.

“Stop asking questions. Just come on.” The man tapped the wall and it vanished to expose a long hallway lined with silver sconces.

The light stretch just far enough so Vidia could see where her feet were going. The man seemed like he didn’t require any light as Vidia struggled to keep up with him.

The hall ended and opened to a larger room. The light seeme to spill in through the sky lights that bordered the high ceiling. The center of the ceiling had some sort of symbol painted but Vidia couldn’t make it out with only the moonlight to help her eyes.

A chocolate colored woman with a halo of dark curls walked up to the man and Vidia. “Hello, Vidia. I’m Lower Guile Commander Petcher but feel free to call me Chamise. Guild Master Pennelegion will be here shortly. Alf,” her hand rested on the man’s forearm, “I’ll take over from here.”

“Good,” Alf March, Guild Commander and all around grump, grunted as he walked away.

“Don’t mind him. Fitz was supposed to get you but Ridgewell and he were called away for a moment. I’m sure you have a ton of questions. They’ll be answered shortly. Guild Master said the matter should only take a few minutes. Let’s introduce you to everyone.” Chemise guided Vidia to a small group that hung around the edge of the large room.

“Look who’s awake,” Trina was the first to speak.

“You ambushed me,” Vidia hissed as she lunged but was blocked by Chamise.

“Ladies,” they both backed down as Chamise began to chastise them. “You know Trina and Rodney. They were sent to collect you.” Vidia didn’t see the person who came up from behind but he gave a small wave as he looked up for a minute. He was tall, Vidia could tell even though he was sitting. His features were sharp and his eyes were hollow and blue.

“That’s Helen, Graham, and Claire,” Chamise pointed to each of them as she said their name. Helen seemed sweet. She had an angelic face with sweet eyes. She reminded Vidia of a brunette Felicity. Graham reminded her of the typical pretty boy. He had silver hair, which struck Vidia as strange but he was pleasing to the eyes. Claire was petite. Her fair skin reflected the moonlight as she gave Vidia a small bow. Vidia didn’t know the proper response since she wasn’t aware of the customs of whichever Asian country she was from. She just gave a nod and called it a day.

“Everyone this is Vidia Ligeiro. I’ll leave you all to get better acquainted as I go to see what’s going on with the Guild Master.” Chamise walked away and the group stared at Vidia waiting for something.

“What?” She looked at each of them.

“I fail to see what’s so impressive,” Trina spoke as if Vidia wasn’t even there. “She’s just some quidditch player.”

“Excuse me? Who the fuck are you to judge me?” Vidia wasn’t at her full strength but she could take Trina on. The bigger they are the harder they fall.

“And she’s so vulgar.”

“I’m right here, puta. You can say it to my face.”

“You lack discipline and training to even be worth our time. You’re just some broom jock. Why the Guild Master wanted you here is beyond my comprehension.”

Vidia snarled and as she went to lunge at the girl Graham caught her by the arm and pulled her into a lock. “Let go of me!” Vidia slammed her foot down on his instep and brought her foot up to donkey kick his knee cap.

“Enough!” An older black man bellowed. “Guild Master Pennelegion will be here in a matter of minutes. Get yourselves together.”

Graham let Vidia go with a grin and she shoved his shoulder. “Do that again and I’ll break something.”

“You can try but odds are I’d break you, first.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

Finally, the Guild Master arrived. Vidia could tell it was him because his presence caused all conversation to cease. He was old, wrinkled and bald. The way he carried himself suggested that each crease on his face came with years of experience. “Welcome, Miss Ligeiro.”

“Hey,” she gave him a small wave. “So you’re the Master guy.”

“That would be me. The proper term is Guild Master.”

“That’s great. Why am I here?” Everyone stared at her with disbelief at her blunt rudeness.

“This, my dear, is The Guild of the Wind. We are a secret society of elite flyers. We’ve been in existence since wizards started using brooms. Your grandfather, Alberto Ligeiro, was a Guild Master until his passing.” Guild Master Ridgewell Pennelegion crossed the room and stood in front of Vidia. “Your uncle, Vincente, is also a member. I believe he is a Guild Commander of his faction. So to answer your question, you come from an impressive Guild Legacy, Miss Ligeiro. That is why you are here.”

“This is some sort of joke, right?”

“I’m dead serious.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Vidia, you inherited your grandfather and uncles ability and skill for flight. I’ve watched you since the first time you mounted your first broom.”

“Cause that’s not creepy,” she muttered under her breath.

“Well, I knew Alberto fairly well. He was a very gifted flyer. I was, also, there when your uncle was initiated to his faction. I hope to see the next generation of Ligeiros initiated as well.” Ridgewell Pennelegion was fast for an old man. Vidia was pleased since slow walking annoyed her.

“Yeah, I never met my grandfather.” Vidia only ever met one of her grandparents and that was Abuela. She never met her mother’s parents, either.

“Well, you have a lot in common with him. He had a sharp tongue, too. Although, Alberto wasn’t nearly as gifted as you are with expletives.” Vidia laughed at the Guild Master’s description of her foul mouth. He was alright in her book.

They stopped at a door. “Alright, Vidia. Should you decide to join us, you will walk through this door. Should you not, we will wipe any memory of this place from your mind and leave you be until the end of time. The choice is entirely yours. However, the Guild of the Wind is forever. I’ll give you some time to process this.”

“Wait,” Vidia grabbed his arm, “What happens if I join then change my mind?”

“That’s never happened, my dear.” He patted the back of her palm as he smiled. “This place is a place to only better your skills. Do you want to be called a broom jock your whole life?” With those words, he left Vidia to think.

Vidia was impulsive and rash almost all of the time. She was all or nothing most of the time. But the Guild was something that made her hesitate. She wasn’t one for group activities. Quidditch was just about the only group thing she enjoyed. But she didn’t want to just be some broom jock. She wanted more for herself than a boring life of just making it by.

With zero scouts or prospects of joining a professional team, her job opportunities after school seemed pretty bleak. Would the Guild of the Wind be that stepping stone to being more? Would it give her the ability to use her talent for flying to excel in life?

She reached out her hand and took a deep breath. Her fingers curled around the knob and exhaled as she turned it. With a slight push, the door gave way and brought her back to the large open room where her walk with the Guild Master began.

“Glad to see you’ve decided to join us, Vidia,” the black man from earlier was on the other side, waiting for her. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m the Lower Guild Master, the second in command of this faction. My name is Fitz-Lloyd Pike but most people just call me Fitz.”

“Cool,” Vidia shrugged.

“You’ll be known as a Guild Initiate until you pass your initiation and become a full fledge Guild Member like the people you were so nicely talking to earlier.” Fitz and Vidia walked through the room back to the lovely pack of members.

“I guess we’ll be seeing more of you,” Helen said with a sweet sing song type Welsh accent.

“Guess so,” Vidia rocked on the back of her heels and tried not to look too bored.

“They will each train you in one aspect of your initiation. Talk amongst yourselves to decide what you’ll be doing. Don’t worry, Vidia. You’ll have time. It usually takes six months to a year for an initiate to be fully prepared for the test.” Fitz smiled and took his leave to speak with the other three adults Vidia met while she was there.

“I say eight months,” Rodney spoke first.

“A full year,” Trina scoffed.

“Less than seven.” Helen smiled.

“Eh, six months. I’ve heard of you, Ligeiro. You’re wicked on a broom.” Graham said with a thumbs up.

“Don’t worry about them,” Claire whispered, “they’re trying to intimidate you. They’re all really nice when you get to know them.”

“I’m not.”

“Not what?” Claire asked Vidia.

“Intimidated or nice once you get to know me.”