#but really it's the like single-family idealism here that's irking me
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anonymusbosch · 1 year ago
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the last reblog in particular is a little baffling to me.
saying this as a native plant enthusiast and gardener-when-able,
like, I really value being able to get produce from a supermarket. In Minnesota, where I grew up, I loved having backyard raspberries and beans and lettuce and herbs in the summer and apples in the fall - and nothing the rest of the year. There are backyard greenhouses, sure, but you can't really get much when the light is so overcast so much of the winter. And it's nice to have fresh vegetables, even kind of shitty ones, in the fall and winter and spring. Farmer's markets are a little thin then when everything outdoors and not under glass is buried in snow.
That was in a pretty idyllic single-family-home situation. What for the people in apartments? What for people who don't have the time to garden, or the space, or the physical ability? And, like, this "we" clearly doesn't include people living in Seoul or Tokyo or Mexico City or Shanghai or New York City or Beijing or any of the dense cities that hold massive numbers or people.
I don't dispute that a lot of supermarket produce in the US sucks hard. Yeah, a lot of it is bred to be uniform and shippable rather than tasty, and I like getting farmer's market stuff when I want something excellent. But farmer's market stuff in the US is also more shipping-emissions intensive in most cases. The most efficient pickup truck I can quickly find the numbers for (Ford Ranger, 23 mpg) will emit about 386 g CO2/mile unladen (8887 g CO2/gal gasoline). Older and heavier pickups easily reach >800 g CO2/mile unladen (11 MPG or less). Those trucks typically can only carry one or two tons of goods (and if carrying produce, likely less). Meanwhile, ordinary freight trucks can manage > 100 miles per gallon per ton of freight, while efficient ones can reach >170 - for diesel, that's around 60 g CO2 per ton-mile. But the big difference is ocean shipping, which is around 37 g CO2 per ton-mile.
Where I live, in a medium-dense populated area with over 10 million people, it's over 60 miles to the closest place to grow food at scale. The actual farmer's market I can go to has "local" stuff from over 130 miles away. And these tiny markets can't supply anything close to the demands of 10 million people - there's a reason produce travels farther, and it's that it takes a lot of land to grow that much food.
I loved having a backyard garden. I'd like to have one (or at least a patio garden) again because I like having some nicer vegetables when I can. I enjoy good produce! And I despise a lot of the supermarket produce. But I also like it when people in Phoenix or Las Vegas can eat, and when there's vegetables in the winter, and it doesn't take this idealized single-family fantasy to get food.
parting note - GHG emissions from shipping are a tiny, tiny fraction of the GHG emissions associated with growing food. The transportation emissions are the red bars on the chart (not even visible for most foods). This chart comes from this article, which I think everyone extolling the virtues of local food should read.
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In the future, children will think our ways are strange. "Why do old people always grow so much milkweed in their gardens?" they'll say. "Why do old people always write down when the first bees and butterflies show up? Why do old people hate lawn grass so much? Why do old people like to sit outside and watch bees?"
We will try to explain to them that when we were young, most people's yards were almost entirely short grass with barely any flowers at all, and it was so commonplace to spray poisons to kill insects and weeds that it was feared monarch butterflies and American bumblebees would soon go extinct. We will show them pictures of sidewalks, shops, and houses surrounded by empty grass without any flowers or vegetables and they will stare at them like we stared at pictures of grimy children working in coal mines
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maccreadysbaby · 2 years ago
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Can we take a second to discuss Danse’s nonexistent storyline arc???
Yeah, Danse is a powerful brotherhood leader. Danse has become Soles best friend. Danse is slowly opening up to them, blossoming like a flower when spring starts coming, Danse is-
What? Oh, hell, well, Danse is a synth. The exact thing he’s been trained into thinking is scum and a disgrace to mankind.
And after realizing this, Bethesda goes, hey Danse, run away. Which is pretty justified, saying as Maxson wants him dead and he’s having the biggest identity crisis known to man.
and THEN Bethesdas like, Danse’s best friend, go kill him but not really! Okay, great, here sole goes to not kill him. Oh boy, emotional conversations, may or may not unlock the choice to tell him youre in love with him even though he clearly is in self destruct mode and in no headspace to think about being a romantic partner to anyone. Dude just got finished telling you he’s nothing and now you’re telling him he needs to live up to the idea of being soles ideal romantic partner? Wormhole of more self destruction, there.
And Maxson shows up. (How did he leave the Prydwen and get here in twenty minutes without a single person watching his back?) We’re all screaming about how Danse is a person, how we love him, how he’s so amazing and perfect and he deserves to live. And Maxsons just like “fine lol” and leaves. Wtf?
Here’s where it gets messy. Because Danse is like, imma leave the commonwealth. Ok bro, go have a cute life somewhere. But sole just confessed their love to him and ask him to stay. So he’s like, “sure I’ll stay here in this little thing and make it more livable” no he doesn’t.
And if the player character doesn’t interact with him anymore, that’s where he stays. Indefinitely. Forever. Doing absolutely nothing. Sitting, wollowing in self pity, probably thinking about offing himself again because he’s spending the rest of his life in a crappy basement.
Here’s how I think it shouldve gone.
Sole finds him at the listening post, and lets him just talk instead of dumping all of their feelings over his poor little head. I wish we had gentler dialogue options, where we can carefully and purposefully lead him through this time of trouble without bringing soles emotions into it and manipulating him into not killing himself. The whole “think about the people that care about you” thing is MANIPULATION. And he lets you because he’s so broken and lost! It irks me. Because his response is 100% real, in that moment he would let you run over him and sway his mind because he’s a disaster at that point.
So, Sole leads him through it gently, with an unwavering amount of love and care and zero manipulation. He gets to come to his own conclusion about life. Sole says, hey, you can live with me and my friends in Sanctuary (or wherever) and we’ll be there for you. But if you wanna stay you can.
Sole can take Danse home. He can have actual conversations with other companions — Deacon talks to him about the Railroad, not to pressure him, but just to let him in on what they really do, and that they’re always there to support him if he needs. Nick and Curie help guide him through being a synth. Preston can give him a job, if he wants one, a purpose, something to do with his hands that is good for his mind. X6 might actually stop hating him. They all (mostly) make their support known, because Sole loves Danse, which means they do, too. The companions are a family and they won’t exclude one just because of his past. How hypocritical!
This unwavering support from people other than Sole would provide Danse with more of a reason to live, to move on, to see things from different perspectives and — heck — maybe even begin to change his mind about the ideals of the brotherhood. Because these synths, these ghouls, these people support him, they befriended him, they didn’t care about his past or who he used to be. Because they help him realize he has worth. Because they haven’t given up on him, so why should he give up on himself?
Maybe he joins the railroad. Or maybe he lives a beautiful life with Sole and friends.
Anything to give him a full arc and a chance to be happy without spending his whole life in a basement sulking about having no worth. Anything to give him a real answer to his identity crises other than Sole loves me so I gotta stay. Anything to give him his own worth in his eyes, to give him a real conclusion, a real idea of who he is beyond sole.
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beananacake · 3 years ago
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Savior (Part 1)
Ikaris x Reader
Summary: Ikaris has felt a hum for millennia and he's never questioned it, until he found the source.
Word Count: 2.3k words
Warnings: None? Maybe some mild spoilers for those who haven't watched the movie? Also, for South Dakota natives, I'm sorry if I thought your place quaint. I literally have never been there and I only searched it up and found a small town so I went with that
A/N: Hey guys! I know I said I wouldn't be able to make an Ikaris fic but honestly, why would I deny myself the pleasure of watching Eternals (even if all I could get is a grainy French-subtitled copy)? The Prince Kit fic will definitely be on-hold (because I love historical fiction, reading and writing it) until I get into the headspace for it. Anyway, still considering making a 2nd part for this because this ends a bit abruptly. If so, updates are going to be far in between and with much lesser words than with Snapshot. Not beta'd, as usual. Review, comments, suggestions, requests (and reblogs) are happily accepted! Enjoy Savior!
Shout out to @marissat1998 and @mentallyscreamingsincebirth for asking me if I'd like to write an Ikaris fic bc, yes apparently I do lol
Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | One Shot: Dear Diary
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He felt it again, that low thrum of power. It was more of a vibration than anything and it shouldn’t have bothered him but it did. No other creature, human or otherwise, had emitted that force around him and it raised his defenses. Ikaris was brought to Earth to defend its inhabitants from the Deviants, a race of creatures who sought to feed on humans. He had been on this earth for millennia, fighting and protecting the people with his family. If he found anything out of the ordinary, anything at all that raised alarm, he would act on it without hesitation.
But this? This low buzz? It was not near alarming as it was with the Deviants but it was getting on his nerves.
His eyes scanned his surroundings, watching the humdrum of the daily life in South Dakota, and found nothing amiss. The Deviants had been banished for centuries and if there were some, surely he would know. Only, there were the people of the small town of where he was staying. People and that low thrum.
He took his bag of groceries with him and made his way to the door, only to stop when his eyes landed on you.
You. You were familiar to him but he didn’t know from where. Even with his extensive life, he had no idea where or when he first saw you. You just came to be and everywhere he went, you were there.
Including here. In this sleepy town in South Dakota.
“You,” Ikaris murmured to himself, more in disbelief than acknowledgement.
You looked up at him as if you heard him.
The low thrum of power was you.
Was there a grand purpose to life? You thought to yourself as you scanned the aisle for your brand of shampoo. Or was I just to wade through it everyday, looking for something exciting in a small town like this?
South Dakota was… pleasant. The town was picturesque and quaint, ideal for small families. There were no shortage of nice people and places to go to. There was, however, a significant lack of the shampoo you preferred.
No, you had no qualms about the place. Nothing, really. It was just… you had been to beautiful places before and you loved every single one of them but you didn’t know why he decided to stay in this small town. Okay, maybe you did. He must have been tired from all the fighting and the action and he wanted a change of pace, something slower than the exhilaration of his past millennia. And where else in the world would offer him that peace if not here.
In South Dakota.
Where the best thing was the defaced mountain (which irked you because the mountain was already glorious on its own and they had to carve out faces on it).
You huffed as you scanned more of the shampoos. Grand purpose my ass, you thought cheerlessly as you plucked the only remaining bottle and placed it on your basket.
You had been with Ikaris for almost his whole life since he had been sent here on Earth. Well, with Ikaris was subjective. You were sent to protect him, which made it justifiable to say you were with him even if he had no idea of your existence. And to protect him from what was a mystery even to yourself.
You had seen how he fought. He was a soldier, robotic in his movements and calculated in his actions. The beams from his eyes were always true to target and when he flew, he soared the skies and to scour for more of the enemies. You were in awe of him that sometimes you forgot your purpose. You loved watching him fight but you were there as his protector, even if you it seemed like he had no need of you. And you, stubborn as you were, took your role to heart. You followed him wherever he went; from Babylon to Mesopotamia to London to here in South Dakota.
Because this, as much as you hated to admit it, was your grand purpose in life. To save the savior.
“But not with frizzy hair,” you murmured absently as you went to the check-out counter.
“You.” You heard and looked up, only to find Ikaris’s piercing blue eyes staring back at you.
In over the seven thousand years you had been following him, you were never the subject of his gaze. He had always looked at his fellow Eternal, a woman named Sersi who had the ability to transmute any non-living matter into another, with pure adoration and his eyes never strayed once. You knew they were blue but you didn’t realize that they were as blue as the clear skies. Or that he was very handsome up close.
“It’s you,” he said and you noted his tone of disbelief.
Shit, he’s found you out, you thought to yourself in a panic. You only looked at him, acting confused.
“It’s me what?” you asked.
He frowned at you as he stepped closer. You took a step back.
“I can feel you,” he said.
You swallowed and tried your best to look at him weirdly. “You’re freaking me out,” you told him. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your powers, although not as powerful as his, were still brilliant in their own way but you never had this effect on anyone at all. Even when people were close around you, they never felt the full extent of you.
“I can feel you,” he told you again, the words this time holding more weight. He stepped closer to you and grasped your arm. You swore you felt your power glow at his touch.
“You’re freaking me out,” you repeated and it was true. You were freaked out. There was no explanation for him to feel you because if he felt you now, he would have felt you eons ago.
“Hey, buddy. Take your hands off of her.”
You looked away from Ikaris’s intense eyes and into the eyes of the shopkeeper who had seen what was going on. People always underestimated you because of how you looked and it irritated you most of the time but now, you used it to your advantage. You tried to act terrified.
“Hey, buddy. I said get your hand off of her.”
Ikaris abruptly let go of your arm and you looked back at him to find him still staring at you as if to figure you out. You backed yourself against the wall and swallowed, putting on a frightened act so he would take the hint and leave you.
“Miss, are you all right?” the shopkeeper asked as he neared the both you.
“Yeah…” You managed to say, looking at the concerned owner and giving him one of your placating smiles. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding. People say I look a lot like someone they know.”
“I’m gonna ask you to leave, buddy. We don’t want trouble inside the store.” the man said and you turned back to Ikaris.
He still hadn’t moved. All he did was just stared at you like you were some puzzle he was trying to piece. Which was ironic, considering how much of an open book you were to other people. Other than the fact that I have powers, you thought to yourself amusedly.
“Buddy—”
“I heard you the first time,” Ikaris said before prying his eyes from you and stepping away.
You flushed; the reaction surprising even yourself. You had heard him talk before (discounting his earlier words of “I can feel you,” which in itself would have elicited some kind of reaction altogether) but you never realized how thick his accent was. Or how beautiful he was in totality.
You gathered your basket again, shaking all thoughts of Ikaris from your head. He didn’t need to know you were here but somehow, he found you.
Ikaris kept a low profile for most of his life after Ajak had told them they were free to do as they pleased after the events in Babylon. He had stayed with his partner Sersi for centuries before deciding that she and him were at odds with each other. Sersi loved the humans and had grown to empathize with them while he looked down on them and thought of them as creatures he was sworn to protect. He had no love for them, unlike his partner who had eventually found for herself a companion in one of them. He was an Eternal, his life had no beginning or an end. He did not want to be saddled with a companion that was to die in less than a century. He could have had Sersi if only he shared her love for them.
But there was this nagging thought that plagued him throughout his life on Earth. A pair of unseen eyes that followed his every move, even when he took to the skies and that hum of power that shadowed him everywhere. If it were human, it would have died before the end of his first century on this planet but it did not. Instead, it persisted through time before he found you.
You. A small, frail thing. Insignificant in the fabric of time and space. You, who did not even come up to his eyes. A little slip of a being . You had power that vibrated through him throughout the ages. You were not human, that was for sure and it baffled him. Everything came and went around him, including his family, but you were a constant. What were you? He was adamant to figure you out.
He watched as you stepped out of your apartment building, pulling your coat closer to your body to stave off the chill that was settling the city. You looked nondescript like the people of the town, which made it impossible for him to keep track of you. You knew how to blend in perfectly and he had to keep up with the influx of people.
You entered the only bar in the town and he followed you, keeping enough distance so you didn’t know he was scoping you. You sat at one of the booths and from your expression, made friendly conversation with one of the waitresses. He sat at the bar, keeping his head down at the menu but his eyes were still trained on you.
What were you? What was the energy that buzzed about you? He thought to himself as he ordered a beer.
Were you a Celestial? You were tiny for a Celestial. Perhaps an Eternal with Deviant syndrome but you did not look like it. You were most definitely not human because you have been alive for ages. A god? They have met all gods and goddesses, had one amongst them but you were not that. What were you?
He watched you eat your meal. Small bites, small cuts. You were very human that it was pitiful of him to watch you. He knew you were going to die someday, anyway. He was just wasting his time figuring you out.
He dropped his money on the counter and went out of the bar, all thoughts of you leaving him. You were not necessarily a Deviant but you were a deviation of the usual. No one should have the hum of power like you do but it wasn’t his business anymore. As long as you did not interact with him—
Claws dug on his arm as he was lifted upward into the sky. He twisted his body and willed the cosmic laser to shoot out of his eyes. He zapped on the Deviant’s claw, freeing him. He took a free-fall before regaining his balance and flying to follow the Deviant.
Ajak would have to be informed of the Deviant running amok. He knew they have killed them all but if there was one free, there would be others.
He aimed his eyes on the monster, running a line down its back and with brute force, pushed it down the middle of the road. He heard people crying and fleeing but it did not matter to him. They have evolved enough to know to run at the first sign of danger.
The monster apparently evolved as well. Its body began to regenerate. Ikaris grabbed it once more and pushed it against the shop window, breaking the glass and jamming its flesh against the jagged cuts. The monster groaned and its blood oozed from its wounds.
He zapped it once more with his eyes, cutting the grotesque creature down in the middle, effectively killing him.
“Ikaris!” He heard his name called. “Watch out!”
Only when he turned back, he found you with your hands up towards another Deviant, brilliant golden light emitting from your palms. The monster clawed and bit its way to you but you held strong. Your powers—a force field of sorts—only flickered at where the creature swiped but it did not break.
“A little help would be nice, Ikaris.” You said and he heard the struggle in your voice.
He took to the skies again, cosmic lasers zeroing in on the head of the monster until it erupted into blood and muscle, drenching the surroundings.
The hum of your powers died down as he watched you pull the golden light back to your hands. He looked around for any more sign of the monsters before he flew down, watching you wearily. So that was what the hum was, he thought to himself as he looked at your unassuming appearance.
“What are you?” he asked. He would not let you go until he had his answer. If you were a threat, he would not think twice of eliminating you.
You looked up at him, face solemn and set. You took a deep breath in.
“I’m your guardian angel.”
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mrskurono · 4 years ago
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a/n: the second chapter! This was going to be longer but I decided to divide it up into two for ease of reading. Gege gives us no canon idea yet so who knows if any of this is right word count: 2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, takes place during this current arc in the manga, I can’t say manga spoilers bc we don’t know what’s going on, Culling Game content character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt l
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No lie when you descended the mountain side from the empty temple. 
In fact you had never seen so many cots and sleeping arrangements in one place. Every piece of floor under Kamo name seemed to have a pair of feet on it. Most of them not even familiar with the grounds. Many of them found outside in this mess just like you had been. All of them proclaiming thanks to the young heir who'd shepherded them to this safe haven at least.
Displaced. And taken in without question. Noritoshi truthfully wasn't lying. At least about this.
Among those rescued were bunches of children. Someone knowing where their parents were. And some less fortunate. When a group of them who'd been seen without a parent or guardian since you came, were circled around a little girl who'd tripped. You found a moment of purpose to help when everything else was in disarray. 
Wiping clean your hands on the backs of your pants after helping get the smudge of dirt off the little girls knees. And assure the rest of the kids that there was no blood and no one was going to get them. They were put at ease and acting more like rowdy kids as they began to go their own way once again. You don't quite hear what the cluster of kids said when they run off in the opposite direction. Unaware of most things but what was right in front of them after you consoled them. 
Instead of what was right in front of you, your eyes drift up towards the same thing you had been staring at every day since descending down the hill.
"It got bigger."
More than just caught off guard. You whip around to the semi familiar voice behind you. Noritoshi, with his arms crossed under the sleeves of his robes as he leans into the side of the doorway the kids originally tripped through. He was looking exactly at what you were as well. Looming over most of the city and Kyoto countryside was an eye sore more than just a new building. 
A blotch along the skyline. 
Devoid of light and overshadowing everything else. Even at high noon it felt like days had become dimmer since that thing blossomed into existence. Just like the rank stench of a curse. Whatever that thing was left your nostrils burning and skin crawling.
Noritoshi pushed off the door frame and straightened back up, "Do you have a moment?"
"Seems that's all I have these last few days." You retort to your host. Gracious as he was. The past two days felt nothing short of cabin fever from feeling so useless amongst the uncertainty. Not as humorous about it as you seemed to be. You redact your comment and answer him, "Yeah what?"
Still facing up towards the nameless bubble that overtook much of Kyoto, Noritoshi came beside you to clear his throat and lower his voice, "I was wondering if you gave anymore thought to what I told you."
Your eyebrow arched up, "That I can kill you if you lied to me?" The Kamo family head was not amused again so you folded your arms and stiffened up a little, "That sounded like gibberish. How am I suppose to believe anything you said when communications are basically down."
"The heads of the family have always been in contact," Noritoshi drew his attention away from the looming threat and back onto you, "The clans existed before the elders even. Besides, we were allotted more direct information today."
"Ok?" 
"I'd like to that to show you."
This sounded like a favor being disguised as something else. You hold onto your breath unsure what was in the best interest of you or anyone at this point. All you really knew was everything stunk like a persistent curse and you wanted it to end.
"Why aren't the clans working together then?" You poise a real question any sane thinking human would come up with. While equipped to deal with curses you did not feel equipped to deal with the politics of it all. 
A grimace on his face unlike the one the day before, "Things are....less than ideal."
"Really?"
Noritoshi wasn't delighted with your tone.
You sigh and decide against anything to self serving at his expense, "Fine. If it means possibly keeping everyone safe then what is it?"
That caught him slightly off guard, "What about yourself?" Noritoshi asked frankly.
Of course you scowl that someone from one of the clans would ask that, "I didn't become a Jujutsu Sorcerer to keep myself safe."
Admirable. He had to nod to that. Turning away quickly when he beckoned you to follow him back towards the innards of the Kamo estate.
Unlike the last time you were invited into what could only be described as a mock situations room. That had been involving dirty stares from a handful of men you didn't know or even heard of. And your credentials as a sorcerer scrutinized even in a time of panic when you thought help would be welcomed with open arms. Apparently the clans firmly held onto the idea that those serving themselves was severing everyone around them. You objectiably had different ideas about sorcery. 
Thankfully unlike last time when you had to deal with a room full of stuffy mindsets. You were surprised but worried to find no one awaiting to tell you that you couldn't be in there. 
What was there happened to be a jumble of papers, or what could constitute as a jumble, and two chairs pulled away from the table. Something about the urgency of such a small meeting left your skin crawling seeing the mess. Unease not worn often on your exterior. You looked around at the papers on the table and no one going over them.
"What is this?" You pick up the first few on the top with what appeared to be Noritoshi's hand writing all over them. Most of it seemed like chicken scratch saved for one word you picked out of the bunch, "Culling? What? What is this?"
Somber look on his pale features left Noritoshi gathering his thoughts like he was doing to the papers strewn out, "The heads of the family received more information on what those things seem to be connected to."
"Why aren't you discussing this with your clan then?" 
A pause from the man next to you, "...it seems alliances are already being formed."
Your brows pinch together leaving you to search for more of the papers on the table for an explanation, "Alliances? Alliances of what? What does this have to do with the giant stink ball in Kyoto? Or the curses? What does this have to do with what you told me yesterday about the Shibuya incident report?"
Something unfamiliar on the Sorcerer's face. You hadn't seen it yet. Something accustomed to worry crept onto Noritoshi and he handed you one piece of paper yet to make it into your grasp, "You couldn't have any idea working independently. That's why I asked you to come look these over. I just...I need someone to tell me they're reading this like I am."
Swelling your chest with a deep breath. You snatch the paper from him with a skeptical look once over. Whatever could be conjured up to add worse news to the unleashed curses rampaging across Japan. You held your breath with your eyes scanning it over. Feeling the air in you slowly draw out. Just as you finished the last few sentences. Suddenly you understood what could have made this worse.
"...it wants us to die..." Hands clammy and grasping for another deep breath, you read over the part again about the nineteen day warning. 
No, it wasn't a warning. This was an outright threat.
You shake your head trying to count the days that had melded together in your mind since everything went haywire, "That means...well, one...two...four-"
"Every Jujutsu Sorcerer has two weeks," Noritoshi having already done the math tipped his head down to scan the table for something. He took the deep breath you just couldn't seem to get a hold of. He grabbed for a paper tucked under pens and you watch them roll and scatter away from him, "...As of yesterday I may have sent a small handful of Kamo members to check the site out."
"Before you go this information?"
Noritoshi nodded, "I got this only an hour ago." He focused on the paper in front of him, "There were five sorcerers sent....and none of them have contacted me since they left."
Rightfully so you didn't like where this was going.
"I need to go look for them...I can't leave people to die like this." Noritoshi, though most the time calm and without a crack to his facade, faced you with both his eyes open and a waiver to his tone, "Will you come with me? Please, if something is going to happen to other sorcerers I can't let them be a victim of my own faults."
Much like the confrontation when you both ran into each other in the abandoned temple. This request left you at odds with your choices. Like coming with him or staying up at the temple alone. You could go with him. Or you could tell him no.
No meant possibly saving your own hide. But thinking about what those papers said, well, saving yourself seemed to mean nothing with a countdown. Only slight extension of the inevitable.
"Who will stay here to watch the civilians then?" A real concern you saw with non sorcerers piled into one place. The buffet for a curse or two that might catch a whiff of the displaced humans.
"I have sorcerers stationed here. With a single grade two member and a handful of semi-grade two sorcerers." Noritoshi had planned straticigally even before knowing everything that came into light, "You're at least a semi-grade one I take it."
The assumption irked you as you hadn't divulged anything yet to him for the sake of keeping as many tokens stacked in your favor, "....something like that, I suppose."
"Then we should be ok for any curses if we're careful."
"And why ask me instead of one of your own?"
"Because...." Noritoshi dropped his gaze down to the mess in front of him, "...I can trust someone who has no ties to the clans." He stopped and looked at you, "You'll kill me if I'm lying, which means more people will be safe if in fact sorcerers are turning on people."
He was right. About killing him. Not once had the thought left since being on high alert during all of this. If everything you read on those notes were right then going alone was suicide. For either of you.
"...One promise," You firmly demand. Noritoshi remains silent but nods. Finally with a deep breath you find your calm, "...neither of us go in that thing until the eighteenth day. Even if your members already went into it."
He held out on your words for a moment. Either mulling them over or finding something to make you promise. Finally Noritoshi spoke up, "...what happens on the eighteenth day then?"
What would happen? You could see if this set of rules was a bluff or you could comply. Either outcome seemed grim with little control for anyone at all. Faux hope with what you said next.
"On the eighteenth day we both go in." You said somberly, "I'll go in with you and anyone else you deem trustworthy enough." 
For a second it looked like he was going to carry on about something. But there was one thing you had to remind him to see crystal clear about all this.
Stepping close to the sorcerer your voice lowers and you make him look at you, "...I will kill you if you're lying. That promise still stands. Either you're on my side or your not....culling game or not, I won't let someone rule over me. Got it?"
Maybe he was getting use to it. Or perhaps Noritoshi believed you both to be truthfully on the same side now. He gave a nod and didn't falter, "I expect nothing else from the angel of death I met on the mountain side."
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gloves94 · 4 years ago
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Kingdom of the Sun [Fire Lord Zuko] 3
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Chapter Warnings: Heavy petting, angst Story Rating: M Pairings: Zuko/OC
Kingdom of the Sun MASTERLIST Last Airbender MASTERLIST My MASTERLIST
"There you are!" A familiar feminine voice echoed the cave. The cold lovers turned to see Suki and Sokka creeping inside of the hole in the wall that they called an ice cave. Sokka was holding a gas lantern that seemed to glow in the darkness. It had been awfully quiet outside, the only sound that could be heard was the howling wind that blew by. Sokka looked at the couple that was inside. Specifically, at how they were sitting. Zuko was sitting against one of the icy walls slightly hunched forward. In between his wide open legs sat the auburn-haired girl wrapped in his thick wool cape, his arms were around her holding against his body, his head comfortably resting on top of hers. Sokka also noted the discarded winter clothing and weapons that had been carelessly thrown across the small space. A sly knowing grin made way to his face. Those two were freaky and he knew it. "Looks like you two kept busy while hiding out here in your little snow bungalow." He said while childishly sniggering at the red-faced girl’s expression. "I fell through the ice and almost died. Zuko's just… keeping me warm." She explained. The Fire Lord simply breathed out a firey exhale which made him resemble a dragon and shot his friend an irked glare. “Mhnn… Sure,” The Water Tribe boy arched a teasing eyebrow the knowing smirk still plastered to his face. Suki stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, her expression mirrored his. The Kyoshi Warrior laughed a little, her eyes drifting up eyeing the cave’s dripping ceiling “I’m surprised the place didn’t melt down.” “Get dressed and let’s get back up. Luckily nobody got hurt. We captured the one responsible for all of this mess.”
xxx The celebratory mood had definitely been killed. It was a miracle Katara’s grandmother hadn’t had a heart attack on the spot or something. It really seemed like it had all been one massive distraction, the only casualty of the several explosions being Tsai’s ship. Thankfully there was no one on board at the time.
She hated to admit it, but her mother had been right. She should’ve known this would happen. Now dressed in warmer clothes, yet still feeling cold and uneasy at the cold brush with death she stood with the group as they huddled outside of a snow building where the assassin’s accomplice was being held. Several oil lamps planted outside illuminated the space. Aang and Katara were still dressed in their ceremonial robes and Tsai couldn’t help but feel guilty about having ruined their ceremony.   “He hasn’t said a single word since we captured him,” explained Chief Hakoda who was stepping out from the holding building.
“What matters is that nobody got hurt,” Aang said a hard look on his gray eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense,” Katara said holding a hand against her mouth in a pensive matter. “Why would anybody do this?”
It had obviously all been one large ploy to distract everybody. The assassins knew they wouldn’t be able to kill anyone with the Avatar and his team nearby. A diversion to scatter the group in their separate ways seemed like the best option to then strike.
“I’m sorry,” Tsai stepped forward, eyes lowered in a guilty expression. “This is all my fault. My mother warned me not to come. It’s been happening more and more often now but it’s not rare for somebody to come and try assassinate me- “ “Or me-“ Zuko added at her side, arms crossed over his chest. She looked at him with a concerned expression. He wasn’t wrong. They could’ve both been targets. Two birds one stone. Whoever sent these assassins knew that the Fire Lord and the girl from the Republic of Nations would probably be together. “It was obviously meant to be a distraction so the assassins could strike.”
“Regardless, I’m pretty sure he’s not coming back out of the water.” An unpleasant chill went down her spine as she thought of the man’s dreadful ending. The terrible feeling of the icy water still prickling at her skin like needles. “Question is- who sent them?” Chief Hakoda asked stroking his chin wisely, slightly pacing around in the snow. Tsai looked pensive. Her head lowered with burdening shame before allowing a sigh of defeat escape her lips. “It’s my father,” She admitted. “He’s beyond reason. He’s behind the Anti-Revolutionary Movement. Wants to take the colonies himself as an absolute monarch.” “But the revolution is over,” Sokka butted. “The Republic of Nations has been well established for some time now. He can’t create an uprising, much less by-“ Suki added before her tone faltering in hesitation at the end. “It’s okay, you can say it,” she drowned out to her friend. “By killing me,” she finished her friend’s words. “It’s not the first time that one of our dads went nuts and tried to kill someone in the group.” ‘Although, hopefully it’s the last…’ She thought the last part to herself. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Tsai couldn’t tell if it was either due to frustration, the painful memory of his father or just plain irritation. “So, your father thinks he will accomplish just what by killing you?” Toph asked bluntly with her arms crossed over her chest. “Many see me as a symbol of the independence of the colonies,” She trailed off holding her arm uncomfortably. “He thinks that killing me will send a message, spark a coup d’etât, a movement. We’re not fighting a man here; we’re fighting an ideology.” “What ideology?” Aang probed. “Anarchy,” Zuko responded with a sullen tone. “Your father is an anarchist. I wouldn’t be surprised if his ideals went hand in hand with the New Ozai Society.” The group shared a moment of silence. The hollow wind blowing by. The oil lanterns crackling lightly in the darkness. “So, what are we waiting for?” Toph arched a challenging eyebrow breaking the group silence. “Let’s go back to the Republic and wait for the snakes to come out of their holes,” she punched her own fist an excited grin on her face. Scattered humorous huffs were heard.
Now this was more like the good old days. “It’s not that simple Toph,” Katara butted. “All of these people, they’re underground. They’re not gathered in one place. There’s no way of knowing who’s who or who’s involved.” “There is one way…” Zuko’s eyes glinted darkly as he raised his head up to the building were the hostage was being kept. “He won’t talk.” Hakoda answered as he read the torturous idea the Fire Lord had in mind. “I’ll make him,” Zuko spat in an angry tone. Tsai looked at him with a concerned expression, she didn’t know if it was instinctual or not, but she wrapped her hands around his arm for a moment in an attempt to ground him and his infamous temper. “Zuko’s right. We have to get him to talk,” Sokka trailed off pensively. “Not here. He’ll return to the Fire Nation with me.” The group murmured and discussed ideas to make the captured prisoner cooperate. And yes, Aang’s ‘Why don’t we just ask him nicely?’ was immediately discarded. Lion Turtles, the boy had the patience of a saint.
“For now, this works in our favor. I think our best play is making your father and the other Anti-Revolutionaries think that you’re dead.” The Chief said placing a comforting hand on Tsai’s shoulder for a moment. “What?” Her eyes grew a little wide in surprise. “And then what? He’s going to attack the city again! My brother can’t hold him off alone! What about my family?” “Don’t worry,” Toph continued to squeeze her knuckles and Tsai got the impression that regardless of the situation the girl just really, really wanted to beat someone down. “We’ll lend him a hand.”   “It’s also best if your mom and brother think…” Sokka trailed off uneasily. She lowered her head a little. “Geez…” She huffed at the thought. “If my mom finds out I’m not really dead, then I really am dead,” she said dramatically at the thought of facing her mother’s wrath. “I can’t do that to them. It’s too painful,” she pleaded with the group. How could she put her family through such a painfully emotionally ordeal? It would be cruel and unnecessary. “It’s for the best.” Katara said reaching for her arm just like her dad had done a moment ago. “We’ll go deliver the news ourselves. We’ll also be on guard if anything arises.” Katara explained in a comforting tone. “I’ll have an army sent to the Republic of Nations for precaution.” The Fire Lord spoke still seeming deep in thought. “And what am I going to do?” She said frustrated stretching her arms out. “Hide away here in a snow bungalow? “You didn’t seem to mind before,” Sokka muttered under his breath laughing to himself. Earning him a punch on the side to keep quiet from his girlfriend. “You’re more than welcome to stay if you’d like,” Chief Hakoda said in a welcoming tone before retreating and walking inside of the building where Ty Lee and other Southern Tribe Warriors were guarding the prisoner. Her face turned a little blue at the thought of being in the ice tundra for another day. “It might be best if you return to the Fire Nation with Zuko,” Aang said. Her eyes peeled wide open as panic surged through her. Going back to the Fire Nation? With him… She swallowed the breath that had caught in her throat. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. After all, Fire Nationers weren’t particularly welcoming to her…
Unconsciously her body flinched slightly at the thought. Her mind drifting to unpleasant memories of the last time she was in the nation. “Aang’s right,” Suki added. “There’s no way anyone would be able to hurt you inside of the Fire Nation.” “You’ll be safe there,” Katara insisted. All of her friends were trying to make the girl’s concerned expression morph into a more relaxed one. But how could one relax in a situation like this? Going back to the Fire Nation with Zuko… Yeah maybe they had gotten a little carried away earlier, but it had been a life or death situation. She had a terrible feeling that there would soon be a confrontation between the two of them and frankly she was dreading it. “I’ll keep you safe,” She turned to look at his golden eyes and whole heartedly knew that he meant it. His hand placed gently in the middle of her back. The look in his eyes made her blood warm her ears and she felt an unflattering patch of red form on her neck.
She turned away hoping nobody would notice the blush creeping on her face. Her hands reaching for her hard temples as she rubbed them lightly already anticipating a terrible headache to come. “My mother is going to kill me…” xxx
By the time it was past midnight everybody had once again gone their separate ways. They had all hugged tightly and exchanged their good wishes. Except for Toph. When Tsai attempted to hug her, she made a massive pillar of black earth rise from underneath throwing her off her balance and told her to go hug a snowman or something. The only hope of reuniting in the future being Aang and Katara’s soon to be wedding.
Zuko had decided to travel by airship since it was considered to be faster. Tsai was to be his honored guest and Ty Lee and Suki accompanied them as their Kyoshi Warrior bodyguards. She presently lay alone in a cold bed with her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to keep warm. She rubbed her feet together, against each other like a cricket, as she was still suffering from the effects of having fallen into the freezing arctic ocean just a couple of hours ago. She would be very surprised if she didn’t develop a cold in the next day or so. She couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know what was keeping her up, if it was her cold body, anguishing concerns over her family, the stress over fighting all of these groups that sought to destroy her and Zuko. Horrible thoughts about the last time she was in the Fire Nation…
She couldn’t be here anymore. She wanted to talk to someone. Carefully tiptoeing out of her room, making sure not to make any noise. She was bluntly caught in the act only a moment after. She stood like a deerdog in headlights. Suki standing outside in the middle of the corridor with her arms crossed over her chest coolly. She gave her friend a knowing look. "Did you want to talk to Zuko?" She asked with a knowing expression on her features. “Me?” Tsai chuckled nervously. “Nope,” she said popping the ‘p’ in the word innocently. “I just got lost.” She lied awkwardly, a nervous grin giving away her intentions of entering the Fire Lord’s chambers in the middle of the night.
Her friend laughed a little and walked towards her shaking her head lightly. “I just want to talk with him,” she explained averting her eyes. With a smirk Suki reached for her sleeping shirt and unbuttoned the top two buttons of it, pulling the hem low to make her cleavage more pronounced. Her hands moved expertly as they reached for the sides of her head and ruffled up her hair making it messier and appear more voluptuous. She finished by pinching her cheeks hard making them turn a blushing red. “Ow!” the other protested. “I told you we’re only going to talk.” She said swatting her hand away. “Sure.” Both girls shared a light laugh. “Go get him,” Suki said nudging her on. “Have a nice talk,” she wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. Actually, causing the other girl’s face to turn even redder. Tsai walked inside of the room carefully. It was pitch black with the exception of a dim candle that sat on the nightstand on the empty side of his large bed. Quietly, she slid her bare feet across the floor hoping not to bump into anything until she reached the edge of his bed. She gathered he was probably fast asleep from the unmoving lump that lay underneath the bed’s covers. The mattress sank under her weight as she climbed on the bed and crawled towards him. She reached for his naked shoulder his name about to drop from her lips when she was suddenly jerked down, a sharp object zooming towards her.
She lay frozen, pinned under a heavy naked torso a blade hovering mere inches away from her eye.
Zuko looked down at her, a firm hand wrapped around her throat lightly pressing down, his knees bended on top of her legs keeping her immobilizing his enemy. His hair loose and undone falling on either sides of his face.
The thought of him welcoming every assassin that attempted to strike him like this made Tsai grow a little envious.
His molten golden eyes looked down at her barely illuminate face. He looked at her messy, long hair sprawled out on the pillow, her flushed face, parted open lips as she held in what he interpreted to be a shaky breath of surprise. He whispered her name in surprise and lowered the knife. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve grown used to sleeping with an eye open,” he put the blade on the nightstand next to the candle. “I never thanked you for what you did for me. You didn’t have to do any of that.” She began. If the two of them were to return to the Fire Nation together it would be best to get the uncomfortable confrontation out of the way. It wouldn’t be pleasant. This conversation was bound to happen anyways, it was best to get it out of the way and discuss, well, define, just what the hell the two of them were. That is- if they were anything at all to begin with. For all that she knew maybe the two were rekindling old emotions, burning off some frustrated pent up steam. His eyes lingered on her expression. Yet he said nothing remaining silent. His warm body still pressing against hers. There was an intense look in his eyes, a raw emotion she was unfamiliar with burning in them. The look made her feel vulnerable as he studied her. Not removing himself or his prying eyes from her he waved a hand over the candles and the two were consumed by a sudden darkness.
Guess there wouldn’t be much talking tonight. Blindless lingered in her eyes for a moment before they adjusted to the absence of light. The hand on her neck lowered and splayed over her chest, his digits tracing the flesh over her clavicles. His other reached for her side, fingers almost like snakes slipping underneath her shirt with such ease and tenderness that goosebumps became erect on her arm. He leaned in with a calculated manner, stopping only a torturous distance before her mouth. His nose tracing her features, bumping into hers. She could feel his breath warming her face. Slowly, torturously his mouth barely grazed hers. “I miss you,” she admitted breathlessly and in return he kissed her hard. He kissed intensely with longing, teeth clicking together as their lips moved against each other. “I miss you more,” he spoke gruffly against her mouth. A rough groan dripping with wanting escaped his lips. It was the involuntary king that made his chest rumble. He pressed his groin against hers grinding into her.   His other hand slid further up her body. Fingers mapping out her skin. His other hand rounded around her head tangling in her locks of hair. She held her longing breath, the girl practically dripping with anticipation. A familiar itch between her legs begging to be scratched. She reached for the other buttons of her night shirt and began undoing them. Again, his hand snaked back down to the exposed skin above her clavicles. The warm hand sliding lower and lower until it reached her breast. It lingered there for a long moment, his fingers pressing down on her skin, yet remained stiff. He remained frozen for a long moment. Long enough for her to consider voicing out a concern but didn’t. Instead, she felt the unwelcome absence of his warmth as he removed himself from her. The cold aid greeting her harshly.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized scratching his nose nervously. She saw him retreat and sit on the edge of the bed both of his feet planted on the floor as he lightly slouched completely turning away from her.
She lay still. Cheeks puffed. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to pull at her hair due to all the pent-up frustration and storm out of the room- but she wouldn’t. She had to be patient. She had to be understanding. She had to be respectful.
Just like he had been when he made his own demands to her the last time, they were together… Her pride was wounded. She knew, deep in her heart that he didn’t mean to hurt her, that he didn’t mean it like this, that he had his own reasons for being so reserved. That he wasn’t being a tease. Knowing that she had also hurt him all the same if not worse the last time they had been together in the Fire Nation made everything impossibly worse. But the ugly feeling of being undesired by the person you desire the most… It hurt. Once again… he had neglected her. She silently let out a breath she had been holding and pushed her pride and sexual frustrations to the side.
“I’m under a lot of stress,” he confessed. “I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t-“ He sighed in distress, his voice trailing off and buried his head in his hands in frustration. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She saw his back muscles moving slightly as he hunched over. She looked at him with sadness, with guilty from wanting more of him. Her body still hot. However, those were demands she could not make of him. After all love was patient, love was kind… Zuko’s body stiffened when he felt a touch on his back, it took him a moment to relax when a pair of arms wrapped around his torso holding him in a close embrace. She pressed her cheek against his back and closed her eyes listening to his drumming heart beating. “It’s okay,” she whispered reassuringly planting a gentle kiss in between his shoulder blades and then another one on his shoulder. “Let’s try and get some sleep,” she comforted him and pulled his torso to lay back on the bed. “Come on.” She insisted when he remained still. However, after a moment he caved. He lay on his side turning away from her. He seemed distant and cold. She said nothing, swallowing her pride and respecting his space. Maybe it was best if she left. Maybe it was too painful, too confusing, not only for him, but for her too. Too many emotions for one day. She tossed the covers off her body getting ready to return to her chambers. “Stay,” he demanded. His voice soft.
She wasn’t expecting him to say anything. She froze, her eyes looking back at the Lord that had now turned to face her, slightly sitting up.
Coming here tonight had been a bad idea. Scratch that. Coming to the ceremony, specifically to seek him out had been a terrible idea. What was she hoping to accomplish? The two of them getting back together... Their relationship returning back to normal only for the two to again split when push came to shove? He looked at her with pleading eyes. He reached for her arm and despite never having felt the sensation of skin burning in her life she guessed this was probably what it felt like. Anguish knotting in her throat rendering her silent. She gradually turned and caved to his touch. Slipping underneath the bed covers and facing him. Her hand touching his face, she caressed the scar that marked him, tracing it with the back of her hand. She looked at him with an endearing expression in her eyes and a heavy heart before lightly pressing her lips against his scarred skin.
After all this time she still loved him…
He said nothing in return and leaned forward burying his face on her chest. He took in a deep breath inhaling the scent he had missed so much, welcoming the familiar touch he starved for, lightly kissing the flesh he longed for. And he still loved her… He knew they would be having the unpleasant conversation that would define their relationship soon. Their emotions, their future, their intimacy, their fall… It would all have to be painfully dissected. But for now, this would do. This unspoken sad language the two of them seemed to share. He placed a hand on her side, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the skin underneath her shirt.
She held him close in a bittersweet embrace. Love, sadness, much regret, wanting and disappointment were all in the bed with them. Not another word was exchanged between the two. It wasn’t necessary. She rested her head on top of his and she ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.
Some moments later she could feel his rhythmic breathing warming her skin, his hand still draped on her side. He had fallen asleep. She couldn’t see his expression yet felt a little relieved knowing he was actually resting. One of her legs possessively tangled in between his.
Tsai was left alone with her distressing thoughts; painful tears prickled the edges of her eyes threatening to spill. She missed him so much. She still loved him so much. How could they have allowed themselves to do this to each other? A single tear slid down her face and she pressed her lips kissing the top of his head.
Her mind drifting to an unpleasant memory. She could still vividly remember their downfall.   It had been that horrible day...   She could still remember the smell of moisture and myrrh incense in the Dragon Catacombs…
She squeezed her eyes shut tight and prayed for the dark memory to go away, but it didn’t…
xxx
AN: Sorry this took me so long, I wasn't sure in what direction to go in this chapter, but overall I'm happy with it! (of course angst because I can't just let these 2 be happy) Alright, next chapter is going to be a flashback chapter and we're about to find out what happened in the Dragon Catacombs... prev: https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/624849870080131072/kingdom-of-the-sun-firelord-zuko-2 next: https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/625513136018112512/kingdom-of-the-sun-fire-lord-zuko-4
Kingdom of the Sun MASTERLIST Last Airbender MASTERLIST My MASTERLIST
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dexcidium · 6 years ago
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Without ideals, our lives would be meaningless. Without empathy, humanity cannot advance. And without dreams, we have nothing to strive for.
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Hey folks, it’s ya boi back with another rambly thingo where I vomit words onto a screen. Don’t worry though, this does relate back to FGO, Guda and even the Fate series and what it represents as a whole. So I just finished Camelot. And without contest, it is hands down the best piece of writing that’s come out of FGO (In NA at least) so far. Of course who else could have written it but the madman himself? That’s right. Kinoko Nasu. The man who started it all, and the creative genius behind the Fate series, and the Nasuverse as a whole. Hence, the name ‘Nasuverse’.
Before my hand gets tired with jerking off Nasu, let’s move on to… well, I guess it’s more accurate to say that we should take a step back and look at the Fate series as a whole. Do something for me: what comes to mind when you think of Fate. Perhaps it’s its most basic premise: heroes of the past duking it out in a battle royale. Perhaps it’s even a specific character that you love in the series. And perhaps even one of the series’ multitude of flaws. But to me, it comes down to a single word:
Idealism.
We all have our own ideals. And we all live with certain beliefs that complement those ideals. Way back when during the Stay Night era of things, we had Emiya Shirou. The embodiment of idealism. He wanted to be a hero of justice, to save everyone. But that’s just what it was. An ideal. Shirou was fundamentally weak. His magecraft at that point was so useless in actual combat besides making things harder. He trained his body, sure. But a single man can’t save the world. And this persisted as the narrative went on. No matter how much he did get stronger, he will never save the world. Even with sacrifice. Even when his literal future self came to fucking kill him because he knew that his hands will never hold anything. This boy kept going towards those ideals.
It was unshakeable and it was clear that there was nothing (besides death) that’d get him to stop. Of course, Shirou doesn’t seem human at all. His thought process is rather… robotic in this case. He exists to keep going for those ideals. Sure he has his hobbies, family, and friends. But all of that is surface level. At his very core, his ideal lies. To become a hero of justice. Though I’m pretty sure there’s a couple of endings that has him giving those ideals up in Heaven’s Feel.  But nine times out of ten – he doesn’t stop. And in a way, he’s rejected his humanity and become a machine of heroism. But a hero isn’t just about saving people. There’s so much more to it. And it’s a lot darker than it sounds.
Enter Emiya Kiritisugu. A nihilistic, broken man who seems to have lost it all only to find that he hadn’t lost it all, but then loses it all anyway. He was cursed in so many different ways. And he too, wanted to be a hero of justice. But his fundamental ideals were different. Sacrifice the few to save the masses. If he’d had to kill his own wife and daughter. He’d do it. Sacrifice was the only thing Kiritisugu knew. And this was reflected when he was engulfed by the grail in the 4th holy grail war. It showed him exactly how he was to save the world: to slaughter what he cares about the most in order to save the masses. But there was an err. A logical error. His wish was to save the world. But he didn’t know how and this corrupted piece of magical shit could only grant wishes the way the user knew how. And so even this omni-potent wish granting device couldn’t save the world. Because the man who wanted to save the humans who inhabited said world, was no longer thinking like a human. He too, as his son would, would become a machine that saved people using his own principles. But he had lost his idealism. His own wasn’t a perfect world. Which is a contradiction to what an ideal is. A person’s perfect view. What they wanted they wanted the world to be like.
But that no longer existed. Kiritsugu had seen humanity at its cruellest. With him participating in that same cruelty.
He was a monster of logic. Who only saw war as beyond hell. And violence as a tool of achieving a goal. Idealism is in itself is an unfair, and unrealistic view on life. And as a young boy who had a rather small world, only for that to be constantly taken from him again and again and again and again. Happiness didn’t exist for Kiritsugu . And when he did find happiness. It was always temporary. And it was always burnt away with the rest of his ideals. Every. Single. Time.
This is why he hated Arturia’s ideals so much. To him, a man who barely talked to this paragon of idealism, Arturia is nothing but a lie within herself. While Arturia saw battle as honourable and chivalrous, Kiritisugu knew war to be worse than hell itself. He was pragmatic, and cruel. Exemplified by how he took out Kayneth, his fiancé and his servant. Nothing about it was honourable. It was cruel, calculated and worse of all… it lacked human empathy. The very same thing that has corrupted humanity since our very existence. Without it; can you really be human? Or are you just a monster of war?
Kiritsugu is a hypocrite. He hates war but uses tactics prominent in war. He hates violence but uses nothing but the cruellest, efficient of ways to achieve his targets. Seeing the King of Knights battle witch such honour and respect… it irked him in such a way that he had to show this Saber exactly how war was nothing but a ploy to achieve his goals. But Kiritsugu was just as wrong as Saber was. While to him, Saber had been romanticizing the act of war, he had been so far devoid of the human aspect in ‘war’ that he forgot that humans were the ones making war. Often times, war is fought by people who never truly grasp the situation.
I’m sure you all know of the Christmas of 1914. The first world war. It’s a famous story where both sides of the war stopped just for that one day. No man’s land became populated with both sides of the coin. People were exchanging gifts, even playing ball for a time. They had so much in common after all. Both sides lived in terrible conditions in trenches, both sides just wanted to be back home with their families, and both sides just wanted the war to stop. And the most interesting of all… they both thought they were fighting for freedom. Both sides thought each other was the oppressor without ever truly realising what they were really fighting for.
And Kiritsugu lacked this fundamental understanding. War was indeed worse than hell. War wasn’t a grand, chivalrous battle either. But in his nihilistic views, he forgot the human factor. No normal human wants to make war. We’re not tools of war either, yet Kiritsugu had become one.
He was trying to use war to end war as a concept. But again. He didn’t know exactly how to go about that. And Saber, while you might think was ONLY being constantly being berated for her idealism, was proven to be somewhat right. Her lonely path did pave the way for her kingdom to prosper for a time. Even if it did fall: she did much more than Kiritsugu ever did. Gilgamesh in this case found her to be nothing but amusement. The contradiction in her idealism, and how Excalibur represented how brilliant those ideals were. And it was a beautifully animated, and breath-taking scene where that golden light, symbolising that perfect king… but Iskander? He saw it as a shame.  A regretful view. He saw it for how it truly was: a little girl never getting to partake in what she wanted in life. She never experienced that normalcy. She never got to experience what it meant to be a normal human being. As a result… she was distant and lonely. With little to no sense of what a normal human being is. And for the King of Conquerors… he was different. His idealism was something that he mostly achieved. The thrill of conquering, and the beauty of striving and achieving for more and more goals. He didn’t realise until the end that the journey was the thing that mattered to him the most: not the ideal. Saber was to be the Once and Future King. Saber was to be the Perfect King. Saber… no, King Arthur was the perfect picture of idealism.
And the Lion King is the King Arthur that went too far.
Enter Fate Grand Order. You, the protagonist, the most human of human that has ever human’d, are now on your sixth major mission. You, some kid from Tokyo who happened to see a flier at some time. You, an average joe who lived the most normal of lives. You, a normal person who just wanted to do some good in the world. A naïve kid who didn’t know what you were in for. And before you knew it, you’re all alone in your job when there were supposed to be forty-eight of you. All the responsibility now lies on you and you alone because you’re the only master around.
But you’re never truly alone. You’ve got people there who’ll support you in your endeavours. Even if you’re the only one in that role, those other people can lighten the burden by quite a lot. You’ve done a lot at this point. Endured the ravaging of the French country side against a tyrannical, twisted and idealised version of one of the most famous saints in the world. The awful writing that is the entirety of Septem. Survived the harsh seas of Okeanos with your very own pirate crew. Solved the mystery of London and encountered for the first time, the eventual end game. And just previously, you went on a round trip of the USA in its earlier days, fighting against the Celtic invasion with a thirsty ho at its reigns. Now, you’re on perhaps your most difficult journey as you go further back into the past.
This time, you’re seeing the aftermath of the ninth Crusade. Six months this singularity has been allowed to exist. And the irregularities in it are immediately prominent. Immediately, you’re thrusted into the harshest weather conditions you’ve had to endure in your career. And as you go on and on, you meet people who have been living here for those months.  Learning how everything changed and deviated from normal history. And how drastically worse their lives even after the crusades were done.
You see, the Crusades were absolutely terrible. It was about Christians taking back the holy land. Even the first crusade was just the crusaders ransacking, pillaging and taking EVERYTHING from even their own countries, and everything between the holy capital and Jerusalem. It was a terrible time for everyone that happened to be in the way. And to preface this: Muslims had Jerusalem for 450 years already at that point. That’s about as long as when Columbus “discovered” America and now. As Gawain described: they were grave robbers. Now the ninth crusade was meant to be the last one.
And now, imagine seeing the holiest of knights fending off those crusaders. Saving you and your home town. You’re just a kid. You were glad, overjoyed even. These Knights promised a utopia.
But there was a catch.
There was always a catch. Only those of the purest of hearts, incapable of evil would be allowed into this new holy city of Camelot. Everyone else?
They were to be slaughtered. They weren’t needed. Now your mother is selected. But you weren’t. And this Knight who literally brought sunshine where he had walked orders for your death. Thousands of people. But only three were selected.
The “saviours” that had saved you from the constant ransacking of your home, and your people’s home for a very long time are now telling you that you have no value as a human being. These holy knights so corrupted by their king’s ideals… that most of them no longer thought for themselves.
Now you’re just but an innocent boy. Your mother refuses to let you go. She was pure of heart after all. She didn’t want to let you get slaughtered. And so, in a last desperate act, saves you from a fatal blow. In the middle of a commotion, there was a small group creating a ruckus. A ruckus that allowed some people to run away from these unholiest of knights. But you don’t really notice. You’re too caught up in what was happening in front of you. Though, you didn’t quite realise your mother was now dead. And now, you’re vulnerable to the same fate. But just as you were about to meet that fate, someone saved you. A girl clad in purple with a big shield. And comes along this… seemingly normal-looking person in the midst of this crazy war filled with super humans, shouting out commands to people who were a hundred times more capable and powerful than them. This time, you were saved not by the people who promised a selective utopia. But some complete strangers who were just passing by.
This was the case for the NPC in the singularity, Rushd. A young boy who was smarter than the innocence he gave off. He was the few survivors of the tragedy that had plagued that area. The Holy Knights of Camelot. The Knights of The Round Table. Or what remains of it anyway.
Chaldea. Their goals were to preserve humanity. There isn’t an ideal in that. It’s simply just… self-preservation of one’s own species. One of the most basic of instincts as a human being. Now, this Camelot singularity was a result of King Arthur who had gone too far because she hadn’t gone and died as she should have after the battle of Camlann. Having summoned the Knights of The Round, and purging those who did not agree with this new promise of a utopia… even her own brother and relatives were amongst those. And now, this new Arturia… now known as The Lion King bestows these gifts to the remaining knights. But no, they were no gifts. They were restraints to ensure that they remained loyal to her. It was a curse.
Some were blinded by their loyalty, another was completely reversed from who they were as a person, another had lost all of their own goals and simply became suicidal… without realising it. They had lost their sense of self. They were no longer their own people. They were now only the Lion King’s Knights. Where free thought wasn’t encouraged, and individualism was a sin.
At its core, the utopia was no more than a glass cage. Preservation, yes. But then the people in it would cease to become human. They were to be eternal as humanity. But they had lost their humanity. That utopia was nothing but a false promise of a former human who had transcended humanity.
No, it isn’t quite correct. Rhongomyniad had taken control of Arturia’s body. Make no mistake. This was not Arturia Pendragon. The Once and Future King. This went beyond that idealism, too far into it. The distance that Arturia had as the King of Camelot back in her actual time had grown into an infinite. Because she already lacked that fundamental humanity to understand her subjects, she became a divine spirit. Simply an avatar of a greater power.
The spear of ends. Goddess Rhongomyniad.
She had transcended her humanity. Now, this king no longer viewed humanity as a human but as a goddess looking into a glass cage that must be preserved at all cost. Humans were essential to the world after all. But they were tools. Nothing more.
An idealism taken to its logical limit. And this shows how terrifying an ideal it is. About how good people can become monsters given this twisted circumstance. This essentially serves as a cautionary tale on how obsessing over an ideal isn’t a good thing. It’s actually fucking terrible. Because ideal is perfection. And there’s no such thing as true perfection. There will always be flaws. Always.
Now this was a terrifying reality. Arturia achieved this ideal with an iron fist, not caring about the emotions of the people she had taken into her lance. She had become a machine of ideals. And nothing but that. She had lost everything that made her into that character we knew at the end of Fate Zero and Fate Stay Night. That Arturia who had been discovering for the first time, what it means to be normal. It was quite nice to watch after seeing her struggle with her own ideals… realising that while yes, she had her regrets, those ideals didn’t matter. She had been happy. She had been so much happier being a simple girl than being that lonely king taking all that burden.
But now, there isn’t a shred of that left. This is the extreme end of how Arturia would be if she had not died when she had.
Now then comes along this normal-ass dude. This person was just helping people as they saw. They, and their group committed simple acts of human kindness as they went about their noble goal of correcting human history. Helping those people weren’t in their mission. They just did it because you know, people need basic human empathy to survive. Without it, humanity in its entirety would be nothing but machines of war and self-preservation, fighting against each other for their own beliefs. It’s be a shitty world without it.
Even the trashiest of the Fate universe, Fate Apocrypha hammers this into the viewer’s head. Shirou Kotomine’s ideal world was humanity’s salvation… but the way he would do it was taking away free will. And at that’s why Jeanne D’arc resisted so goddamn hard. Because that’s now humanity works. We were sinful creatures, yes. But there was also good. There needed to be a balance, not an idealised world where no one was allowed freedom.
Anyway, as Guda walks along through this new situation that they’ve been force in, having seen what they’ve seen, their basic instinct is telling them to help. But they’re realistic. They can’t help everyone. And they don’t obsess with that either. They do what they can. After all, they’re not super human. And even those super humans can’t possibly save everyone. Again, they’re just doing what they can. This was shown in Camelot were they could only let a few of the refugees survive because that was all they were capable of at the time. They still risked their asses by fighting the knights by doing so. But it does pay off.
They don’t strive for a ridiculous ideal. They understand after so many similar cases, after losing the rest of humanity to the King of Magic, after being burdened with the task of saving a world that won’t remember that they saved them, that they can only do what they can do. The obsession on idealism is potentially deadly to the human mind. It can poison one’s thoughts with nothing but high standards that this world can’t possibly meet. And then, no matter what one does, they’ll be let down. It’ll always end in disappointment.
But Guda takes that in stride, and just rolls with it. They go with the flow. That’s who they are. Yes, they’re always seemingly bright and happy. In this messed up world, somebody has to be. What they do may not be the most efficient things ever. But it works out for the better. You see, those little acts of kindness. That basic demonstration of human humility – it got them out of a myriad of tough situations. Each group they help, came back to help repay them in full. The people they rescued along the way, came back to help them take down Camelot. Nitocris, who they had rescued from Hundred-Face, continued to help them out and help evade the Raider Knights. And she continued to help them for helping her, and understanding her stubborn and proud nature. Showing respect and courage against Ozymandias had him respect them back and in turn, help them in the final show down. Showing that same zealousness against King Hassan had them gain his help. Cursed Arm was ready to lay down his life for this campaign. Guda continued to gain the trust of the other Hassans with their willingness to help. Of course, this also attracted a certain clumsy monk who was instrumental in breaking through the front gates of Camelot. And then there’s Arash. A good man in every sense of the word. He too, laid his life down so that Guda could finish their mission.
And of course, Bedievere. The knight who had lived 1500 years just so he could correct his mistake. You could say that he too was drowned in his own ideals. Again, he too was a cautionary tale.  Living 1500 years is not something a normal human can do. And yes, Bedi was not a servant. He was a living being in Camelot. One that lived that long so he could see the king he had devoted his everything to smile once again. He gets what he wanted but… this destroyed him. It cost him so many life times. It too, was something that humanity wasn’t going to remember.
Going back to Guda, they were only successful because they understood that the future wasn’t predetermined. However, they never truly understood that their basic human kindness would actually pay off. They were just doing what they thought was right. There was no need to over-simplify things. Because they were just acting as who they were. No ulterior motives. Everything was as clear as Arash’s beautiful smile. They were honest and lived that life honestly. Things fell into place because they accepted help from people unlike the people that came before them. They actively sought out that assistance because they knew their limits. They were doing what they can, and for things that they couldn’t do, they asked someone to help. It’s as simple as that. They weren’t consumed with this idea of idealism because what was the point? They’d never be the ideal person for this job. Some dude from Tokyo was all they were who happened to exhibit basic human kindness: something anyone is capable of.
Yet, they get so angry at the fact that Goddess Rhongomyniad had treated them like cattle to be watched behind a glass cage. Because humanity meant more than self-preservation. I went beyond Chaldea’s goal. Because to be human is so much more than that. And they understood that humans aren’t lonely creatures but one who needed companionship, not hostility. So they meet everyone with that same positive attitude. It wasn’t their job to be cautious. That was on someone else who was more capable of that. And that’s fine. Because their role was to be everyone’s master.
Blank enough for servants to project their own wants upon on, but enough of a personality to be their own self. That is who they are. And despite seeing atrocities beyond what a normally raised human being, they continue to be that shining beacon of light. They had people with them. They weren’t alone. They were just being themselves. They lovely, goofy, ‘I’ll go along with anything’ person. Always ready to tackle a new problem with an upbeat attitude. A complete shitlord of a magus, but because they didn’t have that traditional magi attitude that their natural charisma easily shines and leads on their servants. Encouraging them to be much more than to be weapons of war, and live a new life in Chaldea that could make them feel truly alive again. Best of all, they were making do despite the looming incineration of humanity. They were just being them. And that, is the most human thing they can provide for their servants.
In terms of being a protagonist, they had a couple traits that Kiritisugu, Shirou and Arturia lacked in being successful: the realization that the path to saving the world isn’t a lonely one, that you can’t save everyone, that connecting with other humans is important, and to never let go to that sense of normalcy that you’re fighting to save in the first place. Those three had lost it. They became a slave to their own ideals. Guda didn’t have super powers. Nor did they hold some grand ideal.
They’re just some dude who saw a flier that one time who happened to save the world.
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pizzamaximoff · 7 years ago
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Surprise (Jason Todd x Reader)
Here’s the first Valentine’s day special with Jason Todd 
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Just used this random gif cause I couldn’t find anything else to fit
Warnings: lil bit angst, lotta fluff
Words: 2,415
8:27 am
You awoke to an empty and cold bed, the same as you had fallen asleep in the previous night. Not much different from usual although you couldn’t blame your boyfriend, afterall he did go out most night protecting the city from harm. If it were any other day you would have shrugged it off and waited patiently for him to return later on. But today, today was Valentine’s day and although you didn’t mind much for the holiday you had hoped that maybe, just maybe you would get to spend they day with your beloved hero.
You rolled over onto your side, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. Lifting it up you waited for the screen to blink on. No new messages. Even so you decided to send your lover a text to celebrate the day, making sure to overload it with hearts, knowing he found it cringey (but secretly cute). You sighed, any thoughts of him remembering the date dampining your mood more.
9:00
About half an hour of moping in bed you finally got up. You took a long, hot shower, if you weren’t spending it with Jason you may as well still treat yourself to a relaxing one. Thanking the Gods that you didnt have work today you scrubbed away.
After you finished up and changed into some casual clothes you walked to the kitchen, eager to get some tea and something to eat. As you passed the island you noticed something strange, the dishes you left to dry over night had all been put away.
“He must have come home after all” you mutterd to yourself. While it was a pleasant surprise for him to help out with the little things, you do wish he had stayed long enough for you to at least see him.
10:44
An hour and a half of doing nothing, to say you were bored was an understatement. You had checked social media countless of times, thinking you could maybe hangout with your close friends instead to celebrate the day. Alas everyone was either romancing it up or busy working the day away. Your hopes of spending the day with your other loved ones being whisked away. The walls of your apartment were becoming unbareable and it was then that you decided maybe getting some fresh air would be a good thing. So you dragged yourself off the couch and to the door. You could tell be the sight outside it was a particularly cold day, even with the sun brightly shining. You pulled on your thick coat, making sure to put on your hat and scarf too (you did not want painfully frozen ears), and after grabbing your phone, earphones and keys you left the empty apartment. You sent Jason another message, notifying him of your whereabouts if he came home while you were out, noticing the message was unread. Maybe his phone died?
11:52
Great. It was if the whole world was out to remind you that you were alone today. Your music kept plaing love songs (that you’d usually enjoy but in the company of yourself the sappy lyrics were beginning to irk you). The whole park was filled with happy couples holding hands and smiling with glee. Sure it wasn’t their fault but it was still pissing you off. It was a battle to keep the scowl off your face and not look like a moody single. reaching a more secluded area you found a bench and too a seat, tired of walking. It was a quaint little area. Bushes surrounding a small pond, with a family of ducks amongst the greenery. Maybe you could bring Jason here, get away from all the chaos of life for a few moments. Although you’d have to come when it got warmer, the environment would be much more enjoyable when you could actually feel your limbs.
You pulled your icy phone out of your pocket. Still no reply. You unlocked his phone and clicked on his nickname, Jaybird, and for a moment your heart stopped.
Read 11:32, you gasped quietly. Read? You could understand him not seeing the message yet, he wasn’t on his phone nearly as much as yourself. But he had now read the message. Negative thoughts clouded your mind. Was he outright ignoring you. Knowing you shouldn’t over react and jump to conclusions you shook your head and rubbed away the potential tears. He probably absentmindenlty checked his phone before crashing asleep back home.
Sighing for the umpteenth time that day you decided to spend some more time in the park, even in the bitter air.
13:00
You decided to walk back. Even if he forgot you were still excited to see Jason. Maybe snuggle up and watch Romeo and Juliet while munching on sweets and chocolate, you knew he had a particular soft spot for Shakespeare. Now that would be an ideal Valentine’s day. A smile made its way onto your face at the thought, warming you from the inisde as you journeyed home through the streets of Gotham. A grin soon broke out on your cheeks as the music in your earphones dipped, signaling a new message. With the speed of the flash you whipped out your phone. If there was ever such a strong change in emotion it was now: your face fell drastically as you read the name on the screen, Tim.
Now it wasn’t that you disliked the younger boy, it was just that you were desperate to hear anything from Jason, even if it wasn’t in anyway romantic at all. You opened the message anyway, interested to see what he had to say.
From Timbo 13:26
Hey (y/n), I’m at your’s and Jay’s. No one was in so I used the spare key you guys gave Bruce.
From Timbo 13:26
Hope you don’t mind but I made myself a cup of coffee.
13:27
Let me know when you’ll be in.
You stopped in place. No one’s home? So where the bloody hell was Jason. You could feel anger beginning to well slighlty from his ignorance. Breathing out you got to texting Tim back, maybe you could ask him where your dear boyfriend was when you got home.
To Timbo
That’s cool, I’m on my back from the park now.
To Timbo
Won’t be long, make yourself at home.
From Timbo 13:32
Already have lol
Even with your negative mood you laughed at the antics of the younger boy. With that you locked your phone and continued walking home.
13:45
You unlocked the door and shed your outdoor layers.
“Hey (y/n)!” You heard Tim call from the lounge. You responded with a greeting, albiet not as enthusiastically. Once home ready you walked into the living room, chuckling at the sight of him lounging on the sofa, legs up with his phone and a mug of coffee in hand. Once you pushed his legs off and sat down on the sofa he locked his phone and smiled up at you.
“So what brings you here Timbo?” You spoke, looking at him in curiosity.
“What? Can’t I come visit dear brother’s girlfriend, who happens to be my dear friend?” He said, mock innocence coating his voice. You laughed slightly before continuing.
“I know you Tim, You wouldn’t have come in person if you really didn’t have to.” Feigning hurt for a moment he replied, “How could you? I would come to see you whenever and where ever.” You both paused, “Alright you got me, If Jason heard me speaking like that I’d be a deadman.” You both laughed for a moment before you decided to bring up said male.
“Speaking of, you haven’t heard from him have you? He hasn’t responded to my texts and I haven’t seen him all night”. Tim’s demanor shifted at your question and he responded much too quickly.
“No can’t say I have sorry.” You opened your mouth to question him further but he quickly shifted the subject. You talked with they lad for a good long while, catching up with him. It’d been a while since you’d actually seen him in erson and it was nice to actually get to seem him and talk face to face. After a few hours and multiple teas and coffees later Tim finally got to his original intention. He was here to ask if you wanted to come back to the manor and join the others for a casual Valentine’s get together. they were having at the house. You asked f Jason would be there and he awkwardly responded with an ‘I don’t really know’.You weren’t too keen but you agreed to come anyway, seeing as you would’ve ended up angry and depressed at the apartment alone. Might aswell enjoy the rest of the day with your favourite vigilanties.
You both got up ready to leave as you locked the apartment door and Tim spoke one more time.
“Oh yeah I got dropped off so you’re going to need to drive. meet you at your car!” With that he speed off leaving you to curse at the boy.
17:04
You pulled up the elaborate driveway of the manor. It was already dark and you were in awe at the manor being lit in the darkness. It was a beautiful place. You parked and both exited the car. Tim let the pair of you into the grand home. His awkward state was back as he shuffled ahead. Coughing to get your attention she spoke,”So, um, the others are waiting in the conservatory. I’m going to check on some, um umm, stuff in the kitchen.” and with that he was gone.
“Okay?”. You manouvered to the back of the manor, having been here enough times to know the basic layout. What you were met with was not what you were expecting.
The room was mostly dark, being lit purely by the stars, some candles on a layed table and some fairy lights weaved into the metal work of the consevatory. Your eyes travelled across the delicates lights eventually leading you to a warmly lit figure standing in the middle of the room. Broad shoulders covered with a jet black turtle neck, matching the gorgeous soft waves of hair upon his perfect face. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the heavenly forearms. In his hands, clutched rather tighlty, was a bouquet of your favourite flowers wrapped together in a perfect red bow. It was then that you realised that you had barely been breathing and you gasped, bring your hands to your mouth in shock. You looked him into his eyes, the perfect blues looking back with pure adoration and happiness.
“Happy Valentine’s day (y/n).” as he spoke you could feel your insides basically melt and you couldnt help yourself as you ran towards him and into his arms. He tensed in shock for a moment, dropping the flowers to catch you before laughing. You could feel the deep chuckles reverbing through his chest as you embraced him tightly. He placed you back on the ground and you stared up at him, the height difference returning to it’s usual (something you’d never change because damn that made you feel things), and you stared into his eyes with love, brushing away all of the day’s earlier doubts.
“I hate you so much” you said, smiling through it. He smiled in return, bright and happy.
“Yeah, I love you too.”
“I was beginning to think you’d gone missing, or beginning to get bored of me” You meant it as a joke even if the thoughts occured but he frowned slightly.
“Bored of you? (y/n) I could never get bored of you. I love you more than I can put into words.” You smiled even more than you were before with his words, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You pulled him down to your level, hands locked behind his head and shared the most passionate kiss of your life. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. The pair of you only parted at the intrusion of the voice of a much younger brother.
“Gross” came the voice of Damian Wayne. The two of you pulled apart, you blushing while Jason simply glared at the boy from over your shoulder. You could feel one of his hands leave you most likely flipping Damian off before returning to your body.
When you thought your embrassement was over you heard the hushed voices of the others.  
“Damian to get back, you’re blowing our cover!” Dick whisper shouted.
“Hey, ow, your stepping on my feet” Steph complained.
You buried your face into Jason’s chest, red with embrassment.
What startled the you the most was the voice of Bruce, ushering them all away and closing the wooden doors of the room. You finally looked back up at him, but he was frozen staring at the door with a flushed face (for Bruce had sent him a thumbs up with a smirk and a wink). Something you rarely saw, but he snapped out of it as soon as he noticed your stare.
“So, shall we get the evening started?” He spoke, that deep and confident voice.
“We sure shall, I want to know what kept you so busy today you couldn’t answer your texts.” He laughed nervously, hand moving to rub the back of his neck.
“Yeah about that, Damian may have taken my phone as I was about to respond.” You raised an eyebrow at this looking at him with skepticism. “Hey don’t look at me like that! He thought I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret,” he then mumbled the rest but due to your close proximity you heard it all, “and i definitly can’t with you”.
You laughed loudly at this, not surprised anymore.
“He’s right, you’re a even worse at lying than Tim”
“Hey, take that back, I’m not nearly as bad as that nerd!”
A pounding was heard on the door followed by Tim yelling’ “Excuse me I am an excellen- hey ah Dad wait!” Tim’s voice faded away as he was being dragged away by Bruce. You continued to laugh, Jason joining in.
And so you begun your evening. It was romantic, perfect and full of love and care. Spending time with Jason was like being in your own personal heaven.
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eternalstereksecretsanta · 7 years ago
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You Can Keep Pushing (I'll Keep Pulling You Back)
@uzercalo | AO3 |  Honestly, I battled with writers block for this one, I’ve had a tough few months with this and the ideas were just simmering in my head for too long, but I finally finished and I’m definitely debating adding more after the holidays when I have more time. Merry Christmas love!
In which Kate failed, the sheriff is awesome, Derek loves his family even when they annoy him, and Stiles is unofficially adopted because he’s awesome. Derek has too many feelings and he’s scared of them, but maybe Stiles can knock some sense into him before long.
Derek felt the blanket being placed over his shoulders, but couldn’t find the energy to move. He could hear his mother’s voice, but it was muffled as if he were underwater. He caught little snippets, little words. Charges. Arson. Prison. He felt someone sit down beside him, recognized the scent of his dad’s aftershave, and wiggled closer to him. He buried his face in his dad’s neck in a way he hadn’t done since he was much smaller. …………… “Talia, there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“I’m telling you that it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Someone just tried to kill your whole family, spitting and yelling about how you’re monsters. I think it’s something I need to worry about.”
“She’s obviously insane.” 
“You ran back into the house to save Cora’s art project and came out without a scratch.”
“Just lucky I guess.”
“Bullshit.” Talia froze. John was usually mild mannered, ever the diplomat of the town ensuring everyone was happy and healthy as much as he could. She’d never even heard the man curse before now.
“You know, I’m not quite so blind as I pretend. I’ve noticed that there’s something different about your family.”
“And what do you plan to do about it?” she asked, her voice cool. 
“I plan to find out what’s going on. Someone just launched an attack on you. I see that as an attack to the town and it’s my job to keep the town safe. So either you talk to me and tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to figure it out for myself.” She considered that. He had a point. He’d already proven his trustworthiness to the people of Beacon Hills over and over, and he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. It would be good to have someone in the department who knew what was going on. He was a good man; his heart was steady. 
“Werewolves.” Quick and painless had always been her preferred course of action. 
“What?”
“We’re werewolves,” she said, “not all of us, obviously.”
“Oh, obviously.”
“I’m serious, John. I’m trusting you with our family secret. That’s why Argent tried to kill us. She’s a hunter.”
“A hunter.”
“Except hunters are supposed to follow a code. They’re supposed to only hunt those who hunt others.”
“I think I’m going to need a very strong drink for this. And I think you’re going to have to start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
“I happen to have time.”
……………
Derek’s dad had to leave. Derek’s little siblings had to go to bed and they needed a hotel room for the night. His mom was still here though, so he couldn’t leave. A much smaller body that didn’t smell like wolf sat down next to him. 
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Derek didn’t move.
“He only closes the door when it’s really bad,” the boy continued, his voice equal parts awed and cautious.
“Why aren’t you going with the rest of your family?” Derek wished he’d shut up. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” No, he wasn’t. 
“That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us.” Damn it. The kid launched into a rambling description about how maple syrup was made and how cats were domesticated and a million other things that Derek wasn’t listening to. He talked fast too, so Derek had a hard time keeping up with one topic and then he was leaping to another. It was kind of soothing though, not having to respond. The boy moved closer, probably without realizing it. He was human, and seemed to be a little on the too thin side of a growth spurt. He was warm though, feeling small and fragile to Derek. 
Derek barely noticed when silence fell on them. He wasn’t sure how long it had been quiet, but he couldn’t help wondering if the kid had run out of things to say. He looked over and found him to be asleep. His cheek was resting on Derek’s shoulder, his lips parted ever so slightly. He looked away again when he heard the sheriff’s door open, watching as his mother and the sheriff stepped out. Talia brushed her fingers through his hair comfortingly while the sheriff sighed and gave the kid a fond look. 
“Sorry my son fell asleep on you,” he said, giving Derek a little grin. “He does that sometimes.” He reached down and squeezed the boy’s shoulder, rousing him just enough to help him move to the couch inside of his office. 
“Some on, let’s go catch up with the others,” his mom said. He went with her, letting her hold him close as they walked. 
……………
“Derek!”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Derek should have let him go to voicemail.
“I know you though, so I know you’re going to ask me for something.”
“Well geez, ask a guy for a piggyback a few times and suddenly it’s all ‘the answer is always no!’” The answer was always no. But he always gave in anyway.
“Stiles.”
“You don’t know I was going to ask for something.” He did know he was going to ask for something.
“Yes I do.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Really?” There was a pause.
“Okay, maybe I was going to ask for something.”
“No.”
“Oh come on! I just need a ride! My Jeep is in the shop!”
“Again? You realize that you need more than duct tape to hold it together right?” 
“Shut up.”
“I wish you’d let me help. Then I wouldn’t have to give you rides anymore.”
“Please, you love my company.” He did. 
“Look, it’s just to that new restaurant opening up tomorrow.”
“The pizza place?”
“Yeah, that one. I wanted to go.”
“Okay, we’ll go.” 
“Wait, what?”
“We’ll go. I’ll take you. But you’re buying.” Derek was such a sucker. He couldn’t say no to Stiles and it was going to blow up in his face someday. 
“Awesome! Just pick me up whenever you wanna go!” 
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Thanks Derek! You’re the best!”
……………
“You have pizza sauce on your cheek.” Stiles looked up, wiping his napkin over his cheek and lifting an eyebrow. 
“Did I get it?” Derek rolled his eyes, reaching out and wiping his own napkin on Stiles’ cheek to get the sauce. 
“There,” he said, chuckling. Stiles blushed, ducking his head down. Derek felt the tips of his ears turning bright red and looked to his own plate as if it would hide him. Stiles took a moment to pull himself together, licking his lips. 
“So, have you picked a college yet?” he asked. Derek had taken enough classes to defer for a semester, which Stiles was grateful for. He would miss him when he was actually gone. He wouldn’t stop going to the Hale house, of course. He enjoyed spending time with all the Hales and Talia elected him as head babysitter for the little ones. But Derek was usually there too, and he was good company. He didn’t complain about Stiles’ commentary when they watched movies and they talked about books because Derek was a nerd and Derek made the best chocolate chip cookies every time Stiles came over to help babysit. 
“Not yet,” Derek sighed, shaking his head. “I narrowed the list down though. I’m debating Mendocino, Colombia, and Shasta. They’re not too far away if I need to come home.” The thought of being away from his pack still stressed him out. He wanted to stay relatively close just in case he missed everyone too much. Being away from Stiles would stress him out too, but he knew the boy would probably call him and text him all the time, just like he did now. 
“That’s good,” Stiles said. “And you’ll be home every holiday?”
“Of course,” he laughed. He would be home whenever possible. Stiles nodded.  
“That’s good, because my dad usually works holidays and Scott is going to be visiting family over spring break, and my dad will be working a lot of extra shifts to keep hooligan mischief down to a minimum. So I was planning on spending my days with your family,” he told Derek. 
“You like being in a crowded house where there’s so many people talking over each other that you can’t even hear yourself think?” Derek teased. 
“I like being surrounded by people who care about me, regardless of how loud they are,” Stiles said, chuckling softly. Derek couldn’t argue with that.
“Well, then you’ll be pleased to know that I am, in fact, going to be home.”
“What, no spring break parties for you?” Stiles asked, his eyes glinting mischievously. 
“I have no desire to run around going to overcrowded places jam packed with people who are drunk and smell like sweat and booze.”
“Well when you put it like that.” Derek snorted. “Oh stop that. You know I wouldn’t be going to any parties either.” 
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, yeah. Stop being so smug or I’m going to steal your room while you’re gone.”
……………
“I think I figured it out.”
“I’m going to regret this. What did you figure out?”
“Why I’m single.”
“Is it because your ideal date is someone buying you curly fries?”
“Shut up. It’s because the person most perfect in the world for me is unobtainable.”
“What?”
“Yeah. It makes so much sense. It’s like I’m meant to be with this person and the universe is making me wait to be with them because when we get together it’s going to be absolutely amazing. It’s gonna be perfect. So it’s gotta build up to that, right? So that it’ll be ten times better than just meeting someone amazing.”
“You’re insane.”
“Insanely right.” Derek just laughed and shook his head, reaching over to ruffle Stiles’ hair just because he knew it would irk him. He’d finally grown it out past the buzz cut and figured out how to style it. True to expectations, Stiles squawked indignantly and batted Derek’s hand away. 
“I’m going to tell your mom that you’re being mean to me.”
“Stiles, I’m twenty-one.”
“Not for another week you’re not. And that doesn’t mean she won’t give me your dessert.”
“You’re a few months from being a legal adult.”
“Still a child in the eyes of the law,” Stiles teased, draping himself over Derek’s back. Derek continued with his book, hiding his smile.
“I’m just a fragile little human in need of protection.” Derek snorted. 
“You need to be protected from yourself. You’re more at risk of knocking yourself out by running into a door than anything else.”
“Wow, rude.”
“The truth hurts.”
“Your face hurts.”
“What?”
“And it’s killing me.”
“Again, what?”
“I don’t know,” Stiles laughed. He leaned his cheek against Derek’s shoulder, clearly content to stay that way. Derek Didn’t mind. He lost track of time as he read, only looking up at the clock when he heard Stiles start snoring. He was still sprawled on top of Derek, his arms draped around Derek’s neck, his face now tucked into the crook of Derek’s neck. He was a warm weight on him, soft and smelling of cinnamon and sweetness while he slept. The usual bitter twinge of anxiousness in his scent was gone. He still had the slight trace of Adderall, but it was muted, soon to be gone as it was time for another dose. Derek knew he hadn’t been resting well, with midterms and college applications looming over him. He didn’t mind letting Stiles rest on him. 
“You should tell him.” Derek was snapped out of his thoughts to find Laura leaning against the doorframe. 
“Tell him what? That his bed is elsewhere?”
“That you love him, dumbass. That he’s your mate,” Laura huffed, rolling her eyes. Derek glared.
“He’s going to find out eventually,” she added.
“I’m not dragging him into our world.”
“Der, he’s already in it. He just doesn’t know it. That’s ten times more dangerous for him. His dad already knows. It’s just a matter of time before he figures it out.”
“He’s going to hate us. He’s going to hate me for lying to him,” Derek insisted.
“He’s far too attached to hate us. Besides, do you really think he’s that shallow?”
No, of course not. But ten years of lies isn’t just a mistake.”
“Five. And you’re being stupid.”
“I’m being reasonable.”
“Dumb.”
“Realistic.”
“Asinine.”
“Safe.”
“He loves you and you’re never going to put him out of his misery, are you?”
“He doesn’t love me,” he scoffed. She rolled her eyes.
“He does. He’s sleeping on you. He loans you movies and then stays up to watch them with you. He shared his damn curly fries with you. If that’s not a declaration of love, I don’t know what is.”
“Sharing curly fries is love?” 
“From him it is. He nearly took off Scott’s hand when he tried to take some. My point though, is that he loves you. He loves you and he’s your mate and everyone can see it.”
“He’s underage.”
“Just for a few more months. You should still tell him how you feel though.”
“I don’t want to lose him. Telling him could chase him off or it could make the truth that much more damaging.”
“You’re hopeless little bro. Just think about it, okay?” she sighed, patting his head before she left. Left alone with his thoughts, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to tell Stiles everything. But he couldn’t, not yet. 
…………… The first time Stiles came home from college, he smelled like other people. And not like he was just hanging out with other people, but like those people were all over him. Derek didn’t like it. It made him not smell right. He had, maybe somewhat childishly, run off into the woods to avoid having to deal with it. His mom had given him a pointed look upon his return, but he’d ignored it for the most part. If Stiles wanted to have…relations…with other people, then he could. It wasn’t like Derek had told him about his feelings after all. 
“Are you still sulking or are you done?” Derek startled, only just barely holding back his shift as he spun around. Stiles was there, sprawled over his bed, his hair still damp as he read one of Derek’s books. He was wearing Derek’s clothes too. “Your sister said I smelled, so I borrowed some of your stuff. That’s okay, right?” Derek held back a whine, nodding. 
“Yeah, that was okay.” 
“So, you done? Or should I just go home and come back tomorrow?” Stiles asked, giving him an unimpressed look. Derek sighed. 
“Why do you care?” he huffed, dropping into the chair by his desk, not looking at Stiles.
“I care because I was excited to come home and see you and as soon as I get here, you bolt. I care because I had plans for us and now we can’t do them because you were being an overly dramatic asshole. I care because I freaking missed you,” Stiles said, his scent turning sour with anger. Derek had never felt more ashamed of himself. Of course Stiles had missed him, they were friends. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was…I was being stupid.”
“Yeah, you were.” Before he could respond, there was suddenly a mess of long limbs and a frantic heartbeat on him, hugging him tightly. Hugging him back was just natural, instinctive, and he held on tight. 
“I missed you too.”
……………
“You might want to make sure you’re more careful driving now.” Derek looked up at Laura and lifted an eyebrow. “John just hired a new deputy.”
“So the new deputy wants to give lots of tickets to impress the boss?”
“No, the new deputy is Stiles.” Derek spat out the tea he’d been sipping, narrowly avoiding spraying his book. Laura, ever the supportive big sister, nearly tripped because she was laughing so hard. 
Rude.
……………
“You know, you could just stay in your room.” Stiles sighed, dropping the last box of his things on the couch Lydia had donated to his new apartment.
“Dad, I am a fully functioning adult –”
“Twenty-two.”
“– with a job –”
“Working for me.”
“– so I can live on my own –”
“You could use a roommate.”
“– because I worked hard to get my degree and be independent!” Stiles rushed out. His dad just looked amused. 
“You did work hard, but I would feel better if you weren’t alone.”
“Dad,” Stiles sighed, “I’ll be fine. It’s Beacon Hills.”
“Just try not to catch anything on fire,” John said, giving him a grin that was far too mischievous for Stiles’ liking.
“Well, obviously, but why do you say that?”
“Didn’t you hear? Derek and Cora joined the local fire department. You’d never hear the end of it if they had to come rescue you.” Stiles grudgingly admitted that he had a point, but not to his face.
……………
In all fairness, Derek had no right to be mad. He had no right to be all up in Stiles’ face about how dangerous it was being here. Stiles coughed. 
“You could have died! It’s not your job to go into burning buildings!”
“You weren’t here,” Stiles huffed, coughing again. “There was a kid inside. I wasn’t about to just stand by and do nothing.” His lungs felt heavy with smoke, his skin felt itchy with ash, he could feel the sweat dripping from his brow leaving tracks as it fell. Derek sighed, grabbing the oxygen mask hanging beside him. The paramedic left him sitting there to go help other people and no one blinked at Derek standing with him. 
“Put this back on, idiot.”
“I wasn’t trying to put myself in danger, I was just trying to save that kid.”
“You did,” Derek said. “There is no try.”
“Don’t quote Star Wars at me, I’m trying to be mad at you.” Derek made a displeased noise and firmly placed the mask on his face. 
“Breathe. Idiot.” Cora came up and ruffled Stiles’ hair. 
“Hey, that boy and his family want to thank you. I told them to call the sheriff’s department tomorrow,” she said. She sat next to him, throwing her arm over his shoulders. “Don’t antagonize Derek, he’s just worried about you getting hurt.” 
Derek glared at her. Stiles opened his mouth and pulled the mask off just a little, but quickly replaced it as Derek turned his glare on him. 
They could talk later.
……………
Stiles had a week off to recover, filled with baked goods baskets and casserole dishes, providing enough food that he didn’t need to go to the grocery store for the whole week. He was glad to stay home, mostly because he didn’t think he could take any more people shaking his hand and thanking him for what he did. He hadn’t done anything special, but everyone was acting like he had. 
His first day back at work was a day of desk duty. He didn’t mind so much; he had enough filing to last him another week. As soon as he sat down however, a paper bag was dropped in front of him. He looked up to see Derek and relaxed.  
“Please tell me this is for my dashing good looks and charming wit.”
“No dice,” Derek snorted. “It’s from mom. She said you’re probably tired of hearing the usual spiel people give when we do our jobs, so she said this is just an ‘I love you and I’m proud of you’ breakfast.”
“I think I’ve gained ten pounds from all the food I’ve gotten this past week,” he groaned. 
“Well at least you have your pretty face.” Stiles turned his attention to the bag, opening it to find one of Andrew Hale’s Famous Cinnamon Buns – capitals included. 
“I love your dad. Tell him I love him. I’m happy to be adopted.”
“I think you’re a little old for that,” Derek laughed. “Besides, you’re already family.”
“I would ask if you’re serious, but your mom signs my birthday cards with ‘love Mama and Papa’.” It was a good touch, with slightly different names than what he called his parents so that they weren’t replacing them. 
“I should go, I was just dropping that off for you,” Derek said, giving Stiles a soft little smile. “Try not to run into any more burning buildings while I’m gone.”
“I’ll definitely try,” Stiles laughed, waving as Derek walked away. He couldn’t help his gaze dropping a little, thinking about how great Derek looked in his uniform. 
……………
Derek wasn’t sure how it happened. He was standing beside Laura, who was standing beside their parents. There were people in front of them, growling and snarling and flashing their eyes and teeth. Derek’s own eyes were flashing, but he held back the rest of his shift because his mother had raised him better than that. There was a thunderstorm coming, the acrid tang of electricity just on the horizon. His mother gave him a look, conveying that there were enough people here, he’d be better use back home keeping the little ones safe and assured. Without even a word spoken, he turned back, obeying the silent order he was issued. 
He had just gotten to the house when the Jeep pulled up, thunder rumbling overhead, promising the coming storm. Stiles stumbled out, looking worried. Derek couldn’t hear anyone, but he knew they were close enough that it wasn’t safe for Stiles to be here. 
“You need to leave.”
“Derek, stop it. Don’t push me away,” Stiles said, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Derek’s wrist, “you keep going all hot and cold on me. One minute we’re fine, the next you’re being all grumpy and cold again.” Because he kept remembering that it wasn’t safe, he couldn’t have Stiles because then he’d be in danger all the time. 
“Just leave!” Derek growled, turning and shoving Stiles back towards his car. He used too much strength though, and Stiles – human, frail, breakable – went tumbling down. Derek wanted to scoop him back up, wanted to apologize and hold him close, but he couldn’t. The other pack were still close, and he had to keep Stiles as far from them as possible. Stiles needed to leave. Stiles wasn’t hurt though. He jumped back up, his eyes blazing with anger. 
“I thought we were past that whole brute shit,” Stiles snapped. All Derek could think about was Stiles burning alive, Kate, or someone like her, finishing the job she’d started back when she was sixteen. 
“What do you want?” 
“I want you to talk to me! Stop being dumb and trust me!”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Get out!” Derek roared, feeling his eyes flash, his teeth elongating as he slipped into his beta shift. It was too much, the stress of the other pack, the danger to his family, the danger to Stiles, the fear of history repeating itself, and he lost control for just a moment. He heard Stiles’ heartbeat stutter, saw his eyes go wide, smelled his fear. He was in the car before Derek could say anything, throwing the shift into reverse and throwing gravel as he peeled out. Derek couldn’t help feeling guilt settle in his stomach like a rock.
……………
“So, what did you say to Stiles?” Derek froze. 
“So that’s why he’s been smelling all sad and guilty,” Cora hummed, frowning at him. Laura nodded. 
“You said something, irritated the hell out of him, and now he’s mad at you and won’t talk to you and smells just as sad as you do.”
“I don’t know why he’s mad, it’s not like we were ever anything more than friends,” Derek snapped. Laura scoffed. 
“He loves you!” She growled, her eyes flashing at him. “You’re an idiot!”
“He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know anything,” Derek said, his voice even and hollow as he stood up and walked calmly, carefully to his room and locked the door behind him. Stiles would get over it eventually. 
……………
Derek was slammed into a tree before he even got a chance to do anything more than growl. It’s a little unfair, that the alpha is picking him to fight, instead of his mother who’s currently fighting two of the betas and winning. He knows he’s outmatched, but he’s trying his best. 
His best is apparently getting thrown into a tree though, so he’s not sure it’s doing much good. 
They’re winning, regardless of how Derek is doing. His mother is running towards him, having beaten off the two betas. Laura is about to take down the beta she’s fighting. Cora is catching her breath and trying to heal her broken ribs faster. Peter has just gained the upper hand on his opponent. Even the sheriff has held his own and is applying pressure to the gash on his head as he helps Derek’s dad off to the side to set his broken leg. 
But the alpha has her claws on his neck now and he only wishes that he’d gotten a chance to apologize to Stiles, to tell him that he loves him. Because he does, he loves his mate. And Stiles is his mate, even if he never got the chance to tell him that. 
But suddenly, almost as suddenly as the fight started, the alpha is down and screaming briefly before her voice cuts off and her body stills. And standing there, holding the literal smoking gun, is Stiles. 
The heavens open up as the remaining pack members flee for their lives, as if the sky was attempting to wash away the spilled blood. 
……………
It’s cliché. It’s as cliché as it gets. And because it’s his life, he really should have seen this coming. He shouldn’t even be surprised. It’s like a scene straight out of a rom-com. Since they’re both dudes, would that make it a dick-flick? He’s getting off track. It’s raining. They haven’t spoken since Derek yelled at him. He’s done being mad because he mostly just misses Derek and wants to know once and for all if there’s something there for them, if Derek thinks of him the way he thinks of Derek. 
He’s standing next to his Jeep, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Derek. He hasn’t said a word yet, but Stiles just saved his ass and Derek owes him at least an explanation as to why he didn’t tell Stiles about any of this. Of course, Stiles already knew, because he’s not an idiot and the Hales really aren’t that subtle. He’s still mad at Derek, but he loves him, so he doesn’t want to just leave.
It’s complicated.  
He’s soaking wet, they both are, and his hair is flopping onto his forehead. He’s shivering and regretting most of his life choices as his clothes stick to him and every move he makes reminds him that he’s chafing and feels so gross right now. He’s probably going to get sick because Derek isn’t saying anything and he’s not going to get in the car and Stiles isn’t about to leave him out here alone. 
“You shouldn’t have been here!” Derek yells. Not the best way to start this conversation, but at least he’s being direct. 
“Where else was I going to be!” he yelled back. 
“You could have died!” Derek snarled. 
“I didn’t!”
“You shouldn’t even know about this!”
“But I do! You’re my family! My dad was here! I wasn’t going to just sit at my desk and wait for someone to die!” 
“You never thing about anything! You just do things and you don’t care what happens to you! But I care! And I’m not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself because you were too dumb to know when to back off!” 
“I’m not dumb!” 
“That’s what you took from all that?” Derek asked, incredulous. Stiles would argue, had his mouth open and defense on his tongue, but suddenly Derek was right there, pressing him back into the jeep, kissing him furiously. His mouth was hot against Stiles’, his hands blazing where they cupped his cheeks. His body was a long line of warmth holding him in place, much gentler than his words were. The Jeep was cold against Stiles’ back, making him press forward into Derek more. 
Damn werewolf body temperatures. 
“I could have lost you.” Derek’s words were almost lost in the sound of the pounding rain. His forehead was leaning against Stiles’ and Stiles kept his eyes closed just in case he was dreaming. The steady unsteadiness of his heartbeat resounded in his ears. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“With you diving headfirst into danger, I will.”
“I trust you to have my back, like you always have, you big furball,” Stiles sighed. 
“How did you figure it out?”
“You guys are horrible at keeping secrets and I’m an awesome detective. And you throwing a tantrum just confirmed it.”
“I smelled your fear.”
“Because I could tell you were scared. And if you were scared enough to yell at me like that…I figured it was best to get the hell out of dodge.”
“So you weren’t…scared of me?”
“Derek, I saw you tear up over baby bunnies. I could never be scared of you.”
“Shut up.” Stiles does, but only because he gets more kisses. 
……………
In the end, it’s worth it. All the fights and hurt and loneliness is worth it. He ends up curled up with Derek in front of the fireplace, wearing Derek’s clothes and sipping Andrew Hale’s Famous Hot Chocolate – again, the capitals are necessary – from Derek’s favorite mug. Derek is scent marking him and growling at anyone who comes too close, while Talia laughs and says he’ll stop once his mate smells enough like him. Stiles pretends hearing that he’s Derek’s mate doesn’t make him feel even warmer inside. 
……………
By Christmas they’re building a house in the woods, far enough away from the Hale house that they’re on their own but close enough to be with their family. Derek had liked the idea as soon as he’d first pitched it and his eyes lit up as Stiles talked about making sure there was a nursery and plenty of bedrooms for future little ones. Stiles is pretty sure everything is going to be okay now. As he sits with his pack, his family, his everything, leaning into Derek’s side as Cora sprawls across their laps and Laura lays on top of them. He thinks that this is where he’s meant to be, and he never should have doubted that. 
He proposes as they all eat Christmas breakfast, after wishing Derek a happy birthday of course, and Derek carefully finishes his piece of bacon, leaving Stiles to sweat and worry about what if Derek wanted to propose, what if he just ruined Derek’s proposal and now he’s mad. Only, Derek isn’t mad. He tackles Stiles to the ground and buries his face in his neck as he whispers ‘yes’ to him. 
Stiles’ stocking has a ring in it and Derek just shrugs and comments that Stiles always had a habit of beating Derek to the punch. 
All in all, it’s the best Christmas Stiles has ever had.
(Except for the year after that where a little baby is gifted to them from the local fairies as a wedding gift, but that’s a story for another time.)
38 notes · View notes
seventitas-blog · 7 years ago
Text
This Time We’ll Take It Slow
Word Count : 5,629
Type: One Shot
Characters: Seungcheol x Jeonghan
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Written by: Tita #2
You have 20 seconds.
You have 20 seconds to think what you’re going to say to him.
Seungcheol has given himself countless 20 seconds for the past few weeks to tell Jeonghan that he wants to break up with him. He has prolonged this confrontation for far too long now that he’s already convinced he’s just going to wait for Jeonghan to do it for him eventually. But tonight, as the two of them ate silently facing each other, Seungcheol felt an unusual courage. It could have been brought on by the fact that the other members were away and it was just the two of them by the Han River. They’ve been here on secret dates many times, and Seungcheol couldn’t hide his disappointment that this was going to be their last.
Jeonghan finally looked up from his cup of noodles and noticed his boyfriend’s sullen expression.
“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asked haphazardly.
Seungcheol tried to force a smile, nervously fidgeting his chopsticks and looking away. Jeonghan knew better, though.
He put his cup noodles down and combed his now-short hair with his slender fingers. He heaved an exasperated sigh. He was never a confrontational person himself but he’s always been open to Seungcheol about his feelings. It irked him that for the past 7 months they’ve been secretly seeing each other, Seungcheol couldn’t just communicate comfortably with him when all he wants is for this taboo relationship to work. He hated it when Seungcheol makes it obvious that he has a problem.
“Be honest, for once.” Jeonghan blurted.
They’ve had many petty fights before like any other couple and Jeonghan has won every single one. It didn’t bother Seungcheol that his other half was always right - but this time he couldn’t help but be hurt by those very words. Seungcheol put down his chopsticks calmly. It’s about 5 degrees tonight, but there was heat somewhere in this conversation.
“You know I’ve always been honest about my feelings to you.” Seungcheol spoke. He has always been the more open one - the clingy one. He was a Leo after all - showy, proud, and affectionate. He was always craving for attention and affection, and he hated it. As a maknae of his family, he grew up being tended to and being showered with love but now that he’s with someone like level-headed Jeonghan, he’s had to adjust.
“You always dodge when I try to confront you. This is why we fight all the time. Just tell me. Don’t you trust me?” Jeonghan nagged.
Jeonghan was the more logical and rational one. His persona may seem like he’s a guy with a lot of jokes and tricks up his sleeve but in relationships he is serious and careful. That doesn’t mean he was never loving towards Seungcheol, though. He’s extremely sweet and caring when it’s just the two of them. In fact, it was Jeonghan who initiated the first move to officiate their love physically in their hotel room in Japan last year. But all of this are swept under the rug by Seungcheol who craves public display of affection.
Don’t you trust me?
The words resonated in Seungcheol’s head for a few moments. He wanted to mull over the question for awhile, but seeing Jeonghan’s irate face in front of him, he didn’t really have much of a choice but to respond.
“Do you really love me?” Seungcheol tossed back a question in a respectful, genuine manner.
Jeonghan threw him a look which was a mix of surprise and insult.
“Are we really doing this right now?” Jeonghan threw back another question.
Neither one seemed to be interested in answering properly.
Seungcheol can already tell that Jeonghan’s irritation is exacerbating by the second. It hurt him whenever Jeonghan shows how irritated he is at him - which was almost all the time. Jeonghan had a slight temper to begin with, which he initially found sexy. But now, after so many hurtful words thrown at each other, it’s done nothing but bog down his pride and ego. He can almost see laser beams shooting out of Jeonghan’s eyes now. He knew he was pissed again because he just wanted a nice, quiet ramen date by the river and he had to bring up the “Do you love me” question again.
Seungcheol cracked a charming smile at his boyfriend and picked up his chopsticks.
“Jeonghan-ah. You know I love you. A lot.” he mumbled as he slurped his ramen noodles quickly. “But aren’t you tired of arguing with me? Aren’t you sick of being irritated with me?” he said pointedly at Jeonghan’s own angered face.
Jeonghan’s expression softened slightly. He picked up his cup noodles and resumed eating.
20 seconds. Your 20 seconds is here.
Seungcheol stared at the remaining noodles at the bottom of the styrofoam cup. “So maybe it would be better if we just went back to being friends.” he continued.
Jeonghan stopped chewing. He lifted his head to see if his boyfriend was pulling another lame, wrongly-timed joke on him. He looked severely calm and normal. He put his chopsticks back down again and crossed his arms.
“Is that what you’ve been trying to tell me? You wanted to break up?” he asked, his hair now being blown by a cold gust of wind.
Seungcheol nodded. “I think that would be better for the both of us, don’t you think? I mean, you’re mostly just cold towards me anyway -“
“When was I cold to you?!”
“Jeonghan don’t yell. You know what I’m talking about. I’m always the one chasing after you, clinging to you like a lovesick puppy. I never once felt that you’re proud to be with me.”
“We can’t be out and about Seungcheol you know that! We have to protect each other!”
“I understand that but-“
“No you don’t understand! Look if you want to break up that’s fine with me. I’m tired of your insecurities and your fragile masculinity. I’ve always loved you Seungcheol, you know that. Even when you’re so fucking annoying sometimes. That’s why I don’t want anyone or anything to ruin what we have. But sure, of course, I’m the bad guy here. I’m cold and distant and uncaring, right?”
“Would it really kill you to at least bring me to your home or introduce me to your friends?”
“Why is this such a pressuring obligation?”
“You know how guilty I feel sometimes? When I just try to hold your hand and you snatch it back or when I just want to sit next to you and you leave and it makes me so fucking guilty like I’d done something to disappoint or embarrass you.”
“You know fully well we can’t be found out by anyone. I thought we agreed to this right from the start. You had no problems at the beginning why are you suddenly like this?”
“Because I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of chasing. I’m tired of waiting for you.”
Jeonghan gritted his teeth from the cold. He could feel his eyes start to sting and moisten. This is the first time someone has broken up with him and it was, of all people, his bestfriend. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re tired of me?” he said in an almost whimper, looking away from his first boyfriend.
“I never said that.” Seungcheol said quietly, looking at his now cold noodles.
“Fine. This is what you want? Let’s end it for good.” Jeonghan said in a hurried voice. He was fed up with his childish demands anyway. Seungcheol had these teenage romance ideals in a relationship while Jeonghan just wanted to be in a secure and mature one - something that didn’t need tending and close supervision.
Jeonghan stood up, ready to leave. It was near freezing and he didn’t like the general atmosphere of the evening. All he wanted was a nice date with his boyfriend since they haven’t spent time alone together in a week and this was what he got instead. Seungcheol has stood up as well, his nose and cheeks red from the cold. Jeonghan started walking first but stopped in his tracks to face Seungcheol, who was tailing behind him.
“You know what the problem is with you, Cheol? You’re so needy. You can’t pat yourself on the back or assure yourself like a normal human being. You’re constantly in need of care and you whine when you’re not pampered or given the slightest attention. Guess what? You’re a grown man. You’re not a baby. You’ve used up your maknae card long ago when you moved out of your family home, Cheol. Stop being needy.”
Jeonghan has never had an outburst like this before. He has never been this mad at someone in a long time. Seungcheol started back at him as if Jeonghan had mysteriously turned into someone else - someone he didn’t recognize. For some reason, Jeonghan waited for a counter attack from Seungcheol, who was always good with bickering. But he was only met with wide, hurt eyes. Another stinging gust of wind blew past, but it couldn’t cool down the tension between them now. After what almost seemed like forever, Seungcheol smiled. It wasn’t what Jeonghan was expecting at all. He expected another argument, an insult, hell he expected to be hit but not this.
“You’re right, Jeonghan.” was all he said through that small smile. “You’ve always been right.”
This aggravated Jeonghan even more. He hated being patronized, especially at a time like this. He turned away and marched forward, never looking back to see if Seungcheol ever went after him.
Jeonghan has been lying awake in his bed for hours now. He came back to the dorm alone, after storming off on Seungcheol. He deserved to hear those words, Jeonghan kept telling himself. He needs to grow up, he added. He doesn’t know what was keeping him awake: his flashbacks from their breakup hours ago or the fact that it was 2amand Seungcheol hasn’t returned to the dorm yet. He knew better than to call him, but he was worried where he might end up at this hour. And he tells me I’m uncaring, Jeonghan thought, rolling his eyes.
Eventually, he heard the faint sound of the front door opening. He sighed in relief. Mingyu and Jihoon were both already softly snoring in the room with him. These days, Seungcheol slept on the sofa in the living room with the manager since they played a lot of video games together. Jeonghan is weirded out why he’s anxious if Seungcheol will sleep in the room tonight. He heard his footsteps outside. He can recognize those footsteps anywhere. Slightly hastened, dragging the heel of each foot noisily. Jeonghan could now comfortably close his eyes and sleep in peace knowing that he’s safe back home.
The next morning, everyone was individually shuffling off to the Pledis building. Some had studio work to do, others had business to attend to in the office. For the rest of the members, it was just any other day. But for Jeonghan and Seungcheol, it was the first day of being just friends again. Though neither were particularly awkward with each other, neither were pleased about the new situation either. Some members were already rushing out the door while others took their time getting ready - like Jeonghan, who was always the slowpoke, Minghao who was looking for accessories to go with his outfit, Seokmin who was looking for snacks to bring, Seungkwan who was waiting for Seokmin, and Seungcheol who was nursing a hangover.
“Hyung, how much did you drink last night you look ugly.” Seungkwan frowned at Seungcheol, who looked like a dishevelled homeless man gulping huge amounts of water.
“You should’ve drank with me then I wouldn’t have consumed so much.” Seungcheol joked, wiping the dripping water from his mouth.
“Ey, you know I don’t like beer. Why didn’t you invite Jeonghan hyung?” Seungkwan asked.
Jeonghan, who was quietly eating behind them, perked up his ears.
“Jeonghan didn’t feel like being with me.” Seungcheol answered nonchalantly, as if it was a typical reply.
“As expected, the lazy bastard.” Seungkwan muttered under his breath.
“All of you finish quickly and go. I’m just going to shower. I’ll catch up with you later.” Seungcheol said as an afterthought, dragging his feet to the bathroom. Everyone did as they were told, except Jeonghan who chewed on his bread rather slowly this morning. He didn’t have an appetite. Minghao, Seokmin and Seungkwan were on their way out to the front door bringing parcels of food.
“Hyung, are you coming with us?” Minghao asked Jeonghan as he put on his shoes.
Jeonghan took another bite off his bread. “I’ll go after I finish this stale bread.” he replied lazily.
Back when they were at the beginning of their relationship, this was exactly what he would do in the morning so he and Seungcheol could have the dorm to themselves and have sex in the shower. With 13 members and 3 bathrooms, it was okay to shower together. They used to lock the front door after everyone has gone, run to the bathroom and get hot and heavy. Recently they haven’t been physically together - Jeonghan’s libido easily gets affected by stress and problems whereas Seungcheol’s was always on. It’s something Jeonghan has no control over but feels guilty about. Not that it matters anymore, now. Jeonghan had stayed behind because really had to force himself to eat after he was asked to bulk up by the management. He stared blankly ahead as the sound of Seungcheol taking a bath gave him unwanted flashbacks to their shower sessions. Never in his life did he imagine he would enjoy having sex with another man so much. He’s always thought he was only attracted to women all his life but when he fell in love with Seungcheol he realized there’s so much more to love than attraction.
“When did you start liking men?” he asked Seungcheol once, as they were snugly wrapped together in a blanket on Jeonghan’s bunk, bodies intertwined underneath. This was at the beginning of their relationship and everything felt new, foreign, and exciting.
“I don’t really like men in general, I just…happen to like you. Just you as a person. No other men.” Seungcheol whispered, his fingers delicately playing and twirling strands of Jeonghan’s hair.
“When did that happen exactly?” Jeonghan whispered back, the tip of his nose lightly touching the tip of Seungcheol’s.
“I don’t know, it just kind of grew over the years.”
“Me too.”
“Did it feel weird at first? To like me?” It was Seungcheol’s turn to ask.
Jeonghan nodded with a little bit of aegyo. “Whenever you talked near my face, I always had to repress the urge to kiss you. And I would weird myself out by looking at your ass.”
“So it’s purely sexual?”
Jeonghan frowned, his eyebrows meeting. “Of course not. I guess I started having feelings for you right after we debuted. I used to be so anxious, worried and unconfident with myself. Remember? You helped me overcome those.”
“I did?”
Jeonghan nodded again and pursed his lips. “You didn’t even realize it, did you?”
Seungcheol shook his head. Jeonghan smiled and kissed him, sliding his hand over the back of his head. It was a loving, warm, and wholesome kiss that Jeonghan liked to give when Seungcheol was being cute.
Jeonghan snapped out of his reminiscing trance when Seungcheol called his attention.
“Jeonghan I told you guys to go quickly.” Seungcheol asked sharply, drying his hair with a towel. This Seungcheol was a stark contrast to the Sungcheol in Jeonghan’s morning flashbacks.
“I’m just finishing this stale ass bread then I’m gone.” he replied as he stuffed the remaining bread into his mouth. He got up and put on his baseball cap.
Seungcheol sat on the floor to put on his shoes as Jeonghan stood by.
“Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up.” Seungcheol ordered as he tied his shoelaces without glancing at him once.
Seungcheol always wanted to walk to work with someone every morning - which was usually Jeonghan or Jihoon. He would sometimes even make them wait for him to finish up just so they could walk to the office together. Though the walk is short, they had a morning routine where they would discuss the plans for the entire day and talk about the dirty stuff that went on among Pledis employees while they buy iced coffee to go. This routine was sacred to Jeonghan, who values traditions and dislikes sudden changes.
“If you’re mad about what I said last-“ Jeonghan started but was almost immediately cut off.
“I’m not mad, Jeonghan. And I’d appreciate it if we don’t talk about that anymore. It’s done.” Seungcheol casually stated as he stood up to put on his coat.
“After you.” he added, letting Jeonghan go out the door first.
They walked several feet from each other, which wasn’t something they did even when they were still friends. Seungcheol had put on earphones, nodding his head and muttering lyrics while Jeonghan tried not to feel awkward walking to work with his ex who just broke up with him the previous night. As they approached the office building, Jeonghan went ahead to the cafe where they bought coffee every morning.
“Do you want latte or Americano?” he called out to Seungcheol, though Jeonghan knew Seungcheol would pick Americano as he always told him to get one for him on a daily basis.
“No thanks, I’m good.” he replied curtly and went ahead to the office entrance without him.
Jeonghan could only shake his head.
It started with small things. Like for instance, when Seungcheol would take a nap he would tell Mingyu to wake him up when before, he would always ask Jeonghan. Or when they ate out, he refused to sit on the vacant seat beside Jeonghan and went to the far side of the table instead. Or when their CEO wanted to take a pic of all 13 members with their arms around each other, Seungcheol didn’t put his around Jeonghan. Jeonghan noticed all these but was nonchalant about it. It’s not like it was such a noticeable and drastic change, anyway. He understood that the was dealing with their break-up differently and that in time, he and Seungcheol will eventually go back to how they were before.
But that wasn’t the case. Seungcheol was gradually, slowly, and tactically withdrawing himself away from Jeonghan as much as possible. He avoided being alone with him for more than 5 minutes. He didn’t ask him any more favors, aside from things that are work-related. He now completely ditched that morning routine that Jeonghan held so importantly. Though he would walk with him sometimes, Seungcheol would be meters away from him and not say a single word. During practice, Seungcheol would call out the mistakes of every member except Jeonghan’s. This wasn’t some kind of cold shoulder treatment either - he still talked to Jeonghan like he normally would. The difference is that it seemed to Jeonghan that they went from bestfriends to mere co-workers. Their late-night conversations about their future and goals have now been reduced to afternoon shallow banters. Most and worst of all, he would not touch Jeonghan with a 10-foot pole. They haven’t had any slight contact with each other’s skin in weeks, which was a feat since Seungcheol likes skinship so much with all the members. No more hugs. No more innocent clutching of hands. No more touching of hair. Not even a single high-five.
In the mornings, Seungcheol used to ask Jeonghan to wake him up and ask him to help him look for his clothes. Now, Seungcheol stays in the living room and sleeps in. This was actually a good thing for Jeonghan, as he hated when Seungcheol treated him like he was his mother. But what bugged Jeonghan the most lately was the fact that Seungcheol was still as playful with the members but not with him anymore.
“Jisoo-ah, you want to go out for a drink with me and Bumzu?” Seungcheol asked JIsoo one time.
“You know I hate the taste of alcohol.” JIsoo said, weirded out that he was even invited.
The usual drinking buddies were Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Everyone knew this. They were the only ones who could properly hold their alcohol like champs. Predictably, he’s never asked Jeonghan to go out for drinks again.
One time, Seungcheol came home late, face flushed and clearly under the influence. Jeonghan had stayed up late by chance and chanced upon him in the kitchen. Seungcheol was chugging down an entire pitcher of water by the fridge. Jeonghan was supposed to get a glass of water but that was out the window now. He crossed his arms at the intoxicated Seungcheol.
“Had fun?” He asked his ex.
Seungcheol took his time downing water before finally looking at Jeonghan. Jeonghan could see Seungcheol’s stubble subtly growing on his chin, water dripping carelessly off it.
“Yep.” was all Seungcheol said, before proceeding to the living room.
Jeonghan silently watched him take his shirt off in the dark, tossing it on the living room floor. He shook his head at Seungcheol’s untidy habit that never seemed to change. Even from the kitchen, he could see Seungcheol’s mole at the back of his neck. It was his favorite part of Seungcheol’s anatomy. He used to sneak up on him and kiss it. Seungcheol was extremely ticklish in the neck area and he would always recoil and double over whenever Jeonghan did it. Whenever they would spoon in bed, he always wanted Seungcheol to be the little spoon just so he could put his lips on that mole and nuzzle on it.
Seungcheol could feel Jeonghan’s gaze even in the dark. He wished for him to just go back to his room before he’d do something stupid. He was drunk, lonely, and vulnerable and Jeonghan just standing there staring at him made him want to do things he’d regret in the morning. Seungcheol plopped down on the couch, closing his eyes, shutting out the world.
Jeonghan walked past him, but stopped midway. “It could get cold later. Don’t you want to sleep in the room?” It was an innocent and genuine concern.
Seungcheol opened his eyes and turned to Jeonghan’s silhouette in the dark.
“I’m good. Goodnight.” he mumbled, before closing his eyes again.
Jeonghan took a while before responding. Up until that moment, Jeonghan has always been the one initiating the goodnight. Seungcheol was the chatty one, always wanting the conversation to go on until sunrise, while Jeonghan’s energy easily waned out. He would always be the one to end the conversation first and go to sleep. Even in their Kakaotalk chats, it was always Jeonghan who said goodnight first.
Where should we go tomorrow after practice? I’ve been craving bingsu.
Seungcheol-ah I’m tired. Let’s sleep. Goodnight.
“Goodnight.” Jeonghan said back in a low voice, even though Seungcheol was already snoring in the sofa.
Though Jeonghan wanted to find this sudden change childish and petty, he knew Seungcheol wasn’t doing anything wrong. He never ostracized Jeonghan, or made him feel out of place, or ignored him. He still acknowledged him, still treated him with respect, and still acted like a friend despite the aloofness. Technically, Seungcheol wasn’t being immature at all. As much as Jeonghan wanted to admit it, Seungcheol just wanted to drift apart. Though he’s been holding it in and denying it, Jeonghan found himself feeling hurt and rejected. Thoughts like maybe Seungcheol really didn’t care about him anymore or hated him now popped up from time to time in his head. But the thing that’s hurting Jeonghan the most is that he’s losing the best friend he’s ever had. He hasn’t felt this lonely since when he first came to Pledis. And back then he had Seungcheol and JIsoo. He decided to talk to Seungcheol once and for all because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to continue living like this in the next few years.
“Seungcheol.” he approached Seungcheol, who was busy playing a video game shirtless in the living room.
It was past midnight and the rest of the members are tucked away in their beds.
“What?” Seungcheol said absentmindedly.
“Let’s go out. I want to talk to you.”
Seungcheol tensely shifted his position on the sofa, not taking his eyes off the game. “About what?”
“Something important.”
“Jeonghan if you don’t-“
Before Seungcheol could finish his retort, Jeonghan grabbed him by the hand - their first physical contact in over a month.
“Ya!” Seungcheol exclaimed, reacting as if he burnt his hand.
“Please.” Jeonghan looked and sounded dead serious. There was no aegyo in his voice but it was a tone that always persuaded Seungcheol.
Seungcheol eyed him doubtfully for a few seconds before pausing his game and putting on a shirt.
They stood facing opposite each other in an empty hallway downstairs. The flourescent lights were dim but the silence assured them of privacy. Seungcheol’s gaze could mean two things to Jeonghan: one, he was undressing him with his eyes or two, he was mentally stabbing him for dragging him away from his game. Seungcheol tried not to look anxious - he did his best not to show how nervous he was what this talk was going to be about.
It’s a good thing Jeonghan didn’t waste time.
“Why are you doing this?” Jeonghan started strong.
“Huh?”
“Do you know how much it’s hurting me? By avoiding me like I have some kind of disease? When you broke up with me did you just expect us to be just colleagues and treat each other like we barely know each other?”
“What? Wait.” Seungcheol interjected, raising his hand. “Slow down. One question at a time.”
“Do you hate me that much? Just tell me straight up. Don’t go distancing yourself away from me-“
“Jeonghan, shut up for a second. I don’t hate you.” Seungcheol cut him off while walking towards him.
“Then WHY!? Didn’t you say we’ll be friends again?”
“We ARE friends!”
“No we’re not and don’t act like nothing has changed between us. You’re my best friend. You and Jisoo are the only ones I can talk to about my problems and I can’t talk to him about this. Please just tell me why.”
Seungcheol let out a heavy breath, trying to gather all the answers to Jeonghan’s sudden hard-hitting questions.
“Jeonghan. Weren’t you the one that complained that I constantly needed you? Weren’t you the one that implied that I’m too clingy and needed attention and wanted your affection too much? That I whine to you too much? Now you’re mad at me that I’m trying to change all that? I don’t get you at all. Please enlighten me because I’m so confused right now. What is it that you want me to do?”
Jeonghan started tearing up, his cheeks slowly showing a hint of red. Glistening tears streamed down like falling stars on his celestial face. Seungcheol hated it when Jeonghan cried. The man rarely shed tears. The last time Jeonghan cried in front of him was when he pranked him that he was quitting the group. He never cries over sad movies or touching moments but he was sensitive when it came to his friends.
Seungcheol put both his hands on Jeonghan’s face, wiping his tears away with his thumbs.
“Stop crying. Stop.” Seungcheol said, his voice now a little bit softer than before.
Jeonghan tried his best to suppress further tears, but they just kept coming. He missed Seungcheol. He missed his best friend. It felt like years since he was able to stand this close to him, to touch him, to smell him.
“I’ve been hurt too, Jeonghan. More than you probably know. And the way I react to pain is the same when I touch a hot surface. I retract. With you, I can’t completely detach from, you know. You’re still my best friend.” Seungcheol went back to leaning against the wall across Jeonghan.
“Best friend. Doesn’t feel like it.” Jeonghan uttered under his breath.
“Hey. I’m trying my best to get over you. It’s difficult maintaining a friendship with someone you’re still in love with.”
Jeonghan wiped his face and regained his composure. He sniffled and put his hands in his sweater pockets, as if the answers to their predicament were in there. He looked at Seungcheol, who was just staring back at him.
“I want us to get back together but it’s going to be a really difficult process.” Jeonghan said after a long exhale.
“It really will be.”
Jeonghan sighed again and closed his eyes, hoping that an easy answer will magically appear. Seungcheol searched for it as well, staring at the floor.
“Do you still want to be with me?” Seungcheol asked after a long period of silence.
“Of course I do, you dumbass.”
Seungcheol nodded. “We’ll have to work a few things out then.”
“A lot of things.” Jeonghan agreed.
“For now…” Seungcheol’s voice trailed off, unsure how he should complete his own thought.
But Jeonghan was courteous enough to finish it for him. “For now, kiss me.” Jeonghan said, in an almost demanding tone.
Seungcheol turned his head and looked at both his sides, as if cautious.
“There are CCTV cameras here, you know.” he said.
“I know.” Jeonghan replied impatiently.
Seungcheol carefully walked towards him, hands still in his pockets, mirroring Jeonghan’s posture.
“If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop.” Seungcheol said in a hushed tone, already eyeing Jeonghan’s lips.
Jeonghan looked at him longingly with his deep-set eyes, his lips already parting and quivering. Seungcheol’s face was now only inches away from his and there was a feeling of electricity and urgency in the space between them.
“Then don’t.” Jeonghan was whispering now.
Seungcheol buried his face into Jeonghan’s, almost knocking the wind out of the latter. Their teeth clinked against each other violently, both wanting to masticate the other in one amorous liplock. Jeonghan had his back against the wall and tried all his might not to lift himself up on Seungcheol and wrap his legs around his waist. Seungcheol’s hands were locked around Jeonghan’s thick neck while Jeonghan’s were fiercely clutching Seungcheol’s shirt.
It took all of their strength to pull away from each other’s mouths. Panting and hyperventilating from the adrenalin rush and their titillating kiss, Jeonghan lifted Seungcheol’s hand and kissed his knuckles.
“Stay beside me tonight.” Jeonghan said in his low voice, rubbing Seungcheol’s hand.
Seungcheol showed a tiny smile and hugged his bestfriend, wrapping his arms tightly around Jeonghan’s broad shoulders. Jeonghan returned the favor and interlocked his hands around Seungcheol’s waist. He closed his eyes and savored this very moment, imprinting it in his memory so he could go back to this point in time when difficult problems arise in the future.
“Let’s go back.” Jeonghan said after a while, and gave Seungcheol’s forehead a light kiss.
They both tucked themselves in Jeonghan’s bunk, facing each other. The rest of the dorm was sound asleep, a few snores resonated around the house. Jeonghan and Seungcheol stared at each other in the dark for the longest time, trying to etch each other’s face in each other’s memory. When they spoke, they spoke in whispers and hushed volumes that only two of them can hear.
“You have things you want and I have things I want.” Jeonghan breathed.
“Let’s try to meet halfway.” Seungcheol responded.
“Compromise?”
“Compromise.”
“It’s going to be difficult.”
“I know.”
“What if it becomes too difficult?”
“I don’t know. Will you break up with me again?”
“Let’s help each other out. Let’s try not to give up this time and if we’re going to fight, let’s not fight out of spite anymore and fight for us to become better for each other.”
“And let’s both put away our pride from time to time. This is new, unchartered territory for the both of us.
Seungcheol fiddled with Jeonghan’s fingers and kissed them ever so gently.
“I’m sorry it has to be this hard.” Seungcheol said.
“Sorry? This is literally what every couple goes through.” Jeonghan suppressed a giggle.
“We’re special.” Seungcheol murmured in between kissing Jeonghan’s fingertips.
Jeonghan stared and visually traced the outlines of Seungcheol’s face in the dark, a midnight blue shade blanketing over his features.
“You’re special.” Jeonghan said, sliding his hand down to where Seungcheol has been hard and stiff.
Seungcheol, in return, put his hand on the small of Jeonghan’s back, caressing it and reaching underneath the garter of his boxers, wiggling his fingers in.
Jeonghan let out a quiet, inaudible gasp as he felt Seungcheol’s tender fingers sliding in and out.
Seungcheol’s lower torso quivered as Jeonghan did the same to him, causing the hairs all over his body to stand on end.
“You know, make-up sex is a thing.” Jeonghan mouthed, his fingers rubbing and probing inside Seungcheol.
“Come to think of it, we never got the chance to at least have break-up sex either.” Seungcheol said as his fingers continued doing what they do best to Jeonghan’s behind.
Jeonghan squirmed as he felt Seungcheol push further in. He arched his back in surprise, almost letting out a loud moan.
“It’s almost 4am. Do you want to shower early?” Seungcheol whispered, thoroughly delighted at his partner’s response.
Jeonghan smiled and bit his lip. “Yeah. The kids won’t wake until 6. Let’s take our time.”
As they promised, upon reconciliation, they took their time and took it slow this time.
End.
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invadermisty · 5 years ago
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with my url named after her, Misty was my very first oc -- ever. my roots started in IZ, and even with basically no knowledge of a fandom, i created an invader very loosely based on myself, with pretty much a good chunk of all the tropes you could possibly think of. it grew from there:
an “invader” that was tasked to suppress zim to keep him from bothering the empire again,
an invader that lived with several other irkens on earth, failing to cope with an existential revelation,
a scientist haunted by 2 future selves trying to create a true future,
and law enforcement tackling rebels and defectives on Irk.
if you’d like, below is a ramble delving into these story changes over the years!
(”Era 1 -- Volume 1″)
misty was one of the straggling invaders of oid2, and was unknowingly a major defect. alongside her assigned sir unit, serious MIR, she had gathered up 2 devalued and deactivated units, silly and naive VIR and JIR, to come with her. 
ultimately, her mission was to “aid Zim” alongside her best friend, though this quickly backfired as she delved into extensive human life with her friend, and gathered a crush on both Zim and Dib, though that was relatively one-sided.
the concept was relatively simple, though i created a branching storyline where either Zim or Dib had to die to an uncontrollable fight, and she had to be left with her grief and live with the survivor. i was a pretty gnarly kid story-wise, that’s 2012 for you. i never decided back then which was the “true ending”, and pretty much designed it with both having pretty much the same result, since she was anchored to human living. even if she lived with zim, she was still going to fulfill her mission to destabilize him sooner than later.
looking back on it, it’s interesting to see my polyamorous tendencies that ended up flowering several years later.
(”Era 1 -- Volume 2″)
In this story, Misty lives with a well-sized group of Irkens that kept contact with a fellow invader in a daily vlog lifestyle. (side-note, they also lived with a small family of other aliens chilling out on Earth. they had no impact on the story, sadly) 
here, misty’s defective nature was looked upon, and she later discovered she was a clone despite growing up with the memory of missing parents, perpetuated further by the fact she has a twin sister named Rhen. this was just the straw that broke everything collectively for her that led to more homicidal tendencies. looking back on it, since the actual truth remained unclear, i like to think there’s certainly more to her unknown lineage, why she felt heartbroken over a “traditional” Irken living, and what more could’ve caused her breaking point. in pretty much all versions of her story, she’s very much “human” through-and-through...
she was definitely one of two characters that i wanted to dump all the angsty 2010s goodness onto, and surprisingly that wasn’t Rhen, but Zik -- an entirely different story.
(”Era 2″)
a few years later after misty’s original creation, i intended to reboot her into a character with a single, concise story. ironically, this delved into more timeline-related shenanigans, but unfortunately, wasn’t nearly as delved into as stories previous.
the major concept revolved around misty as a softly stoic scientist dealing with the constant dream-like crisis of her two future selves trying to steer her in their direction, ultimately driving the “true end” of an imminent chemical lab incident and solidifying one of their forms. 
similar to an angel-vs-devil mindset, one was a hardened runaway that was recovering from the injury, scorched with an orange scar on the left side of her face, permanently altering her state of mind. she combated it with cool composure, and the ever-driving and selfless need to make sure that her past self could prevent the injury and live the happy life she couldn’t. 
on the other hand, the maniacal and selfish self cared not about the long run, and just wanted to seal her carefree and kill-driven life to wherever she ended up next, by making absolute sure that her past self would succumb to these chemical-induced ideals early. 
these two constantly bickered with each-other in a fierce fight of ideals, with one wanting to create a better future knowing she would “pass away”, and the other desiring to hijack this process, and the center body, and run off with it.
this was another “up-in-the-air” fork in the road as, while both were extremely different and even had serious repercussions, i never decided to delve into the true-good ending. i just had a really bad habit of not completing character arcs at the time.
(”Era 3″ -- Current)
in more recent years, i completely revamped this character and placed her in a major concrete story -- this time as a morally grey villain working for the Empire. i took much of the concepts and ideas from her character in the past -- giving her a father figure, solidifying her strange boundaries between humanity and inhumanity, and giving her the ability to see specific futures in her perspective, and constantly change them to create a Theoretical Perfect Future to be used as battle plans for the Empire.
she works alongside her father, a major figurehead that is the absolute pinnacle of rebel extermination. while his job centers more on the aggressive front of bounty hunting, Misty primarily works as general law reinforcement under this ideal, with plenty of hidden knowledge on defective matters. 
while there’s more to her, i think i’d like to reveal this story another day. it’s a big rp effort between me and 2 of my partners, so it’s pretty bombastic. 🤭
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justgiavanna · 7 years ago
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Weekend-self
I don’t consider myself someone who lives for the weekend. The phrases ‘Happy Friday!’ or even asking someone ‘What are you doing this weekend?!’ irk me a bit when I hear them. The usual weekend plans of going out, drinking, brunching, etc. don’t usually get me amped for those 2 days. It usually sounds exhausting, to be perfectly honest, and I have truly never had FOMO regarding anyone else’s weekend schedules. 
I generally enjoy my workdays that begin at 8:00AM and end at 5:00PM. There’s a calmness that comes with routine and the sense of purpose I obtain from work excites rather than exhausts me. By the time the weekend comes, I don’t feel the need to jam that time with ‘plans’ (sorry to everyone I’ve cancelled on or not called back, it’s not you I promise)
With that being said my weekends, and my Monday through Friday, are of equal importance to me. However I've been told that my weekend-Gia look and vibe is a bit old lady, anti-social, yet relaxing. I’ll explain.
(I’m not sure if i’m allowed to instill wisdom at the age of 31 (almost 32), but I’m around a lot of people in their early 20′s that could probably gain something from this.)
My weekend-self is in a 48 hour spa-retreat mindset, wrapped up in a blanket, surrounded by books, coffee, skin care products, etc. The less people near me, the better for both you and for me. I thought this came with age, but i’ve known who I am for a long time (see the descriptive title of this blog). I’m an old soul trapped in a young body. If you follow the incredible essence of hygge, this will be right up your alley. 
My home is on the smaller side, but it is a beautiful space that we put our hearts (and life savings) into. We bought our first condo in Goleta, right outside of Santa Barbara, about 1 year ago and if you’ve known me for while, you know my habitats are pretty but more importantly: comfortable. The weekend-self is not complete without the proper space to experience it in and this condo of ours is my sanctuary. 
I’ve always been a home body because the homes I’ve lived in have been so soothing and lovely: why leave? Our bedroom is colored in soft blues and whites, while our living room has a pop of color with deep earth tones sprinkled in. Of course we have a fireplace, blankets everywhere, comfy pillows, candles, plush leather couches, etc. Our view from our living room is onto a tiny patio overlooking mature pine and eucalyptus trees; they are so close to you when you walk out it almost looks like they are reaching over to join you. We chose this place and the decor for a lot of reasons but we truly felt a calmness here tucked away in our quiet community. 
I allow myself to sleep in on the weekends, sometimes until 11:00 or later. No alarms or earthquakes or my boyfriend can rattle me from my weekend slumber. My dad always told me if you are sleepy, just sleep, because this is your body telling you that you need to recharge. 
Cooking my own food is something that became important to me when I lived alone for a while (7 years of solitude that began in 2008). I try to cook as often as possible using ‘fresh, locally sourced ingredients’...don’t you hate when people say that? But really, I buy fresh food and not frozen, processed things. I love making a nice breakfast, brewing some coffee, and picking a spot at the kitchen table or the couch to then be glued to for hours. 
Reading is also something that became immensely important later in my life (after school was concluded). My mom is the fastest reader and loves to tell you and anyone around her as she strolls through Barnes and Noble that she’s read every single title on every single table. For the past few years I’ve been reading on my lunch breaks, enjoying the hour long opportunity to plow through whatever I’m reading. However the weekend is a whole DAY or DAYS to do this!
 I’ve been picking up classic books that I blew off in preparatory school and even reading the coffee table books I’ve collected over the years. I’m a bit self-competitive and keep track of what I read, making sure each year I read more books than I did in the previous year; my goal this year is 30 books. I like to mix things up by reading a classic, like Wuthering Heights, and then picking up a fashion book, a magazine, or a biography.  
I mentioned before that my weekend is my spa-retreat, which is why if you knock on my door at noon on a Saturday you’ll see some sort of colorful mask on my face and my hair wrapped in a terrycloth turban. There is a reason that I am still carded at 31 and will probably still (God willing) be carded at 41: I take care of and invest in my skin. 
Every weekend, and multiple times per week, I apply masks (exfoliating, soothing, overnight treatments, etc.) and yeah, this tends to add up cost wise. It’s worth it. Investing in a cleanser, a mask, a serum, and a cream makes a world of difference and I truly believe doing these at home is the biggest cost saver. Can’t buy an $80 mask or spend $120 on a facial? Go grab an egg from the fridge, whisk the whites and plop them on your face: your very own kitchen scrap facial. 
And sure, I’ll binge watch a show on Netflix (Alias Grace captivated me for a whole weekend), listen to French Cafe Radio on Pandora and dream of being in Europe, pay bills, check emails, catch up with family and friends on the East Coast, or take a break from my ‘plans’ and go out with Jamie. Santa Barbara is not necessarily a fashion capital so my weekend may also include online shopping (and the occasional unplanned splurge like I did this weekend on a Gucci bag). However the majority of my weekend is for me and at home: I need this time with myself and I truly love every minute of it. 
For those who still feel the need to get drunk every weekend or spend $75 on your brunch plates I say have fun and bless you because hangovers after 25 are just not worth it. I’d rather save my money at this point and not torture Jamie because I’m ‘deceased’ after having 3 glasses of wine. 
My weekend may not be your ideal weekend, but the self-care and calmness that come with a weekend tucked away can be really special. I’ve always felt that if you don’t love and take care of yourself, it’s impossible to love or take care of anyone else. The work week isn’t such a drag when you’ve taken ample time to make sure you’re bringing your best (and exfoliated) self to the table. 
-G
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